The morning after the fights the shitty underground ring is famous for, it was officially Michaels first day back at the gym.
He wasn't expecting a banner and balloons by any means, more like glares and those patronizing smirks he's grown so used to.
Especially from Calum.
They both felt it, the tension and the realization at the end of the older man's fight that night. It's like everything was revealed, a bandage ripped off a barely healed wound.
Calum saw the absolute horror flood on the pretty boys eyes, watching his already small frame shrink further in itself as the crowds cheers only boomed louder within the gyms walls.
If you asked Calum, it was an incredibly memorable night.
The bite marks and hickeys on his neck.. on all three of their necks proved it to be so.
In simpler terms, Luke definitely kept his promise if Calum was to win that night, but not under his terms. Sure, the blonde was riding all high and mighty on his stride of dominance that day, subtly guaranteeing a good fucking back at home with Calums face buried in the mattress.
But Luke knew that the second his winner walked off that ring, he was going to be the one with his face buried deep into the mattress.
Both him and Ashton. Calum made sure to take care of them both just as they did him in return.
Which brings them here, now, training with the few punching bags that were still in working order. Luke was kicking at the bag one way which then he'd pivot his body to kick at it backwards. It was a good exercise to build strength in his legs but to increase his balance and flexibility of the major joints.
Ashton was using the punching bag for just that, punching.
Each blow he delivered shook the heavy sack violently. His muscles strained against his black tank top as the veins in his arms bulged. Every hit just got more progressively violent.
Calum on the other hand, was trying to take a more clever approach by strength training today. He didn't exactly come out of the fight unscathed. Even the best fighters know to let their opponents get a few good hits on them, to boost their confidence before it comes crashing down along with their limp bodies on the hard mats.
He was lifting heavy weights as he laid back against a bench, arms shaking with the increasing overload of each rep. He knew he'd feel it tomorrow, but at least he'd get stronger for whenever the gym would book his next fight.
Michael however, was hiding in the locker rooms.
He managed to slide in unnoticed by the other three as he began to change. He figured leaving his sweatpants on to cover the gauze and bandages on his progressively healing wounds would be.. beneficial to say the least.
Training in black sweats and a long sleeved, dark red, fitted muscle shirt wasn't that out of norm.
Right?
He paced back and fourth as he tried to gain the confidence to go back into the gym. The week he took off was traitorous but still necessary. Now, he could train with his head on straight for the most part.
What he gained was minimal to what he lost however.
He lost the confidence to go back in that gym with his head held high, with the willingness to finally beat one of the three before they'd flip that idea on its ass along with Michael being sent face first into the hard mats.
He's lost the adrenaline of getting under their skin, all because he knew that it was inevitable death waiting to happen. One twist of the neck when they'd have him in a choke hold to cut of circulation indefinitely, one crude comment and he'd lose to ability to see for a week or two.
What the fuck did they do to him?
He stood in front of the mirror as he ran his fingers through his dyed hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he took note to buy new dye soon.
He took a deep breath, turned around and made a beeline for the locker room door.
The longer he stayed there overthinking every decision he's made since he's arrived, the more afraid he'd be of ever leaving whatever comfort that room held for him.
The burning stares he felt as soon as he stepped into the main area was almost instant, almost laughable.
He kept his gaze low as he approached them, because unfortunately for him, they were still 'training' him.
"Well speak of the devil, or dare I say.. angel?" Ashton teased, lips curling as he watched the way Michaels eyebrows furrowed at the new nickname. What the hell did he even mean by that?
Once his gaze lifted, they met with the ones that made him the most unsettled. Those dead eyes that held absolutely no emotion from the man that scared him the most.
Though, that position was being challenged by the man standing ever so closely to the blonde one.
Michael decided that he couldn't take Luke's wrath today and instead directed his gaze at the man beside him. That had to have been the first time he was able to access the damage made to the perfectly tanned skin from the night before.
His cheek was bruised, slightly cut at the highest point on his cheek bone. His bottom lip was split and..
His curious green eyes trailed down.
His neck was covered in bruises.. not bruises persay but.. hickeys?
Michaels eyes then were directed to Luke's neck, finally realizing that the purple splay against such smooth skin weren't just normal bruises.
His jaw slacked ever so slightly as he wracked his mind to make the connections he couldn't find himself wanting to make. Had they.. given them to each other? Maybe they had a night out with some ring girls all in some fucked up sorta orgy-fest. Maybe they went clubbing or something and received their marks of affections there?
It wasn't until Ashton poked his head through the two from behind, eyeing their little fighter curiously as he seemed like he was drowning in his thoughts that Michael realized that twos a crowd and threes a party.
The bruises on Ashton's neck were a bit more minimal, but the bite marks peeking over the lining of his muscle tank contrasted vibrantly against the rest of his skin tone.
Michael visibly flushed.
It was Calum who took notice first, noticed the way Michaels tired eyes roamed lower than their eyes, something he never usually did because they taught him better than to not make eye contact when someone spoke to him.
The way his face brightened to match the colour of his hair, and the way he directed his eyes up quickly but not before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.
Something he only did when he got flustered.
They would know, they trained to be observant of one's body language to aid them in their fights.
But maybe they were a bit too observant with Michael, seeing as an opponent really didn't need to know when the other was flustered of all things.
The tanned man allowed the familiar smirk to settle on his face as he looked the boy up and down before turning to look at the other two men, admiring last nights work that really was visibly on display.
