#moxbry

[allelitemag]

[grottomo]

He comes and he goes, But I know that he loves me.

[faggotclaudio]

"When you realize that somebody you loved, and felt like they loved you back - When they betray you...that hits emotionally hard, moreso than any physical violence ever will." - Mox and Bryan

Amanda - Green Day//The Bloody chamber and Other Stories: The Erl-King - Angela Carter//H Of H Playbook - Anne Carson//Black - Motionless in White//Consumed - David Cronenberg//Fuck Time - Green Day//Let's Bury the Hatchet...In Your Head - Ice Nine Kills//Disenchanted - My Chemical Romance//God Save Me - MGK//To Keep from Getting Burned - Motionless in White//Necessary Evil - Motionless in White//One Eyed Bastard - Green Day//Our Lady of Sorrows - My Chemical Romance//She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty - Pierce the Veil//A Hunger Like No Other - S.K. Osborn//Zero Percent - My Chemical Romance

[eldesperadont]

violent husbands. moxley/bryan.

[nagdabbit]

built to last

words: 1.4k

rating: gen, it's fluffy as shit

so the other night i was high off my ass and was like, tell me something silly to write cuz im in the mood to accept prompts, and @sarahcakes613 was like,

and then I vomited this out into existence, fell asleep, woke up and forgot it for several days. so, uh. here? have some stupid fluff?

(also on ao3)

.

He woke to the sharp smack of jeans against his forehead and a sharp, demanding, "What the fuck, Bry?"

"What the fuck what?" he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was still dark out, just a little light shining in from the house next to his own. Everything was still drenched in shadow, but Mox made himself seen.

Mox was standing over him in nothing but his t-shirt and boxers, wide eyed and a little frantic, jeans in hand. His shirt was a little wrinkled from a night on the floor, neck stretched a little from where Bryan had wrenched at it, showing off a few bite marks across his clavicle. 

He waved a frantic hand back behind him, "That, Bryan! What the fuck is that out there?!"

His living room? His kitchen? He couldn't think of anything he owned that would leave Mox looking any kind of spooked. Not really, not like that. "I have absolutely no idea."

He kicked the mattress and gestured again, this time toward the window set into the wall. Toward the house next door, and the dock and the lake outside.

"Oh, that's—"

"That's fuckin' water, Bryan," Mox snapped, and gave him another smack with his jeans. "We are on a boat—Bryan, you put me on a fucking boat."

He lifted an eyebrow. "And let me guess, you don't li—"

"I fuckin' hate boats, Bryan. I hate them. They're dangerous fuckin' deathtraps," he snapped, pacing across the room. "I hate boats."

Bryan rolled his eyes and sat up. "You don't say."

"Oh, don't be cute. You said—you said we were going back to your new house," Mox grumbled and threw himself back down onto the bed, wrestling his jeans on. 

"This is a house."

"Bryan this is a—floaty fucking—it's a death trap is what it is. You can put a stove and couch in it, it's still gonna sink," he insisted, continuing to struggle. "Fuckin' tricked me, you goddamn scruffy fuckin' dickhead, I never woulda gone home wit' you if you'd said you bought a fuckin' houseboat." 

"I did say, but you might not have heard me. Little hard to speak when you're trying to lick my tonsils," Bryan muttered rolling his eyes. He stretched a little, pushing back the warm covers.

"Oh, bullshit, you didn't say anythin' about this," he muttered, beginning the process of looking for his socks. 

"You didn't see the dock last night?" he asked, dryly, and crawled forward so he could drape himself across Mox's back. "The water? The boats?"

"I was half asleep and following my dick, 'course I didn't notice." Mox tried to shrug him off, but Bryan just latched on tighter. "You tricked me."

"It's not a trick if I don't know there's a problem. I just wanted to bring you home with me," Bryan promised, scratching his nails lightly across Mox's chest. "C'mon, go back to sleep."

Mox sputtered and gave another violent shrug, but Bryan fought to hold on. "No, why the fuck would I sleep on a boat?!" he demanded, voice a little strangled. "You can't fuckin' swim if you're sleeping."

Bryan wanted to laugh, but he didn't really think that would actually help, not when it was likely to end with him being single. And, for some reason, he kinda loved the man. Just a little. Not that he'd actually said yet, not out loud. So he soothed a palm up Mox's chest, trying to be comforting.

"Calm down, I promise we're safe. Okay? Just let me get a little more sleep. It's early and we don't fly out until the afternoon." He pulled gently, urging Mox to fall back into bed with him. "I promise, if there were any problems, I'd never have brought you. We'll be okay for a few more hours."

