Title: Please, Don't Leave Me

Rated: M (Mature)

Genre(s): Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Drama

Pair(s): Chris/Phil, Jeff/Adam

Summary: Chris never meant to hurt his lover. But now, in a less than five-minute video, he broke the other man's heart. Can he win him back?

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, besides my OCs. I also don't own any of the songs mentioned.

Warning: Slash, Mentioned Alcoholism

OOOO

Phil stood under the harsh spray of the shower, hot water hitting his skin hard and trailing patterns over the pale flesh. He closed his eyes, trying to mix the tears with the water. He didn't want the world to see him like this. Broken. Shattered. Shaken. He bit his lip hard, so hard that blood bubbled to the surface. Licking it away, he reached for the soap and lathered it between his hands. The bar slid out from between his hands and hit the shower floor with a thud, and Phil found himself mesmerized as the water slowly started to wear away at it. Shaking it off, he reached down and took hold of it, before he resumed his shower.

Truth be told, he could have been back at the hotel by now. He had sat in the locker room for a half hour after the show, thinking. And avoiding. Yes, he had become particularly talented in that area. Before, avoiding his lover would be something that he wouldn't even dream of. But after tonight… he couldn't do it anymore. Chris had crossed a line. What business did he have airing Phil's business all over live television? The other man had been so smug about it too, like he didn't even care. Like he didn't care about Phil's life. Like he wanted him to drink. But Phil wouldn't do it. Even if the other man beat him within an inch of his life at Wrestlemania, he would never end up like him…

When the water finally became cold, he killed the stream and stepped out into the icy locker room. A thin towel around his waist, he fished out his clothes and started to change in the shower stall. Jeans, his 'Best in the World' t-shirt, and some old sneakers. It wasn't what he had originally come in with. The Chris Jericho t-shirt sat at the bottom of his bag, looking oddly neglected. Phil took it out, looking it over with a critical eye. And then he tossed it onto the wet floor of the shower stall. It looked better there anyway, he reasoned. With that, he started to walk back toward the locker room… only to find an unwelcome presence. Chris Irvine. What the hell did he want?

"Phil, thank God I finally found you! Do you know how worried I was?" Chris continued to ramble on, oblivious to the more-than-obvious tension in Phil's body. "Were you… are those tears?"

"What the hell do you want, Irvine?" Phil didn't mince words. He tried hard to steady his voice, but it just didn't work.

"What do you mean 'what the hell do I want'? I was worried about you because no-one's seen you since your match with The Miz. I just wanted to make sure that you were OK." Chris said, exasperated.

"It's a miracle! The Great Chris Irvine, actually concerned about someone else." Phil snarked.

"Don't be a smartass, Phil."

Olive eyes narrowed at that statement. "Do you need facts to back it up? How about breaking up with Evan in a text? Or dumping Shawn on live television? Or… and here is where I really get confused… saying that you love me, and then telling the entire world that I'm a worthless screw up that I will end up just like my father!"

Chris's baby blues slowly started to widen. "Baby, you're not worthless. You're not a screw up. And I do love you, Phil. A stupid little feud isn't gonna change that."

"If you really loved me, then you wouldn't have done that."

Chris frowned. "Why is it so hard to believe that I love you, Phil?"

Phil frowned, trying to think of a reply that wouldn't be sarcastic and failing miserably. Instead, he bit down on his lip ring. Chris always hated when he did that. He said that he would tear his lip one of these days. Maybe the only reason he did it now was to annoy Chris, or maybe it was just because he needed something to do. Chris tried to reach for him, but Phil flinched away. Truthfully, he missed the older man's touch. Craved it, almost. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't look into the face of a liar. Because Chris had told him that he loved him, and then humiliated him in front of a live audience. It hurt to think like that, but that was the truth.

"I love you." Chris tried, but Phil wouldn't even look him in the eyes.

"No, you don't." Phil countered.

"Yes." When Phil started to turn away, Chris took hold of his wrist and pulled him backward. "I do. What do I have to do to make you believe me? Why can't you accept that I just want to make this better?"

Phil blinked slowly. "Because I know you. I've been by your side of five years. I can tell when you're really sorry, and those words have yet to come out of your mouth. If you were really sorry and wanted to make this better, you would've said so."

"I am sorry, baby." Chris gently rubbed the bony wrist that he still held in his hand. "If I could take it back, I would. Believe me. I would never try to hurt you."

