A/N: Ok, so I'm having a bit of a writer's block and in an attempt to get some of my muses back, I decided to work on a few old stories and 're-make' them. Maybe you read this one before with two other characters, maybe not… either way, I hope that if you read you enjoy ;)

A/N2: The story is rated mature for a reason, there's swearing and a m/m/m sexual plot. If that's not your thing, I recommend you not to read.

Three Make Company

Feeling his checks burning in embarrassment, Phil Brooks hurried out of the ring and to the backstage area of the arena he was performing that night. Half the way he crawled on his hands and knees and as he dragged himself forward, he couldn't help but to think that never in his life has he felt more like a dog than in that precise moment.

It was bad… really, his mind was even sure that it was awful; but then the referee came to help him up and things only got worse. Now, even when he was up to his feet he walked doubled over, mortification eating his entrails like a starving vile predator feasting off the weak.

The crowd, oblivious as always cheered for him as he walked out. He didn't care, they only thing that he wanted was to get the hell out of there and regain a little bit of dignity. He couldn't believe he had let his most primitive flaws get the best of him… and in a fucking ring of all places.

Embarrassed and mortified, he allowed the referee to drag him all the way to the Gorilla position, and once they were out of the public eye the man in uniform released him and went to ask. "Are you all right, Punk?"

Phil mumbled something about him being perfectly fine, he wasn't sure what his exact words were but they seemed to satisfy the referee. He was let go, free so he could finally get out of there.

And he did, he didn't waste any time in making an escape, and if anyone was there to see him they would definitely say that the Straight Edge Superstar just fled the scene.

His steps getting quicker and his back getting straighter, the Chicago native hid the disgrace in his trunks with a hand and he walked pass everyone; he walked directly into the locker room and grabbing his bag from the spot he has left it he went right into the showers.

Thankfully there was no one there, and if things got his way no one would enter until he was long gone. He wanted to be alone with his shame.

"Fuck this." He cussed under his breath, annoyed in remembrance because out there his willpower has been weak and he just couldn't prevent what happened.

It mortified him to no end, especially because he was sure the other man noticed… probably a few onlookers did too.

In fact, for a wild moment he even believed the other man was doing everything in his power to provoke him. It made no sense to him but for a moment he believed it…

With a grunt, Phil started to undress, discarding his clothes to the side and then turning the shower as cold as it could go. Once on he stepped under the unmerciful needle-sharp spray and waited for it to do its work.

The effect was almost immediate; as the cold water fell on him his body relaxed and went back to its tranquil state. He took that moment to leather his hands with soap and then went to wash up. He did it quickly, before his mind could race away to dwell in the memories of inappropriate touches and bold moves.

"Forget about it, it was nothing." He told to himself, it could have happened to anyone.

As he squeezed into the palm of his hand some shampoo out of the small bottle that traveled with him, Phil heard a noise and out of instinct he turned around to see what it was.

He wished he hadn't, because the noise he heard was his solitude being disrupted and not only by the man that put him in the predicament he wanted to run away from, but he came with company as well.

"Just fucking great." He mumbled under his breath, taking notice than when John's clear blue eyes meet his, he was smiling his full dimple smile.

That right there was bad, but then he moved his eyes to the other man, it was none other than Randy Orton and while John came inside the shower and started to undress, the younger man remained in the doorway, slumped with one shoulder resting against the doorframe.

For some reason he could smell trouble out of that unexpected visit and he didn't like it. Didn't those two have each one a personal locker room where they could shower?

Yes, he was sure they did.

Pursing his lips and hoping that ignoring them would make them disappear, Phil turned around and tried to hurry up with the washing of his hair.

"Nice match out there." John said from somewhere near him. Phil just nodded, hummed and kept on rinsing his hair.

"Do you think it was a good match, Randy?" John asked and even when Phil wasn't looking at either man, he could sense the amusement in the air.

It made him feel apprehensive and so very naked.

"From where I saw it seemed very interesting." Randy spoke for the first time, his voice carrying the low undertones of trouble to come.

