A/N: Every year I try to write my friend Max a little something for her birthday, and this is this year's edition of that. Features a brief cameo by her OC (and no I don't usually put other people's ones in my stuff, but she gets to be the exception).

A lot of people thought he had chosen Dean because he saw him as weak. Bray knew that to be a fact, even if they didn't dare say it out loud. They saw Dean as someone he could take advantage of. Someone with a whirlwind of emotions that could never be controlled. Someone whose mind was a constant storm, one that threatened to send him into a tailspin that he would never come back from. But that wasn't true. The unstable moniker that the incompetent announcers and merchandise people slapped him with was an embarrassingly painful lie. Maybe he was wired a bit differently like Bray himself, but he wasn't out of controlled. He knew what he was doing at all times. He didn't need saved from himself.

Anyone at the wrong end of his path was who needed saving.

"Do you think they have ritualistic sex in the swamp?"

The question made Bray raise his eyebrows. He was lingering in the shadows of catering, watching Dean's match, which was playing on the monitor. Nobody had noticed him yet, which was he wanted things to stay. But even without being noticed, he was clearly still on the minds of some. The question had come from the table closest to him, which was occupied by Seth and Sara. Sara had been the one to ask the question, the Deadman's daughter nearly making Rollins choke on his food.

"Fucking come on Sara," Seth grumbled as he regained his breath. He had come to the show to have a meeting with Hunter and Stephanie, though just what all that had entailed Bray didn't know and didn't care to find out. "I don't want to think about Wyatt's sex life. That's just way, way too weird for me to even deal with."

"Because he's banging your ex-boyfriend?"

"He wasn't my boyfriend!"

"Fine. Ex-fuck buddy, whatever." Even though Bray couldn't see her face, Bray knew she was rolling her eyes. "Point is, you know Wyatt's got to be into some seriously kinky stuff. Like blood and chains and chanting in like, Latin or whatever. Maybe he like, fucks Dean on an altar and offers Dean up to his gods."

"Haven't actually fucked him on an altar though," Bray finally spoke, making the other two jump as they turned to face him. "I should though." He winked at Sara, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "Thanks for the idea darlin'." He glanced around them, grinning in satisfaction as he saw that Dean had taken control in the match. He always loved watching him go. Dean moved in such a frenzy, but it was still perfectly controlled, even if it didn't look that way. Dean had such a mind for the business. He knew what he wanted to do and why he wanted to do it. He studied tapes for hours, watching his idols and trying to find ways he could utilize what they did. He noticed all the little things that even Bray himself managed to miss. That was what made the words of the idiot announcers even more infuriating. Dean was so smart. The fact that he was degraded into being an out of control idiot was grossly unfair.

The bell rang, and Dean's hand was raised as the victor. Bray nodded in satisfaction before getting up and taking his leave. He went straight to their shared locker room, knowing it was better to wait there than go to gorilla and meet Dean up there. The last time he did that, he had ended up shoving Dean up against the nearest wall and nearly giving Becky Lynch, Titus O'Neil and the make-up ladies quite a show.

He paced around the room, grateful that he already had his match. He had been able to send Luke, Erick and Braun on up ahead to the next town. Luke and Braun didn't care for Dean in the least; even if they kept their mouths shut about it, Bray could still sense that. Erick didn't seem to actually mind him, but Bray still wanted him out of the way. He wanted - no, needed - an entire night with Dean. Sure, he had gotten that just the night before, but just that wasn't enough. He needed more. He always needed more. It was probably something he needed to be concerned about. It was becoming an obsession, one that was growing all the time. But even with that self awareness, Bray didn't want it to stop. He wanted to be consumed, and wanted to take Dean with him.

The door opened and Dean stepped inside, the younger man slamming it shut right behind him. His blue eyes were shining brightly, the thrill of the fight still coursing through him. His tank top, which had been halfway ripped off during the match itself, had been ditched completely now. He still clutched his belt, his knuckles nearly white at his grip. He stopped a few feet from Bray, taking long, deep breaths as they just stared at each other. Bray smirked, slowly stepping forward. He knew Dean was waiting for him to speak. Waiting for him to say something that would be considered annoying and give Dean the excuse he needed to silence him with a kiss.

