Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8703688.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      World_Wrestling_Entertainment
  Relationship:
      Chris_Jericho/A.J._Styles
  Character:
      Chris_Jericho, A.J._Styles
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-30 Words: 4114
****** Watery Daydreams. ******
by MisfitMadness
Summary
     Chris Jericho's wet daydream in the shower after Survivor Series.
The faucet hissed, spraying down a rain of hot water that bathed every patch of
exposed, naked flesh. Chris Jericho moaned and tossed his head back, enjoying
the feel of the water trickling down the column of his neck, slowly winding
its's way down his body.
He let the water wash over him this way for a moment then rested both of his
hands before him on the wall, bowing his head to allow the shower to hit the
back of his scalp, soaking it to him.
He was one of the only wrestlers left in the whole building and he had wanted
it that way, wanted to wait until he was alone before taking his shower. It
wasn't that he had any qualms with the other men watching him bathe, hell,
they'd all seen him naked before and he had seen them all naked before but
there was something about having the whole shower to yourself after a strenuous
day of wrestling that was just bliss.
Now, truthfully, he could have gone to his hotel room after his spot and taken
a shower there all alone no problem but he had wanted the power of the locker
room's shower, the force with which it pumped out the water much more
pleasurable. It was pulsing perfectly with just the right amount of pressure to
make him feel not only that he was getting a good cleaning but also a deep body
massage.
He slowly worked the soap over his body, building up a good lather. He enjoyed
watching the steam gather up and cloud together, swirling about his body. He
closed his eyes and gave himself up entirely to listening to the sound of the
water falling. The whole area was quiet. No one was laughing or talking or
horsing around. He was all alone.
It was nice sometimes to wallow in the quiet, to pick up on things he wouldn't
normally hear. The sound of the air rushing past his ear, his blood pounding in
his ears, the beat of his heart. A lot of the time he was drowned out in noise-
the noise of the fans, the noise of his theme music as he came to the ring, the
noise of the others. The silence was a welcome change. He thought about his
match that evening. It had been against AJ Styles and the other SmackDown
talent.
Thinking of Styles made him frustrated in more ways than one. It wasn’t even
that he didn’t like the young southerner, despite him. He’d rather leave those
feelings up to those who deserved it, who had done far worse to be put on his
list. Guys like Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins but AJ, AJ was different...
All the fans, the stupid, stupid fans thought Jericho was jealous of AJ, that
he envied him for all of their support and wanted to defeat him to prove that
he is better. And yeah, that was true, that was there. But there was something
else there too. Something else much more important. He had even, in a moment of
tenderness, tried to express to the stupid fans what it once meant to him.
As usual they were too busy booing him and chanting things to really listen, to
even try and understand. AJ Styles for a long time had been one of Jericho’s
favorites for several years, his inspiration. He was why Jericho had returned
to the company. He was a man that he looked up to, a man he admired and more
importantly...
Jericho sighed, and felt his head fall forward, resting on the wet tile before
him as he felt crushed under the weight of his own thoughts. AJ Styles was a
man that Jericho had spent a lot of time lusting after.
Not many people knew that Jericho was bisexual. In fact, currently only Kevin
Owens knew out of all the active wrestlers. He’d been great about the whole
thing, in fact, he’d been bizarrely curious, asking Chris all sorts of
questions about it but he’d been pretty tight lipped. Frankly he’d only been
with two men in his life and while both experiences had been enjoyable neither
had lasted nor been anything to write home about.
But Jericho always felt it would be different if he could just get Styles.
The younger man had been his fantasy for years. His wet dream, his desire. He
was almost as bad as those hysterically screaming girls when it came to the
phenomenal prince. He practically panted every time he ran across him.
He was surprised the fans had never noticed. Sure, he tried to mask it with
anger and hatred but anyone looking hard enough would see that really he was
shaken, eager, and oh so hungry.
Every time AJ got in his face Chris wanted to just close the gap between them.
Press his mouth to his, kiss him, tangle his fingers in his long hair. A moan
rose out of his throat as he suddenly felt his member spring to life at the
idea.
