Warnings: Slash (Colt/Punk) and (Cena/Punk), Profanity, Fluff, Split Personality in a kind of Dr Jekyll/Mr Hyde kind of way.
"The fuck you want, asshole?" It's not how I expected to be greeted when I knocked on my boyfriend's door, but once I realise who answered it makes sense. Punk hates me with a burning passion for reasons I've never had explained to me.
"Punkers! Be nice!" His lover calls from the living room, and a feeling of complete and utter relief washes over me. The only person who can keep Punk calm and focussed is the man who shuffles up behind him, his arms wrapping around Punk's waist, when he's with Colt, Punk is manageable. "Merry Christmas, John." Colt smiles at me, and I nod vaguely, wondering if I should just leave.
"Yeah, uh Merry Christmas, Colt..." I think he's Jewish, and I know that they don't have Christmas, but it's bred in me to be polite, so I wish it to him anyways. Punk snorts, an unimpressed, unhappy look on his face.
"Thanks." Colt smiles awkwardly, and Punk pulls out of his arms, ignoring me and going back to the living room.
"He's in a mood?" I ask carefully. I'm never sure exactly where I stand with Colt. Our situation is very difficult. We're dating two different people, but they share more than a house, they share a body. I don't quite get how it works, I don't quite understand any of it, but I'm dating Phil, and Colt's dating Punk, and my Phil and Colt's Punk share a body. I've mental decided it's a split personality. I don't know if that's entirely accurate, but its close enough I guess. They're two very different people. Punk hates me, and I think Phil loves me, he at least likes me, and I know I love him.
"It's Punk being Punk. You know what he's like." Colt laughs, and takes my coat hanging it on the rack. "I'll settle him down a little then leave you and Phil alone." He smiles at me, and I shake my head at him. I've known Colt for months now, and he's still a mystery to me. He's a nice guy, but he's not open with people, sure, he's plenty friendly, but it feels like a facade of geniality, rather than a real friendliness.
"He hates me." I mutter, toeing off my shoes, and wincing when Colt laughs, leaving me alone. It's depressing knowing that the other person who inhabits my lover's body hates me, but Punk makes no bones about his distaste for me.
"I do." Punk sneers when I enter the living room. He's sitting curled up by Colt, his head on Colt's chest, looking utterly content with being treated like an overgrown cat.
"Phil likes Cena, Punkers. Be nice to him for Phil, okay?" Colt's hand runs through Punk's hair, which draws a softly content sound from him.
"Hmm... For you I will be pleasant." Punk mutters haughtily, and I sit on the end of the couch, my eyes glued to the TV screen, ignoring the happy couple beside me. Time seems to slow down to a crawl, and I can feel my awareness slipping as we watch countless terribly dull documentaries.
"John?" Phil's soft voice draws me out of the bad TV induced coma I was in, his thin fingers brushing over my cheek. I forget how beautiful he is until I see him again. He might share a body with Punk, but my Phil is so much more beautiful.
"Hey baby." My hand cups his cheek, and Colt snorts, moving Phil from his lap. Phil smiles at me, nuzzling into my palm, a sweetly small smile on his lips.
"I'll get going." Colt stands, and Phil nods at him, an awkward smile on his face. "If..." He points to the book on the table, and Phil nods again, standing and giving Colt an awkward hug.
"Bye." I call to Colt, getting a vague bye in return, and Phil curls up beside me once more, his head on my shoulder. There's something heavy and sad hanging over him, and I run my fingers through his hair, and press a kiss to his temple. "What is it, baby?"
"It's nothing..." Phil sighs, and then moves away from me, curling into himself slightly. "Punk hates you." He mutters, picking up the book. In it, I know there will be everything Punk thought Phil should know about what happened today, and I know that before he goes to sleep Phil will write back to Punk. I've often wondered which one of them is the real person who should be in charge of this body. Is it the sweet soft Phil who curls up at my side, and blushes whenever I even kiss him, or is it the brash cold Punk who hates me and is only sweet and soft for Colt?
