Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The metallic taste of blood filled Nicholas’ mouth as he felt the bare knuckles of his opponent come into contact with his lower jaw. It was a solid hit. He had been knocked back a few feet, but was able to stay standing, regaining his composure. He could hear a distinct ringing in his ears.

“Fuck…” He groaned, rubbing the blood dripping from his mouth as he braced himself for another blow.

The thick, acrid air stung Nicholas’ nose as he inhaled. It had that familiar sticky, sweet smell of blood, sweat and cigarette smoke mixed together. The signature smell of the fight club. It almost made his stomach turn.

He threw a punch at his opponent’s right flank, who dodged it with ease. Nicholas let out a low hiss under his breath. He knew he was slowing down at this point in the fight, since he sustained a hit earlier to his left temple. He could still feel the warm blood dripping down his face into his left eye.

Nicholas could sense the tension in the air, as he assessed his opponent. The shouts coming from the crowd surrounding them had grown even more demanding. Most of them had bet money on who was going to win this fight. His opponent was still considered a rookie, even though he had been fighting at the club for a few months now. Nicholas tried to remember his name. Was it Kenji? Kenzo? He couldn’t remember.

He just knew that most of the bets tonight were placed on him winning over his opponent. He was considered one of the veteran fighters around here, and his track record of wins was impressive.

Nicholas could hear curses coming from the crowd. They were being directed at his opponent, who seemed to brush them off as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He spit onto the dry, cracked concrete next to him before finally lunging at Nicholas.

He tried to throw another punch at Nicholas’ left temple, but was intercepted as he dodged it. At that moment, Nicholas saw a split second of hesitation, an opening. This was it, this was his chance.

Nicholas grabbed his opponent’s wrist tightly, before twisting his arm behind him. He pinned him to the ground, straddling his waist from behind. His opponent squirmed underneath him, cussing and trying to push him off. Nicholas knew he had the upperhand at this point. He knew he had to knock him out to win this fight.

Nicholas began hitting the back of his opponent’s head with his right fist, pinning his arm down with his other hand. He could hear his cries as he threw blow after blow, his face slamming against the concrete. He could feel the burning sting of his bare knuckles as they came into contact with his opponent’s thick skull. Again and again. Crack after crack of bone against bone.

It felt like an eternity until he finally heard the shrill whistle of the club’s referee.

“He’s out, he’s out!”

The crowd surrounding them uproared. Nicholas could feel hands grabbing him, pulling him off his bloodied opponent. He was heaving, gasping for air, staring down at the passed out mass below him. He could see a pool of blood forming from where he smashed his face down onto the concrete. He suddenly felt the referee grab his left hand, lifting it into the air, announcing him as the winner of this fight.

A group of people were helping out his opponent, who had regained consciousness. He looked worse for wear. A dazed look was on his face as blood dripped from his nose and mouth. Nicholas saw him throw up onto the cracked pavement. He definitely had a concussion.

Nicholas felt someone place a heavy hand on his shoulder, guiding him away from the clearing of the makeshift arena. As he was being led away from the clearing, he could sense that the crowd was amping up for the next fight. They already wanted to see more bloodshed.

“Great job, Nico, I really thought he might’ve had you there for a second,” Nicholas could hear his fighting coach, Fuma, mutter into his ear, “You did a great job at keeping your composure.”

Nicholas nodded in response, before wincing. He could already feel the adrenaline from the fight wearing off, the stinging in his temple now more pronounced. His entire body ached.

“Yudai will patch you up in a second here,” Fuma said, handing Nicholas a towel so he could wipe off the sweat and blood caked on his face.

He then began his usual ramblings about his observations from the fight, giving him advice on how to improve his technique. Nicholas was too exhausted at this point to comprehend what he was saying.

They were walking towards the back exit of the abandoned warehouse that held the fight club, weaving their way through the crowd of people who were craving the sight of blood and violence. A few of them were actively observing Nicholas as he walked past, finally able to see his injuries up close.

“Jesus Christ,” Nicholas heard Yudai hiss, as they exited through the back doors. He quickly discarded the cigarette he was smoking, as he approached Nicholas and Fuma. “I swear every time you fight you somehow end up looking worse and worse.”

“Thanks,” Nicholas winced, as Yudai gently touched his bloodied temple.

“I’m going to collect the winnings, I’ll be right back,” Fuma said, squeezing Yudai’s right shoulder before disappearing back into the warehouse.

Nicholas observed his surroundings. He noticed there were a few stragglers from the club walking around outside; smoking or drinking or chatting with each other.

“This is going to need stitches,” Yudai said, pointing at Nicholas’ temple. He pulled gauze and sutures out of his medic bag.

“Sit down.” He said, as he pulled on some rubber gloves.

Nicholas was thankful Fuma knew Yudai. Being a part of an illegal fighting ring, medical assistance wasn’t provided. Fighters needed to find their own medical care if their injuries were severe. Luckily, Fuma’s boyfriend just so happened to be a paramedic.

Yudai used an alcoholic wipe to clean Nicholas’ knuckles, before he started wrapping them tightly with gauze. “I heard the other fighter was just a rookie. He really fucked you up, huh?”

“Mm.” Nicholas affirmed, watching as Yudai worked. He felt a small smirk pulling at his lips, “I won though.”

Yudai sighed, “You always do.”

“Not always.” He winced, as the small suture needle pierced the tender skin around his busted temple.

Nicholas let out a low hiss, as Yudai continued to stitch up his wound. He was used to this routine. He was used to being damaged beyond repair after a fight and Yudai fixing him up. It didn’t mean the pain hurt any less.

