Passion In
Rating: hard R
Content: m/m slash, erotic images
Characters: CM Punk, Elijah Burke, mention Tommy Dreamer
Summery: Punk’s got too many hang ups for his own good, and his desire is driving him crazy
Written 1/30/0



Punk looked up for a second as he was packing his bag. His eyes met Elijah’s, and he swallowed hard. Then he lowered his gaze, quickly shoving the rest of his things in his bag.

He could remember the day they met with crystal clarity. Elijah had just arrived in ECW with Sylvester Terkay, and even across the busy catering room, Punk could feel the heat between them. The attraction was stronger than anything he had ever experienced. He could hardly concentrate on his match that night; all his thoughts were about Elijah, and the desire to get him alone.

Elijah had felt the same, and both lingered in the locker room until all the others had departed. Practically the second they were alone, their hands were all over each other. They kissed frantically, spinning around the locker room crashing into walls, lockers, and eventually the couch. They couldn’t kiss enough, couldn’t touch enough to satisfy the lust that had overtaken them both.

Then, as Elijah’s hand began to slide down his zipper, Punk pulled away from the kiss, putting a finger on Elijah’s swollen lips to prevent another kiss. He was panting, his heart racing and his body tingling with need. But he shook his head, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Elijah. I can’t. We can’t.”

Elijah didn’t move for a moment. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then nodded. He sat up, putting a hand to his heaving chest. “Yeah. Sorry. I just - ” He took another long breath. “You’re just so - it feels so right.” He twisted a wisdom bead between his fingers, looking at Punk with intense, barely restrained need.

Punk swallowed hard. He moved himself out from under Elijah, hurriedly rising to his feet and running a hand through his hair to straighten it. “I gotta go,” he murmured, rushing over to collect his bag.

“Hey, Punk.” Elijah reached out to him from the couch. “Can I - can I take you out sometime? Dinner or something?”

Punk stared at him for a long moment. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea.” He rushed off before Elijah had a chance to respond.

He knew Elijah didn’t understand, but he had his reasons. He was looking for a partner in life; someone to love, someone to be there for him. Someone to care for, and someone to laugh with. And he didn’t believe that passion like he had with Elijah could ever be that. Passion was intense; it was overwhelming, and consuming. It would take you on a roller coaster ride, but it would burn itself out. A long term relationship couldn’t be about sex or lust, because it wouldn’t last, and even if the relationship didn’t die with the passion, they would both know that they didn’t have what they used to. It was a trap, and Punk was determined not to fall into it.

So, for a year, he had avoided Elijah. No matter how badly he wanted the man, he had never let himself be alone with him. Every time Elijah had worked up the courage to ask him out again, he had flat out refused, hoping his rudeness might cool Elijah’s desire for him. But he could tell, from only the brief glances they shared, that Elijah still wanted him desperately. And he had never ceased wanting Elijah more than anything.

Elijah had tried a lot of things to get Punk to change his mind. He had tried wearing different styles of tight, sexy clothing. He had tried walking around the locker room in almost nothing, flaunting his wet, perfect body right after a shower. It had gotten him a lot of attention from the other wrestlers, but all it did was make Punk more desperate to get away. He had tried presents and flowers. He had tried poems, and even mix tapes.

Then, he had tried to make Punk jealous. He had slept with several of the beautiful boys in ECW, flaunting their intimate connections in Punk’s presence. Punk had been jealous, bitterly so, but he hid it, pretending he was relieved that Elijah had turned his attention elsewhere.

Punk had almost given in, once. Elijah had been dating John Morrison, in a highly sexual and very public relationship. Punk had been tired after a match, and had entered a room without paying much attention to his surroundings. Inside, he found Elijah and John fucking on the couch. Elijah was on top of John, his muscular ass clenching as he thrust inside the groaning brunette. Punk had quickly shut the door, but he was so hot and so hard, he was sorely tempted to storm into the room, throw John out the door, and take Elijah for himself. He was on the verge of giving in to temptation and throwing caution to the wind. He had even turned around, setting his hand on the doorknob again.

Then he ran. He ran to his car, drove like a lunatic to get to his hotel, and dived under the covers to hide from the world. It was at that point that he let himself start fantasizing about Elijah. He had to get his lust out, somehow, and it was the only means he would allow himself. He started out simply enough, jerking off while pretending Elijah was sucking him. It was a light fantasy, and he told himself it was harmless enough. But it only satisfied him for so long, and soon he was letting his lusty visions get more and more intense.

It progressed in seemingly innocent little steps; he started spreading his legs while thinking about Elijah sucking him, just to make it more erotic. Then he imagined Elijah fingering him at the same time. He started fingering himself while doing it, and pretty soon he was pretending it was Elijah’s cock, slipping side him to stretch him so deliciously. He tried to quit, but he just couldn’t deny himself this self induced pleasure. Just seeing Elijah made him burn with lust, and he figured he could as least have himself if he couldn’t have Elijah. He had to repeat over and over that lust could not lead to real, long-lasting love, and he could not lower himself into a shallow, purely physical affair.

Yet all the time he told himself this, his fantasies intensified. He even braved the embarrassment of a sex shop to get some accessories, which replaced his fingers in his fantasies of Elijah. He would fuck himself every night with his favorite dildo, moaning Elijah’s name and running his free hand between his nipples and his cock. He felt shameful and dirty in the aftermath, but he just couldn’t stop himself. Every time he tried, he started to go crazy with lust, sex occupying every single thought until he gave in and did the deed.

It had been that way for months, and it was really starting to wear on him. He was crazy with lust for Elijah, and nothing he did could sate that need. It seemed to get more and more intense with every day he denied himself. He didn’t know what to do at this point.

“Hey.”

Punk’s head jerked up. He swallowed, looking up into Elijah’s beautiful brown eyes. “Uh, hi,” he muttered, zipping his bag and preparing to leave.

“So, Tommy told me congratulations,” Elijah drawled.

Punk looked up at him in confusion. “What?”

Elijah knelt beside him, looking up to meet his eyes. “He said congrats on finally banging you.”

Punk’s mouth fell open, then he scowled. “What? Did you tell - ”

“He said he heard us,” Elijah stated. “Said I must’ve been doing a good job, because you were gasping really loud.”

Punk turned beat red. He tilted his head forward so his hair would hide his scarlet cheeks, feeling completely mortified. And at the same time wanting to pounce Elijah and fuck him in front of the entire locker room.

“So…” Elijah sounded amused and hopeful. “How ‘bout dinner, since everyone thinks we’re fucking anyway?”

Punk gazed at Elijah through his hair, wondering why Elijah wasn’t demanding an explanation. He wondered briefly if Elijah might be lying, but one look over at Dreamer and the smirk he wore told him all he needed to know. “I guess,” he muttered. He didn’t want to get involved in a lustful affair, but he also didn’t want the locker room to think he was a slut. “If anyone asks,” he requested in a soft whisper, “can it be our seventh or eighth date?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” Elijah leaned forward to deliver a soft kiss to Punk’s forehead. “Maybe I can make you scream for real tonight,” he whispered in Punk’s ear, giving the lobe a tender kiss before standing and moving back to his bag.

Punk stared ahead of him blankly, hardly able to believe this was actually happening. He had been dreaming of it for so long, and finally he had an excuse to give in. He was almost shaking at just the thought of the fantasy becoming reality. He would have Elijah, tonight. He would finally have him.



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