(Roughly inspired by, but a loose interpretation of, the real time line, kayfabe lines a little blurred here and there (real names and stage names (past and present) used), mentions of other WWE Wrestlers and their previous employers) (Y/N is canonically around the same age as CM Punk for story purposes, but otherwise fairly vaguely described) (absolutely No AI used) Tags: @srallen01
CW: Language, sexual situations mentioned, nightmare reference
"Your love is like a studded leather headlock,
Your kisses could put creases in the road.
You're rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock,
And those other girls are just post-mix lemonade"
Suck It and See -Arctic Monkeys
The next morning you woke up, showered, changed, ran, worked out, came back and showered and got dressed again, and did some laundry. You tidied your things around your hotel room, did some yoga, journaled, and finally started browsing apartments near the PC with short leases. Anything to keep your mind busy. Anything to keep you from calling him.
You couldn't stop yourself from thinking about him though.
You laid back on the floor where you'd been painting your toe nails, your laptop open to a realty site nearby, and closed your eyes, throwing an arm over them.
Despite it all, you had to admit, he looked good last night. Salt and pepper scruff, clean cut hair, lean but still strong. Older felt like the wrong way to describe him. Refined, maybe? Even his tattoos looked better now, like he'd gotten them touched up. Even the ones on his hands. Oh…His hands…
Before your brain could go any further, your phone pinged and your heart stopped. You reached up and snatched it off the side table.
Kevin: You busy tonight? Meet you at the PC at 7 if you're not.
You let out a relieved sigh and texted back a simple "👍", grateful for the chance to get out of your head and think about something other than Punk.
Punk had barely slept the night before. He got out of bed around 4am and went for a run, also went to his hotel's gym, then went back to shower. Once he was dressed, he grabbed a banana from the fruit basket the hotel had sent up, pulled out his laptop, and started looking for old videos of the two of you on YouTube, poring over the grainy footage of two young idiots beating the sense out of each other, his mind still replaying your conversation from the night before as he watched you tear across the ring with him. Eventually he tore himself away and started packing his suitcase to go back on the road with Raw, his brain still buzzing, feeling older and more tired than ever before.
You went to the gym at 6 and got set up on a treadmill as far away from the common space as possible. Your mind immediately picked back up where it left off as you started running.
Hands, Punk's Hands, coarse, tattooed, big, warm, around your ankle last night, around your wrists, around your neck-
You shook your head and took a frustrated breath before raising the incline on your treadmill and tried to focus.
You looked around and saw a TV showing some nature documentary on one of the other walls. Lots of overhead shots of trees. Big trees, tall, lush. Very green trees.
Green like his eyes. Those beautiful, bright green eyes. Green eyes looking at you like you're his prey before he-
You slapped one of the hand bars on your machine to try and get yourself together.
"Anything else." You mumbled to yourself, pleading with your brain. "Just think of anything else."
The apartment in Chicago. You need to pack when you get there, you need to get your mail from the office if its open, you need to wash your sheets. Sheets. Your bed. Sharing your bed with Punk, falling asleep on his chest, falling asleep holding him-"
Your breath caught at that one, your brain having decided to take a turn to sadder memories since you didn't seem to be grateful for the lustful ones.
He woke up with a deep gasp, sitting up and scrambling to his knees, gagging and coughing like he couldn't breathe and was trying to throw up at the same time.
You woke up not long after and immediately panicked as you realized why you'd woken up.
He looked at you desperately, fear in his eyes as he continued to take quick, ragged breaths.
You turned on your lamp and moved closer to him, unsure of what to do to help.
He weakly held a hand towards you and you took it in both of yours. You pressed kisses to the back of his hand and his wrist, before sliding it under your shirt and holding it to your chest. You looked into his eyes and took a steady deep breath, making sure he could see the way you opened your mouth to inhale and exhaled like you were trying to whistle.
You could almost watch the panic recede as he started trying to match his breathing to yours.
"See? You're okay. You're okay. Whatever it was, it's gone, and you're here, and you're safe. I promise you're safe." You said quietly, trying to soothe him.
He nodded like he would've believed anything you said. Your heart ached for him.
He looked so young and so tired, so exhausted by everything he'd just experienced.
You tentatively moved closer to him and he collapsed against your chest, still breathing unevenly, the hand not gripping the edge of your sports bra like a lifeline under your shirt, gripped a handful of its bottom hem just as desperately, like you were the only thing keeping him held to the planet.