By the time Fuma got back, Yudai had already screened Nicholas for a concussion and checked for any internal bleeding by palpating his bruised abdomen. He ultimately decided that Nicholas was as okay as he could be for now. He told him that if he felt any nausea, to let him know immediately.

“Here is your portion of winnings for the fight,” Fuma said, handing Nicholas a wad of cash.

They had an agreement that Fuma got 20% of his winnings from each fight, a fair portion for training him and providing him medical treatment in the form of Yudai.

“Thanks,” Nicholas said, shoving the wad of cash into the pocket of his athletic shorts, “I’ll see you first thing tomorrow, I’m guessing?”

Fuma was a professional boxer. He didn’t fight in the illegal fighting rings Nicholas took part in. He only liked to watch the fights, until he had met Nicholas.

Nicholas was just a fresh faced, twenty-two year old rookie when he first took up a spot in the fighting ring. Fuma had told him that he had such a determined, hopeful look on his face that tugged hard on his heartstrings. He was met with such a harrowing defeat that night, that Fuma decided right then to train him, to take him under his wing. That was almost three years ago now.

“Yeah, 8AM, sharp,” Fuma replied, wrapping an arm around Yudai’s shoulders, “get some rest, Nico. I’ll see you.”

Nicholas watched as they departed. He assumed that they were probably heading towards the train station to take the short ride back home.

He sighed and lit a cigarette, as he leaned against the hard brick wall of the warehouse. It was dark out, the only light coming from the street lights nearby.

He exhaled, watching the cigarette smoke trail off into the warm summer breeze surrounding him. He listened to the distant screams of the crowd inside, as they watched another fight.

🍓🍊

Euijoo could hardly believe what he was seeing.

Two grown men, about his age, pummeling each other. Bare knuckle fighting. It was something he had only seen in movies; something he had only read about in books. But here he was, in the flesh, standing within a large crowd that were watching the two fighters take each other on in the ring.

His friend Taki had taken him here, telling him about the betting involved at these fight clubs. He had told him it was a good way to earn money fast. And boy, did Euijoo need money right now.

“What do you think?” Taki asked, nudging Euijoo in the ribs.

He had a large grin on his face, and an arm wrapped around another one of their friends, Harua.

Euijoo knew Harua was not into this kind of scene, seeing as Taki had dragged him here with them. He could see that he was visibly tense. He had his arms crossed across his chest, and his lips were pressed into a tight line.

“Honestly? It’s horrific,” Euijoo said to Taki, “How do they not kill each other?”

“That’s the whole point, the risk,” Taki said, “You’ll see.”

“I think I see it already quite clearly,” Euijoo muttered, but Taki couldn’t quite hear him over the crowd.

One of the fighters in front of them had punched his opponent, knocking him clean off his feet. Euijoo watched as he pounced onto him, and began punching him over and over again. He could hear the cracks of the fighter’s bare fist hitting his opponent’s skull. He could see the blood flying onto the concrete. He looked away, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. He was relieved to hear the blow of the whistle a moment later, as the winner of the fight was announced.

“Next fight, we’re betting,” Taki said, nudging Euijoo again, “Nicholas is fighting”

“Who is Nicholas?” Euijoo asked.

“One of the veteran fighters here, he wins every time I’ve seen him,” Taki said, “our guaranteed moneymaker.”

“If he wins every time, won’t everyone bet on him?” Harua asked.

“Not everyone, some people like the uncertainty of betting on an underdog,” Taki stated.

His face lit up a second later, pointing at something over Euijoo’s shoulder, “See over there? That's Nicholas.”

Euijoo turned around, getting a clear view of the fighter named Nicholas. Once he saw him, he felt his heart stop abruptly in his chest.

He had shaggy dark hair and even darker eyes, looks that could most certainly kill a man. He definitely had the appearance of an experienced fighter. Euijoo could see the smattering of scars covering his bare arms and face; his crooked nose; his built frame as he warmed up.

Nicholas’ biceps tensed as he stretched, making Euijoo’s mouth suddenly feel very dry. He couldn’t help but think that despite the roughness of his features, he was beautiful.

“Come on, people are starting to place bets,” Taki said, as he grabbed Euijoo’s hand. He led him over to a group of people gathering nearby.

There was a young woman collecting money from the large queue of people waiting to place bets. Taki told Euijoo she would be allocating the money later to the winners.

Euijoo didn’t plan to bet much tonight, so he only brought ten thousand yen with him. However, once he heard the bets other people were placing, he thought maybe he should have brought more.

“100,000 yen, on Nicholas.”
“I place 50,000 on the rookie, he looks like a tough one.”

“Jesus Christ…” Euijoo muttered to Taki, “People are betting a lot of money on this.”

By the time they had placed their bets, the two fighters had already taken up the ring. They were warming up on their respective sides, as they waited for the referee to start the match.

Euijoo noticed another man standing in the ring, talking to Nicholas. He could see that he was listening intently, hanging on every word. He watched as Nicholas gave a curt nod to the man, before he squeezed his shoulder and joined the rest of the crowd.

Was he giving him some words of encouragement? Euijoo wondered who the man was to Nicholas.

A shrill whistle rang out a moment later, signifying the start of the match. Euijoo watched as both of the fighters began to assess each other, raising their fists in a defensive position.

“Let's go, Nicholas!” Taki yelled over the chatter of the crowd.

He was jumping up and down excitedly. A few people standing by had glanced over, and Harua grabbed Taki’s arm, shushing him.

The first move of the match was by Nicholas' opponent, who threw a punch at his exposed ribs. Euijoo watched as he dodged it with ease. He could see that Nicholas’ face was intent and focused, not a hint of a reaction caused by his opponent's move. Euijoo thought to himself that if looks could kill, his opponent would be dead already.

