Spar

by Nikko Lee

  “No, Sempai.”

  “Good.” Sempai Tyler struck his gloved hands together in anticipation of the next exchange. “Then it’s settled, no more holding back. Let’s spar.”

  “I’m not really good at karate yet.” Jaime hesitated. If he was pressed to defend himself, there was no telling what techniques he’d resort to. “I might slip into some judo moves.”

  Sempai Tyler shrugged. “All the better for me. My ground work doesn’t get much practice.”

  Jaime nodded and raised his hands as he resumed his fighting stance. Finding some confidence, Jaime led with a back-fist and reverse-punch combo. It was one of the first moves he’d ever learned. His body responded with a fluidity he’d forgotten. Even though Sempai Tyler was slow to respond, he blocked the attack before it had a chance of landing. Jaime didn’t even see Sempai’s fist until it struck his temple. He stumbled backward, shaking his head to clear it. The shot wasn’t hard enough to cause any damage, but it wasn’t a love tap either.

  If Sempai Tyler thought a little pain was going to discourage Jaime, he was wrong. Determination fortified Jaime’s resolve.

  The next time Jaime attacked, he moved diagonally, leaving his ribs open. Sempai Tyler took the bait and launched his attack. Instead of taking the incoming blow, Jaime slipped just out of range and grabbed Sempai Tyler’s wrist. The distance between them evaporated. With a slight tug, Jaime sent Sempai Tyler tumbling forward over his hip. In a flurry of movement, Sempai Tyler hit the ground but didn’t stop there. Jaime flipped him around until Sempai Tyler’s face was pressed against the mats.

  With one arm behind Sempai Tyler’s back and his knee pinned between Jaime’s legs, Sempai Tyler was trapped. Considering how long it had been since Jaime had practiced judo, he was surprised at how securely he’d pinned Sempai Tyler. If Sempai Tyler tried to force his way out, he would dislocate his shoulder or knee, or both.

  Suddenly Sempai Tyler let out a sharp grunt. He was pissed, and it was Jaime’s fault. He should never have pinned a higher rank. Guys hated being underneath Jaime, unless it was in the bedroom. Jaime quickly released Sempai Tyler. He scurried to his feet, palms raised to let Sempai Tyler know he wasn’t trying anything funny.

  “I’m sorry, Sempai,” Jaime muttered and continued to back up. The last thing he wanted to do was to piss off a higher rank, especially when Sempai Tyler had been kind of nice to him.

  “Where are you going?” Sempai Tyler hissed. “I didn’t tap out.”

  Jaime froze. It hadn’t occurred to him to wait for a tap out. He was sure he’d upset Sempai Tyler and didn’t want to be on the receiving end of the man’s anger and insecurity. But Jaime saw neither in Sempai Tyler’s eyes, only disappointment at being robbed of a chance to test his ability.

  “I don’t want you to cut me any slack just because I’m a black belt.” Sempai Tyler rose to his feet. “You get me on the ground again, and you had better keep me there until I tap out. Otherwise, the match isn’t over.”

  “Hai, Sempai.” Jaime was relieved. He was having too much fun sparring with Sempai Tyler.

  The next time Jaime had the opportunity to take Sempai Tyler to the mats, he didn’t hesitate or take it easy. The more Sempai Tyler struggled, the tighter Jaime’s hold became until Sempai Tyler had no choice but to give up. There was nothing more rewarding than pinning a stronger opponent and forcing him to admit surrender. Much to Jaime’s surprise, Sempai Tyler seemed to enjoy it as much as Jaime did. Each time Jaime pinned him, Sempai Tyler waited longer and longer before he tapped out.

  “Tap out already, Sempai.” Jaime’s breath was hot against Sempai Tyler’s ear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Not yet.”

  * * * *

  The pain spread through Tyler’s arm and down his side until he could feel the muscles slacken in spite of his determination to fight. The pain was both a warning and a reward. Nothing thrilled him more than finding out he could take a little more punishment before his body forced him to concede defeat. Only in the dojo was he safe to explore the limits of his body, mind, and spirit. All that punishment came with a rush of endorphins and a better knowledge of who he was and what he was capable of. That knowledge was priceless.