You cradled him in your arms, one around his shoulders, the other gently supporting the back of his head.
"I've got you, you're okay." You whispered again, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple.
You felt his whole body shudder as he started to cry, heaving, ugly, broken hearted sobs, into your shoulder, his body practically going limp in your arms.
You were a little startled, but just tightened your hold on him and gently rocked back and forth to soothe the both of you.
You didn't try to stop him, but once you noticed he'd started coming back down, you carefully, as delicately as you could, laid back on the pillows and brought him with you, laying most of his body on top of yours, his head resting on your chest.
He immediately formed himself around you like a moss, trying to be as close as he possibly could. You let him get situated however he needed, and gently wrapped your arms around him again once he was settled.
You held him and gently combed his hair with your fingers until you were positive he was asleep, and then for an extra hour afterwards just to make sure.
Your timer blared in your ears, making you jump and almost lose your footing on the treadmill you'd been steadily running on. You realized how fast your heart was beating and how out of breath you were as you slowed your pace to a stop and climbed off the machine, your legs wobbling so much you had to sit down on the ground to recuperate. You drank from your water bottle and wiped your forehead on your towel, still trying to catch your breath.
Kevin came in a little after 7, grinning ear to ear.
"I can't believe you blew off Lover Boy Knight for me. Looks like you've been here for a while, too. You alright?"
You nodded but gave him a confused look, your breathing closer to normal at this point. "What do you mean? He hasn't texted me, I didn't blow anyone off."
Kevin was still grinning as he took off his jacket and started taping his wrists.
"I just didn't expect you to be free tonight, so I assumed."
You coughed out a laugh as you stood up.
"No, I was apartment hunting when you texted me. Alone."
He chuckled.
"Alright, alright. Calm down. I'm not the one interested in you, he is."
You scoffed and he laughed as he plugged his phone into the sound system and put on some music.
You started setting up a weight machine and you both settled into a rhythm together.
Around 10 the two of you finished wiping down the equipment you'd used and started packing up to leave.
"Apartments, huh?"
You nodded.
"Yeah, something a little more permanent than a hotel. I'm debuting on NXT next month, so I'm gonna be around. I have an apartment on the other side of town, but it's closer to TNA, and even then, it's like an hour from there, so almost two to get here. Abysmal."
He grinned and bumped his shoulder into yours.
"Congratulations, though."
You exhaled a laugh.
"Thanks."
"Yeah, man. You've more than earned it. You gonna sell your spot in Chicago?"
You snorted a disbelieving laugh. "No? What? No. Of course not. Never. Why would I?"
He shrugged. "Seems like you're getting pretty comfortable here."
You still looked shocked that he'd even suggested it. "No, I'll get a shitty studio or something so I have somewhere to sleep and shower without worrying about running out of clean towels. That's it."
He chuckled and held up a defensive hand.
"Alright, jeez you're on edge tonight."
You shook your head and sighed. "Yeah, god, I'm sorry, Kev. I can't get my head on straight today. I ran like 5 miles before you got here, I'm gassed and I need to eat."
He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and gave you a reassuring squeeze.
"I know it's a lot, but I just want you to know, truly from the bottom of my heart, when things get worse, just remember, I told you so."
You blinked and laughed, shoving him off of you. He grinned back and readjusted his gym bag.
You walked together to your cars, said your goodbyes and went off back to your respective hotels.
Sunday passed. You didn't reach out to Punk.
He did everything he could to not think about you, but as he started an almost 8 hour bus ride to the next city hosting Raw, he realized it was going to be his least favorite kind of exercise, one in futility.
He'd been going to the same comic book store since it opened, and for the past 2 years the only girl on staff had flirted with him every chance she got.
He was flattered by it, and tried not to lean into it, but for some reason, whether it was the alignment of the planets or something in the air, today he had decided to do something about it.
He did kind of know why he'd come to this decision. A few weeks previously, he'd come home early and found you asleep in bed, undressed but laying on a towel like you'd just gotten out of the shower, with your vibrator still laying next to you. His breath caught in his throat and he stared at you long enough to burn the image in his memory, then crept back out and went back to the kitchen and tried to act like he was waking you up by coming home, giving you an opportunity to get covered and cleaned up before he came back to the bedroom to see you. Despite the fact that he thought about it constantly, he never brought it up to you.
But because he thought about it constantly, and never brought it up to you, he needed to get laid. Desperately. And that desperation led him to place his bets on Nadia at the comic book store.
