Out in the Cold
A/N: So I got this prompt out of imagineyuorotp.tumblr.com. 'Cause I was bored. Prompt: Imagine your OTP out in the cold, huddling together for warmth. Person A suggests stripping to share body heat. Person B smacks them over the head for being perverted.
Out of all the people he could have been stuck in the middle of nowhere with, it had to be the guy that annoyed him the most. It had to be the guy who made the cheesy, silly jokes all through out the ride, just to try and make him smile. And quite frankly, it just annoyed him more. Seriously. Why did it have to be the guy who played stupid rap songs for twelve straight hours, and worse, rapped along with the music? It made him want to slam his head against the windshield. Why did he agree to come along with this guy?
Of all people, why did it have to be John Cena?
Punk let out another shaky breath, gloved hands stuffed in his armpits, teeth chattering just quite a bit. How did this all happen again? Oh. Right. Because it was Mr. Goodie Two Shoe’s fault that they missed their flight. Simple request. Just a simple request. Why couldn’t have John done it? It wasn’t too hard to wake him up from a small nap. Just a few minutes of shut-eye from another sleepless night. And thinking that he could trust the boy scout, he pulled his Cubs cap low to his eyes, hugged his own arms to himself as he tried to catch some sleep on the plastic seats of the waiting area of the airport. The large man, who had his earphones stuck in his ear, quietly sat just by his side, hands fiddling with his phone, perhaps sending a tweet or whatever this guy normally did with his phone. But that actually secured Punk and he closed his eyes once more, taking a deep breath as he quickly fell down to his slumber.
Next thing he knew, it was an hour later, their plane already left and they were going to be a day late to their house show. Why? Because John fell asleep right after he did, only to be woken up 45 minutes later by a flight attendant, saying that they missed their flight.
Now there he was. CM Punk. WWE Champion. Stuck in a car, parked in the middle of nowhere, freezing to death with John Cena. Out of all the people in the world.
“C-Can’t you just… turn on the heat or s-something..?”
John, who was hugging himself as well, turned his head to him, blue eyes a bit paler than before. Looked like he wasn’t dealing with the cold just as well as he expected him to.
“W-We’re out of gas…” He could hear him trying to keep his voice steady. “G-Gotta wait t-till…morning or something…”
Punk groaned at that answer, rolling his head in exasperation. Why did this have to happen to him? He missed his bus. He missed his bed. He missed traveling alone and without having to see John Cena sitting in the cold right beside him. Because quite honestly, he felt bad. Hey. He and John might not be the best of friends, but at least they respected each other. Despite. You know. The feud they were going through.
Running a hand through his short hair, he glanced over at John again, voice shaking as he spoke. “S-Still okay there, Johnboy?”
The man snorted. “Psshh. Yeah.”
“Bullshit.”
And he would never find the reason why he did this, but he moved over the center console, climbing on the driver’s seat where John was sitting. Okay, wrong. He was climbing on top of John’s lap, shaking arms wrapping around the man’s muscular frame, his face hidden in the larger man’s neck, inevitably inhaling his scent with every deep breath he took. John’s body was cold at first and it made him think that this was a mistake. But then his body slowly felt warmer. Not that warm to relieve them from the cold, but warm enough to make him at least feel comfortable. Hey. This wasn’t that bad at all.
But then he realized. He was cuddling John Cena.
“P-Punk…” Aaaand here came the question. “What are you doing?”
Just then he felt the heat rise up to his cheeks and he was relieved that he had his face hidden in the man’s neck. If the other guy saw him blushing because of this, he would rip someone’s head off. And yes, preferably Cena’s.
“Body heat.” The way he said it was casual, but he didn’t know why he felt like it was something more. Nope. Not now, CM Punk. Don’t overthink things.
Somehow his reply served to be a good enough for he felt arms wrapping around his lean body, keeping him close against the older man’s hard frame, cold cheek resting on the side of his head, securing him from the cold. Another blush crept up to his face upon the realization that John was hugging him back, but he didn’t let it get to him. Instead he snuggled closer to the man, both of them still shivering but mostly feeling a bit better than how they were feeling a few minutes ago. John rubbed his back soothingly, friction adding more heat, also the soft gesture almost lulling Punk to sleep. Wow. John actually makes a good pillow.
“Still breathing, kid?”
“Can’t you feel my fucking cold breath on your neck, boy scout?”
John chuckled at that, merely squeezing the man in his arms, still rubbing his back gently. If he only knew John could calm him like this, maybe he should invite him more often in his bus. You know. Just to put him to sleep. Just sleep. Yeah.
“You know,” the man spoke again, shifting a bit so he could properly snuggle him, which made Punk sigh in comfort despite himself. “Maybe we should strip off. You know. Add more body heat. Maybe so we can survive the night?”
Punk’s heart lurched inside his ribs at that, adding more heat into his already flushed cheeks. His body flush against John’s warm skin, pulling even closer to feel more of the warmth the other was emitting--Punk, stop thinking! And to distract himself, he lifted a hand to the man’s head, thumping it a bit too harshly, face still hidden in his neck.
“Stop being such a perv and try getting some sleep.”
Yeah. You can say that again, Punk.
Another chuckle escaped the man’s lips, merely pulling him as close as he could, with the younger cuddling him more. It didn’t take more before he was drifting off to sleep, John’s body warm against his, the man’s arms around his own frame, the elder’s lips pressed gently against his scalp as he drifted off to sleep with him.
