Pushing the inside of his cheek with the tip of his tongue and tilting his head lazily to the side, the Chicago Native known as CM Punk furrowed his brow in confusion as he walked one step behind Randy Orton.

Now, in the solitude of the woods there was no one around to look at either one them, but if by chance someone came and ran into that unlikely duo, he or she would notice at first glance the way the dark haired man's eyes narrowed to slits and of course, the look of puzzlement that settled on his face.

But Punk wasn't even aware that he was portraying with his features the doubts that started to dance inside his head, and that was just because he was too busy wondering what the hell he was doing?

Was he willingly following Randy Orton towards the lake so they could do God only knew what over there? Really?

Snorting and lifting a hand to his face so that his fingers could pull lightly at his lip ring, the current WWE Champion shook his head.

Yeah, he probably lost his mind sometime during that ridiculous group therapy Vince had forced on all of them because he was definitely doing that.

Never mind that this was Randy Orton, a man he didn't particularly like and a man that probably didn't have him in his favorite people's list.

"What's so funny?" Orton asked, his voice coming off as unusually laid back as he turned around to face his partner. While he asked that, he kept walking, his back to the path ahead and his eyes on Punk.

Humming, Punk shrugged. His eyes were settled deep into the greyish blues starting back at him and deciding that whatever was meant to happen would happen, he dropped his hand to his side.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about a couple of things."

"Really?" Orton asked in a dark whisper, his own head tilting a bit to the right. "Things like what?"

"Just things…" Not wanting to precipitate things because really, for all he knew Orton only wanted to clean up the sweat and stink off his body and nothing more, Punk blew out a breath as his legs carried him further and further into the woods. "So have you thought about what Mike said back there, about teaming up with them and splitting the money?"

"No." The other man replied and even though the answer has been plain and simple, Punk was able to read a hint of amusement on his voice.

"Well I have and I think it's a good option. I mean something is better than nothing, right?"

"Now look at that, I never thought you were a conformist."

Arching an eyebrow, Punk saw that Randy wasn't moving anymore and he halted as well, stopping when he was only a step away. "What can I say, there are sometimes in life when you just have to settle for what you have at hand."

"I don't know… I don't trust those two. Did you see them back there? When no one is watching they are all over each other and when there's a crowd they act as if they can't stand each other. I'm just not feeling it when it comes to them…"

"Ah, I thought John was your friend."

Licking his lips, Randy smiled. "He is and I would trust him in any other occasion; but let's be honest, you can't really trust a man's judgment when he's trying to get a piece of ass and something tells me he wants a nice piece out of that Miz kid. As for the Miz… I don't trust him and I don't like him."

Lifting his head and folding his arms to his chest, Punk nodded. Before going to the program, he couldn't remember ever talking to Orton about anything that wasn't an upcoming match and he was oddly enjoying this side of him.

The man was honest to a point where it was almost brutal and as he was finding out, even when he wasn't much the talking type, when Orton did talk he showed that he was very aware of the things that happened around him.

But that wasn't all, he kind of liked the glint the younger man had in his eyes when he looked at him and why not, he liked the way the man looked and kissed…

Shaking his head as if trying to remember himself, Punk cleared his throat. "Right, right… and what about you, should you be trusted?"

Smiling in a way that his pointy eye teeth were showing, Randy blinked slowly. "You can trust that I don't want a piece of Mizanin's ass."

Humming, Punk just sucked his lip ring into his mouth.

"So that's one thing, what's the other one?" Orton asked, his eyes never leaving Punk's olive green ones.

"The other what?"

"You said you were thinking about a couple of things, what's the other one?"

"Ah," Punk chuckled, reassuming his walking and passing right by Orton. When he was three steps past him, he felt the younger man following him and he waited until they were almost at the lake to respond. "I was just wondering how the fuck are we supposed to get really cleaned up if we can't even take off our pants to get in the lake. Haven't you thought about it? We are chained up and with these things it's impossible to get in there without getting them all wet. Now I don't know about you but I'm not looking forward to sleep in the open with my pants soaking wet."

When he finished talking, he took another step and feeling like he was being yanked back, he almost fell face first into the dirt.

"Hey," He complained, looking back and taking notice that he hadn't been yanked back, it was just that Randy stopped walking and his lack of movement made the chain pull him backwards.

"What are you planning to do in that lake that wearing your pants is such an inconvenience?"