"He does... But you don't, do you?" I reach out and stroke his ankle, getting a shy little smile in return.
"No... I don't." He glances back at the book, smiling at whatever Punk had written. It's all in a code, I can't understand it even if I try to, and I have, Phil's let me see the book before, but it was all gibberish to me. "I... I don't hate you. I like you, a lot." He smiles timidly at me, and I grin back at him.
"Only like? Hmm... I more than like you Phil." I smile at him, and he glances away again, his blush deepening. "In fact I lo-"
"Don't, John... Please don't." His voice is tiny, so quiet I almost don't hear him talking, and I hold back a sigh. I've wanted to tell him I love him for so long, but he always stops me, always.
"Why?" It's frustrating not knowing, it's frustrating to love him so much but being unable to tell him, unable to declare my feelings from the rooftops for some unknown reason.
"Because..." Phil closes the book, and moves closer to me again. "Because I'll get scared, and go away." He finishes quietly, and I kiss his hair.
"Why will you get scared?" It's cruel to keep questioning him like this, I know it is, and at this rate, I'm going to have to call Colt back to deal with a murderous Punk, but I think if I keep the questions small and soft I might be able to tease some answers from Phil without Punk stepping in.
"Because I don't understand." He sighs softly, curling up at my side. "I'm not well... I'm not whole. You don't love a real person."
"Colt loves Punk, and Punk's not well either." I know that's true, I know Punk and Colt are in love. I've heard them talking, I've heard Punk tell Colt he loves him, I've heard Colt tell Punk that he loves him in return. I've seen love in their actions. Their relationship is something I'm a little envious of, the depth and warmth of it is astounding when I consider the tiny baby steps Phil and I make, but they've been together for years, Phil and I have only had months.
"That's different... Colt's different, he's not you, and Punk's not me, and I like Colt, we're friends... Punk hates you." Phil snuggles up to me as he talks, and I hold him tightly.
"Why does he hate me?" I've never known, not really, but I think I need to; I need to know why the other half of my lover despises me with so much passion.
"He thinks you'll hurt me... He says you were married, that you divorced your wife... That you're a player because you cheated on her." Phil says softly, and I stare at him. It's true I divorced my wife; it's also true that I cheated on her, but I didn't think Punk knew about that.
"I did, but I'm not a player." I'd never hurt Phil, he's nothing like anyone I've ever met, and not just because of his personality split. He's soft, he's gentle, he's fragile in a way that I've never seen anyone be before. There's a delicate elegance to Phil, and I adore it, I adore him. "I cheated on her, yes, but-"
"But nothing." Punk's voice snaps, and he rises from my lap, starting to pace the floor. "You were married! You loved someone enough to marry them, and you fucked someone else behind her back!"
"I didn't!" I stand, trying to use my height advance to intimidate Punk. It fails miserably, and he stares me back into sitting, leaving me feeling tiny under his heavy glare. "I fell in love." I whisper, and he scoffs, grabbing the book, turning to a new page and scribbling furiously on it.
"With who?" He snarls, and I stare at him. His face is my Phil's but Phil never looks the way Punk does. Phil never wears these harsh scowls, never laughs as hard as Punk does, never seems to feel as much as Punk can. Phil is mild and gentle compared to Punk, not a pale reflection, just a softer, sweeter person, just different.
"Phil." I say quietly, and Punk scoffs. "I say him in the gym, running on a treadmill... I thought he was beautiful. I had no idea what to say to him, but every day I'd watch him, trying to build up the confidence to talk to him. Then one day it was you who was there, with Colt, and I wondered what was different about him, because he wasn't himself." Punk snorts in disbelief, and I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. It's true though. I knew that Punk wasn't Phil from the first time I saw him. Punk carries himself with surety. Phil is always a little timid, always a little shy, always cowering a little from the rest of the World. Phil is delicate, Punk isn't. I knew they were different people. "I thought you were twins." I shake my head, and Punk scowls at me. "It took me weeks to build up the courage to talk to him, and he was so nervous he barely spoke, he just blushed... I think that's when I really realised that I was more interested in him than I should have been. I was married, I was straight, and he's a guy." Punk sits, staring at me, the book in his hand.
