Disclaimer: I own nothing. No monetary gain is being made from this work.

Author's Note: A little different from my recent fics. I'm sure some of you will be glad. Please read, review, enjoy, etc.

Slam! CM Punk hit the mat hard, having just been on the receiving end of a powerful Flying Chuck delivered by John Morrison. The former World Heavyweight Champion lay there, dazed and motionless in the ring as his high-flying opponent ascended the ropes. Several seconds later, John came crashing down, all his weight and force directed at the midsection of his opponent, delivering a perfect Starship Pain. John quickly covered and hooked CM Punk's leg.

"One! Two! Three!" Came the referee's count, just before the bell rang.

"And the winner by pinfall is John Morrison!"

John's music began playing, and John happily celebrated his victory. His celebration was short-lived, though. CM Punk slowly rose from the mat and came up behind John. He turned him around then gave him a swift kick to his stomach. When John doubled over in pain, CM Punk took advantage of his opponent's weakened state, quickly scooping him up into a fireman's carry. Completely expressionless, he dropped John and gave him the hardest GTS he had ever given anyone. Without a single word, he exited the ring and took the ramp backstage to his private locker room.

John laid on the mat, nearly unconscious, for several minutes before rolling out of the ring and making his way up the same path his attacker had taken just moments before. When John reached CM Punk's room, he turned the know and heaved the door open, about as hard as his weakened body would let him.

"What the hell was that all about, Punk?" John yelled, his voice cracking with both anger and pain.
His expression held as much anger as his voice.

That expression quickly changed to accommodate skepticism when he saw punk sitting on the floor against the wall with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. He sat silently, not opening his eyes.

"Did you not fucking hear me?" John yelled as he approached Punk, who continued to sit motionlessly.

Fed up with the way he was being treated, John kicked Punk's leg hard. It was then that he finally opened his eyes. "I heard you."

"Then why don't you answer me?" John was growing more angry with every passing second.

CM Punk shrugged, not saying a word.

John grabbed him by his hand, jerked him to his feet, and pushed him hard against the wall. John held him there for a moment and got in his face. John let go and stepped back just a little when he noticed something about his enemy.

"Have you been," John hesitated. "Crying?" His tone was a lot softer than it had been just moments before.

Punk shrugged. "What if I have?"

"Feeling bad for treating me like shit for the last few weeks? For nearly knocking me out, giving me a concussion, and almost taking my head off tonight? Or are you just upset because you LOST tonight?" John's tone was a combination of mockery and confidence.

"Maybe its none of your business, Morrison."

"Good, because I don't care about you or your apparent issues!" John turned away from Punk and began to walk toward the door.

"I know," Punk replied, sounding unmistakably defeated and disappointed. He slowly sank back to the floor.

John stopped and turned back around. "What's that supposed to mean?" He was only curious of the answer because of the tone Punk used, not because of his actual response.

Punk sighed. "Its nothing."

"It obviously isn't nothing. Look I know we're not the best of friends, but you can talk to me. I mean, you pretty much already started." John tried to be as reassuring as possible.

Punk sighed. "I've just had a lot going on in my head lately."

John knelt down beside Punk. "Like what?"

Punk sighed again. "Like everything."

"Ok." John waited a few moments before pressing. "Everything as in...?"

"My life. My career."

"What about them?"

"I think I'm going through a midlife crisis."

John scoffed. "Midlife crisis? You're like thirty!"

"I know." Punk hesitated. "I feel like things aren't going the way I wanted them to. I can't believe I'm even talking to you."

"Yeah me either. You MUST be going through something."

"Shut up, Morrison."

"Sorry."

"You know what? Just forget it." Punk slid up the wall and pushed himself to his feet.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." John stood.

"I know you hate me, John. You don't have to be here for me. The ONE person I want to not hate me does." A brief look of panic crossed the face of the former Straight Edge Savior.

"Wh-what?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't catch that."

"Ok, now I'm confused." John furrowed his brow.

"YOU'RE confused? Join the club!"

John sighed. "First of all, I DON'T hate you."

A look of skepticism overtook Punk's face. "You don't?"

"Of course not. Its all business."

"Just a gimmick?"

"Completely. If anything, I thought YOU hate ME!"

Punk smirked. "If you only knew."

"So you DO hate me?"

"No, of course I don't! I mean, nah." Punk's cheek's flushed pink.

John raised an eyebrow. "Then why do you act like you do? And what are you confused about?"

Punk took a deep breath and started to slide into a sitting position, but John grabbed his hand and pulled him back up. John stood holding Punk's hand, smiling at him the whole time.

"No way!"

John nodded slowly.

Punk smiled for the first time since entering the locker room. He put his free hand on John's shoulder and slowly leaned his face closer to John's. John placed his other hand on Punk's hip and met him half way. The two relished in a passionate kiss, and no other words needed to be spoken. ~End