I guess this story starts after Over the Limit but it is going to go off storyline even though it's character based like most of my fics. It is slash, of course.
I adore this pairing. Actually, I just adore both of these guys and I completely agree with Dolph Ziggler. He should be at the top of the roster with Punk and Bryan.
But, Randy Orton just got suspended which means there will be no Orton/Ziggler feud. I was actually looking forward to that feud. Despite what some people say, Orton's pretty good at putting people over.
I don't own anyone mentioned in this fic
"Who exactly are you rooting for in this match?" John leaned a bit closer to Punk as he asked the question, glancing towards the other man, who looked rather relaxed in his seat.
"Haven't decided yet," Punk answered, despite the fact that the match had been going on for a couple of minutes already but John saw him wince slightly when Kofi landed a hit from the top rope on Ziggler.
"I don't get it," John said a few minutes later when Ziggler and Swagger managed to get the upper hand and employed some rather underhanded tactics.
"You've said that before." Punk didn't look away from the monitor.
"I know…" John really didn't get it though. Punk and Kofi traveled together, they were friends and John knew that Kofi was a good guy. Ziggler, on the other hand…
John glanced sideways at Punk once again. Punk was already in his ring gear, legs stretched out before him and John chewed his lip, looking away. Okay, so he might have had personal reasons for not liking Ziggler, other than the fact that Ziggler liked to cheat in his matches.
Actually, that had been a problem for him for a while. One that didn't seem to want to go away. He wasn't really sure what to do about it. Ziggler and Punk had been together for months. Unbelievably, they'd started whatever it was t they had near the end of their feud.
He heard Punk sigh when Kofi landed his finisher and got the pin on Ziggler. "You happy with that?"
"Still haven't decided."
"What is the matter with you?" Jack couldn't help but to ask, eyeing his tag team partner. Dolph was sitting, leaned back in his seat, still in his ring attire and looked as if he wasn't planning on getting up anytime soon.
Jack had already showered and changed himself. Dolph didn't answer him, his gaze trained on the monitor before him. CM Punk was making his way down to the ring to defend his title against Daniel Bryan.
"You and him get into a fight?" Jack asked. He was only halfway interested in the answer to that question. His friendship with Dolph was based solely in their careers. He didn't really care about the details of Dolph's personal life.
Dolph raised an eyebrow and put his hands behind his head. "Yes, Jack. That's it. Why don't you sit down and we can talk about it. Maybe I can cry on your shoulder."
John rolled his eyes at the heavy sarcasm. "As fun as that sounds, I think I'm going to get out of here."
Dolph's attention was already fully focused on the monitors, however. Jack shook his head and turned to leave. He didn't really get why Dolph and Punk were even together. CM Punk was a grouchy asshole and Dolph was an egotistical jackass. Their 'relationship' seemed to be based around those personality traits, or at least from what Jack had seen of them so far.
As much as Jack didn't care about the details, he'd covered for the two of them on more than one occasion. So far, he was pretty sure he and only a couple other guys that were friends with Punk backstage knew about the two of them.
While neither Dolph nor Punk seemed to care who knew, Jack preferred the rest of the world not knowing about it. As much as it burned him even to think it, he knew, at this point, the only two reasons he was still on television every week were Vickie and Dolph.
It did burn. The knowledge that he had been, at one point, a champion. The knowledge that his career had fallen so hard and so fast. He glanced at Dolph again before leaving the room. He was pretty sure he knew why Dolph had been in such a foul mood and he didn't like it.
"You look…happy." Dolph eyed Punk, unable to match the grin on the man's face.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Punk asked, sitting down beside him on the bench.
"You know Bryan's just going to contest that and that he's going to be replaying the end of that match for weeks."
"He can replay it all he wants," Punk said, unwinding his wrist tape. He sounded completely unconcerned.
"What's up with that thing with AJ?" He'd seen the girl approach Punk before his match.
"Why?" Punk smirked, raised an eyebrow at him. "Jealous?"
"Please. I don't get jealous. I mean, who in their right mind would choose her over me?"
Punk looked him over. "Yeah, I guess you're girly enough." He pulled off his kick pads.
"With legs like that, I wouldn't be calling anyone else girly," Dolph commented. He frowned a bit when Punk moved his title to lay it on top of his bag, his vision caught by it for a moment.
Punk grinned. "I'm going to shower. You coming?"
Dolph shook his head distractedly. The sight of Punk's WWE title sitting there in front of him only brought back his bad mood from before. Brought back the fact that while Punk had been in-and winning-WWE championship matches, he'd been losing tag team matches.
"Suit yourself." Punk shrugged and then dropped his trunks, heading towards the shower.
Dolph watched him walk away, for the moment forgetting his darker thoughts in favor of that sight and he jumped up, following anyway. Couldn't be too clean, after all.
"Would you just…settle for a minute?" There was a hint of frustration in Dolph's voice and he pulled Punk so that the man was laying half on top of him. They'd been back at the hotel for several hours and Dolph, for one, was exhausted.
"You're not going to sleep are you?" He asked even though Punk had stilled with his head resting on Dolph's chest.
"Probably not." He paused and his tone was serious when he spoke next. "What the matter with you?"
"Nothing. I'm fine. Great, even."
Punk lifted his head to meet his gaze, the look on his face skeptical. Dolph sighed. He really didn't want to get into it. But Punk would know that he was lying. The few people who knew about them would probably never understand why they were together or how they had stayed together for as long as they had.
Ninety percent of their relationship consisted of traded insults, the type of banter that helped greatly with the still widely believed misconception that they hated each other. But there was the other ten percent that nobody ever saw but them.
"I'm good. Just tired. So, you know, if you're going to stay up…"
"Yeah, yeah." Punk pulled away from him and got up from the bed. "Actually, I think I'm going to go find the gym."
"This late?" There wasn't much surprise in Dolph's voice. Punk usually did this after a match like the one he'd had earlier in the night.
"I gotta work this out," he said with a shrug, putting on his tennis shoes. Dolph waited until after he'd left the room before he dropped back on the bed again, his mind wondering back to his own match.
He had to do something about it. He was getting restless, unhappy with the situation he found himself in. He needed to do something about it.