"I wish I could believe that."

Chris felt his heart breaking at that. His boy didn't trust him, not anymore. He hadn't wanted to take that angle with the storyline, but Creative had insisted. He knew that it would hurt his lover, and he never wanted to do that. Finally, he released the man and watched as he put as much distance between them as he could. Smoothing a hand over his loose black hair, he tried to fight back the tears. Chris just continued to stare, unable to look away. But before he had the chance to speak again, there was a knock on the door. It was a representative from Creative, wanting to speak to him about next week's storyline.

"We have you in for a very special mixed tag-team match. We wanted to run the specifics by you, but if now isn't the time…" the man said, still on the other side of the door.

"It's fine!" Chris shot back. He went to look at Phil, to tell him that this wasn't over, but when he looked back, the other man had disappeared.

OOOO

Over the course of the next week, over two dozen videos of that five-minute segment had been uploaded on YouTube. For every fan of Punk, there seemed to be three for Chris Jericho. Comments varied from 'CM Drunk' to 'Y2J is the Best in the World'. Phil didn't check his Twitter account anymore, not wanting to see the hurtful words that people had to say. Did they think that they were talking to a machine? Did they think that he didn't have any feelings at all? That their words wouldn't hurt him? By the next RAW, he had thrown his phone into his suitcase and hadn't touched it in hours. The battery was probably dead, but he didn't care.

"This contest is a mixed tag-team match set for one fall! Introducing first, the team of Cody Rhodes and Daylee Hardy!" The crowd had a mixed reaction to the team – jeers directed toward Cody, and cheers for Daylee.

When the sun goes down, down, down, down,

Boy are you afraid of the dark, dark?

And when the lights go out, out, out, out,

Tell me, do you know where to start?

Both slid into the ring, the look of concentration a mirror image on both of their faces. "And their opponents, the team of Chris Jericho and Alanna Orton!"

Come on, Jericho

You know I got ya, yeah

One, Break the wall down

(Break down the walls)

The bell rang, and the match started. First off, it was Alanna and Daylee in the ring. A quick handshake started things off, before Alanna used that same hand to throw Daylee into the corner. Taking a few steps back, she landed a flying knee in the middle of Daylee's back. Dragging her by her hair into the middle of the ring, she landed several blows to the head in quick succession. It wasn't until the ref threatened to forcibly separate them that she backed off. But before Daylee could climb back to her feet, Alanna came back at her with a knee to the stomach, before she hooked her over and landed the Backbreaker.

Much to the surprise of the crowd, Daylee was the first to her feet. She climbed on top of Alanna, only about twenty pounds lighter than the other girl, and locked her legs around the ravenette's middle. With one harsh twist, she had locked in her own version of the gut-wrencher. Slowly, Alanna started to climb to her feet, but Daylee hooked her arms around her neck for the sleeper hold. Alanna was back on her knees within seconds. This was where Daylee was at her most dangerous. She might not have had the size advantage, but she was fast and undoubtedly strong. But then, Daylee eased off and jumped down. Alanna turned around, confused, only to walk into a high elbow.

Daylee made the tag to Cody. But by the time Cody made it into the ring, Alanna had already tagged Chris. Cody's eyes widened, and in a typical Cody Rhodes manner, he tagged Daylee on the arm and made a run for it. "What the hell, Cody?" Daylee screamed at him.

Cody just shrugged. "You can take him."

"Ladies and Gentleman, if you are just tuning in, you have missed the beginning of a very exciting match. Daylee and Alanna were first to enter the ring, and both made tags to their partners. However, at the last minute, Cody tagged Daylee back in. What's your take on this, Jerry?" Michael Cole asked.

"It was a foolish move by Cody Rhodes, that's what I think. Chris Jericho has been red-hot ever since his return to the WWE, and he doesn't care how he wins, only that he does." Jerry said.

Booker than adder his input. "And remember, Daylee was out with a knee injury six months ago. A total knee replacement isn't an easy thing to recover from, even at her age. If Chris targets that, it's all over."

"Then we can only pray that Chris has a little more respect for the Divas then he does for his fellow Superstars." Michael said.

And just then, the crowd went wild. Daylee had just splattered Chris with a Russian Leg Sweep. The ref quickly went over to ask if he was OK to continue. He barely had the opportunity to move out of the way as Daylee readied her next move. Interlocking her hands and arms with Cody's, she started to scale the ropes like they were a staircase. Leaning back a little bit, she waited until Chris was almost to his feet before pushing down and releasing Cody's hands, propelling herself into a back flip aimed at his stomach. She hit his chest, but it was close enough. Chris hit the canvas hard, and remained motionless.

