Work Text:
It’s Dean’s suggestion to eat at the hotel and he’s glad that Roman doesn’t question it.
Actually, he rolls his eyes at it, because at this point, if Roman hears the words ‘food’ or ‘eat’, he doesn’t give a shit what it is as long as he can put it in his mouth and swallow.
Dean chuckles at the double entendre just as Roman turns to face him, the phone receiver pressed against his chest.
“Whaddaya want?” Roman asks, in a somewhat impatient tone.
Dean’s sure Roman’s oblivious to glaze in his own eyes and the excitement in his voice. He lifts his head off of his pillow, peering at Roman.
Another laugh and he turns over on his side, his baby blues looking at the glittering night outside of the window.
“Whatever you’re gettin’.” Dean replies, waving his hand in the air, insouciant.
He sees Roman nod and turn back around in his peripheral, but he doesn’t pay attention to the rest of the conversation.
As hungry as he is, Dean’s more tired than anything else, so when he passes out to the lull of Roman’s murmurings, he’s not surprised and he doesn’t really mind either.
When he wakes up, Dean sees Roman in front of him. The Samoan is huddled over something Dean can’t see, but from what he does see is Roman’s back muscles working underneath his grey tank top.
Dean sits up, putting in no effort to be quiet, but Roman doesn’t stir from what he was doing.
When Roman doesn’t give him attention, Dean crawls to his best friend’s side, seeing a tray with a plate on top of it, silver top covering it.
He stares at it curiously, as he settles himself on the edge of the bed, not used to whatever fancy shit Roman ordered.
He was honestly expecting a burger and some fries, not… He pulls back the top and finds what he was imagining; some huge, delicious looking steak, a mound of mash potatoes and an unnecessarily large slice of apple pie.
It looks nice, don’t get him wrong, but they just got back from a show and Dean’s not up for sleeping on a heavy stomach.
A low hum and a sharp bounce takes Dean’s attention and looks over at Roman.
The big man’s already almost done with his food, which makes Dean raise an eyebrow because his food’s still steaming, meaning that it hadn’t been too long since the food was delivered.
Dean eyes Roman up and down, watching with a sick fascination as the rest of the food meets its end by Roman’s mouth.
“How long was I out?” He inquires without thinking about it.
“Maybe 45 minutes.” Roman answers immediately after swallowing whatever he was chewing.
Dean nods, focusing on how Roman opens his mouth, like he’s a fucking snake, and his tongue lolls out to take in the next enormous bite of pie.
His lips close around the fork and he lets out a pleased noise. Dean’s automatically light headed as all the blood in his brain shoots down into his pants, but he doesn’t have the power to look away.
This is the reason why he insisted on eating at the hotel, in their room. He wanted a show all to himself. Dean licked his lips.
“When’d the food get here? Gotta heat it up?” Roman shakes his head, taking another gulp before speaking. “Nah. Just got here.”
‘He says with a destroyed plate.’ Dean thinks.
Before Dean can say anything else, Roman’s shoulders jump again, this time that low hum a full blown hiccup. Roman puts a hand to his throat as his face twists in pain.
He hiccups again, groaning at the sudden discomfort in his chest. Dean’s sure there’s no blood left in his body except his dick now.
He scoots closer to Roman, his hand resting on Roman’s stomach. When Roman winces, Dean smirks.
“Aww… Did the Big Dog eat too fast? Sure as hell ate too much.” Roman looks at Dean, his face caught in between a scowl and a bashful expression.
“Shut up. I’m fine.”
“Are you now?” Dean challenges. His hand trails down, then under Roman’s somewhat straining tank top.
He heaves a breath at the skin to skin contact, surprised at how hot and taunt Roman’s belly is.
It’s still squishy though, on the sides, and Dean can’t help but to squeeze them. Roman’s eyes snap shut and he whimpers from the pinch.
“That doesn’t sound like you’re fine, Ro.” Dean murmurs, rubbing at Roman’s stomach gently and moving closer, leaning up to his ear.
He bites at his earlobe, before continuing, “You ate a lot, huh? Roman…” Dean kisses at his neck and he feels him try to leave his touch.
“No… No, I didn’t.” Roman whispers, Dean catching the drop in his tone as well as the shyness coloring his voice.
Another hiccup jolts from Roman’s throat, betraying him, and his hand flies to his mouth.
Dean stifles a laugh just barely as he moves his hand back to Roman’s middle, spreading his fingers over the expansive canvas.
“’S okay. Just means my boy’s fed well. Means ya happy.” His hands drew nonsensical patterns down Roman’s skin, dropping to his thigh.
“You liked it, yeah? Eating all that food? I bet it taste good. Did it taste good, Roman?” Dean cooed, leaning closer until Roman’s back fell to the bed.
Dean put both hands on each of Roman’s thighs, slapping them and watching the waves beneath his skin. Roman grunted from the sudden attack, his lip getting caught between his teeth.
“I mean, it must’ve if you ate all of it in that short amount of time. It made you happy right?” Dean asks as his hands knead and pull at Roman’s thighs.
Roman stared at Dean, his bashfulness even more prominent if possible. His arms wrapped around his stomach and his thighs trembled in a need of closing in on each other, as well as being under Dean’s touch.
Dean shook his head and lifted Roman’s left leg over his shoulder.
“Uh-uh. Don’t pull that shit on me, Reigns.” He reprimanded, using his free hand to grab at Roman’s wrist.
He pulled away one of Roman’s arms and placed his hand back on his stomach before Roman could cover up again.
“Fuckin’ beautiful, Rome.” He muttered as he turned his head to kiss at Roman’s calf.
“No. It was an accident.” Roman sputters out, before a moan slips out, from Dean now nibbling at his thigh.