"Come 'ere," Bray did speak, but it was an order rather than one of his usual observations. He grabbed Dean by one of the belt loops of his jeans and pulled him forward. He claimed his lips with a kiss, teeth sinking into the other man's lower lip and biting down harshly. Dean hissed loudly, a hand punching Bray's chest before he caved and started kissing him back. Bray's hands slid over Dean's body, nails already raking across his body. He loved the way the smaller man shivered as he did it. "Fucking beautiful out there." He pushed Dean towards the wall, pressing him there as his hands started undoing Dean's jeans. "Fucking love watching you."

Dean chuckled, kicking off his shoes before his hands busied themselves with pulling Bray's cock out of his pants. "Did ya think about everything you wanted to do to me?" His teeth tugged at Bray's lower lip, repaying him for his bite. "Cuz I was thinking it." He smirked, the look in his eyes one of pure teasing now. "Owens had his grubby hands around my neck, and all I could think about was you choking me while you fucked me." He nodded, enjoying the heated look Bray gave him. "I fucking had to bail out of the ring because I got so fucking hard….wanted you to come out there and bend me over the announcer's desk."

"Yeah?" Bray got Dean's yanked off, his socks going with him. He shoved his fingers into the blond's mouth, letting them get nice and wet before removing them and slipping his hand in between Dean's legs. He pushed them inside him one by one, the prep hurried and rough. Dean moaned, trying to move himself against the long, thick digits. "You want everyone to see what I make of you, don't you little lamb?" He crooked his fingers, finding the sweet spot that always made Dean cry out. "You want them to hear how you cry out my name." He chuckled as Dean nodded, his enthusiasm always so beautiful. "You want the whole world to know that you're mine."

Dean kept nodding, his eyes fluttering shut as Bray kept working his fingers. There were so many things Bray could do to him. He could force him down to his knees and fuck his mouth. He could keep teasing him just like this, breaking him down and making him absolutely beg for it. He could go to his bag and get his knife, the blade of which always found its way being traced across Dean's body. But right now, Bray didn't have the patience for any of that. Instead he moved his hand away, lifting Dean up and pressing the head of his cock against Dean's barely stretched hole. Dean's legs locked around Bray's waist, his fingers gripping the back of his shirt as he nodded eagerly.

Bray kissed Dean again as he pushed inside of him, their moans mixing and muffling together. A fire shot through him, and he knew Dean felt it too. Every kiss they shared made Bray feel like he was being reborn. He had thought his true rebirth happened when Abigail had taken him in, but he had been wrong. Dean kept proving him wrong, and for once, he didn't mind that being the case.

Dean's hands gripped his shirt tightly, desperately ripping at the material. The heels of his feet dug into Bray, trying to push him in deeper. He was so tight, so warm, so fucking perfect. Bray moved his mouth off Dean's and let it go to his neck, kissing and sucking and biting all across it. He wanted to leave every inch of his skin covered in marks. He wanted the world to see them and know they were from him. Dean belonged to him - the world borrowed him for a spell, but Dean was ultimately his. And just like Dean was his, he was Dean's in return. Now and forever.

His hips moved faster, his weight helping to keep Dean pressed against the wall as he moved one hand to his neglected cock. He stroked it roughly, his thumb brushing over the head each time it came up. He mumbled words against Dean's neck, words like "beautiful" and "mine". It was all a lowly muttered mantra because he didn't want to tune out the sound of Dean's moans. They were growing louder, no shame from the blond about who could hear him. It was always such a beautiful sound. Bray pulled his head back to watch his face as he came, his own release quickly following.

"Fuck!" Dean gasped out the word, dropping his forehead against Bray's shoulder. All but his hands went slack against Bray. They kept a tight grip on his shirt, not letting him go for an instant. Bray chuckled and placed a kiss against his head. They would need to move soon. Would need to get Dean showered and redressed so they could go to their hotel room for the night. But for now, they were good. They were all good.