Thanks for continued reading/reviewing :-D I appreciated it.

SIX

"Failed?" Chris asked incredulously, as he sat at the table, his chin propped in his hands. "Man, I bet Matt even let you cheat off of him, didn't he?" At that, Adam nodded, and swiped his hair back from his face. "How'd you still manage to fuckin' tank it?"

Adam shrugged, crumpled the print-out of his midterm grade, and tossed it over his shoulder. It wasn't as if it really mattered that much. It was just the middle of the term, there was still enough time left to cram, cheat off of Matt more, and if it came down to drastic measures, there was always begging. That 'D' was sure to be within reach. Victory!

"You've been too absorbed with alcohol, and a certain bald monster, is what I say." Chris smirked, leaning back in his chair. He smugly crossed his arms over his chest and studied Adam's face as actually blushed a little at the conjecture.

"Absorbed with Glenn?" The taller blond snapped his gum. "Excuse me, but you're getting rather close with a certain someone yourself, Chrissy."

"I don't know what you mean." Chris tried to defend, suddenly studying his nails.

"Yeah, I'm not that clueless. Matt, of course—and don't give me that look. I see you two and your little 'discrete' flirtations." He made finger quotes around the word 'discrete'. "Yup, I see a budding couple."

Adam got up from the table, and went to the fridge. Chris was leaning back in his chair, thinking of what the gum-snapper had said. He was attracted to Matt, and they had quickly become close friends, the kind who seemed like they'd always known each other. Then, there was the flirting, which came from both sides. Chris was the one who tended to cross that boundary sometimes though, like sucking on Matt's bruised nipples in the bathroom. That was just a little more than friendly. But hell, Matt just lost Ken months ago, he probably wasn't looking to start up anything new—or at least anything serious—for a while. Chris traced his fingertip along the patterns and swirls of wood grain on the table.

Adam was seated back at the table with a bottle of beer in one hand and a slice of cold pizza in the other, both consumables that always seemed to be endlessly abundant in the house.

"See Christopher, you hafta know how to play the game." He bobbled his head and pulled a pepperoni off of the pizza. "And I'm the expert, so you oughta listen to my advice."

"Expert? Come on, I bet you haven't got in Glenn's pants yet. You're not even an official couple yet, either." Chris snorted, a grin twitching his lips as he watched Adam turn the beer bottle in his hand.

"Eh, I have Glenn wrapped around my little finger, chump-stain. He just doesn't know it yet."

Chris brought his hand up to his mouth and tried to cover the escaping laugh as a cough, as Adam twisted off the cap and took a big pull of the drink. He had no sooner tipped the bottle to his lips, than his eyes grew wide as plates and the liquid went spraying out of his mouth sending a splatter and a wad of gum over the table. Chris doubled over laughing, banging his fist against the table.

"What the fuck!" Adam bellowed, quickly bolting to the sink and washing his mouth with tap water.

Christian had poked his head in, to see what all the commotion was. His brother was turning away from the sink, furiously scrubbing at his lips, and Chris was coughing and choking on his tearful laughter.

"Jericho I swear to God! Did you do this?" Adam jabbed a finger at the bottle of 'beer'.

"N-no it was—C-Chri-Christian!" Chris managed to get out, as he gasped. Blaming Christian for his own juvenile prank seemed the better option at the moment. Adam turned towards his brother with a frown, and a look that seemed rather dangerous.

"Whoah, hey what—I didn't do any--" Christian ducked as the bottle came launching at his head. He barely made into a crouch in time, the glass barely missed connect with his head. Instead he got showered in a rain of shards and liquid that wasn't beer.

"I will get you back for that one, creepy little bastard." Adam grinned evily, as he knelt momentarily by his wet brother, then strolled out of the room, still rubbing at his offended lips.

"What the fuck was in that?" Christian asked, getting to his feet. He grabbed a towel that was poked through a drawer handle, and wiped his face.

"Oh…I can't breathe!" Chris fell out of his chair and lay on the floor staring giddily at the ceiling. Christian narrowed his eyes, and plucked a piece of glass out of his hair. He brought the towel to his face again, then stopped, catching a certain familiar smell.

"Shit, no way…" He sniffed the damp towel, his nose curling in disgust. "Dude, this is piss!"

Chris pulled himself up, sniffling. He worked on a serious face, and in a deadpan voice answered.

"Yes, yes it is piss."

Christian tossed the wadded towel at Chris. It hit his chest softly and curled on the floor.

"Oh well, I guess this can be counted as payback for what I did to you this morning then."

"Huh?"

"I whacked off with your Iron Maiden t-shirt."

Chris's neutral expression turned into a scowl.

"Do you know how wrong that is? You jizzed on Maiden!"

"I did, and it was good." Christian answered, laughing darkly.

"You really are a creepy little bastard." Chris muttered under his breath.

"Damn right, Jericho!"

"Note to self, put padlocks on closet and dresser."

