Sheamus and Randy made out roughly in an arena storage room. It was the closest quiet place Sheamus could find following the show. He and Randy were having a shoving match trying to top one another. "Damn it," Randy complained, "You're too fucking competitive. You're breaking my arm. How is that sexy?"

"Don't like it? Get out," Sheamus broke away from Randy and motioned toward the door. Randy didn't move. Sheamus crossed his arms on his broad chest, "Well?"

Randy slammed into Sheamus putting him against the wall, "Fuck you." Sheamus pushed Randy back and raised his brows, "Yeah. You want to." Sheamus walked slowly towards Randy, who was backing up, "Don't ya? You wish you could fuck me," Sheamus sneered. "If you ever manage to get that far, I'll buy you some flowers after." Randy was against the wall. Why did Sheamus acting like a jerk get him so hot?

Sheamus took Randy into a hot kiss. Randy threw Sheamus' cap off and ran his fingers through his hair, breathing hard into the kiss. He was so ready to give in … and get off. He made a last minutes decision to take the big guy down. He pushed Sheamus who didn't let go of him and both tumbled to the floor. Almost immediately, a high-stacked tower of folding chairs came clattering down, burying them. As the last chair fell, the room was finally silent, "E C Dub, E C Dub, E C Dub," Sheamus began chanting. Laughter emerged from the pile of chairs as they made their way out. They managed to get to the door and came out looking for anyone who might have heard the mountain of chairs fall. "Damn," Sheamus said grabbing his head, "My cap is in there."

"Evening, addicts," Punk slipped from the shadows, making them both jump. "What's this ruckus I heard?"

"Could you describe this ruckus?" Randy said solemnly while Sheamus laughed quietly behind him.

"Oh, you're being cute," Punk feigned surprise. "You quoted 'The Breakfast Club.' I'm impressed Randal." Punk shifted his weight to look past Randy at Sheamus. "What about you, Coppertop? You have anything smart to say?"

Sheamus was looking down, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "I see," Punk said to Randy. "He has nothing to say. That's a first. I'll make a note of that."

Punk continued, answering Randy's question, "The ruckus I heard sounded like an ECW match in full swing."

Sheamus had composed himself, "Wasn't us." He looked up and sided to side and shrugged.

"Oh, okay," Punk spoke to Sheamus, "Then the obnoxious Irish guy I heard chanting 'E C Doob, E C Doob' wasn't," Punk looked up and side to side mocking Sheamus, "You?" He pointed at Sheamus to punctuate his accusation.

"Nope," Sheamus said, making direct eye contact with Punk.

"Ok. Guess I'm crazy," Punk stared at Sheamus and twirled his finger beside his head.

It annoyed Randy that Punk was even talking to Sheamus. His jealousy was intense when it came to his red-haired pseudo-boyfriend. "Okay, Punk, we get it. You're incredibly clever," Randy pushed at Punk's chest. "It's the kind of thing you wouldn't be comfortable around."

Punk pushed past Randy, "Would I be 'uncomfortable' with this kind of thing?" Punk mocked Randy. He was speaking to Sheamus. "See Randy here thinks I'm so fragile that I break out in hives when I hear the word crackpipe. What do you think, Coppertop?"

Punk lightly grasped Sheamus' upper arm, "Walk with me," Punk started walking, pulling Sheamus with him. "Tell me more about this ruckus," he laughed a wicked laugh. Randy quickly grabbed Punk's shoulder, "Dude, just get out of here."

Punk picked Randy's fingers off of himself like breadcrumbs, "Dude, I'll go if he wants me to go." He looked to Sheamus. Randy was staring at Sheamus intently, "Randy, go cool off. I'll see you later," Sheamus turned away from him and continued walking with Punk.

"Fuck!" Randy kicked a door and stalked off without further incidence. Sheamus looked back to see Randy heading towards the locker room area.

"Why do you hang out with him?" Punk asked Sheamus. "Look how he behaves. The guy is a prick."

"He has his good qualities," Sheamus thought of some of Randy's good qualities and regretted sending him off. He walked alongside Punk quietly, his mind alive with ideas he had for Randy.

"He's a jerkoff," Punk commented. Sheamus stopped and turned to Punk, "I really don't care if he's a jerkoff as long as he jerks me off." He searched Punk's face to see if he'd offended him with his blunt comment.

"He has the personality of a doorknocker. You could get a much more interesting guy to jerk you off," Punk seemed completely unmoved by Sheamus' sexual comment. Sheamus stepped toward Punk casting a shadow over him with his dominant height, "Well, why don't you do it?" He licked his lips, looking Punk over.