"I don't care, it's a boat and I'll get seasick from this rickety fuck—"

"Jon, shut the fuck up for thirty seconds," Bryan grumbled, and pressed a hand to Mox's frantically running mouth. "Take a deep breath, calm down, and then take a moment to notice that we aren't rocking."

He made an indignant sound beneath Bryan's hand, but did as he was told. He was good at that, most of the time. 

"These things are extremely heavy, and have a low center of gravity that keeps them steady. You're not gonna get seasick, unless you work yourself into a panic," he promised, resting his chin on Mox's shoulder. "The most common problem these things have is the sewer line getting messed up, not sinking. Or having to hire a diver to go get something you dropped off the side."

Mox pushed his hand away, "But it can still—"

"A lot of things can happen," he reminded Mox. Bryan didn't think getting specific by reminding him that planes could crash was a good idea, not when they were going to fly out in a few more hours, so he kept it vague. "Just because it can doesn't mean it will. And if this then ever does sink, we'll have plenty of warning and we'll be able to get to the dock before our feet even get wet."

"And it could sink when we're asleep and then we're just s-o-fuckin'-l," Mox added, but he wasn't as tense as he had been. 

"For a man who keeps callin' me a boy scout, you really don't have a lot of faith in me," Bryan admonished, but softened it with a kiss to his shoulder. "I have an alarm. If anything changes, that thing'll go off. And I promise it's loud enough to wake us."

Mox made a skeptical little noise, but didn't immediately argue.

"I had them install flashing lights, too." It was strange how much negotiation was involved in getting Mox to relax. "It's just as safe as any other house."

"Stop making this all sound so fuckin' reasonable," Mox grumbled, and let Bryan wrestle him back down into bed. "I hate boats."

"You've made that very clear, babe, but it's a little hard to find a new house at four in the morning."

Mox scoffed and let himself be manhandled up the bed. "Don't sell your fuckin' boat, Bry."

He rolled his eyes and dropped his weight down onto Mox's chest, just to keep him from running off again. Definitely not because that was his favorite place to sleep, legs parted over Mox's hips. "Can't bring you home if you're just gonna panic yourself into a tizzy every time you're here."

"But—"

"But nothing, it's not worth it if you're gonna freak out." And it really wasn't. Being in love was stupid, like that.

Mox groaned and kicked one of his heels against the mattress. "I don't have to come here."

"Then what's the point of having this place?" Bryan asked, before he could think better of it. "I don't need it if I just want to be wherever you are."

Beneath him, Mox went still and quiet. 

He went still when he had realizations. Froze up as his entire world view changed and adjusted and righted itself in his head. Like a reset button, or something. It would have been funny if it wasn't so important.

But then he went lax beneath Bryan's weight. Heavy hands settled low on Bryan's back, dangerously low. "I guess I could get used to it," he murmured.

And that was—well, that was as good a declaration as Bryan had ever heard. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. If you're sure, then I guess I can be, too." He smoothed a palm down to give Bryan's ass a squeeze, "'Sides, I bet we could actually rock this thing if we tried hard enough."

He laughed, finally, relaxing into Mox's hands. "I think sinking wasn't the part you needed to worry about anyway."

Mox made an inquisitive sound, hands still kneading Bryan's ass.

"The neighbors definitely heard us last night."

Mox froze. For a few long seconds, he didn't even breathe. 

And then he shoved Bryan off and away, letting him bounce unceremoniously onto the mattress. "Nope, I was right, this is awful and you gotta sell it," he grumbled and resumed his search for his clothes. He muttered under his breath as he went, all manner of plans and ideas. A ranch, far from the city, with room for a couple more dogs and no neighbors for miles. A cabin deep in the woods, where they wouldn't be disturbed. 

A little place in the suburbs, with a patio and a yard and room for—with plenty of room.

And Bryan didn't think he'd ever been so happy. He laid back and watched Mox throw his little fit, laughing all the while. 

[valkyrie-night-103]

Hey! Since time travel fuckery was abandoned I shall use both my ask and my break at the charity shop to ask about the reverse parent trap!

Hope you're having a great day :) <3

You spoil me! Love you <3

Wrote this at 3am a while ago and then had to rework it to make it coherent, so apologies if this makes as much sense to you as it does to my irl wrestling-fan-in-law boyfriend who sent this lovely ask!

