New Fic
Story Title: Birthday
Story Type: Slash
Characters: CM Punk, Colt Cabana
Pairings: Punk/Colt
Rating: PG-13/NC-17
Series: None
Disclaimer: Isn't it obvious yet that I don't own them? They belong to themselves and WWE. And, for the last thirteen years, to each other.
Warnings: Slash, language
A/N: So, burgandybaby wanted a Punk/Colt drabble in honor of Punk's birthday on the 26th. I know it's super late and I'm sorry, but I couldn't get the muses to concentrate on this until this morning. Hope you like, chica.
For years Punk had never looked forward to his birthday, except as a reminder that he was one year closer to being able to get the hell out of his parents' house.
Once he moved out and started training, he slowly changed his mind. Birthdays still weren't a big deal to him, but he learned to relax and enjoy himself.
And ever since he had met Colt, Punk had always had someone to hang out with on his birthday -even if he told himself he didn't need it.
As he got closer to his thirties, that tension from when he was younger came back; this year it was worse then it had ever been. His father had been thirty-three when he started drinking.
And while Punk had promised himself to never pick up a bottle and turn into him, part of Punk was still worried that would change. It wasn't something he thought about usually, but at 4 am on the morning of his birthday, he couldn't get it out of his head.
It would figure that the first time in thirteen years that Colt missed his birthday, it would be this one. When Colt had realized he was booked at Lucha Vavoom today, he had tried to cancel but Punk had insisted he keep the match.
Punk hadn't wanted to let on how apprehensive he was towards this birthday, but now he was beginning to think he should have let Colt have his way.
He got started out of his musings when he heard the front door opening and closing. Frowning, he got out of bed and looked out his bedroom into the hallway; the list of people who had the keys to his apartment was very short, and neither one of them were even in the state right now.
“Christ, Punk, you're not even laying down?” Colt asked as he made his way down the hall to the bedroom.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Punk snapped, trying to hide to how happy he was to see the other man. “I thought I told you -”
Colt put his hands on Punk's shoulders and gave him a quick kiss before smiling at him. “I didn't cancel, I just decided to come home for a couple hours. Now, shut the fuck up and get into bed.”
Punk rolled his eyes but he laid back down and watched Colt strip down to his boxers before he walked to the other side off the bed. The mattress dipped under Colt's weight as he settled behind Punk. He hooked an arm around Punk's waist and pulled him closer. Punk sighed and relaxed for the first time in days.
“You're nothing like him,” Colt murmured softly, his arm tightening slightly around Punk. “And you never will be.”
Punk sighed again and closed his eyes, able to believe it now that Colt was with him.