Mark didn't want to be where he was. In fact, at this point in time, anywhere else would have been better. The day hadn't started that way of course. Normally, Bradshaw's charity golf tournament was one of the highlights of his year. But the day had taken a turn for the worse.

Instead of being in John's foursome with Ron Simmons and Charles Wight like every year prior, he'd been shipped off to another because the other organizers hadn't liked the boys commandeering the drink cart last year. Mark didn't see the big deal, they'd made restitution for all the damages.

At least he wasn't alone in his misery. Charlie had been stuck with some hockey player, a game show host, and Ron Jeremy. Of course any and all associated with wrestling saw the humour of Charlie being in the same foursome as the porn star.

John and Ron had somehow managed to stick together and claim both Torrie Wilson and Stacy Keibler to round out their foursome. To Mark, the whole point of this exercise was to get drunk with his buddies and kick Charlie's ass at golf, only to prove he could... And then getting the drinks that Charlie would inevitably owe him by the time they got back to the clubhouse. Mark's wins over John were fewer when it came to the links. John actually practiced the game, and hence could leave all of them in the dust. Of course there was something about money for a good cause in there, but Mark had really just been looking forward to the down time with the guys, despite all the media present.

Mark stewed at the bar in the clubhouse, having 'convinced' the bartender to serve him before 11am. He looked over and saw Ron all too happy to give Torrie pointers on her grip while standing behind her. The lush. Mark sighed and returned his attention to his drink. He hadn't even bothered to figure out whom else he was stuck with for the day, only which cart had been assigned him and when he was scheduled to tee off. He was officially no longer looking forward to the round of 18 holes, but the cause was still worthy and the Make A Wish Foundation could use all the money from this day.

He waved Charlie off when his team was called, and then started moving when John and Ron were called, knowing he was next. He finished his drink, and made his way to where all the carts were parked. He did a double take when he got to the cart marked with the ever lucky number 13, and immediately smiled at the person in the driver's seat.

"Oh thank fuck. Am I ever glad to see you." He said.

"Hey big guy. Mind if I drive?" The lovely Trish Stratus asked.

"Not at all. I always have a hard time holding two beers and driving." He said and climbed into the passenger seat after checking that his clubs were in order. "Where in the hell did you get a purple golf bag?" He asked her. She laughed.

"Isn't it cute?" She asked.

"It's like Barney the Dinosaur got beaten and anally violated by Scotsmen back there." He said and she laughed more loudly.

"Well we can't all have black, Mark." She said, speaking to him like he was in kindergarten. Mark responded equally as immaturely.

"Hey, I wouldn't have everything I own in black... I'm just waiting until they come up with something darker." He said, and they both laughed together. She then put a hand on his thigh.

"Shh, here he comes." She whispered.

"Here who comes?" Mark asked.

"Didn't you read the list? Do you know who we're playing with?"

"No, I was moping about being split from Charlie and the boys." He said honestly and scanned the crowd of faces, many of which were familiar to him in one way or another. Usually from TV. However, no one in particular stood out.

"Ugh, can you just set aside the perennial animalistic rut you are in with your drinking buddies, and enjoy the fact that today we get to hang around with some really famous people." She said, trying to smile, and then breaking into a large genuine one when she spotted whoever it was she was looking for. "Look, there he is." She leaned on the steering wheel of the cart in order to get a better view.

"Hey, hold up there a sec, Trish." Mark said, still not really paying attention to the man getting ever closer to their position. "Number one, I AM really famous. Number two..." He finally saw the young man's fresh face. He was trailed by several different people, obviously filling various roles, mostly as security. "So, we're playing with Legolas. What's the big deal?" He asked, and put his foot up on the dash.

"He has a name, Taker." Trish admonished.

"Oh yeah? So do I. Doesn't mean I get called by it very often." He retorted.

"Just don't be an asshole, okay? I'd like this to be a really pleasant day." Mark removed his ratty straw cowboy hat and Ray Bans while rolling his eyes. He held his hat over his heart and his other hand in the air.

"On my word as a transvestite, I hereby swear not to be a prick to Legolas." He said.

"I mean it, Mark."

"Who said you got to call me Mark?" He asked, furrowing his brow in a mock posture.

"You did... Months ago. Up until recently you freaked me out too much to do it though." She fired back. Mark grinned. Truth be told, he quite liked Trish and was glad she'd gotten comfortable enough around him to call him by name.

"Did I really scare you?" He asked, putting his sunglasses back on.

"Yes, you did."

"What changed your mind?"

"Well, any man that can joke about being a transvestite has to have a softer side... Somewhere... Now behave."

"Oh fine. So who's the other person we're stuck with?" Mark was then given pause. Followed by a smaller group of people then Legol - Orlando's posse, was a woman of beauty and grace, and great bone structure. "No fuckin' way. Is that Sarah Michelle Gellar? All right! This day is looking up!" He declared as a smile crossed his well lived in features. Bradshaw cruised up in a cart with Stacy at his side.

