A/N: Now I know it's been awhile since I've updated a few things, but life does tend to get in the way sometimes. Starting a new job, putting my son into school, so I don't get as much time to get my serious stuff done...not that this fic is serious, but still...I apologize to you my readers for slacking, buttttttt, since I train from 4pm to 1 am Mon-Fri I do have sometime to daydream in class get some stuff written. Like this new chapter. So if you're a fan of this random and bound for disaster fic then sit back and enjoy!

As usual I don't own these men, I don't know their sexual preference, and I don't get paid to write this. So if you sue, you're wasting your time, my time and YOUR money. ;-) With that out of the way lets get this party started. Booyahkasha

The younger man looked absolutely horrible; his lively demeanor subdued and his eyes pinked by drink and lack of sleep. His normally gelled locks were drooping over his forehead and his was gravelly when he snarled at those that chose to disturb him. After just sitting and watching those be turned away with cold and cutting remarks Bret hesitantly moved over and plopped himself down in the pool chair next to Chris as if he hadn't even realized that the grumpy Canadian was there. He hear Chris mutter to himself and turned his head, acting surprised to see Chris there.

"Hey, how's things...say, why the long face Irvine?"

"Why the nosey attitude Hart?"

The snappish tone only made Bret start but he was suddenly uncertain as to why he had decided to but in in the first place. It was obvious that Chris was missing his dark haired companion and while Bret was certain that once they got back onto speaking terms that things would smooth out, he wasn't quite sure what could be done to get them into a civil conversation if Chris was yelling and snapping at everyone. Bret shook his head with a small laugh, raising his hands in front of him defensively.

"Hey hot shot, I was only curious. You're biting the head off of someone that wanted to help someone that looked like they were having a rough time." Bret held his tongue as Chris turned pink but winked with a smile before he continued. "But I understand, I mean if Mark and I were fighting and we stopped talking I'd be pretty ticked off and moody too."

"Yeah well...stupid people, nosey people deserve to be barked at." Chris retorted, blushing but not correcting himself or saying sorry for insulting Bret indirectly.

He pursed his lips, glaring as Matt and Drew walked past; the blonde Scotsman practically hanging off of Matt's arm and simpering like a silly school girl. His eyes dilated and Bret heard him muttering under his breath again, the only words he caught being some that would make a sailor blush.

"Who needs Hardy and his loose ass anyways. He wasn't good for anything more than a warm body to fuck when I needed to anyways." He snarled as he slammed his sunglasses down on his nose.

"As opposed to sleeping with a cold body."

A smile quirked the corners of Chris' mouth and his eyes seemed to twinkle just a bit as he looked over the rims of his glasses at Bret.

"Well not everyone is Jacobs and gets wood from the dead. Although you seem too, after all you are messing around with the DeadMan."

"Shhh, don't tell everyone." Bret said with a laugh and a head shake. "So what's got you and Hardy at each others throats? Last I had heard you were happily planning a wedding."

Chris' scowl returned and he turned his head to stare at the two men across the pool; the sour look deepening when he seen Drew perched in Matt's lap. The quick flash of longing that passed over his face as he studied the dark haired man tugged at Bret's heart strings, the feeling doubling when he seen the same look cross Matt's face when Chris looked away.

"You see that foreign growth in his lap? You can't miss it, it's blonde, talks funny, loose as a goose trying to walk on an iced over pond."

"What's Drew got to do with this?"

Bret tried valiantly not to laugh but Chris' description of Drew was too funny and a small snort still managed to get past his lips. Chris' baleful glare however helped him get a hold of himself and a tiny hiccuped laugh later Chris cleared his throat and went on.

"That Assclown thinks he can muscle in on my man. Everyone knows that that Hardy has my name on him, and uet this, this Scottish Parasite think that just because he gets down and worships the almighty cock of Vince McMahon that he can get anything he wants."

"Sooo, instead of being over there to keep anything from happening you're sitting here scowling and being pissed off. Somehow I think that is counter productive."

"I wouldn't be if that other Assclown hadn't of told me to butt out and quit going through his phone." Chris grumped as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared from behind his sunglasses.

"..."

"What?"

"You went through his phone?"

"Yeah."

"Why?

"Because LochNess texts him at all hours of the night. I just wanted answers. Am I wrong to want that?"

Chris' face crumpled and twin silver drops leaked down over his cheeks, further breaking Bret's heart and firmly encamping him on Chris' side of the argument.

"Hey now, I'm sure if you go over and just talk to Matt it'll smooth things out."

"No, Matt said...he said if I can't trust him then we don't need to be together."

The tears fell faster and the only thing that Bret could think to do was to pull the shaking man into his lap awkwardly rub his back as he murmured nonsense soothing sounding words into his ear. The light feel of lips on his neck startled him and pulled away quickly; his eyes wide as he started at the sobbing man.

"Chris!"

"I-I'm sorry, I just miss the contact, the simply feeling of security that comes from loving caresses."

"Then go get him Chris, ignore what he said and get your lover, tell him, explain things to him, let him see how this affecting you Chris. If he truly loves you then seeing you so obviously hurt will change his mind."

Chris nodded and after removing his glasses, wiped his eyes; looking one more over towards Matt and crying out when he seen Drew attached to Matt's throat with his hands wandering all over Matt's torso and below.

"Go Chris!" Bret urged.

When Chris made no movement Bret pushed Chris from his lap, sending him stumbling in the direction of his estranged lover. Slowly Bret followed; keeping his distance and standing to the far right of the cabana where Matt and Drew were sitting intimately. The sudden presence of someone besides him made him jump but he let out a sigh of relief when he seen it was only Mark. Just as he opened his mouth to say something to Mark a loud splash rent the air and when he turned back he seen Drew breaking water and gasping for air. Before Matt could lay into Chris over it, the blonde man grabbed his lover and pulled him into a hard kiss; his hands folding possessively around his back to hold him close. With a smile Bret turned and pulled Mark close, tilting his head up to smile at him.

"See, now it wasn't that hard...was it?"

Bret's words were followed by a loud slap and a second splash, causing both men to turn their attention back to the two lovers by the pool.

"Hart Attack, I think yer plan failed."

As Matt stormed off Bret let out a groan and buried his face in Mark's chest, damning stubborn men to hell.

"No, it's just that you Southerners are so bullheaded."

"Bu-bullheaded? You Canadians are just control freaks."

"Control freaks?"

"You heard me, y'all have to have everything yer way or no way at all."

Bret moved back and crossed his arms over his chest; his eyes narrowed at the tall man in front of him.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah it is. I wanted nothing to do with Hardy and Irvine's fight, yet ya had to go and put yer nose in where it dinnit belong."

"Oh so I made you buddy up to Hardy?"

"No but right now his company is looking better and better."

With an angry snarl Mark pushed past Bret and followed after Matt, catching up easily to the younger man then disappearing into the crowd with him. With a deep sigh Bret turned and offered Chris his hand; pulling him from the water and offering him a towel to wrap up in.

"Now what?"

"No idea."

"Damn Southerners."

The chorused curse made them smile and they grabbed their things before heading back into the hotel to plot.