"Gimme another cheeseburger!" Christian demanded, slamming his beer glass down on the bar. "With less damn onions, and more pickles!"
The barkeeper, who Christian has been harassing all night, sighed, but picked up the phone and sent the order back to the kitchen. They proclaimed in the hotel brochure that the kitchen was open until 2 am, and it was a claim they had to live up to whenever a guest demanded it.
"There you are!"
Christian didn't look up as the form of his traveling companion appeared at his side. "I've been looking for you all night!" Lance exclaimed, frown as the barkeeper set Christian's cheeseburger down in front of the blonde. "Christian, you know you shouldn't be eating stuff like that," he chided.
"So what?" Christian picked up the burger and took a big sloppy bight of it, glaring at Lance while he chewed.
"You won't get anything positive from that, it's going to turn right into fat," Lance informed him.
"Who the fuck cares?" Christian spat, taking a big swig of his beer. "Not that you'd fucking care, but I just got fucking dumped by my fucking lousy asshole boyfriend, so I really don't give a fuck if I gain a few pounds! Who the fuck do I have to look good for now?"
"Christian, I'm very sorry to hear that," Lance replied, "but I really don't think this is the way to deal with it."
"What the fuck would you know!" Christian gulped down the rest of his beer, banging his glass on the bar for another one, which the barkeeper provided. "You know, you've got it so fucking easy Lance!"
Lance blinking, suppressing the urge to reprimand Christian on his cursing. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, you know what I mean," Christian spat. "You have your little wife, you're little perfect kids, your fucking white picket fence! Life's so fucking easy for you! Everything's a fucking piece of cake for you! You have no idea what it's like to be me. To try and find a fucking decent man, to try and find someone to love you, to care about you; it's so fucking easy for people like you! A billion girls in the world, it's so fucking easy for people like you to find one, fucking marry her, fucking have kids with her. I could be with a guy for fucking years, and he's never fucking marry me, because even if he wanted to, he fucking couldn't! And who the fuck would put a ring on my finger? Who the fuck would ever want to do that?"
"Uh..." Lance closed his mouth as Christian began to rant again, deciding it would be better to let Christian get it all out.
Christian's eyes were brimming with tears, his cooling cheeseburger forgotten as he spoke. "You have no fucking idea what it's like, Lance. You have no fucking idea what it's like to give yourself to another man. To have another fucking person inside you. You'll never fucking understand! And to give yourself to someone, and have him tell you that all those times you touched, all those times you kissed, that all that didn't fucking mean a thing! To have him dump you on your ass for some fucking little 23 year old fucking bimbo! Guys like you don't have a fucking clue what the fuck that's like!" He sniffled, wiping at his watering eyes with the back of his hand. "It's just not fair," he whispered, looking about ready to break down.
"I think we need to get you up to your room." Lance helped an unresisting Christian off his stool, putting his arms around the blonde's waist to steady him. "How many has he had?" he asked the haggard bartender.
"Enough," the man replied.
Lance sighed and nodded, heading for the elevator, a slow and difficult process with the way Christian was stumbling and leaning on him. He managed, eventually, to get them up to the room they shared, laying Christian down on one of the twin beds. Christian curled up into the fetal position, tears spilling silently down his cheeks.
Lance sat on the bed beside Christian, looking uncertain as to what action to take next. "Um...is there someone I could call who you'd like to talk to about this?" he questioned.
"No," Christian whispered, his voice shaking slightly, his eyes clamped shut, but still leaking salty tears. "No one would fucking understand. They're all lost in their fucking marital bliss. Edge and Matt've been happily married for 3 fucking years; actually fucking married, can you believe that? They went out of their way to go to a fucking place where it's actually fucking legal for them to marry! That's how much they fucking love each other! No one's ever loved me enough to fucking ask me to sign a fucking domestic partnership!"
He sniffled, grabbing the kleenex Lance offered and wiping at his wet cheeks. "I had a crush on Matt, you know," he whispered brokenly. "I asked him out before Edge ever fucking thought about it, but he gave me some bullshit about focusing on his career - next thing I know, I'm listening to him and Edge fuck in the room next to mine! The good ones never fucking want me, Lance. It's not fucking fair."
Christian crumpled up the soaked kleenex, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. Lance quickly stooped and retrieved it, placing it neatly in the trash can. "I've been so fucking used," Christian murmured. "They pick me up, wine and dine me, then they tell me they're fucking in love to get me into bed. Then when they've had their fill of my body, they move on to fucking greener pastures! I'm fucking sick of it Lance! I'm so sick of being alone, of being a fucking sex toy, of not being fucking loved!"
"Christian, honey, not having a boyfriend doesn't mean you're alone," Lance put in. "You have a brother and brother-in-law who love you, and you have lots of great friends too."