  Surrender was inevitable and warranted, given his inferior position. After their little chat, he hoped Jaime wouldn’t simply let him out of the hold. When Jaime didn’t even loosen his grip, Tyler smiled in spite of the pain. Now it was a matter of strength of will. To his astonishment, Jaime’s strength was much more subtle than appearances would have suggested. Finally, the dull thud of Tyler’s free hand hitting the mat signaled to Jaime to release his hold.

  With a heavy sigh, Jaime released Tyler but stayed close. Jaime’s watchful eyes remained fixed on Tyler as he sat up and rubbed his arm. Tyler was amused to see Jaime’s concern.

  “That was good.” Tyler grinned. “You’ve got to show me how to do that move.”

  Between the worry and relief in Jaime’s eyes, Tyler was pleased to see a good measure of triumph. If it were he, Tyler knew he’d be damned proud of pinning a higher rank. The more he worked with Jaime, the more he found they shared a similar spirit when it came to the tenacity required in the martial arts.

  “You’re a masochist, Sempai.” Jaime extended his hand to help Tyler up.

  Grateful for the assistance, Tyler took Jaime’s hand with the one he could still feel. The sensation was only beginning to return to his other arm.

  “Just a little.” The grin on Tyler’s lips widened. “Again?”

  “Hai, Sempai.” Jaime beamed.

  After nearly half an hour of sparring, Tyler was convinced Jaime was a keeper. Once he got past worrying about his partner, Jaime’s love of training took over. Gone was the wall of insecurity Jaime hid behind. Instead, Jaime was single-minded about the task at hand—which was whupping Tyler’s ass. When it came to grappling, Jaime had Tyler beat hands down, and he knew it. Tyler had to respect Jaime for enjoying a good pin as much as he did.

  “You really do like making me eat mat, don’t you?” Tyler asked as they went to the changing room to get out of their sweat-soaked uniforms.

  “I love anything that’s a challenge,” Jaime replied and stopped outside of the changing room. “I’ll just grab my bag and go. It’s getting late.”

  That familiar wall of nervous energy enveloped Jaime again. The confident martial artist who had spent thirty minutes toying with Tyler and wrapping him into a pretzel was replaced with a shy, hesitant boy. Jaime bolted into the changing room ahead of Tyler but only stayed long enough to grab his bag and leave. Driving anywhere in a sweaty gi, no matter how close, was not something anyone would enjoy. Jaime kept his eyes on the ground as he bowed to Tyler.

  “Sayonara, Sempai.”

  He might not have known Jaime for long, but Tyler was determined to figure out why the man was so nervous around guys. For someone who obviously loved training as much as he did, Jaime flip-flopped between cautious defensiveness to downright passivity, depending on who he was working with. This was not the Jaime he’d seen on the dojo floor five minutes earlier when Jaime had him in a choke hold so secure he would have lost consciousness if he hadn’t tapped out. All Jaime’s confidence and self-assurance were gone.

  Jaime didn’t even look up as he walked past Tyler.

  “Sensei Melissa said you trained in high school. Why did you stop?”

  Jaime turned and met his gaze with a pained expression.

  “I made a mistake.” Jaime shrugged then shook his head. “I won’t make it again. Sayonara, Sempai. Thanks for the sparring match.”

  “Sayonara, Jaime.”

  Whatever had caused Jaime to abandon his training still ate at him and kept him from being the best martial artist he could be. Tyler was more determined than ever to help him out. In helping the students, Tyler inevitably learned more about himself.

  Chapter 2

  It had been years since Jaime had felt excited about walking into any dojo. Since
Sempai Tyler had taken Jaime under his wing, Jaime had looked forward to the next class with the anticipation of a giddy schoolboy the first day of the new semester. The sessions with Sensei Melissa were excellent, and Jaime was learning a lot, but it was that time afterward when he got to spar with Sempai Tyler that made Jaime’s heart race and his palms sweat. Maybe it was more like that giddy schoolboy on his first date.

  There was a sense of dread that came from the skill deficit between him and Sempai Tyler. Jaime knew Sempai Tyler could run circles around him if the man wanted to show off his stuff. That was until Jaime could find a solid hold. Then Sempai Tyler was in for a ride that usually landed him flat on the dojo floor. Beyond the pride of pinning Sempai Tyler, Jaime also delighted in a little sexual thrill that raced through him. It was entirely inappropriate, but no matter how many times he chastised himself, he couldn’t help the feeling. Jaime had sworn off the clubs three months ago, and the sparring matches were the closest he’d come to another man besides a handshake here and there at work.