"Oh it was, trust me." John chuckled. "Wasn't it, Punk?"

Phil ventured to take a look in the direction of the velvety voice that just spoke to him and what he saw was a very naked John Cena; wet, glistening and bluntly staring at him with a pair of baby blue eyes full of mischief.

He was washing himself as well; his hands full of soap were rubbing his naked abdomen while checking him out. He also noticed that apparently, the business of taking a shower excited John more than it should because he definitely had a hard on as he observed Phil. Or maybe it wasn't the washing, maybe it was the looking at him while he did it.

At that notion, the Chicago native looked away, feeling some kind of liquid warm settling in his groin and making him stir a little. He didn't know what was happening to him… sure, he was known to swing both ways, but as a rule he never mingled work with his personal shit and somehow this felt too personal!

"It was just a match like any other we've had." He snapped, twisting the knob to kill the spray before reaching for his towel.

Once the towel was wrapped around his waist and covering his indiscreet manhood, Phil stepped away and made his way towards the door, the sooner he could go out and forget about that night the better.

But before he could even reach the door he was surrounded by the two top draws of the WWE; Randy Orton blocking his way while John Cena stood firmly behind him.

Turning around, the tattooed black haired faced John, the lesser of the two evils and his hands closed into fists by instinct. He didn't know why, but there was a very insistent part of his brain telling him that he better get ready to fight his way out of the showers.

It was crazy, because even though he had an in-ring history with both men, he has never really had issues with them backstage. John was a co-worker like any other and even though he didn't like Randy much, he never had a problem with him either.

"Leaving so early? But we haven't even started." Cena said, taking a few steps in his direction that made the younger man step back. He couldn't go any further because he collapsed against the solid frame of Randy.

"Come on guys, cut the crap; what the fuck do you want?" He asked, getting angry by the way he has been round up.

"Why, what makes you think we want something?" Randy whispered darkly into his ear, pressing even more into him.

"Well Randy, that's probably because we want something." John responded to his friend, a smirk on his face as his eyes delved into those of Phil's.

At that little exchange, Phil sucked into his mouth his lip ring and arched an eyebrow, trying to ignore the way Randy was rubbing his fucking groin against his ass… and judging by what he could feel there, he could take a good guess of what they wanted.

"I'm not interested so get the fuck out of my way." He tried to push them and make a turn towards the exit, but Randy moved quicker than him and he grabbed both his hands behind his back.

"Punk, now don't be like this." John said, pressing against him and making him feel trapped and without escape. "This could be beneficial to all of us, besides…" He smirked and looked down between their bodies. "You can't deny that this sounds appealing to you. I can feel it now and I could definitely feel it while we were out in the ring."

"The only thing I find appealing right now is making you swallow your damn teeth, how about that?" Phil grumbled, trying in vain to break free of Randy's hold. "Now get your hands off of me you stupid fucker."

"Wow, such much profanities…" Cena breathed out warmly against his face and Phil squinted his eyes, his ear picking up the way Randy chuckled from his place behind him while John got dangerously close to him.

Now, the way things were going was beyond embarrassing to Phil, he was practically being bullied and molested by two coworkers and his cock was once again getting erect and alert.

It wasn't fully standing, but the mere knowledge that it was slowly getting there indicated that there was definitely something wrong and twisted with him.

"Anyway, I think we can outvote you out of making me swallow my teeth. Besides that's no fun; on the other hand, what we offer you can be lotsfun… for all of us."

"Fuck you," He said, struggling to get free but unable to do it.

"I think he's already having fun." Randy said, restricting Phil with one hand while the other sneaked down his body and straight to the bulge the towel was covering. "See?" He chuckled, stroking him through the fabric of the towel.

"What… what the fuck do you think you are doing, you asshole?" Punk protested, hating the way his hips automatically arched into the Viper's touch.

"Punk, we are not doing anything yet." With that said, Randy put his hand away and Cena reached for the towel to slide it off Phil, leaving him hard and exposed for their viewing pleasure.