"I would do it better than him," Punk chuckled. He stopped smiling and put his palm on Sheamus' abs. "Why don't you judge for yourself."

Sheamus ran his hand across Punk's chest, "I thought you were straight … edge."

Punk grinned, his eyes sparkling, "I don't like drugs, Coppertop. I do like dick." Sheamus suddenly thought Punk seemed extremely hot. He leaned in to kiss him, but Punk sidestepped him. "Not here," Punk gestured at the open arena. "Besides Randy is probably in some corner with his old Marine Corps rifle aiming for me." Sheamus coughed, nearly choking, at Punk's mean comment.

Punk pulled him along and found a door. It was unlocked and they entered. "Box seats, anyone?" Punk announced entering. Sheamus had spent many good times in box suites. He probably got more action in dark, deserted box suites than in hotel room beds. Punk leaned casually against the wall. He gently grasped Sheamus' t-shirt and pulled him in. Sheamus picked up where'd he'd left off on the arena walkway, leaning in to kiss Punk. He liked the way Punk tasted. Randy often tasted like cigarettes, which he had supposedly given up. Punk tasted sweet.

Sheamus pressed his body against Punk's noting how he felt softer and warmer than Randy but it was nice. Randy was sculpted muscle from head to toe. Punk had a strong body but didn't display the look of someone who lived in the gym. He seemed more like he cared for his body but also had a life outside of his looks. Sheamus liked that. He could relate.

Punk was a great kisser, lightly swiping Sheamus' tongue with his own. Sheamus angled his head to taste more of Punk and his own lip brushed lightly across Punk's lip piercing. It made his crotch tingle a little wondering what that would feel like on his cock. "Mm," he uttered out loud at the thought. Punk knew guys liked his piercings. He broke the kiss slightly and licked his piercing, "You like that, don't you?"

"I don't know. Do I?" Sheamus asked suggestively, sliding his body against Punk's. "Let me see if I do." He ran his thumb across the piercing.

"All in good time," Punk teased him. He was rubbing Sheamus' hard dick through his jeans. "This cannot be comfortable." He started opening the fly making Sheamus sigh. He pulled Sheamus' jeans open and slipped inside his underwear, pulling his cock out. Sheamus was big and hard and Punk salivated, tempted to put his mouth to work on it.

Sheamus pushed at the back of Punk's head, breathing heavily. "Please," Sheamus moaned.

Punk slipped out of Sheamus' grasp, "Slow down, Coppertop." He kissed Sheamus and stroked him slow. Sheamus was dying to fuck Punk but he could just tell Punk wasn't going to give that up. Not this time.

Punk was pulling Sheamus' shirt up revealing his broad chest. Sheamus took his shirt off completely and insisted Punk do the same, already pulling Punk's shirt off. Punk really had no choice in the matter. He exhaled sharply, loving that Sheamus was so aggressive. Sheamus began kissing Punk's neck and pushing his dick against Punk's. Punk was wearing casual skater shorts but Sheamus could feel Punk's hardness through the material. Punk was moaning as Sheamus devoured his neck. He put his palms on Sheamus large biceps and rubbed them as he started rolling his hips against Sheamus.

Sheamus pulled Punk's hand away from his arm and pushed it down to his cock. Punk slipped around him and started stroking. "Fuck," Sheamus whispered. Punk pushed at Sheamus, trading places against the wall. Now Sheamus was pinned and moaning continually as Punk stroked him.

Punk stopped the motion and Sheamus was about to protest. "Shh," Punk sounded and pushed him against the wall roughly. He watched as Punk gathered enough spit to use as lube and spat into palm. He went back to working Sheamus, the added lube making Sheamus scorching hot.

Punk kept him pinned at the chest and stroked him hard. Sheamus was breathing hard, pumping his hips and so close to losing it. He liked the way Punk touched him and the way he pinned him and the way Punk watched him, turned on because he was turned on. He grabbed Punk's shoulders and started going weak in the knees. He pumped into Punk's hand. He got off hard, gripping Punk's shoulders and spewing hot seed. Punk's hand was a mess and a little juice was on his abs. "That was very hot to watch," he told Sheamus.

Sheamus was still against the wall, catching his breath as Punk ventured over and grabbed a handful of napkins from the dispenser in the suite. He wiped his hand clean and dabbed at the dribble on his stomach. He handed Sheamus a few napkins and he cleaned himself up a bit. "Holy fuck," Sheamus breathed looking at Punk, "Um, thanks man." He laughed a little. He noticed Punk still had a bulge in his shorts. Punk rubbed his own cock, "Let's just say you owe me one, Coppertop."