~*~

Matt lay on his already made bed, staring at the ceiling. His dark curls were fanned beneath his head, spread over the fluffy pillow like rays of a black sun. His thoughts were revolving around a loud mouthed blond, who should have been by his side but wasn't. He missed Ken. He missed his insane antics, his smile, his mischievous eyes, the feel of their hands bound together in that special, intimate way. A sheen of tears pricked at his eyes, and he sniffed. By now he should be used to this sort of pain, or at least somewhat resilient to it. After all, Ken wasn't the first person in his life that he'd held close to his heart, and lost.

There was his mom, of course. He and Jeff had lost her at an early age to a cancer in her brain. The hole her death had left in their life had been enormous and dark, and threatened to swallow the whole family into it. Matt had been the strong one, not only for his little brother but for his father also. He'd done it because he had to, and because she had asked him to. At night he cried quietly because he missed her soft touched, gentle kisses, her smiling lips, her laughter. They had the closest bond and in losing her, he had felt as though he'd lost a part of himself too, and being only a child he didn't know just how he was supposed to deal with that. He just did, somehow.

If that had been the only great loss in his young life, it still would have been one too many. However, he was a young man who would become much more acquainted with darkness and emptiness than most did in a life time. Somehow, he'd always managed to move on, pulling from some sort of strength that seemed to be otherworldly.

After mom, there was Amy. She and Matt had grown up together and been best friends. Right before high school, they started dating. The two of them were together until their junior year—when on their way home from junior prom, they were hit by a drunk driver. Matt had been the lucky one, he'd suffered nothing more than a broken wrist and few minor cuts, but Amy…

He remembered the bone-jarring jolt as the truck t-boned them and the metallic skid of the car as it slid, and the bang of tire as it blew out. He'd immediately reached for Amy, and took her hand. Her head was busted, her red hair painted even darker with thick-leaking blood. It ran down her face, over her carefully done make-up. She was shaking, one of her hands flopping against the crushed side of the door. Her eyes were wide, pried open in shock, her mouth open with horrible choking sounds as she tried to breathe—but she couldn't. A chunk of glass from the shattered window was lodged into her neck cutting a deep slice and with each pulse the blood sprayed over the windshield and the dash in crimson fans. He mumbled things to her, incoherent things that he thought would somehow help, but nothing he could say helped. The arch of blood from her slashed neck slowly lessened, until it was no more than a steady drip down the stained column of her throat, and the still, round tops of her breasts.

He had forced himself to move on, knowing that Amy would have wanted him to, and knowing that he couldn't just live his life in the pathetic shell that he'd became that summer. By the time senior year rolled around, he'd made a promise to himself to push on. That was the year he met a cute little blond freshman who had a tendency toward trouble-making and defiance. He had piercings in places that would make most people stare, a spikey mohawk, a few amateur tattoos spiraling his arms, and he was cute as hell. He was perfect. Shannon quickly moved into Matt's heart, and just as quickly was taken away.

The summer before Matt was due to leave for his first year of college, he and Shannon, Jeff, and Shane were just winding down a hot, sticky, day by doing something they'd done time and time again. They had walked down to the creek and perched on the old railroad trestle that crossed it. The four of them showed off to one another as the jumped into the cool water. They did it for hours, laughing, shoving one another, flipping and twirling like dare-devils, spitting water at each other. Only three of them walked away from the trestle that day, in the dark, as the crickets and frogs seemed to hum a sad, mournful dirge.

Shannon drowned. At first when he didn't come up from the water, they only thought he was playing. Shane was cat-calling and laughing, but soon fear usurped the group as Shannon still didn't surface for a time that was too long to bode well. The three of them ran and made their way down to the creek, slipping and sliding on wet grass and lose rocks at the waters edge. The tumbled into the currents and in a tangle of limbs they all delved under in a frenzy to pull out their small friend. Shane was the one who dragged Shannon out onto the bank. Matt sprinted to the nearest house he could find. He doubled over on the doorstep with a stitch gnawing his ribs, as he begged and cried for them to call for help.

The couple called for help, and drove a panting, terrified Matt back to the creek. He peeled out of the strangers car and saw Shane standing with his face buried in his hand. Jeff was kneeling over a small, crumpled form. Matt went to them, and knelt by Jeff. His brothers lips were pressed to Shannon's trying to breathe life into lungs that were logged with water. Tears blinded Matt, and rolled hotly down his cheeks. He could tell from Shannon's eyes that he was gone, they looked the same as Amy's had as she'd bled out in the car, as Matt had held her cold hand. He buried his face into Shannon's wet chest and sobbed.

The last big loss in his life was still fresh in his mind. He and Ken had been room mates freshmen year, when Matt had lived in the dorms. Things just went from there. They hadn't really gotten to the point of falling in love, but were hovering close to the edges. Now, he would never know. That too had ended in the way that seemed to haunt Matt always.

Now, Chris. God, they'd only known each other for such a short time but—but he was beginning to feel more towards that silly blond than he'd even felt for Ken maybe. Chris felt like he'd always been in Matt's life, that they'd had some phantom connection eve before they'd known one another. It was like there was some Chris-shaped void in his life, just waiting to be filled, and now it was. Chris was one of the most epic people Matt had ever had the pleasure of meeting, and to not have him in his life would have been a sad, sad tragedy. In fact, now he couldn't imagine the house or their group of friends ever feeling complete without Chris there. His chocolate-hued eyes were still running with tears, but when he thought of that ass-clown, his lips curved up into a soft smile.

