Saturday, November 23rd, 1:03 a.m.

Ka-thunt, ka-thunt, ka-thunt. The headboard knocked dully against the wall as Adam reamed into Jericho. His hand tightened on the edge of the headboard, white-knuckling the wood a bit as his other hand pressed into Chris's hip, the flesh reddening around his fingertips. Adam stared down at the nape of Jericho's neck.

Sweat rolled down his furrowed brow as the sound of skin rebounding off skin filled the four corners. He licked his lips, tasting the salt as his normally pouting lips parted to loose his heaving breaths.

Chris groaned, arching his back as his fingers tightened around the goose-feather pillow in his hands. He dragged the fowl fluffed cloud toward himself, burying his face into it's down. He moaned, muffled by the pillow, forcing his rear back into Adam.

Adam let out a grunt, leaning forward against his arm as he bit his lip. He closed his eyes as he felt himself release.

Friday, November 22nd, 11:49 p.m.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Adam pressed his hand against his forehead, his elbow pressed against the marble bar top. His thumb and forefinger rubbed his temples as his other hand twisted around a tumbler of whiskey.

He wished he knew what was going wrong now. It was as if he had fallen out of love with Christian. Maybe it was the music that was doing it at the current moment. The bass was so loud that someone could barely think.

All he knew at that moment was that he was glad that Christian had left. He didn't have the heart to tell him now, nor earlier, that he might not love him any more.

The club had at least served as a good, albeit fairly brief, distraction from the problem. He couldn't help but smile at least a little bit as Christian had his fun.

A hand rested on his shoulder, pulling Adam from his thoughts and causing him to jump a little in shock.

"Easy, buddy," the figure shouted at him, his face bouncing between green, red, and yellow from the disco lights of the club. Adam rolled his shoulders a little, letting the hand slip off his shoulder. He looked the man over a little, blinking as he suddenly wished that he would wipe that cheesy grin off his face.

Chris Jericho sat down next to Adam, raising his hand a little to notify the busy bartender of his presence. "You looked a little lonely. Thought you could use some company," He shouted at Adam, the corner of his lip still up-turned into that cheesy grin, "Name's Jericho, though you can call me anything you want, slick."

"Adam, not slick," Adam responded, sticking his hand out in offer of a handshake.

Friday, November 22nd, 11:34 p.m.

Christian nudge against Adam, nuzzling his cheek against the other's shoulder. "C'mon. Let's get outta here…" He said, half shouting so that Adam could here him over the thumping of the bass that filled the room.

Adam blinked, turning his head to look Christian in the eye. "In a bit. We just got off the dance floor." Adam's brow furrowed a little in annoyance, especially since it was his lover's idea to come to the club.

Pouting, Christian stood up a little straighter. If he had been a puppy, someone would have said 'D'aww, poor wittle fing' and picked him up for a quick cuddle. "We danced, that's all I wanted," he shouted about the untsu, untsu, untsu of the drum and bass.

Adam rolled his eyes as a huff escaped him. His face screwed up a little in thought before he turned back to face Christian. "Look. You head home, I just want to grab a few dri - I'll get a cab, don't worry. Just want a few drinks," he shouted, pressing a finger in his ear as he leaned closer to Christian's.

Giving him a look of concern, Christian eyed Adam for a few moments before he nodded. He cupped Adam's cheek in his broad hand before leaning forward to give his lips a good, albeit salty from dancing, kiss.

"I'll catch you later," he shouted before giving a meek smile and turning to wade through the club patrons.

Friday, November 22nd, 6:35 p.m.

"All I'm saying is that we just go, ya know, dance a little bit and then get outta there," Christian said, dishes clattering softly as he set them on top of the stack in the cupboard, "You know I've been bugging you for weeks about this new club. Just fuckin' give up and go."

Adam let out a groan, hanging his head a bit. "You know I don't li —"

"I don't give two licks if you don't like crowds or clubs," Christian said, folding his arms across his chest as his broad hands snuggled into the crooks of his elbows, "I went to all those silly little indie wrestling shows you adore so much."

Letting out a huff of frustration, his brow furrowed as he dunked a plate into a sud filled sink. "Just… There's just going to be so many fucking people there," he growled through his teeth, his hands dipping into the tepid water to scrub at the plate.

Christian pushed away from the counter with his hips, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Adam's waist, grinding against his pert rear a little. "Mnnnn…. C'mon. It won't be too terrible long. In n' out. Just like you like it," he said, a lusty growl rumbling in his throat as he spoke the last words.

"Fine… But not for too long," Adam relented, turning his head to give Christian's cheek a sweet peck.

"Mnnn, that's a good boy. You spoil daddy, you know that?" Christian said, punctuating his remark with a quick thrust, the fhhht of denim on denim his question mark. He sidestepped the other man, picking up an awaiting plate to dry it off.

Sighing, Adam looked at Christian from the corner of his eye. There were words in his head he wanted to say, but just couldn't at this time. So he continued washing, dunking a loaf pan into the bubbles.