Only content warnings that come to mind are Mild injury and bullying, but this is a pretty mellow Single Parent AU

When Jon Moxley is picking up his adopted/foster son from school for the first time, he feels terribly out of place. He’s already getting some judgmental stares from some of the soccer moms, and this does not improve when Yuta meets him in the parking lot, sporting a fresh bruise on his cheekbone, near his right eye.

It comes out on the drive home that he got beat up by a group of kids at school. Though Mox would happily fight a child that messed with his kid, he doesn’t feel like going to jail. So, he takes this as an opportunity to enrol Yuta in martial arts classes to give them something to bond over in the form of combat sports.

He does not expect the instructor to be his high school ex-boyfriend, Bryan Danielson. But he rolls with it, because that’s what he does. Besides, Yuta is a natural, and more importantly he’s having fun.

Over the next few weeks, the bullying persists, and he knows something has to be done after Yuta comes home with a busted lip and the sour attitude of somebody who got caught by surprise. Mox just wants to talk, he swears. It is Friday and after hours, so he’ll have to wait.

He doesn’t have to wait long, as it’s only 10am on Monday when he gets the call that Yuta has been in a fight and he needs to come in to discuss it or some shit.

He’s the first parent to arrive, and Yuta gives him the rundown right away. The kid, Danny, he calls him, was talking shit about their gym teacher, and so Yuta punched him. He says so with a shrug.

That explains the message from Eddie about the younger generation being feral and cursing the mountains of paperwork that a fight creates. Of course it was his kid that decked someone in his best friend’s lesson. Eddie will probably never let him forget it, he can almost hear him chuckling about it now.

Ya really know how to pick ‘em, eh Mox?

He tells Yuta to wait outside, and takes a seat. He does not expect the door to open, and Bryan Danielson to walk in. It seems the universe has it out for him, as the main offender in the group of boys bullying his son is none other than Bryan’s own son, Daniel Garcia. It quickly becomes apparent that the universe is not done, as the coach for the high school amateur wrestling team the year he competed walks in and sits at the desk, looking amused.

(Contrary to popular belief, Mox definitely did *not* have any weird sexual tension with William Regal. Okay, fine, maybe, but Regal started it. Sort of.)

After some accusations are thrown in either direction, accompanied by eye rolls, obscene hand gestures and a varied selection of curse words, Regal gets sick of the bickering that was childish even when they were still teenagers, some 20 years ago. When he raises his voice, Mox and Bryan cease their nonsense, and they actually have a productive conversation.

It quickly becomes clear that Danny is pulling Yuta’s metaphorical pigtails because he wants to be friends but doesn’t know how to show it. Bryan swears it’s just a phase and he’ll grow out of it, but Mox isn’t so sure, at least at first.

The more they talk about the kids, the more Mox and Bryan realise how alike they are. And so, for the sake of their sanity- and their son’s school places- they scheme to get their kids to be friends.

They did not plan to fall in love in the process.

[dunkzillla]

Requesting that you please put moxbry back together because my heart hurts too much otherwise.

hehehehe ok I will. just for you bc I love you

mox/bryan, implies bcc polycule.

the other parts to this can be read here. one | two | three

Mox hates fighting with Bryan. He hates fighting with anyone, but particularly Bryan, because Bryan’s the one who makes him his hot cocoa just right, Bryan’s the one who knows the difference between just a simple tapping of his foot and a the thoughts in my mind are getting too much kind of tapping. Bryan just gets him. When they’re fighting though, everything feels out of sync. Bryan feels too far away and too close at the same time. It hurts.

These past few weeks have been hell, but Mox is hurt. He’s so hurt and he can’t find it in himself to forgive Bryan for hiding his fucking neck and head injury from him. It’s brought too much back, made him feel sick and hurt from deep down inside of him. They don’t keep things from each other, none of them do, Yoots doesn’t even go to the bathroom without informing them all of his whereabouts. They don’t hide anything, and especially not health information. Not health information that’s about Bryan’s old injuries, stopping him form working for god knows how long in the past and doing it again.

But Mox doesn’t know how much longer he can go on like this for. Tip toeing around Bryan and ignoring him whenever he’s tried to apologise. Mox is tired though, and so are Yuta and Regal, who take themselves off every once in a while to give Bryan and Mox space to talk, only to come back and find that they’ve done nothing of the sort.

Which is what’s happened now. Regal announced that he and Yuta were going to the store and then to the dry cleaners to pick up his suits. They definitely don’t need anything from the store, and Mox is pretty sure Regal picked his dry cleaning up yesterday, but, it leaves him and Bryan alone in the house.

