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banannabethchase · 1 year

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Adam has a run in with someone from his past, and forgets something very important.

Warnings for: underage drinking, Hangst (Hangman Angst tm tm tm), and a lot of misery on the parts of all our boys.

Mini Playlist: Passion for Publication - Anarbor My Own Medicine - The Summer Set Push - Marianas Trench Heart to Break - Kim Petras

Matt Jackson is staring daggers.

“Um,” Adam says, trying to force the bile back down his throat. “That’s my locker.”

“I know it’s your locker,” Matt practically spits. “That’s why I’m here.”

Adam feels himself shrink away from the gaze.

“I want to know what you’re doing,” Matt says. “If you’ve got some plan here or something.”

“Plan – what do you even mean?” Adam sighs. “Look, can I just get my stuff? I don’t want any problems here, Matt. Just let me live.”

Matt steps to the side, but he doesn’t leave. He just keeps looking at Adam, for some god forsaken reason. As Adam grabs his Chemistry book, Matt makes a weird, frustrated noise. “Why are you hanging out with Moxley?” Matt asks. It’s harsh, but there’s something in it. It makes Adam look up at him. Those big, brown eyes look hurt.

“He’s – we’re – he’s my boyfriend,” Adam says. He shuts his locker, a little too hard, and turns. He wants to make his stare make Matt feel just as awful as Matt’s makes him feel. “Why do you even care?”

“Because you’re killing Kenny and it’s wrong!” Matt yells.

Adam glances around, but the hallway is moving along like his world isn’t screeching to a halt. “Why the hell does Kenny care?”

Matt comes at him, too close for Adam to be able to breathe right. “Because he still loves you.”

Adam stumbles backward. “He what?”

“You knew that,” Matt says, sounding almost more like he’s trying to convince himself. “He’s miserable, Adam, and you’re just showing off your new toy like it’s nothing.”

“He broke up with me!” Adam yells. “Why the hell does he get to be upset?”

Matt blinks. “What?”

Adam searches his face for some sort of answer. “Kenny dumped me,” Adam continues. “Told me he didn’t associate with losers, and said we were done.”

“No,” Matt says, shaking his head. “He. He told me…” He trails off, meeting Adam’s eyes. “I gotta go.”

“You – really?” Adam asks, but Matt’s already darting off, running in the opposite direction. Adam steps to his locker to find himself shaking as he tries to pull his phone out of his pocket. He wants to text Mox, maybe Anna. Somebody who can get his head on straight.

“That seemed messy,” comes a voice.

Adam looks up, and there’s Sammy…Guevara? He isn’t sure. He’s never associated much with people on the football team. “I really don’t want to do this right now.”

“Nah, man, it’s cool.” Sammy claps him on the shoulder. “Those soccer kids are dicks, aren’t they. You glad to be away from them?”

Adam can’t help himself from glancing over to the doorway Matt disappeared into. “Uh. Yeah. I guess.”

Sammy eyes him. “You good?”

“No, actually,” Adam says, trying to do his breathing. Four, seven, eight. Four, seven, eight.

Adam doesn’t like the way Sammy studies him, sizes him up, stares into him. “You need something to take the edge off?” he asks.

“Not at school, I don’t,” Adam scoffs, wishing he were at home with a couple cans of beer and his cozy bed.

“You doing anything tonight?” Sammy asks.

Adam shakes his head. “Uh. No.” Mox and Eddie have a match, and he still hasn’t gathered the courage to go watch, doesn’t know what he’d do with himself. He doesn’t even realize he’s about to fall deeper into a habit when he says, “No, I’m not.”

He reflects on that conversation hours later, while he’s in the former football captain’s frat house, surrounded by varying levels of debauchery and chaos. He won’t even consider going into the kitchen, where the older college students are doing various unspeakable things to themselves and each other. He realizes, draining his glass of jungle juice, that it’s not the kind of debauchery and chaos he’d come to love from Mox and Eddie.

“Page, you made it!” Sammy says, clapping him on the shoulder. “You having a good time?” He clacks his plastic cup against Adam’s and the alcoholic sludge splashes all over both of them. “Oops.”

“Uh, yeah,” Adam says, nodding a little absently.

“Wanna chug with me?” Sammy asks. He’s really close to Adam. It makes him feel a little queasy. “Come on, the first glass always sucks. Chris says it gets better the more you drink.”

With a shrug, Adam throws back the concoction and does his best not to gag, swallowing it with only a bit of a fight from his stomach. “That is so gross.”

