by Nikko Lee
Whenever he looked at Jaime, Tyler thought of his best friend’s younger brother. The kid followed them around everywhere. They got him into more trouble than he could dream of, but Ben and Tyler were always there to bail him out. And Jaime definitely looked like he could use someone to watch his back. While his skittish nature brought out the protective side of most of the women in class, it was like waving a red flag in front of the young men who thought harder and faster were the only ways to win a fight. Their bravado was their shield. Tyler loved stepping into the ring with one of them and seeing their confidence deflate at the sight of his belt. Sparring was as much mental as it was physical. And everyone had some challenge to overcome.
Tyler spotted Randy kneeling in front of a red-cheeked white belt from the children’s class. The boy was no more than seven and sniffled as he nodded. Randy gave the boy a pat on the back and sent him on his way to his waiting parents.
“How did the kids’ class go?” Tyler asked Randy.
Randy shrugged. “Should a room full of rug rats be more terrifying than a black belt testing panel?”
“On a good day.” Tyler smiled. He was grateful when Randy had received his black belt and took over as Sensei Melissa’s assistant for the children’s class. On a good day, they were a handful. On a bad day, there wasn’t enough ibuprofen to dull the headache their screaming induced. “What happened with Jake?”
Randy glanced at the boy who bowed at the edge of the dojo on his way out. His face was still beet red, but the trail of tears on his cheeks had dried.
“He got into a fight at school,” Randy explained. “He didn’t start it, but he sure did finish it.”
“What was the fight about?”
“Some kid was picking on a girl in his class and Jake took exception to it.” Randy shrugged. “Kind of hard to chew a kid out for acting on his instincts to protect someone. He’s just got to learn to use his words instead of his fists.”
“That’s probably the hardest lesson to learn.” Tyler added as Jake headed toward the changing rooms.
Tyler could sympathize. When Tyler had started taking karate, he had a hard time controlling his temper. Seemed like every other day he was jumping into other people’s fights and making them his own. He learned quickly the best defense was an aggressive offense. It was great for the schoolyard brawls Tyler could defuse just by acting tough. It wasn’t so great when he stepped into the sparring ring. As soon as someone hit him, he’d be all over them. Tyler had been on the losing side so many times he fought with everything he had as soon as he felt threatened. It took years of training to realize no one in the dojo was going to hurt him, at least not on purpose. He learned to cherish the blows that struck their mark as much as the ones he blocked. Karate training was a continuous learning process.
When Tyler became a black belt, Sensei Melissa took him aside and explained that helping others was as much his duty as his own training. Over the years, students came and went. As long as they walked out of the dojo having learned something about themselves, he felt he had lived up to Sensei Melissa’s words.
“Line up.” Sensei Melissa’s voice called everyone to attention.
* * * *
By the end of class, Jaime was tired and happy to bow out. Sensei Melissa was feeling particularly energetic and ran them through a double set of basics. Jaime was among the many kyu-ranked students shuffling out of line like zombies, stiff-legged and groaning from the effort. When the floor was almost empty, he took advantage of the space to practice his kata. It wasn’t until he finished that he noticed Sempai Tyler was the only other person still on the dojo floor in uniform.
“Sayonara, Sempai.” Steve and Ed said in unison as they bowed at the door.
“Sayonara,” Sempai Tyler returned their bow. “Good class.”
Jaime ignored the scowl Steve gave him. He hoped Sempai Tyler had missed it or thought it was only a matter of jealousy about another student sucking up by staying after class. A certain level of competition was common among students of different ranks. As long as Jaime didn’t have to sit through some uncomfortable talk about how he should stop being himself to make others more comfortable, he could put up with a few dirty looks.
“What’s the story between you and Steve?” Sempai Tyler asked Jaime as soon as the dojo door closed behind Steve and Ed. “The two of you don’t seem to get along.”
Jaime’s gaze remained fixed on the floor. This was not a conversation he wanted to get into in any detail. Better to play it off as nothing serious. He liked Sempai Tyler enough to give him some explanation.
“I don’t think he likes working with me.” Jaime shrugged with the trace of a wry smile on his lips. “Must think I’m contagious.”
