Disclaimer: Once again, this story is a work of fiction and is not meant to reflect the true sexual preferences of any of the characters mentioned herein. Truthfully, I don't know if any of the WWE superstars are gay, including John Cena, and even if I did, I would respect them enough to not go blurting it out in a public forum. Anyway, I'm still kind of new to this whole creative writing thing, so I hope it tickles your fancy at least a little bit. Ohh, and the 'Don't Stop Believin' lyrics are the property of Journey or whatever--I didn't write it.
Last time, on 'Hangin' with the Champ...'
"Later!" Matt said as he exited the locker room. Now alone, Jeff slumped over to a locker down the stretch of bench from where Matt was. He placed his bag on the bench, noting the clock on the wall that read '5:15' [Note the time correction from last time. No, the character of Jeff cannot transcend space/time, a quality he would have needed to have in order to pull off that feat of leaving for the arena, arriving, and getting dressed all at exactly 4:30--my bad; chalk it up to amateurism]--he definitely had some time. Unzipping his bag, he began to pull out all of his gear. He had a pair of plain orange tights, the short kind with no leggings. His boots, kneepads, and elbow pads were all a plain black. If he ended up getting a job with the company, Jeff had hoped that maybe they could work out something to spice up his attire a little bit...at least some decals or something. He then set his feet up on the bench to untie his shoes, which he got off pretty quickly. Next, he undid his button-flys, revealing a snug-fitting, white jock. He felt a little self-conscious wearing one, but he did have to admit to himself, he looked damn good in it! Jeff took a second to look in the mirror and check out his own ass. He certainly wasn't vain; he just thought it would be funny to model them really quick. Before anyone could walk in on him, he pulled on his orange tights, kneepads, and laced up his boots. Next, he traded the tight-fitting black polo shirt he was wearing for an equally tight-fitting Edge 'Crude, Lewd, and Tattooed' t-shirt that he happened to have lying around the apartment.
Figuring he still had plenty of time, since no one else had even shown up yet, Jeff figured he'd do a little more exploring. He walked his way back over to the door and headed out, deciding to continue down the hallway away from the entrance. He passed a few people along the way, politely smiling and nodding to them. After a minute, he noticed a table with large silver canisters on it, containing regular and decaf coffee. Opting for the caffeinated goodness, he grabbed a styrofoam cup and flipped the nozzle, allowing to cup to slowly fill. Leaving room for the cream and sugar, Jeff calmly reached over to get a couple jiggers of creamer and quite a few packets of sugar. He then proceeded to stir it all together, not noticing the man that had walked up behind him. As he turned around, his hand came into contact with the man's chest, spilling the freshly prepared cup of Joe all over him. Fortunately, Jeff's need to add a ton of creamer and sugar to coffee had cooled it down a bit so that it wasn't scalding hot. In complete shock, Jeff looked up at the man's face--it was John Cena.
"Ohh shhhhiii..." Jeff was completely paralyzed. He had absolutely no clue what to say or do or think, aside from the idea that he was probably about to get his ass kicked, at least verbally anyway. Really having no insight into John's character, except from the "character" he had seen on TV, he didn't know what to expect.
"Well, I take it from the tights that you aren't a crew guy..." John said, light-heartedly, whipping his chin, practically dismissing what had just happened. "You must be new around here," he stated, almost declaratively, but with a slight inflection, looking for reassurance on Jeff's part. After a few moments, though, it was clear that reassurance wasn't coming--Jeff was still stuck. Figuring he'd give it another shot, John attempted to spark up the conversation. "I'm John," he said, sticking out his hand. A simple strategy, but hopefully effective; he hadn't broken eye contact the entire time, which is generally a polite gesture, but, on this occasion, it was freaking the shit out of Jeff.
"Ohh, uhh..." he stammered. "I'm new, yea, uhh... nervous chuckle I mean I'm Jeff."
John started cracking up. "Damn kid, you are spooked!" He playfully smacked Jeff on he arm. "Lighten up a lil bit!"
Jeff gave a little bit of a shy smile, but definitely felt more relieved. "Sorry--yea--guess it is just cause I'm new. That's got me freaked enough. And then--yea--the whole having just spilled coffee all over ya."
"Ehh, don't worry about it, man; shit happens. It's probably my bad that I snuck up all on ya like that and everything."
"I feel bad. If I wasn't walkin' around like a fuckin zombie, it'd probably never of happened..."
"Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world. She took the midnight train goin' anywhere." Jeff felt his ankle start to buzz--John started to laugh. "What the hell is that?!"
