A/N: I am alive. :) As always, sorry for the delay (my profile has slight details about why the delay was so long this time around) but I do hope you enjoy this smut chapter.

UnholyVengeance: Yes, he is an ass. As for the Vince comment you made, I don't knowwww we will see. Thank you for your constant reviews, dear. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate them. And also thank you for your hardcore shipping of my boys. I very much enjoy that. That being said, DO NOT HATE ME AGAIN. :x :)

Vindictive John Dark Fantasy: Well, all I can say for your hopes for this fic is that we will have to wait and see. ;) Thank you and 10 million apologies for having disappeared.

takers dark lover: Some of that thought comes up again during this chapter, dear. I'm just trying to get the creative juices flowing again.

On to the story! :)

~.~.~.~

Getting paid for sex on a Sunday; there was a terrible – or amazing, depending on your view – blasphemous joke in there somewhere. It was his first time with this particular client but the male had paid Punk a lot of attention the night of the Gala. Honestly, Punk was surprised the other had not approached him sooner; most of the other ones who showed interest that night already had.

He wasn't sure why he could only do the appointment on this particular day with the male but there was something awkward about asking so Punk would keep his curiosity to himself. The Chicagoan had chosen to wear one of his new silk shirts – another JoMo contribution to his style – that was a more warm purple color to go with the changing of the seasons. He had the cuffs buttoned up and folded just once because Punk felt the need to add his own style to the look. Fergal had requested that the Chicagoan come dressed up to this date even though they were meeting in his hotel room.

Once he arrived to Fergal's room, Punk felt the nerves return. He had a feeling it would be this way with his new clients for quite some time. Teeth worried his lip ring as he knocked quietly. Punk was pleasantly surprised when the Irishman opened the door relatively quickly. He smiled at him, "Well hello again." His voice was firm and confident despite the jumble of emotions the Chicagoan was feeling at this moment. He was left standing there for some time, Fergal watching him almost cautiously before the Irishman stepped aside and nodded for Punk to enter the room.

"You look good."

Punk blinked at the Irishman but nodded despite the fact that he was completely thrown off by that. "Thank you. You're lookin' sharp yourself." And he was, Fergal was dressed in a similar outfit to what he wore on the night of the gala but he seemed much more comfortable in the attire than Punk was.

"I try." He grinned, gaze slowly raking over the blond's body until he made eye-contact with the tattooed male. Fergal sized punk up for a second before letting out a slow breath, "How do you want me?"

Punk was surprised by that question but it only set his typically arrogant demeanor back for a few moments. This whole guys paying him to be aggressive and rough in bed thing was something he was quickly getting used to though they were rarely ever as direct as Fergal. He grinned at the slightly smaller male and made a gesture for him to turn around. Fergal complied without the slightest glimpse of hesitation. The blond reached over, hand stroking down Fergal's back for a brief moment before he patted the other's firm ass. Punk didn't miss the slight twitch in the other's body, chuckling quietly as he pulled away. "Take your clothes off." And Punk watched as Fergal slowly began removing his clothes, a small sigh left his lips as he growled out "Faster." The change in the Irishman's movements was almost instant: Fergal went from confident movements to quick, almost nervous jerks as he rid himself of all his clothing.

When he was finally naked, cool air hitting his bare ass, Fergal dared to cast a look at Punk for which he was reprimanded instantaneously. The harsh pull of his hair, forcing him to face the wall again caused a small hiss to leave his pink lips. "Sorry, Punk."

Punk grinned as his hand slid from the male's hair to his square jaw. Thumb caressed the other's jaw before he quietly corrected Fergal, "Sir." The blond's smirk grew wider as he felt Fergal's body quiver under him.

"Yes, Sir."

He nodded, patting Fergal's shoulder's lightly before he reached down and squeezed the Irishman's ass. A small hum left his lips as he slid his fingers between the closed cheeks. Phil looked down, loving the sight of the pink pucker that appeared to have been perfectly groomed for this occasion. The Chicagoan tapped the eager hole, watching it twitch for a second before he added pressure to Fergal's shoulders, forcing the Irishman down to his knees while still not allowing him to look his way. Punk heard a light whine-like noise leave the other's lips and he slowly ran his hands through the short locks in a reassuring motion before he finally stepped in the other male's line of sight.

