A Dom and His Warrior

by Xenia Melzer

  Their private time was rudely interrupted when somebody grabbed him from behind and lifted him on Jonathan’s shoulders. The world came back in all its overwhelming intensity. From his elevated position on Jonathan’s shoulders, Leeland surveyed the crowd. He found his parents, who were cheering and laughing, hugging each other, and kissing openly. He saw Richard and Dean doing much the same, and Martin and Collin, who were both smiling so hard Leeland feared their faces would fall off. He had been worried when Collin announced he would come to his championship fight, remembering how badly the artist had reacted to his first match, but Martin had assured him the situation was under control, whatever that meant. At the time Leeland had been too preoccupied with the upcoming match to do more than accept Martin’s word, though he decided to find out soon what exactly he had done to get Collin through watching the match. Emilio, Peyton, Seth, and Curtis were doing a silly victory dance, throwing rainbow-colored confetti and paper streamers in the air. All the members of Whisper had mixed with the LGTBQ part of the audience, celebrating like they had won the fight themselves—and in a way, they had. This was another step in opening professional sports to gay athletes. Leeland was under no illusion that things would instantly become better, but with each tiny—and not so tiny—step, the world turned into a better place for queer people.

  Jonathan was slowly making his way toward the corridors, away from the crowd. When he reached the gate through which Leeland had come less than an hour ago, he helped him down from his shoulders, and together they went to the locker room where Leeland had changed. As soon as the door closed behind them, Leeland started kissing Jonathan frantically. Jonathan laughed through the kisses, a low, deep rumble in his chest that did funny things to Leeland’s lower body. By all rights he should have been too exhausted to move, but the adrenaline coursing through his body made him feel like somebody had given him an IV filled with coffee.

  “Do you want to have victory sex?” Jonathan’s seductive tone did nothing to dampen Leeland’s sudden lust.

  “Can we?”

  “It’s your win, Leeland. Of course we can. Anything you want.” Jonathan hesitated, pushed Leeland back a bit, and looked at him. “Anything you want,” he stressed, and for a moment Leeland didn’t understand what he meant. When it dawned on him, his eyes grew big, and he felt his heart overflowing with love. He went on tiptoe to kiss Jonathan on the nose.

  “As much as your offer tempts me, what I really need is to feel you inside me.”

  Jonathan lifted a brow. “Are you sure? I don’t know if I’m going to extend the offer beyond tonight.”

  The teasing tone told Leeland the offer was extended indefinitely.

  “I’m sure. I want you now. The other thing—we can do that when the time is right. And I do want to do you, make no mistake. It’s just, right now, I want to feel who I belong to.”

  Jonathan pulled him closer again. “You’re mine, honey. Mine alone.”

  “Show me.”

  Chapter 21

  A VERY long shower and some incredibly intense sex later, Jonathan watched Leeland get dressed for the interview. Luckily he had thought to lock the door so nobody could enter. The banging on the door had grown frantic during the last ten minutes, and Samantha Jones’s voice was a shrill reminder that they had to go out and face the world soon. Sighing, Jonathan went over to Leeland, who was fidgeting with the buttons on his dark red shirt that made his skin glow. He smelled of lemon shampoo and cocoa body butter and, very faintly, of sex, which had Jonathan’s possessive instincts flaring. His boy, his!

  He helped Leeland with the buttons before he tilted his head back to examine the cut over Leeland’s brow and the swelling on his left cheek. Noah Adams had gotten a few good punches in. When Jonathan thought about the bruises already forming on Leeland’s perfect body, he felt his fingers twitching with the urge to strangle Noah. Jonathan had put arnica cream on all the places Leeland had been hit and had pressed a cold pack against his cheek to keep the swelling down. Despite his wounds, Leeland looked absolutely stunning, and if there hadn’t been the interview and a party waiting, Jonathan would have brought him back to their hotel room immediately for a private celebration.

  Instead he took his boy’s hand, led him to the door of the locker room, and opened it. They were greeted by a slightly flustered Samantha Jones, who looked predatory in a bright red miniskirt, white blouse, and the highest heels Jonathan had ever seen. He was sure she needed a license for them, because they could easily stab somebody.

