#punkcfrogers

The group of friends sat in the California beach house, it was storming that night, they had lost all power. 

Nash was sitting by the screen door watching the storm battle with the sea. 

On the couch sat a lively bunch. Air was sitting on Addie's lap, they had been sharing stories for hours now and lovingly teasing one another. Air was now using Addie's small shoulder’s as a head rest.  Next to them was a man with light pink eyes, Nikolai, Nash’s best friend for years. He had Chili on his lap and would ever so casually stroke her blonde hair while she drifted in and out of sleep. Nash could hear Nikolai hum soft Russian lullabies to the girl every so often. Punk was in the kitchen looking for flash lights, and drinks, he had been gone only five minutes.

On the floor, in front of Nikolai, who’s legs were crossed and his back was against the arm rest of the couch, sat Luka. A tall, nappy haired Russian with the strangest ruby eyes. He wore some serious battle scars over his entire body, and had a child-like understanding of most things. He and Nikolai had been speaking to each other in their native language together on and off. Next to Luka sat a very short girl with brown hair, Nina. The two were intently playing Pokémon together on their handhelds, and flirting playfully. Claire, a spunky ginger with wild curly locks, and a face framed with glasses, nestled close to Nina. She was watching the two play on their handhelds. Daniel had his head on Claire’s lap and demanded for her to run her fingers through his hair. He would occasionally throw a few snarky remarks at Adelaide who would shoot them right back in good fun.

Signal sat across from Nina. He still wore the television on his head and spoke little to everyone else. The reflection of their games could be seen on his screen. Behind Signal on a recliner was where Elwood had resided and was clearly sound asleep.

They all had been talking and teasing one another as they waited for the power to turn back on. Nash didn’t see even one person who seemed to mind.

“Nash come over here with us!” he heard Addie call over to him.

“Nah, ’m gonna go upstairs. Lay down or somethin’,” he mumbled before standing up. Walking up the old stairs he listened to their voices turn to soft whispers then murmurs. Sitting on the bed he ran his fingers over the wrinkled sheets, Punk and himself had slept there the night before and had been so excited to start their day the bed was left unmade. He laughed, seeing his partner so carefree eased his soul. He loved how Punk carried himself when he felt free.

In his duffle bag there were now three bottles of pills, he was supposed to take them...but again he skipped out. Thunder crashed and his attention pulled from the red bag to the windows that were hardly staying shut as they fought with the wind. Nashville walked to the window and stared at the violent storm. 

“They said you went up here,” a familiar voice said, hardly audible over the the heavy rain that danced over the tin roof. Nash turned and smiled lightening struck in the distance and lit up the room. Punk’s eyes light up like fireworks with the flash. The tanned male had on one of Tyler’s shirts and a pair of swim trunks.

Nash looked back at his own attire and smirked. He had on his favorite black swim trucks with the bright blue stripe going up vertically on both outside legs and like usual, Nash was shirtless his back warm from the sun they enjoyed earlier that day.

“Yeah, uh, wanted a better view of the sky,” he said before looking back out the window.

Punk walked over to the other window next to Nash and nodded, “It’s getting dark, huh?” 

Nash nodded in response. The large waves slammed over the sand pulling back the the grains as the water washed away. He watched them and felt for the sand. The chances of some of those grains ever seeing the land again were so slim. Nash could understand that feeling, but on the other hand he rolled his eyes. Sand didn’t have feelings anyway.

The two stood in silence, now facing one another, Nash could feel his increased heart beat and shaking hands. The lightening struck and would make everything in the room glow briefly. Thunder roared and shook the house. “What are you think-,” Nash had been cut off by a powerful gust of window that threw the windows open and allowed cold rain to hit them. 

Nashville laughed, as the water hit him, facing it he closed his eyes and let the wind messy up his wild locks and allowed the cold, water mixed with salt from the ocean wash over his tanned skin. When he turned and saw Punk, who was just watching him. Smiling he saw a new look in his partner’s eyes. 

Nash’s mouth opened slightly and he leaned forward, separated by only a few feet he saw his entire life, every choice, trouble, and ache lead up to this moment. Pulling Punk close he held him as the wind blew pages from the desk out the window and soaked them and the room. He just held him tightly and smiled.

