Elijah peered elliptically at his lover. “And you are?” he questioned.
Punk was wearing jeans and a black button down shirt. Around his neck were several necklaces, and his wrists were loaded with bracelets. Every single finger bore a ring. “Can’t you tell?” Punk clinked his rings at Elijah.
Elijah scratched his head, looking over Punk again. “Got no clue, baby,” he confessed.
Punk sighed, hooking the arm of Shannon Moore, who was just arriving at the party. “Shanny, who am I?”
“Colin Farrell,” Shannon replied automatically, giving Punk a smile then continuing into the house.
Elijah crossed his arms over his chest. “You told him that, didn’t you?”
Punk rolled his eyes. “And what is your costume?” he demanded. “Let me guess. You’re the silver tongued pugilist of ECW?” Elijah was dressed in a well cut suit with a tight black t-shirt underneath.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Elijah replied. “I’m Booker T!”
Punk shook his head. “I knew you weren’t gonna make an effort. Well, you know the rule; no costume, no sex!”
“It is a costume!” Elijah insisted. “It’s as good as yours!”
Punk frowned at him, rattling his layers of wrist gear. “I don’t wear these on a normal basis, do I? I had to go out and get all these for this costume!”
Their argument was interrupted when two more guests arrived, both wearing costumes so eye catching that everyone in the room turned to look. “Oh my god!” exclaimed Shannon, who had gone simple and come to the party as a kitty. “Are you guys the guys from ‘White Chicks’?”
Shelton scowled at him. He and Charlie both had long blonde wigs, and were clad in extremely tight miniskirts, tube tops, and strappy heels, Charlie in pink and Shelton in yellow. “Obviously not!” Shelton exclaimed, waving the yellow bag looped over his arm, which had a layer of pink fuzz around the top and the head of a puppy doll sticking out. “We’re Paris and Nicole!”
“So that’s who the father of Nicole’s baby is!” Elijah joked, clapping Shelton on the back. “Good job, sister.”
Shelton rolled his eyes. “I need a drink. Please tell me there’s plenty of rum?”
“I think Matt Hardy claimed it,” Punk replied. “He came as Jack Sparrow.”
“You should see MVP’s version of Will Turner,” Elijah snickered.
“Arrrgh, what be ye sayin’ over me cabin boy?” demanded Matt, strolling up to them, a rope slung over his shoulder which was attached to MVP’s loosely bound hands. He wore a pirate scarf on his head, beads worked into his hair, his body clad in full pirate gear. MVP had on a brown wig and a white poet’s shirt with pirate pants, resembling Will Turner in an odd sort of way.
“You ain’t takin’ me to no brig!” MVP piped in. “I ain’t had enough rum for that yet!”
“Arrrrgh, that can be fixed,” Matt stated, waving a large bottle of rum at him.
“And Jack Sparrow don’t talk like that!” MVP slipped his hands out of the rope and grabbed the rum, taking a swig. “The Jack thing is sexier than straight-up pirate, you gotta do Jack if ya wanna take me to the brig!” He stomped off with the bottle of rum, Matt strutting after him in a good attempt at Jack Sparrow’s walk.
“Wow.” Shelton shook his head. He took Charlie’s hand, leading him towards the makeshift bar. “That’s hot. Come on Nicole.”
“See!” Punk whacked Elijah in the arm. “Some people actually make an effort!”
“Ow!” Elijah pouted at his lover. “Not everyone’s dressed up! Shawn’s hosting the party, and he didn’t even have a costume.”
Punk raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you seen him recently? He was just waiting for Trips to arrive and help him – now he’s got a killer getup!”
“What? As what?” Elijah demanded.
Punk took his hand, leading him through several rooms until they located the party’s host. Elijah almost didn’t recognize him at first, with his black sprayed hair and long dark robe. His eyes were outlined heavily in black, and he looked quite a bit taller than usual. Upon seeing them, Shawn raised his hands, rolling his eyes back in his head. It was the best Undertaker impression Elijah had ever seen.
