#moxregal

Shaking fury rolls off of him in a way that makes Mox feel nauseous. It doesn't have to be like this, never had to be, he didn't have to care.

"And what do you know about it old man? Huh?" His voice is half slurred, as he unteathers too quickly from himself. "I just- just don't fucking touch me. Don-" His tongue thick and heavy in his mouth.

Mox and Seth work their asses off. For the next few months, Mox learns how to safely bind and work out at the same time, which clients he meshes with and which he wants to throw through the windows. He gives those clients to Paige, who is much better at being bitchy in a nice way.

His, boss, though. He never lets up. For Seth, Paige, and the other trainers, Regal gives a couple of compliments, enough to balance out the critiques. When it comes to clients, he pushes them gently, checks in with them through the day to ensure the trainers, classes, and equipment are of exemplary quality, but he doesn’t leave Mox alone. He insists on perfection from Mox. That’s fine, Mox decides, he’ll give him perfection. His clients love him. He finishes all paperwork well before deadlines. He speaks to sponsors and gets them to donate more than strictly necessary to the gym

Mox goes above and beyond for William Regal and the gym. But, no matter what he does, it’s not good enough.

“Mr. Moxley,” Regal says, “your form is mediocre. Should you wish to work in my gym, I insist you improve to ensure you don’t poorly educate our clients.”

“Mr. Moxley,” Regal says, “I do not endeavor to house street rats in my establishment. This is a place of business, not a hovel in a back alley. Do get a haircut within the week.”

“Mr. Moxley,” Regal says, “please refrain from making love to clients in the showers. While I appreciate your attempts to keep the ring unsullied, it is a bit uncouth, wouldn’t you say?”

It’s the last one, on an already bad morning, that gets him. Natalya had asked him. It’d been her idea, something to blow off steam after a fucking terrible first class of bitchy clients. And, somehow, Mox was getting all the blame.

The rage stews in him through the morning until it’s the break for lunch. Regal is alone, checking inventory in the locker room when Mox goes in, and, well. Mox can’t resist.

“So,” Mox says, before he can stop himself, “what’s your problem with me nailing people in the locker rooms? Trust me, I clean everything.”

Regal’s face pinches, just a bit. Enough to let Mox know he’s getting under his skin. “It’s not appropriate for employees to engage in amorous activities with other employees.” There’s something tiny in the way Regal’s eyes flicker, the way they can’t seem to meet Mox’s.

Mox raises an eyebrow. Now they’re getting somewhere. “Oh, are you jealous?” Mox asks. He gets into Regal’s space, hands in his pockets. “You want some of this? Jealous I’m not getting on you?”

Regal’s careful lack of expression doesn’t fail, but Mox doesn’t miss the way his eyes flick down, briefly, to Mox’s lips. He can work with that. “I’d rather say I’d be getting on you, darling.”

Mox doesn’t think before he reacts, getting into Regal’s space just a little bit more, so they could be kissing if Regal makes the move. “Yeah? Prove it, bitch.”

There’s a hand around his throat before he can move, shoving him up against the lockers. It’s exactly where Regal had caught Mox and Natalya earlier that morning. Mox can’t help but smile. “You have an attitude on you, Mr. Moxley. One would expect an employee to know his place.”

Mox laughs, licking his lips. “One would expect the owner of a gym to have less of a stick up his ass, but here we fuckin’ are.”

Regal presses harder, crowding even farther into Mox’s space. “Such a mouth on you.” He rubs his thumb across Mox’s lips.

“Yeah?” And Mox knows where this is going. He knows. “Why don’t you shut me up, then?”

With a groan that sounds less turned on and more infuriated, Regal crushes his mouth against Mox’s, hand dropping from his throat and going for the back of his thigh. He hitches Mox’s thigh up around his waist, and Mox slips down the side of the lockers, just a little bit, until Regal presses between his legs, slamming him into the wall.

Sensations flood through him. Regal had interrupted his moment with Natalya before he’d gotten his, so he’d been worked up all day and gotten no release. He grinds against Regal’s thigh.

“Uh, you should probably know,” he says, arching into the way the guy grabs at his sides, “I’m trans.”

“I’m aware of that, Mr. Moxley,” Regal says.

Mox blinks. “Oh. Right.”

“Does that change anything?” Regal asks in his controlled British accent. He backs away, just in a little, and it makes Mox want to haul him back in. “Change your interest in this,” he pushes his thigh up, and Mox almost collapses on the spot, “encounter?”

Mox gets a little hot, a little shivery. “Some people…”

“I am not,” Regal says, biting at Mox’s jawline, “some people.”

Mox’s world is whirling as Regal shoves him up onto the bathroom counter. “I want to ensure I have your permission?”

“Permission to what?” Mox asks, because it’s unfair of this guy to rail him without being a little annoying about it.

Regal’s laugh is low. “Take you,” he says into Mox’s ear, serious and stern, “on this counter, however you want, until you scream.”

“Yeah, all the permission,” Mox says, hands scrabbling for Regal’s belt.

Regal grins, and there’s a hint of something mean behind it, something Mox is almost aching to taste. “Wonderful. You will tell me if you object to any of my,” he pauses, a little grin on his lips, “ministrations, will you not?”

“I will,” Mox says, trying to keep himself from squirming against Regal. He’s desperate for some little kind of friction. “I will, just. Get your dick in me. C’mon.”

“Hmm,” Regal says, biting at Mox’s throat, “maybe I want to hear your ask nicely?”

“Please,” Mox says, like he’s got no qualms about being desperate, “please, fuck me.”

“So polite,” Regal says. “I knew you would behave with a little motivation.”