  Jaime tried not to dwell on it. Best to keep the feeling small and easily pushed aside. If he thought about it too much, he knew he’d obsess over it until he drove himself crazy. Instead he took a Zen approach of observing the feeling as it arose and letting it pass. When work dragged on and he had to listen to yet another prima donna tell him how to mix tracks, Jaime found his mind drifting to what his strategy would be the next time he and Sempai Tyler faced off. And about how he was going to pin Sempai Tyler again.

  Even as he wrapped up his last session before heading to karate class, Jaime was plotting.

  “Are they finished already?” Leila asked as Jaime deposited the paperwork from his last recording session on her desk. Leila scanned the papers. When Jaime had started, she’d saved his bacon on more than one account when he’d put in the wrong billing code or forgotten to log the session length. “Death OverLord? I bet they were real hard-asses.”

  “Piece of cake.” Jaime gave her a wink. “Hard asses are my specialty.”

  Leila gave a curt laugh, which she stifled as the band members came down the hall. Dressed head to toe in leather and chains, they looked like they had stepped out of a dystopian Mad Max future. Of course, the tats and piercings only added to the image they wanted to portray. The truth was Jaime loved working with death metal bands. They usually turned out to be the most polite and earnest musicians. Nothing like the stuck up American Idol-wannabes who would sell their mothers for a big break.

  “Sweet demo.” Shocker, the lead vocal singer with a spiked purple Mohawk, waved the CD at Jaime as he headed for the door. “Next time we get enough coins together for an album we’ll be back.”

  “My girlfriend is so going to dig this.” Pale Rider, the base player, gave Jaime the thumbs up before Axel joined him.

  “Which one?” Axel threw his arm around Pale Rider. “Got one in every city, right?”

  Pale Rider had talked nonstop about his girlfriend, BeeBee, whenever they took a break. It was actually kind of sweet. Although the other guys in the band gave him a hard time about it, Jaime could see envy in their eyes. It was the same envy Jaime felt whenever Pale Rider would rave about BeeBee’s cooking or how she could grow anything green. The only thing Jaime had waiting for him at home was a bottle of scotch and some leftovers, if he was lucky.

  “Seriously, man, that was a great session,” Lincoln said as he emerged from the sound studio carrying an amp. “Least I can do is take you out for a drink.”

  “You know I’d love to,”—Jaime squirmed at having to turn down the bearded muscle-bound hunk. He was just Jaime’s type. A bear through and through looking for a cub to cuddle—“but I’ve got karate class tonight.”

  Every inch of Lincoln was hard and hairy and as gay as a rainbow Pride parade. He just had the good sense to play it subtle. Just like Jaime preferred his playmates. If he hadn’t sworn off the casual stuff, Jaime would have taken Lincoln up on his offer in a heartbeat.

  “We’re playing at the Graveyard next month.”

  “I’ll check it out.” Jaime extended his hand.

  Lincoln’s grip was firm but gentle. All the more reason Jaime didn’t want to just take him to bed and never see the guy again, which was exactly what would happen. Jaime was never good at second dates.

  “See ya around.”

  Jaime watched Lincoln leave before letting out a heavy sigh.

  “Check my pulse.” Leila thrust her arm at Jaime.

  “What?”

  “My heart must have stopped beating, because there is no way you’d turn down a hunk of junk like that unless you’ve gone straight.” Leila shook her head disapprovingly. “And if that happens I must have died and gone to my own personal heaven. Marry me.”

  Leila made goo-goo eyes at Jaime as he batted her arm away.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Jaime knew his reputation around the studio involved some degree of infamy. Even though he was good at keeping his business and pleasure separate, word got around quick in a world of music, sex, and alcohol. “I’m just busy is all.”

  “With karate?” Leila tilted her head and scrutinized him like she was trying to decide if his body had been taken over by aliens or Christian reformists. “You don’t fool me. That guy was doing everything but pinning you to the sound board every time he came in the booth.”

