A charming person signing Blitz sent me some suggestions, so I chose one..! Because… I don't see William Regal in a slash… I'm used to write Punk as a top or read him that way but to HHH, no chance (hey Vince!)

Punk got out of the trainers' room, wincing and sighing. What a fucked up idea to put himself in a match with the new boss when he is an angry man… Nash really tried to break his back with his powerbomb and those pedigrees had got him all whacked. He slowly walked into the showers and waited for his muscles to relax under the warm water. God, Paul had been stiff tonight. Yet, it was fun to see Nash get laid out by that freaking huge sledgehammer. Old men and their respect, he got his pride and respect shoved up his ass. And Phil liked it, the Chicago native sighed; he'd lost and won tonight. He was frustrated. Of course, John Laurinaitis would be punished, Nash would be fired and he was pretty sure the Miz and R Truth would get what they deserved if he had his ways.

"Can't just relax under the shower, like everyone else now can you?" Paul Lesveque growled, limping on the warmed up tiles. He smiled like a predator ready to attack his prey with his dark blonde hair dripping on his broad should. Paul has reasons to feel confident, he had won this fight and remained COO, almighty and powerful at the top of their industry.

"If I stop thinking; I might get distracted enough for you to steal my brain and eat it, zombie man. Don't forget to kiss Laurinaitis' ass after that because he saved yours tonight. I see why Nash and you are friends, you're little dogs ready to do anything and lick any expensive boots to get where you want to go. That's pathetic, I have to say." Phil smirked, washing his torso and eternally chewing on his lip ring.

"I think people who refused to sign that damn petition must have realized by now what a big mistake it was to let you stay in the WWE… Savior, my ass… I do what is good for this business, you know that and you're just jealous. You skinny, ink addict little piece of shit!" The older man spat, his eyes darkened with fury. He took a few more steps as Punk had his eyes closed and a big grin on his face. Like he was able to sense the older man in front of him, the momentarily blinded man spoke.

"I'll never be jealous of what I'm not because I love what I am. I'm better, faster and more original than you guys dream to be. I speak for so many more people than you'll ever do. That's why I can go wherever I want and you will only get to the unemployment line after this. This is just a matter of time, everyone leaves and I stay." Phil opened his dark green eyes and cocked his head on the side.

Paul just lunged himself at the smaller man and they both hit the ground and started wrestling in water and blood just like they had in public a few minutes ago. Thing was, no one could stop them this time while they settled the scores. No boss, no referees, no boundaries.

Paul wasn't exactly fresh; the slashes on his back and side caused by the floor didn't help him but seemed to increase his anger. Now, his brain was in overload and he just knew what to do to calm it down. He would have to own his opponent, take over his body and break his mind like he had broken Nash's jaw with his sledgehammer.

He managed to pin the other man under him, his body warm and slippery wriggling in the thin level of water. He cupped his cock in his hand, squeezing just hard enough to make the other man moan slightly and stop fighting him; waiting for what came next.

"W-What the fuck are you doing, you're m-married! What is your precious Stephanie gonna say!" Phil gulped with difficulty. He could see that sinister grin widen despite his efforts to maintain him down while he kept his hand busy on his dick. Wriggling made things even worse as his shaft hardened more and more thanks to the gentler treatment it received and Punk hated it for reacting to this man in particular. Fighting someone in a ring was something but combating himself was losing in advance. He could refuse poison like alcohol, drugs and cigarettes because he was repulsed by it but sex was another problem he never got to solve.

"My wife told me to get your ass in any way I saw fit!" Paul detached the words for them to sink well in his opponent's scared mind. "So, you let me teach you a lesson or you won't be able to walk properly for the next three to four weeks… Your choice princess…"

The older wrestler pulled Phil against his chest and crushed their lips together leaving even more bruises on them and drawing more blood from him. Punk's brain didn't really register what he was doing but he knew he didn't want to fight anymore, that he couldn't fight.

He arched up to increase the contact with the body above him, moaning louder when the large palm worked on him again. Hunter laughed in his mouth and started rubbing his own length against his thigh until the younger man moved back, helping him to get harder.

All you could hear in the large stalls were whimpers, groans and the sound of the shower forgotten by the two enemies in their ferocious love making session. Blows were exchanged and they kept rolling back and forth on the floor. Punk found himself on top of Paul dying to get more of him. They exchanged a long glance, fighting their urges and losing against themselves before Phil bit the broad chest that was offered to him, drawing a cry of mixed pain and pleasure from the King of kings. He gave him a few others letting a trail of red marks until he got in sight of the huge member, leaking between the former champion's legs. Despite the amount of water, he could smell the strong scent coming from it but decided to tease him just a tad longer and licked his thigh while pushing his ring in the firm flesh.

