For CM Punk, the ability of getting a full night sleep was nothing but a glorified myth he never got to believe. It was like Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy, real when he was young, a fallacy when he grew up.
It was like this, for a very long time he has been cursed with a bad case Insomnia and as much as he wanted to cheat on her with Morpheus, he never got around to actually do it.
Yeah he would go to the bed every night and close his eyes like any human being living on Earth did, but if he was able to achieve a few quick sets of cat naps while he lay in bed, he would consider himself lucky.
So, it was true that he dozed off and sometimes he even blacked out… but before he could get the hang of it, he would wake up in the middle of the night feeling restless and with a curse on his lips.
That was what happened to him in that precise moment, he has been testing the murky waters of sleep… his mind drifting off to that sweet promise land until he felt it…
Not that it would be hard for him to feel something like that; after all asleep or awake, the movement Randy Orton pulled on him was meant to be felt.
Grunting and blindly searching for something to grab with his hands, the Straight Edge Superstar found only empty air and when he opened his eyes to look around he was already on the floor, his head hitting with a thud that hard place that was meant for his feet.
"What the fuck man?" He growled, laying flat on his back and feeling all the bones of his body screaming in protest.
"I warned you, you didn't listen to me."
At the sound of Randy's husky tone and the silent amusement that it carried, Punk snarled his lips and getting up to his feet he grabbed the edge of the mattress with both hands. It was dark and he could barely distinguish the things that surrounded him, but once he got a good grip on the mattress, he used all the strength a man in the condition of being half awake could muster and then he pulled hard at it.
The twin size mattress cooperated with him and even in the darkness that reigned over the room, he saw the silhouette of Orton sliding to the floor along with it.
"What the… what was that for?" Randy complained and in his still fussy mind, Punk tried to understand what was really going on.
He didn't have much luck, he just remembered that he went to bed, dozed off, woke up by the sound of Randy saying something and after mumbling an incoherence in response, he closed his eyes and tried to get at least one hour of sleep.
After that the next thing he could remember was falling to the floor on his back, courtesy of Randy pushing him off the bed.
"That's retaliation, you push me off the bed, I fucking put you out of bed too." Punk said through clenched teeth as he used his foot to kick Randy away.
It didn't work, the younger man just grabbed his foot and yanked at it, making Punk lose his balance and thus fall into the mattress that was now laying on the floor.
"You try to kick me once again and I'll rip your leg off."
The tone has been kind of menacing, but accommodating himself and blowing out a breath, the Chicago Native ignored what the other man just said, grabbed a pillow and covered his head with it.
"Fuck you, Orton."
He wasn't in the mood of arguing, he probably had a few cat naps on him left and now that he had the opportunity of catching up with a bit of sleep, he wasn't going to let Randy ruin it for him.
In the morning they could fight; Randy could bitch and throw his empty menaces and whatever he felt like it; but in that moment, all Punk cared about was to be left alone. "Tomorrow I'll find other ways to piss you off and then I'll give you a chance to rip my leg and my arms off… but just as long as you let me sleep right now."
"Oh so the princess wants to sleep, how cute. I don't know, maybe I would be more receptive to your request if you would grant the same to me."
"Uh?" He mumbled, opening his eyes and finding that his eyes were more adjusted to the darkness now. "Speak plain English because I'm not getting you."
Breathing in loudly, Randy shifted and then talked. "Sleep, you are not letting me sleep. You move too damn much."
"Oh… well I'm not moving now." Punk said while opening his eye, but now he doubted that sleep would come easy to him.
He had his chance and Randy blew it.
It was always like that, the minimal sound would always take him at an amazing speed out of that tranquil state of sleep and he honestly couldn't remember the last time he slept all through the night without any kind of interruption. It felt as if he has never done that and as things were going, he knew he wasn't going to get that wish granted while stuck in that stupid program.
Getting bitter about it, Punk turned from his position and lay flat on his back. He knew that he was taking too much space in such a restricted place and making sure to throw his hand over Randy's face, he smirked.
"Oh I'm sorry, was that your face? I must have moved while I dozed off."
At that, Randy pushed his hand away and grunted; on his part Punk felt an odd sense of satisfaction because whatever his reason, Randy pushed him off the bed and woke him up, and now that he couldn't go back to sleep it was only fair that he returned the favor.
To his surprise, his partner didn't complain and remained in place, laying on his side and keeping his silence.
For a while Punk stood still as well, listening to Randy breathing peacefully against his shoulder. That was how close they were and for a reason that he couldn't grasp, the current champion tilted his head to the left to take a look at him.
The younger man was laying by his side with his eyes closed and even in the darkness he could see the outline of his features; his lips were slightly pouted in that way of his that made him look petulant, his cheeks were covered with a light stubble and if he squinted his eyes he could even see his eyelashes almost touching his cheekbones.
