Colt 2nd person pov Warnings: smutty shower sex, mild profanity
You knew the ending of the match; you'd been part of the discussions on how it was going to go down. What you didn't know was how it was going to affect you. Punk bound to the ropes by his wrists. Your Punk bound and helpless, on his knees gasping for breath at the mercy of another man. You didn't think the image would affect you this much. You feel genuinely bad for the match you just phoned in but every time you close your eyes, you see Punk his arms tied part, his hair dyed red with blood hanging over his face, legs spread, chest heaving and every time, your singlet feels a little less comfortable.
You know Punk well enough to know that he'll have not showered yet. He doesn't mind sitting around in his own blood and sweat to wait out your matches or more likely to try to get good road stories out of Dreamer, something you had both been at it all day. You feel kind of bad for Dreamer, you suppose he was probably expecting there to be the usual hello sirs but you doubt he was expecting to be bombarded with questions about what it was like way back when. You wonder if Raven warned him about you and Punk, wonder if he mentioned that you were both more likely to ask obscure questions about road trips than discuss spots. You think you both at once amuse and exacerbate Raven, he indulges you both a lot more than you were expecting him to but you think he has a soft spot for Punkers, probably sees something of himself in Punk's propensity for ranting and ability to rile up even the most placid of people.
As you expected, he's cornered Dreamer and is grilling him when you get to the back. Raven is perched on a table watching the situation with vague amusement. You jut your chin at him as a greeting. He smirks at you but offers no further acknowledgment of your existence.
"Punkers, you're still covered in blood. Come on and shower?" You force it to sound like a question, whilst you are certain that either most people know or suspect that there is more between you and Punk that best friends forever, you don't want to confirm it. Although, you are one hundred percent certain Raven knows, the lazily amused leer he gives you sometimes leaves you in no doubt that he one, knows you and Punk are fucking and two, unlike most other people assume, that you are the one doing the fucking. Raven is entirely too sharp for your liking but he seems content to watch and laugh at you both from a far. Punk shrugs and makes some kind of vague excuse me to Dreamer before following you to the showers. As you close the door you hear Raven bark out a laugh, you flick the lock and put him out of your mind.
Punk has already turned the shower on by the time you turn to face him, water running over his hair, washing the red out, sending pinkish streams over his face, he squints at you through them. You press him back against the tiles of the shower and kiss him gently before letting the water clean the blood from his face. Once the water runs clear over his features, you kiss him, hard and fast, all teeth and tongue and groping hands. You clutch at his ass, squeezing, kneading, parting his cheeks and letting one finger press against his hole.
"Want you." You gasp into his ear, nibbling at the lobe, he pants softly and chuckles.
"Fuck me then." You thank your foresight for the fact you carry lube in amongst the contents of the little bag you carry with various showering supplies in and pour an overly generous amount into your hand. You slide one finger into to him, feeling him shiver against you. "More." He demands so you ease a second and third finger in quickly, moving them back and forth at a firm steady pace. He rocks back against your fingers and takes one of his hand from around you to start stroking his cock.
"Nuh-uh, bad Punkers." You grasp his wrist and he whines deliciously in your ear, his breath warm and soft, sending a shiver down your spine. You pull your fingers from him. "Turn around." He readily complies and braces himself against the wall, the water from the shower running in rivulets along his back, over the curve of his ass, down those beautiful thighs. You smile at him as he turns his face to you, pressing his cheek against the wet tiles, his chest heaving for breath, his eyes taking on that hazy gleam they get when he's overly aroused. "You okay?" You ask him softly, stroking his cheek.
"Fuck me." He pants breathily. You squeeze more lube into your palm and spread it over your length. "Hard and fast, I need it." He manages to make his request sound more firm. You groan and press into him fully in one long hard stroke. He makes an odd strangled little noise and his head falls back to your shoulder. You kiss his neck as it's exposed to you.
"You have no idea how fucking hot you looked all tied up out there." You tell him as you begin to move. "How close I was to coming out and fucking you in front of all those people." He shivers in your arms again. "You really need to not let people talk you into being restrained; it does bad things to me." You bite his neck firmly and thrust with hard short strokes into him, hitting his prostate, making him moan loudly. "You on your knees, gasping for air, that is for me to see, no one else." You tell him, licking and biting his throat, pounding into his body, pressing against his prostate firmly, ripping moans and gasps and your name from him. You don't doubt that if he could, he would give you some kind of witty reply but he's too far gone for that. "How many of those marks do you think are gonna go home and beat one out to the thought of you all bound like that, huh?"
"Colt." He groans turning his head to catch your lips in a harsh kiss. "Shut up and fuck me." You smirk at him and speed your thrusts up, taking his cock in your hand, stroking him at the same pace, his hips torn between rocking back onto your cock or pushing forward into your hand. You aren't going to last much longer, you can feel him tightening around you; all it'll take to send him over the edge is a few more strokes. When his orgasm hits, his body quivers slightly in your hold, you still within him and as he comes down, you thrust into him as fast and as powerfully as you can, filling him with your come, pressing your face to his shoulder. "Fuck." He gasps, still panting for breath as you pull out of him. The water is beginning to cool so you both wash quickly, shutting the water off before all of the hot supply is used.
In the locker room you dress quickly, the bite you left on his neck is laughed off as a mark from the dog collar. You are incredibly glad Raven has already left; you don't doubt that he wouldn't believe the easily told lie. The rest of the boys eventually clear out of the locker, leaving you and Punk alone once more. You are dressed waiting for him to get ready himself, when he says.
"You know how you liked me tied up with my clothes on?" He pulls his shirt over his head, shoves his damp hair into a messy tail and tosses you a roll of athletic tape. "The bed at the hotel has these slats in the headboard."
Today my Saturday tutoring student decided he wanted to watch Se7en... This popped into my head. I blame my Colt muse he is not pleased that I am working on something without him in it. Next 6 parts will be up when they're written, be warned they're all smutty... Smutty Smut of smuttyness...