At the question and the tone Randy used to address him, Punk's lips curved into a grin. "Well bathe of course, to start… what about you?"

Snorting and running his fingers down his jaw, Orton's eyes traveled down Punk's body. It was weird, but it was almost as if he was checking him out and the Straight Edge Superstar remembered the words John said to him the other day, that Orton liked him…

Sure, not that the information came as a complete surprise, not after the little moment that happened between them that morning and the kisses they shared the day before.

"Why, same as you, Punk." With that said, Randy's eyes returned to the other man's face and he pursed his lips. If he didn't know any better, Punk would believe that face screamed innocence.

Ah, but the look on those eyes were telling him a different story and Punk had no other choice than to shake his head and turn back again. "Rad, let's get this over with then."

Walking to the lake and finding that there was a small canopy with a few essentials underneath it, the two men walked there and inspected what they had.

Among the things there was soap, shampoo, fresh clothes and as Punk proudly pointed out, pants. He found it amusing because he was sure that he has been the first one to notice that they couldn't change into new pants without tearing the ones they had on and then, they would be unable to put clean ones.

That was something Mandy and Pete clearly overlooked and he was going to make sure to tell them so.

It was when he was grabbing the things he needed that Punk saw out of the corner of his eye that Randy started to take off his shirt. Once off he threw it away and then he immediately went to kick off his sneakers…

Now, the Chicago native has seen Orton wearing a hell of a lot less that a pair of cargo pants before, but for some reason seeing him like that made him wonder about what he was doing again.

But maybe the thing was not in the visuals, it was all in the fact that he could feel Randy looking at him with all the intensity of his penetrating eyes and believe it or not, that made him felt a bit self-conscious.

He was still to take off his own shirt and by the way he was looking at him, he knew that Orton meant to watch him do it.

Now, the current Champ has never suffered from lack of self-esteem, he knew he didn't have the best physique in the world but he also knew he wasn't that bad. Sure, he couldn't cut for shit and more often than not he would chant in his mind that he was awfully fat while running; but at the same time he knew that the ridiculous time he spent at the gym had assured him a toned body that wasn't SO bad.

Overall, the way he looked didn't bother him most of the time, after all he couldn't afford to let it get to him when he made a living out of going out in public while exposing his not so perfect but drug free body to everyone that cared to look.

Ah, but Randy… the man was on an entirely different level… he was physically perfect and seeing him shirtless was making him think that life was not fair.

"Are you going to stand there all day long?" Randy asked, his voice back at being monotonous and bored.

Rolling his eyes, Punk took his shirt off and grabbing a bar of soap, he made it to the lake with Randy on his tracks.

Once the water was up to his waist he stopped, submerged the soap underneath the surface and then he pulled it out to start rubbing it to his chest.

He did it almost angrily, dragging the now slippery bar across his chest and then to his stomach.

"You are going to make that thing disappear in a matter of nothing." Randy said, walking closer to Punk and taking the soap into his own hand.

At that, Punk blinked slowly and pursed his lips, watching as Randy started to leather himself with his soap. "Couldn't have you grabbed one for your own? I mean I don't know if you noticed, but I was kind of using that."

Without answering back, Randy looked into the other man's eye and as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he gathered a nice amount of soap in his hand and started to rub it against Punk's stomach.

With his breath stopping for a second, Punk looked down at the way Randy's hand moved against him. "What are you doing?"

"Bathing…"

"Oh okay, because if it was something else I would have to ask you to stop. You know, I don't usually allow guys get his hands all over me the first time we bathe together if it's not for cleaning purposes only."

Arching an eyebrow and flashing him the shadow of a smile, Randy's hand slid up to his chest and then slowly underneath his chin. He did it without saying a word and while it happened, Punk refused to break the eye contact.

Now, it was true that the touching wasn't too forward, but he couldn't deny that it wasn't completely chaste either and as Randy kept doing his hands all over his flesh, Punk could already feel his body reacting to the moment.

In a way it was a good thing that he was still wearing his pants, because the last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself.

So that way, Randy used the soap to clean Punk's chest, stomach and neck. But when he was smoothing the older man's shoulders, Punk grabbed the soap once again and started to reciprocate the favor.

He did it while flashing his patented crooked grin and damn, if watching Randy's perfect body wasn't tempting enough, touching him was a whole different thing. His flat stomach felt as if it was made of steel, his chest broad and strong but yet smooth and nope, he couldn't remember ever feeling his mind getting so clouded only with a little bit of touching.

