It's been quiet round these parts, so I figured I'd post a little
something something from Heavy Hitters now that the
release date is (FINALLY!) getting close. ;-)
This is an excerpt from Chapter Fourteen in Round Three:
The Conflicted Years. Santi and Luca are new adults at this
point, becoming successful in their respective careers, and
realizing they can't lie to themselves about who they really are.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the official time this fight comes to an end is at 49 seconds of round number eight. The winner by technical knockout and new WBC welterweight champion of the world, Santinooo Malavééé…”
The green title belt was firmly secured around Santi’s waist when Julito and Héctor picked him up on their shoulders. His discipline and drive had paid off, and hopefully his life would be better because of it. Luca couldn’t be happier for him.
Santi approached Hacine and gave him a quick hug. Hacine was gracious in his defeat. He patted Santi’s back and congratulated him. Luca decided Hacine was a classy guy even if he’d been a jerk while promoting the fight.
There were two dozen people crammed into the ring by that point, but Santi sidestepped officials, camera crews, and interviewers until he reached the side of the ring that was closest to his family. He stood on the ropes with a huge grin and blew them a kiss, then his gaze locked on Luca’s, and his exhilarated expression morphed into what could only be described as sinful intent.
That was want gleaming in Santi’s eyes. It was physical attraction and carnal desire—his true nature peeking from beneath the surface and taking control. It was the same thing Luca had seen in his eyes that time Santi jumped him in the back of his truck, and Luca’s entire body reacted in response.
The usual conflictive emotions warred in his chest, but his throat got hot and tight, and his cock rose to full mast. They stared at each other for hours… maybe seconds… Luca couldn’t tell. It was impossible to be certain of anything when he was flaming inside and shivering from head to toe at the same time. Years of suppressed desire were raging through his system, burning up his veins and melting his brain and religious restrictions. If he didn’t get out of there fast, he’d jump over the ropes and throw Santi to the mat.
You’re mine, pai… No matter what you say or don’t say, you’re mine.
Up in the ring, Santi gulped. He must’ve guessed Luca’s thoughts.
The pay-per-view commentator shoved a microphone under Santi’s nose. Before shifting his attention to him, Santi made a quick gesture with his head that Luca knew from all the times they’d used it in the past. Santi wanted to be somewhere else, and he was asking Luca to come along.
Was it to talk? Did Santi want to go have dinner together like they always did or did he want to blow his wad and wanted Luca to give him a hand?
Santi’s words from earlier slammed into his chest.
Ejaculating before a fight weakens energy levels and decreases aggression, so… you know… It has to be after.
The commentator wrapped up his interview. Santi walked to his corner and stepped out of the ring.
Luca didn’t hesitate.
He ignored the voices in his head warning him against acting on impulse and sneaked away.
His decision wasn’t impulsive—it was instinctual. In that moment Luca was more than willing to go against catholic rules, not because he had a sudden urge to jerk off another man, but because he’d been thinking about it his entire life.
He was born liking men. Wanting to touch them and kiss them came naturally to him. Besides, this was Santi he was talking about—the guy whose presence set Luca on fire until he felt like he was burning alive. He had no idea what was about to happen between him and Santi, but not even the ten plagues of Egypt descending upon him could’ve stopped him from finding out.