Knockout • OT4

4 - Sadistic

Michael was in hell.

Downright Hell.

He ended up calling Luke blondie that same day when it was his turn to train with Michael.

Michaels sure his face is no longer symmetrical.

He was the definition of 'you should see the other guy.' Was he embarrassed? He didn't have the energy to be embarrassed. His body aches and he was sure he spat out more blood than he would willingly donate.

But the other three were impressed.

Though Michael and his atrocious attitude got on their nerves significantly, he withstood some serious beatings and still walked out with his head held high.

Well, as high as he could hold it.

He was good on his feet, they noticed. Though his punches were a bit off, slow, and even sloppy, he threw some good hits and managed to block some heavy ones put onto him.

That was something as entertaining to them as a tv show was for children.

Something also incredibly entertaining?

The blood on his pretty face.

Michael was pretty scuffed up after a day of 'training'. His lips were red and swollen, dried blood smothered around them, on them, and even on his nose and chin.

His once porcelain skin was heavily bruised and his cheek cut right along the bone. His face was a bloodied mess, as were his untapped hands and other various spots on his body.

It was a fucking mesmerizing sight.

As the three of the most promising fighters stood and watched their play thing walk off, they couldn't help but feel excited.

Feel a certain rush of adrenaline they haven't felt in a long time.

"He's got a pretty mouth, s'a shame he isn't putting it to good use." muttered Calum, arms crossed over his broad chest as they usually were. His fingers were curled over his biceps, leaving the bruised and cut knuckles on display.

"Talks back like he doesn't fear death." Ashton joked. A quirk of the lip could've been seen on Luke before his face went back to its typical stoic expression.

Luke never cared for emotions, for being emotional and getting involved in more than just the logical side of things.

He came across a dick, and it made him one hell of a fighter.

The no-strings-attached outlook on life.

Well, life not including the two men he was standing with.

Luke scoffed and shook his head, fists clenching and unclenching beside him. "Called me blondie.. fuckin' blondie." he muttered lowly. Now it was Calums turn to chuckle under his breath.

He knew how in control their blonde fighter liked the be, he knew how respect is important to him. Watching Michael get his ass served to him for breaking Luke's most important morals was a very pretty treat.

"We went easy on him, he deserved worse."

The brunette hummed at the blondes remark, mind swarming with ideas with how they could push Michael farther, deeper.

He wanted to watch him cry.

"Though.. he's quite pretty when he isn't talking. The blood on those pretty lips? Fuck. To die for." The oldest man muttered, watching the youngest fighter grab his bag from across the room.