Out of all the people he could have been stuck in the middle of nowhere with, it had to be the guy that annoyed him the most. It had to be the guy who made the cheesy, silly jokes all through out the ride, just to try and make him smile. And quite frankly, it just annoyed him more. Seriously. Why did it have to be the guy who played stupid rap songs for twelve straight hours, and worse, rapped along with the music? It made him want to slam his head against the windshield. Why did he agree to come along with this guy?
Of all people, why did it have to be John Cena?
Punk let out another shaky breath, gloved hands stuffed in his armpits, teeth chattering just quite a bit. How did this all happen again? Oh. Right. Because it was Mr. Goodie Two Shoe’s fault that they missed their flight. Simple request. Just a simple request. Why couldn’t have John done it? It wasn’t too hard to wake him up from a small nap. Just a few minutes of shut-eye from another sleepless night. And thinking that he could trust the boy scout, he pulled his Cubs cap low to his eyes, hugged his own arms to himself as he tried to catch some sleep on the plastic seats of the waiting area of the airport. The large man, who had his earphones stuck in his ear, quietly sat just by his side, hands fiddling with his phone, perhaps sending a tweet or whatever this guy normally did with his phone. But that actually secured Punk and he closed his eyes once more, taking a deep breath as he quickly fell down to his slumber.
Next thing he knew, it was an hour later, their plane already left and they were going to be a day late to their house show. Why? Because John fell asleep right after he did, only to be woken up 45 minutes later by a flight attendant, saying that they missed their flight.
Now there he was. CM Punk. WWE Champion. Stuck in a car, parked in the middle of nowhere, freezing to death with John Cena. Out of all the people in the world.
“C-Can’t you just… turn on the heat or s-something..?”
John, who was hugging himself as well, turned his head to him, blue eyes a bit paler than before. Looked like he wasn’t dealing with the cold just as well as he expected him to.
“W-We’re out of gas…” He could hear him trying to keep his voice steady. “G-Gotta wait t-till…morning or something…”
Punk groaned at that answer, rolling his head in exasperation. Why did this have to happen to him? He missed his bus. He missed his bed. He missed traveling alone and without having to see John Cena sitting in the cold right beside him. Because quite honestly, he felt bad. Hey. He and John might not be the best of friends, but at least they respected each other. Despite. You know. The feud they were going through.
Running a hand through his short hair, he glanced over at John again, voice shaking as he spoke. “S-Still okay there, Johnboy?”
The man snorted. “Psshh. Yeah.”
“Bullshit.”
And he would never find the reason why he did this, but he moved over the center console, climbing on the driver’s seat where John was sitting. Okay, wrong. He was climbing on top of John’s lap, shaking arms wrapping around the man’s muscular frame, his face hidden in the larger man’s neck, inevitably inhaling his scent with every deep breath he took. John’s body was cold at first and it made him think that this was a mistake. But then his body slowly felt warmer. Not that warm to relieve them from the cold, but warm enough to make him at least feel comfortable. Hey. This wasn’t that bad at all.
But then he realized. He was cuddling John Cena.
“P-Punk…” Aaaand here came the question. “What are you doing?”
Just then he felt the heat rise up to his cheeks and he was relieved that he had his face hidden in the man’s neck. If the other guy saw him blushing because of this, he would rip someone’s head off. And yes, preferably Cena’s.
“Body heat.” The way he said it was casual, but he didn’t know why he felt like it was something more. Nope. Not now, CM Punk. Don’t overthink things.
Somehow his reply served to be a good enough for he felt arms wrapping around his lean body, keeping him close against the older man’s hard frame, cold cheek resting on the side of his head, securing him from the cold. Another blush crept up to his face upon the realization that John was hugging him back, but he didn’t let it get to him. Instead he snuggled closer to the man, both of them still shivering but mostly feeling a bit better than how they were feeling a few minutes ago. John rubbed his back soothingly, friction adding more heat, also the soft gesture almost lulling Punk to sleep. Wow. John actually makes a good pillow.
“Still breathing, kid?”
“Can’t you feel my fucking cold breath on your neck, boy scout?”
John chuckled at that, merely squeezing the man in his arms, still rubbing his back gently. If he only knew John could calm him like this, maybe he should invite him more often in his bus. You know. Just to put him to sleep. Just sleep. Yeah.
“You know,” the man spoke again, shifting a bit so he could properly snuggle him, which made Punk sigh in comfort despite himself. “Maybe we should strip off. You know. Add more body heat. Maybe so we can survive the night?”
Punk’s heart lurched inside his ribs at that, adding more heat into his already flushed cheeks. His body flush against John’s warm skin, pulling even closer to feel more of the warmth the other was emitting--Punk, stop thinking! And to distract himself, he lifted a hand to the man’s head, thumping it a bit too harshly, face still hidden in his neck.
“Stop being such a perv and try getting some sleep.”
Yeah. You can say that again, Punk.
Another chuckle escaped the man’s lips, merely pulling him as close as he could, with the younger cuddling him more. It didn’t take more before he was drifting off to sleep, John’s body warm against his, the man’s arms around his own frame, the elder’s lips pressed gently against his scalp as he drifted off to sleep with him.