Hunter felt the harsh amber liquid coat his throat. He took comfort in the burn and warm feeling that spread throughout his stomach and casually signaled the barman for another. A single malt whisky was placed in front of him - neat, no ice and no mixer. He didn't want anything to dull the liquid's potent effect. He gestured to the barman to double the shot and the heady smell of the malt was enough to make him recoil. However it wasn't enough to stop him from downing the double in an instant or from immediately requesting another.

He glanced around the bar and saw that it was empty apart from himself, the barman and a couple of older men. He watched them as they nursed the beer in front of them, their fingers running over the sports pages of the newspapers that were open on the tables before them. The whisky before him also disappeared down his throat and for a moment he paused, scared that he would share the same fate as the sad and lonely men that he was staring at.

Hunter had never seen the bar as empty as it was. He and his work colleagues often frequented it during their dinner hour but it was no longer dinner time. It was late. Very late. Usually he'd be tucked up in bed, his mind racing with market values and stock portfolios but tonight he found that the last thing on his mind was numbers.

Another drink was placed before him and Hunter smiled slightly at the barman as he allowed his heavy head to fall with an audible thump against the bar. He couldn't remember the last time that he had got drunk. It was probably during some fraternity party while at University but he struggled to remember attending any of those parties. His head was usually buried in his study books.

His frat 'buddies' had always mocked him for working so hard. He was a true student of the financial game and the laughter had quickly died away when he'd not only earned the highest degree of anyone on his course but had walked into a high powered job with the infamous McMahons.

From the day that he started working for the McMahons his life had revolved around targets, stocks, shares and the almighty dollar. He had quickly built a reputation for himself as someone who could predict the unpredictable - after all it was never his clients that were affected by any market crashes.

But he didn't want to be that man anymore. He didn't want to be the dependable guy who never let his personal feelings affect business. He didn't want to feel the pain that he had been fighting a losing battle against for the last fortnight.

Hunter hadn't made a conscious decision to spend a Tuesday night getting drunk in a bar. He had been sitting at home in his expensive apartment when his eyes had come to rest on a photograph that hung on his wall. It had been taken at the office's Christmas party and despite the tuxedos and trappings of the five star hotel that they were standing in the photo showed a group of relaxed work colleagues.

Friends even.

A faint smile danced across Hunter's lips as he gazed at the beaming faces in the frame before him. He was standing in the left of the group surrounded by the men who shared the fourth four of the building with him. They were all of a similar age, a similar background and all spent far too much time in the corporate gym than any stockbroker should be allowed to.

Hunter stood in the back row and like everyone else he had a champagne glass in his raised right hand and a broad smile on his face. They were all celebrating reaching some unobtainable target but Hunter knew that the smile was not due to making the McMahon's another few million. His smile was due to the man standing in the row before him, the man whose hair he had his left hand buried in.

It was due to Shawn.

And Shawn was the reason for Hunter's desire to kill every brain cell that was still functioning inside his figure riddled head. Ever since he had found out about Shawn's affair he'd stopped living. He was now barely functioning, performing the usual daily rituals of showering, eating and working while on autopilot. But it still wasn't enough.

He'd be driving to work, his mind a total blank apart from concentrating on the monotonous task of accelerating and breaking, when a song would come on the car radio that would cut through his defenses. Images of happier times with Shawn would flash through his mind and the pain that he'd managed to keep locked away would break through for the shortest period of time before he'd be able to reign it in and seal it away.

Until the next time he was reminded of Shawn. And with both of them working on the fourth floor of the McMahon's offices he was reminded of Shawn constantly. His eyes came to rest on a table that was tucked away in the corner of the bar. To everyone else it would have been just an ordinary wooden table, littered with drops of liquid and a fallen menu, but to Hunter it was so much more.

It was at that table that Hunter had taken Shawn's hand in his and first uttered the words "I love you". It was also at that table that Hunter had completely embarrassed himself by sobbing quietly when Shawn repeated the phrase. The smile Shawn had given him and the accompanying laugh as Hunter turned a fetching shade of scarlet had been cute beyond words. Shawn had meant his laugh to be reassuring but instead it had just made Hunter cry even more. It wasn't long before they were both crying. They could both feel the eyes of the bar's other patrons burning into them as they kissed sweetly but neither cared. No stranger or prejudice could have spoiled that moment for either them.