Mox has been laying out on the bed watching old wrestling matches that Eddie sent him for an hour now, waiting for the inevitable knock at the door from Bryan. He’s wearing gym shorts and nothing else, because Bryan had brought new sheets and put them on after Mox told him that he wore clothes to bed because the feeling of Regal’s sheets against his skin made him want to crawl out of his body. Bryan had gone out and got cotton sheets instead of the satin that Regal had been previously using. It was heaven, getting to lay out in bed with his bare skin against the sheets rather than wearing sweats, socks and a hoodie to sleep in.

The knock comes just as the bell rings on the match he’s watching, but Bryan doesn’t wait for Mox to answer, just opens the door and steps inside. He’s holding a mug of what Mox guesses is his cocoa, given the mountain of whipped cream, the chocolate flake and sprinkles and marshmallows threatening to overspill.

“I come baring a sugary death? I even used the half and half instead of forcing my oat milk on you?” Bryan is holding the mug up with a sheepish smile on his face. He’s ridiculous.

Mox presses stop on the iPad and puts it on the bedside table. He doesn’t say anything, but Bryan takes it as his queue to come over. He’s careful with the mug, some of the cream is already started to melt and drip down the sides.

“Thanks.” Mox murmurs gently, before taking a sip. It’s not too hot — that’s why Bryan’s the best at making his cocoa, he always makes sure that the milk isn’t too hot, that it’s ready to drink as soon as it’s made rather than boiling the life out of it so that it’s like lava on his tongue (he loves Regal, and Yuta, but they can’t make hot cocoa for shit)

Bryan gently gets in the bed beside him, can tell he’s moving slowly so as not to jostle him, and he ends up pressed against his side, chin tucked over his shoulder and a warm hand smoothing over Mox’s belly. He knows what he’s doing, does Bryan, he knows Mox likes to be petted while he drinks his cocoa.

“I’m sorry, Mox,” Bryan whispers, lips pressing against his shoulder. His beard tickles his bare skin and sends a shiver down his spine. “Should have told you about my neck. Should have told you right away.”

Mox licks cream from his mouth. “Yeah, you should have.”

Bryan lets out another breath and kisses his shoulder again, his fingers smoothing gently over his belly and the hair there. “I should have. But I didn’t because I didn’t want to upset you.”

“But I’m upset now. Either way I was going to be upset, but I’d rather be upset that you’re hurt than be upset because you hid something really fucking important from me, Bry.”

“I know.” Bryan’s voice is full of shame.

“How come Yuta and Regal got to know? Would they not be upset like I was?”

“Yeah but —“

“There ain’t no buts, Bry. They would be upset and disappointed that you couldn’t do a couple of events with them. But they were able to fucking know ahead of time and be there for you while you went through it, I fucking wasn’t, for no reason. You know how shit that makes me feel? That you think I care more about working with you than your fucking health?”

“That’s not—“

“But that’s what you said, Bry. That you knew I’d be upset about not getting to do blood and guts with you. Yeah, fucking sucks, but it sucks more that you’re hurt. That you don’t think that’s more important to me.”

“I fucked up.”

Mox takes another sip of his cocoa, letting the warmth of it melt all the way down to his belly, where Bryan’s hand is still rubbing soft circles around his belly button.

“Yeah you did.”

“I won’t hide anything from you ever again.” Bryan murmurs against his shoulder, and he tangles their feet together. Mox let’s him, because Bryan’s been apologising since it happened, and he knows he’s sincere, Bryan doesn’t apologise unless he means it and the wounded look he’s had on his face for a week now tells him all he needs to know. Mox has had enough too.

“Better not, I’ll kick your ass.” He says around the rim of his mug, cream coating his lips as he takes a drink. Before he can lick it away, Bryan’s fingers are wrapping around his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. It’s been weeks since they properly kissed, and Mox can’t help but let himself be pulled into it, can’t help but melt into it like the cream is melting down the sides of the mug.

“Hey, that’s not, the cream, you bad vegan.” Mox says when Bryan pulls away, and Bryan’s beard has cream smeared in it.

“That’s vegan whipped cream,” A grin breaks out on Bryan’s face. Oh that asshole. “Nice isn’t it?”

“It’s alright.” Mox shrugs. He hadn’t been able to notice the difference, and that pisses him off because he’s always arguing with Bryan about vegan alternatives, they don’t taste the same!