That was how the fight went on for a while, the two fighters trying to get a hit on one another, without much success. The crowd seemed to be growing more and more restless. They were obviously unimpressed by the lack of action so far.

Euijoo began to wonder how long matches like these usually take. As he went to check his watch, Nicholas was able to make first contact with his opponent, punching him hard in his solar plexus. The crowd went wild.

“Hell yeah!” Taki screeched loudly.

Euijoo didn’t know the first thing about fighting techniques, but he could tell Nicholas was good at it. The opponent was able to throw a few solid blows at him, but Nicholas always kept a firm and steady stance on his feet. He would dodge left and right, avoiding his opponent’s advances. He was totally in his element out there. This just made it harder and harder for Euijoo to look away from him.

Euijoo watched closely as Nicholas’ sweat dripped down onto his brow, his face glistening. He watched as his pink tongue ran over his plump bottom lip to moisten it. Euijoo could feel his heart racing in his chest, the tension thick in the air.

He let out a soft cry when he saw Nicholas receive a heavy blow to his left temple. His opponent’s knuckles had split open the delicate skin there, blood now freely flowing down the left side of Nicholas’ face.

Euijoo bit down onto the tender flesh inside his cheek.

“Is he okay? Is there usually this much blood?” He asked Taki. He noticed his voice sounded an octave higher than usual.

“He’s fine,” Taki said, brushing Euijoo off, “I’ve seen way worse at these kinds of things.”

Euijoo glanced over at Harua, who looked a bit pale. He was grasping Taki’s arm tightly and his mouth was opened in a tiny “O” shape. Euijoo couldn’t get a read on if this look was one of shock or awe.

He noticed the rowdiness of the crowd was picking up again, as Nicholas was punched hard in the lower jaw. He stumbled backwards, but quickly recovered. There was still a steady stream of red trickling down his face.

Euijoo could hear the crowd trying to rile up Nicholas’ opponent, who seemed completely disinterested in their disapproval. He had thrown another punch at Nicholas, but he was able to dodge it.

Euijoo felt a small gasp leave his throat when he saw Nicholas had caught his opponent’s wrist in a tightly wound grasp. If he had blinked, he would have missed it. In an instant, Nicholas had pinned his opponent to the ground.

Harua let out a soft cry, as he buried his face into Taki’s chest. He didn’t want to see Nicholas slamming his opponent’s face into the concrete floor. Taki tried to keep an eye on the fight, but he was also trying to comfort Harua. He kept glancing down at the man buried in his chest and asking if he was okay.

Euijoo, however, couldn’t look away from the image before him.

Blood was pooling onto the ground and Nicholas' chest was heaving. He was being pulled off his opponent by two other men. The crowd was roaring loudly as the referee grabbed Nicholas’ hand and announced him as the winner.

Euijoo hadn’t moved an inch the entire match, but he was sweating profusely. He could feel the scorching heat of a lit flame roaring deep inside his belly. He was discovering a lot about himself tonight.

-

Euijoo counted the money the woman had handed to him after the match, realizing that he had doubled the amount he had brought with him. It was still not a lot, all things considered, but it was a start.

“All thanks to Nicholas,” Taki grinned, waving the money grasped tightly in his hand, "there's a few other veteran fighters that we can bet on tonight too; if you want to stay a bit longer.”

Euijoo opened his mouth to respond, but Harua beat him to it.

“I want to go home,” He whined.

“Or not,” Taki frowned, “we’ll have to come again, without him next time.”

Euijoo agreed.

“You guys suck,” Harua groaned, pouting.

They began walking slowly towards the exit, as Euijoo counted his money again.

“It’s not a lot,” He sighed, before burying the cash deep into one of the pockets of his denim cargo shorts.

“Yeah, if you want more money, you can’t really play it safe at these kinds of things,” Taki stated, “I’d bet your next paycheck if I was you.”

“Not funny,” Euijoo replied, dryly.

“Or you could always become a fighter yourself,” Taki said, "I’ve heard fighters make pretty good yen at these things.”

“You’re joking,” Harua scoffed and Taki shrugged in response.

“Like, how much yen exactly?” Euijoo asked.

“A couple hundred thousand yen a match I think? But that’s if they win,” Taki stated.

Euijoo couldn’t believe he was actually considering it right now, but he desperately needed the money. He bit down hard on his bottom lip, deep in thought. Harua must’ve noticed, because he punched him hard in the shoulder.

“I swear, Euijoo, if you’re actually thinking about it right now,” Harua hissed, “It’s extremely stupid and dangerous!”

“I’m not, I’m not,” Euijoo chuckled nervously, rubbing his arm. He hoped Harua couldn’t tell that he was lying through his teeth.

🍓🍊

At 8am on the dot; Nicholas showed up to the gym where he and Fuma would train every morning.

Fuma would always rent the gym out for a two hour block, so Nicholas was the only one there when he arrived.

He opened the solid glass door, the frigid AC hitting him hard in the face. It was a welcome break from the scorching summer heat outside.

He hitched his black gym bag higher up on his right shoulder, wincing in pain. His body was still sore and achy from the night before. However, Nicholas knew Fuma would still push him hard this morning, despite his injuries, so he decided to start his usual warmup.

He popped an earbud in each ear, as he began stretching on one of the gym mats nearby. He pressed shuffle on his workout playlist, before closing his eyes. As he listened to the music, he began stretching his right leg, feeling the hamstring pull taut.

Nicholas reached the midway point of his warmup, and he hadn’t yet noticed that Maki—one of the rookie boxers that trained under Fuma—had been standing over him and calling his name. Maki tapped him softly with the sole of one of his sneakers, finally drawing his attention.