He groaned and slowly let his hand wander down to take hold of himself, he
looked around yet again and yet again there was not a soul in sight. Well...he
wasalone.
Slowly he began to pump his hand, letting the hardened length slide between his
slick fingertips, another low groan rumbling out of him. He leaned closer to
the tile again, letting his imagination take over. It had been too long since
he’d done this and thought about Styles while doing so.
Lately he’d been so busy that his one handed sessions had been reduced to a few
quick jerks. Finishing it quickly so that when it was over he was left sort of
refreshed and relieved. After all, there was only so long a guy could go
without some sort of sexual activity, even if it was self-service.
But every now and then, when he had time, he let a little daydream wander into
his brain to entertain him, get him more excited. A lot of the times the
fantasy in his mind was so hot that when he finally reached his climax it was
so much sweeter. Another thing not too many people knew about him-he had a
great imagination.
So right now he decided to indulge in that part of himself, give himself up to
a lusty dream. He imagined what it would be like if it was just him and AJ in
the ring during Survivor Series with no fans, no cameras, no one else, just
them. They’d be shirtless, in their normal ring attire, skin-hugging tights and
all. Chris with his hair spiked up and AJ with it pulled back, showing off
those gorgeous blue eyes, that smirk that drove so many girls crazy on his
face.
Chris got so turned on when he saw that smirk. It made him so hard and he could
see himself in his mind’s eye. He would walk over to that man, with his amazing
tattooed body and just wrap his arms around his waist, tugging him over. AJ
might struggle at first, mumble protests but eventually he’d melt into Chris’s
embrace, allowing Chris to hold him close.
Chris would run his fingers along his hair, pull down that string that held it
back in its ponytail to release it into his greedy hands. He’d comb it, rake
his fingers through each perfect strand and the smell of his shampoo would
float up to fill his senses.
Then he’d pull him back just enough to look into his face, to get lost in those
beautiful blue eyes once again, that tan, strong face and those perfect lips.
Then he’d lower his head and kiss him, feel a completeness he wasn't even aware
existed. AJ would kiss him back too, no hesitation, just the hunger, the
passion. And it would grow between them, spiraling out of control.
Jericho could almost feel Styles's hands fluttering all over his body, touching
him every where, groping blindly and yet with such ferocity that Jericho would
be moaning in his grip. Jericho smiled to himself at this change in his
fantasy. Yes, it would be much more fun tonight if Styles were the more
dominant of the two.
He could see Styles pushing him back against a corner of the ring, pressing a
strong knee between his legs, making sure to rub it along the growing bulge in
Jericho's tights. He'd ease forward then, as if pinning him, but really he
would be taking fistful of his short hair, capturing his mouth in another bone
melting kiss.
It’d be so hot, so searing and their chests would rub against each other, the
friction wonderful. God, he'd go crazy for the feel of that chest hair abrading
his flesh, making him shiver in delight. Then AJ would go lower, kissing his
body, sucking his nipples but winding downward, downward ever closer to his
destination, ever close to Chris's need…
A particularly salacious sound burst from Jericho's lips, forming a sob as his
hand picked up its' pace. God, this daydream was so fucking hot! So fucking
good. He was unbearably hard now and he wanted to just finish up but at the
same token he wanted to finish the dream, to know what would happen next.
It had been a while since he'd imagined Styles like this and frankly he thought
he might have imagination ring rust but instead he found himself doing a pretty
good job, considering how well it was getting him off.
He couldn't recall the last time his jerking off had been this powerful, this
explosive since when he was a teenager. The trick was Styles, he was more
than positive of that. Every time he envisioned that young man, envisioned the
things they could do to each other... it almost made him cream his pants in
general.
In this situation it was just all the more unbearable. He let out a breath and
continued the fantasy. So there would be Styles, slowly lowering himself to his
knees. He'd look up at Jericho, his breath wafting over the aching need in his
pants, and whisper; "You want me to suck you off?"
