"You...you wanted to see me?" Chris asked scuffling the toe of his shoe nervously. He didn't like the way his boss was looking at him, he knew what that looks was. Vince leered and pushed Chris onto his desk. "Oh, Chris..." Vince growled. "I want to do more than see you. And you will give to me, or I'll split you from Hardy for good." Vince leered, and trailed a finger down Jerichos' chest.
"That's why you shouldn't get a tattoo when trashed." Matt laughed as Chris stood in front of the mirror groaning. Matt just couldn't help but laugh so hard he was sprouting tears. Just below the waist band of Chris' briefs was a tattoo...it was meant to say Matt Hardy in flowing script...but "Matt" was spelled J-E-F-F.
Matt wrapped the scarf around one more time and tugged the hat down a little further, giving the fuzzy ball on the top a little flick. "Dad..." The word was followed by an eye roll. Chris just stood there trying not to laugh. "Our child has turned into a marshmallow." "Well, it is winter!" Matt defended, wondering if he should have made the kid wear another layer of socks.
"Fine then, don't eat it." Chris took the plate away and annoyed, shoved it into the fridge. "I'm not. I'd rather starve than eat that shit." The snobby kid glared at Chris who glared right back. Matt ducked his head down trying not to laugh. The two expressions were practically mirror images of each other. "You have a bad attitude." Chris stated. "You have a bad face." The kid shot back.
Chris stood in his sons doorway raising and eyebrow. The boy was sprawled out on his bed with a Chris Jericho action figure and he was putting a match to its face. "What are you doing?" Chris asked, worrying that any moment he was going to drop the match and send the bed up in flames. "What does it look like? I'm trying to burn your ugly ass face off 'cause I'm sick of seeing it."
Finally, after the week from hell had ended and the kids were put to bed Chris and Matt finally found some time for themselves. Having two toddlers running around the house was the very definition of chaos, especially when one of them had inherited Jeff's affinity for dare-devilish stunts. They'd just gotten to some great tongue action when a little sob broke them apart. Their little girl was standing in the doorway with big tears rolling down her face. "What's wrong baby?" Chris asked. "I hadda ba-bad dream." She sniffled. "Mon'ters..." She crawled up onto the bed and Matt tucked her under the covers and stroked her hair. Well, there was always tomorrow night.
Matt and Chris sat on the porch watching Jeff color on the driveway with the kids. He was drawing one of his abstract faces, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. When the three of them came back up to the house, Matt laughed at his brother. The grown man had more chalk smudges on his face than his children.
Matt smiled at Chris who was sprawled awkwardly on the couch, a Barbie doll on his chest, sleeping like he was in a coma. He got closer and was going to press a kiss to his husbands lips, but stopped seeing the word 'BITCH' written across Chris' forehead in black Sharpie. Matt frowned at the boy who was sitting in the chair giving him the most innocent looking face, as though he would do such thing.
"Where's my ring?" Chris ran around the house frantically trying to remember where he'd put it--he'd had to take it off the day before to reach down the toilet and fish out his daughters stuffed kitten that his son had poked down there. "Have you seen my ring?" Chris asked his son as he shuffled and moved clutter out of the way, looking anywhere and everywhere. "I gave it to a kid at school for a pack of cigarettes." He smirked. "You did not." Chris pulled out the couch cushions wondering if it had got down there somehow. "Wanna bet?" The boy fished out a pack of cigarettes and waved them around. When Chris tried to grab them away the kid bolted up the stairs. "YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!"
Chris ran out of the tent tripping over his feet and the remains of the fire from last night. Matt poked his head out and squinted at Chris as he picked himself up from the ground. "What's going on?" "There's a snake in my sleeping bag!" Chris shrieked. In the other tent, the kids giggled. "I told you he'd scream like a girl." The boy said to his sister with a victorious grin.
"You did what?" Chris couldn't believe what he was hearing. Even though the kid had a bad attitude and was generally trouble, he never thought he'd do anything like that. The boy just smirked flippantly stared at both of his fathers defiantly. "You're driving me to an early grave." Chris mumbled, at his wits end with the kid. "Good." The arrogant teen said, plodding up the stairs. "That's where you belong."