Jeff gave another little, nervous chuckle. "Shit, sorry. Hang on a sec." Bending down, he whipped out his iPhone that he had meticulously stuffed into his left boot. He glanced at the display to see a very drunken picture of him and Wes hanging off each other staring back at him. Jeff just smiled and slid his finger across the screen to answer it.
"Whoa, Mr. Fancy here with his iPhone," John interjected, waving his hands in the air as if being blown back.
"Eat me," Jeff smiled. "H'yello?"
"Yeo, buddy! How's it goin' back there?" Wes asked, excitedly.
Jeff leaned back and propped his ass up against the table with the coffee on it. "Good, good. Just got changed and hangin' out and shit like that. How's it goin' out there?"
"It's still pretty dead out here--it's actually kinda cool." Suddenly, there was some commotion and ruffling sounds on the line.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Alex had apparently wrestled the phone off Wes, speaking in his gay robot voice.
Jeff, normally, would have responded on instinct in a very effeminate voice, but he glanced at John real quick and decided to take a more conservative approach. "What's up, ya homo?"
Alex continued on in his gay robot voice. "Ohh nothing. I was just blowing the guy at the hot dog stand--he gave me a free wiener." Suddenly, there was a chorus of laugher coming from all directions in response to the ridiculously lame pun; Jeff could hear Wes and Ty laughing in the background. Even John started cracking up--apparently the phone was loud enough such that he could pick up on what was being said on the other end. Jeff bent forward from the table, placing his face in his hands, trying to hide the fact that he was starting to blush. He was laughing, but he was slightly embarrassed too that John was getting a sampling of the kind of friends that he kept.
After a few moments, he finally recovered and sat back up. "Ohh good Lord..." Wes said, having ripped the phone back off Alex after he made that now infamous comment.
"Jesus Christ, guys! Can we bring a leash for him next time?" Jeff declared, still trying to catch his breath and wiping tears from his eyes.
John, too, was in a stage of recovery, bringing his arm up so he could wipe his eyes with his t-shirt. "Ohh man, your friends are total jackasses."
"Who was that?!" Wes asked, excitedly--the phone was in rare form, seemingly picking up everything that was being said amongst the five.
"Ohh!" Jeff smiled, mischievously, realizing he had yet to reveal that he had actually been talking to John Cena. "You won't believe who I'm standin' here with." He glanced up at John, grinning with pride at the suspenseful moment he was creating.
"Who?!" Wes asked, obviously becoming very anxious and getting antsy.
Jeff opted not to be a total prick and kept the suspense brief. "It's John Cena." While excited, he was a little paranoid at the same time at making the revelation. The fact that John could hear what the guys were saying on the phone made Jeff slightly nervous as to what the reaction of the guys would be--he didn't want them saying something along the lines of, "Ohh, isn't he so hot?!" He silently prayed in his head that they weren't ignorant to the fact that they could be heard, as he wasn't all about being outed right away to one of the WWE's biggest superstars. Wes screamed, "Bullshit!"
"Aww...nah, son. I got him right here!" Glad that that was the only thing that was said, Jeff pulled the phone away from his ear to look at the display again and tapped the screen to turn on the speaker. He smiled at John and nodded at him, who picked up on the cue.
John leaned in. "Yo, fellas. What's goin' on?" John said, plainly, as the duo both now hovered over the phone, sharing the speaker function.
There was some random, excited, unintelligible response on the other end. "Holy shit! It is you!" Ty screeched.
"Yup, your buddy here tried to kill me with some hot coffee, though." Jeff bowed his head a little bit, beginning to feel the blood rush to his face again. John just smiled and lightly smacked his arm, letting him know not to worry about it.
"Dude, kick his ass!" Ty stated, rather emphatically. Jeff jerked his head up with his mouth agape, jokingly shocked/pissed that his friend would give him up like that.
"Thanks, Ty, ya asshole! It wasn't my fault--I just kinda ran into 'em." Jeff retorted.
"Nah, it's cool." John cut in. "Maybe I'll get to kick his ass in the ring someday, though. With that, John swung around, bridging the gap between the two in order to deliver a playful shoulder nudge. Jeff looked up, making eye contact with John and seeing the warm smile on his handsome face, slightly masked by the '100% American Made Muscle' hat he was wearing. Jeff started feeling weak in the knees and could feel the blood rushing to his face one more time. The moment, which felt like an eternity, was broken up by Wes's response. "We'll be rootin' for ya!" he cheered.
