"This is the last time, Rollins."
That's what he'd said last time, and most likely, the time before that. Seth didn't care. Just the promise of one more hour with his Romeo was enough to carry him through a few lonely hours—if the time together was really nice, a few lonely days.
They couldn't be seen walking together. The arrangement was initially scheduled for Roman's locker room. Things had gotten steamy and sensual until Ambrose nearly walked in on them. Then they'd had to change things up.
Now it was Seth's locker room. Nobody bothered him back here.
A pro of being disliked by everyone in the company.
Except one.
Seth waited in his locker room for a good ten or so minutes, expecting Roman any moment. He considered showing to be clean and fresh for Reigns when he finally managed to escape those like the Usos, Randy Orton, and Ambrose especially…but no sooner would Seth be rinsed off and bathed than would he be flat on the floor, sweat particles clinging to him head to toe, a two-hundred and sixty-five pound Samoan rolled up beside him.
Roman gave a patterned knock on the door to let Seth know it was indeed him about to come in.
Seth's member was already swelling beneath his black pants, and seeing Roman again with that look in his eye only encouraged its surge. Roman locked the door behind him, then approached Seth in the way he always did: cautious at first, then slipping quietly into the moment and not regretting a thing until maybe afterward.
Roman put a hand on Seth's shoulder. "Last time, monkey," he held again, but Seth didn't consider believing him. "I'm serious."
"Just shut up and take me away from this place," Seth said.
"You don't tell me what to do," Roman breathed, a teasing smile surfacing on his gorgeous face. A face that, just the other night, Seth had had to bash in with his fists. Reigns was giving in quickly tonight. He must have wanted this as badly as Seth did.
It's not love, Seth thought. It's lust.
Seth wriggled out of his black "SR" shirt and flung it onto the bench behind him. It was sexy, the way they'd slowly pull the clothes off one another, but those were on nights they had more time. Roman complied with the velocity of his actions and tore his "Hit Hard, Hit Often" shirt away from his brawny shoulders, his inked arm, his carved chest, his sculpted abs.
Seth found himself spellbound by Roman already.
He just had that effect on people.
Roman instigated. Sometimes it was Seth, but Roman was proving to be just as weak and wretched on the inside as Seth felt.
Down to business.
He took Seth prisoner, catching Seth's lips on his own and crushing them in an inescapable, helpless kiss. Helpless for the both of them. The same man that could hurt Roman in a way he'd never been hurt before also made him feel like he was incapable of feeling pain. So good. So pathetically good.
It's not love, Roman thought. It's greed.
Roman sank his tongue between Seth's teeth, the muscle probing all sides of Seth's hungry mouth. His fingers pulled themselves roughly through his brunette and blond hair. Seth enfolded his arms around Roman's neck, slapping their bare chests together, then raised himself off the ground and wrapped his legs around Roman's waist. Roman knew what to do. Without breakage of the kiss or exposing his eyesight to the circumstances, Roman walked with Seth clinging to him—how he'd earned the nickname monkey—and pushed him against the wall, pinning him in place.
Roman veered his kisses from Seth's lips to his neck. His teeth nibbled and chewed at the sensitive skin.
"Take it out on me," Seth heaved through his moans. "Roman…"
He winced when Roman's bites were a little too sharp, but he loved the sensation. Roman's dominance was his ecstasy. The two of them could hardly fight one another in the ring anymore without Seth getting aroused.
The world wouldn't see it that way.
The world never could.
It's not love. It's libido.
Seth's cock was aching beneath the fabric of his pants. He couldn't take the wait. When he started wrestling with the zipper, Roman released him from the hold on the wall. He was dizzy, breathless. Just treating Seth this way intoxicating. Rollins was a drug, making Roman feel sick and satisfied all at once.
Dean would never speak to me again if he knew.
Ambrose was gone from mind when Seth moved his pants down his well-built legs, kicking them off completely. No coverage, no boxers or briefs—just Seth in his entirety. Long, hard, inviting.
Seth's eyes were soft, light with color. He looked at Roman, nearly whimpering. He needed Roman. So much.
And God, did Roman need him.
It's not love. It's selfish desire.
Roman kept his eye on Seth so not to miss that look of pure marvel on his face when Roman disrobed completely, kicking his black pants off to the side and standing tall—very tall—before Seth. He even had the nerve to put his fists on his hips and crack a cocky smile when Seth flushed at the sight of him.
Bastard, Seth thought. He knows what he does to me and he gets off on it.
Roman seized Seth by the wrists and towed him across the locker room. The pair knew one another so well that words didn't have to be spoken for them to know what they were thinking. It was a jumble of contemplations that fried both minds.
This shouldn't be happening—why can't I let you go—it's too late—can't leave but can't stay here—maybe I miss you too much—let go—hold on—let go—hold on—
The only thought Roman vocalized was, "Ready?" He drew Seth to his knees with a gentle push on his shoulders. Seth kneeled before the bench, situating his arms over the long seat.