Chris rolled his eyes and slammed the phone down. "What now?" Matt asked, thinking another irate call from the principle. "Swanton off the jungle gym..." Chris answered. They both headed for the door.
Chris and Matt came home to find their house trashed, empty bottles thrown around, things broken, teenage bodies piled here and their some not fully clothed. "I told you leaving them alone was a bad idea." Chris said. "Well, Jeff was supposed to keep check on them!" Matt cried in defense. "This is a nightmare." Chris sighed, stepping over a pair of naked kids. "Jeff probably gave them the alcohol."
"You're not going out like that." Matt crossed his arms over his chest and regarded his daughter sternly. She pouted at him, just like Chris. "But Daddy..." She whined. "No, you look like you walked out of Playboy. Go put on some clothes."
Jeff ran up behind Chris and tugged his pants down. "FULL MOON!" He cackled, stumbling back into Punk as they both laughed. Chris whirled around with a glare on his face and gathered his pants up from his ankles. "Nah man, that ain't the moon." Punk said through giggles. "The moons a helluva lot smaller!"
Chris woke up and heard muffled laughter. He squinted, two faces going in and out of focus. Jeff and Phil were both laughing at him, Phils' hand shoved in his mouth, he seemed like he was suffocating on his own giggles. Jeff didn't even try to quiet his. "What now?" Chris grumped, sitting up and running his hand through his hair...it was wet. He looked at his hand...then glared up at those two. "I'm going to kill you." Chris rolled of the lobby couch and chased Jeff and Phil as their laughter rang through the place, and people turned to stare, at Chris Jerichos' rainbow hair.
Matt straddled Chris, slapping his cheeks lightly. His heart thudding maddeningly against his chest, plunging his senses and thoughts into a kamakazi tailspin. This is not allowed to happen, it can't! Matt yelled his name, shook him, tears started to pour down his cheeks when there was no response. Trembling fingers found their way to Chris' neck, where just the night before he'd laid passionate kisses against his lively pulse. Now there was barely nothing but a few erratic beats as Chris' life drifted away from him.
Lazy Days of Summer
Matt and Chris lay on the grassy bank, their toes sank in the cool mud at the edge of the lake, their hands linked. They'd came to fish but instead got lost watching the white, marshmallow clouds move against the bright, summer sky. The warm sun shone down, heating their skin pleasantly and easing them both into near sleep, their eyes drifting slowly open and closed, unaware that both their poles were bobbing against the V-shaped sticks they'd rested them in: a tell-tell sign that fish were caught on the hooks.
My Hunger and My Pain
Chris sat on the edge of his empty bed, his head hung, tears falling freely, sobs escaping him now and again. How could he have cheated? After everything, how could he have allowed himself to be dragged back to that hotel room, into another mans bed, even though his wedding band winked golden on his finger. It's your fault. He looked down at the fly of his pants, blurry through his tears. Why doesn't anything ever satisfy you…and why do you insist on causing me so much pain?
Being Watched Without Knowing It
Matt choked on his coffee and Chris banged him on the back, muffled giggles escaping his upturned lips. "How did our daughter learn that!" Matt finally cried out, after a few deep breaths. The little girl in the high chair smiled innocently, her dark curls falling into her enormous cobalt eyes. "They're too observant, they watch us even when we don't know it." Chris bit his lip to keep from laughing when the little girl made the gesture again, then he went on, as Matt glared up at him. "I um, guess I should stop flipping people the bird when I'm driving."
"Chris…" Matt rolled his eyes and gripped his husbands hand as they walked out of the doctors office. They were there for Matt, but Chris had stopped when he'd seen some brochures in holders on the wall. "You don't need fucking Botox injections." Matt all but laughed as Chris ran his fingers over the lines in his forehead. Before Chris could read over the information yet again, Matt plucked the glossy paper from his hand and tossed it in the garbage.
Next set: JBL/Punk