Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE, not even a single share.
AN: The beginning of this chapter will seem familiar because I chopped it off the end of The Summer of Punk so that the story had an actual ending point.
September 19, 2011
Monday Night Raw
Even though both men would rather be someplace with a bed or an out of the way storage closet, they still had a match to win.
Once they were both at ringside, John started off the match against Miz. As they tagged in and out their chemistry as opponents was only amplified as tag team partners. John couldn't stop smiling and Punk could feel the corners of his mouth turning up as well.
John was taking most of the punishment in the match. Punk had a theory that this was probably intentional on John's part. John eventually tagged him in Punk making short work of Truth and Miz; hitting the GTS on Miz he got the pin.
John jumped in the ring, lifting Punk's arm in the air with so much force he thought John was going to rip it out of its socket. They were both celebrating in the ring together when Triple H's music queued up.
Triple H came out with a mic, "Punk, good match, Miz, Truth, you're fired," and with that Triple H walked backstage.
Miz and Truth were standing, dumbfounded, outside the ring and John and Punk couldn't help smiling at each other.
John walked closer to Punk, "you get a good match Punk and I get nothing. Looks like you have a new best friend."
"Oh shut up you," and then Punk saw Miz and Truth take off running for the backstage area.
"John, hurry your ass up, I have no idea what's going to happen but I definitely don't want to miss it."
By the time they got backstage they saw an extremely disheveled Triple H walking away and a roster in disarray.
"Damn it! Morrison, what did we miss?"
"Miz and Truth jumped Triple H and then he had them thrown, kicking and screaming, out of the building."
"I can't believe I missed that. Someone better upload this quick to YouTube so I can see those two get ejected bodily from the building."
John and Punk returned to their hotel room, barely able to keep their hands off each other the entire trip from the arena and up the elevator. They both rushed into the room, slamming the door behind them, clothes flying everywhere.
"I thought you were injured," John said breathlessly.
"Adrenaline, nature's crack. Do you want to fuck me or should I start putting clothes back on?"
"Try it and I'll burn every stitch of clothing that you own."
They fell to the bed, kissing feverishly when there was a knock on the door.
"Punk, its Hunter. I need to talk to you."
"Shit! It's Triple H!"
"Come on Punk, I know you're in there."
"Just a second."
Punk started throwing his clothes back on. John grabbed him forcefully, kissing him intensely.
"Get rid of him. I'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't remember anything but my name," and John walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Punk answered the door, Triple H walking right in.
"Listen. I know you and I will probably never like each other, but after last night I know we respect each other. I just want to get some things straight because I have the feeling that me firing Truth and Miz isn't going to stop the WWE's current slide into chaos. I was pissed when I had to ask you, of all people, to come back to the WWE. I may have said some things that weren't exactly the truth, but I was just so furious about the whole situation. I set the match for Hell in a Cell because you deserve…wait, don't you room with Cena?"
"Yeah."
"Where is he?"
"Bathroom."
"Why don't you tell him to come out of his hiding place? I don't care if he hears this."
"Uh…"
Triple H kicked something with his foot, "I assume these aren't your jorts?"
"How do you know that? Maybe I like to dress up as John Cena in my private life."
"Jesus Fucking Christ. If Cena's clothes are scattered all over the floor then…Holy Shit," and Triple H closed his eyes, as if trying to ward off the visual. "Why don't you take loverboy his clothes and get his ass out here."
Punk rounded up John's clothes and as he approached the bathroom the door open and crack and Punk passed John his clothes. John came out a minute later.
"You two, sit."
John and Punk sat next to each other on the side of the bed. John reached out his hand to grasp Punk's but Punk quickly moved his hands out of reach. John instead curled his hand around Punk's bare knee.
"Could you two refrain from touching each other in my presence? I'm going to have to get a lobotomy as it is. Listen, you two are consenting adults and I'm your boss not your father. Just know that this can never get out."
"Do you think we don't know that," Punk said indignantly.
