Won't Back Down: Won't Back Down

by Unknown

  Layne entered the ring to the same mix of cheers and boos Kell always did, although Kell now resented it. Layne didn't care, which was always the best way to handle it. His opponent M'rAyta was a long, lean Laviian, a humanoid species that looked a bit like old Earth's mythical Sasquatch. They were muscular and bipedal, covered with thick hair, and generally, for no reason Kell could figure out, smelled vaguely of seaweed. This one had pale brown fur and a row of three small, dark eyes that seemed to glare out at the world in general and at Layne in particular. Despite their generally fearsome appearance, they didn't have the overwhelming power of a Soaraian, but they still put humans to shame. M'rAyta was also a head taller than Layne, and his fur made him look almost twice as wide, although that simply couldn't be true considering his weight class.

  As soon as the bell sounded to start the match, Kell's stomach burned. He couldn't watch this, and yet he couldn't look away. He twisted his hands together and then stuck them between his knees to keep from accidentally ripping his own fingers off. This was worse than actually fighting a Laviian himself, one in his weight class. In fact, if he could have picked between the two things, he would have picked the bout. There was no worse feeling in the world than helplessness.

  Typical for his species, M'rAyta was aggressive, surging for Layne as soon as the fight was underway, swinging his huge arms like he was trying to break a speed record. Layne was fast, though, and he was able to dodge, ducking in to land a couple of solid body blows to M'rAyta's broad chest. But he wasn't quite fast enough getting away, and was tagged with a hard left hook that sent him reeling back to the force field. Kell cringed and had to force himself to keep from looking away.

  Layne shook off the hit as best he could, but as M'rAyta closed in, Layne was able to turn into a spinning kick that caught him in the ribcage, a vulnerable spot. That made M'rAyta back up a few steps, allowing Layne to get off the field and move more towards the center of the ring. Layne landed a couple of good blows before completely retreating.

  M'rAyta threw a kick, but it just clipped Layne on the hip and spun him around. He managed not to fall back into the force field, and he recovered swiftly enough to duck a lazily thrown but still fast right cross. Layne tried a snap kick of his own, aiming for M'rAyta's leg, and while it was a good idea, he hit him just a bit below the kneecap, too far to make his leg involuntarily buckle. Since that was the whole point of a kick like that, all it did was make M'rAyta frown. Although Kell could barely see his mouth beneath the fur, any expression on a Laviian face was pretty scary, and from what little he understood about the species, M'rAyta was considered an unattractive member of the breed. Of course, being human, Kell couldn't actually tell the difference between an attractive Laviian and an unattractive Laviian. He just had to go by what other Laviians told him.

  For a couple of minutes they exchanged punches, blocks, and kicks, although nothing particularly devastating. Mainly because the shots getting through were usually partially blocked or delivered off balance as each fighter tried to find an edge and discovered it was more difficult than they'd thought. Layne took a couple of shots that made Kell ache for him, but he was holding his own against the bigger M'rAyta, whose body language was starting to betray frustration.

  He obviously thought he should have had Layne knocked flat by now. He also began making short, guttural grunts, which meant he was on the verge of losing his temper. It was a specific tell of the species, along with the bristling of the fur on the back of their thick, short necks. Of course, with his dense dark hair, it was kind of hard to visually tell if his fur was bristled or not. Much of it was matted from sweat, and Kell could just imagine the smell. For some reason, Laviians had a smell not unlike boiled cabbage when they got sweaty, which always struck him as kind of strange. He always anticipated something musky and feral, mammalian, and yet they had an odd vegetable odor about them.

  Pushing M'rAyta to distraction was part of their game plan. Yeah, it was dangerous, as driving a Laviian into a frenzy was never the greatest idea, but an emotional fighter was a sloppy one, especially if their emotions had a tendency to run away with them. M'rAyta was throwing haymakers, huge punches with all his weight behind them, and some partially connected, making Kell wince as he watched. But Layne hung in there, landing more body blows as M'rAyta started losing his patience and abandoning his strategy. Still, Kell couldn't help but wish he was in the ring, absorbing the blows for Layne, as blood started trickling from Layne's nose. He staggered from a few heavy punches to his face and torso, and Kell had to swallow a lot of rage and sorrow. If only he could schedule a match between himself and M'rAyta, even though he knew the fights weren't personal.