It was ridiculous and to a certain point unfair, but Randy Orton looked like a dream come true even while doing the most mundane of acts, sleep.
Thing that made him think of course of those kisses they shared at the woods. Those had been some nice smooches and why not admit it? He wouldn't really mind getting a few mores…
This was Randy Orton after all, and jerk or not, who wouldn't like being at the receiving end of his attention?
Pushing the inside of his cheek with his tongue, the Straight Edge Superstar shook his head and closed his eyes; thinking about Randy Orton in the middle of the night while said man was pressed to him in a twin size bed was not a great way to achieve sleep; quite the contrary, thinking about those things made him feel the other man even more close than he actually was and that way he would never get to sleep.
Grunting, Punk elbowed his partner hard on the chest to wake him up and then he tried to put some distance between them. "You are touching me, I don't like when people touch me while I sleep."
Inhaling deeply, Randy cleared his throat and Punk felt him shifting around. Not that it helped, the space was too reduced and no matter how much they tried to, they couldn't evade touching each other.
"Your feet are still touching mine." He said in a sing-alike tone while pushing Randy's feet away from his. But like he said, not that it mattered, the entire length of Orton's body was still brushing against him and even if he succeeded in the feet department, there was no way in making all of him stop touching him.
"If you wouldn't have lost the damn doll we would be sleeping in different beds right now, so if anyone should be complaining here it's me. Besides you are laying on your back and thus you are taking too much space."
"Yeah yeah, blame it all on me…"
"You could also take the floor, no one would touch you there."
"You wish Randal," Punk said turning to his side, but instead of turning around so that his back would face Orton, he turned in a way that they were now face to face.
Blinking his eyes open, Punk found himself staring into the deep eyes of his partner and for some unknown reason, Randy arched an eyebrow.
On his part, Punk tilted his head up and closed his eyes once again.
Oh… but he didn't think he would go to sleep anytime soon, not at all. Even with his eyes closed he could feel the intensity of Randy's eyes looking at him and well, since their bodies were still touching even if it was slightly, he could feel the heat of his body emanating in huge waves towards him.
It was almost too much, their knees were bumping together, their feet found each other once again under the blankets and if he concentrated hard enough, he was sure that he could feel the other man breathing against his face.
By then he was more awake than ever and he could swear that the tension was so thick that could feel himself choking with it… he was even considering taking the floor like Orton suggested and wait until the first rays of light hit his face and enlightened his mind.
But then, before he could even move, Randy extended a hand and placed it over his hip. It just lay there, half his fingers resting against his sweat pants and the others touching his bare skin because his shirt has ridden a little high up his stomach.
Punk didn't react to that chaste touch but for a few seconds he held his breath. But it was nothing, Randy's fingers were not even moving or twitching against him and realistically speaking, he has touched him more intimately than that.
After all they had been in the ring in many occasions and a hand on his hip was nothing compared to the touches shared in a ring…
Ah, but it wasn't the same. In the ring Punk was in his element, it was a dance he was used to dance and no move he would make or feel inside the square circle could compare to those of being in the confinements of a bed with a Randy Orton that was only in his boxers…
Opening his eyes to find that Randy had his closed, Punk cleared his throat and pursed his lips. "Randy, you are touching me…"
At those words, Randy blinked his eyes open to stare deeply into the olive green depths of Punk's eyes. For a while the two of them remained like that, staring at each other in the darkness of their room.
It was ridiculous, and as a way to break the spell they were both submerged into, Punk said the first thing that came into his mind.
"Did you know that if you throw a boomerang that never comes back, it is because it was no boomerang at all but a stick? It would probably be a stick with a curve or something… I'm not sure, but you know… no boomerang…"
Snorting and knitting his brows, Randy's lips curved slightly into a smile. "What?"
Punk looked at him and acting on an impulse, he got a bit nearer to him. "Nothing…" And then, without any more preambles, he pressed his lips against Randy and kissed him.
The response was immediate, Randy tilted his head to the other side, he pulled Punk a little closer to him and then he added more pressure into the kiss.
Now, if asked later, Punk wouldn't know what to answer if someone came to him asking him the reason why he kissed Orton; he would just say that he was near, that it was the middle of the damn night and why the fuck no? he just wanted to kiss him.
And apparently, Orton has been wanting to kiss him too because as soon as their lips meet he tugged at the Chicago Natives lips with his teeth and then he ran his tongue across his bottom lip.
Getting lost in sensation, Punk made his own tongue dart forward until it found Randy's and while laying in a mattress that was in the floor, they started to kiss long, deep and as time started to pass, eagerly.