Fergal's jaw was clenched as he held his gaze forward, eyes leveled with Punk's crotch. His mouth started to water before Punk so much made a move. Before he knew it, his face was pressed against the other's smooth slacks. Fergal inhaled slowly, another noise of pleasure leaving his mouth as he desperately opened his lips. The intoxicating smell filled his nostrils, making his already hard cock throb for attention. He sniffed again, groaning quietly as his wet tongue eagerly slid over the fabric of Punk's slacks; Fergal could feel Punk's cock swelling and it only hastened his actions.

Punk looked down at the handsome Irishman, smirking as he tightened his grip on the other's hair and pushed him against his hardening cock more forcefully than before. The Chicagoan wasn't happy until he'd converted Fergal into a dripping, slobbery mess. The front of his slacks had been fully soaked through with Fergal's desperate attempts to get a real taste of Punk's cock, Fergal's cheeks flushed and damp with his own saliva. Punk grabbed hold of Fergal's jaw, pulling him away as he simultaneously reached down and groped the other's leaking cock. "You like being used?" Olive-colored eyes stared down at Fergal, glinting mischievously when he didn't get a response from the other. Hand squeezed the other's swollen length, pressing a few drops of precum out and jerking Fergal a few times afterwards. "Answer me."

"Yes… Yes, Sir. I like bein' used."

He grinned, releasing the other's cock after a moment and licking the precum off his fingers. Punk smiled at the other, "I can tell. You like being my little toy, don't you?" This time, Punk only allowed time for Fergal to rush out a response before he crashed their lips together, devouring the other's mouth all while making Fergal taste himself in Punk's mouth. His tattooed hand hurriedly pulled his thickness out of his slacks, jerking himself a few times before releasing himself and reaching behind Fergal yet again.

The Irishman whined into Punk's mouth as he felt the slightly damp digits trace his puckered hole yet again. "S-Sir, I.. f-fuck y'r lil slut, please." The words were breathed against Punk's pierced lips before he could talk himself out of it. But whatever reaction he was afraid of getting was forgotten the second Punk's teeth dug into his lip and he asserted dominance in the kiss all over again. Fergal could feel his swollen cock bouncing against his hot skin, leaving a trail of precum every time the hot flesh came in contact with his abs. He gasped as he felt thick digits probe at his pink hole, stretching him out without much lube. "Mmm.."

Every time Punk's fingers pushed in deeper or changed angles, he elicited moans and curses from Fergal with the accent prominent in every syllable. Punk pushed his digit inside the smaller male's hole one more time before finally giving in and breaking the kiss. The Chicagoan looked down at Fergal and held the male's jaw, forcing him to keep his mouth open as he spat in the other's mouth. Punk quickly shoved his dick inside the Irishman's eager mouth, groaning at the delicious sounds they were making. He fucked Fergal's mouth, fingers teasing the other's hole at this point. Punk used some of Fergal's spit to lube up his digits before going back in, stretching the other none too gently.

His eyes were watering from the abuse his throat and hole were receiving but it was a much welcomed loss of control. Fergal, after all, knew Punk would be able to supply him with the roughness and satisfaction he craved. A small grunt left his lips as Punk pulled his sloppy cock out from Fergal's mouth. He licked his reddened lips and panted softly, looking up at the still fully dressed male and feeling his cock twitch. "Bend over, hold your ass open for me." Fergal's skin prickled at the order and he got on all fours next to the little loveseat in the room, using it to hold himself upright as he reached back and spread his cheeks open to give Punk a perfect view of his pink, waxed hole.

Punk smirked and spit on the hole a few times as he managed to get a condom on his painfully hard cock. One hand gripped Fergal's hip as he seated himself fully in the tight heat while the other reached down to jerk the male's dripping cock. The sound of utter pleasure he got out of the male made Punk groan loudly as he thrust a few times. "H-harder, Sir." Punk chuckled quietly though he complied, hand moving to hold the male's shoulder instead as he pulled the Irishman back onto his cock with every thrust. His biceps were twitching from the strength of the pulls, thighs strained as he fucked into his client's hole with an aggression he didn't get to use too often.