She was flirty as always and it didn't take much effort on his part to get her to agree to spend her lunch break with him, and then once they were at the apartment, it felt even easier to get her into your bed.
You had come home early from work, he couldn't remember why, but there you were, standing in the doorway to your room, and Nadia noticed you first.
"Oh, Fuck, Punk!" She shrieked, squirming away from him, which was easy given she was on all fours, and his eyes snapped open and met yours.
"Oh, fuck! Y/N!"
Nadia scrambled for her clothes. "I'm so sorry, he just said you were his roommate. Oh my God, I'm so sorry." She got dressed and threw Punk a dirty look. "Fuck you." She snapped at him before slipping out of the room past you.
You just shook your head and walked out after her, with Punk scrambling to get dressed and follow the both of you, calling your name as he chased after you.
He finally caught up to you, and grabbed your shoulder, spinning you around to face him, and was surprised to see tears running down your face.
"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"
"Why in my bed but not with me?" You asked, voice broken and raw.
His breath caught in his throat, eyes widening. This was the first time the two of you had ever even gotten close to discussing the subject of actually having sex with each other.
You stared at him as long as you could before your emotions overwhelmed you and you turned away to start crying again.
He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his forehead against your shoulder.
"Pigeon… Y/N… I… I didn't think…"
You choked out a sob and he winced at the sound.
"Let me take you home. Please. I don't want to have this conversation in the middle of the sidewalk."
You wiped your face and turned back around, still unable to look at his face. "Okay." You said quietly, and the two of you set off in an uncomfortable silence.
You walked into the apartment ahead of him and went to his bathroom to wash your face.
He took the time to start stripping your bedsheets from the bed.
The two of you reconvened in the kitchen after he finished loading the washing machine.
He took a deep breath and looked at you, leaning his back and his palms against the bar behind him. You stood, arms crossed, with your back against the front door, staring at him, your eyes still red and puffy from crying.
"Pigeon…" he sighed and took a minute.
"First of all, you're home early. Are you okay?"
You blinked and shook your head. "Yeah, I was just covering the open for someone else. I was technically home on time."
He nodded, feeling a little bit of relief.
"Okay. Thank you. Sorry I didn't know."
You scoffed and he blushed before sighing again.
"Y/N… I love you. And I care about you. And I know you feel the same way about me. But I…you've never…" He shook his head.
"If I had to choose, I would rather have you as a friend than as a one time partner. And I didn't want to risk our friendship asking you for more, or risk disappointing you if you did say yes and I left you unsatisfied." He paused.
"I think you might be important to me."
You scoffed. "I fucking hope so."
He blushed and shook his head. "No, I know. Obviously. But I need you, this, in my life for as long as possible. I couldn't risk losing any of it."
You opened your mouth and he sighed again.
"I know. I know that I still did that by doing this. But Y/N, I…I cannot stop thinking about you and I just needed to try and…and I just wanted it to be you. And that's as close as I could get. And I know that's weird and probably makes you uncomfortable and I'm so sorry, but I…I had to do something so I didn't lose my mind over you."
You shook your head.
"God, Punk, you just had to fucking ask." You said, disappointment and hurt still clear in your voice.
"You've always made me feel like your little sister. I just always assumed you weren't attracted to me beyond platonically."
He ran a hand down his face.
"Because I never wanted to make you feel intimidated or scared around me. I want you to feel safe and comforted, not like you have to be anything other than yourself with me. And that's why I could never ask for anything else. I was scared of scaring you."
You shook your head again. "Never. I've never felt unsafe with you. That's why I'm willing to fuck you. Because you make sure I'm comfortable and safe and taken care of, and I know you'd do the same in bed."
He nodded, looking at you with so much relief, so glad you understood.
"I would. God, I would. I'd treat you like a goddess. Like a saint." He said it so sincerely, so reverently, that you felt a shiver run down your spine. "I'd absolutely worship you." He added, his eyes softening, almost turning emotional. "I'd give you the world."
Punk grabbed a throw pillow off his couch and screamed as silently as he could into it until his throat ached. He knew immediately that he'd sound like shit on the mic the next day, but he was already so mad at himself that such a minor issue didn't even matter.
He flopped back on the couch and covered his face with the pillow again, debating the merits of just suffocating himself with it as a distraction from all of the other turmoil in his brain before ultimately deciding against it and settling for putting on his headphones and blaring music until he felt himself go numb.