“Accident, my ass. I’ve been watching you and you’ve been stuffing your face for the past couple of weeks like the world’s gonna fuckin’ end.” Dean growls, biting at Roman’s thigh again.
He pauses to groan, letting his tongue roll over the mark, because damn, he just loves how plushy and mouth filling Roman feels.
He turns his eyes down to Roman and Roman’s quick to avoid eye contact and he doesn’t seem to have an excuse to battle back with.
“Admit it. You like this. You like eating and bein’ all soft and shit.” Dean continues, squeezing Roman’s stomach again.
This time, Roman actually arches into his touch and its then that Dean’s got his answer, but Dean wants to hear it. He leans away and digs his fingers into Roman’s shorts and pulls them down slowly.
He then spreads Roman’s legs apart, that entrancement coming back as he sees Roman’s pudgy parts shake under the force.
Dean moves forward, placing himself between Roman’s legs, before he dips down and lets his tongue skate over the inside of Roman’s thighs.
“Admit it.” Roman’s breath catches in his throat and he moans, whether from Dean’s teasing or the heat that engulfing him, he doesn’t know.
More than likely both.
His hips jerk up when Dean sinks his claws into his sides. Dean’s mouth is getting closer and closer to the winning spot, but he purposely misses, going from one thigh to the other.
“Admit it.” He demands against Roman’s skin.
He goes a little deeper into his thigh and nips at a particular spot that has Roman moaning like they didn’t have neighbors.
Dean cut his eyes up, seeing Roman staring back at him, mouth parted and panting, face glowing red and eyes foggy with desire. With a smirk, Dean bites that spot again and Roman’s head falls back onto the pillow as he breathes out an expletive.
“Dean… Please.” He says weakly, arms going up to his face in an effort to cover it. Dean shakes his head.
“Admit it.” He replies, before licking his way back up to Roman’s dick.
He pulls down Roman’s briefs, engrossed by how his cock bounces free and is almost touching Roman’s stomach. It’s a moment before Dean shakes himself back to reality, because he’s finding himself never wanting to suck dick so hard in his life.
He almost drools at the sight.
He leans down, breathing heavy over the head, tongue hanging out his mouth and threatening to connect, but he moves at the last moment.
Dean pouts as he leans away, and Roman lifts his arms slightly, wondering why Dean’s stopped now.
The blonde takes his hands away and puts them on himself. He strips off his shirt, and pulls down his sweats a little, freeing his own hard on.
Dean lets his eyes flutter shut, licks his hand and puts it on his cock, stroking himself painfully slow.
He doesn’t put a filter on his mouth, letting whatever loud moan fly free and echo off the walls.
He thinks about Roman.
Thinks about sucking Roman off, getting his hands on every inch of skin he can, getting to dig his teeth into Roman’s thickening ass.
“Oh my God…” Dean grinds out, his hand moving faster now. That last thought was enough to push him close.
“OKAY! I LIKE IT!” Roman shouts, making Dean stop suddenly.
Dean opens his sapphire eyes and meets Roman’s storm colored ones. “What?” He asks, voice raspy.
“I like it. I like to eat and I like the extra weight.” Roman confesses, sitting up and leaning towards Dean.
“I love to feel full. It makes me happy.” He propels forward, hands flying to Dean’s neck, and kisses the blonde hard.
Their tongues dance together, drawing out pleased groans from each man. Roman pulls back first, letting their foreheads touch, breathing heavily.
“And I know you love it too. You’re 50 percent of the reason of why I eat so much.”
Roman places a hand on Dean’s chest, dragging his fingertips down until he’s reached Dean’s leaking cock.
He wraps his hand around it and picks up where Dean left off. Dean hisses and rocks his hips into Roman’s hands.
“I know you like to grab me, and pinch me, and… watch me jiggle.” Roman laughs sheepishly while Dean moans at the imagery racing through his mind.
“You say you’ve been watching me. I’ve been watching you too. I know you watch me eat and you get hard over it. And I know you lie when you say you’re full so I can finish it.”
The tiny piece of consciousness Dean has left is slightly ashamed that Roman’s caught him playing this game, but the present Dean only bites his lip and groans at the truth.
Roman licks at Dean’s lips and Dean connects them again.
As they kiss, Roman grabs Dean’s hand, lacing their fingers and puts them on his stomach, rubbing at chub there.
“All for you. All for you.” Roman whispers against Dean’s lips and Dean comes soon after, mouth agape as he moans and kisses Roman through his climax.
Roman’s own face twitches, as Dean spills hot and sticky all over his hand, feeling pretty near himself.
He knows Dean didn’t do much, but all the teasing and watching Dean jerk himself got to him quickly.
All of a sudden, Roman’s pushed back onto the mattress, Dean’s panting form above, mischievous smirk on his lips.
“Pretty motherfucker.” Is all he says before diving down and taking Roman’s erection into his mouth.
Roman gasps, his silver irises being shut off from the world as he grasped at the cover below him.
Dean sucks and licks and nips at him like he’s eating a popsicle and Roman’s not sure if he can hold on any longer.
He puts a hand in Dean’s hair, fingers tangling in his blonde locks, but caught between pulling Dean away or pushing him lower.
“Dean… Dean…!” He whines. “Bout to…” Dean doesn’t stop, bobbing up and down, licking here and there.
He even scratches his nails down that spot inside Roman’s leg, which has the Samoan coming in an instant.
Dean slurps it all loudly and makes sure he licks Roman clean before leaning back.
“Damn.” Dean wipes away the residue on his mouth with the back of his hand and climbs to the top off the bed.
He flops beside Roman and caresses his cheek. Roman faces him and they kiss again, smiling happily at each other once it was over.
“Now that’s something I can munch on every day.” Dean remarks, biting into Roman’s softening bicep.
Roman chuckles and presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead. “Shut up.”