Hardcore Rock ft Punkintyre
Pairing: Punk x McIntyre
Rating: T
Word count: 1k
Summary: If Punk plays another horrible song on his guitar, Drew is going to kill him. Luckily for him, his boyfriend realises it and offers him somewhere calming.
Dedicating this to the birthday girl @iyosbiggestfan <3
As always, this work is purely fictional, and I don't own the characters involved in my crazy story.
enjoy!
Drew groaned as CM Punk hit another high note. He wanted to go downstairs and beat the hell out of his lover's guitar. No point in beating up the Chicago Native. He promised him well that he would never lay a hand on him again and would be his protector from now on. Still, no matter how much he wanted to destroy, he did understand where the lad was unleashing his talent. Well, finding out that his boyfriend wants to revive his musical skills is horrible, but it does give you some pissing rights.
The Scot winced again as another note reached his ears. He really should go down there. That would require him to get out of bed, and he doesn't think his head would like that right now. It felt like he was inside a drum. Another high note reached his ears. He mentally swears that Punk should've learned a pipe bag instrument; it's much calmer and more traditional than garage band music.
He grabbed a pillow and covered his ears tightly, wincing slightly as his man hit another awful note. The second thing he planned to do was destroy the living room in a fit of rage. Drew pressed the pillow tighter around his ears. Beats headphones, which were supposed to block out the noise effectively, still let you hear the noise outside, and the groans sound louder. It's like seeing a person making nail-screeching sounds on old boards, making everyone flinch, or like the time John sneezed and turned physically invisible.
Today was the day he had to have one of his slips and demand Punk go on a date with him. As predictable as it gets, more awful notes reached his ears and have reached their climax.
"Poor Drew. He refused to take anything, just in case of a Claymore attack," John's voice said outside the door.
His lover finally looked up and stopped playing, and walked his way to sit next to him. "And we are all being supportive about me, even if my music sounds like I am killing a fly."
McIntyre winced slightly as he heard a loud crash coming from the lab.
"I'll go and check that out," John said as he stomped down the stairs. "I hope Sheamus isn't being a pest and messing with my inventions!"
Drew heard the door close, and Punk shifted closer to him, wrapping his arms around the Scotsman. He felt his fingers touch his forehead and opened his blue eyes to stare at him. He smiled a little.
"My playing was bad, huh?"
"I will never listen to Green Day again."
Punk laughed softly. "Aww, poor Drew. If it helps any, I tried to come up with better musical notes but came out off balance and out of tune."
"Yeah, but next time I'm teaching you how to play pipebag instruments and wear a kilt, showing you the traditions of Scottish music."
Punk snorted as he nodded, leaned over and kissed his forehead. He sighed.
"Come on, let's go outside," he nudged his Scottish lover.
"So we can hear the beauty of nature," Drew hoped for something better.
"Excuses, excuses. It will be better than my version of Green Day."
"I guess you're right."
He grabbed Drew's hand and pulled him out of bed. The sudden movement made him dizzy, but he quickly regained his composure. Punk dragged him down the stairs and out the door, catching a glimpse of John swatting Sheamus's hands from his inventions and chuckling at how responsive he is, seeing the two are about to make out. Wait, ugh, never mind…he didn't need to see that.
With a final run away from the chaos, he dragged him into the bushes with a peephole opening. They sat down on the ground next to each other.
"What? No sitting on the lap this time," Drew said with a small grin, in a flirty way.
Punk hit his shoulder. "Not now, you sicko!"
"I seemed to remember a time after our segment where we had se-"
The Chicago Native cuts him off harshly. "DREW!!"
He laughed and winced as his head started to throb, and he rubbed his head gently.
"Lie down, fella."
"I'm fine."
"Come on…I thought ya liked me lap." Drew gestured.
He knew better than to fight with his man when he was this stubborn. He eventually lay his head on Drew's lap, and he stroked his hair. The beautiful natural sounds were much better than Punk's atrocious playing, and the headache has stopped since it had to do with his lover lying down to his touch, perhaps?
"Better?" He asked.
Drew smiled and nodded. "Still better than your guitar, but here isn't so bad after all."
"See? I told you it would work."
"When ye are right, ye are always right, love."
Drew's hand stroked his head. He felt himself fall asleep. Damn it, he didn't want that. He couldn't remember the last time they were truly alone. They would always get interrupted in the flat. Sometimes, he thought that their boss had radar.
"We need to do this more often," Punk said.
"We should, if we can escape the locker room and wrestling chaos first."
"It was fun explaining to our boss why we were in the equipment room the last time we were alone in the arena," he chuckled.
"I thought about searching for your Babygirl shirt as a perfect excuse."
Punk laughed as he leaned over and kissed his forehead. "Maybe if we get rid of the guitar."
"Hunter probably has a spare somewhere hidden in the Gorilla Position, away from peering eyes."
Punk hissed and pointed a playful finger at him. "Don't want to think about it."
"Guys…guys! Trips is looking for you!" Sheamus shouted through the garden.
"If he wants to share…"
His boyfriend laughed again. "I take the guitar if you distract him."
"Deal."
End! Comments are appreciated.