"Now that's hot tag-team action!" Jerry Lawler exclaimed. "But wait, wait! He's not going to… he is! He has her in the Walls of Jericho! He has her in the Walls of Jericho!"

Daylee let out a choked whimper as Chris pulled back on her knees, subsequently making the tension in her back increase. Her entire body was on fire, and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and will it all away. There was really nothing she could do to break the submission hold either. The nearest rope was a foot away, and he easily weighed twice the amount that she did, which eliminated bucking him off. Another pained gasp slipped past her lips. She wouldn't tap out. The ref was down at eye level with her, trying to see if she wanted to quit. She shook her head avidly… she wouldn't give in so easily.

Booker took this opportunity to speak again. "She only has one chance now. If she can land her finisher, Pins and Needles, then she could win. But how will she get the leverage?"

In a flash, it happened. Daylee managed to free an arm and elbowed him in the knee cap. He released her, but his good knee still held her head down. She kicked up and he caught her foot, so she tried with the other. It produced the same result. He lifted her by her feet, almost as if she weighed nothing. Daylee was kind of worried that her boots would come off and she would fall head first onto the matt. But she didn't. Instead, she hooked her arms behind his legs and thrust his entire body forward. He went down on the canvas face-first, and was pinned immediately by Cody, who had tagged himself in at the last minute.

"The winners of this match, Cody Rhodes and Daylee Hardy!"

(Later That Night)

"Phil, I'm in pain and I really just want to come inside and sleep. Could you please open the door?" Chris felt like he was arguing with the wall. Well, in actuality, he was. Phil was hiding behind the door to their hotel room, not letting him inside.

Silence.

"Phil, as much as I love you, I don't really want to air our dirty laundry to the entire world because you've decided to be a bitch. Just let me inside and I'll sleep on the floor or something. I just need my stuff."

Seconds later, the door burst open. His suitcase was thrown out into the hallway, followed by various other items. His bottle of cologne – Phil's favorite fragrance no less – was tossed on the floor, the glass breaking on impact. The scent filled the hallway quickly, much too powerful to be appealing. His clothes littered the floor, some soaking up the liquid, others looking like they had seen better days. It looked like Phil had mixed his dirty and clean laundry into one gigantic mess, but that didn't really matter to Chris. All that mattered was that, not two minutes after the door had opened, it slammed closed once more.

"Phil, please, don't be like this! We need to talk!" Chris said.

"Apparently, I'm not important enough to merit a full conversation with. What, so there are no more guys from Creative here to offer you an angle that will make you look like even more of a bastard? Oh, wait, you already have that role in the bag." Phil said those words with such malice that it stung Chris.

"Baby -,"

"I want my lover back. The man who would punch someone for putting me down, instead of putting me down himself. The man who would buy me roses and chocolate, even if it is incredibly fattening, just for the hell of it. And then we would have the best welcome-back sex we've ever had. So, do me a favor and call me when he comes back."

"But, baby…" Chris trailed, unsure of how to continue. "He's standing right here. He's been here the whole time. That man… he never went anywhere."

But Phil wasn't listening anymore. So Chris just collected his stuff and walked away, a plan beginning to form in his head.

OOOO

Jeff stared at his best friend impatiently. "Would you stop asking so many fucking questions and go inside?"

Phil looked at Adam expectantly, knowing that he would rat if he kept on with the 'ever-watching eye'. It always freaked Adam out. "Is there something that I should know, Adam?"

Jeff looked at his husband knowingly. "If you rat, I'll have to tell Jay that you really do have his favorite pot and just don't want to give it back. I don't think Jay-Jay will be very happy to hear that, do you?"

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

Adam turned to Phil. "You're on your own!"

Adam took Jeff's hand, before both ran off toward the hotel elevator. Well, that had gotten him nowhere. So he swiped his keycard and entered inside the room, wondering why all of the lights were turned down. And then, there was the faint flicker of a candle in the distance. Suddenly, everything came into focus. Rose petals were scattered everywhere, and the soft scent of apples and cinnamon. Soft music played in the background, but Phil couldn't quite identify it. It sounded classical, but he couldn't be sure. But none of that mattered because, there in the middle of the bed, was a shirtless Chris Irvine, all slicked up with baby oil. He twirled a rose in his hand.

