“Maintaining the 6-pack?” he murmured.
“Going on 8,” Elijah replied.
“Mmm.” Punk yawned, closing his eyes briefly. He opened them swiftly when he remembered their guest, his eyes moving over to the room’s second bed. John was still sleeping, his back turned to Punk.
“He looks fine,” Elijah stated softly. “I put some water and Gatorade out for him.”
“Should we wake him?” Punk wondered.
John groaned, pulling the blanket over his head. “I’m awake,” he muttered bitterly. “What the fuck happened last night?” He remembered vague bits, but from what he remembered, he thought he was better off not knowing exactly what he had done. He did remember what Miz had done to him, and that alone made him want to forget the entire day.
“Uh.” Punk exchanged a look with Elijah. “You got a bit drunk. Luckily Lij and I found you.”
“Huh.” John grabbed his pillow, holding it over his face and groaning into it. “I was a fucking whore, wasn’t I?”
“Uh - ” Punk hesitated.
“I can tell I was,” John grumbled. “I can *tell* in certain areas. So did we, or was it someone else?”
“I guess it must have been before we found you,” Punk confessed.
“Great.” John groaned, shaking his head. “God, I hope I didn’t screw some fat ugly pig!” He peeked out from under the pillow, only one eye visible. “But I - I’m pretty sure I hit on you guys, didn’t I?”
“You may have tried to inject yourself into our bed,” Elijah answered frankly, grunting as he continued his crunches.
“But we would never take advantage of you when you’re drunk,” Punk quickly added.
John groaned, hiding under the pillow again. “You coulda fucked me,” he grumbled. “Woulda been fucking fine with me.” He pushed the cover down a bit more, a thoughtful look overtaking his face. “You know, I’m not drunk now,” he murmured, his voice coming out as a slight purr. “A bit hung over, but I think some good endorphins could really help with that.” He stretched deliberately, revealing his perfect chest and 10-pack. “Hmm?” he drawled.
Elijah, who was still crunching, was shaking his head. “It’s tempting, John. Believe me, it’s tempting!”
“So come on,” John demanded, kicking off the rest of the cover to reveal his glorious naked body.
Punk swallowed hard, unable to stop himself from looking. “Uh. We. John, you’re still really hurting, it wouldn’t be right.”
“Stop being such a fucking good guy,” John snapped. “Come on and fuck me, both of you!” He scowled when neither Punk nor Elijah moved toward him. “What?” He slapped the mattress in temper. “I look like this, and I’m still not fucking good enough?” He huffed, grabbing the covers and yanking them up over his head.
“John.” Punk glanced at Elijah, then stood, going over to set a hand on John’s shoulder. “Why don’t you have a hot shower and let us buy you breakfast?”
“No,” John snapped from beneath the cover. “Go away. I’m just gonna lie here and die.”
Punk shook his head, going to kneel on the floor beside Elijah. “He doesn’t handle rejection well, does he?” he whispered to his lover.
Elijah finished his last crunch, leaning back on the floor for a moment to recover. “Poor guy,” he murmured. “I wish we could make it better.” He shook his head as they heard soft sniffles coming from beneath the blanket. “You want me to take this one?” he whispered.
“Could you?” Punk looked lost. “I suck at stuff like this.”
Elijah clicked his tongue in disagreement, but didn’t argue. He gave his baby a quick kiss, then strode over to the bed, sitting down beside John’s buried form. “John,” he said softly, lifting the covers off John and folding them down to his waist.
John tried to glare at him, but he was crying too hard. “A year and a half,” he sobbed, shaking his head. “I wasted a year and a half, and a thousand hot fucks with this smokin’ body, and he fucking does this to me!”
Elijah pulled John up into his arms, hugging the crying man against his chest. “You’re an amazing guy,” he assured John. “Whatever happens, you know Punk and I are here for you. You’re always welcome with us.”
John’s chest was heaving, his tight pecs rubbing against Elijah’s bicep. “I’m not even,” he choked, shaking his head. “You don’t even fucking want me.” He sobbed, his breathing labored as he cried into Elijah’s shoulder.
Elijah rubbed his back, trying to provide him some comfort. John was just as brokenhearted this morning as he had been the previous night, and unfortunately, there was little that could be said to fix that.
“You know what.” John pushed back from him unexpectedly, wiping at his eyes. “I need my bag. It’s in the fucking room, with him.” He took a deep breath. “I’m just gonna go get it. I think I still have some Vodka in my bag. Fucking liquor stores aren’t open yet.” He stood, rapidly reclaiming his clothes from where he had thrown them off the previous night.
