Fandom: All Elite Wrestling
Rating: 18+
Pairing: Jon Moxley/Darby Allin
Additional Tags: Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Biting, Scratching
Summary: Moxley helps Darby blow off some steam and clear his head before his match at WrestleDream.
Original Date Of Publication: December 2, 2023
Notes: An AEW Kinkmeme prompt fill.
"How much for a good time, sweetheart?"
Moxley brazenly runs his hand up under Darby's fluffy coat and rests it on the small of his back. How the fuck a big, clumsy man like him can manage to sneak up on Darby is beyond him, but it startles him out of his skin. He's too far in his head about his match tonight, he just can't focus on anything else.
"What do you want?" He snaps, shaking him off.
"Tense, huh? Thought I might help out with that." Mox cracks his gum and smiles, all loose and lopsided.
Of course he's relaxed, he doesn't have to wrestle tonight at all. He's had an easy night, just sitting back and watching his boys fight. Darby has to go at least two rounds, probably three, with a guy that wants to put him in the ground. And just because Luchasaurus isn't at ringside, doesn't mean he can't still fight dirty. Speaking of Luchasaurus, he hasn't seen Nick at all since his match. He wasn't in the locker room, wasn't in medical, wasn't even in catering. Like he's avoiding him. And that's really fucking weird. Darby spirals and buries himself in his own thoughts again, and Moxley puts a hand on his shoulder. He doesn't even react this time, scowling at the floor and picking at the edge of his nail. Pretty pink acrylics. Hell of a choice for a wrestling match. Moxley takes his hand and looks at them closer.
"Cute. You do 'em yourself, or go to a salon?"
Darby grumbles. "Nick's mom. Did them for me."
"Sweet gal. Be a shame to ruin her hard work." This time, Darby doesn't fight when he rests a hand on his hip. Not even when he leans in and noses up to his ear.
"Y'know, they still got me a trailer even though I'm outta action. How's about I give you somethin' to dig those pretty claws into, work out some of those nerves?"
"... Yeah, sure."
Darby's gonna have to scrub the red from under his nails before he even gets into the ring, and Moxley's gonna have some fun marks to explain to Renee later. He whipped his shirt off as soon as he stepped into the trailer to make good on his offer, but pinned Darby against the wall before he could shrug out of his absurd barbie coat, locking him in a bruising kiss. It's only fair he gets to bite at Darby's lips, when his acrylics are already biting into his shoulders. Rough, rabid, and hasty. Slapdash and sloppy, fuck, Moxley spends so much time doing nice, structured scenes with his BCC boys nowadays, he kinda misses just hooking up like this. Darby kicks him out if he even attempts any kind of aftercare, and that's fine. Right now he's standing up on his toes, rutting against his leg until he shoves it between his thighs, practically lifting him up off the floor with it.
"Oh-- ffffuck me," Darby groans.
Moxley nips at his jaw, sharp enough to make him hiss. "That's the plan, yeah."
He slips his hand down the back of Darby's shorts and tights and sucks in a breath when he finds the distinct texture of lace."What's this, babydoll?" He hooks his fingers in and yanks the waistband up out of Darby's shorts, and a reedy whine from his chest. He peeks over his shoulder.
Pink.
Like his coat. Like his nails. Like his kissed and bitten lips. Like his cheeks, now.
"These for me?" Moxley grins, butting heads with Darby so he can't hide his face. "Were you planning this, did I fall into your little trap?
Darby's birdlike nose scrunches as he scowls back at him. He doesn't answer, though. Moxley chuckles, and kisses and licks at his pursed lips like a puppy until he gives up and lets him back in. He'll ask some other time, when he's not so tightly wound. He'll fuck it right out of him.
"Hold on, doll. Movin'."
Darby hops up and wraps his arms and legs around Moxley. There's a little loveseat in the trailer, but he opts for the vanity desk instead. He sweeps water bottles and snack wrappers off it before setting Darby down on it. His crystal blue eyes have gone dark and glassy like they always do when he's picked up and moved around like this. Like, well, a doll. He looks like one right now, too. Before putting on his facepaint, in a nest of pink fur, with his bleached hair and tanned skin and slim physique, he's smack in the middle of the Barbie-Ken spectrum. Maybe a little more Barbie, with that pink lace peeking out.
Moxley unbuttons Darby's shorts and teases them and his tights down his legs an inch at a time, until Darby kicks him in the shoulder.
"Knock it off."
Moxley rolls his eyes. "Jesus, kids these days don't appreciate foreplay."
"You're full of shit," Darby scoffs. "Neither do you."
"Mm, you don't know that. Been a long time since we caught up..."
Moxley butts and nuzzles his face into the crook of Darby's neck. He relaxes almost instantly at the scrape of teeth on his skin.
"I've been learnin' all kinds of weird shit from Bryan lately..."
He grins and hooks his fingers in the waistband of Darby's panties. He pulls them up, up, squeezing the flat gusset tight against the cock and balls it wasn't made to hold. Darby tries to arch and relieve the pressure, and Moxley just follows him, kissing and lapping up the whimpers that spill from the corners of his lips.
