Jeff stepped out of the elevator without any of his usual bounce. He and Matt were never apart, so he knew this trip was going to be difficult for him. He was depressed and lonely already and it was still only Monday night, so he was dreading the end of the week when he was bound to feel a lot worse.

He couldn't work out what to do with himself. He felt almost as if he were naked, walking around without Matt. In a way he was, because he'd never had to fend for himself before. Matt had always insisted on taking care of everything for him. He'd always simply waited for Matt to tell him what they were doing that evening, and done as Matt said - he'd never made a decision for himself in his life, except what colour to dye his hair. Matt had never quite understood his hair-colouring fetish.

So when Chris had called to invite him up to his room for a drink, he'd been a little thrown. He didn't know what to say, so he tried to think what Matt would say if he were here. He came to the conclusion that if Matt were here they'd probably already be partying with Chris, so he'd agreed. Besides, there were only so many times he could count the tiles in the ceiling before his eyes started going funny from the patterns on them.

He walked along the corrider and stopped outside Chris' door, feeling horribly nervous. He knew it was silly, because Chris was one of his best friends. It wasn't a big deal that they were going to get shitfaced together. He shoved the feeling aside and knocked on the door, pushing it open when he heard Chris yell, "It's not locked."

"Hey Chris." He was embarrassed to hear his own voice; he sounded weak and pathetic.

"Jeff." Chris gave him a nod and a friendly smile. "Beer is it? Or are you wanting something stronger tonight?"

Jeff began to relax, soothed by Chris' cordial demeanour. He couldn't help feeling that everyone knew what he'd done, as if he were walking around with 'I fucked my own brother' tattooed on his forehead. Hearing Chris speak to him exactly the same way he normally did relieved him no end. "Just beer for now, thanks. I'm not an ageing alcoholic like some people I could mention."

"You trying to say something, Rainbow?" Chris attempted to look stern as he passed Jeff's beer over; he failed miserably.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Porridge." Jeff tried his best to look innocent, and he didn't do very well either.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

Jeff screwed up his forehead in concentration. "Roughly?"

"Roughly."

"Probably about two hundred, maybe two-fifty."

"And how many more times am I going to have to tell you before you listen to me?"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't hold out too much hope on that one." Jeff stretched out full length on the bed while Chris sprawled over the couch.

The Porridge nickname was a reference to Chris' hair, and had originated from the Goldilocks fairytale. Of their little group of friends, only Jeff and Matt could use it without fear of stinging comebacks, since when Jay had first come up with it Chris had retorted that Jay, Adam and Terry must be the three bears. On enquiring which bear he was supposed to be, Jay was immensely pissed off to be informed that he was Baby Bear. Or at least he was until it was pointed out that this made Adam Mummy Bear, at which time Adam very quickly overtook him in the irate snarling stakes.

Jeff and Chris were both sipping their drinks far more frequently than they really should have been. It looked like Chris was disturbed about something too, but Jeff couldn't see what Chris could possibly have to worry about.

"Like your necklace, man. That new?"

Jeff glanced down at his chest and smiled slightly. "Not exactly. I've had it, uh, since I was a kid, I just didn't used to wear it."

"Don't know why, it's really nice. What is it, an animal bone or something?"

"Something like that, yeah. And you're right, it is beautiful." Jeff's smile turned introspective as he recalled the trial and error process he'd gone through attempting to boil the flesh off the finger bone, although severing it at the first knuckle had been easy.

They made smalltalk for an hour or so, discussing films, games, music and clothes the same way they always did when Matt was there, but it was obvious to Jeff that something was bothering Chris. As he finished his third beer he decided he couldn't stand it anymore and asked Chris what was wrong.

Chris gave him a tight, forced smile, the 'I'm-completely-fucked-up-about-something-but-I'm-not-going-to-tell-you-what-it-is' smile Jeff had worn himself so many times, and replied, "Nothing. Everything's just peachy."

"Where are Adam and Jay? You lot are normally inseparable."

With a wry smile, Chris raised a hand to cup his ear and used the other to point at the wall. Trying to work out what he was supposed to be listening for, Jeff blushed when he heard a soft moan come from next door. "I see," he choked, then looked up at Chris with a frown. "Is that something to do with it?"

"I told you, nothing's wrong."

"Bullshit. I've played that role often enough myself to see right through it. What is it about them screwing that upsets you?" Jeff bit his lip realising he'd slipped up, but fortunately he'd hit on the right topic with Chris, who was now too wrapped up in his own misery to notice.

