[A/N]

Many thanks to TheGirlInThePinkScarf, Shirozero, jenimik, RKO-flavored-skittles, EnvisionVerse, Bluestar711, john cena good gurl, waldron82 and DreuxFizz and the anonymous guest for reviewing. Itr's your reviews that keep this story going :-)

Chapter Dedication: EnvisionVerse (For being an amazing reader in almost every one of my stories.)

Song of the chapter: Radioactive-Imagine Dragons

(10)

For the umpteenth time tugging the hem of my t-shirt down to cover the hardness in my pants, I made my way outside. Papa John was at the driving seat, taking charge of the wheel while John waited beside the opened passenger door, kicking pebbles on the ground with hands shoved deep inside his pockets. Talk about awkwardness. Clearing my throat to get his attention, I eyed the old truck.

"Get in the middle," John gestured towards the seat, the tone of his voice not leaving me any space to protest. After giving one last wave at Dad who was watching from the doorway I got in, and John followed, squeezing in with me and Papa John. See, though it was a three person seat, John was twice the size of me, and Papa John also was not a small man. So I was the one ended in the middle, the two bodies at my sides squeezing the life out of me.

I tried not to gasp, but my panting just gave me up. I hugged myself tightly, attempting to get more space. Papa John started the engine, pulling the truck to the driveway and turned to where their house was. Noticing that I was uncomfortable, John spoke up.

"Sit on my lap," he patted his upper thighs, inviting me to sit on him. Did I look like a girl? Huffing, I shook my head. "Sit here or die with loss of air."

Just at that time Papa John pulled up the gear, his elbow hitting my ribs. I gasped out holding my side. "Oh dear, are you okay?" he called out, glancing at me worriedly. I nodded, gritting my teeth as the throbbing on my ribs subsided.

"I told you so," John mumbled, shaking his head. Struggling to stop the blush that was threatening to appear on my cheeks, I scoffed, scowling at John. Then I swatted his hands that were folded on his lap away, pushing myself off the seat. I sat on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck to keep my balance. His strong arms snaked around my waist, locking them together and pulling me closer against his chest.

"John," I hissed, trying to pull away. I didn't want to put up a show in front of Papa John. He ignored me, again pulling my body against his. Realizing that there was no way to escape from his grasp I gave a defeated look, slumping against his chest.

"So," Papa John started a conversation. "You two are dating?"

A moment of silence passed before John answered for me. "Not exactly."

"Hmm," his Dad hummed, a thoughtful look casting over his sapphire eyes. "You better work this out. I actually didn't see this…'thing' between you and Randy coming. But… there's no one else other than Randy that I want to see you spending your life with, John."

John didn't say anything, but I felt his body tense underneath me. His eyes were glaring a hole through the glass shutter. I raised my hand and touched his cheek with my fingertips. His gaze softened as they focused on me and he gave a crooked smile, sighing softly. I laid my head on his shoulder, looking at Papa John. "We will, Papa John, we will." John's arms tightened around me and I let my eyes close.

A contented sigh left my nostrils as John started to rub my sides. His hands felt so good. Imagine them doing things to other parts of my-

My eyes snapped open as his erection pressed against my ass. I looked at John, whose eyes were closed, head resting back against the head rest. Papa John turned the truck from a corner, making my body press against John's hard. I heard him moan softly as my ass was grinded against his hard-on accidentally. Thankfully, his moan was only heard by me. A devilish thought invaded my mind and I grinned to myself cunningly.

I shifted my position on his lap, so my ass was directly pressing against his hard shaft. He growled low in his throat but I kept the innocent face like I wasn't doing anything wrong. I knew I was torturing him as I pushed my ass on his crotch, but what fun having sex was without a little bit of teasing. I am the master of teasers and if I didn't use this moment as an advantage to wind up John, I was not Randy Orton. Whenever the truck turned around a corner or bumped on something that was on the road, I used those times to roll my hips and grind on John's groin, so it wouldn't look suspicious to Papa John.

I was more than grateful that the old truck created a loud roar as it drove, so John's pained and pleasured grunts were only heard by me. His fingers dug to my sides painfully, but I was stopping at none of those. Wanting to hear more of John's moans I lightly bounced on his crotch. He cursed under his breath, yanking me so hard that my back crashed against his chest.