- - -

He dropped down onto to the floor his blue eyes appearing as tired as his physic. He shivered as the sweat and blood rolled down his battered skin. It formed puddles on the floor and left a path along floor. Punk looked at me with blood on his hands and his eye now bruising, and smiled. It was the same smile that broke me so many times...it was a smile all my own. 

“Stop that,” I murmured obviously worried as his condition was less than okay. He just rolled his eyes in response. 

I looked at his chest blood was soaking through his shirt, biting my lip it took all I had not to sob at the sight. “You’re so stupid. What the hell were you thinking?” I hissed while assisting him in removing his jacket. There was no response, not that I expected one. I sighed, “Sit up.”

Slowly he moved forward and I helped carefully pull the shirt off his body, the with the fabric clinging inside his open wounds there was no choice but to pull it out slowly. “Why...” I groaned, not at the sight of blood or open flesh wounds, but at the fact that they were his. He was hurt. “Charlie...you fucking moron.”

He moved his bloodied hand to my face and smiled again, “I told you I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you,” my green eyes looked away from him now. He didn’t know about a lot of the paranormal shit that happened to me. Like the times when my hands would glow blue and burn me...eating away at the skin, yet to the rest of the world they were as cold as ice. I still hadn’t figured out what triggered that...if it was rage or fear...or just something that happened at random. Until I figured it out, I had no intentions on telling Punk. 

“I can handle those things you know,” I half lied. It wasn’t that I wasn’t acceptable of holding my own, it was more so I managed to get myself into those messed stupidly. 

“Addie, he had you pinned against a wall. He fucking cut your top off!” Punk now roared. 

I flinched, the thought brought back other painful memories of when I was younger. They froze me in place and I trembled, that’s what I had done not so long ago. He pulled me away from the party acting as a friend. And myself, being naive as usual, went along. It wasn’t until I realized he took me somewhere alone and was now touching my thigh did I panic. Fear took over and I didn’t move. I couldn’t scream. 

Punk stepped in before he could do anything more than cut my clothes off and grope me. I had a few cuts along my skin from how the drunken man carelessly sliced the fabric and grazed my skin. 

Charlie had found us and saw the pure terror in my eyes. In that moment he snapped and charged the guy, I felt faint and ill from all the commotion and simply collapsed missing what had happened. When my eyes opened again, I was being carried to the car. I was wrapped in Punk’s jacket and I could feel warmth rolling down my face. I moved my hand up and touched it. The sticky warm substance was my blood, and my head throbbed. I recalled previous events and assumed I had bee discretely drugged by the man. I couldn’t see Punk’s face clearly, everything was a blur. He sat me down in the seat and said I was going to be okay, and then I drifted out again.

Now alert and shaken I tried to keep myself together as I patched Punk up. He wouldn’t tell me how bad the fight was, but from his wounds it was certainly more than a fist fight. 

“How’s your head?” he asked me softly. 

I shrugged, “Sore...I have a headache, but I’m still in better shape than you...I’m sorry.”

“I heal quick, babe. Don’t worry about it....you had me worried. You have horrible judgement you know. Worried me sick,” he told me as I began to clean and wrap the deep cut on his chest. 

“I’m so sorry...” I said again.

When he and I were both patched up we found comfort in my bed. I curled myself against him, and traced my fingers over the raw scratches that marked his arms. I could only imagine what the other man had looked like, but when I closed my eyes to picture him I saw nothing but a dark shadow, and Charlie chased him off with a shine a light. 

I knew him well, in ways that seemed so natural to me. How his muscles moved, his tissues clung inside and his blood flowed filling his being with life and passion. I twined myself with him and I lost myself in his breath. I could feel the heavy rage of his heart beat as it slammed against his chest. It’s timing in sync with my own. With every breath, and every moan I felt myself giving in more and more. He was entirely mine and I was his...and even through the pain and fear we had each other. 

As he held me and our emotions dug deep under our skin, he left my clinging to every breath, every movement, every second with desperate fingertips and longing lips.

He plunged himself into not only my being but my soul, holding himself against me was surreal. As if I were staring at a fully covered star filled sky for the first time in my life. It left me with wonder, and filled me with peace.

