This was originally my (extremely short) take on what happened on the July 17th episode of Raw re: Seth and Dean, but then it became a mess. Enjoy?
He is waiting.
He closes his eyes and opens his arms, and he waits.
He waits for the impact, the lick of cold steel searing hot against his skin.
He's felt it before, knows exactly what it feels like; the clang of metal against skin and bones and sinew, the whoosh of air just before impact, the convulsion of muscles and rattling of bones when it hits.
But he's never willingly felt it at the hands of his former brother, his former lover; never offered himself so plainly, never spread himself bare like this and hoped for some repentance in the bruises along his spine and his brother's unforgiving anger.
But the bite, the bruises, the beatdown, they never come. Instead, there's the clang of the chair being dropped onto the ground, and he opens his eyes and turns around to find his brother smiling at him, all tight-lipped and surely knowing, seeing right through him, more a sneer than a smile.
In the locker room later, he'll watch his brother crack his knuckles and roll his shoulders and try to rid himself of the ache in his muscles and bones.
He'll try not to recall the way his lover's mouth curled in disgust around the syllables of his name, the determination in his voice as he claimed all they were was forgotten, lost forever to rash decisions and misguided hopes.
But he'll give himself up, let his brother tangle his fingers in his hair and pour syrupy-sweet venom into his ear, the combination of lips brushing his earlobe and promises of how they'll never be what they used to be making Seth both sick with dread and hot with desire.
But he is Dean's, and he is lost.