"Hey Taker! Have fun with Legolas!" He shouted, and raised his cigar in the air in a sort of salute.

"Sit on my magnificent cock Bradshaw! I got Buffy!" Mark shouted right back and gave John the finger. Trish slowly and deliberately guided Mark's hand back down and covered her eyes with her other hand. She was turning a nice shade of crimson upon seeing the slightly mortified looks of Mr. Bloom and Miss Gellar. Bradshaw laughed and hit the accelerator.

"Mark, this is not Caddyshack. Would you please at least pretend to behave?" Trish pleaded.

"Sorry babe, but you and I both know that I'm boring when I behave myself." He said. Trish rolled her eyes and stepped off the cart. She went over and made nice with the rest of their foursome, who were recovering well from Mark's brusque outburst. Mark stood behind her, hat in hand and made polite introductions, even apologizing for his interaction with Bradshaw. "Friendly competition" is what he explained it away as. Trish rolled her eyes.

Legol - Orlando... turned out to be actually rather nice and quite demonstrative, Mark found. When Mark's first stroke set the ball sailing beautifully towards the green, the smaller man patted him on the shoulder.

"Nicely done"

"Thanks" Said Mark, unsure how else to respond. Until that moment, he'd been trying to get overly cool Sarah Michelle to warm up and have a good time. So far, he'd been luckless. Trish gave him no pity on it either when they muttered back and forth. Time spent on the road together caused them to behave much more like overgrown siblings as opposed to adults who were the objects of many people's sexual desire.

Legol - Orlando was also the instantly familiar sort and soon the three of them were chatting away, though he was put a little on edge by Trish and Mark's friendship of mutual antagonism. Orlando also got a unique perspective on the backstage world of professional wrestling, perhaps learning a thing or two that he might have been better off not knowing. "They really shit in other people's bags?" He asked at one point and Trish and Mark collapsed into laughter, and never gave him a straight answer.

Mark started to feel that this day could improve a little, and was on to a beer per hole. However, Orlando and Sarah seemed to be fascinated that he didn't show any outward signs of being effected by the booze. If anything, his game was improving. He soon figured out that his only real competition in the game was the lovely Sarah Michelle. She couldn't match Mark's drives, but she did have a far more delicate touch on her short game and the putting green. However, Mark wasn't one to let his male competitiveness rule him. He worked away with Trish and Orlando, and found that they both had pretty fair drives in them.

When photographers and fans showed up at various spots on the first half of the course at sectioned off areas for them to wait, Mark put on his usual cool Mona Lisa smile. He let Orlando and Trish step out in to the limelight. Pictures were their thing, not his.

Mark finally got a laugh out of Sarah Michelle, who was equally as cool towards the fans, during one such instance. While friendly and accommodating, she, like Mark, never approached anybody. So in a quiet moment, with Orlando and Trish doing something entirely all too photogenic for the photographers, Mark leaned over to Sarah and pulled a very stereotypical lateral lisp and assumed an effeminate posture. "Like seriously, they're total media whores." He said and tried to look disgusted. Sarah Michelle looked at him like he had grown another head for all of two seconds, and then burst out laughing.

Mark broke into a wide grin. In that instant, he'd won. Sarah leaned over to him.

"Are you?" She whispered. Mark resumed his Mona Lisa smile, giving her no answer and a lot to think about as he headed for the drink cart. The girl on the cart had figured out by the fourth hole to hang pretty close to him as he had insured her service with sizable tips.

"Honestly, how many beers have you had today?" Trish asked when they had to move along to the next hole, or let the foursome behind them play through.

"This is number seven... Keeping in mind that I outweigh you by about two hundred pounds. Besides, I've got a reason to stay relatively sober now." He replied as Trish took the lead with their cart and drove them to the next hole.

"Yeah, why's that?"

"Because I just won."

"Won? Won what?" Trish asked.

"While you were making kissy face for the cameras, I have totally already won when it comes to Sarah Michelle Gellar."

"And how did you do that in the space of two minutes?"

"She thinks I might be queer now. It's perfect." Mark said and smiled wide.

"What? Somehow, I'm not following your logic." She said and snatched Mark's beer out of his hand with her free one and took a long drink.

"I have removed myself as a threat to her. You said so yourself, you were scared of me for months. Now that my aura of being a caveman who wants to club her over the head and drag her off into the bushes is gone, she'll get curious. I've already won." Mark sighed happily and took his beer back from Trish. "It's good to be me." Trish looked at him out of the side of her eye.

"You just realize you're digging your own grave, right Deadman?" She asked. Mark furrowed his brow.

"How so?"

