Punk run down the empty street, it was dark and the street was so little known there were hardly any streetlights. The fact that Punk was wearing nearly all black didn't help him standing out, or his lack of. His black running shorts hugged him tightly, and his black top with a band logo hung from his shoulders. He didn't usually do this, go running when it was dark, hell who was he fooling he did this all the time. He did it when he needed to think, or to get rid of his thoughts. The combination of the crisp Chicago wind, the rhythmic thud of his feet hitting the pavement, the puff of his breath like the smoke from what he hates so much, the beating of his heart, the flushed warmth of his blood flowing through him, the peace and quiet, the serenity. It was what he needed on nights like these. No one could interrupt him or annoy him, he could just think, about everything, or he could think about nothing, there was nothing anyone could do to make him do either, not when he was here, running in back streets of Chicago, the place that had been and always would be, his home. Today was a day of thinking, his mind unable to turn off the thoughts that had led him to go running. Things had fallen apart so quickly. He had been so happy, they had been so happy. It had been perfect nothing could stand in the way of them, they were unstoppable. How had things gone so wrong? Punk's scowl deepened as his pace quickened. The street was getting darker and darker, the thought of turning back crossed his mind, but he couldn't. Not yet, it wasn't out of his system yet. John wasn't out of his system yet. But he would show that cheating, lying son of a bitch, Punk didn't need him, Punk didn't need anybody.
As soon as Colt heard about what happened with John and Punk he immediately went over to Punk's apartment, he knew that despite Punk's I don't need anyone attitude, he knew Punk needed him right now. From what he heard everything had been messy. He knew how much Punk had cared for John, far more than he usually allowed. Colt knew that there was a possibility Punk would do something stupid. Colt wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did. But to his dismay no one answered when he knocked loudly on his door. Worrying thoughts fled through his usual carefree mind. He scavenged around for the spare key Punk kept around, after flailing around for several minutes looking for it, he found it and burst through the door. Hearing nothing Colt started to freak out. What if Punk had done something? He searched every nook and every cranny but found Punk nowhere. It eased Colt's mind a little, he had expected to find Punk dead or passed out in the bathroom or an even worse situation; finding him drunk. But now the problem of where Punk was filled his mind. He had to find him.
John had started out just like everyone else in Punk's eyes. Like John wasn't worth his time, it wasn't that Punk thought he was better than everyone, but he just hated most people. But John was persistent. He wouldn't let Punk not like him. Because of his persistence Punk was forced to hang out with him, he was forced to like him. John seemed to be kind, like he cared about what Punk had to say, Punk wasn't used to it, it made him feel weird. He disliked letting someone in, but John was just so nice to talk to, he was easy to talk to. So soon John got his wish and Punk started enjoying hanging out with him something that rarely happened. Then John had kissed him and things got complicated. Punk and relationships were two things that didn't really get along. All the relationships he'd had all ended badly, or the people in the relationship weren't the best type of people. Bad history. So he had been hesitant to start anything with John, but John had swayed him around, he wasn't like those guys, he'd treat him right, he'd never hurt him, and Punk had believed him and it had been good. It had been great. The best time of his life. Then Punk started to see through the lies. He started to notice John sneaking around. But he didn't let himself get suspicious; Punk was just overprotective and paranoid. Then one night after a show John had taken him to a club, he had gotten them a stall, he had sat Punk down and ordered him a drink, Punk being too trusting thought it was just his usual Pepsi. It had tasted like normal Pepsi. But as the night passed on Punk was getting light-headed, he was getting dizzy, his thoughts were fuzzy, and he couldn't focus properly so he couldn't figure out why. It was waking up in their shared hotel room with a pounding head, with a bitter taste in his mouth and some whore in John's bed that he realised what had happened. John had fed him alcohol. Punk felt a hopeless sense of rage and pain fill him. Punk used him infamous tongue and he lashed out at John saying things that would make a nun faint. For one thing the whore in John's bed was mighty confused, but John wasn't dazzled at all, he used his own tongue of silver and wormed his way out of blame, turning it back on Punk, and being Punk he fell for it, so the relationship continued. Every night after a show they would head to a club, John never fed him alcohol again but Punk would watch helpless as John would pick up yet another slut. He would say nothing, do nothing, and act like it was nothing. But Punk's small group of tight-knit friends caught on that things were falling apart. They weren't used to seeing Punk so helpless and broken, but Punk defended everything, usually when Punk realised the relationship was bad he'd kick them to the curb, but not this time, so it was clear Punk more than just liked John. He loved John, something Punk didn't allow himself to feel. But when John didn't want Punk hanging out with Colt anymore, Punk snapped. Colt was his best friend and had been for a very long time, he wasn't giving him up for anything or anyone. It was the last straw. Punk left John. Punk was suffering more than John. John didn't even care.
Punk had been running for more than several hours now and his body was starting to let him know. His muscles screamed and his breath was heavier. He could still feel the sick feeling of being drunk, the pounding in his head never left, nor did the bitter taste in his mouth, that had only grown worse. He had been forced to break his straight edge code for some jerk. Some jerk he loved. His footsteps faltered and he let himself slide to the ground. He started to get cold, started shivering but he didn't care. He was in the middle of a street but he didn't care. He didn't care.