“John.” Elijah was surprised by John’s sudden turn. He stood, setting a hand on John’s arm. “You want us to come with you?” he offered.
“No.” John wiped at his eyes again, squinting into the mirror on the wall as he headed toward the door. “I’m sober now, I can find my way back.” He stormed out the door, leaving Punk and Elijah staring after him.
“Fuck, is he ok?” Punk wondered.
“I have no idea what’s going on in his head.” Elijah pulled Punk to him, sighing deeply. “We’ll call him in 20 minutes if he’s not back.” He closed his eyes, just holding Punk against him. “Is it just me, or does seeing them break up scare the shit out of you?” he whispered. “It’s just - Punk and Lij, Miz and Morrison, you know?”
“Yeah.” Punk held his lover back, not about to let go. “Maybe Miz’ll come to his senses,” he murmured hopefully.
Miz was sitting on a bed, facing the door. He rose to his feet the second John entered. “Baby,” he breathed.
John glared at him, scanning the room to locate his bag. “I’m just here for my stuff,” he snapped, going right over to his bag and shoving in a few loose item.
“Please.” Miz rushed to his side. “I’ve been up all night. I tried to call - ”
“I blocked your fucking number!” John yelled.
“I’m an idiot. I - I thought, we can’t do it, we’ll be apart, we’ll never see each other. Fresh starts and all that shit. I can’t live without you John, please don’t go,” Miz blurted out in one breath, his hands shaking as he reached for John.
John stopped. He dropped his bag, looking floored. “You - what?” he gasped.
“I was - I was temporarily insane.” Miz dropped to his knees before John, clasping the stunned man’s hands. “Please, please baby forgive me. Please don’t leave me. I want you with all my heart. Please, I’ll do anything, just don’t go.”
John stared at him, swallowing hard. “You still want me?” he breathed.
“Yes,” Miz affirmed. “We - we might be on different rosters now, but we can make that work! Look at Punk and Lij. And we - we can move in together, so we’ll see each other at home.”
John couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For almost a year, they had been practically living out of each other’s apartments, but Miz had resisted any further commitment. They had never even talked about officially living together. “Really?” he whispered, having to sit down on the bed to comprehend this sudden change.
“Last night scared the shit out of me,” Miz told him, gazing up at him pleadingly and squeezing his hands. “I thought yesterday that I *could* end this - but I can’t. Please don’t tell me you can.”
“No. I - ” John lowered his gaze, feeling confused, relieved, and ashamed all at the same thing. “I got totally fucking wasted last night,” he confessed. “I think I fucked some guys - I don’t remember.”
“I don’t care.”
Hearing this shocked him. Throughout their relationship, Miz had been insanely jealous if another man had so much as looked at him - which they did, constantly. “You don’t?” he breathed.
“Baby, if - even if you wanted to keep fucking other guys as a condition of taking me back, I’d let you,” Miz stated vehemently. “I’m such an idiot, baby. I’m such a moron.” He brought John’s hands to his lips, kissing the backs. “Please, please baby, give me another chance?” His pleading eyes rose to meet John’s.
John took a deep breath, feeling tears well in his eyes. “It destroyed me when you dissed me on RAW,” he choked. “I - I’ve been a fucking wreck since. I don’t ever wanna be without you.” He could almost see Miz’s heart rise into his eyes, and before he knew it, he was being embraced, whirled around in an ecstatic hug.
“Baby, baby, baby!” Miz clung to him, laughing and on the verge of crying at the same time. “So you still love me?” he breathed, when he finally put John back down on the floor.
“Are you kidding?” John smiled, reaching up to finger Miz’s hardened mohawk, which his love had clearly been too distraught to wash out the previous day. “I’m head over heels for you, you idiot. I’d curl up in a ball and drink myself into a stupor if I didn’t have you.”
“Oh, baby.” Miz hugged him again, then drew back to look in his eyes. “I love you,” he professed. “I love you with all my heart. Nothing could make me realize how much like making the dumbest fucking move of my life and trying to dump you.”
“Thank god you came to your senses.” John tried to phrase it as a joke, but his voice wavered. “I love you,” he whispered. He leaned in, sharing a kiss that sent waves of relief washing over his tense and strained body. “You just better never fucking do something like this again,” he choked, laughing softly as a few tears slipped from his eyes.
“Never. Never, ever, ever.” Miz hugged John against him tightly.
They stood, just holding each other, for some time. John reflected that the past 24 hours had been the worst of his life, worse than any other heartbreak or let down that he had ever experienced. But this time, he had been granted a reprieve; things weren’t broken after all, and regardless of which shows they ended up on, Miz would be with him.
John Morrison Fic
Punk & Elijah Fic