Carrying a tray laden with a light lunch, Dave Batista crossed the cluttered room to the sofa and set the tray on the coffee table. "Here you go, my dear." His brown eyes were warm as Jericho reached for a sandwich.

The blonde took a bite, and then grinned up at him. "It's good," he said. "You make a mean turkey sandwich! Thanks, David."

"You know, you're even cute when you're chewing," Batista commented affectionately.

Jericho laughed playfully at him. "I got it all, baby," he said whimsically. "I can wrestle, I can act, I can sing…"

"Well, no," Batista interrupted to correct him. "You can't sing. But you being who you are - you never let little things like that get in your way!"

"What? You don't like my singing?" Jericho chortled. "You bastard! I'll have you to know that I've been offered record deals!"

"I'm willing to bet they were bogus." The big man sat beside him and kissed his cheek. "But I'll tell you something that's for real," he said, nuzzling his ear. "You can sing to me any time you want."

"Really? You mean that?"

"Yeah, I mean that."

"How about right now?"

"Sure. Sing to me. I'll listen."

"No, not now. Maybe later."

"What do you have in mind, then?" With a suggestive gleam, Batista lightly butted heads with him. "You're probably not up to anything strenuous, but there are a lot of fun things we could still do."

Jericho tilted his face for a long kiss. "I got a good hand." His chuckle quivered and his eyes fell to their hands as he interlaced fingers.

"Yes, you do." The expression was undemanding. "You've got good everything." After a stiff moment, he went on cautiously. "I know you're still not wholehearted about being with me like this, Chris. I don't mean to force anything. This is your choice. No pressure. If you don't want me here, just tell me to get the hell out of your life. I hope you don't, because I don't want to go. I want to be with you. I want you more than I've ever wanted anybody in my life. I want this to be something good, this thing between us, because for the first time in my life, what's in my heart is soft and sweet, not the heavy crap I'm usually feeling. It's butterflies and flowers, my first time ever! Isn't that ridiculous? For some crazy reason, there's hope in here." He banged on his own chest with a hard fist. A glint of moisture in his eyes was quickly blinked away. "There's hope that maybe I've finally found somebody I can touch who wants to touch me, somebody I can keep, somebody I can…" Turning away, the big man blew out a thin, morbid sigh. "I'm sorry, Chris. I didn't mean to get all gushy." Getting to his feet, he glanced around the room at the clothes and papers that littered the floor. "You go ahead and eat, and I'll do some housework," he said, pointedly avoiding his partner's blue eyes.

Jericho grabbed for his hand and missed. "Dave, we can talk about this!" he implored. "Come on, please, man. Sit down and talk to me!"

"Later, okay?" As Batista bent to pick up the mess, he scrubbed his eyes roughly with the heels of his hands. "Later."

Ready Story #4 of 7 titled Gorgeous