If he didn't put his mind where it should be, he was going to…

Before he could finish that trace of thought, Randy leaned forwards and kissed him full on the lips. It was a furtive kiss that never reached its full potential and before Punk could even think to kiss him back, his partner pulled away and snorted.

"Ah, sorry. I forgot you only went for cleaning purposes only." Once he said that, he took a handful of water and rinsed the soap out of him.

Punk let him do it, his mind trying to register that yes, he was waist deep into a secluded lake with his cock semi-hard while Orton was rinsing him with his own hands.

It was crazy… and crazy as it was he was quite enjoying this side of Orton.

"Can you hear that?" Randy asked while taking the soap in his hand once Punk's upper body was clean.

"What?" He asked with a frown, glancing over his shoulder to see if there was someone there looking at what they were doing. But there was no one and when he looked back at Randy, the so called Viper was smirking and there was unmistakable mischief in his eyes. "I didn't hear anything."

"Exactly. It's the first time since we got here that you are not running your mouth talking nonsense and it's somehow refreshing."

Lifting his head up, Punk was about start one of his infamous rants just to bother Randy, but before he could even open his mouth, he felt the palm of the other man pressing against the bulge forming inside his pants and he immediately swallowed whatever he was about to say.

While touching him, Randy arched an eyebrow. "Don't worry, this is still cleaning purposes only." And just like that, his hand sneaked inside his pants, underneath his boxers and around his cock.

"Liar," Punk said in a dark whisper. "I think you are just trying to feel me up."

Once that was said, Orton squeezed him lightly before sliding his fingers all the way down to the base and then up to the tip. By then he was fully erect and he wasn't going to lie, amused and very interested.

"If I would be feeling you up, I wouldn't have soap in my hand and I would be trying to kiss you. Who knows? Maybe I would be kissing my way down your chest and stomach to get right where I'm 'cleaning' you so I could really feel you up."

Running his tongue across his lips, Punk tilted his head to the side and blinked. His eyes were also sparkling darkly and he felt like laughing out loud because the devil take him straight to hell, Randy was hitting on him and hard…

Not that he didn't like it, quite the contrary.

"I never said that I didn't allow guys to kiss me, the rule is only about not letting them get their hands on me just to feel me up."

As soon as his words were out, Randy claimed his lips in a searing kiss and not wasting a second longer, Punk kissed him back.

For several seconds they kissed long and deep; tongues tangling together, breaths mingling and teeth pulling teasingly at each other's lips. It was enough to leave him breathless bet wanting to prolong the moment as far as he could, Punk tilted his face to the right and kissed with the same fervor that Randy was using on him.

Without pulling away, Punk grabbed the soap and did the same thing Randy did with him; he undid the bottom and the zipper of Randy's pants and without any kind of shame he released his hardness to take him in his hand.

The whole thing was surreal and definitely not a thing he would normally do. Sure, he wasn't Saint Punk and he was the first to admit that he had his fair share of romances in the past; but ever since he made the journey into adulthood, he has dated every one of the men and woman he has sexually interacted with and he and Randy were far from dating.

Hell, they weren't even friends…

Before he could put his thinking machine into full use, he felt his cock being set free and soon after it was pressing hard against Randy's own, their bodies glued together and the friction the man kissing him fervently was creating with his slow movements was making him desist of any kind of coherent thinking.

Giving into the moment, Punk started to add a few movements of his own. His hips darting forward and meeting Randy's in a hot duel. It was crazy, really… and he briefly recalled that the last time he dried humped while naked was when he was in high school.

It has been with a guy too and no, he hadn't dated that one either. That right there has been his first gay experience and it has been underneath the bleachers while a football game was taking place on school.

Now, he hadn't planned that brief encounter, at the time he was seventeen and still confused about his sexuality and even though his first time with a girl has been something he liked, he would always find himself looking at guys in a way that wouldn't particularly be labeled as normal to others.

Now that he could look back at it and compare, that guy he hooked up with that night has been much like Randy; ridiculous good looking and a very good kisser. Anyway, for long weeks, the boy has been showing special interest on him that clearly provoked the desired reaction and in his youthful immaturity, he fell for it.