Chris could only manage a strangle groan and a nod, eager for the feeling of
AJ's mouth on him. AJ would chuckle, probably torturing him a bit, running his
hands up along Jericho's legs, fingers tickling his inner thighs as he'd
murmur, "You didn't say please."
"Please, AJ, please," Chris would choke out.
AJ would look at him with such intensity that Chris would feel a swift stab of
arousal deep inside. Watching with awe and hunger as AJ would take hold of his
tights and peel them down and off, leaving him naked and exposed, his length
standing out proudly.
AJ would sigh and take that mouth of his, that sculpted mouth that seemed made
for this, and he'd take in Chris's entire length. Jericho would cry out in
rapture at the feel of AJ’s mouth around him, lost in ecstasy as AJ would begin
to taste him, his silken tongue running up and down the sides like flames
licking at a candle wick.
Chris’s hands would become entangled in AJ’s hair, his voice a mere sob as he’d
fall back against the ring post for support, hardly able to stand as Styles
devoured him. His head would toss from side to side, voice reed thin as he came
closer. “AJ, I can’t...don’t want to in your.”
“Do it. Let me drink you, baby.” Styles would whisper huskily. Just hearing his
voice, what he had just said, would cause a keening cry to escape Chris, the
eroticism of the moment hitting a whole new peak. Then he'd feel AJ's fingers
gently playing with his balls, then seeking out his entrance, testing it
slightly, teasing before taking a gentle probe inside.
The dream Chris and the real Chris cried out in pleasure, both coming to
climax, the feeling indescribable. Chris could feel himself thrusting into his
hand like mad, his back arching, muscles spasming with such pleasure he felt
he'd die. It was amazing as the torrent of convulsions wracked over and over
him without any seeming end in sight.
Chris eventually slumped against the cool tile of the shower, his body still
reeling. The shower water continued to beat down on him, washing away all
evidence and feeling. Slowly he tried to regain his breath. God, it really had
been a long time since he'd done that. Normally he could drag it out for much
longer, he hadn't even gotten to imagine him and AJ fucking yet. That image was
always nice and particularly hot.
But then, imaging them together in the ring the way he had in general was not
his normal specialty. No, there were many different variations of his fantasies
involving the stud. Some involved handcuffs while others were sweet, slower in
candle lit rooms. It really depended on his mood.
Tonight’s had probably been rushed since it’d been so long. Jericho shrugged at
the idea, finding it to be reasonable when he heard a noise behind him. He
turned swiftly, red faced and horrified at the realization that someone else
was there. The feelings only quadrupled when he saw who it was that had been
watching.
None other than the man who’d been in his fantasy, the champ that runs the
camp.
Styles had accidentally knocked something over, causing the noise that had
caught Jericho’s attention. He was about just as red faced as the older man,
commenting lamely. “I...forgot my gym bag.”
Jericho swallowed and turned away, humiliated. He snapped out tartly. “Then why
don’t you get it and go, ‘stead of watching me, you pervert.”
Jericho didn’t hear anything and turned his head, wondering if Styles had left
but the younger man still stood there, wide eyed, his adam’s apple working.
Jericho scowled, he was so embarrassed and that embarrassment was making him
feel almost hysterical, close to tears. He tried to gear it into anger, hoping
to frighten Styles off as he yelled, "WHAT are you still doing here?! Get the
hell out!"
Styles didn’t answer, instead he said softly. “I didn’t mean to walk in on
you... but... when I was getting my bag I-I heard someone say my name.”
He hadn’t thought it was impossible, but Jericho’s eyes widened even further,
his skin even more aflame. He tried to recall having said Styles’s name aloud.
It was impossible, sometimes he got so lost in his daydreams, and lord knew
he’d been whimpering the southern's name enough in the dream.
“And the way they said it and...um...I-I guess I was curious, you know, I mean,
about which one of the guy’s...”
Jericho cut off Styles’s ramble. “All right, I’m bisexual! You happy?! I dig
guys! I’m a fucking faggot! Feel free to tell everyone and ostracize me,
Styles, alright, just get the fuck out and leave me alone!”