Fergal screamed out in ecstasy as Punk squeezed his leaking cock yet again and managed to hit his spot in the same movement. He panted, finding it increasingly hard to hold back his orgasm as his sweaty body slid against the soft cushion of the loveseat. "AH!" Fergal suddenly found himself with his shoulders pressed against the ground with only a small cushion shielding him from the hotel carpet. The new position allowed for deeper strokes, his ass clenching around Punk's thick cock with every motion. He was shaking before long, holding back out of sheer willpower.

He panted, changing his position so he was hovering over the other male, using his full weight to slam down into Fergal's heat with every stroke. Punk was sweating under his clothes but he couldn't bring himself to care. He couldn't exactly get to Fergal's cock with the way they were positioned seeing as he was using both hands to keep himself over the other's body. Punk thrust inside again and rasped out, "That's it, touch yourself for me. Cum for me."

The Irishman moaned out loudly, doing as told and quickening his strokes on his cock until he shivered from pleasure and he came all over the hotel carpet and his abs. He panted out, still pushing back against Punk with fervor. The thrusts got stronger, Punk not holding back despite the fact that Fergal was now a shivering, whining mess under the tattooed blond. Still, he couldn't deny he enjoyed the rough treatment. Fergal moaned, enduring the assault his body was getting and eventually hardening enough to know this male would get another load out of him. He cursed, pushing back desperately as Punk abused his spot. Fergal couldn't move, his muscles too tired out from the previous orgasm.

Punk felt the other tense again and grinned as he pulled out of the Irishman's heat and bent over the male, one hand finding the male's throbbing cock as the other peeled the condom off his own length. He stroked both of them in sync, groaning as he released across the other male's toned back. Punk grunted as he felt Fergal's cock twitch in his fist, knowing he'd gotten a much smaller, second load out of the Irishman. He smirked, licking the few drops from his digits and panting as he stood upright. Tattooed fingers slid through his damp, blond locks as Punk pushed them out of his face.

Fergal was still panting erratically, body quivering and now in a heap on the floor. He strained for minutes to control his breathing, arms slowly sliding under his torso so he could begin to make a move to get off the floor. He chuckled after a few minutes of semi-calm breathing, "Fuck." Fergal heard the laugh Punk gave and grinned to himself as he closed his eyes. He was too exhausted to get up and he really didn't care to even try it. He felt Punk shift behind him and just grunted when he heard the receding footsteps. Body slumped forward as he became resigned to just stay on the floor for a few more minutes.

Punk had gone to splash water on his face and clean up a little bit in the bathroom. Upon his return to the hotel room he noticed Fergal still in the same position and smirked as he tied up his hair into a very messy bun. "Need help?" There was amusement in his voice but the offer was genuine. Punk barely made out the nod Fergal gave and grabbed the other male's waist, helping him upright then smirking as he squatted next to the Irishman. "Better?"

"Nah. I'm jus' going to sleep like this."

He grinned, "So you need help to the bed or are you planning on sleeping on the carpet?"

"Bed."

Punk sighed as he helped his client onto his own feet and eventually got him onto the bed. He helped Fergal clean up just enough so he wouldn't have trouble with it whenever he showered and then Fergal curled against the covers and Punk nodded. His job had been completed. He put his belt back on, as that was the only article he shed during this entire ordeal, then made his way out of the room.

Just as Punk approached his car, his phone buzzed with the notification set for his work e-mail. He glanced at the screen, smirk spreading on his face as he saw the appointments light up his calendar followed by another notification for his finances. Punk clicked the tab as he closed the car door behind him, eyes widening when he saw the generous tip already posted to his account. Fergal had doubled Punk's income for the night. He chuckled and immediately sent a message to his unofficial partner.

[ Text ] Now I know what you meant about the "sweet bonuses" that come from doing a good job.