"S-stop it, Orton," he growled, his hot breath swirling behind my ear. Having his lips so close to the soft spot behind my ear caused a light shudder run down my body. Composing myself and deciding to ignore John's pleading, I swayed my hips forward to push it backwards again. Only it didn't happen. One of his hands left my sides and landed on my own hardened crotch, groping me through the fabric of my black denim jeans. My lips parted with a gasp but before the sound escaped I managed to shut my mouth. I grabbed his wrist from both of my hands, trying to pull his hand away from my groin.

God have mercy on me, this man was stronger than I expected. I wasn't able to move an inch of him. He started to rub me through my jeans, his thumb roughly brushing over the tip of my cock. My back arched slightly and my crotch pushed against his hand. My mind was screaming for him to stop, yet my body rocked on his hand ever so lightly. My head was thrown back on his shoulder and my eyes were closed as a wave of pleasure coursed through my veins.

"How does it feel like to be teased, Randy?" John whispered harshly, biting down on my earlobe. "Does it feel good?"

All I could do was moan. And the moan was muffled behind John's other hand, which he had managed to clasp over my mouth in time. My eyes opened, but they rolled to the back of my head as John's hand travelled lower and grabbed my balls. It was a miracle that we haven't still been caught by Papa John. Suddenly, John's hands left me. Panting lightly I tried to focus around me, to take a notice of where I was.

"Why are we here?" John asked from his Dad, giving a confused look.

I shifted on John's lap to get a better look at outside. My legs were still trembling like I had fever. We were at a bar, and from the expensive look at it, I guessed that it was Wade's father's bar.

"Mr. Barrett wants to meet you, John," Papa John got out of the vehicle, closing the door behind him. I moved away from John's lap, waiting for him to get out first. Only, he didn't.

"I don't want to meet him," John snapped, crossing his arms above his chest.

"John," his Dad said in a warning tone. "He said it was important. If I had told you that we were coming here, you wouldn't have agreed to come with me. That's why I didn't tell you. Now come inside."

"No."

I wondered what that man has got to do with Johnny. If he was trying to get John into the whores-selling and gambling things like I heard he did, he won't have a chance at it. I won't let him corrupt my John like that. When I felt eyes on me, I had to look up. Papa John was pleading with me with his eyes, and just like I would lower myself to John whenever he flashed those eyes on me, I just had to help the old man.

I placed a hand on John's shoulder. "Hey, let's go inside."

"Are you insane?" John glared at me. It took so much strength to not flinch away from his tone, but I begged with my eyes.

"I'll be with you," I said, squeezing down on his shoulder reassuringly. "He won't try anything."

Jaws clenching and unclenching, he stared at me for a moment and then turned his eyes to his father. "Alright. Let's get this over as soon as we can, so I can go home."

Papa John sighed gratefully as John and I passed him. He took a hold of my hand and squeezed it gently, and before John noticed, I squeezed back. I couldn't ignore Papa John, no matter what he did. We entered the bar, loud country music blasting through speakers the moment we stepped through the wooden doors. I winced; this type of music was so not my cup of tea. The place smelled like any other bar, cigar smoke, alcohol and sweat. Wrinkling my nose, I looked down when someone took a hold of my hand, intertwining our fingers.

John's grip tightened as his sapphire eyes roamed around the bar, and mine travelled with him. Catching some people casting intense and wild stares at me and John, I tried to pretend like I didn't see any of them, but the shiver that made my body shudder gave me away. John pulled me closer to him, and we made our way behind Papa John who led the way. When we approached the counter where the drinks were served, he asked us to wait while he fined where Mr. Barrett was.

As soon as he was out of sight, I tugged John's hand. He looked close to faint, and I couldn't help but worry about him. "Hey," I waited until he looked at me. "It's going to be alright."

"I…I don't know, Randy," he swallowed thickly, he Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I don't feel good."

"Are you not feeling well?" I asked, resting my hand on his forehead to check his temperature. Shaking his head, he grabbed my hand by the wrist and pulled it away from his face.