He liked this ragged breath people had when pleasure was too much to take, that for him was a victory in itself. He slapped the other man's hand away and changed place to kneel completely between his legs and took him in his mouth, hating him but loving it. He moaned around the shaft, forcing his jaw to open wider and allow more of him inside. He pushed on the slit with the tip of his ring and swirled his tongue around the head to hear him groan some more.

There were no words, just violence when bigger man pulled grabbed him and kissed him again with all the rage he had in him and pinned him back down under him. He forced his thick fingers in his mouth.

"Don't bite and suck on them, boy!" Paul hissed as Phil licked and grazed him.

"I don't receive orders from you, fucker!" The younger man smirked. Fury overcame lust for a moment as Paul started fingering him wildly, just to see pain on his face. Punk grunted loudly, his features reflecting anything but his second city saint's confidence.

The older man's fingers came in and out fast, scissoring and stretching him roughly. The pain reminded him of his recklessness earlier tonight. He had underestimated his opponent twice tonight and it hurt. And it felt good to be inflicted this treatment, like electroshocks or at least he guessed.

Paul searched for his sweet spot, just to see himself control him. When he found it, he kept brushing his fingers on it to hear his wails reverberating on the white walls and in his ears. He slipped his fingers out of the flushed man, not able to wait any longer before replacing them with the head of his large cock. He pushed slowly but firmly to avoid coming too soon. He could feel Punk squirming uncomfortably at the intrusion but it didn't stop the Cerebral Assassin in his task.

"Does that hurt, Brooks? Wait… You haven't seen anything yet!" He whispered and buried himself to the hilt with a loud moan, his own pleasure accentuated by Phil's painful cries. The younger man had his eyes tightly shut as was other things in him. But even under unbelievable pain, he wouldn't give Hunter the satisfaction, he wouldn't cry, he wouldn't beg either.

Triple H started moving in him, not willing to wait any longer despite what he inflicted to his semi-willing partner. He couldn't move much at first the small and warm passage too dry to allow long thrusts but it would last longer that way and for that reason too, he smiled with his face even more darkened by the wet hair falling on it. The sounds were blocked in his head as the blood rushed through his veins, making his ears buzz. He took deep breaths through the nose as he kept pounding in the pale ass of the straight edge superstar.

Punk felt the pain fade away, the heat in him helping to forget the cold floor or even the beast tearing his body to shreds or at least his dignity. Pleasure was building inside of him like it was in his partner and that led him and his biggest enemy to agree on one thing: moving.

They started meeting thrusts for thrusts, rolling and bucking hips. Clashing their bodies together in weird positions under the water in the steamy and a little creepy bathroom. Punk didn't want to touch himself, even if he thought he would probably implode before the end of this thing.

The loud moans made the room hotter to the two men, heat rising inside of them as well. The movements weren't steady anymore; sex was messy and incredibly intense. Punk's prostate being hit with any thrust made him a squirming wailing mess practically crying in pleasure.

Paul was lost, his eyes fixed on this beautiful man underneath him, his brain momentarily out of service. He was overwhelmed by the billions of nerves stimulated on his body as he kept getting in and out the nice ass he'd conquered a few minutes ago.

Finally when both men thought they were about to lose their mind, Phil spilled his seed on Paul's stomach; the thick liquid almost unseen in this environment. His walls beautifully imprisoned Paul's cock, not giving him much of a choice other than coming hard and deep inside of Punk.

Both men laid there, in dirt and water; trying to catch their breath and analyze the last thirty minutes or so. The COO slowly slid out of his rival, adding more moans and groans at the long list and got back to his feet.

Punk grunted and did the same, ignoring the hand Paul extended to him.

"You think we're done?" He smirked; the arrogant and selfish self proclaimed best wrestler of the World was back. He winced a little when he saw the scratches and then shrugged; CM Punk didn't care about his appearance because he was himself and that was the only thing that mattered.

The young man limped out after grabbing his stuffs, not looking over his shoulder even once. When you were that good you never had regrets, right?

Paul sighed and rinsed himself before following the same path as his employee. He found a black, white and red merchandise t shirt laid on his bag. A reminder of the day where they'd both won. Of the day they'd both lost.

SHIT! Sorry but this was hard to pop out my head! Hope you liked it folks! Reviews deeply appreciated! Please? ^^