He drove off, eager to get home so he could take a proper shower and unwind for the rest of the evening.

…

Randy watched John pace across the room for maybe the 10th time before he sighed and slid out of bed, walking over to the blond and wrapping his arms around him. "Hey.. what's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

John bit his lip, leaning back against the younger male and letting out a content sigh. "-Vince was supposed to have called me by now to get my answer."

"Do you know what you're wanting to do yet?"

John whined, "-no." He turned so he was facing Randy and looked in the taller male's eyes. "What do you want?"

He shook his head, "This isn't my choice. This has been bothering you for so long. Now you have an.. almost certain way out of the worst of it but you might end up having to stay in the field and I know how that has been for you these past few years."

A quiet sigh left his lips before he pressed his face against Randy's chest. "I'm not worried about staying in the field, Ran. Plus, it would be different. I would be behind the scenes now."

"Are you.. you haven't managed a business before, baby. At least not entirely on your own and, besides, Vince sounds like the kind of person that gets things done 'off record' and possibly has a lot of enemies. I'm worried about that part, John."

He buried his face deeper against Randy's chest, refusing to move as he let out a deep sigh this time. "I know. I'm scared about that as well."

Randy said nothing more, knowing that John had a lot to think about but also knowing that his love interest had to make whatever decision he ended up making on his own. The last thing the Missouri-native wanted was John to begin feeling as if Randy was taking up his power too.

John hummed and lightly patted Randy's back after a few more minutes of standing there hiding against his lover's chest. "All I can do is wait, right? Wait for Vince to contact me again. In the meantime I will work and spend as much time with you as we can."

He grinned and placed a chaste kiss on John's forehead, "That's right, baby boy."

~.~.~.~

"I don't know why you insist on seeing me so early in the morning." He let out a quiet huff. "It's like you want to see me slip or something."

Punk rolled his eyes as he approached the brunette who somehow ended up showing up to his place looking like a model despite the fact that Punk had hardly given him a notice this time. He guessed some people just rolled out of bed looking stellar. "Now why would I do that?"

Morrison shrugged, " 'cause you wanna see if ya really like what I look like?" he was teasing, clearly but it was still nice to see the scandalized look on Punk's face. "—kidding, kidding!"

Punk managed another eye roll and ended up moving over to the couch where Morrison was seated with a mug of coffee and a slight smirk on his stupidly beautiful face. "I'm certain I already like what I see, Pretty Boy. You don't have to try to glam yourself up for me."

A slight flush began spreading on his cheeks, "Oh you sure know how to compliment a guy."

He shrugged and took a sip of his own mug before setting it down and turning to look at Morrison. "Nah. Not just any guy." It'd been 14 days since their last hang out session at Punk's house. During that time they had spoken over the phone and sent texts as well as met up randomly for a meal/coffee in between visits where they continued to tease and talk about life and talk about their goals. However, this was the first time since Morrison stopped their make out session that they had been able to set some time apart for another real date. Punk lifted a hand and tucked some of Morrison's hair behind his ear, "You're one of the best people I've met. And - … you definitely deserve to be reminded of how amazing you are."

The flush deepened and Morrison had to look down to his mug of coffee. Yes, he was great and confident when they were just teasing and talking about sex but this felt much more personal, much more like Punk wanted him in more than just a sexual way. "Well thank you, Punky." It was just barely a whisper before John looked up to Punk's deep eyes, "I will say that I enjoy hearing that stuff from you. But my favorite part is knowing that you're actually saying what's on your mind." A small pause as he felt Punk's hand drop from his face, Morrison was already missing the heat. "But - can I be honest too?"

Punk's smile faltered at the last question, his stomach churning violently. Still, the Chicagoan nodded at the brunette, "Please."