Now… Punk couldn't lie about it, he was enjoying the moment more than he should and he even went as far as to roll over to trap Orton underneath him. The younger man complied without protest, dragging the hand that has been curving around Punk's hip bone up along his ribcage.
With their tongues dueling and their breaths mingling, the two WWE wrestlers and supposed to be rivals melted against each other, kissing as if there was no tomorrow and no regrets… as if giving into each other was the most natural thing in the world.
And to Punk it felt like it was natural; he kissed with abandon, he allowed the other man to kiss him however he wanted to and when Randy rolled him over to his back so he could be the one on top, he just groaned against his mouth and moved his hands to his partner's slender waist.
Once his hands were there he let them run smoothly up his spine, and when Randy pushed his hips against the Chicago native so that he could feel his erection poking against his stomach through the thin fabric of his boxer, he knew he was lost.
After all he was only human, his flesh was weak and he was bound to succumb.
Engaged in the moment, Punk felt Randy end the kiss so he could descend his lips down his jaw and towards his neck, tracing a warm path with his tongue that sent a shiver down his spine.
"Are you aware that if I contact Miz's lawyers I could file a lawsuit against you. Sexual assault I would call it." Punk said absent mindedly, a smirk forming on his lips as he felt Randy biting lightly on that sweet spot in his throat were his pulse was beating.
At his words Randy hummed. "Really? Then I wonder what would they say when I tell them that you were the one kissing me first."
Moving his hands to the nape of the younger man's neck, Punk grabbed his head and made him face him. "I'll deny it, you can't prove shit." With that said, he pulled Orton's face towards his and kissed him again.
Without letting go of the kiss, Randy slid against Punk's body until his erection was nestled with that of the other man's, and even though the two of them were closed, Punk couldn't help but to feel himself growing even more harder…
Lowering his hands to the other man's ass, Punk pushed him even more closer… hell, he even went as far as sneaking his restless fingers into Randy's boxers so he could touch his skin freely.
Moaning against his lips, Randy grinded his hips even harder against the man underneath him, creating a friction that made Punk feel out of his mind. He was as hard as he was going to get and he wanted to feel more… he almost needed it…
But then, as things started to escalate in intensity, the door of their room began to open and out of instinct, Punk pushed Randy off of him so hard that he even fell off the mattress.
"What the fuck, Punk?" Randy mumbled, probably unaware of the reason why Punk pushed him away like that.
But he didn't need to ask, because a second after Punk so rudely pushed him, the voice of Mandy filled the room like a drill digging into a brain. "Wake up and shine, it's a new day and a new challenge. Be ready in ten minutes and don't forget to bring your sneakers."
With that said, the host closed the door without even taking a peek inside and left.
"Fuck this shit… that door needs a lock." Punk said while taking a look at Randy. The other man was laying on his stomach, lips pursed and tongue pushing hard against his cheek.
To Punk he didn't look happy, in fact he looked kind of pissed off. Not that he blamed him, with the sudden interruption his cock went almost immediately back to its limp state and he was going to get ahead and anticipate that he would be suffering a mild case of blue balls.
But realistically speaking, the interruption was almost a blessing. He didn't need to get into that shit with Orton, oh hell no!
But then again, he was about to leave wrestling for good in a couple of weeks and thus Randy would become a phantom in the past. So… who said that he couldn't indulge in the promise of those kisses and those touches even if it was just once?
Licking his lips and taking in a deep breath, Punk snorted at the way his thoughts were going.
"What's so damn funny?" Randy asked without moving from his spot. His tone had a hint of annoyance and that made Punk snorted once again.
"Nothing is funny, come on." With that said, he got to his feet and then he offered a hand to help Randy up.
Randy accepted the help, and when he was standing in front of him, Punk noticed that he was still sporting quite a bulge inside his boxers.
It wasn't exactly as he has felt it, but by what he could see Randy's mood wasn't entirely gone. He was just half erect.
Biting on his lips and arching an eyebrow, Punk sighed. "Alright… um, I think we should get ready."
Randy looked at him darkly and then he shook his head. "Yeah, you go ahead, I'll be in a minute."
Nodding and smiling, Punk looked down to Randy's discomfort and then he chuckled. "What, don't tell me that you are going to jerk off. We have ten minutes… well, maybe seven."
"I'm not going to fucking jerk off, you ass. You know, forget it…" He said, grabbing for his pants and a shirt to put it on. Then he went into the bathroom and without closing the door, he started to brush his teeth.
Punk watched him with a smirk gracing his face, waiting for him to finish so he could go and wash his face and teeth too. But as he waited, he couldn't help but to bit his lip ring into his mouth while thinking that he was up to a very interesting day…
TBC