“Nico,” He called again, as Nicholas pulled one of his earbuds out of his ear.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked, glancing up at Maki. He used a hand to shield his eyes from the bright fluorescent lights overhead.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” Maki asked, pointing directly at his own temple.

Nicholas knew that Maki didn’t know about the fight club scene he was a part of. He and Fuma had made a prior agreement to keep this part of their lives to themselves.

“Bar fight,” Nicholas responded, as he pushed himself to his feet.

This wasn’t exactly a lie. He currently works as a bartender for his day job. It was a steady paying job that didn’t ask too many questions, like why he showed up almost every other shift with a new black eye or stitches. Nicholas thought how there very well could have been a fight at the bar he worked at, just not one he actively participated in.

“Again?” Maki asked, raising an eyebrow. Shit. Nicholas had forgotten that he used that as his cover last time.

“Uh…yeah,” He replied, quickly. Looking around, he asked, “Where the fuck is Fuma?”

“Don’t know,” Maki shrugged, “I just got here a minute ago. Should we start running drills without him?”

“We should probably wait,” Nicholas sighed. He was relieved by the change of subject, “Yuma isn’t here yet either.”

“Yeah, but Yuma is always late,” Maki snorted. He walked over to his gym bag, fishing out his boxing gloves and strapping them on, “We might as well spar in the meantime.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Nicholas smirked.

-

By the time Fuma arrived, Nicholas and Maki had been sparring with each other for nearly 20 minutes.

They were both sweaty and panting, gasping for air. They equally shared that competitive spirit with each other, having pushed each other to their limits during their boxing match. Maki currently laid sprawled out on the gym mat, looking defeated.

Fuma acknowledged them with a nod, as he got settled. He dropped his gym bag on the floor with a solid thunk. He then kneeled down to unzip it, and began rummaging through its contents.

Nicholas couldn’t help but notice that Fuma looked more tired than usual. His raven-black hair was unkempt, and he had dark, puffy bags under his eyes. He also noticed the tiny constellations of bruises smattered across his neck and collarbone. He obviously had tried to conceal the hickies with the thick, black sweatshirt he wore.

Fuma glanced up at Nicholas, a look of acknowledgement crossing his face when he realized he was staring directly at him. Nicholas snorted out a laugh.

“What’s funny?” Maki asked, abruptly. He sat up, looking between the two older men for a semblance of an answer.

“Nothing,” Fuma replied, “Nico’s just being immature, as usual.”

He then stood up and placed his hands on his waist, assessing the two men before him. He raised an eyebrow, “Is Yuma late again?”

“Yep,” Maki and Nicholas responded in unison. Fuma sighed.

“He gets charged by the hour, you’d think he’d at least show up on time…” He muttered. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, visibly frustrated.

“I guess you two can get started with drills,” He said, “I want to see 100 sit ups from both of you.”

Maki let out a groan, still exhausted from their match earlier. Despite this, they immediately got to work.

Nicholas held down Maki’s legs as he started doing his sit ups. Fuma was playing with the speaker he brought with him, picking a playlist for their training session. All three of them heard the glass front door open with a sudden gush of air.

“Ah! There he is,” Fuma exclaimed, “And he brought…friends?”

Nicholas quickly glanced over his shoulder from where he was kneeling on the mat. He could see Yuma entering the gym, with two other men trailing after him. He knew one of them was Yuma’s tall friend, Jo. Nicholas played basketball with him a few times in the past. The other man, however, was a complete stranger to him.

“Yeah, hey guys,” Yuma said, “This is Euijoo and Jo, they just want to watch us train today. Is that cool?”

“Sure,” Maki said, without a second thought.

Fuma sighed, “I guess so. I just hope they won’t end up becoming a distraction.”

Yuma brushed him off with a small wave of his hand, as he began setting down his things nearby.

Nicholas frowned. He could see that Euijoo had been staring, wide eyed, directly at him since he got here. He couldn’t help but think how he looked oddly like a deer in headlights.

“Whats up with him?” Nicholas asked, standing up to face them.

They all glanced over at Euijoo. With all the sudden attention, a flush of red had creeped onto his round cheeks.

“Euijoo,” Jo spoke up, a moment later, “Do you know Nicholas from somewhere?”

“Uh, yeah, kinda,” Euijoo replied, “I kind of saw him fight last night.”

The training room grew eerily silent. Nicholas could feel Fuma’s eyes on him, burning a hole into the hollow crevice between his shoulder blades.

“At the bar?” Maki asked, skepticism drawn on his face.

“At the bar—What? No, I saw him at a fight clu-“ Euijoo began, but Nicholas was already walking over and grasping him tightly by the collar.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow,” Euijoo whimpered, as Nicholas dragged him into the empty locker room.

“Who the fuck are you?” Nicholas snapped, pushing Euijoo into one of the metal lockers.

Euijoo squirmed against Nicholas’ grasp. Their faces were a hair's width between each other, as Nicholas pushed him up against the cool metal of the locker. He could feel Euijoo’s bated breath brush softly against his face.

“I—I’m Euijoo. I’m friends with Jo, he’s the one that told me about this place. He’s friends with Yuma-“ Euijoo began to explain.

“Okay, yeah, I get that. So then why are you here?” Nicholas asked, with more force this time.

“I don’t know. I mean…honestly, to learn how to fight, I guess,” He rambled on, “I need money. My friend Taki—he told me fighters at the club make lots of it when they win a match. I want…I want to fight at the club. The club you fight at.”

Nicholas stared at Euijoo, trying to get a read of him. He could tell he wasn’t lying. He didn't seem like he’d be a good liar.

So, this meant he must be telling the truth. Somehow, this seemed worse. Nicholas released him and took a few steps back, letting out a sigh.

