“You like the double shots, too?” Jon Moxley asks, his grin wide. Matt’s heart starts beating at an unreasonable speed. “That how you cheerleaders keep up all the energy?”

Matt giggles a little. He can’t help it. “Well, one of the ways. You should see the way we have to train for splits.”

He didn’t mean for it to be…well, suggestive. But, from the way Mox’s eyes widen, it was. “Oh. Well.” His laugh is a little close to a giggle too. “All yours. I can grab, like, a Coke or something.” He brushes the side of Matt’s hand. Just gentle. Just barely. “See you on the bus, Matty.”

Matt doesn’t move until Nick comes up behind him and pegs him in the back with his basketball. “Dude, your coach is about to kill you if you don’t get out there,” he hisses. “Buy your dumb coffee and let’s go.”

Matt nods, a little dazed. “Hey, um,” he says as he hands the cash to the cashier, “what – has Mox said anything about me?”

Nick groans. “Oh, god, you have a crush on Moxley?”

“Shh!” Matt says, looking around nervously. They’re the only two from the high school left in the store, but still. “Look, sort of. Shut up.”

Nick sighs, spinning the basketball on his fingertip. Like it’s easy. Jerk. “He hasn’t. But I’ll…” Nick pauses, takes a deep breath like whatever he’s about to say is going to hurt. “I’ll put out feelers.”

Mox is beginning to get suspicious. It’s not that he can’t forget things – God knows he does so even more now that he’s older – but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t pack this many Band-Aids in his bags. He’s almost positive. He knows it’s only at AEW shows, because he actually went looking for a Band-Aid in his bag after a rogue tack at a GCW show and couldn’t find any.

There’s more than just the box this time. Somebody’s shoved a bunch of Captain America Band-Aids into the pocket of his jeans along with the box neatly settled on top of his bag.

Mox looks around the room, trying to find somebody looking suspicious or guilty, somebody who’s watching his movements a little more clearly than usual. Nobody. He asks Yuta, thinking the sweet kid was trying to be helpful, except, when Mox thanks him, he looks bewildered.

~

He’d had a hint to who it had been before his match with Hangman, but, as he makes his way back to his bag in the locker room, there they are. There’s no way Hangman had put them there before the match -Mox had been in here until the last second – and after, well. Hangman couldn’t even walk.

This time, though, it’s a handful of Barbie Band-Aids scattered all across his bag. No neatly placed box. He figures whoever it was didn’t have time.

He shakes his head, feeling a little crazy. There’s every chance he’s made this up, that the Band-Aids are just left over from somebody’s kid toddling through the locker room while saying hi to their parent.

But not three times.

Not in his bag every time.

~

He reaches his breaking point in January, when it’s happened almost every day he’s been at an AEW taping since Blood and Guts. It’s gotten even stranger. He gets back from his match, a box of standard peach toned Band-Aids resting on top of his things, and then a handful of…they look like crayons? When he looks closer, he confirms it: a bunch of loose crayon Band-Aids shoved into one of his gym shirts. He sits up and looks around.

Nobody is staring at him, waiting for a reaction. Yuta’s on the phone. Claudio’s doing one armed pushups, the showoff. Mox watches for a moment, because he knows on good authority that Claudio likes it when people watch him. Jungle Boy is texting somebody furiously while Hook looks asleep next to him. The Best Friend clan is huddled around Danhausen, muttering like nobody else is in the room with them.

He’s got to get to the bottom of this before it drives him to break out the nonalcoholic beer.

~

“Okay, seriously, what the fuck.” Mox stands up and walks into the meeting room. After Rampage, most of the talent have usually left, but the leadership group (that’s who he is now with the new contract, he’s leadership, it still baffles him) been requested to check in with Tony before everybody leaves. The time difference here on the West Coast was fucking with him just as badly as the Band-Aid weirdo so he’s not even tired. He should be. “Who the fuck keeps leaving the Band-Aids all over my shit?” He holds up the box, turns around the locker room, waving it in everybody’s faces. He would probably benefit from using one of them to staunch the bleeding on his forehead, but it adds a level of drama he’s a bit fond of. “Spill. Out with it.”

To his surprise, Nick Jackson looks completely bored. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s not you?” Mox asks, shaking the box to make a fun little noise. Nick, to his credit, just blinks slowly.

“What’s not me?”

“The Band-Aids!” Mox practically yells. “Somebody in here has been leaving Band-Aids in all my stuff.”

He looks around the room for some sort of hint, somebody with a shitty poker face. Tony, exasperated and so done. Kenny Omega, furiously typing on his phone who looks up only to shake his head and go back to the conversation. Amanda and Megha, standing impatiently as they glare at Mox. Finally, he hits the mark: Matt Jackson’s eyes widen.

“Oh, your dumb little Bambi eyes gave you away, you little shit,” Mox says, staring down Matt.

Matt does not have an ounce of Nick’s stoicism. “I – not those!”

Mox blinks. “What?”

“Can you two do this later?” Tony asks. “Also, Jesus, Mox, clean up your forehead. What’d you do, blade with a steak knife?”

Mox is fuming through the meeting, something about increasing the reach of the community engagement program. He tries to pay attention to Amanda, because he really likes her, but knowing that the most annoying Jackson is the one who’s been leaving Band-Aids all over his bags like a goddamn taunt is at the front of his mind the whole time. He ends up volunteering to be the Ohio lead for the program, just to try and apologize for being a little insane right now.

“Alright, that’ll be it,” Tony says, clapping his hands. His eyes go right to Mox. “Please. Don’t kill an EVP. I’ve had enough bad PR for a lifetime.”

“No promises,” Mox grumbles, but he shrugs at Tony. Because he’s not actually planning on killing Matt. Not planning to.

“I can explain,” Matt says, when Mox grabs his arm and hauls him out of his chair

Nick and Kenny look almost bored as they follow Mox and the ragdoll formerly known as Matt Jackson down the hallway. “Where’s your room?” Mox asks Matt.

“End of the hallway. Look, you can let go of me now, if you want. I’m not going to run off.”

Mox stares at Matt’s face. “If I want?”

“If you want.”

Mox considers it. “Nope.”

They reach the end of the hallway, and Matt opens the door. Unlocked. Mox will have to remember that.

He turns to the other three of the doucheketeers. “Alright, gentlemen, we’ll be out in a second.”

Nick and Kenny are standing there, mouths open as if to speak, but Mox slams the door in their faces.

“So,” Mox says, getting in Matt’s face. “The Band-Aids.” Matt looks up at Mox, turning on the infuriatingly effective baby cow eyes. They won’t work this time. “You think it’s funny? You ribbing me or something? This WWE in 2004 and you’re trying to fuck with me?”

Matt frowns, grabbing the Band-Aids from Mox’s hand like he’s meant to touch Mox. “These ones aren’t mine!”

“What,” Mox rocks back, just a little, “wanna explain that?”

Matt, to Mox’s shock, shakes the box in his face. “These are not the Band-Aids I’ve been giving you. I’ve been tossing random, like, superhero and stuff Band-Aids in your bags. I did not put these in.” He looks at them, wrinkling his nose. “The color looks weird on me.”

“I hate that you think of how a Band-Aid looks on you,” Mox grumbles. “Okay, if you left the other ones – they suck, by the way, you’d think a self-obsessed millionaire like you would spend the big bucks on decent medical supplies – then who the fuck left this?” He snatches the Band-Aids back from Matt, wiggles it in Matt’s face like Matt had done to him.

Matt folds his arms across his chest. Mox is definitely not affected by the way it makes Matt’s biceps flex and…Nope. He’s not looking. “Self-obsessed? Nice, Mr. Bleeds Every Week for the Vibes.”