“You couldn’t tell the difference!”

Mox scowls, swiping some cream onto his finger and shoving it into Bryan’s mouth. “Shut the fuck up.”

Bryan sucks the cream from his finger, sucks his finger entirely too long while giving him his comedic ‘sultry’ eyes before Mox can’t take it anymore and tugs his finger back.

“Freak.”

Bryan smirks and leans over to press a sloppy kiss against Mox’s cheek. “Love you.”

Mox shoves him gently, but not enough to push him away from him. He’s not had Bryan leeching onto him for weeks now and he needs it. He needs him close.

He takes another sip of his cocoa before pulling the flake out and sucking the cream off. God Bryan’s hot cocoas are the best.

“Yeah yeah, love you too.”

[doublearmbars]

fic: listen to the slow parts

Ship: bryan danielson/jon moxley

tags: riding, gentle sex, sensory deprivation

word count: 1550

summary: “You gonna fight me? You already lost once tonight. And I don’t like your chances in round two.” “No,” Bryan murmurs, eyes still retaining a little edge despite how tired he looks. “not tonight.” (set after the title match on the 9/21/2022 ep of dynamite)

I’ll upload to ao3 if people want but for now. tumblr exclusive.

It wasn’t planned or anything. Just part of the ritual of it. It was just Mox, knocking on Bryan’s hotel room, even though he had a keycard. Even though Bryan had given him the extra keycard. 

Bry gets…weird after matches. Not that he isn’t finding the freak knob and turning it ‘til it breaks on a regular day. After matches it’s either him immediately post-adrenaline drop, needy and domineering in equal measure, or he’s settled a bit, had something to eat probably, but he’s usually sore and prickly in a way that the kid can’t handle just yet. Mox handles him just fine.

His knock isn’t answered. He opens the door anyway, shuts and latches it behind him. Down the short hallway and around the corner is the king bed. And there’s Bryan; headphones in, hair still wet from the shower, he’s cross legged in his underwear, back against the headboard. 

Mox sits down on the edge of the bed. The disturbance must be enough because Bryan turns his head, pulls his headphones out and sets them on the side table before meeting Mox’s gaze. They talk without words plenty often, had a whole conversation in the ring earlier just from glances and touches, but for once, he can’t get a read on Bryan.

“You gonna fight me? You already lost once tonight. And I don’t like your chances in round two.” 

“No,” Bryan murmurs, eyes still retaining a little edge despite how tired he looks. “not tonight.”

“Good. Now where’re you hurting? Head alright?”

    Bryan nods, but doesn’t say anything, just extends his left leg and rubs at his hamstrings, where he’s usually sore anyways, and then taps his ankle, and shoots Mox a withering look. Dick. 

    “Oh don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the same damn thing.” 

    Bryan rolls his eyes, and huffs like he’s about to start an indignant rant about sportsmanship and how long a broken ankle takes to heal, but he doesn’t. He does roll over, laying on his stomach with his face pressed deep into the too-plush pillows. 

    “There you go. That’s what I thought.” 

    Mox kneels behind him, draws Bryan’s left calf back to rest in his lap and starts working on his hamstring. He’s no professional, but this is a familiar hurt to him, as he presses knuckles to the muscle and drags them up, then back towards the knee. Repeating the process, then using his thumbs, pressing and fanning out in arcs, which elicits a shaky inhale from Bryan. The muscle gives under his touch like clay. It’s strong, there's no doubt about that, but it yields, relaxes for him.

    Adjusting his grip, he pinches and rolls the tender flesh at the back of Bryan’s heel right where the Achilles tendon is. His gasp is muffled in the pillows, but Mox still quirks his head to one side.

“Good hurt, bad hurt?” 

    Bryan groans in what Mox knows from experience is the affirmative, so he keeps at it, drawing hands down his calf to the ankle again and again until Bryan taps twice on the headboard. 

    Mox slides the leg from his lap and moves his hands up to Bryan’s sides, turning him over onto his back. His face is flushed, and while he doesn’t look any less tired, he does look that pleasant kind of hazy that Mox knows from the inside. He cracks a smile. 

    “There you are, you feelin’ better? Forgive me yet?” 

Bryan is lucid enough to roll his eyes as he pulls himself up on his elbows and props his back against the headboard again.

“Maybe.” He admits, and he sounds hoarse, like he just woke up.

