Seth only knows one way to be angry, really. It's boring. Dean has multiple types of anger and he likes to display them in multiple ways, whether it's drenching Seth's briefcase with soda and cramming JBL's hat inside or simply going at his opponent with a chair. The point is, Dean is anything but boring when it comes to his rage whereas Seth just does the same thing every time.
It's not the venomous spewing of words that ultimately mean nothing at the end of the day when Seth meets him in their hotel room. It's not the way he stomped down on the ring mat or the way he stalked out of the arena with a face blazing with fury, eyes threatening to burn the world down.
No, when Seth wants to prove he's angry, he does things like track Dean down to the darker part of the arena he hangs out in. The darker parts with the chain link fence. He shoves Dean up against the cold metal, yanks his jeans down, and gets ready to fuck his anger out.
Dean knots his fingers through the chain link and moans lowly as Seth manhandles his thighs apart, hands rough even with the gloves because he doesn't know the meaning of patience or gentleness. No, in this instance, Seth is like Dean; he wants it to be rough and hard, wants to get straight to the point and does so when he grips Dean's cheeks roughly and spreads them, tongue swiping over his hole. He hisses and presses his forehead against the fence, knowing this is likely all he's going to get since Seth hasn't taken his gloves off, but that's fine because he likes the burn that comes with the stretch, something he shares with Roman, but Roman's just a slut.
Then Seth licks again and makes him lose the thought, his beard rough against Dean's tender skin, but it's good like that. If Seth is going to do this, he might as well go big or go home, and Seth is never one to back down from a challenge of any kind. Dean knows that well.
"You fucking bitch," Seth snarls against his skin before licking him again, and Dean hums to acknowledge he's listening. This time. "You're gonna come out there and fuck up my match?"
"I'm not the one who couldn't get the job done with Heath fucking Slater," Dean mutters because it's just funny enough to be true, and Seth really did just lose to the One Man Rock Band.
There's a growl and then Seth bites down on his ass, hard, and Dean yelps slightly at the sudden pain even though it goes straight to his cock. Yeah, Seth is pissed but Dean knows him too well. "You fucked up my match. That wasn't my fault. Shut the hell up unless you're spoken to."
Oh hell no. Dean reaches back to knot his fingers in Seth's hair because he is not going to tolerate that, but Seth is ready for him. He comes up and slaps his gloved hand over Dean's mouth, his brown eyes black with rage and still firing, and Dean decides, this once, to let it go.
When he rips his hand out of Seth's hair, taking a few dark strands with him for good measure, Seth growls and gives his jaw a warning squeeze. Then he kneels once again and Dean turns back to the fence, shuddering when Seth resumes licking over his hole. When he presses his face against Dean to push his tongue inside, Dean grips the fence tighter and fights to control his breathing, the scratch of Seth's beard harder and he's going to have whisker burns in the morning. He doesn't care, though. Just another memento of their dalliances together.
He's not a slut like Roman; he normally doesn't like it when guys are too rough slamming into him because it fucking hurts and he's the one who has to put up with it the next morning. But when Seth stands and yanks his hips back, pausing barely a minute to yank down the front of his obscenely tight wrestling tights and force himself inside, Dean groans gratefully and pushes back for more. He's just as wound up as Seth is in this instance, needing the gratification and the roughness, and Seth is more than willing to give it to him. Shoving the throbbing, swollen length of his dick as deep as Dean's ass can take it, giving him no time to relent, not pausing. The only thing easing the way is his spit from the bit of time he spent with his tongue in Dean's ass, but it's enough to make it not hurt too badly. There's still a burn but it's not as bad as usual, not bad enough to tip the line between pleasurable pain and the kind of pain that means everything needs to stop so he can breathe. Because he wants it, because he needs it, Seth gives it to him.
"You want it as bad as I do and you know it, Ambrose." Seth's hand slides into his hair, forcing his face against the fence and Dean grunts in discomfort but makes no move to stop him. "That's right. Your slutty little hole is just fucking swallowing my cock, isn't it? You want it bad."
All Dean can do is moan and push his ass back, trying to tell Seth to shut the fuck up with the mind games and just drill his ass. To his relief, Seth does just that but doesn't remove his hand from Dean's hair. Instead, he keeps it there and braces the other on Dean's hip, gripping tightly as he starts fucking him. Dean holds onto the fence for leverage, pushing back and groaning at the stretch, the sensation of being filled to the brim. He loves this, loves being used and abused like this by Seth because Seth is one of the few people who knows how to give it to him.
Then Seth leans over his back and his hand slides away from Dean's hair to the front of his throat, gripping hard and squeezing until Dean's moans go breathy, then silent. He wheezes for air Seth won't let him have, his chest feeling tight, and Seth relents at the right moment, when it's almost but not quite unbearable, and then he starts squeezing all over again.
But it's better when Seth shifts to using both hands, choking Dean in time with his thrusts, and Dean just moans the best he can and fucks himself on Seth's cock. When Seth hits his prostate particularly hard, his face gets bounced off of the chain link and it hurts but it doesn't. He swallows hard and twists his neck around to see Seth's flushed, sweaty face inches away.
Seth licks along the side of his face, from his jaw up to his temple in one long, wet line. "You are so fucking desperate for my cock, Dean. You might as well fucking beg for it. Come on, bitch. Tell me how bad you want to come around my cock, saying my name when you do it."
"Oh Christ, yes. Please, fucking please," Dean rasps out, whimpering when Seth's hands drop from his throat just to rip open the front of his tank top and graze over his nipples before pinching and twisting them, pulling them until he whines from the pain. "Fuck, Seth, please don't stop. I wanna fucking come around you so bad. Please."
The breathy laugh his words bring should piss him off and make him want to call this off because Seth is toeing the line, but Dean doesn't say a word. Not because he's not angry enough to—Seth fucking laughing at him is enough to set him off. But because he wants this and Seth isn't relenting, isn't letting up. He's giving Dean everything and more, and he can't walk away.
Then Seth kisses him, all tongue and teeth and rough beard scratching at his lips and jaw and Dean groans into it when Seth grabs his cock and starts jerking him off. His hips buck furiously between Seth's thrusting cock and the tight grip he has on Dean, and Seth's body is blanketing his, keeping him warm even in this cooler part of the arena. Seth, who always takes care of him.
"Fucking beg for my dick, Dean. Beg or I'll stop and leave you here to get yourself off," Seth demands, and Dean is far gone to do anything but exactly what Seth wants him to do.
"I want your dick so fucking much, Seth, it feels so good, oh God." He presses his forehead against Seth's jaw, beard scraping his forehead. "I love your cock in me like this. Fuck."
Seth bites down on his earlobe hard, and Dean groans. "You love my cock in your ass?"
"So much," Dean assures him, grinding back on him, then into his hand. "It feels so good."
"Show me how good it feels and come for me," Seth snaps, and Dean's knees nearly buckle.
He grips the chain link tightly and cries out Seth's name, shuddering in his hold as his climax ripples through him and almost takes the strength out of his body. But Seth is there, catching him around the waist and holding him up as he gets in a last few sweet thrusts before Dean hears his moan and feels the telltale rush of heat inside of him. They stay like that until they can both stand, and Seth is courteous enough to help him get his jeans back on when his legs are still shaking.
Seth grabs him by the back of his neck and yanks him forward, licking over and into Dean's lips. "You're fucking mine, Ambrose. You belong to me. Never fucking forget that."
"I won't, Seth," Dean whispers, laying his head against Seth's shoulder, and he doesn't.
A/N: So this is literally one of the only things I could think about when I saw Dean against the chain link in his promos. Just… I don't know. It's hot.