Remote control in hand, Kane examined the scene. Something was amiss. The three men assembled around the card table was a regular Saturday night occurrence. Two unlit cigars sat cradled in the ridged edges of an ashtray. The apartment was a smoke-free zone. Mark – Kane's older brother – shuffled a deck of cards while their two house guests popped the tabs on what would be the first in a long line of beers.

Kane finally put his finger on what was out of place. "Are those… Oreos?"

Mark threw him a sidelong look. "Yes," he responded. "They are. Since someone has a problem with us betting real money… I'm not naming names… Just follow the tilt of my head." He tilted his head in Kane's direction. "The regular ones are twenty-five. Double-stuffed are fifty and the golden Oreos are worth one hundred bucks."

It was a good system, Kane had to admit. That way he did not have to lecture his brother about losing his share of the rent. Again. Not that Kane had much better of a track record when it came to addictive behavior. He was about two steps from Ebayers Anonymous himself.

"Don't get crumbs everywhere," complained Kane. "I just cleaned the kitchen this afternoon."

John Bradshaw – one of Mark's old fraternity brothers – chomped on the end of his unlit stogie. "Goodness, Martha… Prison sure has changed you."

For the sake of his brother and the maintenance of a civil living arrangement, Kane refrained from pouring a beer over Bradshaw's head. The man would likely have been more concerned with the waste of a perfectly good beer than the assault.

There was a knock at the door. None of the men at the table stirred.

"Don't worry," growled Kane. "I'll get that."

On his way to the door, Kane heard one of the men mumble, "You just can't find good help these days."

Chris Jericho stood on the other side of the door. He had a zebra-striped laptop tucked under one arm. It was only that morning that Kane had offered up his IT expertise. Chris' sudden arrival was a pleasant surprise.

"Chris, right?" Kane pretended to barely remember the man's name. However, the ear-to-ear grin was probably a dead give away that Kane had had Chris on his mind for quite some time. He stepped aside, motioning for Chris to enter. "What brings you to these parts?"

Kane wanted to kick himself in the butt the minute the words left his mouth. Not only had he asked a more-than-obvious question. He'd actually employed the phrase "these parts". Kane sounded like he'd just stepped out of a Bonanza rerun.

"I know why you're here," interjected Kane before Chris could get a word in. "I can see why you're here. I'm not blind. Not that I have anything against blind people. I don't know any personally, but I'm sure they are wonderful." While his brain screamed Shut up! , his mouth interpreted the message as Keep going! You're doing a great job!

"Kane!" shouted Mark. "If you're gonna talk that man to death, do it in the next room. I'm trying to bet over here!"

Leading Chris through the living room, Kane whispered, "That's my brother. He's got mental issues. It's really sad. Some days he thinks he's Tinkerbell."

Smirking, Chris whispered back, "Who does he think he is today?"

As they entered Kane's bedroom, they heard Mark yell, "You boys be sure to keep that door open! And no funny business!"

Kane slammed his door shut. "He thinks he's someone I won't kill."

"If you need help disposing of the body," Chris suggested, "I know a guy that owns a chainsaw and doesn't ask questions."

Head tilted to the side, Kane queried, "Do you really?"

"Oh, yes," said Chris. "But he's a little weird. And his brother has a thing about hamburgers. They're quite good, so I don't mind."

"He doesn't… make the hamburgers out of people, does he?"

"Nooo…" Chris took a seat in a nearby folding chair. "The Hardys are not Hannibals. Matt just likes meat. And so does Jeff, but in an entirely different way." Chris realized he had just outed his best friend.

Kane reached for Chris' laptop. "What seems to be the problem?"

"He has absolutely no social life," replied Chris. "Which leaves him too much time to meddle in mine."

Pausing, arm outstretched, Kane blinked several times. The man was a little screwy, he thought to himself. But he was a cute kind of screwy and Kane could live with that. "I was talking about the computer."

He's even cuter when he blushes, noted Kane.