Mox kisses him, can’t help it, stuffs his tongue in Bryan’s mouth when he tries to inhale and cradles the back of his neck. They stay locked up with each other for a while, hot breath, faces close. It’s messy, swapping spit and biting, too much teeth and too little breaking to breathe. 

He pulls back, and it's hard to interpret the little noise Bryan makes as anything other than bereft. Mox tries to keep his smile from being smug, knows this is hard for Bry, giving up even the smallest bit of control, but it lights a fire in his belly to know he’s the one who gets this. 

“You watch. ‘Cause once I’m ready to take you, you’re gonna put on your little sleep mask,” he gestures to the bedside table, “and your headphones and you're gonna lemme take care of you.”

Mox strips out of his hoodie, shorts and underwear, sure to snatch the sachet of lube before he pushes his clothes unceremoniously off the bed. Tears it open with his teeth and starts in on himself with two fingers , kneeling, legs spread. 

He likes it, putting on a show for Bryan, watching him palm himself half-hard through the front of his briefs, looking at Mox with eyes that are soft, softer than he lets himself be most of the time. Gives him a crooked grin, leans his head back and groans quietly. He can feel Bryan looking at him like he hung the damn moon, and it plus the stretch of now three fingers makes his knees wobble. Mox is trying not to get too out of his brain with arousal, he really is, but there's that all-over-warm feeling he likes so much creeping in. He looks down for a minute, catches Bryan with one hand down the front of his underwear and the other at his mouth where he’s biting the knuckle, trying to muffle himself.

“Don't go quiet on me, sweet pea, now’s not the time to get self-conscious.” Bry usually gets to be the smug one, cooing almost condescendingly, projecting an unshakeable certainty, an entirely different beast from the deep growl Mox is giving him, which rumbles through the hollow of his chest like thundering wheels on asphalt. 

He taps on Bryan’s leg and motions for him to move further down the bed. 

“C’mon now, head on the pillows, headphones in, I’ll send you right to sleep.” 

Bryan moves a little slowly, his limbs a little shaky as he pulls his briefs off, then goes for his headphones. He’s quiet like this, a different quiet from normal, uncalculating, almost small. When he finally lays himself down and pulls his sleep mask on the room is almost unbearably silent.

Mox rises to his knees and straddles him, manhandles Bryan’s dick into position, thumbs over the head and fuck if Bry doesn’t look good enough to eat. He presses the tip against his ass and savors the gasp he gets. Loves that he can drag that out of carefully controlled, picture perfect Bryan Danielson. Get his chest all warm and pink not just from palm strikes. 

Mox sinks down onto him, slow, the way he wants it. When he’s finally seated, he pulls Bryan’s hands to his thighs, feeling the squeeze in response. It’s quiet. Then he rocks a little, and the fucking noise Bryan makes, punched out and sonorous, rising at the end with a lilt of desperation. It’s fucking delicious. The hips under Mox buck like they’re unsure, which is bullshit, because they both know Mox likes it more than a bit rough on occasion, but this, this is a time to be slow. Because Mox got to pick. 

He adjusts his angle a little bit and lowers himself again, and it twinges something in him that makes him growl and clench around Bryan which leads to a feedback loop. Mox clenches, Bry thrusts up into him, and Mox grinds back down, rinse and repeat until he’s steadily bouncing, riding Bryan, breathing a mess and cock red and curved hard against his belly. 

When he rests a hand over Bryan’s on his right thigh, he doesn’t think anything of it until Bry is lacing their fingers together all sweet. Mox rubs his thumb across the outside edge of his hand, and the grip tightens as Bryan shudders underneath him and he feels him cum inside and it's the perfect kind of gross for Mox, leaking out of him and onto the skin where they’re joined. That plus a few lazy winded strokes is all he needs before he’s shooting off over both their stomachs. 

    It takes a minute for him to come back to his body, chest heaving, awful empty feeling where Bryan’s slipped out of him. His brain’s not all the way back but he’s lucid enough to lean over and grab a wet wipe from the pack he knows Bryan keeps on the nightstand whenever they fuck, because he’s fussy and if even a tiny bit of cum dries in his pubes he will semi-jokingly hold it against Mox for weeks. He wipes what he can off both of them, knowing more’s just gonna leak out of him and kind of liking it. When he’s done, he tosses the wipe and pulls out Bryan’s headphones gently. 

    Then he lays down on top of Bryan, slotting his head at the corner of his neck and shoulder. He kisses gently at his throat, savors the mix of shower clean and sweat on his lips. There's a gentle hand brushing over his sore ribs, before it settles in for the night.