  “What took you so long? Everybody is waiting for the winner! Come, shoo, shoo, we don’t have time.”

  She pushed them through the endless corridors toward the press room, where indeed everybody was waiting. Jonathan saw cameras from CNN, Fox, of course, some local news stations, countless reporters for newspapers and magazines, as well as a slew of bloggers. Samantha grabbed Leeland’s wrist and dragged him to the table, where he was seated behind a forest of microphones. Jonathan waited to the side where he had a good view of his lover. The interview started with the usual. A female journalist asked: “Mr. Drake, how are you feeling after your victory?”

  Leeland showed his most dazzling smile. “To be honest, I don’t know. Exhausted, for sure; sore, definitely; happy, of course. I don’t think I’ll be able to fully grasp what has happened today until I’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

  “Are you referring to the insults Noah Adams has so liberally spread on social media about you? How does it feel for you, as a gay man, to have won this championship?”

  The question was from a bulky man in his late forties, if Jonathan had to guess, and from the way the man was smirking, Jonathan just knew he was expecting something juicy. Damn vultures!

  Leeland furrowed his brow and chewed on his lip while he composed his answer. Jonathan could tell from the way his boy’s shoulders had gone tense that he was contemplating if he should stay polite and evasive or if he should give an honest answer. Apparently honesty won.

  “I don’t see what one has to do with the other. Or, no, that’s wrong. I do see what one has to do with the other, at least for the media and most people out there. But for me, these two things are separate. What Noah Adams said about me, and queer people in general, were terrible, hurtful insults against me as a person, and I resent him for it. Still, it wasn’t the gay that won the fight today. It was me, Leeland Drake, a martial arts fighter who happens to be gay. The question is, what has my sexual orientation to do with my performance in the octagon? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And I would wish those with power in professional sports would see it like that as well. Does being gay make me a better fighter? No. Does it make me a worse fighter? No, as you have all seen today. The things that define my fighting are my trainers, my body, my talent, and the people who support me. It has nothing to do with my sexual orientation. I didn’t win as a gay man today. I won as an athlete who has put a lot of effort and hard work into getting where I am now. I’m aware that being gay and an athlete will be an issue for a long time to come. I just wish it wasn’t, because it has no influence on the actual performance of the athlete except for the additional pressure everybody is putting on them.” Leeland smiled again, this time with a hint of mischief. “And yes, I do feel a tiny bit smug about having beaten a man who seems to never think before he speaks.”

  The assembled journalists chuckled, clearly amused. They had a few more questions about the training and even the arson. Leeland managed to get Misaki’s and Garrett’s names in, which was great PR for them. Then the last question was announced, and it came from Leandra Donnell.

  “Is it true that you’re resigning now?”

  Jonathan saw Leeland turn his head, and their gazes met. The smile on Leeland’s face was one of pure joy and love.

  “Yes, Leandra, that’s true. I only acted as a stand-in for an injured athlete, and I can’t wait to get back to actually eating something that isn’t disgustingly healthy.”

  Again the journalists laughed. Lea
ndra grinned. “I guess I know what you’re going to do once you’re out of this room.”

  Leeland didn’t comment. He got up, and Jonathan hurried to his side. He could hear the shutters of countless cameras clicking, but it was the last time. It wouldn’t take long for them to slip back into the anonymity of a normal life, and Jonathan couldn’t wait.

  They followed Samantha out of the arena to the car that would drive them back to the Bellagio, where Smash! had organized the party. When Samantha had finally realized that Leeland was friends with the Dean Connelly, best-selling author and husband to Richard Miller, one of the most influential businessmen in the US, as well as Collin Malloy, aka Rainbow Snake, she had gone out of her way to make them attend. Keeping Dean’s and Collin’s identities a secret from her hadn’t been easy, but Richard and Martin had managed to do so until shortly before the championship match. How Samantha had connected the dots, Jonathan didn’t know, and it didn’t matter anymore. Leeland’s time in the spotlight was almost over. Richard had originally planned on organizing his own party for Leeland, but when Samantha agreed to invite all the men from Whisper, he hadn’t hesitated to leave it all to her.