"No, no," he attempted a smile. "I wasn't meaning it like that. There's…. this strange twisting feeling in my guts… that I feel like something bad will happen."

Now that I mentioned it, I was feeling the same way. My stomach clenched as I felt more stares on us. There was something not good in this bar, and I couldn't quite grasp what it was. Not knowing what to say, I gave an uncomfortable look to John and sat down on the stool beside me. I tugged John's hand again and he sat on the stool near mine, his eyes never leaving the crowd in the bar and his hand never leaving mine.

"Look who's finally here," a familiar voice called and I turned my head to look at Wade. Flashing that annoying smirk he ran a hand through his auburn hair, fixing up his shirt. My guts twisted as I looked at him. I didn't know why, but I just had to look away from him. "I thought you'd never come. Here," he placed two cans of beer on the counter for John and me. I eyed it suspicious. "Oh calm down, beautiful. It's not spiked."

Sending a small glare I snatched the beer away from the counter and gulped down a few mouthfuls. It was almost finished when I placed it on the counter again, so Wade placed another next to the nearly empty one. I took the new can to my hands, looking at John who was sipping his own slowly.

"You work here?" I asked, glancing at Wade who was drying up some glasses. He raised a brow at me and shook his head.

"Nope," his accent was heavy and kind of appealing. "I just come here some days for some fun."

Now I didn't know what he meant, but I actually didn't care. I took a gulp from the cold beer, the taste lingering in my mouth as I swallowed the liquid down. Even though I was having a slightly strong drink, I could tell that Barrett's eyes were on me. Not that I cared, but it made me uncomfortable. John hasn't spoken a word, and I didn't want to interact with him in front of Wade.

"John," Papa John called a small glass in his hand as he approached us. "Come on. He's over there. He wants to meet you….alone," he casted me an apologetic look, which I shrugged away. But I gave one last assuring squeeze to John, a final comfort. Sending me a one last look that said 'be safe' he dragged himself behind his father, gripping the beer can in his hand tightly.

I took another sip from the can and turned to Wade, the only company I had even though I didn't appreciate him. "Is there any chance that you might know why your father wanted to meet John?" he looked at me over his shoulder as his back was to me, and shrugged.

"He asked me to tell you that he would like to talk to John sometime," he threw the dirty towel he had in a basket and took another clean one off a hanger, wiping his hands in it. "That's why I invited both of you. I was pretty sad when you didn't show up." He placed a hand over his heart, mocking a sad expression. I snorted.

Finishing my second beer I rested it on the table. Since John was gone, and I was alone, that uncomfortable gut feeling I had had become worse. I fidgeted on the stool as my stomach clenched again. Nausea rolled inside me and I swayed on the stool. I grabbed my head as a spinning sensation took over my mind, my sight blurring. I didn't drink that much to be drunk and I felt like I was having an early hangover. I blinked hard, trying to snap away the blur that was clouding my sight.

"Are you okay?" I heard Wade ask, but there was some kind of a hint in his voice that I didn't recognize. I tried to nod but failed terribly, as my head started to pound. "Let me help you to your vehicle," I felt arms wrapping around my waist which I assumed was Wade's. At the time I was grateful for what Wade was doing. I heavily leaned against him, and he silently helped me across the bar to outside. Then my feet left the ground, and my eyes fluttered close.

The next time Randy's eyes opened, it was just as his back hit a soft surface, which dangerously felt like a bed. He tried to move, but his body was numb, he could not control or move any of his arms or his legs, not even could he turn his head to the side. He blinked, seeing nothing but the white ceiling above him.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this moment?" the familiar heavy accent of wade's voice reached his ears, but he was unable to strain his neck to take a look at the British man. "Since the day I met you, Adam…"

Inside Randy's head was swirling, he couldn't focus on anything as the pounding in his head increased. "Or would you prefer me calling you…. The Viper, Randy Orton?"