"It's not the same!" Christian exclaimed. "I - I want love, and affection, and really hot sex that means something!"
"You're not even 30, you have plenty of time to find a guy," Lance told him gently.
"Almost 30. Too fucking old." Christian sighed, wiping at his eyes, which were swollen but now dry of tears. "Bradshaw left me. He left me for that fucking scrawny little 23 year old whore, Brian Kendrick. Called me and told me over the fucking phone!"
"Christian, I'm so sorry." Lance took his friend's hand and squeezed it comfortingly. "He's just a jerk who can't see how great a guy you are."
"Right. It's always their fault." Christian sighed, turning away from Lance and closing his eyes. "Just leave me alone," he whispered.
Lance hated to see his good friend in pain, but he didn't know how
he could comfort him. He tucked Christian into bed, then headed to bed
himself.
"Christian! Baby are you ok?"
Lance jolted awake, sitting bolt upright and staring at the intruders who were in their room. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was only 8 am in the morning. Hunter was sitting in the middle of Christian's bed, the smaller blonde cradled in his arms. Booker was standing at the end of Christian's bed, his arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face.
"I can't believe that asshole did that to you!" Hunter exclaimed. "You should've called me, baby, you know I would've been here in the blink of an eye."
"I didn't wanna disturb you," Christian muttered. "Book would've been mad."
"He would've dealt," Hunter stated. "My best friend having a crisis is far more important than us having sex. We are gonna stay right by your side baby, we're gonna get you un-depressed and when you're ready, we're gonna fix you up with a nice man. And don't forget, both Book and I are available for comfort sex if you need it."
"Hunter," Booker growled. "What did I tell you about volunteering me for ‘comfort sex' with your friends?"
Hunter frowned at his lover. "Book, it's a proven fact that comfort sex is very healthy for people! You need to be a good friend to Christian, and if he needs some comfort sex to help him feel better, then you shouldn't object to providing it! You know there's nothing wrong with couples sleeping with other people, as long as ther're both ok with it and they're both in the room. Now stop being picky, this isn't about you, it's about my poor baby!" He turned back to Christian, who looked a bit brighter from the attention he was receiving. "Do you need some comfort sex baby? We can ask Lance to leave if you do."
"Nah, Hunt, I'm ok." Christian actually managed a little smile. "But I'll keep the offer in mind."
"Ok. Remember, if you just wanna watch Book and I have sex, that works too," Hunter assured him.
"Hunter!" Booker growled warningly.
Hunter rolled his eyes, hugging Christian against his strong chest. "Can we take you out to breakfast honey? Rent a funny movie for you? Buy you something pretty?"
"You can buy me breakfast after I shower," Christian stated. He pulled back from Hunter, gazing at him hopefully. "You know I really didn't wanna be with that jerk Bradshaw anyway. Did you mean it when you said you could fix me up? With who?"
"I was thinking of Chuck Palumbo," Hunter replied. "According to Billy, he's a total sweetheart, very polite, great manner, total gentleman. And I hardly have to tell you how hot he is! But he's really shy, Billy says he doesn't date much at all. Nunzio's been trying to fix him up ever since they got their little group together, and he thinks you two would be perfect together! Chuck's a big ol' teddy bear with lots of love to give, and according to Billy, he's only ever slept with 3 men in his whole life, and not until after he dated them for at least a few months."
"Sounds nice." Christian smiled, looking happy about the possibility. "You really think we'd get along?"
"Oh yeah." Hunter nodded. "But, I want you to take some time to yourself before you go out with him, ok? You need time to recover from being dumped before you're ready to start again. And remember, comfort sex is healthy!"
"Hunter!" Booker reprimanded.
"Don't interrrupt unless you've got something constructive to add," Hunter chided his lover. He smiled at Christian, giving the pretty blonde a kiss on the forehead. "Never forget, sweetie, finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is sweet, but skipping along on a rainbow is pretty damn great too!"
Christian chuckled, giving Hunter an affectionate squeeze, then standing and running a hand through his disheavled golden locks. "Ok, I'm gonna shower, then we can go out and look for the right lepracon for me!" He grinned, almost bouncing into the bathroom.
Lance stared after him, amazed by his friend's most recent change of heart. He jumped when Hunter's hand fell onto his shoulder, looking up at the smiling blonde.
"So, Lance," Hunter began, grinning at the other man, "got any romantic prospects on your horizon?"
"I - I'm married," Lance stuttered.
"Oh. Right." Hunter shrugged, winking coyly. "Well, if you ever have problems and need some comfort sex - "
"Oh that's it!" Booker marched over, grabbing Hunter by the hair and
dragging him out the door, leaving Lance staring with wide eyes.