  Sometimes the glass window between the reception and sound studios was more a curse than an advertising blessing. Jaime was normally so focused on his work he forgot Leila had a front row seat to the booth that was his private world when he had the headphones on. Lincoln had come in several times to check on the percussion tracks while Shocker and Pale Rider jammed. Always polite but friendly, Lincoln had seemed as interested in Jaime as he was in his tracks.

  “Do I need to call in the deprogrammers?” Leila asked and picked up the receiver for effect. “Because I will do anything to get my horny sound tech back.”

  “I’m just a little tired of waking up alone.”

  Jaime found it easy to talk to Leila. Besides her bubbly personality, the alternative was the marketing guys and execs who were duller than dishwater. Leila at least knew how to crack a smile without dollar signs flashing in her eyes.

  “I knew it.” Leila slammed the receiver and pulled open her desk drawer. Within a second, she was shoving a photo of a well-attired man in his late twenties in front of Jaime. “He’s good-looking, gainfully employed, and gay. What more could you ask for?”

  “A name and a letter of reference?” Jaime avoided taking the photos. A blind date was the last thing he wanted. The man looked perfectly respectable, and to Jaime that was one step below boring. “I’m not really in the market right now. Taking some time off.”

  “Oh, come on.” Leila sighed. “If you won’t go out with me, the least you can do is go out with my cousin.”

  Jaime frowned. “You’ve never mentioned this cousin before.”

  “Because you were such a cock hound,” Leila put her fingers over her lips too late to stop the words from coming out. “Sorry. You know I love you, sweetie, but you are, were, a dog. There hasn’t been a good-looking man who walked through this door that you haven’t seduced.”

  “That’s an exaggeration.” He might like his men toward the straight side, but he drew the line at the unobtainable.

  “Okay, I’ll give you that. But you know what I mean. You never walk out of here with the same man twice and certainly don’t show up with them in the morning.” Leila’s pent-up lecture must have been brewing for months. Her apologetic shrug didn’t soften the truth in her words. “That’s not the kind of guy I’d want my cousin to go out with, let alone fall for. He’s had his fair share of disappointment.”

  “So why are you showing me his picture now?”

  “Because you are a great guy.” Leila’s sweet smile started to take away some of the sting of her words. “You just need to realize you can do better than the sex fiends. You don’t have to wake up alone if you start thi
nking with your heart instead of your cock.”

  Jaime knew she was right, but the idea of a blind date was too cliché. He just needed to get his mind out of the bedroom altogether. Karate was certainly helping with that. Every class was exhausting—mentally and physically. When his head hit the pillow on nights when he had class, he was asleep within minutes. Sometimes he didn’t even masturbate. The physical contact from sparring was a close second to sex, and he didn’t have to worry about the awkward conversation afterward.

  “I’m going to be late for class if I don’t get going.” Jaime leaned over the counter and gave Leila a peck on the cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

  “Just think about it.” Leila waved the picture of her cousin at Jaime as he retreated through the studio doors.

  When Jaime arrived at the dojo, class hadn’t started yet. An instinctive scan of the room and his eyes locked on Sempai Tyler as he emerged from the changing room. Jaime felt the familiar quickening of his pulse and immediately clamped down the response. Maybe he should have taken Lincoln up on his offer. As it was, Jaime’s sex drive was a little too sensitive for his liking and all manner of inappropriate behaviors involving a certain sempai crossed his mind. Not that Sempai Tyler had given him any indication he was interested.

  Jaime took a deep breath and redirected his thoughts to being a good karate student. “Konbanwa, Sempai.”

  * * * *

  As soon as he stepped out of the changing room, Tyler spotted Jaime entering the dojo in his uniform. Come to think of it, Jaime always arrived in his uniform and left that way, while most students used the dojo changing rooms. Either Jaime really liked his privacy, or he was nervous about changing with the other guys. If it was the former, Tyler could understand. By the way Jaime averted his eyes whenever one of the guys passed him, Tyler had a suspicion it was the latter.

  “Konbanwa, Sempai,” Cynthia greeted Tyler as soon as she spotted him entering the dojo.

  Jaime joined in with the other students in the greeting. When he emerged from his respectful bow, Tyler was pleased to see Jaime’s eyes looking directly at him. It was a tentative glance that didn’t last more than a second, but it gave Tyler hope that Jaime could be drawn out of his shell.