"Give me that…" He spat, his olive green eyes watching as John threw the towel over his shoulder and into a puddle of water.

"Ops, I think your towel is ruined."

"Yeah, thanks to you little piece of shit."

"So let's see what we have here." Orton purred into his ear low enough so he would be the only one listening and for some reason, the way his breath caressed the sensitive skin of his neck made him tremble.

Not that he allowed that to cloud his judgment and using the rational part of his brain, he tried to break free. But for the good it did he shouldn't have ever tried because Randy still had him immobile.

Humming, the man behind him placed a hand on his stomach and started to slide it down until he reached down to his stiffening dick, his fingers wrapping around it before he started to give him a fucking hand job.

With a protest caught in his throat, Phil's eyes shoot up and he looked at Cena. The older man's eyes were clouded with a veil of lust as he watched in fascination what Randy was doing to him. Then, as if sensing that he was being watched, he looked up, locking eyes with Phil's.

He didn't said anything, none of them did, he just grinned and licked his full lips, making Phil come to the conclusion that yes, he has been indeed provoked in the ring.

He kind of knew it, he had wrestled the man on several occasions and never before had his hand slipped to his ass, never had he brushed his groin by 'accident' with his sneaky hands and never had he attempted any of the holds he did that night, holds were his cock would suggestively brush against him so insistently.

On the other hand, he has never reacted the way he did that night in the past, not with John and not with anyone.

Now, he liked to believe he had control over his actions, that if he put his mind to something he could achieve anything; but what was determination when faced by the mundane pleasures of the flesh?

"You like this, Punk?" Randy whispered, his warm breath making his body shiver once again as his checks burned, but this time not from embarrassment.

He swallowed hard, still lost in John's intense gaze as Orton's hand did wonders to his body. He could stop this… he should stop it.

"Of course he likes it." John said as matter of fact, his fingers sliding down Phil's stomach and further down. He didn't stop until his hand joined Orton's so he could also touch the middle man intimately.

"You guys are fucked off in the head." By then Phil's breathing was ragged, he couldn't help it and quite frankly he didn't know if he could do anything to stop it… it has been such a long time since he has been treated like that and as wicked as it was, what they were doing felt divine.

Biting hard on his lips he looked down, watching in awe the way Randy squeezed him, his lean fingers moving up and down his engorged length while pushing his own hardness against him; and then there was John, cupping his balls and watching him… the sensation was like nothing he had felt before.

"That's it…" Randy whispered and for a second, Phil felt the tip of the man's tongue dart out to touch his earlobe. "Don't fight it."

Feeling feverish, Phil went back to look at the man in front of him, John Cena… his number one enemy in the ring but a man he didn't knew so well. Anyway, that same man was biting hard on his pouty full lips and when their eyes meet once again, the older man leaned forward and without more ado he pressed his lips against his.

That was all it took to make Phil forget about all inhibitions and give in to the pleasure that was being offered to him. He allowed John's tongue to invade his mouth and as soon as his own tongue made contact with that of the other man, he started to kiss him back.

The Champ's kiss was soft and tender, making him melt back against Randy and utter a moan that was swallowed down by John.

It was insane and definitely not how he envisioned his night to end; not even when his body betrayed him in the ring and he had to hide his shame from the world.

But now there was no world to witness his weakness, it was just Randy, John and himself, and by the way they were going he didn't think they were the type to judge.

After a while of exploring each other's mouth, John broke away from Phil, licking his lips and looking in Randy's direction. "You know, for being such a bitter man he sure has a sweet mouth."

"Does he?" The third generation wrestler asked, his voice low in his throat as he released Phil's hands. After letting him free, Randy placed his newly free hand on the tattooed man's hips and the other one kept jerking him off in a slow motion that made Phil feel wanton and out of control… but he did his best not to show it though.

It was just that Randy was a man that a few minutes ago he didn't even like and that he was there making him tremble with his touch was something that he still couldn't quite comprehend.

