Rose & Thorn: Becky/Dean

Chapter 1

"Now that we're all warmed up," Dean said, easing his cock out of Seth's mouth, "what next?" He leaned back against the headboard, careful not to put too much pressure on Seth's arm. His Shield brother was shackled to the bed by his wrists and his feet, still gasping for air after the thorough pounding Roman had given him. Dean had enjoyed his very raspy blowjob, but he still felt restless. Whenever The Shield went to Rose & Thorn, they usually fucked each other first. They used to hook up on the road, but as soon as they were better known, people started paying more attention to them, and Hunter had warned them to keep their hook-ups discreet. That was Rose & Thorn's specialty, one people paid quite handsomely for, and Dean could understand why: at this location alone, he had seen ten movie stars—including one who claimed to be a virgin waiting for marriage—along with members of a well-known boy band, and a quarterback from his favourite football team. It was all on the honour system, of course, but he hadn't heard of any leaks so far.

"Seth was eyeing up that chick in the green dress," Roman pointed out, sitting at the foot of the bed and unlocking the shackles around Seth's ankles. "Want to see if she's still available?"

Dean tried to think back to the women they had seen on their floor. The only one he could remember in a green dress definitely wasn't his type. It was a stretch to say she was in the dress, since her boobs were falling out of the top and the bottom didn't even try to cover her ass, but he knew some people liked that sort of look. "Not for me," Dean replied, "but if you two are into her, go ahead I'll wander around and see if I can find someone who doesn't look like she took two watermelon halves, painted them with spray tan, and pasted them to her chest." Then he looked over at Seth. "Want me to undo your wrists for you before I go?"

Seth shook his head. Even though he had wet his hair down when they got to their room, it was already dry and frizzy again, and he blew some curls out of his face. "Nah. Stay with me while Roman goes shopping?" he asked, dark eyes pleading.

Dean hated it when Seth played the Bambi-eyes card, but he supposed waiting a few minutes wouldn't impede his own search too much. "Sure." Then he straddled Seth's thighs before turning to Roman. "Go find yourselves a girl," he said. "I'll keep him company until you get back."

Roman gave him a mock salute before pulling on his pants, grabbing the room key, and heading for the door. "If you want to tag back in," he replied, "you know where will be." They hadn't bothered getting multiple room keys since they had the room booked for the night; each of their membership cards would also grant them access.

"Aye aye, Captain." After Roman left, Dean grabbed a handful of Seth's curls and kissed him. "You know, if you had better taste in women, you'd be damn near perfect."

Seth's laugh turned to a groan as Dean pressed down on his cock. "Can't have that. Everyone knows you like the messed-up ones."

"Well, I guess there's something messed up about wanting boob implants that are bigger than your head, but my preferred flavour of fucked up is a little less plastic." He kissed his way down to Seth's neck and bit hard, making Seth buck up underneath him. "But have your fun. I'm sure I'll find some flavour of crazy out there." They had shared a lot of different types of women during their visits to the club, but he just wasn't in the mood to settle tonight.

Seth glanced up at his bound wrists. "Think it gives the wrong impression?" He usually had Dean tie his wrist guards before a match so they were nice and tight.

Shaking his head, Dean moved down between Seth's legs and licked him clean. "Nah. Chicks dig bracelets, remember?" When Seth started to moan, Dean pulled back. "Don't want to ruin the rest of your evening," he smirked, giving Seth's cock a quick squeeze before rolling off the bed. "Shit. Which shirt is mine?" He and Seth were pretty close in height, but their taste in jeans different widely. Shirts, however, were a different story, and they had often messed up and ended up wearing the other man's shirt back to the hotel. If any of their friends noticed, they just laughed and said it was a hell of a party.