When I woke that morning, he was still there. I nuzzled myself closer while he cradled my in his arms. The sun beamed in my strange form of a room, though the cold snow that fell outside left me with no desire to move. “Good morning,” he said softly. The unexpected voice made me jump. 

He laughed before kissing my cheek, “Adelaide...I love you.”

Maybe it was that last sip of tea in my cup that allowed myself to realize the reality I was living in, or maybe it was his smile when he looked at me from across the table. Those dazzling blue eyes, a refreshing grin, and a tenderness I had never found in anyone else before.

The way the sun came in through my kitchen window, shining down on us in a pleasant manner, and the messy sheets that laid on the floor of the bedroom. The cold hardwood floor that my feet stood upon, the same outfit I had on the day before, the soft fur of Tabu as he rubbed up against my leg.

Her eyes rolled awake due to the somber morning light that shinned its early rays over her pale skin. Turning to her side she thought back to the night before- the stars, the  kind touches, sweet kisses, and tender hugs…that night the two hand only innocently shared a bed. Embracing each others presences, it was harmony. When they chose to head back to her apartment it was very late, the two were exhausted and simply dropped into a substantially relentless slumber on the unmade bed.

Punk was still sound asleep, not that Addie minded much. She studied his motionless features and traced his jaw line softly with her thumb. The blankets were raveled around their enervated frames, while she now wore his favorite sweat pants and a pair of green socks while Charlie was in only his boxers. 

Adelaide to cold to sleep in her undergarments, unlike her boyfriend who seemed to see no other way to sleep comfortably. The morning was a peaceful one, and it was certainly one Adelaide would not soon forget. The man next to her was simply pristine in every way imaginable.

The tall brunet haired man started at the time on his shitty iPhone. The plane would soon be landing, and finally they’d get their first embrace. The crowds of people picked at his anxiety as the chatter and booming sounds echoed through the spacious building. Gnawing at his lower lip his blue eyes shifted from the phone to entrance where the passengers on the plane would enter. 

Not a soul knew his name in the airport, no one knew who he was or who he was waiting for, but he was most definitely the most anxious. He tapped his foot against the dark blue carpeted floor and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Any moment now,” he thought impatiently. Finally, a woman’s voice called on the intercom the flight number that had landed. Standing up from the uncomfortable gray seats he stood trying to suppress his over excited grin.

After a decent number of people of all types escaped through the doors he saw her. Sliding his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, adjusted his gray beanie, and brushed out the wrinkles of his red plaid shirt. In the brief moment of time there was a heavy impact that hit against his chest as he slipped to the ground. “Charlie!” the voice chimed out happily.

Opening his blue orbs he flushed red as he stood, helping her up as well. “H-Hey,” he said as if his breath was scarce. Punk stood their for a moment, in awe before pulling Adelaide into a tight hug while smiling. It was obvious to everyone else now who watched them, that they were a couple. Normally, the stares from others would’ve brought Punk into an annoyed tangent, but for the moment he didn’t care. 

I could hear the shower running when I came inside from the front door. The house was still, the pets asleep, a strong smell of coffee came from the kitchen. Papers and photographs scattered the floors and dinning room table. “I’m home!” my words sounded so hollow as the echoed through the wide rooms. Making my way up the stairs I could hear her clumsily knocking stuff down in the shower and cursing. 

Knock, knock, knock.

“Yo, what’s up?” she said from the other side of the door.

“Just wanted to let you know I’m home.”

“Oh, okay! I’ll be out in a few.”

I made my way to the bedroom and ran my hands over the disheveled bed. More papers scattered the floors and pencils that appeared to have been thrown across the room. Kneeling down I picked up the pencils, and began to neatly stack the papers that had tons of half finished, half erased, and scribbled out drawings over them.

Frowning, it was easy to figure out why she was in the shower again, since he had taken one earlier in the morning. Frustration; it’d eat away at her as she struggled to improve her design skills. I’d help him to the best of my ability, but she would forever be too hard on herself.

The shower stopped running.

Quickly I put the stuff down and waited for her to enter the bedroom. Adelaide's shoulders were pink from the scolding shower she took, and a fresh smell of mint from her shampoo was strong to my senses.

I watched as his mint colored hair dripped small droplets of water to the ground and her pale green eyes examined the neat stack of papers. “I’m not good going to pass,” she whimpered.