"Fuck me," Seth stated. It was cute, the way he tried to be assertive. Roman knew damn who was well the man in charge here.
Roman rested both hands on Seth's waist and pushed the tip of his massive cock gently against Seth's opening. Left it there, teasing Seth, taunting him, just centimeters away from what Seth craved so badly…
"For fuck's sake, Reigns, just fuck me already!" Seth said.
Roman waited.
Seth opened his mouth to beg when suddenly Roman penetrated him. Even just half of his dick was enough to make Seth groan, grip the edge of the bench tight, knees quivering beneath him as he absorbed the sensation. The experienced Roman took it easy at first, sliding out of Seth, then moved down again. Then up. Down, then up, then down, up again. Each time he went down was a little deeper than the last. He'd praised Seth once or twice before for being able to take all of Roman. Every single inch. Truly the champion.
There came a time when they were together—every time on the dot—when Roman felt a burning sensation on his back in the shape of a chair, logic trying to get through to him, brain broadcasting the night Seth had betrayed him and Ambrose and broke the Shield. He pushed past this painful recollection by pumping further and further into Seth, deeper and deeper, taking out every bit of emotion on Seth Rollins…his pain, his pleasure, his love, his hate, his agony and his tenderness…all of it…
It's not love. It's revenge.
Seth was not quiet during sex. His mouth sputtered words like a damaged sprinkler, pulling hitching breaths through his teeth and pushing them out again, his fist clenching when Roman was inside him and unclenching weakly when Roman pulled out.
Roman's body bathed in sweat. Strands of hair stuck to his face. Getting an idea, he moved one hand off Seth's body and took a handful of his hair, yanking it back. Seth shouted in delicious throbbing.
"Fuck you, Rollins, you hear me? Fuck you. Fuck you for everything you've done to me."
"Fuck you for choosing him over me."
Roman knew exactly which "him" Seth was talking about. It drove Roman to push harder, plunge deeper, his cock exploiting Seth for every sick, twisted thing he'd done and sentencing him for it…a sentence Rollins received well.
"I mean it, Rollins, fuck you…fuck you…"
Seth was the first to break the angered cover he and Reigns both used to protect themselves from how they truly felt. "God, Roman, don't stop…don't ever stop…"
"I don't intend to." The words were softer. It usually took Seth breaking to cripple Roman's resolve.
It's…not love…it's…it's…
Roman's groin was on fire. His body burned with pending gratification. Close now. "I'm getting there, Rollins…I'm getting there…"
"Do it. Do it for me, Reigns. Come on. You can't resist. It's me…"
Arrogant twit knew just what to say. He hit the nail on the head. Roman's entire form clenched as he climaxed far downward inside Seth, his body rocking and jerking with electricity, his fingers and toes numbing from the pleasure.
Seth had to hug the bench tight to keep himself from rocketing towards the ceiling. There was literally no other sensation in the world that felt as strange and sensual and damn good as Roman Reigns finishing inside him.
Roman's figure relaxed at once. His muscles lost their tenacity, and he slumped forward, leaning on Seth, who was recovering his breath. Seth wiped a film of sweat from his forehead. Roman's breath was warm on the nape of his neck. He could feel Roman's pulse pounding against his back.
I do things to him…he does things to me…we wreck each other. There's no power. Only weakness.
There was a no-kissing post-sex rule Seth and Roman had established at first. Another futile attempt to keep this "relationship" of theirs from getting personal, meaningful beyond a simple, occasional fuck. Though the rule was never eradicated, it was never followed.
Roman pressed a gentle, salty kiss onto Seth's lips. It was tender. It was raw. It meant something different than the kisses before sex. Something more wonderful. Something more real.
"I need to go."
Seth blinked, unaware of the tears forming in his eyes until Roman voiced this. He dabbed his eyes with his fingers, salty droplets, mixed tears and sweat, burning them. "Yeah. Okay."
Roman dressed himself. Seth couldn't bear to watch. He pulled his own pants on, leaving his shirt on the floor for the time being, and sat on the very bench he'd just been fucked over. Facing away from Roman, refusing to see him get dressed and prepared to enter the real world again. The falling out after every session was the part that hurt the most. The real world was Seth's greatest enemy.
Seth felt Roman's warm hand on his back. Instinctively Seth leaned into the hand, against the arm, wishing he knew what it was like to cuddle with Roman after these sessions. But cuddling meant emotion intact. Cuddling meant caring. Could he dare to give into such sentiment?
Sex was one thing…but that…this entire thing with Roman…it was too much for him to handle, too hard to hold onto, but impossible to release…
It's…it's…it's not…it's not…
"Same time next week?" Roman asked, voice velvety.
"I'll be here," Seth soughed. His eyes stayed on the floor. Of course he'd be here. He couldn't leave...couldn't walk away.
He couldn't even bear to watch Roman go.
But he did.
And once again Seth Rollins was all alone in the world.