What has the world turned into? And why was he acting all submissive while those two men did with him whatever they wanted?

"John has a sweet mouth too… why don't you show him Johnny-boy."

After those words were said, Phil watched as John smirked, his eyes shining mischievously as he pressed his body into his. Now, Randy's erection he could feel pushing against him from behind, but because he was still wearing clothes the feeling was diminished, but when Cena pressed into him and his naked cock touched his, he had to bit down the urge to moan at the sensation.

It was just that the hard member felt nice and promising and he couldn't help it.

Then, as he began to get familiar with the sensation, Randal grabbed in his hand John's erection and went to stroke them together.

John kissed him again, but just for a short moment. This time he dragged his lips down Phil's chin and to his neck, kissing and sucking at will while Randy worked on their inflamed manhood's.

Now he couldn't lie, as wicked as it seemed it felt heavenly and he couldn't get enough.

But then John's lips kept moving down and when he had to bend to go down his chest, Randy had no choice but to go back to stroking just him. Phil didn't mind, Orton had a way with his hand and adding to that the way the other man was kissing and lapping at the flesh of his stomach and further down was enough to keep him happy.

He wasn't even talking, and that was rare for him… he always had some witty or sharp remark to say and in that moment he was mute; but it was just that the two men had rendered him speechless and he didn't think he could speak coherently anyways.

"See, I told you this could be fun. Are you having fun?" Randy asked and Phil could feel how he pushed away from him just the slightest bit.

Then he released him, just in time for John to reach his lower stomach and consequently his cock, swirling his tongue around the head before taking him in his mouth.

Phil hissed at the sensation, his hips darting forward and sending his cock deeper into the warm cave of John Cena's mouth.

"Fuck…" He breathed out, throwing his head back and finding once again that Randy was behind him.

The youngest of the three was pressing his body against him once again, but this time Phil could feel his bare flesh against him; his hands resting on his hips as his cock nestled between his ass checks.

Randy didn't push and neither did he force himself in, he just limited himself on brushing the tip of his cock against Phil's tight entrance, teasing from behind as John kept on sucking his cock.

Groaning, Phil got lost in sensation, lost to a point where there was no turning back. He wanted to push his hips forward to make John take him into his mouth completely but he also wanted to push back and feel Randy slide inside of him…

It was just too much and before he could help it, a moan broke past his lips and his hands went to John's head, encouraging him to go faster and deeper.

As he lived the moment and thought about how much he had missed the feeling provoked by lust, Phil felt Randy pulling away and even when his desire was too high to dwindle down, he did feel a bit disappointed.

But then Randy was by his side, his face flushed in lust and his lips parted. Once they were both there and in front of John, the older man went to suck at both of them at the same time.

Looking down at the scene, Phil saw that John was in deep concentration, his eyes closed and his lips swollen; he was taking turns to suck them off and after a while he changed tactics and took them both into his mouth. He licked, he sucked, he stroked… it was almost enough to make the Chicago native go mad with need.

And just when he though the situation was surreal enough, Randy grabbed his chin and pulled his face to his.

He kissed him hard, his lips feasting on him and his tongue dueling with his; he was more demanding that John has been and as he kissed him, Phil felt like he was robbing his every breath.

Not that he minded, to him it was fucking amazing! He felt dizzy and out of control and as Randy kissed him, his mind couldn't quite grasp what was happening. That was Randy fucking Orton kissing him senseless and not only that, John Cena was giving him a fucking blow job!

That gave a whole other meaning to the term bonding with the boys and he wondered if things like that happened often with other guys.

He didn't know, he wasn't famous for being the most social of the guys and outside his reduced circle of friends, he didn't interact much with the rest of the roster.

One thing was for sure, he has never done a thing like that.

As Phil's mind went blank and his libido rose, Randy pulled away from the kiss and looked at him thought darkened greyish blue eyes. "You do have a sweet mouth; let's see what you can do with it." With that said he guided Phil down to his knees and besides John.