“What?”
The joke sounded a lot more serious saying it out loud. It would be easy to be jaded and bitter, but life was too short for that. He sighed and shrugged.
“Nothing,” Jaime mumbled.
“You mean he thinks he might get gay if he trains with you?”
As Jaime feared, Sempai Tyler knew exactly what he’d meant and didn’t pull any punches about calling Jaime out on the unspoken. The expression on Sempai Tyler’s face was so honest. Amusement built up in Jaime until he let out a lyrical laugh.
“Something like that, Sempai.” Sempai Tyler seemed to appreciate Jaime’s reaction. “Straight guys always worry about doing something I’ll think is gay. Because there’s no way I’d be able to keep my hands off them.”
“I’m sure you’ve got better taste in men than Steve.” Sempai Tyler spoke in an unguarded tone.
“Much better,” Jaime agreed.
“Is that why you don’t change with the other guys?”
Jaime’s smile faded. Another uncomfortable topic Jaime would have preferred to avoid. Sempai Tyler had a way of dragging him into plenty of uncomfortable situations and conversations. It was tempting to close off and refuse to speak about things that were difficult to face. However, he wasn’t sure he could do that without coming off as a complete jerk. The last thing he wanted to do was make things weird between him and Sempai Tyler.
“Guys get a little edgy around me, especially when it comes to taking off clothes.” Jaime shrugged. “I don’t want to make trouble.”
Sempai Tyler frowned, although Jaime couldn’t figure out what he’d said that would trigger that reaction.
“It’s your changing room as much as theirs.”
When Jaime looked at him, the bile taste of anger rose in the back of his throat. Only well-practiced resignation washed it free.
“Are you saying you wouldn’t be nervous getting undressed in front of me, Sempai?”
Sempai Tyler’s lips twitched with a suppressed grin. He seemed to actually be enjoying pressing Jaime in conversation just as he did on the dojo floor.
“Granted, I’m pretty irresistible.” Sempai Tyler puffed up his chest. “But I’m sure I could put up a good fight if you tried to take advantage of me.”
This time Jaime barked out a sharp laugh that drew an irreverent smile from Sempai Tyler.
“How about we do some sparring before you try to seduce me?”
Jaime nodded. “Hai, Sempai.”
* * * *
As soon as they got their gear on, they bowed and faced off in the center of the dojo. It didn’t take long for Jaime to get a little more aggressive with his attacks. Tyler could see him trying some of the moves they had learned in class that night. Unfortunately, his distancing and timing were still off. Tyler used the opportunity to work on some kicking techniques.
The first roundhouse kick caught Jaime off-guard and stopped just shy of his head. He acknowledged the strike, and they returned to their beginning positions. Jaime was a quick study and, unlike other white belts, knew when he was defeated without Tyler having to beat it into him.
Tyler should have known better than to try the same move twice in a row, but he didn’t think Jaime was paying that much attention. As soon as Tyler’s kick ne
ared, Jaime stepped in and caught Tyler’s leg on his shoulder. With a quick sweep, Tyler was falling. Instinctively, he grabbed the lapel of Jaime’s gi. If he was going down, he sure as hell wasn’t going alone. His weight dropped back, Tyler pulled Jaime over him. He weighed even less than Tyler thought. With little effort, Tyler launched Jaime as he hit the ground. At best, Jaime would dive roll and end up several feet from Tyler. He’d have plenty of time to regain his feet.
Instead of letting go as he rolled, Jaime pulled Tyler along with him. A clumsy cartwheel landed Tyler on his back with Jaime on top. Before Tyler could push him off, Jaime pressed a forearm against Tyler’s throat. Jaime’s wide eyes watched Tyler with such intensity, Tyler wondered what he was expecting to see. Whether he searched for anger, fear, or resentment, Jaime never relented his hold.
The first spike of panic hit when Jaime cut off Tyler’s airway. The weight of Jaime’s body on Tyler’s chest burned into his muscles. Tyler knew he wouldn’t black out for another thirty to forty seconds. Plenty of time to find a weakness in Jaime’s hold. A shift of his hips only served to bring Jaime’s face inches from Tyler’s. Those brown eyes of his were filled with concern, but he sank into the shift and increased the weight on Tyler’s throat.