“You want to fight at the club?” Nicholas snorted. Euijoo nodded.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I could easily break you in two right now.”

Euijoo frowned, crossing his arms over his chest, “Okay, rude.”

“I’m being serious, you’re a twig,” Nicholas replied, as he poked Euijoo’s arm.

Euijoo swatted his hand away with a huff of breath and shot a heavy glare at him, "That's why I’m here, obviously, to train.”

“Why?” Nicholas asked.

“Why, what?”

“I know why you want to fight, for the money, or whatever. But why do you need it?” Nicholas asked, “Surely, a nice, clean boy like you can find a stable, well-paying job.”

Euijoo sighed, throwing a lanky arm over his head, as he scratched the nape of his neck, “I just—I have my reasons okay.”

Nicholas could sense the hint of desperation in his voice and decided not to press on the topic. That desperation was something he was all too familiar with. It's why he, himself, had turned to the fight club a little over three years ago.

“You know the risk you’re taking, right? People can die at these things,” Nicholas said, “It’s not some silly game. This is real, hard shit.”

“Yeah, I know the risk,” Euijoo muttered.

Nicholas watched him intently. He had a defeated look on his face, staring down at his own dusty sneakers. Nicholas could feel his heart clench tightly, deep down within his chest.

“Okay.”

“Okay…what?” Euijoo asked.

“I guess I’ll train you,” Nicholas shrugged, “Fuma trains me, but he has enough on his plate with me, Yuma and Maki. So I guess…I’ll have to train you.”

Euijoo’s eyes grew wide, and Nicholas noticed his ears had tinged a soft pink.

“Are you serious?” He asked, “I can’t exactly pay you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nicholas said.

Euijoo immediately began to protest, but Nicholas brushed him off swiftly.

“I said it’s fine, I just need you to agree to two things,” Nicholas said.

“Okay…what are they?” Euijoo asked, hesitantly.

“Number one is, that you can’t tell anybody about the fight club,” Nicholas began, holding up his pointer finger, “Fuma and I don’t want the younger ones to find out about it. It’s also, you know, illegal, so it would make things a whole lot easier if it’s kept between us.”

Euijoo looked around, “Are we in that Fight Club movie right now?” He asked, as a small smirk grew on his face.

Nicholas rolled his eyes and groaned, “Yeah, whatever, shut up.”

“But okay, I won’t tell anyone,” He agreed, “What's the other thing?”

“Number two is…” Nicholas began again, holding up two fingers this time, “don’t get attached.”

“Okay…And what is that supposed to mean?”

“This,” Nicholas said, flicking a finger between the two of them, “is just a temporary arrangement.”

“Oh, I see…” Euijoo muttered, “You must think very highly of yourself.”

“Maybe,” Nicholas smirked, “but I’m just being honest. Attachments in the fight club can be messy. I could die from a head injury or something during my next fight, or one day we might be pinned up against each other. It's just better on equal parts if we keep things strictly professional.”

Euijoo sighed, annoyed by Nicholas’ smugness, “Well, don’t flatter yourself. There's no way I’ll get attached. Trust me, this is purely transactional.”

🍓🍊

Euijoo ended up breaking the first agreement a day later. He was hanging out with Harua and Taki at their apartment, when he told them the streamline of events he encountered yesterday morning.

He decided it was probably okay, since they already knew about the fight club, right?

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Harua groaned, slumping back onto the plush rug he currently sat on in his and Taki’s shared living room.

“I think it's cool,” Taki grinned, “Fighter JuJu. Maybe that could be your fight club nickname.”

“Maybe,” Euijoo chuckled softly, “I start training with Nicholas tonight, around 6pm.”

Taki let out a soft squeal of excitement, “You have got to let me meet him sometime. I need to tell him how cool he is.”

“I’m not sure if he’d like that. I don’t think I’m supposed to be telling you guys about any of this right now,” Euijoo stated, “This is our secret, alright?”

Taki agreed and Harua did too, although reluctantly.

They put a movie on, some mindless romantic comedy, when Euijoo heard his phone vibrate in his backpack. He pulled his bag over to him, and fished it out.

He clicked on his screen, surprised to see no new notifications. He felt his heart drop into his stomach, realizing the connotation. It must’ve been his other phone. He sighed. What now? Why now?

He excused himself to the restroom, hoping Harua and Taki didn’t notice him taking his backpack.

After he clicked the bathroom door shut and locked it, he pulled his burner phone out, flipping it open. There was a new message.

Drop tonight. 6pm sharp. Behind the Tsukiyo Casino. Be there.

He felt his stomach turn. That was when he was supposed to be meeting Nicholas. Of all times they could’ve chosen, why then? He sighed. There was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t allowed to respond, he just had to do as he was ordered.

-

This all started when Euijoo’s father died, a little over three years ago.

He was twenty-two years old then, still living with his family in his home country of South Korea. He was never very close with his father growing up, his drug addiction and gambling debts making him someone he chose to avoid altogether.

Luckily, Euijoo’s parents were separated—and his father spent more time trying to get his next high than bonding with his own kids—so avoiding him turned out to be quite an easy task.

However, when his father passed away, Euijoo was surprised that he felt more resentment and unbridled guilt than anything else. He realized that he was disappointed in himself, disappointed that he didn’t try to rekindle a relationship with his father. 

That was until the day he came home to find his mother sobbing over a letter someone had dropped into their mailbox. After reading that letter, all Euijoo could feel was pure hatred and anger for his father.

Most well-meaning fathers pass down cherished heirlooms or fond memories to their children when they pass away. Euijoo’s father had passed down nothing but hardship. His father owed 75 million yen in debt to one of the biggest organized crime groups in Japan. The Ryuji gang, they were called. They requested that his family pay back this debt immediately or they’d lose everything: their house, their belongings, his Mother’s tea shop. They would destroy their lives.

