A/N: This chapter has a graphic sex scene, so much so that it verges on porn without plot. I'm thinking that the scene will be as graphic as it gets for this fic, but don't hold me to that.
Dean is kissing his shoulder blade and trying to coax him out of a game of Candy Crush on his phone when Jimmy texts him, out of the blue, congratulating him about his success. Dean stops kissing him immediately.
"Jimmy?" Dean questions, peeking over his shoulder. "As in Jacobs?" There's a bit of curiosity, hurt and scolding in his tone all at once.
As great as things have been lately, Seth isn't too surprised at Dean's passive-aggressive question. Dean has always been a bit insecure, and whether it is his looks or his wrestling skills, Dean always manages to put himself down somehow by comparing himself to others. Seth, for his part, has always been reluctant to give details on his past. As with any other workplace, Seth supposes, gossip travels fast, but unlike other workplaces, frustration over one's personal life is laid out on the mat. So Dean must know about his previous relationship with Jimmy because Dean and Jimmy wrestled each other right after Seth and Jimmy had their falling out.
Seth probably should have looked at the sender so he could have ignored the text, he realizes, but he didn't even realize Jimmy's number was still stored on his phone anyway. Plus, never in a million years did Seth think Jimmy was going to be texting him on a Thursday night four years after they saw each other last.
It's weird, because Seth doesn't feel the same animosity he did when they broke up. But he doesn't feel that weird fuzzy tingling in his body when he thinks about him. He doesn't really feel anything anymore for him.
But it's apparent that Dean doesn't know that.
"Yeah," Seth replies. "This is the first time I've heard from him since we broke up," Seth adds nonchalantly. This doesn't seem to ease Dean's doubts because Seth can still feel the rigidity of his shoulders against him. Seth goes to place his phone on the nightstand and turns back to him. "Hey," Seth starts softly, placing his hands on Dean's bare chest. "It means nothing," he assures him, brushing his lips onto Dean's.
Dean just nods into his lips as Seth runs his hands down Dean's sides, but the tension in Dean's body is still there. Seth pulls away briefly.
"I'm serious," Seth reiterates, running his hands up his shoulders and neck. "It means nothing." He cups his face in his hands and draws slow circles on Dean's cheeks with his thumbs. Dean licks his lips, but doesn't say anything before Seth places wet kisses on Dean's jaw. They fall into the bed together without another word.
When Dean falls asleep next to him, Seth goes to check his phone again. He stares at Jimmy's text again for a few minutes. It would be rude not to reply, he thinks. Jimmy was his mentor after all, and he did help get to where he is today. He owes him a lot. So Seth simply gives a simple text back to Jimmy, "Thanks."
It shouldn't be a big deal.
But when Dean asks him about why his last relationship with Jimmy didn't work less than a week later, it's obvious that Dean thinks that it still is a big deal. Seth doesn't exactly lie in response, but he's not very forthcoming either.
"We were going in two different directions, so we decided to call it quits." He doesn't tell Dean that his move to the WWE was the catalyst to the breakup and he doesn't tell him about Jimmy's downhill spiral afterwards. He knows Dean would blow it out of proportion.
Dean makes a noise that's halfway between a grunt and a snort.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Seth wrinkles his nose.
"I saw your texts to him," Dean states. "You two've been texting back and forth a lot."
"You…" Seth trails off, knitting his eyebrows.
Oh.
So Seth may have been texting Jimmy, but it's been completely innocent. Honestly. Just two guys catching up and talking about the business and their careers. Jimmy is clean and sober now and doing a whole lot better than when they saw each other last. But then it hits him. "Wait…you read my texts?!"
"Your phone was going off a lot and I thought it was Roman," Dean explains quickly, realizing how bad his previous statement sounded.
"So you decide to look through my phone and read my private conversations with someone? Do you know what the hell invasion of privacy means?" Seth raises his voice in frustration.
"It wasn't like that-" Dean denies.