Things that night didn't get as far as they could go through; yeah they touched, they kissed hungrily and he was even pushed down to his knees so he could perform the first and worse blow job of his life. But apparently he didn't did so bad because the guy ended up shooting hot semen all over the place and even when he tried to evade it, some of it fell right on his tongue.

That has also been the last time he was with him. After that the guy turned out to be a complete jerk and next time he saw him, things ended awfully when he tried to make fun of him in front of the whole school for being a fucking fag.

Embarrassed and very much angered, Punk reacted like the man he later turned out to be, jumping on the guy and beating the hell out of him.

After that experience, Punk only went for women and it wasn't until much later in his life that he started to explore more deeply the attraction he always felt towards men.

Now it was this, of all the men in the world he was letting his raging hormones overpower his senses with Randy Orton and truth be told, he didn't give a damn if it was right or wrong.

How could he care when Orton was there, kissing him senseless and touching him all over with those expert hands of his?

Besides he was older now and unlike that time at the bleachers, he was wiser and much experienced; he wasn't going to get burnt with Orton for a heavy make out session anyway, or was he?

Not wanting to think anymore, he allowed sensation to win over him and it wasn't until things got a lot heated up and they ended up jerking each other until their release came that he was able to shake his head and snort at the absurdity of it all.

"This is insane." He mumbled, putting his now limp manhood back to his pants and zipping up.

Randy agreed, nodding with a satisfied smile on his lips and gathering himself as well. "I know, I mean I never thought you were into guys."

Frowning, Punk snorted. "And who told you I was? I'm telling you, if it was something you heard around then it's a lie."

At his playful tone, Randy arched an eyebrow and leaning to him once again. He kissed him.

"Come on, let's get out of here before it gets too late."

After Randy said that, they both cleaned up for real this time and with their pants dripping wet, they made it back to their sleeping tents.

When they got there, John and Mike were nowhere to be found but Punk didn't thought too much of it, he just got in the tent with Randy and after fooling around some more, they fell asleep.

Now, the Chicago native didn't know it, but falling into such a deep slumber was the best thing that could happen to him; he slept like few times before and when morning came and Mandy annoyingly woke them up to start their morning therapy, he was feeling rested.

After all their little time out in the woods hadn't been so bad and after their chains were taken off and breakfast was served and then eaten, he found himself sitting Indian style in the middle of the field while staring dreamily into the distance.

In a couple of minutes they were going to have another one of those annoying meetings and they were all waiting for it to start so it would be over soon.

So, he was sitting there and Randy was with John, talking and every now and then sending Punk a look that talked volumes.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Blinking a couple of times and leering to the side to take a glance at Mike, Punk shrugged. "Sure."

"It's about Randy, I just wanted to warn you about him."

"Warn me?" Punk asked in a chuckle, turning around so that he could look at Mike in the eyes.

"Yes… listen, he and Cena… I don't know what they are up to but they definitely are trying to mess with the two of us. Look at them plotting right now so be careful alright; after all Orton has a reputation of fucking and then disposing of people as if they were nothing. He does it to brag about… I heard him, talking about you and a lake with John."

Pursing his lips and swallowing down, Punk lifted his face and remained quiet; his eyes darkening and his teeth grinding together.

"John is no better, he has a way of making people do things and… just watch out."

"Thanks for the head ups but I'll be fine, if Randy and I are interacting it is only because we are being forced into this, that's it. Nothing more…"

"Right," Mike nodded, and without saying another word he got to his feet and disappeared.

Once alone, Punk ran his fingers through his hair and snorting bitterly, he got to his feet as well and then got into the tent.

How could he be so stupid? And what the fuck has he been thinking?

"Guess what John found out? It's about our next challenge." Came the voice of Orton and at the sound of it Punk cringed.

Sometime while he was unaware, he got into the tent too and now he was walking to him. "I don't care so save it, Orton."

Hearing the acrid tone Punk was using, Randy stopped on his track and frowned. He looked kind of confused but Punk didn't let that stop him; he wasn't sure if what Mike said was true but he was still pissed.

"What's with you now?"

Turning on his heels, Punk shrugged. "Nothing," He said though clenched teeth, pushing Randy and trying to walk pass him.

"Hey, hey… what is it, Phil?" The younger one said trying to reach for him but as soon as his hand touched his shoulder, Punk pushed him away.

"Don't call me that and don't you fucking touch me."

Taken aback, Orton blinked a couple of times, but before he could say something, Punk turned around and left…