"Umm… About that…" Chris' knee bobbed up and down like the needle of a sewing machine. "I may have exaggerated the extent of the damage." He ran his fingers nervously through his closely cropped blond hair. "She's very resilient."

"She?" Kane placed the laptop on his desk and booted it up.

"Lucinda," explained Chris. "Her name is Lucinda. She's got a five hundred gigabyte hard drive with an i5 Dual Core Processor and eight gigabytes of RAM.

Kane raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. You know your stuff." Mark thought a floppy disk was a condition of erectile dysfunction.

"I know what I like."

From the tome of Chris' voice, Kane wondered if he was referring to the machine or to… other things. Wishful thinking.

The picture on the desktop took Kane by surprise. "Whoa… Those are some big…"

Peering over the man's massive shoulder, Chris swore under his breath. "That was Comic-Con and Jeff insisted we take a picture. She was an impressive Wonder Woman. I'm not sure if the boobs were real… Or if she was really a she…" He decided to come clean about the computer. "And there's nothing wrong with the computer."

Chris's breath flickered across the back of Kane's neck. Moist heat spread across his skin, raising goose bumps. The disregard for Kane's personal space made thinking difficult. "Are you telling me that there is nothing wrong with your computer?"

"Yes, Kane." Befuddlement suited him, Chris thought.

"Then why did you…" Kane swiveled his chair to face Chris. They sat nearly nose to nose. With so little distance between them, Chris' features came into extreme focus. The slightly paler blue of his eyes, which were slightly lighter than Kane's. The delicate slope of his nose. The sweeping flush of red across his cheeks. The fullness of his bottom lip and its near-perfect shade of pink.

"Kane?"

He found the movement of Chris' mouth fascinating. "Huh?"

"You were saying something?"

"Probably." Kane's train of thought had derailed while crossing into Sin City.

"About my computer," prompted Chris. "You probably think it's kinda weird, don't you?"

Kane thought no such thing. Well, maybe it was a bit odd. Yet his own brother was betting with Oreos, so Kane had no room to judge. "I'm sure you have a perfectly logical reason."

He did not know Chris at all. "Not so much," Chris conceded. "I just used it as an excuse to come see you."

This did not compute properly for Kane. Not the idea that Chris looked forward to seeing him. But that the man would go to such lengths. While Kane had been wondering if his seven-foot frame would prove to be too intimidating for a friendship to form, Chris was plotting ways to get to see him again. How bizarre.

"You do realize," started Kane, "that you could have dropped by anytime you liked? Except between seven and eight in the evening on weekdays. That's when Mark watches The Young & The Restless on SoapNet. He does not take too kindly to disturbances. Especially when someone is having a baby with someone else's husband."

Chris breathed a sigh of relief. He reclined against the door. "Well, that's good to know. So that means you haven't rescinded your invitation even in the face of overwhelming evidence that I can be, as my best friend prefers to phrase it, more harebrained than a bunny rancher?"

Before Kane could reply, the bedroom door swung open. The momentum sent Chris sprawling face first into Kane's lap.

"Ron's eaten all the double-stuffed," Mark said, by way of greeting. "So we thought maybe you…" His voice trailed to nothing as he surveyed the scene in his brother's room. The blond man Kane had failed to introduce properly knelt on the floor, hands clutching Kane's thighs. Both appeared visibly shaken. Mark quickly put two and two together, resulting in a conclusion he was not prepared to deal with. "Never mind." He shut the door as swiftly as he'd opened it.

For a moment, neither Chris no Kane said a word. They did not move. They avoided eye contact.

"Does your brother think…"

"Yup."

"Is he gonna tell his buddies?"

"No, he's taking this one to his grave."

Chris paused. "Should I… get up now?"

It was Kane's turn to pause. "Can you think of any reason to stay down there?"

Slowly, Chris nodded his head. "I have a suggestion or two worth discussing. Of course, you'll have to buy me dinner first."

Kane mulled it over. "You like steak?"

From the living room, they heard Mark holler, "For the love of God, don't open the door! Your face will melt off like those Nazis in Raiders of the Lost Ark!"

END