Seth doesn't recognise the number when the message appears on his phone.
I already won.
He sinks down onto the edge of the hotel bed. Fresh from the shower, his hair drips wetly over his bare shoulders and onto the towel at his waist. He frowns at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard display, his head suddenly filling with images of her and god what has she done now-
The little grey text bubble pops up. They're typing again.
I know you think you did the right thing, but you fucked up.
Seth chews on the inside of his lip.
What?
He presses send before he can back out, which he knows he definitely should have done. The screen goes quiet for a few minutes. He ties his hair up in a bun, stretches a little. Pretends he isn't worried but there's a small spiking feeling in his mind, like a splinter, that won't let him relax. He's a few seconds from calling Hunter to see if he knows the number when the screen lights up again. He unlocks the phone and then he nearly drops it.
It's a thumbnail of a video. A video of Dean. Just his face, turned to the side and blurry, but Seth can tell straight away he's lying on a bed. White sheets gathered around him, his hair curled out on the fabric, dry and messy. Something that starts off cold slips down Seth's spine like a shiver, but when it reaches his gut it turns hot. He swallows. Dean's face looks flushed. His eyes are closed. Seth thinks about deleting the whole conversation and trying to forget it. He tries, moderately hard even, to tell himself his heart isn't slamming in his chest and his blood isn't humming distractingly behind his eyes like he's just finished a workout and that after all this time, Dean doesn't affect him at all.
Almost ten seconds pass and Seth's eyes fix wide and unblinking on Dean's face, his mouth hanging open a little and his skin glowing and glistening with sweat. He knows. He knows what it is before he even presses play because he's witnessed that sight in the flesh countless times. Rushed, heady minutes backstage where he thought maybe he hurt Dean in his haste and Dean only seemed to love him more for it, stretched out hours at Seth's house while his fiancé was away, the two of them wrapped together until dawn, messy, silent laughter-filled seconds in the back seat of the car while they were stopped for gas-
The video starts rolling and Dean is moving, back and forth on the bed, brow creasing, chin tilting up. His chest is pink, dewy, clawed. At first Seth thinks there isn't any sound and he is momentarily grateful for this small mercy - then he remembers he always keeps his phone on silent. When he clicks it to loud, Dean's moan fills the room at full volume, drawn out and rough and Seth's stomach flips. It hits him like a truck. He jams his finger on the pause button and takes a stuttering breath.
'What the fuck.'
He rubs at his face, keeps one hand over his mouth. Clicks the volume down a few notches and presses play again.
'Fuck, fuck, ohhh my god, fuck, uuhh come on,' – Dean is whining, a pathetic, hitched tone that is grossly close to begging. He only makes that sound when he's being fucked and it eats Seth alive to hear it at the same time that it makes him a little hard.
He can hear breathing from whoever is holding the camera, and for one sick second he thinks maybe its him, a million years ago and this is something he doesn't remember doing, maybe something Dean thought was a good idea when they were blackout drunk but no, no he'd never – it has to be a stranger -
Dean turns his head and looks right up, through the screen at him and his eyes are heavily lidded, blissed-out and hazy and Seth's breathing briefly cuts off when he slurs,
'I wanna suck you.'
Dean moans again, his whole body twitches and the stranger moves up, camera spinning and shuddering, and then Dean is taking a cock in his mouth, all the way down so his throat expands with the size of it and he's looking up so obediently, so faithfully that Seth has to swallow the choked noise fighting its way up from his chest –
A hand comes to Dean's head, huge and forceful and the fingers slide into his hair and pull to a fist and Dean cries a little mouth-full sound and his eyelids flutter for a moment before he tips forward and allows his mouth to be fucked.
His eyes start to water and his shoulders rise off the bed and his mouth is so good, Seth is caught thinking, so exploitable and beautifully responsive and willing. He gags a little and tries to swallow and Seth is gripped with the need to feel something even a little close to the hot tight confines of that mouth. So he flicks the towel open, grasps his own erection hard and hot in his palm as he watches Dean struggle without breath, so full and trusting, so used. Dean is pulled back and forward again, lips closing around the cock filling his mouth seamlessly up and down and all the way back, dragged over it like a toy. This throat is full again, stuffed, and he is blinking back tears
The hand releases Dean's head and he falls back to the bed, drool slipping from his mouth, chest heaving as he draws in air.
'You're so good to me.'
Seth's stomach twists into a hard knot and his hand stills on his dick.
Roman.
The video ends, flicks back to the thumbnail. Dean, full of someone else's cock, someone Seth hates-
He feels like he's been punched, like his hard-on is betraying him, like he's sick for wanting to watch it over, for wanting ferociously to come watching Dean like that, still after all this time-
He wanted me to send it.
Seth blinks at the screen.
He said we've got some catching up to do.
Seth searches for something in his half-functioning brain, and all it says is lie.
I don't know what the fuck youre talking about
The reply comes instantly.
He has photos on his phone of you that make your shitty leaked nudes look like greeting cards.
Seth's hands shake as he types back.
Bullshit.
I've seen them. Still got that dog leash?
He throws his phone and it hits the opposite wall with a crack. His cheeks are burning and he wills himself to believe its just anger.