By the time Tyler realized he was completely helpless, his vision was starting to close in. In the instant he tapped frantically against Jaime’s back, the chokehold was released. Exhilaration flooded Tyler’s senses. There were few things as satisfying as being soundly defeated by someone he knew in his gut would never hurt him.
Air filled Tyler’s lungs as Jaime shifted. He settled, straddled across Tyler’s ribs, concern and triumph mixed in equal parts in his eyes.
“Did I go too far?” Jaime asked.
Sitting on Tyler’s ribs, his weight was more a comfort than a burden. Every breath that filled Tyler’s lungs lifted and lowered Jaime.
Tyler shook his head, still trying to catch his breath and unable to look away. A wicked grin crept over Jaime’s lips. He was so confident and triumphant. It was beautiful. Tyler wiped that thought away as soon as it occurred to him. Men weren’t supposed to find other men beautiful. Strong, powerful—hell, even handsome. All could have described Jaime in that moment, but only beautiful came to mind.
“You know I like it rough.” Tyler choked the words as much from embarrassment of his thoughts as the scratchy feeling in his throat.
A crimson flush suffused Jaime’s cheeks. He tried to hide his reaction by looking away as he stood up.
“I should probably get going,” Jaime muttered and avoided direct eye contact.
“Yeah, me, too,” Tyler said as they bowed. “Jenny’s expecting me to come over tonight.”
“Girlfriend?”
Tyler nodded. “She doesn’t like it when I’m out too late.”
They headed down to the changing room. When they got there, Jaime moved to grab his bag and leave.
“Didn’t I tell you I’m immune to your charms?” Tyler said without looking at him.
“Sempai?”
“I don’t mind if you change in here.” Tyler undid his belt and took off his gi top.
Jaime stopped in the doorway, clutching his bag to his chest.
“Unless you think you won’t be able to resist me.” A smile was all it took. Jaime exhaled the breath sharply.
“I’ll do my best, Sempai.”
There were certain unwritten rules when guys got naked around other guys. Rule number one was not making direct eye contact. Peripheral glances were unavoidable, but the gaze should never linger more than a few seconds. Tyler’s idiotic ego was almost disappointed when he looked up to see Jaime focused on his bag as he changed. Whatever the unwritten rules were for gay guys, they didn’t seem much different than those for straight guys. Neither of them spoke as they changed. Tyler was not sure what he was expecting, but Jaime didn’t behave any differently than the other guys. It wasn’t that Tyler was expecting Jaime to jump him; Jaime was too polite for that. Part of him wondered if he just wasn’t Jaime’s type. The rest of Tyler chastised the former for even thinking the thought.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Tyler said once they were both changed and headed outside of the dojo.
“Sure, Sempai.” Jaime spoke without hesitation.
“Out of uniform, I’m just Tyler.”
Jaime nodded, a relaxed smile on his lips. “Okay, Tyler. What do you want to know?”
Tyler hesitated. The more he worked with Jaime, the more Tyler was convinced he belonged in the dojo. The problem was Jaime would have to get over his nervousness around the other guys if he wanted to hang around. His trepidation and hesitation only brought out their aggression. Tyler doubted any of them would be openly hostile with Jaime, but it was the little slights like being last to get a partner or being excluded from the changing room camaraderie that would wear on Jaime. Eventually he would get discouraged and leave. Tyler couldn’t force the other guys to like Jaime, but he could make sure Jaime didn’t back down from them. Tyler was confident that, if he stood his ground and demanded equal treatment, the other guys would have to respect him. If not, it wouldn’t be long before Jaime could handle any one of them in a sparring match. As hardheaded as Steve could be, he had to respect skill.
“Why do you have such a hard time working with the guys in class?” As soon as Tyler spoke the words, Jaime’s smile faded. “You have no problem sparring with me.”
Jaime shrugged. “I guess you don’t seem to have a problem with the fact that I’m gay.”
His voice trailed off before he finished the thought.
