____________________________________________
As the two blond men made their way back to the locker room they were sharing, Christian was gleeful while Chris Jericho was glum.
Jericho's face still wore a look of concern as he followed the other man into the room. He couldn't stop thinking of Trish and hoping she was all right.
Christian didn't seem to notice that Y2J's mood didn't match his own.
"That was great! We should wrestle against chicks more often..." He laughed and swatted Chris' chest with the back of his hand, then sat down to remove his boots. "I'm only sorry that you were the one to shove that bitch Lita into the safety railing. That's what she deserves after what she did to me! She rejected me - me!"
Jericho sat down to remove his own wrestling boots, his already frazzled nerves intensifying. And come to think of it, Christian was really starting to get on his nerves.
"Sorry I didn't let you pin Trish, but damn if I didn't enjoy wrapping that little bitch up like a present... I-"
"Would you just stop it already?!"
Christian looked up sharply at Jericho, finally noting the combined look of annoyance and worry on the older man's face.
"What's eating you? Huh?"
When Y2J didn't immediately respond, he laughed.
"I don't believe it! You're really in love with her, aren't you?" Christian gave a derisive little chuckle. "You are, I can see it in your eyes. Man, you are so whipped!"
Chris merely sat there and ran a hand over his blond hair. He had plenty in mind to say but held his tongue. At the same time, he didn't like hearing Christian belittle his feelings for Trish.
"What happened to you, Chris?"
Jericho removed his hand from his hair and raised his head to meet his friend's eyes.
"You going soft on me? When we made this bet, you were all for it! Now you turn around and act like some pussy-whipped wimp!" He shook his head, the disgust now clear in his face. He frowned and rose to approach the other man. "All we were supposed to do was fuck these chicks. I was supposed to fuck Lita, and you were supposed to fuck Trish - plain and simple. It wasn't about anything else..." He gestured wildly with both hands as he glared down at his friend. "Come to think of it," he continued, a cruel, crooked grin spreading across his face, "I'm pretty surprised you didn't get to bang Trish - I mean, look at who she's done in the past - Test, Mr. McMahon, Jeff Hardy... Kurt Angle... Hell, she probably even did the Big Show! How come you didn't get a piece of that slut-"
Christian's taunting verbal insults were abruptly cut off as Jericho sprang up from his chair, pushed well past his limit. He shoved the younger man into the small row of lockers across the room, clear blue eyes widened with rage.
"I'm going to tell you this once and once only..." he spat, his voice reduced to a dangerous whisper. "If you ever talk about Trish like that again, I will make your life so miserable, you'll wish you were never born..."
"Oh, please! You're not-"
"I'm not fucking around, you asshole... I will make you regret crossing paths with me..."
Christian swallowed hard, his mouth running dry at the sound of the other man's voice, the threatening gleam in his eye. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Chris was not lying. He was the type of guy to live up to his promises. Also, he did not want Jericho as an enemy.
"Okay, man... Jeez..." He put his hands up in surrender.
"Good..." Y2J glared directly into Christian's eyes as he slowly released his hold on him. "Because I'm
gonna make sure to hold you to that..."