"Because, Orlando's been making eyes at you the whole time. You know the reaction of every straight woman who has two gay friends: they'll be better if they were together!" Trish said, doing her best imitation of a valley girl. Still, Mark refused to be aggravated by this. He turned around and looked at the cart following behind them. It was flanked by guys in carts who were the acting security force for Orlando and Sarah Michelle. Mark figured that Vince wanted his 'wrasslers' to have a tough image, and hence they were their own security. Mark raised his plastic beer cup to the other two, and turned back around.

"Well, it could be worse." Mark said. "At least Orlando has a prettier face then my ex-wife does."

Trish nearly sent the cart off the path she was laughing to hard. Mark grabbed the wheel until Trish had regained her composure. "That's awful, Mark." She said.

"The truth hurts." Mark replied.

By the tenth hole, Mark was sure that Trish was right and Orlando was making eyes at him, and he took on a sort of ambivalence about it... Perhaps the same curiosity that Sarah Michelle now had about him. Damn himself and his ambiguous nature, he thought. This was probably karma for all those times he'd never called a girl back.

At the eleventh hole, Mark had taken note of what nice lips and long fingers Orlando had. When he let his mind venture over to the part about Orlando's lips and fingers in the general vicinity of his cock, he mentally slapped himself and ordered another beer. If he got drunk enough, which was hard for him, at least he wouldn't have to worry about an erection embarrassing him and frankly, getting in the way of the best golf game of his life.

Trish made immediate notice of this of course. "Thought you said you were going to cut that out." She said.

"Plan's changed. Tell me if I start slurring my speech." Mark grumbled.

"Oh Christ, your moods are worse then any of the Divas." She said. Mark glowered at her. "What's eating at you, Mark?"

"Nothing"

"Come on Mark, this is supposed to be fun."

"Well I am officially distracted from fun now." He replied.

"Why?" She asked.

"Not a chance in hell of me answering that one, darlin."

He maintained a level of decorum for the rest of the round, mainly cracking wise instead of making nice. Trish had been around Mark enough to know that this was his tactic for keeping people at a distance.

As he played up the mysterious thing, Sarah Michelle only seemed to get more interested in him. However, soured by the day, Mark only got more distant. His red head temper had kept his mood foul, and from just giving up and flirting with Trish and ignoring the rest of the world. His game also got more focused, and he was sending balls on to or close to the green with the first stroke on par fours.

Through it all, Mark never said an embittered word to anybody. His mind was caught in a tempest of emotion, thrown into this state by the small and beautiful young man before him. But he'd learned long ago not to take it out on anybody else, simply because it was his own problem to deal with. He even smiled for the cameras... well as much as he was known to smile, anyway. He also packed on at least five more beers that Trish counted. He finished the round with a personal best game ever... And a full four strokes under the formerly unbeatable John.

Still, he walked into the clubhouse not nearly as happy as he should have been. He did see the one bright side being that at least sexual confusion and frustration was good for his golf game. And he'd almost put Orlando's pretty mouth out of his mind by the time he got to the men's locker room for a quick shower. Before he was out of his shoes though, John stormed up to him. "Taker! What the hell is this shit about?" He shouted, but he was smiling.

"I beat you is what I hear." Mark said calmly and noticed Orlando slinking past, his security team in tow. Mark hadn't take his sunglasses off yet, and looked at the boy's pretty mouth as long as he was able.

John turned away and put the last of his gear into a gym bag, chuckling the whole time. "Well, I'll see you at the bar, Taker. I guess I owe you a beer for once."

"Damn right you do. And you better not cut and run while I'm hitting the showers."

"Me? Never" John said.

"You tell that to the time you left me in El Paso, you ass."

"Hey, that was different. The locals were ready to kill me after that match with Eddie."

"Excuses, excuses. I'll never forgive you for that. I had to hitchhike with the vilest smelling trucker ever."

"Fine, I owe you two beers." John relented.

"That's better." Mark said with a nod and removed his shirt.

He let John leave and strode to the showers in nothing but one of the club's towels, the key to the locker he'd been assigned attached to his shower flip flops. Intent only on a shower to clean the sweat off, he was met with static coming from Orlando's security. He pretty much had to muscle his way past, the booze he had on board making him bold.

"It's Texas. It's hot outside. I've been sweating. I assure you that I have no interest in that room other then removing the stink from my body... And unless you want to find out what kind of experience I have in a real fight after years of holding my own, I suggest you step aside." He grumbled and then brushed past them. Orlando was still under the stream of water after Mark hung up the towel and made his way into the shower room. His body was slick with water and shampoo. Orlando made no attempt to hide the fact that he was looking at Mark as he made his way into the room, and went to the shower across from him.

"I think you're the only man I've met who looks more intimidating when naked." Orlando said and Mark laughed out loud. Orlando's eyes were roaming freely over Mark's extensive tattooing.