Elijah stared, shocked by the sight of the usually peppy heartthrob looking so dark. “Are you - enjoying the - party?” Shawn asked in a deep, halting voice.
“Damn, Shawn, I never knew you had it in you.” Elijah shook his head slowly. “You look amazing.”
Shawn merely nodded. Punk gave him a smile, then took Elijah’s hand and led him into the next room. They bumped into John Morrison, who at first glance appeared to be naked. On closer inspection, they saw that he was wearing a tiny strip of tan leather, slung incredibly low on his hips and just big enough to cover his cock and most of his ass. Elijah had to elbow Punk, who was openly staring at the scandalous costume.
“What – what are you supposed to be?” Punk stuttered.
Morrison grinned, flipping his feathered hair. “Raw sex, baby,” he purred, running a hand over his bare thigh. “Wanna taste?” he offered salaciously.
Punk looked at Elijah. Elijah swallowed, his eyes raking over John’s body. He recovered himself enough to elbow his lover again, harder. “Not tonight, John,” he replied quickly, grabbing Punk’s wrist and dragging him away. “He’s probably already been with five guys tonight!” he hissed to Punk. “I can’t believe you’d even - ”
“Don’t be a jealous bitch.” Punk gave Elijah a kiss on the lips. “You can’t expect me to not look at *that*. Damn.” He glanced down Elijah’s body, which was disappointingly covered. “Why couldn’t you come as something sexy? Booker T.” He snorted. “You just grabbed something out of your closet! I might give you some credit if you’d come as King Booker, but you couldn’t even manage that.”
“You know what, fine.” Elijah held up his hands. “I’m just gonna go talk to someone else, ok? And you can sit here grousing and being a bitch.” He marched on into the next room, Punk rolling his eyes after him.
Punk didn’t see Elijah for some time after that, but he had a good time regardless, chatting with various friends and admiring everyone’s costumes. Brian Kendrick and Paul London had some as ballerinas, with matching cream-colored tights and vests, and actual ballet shoes with ribbons wrapped up around their calves. Punk had a good chuckle watching them gracefully twirl and pose. Chuck Palumbo, surprisingly, had some as a sheep. He had a furry coat and ears, with a pretty pink ribbon fastened just over his forehead. He did not look amused, but would occasionally roll his eyes and baa at the urging of his young lover, Kenny. Kenny himself was a sight, with a pretty blonde wig in ringlets, a short and poofy pink dress, and sheppard’s crook. He actually made a rather good Little Bo Peep. Whenever he could convince Chuck to baa, he would giggle, blow his lover a kiss, and wiggle his bottom at the bigger man. Punk found it slightly disturbing, yet hilarious all the same.
There was a bit of an uproar at one point, when John Morrison strode into the largest room in the house, every inch of his sinfully perfect body exposed. Shannon, who happened to be standing next to him as he helped himself to a cup of punch, managed to stammer, “What – what happened to your costume?”
“Oh, I lost it somewhere.” John shrugged casually. “Doesn’t matter. This body’s too smokin’ to cover.”
“Yeah.” Shannon swallowed, unable to stop himself from looking down at John’s groin. “Um. Do you - ”
“I’ve got some time.” John reached out, fondling a lock of Shannon’s hair. “You can suck my cock if you want, but I could go for something more right now. There’s a nice empty closet in the next room.”
Shannon stared at him, then quickly finished off the rest of his drink. “Um. Where’s the closet?” He dropped his empty cup onto the table, flushing a pretty pink as John led him off.
Punk shook his head, taking a sip of his Pepsi. “Sluts,” he murmured affectionately.
“Speaking of sluts,” came an Irish accented voice from behind him. “Where’s that lad of yours, who was dressed in such a sexy, revealing number?”
Punk turned, meeting the amused eyes of Finlay, who had come in a full-sized footie pajama suit and a ridiculous white baby bonnet decorated with little pink flowers. In the place of his usual shillelagh he held a large rattle. “Oh, he’s off sulking somewhere,” Punk replied, having chuckled earlier over the Irishman’s outfit. “I told him his ‘costume’ was lame.”