The first few hot tears escape and Jericho cursed again, turning away from the
southern once more. This was horrible. How could some simple masturbation lead
to this? Now he’d made a fool of himself in front of him and it was only a
matter of time before everyone knew about his sexual preferences if Gallows and
Anderson find out. He could already see certain wrestlers making his life a
living hell for it.
And what if the fans found out? And what if...
Jericho was so lost in his thoughts he bearly heard Styles’s footsteps first
retreating, then returning, coming closer, tapping out of the wet tile.
Jericho’s eyes squeezed shut tightly and he prepared to turn again, prepared to
really chew Styles out when instead of merely coming face to face with Styles
he found the younger man’s mouth on his.
A startled sound escaped his throat allowing his mouth to open, giving Styles
easy access. The Georgia native slipped his tongue between his teeth, rubbing
it lazily along the roof of his mouth, massaging his own tongue. Jericho at
first was too startled to react, then gave in, kissing Styles back with a moan
of utter bliss.
Styles set something off to the side, Jericho could hear it but he couldn’t see
whatever it was, his eyes still closed. Too afraid to open them, to not see
Styles there, to discover this was all a dream. He eventually risked this fear
though, as Styles drew away. Jericho's blue eyes fluttered open and he saw
Styles standing there in front of him, his eyes burning hot with..oh god, could
it be?... hunger.
Styles’s clothes were getting wet, soaked and he gave Jericho that world famous
cocky smirk as he reached down and grabbed the hem of his shirt, peeling it
over his head. Jericho’s nostrils flared as he looked at Styles’s bare chest,
watched as it began to glisten wet from the pouring shower head. He opened his
mouth, his voice low. “Why?”
“Always knew there had to be a reason for that fire in your eyes, man.” Styles
returned, “And when we were staring each other down in the ring you always got
a little too close for comfort. More so than most folks. Surprised the fans
never caught it. The way you’d look at my mouth sometimes, the way you’d press
our bodies together in the ring. The way you’d let yourself breathe on me. I’ll
be honest, it made me hot as hell, but couldn’t be sure...now I am.”
“But you’re not...”
“What? You gotta be kidding! And you claim to be my biggest fan,” Styles
chuckled. “Don’t you remember me and Christian when we were in Coalition? Or
how about me and Kenny Omega? I’ve been known to play for the same team more
than once if you catch my drift."
“B-But I was so horrible to you. I mean, how can you now want...I mean, I never
thought you’d want...”
“That’s your mistake, Chris,” Styles murmured and raised a hand up, stroking
Jericho’s bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “You assume too much. Sure, me
and you have our differences but, I can let it roll off my back when I see
something I want. Yanno?”
Jericho was about to protest again when Styles growled. “No more talk. I know
you want this and you know I want it..so now we’re gonna have it.”
His mouth sealed over Jericho’s again and Jericho gave up, more than eager to
simply falling into a kiss. He thought for a moment of how just earlier he had
decided to make Styles the more dominant one in his fantasy. Who knew that it
would also be so true in life.
Styles's chest was, like in the dream, rubbing at his own chest with a
delicious friction but, oh god, how it was so much sweeter in real life.
Jericho was almost surprised to feel himself growing hard again. Lord, he had
just finished jerking off! But then, who knew Styles would show up and
do…well…all of this.
Styles was so vicious too, his hands and mouth everywhere, his teeth clamping
on Jericho's earlobe, causing a hiss to escape. There were fingers plucking at
his nipples, dipping into hollows and curves on his body, running down his
stomach, through his hair, down to his legs, over his thighs then between them,
brushing and touching and capturing his…oh.
"Yes, yes, like that," Jericho gasped, bucking beneath the younger man's
ministrations.
"You're so fucking hot, Chris, do you even know what you do to me?" Styles
whispered against his mouth, capturing his lips for another kiss, their tongues
dueling for dominance.