"Really, I'm not all that scary." Mark said. "I'm actually rather laid back."

"You seemed intense enough when you were mouthing off that friend of yours."

Mark paused, struck a Hamlet in the graveyard scene like pose and spoke in a deep, resonant voice. "Act-ting" He announced and then casually resumed wetting his hair down. "Can't loose any face around the boys, ya know?"

"No, I suppose I don't." Orlando replied. "What you do is very different from what I do."

"Not so different... Both of us go to work, and at the end of the day, when all is said and done, people stand up and clap for us, and then go home happy." Mark let his face linger under the water.

"How tall are you anyways?" The younger man asked.

"About six foot eight... I used to be 6'9", but I've been dropped on my head a few times." Mark smiled as he gave his standard answer to that question.

"Well, I can say honestly that I've never had to deal with that."

"If they ever ask you to, start talking to the actor's union." Mark replied. "It is no fun, I assure you." Orlando laughed a little and then got a sly look on his face.

"So, are you going to come over here, or do I have to pin you to the wall to get an orgasm out of you?" Orlando asked.

"Huh?" Mark look perplexed.

"You heard me."

"No, I'm really not quite sure that I did." Mark said softly. Orlando sighed and then turned off the shower he was under and walked over to Mark. Mark's face was firmly set in an expression of disbelief. Orlando was scrutinizing him with a gaze that seemed impossibly hard for his angelic features. Orlando reached up and ran his hands from Mark's shoulders, down to his belly. Mark was surprised at how turned on he was by the abrasive touch.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Mark challenged instinctively.

"Shut up" Orlando ordered and took Mark's balls in his hand. Mark puffed up, but was obviously held in place for fear of extreme pain. Still for the moment, Orlando's touch was gentle enough to cause pleasure and not pain. Orlando moved his fingers rhythmically, and Mark gasped.

"And here I thought I was straight." Mark muttered and Orlando grinned.

"Surprising isn't it?" He asked Mark.

"I'll say... A little to the left, babe."

"No, you've been rather unreceptive to my efforts. You do what I say."

"Excuse me?" Mark furrowed his brow, clearly unused to this. Orlando tightened his grip just so and Mark gasped again, but this time in pain. "Oh... Okay... You got it." He managed to get out. He could feel his erection starting and he was flabbergasted by just how sexy he was finding this. "What do you want?" Mark asked.

"You just listen to me. You'll enjoy this." Orlando said, so close that his lips brushed Mark's chest when he spoke.

"Yes sir" Mark replied, trying to joke but on some level knowing to defer to Orlando.

"Back up against the wall, and sit down." Orlando said, his lips still brushing Mark's chest. Mark took two steps back and then slid down the tiled wall with the help of the condensation on it. He came to rest on the floor with his legs splayed and an angelic looking incubus between his legs. Orlando, while still licking and biting at Mark's chest made sure that Mark's balls weren't pinched on the floor of the shower by continuing to cradle them in his hand. Mark sighed happily, unused to such manhandling, but just as clearly aroused by it judging from the rate his cock was getting hard.

"That's right. You just enjoy this." Orlando murmured. "This cock of yours is so big it's a wonder you can find anybody that can fuck you." He rubbed his unshaven cheek along Mark's rising member. The action caused Mark pleasure and pain. He flinched and then moaned. He sagged against the wall, gasping for breath.

"I happen... to be quite good... at foreplay." Mark said between breaths. "And apparently, so are you."

"Oh, I haven't even begun yet." He replied.

"So show me." Mark said, his own sly grin starting to creep across his face. Orlando's expression changed to frustration and he once again squeezed Mark's balls just beyond his comfort zone and Mark hissed in pain. Mark's hands tried futilely to grab the ledge between his ass and the floor drain.

"No no no" Orlando said. "You go along with what I want to do, and not the other way around." Mark grimaced, and groaned, and his eyes rolled back in his head. But Orlando's long fingers and the prospect of that lovely mouth of his convinced Mark that it was okay to let go of his need for control... Just this once. Mark nodded his head vigorously up and down.

"O - Okay." He agreed. "I'll do what you want."

"That's right." Orlando said and immediately relaxed his too tight grip to a gentle cradling once more. Mark sighed out his relief, and breathed deeply. His muscular chest and belly moving rhythmically enough that Orlando thought he could be hypnotized by it if he let himself. He let his eyes roam over the large body he now had control of. It hadn't taken much to convince ultra-male Mark, but then again, the vague threat of castration was usually enough to convince any man.

Orlando moved his face to hover just about Mark's belly. He dragged his teeth along and then bit down at the point where stomach became groin. Mark let out a groan akin to a wild animal and his whole body shuddered. Orlando smiled inwardly. A man's man was usually such an easy and satisfying seduction, and Mark was proving to be just as reliable as any of the others.