  M'rAyta moved in and landed some spectacular, hard body shots that Kell could nearly feel as poor Layne slipped sideways to avoid hitting the force field, but M'rAyta started to get cocky, and that left him open to a sharp elbow to the jaw, followed by a knee in the midsection. Once he'd doubled over, Layne gave him a knee to the face that made M'rAyta fall back into the force field.

  "Don't let him recover," Kell said, even though Layne couldn't hear him. It didn't matter, as he and Layne had trained well, and Layne quickly snap kicked M'rAyta in the solar plexus, following up with one of his wicked upper cuts to Mr'Ayta's oversized jaw. M'rAyta reeled, stumbling, and Layne kicked his legs out from under him, sending him toppling to the mat.

  Kell jumped to his feet, hands balling into fists. He wanted to run down the hall and join him in the ring, and while he could ignore the impulse, his body still responded to it.

  Layne kicked M'rAtya in the face, snapping his head back and making him roll towards the middle of the ring. Layne then elbow dropped on M'rAyta and got him in a sleeper hold, locking his elbow around his narrow but somehow thick throat. An effective hold was difficult on that species, but he and Layne had worked on it. It could be done, it was just hard work.

  M'rAyta attempted to squirm out of the hold and then do what Yosi had done to Kell yesterday: use his superior body strength to hurt him. Layne had stunned him sufficiently enough that he couldn't quite work up either the energy or the will to do it, however. Finally, he tapped out and the bell sounded. "The winner, and new Featherweight Champion is Layne Ortiz!" the announcer crowed, and the crowd let out a roar that was half cheers and half boos, although it just sounded like one big wall of noise.

  Layne, sweating profusely as well as still bleeding from his nose, raised his fist in triumph. He was breathing hard, and it looked like his left eye was already starting to swell, but Kell would have said he'd never looked more beautiful in his life.

  Kell let out a shout of triumph, warmth swelling inside his chest, and he knew he couldn't keep it contained. Yeah, maybe he was normally taciturn, but he couldn't be now.

  He ran out of the locker room, startling some of the cameras loitering in the hallway awaiting Layne's return, and sprinted out to the ring. By the time he got there, the force field was down, and Layne was exiting. Upon seeing Kell, his bloodied face lit up with a big grin, and he jumped into his arms.

  "You did it, baby!" Kell said, hugging him so fiercely he had to make sure not to crush him. The crowd was a dull roar in the background, like waves crashing against a beach.

  Layne was giggling with excitement. In spite of the pain and the blood still trickling from his nose, Kell knew this was what he'd been working for and training for nearly half his life. "We did it, baby," he replied. Although there was pain in his eyes, it was submerged beneath the bright triumph. They kissed passionately, both ignoring the sweat and the blood that made their skin tacky.

  Yes, there would be trials to come, and the future was as uncertain as it was unwritten. But for now, they were both champions, and they had each other. That was more than enough.

  ROUND THREE

  CANIS PROJECT

  KISH SWANSON

  "Smile, boys."

  Liam grinned into Alex's eyes and hugged him tight around the shoulders. The camera beeped, clicked, and capt
ured Liam and Alex still facing each other: Liam with his bleach-blond dreadlocks, Alex with his blond-streaked black hair tousled around his face, both of them with the same hazel eyes fixed on one another. Most of the time they would be contrary and pull stupid faces right at the lens, but today they were too thrilled to do anything but smile from ear to ear.

  "Let me get another one. Wait, wait." Serena fiddled with the dial on top of the camera. She'd just upgraded to a new model, one that had been on the market for five years already. The twins had been pestering her for ages to buy a camera that had been made within the last decade, and she had finally found one online and bought it just in time to document their move.

  This meant, of course, that she didn't know how to use it yet.

  Liam snickered. Alex dug an affectionate elbow into his side. "Mom?" Alex started forward. "Let me help."

  He took the camera from Serena. She stood on her toes to look at what he was doing, and they both started prodding. Liam slipped his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans to watch for a minute. Alex had a way with electronics; he tended to poke at buttons until they stopped working, and then he called Liam in to help.