“He was Batista, right?” Finlay questioned.
Punk shook his head. “Booker T, or so he claims.”
“Ah.” Finlay nodded. “I thought he didn’t look Cro-Magnon enough for the Animal.”
“You,” Batista growled playfully, coming up behind Finlay and wrapping his arms around the stocky man, “had better watch your mouth if you wanna go home with said Animal.” Finlay smirked, setting his hand on Batista’s arm and enjoying the embrace. Batista was scantily clad, although still slightly more dressed than when in his ring gear. He had come as a caveman, with a rough clipped tunic strung over one shoulder, which fell to mid-thigh and revealed his gleaming chest and most of his stomach. He was also carrying a large club, although Punk speculated he would have difficulty dragging Finlay away by the hair. Maybe by the baby bonnet.
“Yo Puuuuunk.”
Punk turned, smiling at Triple H, who had was dressed, as he put it, as a ‘surfer dude’. He was wearing a tank, knee-length shorts, a large silver necklace with a ‘O’ on the end, and of course the mandatory shades. He had also streaked his hair to a sun-bleached blonde, and had a wave board strapped to his back.
“Hey dude,” Punk replied, chuckling as he slapped hands with Hunter in greeting.
“Dude, there was like some guy lookin’ for you,” Hunter told him in painfully bad California gab. “’Bout your size, nice braids. Kinda looks like Booker T.”
“Oh yeah?” Punk crossed his arms over his chest. “And what is his highness up to?”
“D'know, dude,” Hunter replied. “But he said to meet him upstairs, last bedroom on the right.”
Punk raised an eyebrow, but thanked Hunter for the message and went to investigate. He wondered if he’d find Elijah lying naked on the bed. He wouldn’t mind that at all, although he was still annoyed that his lover hadn’t bothered to dress up. He knocked on the door when he reached it, not hearing any sound from within. He turned the handle, peeking into the dark room. “Elijah?”
The room appeared to be deserted. Putting his hands on his hips, Punk opened the door fully, stepping in and looking around. Suddenly, a figure sprung out of a shadow between a chair and the wall, tacking him onto the floor. Punk yelped, recognizing his lover’s firm body as they tumbled onto the carpet. Elijah pinned him down, straddling his hips and grinning down at him.
“You scared me!” Punk exclaimed, not able to free his wrists from where Elijah had them pinned to the carpet, but not making much of a real effort to get free.
Elijah grinned, reaching up onto the bed and picking up a rose with his teeth, dropping it onto Punk’s neck. His chest was bare, and Punk could tell from the contact of their skin that he was also bare from the waist down. Punk licked his lips as his eyes moved over Elijah’s beautiful skin. “Did you change your costume?” he purred, wishing Elijah would lean over him so he could get a taste of that pretty flesh.
“I did.” Elijah leaned down, nuzzling Punk’s neck. “Know what I am?”
“I hope you’re Adam, because I’ve got a hell of a snake to tempt you with,” Punk chuckled. He gasped as Elijah gave him a hard but playful nip.
“I’m not Adam, and you are a dirty bitch,” Elijah murmured, sitting up once more and batting his eyes at Punk. “Hmm?”
Punk strained his eyes in the dim light. “Do you have eyeliner on?”
“Mmmhmm.” Elijah put his hands to either side of Punk’s head, then raised his hips, leading Punk’s gaze downwards with his own. Punk saw that Elijah wasn’t quite naked; he had on John’s strip of leather, which just barely made him decent.
“How did you get that?” he chuckled.
“No changing the subject.” Elijah sat down again, which was having a pretty distracting effect on Punk’s groin. “Who am I, Colin?”
“Um.” Punk thought for a moment, knowing Elijah was now paying him back for earlier. “Hephaistion, lover of Alexander the Great, who I, Colin Farrell, played.”