"So who's been teachin' my babydoll weird shit, huh? Did Sting buy you these, that old perv?"
"I bought them and I'm not yours," Darby snaps. He's starting to regret following Moxley to his trailer, even as he finally relents and rubs his erection through his panties.
"No?" Moxley smirks. "Wanna test that? I bet this pussy still remembers me."
His hand ventures down further, big fingers nudging lace aside and finding Darby's asshole. The nervous sweat collected in his crack offers just enough slick to wriggle the tip of one inside. He tugs on the wrinkled ring as he hums low against Darby's jaw.
"I think it does."
Darby gasps as the rest of Moxley's finger pushes in with a distinct burn. "Fuck."
"Yeah, I bet I could. Dry. You'd like that, huh, baby?"
Darby's acrylics rake Moxley's shoulders again in response. The bloom of pain, the contrasting "Yes please fuck me" message it conveys, brings a wide, dopey smile to his face. He pulls his finger back out, and kisses Darby stupid before he can complain. Tongue-first, practically fucking him with it. Tasting his molars. He leaves him panting when he bites and pulls on his lip in his retreat.
"Maybe some other time. Not when you got a match in half an hour."
It takes a moment longer for Darby's scowl to return. "Pussy," he spits.
Moxley chuckles and lubes himself up.
"Tell ya what. If you can still walk after Christian beats your ass, gimme a call 'n I'll fix that."
Before Darby can cut a promo about how he's not gonna lose in his hometown, he's stuffed too full of cock to speak. His retort dies in his throat not with a scream, but with a pitiful little whimper. Moxley kisses the suddenly wet corners of his eyes and runs his big hands up his torso. They might not see each other much anymore, but he still pays attention to Darby in the ring. Not a lot of losses lately. Especially not to the kinds of guys that used to love taking him to the Winner's Room for a victory lap. No friends in his corner anymore that can reliably get it up, either.
It occurs to Moxley, then, that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to shove his dick up Darby's ass without any foreplay or prep, even with lube. But Darby hasn't made any attempt to unwrap his legs from his waist. He hasn't tried to push him away. He's still soaking a transparent spot in his panties. His nails have broken through Moxley's skin, and hot blood wells up around them.
"Fuck me," Darby slurs. Already wrecked, and Moxley's just sitting still, buried inside him.
Moxley tweaks one of his nipples and stamps a wet kiss on his cheek, smushing his lips against his face.
"Ask me nicely, doll."
"Please, Mox." No hesitation this time.
He really misses this part of fucking Darby. When he hits a certain threshold of pain in the ring, he goes feral. But outside of it, like this, he goes sweet and soft like taffy. Moxley bites and tugs at his earlobe as he pulls out. Slow, so Darby can savor the barely-slick drag. He stops again with just the head of his cock still breaching him.
"Again. Ask for it," he growls.
"Fuck me, please--"
Darby's claws sear white-hot lines down Moxley's back. Moxley answers by twisting his other nipple even harder. In this manner, they fall into a feedback loop. Teeth and nails digging into each other's skin. Someone's blood shared between their mouths-- maybe both. Breaths shared, hot and heavy, as Moxley bows his head and fucks Darby like an animal. And Darby takes it like they just left off yesterday, not three years ago. He's got some more tattoos, but the same baby blues gaze up in rapture, occasionally rolling back and squeezing shut when Moxley jams his dick against the right spot. His same old babydoll that needs some rough play now and then to grind down his prickly nerves.
"Bet it's been ages since you've been fucked right, huh? Been all bent outta shape with nobody to hammer you out..."
Moxley punctuates with a few particularly hard thrusts. The vanity creaks and bangs against the trailer wall. Darby groans and nods loosely. Moxley wants more from him, though. His hair is just long enough to grip between his knuckles and tug his head back.
"Didn't hear ya that time, baby. Who fucks you right?"
He paws at the hard, damp bulge in Darby's panties. The coarse lace drags and chafes his tip, near-painful and completely maddening.
"You, da-- oh, fuck, daddy--!"
Darby can't restrain himself. He lets out a long, hoarse cry, scratching Moxley's chest. Moxley pulls out, quick, and tucks his cock into Darby's panties. He takes them both in hand, sliding through the mess of cum and lube.
"Fuck yeah, babydoll. Daddy's got what you need."
Oversensitive and overstimulated, Darby squirms in his grip. Rough and velvet smooth at the same time. After Moxley comes, his panties are totally soaked through. Moxley makes sure to wipe his dick clean on the way out, to leave as much as possible squishing and squelching around Darby's. The boy's still dazed as he helps pull his tights back up, only shooting him a dirty look for it. Moxley smirks and kisses his forehead.
"Keep 'em on like this. Don't forget we got a date later."
Darby scoffs. "I'm not gonna lose."
He hops off the vanity when Moxley gives him some space, and puts his shorts back on. He makes another little face about it. Moxley palms his skull and kisses the top of his head on the way out.
"Good. I did my job. Go 'n do yours, doll, you're on in ten."
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