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Who could have even imagined this situation? This sort of shit doesn't happen, it just fucking didn't. But here they were, on their knees in a grimy basement that smelled like old motor oil and sweat, a gun literally at their heads.
“Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins.” The hooded figure said, they could hear the grin playing in the familiar voice. “I feel like we've been here time and time again.”
“Take the fucking hood off, Roman!” Dean snapped, anger curling his top lip into a snarl. “We know it's you!”
The backhand was quick and had an authority behind it that meant there would be no fucking around here. The man meant business. The gun never wavered as he pushed the hood back to reveal his own snarl, one fueled by hate and jealously. They knew Roman was beginning to feel the pangs of resentment toward them, but Seth and Dean ignored them...perhaps to their own undoing. It started small- longing looks on car rides as Seth gently tousled Dean's hair, pretending he didn't see when they kissed in secret after Seth stabbed them in the back, the painful stare of someone in lust when they slipped into a hotel room to fuck.
“What do you want, man?” Seth asked and he was also hit with a fierce slap to the face, enough for Dean to almost get to his feet to protect him. But Roman was fast and the gun found a home between dean's eyes, leaving an indent in the skin as he pressed the younger man back to his knees.
“Here's how this is going to go.” Said the Samoan, “you two are going to do exactly what I say, or I'm blowing your brains out. Understand? I've had to sit back and watch you two fall in and out of love and drop me to the wayside like third wheel trash. So now, I really am going to sit back and watch as you two do everything I tell you.”
“You're sick.” Said Seth, gingerly licking at the cut on his lip.
Roman didn't justify that with a response. His lip curled into a devious smirk and he pulled the hammer back on the gun still pointed between Dean's eyes. “Stand up Rollins.”
Seth looked at Dean, unsure what to do. For a moment, he hesitated. It was long enough for Roman to become impatient and he pointed the gun just to the left of Dean and fired. Both men jumped at the explosive sound that tore a hole in the concrete mere inches away from Dean's knee.
“Fuck!” The lunatic fringe yelled, breaths coming in large lungfuls now as adrenaline began to take over.
“I said, stand up Rollins.” Repeated Roman, far calmer than expected. This time, the Architect shot to his feet and stood waiting for whatever would happen next. He would do anything Roman asked as long as it kept he and Dean from ending up splattered on the dirty cement floor. “Now, take your belt off.”
“What?”
Again he fired, this time to the right of Dean, before returning it to the prone man's head.
“Ok! Jesus Christ!” He cried and hastily began working on the leather belt he had managed to put around his waist that morning. Once slipped free of his jean loops, he stood and waited for his next instruction.
“Good, we're learning.” Chuckled Roman and Seth could see Dean growl. “Tie his hands behind his back with it.”
“Fuck you Roman!” Dean yelled, itching to get at the man he would have called a friend a few hours ago.
Again Roman chuckled and repeated the instruction. This time Seth didn't hesitate and Dean made it easier for him by placing his arms in position. Seth wrapped the belt around Dean's wrists and secured it before stepping away with a quick ‘I'm sorry’.
“I've always been curious which one of you was the bottom.” Roman mused as he took a few steps back to admire Dean on his knees, hands behind his back, breaths heavy and angry, watching him with rage filled blue eyes. He'd even say the man was beautiful in this state, helpless and dangerous and lovely. “I always imagined it was you who took it up the ass, Seth. Was I right?”
When neither man answered, he lifted the gun to Seth and yelled the question again. “WAS I RIGHT, SETH!?”
“N-no.”
Roman laughed and knelt down so he could look Ambrose in the eye. “Dean, you surprise me everyday.”
Dean made a move to lunge for him, but Roman was on his feet quickly, gun pointed more directly at Seth, stopping the Lunatic Fringe in his tracks. Once satisfied Dean would cooperate, he gave his next instruction to Seth. “Strip.”
Seth complied and quickly removed his shirt and jeans, kicking them aside, leaving only his boxer briefs to protect any dignity he had. But Roman wasn't having that. “Those too.”
Again Seth complied, leaving him bare to the two men now watching him stand awkwardly in all his nakedness. Romans eyes traveled up his body in admiration, taking in every muscle moving beneath tan skin, everything that had belonged to Dean. A new sense of hate filled him and he pushed the gun to Deans temple, forcing the man's head to tilt ever so slightly. “Now, you're going to suck his dick, Ambrose. You're going to get him nice and hard for you, do you understand?”
Dean only growled his answer, knowing he had no other choice.
Roman grabbed Seth by the arm and positioned him just in front of Dean, holding the gun now to just under the Architects jaw and taking Seth's cock in his hand to line it up for Dean's mouth. “Get to work, Ambrose.”
Dean didn't do as he was told at first, preferring to snarl defiantly at Roman like only Dean could. It took damn near shoving the gun into Seth's mouth for Ambrose to do what was instructed. He opened his mouth and took Seth in, struggling to get any sort of rhythm. Seth moaned despite himself, forgetting just how warm and wet Ambrose's mouth was. It had been a while, a long while, since he had felt his lips wrapped around him, and he missed it. But this wasn't the time or the place to revel in the memory of Ambrose in his bed, so he tried to think of anything he could to fight off his growing erection.
Then Roman moved from his position to crouch next to where Dean was building a rhythm on Seth's hardening dick. Repositioning the gun back to Dean's temple, the younger man stopped, be it from fear or surprise.
“Did I tell you to stop sucking?” Growled Roman. He heard Dean make an indiscernible noise before he tentatively continued bobbing his head on Seth. “Good.”
