Written for a Tumblr friend, my first ever slash fic (well...sort of?) hope you enjoy it, Coulrofilia-sexuell!
I can feel his eyes on me, even from across the locker room. When I glance at him he lowers his eyes. Something is different in him. I should feel some sort of pity, maybe remorse for him, but I can't muster up enough emotion to. I've done this to him, but hell, the boy asked for it. He walks behind his friends, his gaze on the floor as he follows them blindly. He can't bring himself to lead them anymore. I've taken any will to be a leader from him. When I purposely ram his shoulder in the hall, he won't look me in the face. The kid withdrawals into himself, hunching his slender shoulders inwardly as if he wished to disappear altogether. Those shoulders that still bare my marks that he keeps hidden from the world. It's no secret to the world that Dean Ambrose and Bray Wyatt hate each other. Though to what extent, only the two of us know. He hates me, but he always ends up right back at my feet. And he's struggling to keep Seth and Roman from finding out.
Later, he catches me alone in the gym. "You can stop stalking me now." He doesn't respond, he only swings blindly at my head. With ease I swat him away, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. "I hate you so goddamned much." He snarls as I hold him up, his feet dangling inches from the floor. He swings at me, missing my head but managing to land punches in various other places, prompting me to set him down. "We both know you didn't come here just to throw punches." I comment as I give him his footing again. "You stupid fat fuck! You and your stupid ass little fedora and your gay ass floral shirts!" My laugher only infuriates him further, drawing the ire from him that I enjoy so much. "You sure say that a lot, kid." "I'm not your fucking kid!" "You're acting like one." I chide, knowing that insult would sting. When he launches himself at me I'm prepared, easily forcing him onto the floor mats and using my body weight to keep him face down there. "What's the matter Dean? Are you feeling threatened?" I push his hips into the mat, pulling his hair so that I have free access to his ear. "Scared yet?" For emphasis I ground my hips against his backside, making him growl. "Fuck off Bray!"
"Hey, you came to me." I retorted. "You've been watching me." Now I, for one, have never lusted much over the male anatomy, but Dean's fear is too amusing to go unprovoked. "I guess last time wasn't enough, huh Dean?" I pulled his hair again for extra emphasis, my lips mere inches from his ear. "You like this, don't you? You like being right here, under me." Dean pounded his fists against the mat, turning his face away from me. We had fought before in private, one on one, and Dean ended up beneath me every time. "I think the amusing thing here is that you keep coming after me. What's the matter? Roman won't give you what you need? What about Seth? Seth looks like he'd be the type to...indulge you." "Fuck off Bray! I came here to beat your ass!" "I know, you can't stand the fact that you can't beat me. But..." I slid my hand beneath him. Not quite to his groin but close enough to illicit a growl from him. "They can't get this kind of reaction out of you, can they? It's not quite as thrilling. But why is that? Do you feel like you can force me into giving you what you want? Is that it?" I leaned in close to his ear, letting my beard brush his neck. "Is this what you want, Dean? You want to be helpless, and you want to be taken advantage of. That makes things so much easier on your mind right? It's easy to feel less guilty if you can make yourself believe that someone took advantage of you. Especially someone like me."
He growled, squirming beneath me like he was trying to get our bodies closer. "Poor little Dean. Poor, poor little frustrated Dean." "I wish you'd stop talking so damn much!" He complained. "Do something or let me go!" "We both know you're all talk. You don't really want me to let you go." I purposely brush his groin, feeling just how much he really didn't want to be let go. "Be a man son! Ask for what you want." "Fuck me." He growled, just barely audible. "What was that?" "Fuck me, Bray Wyatt." He replied sternly. I ground against him just once before getting off the floor, leaving him a writhing mess on the floor. "The fuck man?" He was already in a sitting position as I reached the door. "What kind of villain would that make me? Giving in to you?" I glanced at his suddenly too tight pants before reaching for the door handle. "I trust you can handle that on your own." I remarked before stepping out into the empty hallway.
I could drag this one for weeks really. And in the end I might even consider giving him what he wants. But in the meantime, watching Dean Ambrose writhe is too big of a win.