Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot. Everything else belongs to the WWE, John Cena and CM Punk.

A/N: This was another tumblr request. Surprisingly I really really enjoyed writing for this pairing. I might even do more. I've been wanting to write a story with Punk for a while but I'm really picky with my Characters being realistic so I put that off. Anyways, I'll stop boring you all. Enjoy the story. Leave review, maybe? :)

Punk exited the ring wiping the sweat of his face with the back of his hand. He just had sparring session with Kofi and was pretty much drenched in sweat. Some people don't take practice or work outs seriously but Punk doesn't do anything half-assed so he gives it his all.

He was walking towards the water fountain when he saw John Cena leaning against the wall next to it. He had his usual get up of a pair of jean-shorts and a T-shirt. He crossed his large muscular arms and had a smile on his face. Punk tried not stare at him too long and dropped his eyes to the floor.

What a lot of people didn't know - actually, no one knew - was that John and Punk have been seeing each other for a few months now. Well, not seeing each other so much as fucking each other's brains out.

"Hey champ," John said as Punk approached the water fountain.

He nodded, "John." He bent over and started to drink the water from the fountain, still feeling John's eyes on him - on his ass, more specifically.

Punk turned his head to John and looked up at him, "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

John got the message and quit ogling Punk's firm ass in front of everyone and shot back at Punk with his own little comment, "Actually I think I already have a few on my phone, thanks for the suggestion though."

"Want to say that any louder? I'm not sure the people out in the hallway heard you."

John smirked, "Oh, is CM Punk scared?"

"Fuck no!" Punk said a little too loudly but he didn't care. He straightened up, "I just don't think that you want-"

"Oh, so you're concerned about me?" John interrupted. Punk rolled his eyes and walked away, "Come on, Punk! I'm only messing with you!"

"Fuck you!"

"You already did..." John said quietly but Punk heard and flipped him off.

"Just shut up, you big oaf." He walked out of the gym and started for his car. He was all riled up now and usually he'd usually calm down by going working out but seeing as how John was the source of the problem and currently in the gym, that wasn't going to happen.

It wasn't that Punk cared about what people thought of him. He actually couldn't give a shit if he tried. He didn't care if people thought he was some fucked up, weird, wrestling queer. It honestly didn't matter to him, but he still liked his private business to be private. He didn't need the whole world knowing who he was fucking.

And you'd think that Cena would appreciate that. You'd think the face of the company would be even more secretive than Punk was, but you'd be wrong. Sometimes Punk didn't get John. Hell, Punk hardly ever got John, but he thought they'd be on the same page on this one. Evidently he was wrong.

He got to the car only to realize he left his gym bag in the gym, along with his car keys. He sighed and marched back towards the gym, not wanting to hear what John was going to say about it.

. . .

It was past midnight when the two wrestlers were finally done screwing each other. John rolled off Punk, still panting from what just happened. He pulled Punk closer to him and curled an arm around his waist. When they first started doing this they never really had any contact afterwards. One would get up clean up a little and change back into their clothes before heading back to their own room. Now, however, it took them a little longer to separate. They pretended like it wasn't happening. Like they were both still in it for the sex only, but deep down they knew they were lonely. That after a while just sex wasn't going to cut it. That sometimes they just needed to hold someone or be held.

Punk tried to act like he wasn't leaning into John's touch, even though he totally was and John acted like he didn't notice, even though he totally did. After a few minutes Punk spoke up, "It's late...I should leave." Punk made to move but John wouldn't let him.

"Stay, get some sleep..." John said. He didn't want Punk to leave. He never wanted Punk to leave, but he was having a hard time dealing with that revelation. Maybe he was more interested in Punk than he let on. Maybe he wasn't just doing this for the sex.

Punk rolled his eyes and laid back down, still in John's strong arms. If he was being completely honest with himself he didn't really want to leave anyways. As they were falling back asleep John traced one of Punks many tattoos. Just as Punk was drifting away, he felt John press a kiss to his temple, making him jump.