“That’s how you know it works,” Sammy says with a wink. “Come on. Let me introduce you to people.”

Sammy introduces Adam as “The Big Bitch” from the soccer team to everybody, and Adam hates it enough that he drinks another cup of sludge about it. He loses track of names and faces, getting shuffled around to more people than he’s even met in his life, let alone in one night.

“Yeah, you should’a seen it!” Chris Jericho says, clapping Adam on the back so hard he stumbles. “This guy here runs so fast for a tall guy. Slide tackles like a motherfucker.”

“I didn’t slide tackle!” Adam says, horrified. “That’s against the rules.”

“So’s drinking underage, but you don’t see me judging you for it.” Chris is smiling when he says it, but it makes Adam want to throw up. He throws back his drink again, and things go blurry.

Adam finds himself, cup in hand, sitting at a table with his head spinning. He sits up, a little confused, and looks around.

“He’s awake!” Chris says. “Hey, you know Moxley, right?”

Mox. His Mox. “Yeah! Is he coming?”

“Why don’t you invite him?” There’s something strange in Chris’ voice. It doesn’t – he doesn’t sound very nice right now. Adam can’t quite understand it. “We used to hang with him, ‘til he got all boring.” His smile bites Adam, somehow. “You gonna make him fun again, Big Guy?”

Adam doesn’t want to do anything Chris recommends, but he does want Mox. Mox might help him understand what’s going on here. “’m gonna call him,” Adam says. His mouth feels like it’s full of dust. “I miss him.”

Chris laughs like needles into skin, throwing his head back. “Have fun with that.”

Adam pulls his phone out and pulls up Mox’s phone number, calling.

“Hey, Cowboy – whoa, where are you? I can barely hear you.”

“Mox!” Adam says. He already feels better. “Hi, Mox!”

“Where are you?” Mox’s voice asks.

“I’m at a frat house,” Adam says. “At a party.” He frowns, knowing Mox can’t see him. “It’s a party, but I’m not having fun.”

There’s a pause on the end of the line. “A frat house?”

Adam nods, then realizes there’s no way Mox can see it. “Yeah and I miss you.” He grins. “You could come to the party, too! We can hang out!”

“Give me the address.” Mox’s voice sounds different than Adam is used to hearing. Gruff. He has the strangest feeling he’s forgetting something.

Adam texts Mox the address. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah,” Mox says, and his voice sounds even stranger now. Maybe it’s just the phone. “I’ll be there soon.”

Adam loses track of time and tries to have fun, but he can’t. He just wants to be close to Mox again, and he feels like time is making fun of him for how long it takes.

When he hears that voice, his Mox’s voice, he feels something inside him light up. He stands, and the room wobbles a little.

“Cowboy!” he hears Mox call across the house. He struggles to stand, but stumbles back onto the chair. “Where are ya? I ain’t waiting all night?”

“Here!” Adam says, and he stumbles again, falling back into the chair in a clump. “Uh. In the living room.”

Mox comes over, and is face is wrong. Adam thinks he sees a frown. “Adam?”

“Hi, babe, glad you made it!” He holds up his glass. “Cheers!”

Mox blinks. “Um. What is that?”

Adam shrugs. “Think it’s – think it’s vodka? I dunno. I think Sammy gave it to me. Or maybe Chris. He’s throwing this party.”

“I know,” Mox says, and he’s not touching Adam. Why’s he not touching Adam? “Are you, like…are you good?” He frowns. “I thought you – I thought maybe you needed help or something.”

“I’m totally good,” Adam says, but the word is interrupted with a hiccup.

Mox’s eyes dart around the room. Good. He’ll see that Adam definitely isn’t the drunkest one here. He’ll know this is normal. “Why’re you even here, Adam?”

“It’s a party!” Adam replies, throwing his hands in the air. The drink only splashes on him a little bit, on his sleeve. “See?” He points. “Those guys were on the football team, couple years ago.” Adam points to Chris. “It’s Chris Jericho, you know that?”

“Oh, I know him,” Mox says. He looks angry. “Wish I didn’t.”

Adam nods. “Yeah! And, like, they invited me at school, today. I figured, hey, why not?” He leans in and begins to whisper conspiratorially. “They always said they liked me better than Kenny and Matt and – and Nick.”

“Do you want them to like you?” Mox asks in disbelief. He gestures to the room.