Being the only man of the house, and desperately wanting to protect his mother and sister, Euijoo had agreed to work for the Ryuji gang to repay his father’s debt.

That was how he ended up in Japan: dealing drugs, washing the money he earns from dealing drugs, giving the washed money back to the gang and repeating the process.

Euijoo hated it. He missed his family back in Korea. He missed his life. Even after three years, he had barely made a dent in his father's 75 million yen debt. This is why he was so desperate for money. This is why he would fight.

-

After picking up the drop that night, Euijoo showed up to the gym at approximately 6:45pm. He was completely out of breath, having run most of the way from the drop location.

Nicholas was sitting down on one of the weightlifting benches, scrolling on his phone mindlessly. He glanced up at Euijoo as he entered the gym.

“You’re late,” He stated.

Euijoo quickly scanned his face for any hint of emotion. Was he mad? Upset? He couldn’t get a read of him.

“Yeah,” Euijoo sighed, “I’m sorry.”

Nicholas’ dark eyes stared at him intensely. For some odd reason, Euijoo felt a tiny flutter in the pit of his stomach.

“No excuses?” Nicholas asked, “I thought maybe you would be making up some bullshit story about why you’re late right now.”

“Nope, no excuses,” Euijoo replied, “Can we get started?”

He dropped his heavy backpack onto the floor, hoping the loud thunk it made didn’t sound too suspicious.

“Alright, sure,” Nicholas said. He traipsed over onto the gym mat and gestured towards Euijoo, “Let’s see what you can do.”

“Uh…what?” Euijoo asked, confusion apparent in his voice.

“Come on, fight me,” Nicholas ordered this time.

Euijoo just stared at him, mouth agape, before realizing he was completely serious.

“Shouldn’t I be hitting some punching bags? Or lifting some weights or something? Before fighting anyone for real?” Euijoo asked. His voice came out in a high pitched whine, and he realized how nervous he sounded.

“Maybe, but I want to see how strong you are first,” Nicholas said, “Come on.”

“Okay…” Euijoo muttered, before walking over to face Nicholas.

He raised his closed fists up slowly into a defensive position, as Nicholas did the same. They just stood there, staring at each other for a long time.

Euijoo knew that he was going to have to make the first move, but didn’t know where to begin. Should he aim for his stomach? Try to swipe his legs out from underneath him? How should he go about this?

“Any day now,” Nicholas said, “But I do work tonight, just FYI, my shift starts at 8:30.”

As he said this, Euijoo saw him lower his guard for a split second. He lunged for him then, aiming for his face. However, he was pinned to the ground in seconds.

Euijoo felt strong arms wrap around his waist, as Nicholas flipped him over. His face was pressed hard against the gym mat underneath him. He could feel warm hands pressed to the small of his back, and felt heat rushing to his cheeks.

“Nice try,” Nicholas let out a chuckle, as he pushed off Euijoo to stand again, “Let’s go, again.”

Euijoo rolled over onto his back, staring up at Nicholas.

“It's hopeless, I don’t know what I’m doing,” He groaned, “Are you just doing this because you’re mad I was late?”

“No, but it is quite satisfying,” Nicholas smirked.

Euijoo pushed himself up onto his feet and got into position again. Nicholas observed him closely, walking right over and encircling him. Euijoo glanced over his shoulder as Nicholas walked up right behind him.

“It’s the way you’re standing, I could easily knock you off your feet,” Nicholas explained.

He pushed Euijoo’s legs farther apart, widening his stance so he was more grounded into the floor. He then reached a hand forward, tentatively, grasping Euijoo’s wrist as he raised his arms slightly higher.

“Right there,” Nicholas muttered, his hot breath tickling Euijoo’s right ear.

Euijoo could feel his heart trying to burst out of his chest. He could hear blood rushing loudly in his ears.

“Thanks,” Euijoo mumbled, as Nicholas walked back over to where he was standing before. Euijoo’s wrist tingled from the ghost of his touch.

“Now, come on, again,” Nicholas challenged, this time in English, as he flicked two fingers on each hand towards himself.

-

Euijoo laid sprawled out on the gym mat, exhausted and sweaty. His chest was heaving, as his lungs were desperate for air.

In the past hour, he hadn’t been able to get even a single hit on Nicholas. But he had been pinned down to the mat below him more times than he could count. Nicholas stood over him now, cool and collected, like this was just a warmup for him.

“H-how..” Euijoo huffed, “Are you so…strong?”

“I’ve been fighting for the past three years,” Nicholas shrugged. He then grinned, smugly, “you might be able to knock me off my feet eventually, with enough practice.”

Euijoo groaned, throwing an arm over his face, “How am I ever going to win a fight at the club?”

“There are lots of inexperienced fighters like you there,” Nicholas stated, “You may not be able to beat me anytime soon, but if you train with me three times a week like we’ve planned, you can probably win some matches here and there in a few month’s time.”

“In a few months…” Euijoo muttered to himself, finding it unbelievable.

He lay there for a while, catching his breath. When he opened his eyes, he could see Nicholas still staring down at him, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“What?” Euijoo asked.

“Nothing,” Nicholas said, as he quickly shook his head. He looked like he just snapped out of whatever kind of happy daze he was in.

“I got to head to work here soon, so I’m gonna shower,” He stated, pointing his thumb towards the locker rooms behind him, “You can chill for a bit. Just make sure to leave before I do, so I can lock this place up when I head out. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Okay, see you then,” Euijoo nodded.

He watched as Nicholas disappeared into the locker rooms. He needed to shower too, desperately, but the thought of being naked in any close vicinity to Nicholas made him feel lightheaded. He decided he’d shower at his apartment later.

