Start again|| Chris &nnd Punk
chicagomisfit :
There was no question about it, Phil was still hurting from all that had gone down between him and his now ex-boyfriend Chris, but he was determined not to let it get to him at least in public view. Especially when he finally had the things he wanted, trying a new career and writing for Marvel comics. After a long and extremely unhappy tenure at the WWE, he was finally doing things that made him happy. He was finally getting the sort of buzz that he deserved, even if there were still quite a handful of people who thought he was stupid and that he’d fail, but that was just the kind of environment he thrived on. He’d show them all.
But first, he had to take care of something important. Something that he’d regretted ending the way he had. Not a single thing in his life did he ever regret up until now. When he’d spoken to Chris again, he never once thought he’d feel the way he did now. Alone and heartbroken. He’d thought he was done with love. Done with their relationship, but he honestly missed the older man. And now, Chris was on his way and he was nervous as hell. He’d been so anxious about it all that he’d spent the night cleaning and pacing his Chicago home, now tired and nursing a coffee cup every few hours.
It wasn’t until he’d heard the knocking that he realized he’d fallen asleep on the couch, practically jumping out of the seat and spilling over his half empty mug as he started for the door. With a swipe of his arm over his mouth and a hand raking through his short mess of brunette locks, Phil pulled open the door to reveal who had been knocking. And the moment he laid eyes on the familiar face, he let out a breath. Unable to take in another as he was stunned by the mere presence of his former lover and friend.
"…Chris." He spoke softly, stepping back finally to let the other man in. He hadn’t been sure if he should embrace him or not considering things, but he’d let Chris make the decision on his own. It was better that way.
His heart basically exploded at the sight of Phil. His mouth went dry, and knees became weak. His once upon a time future…standing just before him in plain sight. The way the Chicago native said his name, it was pure bliss to the older man ears, almost like his personal lullaby. “Phil—- ” Erratic breathing, his voice shaking. “—Hi.”
A whisper escaped through his dry twin flesh, rough yet— a spoonful of honey topped along with it. He wondered if the other man even heard him? But decide against to even dare repeat his name; it wasn’t like Chris deserved it, not from all that shit that happened between them.
Not after what he put the tattooed Chicagoan through. The older man clears his throat, pulling at the collar of his leather jacket, fixing it as he walked up close to Phil, without any sort of hesitation; he pulled the taller man into his arms. The American-Canadian shut his eyes for a brief moment, taking in everything, taking in the other man’s warmth—clinging to this moment. Sighing heavily he pulled back, and walked into the Chicago native’s house, making as if that ‘hug’, wasn’t at all a big deal. “Thanks…” Chris mumbled, glancing around the room. Memories flew through his mind. From the moment he first arrived here….nothing changed much. He could probably point out a few things that probably did change, but everything else was still right in place. Even the familiar smell he recalled loving once upon a time, still lingered in the air.
"Wow…same old, same old. Am I right?" The older man gesture towards the room, his eyes now staring directly back at Phil. "Did anything change around here? Most people…well, most… usually did a little changes here and there. I should know, I’m one of them. But you? Nah…." The rockstar chuckled; he shook his head and approached Phil.
Hands clasped behind his back. "So…… um, let’s…— how are things going?" Kicking himself mentally in the head, he was avoiding the real reasons why he was there, to talk. He wanted to talk…but…not about their issues. Not now… why? Chris just didn’t want to fuck things up. Because no matter what, somehow, someway… he’ll end up saying something and the stubborn Chicago native won’t put up with it. Probably.