Warnings: Slash (Stone Cold Steve Austin/Dean Ambrose/CM Punk), Smut.

The plan that Steve and his boys had made was to meet at Punk's place for Halloween. Not actual Halloween itself, because Dean's busy, but on the few days he's got free. Punk had been suitably excited, and obviously pushing for everyone being there for his birthday. The twenty-sixth had worked out surprisingly nicely. So, Steve finds himself waiting in Arrivals for Dean, his ear buds shoved in, and his cap pulled down low.

"For being so famous, you're surprisingly hard to spot." Dean laughs as he taps Steve's shoulder. "You got a rental?"

"Keys are in my pocket… Though why Punkster isn't coming to get us is a mystery." Steve pushes off from the wall he was leaning on, and leads the way to where the rental's waiting for them.

"Who knows with him… He might have something awesome planned." Dean grins over at Steve, and hefts his bag a little higher on his shoulder. "You get him anything?" Steve shakes his head at Dean's question.

"I never know what to get either of you to be honest. You're both awkward little brats… Who knows what you kids are into these days." Steve opens the rental and waves Dean in. Dean chuckles as he gets in the car, and tossing his bag into the back seat.

"I was thinking of getting him bubble wrap, seeing as having the shit kicked out of hasn't changed his mind on this whole MMA thing." Dean laughs, and Steve snorts in amusement. "You saw what happened… It was not good! He needs some kind of reason talked into him."

"Well, that ain't gonna be done by either of us. He's a stubborn little shit." Steve pulls away from the airport, and starts on the journey to Punk's place. Dean nods absently, and fiddles with the radio, changing station every few seconds.

"How long you staying? I think I can manage a day or two." Dean's still not settled on a station, and seems to be incredibly bored as they hit traffic.

"Bout the same." Steve bats his hands from the radio. "We're listening to this one, Deano. Leave it alone." Dean sticks his tongue out, and settles back in his seat. "I might see if he wants to come spend some time with me out of Chicago. It'd probably be good for him."

"LA or Texas?" Dean's pulled out his phone, and is fiddling with it instead. He seems incredibly fidgety. Steve's hoping that whatever Punk has planned will work some of this excess energy out of their younger lover. It's nice having someone as young as Dean in the relationship, but sometimes, Steve would like for him to be less of a fidgety brat.

"Dunno. I'll ask him myself. You gonna come out wherever we are on your next day off?" Steve reaches over, and catches one of Dean's hands, squeezing it tightly.

"Yeah, of course. What's the point of a day off if I don't spend it with you pair? C'mon old man!" Dean laughs, and twists his hand so he can hold Steve's. "I'm kinda bored on the road." Dean squeezes Steve's hand, and rests his head back against his seat. "What you think Punkerino's got planned?"

"Who know with that boy." Steve laughs, and squeezes Dean's hand again. The rest of the drive they chatter about the current WWE product, indulging in the conversation that they can't have around Punk. His relationship with the WWE remains frosty to say the least. It's safer for everyone involved for neither Steve nor Dean to say anything on the matter.

When they get into Punk's place there's a note pinned to the wall, and two bags underneath it. One bag labelled with Steve's name, and the other with Dean's.

Costume party!

Your costumes are in separate bags. No swapping! I sized them! Get changed fast!

Punk xxx

"Costumes?" Dean picks up the bag labelled with his name, and raises an eyebrow at Steve. "He had something knocked into him, but it sure as hell wasn't sense." Dean laughs.

"I'm taking the bathroom upstairs, you get changed down here, boy." Steve pats Dean on the head, then ruffles his hair. "I suppose we should be quick about it, because it seems like Punkster has some idea for what he wants to do for his birthday."

"Something kinky, hopefully." Dean laughs, and snags the back of Steve's neck, drawing him in for a kiss. It's a sloppy, slow paced kiss that leaves Steve smiling, and Dean grinning like a brat. Steve pulls away from him, and leaves Dean with a swat on the ass.

In the bathroom, upstairs, Steve opens his costume bag, and raises an eyebrow at what's inside. A very traditional, and well-made vampire costume. It raises more questions about what Punk's got planned than it provides answers really. He actually might be having a costume party, which wouldn't be bad, but like Dean said, Steve's hoping for something kinky out of tonight. Costume sex wasn't high on his list of things he'd like to try, but he's not going to object to whatever it is what Punk's cooked up.

Steve leaves the bathroom feeling a bit of a fool, but intrigued as to what costume Punk's picked out for Dean. He wanders down stairs to find Dean sitting on the couch dressed also as vampire.

"No sign of Punk?" Dean asks, and Steve shakes his head. There's no obvious indication that Punk's here. Presumably he is, but there's no indication of it anywhere. "You don't think he's just ditched us, do you?" Dean stretches his legs out as Steve takes a seat beside him.

"That's not likely." Steve ruffles Dean's hair, and takes a closer look at Dean's costume. "You think there's a reason we're dressed as vampires?"

"Maybe he wants us to hunt him?" Dean laughs. For a moment Steve considers it, and then gets to his feet.

"That's exactly what he's after. C'mon." Steve offers a hand down to Dean, and pulls him up off the couch.

Punk's bedroom has been dressed up in a rather flouncy fashion. There's several candles in holders though they are unlit, and lacy curtains rigged up around his bed. The man himself only barely visible behind them.

"You think he's gotten all dressed up too?" Dean whispers to Steve, as they hover at the ajar door to Punk's room. Steve's hoping that Punk has. It's been a long time since he saw Punk dressed up in something frilly, and he's hoping that Punk's taken this vampire thing back to the Victorian era. He'd not object to Punk being dressed in a pretty coreset in the least.