"So what was it like? Someone pointed a gun to your head and told you to read my messages? My messages?"
"I told you that I wasn't purposely trying to read it, but now it sounds like I should have!" he raises his voice to match Seth's.
"Why are you going through my phone?!" Seth exclaims. Seth is ready to smack Dean across the head, but it looks like Dean is ready to do the same.
"Why are you texting your ex, who by the way, is so obviously into you still!?" he shouts back. "Ending everything with 'babe' and a stupid smile?"
"He's not into me," he refutes adamantly, shaking his head. "Jimmy's like that with everyone. You've met him. You should know."
"Bullshit," Dean accuses. "He's trying to get into your pants!"
"Ask his mother, if you don't believe me. Fucking ask his manicurist, who I can assure you he's not fucking because she's a woman in her early 60s, emphasis on the woman part." Seth throws his hands in the air.
"So you've met his mother? And his goddamn manicurist?"
"We were together for years," Seth says simply. "I knew a lot of his family and friends then."
"Do you still have feelings for him?" Dean demands, pacing the room. Seth throws in the air exasperatedly, but tries to calm him down anyway by grabbing his shoulders and staring him straight in the eye.
"For fuck's sake, no," Seth says emphatically.
"Is that why you get pedicures and do all that pampering shit?" Dean goes on, not listening to him. "Was this a thing you and Jimmy did together?"
"So what if it was? I also got my dog when I was with him. Do you want me to give him up too?" Seth rolls his eyes again. "I mean, why does it matter if I do some of the things I did before with Jimmy if I'm with you now?"
"Why didn't you tell me you were texting your ex, if you don't have anything to hide? Why is it such a big deal?" Dean asks pointedly.
"I'm not purposely trying to hide anything. I just don't tell you every single detail of my past because it's over and done with, and I didn't tell you we were texting because I didn't think it was a big deal," he admits. "But looking through my phone? That is a fucking big deal! It's like you don't trust me!" Seth says heatedly.
"Well maybe I shouldn't," Dean says, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Jimmy is just a friend," Seth reiterates. "And if you did read those texts, you'd know I'm telling the truth. It's over between us. I mean, I don't ask you about your weird relationship with William Regal, even though when we went back to NXT, I saw you two talking all close and shit." Dean narrows his eyes.
"And now it comes out…This is what it was all about, huh?"
"I'm just saying…" Seth trails off, his hands in the air, trying to act innocent.
Dean looks at him with an icy stare and turns to the door abruptly. "I'm going to crash in Roman's room tonight."
"Dean-" Seth tries to stop him, trying to defuse the situation somewhat. He realizes he probably went too far with the Regal comment, but Dean was being stubborn.
"I don't want to hear it," he snarls. "If you want to live in the past, I'm sure there's someone you've been currently texting who'd be more than willing to join you in your little fantasy." Dean slams the door behind him.
He wants to run after him, but he knows that would probably just drive Dean further away.
So he decides to work out at the hotel gym to keep his mind off of Dean. Hopefully, he'll have cooled down by then and Seth won't have to worry about it at all.
It doesn't work.
It's been a long night, one full of anger and pent-up frustration. So once Seth's on the elevator, on his way back to his room, his mind wanders off to the post-workout sex he and Dean had a couple of weeks ago. All the grunting from overexertion and sweat dripping down their hard bodies was too irresistible to ignore.
Seth unconsciously palms himself through his shorts just thinking about it.
When he enters his room, he doesn't bother turning on the lights and he kicks off his shoes as he hunts through his carry-on luggage for a bottle of lube. He sets it on the bedside table, before anxiously stripping off his clothes and stretching out on top of the covers. He takes his cock into his hands and lets out a whine at the stiffness. He develops a steady rhythm of tight, firm strokes from the base to its head, and it's not long before it's fully erect.
He thinks about Dean's lips wrapping around his length and the way his tongue feels flat against his shaft, the way his nails dig into his hips for leverage and the way he looks at him with dilated pupils under heavy lids.