"I don't want to fuck." He rushed out the words before he lost the resolve, holding the other male's gaze. "At least, I don't want to just fuck. I want to.." Morrison hesitated, face flushing even deeper as he tucked the same strand of hair behind his ear yet again. "...I like you, Punk. A lot." Time seemed to crawl by, Morrison waiting for an answer for a while before realizing that Punk was waiting for him to finish his thought. He sucked in a breath and moved to put his own mug down next to Punk's. "I want to be your partner and I want you to be mine." Morrison bit his lip, "-and I know you just went through that break up not too long ago so you're probably not ready for it or not wanting anything serious but.. I can wait at least until you know whether or not it will be something you'd even be interested in trying. Or if you already know that I -"

Silence. Punk had cupped the back of John's head and pulled the beautiful brunette's face close to him, effectively silencing the man but not pressing their lips together just yet. Olive hues searched the other male's deep brown orbs, "I'd love to be your boyfriend, Pretty Boy. -if that was your way of asking." A pause as a small smirk tugged on his lips as well. "But that means you would be my Pretty Boy."

He let out a small breath, smile spreading wide on his full lips as he nodded at the blond. "I'd be proud to be yours." His cheeks were pink now, smile on his face as his eyes shone with excitement and affection for this big-hearted man that had come into his life a few months ago and completely taken his breath away. "So it's settled. We're a couple." John almost giggled at that comment before nodding and looking at his partner. "Yes. And just so you know, that means you now have to fulfill boyfriend responsibilities on top of friend responsibilities." He grinned mischievously before crawling onto the blond's lap and wrapping his arms around the other male's strong torso. Morrison curled against Punk, his head resting on the male's shoulder as he let out a happy sigh. "Unlimited cuddles." he almost purred, tilting his head upward and placing a kiss on the blond's jaw.

Punk scoffed at the comment but soon found himself relaxing and completely melting under Morrison's touches as the brunette crawled onto his lap. He smiled down at the other, loving the feeling of Morrison's lips on his jaw and the male's arms wrapped around him as if he refused to ever let go. Punk shifted as John started moving away from his jaw, cupping the brunette's chin and bringing him back up for a kiss.

The kiss was deep but gentle, both of them content to just get to learn each other's lips all over again. No, it wasn't the first time they'd kissed but it sure as hell was the best kiss in his mind. He could almost feel just how strongly Punk felt for him in that one kiss. Morrison whined after a few seconds of the kiss, shifting so he was now straddling Punk's lap. He hovered over the other male now, deepening the kiss as soon as he was given the opportunity. Punk's hands were on John's waist, holding him in place as they continued to kiss each other senseless. Yes, the brunette could get used to this.

That small whine made Punk grin against those full lips, hands carefully travelling down to Morrison's supple ass. The gasp he heard the other male give was enough to make him squeeze the firm muscle as he teasingly lapped his tongue along the brunette's kiss-swollen lips. Punk gave a pleased hum as soon as he felt Morrison's hips start to roll down against his hardening member. He slowly eased his hands back up the brunette's body, tattooed hands moving up under the toned male's shirt so he could touch bare skin.

A loud whine left him that time; Morrison shifted to take his shirt off, suddenly very aware that this was the first time he had been shirtless in front of Punk. He looked at Punk and smiled softly just before letting out a rather embarrassing groan of pleasure when Punk swiped his studded tongue over Morrison's hardened nipple. "Punky.." Hands tugged at Punk's shirt, almost tearing the material off Punk's body when the tattooed escort refused to lift his hands from John's skin.

Punk chuckled, finally lifting his hands and allowing John to lift the shirt off. That laugh was cut off when he felt the brunette's lips against his nipples, the veteran escort greedily sucking and teasing the Chicagoan's sensitive nubs. Gods, this man was going to be the death of him.

Their hips were rolling together now, Morrison's pink lips latched onto the blond's pierced nipple as he let out a quiet whimper when he felt Punk's skilled hands kneading his perfectly toned ass. The brunette panted against the other male's chest as he pushed back towards Punk's greedy hands. "Room?" it was a combination of a whine and a whisper, Morrison feeling almost embarrassed at how wound up he was right now just from kissing and groping his partner.

He let out an annoyed grunt at the almost begging question but he nodded, standing up effortlessly and carrying the sculpted male he was lucky enough to call his boyfriend towards the bedroom.

A/N: I am not sure if my old readers are still going to be following this but any reviews/comments/concerns would be very appreciated. :)