Whenever Hunter, Shawn and their colleagues came to the bar for a liquid lunch they always sat at that table. He couldn't quite explain it but that table had come to mean so much to him - it was a symbol of his love for Shawn.

Now it was nothing more than a dirty table in an expensive bar.

He pushed the rising pain back down by knocking back another shot of whiskey. He didn't want to exist anymore. He didn't want to function on autopilot as his feelings slowly bubbled away beneath the surface. Feelings were a pain that he could do without.

Anesthesia. That's what he wanted. He wanted to be numb from every experience and feeling that was screwing up his insides. He didn't want to have take the stairs every morning because Shawn's office was situated next to the elevator. He didn't want to decline invitations to office parties because the sight of Shawn and his new lover was still enough to make him consider jumping out of his office window to the road below. He no longer wanted to be a slave to his emotions.

Most importantly he didn't want his heart to still be the property of Shawn Micheals. Every whiskey that warmed his throat and coated his insides wrapped a protective layer around his heart. His despair started to lift and was replaced by the unfamiliar buzz that the alcohol was giving to him.

The feeling was so comforting that he didn't even notice when someone sat next to him.

"I never had you marked as a late night drinker Hunter."

Hunter quickly turned on his stool and had to grab the bar to stop himself from falling to the floor. The action didn't go unnoticed by his companion who merely lifted his eyebrows. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Not enough" Hunter said with a bitter chuckle. "Don't try that holier than thou crap with me. I'm not the only loser propping up a bar in the early hours of the morning am I?"

Hunter saw his companion stiffen slightly at the venom he'd poured into his voice and instantly regretted speaking so harshly. The companion had also been in the photo that hung on Hunter's apartment wall and it had been his natural charm that had convinced the hotel manager into allowing the party to open the most expensive crystal champagne that was usually reserved for VIP's only. That charm seemed to be in short supply tonight as Chris abruptly asked the barman for a whiskey of his own.

"I couldn't sleep so I went for a run" Chris offered as an explanation. "I came in here to have one of those fruit smoothie things that you swear by."

"That's not very fruity" Hunter said pointedly as Chris sipped from the whiskey glass before him.

"I don't want you to drink alone."

"I'm touched" Hunter said, a tone of bitterness creeping into his voice again.

Chris picked up his glass and swirled the amber liquid around. His eyes fixated on the glass on his hand - not because he found it particularly interesting but because it meant that he didn't have to look at Hunter. The last fortnight had taken it's toll on him. There were black rings under his eyes and Chris could see that Hunter had resorted back to his previous vice of biting his nails. Shawn had worked so hard to get Hunter to stop the habit from buying every nasty tasting nail varnish on the market to appealing to Hunter's corporate side by stating that ragged nails were not 'professional'. Shawn had eventually won the battle but without Shawn the nail biting had returned.

And now teetotal Hunter was drunk and drowning his sorrows with whiskey.

Chris pushed the almost full whiskey shot across the bar out of his reach and spoke softly. "I think it's time you went home Hunter."

"Why? I'll only be drinking alone there instead of here."

Chris sighed heavily as Hunter reached for his discarded whiskey and drained the glass in one long drink. Since Hunter's relationship with Shawn had ended Chris had found himself double checking all of Hunter's figures to correct the little mistakes that had started to creep in. The mistakes were nothing serious and would not have been noticed by the McMahon's themselves but it was so unlike Hunter to make any kind of mistake at all that Chris felt that he had to correct the details. If only to keep Hunter's perfect reputation intact. He doubted that Hunter even knew Chris had altered his figures and Chris wasn't about to inform him of it.

"This isn't going to help" said Chris.

Hunter turned around on his stool and faced Chris fully. "I think it will. It's the only thing that eases the pain."

Chris sighed as he ran his fingers through his sweat slicked hair. "It doesn't ease the pain Hunter. It merely masks it for a short time. When you sober up the pain will come roaring back louder than before."

"Then I guess I won't bother sobering up."

"You'll be fired within a week."

"Ah, you're forgetting one thing Chris" Hunter said dramatically, "I'm the McMahon's golden boy. They'll allow me a few indiscretions."