Something clicked inside Randy's mind, but before he could concentration that fact, he felt the hem of his shirt being tugged. And the next second it was yanked over his head, roughly. "You know," he listened hard to hear what Wade said. "You look damn good on red," Wade grunted as he unbuttoned Randy's jeans. "But you look plain better naked. Oh, looks what we got," his voice was high pitched. "A naughty boy without underwear, begging to be fucked. What a slut…"

Randy slowly raised his hands attempting to push his attacker away, but whatever he had in his blood had weakened him to the point where his attacker needed him. He whimpered, pushing at Wade's chest weakly as the man completely yanked his jeans away from his body. "Impressive," he hear Wade mutter under his breath. The look he was giving Randy was blindingly intense, and Randy couldn't help but mewl in dread. He was pretty sure by now that he was drugged, and that he had no way out of this sick fuck. He writhed under Wade, trying to squirm out of Wade's way, but his moves only made Wade's cravings for him grow.

"Be still," he whispered against Randy's ear, loving the scared whimper that escaped the much smaller man's lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk straight for weeks, Randy."

Randy's breath hitched as he felt Wade's member probing his entrance. He struggled as much as he can with his vulnerable body, but Wade was sober, which meant that Randy was compared nothing against him. He groaned painfully as Wade slammed inside him with one swift thrust. Since it was without preparation, his walls clenched painfully around Wade's shaft, trying to adjust to their normal expansion. His nails dug to Wade's shoulders, as pain shot from his abused anus. Wade didn't wait until his walls adjust to his length. He moved his hips, thrusting in and out of the man he lusted after a long time.

Randy's silken tunnel was nearly choking his dick to death, but the waves of pleasure that flowed down his body was too enjoyable to him. The painful groans Randy gave when Wade ripped his precious prize apart were an added bonus to him. Never in his life had Wade found a man or a woman who owned a tight tunnel that clenched around his shaft and gave such an overwhelming sensation like Randy's. He would take out as much as he could from Randy in the limited time he had.

Wade rolled his hips, feeling his length heating up to match the temperature in Randy's walls. His nails dug into Randy's hips, tearing his warm skin and leaving scars as he continued to pounce randy's whole. He felt the walls tearing apart just like Randy's skin. He sighed contentedly as blood trickled from the tunnel and fall on to his shaft. Randy whimpered again, the small groan sounding how pathetic and weak he was. Jolts of pain shot through his lower body, and his mind was taken over by the pain and agony, he could focus on nothing but. He wished it was over soon, as he wriggled weakly underneath Wade.

Words couldn't describe how Wade Barrett felt at the time, breaking into Randy Orton. Countless times he had seen the beauty reject him simply with his eyes, but Wade Barrett could care less. In the end, no one had managed to escape from Barrett until he got what he wanted. He felt his balls tighten and heat pool around the tip of his cock. A few more poundings and he shot his seed deep within Randy, filling his silken tunnel with cum, mixing with blood. Groaning in satisfaction, Barrett pulled out, already missing the tight heat around his shaft.

He grinned wickedly at the trembling man, casting one look at his naked body.

My eyes snapped open, and I sat straight on the bed, only to fall back on it.

Fucking dream.

A thin coat of sweat was covering my body, and I was tangled in white sheets. The pounding headache in my head dulled, slowly subsiding as I continued to breathe in and out softly, though my heart was racing inside my chest. I turned my head, to see John sleeping peacefully beside me. My whole body felt like someone had run a car over it, and I couldn't feel my legs at all. Groaning softly I turned my back to John, sliding out of the bed carefully without waking him up. I was in my jeans, and it felt painfully tight. Not to mention I was sweating profusely. Feeling itchy and sticky, I stumbled to the bathroom. Quietly shutting the door behind me, I unbuttoned my jeans, feeling the waistline of my jeans brushing against the skin on my waist, creating a burning sensation. Lowering my jeans I switched on the light in the bathroom, going to the mirror.

Taking a hold of the mirror frame to balance myself I turned to my side. The beating in my heart stopped as I touched the fingernail marks on my waist, red and painfully burning as I fingered them. With shaking hands I peeled the jeans away from my body, standing fully naked in front of the mirror.

I felt like screaming from the top of my lungs.

My legs threatened to gave out under me. Hands trembling so hard and a sob escaping from my lips, I touched the half dried liquid that appeared too stuck to my inner thighs. I raised my hand to my eyes, seeing and recognizing blood and semen.

The dream was, after all, not a dream at all…

Shocker? That's me baby!