  And she had outdone herself. The party was tasteful, with a minimum of Smash! logos on the walls, waiters who carried champagne flutes through the crowd, and a delicious buffet with finger foods from all over the world. Of course, everybody wanted to congratulate Leeland and talk to him. Jonathan made sure to stay close to his boy, because he could see how the exhaustion was catching up with Leeland now that the adrenaline from the fight was finally starting to subside. It was still nice, though. Being among their family and friends, listening to the good-natured banter and heartfelt well-wishes, helped Jonathan to see all the good that had come with Leeland’s time in the UFC, and it put the bad—the lack of time they had for each other, Noah Adams’s homophobic rants, the fire in Misaki’s gym—into perspective. Being with a professional athlete was not what Jonathan wanted to do for the rest of his life, but it had been an interesting experience.

  They didn’t last long. After two hours of hugs, handshakes, smiling, and nodding, Jonathan sensed that Leeland was close to falling over. He lifted his beautiful lover up and carried him bridal style, to a background of catcalls and whistles, to the elevator that would bring them to their suite.

  It was time for bed.

  Chapter 22

  A week later

  “THAT WAS perfect.” Peyton stretched like a cat before he let himself fall down on the lounge next to Leeland. “You were right about the pedicure. I feel like I’m flying.”

  Leeland just grinned. At the moment Dean was getting a massage, Curtis was in the sauna with Emilio, Collin, and Seth, and he was waiting to be picked up for his own pedicure. Dean’s idea to spend the day at the spa before having their movie night had been a stroke of genius. Leeland could get used to it. His fingers ghosted over his cheek. The swelling had gone down, and except for a light soreness here and there, Leeland felt as good as new.

  “What film do you think Seth has chosen?” Leeland glanced over at Peyton, who was busy admiring his perfectly lacquered toenails. The mint green went surprisingly well with Peyton’s lightly tanned skin.

  “I have no idea. He’s making a big secret out of it, which is kind of suspicious. I fear the worst.”

  Leeland snorted. “You always fear the worst.”

  “If Vin Diesel isn’t in it, how can it be a good movie?”

  “What about Viggo Mortensen? You like him well enough.”

  Peyton threw his hands in the air. “Fine. Lord of the Rings does have its moments.”

  Leeland grinned. Teasing Peyton was fun. “And I do remember you laughed quite a lot when we watched The Stepford Wives.”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, Nicole Kidman was actually good in that one. And I adore Bette Middler.” Peyton threw Leeland a look. “And don’t think I didn’t see you wrinkling your nose when Emilio put on Hocus Pocus.”

  “That film is fine. It’s just, ever since she played Carrie Bradshaw, I can’t watch Sarah Jessica Parker in any other film. Always makes me think she’s dressed like a slob. And you have to admit, those witch clothes aren’t exactly flattering.”

  “You don’t seem to have that problem with Sean Murray.” Peyton folded his arms over his chest.

  “Because he’s a cat most of the time. No weird associations there.”

  “You associate Sean Murray with a black cat and think that’s normal?”

  “Shut up, Peyton.”

  Peyton stuck out his tongue. “Only because I’ve seen what you can do when you let loose.”

  “What are you two bickering about?”

  Dean’s voice had that faraway quality he got when he was either blissed out from a scene or had just had a full-body massage. Leeland knew this because Richard had once complained that Dean reacted to a scene the same way he did to a treatment. Leeland found that highly amusing, though he would never dare tell Richard to his face.

  “We were just wondering what kind of film Seth has chosen for tonight.” Peyton was back to looking at his toenails as if they were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

  “We’ll find out soon enough.” Dean shrugged. The massage had obviously relaxed him completely. “It can’t be worse than some of the movies you’ve put us through.” He looked pointedly at Peyton, who rolled his eyes in his best drama-queen mode.

  “Why are you all criticizing my taste in films?”

  “Because the films you like are, unlike the houses you design, trash.”

  Curtis’s smooth British accent stood out, as always. Leeland loved the way Curtis talked. He could listen to the man for hours. That he also had a beautiful, full voice only added to the charm.

