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The silence of the room was broken only by their ragged breathing. The fight was over; the arena and the screams were distant memories now. The only thing real was the tension in their bodies, the sweat, the marks of war still fresh on their skin.
Roman sat at the edge of the bed, bare-chested, the bruises on his back still burning. Dean stood before him, eyes glinting with that flicker of madness that always betrayed him.
“Look at you…” he murmured, moving closer with slow steps. “So damn filthy and beautiful—desirable and breakable all at once.”
Before Roman could respond, Dean grabbed him by the nape and shoved him back, pinning him against the sheets. He climbed on top of him, pressing his wrists to the mattress with brutal strength.
“Don’t move.”
Roman growled—a low sound that broke into a moan when Dean’s mouth found his neck and bit down hard enough to leave an instant purple mark. Teeth scraped, dragged, tore, and Dean smiled against his skin as he listened to the ragged gasps spilling from his partner.
His free hand slid down Roman’s firm stomach, undoing his pants. He yanked them down without care, exposing the thick erection already throbbing from the tension. Dean didn’t waste time: he wrapped a firm hand around it and started stroking, fast and filthy, skin slick beneath his fingers.
“You like that, huh?” he taunted, voice rough against Roman’s ear. “Always so big, always so hard… like you’re just waiting for someone to ruin you.”
Roman’s eyes shut, his breathing breaking into shudders.
“Dean…”
But Dean silenced him by shoving two fingers into his mouth.
“Suck.”
Roman obeyed, sucking hard, saliva coating the fingers. Dean pulled them out with a glistening string of spit, then shoved them inside him without warning. Roman arched, a growl escaping his chest, but Dean didn’t stop—he worked them in hard and fast, stretching him with delicious cruelty.
“That’s it… open up for me.”
When Roman was already gasping, Dean withdrew, and without losing a beat shoved his own pants down. His cock, thick and wet at the tip, aligned with the still-sensitive entrance. He grabbed Roman’s hips and drove in with one brutal thrust.
Roman cried out, voice cracking between pain and pleasure, veins standing out in his neck from the strain. Dean pressed his wrists harder into the bed, fucking him with a vicious rhythm, the wet slap of skin echoing with each animal grunt.
“Fuck, Rom…” Dean panted, sweat dripping from his forehead. “You’re so tight, like you’ve never been opened like this.”
Roman bit his lip, face contorted with intensity, but kept pushing back, taking every stroke as if claiming it.
“More…” he gasped through clenched teeth, voice breaking.
Dean let out a low, wicked laugh.
“I’m gonna give you more than you can handle.”
He released Roman’s wrists to grab his jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes while pounding into him without mercy. The sound of their bodies colliding filled the room, mixing with Roman’s hoarse moans, louder and more desperate each time.
Dean leaned in, foreheads pressed, grunting with each thrust until the bed creaked beneath them.
“Say it,” he demanded. “Tell me you’re mine.”
Roman whimpered, his body trembling, tears mixing with sweat.
“I’m yours… fuck, I’m yours, Dean.”
Dean growled in satisfaction, thrusting harder, deeper, until he drew a raw cry from Roman’s throat. Roman couldn’t hold back—he came hard, hot ropes of cum spilling between them, staining his stomach and Dean’s.
Dean gripped him tighter, panting, and with one final push spilled inside him, filling him with a possessive brutality, as if trying to mark him from the inside out.
They collapsed together, drenched in sweat and fluids, breathing like beasts after the hunt. Dean rested his forehead on Roman’s shoulder, still clinging to him as if he’d never let go.
“You’re mine,” he repeated, lower now, almost a whisper. “And you always will be.”
Exhausted, Roman could only nod, his skin burning, his body shaking.
But deep down, both of them knew that promise wouldn’t last.