“It’s – it’s not for the vibes – and this one – fuck you!”

“Eff you!”

“Fuckin’ princess can’t even swear,” Mox huffs. “Fine. Whatever. You are helping me figure out who the fuck is leaving the other set of bandaids in my bag.”

Matt fixes his face into some sort of indignant pout. “Why would I help you?”

Mox crowds into Matt’s space, using the height advantage to pin him against the wall. He tries not think about what else they could get up to like this. Matt looks good from this angle. “Because, if you don’t, I’ll kick your ass.”

Matt mutters something under his breath, but Mox doesn’t catch it.

Part 2: Matt

Matt has a boner and has to hide it, because Kenny and Nick are fawning over him like Mox actually did something to hurt him.

“Are you sure we don’t need to talk to Tony?” Kenny asks, eyes searching Matt’s face.

“It’s fine,” Matt says, waving them off. “Look, I did leave some Band-Aids in his bag. I thought he’d need them, you know? He took it wrong. I explained the situation, and we’re good.” His leg’s doing the annoying twitching thing, and Kenny notices.

“He threaten you or something?” Kenny asks.

Matt shakes his head. “No, oh my god. It’s fine.” Matt exhales and goes over everything, leaving out the way his pants aren’t exactly comfortable right now.

“What compelled you to mess with Moxley?” Kenny asks. “Of all fucking people?”

“I wasn’t fucking with him!” Matt says, for what feels like the eightieth time that day. “I just – I liked the fun Band-Aids, and he’s always bleeding all over the place. It’s a gift and a workplace safety initiative.”

“Workplace safety ini – oh, god, I’m breaking up the tag team.” Nick leans against the wall, head in his hands.

“Are not,” Matt snaps back.

Kenny groans. “Okay, fine. Fuck up your life by interacting with Moxley. I literally could not care less at this point, as long as you don’t get yourself killed before the end of this seven game series.”

~

Matt considers himself a decent spy, but it takes until the day before game seven to catch the culprit. He’s been pulling out all the stops – hiding in piles of other people’s stuff, sneaking into the locker room before and after the show starts, even pretending to be on his phone while actually filming Moxley’s bag. It works until it doesn’t, because he technically is supposed to be in a different locker room. He hadn’t realized that his presence would be that, well, noticed. It’s like he can hardly walk into the locker room without one of the other wrestlers waving and calling attention to him.

It happens again as he tries to sneak into the locker room, and Mox scares him half to death by popping out from behind a shower curtain. He’s still wet, and it’s distracting.

“Jesus, warn a guy,” Matt mutters.

“Figured it out yet?” Moxley asks. He shakes his arms out, cold water spraying and hitting Matt in the face. He fidgets trying not to look at, well, the everything about Mox. Then he drops the towel and begins getting dressed in his gear, which Matt thinks is a direct attack. He hopes it is, at least.

“No,” Matt replies, intentionally looking away as Mox puts on his pants, “and you could help, you know.”

“Nah,” Mox says, doing a little hop to adjust the fit of the gear. It’s weirdly endearing. “This is your penance for being an ass.”

“I was being helpful,” Matt snaps.

Mox laughs as he gets his boots on. “Sure you were, baby.”

Matt does not blush about it.

~

He should be talking strategy with Kenny and Matt, but there are more pressing issues. Namely, finding the other Band-Aid person so Moxley will be, like, happy with him. Or something. He’s not willing to examine his motivations further.

Matt’s hidden in the same little hidden shower Mox had been in when it happens. His jaw drops. Hangman, still covered in sweat from his match, slides into the locker room and neatly settles the box of plain Band-Aids on top of Mox’s bags. He glances around and makes his way toward the door. Matt takes a second to let it sink in: there was more than one moment that he worried, after that doozy of a concussion, he’d never get to see the man with his post-match glow ever again. It looks good on him. It sparks a funny little ache in Matt’s chest.

Shaking himself out of it, because he has a job to do, Matt wonders if his strategy was too inelegant, just throwing the Band-Aids all over the bag, as he steps out of the shadows and clears his throat.

Hangman freezes in place like a deer in the headlights.

“So it’s you,” Matt says, and he feels a little like a supervillain. “Stole my idea.”

“I did not steal an idea,” Hangman argues, finally getting his normal stance back. “He’s always covered in blood. Sometimes I even make him bleed the hard way. The Band-Aids are an apology.”

Matt raises an eyebrow. “An apology.”

“Yeah,” Hangman says. “I used to get him beers, back in the day, but we, uh. Neither of us do that anymore. So Band-Aids.”

“You didn’t think to, I don’t know, tell him? Or give them to him face to face?”

Hangman raises an eyebrow, a little bit of a smirk hinting at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, like you did?”

Amanda must have texted Hangman about it while he was off. Traitor. “Shut up.” Matt ducks his head, glad he kept his hair down.

“You have no leg to stand on,” Hangman says, teasing. “I mean, I at least gave him the whole box. You, what, tossed a couple in his bag? Were you trying to be annoying, or is that just your default?”

“Oh, eff off,” Matt laughs. “Look, he’s pissed about it, but if you just, like, talk to him, I’m sure he’ll be normal about the whole situation.”

Hangman raises an eyebrow. “Jon Moxley. Normal about something.”

“Fair point,” Matt concedes. “He’ll be not trying to murder you about it.”

“That sounds more like him.” Hangman – Adam’s – smile is just as bright as it always used to be, and it strikes Matt that this is the first real conversation they’ve had in a long time.

He goes quiet and Adam settles into that expression of careful neutrality Matt’s always been able to read. He’s nervous.

“You okay?” Matt asks. “I – I was just joking about it. He probably won’t be that mad.”

“It’s not that,” Adam says. “I just – this is the first time we’ve been able to talk to each other without punching the other out in years.”

“I was just thinking that, too,” Matt says. His leg starts going, and Adam’s eyes dart to it. Sometimes he forgets just how much of him Adam really knows.

Adam’s smile is soft and gentle. “I’ve missed you. It’s good to talk to you.”

It feels almost too good to be true. “I’ve missed you, too.” Matt’s too scared to step closer, to risk himself again, so he just offers Adam a smile. “Mox, uh. Moxley probably won’t be able to come back here to get the bag, with the way you clocked him.”

Adam winces. “Yeah. That was,” he pauses, eyes searching the room like it’ll give him the words, “a lot.”

Matt shrugs. “It’s the business. You can let him know when he comes back.”

~

Lucky for Matt, who has been overly obsessed about it for too long, they’re all in the same place again January 18th, when Matt’s backstage. He just doesn’t know it until he sees Hangman over the screen as he watches backstage.

“He’s here?” he asks Nick, hand over his mic.

“Yeah, looks like it,” Nick mutters. Matt watches him choose his words carefully, the way Nick’s had to do ever since Adam left the Elite. “You gonna go talk to him?”

There his leg goes again. “Maybe.”

“Go,” Nick says, offering a soft smile.

“But I’m needed –”

“I got it,” Nick says, pushing at Matt’s shoulder. “I know how much it – how much he – means to you.”

Matt presses a quick kiss to the top of Nick’s head, because he really doesn’t know what he did to deserve him as a brother, and dashes across the arena. It takes him so long Adam’s no longer in the little alcove where he filmed his promo. He panics for a second, until he gets his head out of his ass and realizes the locker room is the most likely place to find Adam. Plus, Moxley’s here to keep an eye on the competition, even though he’s not cleared, so there’s every chance…

Matt laughs in relief when he opens the door to find Adam leaning over Moxley’s little backpack, the one he hauls around on days he doesn’t have a match.

Adam jumps about a foot when he turns around. “I wasn’t – oh.” His face melts into a smile. “Matt. Hi.”

