Hunter had kissed him first Punk reminded himself. He thought that was an important point to focus on. He couldn't remember what had sparked it. They'd teamed together earlier that night but there had been no conversations between them, no team strategy meeting before their match or celebrations afterwards. There was a big gap in his memory that excluded everything from his solitary shower to being jumped by Hunter in an empty locker room but he supposed it hardly mattered anymore.

He'd kissed Hunter the second time. He remembered that well enough because shortly afterwards he'd heard the unmistakable sound of the door's lock clicking and caught a knowing wink. Punk had heard the rumours that he'd been hand picked from the ECW roster to be the fifth man on DX's team and wondered if this had all been a Helmsley master plan. There had certainly been no sign of it, Hunter had barely looked at him all day so maybe it had caught Hunter as unaware as it had caught him. Punk guessed that didn't matter much either.

The third kiss was definitely Hunter but as it had been prompted by Punk slipping his hands past the waistband of Hunter's pants Punk figured they could call that one a draw. He'd been warned by those he knew who had passed through the WWE to stay away from Hunter and the games he lived to play. Punk had thought it to be sound advice and advice he had intended to follow but it was so difficult to be good when he had Hunter's body pressing him against the door with such force that he could hardly find the room to breathe.

Punk attributed the fourth kiss to... Well, he guessed that by that stage it didn't matter. Hunter's pants were pooling around his ankles due to Punk's eager hands and Punk's shirt was half over his head as Hunter started to grind into him. Punk felt like he was fifteen years old again and was being driven by a flush of hormones and lust that age should have tamed long ago but he didn't care.

There had been just the four kisses. Punk was pretty certain of that. Four kisses was all it had taken for him to willingly drop to his knees before a guy he couldn't stand. That was quick, even by Punk's usual standards.

It had been in the hotel elevator the next day when he'd seen Hunter next. They were somewhere between the fourth floor and the fifth when Hunter had kissed him first again. He couldn't remember if he had turned to greet Hunter or if Hunter had just jumped him again but he was soon pressed against the elevator wall and moaning in pleasure as Hunter forcefully groped his ass.

The second kiss was again instigated by Punk but it was only because Hunter had broken the contact to see who had called the elevator on the ninth floor. Punk had never been one to care for social etiquette or other people's feelings and found a sick pleasure in watching the middle aged couple slowly back out of the elevator. It was at this point that he'd discovered how sensitive and distracting Hunter's nipples were and he was soon able to get Hunter's attention back with a quick flick of his thumb.

The third kiss happened on the way to his hotel room and lasted the time it took his uncooperative fingers to figure out which way his key card had to swipe through the little gadget on his door. Punk could remember questioning whether he was doing the right thing. Hunter was a piranha backstage who ate every little fish he could catch and here Punk was, dangling his fingers inside Hunter's tank. The words of warning flashed through his mind again but Hunter's thigh slipping between his legs and rubbing his crotch dismissed them all.

That night's fourth kiss was a long time coming. The drab carpet of his hotel room had been covered by discarded clothing before their lips met for that fourth time. Hunter's skin felt so smooth and hot as hell itself next to his own and Punk felt like he was ravenous, ravenous for more touches, more kisses, more Hunter. Punk had always been so careful backstage. Keep in line, be respectful and only fuck those who had no influence on your career.

Four kisses. Only four kisses and the concept of being careful had completely disappeared from Punk's lust ridden mind. Despite his carefulness he'd had heat with management and the boys in the locker room before but usually it had built over months of personality clashes. But two nights, four kisses, a blow job and a fuck so good just thinking about it still made him hard... That was quick.

When Hunter ignored him the next day he knew he should have listened to everyone who told him to stay away. When he caught Hunter and Michaels having a joke at his expense a week later he knew he should have listened to himself. Punk had known Hunter's reputation of screwing with new boys and had expected him to canvas management to ensure he wasted away on the Titanic known as ECW but still he'd bitten. Still he'd allowed himself to be used and abused and he knew that he had nobody to blame but himself.

But Hunter had kissed him first. That had to count for something right?

THE END