Seth let it go for two weeks. He deleted the voicemail and got on with his life, kept to himself and denied hiding when anyone asked where the hell he'd been. Hunter gave him the side eye pretty much constantly throughout their next six meetings and Seth attempted to pay attention and pretended his mind wasn't drifting anymore.
Dean ignored him, Roman acted like he was a scuff on the floor whenever he passed and Seth was okay with that. Mostly.
Dean would sooner spit in his coffee or key his car than say hello to him in person, but Roman was a different matter. Seth couldn't get a read on him; never seen him really angry enough to know what he was capable of. He was too serene, Seth didn't get it.
And it wasn't like Seth was waiting around for something to happen, it was just that he felt like his whole life was hanging by a thread and any second his phone would buzz and he's choose to answer, and that thread would snap.
It didn't really matter how many times he told himself he didn't care or didn't want in, his dick still reacted to Dean like it always had, and as usual his head was running around behind it playing catch up. It was exhausting.
So maybe he was waiting, a little.
When the call finally comes it takes all his strength to keep his hands steady enough to find his phone in the bombsite mess of his gym bag. The changing rooms are almost empty, the showers are going, it's safe.
'You actually answered.' Roman.
'What do you want.' Seth chews on his lip and leans against his locker. It's weird. It's so deeply weird he doesn't know what to do.
'I want you to admit you like watching us screw, and then I'll let you do it some more.' His voice is husky and low.
Seth stays quiet for a moment because his mind is going blank.
'Not a chance.' Is all he can come up with and he's actually marginally proud of himself for about five seconds.
'No? Sure? It would be a shame; Dean's really enjoying this. It really gets him going.'
Seth shuts his eyes briefly, rubs at them and when he looks up again the room is blurry. 'Sounds like he's more into me than you. Too bad, headcases really aren't my type.'
'I know your type, Rollins. Gagged and on their knees. Headcases especially because they're just that much more willing, that's your type, right?'
Seth searches for something, anything, and comes back with flashes of memories that send waves of heat and mortification shooting down through him. Roman keeps talking. 'Yeah, he told me all of it. Say what you like, I know you're still fucked up over him or we wouldn't be having this conversation. Keep pretending you don't care, we'll get there eventually.'
He's so unaffected by everything it makes Seth want to punch him.
'How the fuck-'
'You think you can resist him? You're really telling me it doesn't burn your heart out to see us together?'
'I'm not interested Roman, okay, and Dean-'
'He wants you, you know. He fucking hates you, but he still wants you.'
Seth swallows, sinks down onto the bench and stares straight ahead. That was a special kind of pain. The grip on his phone is too tight. He's lying.
'Maybe not as much as he wants me, but you did break his heart, so…'
It slips out from under him, fast and lashing, 'It must hurt to know you'll always be his second choice. Do you make a habit of picking up leftovers, or is he an exception?' Viciousness feels good, like a barrier of normalcy between them, protecting him. It crumbles a little when Roman laughs.
'You talk about him like you don't jack off thinking about me fucking him every night. Anyway it would be a shame to let an ass like this go to waste.'
'That's -do, you really think-'
Like this. Like this?
'Is he there right now?' Seth's getting flustered, something about the way Roman speaks is going straight to his dick and he's bad at hiding it. Really, really bad.
'You're on speaker, baby.'
'This is bullshit, you're both insane-'
'-He can't talk right now, he's a little occupied.'
Seth takes a breath and scratches at the back of his neck. He wants to know. God, he wants to know-
'You want a photo?'
'No.'
'Just say the word, I'll show you.'
There's no going back after this, but was there anything worth going back to? A boring bullshit personal life where he couldn't trust anyone, or this? A familiar relationship, if not damaged and twisted beyond repair, made safe by the fact no one could ever find out about it?
'Okay.'
'Okay what?'
'Show me. I wanna see.'
'That's what I like to hear.'
'Fuck off.'
Roman has already stopped listening and Seth thinks he might be about ready to puke. He wants to hit something, fuck something, he wants to -
'Come here.' Roman's voice, so gentle but commanding. 'Ya boy wants to see what we've been doing all afternoon.'
Seth's leg jogs up and down restlessly and his eyes dart to the door at every tiny sound but no one interrupts him. Twenty seconds of taught silence and then Roman is back.
'Done.'
Seth pulls the phone away from his ear and slides the screen across to messages. He opens the most recent and forgets himself, forgets everything when he sees the photo.
Dean on his knees squinting in bright light like a curtain has been pulled open just for Seth, Roman's hand in his hair, pulling his head back. A tie stuffed in his mouth and knotted behind his head like a gag. He's sweaty but his hair is dry and his eyes are half open, his cheeks a slapped colour of red. Seth can only see his bare torso but his arms are twisted behind his back and Seth's imagination fills in the rest.
He wishes he'd never seen it and wants to see more at the same time. It feels lecherous and invasive and disgusting but an embarrassingly large part of him adores the obedient vulnerability of it. Dean always liked being used.
For a quick, heady second he forgets he's still on the phone and a new photo pops up.
Mostly the same as before but the gag is pulled down around Dean's neck and two of Roman's fingers are shoved right back into Dean's mouth to the knuckle.
'Oh my god.' Seth murmurs and he jumps when he hears Roman breathe a quiet laugh.
'You like that don't you?'
Its like he's desperately trying to keep his head above water but they're intent on dragging him down. His throat is dry and he has to swallow twice before he speaks.
'Yeah. I do.'
'Wanna see more?'
'Yeah.'
'Too bad.'
Roman hangs up. Seth is left staring at his phone in disbelief, blinking like an idiot.
It takes him a minute or two to calm down enough to stand up, but he still slams the shower stall door so hard he nearly breaks the handle and turns the water to fucking arctic before he gets control of his brain again. He can play this dumbass game better than anyone. He's the king of detachment.
Shuddering and hugging himself under the jets he vows to never speak to either of them again.