Colt was in his crappy car searching the streets for Punk desperately. He had watched Punk start to fall apart, Colt had no idea why jerks seemed to gravitate towards Punk, he didn't like it. He didn't want some jerks arms around Punk, he wanted his own arms to be around him, he wanted to love him and be loved back; he didn't want Punk for whatever those jerks wanted him for. He would never hurt Punk like they had. But Colt had never had the guts to say anything about how he felt; he couldn't risk their friendship like that. His knuckles turned white from griping the steering-wheel too hard. Punk had to be fine. Colt still needed to tell him. His train of thought was broken off when a mysterious object appeared in his headlights on the road ahead. He hit the brakes and got out of the car. He walked over to the thing and cursed when he saw it was Punk. What the hell was he doing in the middle of the road?! Colt grabbed Punk and almost winced at how cold he was. Punk seemed fine, just cold. But he wasn't talking to Colt. Colt carried him to his car and placed him gently in the passenger's seat, he shut the door and went and sat down on the driver's seat. He turned the heating up to full and cast a worried glance at Punk not starting the car. Silence remained. Colt couldn't stand it anymore. "Fuck Punk what the hell? I was so fucking worried, I thought you'd jumped off a bridge or something" still no reply from Punk. "Talk to me dammit!" Colt uncharacteristically snapped. It seemed Punk wasn't going to reply again, Colt went to say more but was cut off "Just leave me out there." Punk's voice was dead. Colt scowled at his best friend. "Never."
Why couldn't Colt just leave him there? Couldn't he see that he'd had enough? Too much bullshit was going on. You can only act indifferent for so long until you truly were. Couldn't Colt see that? When he saw Colt wasn't going to just leave him there he scowled and went to open the door. Colt was always sticking his nose in where it wasn't wanted. He was always there; it got irritating, Punk wanted to be alone. Before his hand reached the door he felt Colt's hand wrap around his other wrist. He wasn't letting Punk get away. He scowled and faced Colt. Before he knew it Colt was awkwardly hugging him over all the gears and stuff. He then went back to his before position and started the car "Never" he repeated again. They then drove off to wherever Colt was taking them.
Colt drove them back to his studio apartment. He wasn't letting Punk be alone, not right now. They both walked in and Colt instantly went to get blankets and things for the couch for Punk or himself. Punk watched him a little puzzled, the car ride had been silent and Punk had expected Colt to drop him home not here. Colt cast a glance at Punk over his shoulder. "You're staying here tonight" he told him in a no arguing voice. "Maybe I don't want to" he replied curtly, but Colt was having none of that. "Too fucking bad" he snapped getting fed up with Punk's attitude. Colt was helping him and that was that. Defeated Punk collapsed on the couch which was bundled with blankets. It was actually really comfy. Colt sat down next to him and threw his arm casually around Punk's shoulders, in a friendy way. "Tell me what happened" Colt said gently, and so Punk did.
Punk could see the rage boiling in Colt's veins. He hated John, it was obvious now. Colt had never liked him. Colt had told Punk he was a player, he was bad news, but Punk stupidly ignored his friends' advice. Look where that got him. Neither had said anything when Punk finished but Colt appeared to be muttering things under his breath. Although he would never admit it, he liked the feeling of Colt's arm draped over him, he liked the closeness between them, and he didn't want Colt to move. He felt safe in his arms. Punk tried to catch snippets of what Colt was muttering but he couldn't quite pick it up. A particularly loud remark Punk caught on. He frowned looking at Colt "Wait what did you just say?" was it just his imagination or did Colt's cheeks become more rosy tinged than before? He seemed embarrassed. Did he hear right then? "Did you just say what I think you did?" Punk pushed. Punk still looked at Colt waiting for a reply; he most certainly didn't expect it when Colt's lips were suddenly on his own. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He felt himself relaxing and melting into the kiss. He'd wanted to do this for so long. Colt's arm around him tightened pulling him closer and the kiss deepened. Quicker than they both liked they pulled away. Colt looked so awkward it was cute. Punk although pleased with this development was puzzled, he hadn't even known Colt swung this way, let alone liked him of all people. His usual fears and insecurities about relationships surfaced, he had only just gotten out of his relationship with John, was he ready for another? Would Colt hurt him? His head told him no, but that didn't stop the doubts creeping in.
Colt took a deep breath, surprised with himself. He had actually kissed Punk. Kissed him! To add to that Punk had kissed him back. But now Punk looked hesitant, and having known Punk for a long time Colt knew what it was about. He was worried about how this would turn out, scared he would get hurt again. "I would never hurt you like that" Colt repeated what he had said earlier, the words Punk had picked up on. Punk looked at him uncertain still. "That's what I said" he continued. Punk had known he'd picked up correctly, not that Colt full blow kissing him was a dead giveaway of that either or anything.
"I'd never hurt you" those were four words Punk had heard a million times or more. They all had the same outcome. But this time it was different. This time the person speaking the words meant it. So this time Punk let himself fully believe it. This time it would be different. Because this time it wasn't some jerk, it was Colt. "I'd never hurt you" Colt repeated the words making sure the words got through into Punk's brain. Punk let out a small smile, the first he'd cracked in a while. Colt wrapped both arms around him, pulling him into a tight loving embrace and Punk returned the gesture letting himself get lost in Colt's warmth. Colt would never hurt him.
(Ahh just a oneshot I wrote as my muse struck. Sorry if its shit ^^)