Now… Phil could do two things right there, right now; he could tell Randy to fuck off and yell that he was crazy if he thought that he was going to put his lips in his fucking cock, or he could put aside all traces of rationality and go along with it.

Sure, his last time happened a long time ago but this wouldn't be the first time he would go down on a guy and well, he had to admit that Randy looked a hell of a lot better than the average man did so doing this wouldn't be a complete sacrifice.

With that in mind, he decided to go with his first option, but because John was busy with the head of Randy's cock he just went and licked the base, slowly going up until his tongue meet the older man's.

At that, the Champ backed away just the slightest bit and allowed Phil to lick his way up to the tip of the swollen cock.

Now, as he went with it, Phil decided that he liked how Randy felt so hot under his tongue, he also felt huge, swollen and the unique musky taste was phenomenal; even the strong scent of his arousal smelled good so yeah, he was enjoying getting to know the Viper in such a personal level.

Thinking like that, by the time he reached the head he began to suck greedily.

Emitting a low growl, the youngest of the trio moved his hand to the top of Phil's head, tangling his fingers in his damp black hair as he shared his cock with John. Sometimes the older tattooed man gave space to John and sometimes they went at it at the same time, both of them tearing soft moans from the man standing.

"You love my cock, don't you?" Randy hissed and as a response Phil stretched his jaw and tried to get as much of it as he could into his mouth. When he did that he made The Viper groan his approval, his fingers tightening into Phil's short hair as he dragged his tongue ring against the popping vein in his manhood. "Jesus… that feels fucking great." He moaned, pushing his hips forward and making his erection go almost all the way to the back of Phil's throat.

Being out of practice, the former WWE Champion almost gagged at that, but he managed to hold on before he slowly began to back away.

Then, moving so that John could work his magic too, he backed a little and watched as Cena worked Randy's engorged erection; sucking, licking and every once in a while kissing his way down so he could give the same treatment to Randy's balls… it was definitely a sight to see and he was entranced.

But then Phil's head was moved towards John' face and it took him a while to realize that it was Randy the one that guided him to the other man.

"Kiss… I want to see you kissing."

At the command, neither of them wasted time and they obeyed Randy in a second; they kissed feverish, tongues melting against each other, hands roaming over naked flesh and pulling at each other until Phil though he was going to explode from sensation.

He didn't though, even when his cock was aching against his stomach, waiting for release and craving some attention.

All that while, Randy's hand remained entangled in Phil's hair while he watched them making out, urging them to kiss deeper. It was with that same hand that he made him stand up after a while.

"You two are fucking good at this, but as nice as it looks, I want more."

Listening to Randy's raspy voice, Phil got to his feet as did John, and once they were both up, Randy kissed both their lips briefly; then he made Phil turn around and bend over.

He didn't have to ask to know what was coming.

Breathing in, the Chicago native bent willingly, resting his elbows against the sink as he felt someone grab his hips and position himself right behind him. Now, he wasn't used to random encounters like this and with two guys none the less, but he was too much into the moment and he couldn't see himself walking out of this now that he was in such a trivial part.

So, letting himself go on with the flow, he felt another set of hands that spread his ass cheeks, exposing him for all to see.

Unable to help it, Phil tensed, trying to think when was the last time he has been with a man. It has been months… no, maybe even a year ago because it has been way before Beth. He couldn't remember exactly but it has been a long time ago, with Colt and right in his apartment in Chicago.

As he tried to remember, his mind cleared from all thinking as he felt a cock pushing against his entrance, slowly stretching him as it slid in. There was no preparation but the intense foreplay that had left him in rapture and if he wasn't ready, it was too late now because whoever's cock that was, it was already halfway through.

Holding his breath, he tried to get used to the sensation, but then his hips were forced backward and he was impaled all the way through.

"Shit! God…" He groaned, feeling stuffed by the invasion, but even though a sharp pain took hold of him for a while he could feel his cock throbbing in need as someone rubbed his lower back.

He just needed some time to adjust and then everything was going to be perfect.

