Happy Valentine's Day
A/N: Check out that original title! Woo!
I wonder why hotels always have to be color themed. Every single place I've ever been to is either very downplayed and drab, or highly colorful and extravagant, with very little leeway in between. Tonight it's one of the colorful ones. The carpeting in the halls are deep burgundy red and the rooms a pinkish hue that seems to wish it was only beige. The wallpaper has hints of burgundy and pink strewn through white. I noticed earlier that even the blankets on the beds match the wallpaper.
Red, pink, and white. How ironic considering it's Valentine's Day. I hate this fucking holiday. I don't care what history says. Hershey's and Hallmark got together and created this in order to boost their industries 500.
Don't get me wrong. I used to love Valentine's as much as the next happy person. I would go out on dates and to parties and clubs and have a high old time getting drunk off of red colored drinks and eating way too much chocolate.
Chocolate covered cherries… Ack, I'm drooling.
Anyway. I used to love the most romantic day of the year. How could I not? I used to be a romantic person when given the right moments and people. And I damn sure was one of the most affectionate people you could ever meet. Well, if I liked you.
I think I started hating this holiday after the third year of spending it alone. It's been a really long time since I've really celebrated Valentine's. A long time. But why celebrate a holiday for couples when you're alone? I haven't had a real steady relationship since I started wrestling. Not that I blame the business for my lack of a love life. It's just a key factor. When you're traveling constantly and tired most of the time, it kinda makes love and romance seem less appealing and even harder to find when it is appealing. So maybe I am blaming the business. Might as well. Who else can I blame? Myself? Nah. I'm weighed down enough as it is.
Which is why I'm still standing in the red, pink, and white hallway outside of my hotel room. I hate being depressed around Jay. It makes it very awkward for both of us. I get all broody and draw into myself, which in turn causes him to want to pry into my issues and help me feel better. I know it's him trying to be nice, but sometimes you just want to sulk, ya know? I know he's had his moments like that. Then again I usually pry into him and help him feel better at those moments, too. He likes it when I do that, I think. Probably makes him feel loved. He can be a little needy sometimes. Oh well.
Now that I think I've got myself somewhat back to normal, I unlock the door and push my way into the room. As soon as I'm inside a smell hits my nose. It's familiar, but I can't quite… Vanilla? No. Cookies. It smells like cookies in here. I step further into the room, my eyes going wide at what I see. There are candles sitting around the room everywhere, which is probably where the cookie smell is coming from, and they're all red, lit and flickering. The single bed has been turned down, but the sheets are now a creamy white color and shiny as if they were satin. Who am I kidding? They are satin. And lighting the final candle in a row the leads across the dresser is Jay, wearing only a pair of red satin lounge pants. I arch a brow at him.
"Should I get a room of my own tonight? Cuz you looks like you're expecting company."
"I am… and he just arrived," he says with a smile cast sincerely in my direction.
"Me?" I can't help but laugh a little. "Um, I think you went a little overboard for just me, Jay."
"Nah. I think I got everything just right." He glances down at the floor for a second and I think I can see him blushing, but it's hard to tell in the candle light. "Chris, I know how much you hate Valentine's Day. I just wanted to make this one a little better for you."
"Oh, I see. Well, it looks nice, Jay." I glance around the room again and nod. "Really nice. I can tell you put a lot of effort into it."
The question is why. Why do all of this just to try to make his best friend feel happy? If anything the romantic atmosphere is only making me feel more and more single, but I won't tell him that. He obviously wants to make sure I'm not depressed tonight. I have been for the past week or so and he must be sick of it. My attention is drawn back to him when he steps up to me, handing out a box with a little bow on it.
"I got this for you." I smirk a little and start to unwrap it, but he stops me. "There's a catch."
"There's always a catch," I chuckle.
"You have to open it in the bathroom," I blink. "and come out wearing it."
"If I see any leather and chains in here I'm gonna kick your ass, Reso."
I finally get him to relax a little, laughing at me and shaking his head.
"No, it's nothing kinky. Just promise me you'll put it on."
He's looking at me a little intently. I nod and tell him I promise then wander into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. This is getting a little strange. What is he up to, I wonder. I look at the box in my hands, setting it in on the counter, but not opening it yet. Somehow I have a feeling I know what's inside.
This has been building up for quite a while. I knew Jay was gay from the very start. Me, him, and Adam have been good friends for a long time. I knew that they were together as more than just friends long before I ever caught them kissing. I still remember that. They had jumped a mile away from each other when I'd walked in the room unannounced. And I had laughed at them, telling them to give up the make-believe because I could see it when they looked at each other. Which was the truth. The simple expressions on their faces and the light in their eyes when they looked at one another was enough for any idiot to see that they were completely in love. It hadn't bothered me. Until they broke up. That was horrible. I've always been closer to Jay than Adam so of course he came running to me when Adam dumped him. Dumped him. More like chewed him up and spit him out. The poor guy was so miserable and lost without him. He'd nearly killed himself. That was how Jay and I became best friends. I saved him. Or at least he claims I did. Apparently I knocked on his bedroom door right before he pulled the trigger. That still creeps me out mostly because I'm pretty damn sure he's telling me the truth. I'd seen the gun lying on his bed that night. I didn't mention it, though, not till he confessed to me much later.
