Content: Mature subject matter, implied m/m slash.
Character/s: Chris Jericho, Hunter
Disclaimer: I own NO ONE depicted in these fics. I am not endorsed by any person, corporation, federation, promotion, etc., nor do I receive any monies for writing sick and twisted tales of their imagined goings-on. Inspired by "This Is The Life" by Weird Al Yankovic. Lyrics, quotations, etc. used without permission. No infringement or disrespect to the various artisans is intended, so please don't sue me.
* * *
The lithe form of Chris Jericho stood in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing away a few non-existent wrinkles in his attire. The lighting was just right for him to notice the skillful way the makeup department had covered up the small hickey on his neck. He chuckled to himself, not really upset over the slight marring of his appearance.
"Damn, guess I'll have to tell the next one to ease up a little, huh?"
Chris made no secret of the fact that he was very much in demand. There was something about his cocky demeanor and unbridled sex appeal that affected nearly everyone he came in contact with, men and women alike. And Chris was never one to turn down a good time. 'A walking aphrodisiac' he had been called. Truer words were never spoken.
Before tending to his hair, Chris strolled over to the countertop where he'd placed his portable CD player. Such an important occasion called for music, and he had the perfect song in mind as he readied himself for yet another edition of his 'show within a show.' He moved with the grace of a panther, hips and shoulders rolling with the easy gait of a man who has everything he could possibly want in the world. A great job, a fantastic lifestyle, more money than he knew what to do with it, and a beautiful reflection to boot.
He picked up his hairbrush and turned on the CD player before moving to stand in front of the mirror once more, marveling at the way the shiny fabric clung to his sculpted body. He cocked his head to the side as the song started up, a boyish smile curling the corner of his mouth. Inwardly, he patted himself on the back for having such exceptional taste. In clothes, in music, in bed partners. Yes, every day was a good day to be Chris Jericho.
I eat filet mignon seven times a day
My bathtub's filled with Perrier
What can I say
This is the life
I buy a dozen cars when I'm in the mood
I hire somebody to chew my food
I'm an upwardly mobile dude
This is the life
Of course, being the showman he was, Chris couldn't contain himself for long and began singing and dancing in front of the mirror, using the hairbrush as a makeshift microphone. He felt every word, every note of the song electrify him as he psyched himself up for his entrance. A perfect song for a perfect guy. He pitied any man who wasn't him. Oh, sure, he'd go back to their hotel rooms, or if he was feeling particularly accommodating, invite them back to his. All so they could have a little taste of his greatness. But that was all they were going to get. Just a memory of the best night of their lives. No one owned Chris Jericho and no one ever would.
They say that money corrupts you
But I can't really tell
I got the whole world at my feet
And I think it's pretty swell
I got women lined up outside my door
They've been waitin' there since the week before
Who could ask for more
This is the life
He tossed his hair back as he basked in the imagined applause and adulation, picturing roses and phone numbers being tossed at his feet. Who could ever wonder how he had gotten as far as he had in such a short period of time? Talent, ability, arrogance, and persistence. That was it. Chris could picture all the envious glares and hear the snide comments that always came his way. It wasn't his fault everyone else was so inferior. Their jealousy was the measuring stick by which Chris gauged his success.
You're dead for a real long time
You just can't prevent it
So if money can't buy happiness
I guess I'll have to rent it
Yeah, every day I make the front page news
No time to pay my dues
I got a million pairs of shoes
This is the life
How dull things must have been in the company before he came along. He marveled at how anybody could not envy him and his tremendous success. And as Chris so often said, "it's not arrogance if it's the truth." Some people just weren't cut out for brilliance, he guessed
I got a solid gold Cadillac
I make a fortune while I sleep
You can tell I'm a living legend
Not some ordinary creep
No way, I'm the boss, the big cheese
Yeah, I got this town on its knobby little knees
And I can do just what I please
This is the life
Chris continued to dance as the song wound to an end, continuing to picture vast throngs of people waiting in line just for the chance to touch him, shake his hand, breathe the same air as him. He was the Golden Boy of the WWE and he was going to milk it for all it was worth. Oh sure, there was a chance, a VERY slight chance that someday his star would fade, the fans would no longer pop for him, the one night stands would become fewer and farther between. But until that day, it wasn't a matter Chris would dwell on.
That's right, I'm the king, number one
I buy monogrammed Kleenex by the ton
I pay the bills, I call the shots
I grease the palms, I buy the yachts
One thing I can guarantee
The best things in life, they sure ain't free
It's such a thrill just to be me
This is the life
This is the life
As the song finished, Chris ended up facing the mirror, the hairbrush held inches away from his full, pouting mouth. He smirked at his reflection before smoothing down his hair and patting at his jacket. Yes, he was fired up and ready to hit the ramp, ready for another installment of the Highlight Reel.
A soft voice behind him caused him to startle. "If you're quite done prancing about like a show pony..."
Chris moved slightly to spot Hunter's reflection in the mirror. He cast a lazy smile over his shoulder and arched a single brow in unconscious imitation of Hunter. "Yes?"
"You're on in five," Hunter answered, fighting back the affectionate smile that threatened to spoil his illusion of detachment. How alike they were. How very alike.
"Buzzkill," was Chris' only response. He flashed a brilliant smile at Hunter before breezing past him without another word. He made sure to add a little extra bounce in his step, a little more sway to his hips.
Once Chris was gone, Hunter let his guard down enough to shake his head in amusement at the smaller man's antics. He turned to leave the room but not before catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Unable to resist, he stepped closer so that he was practically nose to nose with his own reflected image. After carefully examining his own appearance and finding no flaws, he gave his reflection a jaunty wink before leaving the dressing room.
