Taming McGregor

Wet Ink

Shockingly enough, Conor actually keeps his word. Of course there were a few subliminal posts here and there, but when Khabib finally agreed to get into the Octagon with Conor, the Irish man was ecstatic and couldn't wait to start training for it. I was actually impressed in his surprising show of restraint, so if he went off the walls during press week I wouldn't hold it against him. That was honestly the most stress-free week I've ever had working with Conor. Ever. He fixed my office door and honestly couldn't remember how he broke it in the first place. I also found a deposit in my account about six figures over my paycheck.

I was living good, but he knew he was on thin ice. Kofi and I met up for that date and we discussed a few things.

"So how do you feel about moving in together?"

I desperately wanted to avoid that question because like I told him, I'm barely home as it is. I'm always traveling with Conor, promoting his fights and keeping him in line with his lawyers and things. They all say I'm the only one that can really keep him in check. I didn't want him living alone in a place with my name on it, but deep down I just didn't want to disappoint him.

I knew living with Kofi had certain expectations: you'd see them way more often than you used to, you'd see them in a more personal and comfortable environment, you could get to know someone on a deeper level just by being in their presence or even observing their home. I consider the home a projection of your mind. What if I was too much of a mess for him? We've been together for years but have never lived together- what if I wasn't all he thought I was? Him living with me meant making up for dates we missed due to distance, time or other things in our personal lives and most nights I just wanted to sleep. I didn't want to disappoint Kofi after all these years. He actually meant a lot to me.

I was currently at home, Kofi back in Atlanta for the time being and Conor was in my kitchen. For what reason, I'm not sure. I just ignored him in favor of answering some emails related to the upcoming fight. However I knew that if I left Conor alone for too long, I ended up regretting it.

"What are you doing?" I asked suddenly and I heard a small ruckus before he slid (literally slid in socks) into my living room with two cups in his hand.

"I noticed I never made coffee before. I wanted to try it out." He hands me a hot mug that I accept graciously. I mean anybody can make coffee so it wasn't a—

"Conor, what the hell is this?"

"Coffee?" He was sheepish.

"No, this is shit."

He narrowed his eyes, "Rude much?"

I laughed, "How the hell can you not make coffee? And my machine is a Keurig, so it's basically already coffee! How-" I placed the cup on the coffee table and headed towards the kitchen because I just had to see what happened. Conor followed closely, and I stopped when I saw a bunch of fridge magnet letters.

'I'm Sorry 4 Making U Bitter'

"Oh my God, you're an idiot." I rolled my eyes. "Did you purposely fuck up the coffee?"

Conor cheesed, "It's actually cocoa powder and water."

"I hate you." He cackled as he sipped some out of his cup. "Ugh, you're drinking that?"

"I didn't say mine was cocoa powder and water." He actually laughed louder, strategically placing the cup down because he knew I was going to chase him. I wanted to wring his neck and he knew it. We get stuck on opposite sides of the couch, both of us faking a move in either direction and when he least expects it I jump over the couch and successfully tackle him. He landed with a grunt but heartily laughed at the situation. I was on top of him, playfully slapping his chest and face while he covered up.

"You don't fuck with people's coffee man!" Of course I was dealing with a fighter that was used to being on his back (at least in training), so I was quickly flipped over, our positions switched. Conor was now on top of me- between my legs as well but he was still goofing around. I knew I was overthinking things, especially since I wasn't laughing when he started to tickle me. That's how deep I was in my head!

"Ares? You alright?" His hands were now on my waist, he was on top of me, in between my legs. That smile was gone and recognition started to fill his eyes as he finally took notice of what was happening. "Oh." All of this and yet he didn't move. I just blinked up at him, for some reason unable to verbally express that I'd like some space. "I know this is weird and I'm gonna make it worse, but..." He looks away, "you feel... you feel..." and the rest is mumbled.

"W-What?" It shocked me how raspy my voice was.

"You feel good... under me. It feels right. I don't know, ok? You're just- I don't know."

"Neither do I." We stayed in that tense silence afterward, none of us moving. We were just locked in a stare, listening to each other's breathing when Conor's eyes lowered and I just knew he was looking at my lips by then. Why couldn't I move though? Was it that I couldn't move? Or maybe I didn't want to?

No. No, no, no, now he's leaning down and his hips have adjusted so he could get more comfortable which meant pressure in places he can't pleasure and I couldn't do that. I can't do this. Not to Kofi. I can't.

I can't.

I can't...

"Can I kiss you? Just once?" He was breathless, his question basically spoken to my lips from how close he leaned down towards me.

"Conor, we can't."

"I know," He bites his own lip, "but fuck if I haven't thought about seeing you like this." Oh no. "You're so fucking sexy, you know that? Whenever you snap at me, I just want to bend you over and fuck the anger out of you." No, no. No! Nope! I can't do this. I have to get up. Get up! "I know you said we can't already, but I also know he isn't giving it to you the way you want it."

"Conor-"

"You deserve to be worshipped. Every single day. I'd give it to you whenever you called for it. He doesn't have to know." And somehow I get the strength to climb out of the rabbit hole, pushing Conor off of me and sliding out of his hold.

"What's gotten into you?" That was the best I could do, ok? You try having your boss of several years make sexual passes at you out of nowhere!

"I'm tired of watching you make some dumb long distance relationship work, especially since I've been here." He's still where I left him, just postured up on his knees. "Kofi's a cool guy, but he doesn't have the same passion we have. The chemistry we've always had. I know you've felt it."

Well, he isn't lying.

"I have." I can't deny that, "I've felt it but I'm in a relationship Conor, and I know it's gonna sound insensitive but because I've been in a relationship, I only saw you as a friend."

"Saw?"

"See, Conor. I'm still with Kofi and this won't change that." He frowned, partially hurt about my decision but still had understanding about it all.

"I get it." He sighs, "I don't know where it all came from. I just, saw you like that, looking up at me with those brown eyes and it felt like a dream again." He's had dreams about me? I don't trust my legs to stand, partially upset with myself for letting Conor go that far in the first place. Now how were we supposed to go back to normal? How am I supposed to act now, knowing that Conor wants me?

I guess that's a bridge we'll cross when we get there.

"Now, get up! I got a meeting with Dana about the upcoming fight." Gone was Conor's smoldering looks and back was his childish happiness, almost as if he didn't just shoot his shot. The figurative whiplash makes me question everything that just happened. He's standing and holds out a hand to me which I take to stand myself.

"I'm gonna go shower," I pointed my thumb behind me.

"You go do that," Conor laughs, plopping on my couch and turning on the TV. All I could think about going back to my room was: what the hell am I going to do?
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an update???? yes