But now here it is in front of me. A loaded gun waiting to go off in my face, so to speak. A few years of being best friends and tag partners, living together, traveling together, working together, and now it's come down to this. I know exactly what this is. It took me a little while to figure it out, but I saw the signs. Jay was starting to look at me like he used to look at Adam. I only saw it once, in the locker room, when I caught him watching me pack my bag. He'd had this little smile on his lips, barely noticeable, and his eyes were contently half lidded, yet shining like pools of teal colored water. It had disappeared quickly, but I saw it. I knew it for what it was. And as I open the gift he's given me, my thoughts are only confirmed. Bang.
I step out of the bathroom and walk back to the corner, leaning on it, looking at him lying on the bed, waiting for him to stop pretending he's not paying attention. He's been waiting for me. He just doesn't want to appear desperate. He looks up at me a second later and his eyes light up. I'm wearing it, just as promised. It being a black satin robe that's somewhat sheer coming down to mid-thigh, and matching boxer shorts that thankfully aren't as sheer as the robe. He has awesome taste in lingerie and he's good at guessing sizes for people. I look good. In fact, I look really good.
"Wow… Chris, you look…"
"Really good?" I speak my thoughts.
"Actually I was thinking breathtaking." Oh boy… Sweet talk. "Come here and join me. I have your favorite candy."
"Listen, Jay…" I pause for a second. "How do you know it's my favorite?"
He smirks and turns around, grabbing a large heart shaped box from the bedside table. Even from this distance I can see the label says chocolate covered cherries. Okay. Maybe just sitting on the bed eating chocolate with him won't hurt. Then again, I might be leading him on a little too much. I don't want to hurt… Oh, that bastard. I hate it when people take a bite of something and completely over dramatize how good it tastes. It works, though, and I'm on the bed next to him in a second, popping a sweet in my mouth and trying not to moan at the delicious flavor. Damn it. I'm such a chocoholic.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Chris."
I open my eyes when he speaks, finding that he's only inches away from my face. He has that look on his face like I saw in the locker room, not trying to hide his feelings from me anymore. He's going to kiss me. And the only thing I can think of is to turn my face at the last second. How tactful of me, huh? I bet he appreciates getting a mouthful of my hair. He quickly pulls back and I move away from him and the chocolate and the bed. I don't know what I can say to him. I don't want to hurt him. I don't want him to go through the agony I had to help him through with Adam. I don't even want to look at him. I know he's going to be so upset. He went to so much trouble for me. The candy, the lingerie, the candles, the satin sheets… And holy shit he bought me flowers. I didn't notice them sitting on the dresser before, but there's a dozen red roses in a vase over there. Oh fuck…
"Jay, I'm so sorry."
My voice cracks when I say it. I think I'm about to cry. I feel so horrible. I feel his hand touch my shoulder, having come to me where I'm leaning against the wall next to the bed, and he turns me around to look at me. There's no sadness in his expression, though. Only concern. Most likely because I have tears rolling down my cheeks already. He's probably wondering what the hell is wrong with me. If only he knew. I care about him so much. He's my best friend. He's practically my only friend! And I don't ever want to hurt him, but that's exactly what will happen.
"Why are you crying? What's going on inside that over emotional heart of yours?"
"I don't want to hurt you, Jay."
"You haven't hurt me yet. You only panicked and pulled away when I wanted to kiss you." He reaches up and gently strokes that part of my hair that won't stay in my ponytail, the side that curls just under my chin all the time. "All I wanted was to give you one kiss, Chris. Nothing more. I'm not expecting anything from you physical or emotional. Just a kiss for Valentine's Day. That's all."
He's already leaning in to me again. This time there's nowhere for me to go. Unless I slide down the wall and duck him, thus making a complete idiot out of myself for a second time. I'll never say this to anyone, but I'm so scared. I'm absolutely terrified of what will happen if his lips touch mine. I'm trembling as he steps up against me, our stomachs touching, our hips barely brushing. I turn my head away again, instinctually in a way. I do it without even thinking about it. But he seems to know I would because he catches my chin in his fingers and turns me right back. I can feel the heat of his breath on my face and smell the chocolates he was eating. I close my eyes as I feel the first brushing touch of his kiss, his lips sealing over mine for a long moment, which is probably only three or four seconds in reality. Then he pulls back, giving my lips a small and gentle flick with the very tip of his tongue, then steps completely away.
I feel so cold when he pulls away from me. I was so caught up in him that I had already grown accustomed to the warmth of his body pressed to mine. I can't meet his eyes. I'm so embarrassed. Not because he kissed me, but because of how much it's making me react. I'm a complete emotional mess over one kiss; worried, scared, sad, confused, and I hate to admit it, but incredibly aroused. Which I'm 99.9 positive he can see through the satin boxers and robe.