“Getting warmer.” Elijah rocked his hips, which made Punk groan. Elijah had released his wrists, so he now moved his hands onto Elijah’s thighs, rubbing the smooth flesh. “Look at the outfit, baby,” he hinted.
“Um.” Punk couldn’t quite think when he was looking at the strip of leather, because it was very clear what was barely concealed beneath it.
“I’ll give you another clue.” Elijah sat up, beating his chest and giving a great primal cry of “Ohhh-ohhhhhhh-oohhhhh!”
“Tarzan!” Punk cried.
“Very close.” Elijah caught his wrists again, pinning them to either side of his head and giving him a steamy kiss. Punk wanted to follow his lips and claim more when he pulled away, but Elijah held him firmly. “Think of your first guess,” he murmured.
Punk swallowed, trying to calm his impatience and think. “Um. Hephaistion gets lost in the jungle in India and becomes like Tarzan?” he tried.
Elijah threw his head back and laughed, his million dollar smile flashing in the dark. “So close baby. I’m actually the man behind Hephaistion, Jared Leto, as Tarzan.”
Punk couldn’t help but grin. “That’s good! It’s hot and creative.”
“And can’t you just imagine Colin and Jared fucking on the set of ‘Alexander’?” Elijah purred, pressing kisses along Punk’s jaw. “You know, getting into their characters.”
“I’m all about getting into character,” Punk breathed, bucking his hips and managing to throw Elijah off balance enough to roll on top of him. He kissed Elijah hard, his hands gliding over his lover’s muscular back. Elijah wrapped his arms around Punk’s neck, rolling his hips against his lover. Punk was nearly panting when he drew back, reluctantly, to pull off all his necklaces over his head. Elijah swiftly unbuttoned his shirt while Punk shook his wrists, sending bracelets scattering across the floor. He cast off most of his rings as well, sparing only the one that Elijah had given him for his birthday days earlier, which he rose to set carefully on the dresser. Elijah took advantage of him being on his feet, unzipping his jeans and shoving them down his hips.
“No underwear?” he breathed, licking his lips as he quickly pulled off Punk’s boots and sent his jeans flying across the room.
“I don’t figure Colin wears any,” Punk panted, wrapping his fingers around the back of Elijah’s neck and pulling him up for a kiss. He was still wearing the black button down, although it was now open and exposing his entire front. He fumbled around Elijah’s hips, trying to unhook his lover’s tiny covering. “How does it come off?” he demanded, tearing his lips away to peep down at the strip of leather.
Elijah reached to the side of the miniscule garment, unfastening a hidden clasp and letting the fabric slip to the ground. “Ohhh yeah,” Punk murmured appreciatively, still gazing down. He dropped to his knees, opening his mouth to take in the head of Elijah’s cock. Elijah groaned, stroking Punk’s hair as his lover sucked him. He ran his hands caressingly over Punk’s shoulders, sliding his shirt down off his arms and onto the floor.
The thick heat of Elijah’s cock between his lips was incredibly satisfying. Punk would’ve been happy to keep at it, but Elijah grabbed his hair, gently guiding his mouth back. He pulled Punk to his feet, whirling him down onto the bed. Punk murmured his approval, reaching down to stroke his cock as he was kissed breathless. He welcomed Elijah’s hot body on top of his, groaning into Elijah’s mouth. His hands caressed the defined curves of Elijah’s back, sliding down to grasp Elijah’s ass as they made out.
Elijah drew back, just a centimeter, his tongue licking at Punk’s swollen lips. “You want it?”
“Oh, I want it.” Punk flipped Elijah onto his back, kissing him deeply. He shivered as Elijah’s hands stroked his skin, feeling heat flow through him at every touch. He was busy caressing Elijah’s sides when he felt his lover stretch out an arm, only half noticing until Elijah sought out his hand, pressing a small bottle into his palm. He glanced briefly down, grinning when he saw a bottle of KY. Without breaking off their kisses, he popped the bottle top, squeezing a bit of lube onto his fingers. He shifted just slightly, his hip resting against Elijah’s thigh as his lover slipped his legs open further. He slid one fingers in, his lover’s body arching toward him. Elijah gasped into his mouth, wrapping his arms around Punk’s neck as a second finger entered him, working slowly in and out of him. The third finger came soon after, Elijah’s hips bucking against it. His back arched at the sensation, his mouth finally leaving Punk’s as his head pressed back against the mattress. He took in a deep breath, gathering himself enough to reach up under the pillows and snag a small foil packet.