Character/s: Chris Jericho, Hunter
Disclaimer: I own NO ONE depicted in these fics. I am not endorsed by any person, corporation, federation, promotion, etc., nor do I receive any monies for writing sick and twisted tales of their imagined goings-on. Inspired by "This Is The Life" by Weird Al Yankovic. Lyrics, quotations, etc. used without permission. No infringement or disrespect to the various artisans is intended, so please don't sue me.
* * *
The lithe form of Chris Jericho stood in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing away a few non-existent wrinkles in his attire. The lighting was just right for him to notice the skillful way the makeup department had covered up the small hickey on his neck. He chuckled to himself, not really upset over the slight marring of his appearance.
"Damn, guess I'll have to tell the next one to ease up a little, huh?"
Chris made no secret of the fact that he was very much in demand. There was something about his cocky demeanor and unbridled sex appeal that affected nearly everyone he came in contact with, men and women alike. And Chris was never one to turn down a good time. 'A walking aphrodisiac' he had been called. Truer words were never spoken.
Before tending to his hair, Chris strolled over to the countertop where he'd placed his portable CD player. Such an important occasion called for music, and he had the perfect song in mind as he readied himself for yet another edition of his 'show within a show.' He moved with the grace of a panther, hips and shoulders rolling with the easy gait of a man who has everything he could possibly want in the world. A great job, a fantastic lifestyle, more money than he knew what to do with it, and a beautiful reflection to boot.
He picked up his hairbrush and turned on the CD player before moving to stand in front of the mirror once more, marveling at the way the shiny fabric clung to his sculpted body. He cocked his head to the side as the song started up, a boyish smile curling the corner of his mouth. Inwardly, he patted himself on the back for having such exceptional taste. In clothes, in music, in bed partners. Yes, every day was a good day to be Chris Jericho.
I eat filet mignon seven times a day
My bathtub's filled with Perrier
What can I say
This is the life
I buy a dozen cars when I'm in the mood
I hire somebody to chew my food
I'm an upwardly mobile dude
This is the life
Of course, being the showman he was, Chris couldn't contain himself for long and began singing and dancing in front of the mirror, using the hairbrush as a makeshift microphone. He felt every word, every note of the song electrify him as he psyched himself up for his entrance. A perfect song for a perfect guy. He pitied any man who wasn't him. Oh, sure, he'd go back to their hotel rooms, or if he was feeling particularly accommodating, invite them back to his. All so they could have a little taste of his greatness. But that was all they were going to get. Just a memory of the best night of their lives. No one owned Chris Jericho and no one ever would.
They say that money corrupts you
But I can't really tell
I got the whole world at my feet
And I think it's pretty swell
I got women lined up outside my door
They've been waitin' there since the week before
Who could ask for more
This is the life
He tossed his hair back as he basked in the imagined applause and adulation, picturing roses and phone numbers being tossed at his feet. Who could ever wonder how he had gotten as far as he had in such a short period of time? Talent, ability, arrogance, and persistence. That was it. Chris could picture all the envious glares and hear the snide comments that always came his way. It wasn't his fault everyone else was so inferior. Their jealousy was the measuring stick by which Chris gauged his success.
You're dead for a real long time
You just can't prevent it
So if money can't buy happiness
I guess I'll have to rent it
Yeah, every day I make the front page news
No time to pay my dues
I got a million pairs of shoes
This is the life
How dull things must have been in the company before he came along. He marveled at how anybody could not envy him and his tremendous success. And as Chris so often said, "it's not arrogance if it's the truth." Some people just weren't cut out for brilliance, he guessed
I got a solid gold Cadillac
I make a fortune while I sleep
You can tell I'm a living legend
Not some ordinary creep
No way, I'm the boss, the big cheese
Yeah, I got this town on its knobby little knees
And I can do just what I please
This is the life
Chris continued to dance as the song wound to an end, continuing to picture vast throngs of people waiting in line just for the chance to touch him, shake his hand, breathe the same air as him. He was the Golden Boy of the WWE and he was going to milk it for all it was worth. Oh sure, there was a chance, a VERY slight chance that someday his star would fade, the fans would no longer pop for him, the one night stands would become fewer and farther between. But until that day, it wasn't a matter Chris would dwell on.
That's right, I'm the king, number one
I buy monogrammed Kleenex by the ton
I pay the bills, I call the shots
I grease the palms, I buy the yachts
One thing I can guarantee
The best things in life, they sure ain't free
It's such a thrill just to be me
This is the life
This is the life
As the song finished, Chris ended up facing the mirror, the hairbrush held inches away from his full, pouting mouth. He smirked at his reflection before smoothing down his hair and patting at his jacket. Yes, he was fired up and ready to hit the ramp, ready for another installment of the Highlight Reel.
A soft voice behind him caused him to startle. "If you're quite done prancing about like a show pony..."
Chris moved slightly to spot Hunter's reflection in the mirror. He cast a lazy smile over his shoulder and arched a single brow in unconscious imitation of Hunter. "Yes?"
"You're on in five," Hunter answered, fighting back the affectionate smile that threatened to spoil his illusion of detachment. How alike they were. How very alike.
"Buzzkill," was Chris' only response. He flashed a brilliant smile at Hunter before breezing past him without another word. He made sure to add a little extra bounce in his step, a little more sway to his hips.
Once Chris was gone, Hunter let his guard down enough to shake his head in amusement at the smaller man's antics. He turned to leave the room but not before catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Unable to resist, he stepped closer so that he was practically nose to nose with his own reflected image. After carefully examining his own appearance and finding no flaws, he gave his reflection a jaunty wink before leaving the dressing room.