Thus far Jericho's hands had been clumsy and all over, zealous in his need to
touch Styles everywhere, to imprint this moment in his memories forever. He had
finally settled on Styles's shoulders, kneading them fervently as they kissed.
Styles pulled away his lips again, taking hold of one of Jericho's hands and
resting it down on the center of his jeans, making sure Jericho could feel his
erection as he responded throatily, "This is what you do to me, Chris, do you
feel it?"
"I do," Jericho hissed and tightened his grip, massaging the man through the
material of his pants, causing him to let out incoherent sounds of delight,
"And I like it."
"Fuck, yeah, keep doing that, grab it," Styles gasped against Jericho throat,
sucking and biting at flesh he found there. For a few minutes the only sounds
in the room were that of the rushing shower water and the panting of two horny
men, their bodies rubbing up against each other ardently, as if trying to make
a fire.
Eventually Styles's pants were worked off and Jericho's arms and legs were
locked around Styles's waist, his back up against the tile. Styles reached out
to one side and Jericho finally discovered what it was that he had brought over
earlier, relieved to see the plastic tube he hadn't even given one thought to
since they started. Funny, considering how vital it was.
Styles squeezed a nice liberal amount on his hands, making sure his fingers
were nice and slick before reaching up and working them over Jericho's puckered
hole. Jericho was hysterical at this point, rocking at every single stimulation
he received. He felt Styles's fingers ease their way inside then curl, causing
a white bolt of pleasure to shoot before Jericho's eyes, blinding him.
"Don't-can't…you have to…" Jericho rambled, unable to speak clearly. He knew if
Styles did that just one more time he'd come and thank him for it, but he
wanted them to do this together. He pushed his hips downwards, indicating what
he wanted and Styles had the audacity to smirk at Jericho's obvious
desperation.
He coated his erection swiftly before working himself inside Jericho. He was
slightly afraid he'd be too big or the older man would back out but he was
pleased to see Jericho take it like a pro. He let out a few gasps of
discomforted pain but then he was silent, wiggling about, ready for more.
Styles wasn't sure he was ready himself, however, too lost in the nice heat and
tightness that Jericho provided. Still, he began to slowly move and both men
let out deep-throated grunts of approval.
It was a bit awkward at first, Jericho's body needing to be titled slightly for
them to fit together and then the strain of holding him up of course but soon
enough they staked out a rhythm that had them both crying out in pleasure.
"Harder! Faster! More, more, more!" Jericho whimpered, pumping up and down on
Styles's length.
Styles gritted his teeth, accommodating him., pounding away like mad. He angled
his next thrust, making it deeper and began to climax with a shout, losing
himself inside.
Feeling Styles let go, watching him, was more than Jericho could take and he
followed suit, his own member once again clutched between his hand. When next
he opened his eyes, Jericho found that both he and Styles had slumped to the
floor of the showers, still wrapped tightly together but much more satisfied.
Styles slowly drew away and gave Jericho and sleepy smile, "Good thing we're
taking a shower, huh?"
Jericho laughed weakly, suddenly feeling the water that had been belting down
on the for the first time in what felt like hours. Once again it washed away
all evidence and Styles slowly rose to his feet, holding out a hand for Jericho
who took it.
Once both men were on their feet they looked at each other in silence.
Jericho spoke first, "So…where do we go from here?"
Styles grinned, "I don't know, but I hope we do it together."
A blush took over Jericho's cheeks, "You mean, you still want to...”
"I don't just sleep and run, despite what you may have heard about me."
"But I thought…I mean…the things I did to you…"
"Told you, I don't care. Care more about getting more of what just happened.
That was some pretty mind blowing sex, I don't know about you, but me, it's
never been like that. And what's more, I was in serious need of it too."
Jericho chuckled, "Oh yeah?"
"Mhmm, but you, well, I know you were already somewhat satisfied," Styles
teased.
Another blush, "Yeah."
"So, you were thinking about me during that, huh?"
"Yeah, yeah, I was."
"How was I?"
"Good, but real life is much better than any wet daydream," Jericho confirmed.
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