Title: Think I'm Sick

Author(s): Belah & Delilaah

Rating: NC-17

Pairing(s): Dean/Roman, more to come...

Summary: See Prompt.

Warnings: Slash.

Prompt:thatgaptoothedbitch: okay so here's my fanfic idea It's the shield right and seth is starting to feel left out because he can tell roman and dean are getting all touchy FEELY and they have inside jokes and ya so one night he's in the hotel and he can hear roman and dean fucking and moaning each others names in the next room and that's his breaking point! So he fucking calls RANDY and randy basically brings him in comforts him and turns him against dean and roman! That's just a basic outline what do u think? ;)

Notes: All titles, main and chapter, are song titles by Icon For Hire.

Chapter 1: Sugar & Spice

Seth wasn't blind, he could tell that his brothers had been getting extremely close in the months since they joined the main roster. He could tell that their bond was strong, stronger perhaps, than their individual bonds with him. It never occurred to him that Roman and Dean were a bit closer than fraternal relationships normally allowed, at least not until Dean started reaching for Roman's hair at every available opportunity. Not until he started plastering kisses to the side of Roman's head.

Sure, Roman had used Seth's hair to lift him to his feet on more than one occasion. But Dean-it was Dean that he carried, that drew his smile. His attention. Seth tried to ignore it at first, to tell himself that it was just his imagination, just something that all brothers experience.

However, he could not deny what he was seeing as he got off the elevator on their floor. Dean had talked Roman into turning in early, leaving Seth in the lobby when he'd stopped to chat with Hunter and Orton. He couldn't help but feel hurt, left behind again, but that was almost preferable to what was visible just feet in front of him. Roman was fumbling with the keycard to the room he and Dean were sharing, always sharing, leaving Seth with the room next door. Dean was pressed-no plastered, to Roman's side, mouthing at his throat and pawing at his body, his fingers working their way up under Roman's shirt.

His first impulse was to scream at them, to scream at them for being so stupid, so public. Underneath that he wanted to lunge at them, push them away from each other, force them to make room for him in their tawdry little liaison. He did nothing. Choosing instead, to keep quiet until they finally made their way into the room. The hallway seemed endless as he made his way toward his room, stopping in front of their door staring, as if he could burn a hole through it. He jumped in surprise when their door cracked open, only Dean's arm visible as the "Do Not Disturb" placard was hung on the doorknob.

Seth fought down the voice inside of him, screaming to confront his brothers, his partners...his best friends. Heat crept up through his body, burning his cheeks red as his lips pursed and he reached up to push back the stray hairs falling forward into his face. His eyes grew dark, brow furrowing as he drew a deep, angry breath.

Fine. Fuck them. He exhaled and quickly retreated into his room, not wanting to be caught outside of their door. Slumping back against the cool wood, sinking down to the floor, he could feel the anger shifting. The heat pooling into something darker, deeper. How could they?

He scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand, , drawing himself back to the present. Pushing to his feet, he quickly found his bag desperate for a change of clothes. He needed to clear his head. To forget about what he'd seen in the hallway, to erase the unwanted feelings that had recently crept into him. The little voice that had started to whisper in his ear, pointing out every little detail when Roman and Dean were around. The way Roman's hair smelled, hell, the way Roman smelled. The way Dean's hair would curl, hanging in his eyes, messy and unkempt, like everything else about him.

The image of Dean and Roman flashed through his mind again, the tall, muscular bodies pressed tight to each other. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be pinned between them, a wall of flesh to his front, cradling his back.

Fuck. If ever there was a time he'd wished he drank, this would have been it. He tried to fight down the heat pooling in his stomach, the tell-tale drag of arousal flooding his senses. This was not something he would give in to. Instead, he moved into the bathroom switching on the shower and making a conscious choice in cold, nearly frigid water. He stripped out of his clothes without ceremony and into the icy spray. The cold was like a shock to his system, skin prickling with a shiver. Muscles working on memory as he fought to empty his mind of all thoughts of what could possibly be occurring next door. The cold setting into his body was too much, rinsing his hair quickly before shutting off the spray. He stepped out and wrapped his hips in a fluffy white towel, not bothering to properly dry himself or even comb out his hair. He knew Roman would be horriefied by his lack of proper hair car, but he couldn't bother to care as he collapsed onto the hotel bed, wiggling his way under the scratchy blankets. He couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his lips, as he settled down, hoping to find some peace and a good night's sleep.

"Fuck! Ro…"

His eyes snapped open at the desperate, needy sound of Dean's voice filtering through the thin walls.

"Mmm shit, right there!"

There was no denying what he was hearing, then. He turned over onto his stomach, burying his face into the pillow. Mind swimming with images, all of them unwanted, all of them triggering a desperate need in his body. Everything else seemed to be drowned out as his cheeks burned, recognizing the tell-tale thump-thump-thump of a heavy headboard against cheap plaster. "Luxury hotel my ass," He grumbled and pulled the pillow over his head in a futile attempt to muffle the sounds flooding the room. Sounds that bred thoughts, images of his partners, his brothers, in ways he knew he shouldn't be imagining. In ways that shouldn't be happening in the other room.

Shouldn't be happening without me. His traitorous mind continued just as what could only be deemed a howl, low and rumbling, shook the room. Seth's eyes fell closed, rolling onto his back with a deep breath, trying to concentrate on anything but what he was hearing.

He couldn't. Instead, when his eyes shut, all he could picture was Roman, in the ring, head thrown back as he unleashed what could only be called a howling growl, body arched forward. Quickly the image shifted, the ring replaced by a bed, he could picture Dean on his knees, hands gripping the headboard, their bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat as Roman's hands gripped narrow hips, sure to leave bruises.

Bastards, he thought to himself as he gave into his urges and shoved aside the towel still covering his hips. He stopped fighting himself, allowing his mind to wander, picturing Dean on his back, their chests pressed together by the weight of Roman against his back. The smooth, deep voice swirled in his head, whispering words of encouragement as he rocked his hips, riding Dean's cock, moaning low. His imagination ran wild then, the filth pouring from Roman's mouth all the encouragement he needed as his fingers pumped over his cock. He could hear Roman promising to make him scream when Dean was done with him, how he impossibly tight and hot he'd feel around his dick, how he would be begging for more by the time Roman was done with him.

"Fuck!" The loud cry echoed in the room, taking him by surprise and pulling him from his fantasy, cumming in hot bursts against his hand and the hotel mattress, body wrecked with tremors of pleasure.

With a shiver he lets his body go lax, melting against the sheets with a sigh.

"Oh, yes! Ro…"

Dean's cries mixed with Roman's growls, forcing Seth's eyes open, cheeks burning red as guilt started to pool low in his gut.