"What's wrong?" John sat up looking at the other wrestler who was scrambling out of bed.

"Nothing." Punk pulled up his boxers and slid on his t-shirt, not even caring that it was inside out. He yanked on his pants and grabbed his shoes and socks before heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" John tried to ask casually, but failed. He didn't sound calm and uncaring like he wanted to, he sounded concerned and needy which scared him a little.

"Back to my room." Punk yanked open the door and slammed it shut. John slumped back down in his bed feeling incredibly cold and lonely. He didn't sleep at all that night.

. . .

The two men didn't see each other for a while after that, not even backstage. Punk was a little freaked out about the kiss. They didn't even kiss when they fucked, it was sort of an unspoken rule between them. A line that shouldn't be crossed.

But that night, John crossed it. It didn't matter that it wasn't on the lips, John still kissed Punk and crossed the line. He dragged them past the point of no return. Now they're both wondering what the are to each other. The are forced to face the question of if they're looking for a real relationship. A question they've both been ignoring for quite a while now.

As Punk paced back and forth in his locker room, he finally came to a decision. He knew what he wanted and he knew his answer to the question.

No.

. . .

A full three weeks later John was standing outside Punk's room, still building up the courage to knock. He needed to talk to Punk. Figure things out. Make things right.

The older of the finally accepted that he wanted Punk, needed Punk. It wasn't all about sex for him - although he missed it like hell - he enjoyed being with Punk. He loved talking with him and fighting with him and getting to see the little glimpses of 'Phil Brooks' that no one else gets to see. He was falling for the straight-edge and he honestly didn't mind.

John finally took a deep breath and knocked on the door. A few seconds later it opened and there was his Punk. "John..."

"Hey." John said and rubbed the back of his neck. That surge of confidence he had to knock on the door was gone and now he was more nervous than he has been in his whole life.

"Is there something you need?"

You, John thought but he wasn't going to be too forward. "I need to talk to you." Punk sighed, he knew this was going to happen at some point but he hoped he would have more time.

"Sure," Punk held the door open and John slipped in. Punk stood there with his arms crossed and John shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I've...I've missed you." John said honestly.

"Yeah?"

John nodded, "Yeah." They were quiet for a few moments then John added, "I want us to get back together. For real this time."

Punk blinked, "John, there is no 'us'. There never was."

"That's bullshit and you know it. I know you want me, just as much as I want you."

"Yeah, and how do you know that John?" Punk snapped, getting in John's face.

"I can feel it. I can see it in your eyes. I know that the same loneliness that plagues me, plagues you too. I know that you want to be with me Punk, so what's stopping you."

Punk sighed, "Relationships are messy, John. I don't need messy. And I'm not lonely."

The older shook his head, he knew Punk was going to be difficult about this but he had hope that Punk would realize that they belonged together. "How can you lie to yourself like that. I know you're lonely. I can tell by the way you would leave after we'd make-"

"If you say 'Make Love' I swear on everything that's important to me, I will kick your teeth in." Punk threatened. He didn't do well with mushy feelings. Hell, he didn't do well with any kind of feeling.

John smirked, "I could tell by the way you would leave after we fucked. I could tell how reluctant you were. I was just as reluctant when I would have to leave." John moved forward a little and secured his arms around Punk's waist. The other man gulped. "Now quit denying yourself and kiss me."

When Punk didn't budge John rolled eyes and leaned forward, press his lips against the other mans. Punk didn't put up much of a struggle before melting into the kiss, resting his hands on John's chest. Okay, so he did want the older man. He was lonely and he did want a real relationship with John. He just didn't want to admit it.

A need for oxygen pulled them apart. "See that wasn't so hard was it." John said with a smile on his face.

Punk rolled his eyes and kissed John this time, telling himself that it was to shut the man up rather than for his own enjoyment