He stood up and grabbed his backpack, swinging it up onto his shoulder. It was heavy from the weight of the kilogram of cocaine he carried within it.

🍓🍊

Two days later, Nicholas' alarm went off at 6am on Monday morning. He let out a soft groan, rubbing his tired eyes, before grabbing his phone off his bedside table to turn it off. The man next to him shifted in his sleep, his arm still draped over Nicholas’ naked body. Nicholas flicked it off him, before crawling out of bed.

He pulled on his boxers, glancing over at the man still asleep in his bed. It was one of his coworkers from the bar he worked at—Hiroshi. They would fuck around from time to time, but he never usually slept over.

Why was he still here? Nicholas thought he made it quite apparent that this was a fuck with no strings attached kind of relationship. Actual romantic relationships were way too complicated for him, especially if anyone he dated found out his usual way of blowing off steam.

Nicholas started to get ready for his day as loudly as he could, hoping that would stir Hiroshi awake. Unfortunately, this proved to be a fruitless endeavor, as Hiroshi continued to sleep. 

Nicholas groaned. Fuck this. He had to get ready for his usual training with Fuma in 2 hours. He needed this dude out of his apartment.

“Hey,” Nicholas muttered, shaking Hiroshi’s shoulder roughly.

Hiroshi finally stirred, opening his eyes slowly.

“Hey,” He smiled, “Good morning.”

“Yeah, good morning, whatever,” Nicholas responded, “I need you to head out now, I have somewhere to be.”

Nicholas really didn’t mean to snap at him, but he hated when hookups stayed over. He hated when people got attached. He was definitely not fucking this guy again.

Hiroshi frowned, before crawling out of Nicholas’ bed and grabbing his discarded clothing off the floor.

“We’ve been seeing each other for two months now, Nico,” Hiroshi stated, “I thought it was okay if just this once, I slept over.”

“Nope, not okay.”

He went back to his usual morning routine, rustling through one of his dresser drawers for what he was going to wear for the day. He was completely not interested in whatever this guy's deal was.

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” Hiroshi groaned. He was pulling on his shoes now, lacing them up, “You were way more affectionate last night than usual, so I thought—“

“You thought wrong,” Nicholas replied swiftly.

Except deep down, he knew he wasn’t wrong. He was a bit more affectionate last night. He had let Hiroshi kiss him, let him fuck him missionary style, let him cuddle him afterwards.

The thing was, he was imagining it was someone else entirely. Someone he had met just a few days before. He was imagining it was Euijoo, and he hated himself for it.

Nicholas hadn’t felt this way in a long time. He hadn’t had a stupid crush like this since grade school. He knew he was breaking the second rule he had placed between himself and Euijoo—he was starting to get attached. But it’s not like he was doing it on purpose, Euijoo was just so…Euijoo.

Nicholas thought Euijoo was attractive from the first moment he saw him walk into that gym. He had soft, brown hair that curled up at the nape, framing his delicately round face. A beautiful face with plush, full lips and big, brown eyes.

Nicholas was convinced that Euijoo’s eyes could completely absorb him, and see into the deepest depths of his dark, black soul. He was completely fucked.

And how could he not like the guy after getting to pin him down to the gym mat over and over again. He had even imagined if it had Euijoo been pinning him down instead. He imagined him pressing his hands down into the mat, kissing him roughly, opening him up, fucking himself into him. Oh god…he was going to be sick.

Nicholas heard his front door slam shut, as Hiroshi left his apartment, knocking him out of whatever kind of drunken stupor he was in. Fucking finally.

He ate breakfast, brushed his teeth and showered, all before heading out on his usual commute to the gym. As he exited his apartment building, he popped an earbud in each ear. He hit play on one of his music playlists, as he began his walk to the train station.

He suddenly felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and pulled it out without a second thought. He felt his heart skip a beat when he saw it was a message from none other than Euijoo.

EJ: still meeting tonight right? 6pm?
NICO: yep. c u then.

He buried his phone back into his pocket, trying to hide the giddy skip in his step as continued his commute. He felt stupid. It was just a five word text message, so why was he feeling this way?

-

“You look happy,” Fuma said. It was the first thing he said to Nicholas when he arrived at the gym that morning.

“Oh, really?” Nicholas asked, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

“Yes…this doesn’t have anything to do with your trainee, does it?” Fuma asked, in a hushed voice, “You know fight club relationships can get complicated.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nicholas lied.

He glanced over at Maki and Yuma, who didn’t seem to notice him and Fuma chatting in hushed whispers with each other. Yuma was spotting Maki as he lifted weights.

“Sure you don’t…” Fuma muttered, but immediately changed the subject, “Anyways, my contact reached out, the club is meeting tonight. Are you in?”

The fight club never met on a planned schedule. The club heads would usually use word of mouth to let members know if they were meeting. Fighters could choose whether or not to show up and participate.

“Sure,” Nicholas said, “I might bring Euijoo, just so he can observe some techniques.”

“Alright,” Fuma said, his mouth drawn into a solid, tight line. Nicholas could tell he didn’t like whatever he thought was going on between them, “As long as he won’t be a distraction for you.”

Nicholas scoffed, “Why would he be?”

-

Nicholas watched as Euijoo took a long swig from his water bottle. He could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, and he  forced himself to look away, plagued by impure thoughts.

They had just finished training for the night. Nicholas barely broke a sweat, as usual, while Euijoo was huffing from where he sat on the gym mat.

“I’m so sore,” He whined, stretching both arms over his head, as he slumped onto his back.

“You’re probably going to be sore for a bit, as you build up some muscle,” Nicholas said, “If I were you, I would start doing stretches in the morning, to warm up your body for the day. Drinking lots of water helps as well.”