Sammy and Tay are on the couch, making out, which Adam doesn’t think is so bad until he realizes they’re squishing up against two girls who clearly don’t want to be there. Chris is chugging from a funnel in a shirt that says, “Fuck Everybody,” and the funnel’s held by Jake, who Adam, legitimately, has never heard say a word about anything other than Chris Jericho or his hat. Two other guys, who Adam knows vaguely from school but isn’t aware of their names, are shouting at a couple of people about how much they love their son. He’s not positive, but he thinks they’re making some sort of joke.

“It’s a college party,” Adam says, trying to feel worldly, like he understands what’s going on. “Come on, Mox. It’s fun.”

Chris looks over at them. Adam’s about to wave him over, when something strange happens. Chris points to Mox and Adam, then throws his head back, laughing. Adam feels something twist in his chest, something sour like shame.

“You remember I don’t drink, right?” Mox says. He sounds strained. It’s weird. “Why’d you even – why did you want me to come here?”

“To see you!” Adam says. “I always wanna see you. You’re,” he hiccups again, “you’re my favorite, of everybody.”

Mox looks confused and uncomfortable and. And wrong. Something’s wrong. “Adam,” a voice that’s not quite Mox’s says, “I can’t do this. I can’t…I can’t be here.”

“Why not?” Adam asks, standing up and walking toward Mox. He trips over his feet, half stumbles into him.

“Sit down,” Mox says. “Adam, you realize Daniel is over there doing lines off of Chris’ stomach, right?”

Adam looks over. “Yeah! You like cocaine! You like to go to the library and take a cocaine and read!”

“I used to do that,” Mox hisses. “I stopped doing it because it was fucking me up.” He points to the room. “All of this was fucking me up!”

Adam frowns. “I didn’t know they were part of it. Did you do parties like these?” He runs the words through his mind again. Nothing’s coming out right. “Did you have party time – like here?”

“Yes!” Mox says. “With these people. I don’t drink because of shit like this!” He runs his hands over his head, begins pacing. “We talked about this, Adam, I – I promised Eddie I was done with all of this.” He rubs his hand against his jaw. “I don’t want to have to walk away,” His voice is small, his face broken. He looks nothing more than his seventeen years, young for the first time Adam’s been able to see him.

Adam does his best to steady, himself, but he sways when he stands. “I’m fine,” he slurs, and he’s doing what he can, he is, but he’s never had this much vodka at once and it’s making his head feel like slime. “You don’t gotta walk away.”

Mox starts walking backwards away from him, and it fills Adam with a cold dread. This is wrong. Something is so wrong. “Wait, where are you going?”

“I don’t want to be here,” Mox says, and he’s shaking his head. He looks wrong.

“But I – I thought you want to be with me,” Adam says. He can’t move. “I thought you wanted me.”

Mox wipes at his cheek. His eyes are shiny. “I want everything about you,” he says, and it’s so quiet that Adam can barely hear it over the music. “But I don’t want any of this.”

Adam doesn’t know how long it is before Mox – his Jon – leaves, and he’s confused. He’s so confused.

“Hey, saw that Killjoy left,” somebody says, clapping Adam’s shoulder. “Whoa, dude, are you crying?” Daniel Garcia pokes at his face. “Want to do a line of blow? That always makes me feel better when me and my boyfriend are fighting.”

Adam blinks, and Daniel is right, his face is wet. “I don’t – I wanna go home.”

“Party pooper,” Daniel says, and it’s weird to Adam that a freshman is so cool with all of this.

It’s weird, he realizes, that he would be cool with this.

Adam grabs his jacket, checks for his phone and wallet in his pockets, and stumbles out the front door. Nearly sobbing with relief, he fumbles his way down the porch steps without saying goodbye. He wants to find Jon. He wants to find his Mox. He also wants to stop crying.

“My Moxie,” he mumbles, tripping over uneven concrete, vision blurry, “Eddie’s gotta share the name.”

He follows the ice-damaged road until he hits the turn, and he sees somebody at the end on a bike, walking it over the stretch of potholes Adam remembers his truck bouncing on. Adam doesn’t call out to him. He doesn’t say anything. It’s not fair to ask this of Mox.

And then he’s the one who catches on a pothole, and goes down with a yell so loud he’s pretty sure it echoed.

The person on the bike stops, looks behind them, then makes their way toward him, calling, “Are you okay?”

Adam doesn’t respond. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to make Mox cry again. He’ll be okay. He wants Mox to get home safe.