"Just say it, punk."
"Did you- uh.. did- fuck."
Luke seemed to have gotten the memo, darting his eyes down at his own chest and neck as he recalled the events from last night. How Ashton's teeth dug so snuggly against the curve of his neck and collarbone, the way Calums hands roughly kept him still as he moved so quickly in and out and-
He would've killed to have Michael watching the whole thing go down if this was his reaction to just thinking about it.
"Fuck? We did, yea. Why?" Ashton chuckled, lips curling into a sinister grin to mock the poor flushed fighter.
Michael fidgeted with the drawstrings on his sweats, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. What in the hell was he supposed to say to that? He wasn't even finished processing it!
"So- you three- you're.. uh.." Michael babbled mindlessly, cheeks tinted such a pretty shade of pink that the three almost liked it more than the blood that would smear across his pale skin in training.
Key word, almost.
'Fucking sadists' as Michael previously mentioned.
Luke took a step forward, face returning to one of coldness and danger. The one that Michael feared so deeply.
The tall blonde roughly took Michaels chin in his hand, tilting his head up so that he'd stop gaping at the fucking gym floor mats.
"First of all," Luke spat, loving the way he was able to intimidate the young fighter. It was a rush he wasn't exactly able to reach with the other two, though he's damn sure he reaches other rushes and limits with them.
Just not one like this, one they all certainly lacked.
Why else would they all have taken interest to the newest and youngest fighter at the gym? Pushed him around and conditioned him to fear something he should grow comfortable with.
This power dynamic was driving all of them crazy, especially little fighter Michael.
The blondes lips grazed the younger boys ear lobe. He felt him shiver in his grasp and suddenly, he wanted to know every reaction the boy could muster.
But it wasn't so sudden, it happened over the span of the last few weeks. He was just scared to admit it, and he knew the others feared this common thought just as much.
And to say they were the strongest.
"you look at someone when they speak to you. You want to be a good fighter when you can't even remember the most important rule? Eye contact, Clifford." Luke finished, voice lowering ever so slightly.
"Secondly," he began again, pulling away slightly to finally meet the green orbs that widened in something familiar yet so.. distant.
"what has you so interested in what the three of us have been up to, hm?"
Michael was utterly red. Ashton had to refrain the urge to laugh at the poor man, yet his mind had other intentions.
He wanted to make him red all over.
"No! I mean- no I'm not.. you just- fuck you, oh my god!" he stammered, hands coming up the cover his face as he spun on his heel, turning around.
It's like the thick tension that was being built suddenly drifted away, leaving the three boxers laughing hysterically at Michaels demise. They couldn't find it in them to be ticked off at the curse spewed at them from Michael. He was off the hook as they were positively sure of two things.
If they continued, he'd spring a boner like a teen going through puberty. And the other? He'd have a nose bleed from the embarrassment displayed in his red face.
A bit of humour always lifted their heavy moods however, it's not often that people come home from a day at a place like that with good memories to reminisce on.
As Michael fanned his face with his back turned to the other three, Calum felt his phone vibrate against his thigh from his pocket.
He grabbed his phone and quickly read over a message from a contact named 'B.B.R '.
"Meet @ bar downtown at 9, 5th street. I have upcoming scheduling and payment to discuss."
Calum grinned and hummed triumphantly as he nudged the other two, showing them the message. This message was always great new to them.
The day they got their bidding's from their fights, all the injuries and painful training sessions having paid off to be exactly where they are today. Plus, they always got a bit of heads up from the boss for their upcoming fights.
Being the best of the best had it's perks.
Just as Michael was turning back around, face evidently less red and hot, Calum caught his eye and couldn't help but want to bring their youngest fighter along on the ride.
Give him a taste of what it means to work in a hell hole like this, where pay wasn't always guaranteed and the bruises hurt a bit too much than the ones layering underneath the new bloom of blue.
They've showed him most of what they could, why not bring him along for this too.
"So, think you can meet us here after hours, punk?" the tanned man asked, arms coming to cross over his chest.
The red haired boy only tilted his head slightly, eyebrows furrowing as he didn't understand why they'd want to see him for longer than what was already necessary.
They clearly didn't treat him like they enjoyed his company.
"At 9, we have somewhere to be and we'd like to involve you." he finished. Seeing as he wasn't hearing any objections from his two partners, he figured he was in the clear for not consulting them about any extended invitation to their private meetings.
"Would it be wise on my behalf to say no?" Michael asked wearily, wondering if he'd get jumped for their own entertainment when he was completely off guard or if they actually planned on doing something to help him advance in this line of work.
Ashton smirked and tilted his head back at Michael the way he originally did at them.
"No one says no to us, princess. Especially not you." he concluded.
Michael refrained from rolling his eyes as his tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek in thought.
Luke's stare could only harden at this. The boy was creating such sinful images in his dark mind and he was so fucking oblivious to it all.
Until he finally answered.
"I'll see you at 9 then."
—
I feel like this was it. This chapter is officially the turning point for the story.
I have so much planned muah ha ha ha (sex.)
feel free to leave comments and feed back! i love reading and responding to everyone, it makes my day always.
THE OFFICIAL KNOCKOUT PLAYLIST: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0ABsyRb4XdN8lkmbbWGgSz?si=tcwyT0mZT1qkLAheVCVmnA
also question, do you guys prefer the longer chapters? or do you prefer shorter ones, lmk! <3