A few more gentle caresses from Orlando, and Mark's cock was fully erect and seemed to strain against it's own flesh. Mark was already panting. So it was with devious eyes that Orlando snaked his tongue out of his mouth and licked the tip Mark's cock. Mark moaned almost in relief, but when Orlando pulled away, he immediately resumed his state of sexual frustration. Mark looked down at Orlando, who was looking at his cock with amused curiosity. "What is it?" Mark asked.

"Just most of the guys I've been with are uncut. This is new and interesting."

"Well it used to be the standard... Old school, baby." Mark said and smiled. But it was a gentler smile then before. He wasn't struggling for control, merely waiting with baited anticipation for whatever was going to happen next. He also really didn't want to be put in 'the vice' again. Life was tough when somebody had you quite literally by the balls.

"Well it's just something I'll have to learn about now isn't it... So how does this feel?" Orlando asked and swirled his tongue over the tip again. Mark closed his eyes, took a long, deep breath, and kept on smiling.

"Feels wonderful" He murmured.

"Good" Orlando replied, only pulling his mouth away momentarily. "And how does this feel?" Orlando, by some miracle of creation in Mark's mind, opened his mouth and took most of Mark's cock inside it, and deep throating. Mark gasped again, his head leaning back against the shower wall. He hadn't been expecting this, and now he was seeing stars.

"That's beautiful. Oh my god that's beautiful... You're beautiful." Mark murmured. He felt Orlando let out a moan and the sensation on Mark's cock was unbelievable. When Orlando started to move his head up and down along Mark's member, Mark opened his eyes and snuck a look at that pretty mouth wrapped around his cock.

He had to touch it, so he reached out his hand. He already figured out that Orlando would not approve of Mark trying to guide his actions, so he moved slowly. He ran his fingers over Orlando's shoulder and up his neck, oh so gently, as to not disturb him from what he was doing. He followed the line of Orlando's jaw and then Mark's fingers touched his chin and went up to his lips. The sensation seared into Mark's memory and he just as gently moved his fingers along, and up past Orlando's ear and through is wet hair. Mark's strange flash of a fantasy from such a short time before was now vivid and vibrant reality.

Then Orlando started working his tongue from side to side and Mark lost any ability other then to just feel. His head rolled to the side and he couldn't even close his eyes he was so incapacitated from pleasure. The water still cascading down around them glittered like diamonds in the odd light of the shower room.

At that moment, Mark didn't care if anybody walked in on them. He didn't care about anything other then the sensation that Orlando was giving him. He was completely at another man's mercy and it felt so good he could have lived in this state in perpetuity.

Mark was close. He would cum any second now and this little encounter would be pretty much over, and he would be powerless to stop it. However, it would be something he'd never forget. He grunted when he came and was left in haze. He only found it in himself to move when he felt that lovely warmth leaving his member. He reached out and grabbed a handful of Orlando's hair and pulled him close before he could escape.

Orlando was well used to leaving any man he did this to while they were still out of it. The goal was to masturbate later, with this latest conquest fresh in his memory. But Mark felt so good he paused a moment to enjoy it. Very quickly though, Orlando tensed up once he realized his hesitation now meant he was locked in Mark's apparently incredibly strong arms, with no means of escape and only his own raging hard on between them. Mark's lovely supplication had him turned on like few others had. But in a possibly very dangerous instant, the big man had turned the tables completely on him.

Mark continued to hold Orlando close while his brain congealed back into a solid state from the puddle of warm goo Orlando's ministrations had left it in. Orlando breathed heavy, all too aware of how prone he might be at this moment, held all too easily by the massive man he'd seduced. Thoughts of not making it out of this room alive whirled through his over-active imagination. He had no doubt that Mark was fully capable of killing him, and might not appreciate Orlando's advances once he got his senses about him. Sex was sex to most men, but often straight guys didn't like when the found they liked sex with another man so much. When Mark finally spoke, the tone only made Orlando more nervous.

"You like seducing big, brawny guys?" He asked.

"Yes" Orlando replied in a whisper. His head was facing to the side out of necessity to draw breath because Mark held him so close. One of Mark's arms ventured up Orlando's back and touched the back of his head. Mark's other arm easily held Orlando firmly to him. Mark slowly and gently turned Orlando's head until they were face to face. The smaller man's gaze was down and away from Mark.

"Look at me." Mark said in such a way that he expected to be listened to. Orlando slowly looked up into Mark's eyes. They were sage green, which is something he hadn't noticed before. They also weren't symmetrical. One was off kilter from the other in an unnatural way.

"You see how my left eye sits higher then the right?" He murmured.

"Yes" Orlando answered softly.