"You'll hurt him. I know you'll hurt him." Punk snaps, and I shake my head, staring straight back at him.
"Why isn't he with Colt? You're so convinced that he's perfect for you, why isn't he perfect for Phil as well?" It wasn't a smart thing to say, Punk looks furious, and I'm expecting him to swing for me.
"Colt is mine." Punk hisses, his eyes narrowed. "He's not Phil's type." There's something final in Punk's tone, and I stare at him, wanting him to explain himself more. "He likes big, musclely guys... Colt's not his type."
"Colt's not small. He's got some muscle on him." I shrug, and Punk growls at me, perceiving an insult to his precious Colt.
"Phil likes big, dumb, meatheads who will hurt him. Phil's an idiot." Punk huffs, and I shake my head.
"I won't hurt him." I want Punk to believe me so badly. He has to understand that I love Phil; I'd never do anything to hurt him. I can't even conceive of being able to hurt my precious little Phil, the idea is abhorrent to me.
"You all say that, and yet." He taps the notebook. "There're enough stories in here of people like you hurting him... He's too delicate for the people he wants... He needs someone to protect him, not to abuse him."
"I would never hurt him!" I couldn't, I can't even imagine anyone wanting to hurt Phil. He's a perfect little jewel, someone to be treasured and protected; hurting him would be like abusing a puppy, inherently wrong.
"They all say that." Punk sighs, and shakes his head. "Every one of them has said they'll look after him, that they'll care for him, and every time..." He trails off, rubbing his hands together, looking small and cold, his shoulders shaking, his breathing speeding up.
"Do you want me to get Colt?" I stand, planning on going to Colt's apartment. It's just across the hall, and I know he'll come, no questions asked. Punk nods, his eyes drifting closed.
"Please... Talk to him, he'll... Just get him here." Punk's curled into himself, the book pressed to his chest by his knees. I move quickly, knocking on Colt's door.
"Cena?" He looks surprised, but doesn't ask any questions, just grabs his keys, locks his door and walks into the other apartment. "Punkers?" Punk's up out of his seat, and wrapped around Colt before I really know what's going on. Colt's swaying him gently from side to side, muttering soothing nonsense against his hair. "What did you do?" He asks me, his arms tightening around Punk's trembling body. By the way Punk's shaking, I'd say he was crying, but that goes against everything I know about him.
"We were talking... I was talking to Phil, and they switched, and then I was talking to Punk." I stare at them, standing nervously near the door. Punk says something softly to Colt, and he kisses his hair. I almost feel like I should be jealous of watching another man holding my Phil, but Phil isn't Punk, even a frail Punk isn't my Phil.
"You gotta let Phil make his own mistakes, Punkers." Colt mutters just loud enough for me to hear.
"But he'll get hurt again... I don't-"
"Shh... It'll be okay. I won't let him get that low again, I promise. C'mon, sit down with me. I'll talk to John, you sleep." Colt lets Punk go just long enough to sit on the couch, and Punk lies down, his head in Colt's lap, his face turned to Colt's stomach. "Sit down, Cena. You're making the place look untidy." He laughs, and I sit in a chair, staring at Punk's back. After a while, Colt looks up from studying Punk's face. "Phil tired to kill himself. Punk woke up in hospital terrified and covered with bandages. Phil started dating an asshole that beat the shit out of him. Punk woke up in a hospital terrified, covered in bandages and I almost got arrested. Phil was raped. Punk woke-"
"Up in a hospital?" I stare at Colt, and he smiles wryly. I had no idea, I've no idea. The relationship between Punk and my Phil is complicated, the actions of one has such a profound effect on the other, and it seems Phil makes terrible choices, and has had terrible things happen to him. It makes me want to bundle him in my arms and bubble wrap, to keep him safe forevermore. "I didn't know..."