Chris slid off of the bed and handed Phil the rose. The blossom's sweet perfume mingled with the cologne that Phil adored, and the scent that was undeniably Chris. Slowly, Chris leaned forward and pressed his lips to the younger man's. Heat and raw passion radiated from them as they stumbled back toward the bed, both needing this more then they would ever admit aloud. Chris broke off first, taking small breaths, before he trailed kisses down Phil's chin and toward his neck. He stopped directly beneath Phil's ear, loving the loud moan that tore from the other man's throat as he teased the skin until it bruised.

"C-C-Chris." Chris smirked. He loved the fact that he could make Phil stutter. "Please."

"What do you want, baby?" Chris asked, before he slid the end of Phil's shirt up onto his chest and started lavishing his nipples with affection. Phil's breath soon became labored as he knotted his hand in Chris's blond locks.

"Fuck me. Please, Chris. God… touch me, kiss me, fuck me. Fucking do something! Please…" Phil was quickly unwinding, but it had been two weeks since they had last been intimate, and he needed this.

"You beg like a good little slut, don't you?"

"Only for you, baby. Only for you… AH!" Chris's hand snaked into Phil's pants, and he lost all coherent thought.

He smeared the thick pre-cum over the head, dragging his nail lightly over the slit, before he started to pump in fast, fluid motions. The head was swollen and almost purple, glistening beautifully in his arousal. Chris squeezed, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that Phil's eyes rolled back in his head and his back arched off of the bed. Phil let out a moan, fisting the blankets. He needed more.

And then, Chris lowered his head and took the entire length in his mouth, deep-throating immediately. Phil watched through half-lided eyes, watching his erection disappear into that wet heat. He held Phil down to the bed, barely able to restrain him from his frantic bucking. So, his little siren had missed him after all. All of the insecurities that had filled him before suddenly fluttered away, and he lifted his baby blues to look at Phil's pleasure-ridden face.

"Chris, please. I need you in me now!" Phil hissed as Chris dragged his tongue around the head, teasing the slit with a little more force than before.

"Your wish is my command, baby."

Phil didn't know when Chris had gotten the lube. But all of a sudden, two cold, slick fingers pressed to his entrance and slipped inside. Chris scissored them, trying to get his baby nice and prepared for him. After all that they had been through in the last two weeks, he didn't want to hurt him. After a moment, he added a third finger and started to pump them faster. Phil threw his head back, moaning loudly as he pushed down on the fingers, anxious for something longer and thicker.

Chris took that as a good sign. He undid his pants, not taking the time to pull them all the way off, and lined himself up at Phil's entrance. Smearing his pre-cum over the small pucker, he looked into Phil's beautiful olive eyes and thrusted in. They set a hard, fast pace from the start. It was punishing, it was animalistic, and both men loved it. It felt like an eternity ever since they had last been together like this. Phil hooked his legs around Chris's hips, pulling him in deeper as the man brushed over his prostate. Stars danced behind his eyes. He was so damn close…

The bed rocked beneath them with the ferocity of their frantic lovemaking. Neither could get close enough, kissing every inch of available skin. And then, Phil fell over the edge. His vision turned black as long streams of white coated his nether regions and Chris's stomach. Chris wasn't too far behind, biting down on the skin right above Phil's heart to form a new hickey as he exploded inside of him. Seconds later, Chris pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside his lover.

"I'm really sorry, baby." Chris said as he came down from his high. "I never meant to hurt you. All of this," he motioned to the candles, the roses… the chocolate, "is for you. I wanted to show you that I'm still the same man. And I will always be there for you."

"I know." Phil said. "Thank you."

"And… there's one more thing." Chris reached into the bedside table and pulled out a small box. He handed it to Phil. "You've made me the happiest man in the world, Phil. And whether you say yes or no, all that matters to me is that you're happy. I promise that I will try my best to never hurt you again. So, would you do me the honor of becoming my husband?"

Phil stared at him wide-eyed, before the tears started to form. He nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!"

Phil nestled down in his fiance's arms and closed his eyes. His home was with Chris, and he knew that he would never try to leave again.

OOOO

A/N: Please Review! I was really upset with Chris Jericho when he did this, so I just had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! Oh, and if you want me to write more Chris Jericho/Phil Brooks, let me know!