When he doesn't have the patience any longer, Seth sucks on his fingers and picks up some of the pre-cum at his slit, not bothering to get lube. He spreads his legs and bends his knees so that they're flush against the bed. He pushes a finger against his hole and closes his eyes.
To drive him over the edge, Dean would always tease him with his cock, rubbing it back and forth tortuously, from his balls to his hole, pressing, insistent, but never pushing himself in for long, countless minutes. When Dean does penetrate him, he does it with care, pausing to let Seth adjust to him inside, to pull on his nipples and to kiss Seth on the underside of his jaw.
So hot.
He doesn't know if he's imagining Dean whisper it or if it's coming out of his own mouth, but either way, Seth's ab muscles are tightening and his breathing is coming in short, labored gasps now, in tempo with his mimicked thrusting and stroking.
One thrust, another stroke, repeat.
He thinks about the way Dean feels buried inside of him, stretching him and filling him until he feels like he he's about to explode. Frenzied and wild, then slow and deliberate, until Dean stills inside of him. His hot breath dances across his neck as he tells him how good Seth is to him.
Seth's muscles start involuntarily clenching around his finger and he withdraws it to a strangled whimper. He gropes around the nightstand for more lube, as he continues to stroke his shaft with his other hand, more desperately than before. He hurriedly squirts it into his hands and then aims it towards his hole, inadvertently spilling some onto his thighs in his ecstasy-induced fog. He angles his ass upwards a bit, takes two of his fingers this time, and inhales deeply.
Seth imagines Dean pushing himself in as far as he can go and stopping. He's wearing a mischievous grin on his face as he leans down to bite down and suck on Seth's shoulder blade, and Seth can feel Dean's slick skin pressing against his chest, trapping Seth's throbbing cock between their bodies. Dean makes a point to move against Seth, mercilessly providing more friction than Seth can handle.
You like this, huh?
Beads of sweat drip down from a few stray strands of Dean's hair, as Dean lifts himself up and places his hands on the firm muscles of Seth's chest for leverage. Dean runs his fingertips down Seth's stomach and moves his hands over his hips. Dean lifts Seth's hips up, places his calves on the tops of his shoulders and holds him there. Dean starts to pull out slowly as he kisses the underside of Seth's thigh, causing Seth to shiver and his muscles to clench around Dean as he's pulling out.
Fuck.
Dean slams right back into him, almost like a natural reflex to Seth's own reaction, as if he is reacting on pure carnal urge and Seth's effect on him is more than he anticipated. He pushes Seth's legs back down to the bed, effectively spreading his cheeks for better access to Seth's hole. He falls back on top of Seth's chest and pounds into him ruthlessly, forcing Seth's body to jerk into him and incoherent noises to escape his lips with every thrust. Dean doesn't let up the pace as he leans down close and into Seth's ear.
You like how I make you feel?
When Seth hears Dean growl, Seth loses complete control. Seth throws his head back against the pillow as his body convulses into his hand, his fingers now furiously thrusting inside of him in search of his prostate. He curls his fingers upwards and when his fingers hit just the right spot, he shamelessly moans into the empty room.
He thinks about Dean's tortuous withdrawal of his rock-hard cock from Seth's body, the cum shooting out of him and into Seth's eager mouth, and the taste of Dean smeared across his lips.
He imagines Dean collapsing onto his dick, almost in reverence, and Dean's tongue swirling over the head of his cock, sucking and slurping and devouring every last drop that spills out of him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Seth arches his back and thrusts into his hand feverishly, overtaken by the violent waves of pleasure. Again and again, until he collapses into the bed in a thin layer of sweat, with one hand unclenching his cock and the other sliding out of his ass.
Seth lets out a long sigh and finally opens his eyes.
Ragged, white streaks paint his stomach and his breathing takes some time to stabilize, but he never finds the release he's looking for.
Dean's still gone and Seth still feels empty.