"Only one way to find out." Steve pushes the door open further, and creeps into the bedroom, falling into the role of a vampire stalking his prey. Dean creeps in behind him, and goes around the other side of the bed. It seems like Punk's fallen asleep, whether by accident or design is up for debate. Steve's willing to bet that it was by design, but he might have just gotten bored waiting for them to arrive. Dean carefully draws one of the lacy curtains back, and looks up at Steve through the other. He lays a light kiss to Punk's throat, and then appears to start nibbling at it. Punk makes a soft noise, like he was just waking up. Steve draws back his own curtain, and starts laying kisses along Punk's wrist. He's drawing on all his knowledge of vampire movies as a cue for what to do, but he's not a big fan of horror, and Dean's not a big fan of sitting still for more than thirty seconds, so he's unlikely to be able to offer too much help in this matter.

"Wha?" Punk wakes up a little more, and Dean draws him into a kiss. Steve takes that opportunity to pull the blanket off Punk, and is a little disappointed. No lace, no frills. Just some sweatpants and a t-shirt. Steve slips a hand under Punk's shirt, and pushes it up his chest. Punk blinks sleepily at him for a moment, and then Dean starts kissing him. Steve starts trailing kisses over Punk's chest and stomach. His hands delve down further, one slipping under the waistband of Punk's pants. Punk's hips buck slightly. Steve pulls away, and casts his eyes around the room, looking for, and finding the lube on the nightstand. He grabs it, and pulls Punk's pants from his body. Dean breaks the kiss, and returns to nibbling at Punk's throat. Steve eases a lube coated finger into Punk's ass, making his back arch. Steve preps Punk with care, but speed. He wants out of this costume, but clearly Punk's made plans for this so he'll indulge him for now. Once this is over though, Steve's taking this stupid getup off. Dean pulls away from Punk, and leans over to Steve.

"He's made us dress up like idiots, so I say we dress him up with something too." Dean draws Steve into a kiss, and grabs one of Punk's legs, pulling it up a little, forcing his legs farther apart. Punk makes an odd little noise, still slightly groggy from being woken up unexpectedly. Steve moves between Punk's legs, and hands Dean the lube.

"Me, then you, then him?" Steve asks, and Dean's eyes widen. A smirk spreads over his lips, and nods popping the cap from the lube bottle, and starting to stroke his cock.

"Sounds like a plan, Steveo." Dean runs a finger over Punk's eyebrows, and trails it down to his lips. "We're gonna make you so pretty." He coos softly, and Punk starts lapping at his finger. Steve thrusts his dick into Punk, burying it deep, and sets a fast, hard pace. Dean moves out of the way, and Steve latches onto Punk's throat, working a mark on his skin. Punk moans softly, his nails scrabbling over the fabric of Steve's cloak. Dean's watching them carefully, his hand stroking over his cock deliberately. He watches as Steve pumps his hips, driving his cock in and out of Punk's body. Punk's eyes have fallen closed, his breathing picking up. Once Steve feels like he's close, he reluctantly pulls out, and lets Dean take his place between Punk's thighs. Dean starts fucking Punk as hard and fast as Steve had been. His hands are clamped onto Punk's hips, pulling him into each one of Dean's thrusts into his body. Steve's eyes are riveted to the sight of his boys fucking. This is nothing like other times he's watched them together. There's none of the usual gentile tenderness Dean shows Punk. Instead it's almost like Dean's trying to fuck the sense that Dean thinks he's lacking into Punk. His hands are sure to leave bruises on Punk's hips to match the collar of bite marks around Punk's neck. Punk's clearly, and blatantly marked as belonging to someone, someone possessive, and protective. There's no way he can step into an octagon with so much evidence of sex on his body. Eventually, Dean pulls out of Punk, and moves up beside Steve. He meets Steve's eye, then takes a hold of Steve's cock. Steve wraps his hand around Dean's dick, and strokes it hard and fast. He aims the head directly at Punk's mildly bewildered, and still slightly sleepy face. Steve comes first, but he somehow has the presence of mind to keep stroking Dean, and bring him off just as the last spurt of Steve's cum lands on Punk's face. Once they're both satiated, they offer their cocks to Punk's mouth. He laps the remnants of their cum from their slits. His hips buck up once, and Steve wraps a hand around his cock. Dean grins over at Steve, and helps him angle Punk's body so that his own cock is pointing down at his face. It's awkward, and difficult, but between them they manage to aim Punk's release onto his face along with their own. Punk lies staring up at them, his face glistening with three loads, and his eyes finally looking awake. He smirks slightly, and pulls his shirt over his head, wiping his messy face with it. Steve flops down beside him, Dean on the other side of Punk. Punk himself is touching his neck tentatively, and smiling softly.

"What time is it?" Punk asks after a little time has passed. Dean groans, and turns to look at the bedside clock.

"Just after six. Why?" He sits up, and fetches the blanket from the floor. He tosses it on the bed, and starts pulling off his costume.

"No!" Punk springs off the bed, and catches Dean's hands. "You didn't get it dirty, did you?" He starts examining Dean's clothes, and then turns to Steve to do the same.

"Why? Did you rent them or something?" Steve bats Punk's frantic hands away. Punk looks at him with a weird expression, and shakes his head.

"I told you in the note. It said costume party, and I wasn't joking. I mean, I was expecting this a little later. Now was fun, but we have a party to go to. I'm gonna shower. Make yourselves presentable. We're leaving in an hour."

Happy Halloween!