“Sensei Melissa would never let anyone get away with bullying you.” Tyler wanted to reassure Jaime, but he wasn’t sure how.
“I don’t want to make trouble for anyone.” Jaime’s eyes drifted back to the dojo. The sadness in them spoke of more distant and painful memories.
“Sometimes trouble is worth making,” Tyler replied and put his hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “It tests character and reveals strength.”
“Thank you, Sempai.”
“Tyler.”
“Tyler.”
The way Jaime smiled softly as he said Tyler’s name elicited an uneasiness in him. Tyler pulled his hand away. The heat from their contact still burned the palm of his hand.
“I’d better get going. Jenny’s going to be pissed as it is.” Tyler said quickly. “See you next class.”
Chapter 3
Over the next few weeks, Jaime and Tyler sparred after every class. Jaime was a quick study, and it wasn’t long before Tyler stopped treating him as a beginner and started treating him more like an equal. Tyler still had a good enough advantage that he usually wasn’t worried about Jaime getting the upper hand. That was until they went to the mats. Even though Tyler’s groundwork was improving, Jaime could always manage to get him so tied up Tyler had no choice but to submit.
Those precious moments between getting pinned and tapping out seemed to last a small eternity. Tyler’s pride and stubbornness wouldn’t let him admit defeat until he had explored every possible avenue of escape. A few times Tyler managed to reverse the situation and give Jaime a taste of his own medicine. Those victories were clumsy, fumbling efforts that looked like child’s play compared with Jaime’s grace and fluid strength. As much as Tyler wanted to win, there was something about being trapped against Jaime’s body that thrilled him. Muscles taut and straining, the rise of Jaime’s chest matching his own. In that moment, the separateness of their bodies vanished. Jaime matched whatever moves Tyler made as if he knew Tyler would make them before he did. Though Jaime could have easily broken Tyler’s arm a hundred times over or dislocated his knee, Tyler never doubted he was safe in Jaime’s grasp. His holds were firm and unyielding. With incremental pressure, Jaime brought Tyler closer and closer to the edge of his pain tolerance. Jaime always knew exactly how much Tyler could take and wouldn’t let him get away with experiencing anything less.
It was exhilarating in
the way that good sparring matches and hard workouts always were. Tyler’s body craved the contact that was—brutal and rough, sensual and all consuming. Even as he struggled to free himself, Tyler never wanted the moment to end. His whole being—physically and spiritually—was focused on every inch of contact between his body and Jaime’s. There was no difference between Jaime’s arm and Tyler’s arm, Jaime’s chest and Tyler’s chest, Jaime’s hips and Tyler’s hips. Several times Tyler had felt Jaime’s cup dig into his ass. The intimacy of the contact, which was anything but sexual, still evoked flashes of naked flesh pressed against each other. Those kinds of flashes weren’t unfamiliar to Tyler regardless of who he was working with. They were just a part of his body’s reaction to the close contact. He knew better than to dwell on them, even though his cock often swelled in response. Knowing Jaime was gay made those thoughts seem all the more natural. Tyler often wondered if Jaime shared them, but he never mustered the courage to ask.
When testing time came around, Tyler was eager to see Jaime prove himself. Tyler was confident the time he’d put in sparring with Jaime would pay off. Jaime still preferred to partner with him or one of the women in class. Even though he had started using the changing room with Tyler after their sparring sessions, Jaime still arrived at class in his freshly pressed uniform. As much as Jaime had started to relax with Tyler, he still kept his guard up around the other guys in class. That wouldn’t matter during testing. Like it or not, Jaime was going to have to spar with everyone who was testing, including Steve.
“Pair off for free sparring.” Sensei Melissa gave the command after a grueling set of basics.
The students who were testing paired off while the rest of the class moved to the perimeter of the dojo floor to watch. There were more pairs than black belts, so Tyler would have to keep his eye on Jaime from a distance. His first match was with Sam. Despite being over fifty and a body that had lived life to the fullest, the realization that she wasn’t getting any younger motivated her to join the dojo a little over a year ago. Jaime was gentle with her, using the opportunity to hone his techniques.