"That whole area of my face is steel plates... And that was an accident in a pretend fight. You do something like this again, you be careful... You be so fucking careful. You find somebody you can trust and role-play... Or you'll end up hurt. And I'm not talking sometime in the vague future. I'm speaking for the here and now. Somebody out there will not hesitate to hurt you... Even if it is only by accident." Mark's face was so deadly serious and well-calculated that Orlando couldn't read anything beyond the message he was delivering. A perfect mask, emoting the cold reality Orlando could face if his luck ran out. He concluded somewhere in his mind that Mark really should have gotten into acting.

"So what do you plan on doing with me now?" Orlando whispered, his cock still hard between their bodies. Orlando became awash with relief when Mark smiled thoughtfully.

"Well now, what indeed..." He mused. Locks of his sopping wet red hair were hanging down in front of his face. He moved his hand away from the back of Orlando's head, and between the two of them. He laid his large, still slightly soapy hand over Orlando's erection, effectively pinning it to his own belly. Orlando moaned at the feeling of it. "Hmm... I think I'm going to sit here and watch you enjoy yourself with this little scenario I've created." Mark said. He didn't have to explain it to Orlando. Orlando wrapped his arms around Mark's neck, and braced himself against Mark's arm that still held him firm, and started moving his hips. He didn't care where his legs were, so long as they weren't pinching anything vital of Mark's.

He pumped his cock in the space between the skin Mark's belly and the palm of his hand. He particularly noticed the calloused skin of Mark's hand and got off on the sensation the rough skin made on his member.

The heat, the slickness of the water, and the tenseness of the situation brought Orlando off rather quickly and this time, he sagged against Mark, his body relaxed and limp. Mark held his precious cargo upright with the determination of Atlas. And in that moment of mutual haze, he allowed himself to kiss Orlando softly on the mouth for a short time. Mark ignored the taste of his own cum, and Orlando seemed unopposed to the taste of beer on Mark's breath. "Beautiful" Mark murmured. "Just beautiful" He was rewarded with Orlando's smile.

"If you'll forgive me for saying, I think we both need a shower." Orlando said and Mark laughed out loud.

After suffering some impatient glares from Orlando's security when they emerged from the shower, Mark made his way back to the clubhouse bar, which at this point was accessible only to players and devoid of any media. All of Mark's fellow co-workers were hanging out, and apparently had saved him a seat.

"Christ, Taker! What the hell kept you?" Charlie asked. "Trish beat ya outta the locker room."

"And I had to do my make up." Trish quipped.

"I'm getting to be an old man. What else can I say?" Mark said and grinned. He missed traveling with Charlie now that he'd gone on to other things.

"You look like a man that just got fucked." Bradshaw declared. "And I note the all too conspicuous absence of one Sarah Michelle Gellar in this room, and Trish reports she wasn't in the women's locker room... She's what? Twenty - three? Twenty - four tops? You fucking horn dog." Bradshaw kicked the empty chair for Mark away from the table and towards him. Mark put on the best non-committal smile he'd worn all day. He nodded to the bartender to get him a drink and then sat down on the chair where it had stopped. It gave him some distance from the table and allowed him to stretch out his legs. The table sat in quiet anticipation of him saying something, but he merely maintained his cast iron expression.

"I'm not telling you, John." He finally said, and John huffed in response.

"Your chivalry is both antiquated and detrimental to me living vicariously through your sexploits." John grumbled, knowing Mark would laugh at him choosing flowery words. Which Mark did loudly as his drink arrived at the table.

"Besides, Charlie over there bags way more pussy then I do. You should be asking him." Mark said and his coworkers laughed. The girls, long accustomed to this sort of talk back stage and in the locker room laughed just as loud as the guys like the sexy tomboys they were.

That's when Mark felt a presence at his shoulder. He looked up and smiled when he saw Orlando with his hand extended. "That was a lot of fun today. It was very interesting to meet you." Orlando said. Mark raised his own hand and shook Orlando's.

"Likewise. You got time for a beer? Want to join us?" Mark asked. Orlando looked back at his staff. A pretty girl in horn rims checked her watch.

"Your flight is at 9:30. You've got time for a quick one." She said.

Mark had to bite his lip to keep from laughing or yelling, 'I'll say! Back to the locker room!' Instead he said, "Cool, sit down." Orlando took a quick look for a chair in the general vicinity, and finding none, plunked himself down on Mark's exposed lap. Mark's expression of utter bafflement was one for the ages and lasted long enough to be camera fodder for Trish's new digital.

The flash brought Mark out of it and in profile, he saw Orlando smiling pretty for a second photo. Mark shrugged and grinned and then laughed along with Bradshaw and the boys. "Well, I did invite him to sit down." He reasoned aloud and that set the boys off anew. He even leaned forward and smiled for a third photo. "Would you be so kind as to pass me my drink, Mr. Bloom?" He asked.

"Sure" Orlando replied and handed it to him. One of Orlando's aides arrived with a pint of beer for him and he thanked her warmly.