He knew that Chris found him attractive, and with the bond that was already between them, Matt could see the two of them easily falling into a deeper relationship. The only problem was, he was a bit afraid to do that again. The more you invest, the more there is to lose should it all go south. That thought creased his forehead, drawing his dark eyebrows down. He'd never lived his life based around fear, he'd always been one to take on the moment and live life to the fullest just because of that same reason—that it could all be swept away in a matter of seconds. Still, he couldn't help but be wary at the thoughts that skirted around the fringes of his mind, that maybe he wanted something more from his friend. Maybe he'd just sit back, and just let things play out without him touching it, see what twists and turns the fates had in store. Maybe for once, they would be on his side, and give him someone to hold onto.

~**~

"You're asking me for advice?" Glenn laughed, as he leaned in the bathroom door and watched Chris fiddle with his hair in the full length mirror. He was running a comb through the long, blond tresses, cursing as the teeth tangled at the bleached ends.

"Yeah baldy, I'm asking you. Look," Chris rolled his eyes, and with a rip pulled the comb out of his hair. "You've known him longer than I have. You know him better than I do." This time he used his fingers instead to comb through the soft locks.

"He's a big sushi whore, take him out for Japanese." Glenn suggested. He watched as Chris pulled a brand new shirt out of a bag, and ripped the tags off. He shrugged into the shirt—a button up that was a bright blue—it perfectly matched his eyes. He started on the buttons, but Glenn's hands found his waist and spun him around, and knocked his hands away from the buttons. Glenn took the job over, undoing the ones that Chris had done up, and redoing them. In Chris's anxiety he had been buttoning the shirt up crookedly. "And don't get nervous. It's just Matt, it's not a big deal."

"Psh. I'm not nervous. I'm Chris Jericho, I'm a sex machine!" Chris turned back towards the mirror and started to do poses that made Glenn shake his head and laugh. "And you're too conservative." Chris added, as he popped open the top two buttons on the shirt that Glenn had done up. The V showed off a smooth swatch of tanned chest. "Gotta show some cleavage." Chris joked as he slapped Glenn's chest.

"Ha. Well, if you want to be really liberal, O Hunky Sex Machine, then why don't you just go shirtless and let your pants hang open."

"I thought of that." Chris said seriously, as he swept his hair back into a pony tail. No sooner had he wrapped the band around it, then Glenn pulled it free and spilled the long hair back over his shoulders.

"Leave it down." He said simply. "Sexy." He swatted Chris's ass, then laughing, left him to pose once again in the mirror.

After Chris was satisfied with how he looked, he made the short—yet somehow just then it seemed really long—trek from the bathroom down the hallway to Matt's room. He ducked his head in, and saw Matt sprawled on the bed, his hands crossed at the back of his head. Chris went over to the bed, and crawled onto it. He propped himself up beside Matt, who cocked his head at him, looking over the nice shirt he had on.

"What's the occasion Chris, got a hot date?" It was a miracle to see the blond wearing something other than a ratty band t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, Matt thought as he looked Chris over. Well, he was still wearing ripped jeans, but they looked good on him. When he looked back at Chris's face, he was smirking.

"Hell, I hope I do!" Chris answered. "This guy's kind of an ass-clown though, so maybe I shouldn't ask him."

"Who?"

"Well, he's got these amazing dark eyes that sparkle like stars at night, and he's got this cute funny looking nose…and his lips are really fucking amazing." With that said, Chris leaned close to Matt and captured his mouth for a gentle caress.

"Me?" Matt asked, as Chris moved his lips away.

"If you wanna."

"I'd love to…but apparently, I'm just some ass-clown." Matt rolled Chris off of him and grabbed the pillow beneath his head, and whacked him with it. "I'll let it slide this time." Matt smiled, as he got up from the bed and sauntered over to the closest.

Chris perched on the bed, hugging the pillow, as he watched Matt strip out of his t-shirt. Grinning, he bit his bottom lip as his eyes roamed over the rippling muscles of Matt's shoulders and back and his slender waist, all covered with olive-tan skin that looked soft and smooth.

"Quit staring." Matt said, a little laughter apparent in his voice, as he kept his back to Chris and rummaged in the closet.

"I'm not staring." Chris pouted.

"Sure." Matt pulled down a white button up shirt that had some sort of black tribal pattern winding across the chest and down one sleeve. He put it on, leaving a V of bare skin just like Chris had. "So, where you taking me, Romeo?" Matt asked, as Chris came over to him, and slipped their fingers together.

"For me to know, and you to find out." Chris responded childishly, sticking his tongue out. Matt burst into laughter, and shoved Chris playfully.

"You're so romantic, Jericho."

"I know."

~***~

Evilness…decided to leave a cliffie and save the date for the next chapter.