“Baby,” he gasped, waving the packet at Punk, who was kissing and licking his nipples as he finger fucked him.
Punk grinned, snatching the packet and ripping it open with his teeth. He slid it on quickly, settling between Elijah’s legs. He nudged his lover’s thighs apart a bit further, sinking a hand into Elijah’s hair and kissing him passionately as he entered him. Elijah moaned, his hands sliding down Punk’s back to grasp his ass. He kissed Punk with soft gasps and moans, his hands helping to guide Punk inside of him. His fingers settled onto Punk’s lower back as Punk began to thrust into him., Elijah pulling his knees up and bracing his heels on the bed. He closed his eyes, his face contorting in pleasure as Punk’s cock stroked him inside. They broke off kissing, Punk bracing his hands on the mattress and thrusting faster, his mouth open in bliss as he rocked inside Elijah’s hot, tight body.
The room was quiet during the lovemaking, the air drifting with soft sounds of bedsprings creaking and breathy moans of pleasure. Elijah’s excitement was building, his breath growing more erratic as his pleasure mounted. His hands grasped Punk’s back, his hips rocking to take Punk faster and deeper. “I – ahh - ”
It was all he had to gasp, Punk’s hand snaking between them to grasp his aching cock. He pumped it in sync with the snap of his hips, soon bringing Elijah to a gasping, shivering height to pleasure. Elijah’s nails dug into his back , telling Punk he was right on the brink. Punk stroked him faster, pulling hips back and driving them forward, burying himself to the hilt. Elijah yelled, his body clenching as ecstasy seared through him, bright white bursts firing behind his eyelids. He clung to Punk, rocking his hips desperately to milk the pleasure. Punk rubbed his cock as the spurts tapered off, bending down to deliver a kiss to the wet, swollen head. He braced himself with one hand, the other reaching down to press against Elijah’s ass, pulling his lover’s hips against him as he neared his own climax. Elijah moaned, wrapping his legs around Punk’s waist and rutting against him, gasping at the little bursts of pleasure still trickling through him. Punk thrust into him fast, slamming hard into his ass. He captured Elijah in a kiss, throwing his head back and groaning as he fell over the brink. His body shivered, his nerves singing as he felt every muscle convulse in pleasure. Elijah’s hips rocked against him, drawing his orgasm out. Punk was still feeling little sparks of pleasure as he collapsed onto Elijah’s chest, gasping for breath.
Punk’s racing heart slowly calmed, his head rocking gently up and down with Elijah’s panting. He lay gazing across his lover’s beautifully defined chest, his hand moving to rest lightly on Elijah’s breast. “God I love you,” he gasped, sucking in a mouthful of precious air.
Elijah didn’t seem quite ready to speak, but his hand found Punk’s hair, stroking it gently. He took a few deep breaths, his warm hand stroking over Punk’s cheek. “I love you,” he whispered.
Punk closed his eyes, sighing contentedly. His breath was coming back to him, but his mind still felt hazy from the power of the sex they had shared. “Love you,” he murmured again, pressing his face into Elijah’s chest.
Elijah smiled, patting his back contentedly. He began to wiggle
slightly, causing Punk to shift his head enough to peer up at him
curiously. Elijah caressed his cheek, raising his hips enough to pull
the sheet out from under himself on one side. Punk nodded slightly in
understanding, rising up enough to get the sheet up over them, then
settling back into Elijah’s waiting arms. Elijah kissed his temple,
holding him close. They shared a soft sigh, their pleasure-sated bodies
radiating heat between each other, lulling both men into a sweet,
contented sleep.
THE END