"Does anyone else know about this?"
Punk and John remained silent.
"I'm going to take that as a yes, but I've never heard a whisper about anything between you two so they must be trustworthy."
Punk just laughed.
"You are not exactly inspiring me with confidence."
"Listen, we've been doing our jobs with no complaints about our performance. We can handle ourselves," John said seriously.
"Fine. Please, God, let's never talk about this again."
Triple H walked toward the door, but turned around with his hand on the doorknob, "Stephanie is going to love this," and Triple H left the room.
Both men stared at the closed door, neither able to process what had just occurred.
"Did we just get cockblocked by The Game?" John asked with a hint of frustration in his voice.
September 20, 2011
"Mom, you can stop staring at the door, it's not going to make him get here any faster."
"I thought you two were flying in together?"
"They asked him at the last minute to do an autograph signing and he doesn't know how to say no when it comes to his fans," Punk said with slight irritation lacing his response.
"Shouldn't you at least be nervous, you are bringing him home to meet your mother?"
"If I'm nervous about anything it's you trying to steal him out from under me."
"Out from under you, really?"
"Can't you go bake some cookies and not try to read sexual intent into everything I say?"
"If I was a baked goods sort of mom you wouldn't be so devastatingly witty, you would be boring, like a dentist or something."
"Stop. You're going to give me nightmares."
There was a knock at the door. Punk remained seated as there was no way he was going to outpace his mother who moved faster than the majority of the guys he was frequently in the ring with. She opened the door so quickly that it bounced on its hinges because it could not be opened any wider. John was on the other side.
"Hello, Mrs. Brooks. It's so nice to meet you finally, these are for you," and John handed over a bouquet of flowers.
Punk stood, catching John's gaze over his mother's shoulder, and rolled his eyes with as much exaggeration as he could. His boyfriend was a mother's wet dream.
"These are so lovely, let me just go get a vase to put these in," she said as she left the room.
"Did you have to bring my mother flowers? Now she's going to expect them all the time."
"You don't send you mother flowers?"
"Not usually, no, but because of you and your chivalry I'm going to have to now aren't I."
"I had to bring her something nice; she brought you into the world didn't she."
"Have you been reading romance novels to come up with a line like that? You must want something."
"Can't I just be nice?"
"To my utter mortification you are nice for the majority of the hours during the day and often to people who don't deserve your niceness in the slightest. You don't usually pull your John Cena act on me, you must want something."
"As a matter of fact I do want something from you," John said heatedly, his eyes drifting down to Punk's feet and raking up the rest of his body until they were eye to eye again. "Triple H ruined what was going to be a fantastic night. Anticipation is exciting and all but I would much rather instant gratification."
"Well, we are currently in my mother's living room and while she would delight in walking in on us making out on the couch like a teenagers I like we had better just sit down and brace ourselves for the Spanish inquisition."
They took a seat on the couch. Punk's mother came back into the room, placing the flowers on the coffee table.
"Philip, up, go sit on the chair, I want to sit next to your man."
Punk immediately rose and went to sit across the room.
"What was that?" John asked with barely contained laughter in his voice.
"Philip is very well behaved with the right motivation."
John just remained silent. He had affected the same behavior from Punk on occasion but there was usually the threat of orgasm denial involved.
"So, what is a polite man like you doing with my son? You're so nice and clean-cut and not a tattoo in sight. You're about a thousand steps up from the usual miscreants he dates."
"Mother!"
"What? You're the one that was suffering from abysmally low standards and now you bring home someone, that I hate to say, is out of your league personality-wise. I watch the show on occasion; my son has frequently behaved like a jackass towards you on multiple occasions."
"I love all your son's qualities, even the jackass ones."
"You must have the patience of a saint, lord knows I don't. There have been times I wanted to take a switch to him with his constant backtalk."
"Can I leave the room? I want to still be speaking to both of you by the end of the day. If I stay for any more of this conversation I'm going to bail on both of you."
