When Punk made it back to his locker room, standing outside it was Kofi, Randy and Truth. Kofi and Truth had brought snacks and Randy seemed to be exasperated at the company he found himself in. They all took seats around the locker room to watch John's match.

Punk could automatically tell that John was not himself. If it was anyone else he would say they looked intimidated. John wasn't bouncing all over the ring as he usually did but was crouched in the corner. The match began and it was obvious to everyone in the locker room that the Rock was not performing as expected, he was better.

"It doesn't look like the Rock has any ring rust on him," Randy said, voicing aloud the opinion of everyone in the room. John seemed to be just as shocked.

"It's obvious he's been training with someone because you can't get back in ring shape that quickly without some help," Kofi observed.

"I wonder who the traitor was?" Punk questioned an opinionless room. "They obviously knew what they were doing because the Rock didn't look this good at Survivor Series."

John was holding his own against the Rock but when the tide turned against him John bailed out of the ring to the outside, something very uncharacteristic of him. Punk was starting to feel intense nervousness on John's behalf. AA's and Rock Bottoms were traded but neither man was able to follow them up with a pin.

John locked in the STF and it looked like the Rock was seconds away from passing out cold but he somehow made it to the ropes. John took advantage of a misstep and got the upper hand. Punk was sure the match was seconds from ending with John's hand raised until everyone in the locker room gasped at what they saw on the monitor. John whipped off the sweatband around his bicep, threw it into the audience and kicked the Rock's arms, moving him into place for the People's Elbow.

"What in the world is John thinking?" Randy said, dropping his head into his hands.

"This is so not a good idea," Kofi observed.

"Little Jimmy says cut out the showboating and AA the pebble."

"Oh fucking hell…" Punk shouted when the Rock rose, caught John with the Rock Bottom and got the pin. The audience erupted but Punk's stomach dropped to his feet. He could only watch in pain as John collapsed on the ramp and stared at the ring, the Rock celebrating his win. John looked completely broken.

The locker room cleared out like rats deserting a sinking ship. Punk wanted to both run away with them and stay exactly where he was and be there for John like he had so many times for him. What was he supposed to say to John? He had the Rock beat and as if by osmosis the Rock's egomaniacal ways took over John and he had attempted the extremely ill-advised mocking of the People's Elbow. The win was in John's grasp and he let it slip through his fingers.

John walked into the locker room and Punk knew that words were not necessary. It was written all over John's face that he knew the mistake he had made. Punk watched as John removed his gear and headed for the shower. Punk made no move to follow or even try to speak to John. John had always given him the space he needed when his emotions were in a dangerous place. Punk also knew that giving some sort of speech to cheer John up would fail spectacularly. John came back into the locker room, changed into his street clothes and stared at the alcove in front of him for several highly uncomfortable minutes. It was obvious that John was not going to be snapping out of it anytime soon. Punk made the decision to try to comfort John, rising from the couch and stepping behind John, wrapping his arms around John's middle. He could feel John taking shuddering breaths and after some time John turned around in Punk's arms and laid his head on Punk's shoulder, the tears coming from John's eyes wetting his shirt.

"What was I thinking? How could I do something so stupid?" John said, his voice muffled.

"Your emotions got the better of you, it happens to us all from time to time."

"I'm going to have to go out there tomorrow night and face the crowd. They're not going to be booing me because they hate me for a change but mocking me for running off my mouth and then failing to get the job done. The Rock is going to stroll out to the ring victorious and then take off again to film some movie or walk a red carpet and I'll still be here trying to live this down."

"I'd go out there and tell the crowd to go fuck themselves but I know that's not you. How does the saying go 'Rise Above Hate?"

"That's going to be pretty tough when the person you hate is you but you're right. I'm going to go out there, congratulate the Rock on being the better man at WrestleMania and try to move on from there."

"As long as you don't move on to my title."

"Even in my moment of anguish you manage to find a way to make me smile. At least I still have you."

"Well, I don't know…you did lose to the Rock."

John leaned up and kissed Punk tenderly.

"We're going to get through this together. The WWE Universe doesn't have a very long memory. In a month no one will even care what happened at WrestleMania, they'll be all over the next big thing."

They made their way to the hotel. John's smile increasing with every floor they ascended until the doors opened and John pulled Punk so quickly down the hall that Punk thought John might dislocate his arm. They entered the room and John pushed Punk down to a sitting position on the bed.

"This is so not how I planned this night to go. It doesn't have to be a complete loss but I'm going to need your help."

"Anything."

"John walked over to his suitcase and came back with both fists balled up and settled on his knees between Punk's legs.

"Pick one."

Punk smiled at John's night being saved by a childish sort of game. Punk made a point of being tragically undecided but eventually tapped the top of a closed fist.

"Stand up and hold out your hand."

Punk stood and held out his hand, palm facing up and into it dropped two twin platinum bands. Punk looked down at John who was smiling so brightly, his dimples fully evident and a hopeful look in his eyes. John rose up on one knee and brought Punk's left hand to his lips, softly kissing Punk's ring finger and then lowered it so that is was pressed over his heart.