“Caught in the act again,” Matt says, grinning. He leans up against the door frame. “Shameless.”

“I haven’t told him it’s me yet, and he’d be confused if I just all of a sudden stopped.” Adam tucks his hair behind his ear. It looks even better than usual. Matt wants to get his finger twisted around some of those curls. “It’s a bit. You have to keep up with the bit.”

Matt raises an eyebrow. “He’s not cut open, though. He doesn’t need a Band-Aid.”

“He’s Moxley. He’ll crash into a wall and bust an artery or something.” Adam settles the box a little more on the bag. “But I’d rather him not catch us, so.”

“Right,” Matt follows him out of the door. And it hits him, hard: this is the moment, isn’t it. He pauses a step or two past the door to the locker room. “Um.” Adam turns to him, stops when he sees Matt isn’t moving. “You mentioned. In your promo, a few minutes ago. Fences.”

Adam nods. “Fences.”

Matt doesn’t want to hope. “And, um. Mending them?” He hopes Adam can’t hear how loudly his heart is beating.

“Yeah,” Adam says. He takes a step closer to Matt.

“I want to.”

Adam finally breaks that mask and smiles, those eyes softening. “Oh, thank god.” He rushes in and pulls Matt in for a crushing hug, one Matt hadn’t enough known he’d been missing all this time. He buries his face in Adam’s chest, trying not to think of how this feels a little like home. Adam rests his chin, or maybe his cheek, Matt can’t tell, on top of Matt’s head. They stay there for a minute, and Matt buries his face into Adam’s chest. Nothing else matters.

“This looks cozy.”

Matt and Adam pull apart to see Jon Moxley, looking mildly amused. “So, I found some more bandaids in my bag,” he shakes them in his hand, backpack slung over his shoulder, “and you two are the only ones in the hallway, so.” He looks them up and down. “Both culprits found.”

Matt fights a smile while Adam starts to go a little red.

“I – I was gonna tell you.”

Mox breaks out in a grin. “Of course it was you two in the end.”

“Why of course us?” Adam asks.

Mox licks his lips, looking the two of them up and down. “’Cause you two have been a little obsessed with me since I walked into the company.”

“I am not obsessed with you,” Matt argues, almost on instinct.

Mox laughs. “Sure you aren’t. What about you, Cowboy? You gonna deny it, too?”

“I wouldn’t say obsessed,” Adam says, with more poise than Matt would have expected from him in this situation, “I’d say intrigued.”

Mox’s grin goes a little less kind, a little more knowing. “Intrigued, huh?” He makes his way backward down the hallway, eyes locked on Matt and Adam. “If you ever want to satisfy that intrigue, let me know if you two want to, uh, not wrestle sometime. Maybe altogether.” He spins on his heel and swaggers off, and Matt is far, FAR too hot right now.

“You think he knows we used to…?” Adam trails off, and Matt is happy to see that he’s just as bright red as Matt’s pretty sure he is.

“Oh, you think?” Matt says. He feels hot all over, like his skin’s too small for his body. “You’re really using that college degree brain.”

“Shut up,” Adam says, but it’s not mean, and he’s still smiling. So Matt thinks they’re still good.

~

Part 3: Adam (this is where the E rating comes into effect, folks)

Adam knows it’s a dumb fucking idea. He’s going to do it anyway.

He ducks into the locker room after his match with Moxley, covered in sweat and victory, and grabs the last box of Band-Aids out of the front pocket of his duffle. He’s making his way over to Moxley’s bag when he hears it:

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Adam sighs and turns around to see Mox there, blood mostly mopped off of his face. Adam feels a little proud at the stitches on Moxley’s forehead. Proof of his second victory over the man. “Oh. Hi, Moxley.”

“Get the fuck away from my stuff,” Mox laughs. “Really? Again?”

“I cut you open again, so I figured…” He trails off. Mox really does move the same way out of the ring as he does in it.

Mox walks toward him, a hint of a smile on his lips. “God, you really don’t learn, do you.”

“I learn,” Adam says, standing to his full height. “I just have no impulse control when it comes to – ” He cuts himself off, because he’s not exactly sure what was going to come next. To Mox? To men with pretty eyes who like it when they beat each other up? To people who he can’t decide if he wants to fight or fuck?

“To what?” Mox asks, sidling up to him. He’s got his hands in his front pockets, looks way too comfortable.

Adam refuses to break eye contact, but the words stick in his throat.

“Come on, Cowboy,” Mox says, voice a low growl, “You can say it.”

Adam’s eyes flick between Mox’s lips and eyes. He speaks before he can let himself think better of it. “Matt’ll be jealous if we start without him.”

Mox lets out this laugh that Adam’s never heard from him, something surprised and glorious. “Oh, I get it. You made yourself a package deal.”

“Pretty sure that was you.” Adam licks his lips. He can’t keep his eyes from Mox’s eyes and lips. “What hotel you at?”

“The one Tony paid for,” Mox says. He’s all the way in Adam’s space, now, and, if Adam takes a deep breath, their chests will touch. “Room 485.” He darts forward, gives Adam a sweet, chaste kiss with none of the tension behind the moment. It feels like a challenge. “Soon as the Rampage taping is done. I’ll be waiting.” He pulls back and rubs at his own lip with his thumb, eyes on Adam’s mouth. “You bring Matt if you’re willing to share.” He walks away without another word or a look behind.

Adam lets out this weird little noise as he feels like the world is rocking around him. With slightly shaking fingers, he pulls out his phone, and gives himself a second to let the anticipation wash over him. Meet me at the EVP locker room?, he texts, crossing his fingers that his number wasn’t deleted.

The answer comes almost immediately. b there in 5

Adam hustles to the EVP room, new anxious energy enveloping him. He counts to a hundred in his head, but only makes it to 75 before he sees Matt half-running down the hallway, already in gear. They go on last, so Adam’s sure Matt has more important things to be doing right now. But he needs to make sure he gets a chance to, in person, talk to Matt. Before whatever happens tonight. Matt lights up when he sees Adam, but he still doesn’t quite smile. When he’s walking, it’s not as clear that he’s brimming with anxiety. But he’s walking a little too quickly, limbs moving a little too frenetically, for this to be under control.

“Go ahead in,” Matt says, a little breathless. “It’s always unlocked.”

Adam smiles as he pushes the door open. “Kenny still forgetting his keys?”

“Always,” Matt says, sounding exasperated. “And then, like, Nick and I’ll be in the trainer’s or getting dinner and he’ll run in like a maniac demanding the keys! It’s just a habit at this point.” He wiggles a little, bouncing on his toes, as he leans against some sort of counter. “So. What’s the emergency? Nick and I were stretching.”

“Right, course. Uh.” Adam brushes his hair out of his face. “Mox wants us to meet him in his hotel room. After Rampage.”

Matt raises an eyebrow. “Really.”

Adam nods. “The direct quote was, ‘I’ll be waiting. You bring Matt if you’re willing to share.”

Matt’s eyes widen like a goddamn anime character, and a flattering blush spreads across his cheeks. “Sh-share?”

Adam nods. “So, um. I didn’t want to commit or anything until I knew if we – if…” He trails off, trying to figure out how to phrase it. “If you wanted to be each other’s again.”

Matt’s eyes go even more Bambi at that, wide and earnest and reminiscent of the man Adam first met years ago, when Adam was teaching and Matt was still convincing himself he had what it takes to change the world. “You want me to be yours?”

“I want – ” He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Matt’s launched himself at Adam, kissing him like their lives depend on it. It feels like breathing, like a sip of cold water on the days when they’re short staffed and Adam’s working twelve hours to keep the plants in shape. It feels even better than winning the match against Moxley, barely an hour ago.