  Liam's lips quirked up in another smile, a tiny, fond one this time. Alex's nose wrinkled when he was frustrated or confused, and he was en route to both. On cue, Alex looked up and beckoned. "Liam!"

  "Thought so." Liam pulled his hands out of his pockets to jog over. He bent his head in toward Alex's to study the slim, silver camera because Alex wouldn't want to give it up. Alex never gave up when he had his mind set on something. "You have to set it back on photo mode. It's on video now," said Liam as he tapped the touch screen. "There. Easy."

  "But it wouldn't take a picture when it was on photo mode before." Alex tugged at the camera. "Let me see."

  "No, don't press anything." Liam laughed, holding on tight. "It's fine."

  Alex stuck his tongue out at Liam, playful. "You always think you're Mr. Fixit."

  "I am," Liam asserted. "That's why you put up with me."

  "So true." Then Alex leaned in and lowered his voice. "Of course, there might be one or two other reasons…"

  Serena clapped her hands. "All right, no more whispering secrets in front of your poor old mother. Let's get some of these boxes inside."

  Liam slung his arm around Alex's waist, confident that no one would see that, at least, as more than a brotherly show of affection. But Alex knew. He tipped Liam a tiny smile and brushed his fingers over Liam's hand where it had settled at his waist. Then Alex ducked his head, almost shy.

  More than anything, Liam ached to tuck the dark, loose strand of hair that had fallen over Alex's eye back behind his ear. Then he wanted to kiss the pale curve of Alex's neck and nose at the glimmer of silver that was Alex's single, dangling earring.

  They would have time later, he promised himself.

  He pressed his thumb to the scanner pad at the apartment building's front door. They had opted for an off-campus apartment in the heart of the city rather than dorm rooms. Here, no one would bat an eyelash when one of the bedrooms went unused.

  "Careful, Mom," said Liam, leaving Alex to hold the door while he steadied the box Serena carried. "You should've let me take that one."

  "I'm not that old and frail, Liam." Serena gave him an amused smile and nodded back toward the moving van. "There's a heavier one still in there."

  "So you can prove how manly you are," Alex put in. He squeaked, laughing when Liam jogged back to poke his side.

  "I'll show you how manly I am," Liam threatened.

  "Oh, I'm so scared," said Alex, and he laughed again, his laugh higher than Liam's and almost musical. He walked with Liam back to the van now that Serena had disappeared inside. Liam shuffled in his loose jeans, but Alex skipped next to him, happy and unselfconscious.

  "Gonna prove to me later how manly you are?" Alex whispered as they unloaded boxes full of DVDs. He wore a wide grin that made Liam break into a matching one.

  "Haven't I already done that?" Liam bumped Alex's shoulder with his, lightly as always. Alex bruised at the drop of a hat; so did Liam, but he never noticed or cared. He did notice and worry over every new bruise on his twin, though.

  "You could do it again," Alex teased. "Christen the place." He shifted his box to one hip, carrying it like a baby so he could swipe his thumb at the door.

  It clicked open, and Liam caught and held it for him. Alex gave him a brilliant smile and stepped into the hallway painted pristinely white with a faded mural on the wall to their left. When they'd taken a tour, Alex had loved the mural on sight, a panorama of the university buildings against the city skyscape. Liam loved that Alex loved it and so they'd reserved their room.

  They walked into the second apartment on the right, the first place they could call their own.

  *~*~*

  Alex draped over him and Liam smiled lazy and loving up at him. The overstuffed couch, patched many times over, had come with the apartment. They both fit on it with room to spare.

  Now that the boxes had all been stacked up inside and Serena had driven home, Liam could cup Alex's face between his hands. His fingers slipped through Alex's soft, dark hair, and he tucked it behind each ear: left, then right.

  "Mm." Alex pressed into it. He rubbed his cheek against Liam's fingers like a cat. "I love our new place."

  "I love you." Liam skimmed his thumb over the delicate skin beneath Alex's eye. Alex's lashes fluttered.

  "Love you, Liam," Alex sighed. "More than anything." He dipped his head and kissed the corner of Liam's mouth. Then he chained more kisses along Liam's jaw as Liam stroked down to the hem of Alex's shirt, riding it up the sleek plane of his back. Alex arched against him and their hips rubbed together in slow revolutions. "Prove it now?" Alex asked, his voice breathy.