"I knew that we would be together forever after our first kiss. You may not have felt the same way at first but you gradually gave me your love until I knew I occupied your whole heart, maybe even before you did. I gave my heart to you and have never regretted it since. You're the love of my life and there will never be another for me but you. You've given me so much but I have to ask you to make one final step with me. Philip Jack Brooks, will you marry me?"

Punk knelt down so that they were eye to eye.

"My love and trust might have taken longer to develop but it doesn't make them any less true. It makes them truer in fact, seeing every side of you, from the good to the bad, to know that I would love you forever, that you were meant to be the only one for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and even though it won't be legal almost everywhere we go, I want to know that we joined our lives together in front of our family and friends. John Felix Anthony Cena, will you marry me? My answer is yes, what is yours?

"Yes, of course it's yes," John yelled with joy, throwing his hands around Punk's neck and toppling them to the ground. "I was so worried that you were going to say no because I thought that marriage might not be something you ever conceived of doing. I've been rehearsing that speech since I bought the rings."

"When was that?"

"After Christmas. When we were in Tiffany's buying your Mom's present I saw them in the display case and knew they were perfect for us; simple but still beautiful. I found them on the internet and sent in our sizes."

"How did you manage that when I've never worn a ring in my life?"

"Do you want to see what was in the other hand? In a way it's your engagement ring."

John reached over to grab the object from the ground near the sofa. John opened his hand and Punk peered in, totally confused by what he was seeing.

"Lint?"

"It's not lint, its string."

"From your sewing kit I imagine."

"What do you know about the sewing kit?"

"To put the explanation into the right context so I don't seem like some sort of psycho, about everyone I knew told me that you were going to ask me to marry you. I went through your things looking for the rings but the only out of place thing I found was that sewing kit."

"You obviously didn't look inside."

"Why would I? I can't think of anything more useless than a sewing kit."

"Its use is that it's the perfect place to hide a set of rings. A place where not to bring them is keeping them in your pocket when you're going through airport security. I couldn't exactly have put the rings in the little plastic basket without you seeing. I had to weave a romantic tale to the TSA agent so she would let me go. I practiced my proposal over and over knowing I only had one chance to get it right but you seemed to know just what to say."

"Actually I had some time to practice as well. I've been trying to ask you to marry me for the last few weeks but I could never get the words out."

"You were going to propose to me? Did I already tell you I love you? Because I do, desperately. Now back to your engagement ring. I know you're not the type to want one but I do want people to know that you belong to someone, that you're loved by someone, even if you can't say that it's me."

John took the ball of string, stretched it out and slipped the circle of string down the ring finger of Punk's left hand.

"You're right, this is about all the bling that I can handle since I'm already on overload with the belt."

"This is the string I used to measure your finger for the wedding rings while you were sleeping…"

"Do you know that's the first time that you said that phrase?"

"What phrase?"

"Wedding rings. We're going to have a wedding; we're going to be married. If someone told me that this would be my chosen life a year ago I would have had them maimed by Nexus."

"But you're happy with the strange course of events that led us here?"

"I am. I wouldn't have had it any other way. I love you John Cena."

"I love you too Phil Brooks. What is your opinion on pre-marital sex?" John asked with a wicked smile.

"That you won't be getting any until we put on your engagement ring as well," Punk said with a wide smile, going to John's suitcase where the sewing kit was lying on top and then sitting back down on the carpet next to John.

"What color do you want? You know, how about we just give you green for now and every time you change your shirt colors we can change up the color. John watched as Punk wrapped the thread around his finger, knotted it and snipped the loose ends off with what the makers of the sewing kit considered scissors. "Wait, one more thing!" and Punk reached for the bedside table, grabbing his phone. Punk held their hands up together so that their matching engagement rings of string were visible and got John to hold up the actual wedding bands in front of their hands. He turned the phone around and snapped a photo of their incandescently happy faces.

"Please don't send that out now. We'll never hear the end of it for the rest of the night."

"I know better than that. I just wanted a picture of us in the moment. I'll send it out tomorrow morning. So Mrs. Punk, how about offering up a little of that pre-marital sex that you were talking about earlier," Punk said with a provocative smile.

Punk stood up and started to pull his shirt off but John rose and stilled Punk's hands.

"No, let me," and John pulled Punk's shirt slowly over his head, running his fingers through Punk's ungelled hair. He palmed the back of Punk's head, drawing him close to kiss him, eager to have no part of Punk's mouth go unexplored. He was going to remember and cherish every moment of this night and that included the sugared flavor of Punk's mouth. Punk's tongue followed John's, letting Punk kiss him with the same amount of thoroughness. Punk began to kiss him more fiercely, his hands sliding down to toy with the hem of John's shirt. John regretfully broke the first kiss of their engaged life and let Punk pull his shirt over his head.

Punk moved closer so that the warm flesh of their chests was melded together. Punk kissed him briefly on the mouth, working his way across his cheek to his neck where he began sucking and kissing down the tendon he found there. Punk kissed his way across John's chest, only stopping to nip at his nipples and soothe the bite with a lick and a kiss. The other side of John's neck was given the same treatment. Punk lightly bit John's earlobe and whispered softly in John's ear.