While Dean worked, Roman used his free hand to unbuckle Dean's jeans and reach inside them to free him before he slowly began stroking him. He chuckled as the man began to moan ever so slightly around Seth, who had by now had his head back and his eyes closed, obviously forgetting about Roman and the gun and just enjoying the feeling of being sucked.
“You sick fucks like this, don't you?” He said, grinning wider as Dean began to harden under his touch.
When he felt he had sufficiently turned them both on, he pulled his hand free of Dean and pulled him off Seth by the hair. The man took in a large lungful of air. The gun was pointed back at Seth, who seemed shocked at the sudden loss of contact. “Get on your knees and fuck him.” Roman said to him deviously. “I want you to make him cum just like you did all those times before.”
Again Seth hesitated, looking at Dean who was immobile thanks to his bound hands and Romans grip on his hair. But Roman was impatient. He forced Dean's head down so his cheek was pressed against the cement floor as his foot found a place on the back of the Lunatics neck. Dean was obviously apprehensive, clenching and unclenching his hands in anticipation. Funnily enough, he wasn't protesting, he was almost pleading with Seth to do it. However, it was a little hard to perform when there was a gun pointed at your chest.
“Did you hear me, Seth?” Roman snarled, standing now.
“Yes, I heard you.” He replied breathlessly. He was painfully hard and ready to take Dean like he had many times before, but he didn't want to hurt him either. “Am I supposed to go in dry?”
Roman laughed, “I thought about it, but no.” He reached into his pocket and tossed Seth a small bottle of lube. “Let's go, Architect. Or I'm shooting him and making you do it anyway.”
“No!” Seth said quickly, “No, I'll do it.”
He knelt behind Dean and pulled his jeans and boxers down to mid thigh, exposing him to Seth. The man gasped at the sudden cold that hit his backside, but was completely incapable to do anything but wait. Seth flipped the cap off the lube and poured some of the clear liquid into his palm and fingers before smoothing them over Dean's entrance. He was trying to make this as pleasant as possible under the circumstances. He inserted one finger and Dean whimpered, pushing back on him for more contact.
This did not go unnoticed by Roman. “You fucking love this, don't you Dean? You're a kinky whore.”
“Hey!” Seth snapped. “There's no need to talk to him like that! We're doing what you asked, so back off!”
“You think this is a game, Seth?”
“I think you've lost your mind and Dean is taking the brunt of your aggression.”
“You're on dangerous ground, Rollins.”
“Dammit Seth!” Dean yelled from his awkward position, squirming now under Romans foot. “Just fucking do it and get it over with!”
Roman grinned and again made a point of directing the still very dangerous gun to Seth's face. “You heard the little slut, do it.”
Seth gulped down his anxiety and ran his lubricated hand over his erection before positioning himself at Dean's entrance. With one final look at Roman, he pushed into him slowly, earning a grunt of what he hoped wasn't pain from the man under him. Dean was so tight around him he had to take a moment to compose himself before he began moving.
“Fuck, Seth…” Dean moaned as the younger man built up a steady rhythm in and out of him. Seth was hitting his spot just right and he hated himself for feeling so good with every snap of the Architects hips.
Roman watched in rapt interest every movement of the two men at his mercy. He took in every sound and whimper, every action and reaction, every indecipherable word that left their mouths. It was gloriously beautiful to have them under his control like this, watching them do everything he told them. They couldn't ignore him now.
Dean was moaning loudly and Roman knew he wouldn't last much longer, so he pressed the gun to his temple. “Don't you fucking cum until I tell you to, Ambrose! I want you to beg for it!”
“Fuck you!” He grunted as Seth continued to pump in and out.
“That goes for you too, Rollins.” He added. “Don't either of you spill until I say so, or someone is getting a hole where they don't want it.”
As a result of this statement, Seth slowed his movements to a gentle rolling of his hips in hopes of helping Ambrose hold off his inevitable orgasm. But he didn't know how long he would be able to last, already feeling the tightening in his abdomen.
“God damn, you two are amazing.” Said Roman with a smirk. “Working together to keep each other safe. It's adorable.”
“Fuck…” Dean drolled out, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut at the intensity of his impending orgasm. He needed to cum. He needed it now. “Please!”
Roman cocked an eyebrow. “What was that, Dean? I didn't quite hear you.”
He grunted again as Seth shifted ever so slightly and began brushing at his prostate over and over. “Please, Roman!”
“Please what?”
“God dammit!” He damn near screamed. “I need to cum, let me cum!”
Roman laughed, but didn't give him permission just yet. “What about you Rollins? Do you need to cum too?”
“I fucking hate you, Roman!” Seth ground out through gritted teeth.
“Well, Deano can't cum unless you beg me for it.”
“Please!”
“That wasn't good enough, Rollins.” Sneered Roman. “Louder.”
“Fucking hell, PLEASE!”
“i'm feeling generous.” He said and finally let his boot off of Dean's neck. “You have to the count of ten to finish, then we start over. Ten…”
Seth sped up his thrusts and Dean moaned and groaned with every insertion.
“Nine…”
Dean tried to will the orgasm forward, but for some reason it wouldn't come.
“Eight…”
They could feel the tension building. A few more thrusts…
“Seven…”
“Six…”
“Five…”
“Four…”
“Three…”
Finally Dean was the first to reach his orgasm with a strangled cry as he came all over his pants and the floor. Seth followed shortly thereafter and pulled out of Ambrose only to fall panting onto his hands and knees.
Roman grinned and knelt down so he could look both men over. “That was worth every second…”