He watched Chris arguing silently with himself, trying to work out if he should say anything and how to put it. Finally, Chris looked back up at him. "Don't you ever... don't you ever envy them?"

"Huh? Envy them what?"

"Their love. Their trust. Their closeness. I've been around, but I can't imagine what it would be like to be kissed by someone who loves me, or even just genuinely cares about me. Everyone's always been with me either for my looks or because I'm the great Chris Jericho. Never because I'm me. I've always wondered what it would be like to have someone kiss ME, instead of just kissing my lips."

Jeff's heart went out to Chris, remembering how he'd felt before the night he'd taken it upon himself to tie his brother up and seduce him. He felt a pang of loneliness, knowing how far away his beloved was and how long he had to wait before he could see him again. He turned in on himself for a moment, allowing himself to feel the wrenching need to have his brother near him.

He thought about Matt's beauty, about how his throat constricted when Matt smiled. Unfortunately Matt wouldn't be smiling a whole hell of a lot in future, and it was a shame he hadn't done it more when he'd had the chance. His smile was so wicked, it made him look kind of roguish, impish even. And when it reached his eyes...

Jeff was jolted from his lovelorn reverie by the sound of a great, gulping sob, horrified to see upon looking up that Chris had started to cry. He was dumbstruck; he couldn't even move for a second, he was so shocked. Then the spell broke and he rushed across the room, gathering his weeping friend into his arms. He stroked Chris' hair and whispered to him that everything would be okay, that somehow things would work out.

He crooned softly in Chris' ear until he began to calm, his shoulders shaking and his breathing erratic. When Chris lifted his head from Jeff's chest he gave a small laugh and started to apologise between gasps for air. "I didn't mean to offload this on you, I just invited you up here hoping you could cheer me up. I'm sure things are difficult enough for you this week, what with Matt being away and all..."

"It's okay, Chris, really." Jeff pulled Chris back into his arms, feeling his body shudder with the aftermath of his outburst, pushing his hair back from his face and holding him tightly. "What are friends for, huh?"

Chris sniffled and tried to steady his respiration. "I made your shirt all soggy."

Jeff smiled at the childlike statement. "Forget the shirt. All that matters right now is making you feel better."

Chris began to tear up again. "I'm not asking for thunderbolts, I just want someone to honestly like me. I'm starting to wonder why I bother, getting up every day to an empty bed, going back to one at night. The only physical contact I have with anyone is in the ring, because I gave up being used a long time ago. What's wrong with me? What did I do that was so terrible I deserved this? Why aren't I allowed to have even a little comfort?"

Jeff thought for a moment, his heart twisting as he listened to Chris' plaintive questions, recognising them as questions he'd asked himself many times in the past. He considered how he could help Chris, what would have made him feel better when he'd felt like this and made a quick judgement call.

Still with one arm wrapped tightly around Chris' shoulders, he placed his fingers underneath Chris' chin and gently pushed his head up. When Chris turned wide, tear-stained eyes up to him he knew he'd made the right choice, and he slowly lowered his head, letting his lips brush gently against his friend's. He felt Chris melt into his chest and he pressed their lips together more firmly, Chris' still quivering from his crying.

Licking lightly to request entrance, Jeff invaded Chris' mouth softly and lovingly, taking his time to get to know every inch of it, encouraging Chris to kiss him back. They kissed until Chris' tears had abated, and long after. Eventually Jeff picked Chris up and half-carried him over to the bed, where he took off their boots and put him under the covers fully clothed, climbing in next to him and drawing him back into his embrace.

Kissing Chris wasn't like kissing Matt; there was none of the wild passion he shared with his brother, none of the mindless, undeniable need. It was nice though, and in a way it felt safer. The innocence was touching, and he knew he'd never regret his actions tonight. Finally, Jeff pulled Chris' head back to his chest and held him close while he fell into a peaceful sleep.

Jeff lay staring at the ceiling, thinking over what he'd done. When he got home, he'd have to tell Matt about it. But he felt sure that Matt would understand and forgive him; Chris was Matt's friend too, and Matt wouldn't have wanted to leave him hurting like that. It wasn't like it was some big tempestuous love-affair or anything, he'd just comforted a friend who'd needed him.

Sure he'd done the right thing, conscious of both Chris' head on his chest and the slight weight of the finger bone hung around his neck, he drifted off into sleep, knowing he had a big day ahead of him tomorrow.