  “Boys, why don’t you sit down and enjoy the peace and quiet?” Seth interrupted, putting emphasis on the words “peace” and “quiet.” “You’ll find out soon enough what kind of movie I’ve chosen, and I promise you, you’ll like it.”

  “Peyton says that every time we come over to his place, and it has yet to happen. You have to give us a bit more.” Leeland grinned broadly. Teasing Seth was almost as much fun as teasing Peyton.

  Seth just flipped him off. “Emilio, do you want to go for a swim? I feel the need to get away from these bickering bitches.”

  “Who-ho, bickering bitches! What an alliteration!” Dean was laughing so hard, his body shook with the effort.

  Emilio looked between Seth, Peyton, and Leeland, shrugged, and grabbed a fresh towel from his bag.

  “Okay, let’s go. I do have permission to eat as much as I want tonight, but a little extra training surely won’t hurt.”

  Leeland saw Seth’s expression freeze. “Uhm, Emilio, I meant swimming as in ‘paddling around while talking,’ not as in actually, you know, swimming.” Seth sounded a bit frantic.

  Emilio grinned. “Too late. Besides, a bit of training never comes amiss.”

  He started sauntering toward the outside pool, giving them all a full view of his taut little ass. Groaning, Seth hurried after him. Dean shoved Leeland until he could sit down at the side of his lounge. “Damn. All that training looks good on him.” He made a face. “Though I think lately he sounds a bit too much like Garrett.”

  Leeland grinned halfheartedly. He still wasn’t sure what to make of Emilio’s relationship with Garrett. On the outside everything seemed perfect. Emilio was thriving under the attention of his strict master and seemed to be perfectly happy, but Leeland couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was not as it should be. He just couldn’t put his finger on it, and it drove him crazy.

  “I liked the sauna. It was hot but good. Do you think we could build one ourselves? There’s this spot in our backyard that could do with a little something, and I could try and build a real sweat hut with logs and everything, and Curtis, did you know wood is such a great material to work with, I have so many ideas what to do with it, only Martin says I can’t have a chain saw, but I
really need one, and can you explain to him how important that is?”

  Collin looked at Curtis with puppy eyes. Curtis sighed and patted the younger man on the shoulder.

  “I’ll see what I can do for you, but really, Collin, chain saws are dangerous. I think you should find somebody to teach you first. Maybe then Martin wouldn’t be as averse to the idea.”

  Collin beamed. “That’s a great idea! I’m going to ask Mike and Jeff. They know everything about tools!” He turned, no doubt to get his cell and call the two men, but Curtis stopped him.

  “Don’t you think that can wait until tomorrow? Our hara massage is in ten minutes, and then we only have one more hour to relax before we have to face whatever movie Seth has chosen for us.”

  Collin seemed torn, which had Leeland biting his lips to keep himself from laughing. He always enjoyed Collin’s enthusiasm for learning and expanding his knowledge.

  “Fine. Massage first. But I’ll call them tomorrow as soon as I wake up!”

  Curtis and Collin waved at Leeland, Dean, and Peyton before they went to get their massage. Five minutes later Leeland was picked up for his pedicure, and two hours after that, they entered Seth’s apartment for the first time.

  It mirrored Seth perfectly. His home was close to the Keys, and the front window in his living room looked out onto the water. On the ground level, everything was open except for a small bathroom, which made the place look bigger than it was. A stair led up to the second floor, where the bedroom and a huge bathroom with a walk-in shower and a Jacuzzi tub were located. The last room served as an office/storage room, which had Peyton visibly cringing. He hated nothing more than wasting perfect living space. Amused, Leeland watched as the interior designer tried to keep his mouth shut. Seth’s tastes ran toward masculine elegance, with a hint of something more playful here and there. The massive black leather couch would have probably smothered the room if it weren’t for the colorfully quilted cushions on it, each of them unique. The huge flat-screen TV with the PlayStation and the impressive surround-sound system screamed man cave but was countered by the sewing machine in the corner. All in all, Leeland found Seth’s apartment quite cozy and could easily imagine them spending more time there.