Euijoo looked up at him and snorted, “Okay, Mom.”

“Shut up,” Nicholas hissed, kicking Euijoo softly with his shoe, “Sorry, I was just trying to give you advice as your trainer. How completely rude and horrible of me.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll do as I’m told,” Euijoo sighed, before pushing himself to his feet, “So, I’ll see you on Wednesday?”

“Yeah, about that…” Nicholas began, “The fight club is meeting tonight.”

Euijoo stared at him for a moment, a disoriented look on his face.

“Okay…and?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come watch me fight, you know…to observe,” Nicholas clarified.

God, why did he feel so nervous right now? He felt like he was at the playground, asking out some silly grade school crush. This was his trainee, for fucks sake, he was inviting him along to watch purely for educational purposes. But Nicholas already knew if Euijoo agreed to come tonight, he’d definitely be putting on a show.

After he shared this proposal, he saw Euijoo give him a look that he couldn’t quite describe. Was it hunger? Desire? Surely, he had just imagined it.

“Yeah, sure,” Euijoo agreed, grinning, “just to observe, or whatever.”

-

Nicholas stood amidst the crowd on the sidelines, as another match was currently occurring in the ring. He was warming up, stretching his right arm across his body, as he loosened the tense muscles in his bicep and shoulder. Euijoo and Fuma stood nearby, as they both watched the current match.

Nicholas watched Euijoo’s eyes focus on the fighters every move, his lips parted slightly. He glanced over at him, their eyes meeting. Euijoo gave him a small, reassuring smile, before they both tore their gazes away from each other.

Fuma seemed to take this opportunity to point out Nicholas’ opponent, who stood a few feet behind them. His name was Tadashi, and much like Nicholas, he was a veteran fighter at the club.

Nicholas had seen him fight a few times before. He was pretty good, all things considered. Not all of the fighters at the club had fighting coaches training them like Nicholas and Tadashi did. This meant he was a bit more on an equal playing ground with him than the other fighters were. It wouldn’t be an easy fight.

“In his previous fights, I’ve seen him favor his left leg,” Fuma told Nicholas, “He must have gotten an injury there in the past, so I would use that to your advantage during your fight.”

“Okay,” He nodded, watching Tadashi from afar.

He was chatting with his coach, stealing quick glances over at Nicholas. They must be discussing their strategy for the upcoming fight, just as he and Fuma had been.

Nicholas heard the shrill whistle from the referee, signaling that the current match was over. He hadn’t been paying attention. He glanced over as he saw one of the fighters sprawled out on the concrete. He was passed out, blood flowing freely from his broken nose. The winner was celebrating his victory, as the crowd cheered him on.

Nicholas knew he should be taking his spot in the ring right now, so he could prepare for his own fight. However, he quickly turned to Euijoo and grinned, “Wish me luck?”

“Good luck,” Euijoo said.

Nicholas nodded, before he began to walk over towards the ring.

He heard Euijoo call him, “Nico…” He began, “Don’t lose.”

“I won’t,” Nicholas promised, as he tried to keep a cool composure.

He could feel his stomach do a backflip when he heard Euijoo use his nickname for the first time. He suddenly felt like could do anything. Fly even.

Fuma followed Nicholas as he entered the ring, giving him some final pointers for his fight.

“You’ll do great, Nico,” Fuma said, patting him on the shoulder, “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Nicholas replied, as he watched Fuma disappear into the midst of the crowd.

He cracked his neck and knuckles, as he waited for the referee to signify the start of the match. He could see Tadashi warming up on the other side of the ring, his focused gaze not leaving his own. Just then, a familiar shrill whistle rang out.

-

The match lasted all of five minutes.

Nicholas didn’t know what possessed him. Maybe just the thought of having Euijoo watch him fight, he wasn’t sure.

He knocked Tadashi out in two blows. It had to be some kind of world record. He was still in shock, standing over the knocked out Tadashi, who laid sprawled out on the ground.

Nicholas didn’t have a single scratch on him. He could only feel the aching of his knuckles from where they came into contact with Tadashi’s face.

The referee held Nicholas’ hand in the air, announcing his win. The crowd was reeling, screams of astonishment rang out.

Nicholas knew there were no rules in the fight club, but he had a feeling the club heads were probably disappointed with his match.

Longer matches drew more excitement from the crowd, leading them to place more bets. More people placing more bets meant more losing their money to the fight club, which meant more yen being spread between the club heads and match winners. They would definitely consider his match a loss in their eyes. 

Fuma walked over to Nicholas, looking particularly stunned.

“Yudai will be happy, I guess,” Fuma stated, “We should go tell him, then collect the winnings.”

Nicholas didn’t respond, his mind on other matters.

“Where’s Euijoo?” He asked, glancing over Fuma’s shoulder. His eyes scanned the crowd, but he couldn’t see Euijoo anywhere.

“Nico…” Fuma began, slowly. Nicholas noticed the sympathetic look on his face.

“What?” He asked, and then grimaced. It came out way more direct and snappy than he meant it to.

“He, uh…Euijoo left, Nico. He got a phone call or something,” Fuma explained, “Right before the match started.”

Nicholas frowned. He pressed his lips together tightly, “I see.”

“Are you okay?” Fuma asked, “I’m sure he meant to watch, something probably came up.”

Nicholas felt a lot of things, but he felt especially thankful for Fuma right about now.

He was so glad he wasn’t telling him how he told him so. So glad that he wasn’t rubbing the pain in. Fuma seemed genuinely concerned for him, and considerate of his feelings.

Nicholas shook his head, “I’m fine, it's whatever,” He shrugged, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”