"Do you remember Bradshaw?" The blank look on Hunter's face showed that he didn't. "He worked on the eighth floor, thought that he was JR Ewing."

"I remember now. He was Vince's right hand guy for a time."

"Yep. Before he got fired for attending a board meeting while drunk. His gleaming record and portfolio didn't save him and neither will yours Hunter."

"It's only a job" Hunter shrugged.

Chris looked at Hunter exasperated. He did feel sorry for Hunter and emphasized with his pain. Chris knew that Hunter's role within the McMahon's empire meant a hell of a lot more to him than "just a job". It was his life. Chris had lost count of the number times Shawn had bounded into his office and sweet talked him into going out because Hunter had cancelled another date due to his work commitments. It always surprised Chris that Shawn had been so accepting of Hunter's devotion to his job. Chris had lost several potential partners due to the complete dedication that the McMahon's requested from all of their workers.

"You don't mean that. This job is your life."

"Shawn was my life" Hunter said with such a concentrated passion that Chris unconsciously leaned away from him. "Without him nothing matters."

"Hunter I…"

"No Chris," interrupted Hunter, "you're not going to make this better no matter what you say. He was my life. I know that I didn't always pay him the attention that he deserved and I've always been grateful to you for looking after him when I was too preoccupied with work to do so myself but he meant everything to me. He was my heart, my soul, my future.... And now I have nothing. Nothing.

"All those plans that we made together are gone. All of the images that I had of myself and Shawn growing old together and retiring back to San Antonio, the ranch we were going to buy… It's all gone Chris. Now all that I have to look forward to is a life time alone in that overpriced apartment."

"You're not going to be alone Hunter" Chris said quietly. He forced himself to look at Hunter and couldn't believe that the broken man sitting before him was the same Hunter he'd known for the last six years.

"I'm not like you Chris. I can't just wander up to someone and start a conversation. Hell I can barely even talk to my own clients unless we're talking about money. I don't have your charm, your wit, your looks... Why would anyone give me the time of day huh?"

"If you have so little to offer then how did you land a guy like Shawn?" Chris asked.

"If I have so much to offer then why did he cheat on me?"

"I don't know Hunter" said Chris with a dramatic sigh. "Maybe he needed more from you. Maybe you gave him too much and scared him. Or maybe, and this is I think most likely, maybe he's an asshole."

The twinkle in Chris' tired, yet sparkling, blue eyes was enough to make Hunter laugh despite the pain that he was feeling. Only Chris could find some humor in such a depressing situation. And only Hunter was stupid enough to laugh.

"He's one of your best friends and you're calling him an asshole."

"You ought to hear what I say about you when you're not listening. But honestly I do think that he is an asshole. Or at best stupid. He threw away something that could have been forever. You don't get many chances at forever."

Silence descended between them and Hunter contemplated asking the bartender for another drink but ever since Chris' appearance in the bar he'd found that alcohol didn't have it's same allure. He knew Chris was right. He couldn't spend night after night getting drunk in a vain attempt to block out a pain that he had no chance of ignoring.

Chris glanced at the watch on his wrist and realized that he had to be up in five hours to be in work on time. He knew that he would be tired in the morning but he couldn't find the will to make himself move. He knew that Hunter still needed to someone to talk to and there was a hidden part of himself that also needed the company.

"Are you going to Mr. McMahon's birthday party?" Chris asked softly. The silence had quickly turned uncomfortable and Chris knew that it was an inane question to ask but it was all his mind could think of.

"And see Shawn draped all over his new lover? That'll be fun" Hunter snorted.

"You can't keep ignoring him Hunter. You ought to come with me that'll surprise a few people."

"You're going? Why?"

"I did consider impaling myself on whatever gaudy ice sculpture Mr. McMahon had paid too much money for but I decided against it" Chris said with a smile before his demeanor turned serious. "I'm going because I want to show everyone that I'm strong. I want to show them that I'm strong."

"You are strong Chris. You're not sitting in a bar crying over an empty shot glass are you?"

"No I'm not," Chris agreed. "But do I look like the kind of guy who regularly goes for a run in the early hours of the morning? We all have our own ways of coping."

