“Is that true, Tommy?” Kira asks nervously, and I pet her delicate fingers where they’re curled around the rope. I want to comfort her, but I’m not in the right headspace. I’m a hot mess. And this isn’t helping. I wanted a good, clean fight, but I’m becoming a spectacle.
I’m getting antsy with everyone looking at me. Young-gi is walking closer, and I swallow hard. There is too much, too much going on, too much movement and sound. I was already on the edge today, and this is all just making it worse.
I shake my head, then nod, forgetting what she asked me already; the familiar feeling of disassociation makes everything seem far away. Everyone and everything suddenly feels like it’s at a much safer distance, but it leaves me feeling unmoored and anxious.
I take a deep breath, and bite the bullet. “I don’t think I want to fight anymore.”
Kira nods at me encouragingly, but behind me where everyone is staring, there’s a surprised pause, and then Brian laughs, harsh and annoyed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“I’ll be on Tommy’s team.” Young-gi’s proclamation knocks me into another dimension where I don’t know English anymore, because that’s not what he just said, is it?
I blink, uncomprehending, and eventually blurt a belated, “Huh?”
“To make it more fair,” he explains, pulling off his shirt. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on them.”
Holy fucking shit.I should be insisting that I really don’t want to fight anymore, that it was a joke, that I’m tired, that I’m suddenly very ill with something terminal, maybe I should pretend to pass out but goddamn… I can’t even talk. Young-gi shirtless is like… holy shit. He’s so…he’s so…hot.
And suddenly I’m righthere.Right back in my body, achingly present and aware of every millimeter of skin and how close everyone is and how crowded I feel and how physical Young-gi’s stare is. Disassociation can’t stand up to the power of his presence. It’s like my mind wouldn’t dare look away when he’s this close and this half-naked.
Which leaves me here, achingly aware, overstimulated, and pissed off.
He climbs up and over the ropes casually, joining me as if this is no big deal when, in fact, it’s a very big fucking deal and I’m probably in a coma or something. I’m still crouched by Kira, in shock. He looks down at me, that dark stare inscrutable, so I turn away, too quick for either of us to get a good look at each other’s eyes. I know I shouldn’t, but I let my gaze slide down his frame and goddamn.
I’m at just the right height to…
My mouth waters, because of fucking course it does. I wanna suck him off so bad.
I stand on my feet quickly, a little dizzy. Luckily, no one seems to notice my slip up and the way I was eye fucking the uncle of my girlfriend. Instead of paying attention to me, everyone is listening to him while Young-gi commands the room; making Gregory go get him some gloves, making Leonard set up a timer on the blank analog display that rests on one of the corner posts, making Brian pay attention to a speech about rules and ‘no punches to the face’ bullshit. But I’m just standing there, speechless.
I look down at Kira for some help, but Lexie is pulling her away while cackling at me wickedly. “Have fun with Mr. Sokolov, Tommy!” she calls, knowing exactly how I feel about Young-gi’s smoking hot body.
Janessa is huddling with two other girls and the guy that’s filming, and I catch her trying to send me some kind of message with her eyes but I’m way too fucking high strung to understand what she wants right now so I just turn my back on her to try and get my head in the game.
The timer is set to three minutes, flashing red and ready to start. Brian grabs the brothers and huddles them in a corner, scowling and looking like he’s about to take this way more fucking seriously than before Young-gi showed up.
Shame. I was looking forward to punching his face while he had that stupid smirk on it. I’ll have to settle for punching his scowl.
A glove taps my shoulder and I tense. Looking at Young-gi only as much as minimally possible to indicate that I’m listening to him, I grunt in acknowledgment. I can’t help it. I’m tongue-tied. He leads me to the opposite corner, and we have a huddle-up just like our opponents are.
“We’re not going for the face,” Young-gi says sternly but quietly, so we aren’t overheard. That gets my attention and I tense, scowling at the floor. Yeah, I’d heard him say that toBrian, but I wasn’t going to listen. He stares at my face, because I’m not looking at him, and he’s just so, just so fucking calm and in charge. He’s staring at me like he knows he’ll get his way. He’s just waiting me out.
“Fine.”Why do I always end up pouting when he’s around?
“Let me take on two of them, you can have one,” Young-gi instructs. “With your back injured, you’ll need to focus on one opponent. We can’t let anyone get behind you.”
The fuck?Why would he care? It’s a bruise, not a bullet wound.
Whatever.“I want Brian.”
“Brian is mine.” Young-gi’s voice is so placid I almost don’t react to his statement. I almost just nod along before the mental record scratch stops me.
“Wait, why? I want Brian.”See? Pouting! Get that lower lip under control,I tell myself.Get that whiny voice back down to a regular octave.
Again, Young-gi doesn’t bother repeating himself. He just stares at me. I try to stand firm, because I’m really serious about this, but I end up fidgeting and gritting out another too-pouty “fine.”
“You can have the smaller one,” Young-gi allows. “The brunette. It will be easier for you that way–you’re in his weight class.”
Aaaaand that’s about enough of that. I’ve hit my tolerance for taking his high-handedness lying down. He’s ruining the whole fight.