Adam tries to hold Matt as preciously as he holds the moment, flooding with nostalgia for a time he never thought he’d get back. He pulls back, pressing his lips to Matt’s cheeks, his forehead, all across his face, until Matt’s letting out this half giggle and looking up at him. Adam would fight the world for those eyes. “I want you to be mine,” Adam finally gets a chance to say. “Again. Right, this time.”

“Okay,” Matt says. “Yeah, I – yours. And you’ll be mine?”

Adam nods, raising a shaky hand to brush Matt’s hair off of his shoulders. “Yes.”

“And we can share, huh?” Matt asks. His smile grows a little devious, a little too knowing for the way he was beaming up at Adam a few seconds before. “Jeez, you never change, do you.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “We – we both had fun those few months with Cole, and you know it. Mox’ll be, uh. I think he’ll be a little different.”

“Oh, yeah,” Matt says, and he almost looks too excited. “Seen his dick. Dude’s packing. We’re in for a hell of a night.”

Adam clears his throat. “I’m done with the evening, but you, uh. You got a match soon.” He peeks down – the gear doesn’t allow much for the imagination to come up with. Matt’s clearly hard. Working on a hunch that Matt hasn’t changed as much as he likes to pretend he has, Adam leans down to his ear. “Better get that under control before thousands of people see you’re desperate for it on live television.”

And there it is. Matt lets out that little whine of his, reaches up to grip Adam by the biceps and pulls him in for the kind of kiss you couldn’t show on cable.

“You can’t – you can’t just say that kind of thing to me,” Matt laughs, sounding near hysterical. “God, you’re evil.”

Adam shrugs. “And you’re mine. So what does that say about you?”

Matt rolls his eyes and hauls Adam in for another kiss, then pushes him off. “I’ll meet you in the hotel after my match.” He squeezes Adam’s hand. “Don’t you dare leave without me.”

Adam beams at him as he walks away. “Wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’.”

~

Matt barrels backstage with the kind of grin that could blind a person, belt in the air and hair plastered to the back of his neck.

Adam steps into the hallway, hoping this isn’t a mistake. “That was a great first title defense,” he says. He feels a little too tense, like the three of them weren’t once his reason for waking up in the morning. “Fantastic match.”

Kenny exchanges a look with Matt, then with Nick. “Thanks, man.” His tone is careful. Hesitant. “Yours was amazing. Never seen you pull off two Buckshots in a row like that. Picture perfect.”

“Coming from the Best Bout Machine, that’s a big compliment.” Adam grins, but it feels a little strange. “Fuck, this is weird.”

“Okay, thank you!” Nick says, throwing his arms in the air. The end of the belt clips him in the arm, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “If you three would just be, I don’t know, adults about it and apologize, we’d be way better off. So you. All of you. Be nice.”

Adam startles. “You didn’t tell them?”

“I tried to,” Matt says, stepping next to Adam. “But it was all ‘no, we can’t break out the hammers again, Matt.’ I wasn’t trying to bring up hammers.” He points to Adam. “We – again.”

“Romantic,” Adam snickers.

“Shut up, this is hard,” Matt snaps.

Adam snickers again.

Kenny laughs. “Oh, fuck, they’re back together.” It’s not mean or vitriolic. It reminds – well, it reminds Adam of before AEW, before the civil war. It reminds him of when they were the Elite, and they all made sense to each other. “Neither of you are allowed to fuck it up this time. We’ve got too much bad PR in the past year.”

Matt rolls his eyes. “I don’t recall.”

Nick sighs. “Well, love this, love you guys, but I’m going to go shower for, like, fifteen years, and then I’m passing out in the room.” He raises an eyebrow at Matt. “I’m assuming I won’t see you tonight.”

“Oh, definitely not,” Matt says. “Yeah, I plan on being busy –”

“I forgot about the oversharing part,” Nick says with a wince, while Adam and Kenny laugh. “Please don’t finish your sentence.”

“Well, I was just –”

Nick shoves his fingers in his ears and starts yelling, “La-la-la,” as he half sprints down the hallway toward the EVP locker room.

“Can you make sure he doesn’t gamble his life away out of concern for his dearest big brother?” Matt asks Kenny. “I’ll be otherwise occupied this evening.”

Kenny rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Take care of each other.” He gives Adam a pointed look. “I shouldn’t have to tell you not to hurt him again.”

Adam opens his mouth to answer, but Matt beats him to it. “We all hurt each other,” he says. “And we’ll all do better this time.”

Kenny nods. “Fair.” He claps Adam on the shoulder, gentle, kind. “We missed you.”

Adam’s a little light headed as he packs his things, but Matt is waiting for him by the door eagerly. He doesn’t want to keep him waiting. He chances a glance around the locker room. It’s empty.

“Come here,” Adam says, reaching out for Matt. He scoops him into another kiss, gentle this time. Matt sighs into it, arms settling on Adam’s hips. “Missed you,” he says into Matt’s mouth.

Matt hums, looking up at him. “Missed you, too.”

The anticipation of what comes next gone for a moment, Adam basks in the familiarity, the safety of holding Matt. It feels like home.

“Um, so, tonight,” Matt says. He licks his lips. Moment broken, but Adam’s dealt with much worse. “What do you think his whole deal is?” Matt asks, speaking a mile a minute into Adam’s shoulder as they make their way into the hallway. To keep it at a whisper, he’s pressed against the side of Adam’s body. He’s even more tactile, more desperate for physical contact than Adam remembers. It’s distracting in the best way. “Mox, I mean. You think he – think he’ll want to fuck me?” Adam turns to Matt, and his eyes are wide with glee.

“Okay, hold your horses,” Adam says, pressing a kiss to Matt’s temple. “Let’s just – let’s get to the hotel and figure things out there, okay?” Adam leans down to Matt’s ear. “The whole company can’t hear you this desperate. Think of what they’d say.”

A whole body shiver from Matt is Adam’s reward. “I really hate that I love it when you do that,” Matt says, but he’s quiet and red until they make it to Adam’s rental car.

“So, what – ”

Matt grabs him by the collar and hauls him in over the center console between the seats to shove his tongue in Adam’s mouth. Adam takes a split second to adjust, then gives just as good as Matt, trying to get one of those desperate little noises Matt’s always been so good at making.

He pulls away, breathless, after probably longer than they should have risked. “Okay,” Adam breathes. “Okay, we – we should get back to the hotel.” He can’t fight off his smile, can’t avoid looking at Matt’s smiling lips. “Don’t want to get caught.”

“Okay, well, if you do it too much, I’ll get used to it,” Matt says, buckling his seatbelt.

Adam glances down to Matt’s crotch. “Sure you will.”

~

They have to leave space between the two of them as they make their way to the hotel, to the elevator, to Adam’s room, and the anticipation is almost impossible to manage.

Matt’s on him the second the door is closed, though, shoving him up against the wall and hands going everywhere. It stuns Adam, gets his knees week, and Matt takes the moment to slide a leg between Adam’s and press up.

“Wanna touch you,” Matt murmurs against Adam’s throat, sucking hard. It’ll leave a mark, Adam realizes with a thrill. “Want you now.”

“What would Mox say if you couldn’t wait for him?” Adam asks, catching Matt’s wandering hands in his.

Matt sighs, a shiver running down his spine and all through his body. “Oh, you are the worst.”

Adam stretches, trying to get his own dick under control. “In the way you like, though.”

Matt texts Mox, who shoots back, stop by whenever, like it wasn’t his idea.

“He doesn’t even seem excited about it,” Matt pouts. He looks up. “Think he changed his mind?”

“Absolutely not,” Adam says, pulling his hair back in a little ponytail for function. “He’s just weird.”

Matt considers it. “Yeah.”

