broken

I

The lights were dim and the audience was quiet. He was growing tired and was out of breath. He was drifting off and he knew it. He had punches coming at him but he could hardly see them. Only blurs in his vision. Then the pain struck, the throbbing pain in his face as he was hit repeatedly. The pain didn't last long, his adrenaline kicking in and numbing the throbbing.

He could taste the blood in his mouth, the thick warm blood as it oozed from his gums. The irony, bitter taste on his tongue. He spit it out and threw a right hook back. It was weak but effective. Hitting his opponent in the jaw. A crack rang through his ears, right before he was hit again. This time, in his left shoulder. He stumbled back, putting his gloved hand up to the sore spot.

He wanted to stop. He knew he couldn't take much more of this. But he needed to fight, he relayed on it. It was all he had left.

He needed to prove himself, prove to everyone he wasn't nothing. He needed to show them he was more than what they ever expected. He wasn't what they told him and he was going to prove it. He would die if he had to.

He had no money, no reputation. He had no hope.

He took a deep breath, taking a second to think. He didn't have time to think. Shit. He focused on his target, hardly a blur in his fucked vision. He stood with his hand at his jaw, waiting for the right moment. Waiting for his opportunity to strike.

He needed to move fast, his body was starting to shut down. At that moment, he saw the flash of a fist coming toward him. Quickly, he dodged it and hit back. He hit back hard.

He used all the energy he had left. Every last breath.

All he had was this fight.

He punched so hard, he ended the fight in a single blow. His opponent fell to the ground with a thud. The blur of a body, stayed laying on the floor as a group of people rushed to it. He watched as they tried to pick the other man up, taking him away.

He turned to a hand on his shoulder. Catching the blurry shape of a face. "You're one crazy mother fucker." They said laughing with their words. The voice belonged to Johnny. "That was one crazy fight. Here, let's get you cleaned up for the results."

Johnny grabbed his shoulder and pulled him along. He sat down on the stool in the corner of the ring while Johnny applied something to his swollen eye. It stung and he leaned back to get away. Johnny laughed again, mumbling something along the lines of 'pussy' and applied more.

Once that was done, Johnny helped him take off his gloves and gave him a hoodie to wear. By the time they finished, it was time to announce the winner. Johnny helped him to the center of the ring, then took his spot behind him.

The referee took his hand and began to speak. The referee's voice boomed through the room, ringing through his ears. "The winner by knockout is... Jung Jaehyun!"

—–

The night was dark, rain dripped down the tiny window. The vibrant colours of the neon signs provided the only light to the room. It was hot and the air was thick. It was hard to breathe, you gasped for every breath.

You tired to rethink how you ended up here, but couldn't remember. Honestly, you didn't care. You were too caught up in the moment, that all you wanted was this. You had your eyes closed, your hands digging into the sheets, gripping them tight.

Your heavy breaths were the only sound that filled the room. You arched your back, gasping for air as he went down on you. His tongue circling your clit, making you want to scream out. You bit down on your lip, trying to hold your self together, to no avail. "Fuck," you breathed, as he started to suck on your wetness.