Regal fucks him, hard, on the counter of the gym bathroom, one rhythm, steady pounding, not an ounce of hesitation. Mox holds onto his shoulder, reaching down between them to slide his fingers against his clit. He’s baffled, when he’s able to think, about how easily Regal props him up, holds him where he wants him, how devastatingly he drives into him.

“Close,” Mox whimpers, fingers stroking at hit clit with single minded focus, “c’mon, fuck me harder,” and he pauses, because he’s always down to try something, “Daddy.”

Regal’s gaze burns him. “Louder, pet, so Daddy can hear you.”

“Please,” Mox moans, “Daddy, harder.”

Regal laughs, not unkind, exactly, “Knew you could be a sweet thing.” He picks up the pace. “Go ahead, little prince, come for me.”

Mox hate that he does, hates that he comes on command for this demanding asshole of a boss, but it hits like him like an 18 wheeler. His words come out as something close to the word Daddy, not quite, but close enough he’s annoyed about it. “Want you to come in me,” he gasp. It’s a stupid idea, he knows. But he needs it. “Come on, Daddy.”

Regal lets out this strange little sound, something desperate and unhinged Mox knows Regal would never admit to outside of this moment. He feels Regal get a little frantic, and then it’s his cock pulsing inside of Mox.

“This was fucking stupid,” Mox says, still pinned up against the wall. He’s hot and sweaty and his head is in the fucking stratosphere, but he’s still annoyed. “I shouldn’t have let you come in me.”

“Petulant arse,” Regal says, but he punctuates it with a kiss to Mox’s cheek, something so charming it makes Mox want to strangle him. “I trust you would have told me if that was no longer on the table, however.” He steps back, giving Mox the space to slide off the table and pull his gym shorts and boxers back up his hips, well aware he’ll need to change within the next twenty minutes.

“I would’a,” Mox says. He runs his hand through his hair, trying to get it back to the casual messiness instead of the sex-mussed chaos. “Was fun.” He looks up at Regal again, feeling strangely hesitant to meet his eyes. “I, uh. I got a client at the top of the hour. First timer, so I gotta look my best. According to my boss, I mean.” He grins, trying to look cocky. “I don’t give a shit.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Regal says. Before Mox leaves, though, he reaches up and rubs a thumb against Mox’s jaw. “Be well, Jon.” It’s almost a caress. There’s almost something sweet behind Regal’s eyes.

It’s the first time he’s called Mox by his first name.

It’s also, as Mox discovers the next day, the last time.

Regal’s gone at the end of the day, leaving Mox and Paige to close up, but Mox doesn’t think anything of it until the next day.

“Where the fuck is Regal?” he asks, walking through the gym. He figures the amount he’s run up and down the stairs trying to find him counts as his cardio for the day. “Yo! Seth! Where’s the boss?”

He blinks. “Dude, you don’t know?”

Mox shakes his head. “Know what?”

Seth studies his face, and Mox is suddenly convinced his time with Regal is written all over his face. “Oh, man. Yesterday was his last day.”

Something ice cold and cruel slides down Mox’s back. “What?” The room isn’t spinning, exactly. But it’s not steady.

Seth’s eyes glance around the place as he steps up to Mox. “Do you need to sit down?”

Mox finds himself nodding, a little baffled. “He left?”

“He left,” Seth said. He frowns, staring at Mox. “What’s wrong with you?”

Mox falls, a little too hard, onto a weight bench. “Uh.”

“Mox, what the fuck did you do?” Seth stares at him, and Mox half hopes he figures it out without Mox having to say a single word.

Mox looks up at Seth, trying to look pitiful enough to not get mocked. “Don’t judge me.”

Seth groans. “You fucked him, didn’t you.”

“I didn’t plan on it!” Mox says. “Just. Yesterday, he was being annoying, And I. It just happened.”

“I really wish you would stop sleeping with people because they pissed you off.” Seth sits down across from Mox. “Are you okay?”

Mox shrugs. “I – I guess? I just though, if he’d, he would have…” He pauses, looking up. “He just left?”

“Maybe it was his version of going out with a bang?” Seth asks. “Fuck. Not what I meant. I mean, maybe it was his way of saying goodbye.”

Mox shrugs. “Wish he’d just talked to me.”

He’s a little out of sorts the rest of the day, a cloud hanging over him even with his favorite clients. By the last few minutes, all he wants to do is burn some of this anxiety.

“You want to get dinner or something?” Seth asks as they pick up their things.

Mox shrugs as he changes out of his gym gear and into clean, dry clothes. “Or we go out to a club.”

With a long suffering sigh, Seth pulls out his phone. “Let me call Roman. If he doesn’t have plans tonight, sure.”

“Cool,” Mox says, grinning. “Let’s go fuck shit up.”

“Sometimes I miss being single and fucking everything that moves,” Seth says, holding the door for Mox, “and then, I see you being all weird like this, and I’m so goddamn glad I’m with Roman.”

~~~

“Still am,” says Seth, yawning. “I’m heading to bed, you two. Mox, don’t lie about anything!”

“I wouldn’t lie,” Mox insists, and Wheeler sees himself in the way he rolls his eyes. “Do I lie, Wheeler?”

“Not as far as I know,” he answers.

Seth stands, stretching as he yawns louder than strictly necessary. Like he always has.

Wheeler waves. “Night, Uncle Seffie.”

“Night, potato.” He stumbles down the hall, and Wheeler can hear Roman’s low grumble as Seth inevitably wakes him up.

Mox eyes Wheeler. “You want to crash? Seth and Ro are in your old room, but you’re welcome to sleep on the couch.”

Wheeler shakes his head. “No. I want to hear the whole story. Tonight.”