They take their own trips down the hallway to Mox’s room, and Adam makes Matt go first. The anticipation of waiting the five minutes to get down to the fourth floor, to meet up with Mox and Matt, damned near kills him.

He walks too quickly down the hall, too quickly into the elevator, too quickly to Mox’s room. He knocks, and time slows as he waits for the door to open. It doesn’t.

With a shaky hand, he goes for the handle. He pushes it open slowly to see Mox kissing Matt so gently, so meticulously, it makes Adam’s head spin.

“Started without me?” he laughs. He makes sure the door is closed, locked, behind him. He swallows hard. “God, that’s a pretty sight.”

Matt’s eyes are already a little dazed when he turns to Adam, but not so much they don’t light up when he sees him. “Hi!”

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, coming to kiss Matt’s cheek. He offers an awkward wave to Mox. “Uh. Hi.”

“Hey,” Mox says. “Took you long enough.”

“I waited five minutes,” Adam says, playing with a strand of Matt’s hair that’s come loose from his hair tie. “Figured that’d keep anybody from getting suspicious.”

Mox’s laugh is low, quiet, full of potential. “Let’s hope the rooms near us are empty.” He drops his head to Matt’s ear, and Adam can hardly hear it when he mutters, “Don’t want people hearing it when you get loud.”

Matt’s eyes flutter shut and he lets out one of Adam’s favorite sounds.

“Yeah, he likes that,” Adam says with a little chuckle.

“What else do you like, baby?” Mox asks, tugging at Matt’s earlobe with his teeth.

“Somebody’s gotta fuck me,” Matt says, head thrown back. “Otherwise I might die. I, uh.” He shakes his head. “Okay, if you keep doing that thing with your tongue, I won’t be able to answer any questions.” Mox takes a step back, and Matt straight up pouts. “I didn’t mean go that far away, but fine.” He licks his lips. “I, uh. I want to see you guys kiss.” He swallows. “And, like. Don’t hold back.” He sits himself on the bed, kicks off his shoes, and crosses his legs. “Alright, then.”

Adam turns to Mox, heart racing. “I’ve never been able to say no to him before.” He swallows. “Don’t want to.”

Mox grabs Adam by the arm and hauls him in. Adam’s not willing to cede control of the kiss, though. He wants to put on a good show for Matt, give him everything he wants and more. He leans in, biting at Mox’s lip before he dives into the kiss. Mox kisses like he wrestles: rough, ruthless, dedicated. Adam gets a little lightheaded when he threads his hands through Adam’s hair and tugs a little, undoing the ponytail. Adam grabs at the front of his shirt, holding him to his chest. He wants Mox to remember he’s not the only world champion in the room.

“This is good,” he hears Matt say. “This – this is really good.”

Adam laughs against Mox’s mouth and presses Mox against the wall, cracking his head against a rather ugly painting. “Sorry,” he murmurs against Mox’s neck.

“’M good.” Mox grabs at Adam’s shirt, yanking it out of his jeans. “Take off your shirt.”

“You take off yours.”

“Take them both off,” Matt says from the bed. Adam looks over to see him a little eager, a little antsy. “Please?”

Mox lights up as Adam pulls his shirt off. “Oh, he says please?”

“Wait until you get him underneath you,” Adam says, biting at Mox’s neck after he gets the shirt off. “He asks so nicely. He’ll beg real pretty, too, if you’re patient.” Adam meets Matt’s eyes as he sucks a bruise into Mox’s collarbone. Matt’s squirming from where he sits on the bed, tugging on his hair and biting his lip. “Oh, Mox, look at him now.”

Mox turns his head, grins. “Matt, you want in on it?”

Matt nods frantically. “Yes, oh my god. Yes.” He reaches out and Adam has to laugh – Matt still does the little grabby hands when he’s particularly excited.

Adam turns to Mox, and it feels like they’re in the ring. This time the prize is Matt Jackson, and they can both win. Adam dives at Matt first, though, because Matt’s his and all, and flattens him to the bed. He presses his mouth to Matt’s with single-minded determination, sliding his hands up Matt’s shirt to tweak at his nipples. He grins as he swallows Matt’s whine. And then Matt yelps.

Adam pulls back to see Moxley, at the head of the bed, gently gathering Matt’s wrists in his hands. He looks at Matt. “You good?”

“Of course I’m good! Why the eff did you stop?” Matt arches up to Adam, eyes fluttering closed when he pushes against Mox’s grip and finds immediate resistance. “Oh my god,” he mumbles.

“Worked on a hunch,” Mox says. “Good, Matt?”

“Yes, good, so good.”

Adam slowly pushes Matt’s shirt up, sliding it into Mox’s hands so he can pull it off of Matt’s body while keeping his grip on Matt’s wrists. Adam gives him a second to stare, to take in the man in front of him. “God, you look good,” he mutters, “you – fuck.”

Matt’s eyes are closed when he replies, “You look good too. So good.”

“Your eyes aren’t even open,” Adam laughs against the skin of Matt’s chest. He drags kisses around the skin until he reaches Matt’s nipple, flicking his tongue over it.

“I – oh – you always look good,” Matt says. “So, so good right now. You,” he stops talking, trading words for the most intoxicating little sigh that makes Adam desperate for more of it. He turns to the other nipple, giving it the same attention.

“You both look fucking great right now,” Mox says. His voice is deeper than Adam’s ever heard it. “Like – fuck.” Adam raises his head in time to see Mox reach down and grab at his cock through his sweatpants. Adam’s mouth starts watering.

“Yeah?” Adam asks. He locks eye with Moxley as he slides down Matt’s body, getting his fingers into the waistband of Matt’s sweats and slowly pulling them down. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“Oh, yes,” Matt groans as Adam wraps his mouth around his cock. He’s not working with an end goal right now, focusing on keeping his eyes locked on Moxley’s and getting him to lose his composure. He’s too controlled right now, too steady, and Adam’s got to see what’s behind that wall. He wants to tear it down with his teeth.

“Keep goin’,” Mox growls. “Look so good like this, Adam. So good.”

The use of his name sends a tingle down to his spine that gets Adam’s cock harder than he’d thought possible, and he has to pause to breathe and adjust his pants.

Matt immediately goes to sit up, and gets stopped by Mox’s hand on his wrists. “I – oh, Adam, why’d you stop?”

“Mox is – he’s,” but Adam finds himself struggling to find the right words, settling instead for turning for more room, pushing his sweats out of the way and wrapping a hand around his own cock, already leaking. He sighs in relief, gives himself a few strokes.

“Are you – Mox, is he touching himself?” Matt asks. “Stop it! That’s our job.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “Oh, because you’re the one in charge.”

Mox laughs.

“I could be in charge!” Matt says, and he starts pulling at Mox’s hand enough that he slips out of his grip. He dives off the bed into Adam’s lap and grabs Adam’s hands, pins them to the side of the bed.

Adam does his best not to smile, but this is great. “Baby. You’re so good at so many things, but you’ll never be a top.” Matt literally pouts, gets those big fucking boo boo eyes that get Adam every time. But he’s not a liar. “Come on, sweetheart, look inside yourself. You know it to be true.”

“Oh, fuck, you quote Star Wars in bed?” Moxley says, sounding strangely delighted. Adam bucks his hips and knocks Matt off his lap, sending him sprawling, so he can look at Mox’s face. He’s grinning so wide he looks like he won the lottery. “Between the two of you, you hit all my fuckin’ buttons. Get the fuck back onto the bed. I gotta get inside of one of you before I lose my goddamned mind.”

Matt stands up, pulls off his sweats all the way. “My turn. Adam’s being a dick.”

“You were on my lap, I needed to get you off.”

Mox and Matt, at the exact time, say, “That’s what she said.”