"Phil gets into a new relationship, then Punk gets worried, and it all spirals. Take it slow... Don't rush Phil... I get that you want to move things forward, but if you really do love him, wait." Colt smiles as Punk snores once. "Idiot." Colt strokes Punk's forehead softly. "If you can't take it as slow as they need you to, walk away now before Punk and I have to deal with the consequences." He looks pleadingly at me, and I stare at him. "I've been with Punk since we were kids. I've known them for years..."
"When they were still one person?" I ask hopefully, and Colt looks at me coolly, but nods. "What... Which one?" I ask, and Colt glares at me.
"That's not a question I can answer... Punk is Punk and Phil is Phil. That's the way it is, and that's the way it's going to stay. If you can't deal with it, and I know a lot of guys can't, then leave Phil alone, please." He's pleading with me again, and I shake my head, I can't leave Phil alone, I'm too in love with him.
"I love him... I really do... He's like no one I've ever met before. He's sweet and delicate like spun sugar. He's smart, he's beautiful. He's everything I never knew I needed." Colt stares at me, an odd look on his face.
"Don't tell him that, not yet." He strokes Punk's cheek. "Did you give him his Christmas present?"
"No... I fucked up before I had time to." I laugh miserably, and Colt sighs, shaking Punk lightly. "Phil... Wake up." I can tell by the way he moves that it's my Phil that's in control of their shared body. The way he sits up, the way he moves his limbs slowly, carefully, it's definitely not Punk's movements. "Colt? What-"
"It's okay." Colt assures him, a smile on his face, and Phil nods, his back still turned to me.
"John left, didn't he?" Phil says softly, curling into himself, and I laugh, standing and resting my hand on his shoulder.
"Never." Colt frowns at me, and Phil turns to me, a happy surprised smile on his face. "I'm here for as long as you want me to be, baby." Colt snorts, and leaves. I hope that I don't need to call on him again, but he's close enough that if I need to it's not hard to do, I guess.
"I thought you'd be gone... I'm sorry I got scared." Phil looks away, and I tilt his face up to me.
"It's okay, baby." I trace over his eyebrows, and place a soft kiss to his forehead. "I'm sorry I scared you." He smiles at me, shaking his head, and then takes a hold of my wrists.
"Sit with me? We can watch something better than this." He nods to the TV that's still playing a random documentary, and I laugh, kissing his hair.
"Lemme give you your Christmas present first." I go and fetch his parcel from by the front door. "It's not much, baby, but I hope you understand the meaning." I smile, and set the package into Phil's outstretched hands.
"I don't have your present here... It's in the bedroom, I can go get it." He smiles at me, and I shake my head, wanting him to open this gift more than anything in the World. Phil carefully unwraps it, and stares down at the sweater, a smile on his face. He clearly recognises it, and I can't help the smile from spreading over my lips. It's my old college sweatshirt, one that Phil had told me looked warm, and it is, it's my favourite shirt, and as soon as he'd fingered the fabric, I knew I wanted to see the old faded shirt on Phil's body. It's more than an old shirt I'm giving him, it's something valuable to me, it's something I think should show how valuable he is to me. The look on his face tells me he understands, and the soft kiss he gives me confirms it. He pulls the shirt on, and snuggles up to me, letting me wrap him up in my arms, and I feel completely content. It's silly, but in my shirt, it's like he's truly marked as my Phil.
"Merry Christmas, baby." I tell him softly, and he turns to me with a smile, kissing me again.
"Merry Christmas, my love." His words and his smile are by far the greatest gift I've ever been given.
Thank you to my dear Rebellecherry, and littleone1389for the reviews. :3
Up thirteenth we have Fairytale of New York. This is a weird one, song chosen by Brokenspell77 and the PunkEna mentioned causually by Rebellecherry. Please note, I know this isn't how a split personality, but it's a fanifc, as much as I love realism, a little unreality isn't a bad thing - right?
Not much is set in stone for these fics - so if you'd like to fire me a song and pairing combo in a PM, I'll have a listen and see what I can come up with.
You can't give me an apple for Christmas like my students did (many apples and weirdly some tanghulu which was awesome), but you can give me a review! ;)
MERRY CHRISTMAS!