sparring partners. She’s a good friend. She’s permanently assigned down here now, so her husband decided to ope up his own dojo.”
“Damn it, I knew you were too good to be true.” Ray waved an accusing finger at him. “If it’s not ultramarathons, or people who treat CrossFit like some kind of cult, it’s martial arts…. Sometimes I think I am the only person on the planet who would rather be a couch potato.”
“You’re not, though. You’re in good shape.”
“Only because I have to be. Just because I want to be a couch potato doesn’t mean I can afford to be. If it weren’t a requirement for the job, I’d take a science-fiction movie marathon over the gym any day.”
Elliot just laughed at him.
“Don’t look at me like that. I already told you, being a geek has been sexy for decades now. I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“When I was a kid, I took karate. I earned my first black belt at fifteen, and when I walked into ROTC basic training the summer before I started college, I thought I could hold my own. The first time I got into a real fight was a few weeks into the first phase of training, when three other guys found out I was gay. The moment the fight went to the ground, I panicked. I flailed and spent all of my energy trying to get back on my feet. A really hot shorter man, dressed as a civilian had come to my rescue. Honestly, I figured we were both going to get our asses kicked when the guy just let them tackle him. But he just knocked two of the guys unconscious and broke the third guy’s arm like it was a twig. Afterward, I found out he was going to be one of my unarmed combat instructors and he convinced me that the karate I’d spent so many years practicing was worthless once a fight went to the ground. So I started judo instead.”
“One of your instructors? The instructor?”
Elliot nodded. “He made one hell of an impression.”
“Give me the clothes.” Ray took the bundle of clothes and turned toward the bathroom. There was no way he was going to let a look like the one Elliot was giving him go without challenge.
Four hours of throws, joint locks, and tumbles later, Ray was too tired and too sore to stay on his feet. He’d managed to keep up with Elliot for the first hour, but after that, the other man had thrown him around like a rag doll. He collapsed against one of the walls where some of the other fighters were resting. All of them were covered in sweat, and some of them were still red and panting. They all quietly watched Elliot and one of the club’s owners wrestle in a full-contact match.
Ray cringed as Elliot’s opponent knocked his head to the side with a sharp jab of his elbow. “They don’t fool around, do they?”
“They’re instructors,” said a young man farther down the wall. “They’ve got enough experience to play rough without hurting each other.”
When Elliot swept the other man’s feet out from under him and took them both to the ground, they hit the mat with a loud smack that made Ray jump. Ray stared at the focused, painful expression on Elliot’s face for a moment and realized that the last time Ray had seen a similar look on his face was in a mirror mounted above the hotel room bureau as Ray buried himself inside the other man’s body. He wanted to see that look on Elliot’s face again, that solid grimace of concentration before his climax slammed into him and left him drifting and droopy-eyed. He always made sure to take care of his lovers, but seeing another person orgasm had never thrilled him, until Elliot. Ray wanted to be the one responsible for putting that expression back on Elliot’s face.
He sighed and turned away. Sports cup or not, a hard-on wasn’t going to be comfortable.
“That’s just what they tell you kids to keep you from hurting each other.” That came from one of the two female fighters who added, “They want a real challenge, not a sparring match. They both know it, so they won’t whine about getting
“Damn it, I knew you were too good to be true.” Ray waved an accusing finger at him. “If it’s not ultramarathons, or people who treat CrossFit like some kind of cult, it’s martial arts…. Sometimes I think I am the only person on the planet who would rather be a couch potato.”
“You’re not, though. You’re in good shape.”
“Only because I have to be. Just because I want to be a couch potato doesn’t mean I can afford to be. If it weren’t a requirement for the job, I’d take a science-fiction movie marathon over the gym any day.”
Elliot just laughed at him.
“Don’t look at me like that. I already told you, being a geek has been sexy for decades now. I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“When I was a kid, I took karate. I earned my first black belt at fifteen, and when I walked into ROTC basic training the summer before I started college, I thought I could hold my own. The first time I got into a real fight was a few weeks into the first phase of training, when three other guys found out I was gay. The moment the fight went to the ground, I panicked. I flailed and spent all of my energy trying to get back on my feet. A really hot shorter man, dressed as a civilian had come to my rescue. Honestly, I figured we were both going to get our asses kicked when the guy just let them tackle him. But he just knocked two of the guys unconscious and broke the third guy’s arm like it was a twig. Afterward, I found out he was going to be one of my unarmed combat instructors and he convinced me that the karate I’d spent so many years practicing was worthless once a fight went to the ground. So I started judo instead.”
“One of your instructors? The instructor?”
Elliot nodded. “He made one hell of an impression.”
“Give me the clothes.” Ray took the bundle of clothes and turned toward the bathroom. There was no way he was going to let a look like the one Elliot was giving him go without challenge.
Four hours of throws, joint locks, and tumbles later, Ray was too tired and too sore to stay on his feet. He’d managed to keep up with Elliot for the first hour, but after that, the other man had thrown him around like a rag doll. He collapsed against one of the walls where some of the other fighters were resting. All of them were covered in sweat, and some of them were still red and panting. They all quietly watched Elliot and one of the club’s owners wrestle in a full-contact match.
Ray cringed as Elliot’s opponent knocked his head to the side with a sharp jab of his elbow. “They don’t fool around, do they?”
“They’re instructors,” said a young man farther down the wall. “They’ve got enough experience to play rough without hurting each other.”
When Elliot swept the other man’s feet out from under him and took them both to the ground, they hit the mat with a loud smack that made Ray jump. Ray stared at the focused, painful expression on Elliot’s face for a moment and realized that the last time Ray had seen a similar look on his face was in a mirror mounted above the hotel room bureau as Ray buried himself inside the other man’s body. He wanted to see that look on Elliot’s face again, that solid grimace of concentration before his climax slammed into him and left him drifting and droopy-eyed. He always made sure to take care of his lovers, but seeing another person orgasm had never thrilled him, until Elliot. Ray wanted to be the one responsible for putting that expression back on Elliot’s face.
He sighed and turned away. Sports cup or not, a hard-on wasn’t going to be comfortable.
“That’s just what they tell you kids to keep you from hurting each other.” That came from one of the two female fighters who added, “They want a real challenge, not a sparring match. They both know it, so they won’t whine about getting
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