“Oh, god, you’re both like this,” Adam grumbles. “Okay, well, if that didn’t kill my boner, nothing will.” He nods at Mox. “You want him?”

“Sure!” Mox says. “Matty, come over here.”

Matt rolls his eyes, but he crawls back up on the bed and throws a leg over Mox’s hips, twitching his hips forward just a little. It’s enough to get Mox to exhale shakily. The composure is breaking. Maybe Adam’s not the one who can do it.

Adam watches greedily as Matt and Mox kiss each other deeply, Mox’s hand grabbing at Matt’s ass. He pats it gently.

“Is it okay…?”

Matt nods. “Yeah, oh yeah. Leave handprints on my ass, all that.”

Mox quirks an eyebrow and looks over to Adam. “He always like this?”

“Usually,” Adam remembers. “Loves to talk about it, too.” He winks at Matt.

“Oh?” Mox says. “Tell me, Matt. How hard?”

“Handprints,” Matt repeats. “Please?”

Mox grins as he pulls back, the crack of his hand against Matt’s ass music to Adam’s ears. Matt drops his head down against Mox’s shoulder, rocking his hips forward. “Oh.”

Adam stands up behind Matt, drawing back. His slap is a little more gentle, but Matt responds to it, too, tilting his head back this time to rest against Adam’s chest.

Matt turns up and catches Adam’s mouth in a kiss. When he breaks away, he pats at Adam’s chest, and Adam steps away, interested in what comes next. He’s not disappointed. “Mox, can I suck your dick?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

Adam settles himself on the bed next to Mox as Matt drops to his knees. Without prelude or fanfare, Matt tucks his loose hair behind his ear and dives in, mouth stretching around Mox’s cock like it’s not the first time.

Mox’s eyes flutter closed, hands gripping at the sheets. “Oh, fuck, you’re good at this.”

“He likes it when you pull his hair,” Adam murmurs into Mox’s ear. “He gets this little look – just try it.”

Matt nods, and he looks so goddamn good with Mox’s cock in his mouth that it makes Adam want to drop to his knees and propose right then and there.

“Good,” Mox says, voice honey and gravel. Adam watches, raptly, as Mox threads his fingers through Matt’s hair, and pulls.

Matt moans around Mox’s cock, sinking deeper onto it as his eyes flutter closed.

“Yeah,” Adam says, brushing Matt’s cheek where Mox’s dick nudges that. “So pretty, baby.” He looks up to Mox. “You can pull harder.”

He grins a little. “Okay, Cowboy, who said you were in charge here?”

“Who said you were?” Adam retorts, licking his lips. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“It’s my hotel room.”

There’s an infuriated little noise followed by a wet pop. “Can you two stop arguing about who’s gonna be better at topping me and just do it?” Matt asks. He looks genuinely annoyed, which, to Adam’s own annoyance, is also hot. “Jesus, what’s a guy gotta do to get fucked around here?”

Adam sighs and grabs a fistful of Matt’s hair so he stands, pulling him into his lap. Matt sighs happily as he settles on Adam’s legs. “Least you could do is ask nicely.”

“Eff that,” Matt says. “Right now you guys are being annoying and, still, nobody’s fucking me.”

“You really haven’t changed.”

Mox laughs, low and dark and delicious. “This may be my best idea yet. Matt, kiss Adam.”

Matt does so without hesitation, leaning over Mox and pressing his lips to Adam’s. Adam opens up to it without a second thought, smacking Matt’s ass again. Matt hums in approval, grinding down on Adam, and it’s enough encouragement to get Adam to suck at Matt’s collarbone. Mox might be here, but Matt is, and always has been, Adam’s.

Adam leans back on the bed, pulling Matt with him. Matt kisses down his chest, biting at his chest, leaving little marks.

“Mine,” Matt mutters, “mine again.”

“That’s sweet,” Mox says. “What else do you want, Matt?” He plays with Matt’s hair, and the vision of Mox behind Matt is a glorious sight.

“I have an idea,” Matt says, punctuating with one last nip at Adam’s nipple, “like, a really good idea.”

“Hmm?” Adam asks, dazed. Mox rubs at Matt’s hips, up his sides, to the back of his neck.

“What if – mm – what if Adam, you fuck me while – while Mox fucks you?”

Adam pauses. “Oh?” It’s never been an option before, but it’s suddenly all Adam’s ever wanted.

“You never get railed enough,” Matt says, like he’s discussing Adam being low on vitamin c, “you need it, but I don’t…do that. So.” He looks over at Mox, big ol’ Bambi eyes in full force. “Would you do that for him?”

“For him?” Mox asks, a splash of laughter in his tone. “Baby, I’ll do that for me.” He taps Adam. “Hey. Cowboy. You down for that?” He locks his eyes on Adam’s.

“Yes.” Adam’s voice comes out as a squeak. He clears his throat. “Um, hell yes. Please. Yes.” He shakes his head. “Definitely. You got condoms? Lube?”

Mox leans over to the hotel room drawer and pulls the supplies out.

“They just keep that stuff in there now?” Adam jokes.

“We’d have saved a bunch of money in the Ring of Honor days if they did,” Matt says.

“Nah,” Mox says, with a lewd sort of grin. “I bring my shit any time I think somebody on the roster might want to have a little fun.”

Adam blinks. “Damn.”

“You two have been on my radar for a while, though, so nobody for a bit.” He reaches out for Adam and pulls him in, lips going for Adam’s neck. His mind goes a little blank, hands gripping at whatever’s in front of him, desperate for this to never stop.

“If you want to give Matt what he wants, we’re going to have to stop,” Mox says.

Adam shakes his head, pulls back. “Right. What’s next?”

Mox’s grin is slow and dirty. “Just watch.”

And Adam does. He watches as Mox, with painstaking, careful, concentration, opens Matt up, fingers nimble and slick as they slide in and out of Matt.

“So pretty,” Adam murmurs into Matt’s ear, pressing kisses.

Matt smiles. “He does it different than you.”

“Good different?”

Matt nods. “Very good.”

“He takes it so well, huh?” Adam says to Mox. “Just wait ‘til you see him take my cock.”

Mox rolls his shoulders, and his gaze burns when he meets Adam’s eyes. “That sounds like a fuckin’ dream.”

Adam gets impatient fast, watching the glacial pace of Mox working up from one finger, and grabs the lube himself.

“What are you doing?” Matt asks, looking intrigued.

“Mox is busy,” Adam says, slicking up his fingers. He drops back on the bed next to Matt. “Sometimes to get a job done you have to do it yourself.”

“Impatient,” Mox chides, but his eyes are sliding between Matt and Adam, like he can’t decide where to focus longer.

Adam’s mind goes a little blank as he works himself up to one, two, three fingers. Mox matches his pace with Matt once he starts to beg. At some point, Matt’s reached over and grabbed Adam’s arm, which is so sweet that Adam whines.

“You ready, Adam?” Mox asks. “Looks like Matt’s ready for you.”

“So ready,” Matt says, nails digging into Adam’s bicep. “C’mon, Adam, please.”

It takes a minute to get everyone in the right place to make this work. Sliding into Matt is like opening your front door when you get home, Matt laid out on the bed like an angel. Adam’s body covers him completely, fucking into Matt a few times to get that frustrated, desperate look out of his eyes, but he stills as he feels Mox’s hands on his hips.

“I’m gonna check with you, like, thirty times,” Mox says, stroking up and down Adam’s sides. “If anything feels off, you gotta tell me, okay?”

“Yeah,” Adam replies. The waiting is almost too much to take. He hears Mox slick himself up behind him, feels the head of his cock nudge up against him. “Oh, my god, do you get off on torture or something? Get in me already.”

Matt laughs. “You sound like me.”

“Yeah, sexually transmitted brat,” Mox chuckles. “Okay, Adam, you ready?”

