Disaster
Rating: NC17
Content: m/m slash, angst, intoxication
Characters: John Morrison, mention Miz, CM Punk, Elijah Burke
Summery: John has two ways of dealing with heartbreak: alcohol and sex
Note: References the draft on 4/13/09, where Miz got drafted to RAW and turned on John
Written 4/14/09



John stumbled toward his room. He was drunk, and he had been fucking – what he had been drinking, and who he had been fucking, he wasn’t quite clear on. But it didn’t matter; his man had turned his back on him over a draft pick, and he was desperate to numb the pain.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, but the alcohol-induced haze refused to lift. Looking up, the hall seemed to go on forever before him, and he had no idea where his room actually was.

Hiccupping, he felt his eyes fill with tears. He sat down on the floor, resting his head on his knees as the tears began to spill.

“John?”

He raised his head, blurry eyes barely making out a form kneeling before him. “Wha?” he managed.

“He’s wasted,” said another voice from above him. “Let’s just get him in our room, before anyone else finds him.”

“Yeah.” John felt himself being raised, by a dark haired man who he did feel was familiar. “Come on John, we’ll get you some water and you can lay down.”

The words penetrated his haze as he stumbled into a room. He was helped over to a bed, where he promptly collapsed. He began to sniffle, sighing sadly as tears trickled down his cheeks.

“John.” The dark haired man sat down beside him, encouraging him to sit up. John managed it, leaning heavily against the vaguely familiar man. “John, have a drink of water, ok?” the man coaxed. He managed to get John to take a few swallows. “Are you ok, John?” The words seemed to bounce off him. John didn’t respond, just gazed off into space despondently. “John, it’s Punk, ok? You’re safe here with me.”

John curled against him, holding him tight and pressing his wet cheeks down against Punk’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything, just cried softly.

“He’s a mess,” the other man in the room commented.

“What do you expect, Lij?” Punk sighed deeply. “I can’t believe what Miz did.”

John whimpered at the name, pulling in closer to Punk.

Punk held him tight, rubbing his back soothingly. “S’ok, baby. You’ll be ok. You think you could eat something?”

John didn’t respond, just continued to cling desperately to him.

“Lij, can you get a granola bar from my bag?” Punk requested. There was some rustling, and a moment later John found himself pushed back just slightly, enough to disconnect his face from Punk’s shoulder. “Come on sweety, try and have a few bites,” Punk encouraged, holding a chuck of granola bar up to John’s lips.

John didn’t respond, but he didn’t fight as Punk pushed the morsel between his lips, automatically chewing and swallowing it.

“Good, good,” Punk encouraged, coaxing him into another gulp of water. He got John to take another bite of granola, than another drink of water.

The water was helping to clear John’s head, although he was still far from sober. He pushed away the next offered bite, instead diving in for Punk’s lips. Punk was taken by surprise, which allowed John to push him down onto his back and kiss him for a good moment before Punk squirmed away.

“God, I feel like I could get drunk off your breath,” Punk gasped, unable to escape completely as John’s arms locked around him.

“Don’t you wanna fuck me?” John breathed, taking Punk’s hand and guiding it down to his rock-hard abs. “I want it.”

“John, you’re drunk,” Punk told him calmly, trying to extricate himself from John’s grasp. “You need to sleep it off, ok?” He managed to slip away from John’s weak drunk grasp, standing and striding over to wrap his arm around Elijah’s waist.

“C’mon,” John whined, rolling onto his back and spreading his legs provocatively. “Fuck me.”

“If you offered another time, we might consider it,” Elijah stated, going to the other bed and pulling the covers down. “But never when you’re drunk and upset, baby.” He lifted John in his strong arms, laying him down on the other bed. Punk quickly divested him of his shoes, and Elijah smoothly tucked him beneath the covers. “Relax and go to sleep, ok?” he murmured.

Punk brought over a glass of water, setting in on the nightstand between the beds. They shut off the main light, Punk switching on a small light by the empty bed.

“No,” John groaned softly, his alcohol haze drawing him quickly toward sleep.

Punk shook his head, moving into Elijah’s offered arms. “He’s a disaster,” he murmured quietly.

“What would you expect?” Elijah leaned in to kiss Punk’s neck, his hands sneaking around to caress Punk’s chest. “I’d probably drink myself into a stupor too if you ever ditched me. I love you.” He let his lips trail up Punk’s neck, erotically caressing his lover’s flesh.

