"What are you watching?"

"Some old wrestling tapes."

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm bored. You remember this?"

Dwayne sat down at the foot of the bed next to his friend's head and looked at the screen where he was standing at the top of the ramp trash talking Booker T. He recalled it faintly.

"Not really."

"Watch it with me. I forgot about half of this shit"

"Chris, we do this almost everyday," he sighed even as he resigned himself to spend his off day watching himself over and over again. "Why do we need to watch ourselves doing it years ago?"

"You know it's fun, quit complaining. You get to laugh at all the mistakes you make during your matches, and not just yours, everybody else's too. Plus, don't you ever wanna relive some of your greatest moments?"

He didn't reply to that. He hated giving Chris the satisfaction of being right.

"This is the whole Alliance Era. I won the WCW belt from you like two months after this and I became the undisputed champ about a month after that."

"So that's why we're watching this, huh," Dwayne asked with a playful smile.

Chris spared him a smile before returning his eyes to the television. "Actually I just picked up a random tape. Shh, I think this is gonna be one of your funnier moments. It was always hilarious when you were talking about Booker."

Dwayne returned his eyes to the screen and really paid attention for the first time since walking into the room.

"The Rock has only one question going into Summer Slam. What in the blue hell is a Spineroonie? Who invented the Spineroonie, Fisher Price? For The Rock's understanding, just so that The Rock's thinking is clear…The Rock has the Sharpshooter, the Rock Bottom, and The People's Elbow. And you've got the Spineroonie, the Dipsy Doodle, and the Sufferin' Succotash! You can interfere in The Rock's street fight on Monday. You can call The Rock out on his show, Smackdown! You can even come all the way out here to Hollywood to get yo hair done by Whoopi Goldberg. But the fact of the matter is this, come Summer Slam, The Rock is gonna give the five time WCW champion a five star ass whoopin'!"

Even Dwayne had to chuckle at himself while Chris nearly killed himself with laughter.

"God, you are so fuckin' funny," Jericho gasped as his laughter subsided into chuckles. "Sufferin' Succotash. I swear, where do you come up with this shit?"

"I could ask you the same question. Filthy, dirty, disgusting, brutal, bottom feeding, trash-bag ho? When did you have the time to sit down and think all that up?"

"You memorized it didn't you?"

"You said it enough."

"You listened."

"It was funny."

"Thank you," Chris said with a gracious smile.

"You're welcome."

Chris picked up the remote and started to fast-forward through the tape.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get to a good match. I haven't seen myself yet."

"Conceited."

"I prefer confident."

"Cocky."

"I have good reason to be. I like that wording too," Chris said shooting Dwayne a sly smirk. "It's true in so many ways."

"It's the ones that brag that don't have shit," Dwayne teased playfully.

"Eight and a half," Chris said with a shit-eating grin. "And you can back me up on that."

"I don't know the exact measurements per se."

"You wanna get a ruler and see?"

"Maybe later. I still got you beat no matter what it is."

"Not by too much," Chris said with a smirk. "But it figures. Everything on you is huge."

"It would be weird if it wasn't, wouldn't it?"

"I guess so."

"Hey you're on."

Chris pressed play at almost the end of his match. They watched as he won with no real problem. As he walked up the ramp they both felt the uneasiness grow in their stomachs. It became all too apparent just what was going to happen, the event being etched into almost the entire roster's memories forever. Funny thing was, neither could do anything, but watch in almost morbid fascination as Rhyno came out of nowhere and Gored Chris through the projection screen. The sheer pain was written all over Chris' face, and it was a miracle the fans didn't catch the fact that it wasn't supposed to happen. That it had been completely unscripted, completely unrehearsed, and completely real. It was the day that Rhyno had snapped to the point of almost no return. He hadn't been able to take he and Chris' break up earlier that day.

"That's enough of that tape," Chris said pressing the stop button slowly. His voice was coming out softly before he even realized it. The actual event had taken place years ago, but the memory still sent chills down his spine.

He felt Dwayne's fingers burrow into his hair tracing the scar hidden beneath from where his head made impact with the screen and the steel below it. He leaned into that hand needing to feel the comfort that Dwayne could give him right then.

Dwayne let his hand travel through Chris' hair , over his bare shoulders, and down the warm flesh of his back. Chris looked up and their eyes met for an electric second before he let out a soft murmur.

"Please?"

Dwayne caught the word only because he knew to listen for it. It was their word.

"Why does it always happen this way between us?"

"What way?"

"Because one of us needs to feel better," Dwayne whispered.

"That's not all it is to me. I thought-Is that all it is to you?"

Dwayne couldn't avoid those vulnerable blue eyes as they bore a whole into his very soul.

"No. It just always happens that way."

"How about it happen another way, for another reason?"

"Like what?"

Chris climbed up on his knees and straddled Dwayne's lap.

"Like because I love you and I might kill you if you don't lay me down and fuck me right now."

"Love and murder. That's pretty different," Dwayne chuckled laying back and bringing Chris with him.

"Not what I wanted to hear," Chris pouted petulantly.

"I love you too?"

"Yeah, that's nice, but I was looking for something more along the lines of Sufferin' Succotash!"

Dwayne was still chuckling when their lips met.

End