“Obviously.”

Adam almost collapses. Mox fills him painfully slowly, like he’s taking the time to memorize every inch of Adam, and Matt reaches up to cup Adam’s cheek.

“You like it?” Matt asks, like there’s any answer but yes.

Adam nods, turning his head to press a kiss to Matt’s palm. “Yeah, baby. All of it.”

They all settle around each other, and Adam’s never felt this before: filled and surrounded. He’s drowning in the way Mox curls around his back, hands on his hips. The way Matt’s threaded his fingers with Adam’s, is smiling up at Adam like he’s everything Matt could have imagined.

“You can start moving,” Adam says, wiggling his hips. He hears Mox exhale hard against the back of his neck, sees Matt press his eyes closed at the moment.

Mox presses a kiss to the back of Adam’s neck. “Okay.”

Adam doesn’t think he’s ever felt this right in his life.

“You good, Cowboy?” Mox asks. He sounds strained, the way Adam feels, buried to the hilt.

It’s almost too much, Adam thinks, Mox filling him while he feels the heat of Matt curling around him. “Good,” Adam gasps. “So good.”

“Matt, he look okay?” Mox asks.

“He looks great,” Matt says, and the way he locks eyes with Mox over Adam’s shoulder is almost enough for Adam to come right then and there. “He – oh, god – he’s.” But Matt cuts himself off, twisting his hips so that Adam sees stars in his vision.

“I’m good,” Adam says, “I – please.”

“Sounds like Matt’s not the only one who can ask pretty,” Mox murmurs into Adam’s ear, and Adam can’t help it. His hips buck forward, shifting Matt a tiny bit up the bed.

But the movement isn’t what catches his attention – Matt’s face falls open in a perfect little gasp, hands gripping at the sheets. “Yes,” he moans. “I forgot how good this is.”

“You guys do this a lot?” Mox asks, and he pulls out slowly. Adam’s about to beg for him to fuck him harder, when Mox starts a steady pace. Adam almost doesn’t have to do anything to push into Matt, but he picks up Moxley’s rhythm and is able to match it with thrusts into Matt’s body. It’s easier to coordinate than he would have expected, but they’ve all been in the ring together. This is just a different way to do it.

“Used to,” Adam manages. He’s spinning with sensation, with the warmth and the smell and the feel of it all. “Stopped for a while. Broke up.”

“Back together now?”

“How the fuck,” Matt pants, “are you so put together, Moxley?” It’s a fair question – Adam feels wrecked already and he hasn’t even come, and Matt’s face is so screwed up that he looks like he’s in pain.

“Practice,” Mox laughs. “And I have a job to do.”

They’re quiet for a while, save for wordless sounds from any of the three of them, and Adam focuses on Matt, mostly. He knows the way he likes it, memorized years ago the way to move to hit the right spots. The places on his body that are the most sensitive. He brushes a thumb across Matt’s lips. “You good, baby?”

“Close,” Matt whines. “I – can I?”

“If you ask nicely,” Mox says, “what do you think, Adam, does Matty deserve to come?”

“I think so,” Adam says, picking up the pace along with Moxley. He wants Matt to come first. He always makes sure Matt comes first. “Matt?”

“Please,” Matt begs, “god, please, I gotta – Adam,” his voice goes soft, his eyes meet Adam’s. Those big doe eyes do Adam in every time. “Adam, please. Touch me.”

And how could anyone say no? Adam steadies himself with one hand and reaches between them to stroke Matt’s cock with his and Moxley’s thrusts. It requires a level of coordination Adam finds himself thankful to wrestling for. He wouldn’t be here and wouldn’t be able to pull any of this of without it.

“Faster,” Adam tells Mox, and he complies. Matt needs it fast, a little rough, when he’s this close. There’s no way that’s changed.

Adam’s right – quickly, Matt’s coming all over his belly and Adam’s hand with a wordless sigh that makes him look goddamned ethereal.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Moxley says, “Cowboy, you ready to go?”

“What?”

Mox laughs in his ear. “Ready for me to wreck you?”

“Oh, fuck yes. Just – hold on one second.” He leans down, feeling Mox slide out of him in a way that leaves him squirming, but he presses a kiss to Matt’s forehead. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, beaming. “Wanna see you and Mox.”

Adam presses a quick kiss to his mouth and pulls out of him, rubbing at Matt’s thighs soothingly as Matt adjusts. It only takes seconds, though, until Matt is up at the headboard, half-lidded eyes staring at Adam and Mox like he’d be ready to go again in minutes.

Adam ties off the condom and manages to get it in the trash without much problem, something he’d probably gloat about if he wasn’t about to get railed within an inch of his life by Jon Moxley.

Moxley grabs Adam by the waist. “Alright, slide down to the end of the bed. I’m gonna fuck you so Matt can see your pretty face when you come.”

Adam and Matt make a dumb whining sound at the same time, but Adam will intentionally not remember that. He does as Mox says, and Mox throws one of his legs over his shoulders. “Good?”

“So fucking good,” Adam pants.

“Hang on, Hangman,” Mox says with a wink.

And hang on he does. He’s worried he’s about to slip off the bed, but Mox has a decent grip on Adam and he doesn’t fall, no matter how close he comes to it. Matt slides down to his level, pressing the sweetest little kisses to his cheeks, chest, neck, licking over the bruises on his chest from earlier, a hand over his stomach as his muscles flutter and tense. “Doing so good,” Matt murmurs into his ear, “never seen you like this, you take it so well.”

Adam forces his eyes open to see Matt, hair framing his face like a halo, and that’s what does him in. Matt kisses him as the moment washes over him, coming hard across his stomach and Matt’s arm where it rests across Adam’s chest.

“So – fucking – pretty,” Mox moans, and Adam feels Mox coming by the way he digs his fingernails into Adam’s thigh. He makes all these little noises, ones Adam’s used to hearing from Matt, as his hips stutter. Adam feels dizzy.

Mox drops to his knees, resting his forehead on Adam’s thigh.

“You good, Mox?” Adam asks. He reaches out and strokes the back of Mox’s neck. “Okay?”

“Awesome,” Mox says on an exhale. His whole body shivers. “Oh, man, I’ve been dreaming of that since I joined this fuckin’ company.” He lifts his head, grinning.

They all catch their breath where they lay for a few moments. Unsurprisingly, Matt’s the one to break the silence. “Everybody back on the bed,” he says, scooting back. “I’m cold.”

All Adam can manage is to flop on the bed face down onto the last pillow that didn’t get kicked off. “Night.”

“Absolutely not,” Mox says, pushing at his hip. “Give me that pillow.”

“Nope.” Adam says, snuggling down. “I live here now.”

“Then I’m getting a cigarette,” Mox says. “Lord knows I need one after that.” Adam takes in the sounds of the room. Rustling, a door opening, the flick of a lighter.

Matt snuggles around him, arms around his waist. “This isn’t as comfortable without a pillow.”

“Check the floor,” Adam mumbles.

The bed shifts. “Uh oh,” Matt says.

“What?” Mox asks. He sounds a bit far away.  

Matt plants his hands on his hips. “The lube spilled. Like, everywhere.” He picks up a pillow, now practically translucent. “I think these sheets are a goner.”

“Oh, Tony’s gonna be pissed at that hotel bill,” Adam mumbles, still face down in a pillow. He feels somebody brush his hair off his neck, and sits up to see Matt beaming at him.

“You guys are too fuckin’ cute,” Mox says. Adam turns to see him on the balcony. He takes a drag on his cigarette from where he sits, shirtless with the sweatpants back on, looking fucked out. It’s a good look. “Weird you were both just begging to be railed within an inch of your lives.”