"Can I remove these?" Punk asked while sliding his hands down John's muscled chest and abs, stopping at his belt buckle.

"Can I call you my fiancé?"

"Only at appropriate times."

"That sounds vague."

"Just say it and then if I'm glaring at you afterwards then you'll know it wasn't the correct time."

"Since I will want to tell every person I come in contact with and arenas full of fans I have a feeling that I'm going to be doing a lot of apologizing and groveling."

John felt Punk undo his belt buckle, unbuttoning and unzipping his jorts and lowering them to the floor with his boxer briefs. Punk looked so tempting his knees in front of him and the feeling increased when Punk gently licked the head of his cock, his tongue dipping in the slit to taste the precome there. He reached down to grasp Punk's shoulders and lifted him back to his feet.

"You don't want…"

"All I want to do is be inside you, feel you all around me," John said, untying Punk's gym shorts and lowering them to the ground. John stood and wrapped his arms around Punk's waist, lifting him off his feet so John had to look up to kiss Punk. Punk kissed him deeply as John walked them over to the bed and laid them both down, John's body settling between Punk's spread thighs. John smoothed his hands down Punk's legs from ankle to hip, reveling in the soft, lightly muscled expanse. He let his hands and mouth explore the colorful spread of Punk's chest, suckling each nipple until they formed hard peaks. His lips wandered down the midline of Punk's chest, coming to rest over the tattoo on Punk's hip that bore his name. His thumb caressed the writing several times and then traced his signature with his tongue over and over. He thought when they got these tattoos that he knew what it felt like to possess someone but he really hadn't had a clue until now.

John moved back up Punk's body, kissing him leisurely, Punk moaned at the contact. Punk's arms twined around John's neck, keeping him close so that the kiss could not be broken. They were content to just lay with each other, skin to skin, and revel at the new and unexpected feelings two rings and two circles of thread had brought to their relationship. Their hips began to grind together, creating a ghost of the feeling that their full joining would bring.

John lined his hips up and slid into Punk's tight opening, somewhat resistant due to the lack of preparation but when Punk wanted to feel that John had been there for days he made this request and without asking knew that this is what Punk would prefer on this night. Buried to the hilt in Punk's warm and grasping channel he paused to commit to memory exactly what this felt like. He drew Punk's legs to circle his waist; Punk tightened his legs around his body. John looked up into Punk's stormy green eyes.

"This is the way that I love the most. I always feel closest to you when we're lying skin to skin down the length of our bodies and your arms and legs are wrapped around me, like you never want me to leave."

John began slowly stroking in and out of Punk's body, almost pulling all the way out to plunge back in, breathing in time with each other, wanting this to last forever. Punk's hips started rolling against his, John taking the cue to increase the pace of his thrusts.

"John, it's so good, so good…"

Punk's soft moans were so enticing that he had to lean down and capture them with his mouth, drawing every bit of Punk's pleasure into him. He angled his hips, practiced in the ways of Punk's body, applying pressure to the bundle of nerves that would send Punk over the edge.

"Right there, oh fuck, John…"

John would love to draw this out forever but his body's undeniable demands and Punk's labored breathing caused his hips to pound forcefully against Punk, reaching between them to stroke Punk to completion. He could feel Punk's come splash between them at the same moment John came deep within Punk's body. John laid down, his head resting over Punk's heart, a heart that beat only for him in this moment. He stayed that way for a few silent minutes, their bodies still joined together, marveling at what it felt like to truly know that Punk was his and he was Punk's. John pulled out of Punk and drew the covers over them, turning them on their sides.

Punk pulled John's arms around him so that his back was pressed to John's chest. John let his mouth travel to the spot behind Punk's ear, licking and kissing the sensitive skin. Punk reached back with his hand, keeping John's mouth close, John worshiping the spot that inspired the first romantic words he ever spoke to Punk.

"You still taste as sweet as you did that first night."

John gave the spot one last kiss and rested his chin on Punk's shoulder, their cheeks pressed together. Punk held out his hand to admire his engagement string.

"You know most women adopt that pose when they're admiring their diamonds."

"They can keep their over-priced pieces of rock. My ring says all it needs to, that you are mine and I am yours. John reached over and lined up his hand with Punk's, reveling in the feeling that something so small as a piece of thread could reveal feelings you didn't know were there.

"Phil, I love you."

"And I love you. Just because I'm almost Mrs. Cena doesn't mean that I'm going to stop wanting to get my own way all the time."

"Yes Phil, yes, whatever you want."

AN: And this brings us to the end of a Hazy Shade of Winter with our boys engaged and happy, as it should be. This installment presented many challenges but I hope I handled them in an engaging and entertaining way. There is one last installment of the quadrilogy and then this series will come to a close. I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did. The WrestleMania chapters took a lot of work and I feel spent and need a little break but I'll be back to see our boys safely to the altar. I want to sincerely thank my reviewers. Your support is just as big a part of my creative process as me actually committing words to screen. Hope to see you all again when the new story gets posted.