Cool-Down

Fandom: All Elite Wrestling

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Jon Moxley/Bryan Danielson

Additional Tags: Intercrural Sex (Thighfucking), Sweat Kink

Summary: A short scene about Bryan letting Mox let off some steam after a match.

Original Date Of Publication: January 6th, 2024

Notes: For Stinkbuggery.


Bryan doesn't get a single moment to rest. He hears Mox pacing in the locker room before he even opens the door, and as soon as he does, he's got all two-hundred twenty-five pounds of fur and sweat and tacky dried blood wrapped around him. Nosing into his neck. Grinding against his hip. He's bullied back against the door, handily giving him the opportunity to lock it.

"Easy, easy, boy. What, Ospreay and Finley weren't enough for you?"

Mox snuffles and gruffs at him. "Didn't want 'em."

Figures. Bryan pries a hand between their bodies to grope at Mox's erection. He humps his hand automatically, licking and biting across his chest, to the other side of his neck. His thumbs hook into Bryan's trunks.

"Not gonna let me shower first?"

Mox shakes his head, with Bryan's skin clamped between his teeth like a bulldog. It pulls a hiss out of him, and despite trying to stay level-headed, he can't help but buck into Mox's thigh, too. He's just been waiting in this blank, too-bright locker room since his match, still amped up with nowhere to dump all his leftover energy. Nobody to catch him. And all by his own stupid choice. Ospreay at least would have sucked him off, probably even let him fuck that fat ass of his (what's the point of flaunting it, otherwise?). Now Bryan has to rush if he wants to shower and make it to the scrum on time, and as much as he'd love to get on the floor for Mox, it's just not in the cards without lube on hand.

"Okay, okay, fuck, let me-- move for a second."

He has to yank Mox back by his belt to get some space between them. Just enough to unzip his pants and fish his cock out. The longer he's kept away, the harder he bites. He can't bring teeth marks to answer polite questions about his match. Bryan spits in his hand and smears it along Mox's length, and when he lets him go he just naturally slots in between his closed legs. Hot and close, threefold wet and slimy with sweat, spit, and precum already oozing from his tip. Mox squeezes him flat against the door, taking his hands off his hips and bracing them on the frame instead. Bryan's face is mashed into his chest as he starts to fuck his thighs, still panting and growling in his ear. God, he reeks of stale sweat. He didn't shower yet either. His chest hair feels coarse with the dried salt of it, and the grime of the ring and the floor outside. He smells just as animal as he feels thrusting in the makeshift cunt Bryan's made for him. He keeps it nice and tight for him, flexing his quads each time he pulls out, going soft when he shoves back in. A perfect push-and-pull, give-and-take that has Mox nipping at the tip of Bryan's ear within a minute to tell him he's close.

Bryan sinks his teeth into the meat of Mox's pec as Mox reaches down to squeeze his hips. He clenches his thighs as hard as he can to bring him over the edge. Mox keeps fucking through his orgasm, though the hot mess of his own cum and several men's sweat collected on their skin. Then, finally, he's still. Relaxed, slumping, making Bryan laugh and hold him up under his armpits to walk him to a bench. He reaches out and tugs at Bryan's trunks again, but Bryan bats his hand away.

"Later. We gotta get cleaned up, I need a cold shower."

He's hard as a rock now, but they really, really don't have time to take care of that the way he wants to.

Maybe he can understand Mox waiting for him, after all.


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