“I can be cute and horny,” Matt says, tying his hair back

“Damn right you can,” Adam grumbles. He pushes himself up, rolling his shoulders and flexing, the stiffness from the match replaced with the delicious ache after sex. “I’m hungry. How’s room service here?” He turns to see Matt staring at him, looking hungry in a very different way.

“It’s good,” Mox says. “Got the mac and cheese last night.”

Matt wrinkles his nose. Adam wants to kiss it. “That would eff me up for days.”

“Oh, baby, we took care of fucking you up,” Adam laughs, nuzzling into Matt’s neck. He wraps his arms around Matt’s waist and rolls him back into bed. It’s a level of comfort and familiarity that Adam hadn’t realized he’s been aching for, craving, for years.

Matt hums as Adam presses kisses to his hair.

There’s heavy footsteps and the bed dips again, an arm thrown over Matt and Adam. “I like you two,” Mox says, and Matt raises his head to see Mox spooning up behind Adam in a surprisingly charming move. “We should definitely do this again.”

Adam mutters something through a yawn, and his grip goes a little loose around Matt.

“Oh, wait, hold on,” Matt says. “I gotta go shower before we sleep. And there’s no way we’re staying in this bed. We have, like, one pillow and half of a sheet.”

“We’ll make it down to my room,” Adam says. “We can go in shifts or something.”

“Nah,” Mox says. “Let ‘em see.”

It takes a while to find all of the clothes the three of them had thrown around the room, but they make their way down to Adam’s room. The neat bed is inviting, and Adam throws himself down onto it. “Go shower, baby,” he murmurs. “Mox’ll order food and I’m gonna nap.”

“How come you don’t have to do anything?” Matt laughs.

Adam flips him off, and dozes off.

“You know,” Mox says, on what is probably the fiftieth ponytail, “you keep pulling at it, you’re gonna just yank it out.”

Matt jumps about a foot, whirls around to see Mox. He wasn’t hiding, technically. It’s just that the Bucks have so much fucking luggage it’s easily for someone to hide behind it, make themselves smaller than necessary. “How long have you been there?!”

“Bout two or three minutes,” Mox replies, stretching out his legs in front of him as he settles into a chair. “Long enough to watch you freak out about your hair. What’s the deal?”

“It’s this stupid cowlick,” Matt grumbles, pushing down. If Mox really looks, he can see it. A little irregularity in the otherwise perfectly smooth head of the best hair in the locker room. “I got it a while back when I fell funny during a ladder match. Scraped off part of my scalp, and the hair grew back all curly.” He pushes down at it again, frowning, like it bothers him more knowing where it came from. “Stupid – usually I can get it under control, but today…” He trails off, growling in frustration.

“Maybe I can help.” The words are out before Mox can stop them. There are maybe four instance in the universe where he could see himself helping Matt Jackson, and at least two of them involve a zombie apocalypse, so he has no idea what the hell is coming out of his mouth. “Yeah, come on. I used to do braids for my sister when my mom was at work early.” He stands, walking over to Matt. His hands settle themselves on Matt’s shoulders without Mox's permission.

Matt’s voice is tiny when he sits in metal chair in front of a locker and says, “Okay.”

Mox works in silence as he works around the bumpy spot. He had a couple spots like this in the back of his head from some gnarly light tube bumps and one particularly interesting encounter with a broken whisk, but he never worried about it like Matt does. Matt does seem to relax as Mox works, though, leaning against the back of the chair and tilting his head as Mox directs. His eyes are closed.

Mox twists the strands over each other, a French braid on either side of Matt’s hair until he’s ready to join them in a single braid down the middle. He looks a little like one of those elves from Lord of the Rings, but prettier.

Oh, fuck. He’s getting fond.

“Okay,” Mox murmurs when he’s got the final tie done, voice too gentle. “Go take a look.”

Matt’s eyes flutter open and look up at Mox with that infuriating cow-eyed earnestness. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I could’a fucked it up.”

Matt practically beams at him. “I don’t think so.” He pulls out his phone, tilting back and forth. “Wow. This is…involved.”

Mox shrugs. “I figured a basic ponytail would make it easier for the bump to stand out. Make it a little more intricate, the curls blend in, you know?”

Matt does a bizarre arm movement. “I can’t see the back.”

“Want me to take a picture?”

Matt nods. “Yes, thank you.”

So goddamned polite, when he’s not being an arrogant prick. Mox is annoyed with how endeared he’s becoming. He snaps a few at different angles, sure to catch the places where the braids come together in what may be the cleanest braid he’s ever done. “Here you go.”

Matt scrolls through the photos, mouth open. “You’re – you’re really good at this.”

Mox shrugs. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“No kidding.” Matt reaches up and presses his hand lightly to the braid, like he’s still not convinced it’s on his head. “I can’t even figure out where the bump was.” He starts pushing around.

“You – quit that! You’ll mess it up!” Mox grabs Matt’s hand, and, fuck, his heart stutters.

Matt looks up at him, big brown eyes so goddamn sweet through long lashes, and Mox decides to make a terrible decision. He leans down, presses a kiss to Matt’s lips, fucks up every good decision he’s ever made.

It’s quick, though, chaste and gentle and definitely does not give Mox chills, because that would be lame.

“Oh,” Matt says, eyes wide. “Oh. That’s a thing that happened.”

Mox won’t be the one to break eye contact first. “Uh. Yup.”

Matt breaks into a grin. Mox feels like he’s basking in sunshine. Matt stands up, doesn’t break eye contact. “I, um. It could be a thing that happens again?”

Mox sighs, because he’s always been a sucker. It’s his fault for sneaking into the Bucks’ locker room, isn’t it. “It could.”

The fucker literally twirls a lock of hair around his finger. “You gonna lean down or are you gonna make me stand on my toes?”

With an eye roll, Mox rests his hand on the back of Matt’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss, a little firmer than before, something with a bit more of a bite behind it. Matt settles his hands on Mox’s waist, thumbs rubbing fascinating little patterns into his skin. When they break apart, Matt looks relaxed, which is not something Mox can say for himself.

“Maybe I should have vanity crises more often, if it gets me this,” Matt laughs.

Mox leans down and kisses Matt, because if Mox gets his tongue in Matt’s mouth, maybe he won’t be able to say anything ridiculous.

A ringing phone is what breaks them apart eventually.

“My alarm!” Matt says, looking, himself, alarmed. “I was supposed to be getting warmed up for my match, like, now.” He starts digging through his stuff, tassels and cans of spray tan becoming projectiles Mox only barely dodges. “Oh, come on. Where’s my hoodie?”

Mox sighs, because apparently he’s back in high school but, this time, he’s the big dumb jock. “Want my hoodie?”

Matt lights up like a goddamn Christmas tree. “Really?”

Mox pulls it off over his head, passes it to Matt. “Yeah. I’m the one who made it so you don’t have time to find yours.” He grins as Matt holds it in his hands. “Least I could do.”

Matt pulls it on without another word, over the braids with delicate precision. Mox gets a little warm with how it’s just the right side of too-big to be cozy and warm. “Okay,” Matt says. “Yeah, we – we gotta talk about this after my match. Like, definitely gotta talk.” He reaches out and squeezes Mox’s hand. He still hasn’t stopped glowing. “Um. Okay. Bye.”

Mox doesn’t let his hand go, though, and pulls him back. “One more for the road?”

“Okay, well. Yeah. I’m not gonna say no.”

Mox pulls Matt back to him for another kiss, and gives himself the luxury of, for once, not worrying about what happens next.

~

Mini Playlist (just as sugary sweet as the fic): Uh Oh - Junior Doctor Cross My Heart - Marianas Trench Cut to the Feeling - Carly Rae Jepsen Catch Your Wave - The Click Five