Hunter looked closely at Chris and could see that underneath the strong facade Chris was just as broken as he was. The tell tale rings beneath his eyes were just as pronounced as Hunter's but easier to ignore when just above lay the most sparkling blue eyes Hunter had ever seen. Chris was dressed appropriately for a run but the clothes looked a little too new. His sneakers were still pure white and Hunter had no doubt that this was the first midnight run Chris had ever done.

"Not sleeping then huh?"

"I keep on reaching over to the other side of the bed expecting Kurt to be there. Whenever I see that he isn't it wakes me up. It took so long for me to get used to sharing my bed with someone and I know it's going to take even longer to adjust to being alone."

"I'm sorry" Hunter stated simply, his hazel eyes dropping to the empty glass that still stood before him.

"What for?" Chris asked puzzled.

"Here I am, whining and bitching about Shawn leaving me when you're in the exact same situation. I was so close to losing my temper with you and your rationality."

Chris gave Hunter one of those dazzling, genuine smiles that always made his clients weak at the knees "it doesn't matter. It was the drink talking."

"No it wasn't," Hunter said as he forced himself to look Chris in the eye. "It was because you were finding it so easy. You could still talk to Shawn despite him being the one who stole your boyfriend from you."

Chris ran his fingers through his hair again and frowned slightly when his fingers caught in the matted ends. "Did you hear any of the conversations I had with Shawn? They mainly consisted of him talking nervously and me grunting in agreement."

"I'm still sorry."

"You still don't need to be. I haven't spoken to Kurt if that makes you feel any better."

"Not at all?"

"Not since the night that he left me," Chris said, his head lowering and his gaze fixing on his too white sneakers. 'I begged him Hunter. I got down on my fucking knees and begged him not to leave.

"I begged and I cried for him. I fucking cried and he just stood there and watched with a look of disgust in his eyes. As if I had no right to be upset because the guy I thought that I'd spend all eternity with had cheated on me. He just glared down at me and left. I never knew his eyes could be so cold, especially to me.

"He thought that I was pathetic to be acting that way. I'm not pathetic Hunter. I can't be pathetic. As you said earlier I'm the one with all the charisma, the charm, the confidence… Chris Jericho is not pathetic and ever since I saw my patheticness reflected in Kurt's eyes I became determined not to show that to anyone else.

"And you consider me strong? I'm just a good actor."

Hunter remained silently, not quiet knowing how to react to Chris' harsh words. Chris still had his eyes fixated on the floor and Hunter could see that he was blushing slightly. He obviously didn't intend to reveal as much to Hunter as he had but Hunter was glad for the revelations.

He had felt so alone in the depth of his pain but to have someone sitting beside him who could not only understand that pain but share it, albeit in a different way to Hunter, was comforting beyond words. He gently took Chris' left hand in his and smiled his first genuine smile of the evening.

"You're not pathetic. You never could be. At least Kurt told you that he was leaving. I didn't find out until I came to work one morning and saw Shawn sitting on Kurt's lap in the recreation room. I don't know what was worse - discovering that Shawn was cheating on me or the pitying looks of the other people there. And of course it just happened to be virtually the entire office that were there. I felt just as pathetic as you did."

"Hunter…" Chris said softly, his eyes raising to where Hunter's darkly tanned hand was entwined with his lighter hand.

"But we're not pathetic Chris. Neither of us. So what if you cried or if I drowned my sorrows. Everybody does that when they hurt. If we'd have come in here at a decent hour I'm sure that there would be numerous patrons propping up the bar for that very reason. It doesn't make us pathetic. Just human."

Chris chuckled slightly and Hunter was glad to see that the twinkle had returned to his eyes. "Since when were you Mr. Positive?"

"Since about the same time you became Mr. Negative."

"So what do you say Hunter? Me and you, at the McMahon's party in the most expensive tailor made tuxes we can find, holding our heads up high and making Kurt and Shawn sick with envy."

Hunter smiled for the second time and stood up next to his stool. "I'll go with you on one condition."

"Dare I ask what that condition is?"

"You have to turn on the patented Jericho charm and I'll turn off the patented Helmsley game talk."

"Deal" Chris said as he led Hunter out of the bar.

Hunter took one last glance at the bar before he left and looked at the two old men who were still seated, beer in one hand and newspaper in the other. As he followed Chris from the bar he knew that he'd never become like them.

He could never be that pathetic.

THE END