"Sorry about that, John gets carried away sometimes. Tell him you're sorry, John."

At that, Phil heard Cena grunt. "Fuck that Randy, he's so fucking tight…" He moaned, pulling almost all the way out to then slam back, hard. "He feels fucking amazing." He repeated the motion, eliciting soft groans out of Phil's throat.

"Hmm." Randy mumbled, moving his hand from Phil's back.

Phil couldn't see where did he go, but after a while, John's thrust dwindled down and then he heard him stifle a groan as his hips pushed hard against him, making him bury his length deep inside of him.

"Ohh, fuck." Phil moaned huskily at the sensation, the discomfort slowly going away as he felt the crown of John's dick brushing against that sweet spot that sent sharp bolts of pleasure down his spine.

John moaned as well, pushing into him as his hands steadied him by grabbing his hips.

Loving the sensation, Phil tried to look back and what he could see was John bending over him and Randy standing right behind him, one leg up and over a bucket he has never seen while his hips moved against Cena.

It was obvious what was happening and the sight of it only added to his lust. There he was, in the showers of the arena while John, the John Cena that he worked with fucked him silly… and while John fucked him, Randy fucked John…

Gasping, he went back to staring at the sink, wanting to reach down his body to jerk off; but he was afraid of stumbling forward and breaking all his teeth if he didn't hold onto the sink.

"Oh yes… keep going at it and I'm gonna cum… oh shit."

After hearing those words, Phil pushed against John, encouraging him to let go. He pushed hard, the man's groin slapping hard against his ass as his entire length buried deep within him. It burned, it made him want to jerk off and he was showing off his pleasure by moaning and grunting as his legs started to feel like rubble.

If it wasn't because his hands were gripping hard onto the sink he would probably collapse to the floor.

A short time passed and then John yelped, his hands squeezing Phil's waist in an almost hurtful way as he gave one final thrust, going as far as he could as he shivered and groaned his release away. All the while Randy kept pushing into him and thus the movement forced John to keep pushing into Phil.

"Oh fuck." John mumbled, resting his forehead against Phil's back.

Randy pushed a few more times before moving out, and once free to move as he pleased, John pushed out of Phil as well, letting a trail of warm liquid to slid out of him.

"Damn that was good." John panted happily as Phil straightened up. "I can't even feel my fucking legs."

Phil turned around to face them both, his cock was still aching and he reached for it to give it a few strokes. Randy approached him, his cock slick and standing letting him know that this wasn't finished yet. It was okay, he didn't want him to be finished.

"So far so good uh?" Randy's raspy voice breathed out, taking hold of Phil's arm to guide him out of the showers and to the locker room.

Once there he made him turn around and he kissed him with the same intensity as before; lips claiming everything on its way and his tongue taking over his mouth; sliding in, swirling around Phil's own tongue as his hands settled firmly on his hips.

Soon enough John joined them, kissing Randy's shoulder and up to his neck.

Feeling breathless, Phil pulled way and John took the opportunity to kiss the younger man and for a moment Phil just stood there, his hand going back to give attention to his cock as the two men kissed.

He watched in fascination, observing as Randy's hand went down to grab the other man's ass to bring him closer… their bodies mending together in a dance that didn't seem strange to neither of them.

But then Randy broke away, a smirk forming on his lips as John whispered something in his ear. It made Phil feel out of place and he thought that he must look stupid standing there, naked, sweating a little and holding his cock in one hand as he watched.

When John was done talking, Randy licked his lips and nodded; then he turned to Phil, his deep greyish blue eyes digging into his olive green ones.

"John wants you to fuck him, are you up to that?"

The question was blunt, but after what happened back in the other room Phil didn't find it in him to feel awkward.

"Fuck yeah." He breathed out, not able to form any other words. But words were not needed, John just went to lay on his back over a big couch and he walked to him, climbing on top of it and positioning himself in place.

While he got in position, John's eyes moved over his face, studying him. "Let's see what you have, Punk."

Phil looked down their bodies and concentrated on doing what he had to do; he put his cock in place, pushed in and buried deep inside of the older man.