“Adam?” Mox asks, dropping his bike and rushing to him. Adam dimly notes that Mox doesn’t trip on any of the potholes, and he’s a little bit envious. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I had to leave,” Adam mumbles, and he feels a little like he’s choking. He touches his face – the crying is probably doing that. “You weren’t happy I was there. I was doing – I wasn’t being who I need to be. Not for you. Had to go.”

“By yourself?!” Mox grabs him by the armpits and hauls him up, and Adam is mildly proud of himself for being able to stand. “Adam, you could have gotten hurt!” He looks down. “Fuck. You did get hurt.”

“M okay,” Adam says.

“No,” Mox says, “you’ve got blood all on your pants.”

Adam looks down and, yeah, Mox is right. His favorite jeans have a massive tear and a bloodstain. “Oh.”

“We’ll walk to the end of the road,” Mox says. He grabs Adam’s hand. It feels like a lifeline. “When we get to a normal, paved road again, you’ll get on my handlebars, if you can stay there.”

“Going home?” Adam asks, blinking slowly.

Mox nods, one hand on Adam and the other on the bike. “We’re going back your house. Get you settled in.”

“Parents are gone,” Adam mumbles. “Did so good last time they gone they took a weekend trip.”

Mox grumbles something like, “Can’t leave your dumb ass alone.”

Adam manages to stay balanced all the way home, doesn’t fall over back onto Mox more than once, and they reach Adam’s house. Adam doesn’t even almost throw up. Though he does want to, at one point. He pulls his key out from the necklace under his shirt. “Key.”

“Give me that,” Mox says, and he grabs it from Adam and shoves it in the lock. “Come on, Cowboy, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Mox does a fantastic job, even helping Adam gently work his jeans down so it’s easier to take care of the bloody mess that used to be his knee. Adam barely feels anything but shame as Mox meticulously cleans the scrape. He watches with a detached interest as the hydrogen peroxide bubbles and fizzes.

Mox looks up at him, big blue eyes kind but tired. “You scared the shit out of me tonight.”

Adam nods, but the motion makes his stomach do something funny. Mox leans to the side. “You gotta throw up?”

Adam shakes his head. “I’m okay.”

“Don’t –“ He stops himself. “Baby, you are so far from okay.”

Adam shrugs. He could have told Moxley that. They’re silent for a while, Mox checking Adam’s leg for any further injury.

“You fix up Eddie’s scratches after matches?” Adam asks.

“Yeah,” Mox says. “All of us wrestlers, we gotta take care of ourselves, you know?” He looks up at Adam again. “Are you okay if I stay over?”

Adam blinks. “Why do you want to?”

Mox’s face crumples, but he’s still, somehow, smiling. Adam’s pretty sure he’s still too drunk to understand what’s happening. “God, you beautiful idiot,” he sighs. “Because I think I love you, and you left the party for me, and I’m worried you’ll bleed out or choke on your vomit if you stay here alone, okay?”

Adam loses his grip on the side of the bathtub and almost slides in. “You love me?”

“Kinda wish I didn’t, right now,” Mox says, sitting next to Adam, “but, yeah. You reckless dumbass. I love you. It’s why I had to walk away earlier.” He turns to Adam, those blue eyes honest and kind and…and all Mox.

“I’m sorry,” Adam says, voice as small as he feels. “I forgot – I forgot that part.” He kicks at the trash can.

“Water under the bridge,” Mox says, resting his hand on top of Adam’s leg. “You left. That means something.”

“You mean something,” Adam says, and he stops. That’s not what he meant. “I mean, to me. And I did a bad job of showing you that today.” He grabs at Mox’s face and turns it to his own. “Mox. I love you, too.” He tries to remember how eye contact works. “I’m so bad at it and I want you to know I am going to try better – do better. I want you to know I love you right.”

Mox laughs. “I know,” he says, and leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to Adam’s lips. “I want you to take a shower.”

Adam wiggles his eyebrows. “Try’na get me outta my pants?”

“You’re already out of your pants, dumbass,” Mox says. “But, no. It’ll help you sober up. You don’t want to go to bed hammered.”

“Done it before,” Adam says, shrugging. “But beer’s different?”

Mox studies him. “You – you’ve been drunk before?”

Adam nods, and a voice in the back of his head tells him to stop. He ignores it. “Drink some beers in the shower sometimes. ‘sno big deal.”