  Liam laughed, low and pleased. "We should unpack," he murmured unconvincingly.

  "Screw unpacking," said Alex. "I want you in me… mm…" The muscles around his spine flexed as Liam stroked them, pushing the shirt up further. "In me, in our apartment, Liam."

  "We can do that," Liam said, his voice hoarse, his belly tight with need. Alex could make him hard in under a minute. He could make Liam come in under five if he wanted to. Eighteen-year-olds didn't have much stamina, but Alex didn't seem to care. Liam could make Alex come in under five minutes, too.

  Liam cradled Alex's back and rolled to lay Alex out under him. Alex gasped at first as he found himself pinned below Liam, then he laughed, bright and pleased. He sank into the couch cushions, opening his legs to let Liam fit between them as they rubbed their open lips together.

  They exchanged heated, unhurried kisses. They wouldn't be caught here so they didn't have to rush. Liam reveled in it, hiking the front hem of Alex's shirt up to thumb over his dark, pink nipples. Alex moaned and the nipples peaked under Liam's fingers. They flushed to a deeper red as Liam pinched and played with them then ducked down to close his mouth around one of them, suckling it through his lips.

  "Liam. Liam!" Alex clutched at his dreadlocks, panting. "Liam, oh, fuck, please."

  "We'll fuck," Liam breathed the promise against Alex's collarbone and nipped it. "Make love in our place."

  "Please, yes, please." Alex's head tipped back and Liam kissed a path up the line of his throat.

  They lost clothes in a flurry: Alex's shirt, tight jeans, and little briefs; Liam's baggy jeans. Alex pushed Liam's flannel shirt up and worked his cock out through the slit in his boxers. Liam hissed and bucked as Alex whispered, "I want to suck it, Liam. Let me."

  "No—no, later," said Liam, breathing roughly. He would come the second Alex's lips touched him. "Later, if you want me to get in you."

  "Oh, god." Alex nodded, flushed and eager. "Come on, in our new place, on our new couch." He canted his hips up with Liam's length still in hand, and he rubbed the head of Liam's cock over the skin behind his balls, along his crease.

  Liam grunted and bucked against him, his cock fitting perfectly between Alex's ch
eeks. Alex moaned then let out a broken sound, reaching for Liam when he knelt up. Liam grasped Alex's hand and gave it a brief squeeze. "No, no lube. We need lube."

  "We don't, I can take it." Alex's cheeks had high points of color in them, and his eyes were dark and dazed.

  For just a second, Liam hesitated. Then he stroked Alex's bare belly and shook his head. "Be right back." He wouldn't risk hurting Alex, no matter how desperate they were.

  He dug through a box labeled Liam's Bedroom Stuff. He'd put the bottle of KY close to the top, right under his alarm clock. He'd known they'd need lube today. Happy Alex meant needy Alex, and needy meant he needed Liam's cock in him.

  Liam palmed the bottle and hurried back to the couch, shucking his boxers and socks on the way. Alex had a hand on his rosy cock, his thighs still spread wide. His hazy eyes locked on Liam as he worked himself. His tongue flickered out across his red lips. "Liam," he breathed.

  "Alex." Liam climbed over him, scrambling a little. Alex laughed, breathless, and wrapped his arms around Liam to stroke his back.

  "I'm here," Alex whispered. "I'm yours."

  "I know," Liam whispered back, voice husky.

  Liam covered Alex's mouth with his as he coaxed him open with slick fingers. Alex's lips parted for him with a shuddering sigh. They shared a deep, searching kiss while Alex rocked his hips, impatient for it. His hole stretched easily to accommodate the digits Liam fit into him, somehow. It always amazed Liam how Alex could be so tight but open so readily to him.

  "Come on, come on, Liam, please." Alex broke the kiss with a restless turn of his head. His nails dug into Liam's sides. "Liam," he groaned. "Now. I'll come if you don't."

  He squeezed around Liam's fingers and Liam's breathing stuttered. Liam pressed into Alex one more time, all the way in, and Alex jerked. His cock left glistening trails of precome over his own belly and Liam's thigh. "I'll come," Alex threatened, almost a sob. "Liam!"