It felt good, there was certain tightness to doing this that was plain delicious and that he wouldn't encounter in a woman. He has missed it, adding the fact that this was John fucking Cena and the feeling was even better.

Then, as if he wasn't so deep into the moment already, John shut his eyes and he began to moan his name softly and right there, Phil knew himself to be fucked. Feeling all the blood of his body rushing down to his erection, he accelerated his pace, biting on his lips while watching John's face getting flushed.

Yes it felt good, the man below was warm, soft and tight and fuck everything, it has been such a long time that he thought he could cum right in the spot as his cock was squeezed with his flesh.

But then he felt Randy behind him, his hands spreading his ass checks while he brushed the head of his erection into his entrance. It made him want to push back so he could feel him nice and close, but as if reading his mind, the Viper went ahead and into him.

"Ooh fuck… fuck." Now… the feeling of having his dick deep into John's tight ass while Randy penetrated him from behind was an experience of another kind; the way he rocked against him, moving deep inside of him was overwhelming and it was blowing his mind away.

He barely had space to move, trapped between the two of them, fucking and being fucked… he loved it.

"Fuck…" He chanted a few more times, only silenced when John grabbed his face and pulled him against him to capture his lips with his.

They kissed… or better said, John kissed him, his mind was too clouded as to even remember how to kiss properly.

But John was making a hell of a job, luring his tongue into his mouth, biting at his lips ring and moaning into his mouth. "I love your cock… he has a nice cock, Randy… he's going to make me cum again."

Randy, thrusting in and out of Phil moaned a raspy moan. "He was a great tight ass too… but you already know that."

Phil didn't join the talk, he couldn't even speak as he was feeling his release approach him. If Randy kept doing that motion with his hips and if John clenched around him one more time, he was done.

"What about you Punk, do like John's ass?"

"Yeah, he's so fucking tight-" and warm…

"Holy shit, don't you fucking stop." John yelped and before Phil could register what was going on, the older man was trembling and moaning beneath him.

"So are you, tight and so fucking nice." Randy whispered, leaning into him to suck on his neck.

That did it, having John moaning and rubbing against him while Randy bit and licked on his neck did him good and his orgasm hit him full force. It made him arch his back into Randy, his cock going in spasm inside of John as he spurred his seed deep inside.

For a moment the intensity of it all made him think that he was going to pass out.

"Fucking… shit." He moaned incoherently, closing his eyes and feeling Randy go harder with his thrusts. He kept at it for a while, making him slam against John and thus making the sensation multiply by a hundred.

Cumming while having Randy fuck the shit out of him felt amazing and this was something he could easily get used to…

And as he slowly began to ride down the wave of ecstasy, Randy moaned out loud and in a matter of nothing he was a goner too.

"Take this," Randy panted and Phil could feel him throbbing inside of him, his pace becoming erratic and his low growls taking over the place until he finally stopped pushing.

Then he just remained there, buried deep inside of him as his forehead came to rest over the back of his shoulder.

"God!" John groaned happily. "We should keep him Randy, I'm telling you…"

At those words, Randy slid off and Phil did the same, kneeling on the couch and watching John run his fingers through his short hair. His stomach was glistening in a mix of sweat and his own juices and Phil thought that he looked fucking great like that.

"Well, that was quite an experience…" Phil mumbled, the consequences of the situation finally hitting him.

Were the consequences bad? He wasn't sure…

Looking back, he saw that Randy was accommodating himself over the couch, laying besides John. Phil watched them, Cena was looking at Randy and Randy in turn was looking at him.

For some reason that made him feel awkward but then, without any warning, Randy pulled him towards them and made him collapse against him; once he had him laying on top of him he captured his lips, kissing him long and deep, exploring him with the care he didn't use before.

Then he released him, but before he could get off of them, John pulled him in his direction and kissed him too.

"I like him." Randy said finally, watching as Punk and John, kissed. "And I think I want to keep him too."

~*Fin...?*~