After pulling themselves together, they exited the box. Sheamus turned to Punk, "If you call me Coppertop on TV, I will beat the shite out of you."

1 week later

Trending worldwide … #Coppertop

Sheamus texted Punk: Consider yourself fucked up

That was the one-shot "Coppertop" which spawned this full-length story. Enjoy "Coppertop Again"

Punk leaned his head back, his eyes closed, relishing the feel of hot water running through his hair and down his chest. The shower felt great after another match with Daniel Bryan, their feud still going strong.

Punk was jolted from his relaxation when a strong arm wrapped around his neck, "I told ya not to call me Coppertop on TV." Punk grinned as he turned to face Sheamus. "My hair isn't even copper, ya know?" Sheamus told him pointedly.

"Close enough," Punk said casually, pretending not to care. "Red. Copper. Orange. It's all the same." He looked around the shower area. "Who else is in here?"

"Well, nobody else was here when I came in," Sheamus said to him, tilting his head and licking his lips. "Why?" Sheamus eyed Punk from head to toe; his wet, naked body looking delicious.

"Don't get carried away, Coppertop," Punk teased. "You know this isn't the place. You know this industry." Sheamus was listening seemingly attentively, but was removing his towel from his waist. He tossed it aside. "Um, what are you doing?" Punk asked him.

"Taking risks. I thought you were a rule breaker, Punk. What's the matter? You decided to follow company rules all of a sudden?"

That struck a chord with Punk. Sheamus was more clever than he'd thought. "Oh you're trying psychology on me?"

"Is it working?" Sheamus gave Punk a sexy smile and ran his fingers down Punk's wet chest.

"No," Punk said to him, reaching out and running his hand across the smooth skin of Sheamus' abs. "But I'll pretend it is if you want me to."

Sheamus leaned towards Punk, the hot mist of the shower tingling on his face and trickling through his copper hair. His lips met Punk's in a hot kiss, water streaming down their faces. The sensation was soothing and sexy. Punk slipped his hands into Sheamus' hair and pulled him closer. They moved toward the wall out of the spray of the shower.

Sheamus placed his back against the wall, standing with his feet apart, making him and Punk eye-level to each other. They didn't break the kiss but increased the pressure and clung to each other. Punk was moving his hands from Sheamus' big biceps to his pectoral muscles and across his chest. Sheamus held Punk at the shoulder and on his neck, his thumb smoothing across the "31" inked behind Punk's left ear. Their breathing became heavy and both of them were erect.

Loud voices broke the silence of the locker room. They quickly broke apart and Sheamus slipped under the shower next to Punk's. "Fuck," he hissed. He was mentally commanding his dick to go limp and he assumed Punk was doing the same. He glanced at Punk, realizing he hadn't seen him hard. "Nice," he said to himself eyeing Punk's size. No one came into the shower and the locker room door opened and closed, the loud voices fading down the hall.

Sheamus slipped back over to Punk and was going for another kiss, but Punk pushed him away. "That door is going to open over and over. Let's go somewhere to be alone." Punk finished his shower. Sheamus quickly cleaned up and was throwing his things into his bag. Punk smiled slyly as he carefully and thoughtfully put away his own belongings. Sheamus' hurried manner was cute and pretty sexy. He knew Sheamus wanted to be alone with him in the worst way.

"You're in a hurry," Punk teased Sheamus. Punk was folding his clothing slowly and neatly. Sheamus' eyes were full of frustration. "And you are not," Sheamus said to Punk, wishing he'd quit teasing and hurry up. Sheamus watched Punk anxiously, "Are we going to find a spot in the arena?"

Punk continued packing his bag, "Won't this be our second date? I think we're mature enough to skip the dirty box suites and indulge in a nice hotel room. What do you think?"

Sheamus was practically jumping out of his seat, "Yeah. I like that idea! Yeah, for sure." He was smiling a delicious grin already imaging Punk on crisp sheets in a cool, comfortable room. He could visualize Punk's colorful, art-covered body against the white sheets. How we wanted to explore Punk's skin slowly and take in each piece of art while feeling his strong build. He caught himself staring at Punk in a haze. Punk was staring back. "You okay, Coppertop?" Sheamus grinned and threw his towel at Punk. His hand shot out and Punk caught it before it hit him. "Careful, kid," he winked at Sheamus.