"Yea--great--thanks fellas! I'll catch ya later!" Jeff quickly tapped the display and ended the call, putting on the charade again that he was pissed at being mockingly abandoned by his friends in an effort to cover-up the true feelings he was feeling. His heart was racing, but he continued. Letting out a long sigh, he bent down and stuffed the phone back into his boot. Meanwhile, John swung back around, placing the original space between the two again. "They seem like really good guys," he said.
Jeff stood back up. "Yea, I love 'em to death, even if they can be total jackasses sometimes. They'll definitely never let me live this coffee thing down now. About that, anyway...can I buy ya a new shirt or somethin'?" Jeff noted the 'Live Fast--Fight Hard' t-shirt that John was wearing, matching the hat nicely.
"Ohh please, man, I got tons of these things! Actually though...what the hell are you doin' wearin' an Edge t-shirt?!"
Jeff laughed. "Ohh this? I've had this for a little while. I just thought it was a cool- looking. I wear it to the gym and stuff like that."
"It's okay. You can admit it. You like Edge, and you hate me. It's cool..." John feigned hurt, putting his hands on his hips, scrunching his lips together, and looking off in the distance.
"What, you're only allowed to cheer one guy these days? I like you, too, ya know?" Realizing what he just said, Jeff was about to backpedal, but let it go, figuring discretion was the better part of valor--John thought nothing of it.
Jeff was an Edge fan--he admitted it. It was ironic, though, that Jeff had just started getting into John Cena. It didn't seem like Cena's biggest fan base was adult males, and Jeff, obviously, fit into that demographic. A lot of times he would watch John Cena on TV and watch as the crowd would tear themselves apart with 'let's go, Cena/ Cena sucks' chants. Anyone could clearly tell that the positive chants were coming from the kids and females in the audience while the later chant had a distinguishing base sound to it, making it plain to see how the guys felt about him. Jeff totally understood how such a dichotomy could take place though; John's character had a very heroic, motivational quality to it that could liken as a role model for the younger kiddies, while the ladies probably just thought he was hot--Jeff could see where that idea might come from as well.
"Yea, but you're not even 'crude, lewd, or tattooed.'" John stated.
Jeff decided to be playfully ambiguous. "As far as you can tell anyway..."
John began to laugh. "Whoa, easy there killer! I didn't need to know about all that!"
"Yup, I got 'whore' tattooed across my ass," Jeff said, obviously kidding, but pretending to be serious.
"Oooooookay then! Well, everyone's got their thing I guess..." John had this goofy, wide-eyed expression on his face. "Whatever you're into is cool--I'm not one to judge."
All of a sudden, a smaller guy, dressed in a black WWE logo polo, came flying through a door behind John and a little to his left. Spying John, he continued on his sprint, sliding sideways behind him and giving him a quick pat on the back. "Ten minutes, guys," he said, running down the corridor toward the entrance.
"Thanks, Ted," John replied, shooting a quick wave. He looked back toward Jeff. "I guess we should head down...hey, I got an idea." With that, John did his quick over-the- head removal of his shirt and twirled it around on his arm a couple times. "Why don't you take this shirt? That way, you got a way cooler shirt now, and you got something to show your friends about what happened, case they don't believe you. You'll be all famous now!" Jeff was a little taken-a-back that John was now just ripping his clothes off in front of him. "Really?" Jeff asked, surprised by the generous gift offer.
"Sure, man. Mind if we stop by my locker room first though before we head down so I can grab another shirt?"
"Uhh...yea, sure. Thanks!" Jeff smiled, taking the damp t-shirt from John with the newly-added hazelnut scent.
"Well, c'mon then. Let's go make your ass a WWE superstar!" And with a smack on the back, the duo headed down the hall together. Jeff couldn't have been happier with the way things were going. It was only day one, and here he was, making friends with the Champ, the top dog of the WWE. He figured, if he was in with John Cena, he'd have no problem with the other guys in the back. Even though he still had the pressure of going on and showing everyone what he could do, he was on Cloud 9. God forbid things didn't work out for him with wrestling, he still would be able to take away from the experience memories that would last a lifetime. Jeff was amped, ready-to-go, and felt he could not be denied.
So everybody, I hope you enjoyed reading this latest little tidbit. Sorry it took a lil while--just got some different shit goin' on. Not so much of a cliff-hanger this time, but hopefully it's got ya excited to see what happens next. I'll get some more out to you soon, just have to keep them juices flowin, grab a cappuccino, and daydream even more. Send your questions, comments, and concerns out to ITSMonkeywolfnoz@aol.com. Have a nice day! :o)