"I'll go get us drinks so Philip can collect himself as he obviously needs to."
"Let me help you," John said, getting up and following Punk's mother into the kitchen.
When they returned to the living room Punk was exactly where they had left him, he had not made a break for it.
"Glad to see that you're still here. Now what can I do to embarrass you further. How about baby pictures," Punk's mother said gleefully.
She walked to the bookcase and laid her hand briefly on an empty shelf.
"Philip Jack Brooks! Where are all of my photo albums?"
Punk tried to look innocent, but that expression was utterly lost on him.
"They're still in the house."
"Where in the house?"
"You'll find them eventually, hopefully long after we're gone."
"You're the worst son ever, I hope you know that."
"Did you really have to pull that on your mother?"
"Oh she deserved it and she has no room for complaints. She knows damn well she raised a devious child and not an altar boy. There was no way those pictures were going to see the light of day. There's one album that is me, frolicking in the tub, completely naked. If she knew a little bit more about how to use the internet my naked ass would be all over the web."
"You know, I have some particularly risqué photos of you on my laptop. I wonder what the internet would think of those."
"Please tell me you know what password protection is. Also, would you really want naked pictures of your boyfriend floating around the internet?"
"Hell no! You do realize that you just called me your boyfriend. You've never done that before."
"What am I supposed to call you? My special friend, my significant other, none of the available options work for me. You're just going to have to settle for boyfriend."
"I have no problems with that title."
Punk unlocked the door to his apartment, opening the door wide so that John and his luggage could enter.
"What happened to your futon? I have extremely fond memories of that thing."
"A, I learned it was not conducive to sex and B, I make more money now and can afford a couch."
John rushed Punk, toppling them both onto his new couch.
"You know what they say about new furniture, it needs to be properly broken in."
September 24, 2011
Punk had spent the last two shows emotionally conflicted, bouncing between professional elation at beating del Rio twice and sexual frustration as John was not booked at either of these house shows. John was off on some whirlwind publicity and autograph signing tour. He was pretty sure Triple H had arranged it that way just to spite him.
Punk was walking out the arena door on his way to his hotel room when he was waylaid by Melina.
"What are you doing here? I didn't see you on the card."
"I'm traveling with John. Good thing to because he is in a terrible mood. Better for him to take it out on me than some random co-worker or road agent."
"I can imagine. If I had been beaten out twice for the US Championship by Ziggler I'd be in a pretty foul mood as well."
"Come out to dinner with us. If there is a third person there his mood might improve."
"If you wanted mood improvement you should see my boyfriend. I'm not known for my infectious sunny disposition."
"Very true. Well at least he'll have someone new to complain to."
"That's more my speed."
"Where's your congenial other half?"
"Off on some tour delighting his pre-pubescent fans all over the Midwest."
"I haven't had my usual opportunity to watch my favorite soap opera. How are you and John doing these days?"
"I let him meet my mother."
"Oh, that's a big step, how did that go?"
"My mother tried her hardest to convince John that he was too good for me and then she tried to embarrass the hell out of me. I averted that second crisis by sheer underhandedness and I don't think John can be convinced to get rid of me, even though we're wrestling each other at Hell in a Cell."
"How is that going to work out?"
"I'm hoping we can eliminate del Rio completely from the picture then settle things between us, but this is the WWE. A straight up wrestling match with a clean finish is too much to hope for. Also, you and John now have some company in the knowledge of what is really going on between me and John."
"From the look on your face I don't think I even want to know but tell me anyway."
"Triple H, and probably Stephanie too by this point."
"How in the hell did that happen?"
"Triple H came to our room and figured out what was going on when John couldn't come out from his hiding place in the bathroom because we had left his clothes strewn about the room. He followed the obvious clues to the correct conclusion."
"The poor thing must have been shocked senseless. I would give almost anything to have seen the look on his face."
"He's probably written fifty letters of resignation since then just to avoid having to come face to face with us again."
"You just better hope that the billion dollar princess doesn't want to go on a double date."