“Baby,” Punk groaned, “you know I want you, but John - ”

“He’s asleep,” Elijah whispered, turning Punk around in his arms to steal a real kiss. “It might be a little rude, but I doubt he’ll remember any of this, even if he was awake.” He leaned in, sharing a lingering passionate kiss with his man. “I drove 6 hours just to see you for the night, baby,” he murmured.

It didn’t take much for Punk to give in. He wrapped his arms around Elijah’s neck, kissing him hotly as they backed toward the unoccupied bed. “Oh god I want you,” he whispered, enjoying the sensation of Elijah gently sliding his clothes off. Elijah was naked and on top of him in a heartbeat, and they begin to kiss frantically, once they pulled the covers over their bodies for some privacy.

Punk groaned softly as two slick fingers slid into him. He rocked his hips against Elijah’s scissoring fingers, eager to feel Elijah much deeper inside him.

“Condom?” Elijah whispered in his ear as he drew his fingers back, rubbing a bit of lube on both their cocks.

Punk shook his head. “Not when I’ve only got you once this week.” His arms moved around Elijah’s neck and drew him into a kiss, both of them groaning into the other’s mouth as Elijah slid past that tight ring of muscle, and into Punk’s body.

“Oh yes.” Punk arched back against the pillow, starting to buck his hips in a nice slow rhythm. “Fuck. Uh.” They were very quiet, not wanting to disturb John. Punk was panting softly, rocking against Elijah in a gradually swifter rhythm as he got close to climax. He was just about to reach down and start stroking his cock madly, when he felt the bed dip with an added weight.

His head flew to the side, making out a sleek shape through the darkness. “Fuck. John, go back to bed.” Elijah had stopped his motion as well, although he was still buried deep inside his lover.

“Please,” John begged, his voice slightly less slurred than before. “I wanna fuck.”

“John, you’re hurt and you’re drunk,” Punk told him sharply, desperately wanting to finish with Elijah. “Please, please go back to bed.”

John just shook his head, slipping under the covers. He moved right up to Punk, pulling him into a kiss as he pressed his naked body against Punk’s side. Punk could feel John’s aroused cock against his hip, and after a brief thought about how impressive it was that John could still get hard when he was this drunk, he tried unsuccessfully to move away. Elijah was still inside of him and on top of him, which made moving quite difficult. Before he knew what was happening, John was diving under the covers, his lips closing around Punk’s engorged cock.

“Oh fuck. John, stop it!” Punk bit his lip hard, battling against the desire to come. With Elijah’s thick cock still stretching his tunnel and John’s hot mouth around his erection, it seemed an almost unwinnable war, but he managed to hold out for a moment. Elijah had sprung into action when he realized what was happening; he pulled out of his lover, and forced John back away from Punk, being careful not to injure his lover in the process.

“John, you need to go to bed!” Elijah snapped, standing from the bed and pulling John back over to his own bed, a little rougher than before. “Please, just go to sleep.”

Before John could even object, Punk was grabbing Elijah, hustling him into the bathroom and locking the door behind them. “I need to come fucking now!” Punk exclaimed, turning against the door and spreading his legs. “Fucking stick it in me.”

Elijah obeyed, ramming him into him hard and fast. Punk groaned, jerking his cock quickly. It only took a moment for him to hit it, and he moaned loudly, spilling over his hand. His orgasm spurred Elijah’s, his lover moaning in tandem as he shot inside of Punk.

“Oh god.” Punk closed his eyes, slouching against the door. “That was fucking awesome.” He took a deep breath, moving his hips so Elijah would slide out of him, and turning in his lover’s arms. “I love you, baby. I love you so much.” He leaned in for a deep kiss, the two of them making out for several minutes.

“So.” Punk took a deep breath when they could finally bear to part. “I think a shower is in order?”

“Definitely.” Elijah led his man over to the stall, turning on the hot water as they both stepped in. “So,” he murmured as he pulled Punk against his chest, giving him a little kiss on the lips, “you think it’ll be safe to go out there?”

“Yeah,” Punk murmured, resting his head on his man’s shoulder. “He’ll fall back asleep. Poor guy probably won’t even remember any of this.”

“Probably best,” Elijah murmured, turning his lover into the spray so he could wash him gently.

When they emerged from the shower some time later, John was indeed asleep. They tiptoed to bed, and were soon sound asleep.


The Sequel:
After the Disaster



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