"Jesus Christ, what's it like to have someone wipe your ass like that?" John asked.

"Hey, I invited him to join us. Be nice, John." Mark fired back.

"Fine, I will redirect my hilarious, meaningless drunken verbal attack at you then, Taker." He replied. "Maybe it was Legolas there and not Buffy that you were chasing down the rabbit hole."

"It'd still more then you're getting." Mark retorted and the boys egged him on.

"Unbelievable how men measure their pricks by calling each other gay." Trish said and rolled her eyes. The girls broke into giggles at the comment.

"What are you on about, Trish?" John asked, furrowing his brow and focusing on her. Meanwhile Orlando leaned in close to Mark.

"You're actually able to work with these people?" He asked.

"Usually they're somewhat more civilized. This is just us blowing off steam. None of the people at this table, save for Charlie, have been home in over a month." Mark answered just as quietly.

"Well that I do understand." Orlando said and sipped at his beer. Mark's attention went back to Trish, who was defending his honour.

"I'd say Taker's way more the man for being comfortable enough in his masculinity to shrug off something like another guy sitting on his lap. It certainly has any ring rat conquest of yours beat hands down." She said.

"What's a ring rat?" Orlando asked out loud.

"Think groupies... Only with more lard and less teeth." Ron piped up and everyone smirked.

"You're one to talk, having that belly of yours there, Ron." Stacy said with her innocent smile that let her get away with saying such things.

"Darlin', I played football. I'm supposed to be built like a tank." He said, and drank more beer.

"Anyways, we're diverting here." John said, bringing a modicum of calmness back to them. "How does Taker's ability to do something pretty gay make him more masculine?" He asked Trish.

"It's all in the confidence level. If he can work up the stones to let another guy do that to him, despite the fear of being mocked by other guys who might see it, then you know he'll be just as confident when he gets into the same situation with a woman." Trish explained.

"Oh no. I have a general feeling of dread." Mark murmured just loud enough for Orlando to hear. Orlando cocked his head to the side, but nothing more.

"She's got a point." Stacy agreed. "We sure do like it when men are man enough to know what they're doing."

"And yet chicks play hard to get, creating a perpetual cycle for men to have to catch up to." John said.

"Maybe you're just not going about it the right way." Orlando suggested. Everybody but Mark seemed surprised at his wry comment, and they laughed more out of disbelief then anything else.

"You might not want to encourage this. I can already see where it's going." Mark whispered.

"Maybe I want it to go there." Orlando whispered back. "Maybe you want it to go there."

"Fine! Let's see how manly Taker is. I'll put an extra five grand down on my donation Make a Wish if Taker kisses Legolas." John declared.

"Oh shit, here we go." Mark muttered.

"Hey redneck, I have a name." Orlando barked. The table got deadly quiet... Until Mark started laughing.

"Nicely done, Mr. Bloom! We can't ever get him to shut up after beer number ten." Mark said and Orlando smiled coyly. However it seemed that John was rather determined now.

"You heard me, Taker. You kiss him, and I'll throw five grand on today's totals." He said.

"John, why must you be such an insufferable prick?" Mark asked.

"Because it makes money." John replied. "So, Mister Comfortably Masculine, are you comfortable enough to make some money for needy kids?"

"There will be conditions." Mark said and everybody started cheering and pounding the table top. Mark held up a hand, and to Orlando's surprise, everyone quieted down quickly. "First, a measly five grand? I know that you personally can put up at least ten from your chequing account, and the rest of you can put up two each. Second, Trish and Stacy have to kiss and there has to be visible tongue."

"Hey!" They responded in unison.

"Oh shut it. You got me into this... Besides, you can pass if off as drunken fun. Girls can get away with that. However, I will be ribbed mercilessly for this. I want a little return for my foray into queerdom. The only proper reward being hot lesbian action." Mark said. Stacy and Trish exchanged a look and then a giggle.

"Okay" Stacy said.

"You're on" Trish said.

"And third, hand me that fucking camera. I don't want pictures of this plastered all over the internet."

"You should see some of the stuff that gets posted about me on the net." Orlando said, but was smiling as he shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Tell me about it" Said pretty much everyone else at the table, and then they all started laughing again.

"Well, it could be worse and we could be like Glenn and have to deal with brides." John said.

"Kane has brides?" Stacy asked.

"Yeah, like Frankenstein or Dracula... Only of course with more lard and less teeth." John replied.

"You really shouldn't be so derogatory towards fans, it's just rude." Trish said.

"The APA is one of the few times in my career that I've ever been liked... I'm just used to antagonizing fans." John replied. "I don't mean anything personal by it."

"Where is Glenn anyways?" Stacy asked.

"He said the mask is famous, not him. And he can't see well enough to golf in it." John replied. "He made a good donation though."

"Oh. I suppose that's a very good reason."