"Why did you have to do that?" I whisper.
"Because I wanted to, Chris. I'm sorry if you didn't want me to, but I had to. I've been wanting to kiss you for a long time. I love you."
I slam the back of my head against the wall behind me with frustration. That was exactly what I didn't want him to say. I don't want him to love me. And knowing that he does only makes me sob aloud as I slide down the wall to sit on the floor. I had been praying for this day to never come, hoping in vain that he wouldn't fall in love with me. But he had. No matter how I tried to keep him from doing so he loved me anyway.
"You can't love me, Jay," I say in between my heaving breaths. "You just can't. It'll ruin everything."
"I know," he says sadly, quietly. "I just couldn't hide it anymore." He finally kneels down in front of me, brushing a hand over my hair again. "I'm sorry. I kinda knew that you didn't feel the same, that you couldn't feel the same, but I just can't help it. I love you so much."
"I do love you, Jay. That's the problem." God, doesn't he get it?
"What are you talking about? If you love me, too, then why are you so upset?"
"Jay, are you stupid?" I finally snap. "You know me! You know what kind of person I am. I'm a hateful, jealous, possessive person. I don't want to hurt you, Jay. If you try to be my lover that's all you'll ever get: hurt. Even when I love someone I still manage to make them completely miserable. I'm a horrible person and you know it. You've said yourself that I'm cruel! But I love you so much, Jason, and I don't want to because the more I love someone the more I hurt them."
By the time all that got out of my mouth I'm pretty positive Jay couldn't understand a single word of it. Which I think is better because I don't want him to really understand what's wrong with me. I've always tried to shelter him from what's inside of me. I don't want to taint him with that darkness. So I only set my head down on my folded arms, curling my knees tighter to my chest, and hope that my cries aren't so loud that people in the other rooms can hear me.
I gasp when strong hands suddenly grab my wrists and haul me off the floor. A second later I find myself shoved onto my back on the bed. Jay has me pinned down completely, pressing his full weight onto my body as he stretches himself over me. I don't fight him. I can't. I never would be able to resist him if he really meant to… But that's not his intent. I know it can't be. The look on his face speaks to me more than anything he could possibly say. He looks so disappointed. I don't understand why exactly, but I know that expression. He stares at me for a long moment, and the longer he stares, the more his eyes soften. My God, he loves me. He truly loves me. His eyes are so clear, so alive, gazing at me with that mixture of hopeless sadness and utter joy that characterizes a lover's glance. I wish only to return it. I want to love him, but I know I never can. I'll only break his heart.
"I've never said that you were cruel," he finally speaks. His voice is as soft as the sheets underneath us. "I said certain things that you've done were cruel, but not you as a person. You're not hateful, just moody. I know you're a jealous lover. I've seen you go through relationships. But jealousy can be a good thing sometimes. And far as you being possessive, Chris…" He nuzzles my cheek with his nose, kissing me lightly in that same spot before whispering softly. "I want nothing else in this world but to be possessed by you."
I think I whimper when I hear those words. He slowly envelopes me in his arms, cuddling me, cradling my head in his hands. I weep quietly in the curve of his neck as he murmurs loving things in my ear. I don't know how long he and I stay like that. Some of the candles have gone out by the time he lifts himself from me. I'm still emotionally wrought and unsure even after spending all that time hearing him reassuring me, making me promises of love, loyalty, and trust. I look up at him with my aching eyes where he holds himself over me. It feels so natural, so right for him to be there. He shifts his weight to the side so he can raise one hand, stroking my tear lined face with the back of his fingers, then reaches behind my head to gently pull my ponytail loose. He flicks the band aside, pausing a second as if thinking, then rises up on his knees between my parted legs.
"Let me prove my love to you," he says in a tone that could soothe even the fiercest beast.
I glance down as his hands reach for the belt that holds my new robe closed, slowly unknotting it to bare my chest and stomach to him. I know what comes next. I've dreamt of it a thousand times. He doesn't make another move, staring at me patiently to see what my answer is. I can feel my lips turn up with a faint smile and I nod. I let him show me everything that he feels for me, letting him do as he pleases with my body, discovering he'll only do what pleases me. And he spends the rest of the night pleasing me in any way I ask.
It's hours later now. The candles have burnt themselves completely out. The chocolates are all but gone. Covered only in a cream colored satin sheet, Jay is asleep by my side. His arms are tight around my waist as if forbidding me to move. Not that I want to. This spot is warm from our sweating bodies and my head seems to fit perfectly into this little dip in the center of Jay's chest, as if it were made just to cup my cheek. I stare into the darkness without seeing a thing. I know what I must look like, though. That small smile, that contented half lidded stare. And I know my blue eyes must be glowing in the dark from the love that has lit up my soul.
I love Valentine's Day.
Legalities: Chris Jericho is copyright to himself. Christian Cage is copyright to TNA Wrestling. Any other mentioned characters are property of World Wrestling Entertainment. I claim no knowledge of each of the characters sexual preferences or lives. This is a story of fiction, none of these events are real. I received absolutely no profit from this story.