Okay, so, right now, I'm involved in a kiss bingo challenge. It's like bingo, except with fics... if you've been on my livejournal, you know what I'm talking about. Anyway, long and short of it is, I set out to write 25 different fics to 25 different prompts, all of course having to do with a kiss. I've posted three here (one for Animorphs, the others the Petey/Alex and the Vickie/Dolph) and I'm posting the others (with the exception of those written out of the wrestlefandom) here. That's 21 kisses, with different pairings and ratings. I explored a bit, so there's a healthy mix of the usual pairings I do and some you may have never seen. WWE, TNA, ROH... I've tinkered with them all. I enjoyed the stuff, and hope you will too.

Onto kiss number one...


Prompt: Hello
Title: Hello
Rating: I'll go with PG here
Warnings: Nadie.
Summary: Punk's gotta go home. Colt wants him to stay.


"You sure you can't stay for a little while longer?"

Punk turned around, smiling over at his friend. Every time he managed to come home for a while, he always made some time to visit Colt, whether it only be an hour or a few days. Of course, not having to pay for food was a definite bonus (Colt's kitchen was always pretty well stacked), but, well, even Punk wasn't above admitting that he genuinely missed Colt sometimes.

He'd be damned if he admitted it to Cabana, though.

"I've got things to do before I leave Chicago," Punk explained, "And I can't do that here popping Whoppers until I burst."

"We can… stop popping Whoppers." Colt grinned widely, making Punk chuckle.

"It has nothing to do with the Whoppers."

"Then why did you bring up the Whoppers?"

"Look, it's not the Whoppers. It's the 'I need to go home.'" Punk motioned towards the window, as if Colt could see his condo from there. "I've got stuff to do."

"Can't it wait?" Colt's voice still carried its characteristic comedic tinge, but Punk was sure that Colt Cabana legitimately wanted him to stay a little longer. He understood that they hardly saw each other, what with his demanding WWE schedule, and Colt's own work, and every moment they could spend together mattered. But he had bills to pay, other people to see; he couldn't let Colt take up all of his time.

"If you want them to shut off my water, then yes, it can wait." Punk reached out, punching Colt's arm playfully. "Hey, I'll see you soon enough, right? Next thing you know, I'll be back here and we'll be killing our bodies with more malted milk balls."

"Yeah, you're right." His grin was still on his face, but it seemed plastered on now. "Hey, but you'll buy the Whoppers next time, though. Right?"

"Whatever." Punk held his arms out, and Colt met him in a hug. They remained in the embrace for a few moments, before Punk broke away, whispering that they had enough of that. He picked his bag back up, slinging it over his shoulder, giving Colt a small wave as he turned for the door.

"Hey." Punk glanced back. "I got Pepsi." Another laugh, this time a genuine one that brightened Colt's whole countenance.

"See you later, Cabana." And without a word, Punk was out the door, and Colt was staring at it quietly. He missed him already.

But he'd be damned if he told Punk that.

Before Colt could even lock the door, there was a loud, insistent knock. Curious, he opened the door without even asking who it was, smiling again when he saw Punk. "You forgot something?"

Punk reached out, placing his hands on Colt's cheeks and pulling him into a quick kiss. Colt couldn't even react; it ended as soon as it began, and he was left staring at Punk, obviously waiting for an explanation.

"Hello," he said, ignoring the question, "I'm thirsty. You said something about Pepsi?"