"Well Taker, it seems you have yourself a deal." John said. "What happens in the bar, stays in the bar."

"Cut the cheque, John." Mark said.

"This is a tournament I set into motion! You think I'd cheat it?"

"No, I think you're drunk and might possibly forget."

"Oh fine. Fuck you, Taker." John went for a briefcase at his feet and pulled a refillable leather book John used to keep the cheques for his business purposes. A few pen strokes later, he tore the cheque carefully from the page and held it up in the air. "Okay Taker, I'm calling your bluff." He said.

"Oh, you're not gonna like this, John." Mark said quietly. He leaned forward, setting his glass down on the table and taking Orlando's and doing the same. "You just lost for the second time today." Mark then twisted Orlando towards him as he planted a breathtaking kiss on the smaller man's open mouth. He pulled Orlando close to him and snaked a hand around him and groped his ass.

Mark heard the whoops and shouts around him, but ignored them to add to the shock value. Orlando was just as in to it as he was apparently, and they shared some serious tongue play. Unlike the soft, tender kiss from before, this was pure fun. The shouts started to die down and Mark heard Stacy speak.

"See boys, now that's hot." She said.

That made Mark chuckle and he and Orlando's lips parted. Mark made sure to finish the experience by sharing that longing look and caressing Orlando's cheek. When he turned his attention back to the rest of the people seated at the table, he still held Orlando close. "And that folks, is how you display comfortable masculinity." Mark said. "I'm pretty sure I'm still as into pussy as I ever was. Speaking of which, ladies, I do believe you owe me a kiss."

Trish, who'd been just as aroused by the display as Stacy, smirked. "I don't think we can top that." She said.

"Yeah, but you can try." Mark replied, and finally relinquished his tight hold on Orlando, but continued to hold him to his lap in a loose embrace.

"Aw fuck it." Trish said and made an aggressive play for Stacy's mouth. It started out hot and bruising, but then slowed to something far more delicate.

"Oh, oh that's just lovely." Mark commented. "Remember the tongue ladies. You promised me." Trish pulled away from Stacy's mouth.

"We're getting to that. Hold your horses." She ordered and then resumed her make out session. Trish slipped Stacy her tongue, and all the guys at the table sat in happy silence. They even got the bonus of a little back and forth breast fondling. That was when Mark started clapping. The girls took that as their cue to finish and the rest of the guys clapped and cheered.

"You work with the most fascinating people." Orlando whispered to Mark.

"Our careers are based on calculated risks, Mr. Bloom. Naturally it spills over into our down time too."

"Well, seeing as we've now made out in public, I'd say that warrants a first name basis, don't you?"

"You're probably right." Mark replied and held up his hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Mark."

"I'm Orlando." He replied and they shook hands and smiled, sharing a private moment while everyone else was focused on Trish and Stacy. Orlando looked at the large grandfather clock in the room. "Shit, I've gotta get a move on. I've got a second reading tomorrow."

"What for?" Mark asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Something to do with Pirates. You know, you should really think about acting. That was as believable a kiss as I've had with anybody."

"Naw, I'm a wrestler, not an actor." Mark then leaned in and what he said next was barely audible, even to Orlando. "And who says I was acting?" Orlando chuckled and they shared a look.

"Well then, shall I have my people track your people down then?"

"You're welcome to try. But I have a person, singular. I don't need nearly as many as you do. Besides, the travel costs would be way too much." Mark quipped.

"All right then." Orlando said and stood up. Mark immediately missed the warmth of Orlando's weight on his legs. They shook hands again and said goodbye. Orlando then gave kisses and hugs to the girls and was ushered out of the room.

"Well Taker, I gotta admit, that took some kind of balls." John said. "But would you do it with one of the beer bellied ring crew?"

"No John, you got your show, and as before all this strangeness started, I've got nothing to prove." Mark said and John laughed. Before they left, the extra money was handed over to the representative from Make a Wish, who was astounded but accepted graciously.

It wasn't until weeks later when Mark got home for awhile, that he opened up one of the pockets in his golf bag when he was pulling them out for a quick round with John the next day. John had sworn revenge, and Mark was happy to oblige. A piece of paper tumbled out the pocket of the bag. There were pre-printed numbers on it, as if it had been torn from a day planner. He picked up the paper and read what had been scrawled on it, 'I trust you. Call me any time.' which was followed by a phone number.

Mark looked at the paper like he'd never seen writing before. He'd been haunted by that experience, by the memories of the feel of Orlando's mouth. More then a little amazed, he went and sat down on a nearby chair. His amazement slowly turned to a feeling of warmth which made him grin. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and tucked the number carefully inside. He had no idea what he was going to do with it... But as Trish had said, he was comfortably masculine enough to keep it around and let himself imagine the possibilities.

Read the sequel One Step Closer