“Hey,” Mox says, “we’re gonna talk about this in the morning. You don’t need to talk about it now, okay? We’re gonna get you cleaned up a little more and then go to bed.”

Adam nods, and, later, when he feels clean and soft and warm, he curls against Mox in the bed, and wishes this could last forever.

“Rise and shine, fuckhead.”

Adam wants to die. Just a little bit. “Why?”

“Gotta make sure you feel the hangover,” Mox says, and he sounds way too happy about it. “Vodka’s a bitch, baby.”

“So are you,” Adam grumbles, rolling over. “Let me sleep.”

“Later,” Mox says. “Drink the Gatorade.”

Adam blindly reaches out for it, and wraps his hand around a glass. “Thanks.” He sips slowly, and, to be fair, it does make his mouth feel better. “You mad at me?”

“A little,” Mox says, and Adam appreciates the honest. “You were pretty fucked up last night.”

Adam feels his face burn red. “Yeah. I – yeah. I really am sorry.” He forces himself to look at Mox. “You were amazing last night. I didn’t deserve it.” He fidgets with the Gatorade label. “You shouldn’t have wasted your time on me.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” Mox says. “I chose to help you, because you’re cute and funny and, most of the time, you take care of me the way I need it.” He smiles, but it quickly fades. “But last night you were kind of scary and I almost was ready to end it. So we need to talk about this.”

Adam forces himself not to squirm. He doesn’t want to talk about it. “Okay,” he says, against every instinct in his body.

“I told you last night, I love you,” Mox says, putting a hand on Adam’s where it rests on top of the blanket, “but I’m not willing to self-destruct for anybody else. I’ve tried that before.”

“Me too,” Adam says, with a sigh. “So – are you…” He swallows, taking a deep breath. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Mox startles. “What? No. I mean, not unless you aren’t willing to work on this.” He laces his fingers with Adam’s. “I said I’m not willing to self-destruct. That means I’m not going to be around somebody who’s going to party and drink all the time,” he stares Adam straight in the eye, “even if I love them. So I need you to – and I hate the way I have to say this – decide. Do you want to keep partying, or do you want to keep this up?” He won’t look at Adam now, his eyes down at their intertwined fingers. “I’m not going to beg you either way. I want you to decide for yourself.”

“You,” Adam says, immediately. “I – you, obviously. Come on.”

Mox raises an eyebrow. “That was fast.”

Adam shrugs. “If I’m being honest, I don’t exactly like the parties or anything.”

“What about those shower beers you mentioned last night?”

Adam gets hot all over, throws off the comforter, leans his back up against the wall. It makes his head pound, but he needs some space right now, from the world and from Mox. “I forgot I told you about that.”

“But ya did,” Mox says, patting his thigh. “And that’s part of it. You know that’s, like, a terrible coping mechanism, right? It’s called a maladaptive behavior.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “Not to be a dick, but is that something you learned on one of your cocaine fueled library escapades?”

“No,” Mox says, “that was afterwards, when I was in Psychology class last year. But, seriously, if you’re having issues, talk to your parents. Or to me. Or, hell, your guidance counselor.”

“Not my guidance counselor,” Adam insists, “I have Ms. Green.”

Mox wrinkles his nose. “Okay, not Green. But Mr. Pham or somebody.”

Adam considers it, and nods, almost automatically. “I know.”

Mox stares him down. “And if you do it again, and I find out, I’m telling your parents.”

“What?!”

“Jennifer loves me, what can I say?”

Adam falls back against the pillows, ignoring the headache. “Please don’t call my mom by her first name.”

“Oh, can I call Paul by his?”

“No!”

Head screaming, Adam grabs his dad’s old bike from the garage and he and Mox ride to pick up his car from Chris’ house. They manage to get in and out without consequence – it seems like the entire place is asleep.

“How early is it?” Adam grumbles. He pulls his phone from his pocket and glances down. “Oh. You woke me up at, like, seven on a Saturday morning.”

Mox shrugs. “I told you. I needed to make sure you felt the hangover.”

“I could leave you here to bike home,” Adam says, threat empty. “I could take off.”

Mox throws his bike up into the bed of the truck, then Adam’s. Like it’s nothing. Adam gets a little hot about it. Mox looks up at him grinning. “I really don’t think you could.”

#HangMox #Wrestling High School AU #in which Sara writes #wtf i like wrestling now???#SO MANY TAGS goddamnit #Hangman Adam Page #Jon Moxley #I'm tired

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