Chapter Eight
The first thing Ezra expected from Roman when they woke up the following morning was to assume the position. Roman rolled onto his stomach, turned so his head was close to the wall, and his ass was up and hanging out from the bed. Part of him considered his options, considered walking out of the cell this second, but he wondered how many men would be there waiting to laugh, waiting to pounce. Roman conceded with his thoughts and adjusted a bit more.
He was still sore but found his muscles, at the very least, didn’t carry the weight of lead after a few hours of real sleep. Ezra slapped Roman’s ass a few times, instructing him to properly position.
“Bitch pose, please,” Ezra said with a demanding knuckle pop on the small of Roman’s back.
It was paradoxical. Everything about Ezra was. He wouldn’t force himself on Roman, willing him to be a consenting member of this arrangement, even though Roman would never willingly subject himself to this.
Accepting the instructions, Roman moved his knees slightly, keeping them at the edge of the bed. He pushed his butt up some and arched his back as much as he could bear. Once he’d done that, the lube bottle squirted a few times, Ezra spit on his hand, stroked himself hard, and unceremoniously rammed his cock into Roman.
When Roman yelped, Ezra chuckled and rutted faster into the man. Each thrust hit harder than last night, with Roman’s hole so sore. Roman moved his hand, blindly searching for Ezra, who hammered away behind him, and with a gentle touch, Roman pressed against the man’s lower abdomen, hoping to silently convey a need to ease. Ezra ignored the plea, wrapping his hand around Roman’s wrist and twisting it behind his back.
“Gimme the other one,” Ezra demanded, now holding both of Roman’s arms behind him at the small of Roman’s back as he took in all of Ezra. “Let me hear you, baby.”
Roman’s head hit the wall a few times, adding to the pained grunts he let out as Ezra pounded away at his rear.
“Clench,” Ezra demanded, releasing Roman’s wrists and palming at his ass instead.
Ezra squeezed Roman’s cheeks and spread them to give himself a clearer show of Roman’s hole. Roman felt the pace pick up once Ezra did that, believing he took some extra satisfaction in watching his cock bury from head to base inside Roman.
Doing as instructed, Roman clenched his hole and lucked out. Ezra didn’t drag out the morning fuck like he had last night’s first time, relishing Roman’s groans and tightened hole. After five brutal minutes of fucking Roman’s ass, Ezra growled. His legs flexed, and he slammed one fist into Roman’s lower back, then he grabbed Roman’s hair to yank his head back. The action demanded a deeper arch, which Roman offered. Finally, Ezra’s hips twitched and bucked as he came inside Roman.
Roman lay there in position, feeling the cum drip from his sore hole. He didn’t move because Ezra hadn’t instructed him to do so, and whether he realized it or not, he’d quickly become obedient to the other man’s demands. The worst part of sitting here, keeping his ass exposed while his body trembled from the morning sex, was how his own cock throbbed so close to climax but not quite there. Ezra wanted Roman to understand his pleasure wasn’t a priority, and Roman quickly realized he needed to ensure Ezra achieved climax as soon as possible.
After Ezra finished what he was doing, he rushed up close behind Roman and stuck his hand on Roman’s hole, which elicited a startled groan. He wiped his fingers on the goop dripping out and brought his hand close to Roman’s mouth.
“Good source of protein. Eat up,” he said. No. He demanded. Everything from Ezra was a demand. One Roman could reject. But he’d already seen where he’d go if he rejected Ezra’s friendship. In order to save his own skin, to live and survive in this place, he needed Ezra’s clout. It was bad enough Ezra had already stripped Roman of every shred of authority he had in this place, but now, without Ezra watching over him, others would come for Roman. The entire cellblock had quieted outside last night, eagerly listening to Roman get fucked. He could imagine a dozen men who’d easily try to bitch him out if he lost his protection, if he lost his friendship with Ezra.
“Thank you.” Roman swallowed the salty load covering Ezra’s fingers. He sucked on them, doing his best to savor the taste of Ezra’s fingers over the taste of cum and ass.
“Yummy, right?” Ezra playfully winked and pulled his hand away.
“Yep.”
“Glad you like it.” Ezra jabbed his fingers into Roman’s tender hole—eliciting a wince—and dug deeper than needed, unnecessarily so. He withdrew and brought a bit more of his load close to Roman’s lips.
He rubbed his fingers along Roman’s bottom lip, sticking them in the space between his gums. He stared silently at Roman the entire time, waiting for a reaction, or at least Roman suspected as much. There was a lot Roman couldn’t do anymore now that he’d handed the reins of his life to Ezra, but he could control his reactions. When he wanted to shout or wail while Ezra fucked him, he did his best to muffle it to a grunt. When tears threatened to pool down his face, he resisted them with all his power and stayed strong. When he wanted to recoil at the taste in his mouth, he remained steady. Roman rotated his tongue over Ezra’s fingers and licked at the cum.
Ezra smiled. “Such a good boy.”
Roman sucked on Ezra’s fingers until they were clean.
“Get dressed,” Ezra said. Correction, demanded. “We have a long day ahead. You’re with me while we move about. Don’t speak to anyone. Don’t speak unless I tell you to. Don’t step more than three feet from me. Always stay behind me but in my line of sight. Understand?”
Roman nodded.
“Such a good boy, indeed.” Ezra playfully slapped Roman’s face, cupping his hands around Roman’s cheeks before sliding them down to his neck. “Hmmm. I think when I fuck you tonight, I’m gonna test how well-behaved you can be. Would you like that?”
Roman nodded.
“Yeah?” Ezra tightened his grip around Roman’s throat. “You’d really let me do anything to you, huh?”
Roman nodded, his face turning red, but he fought to keep his expression blank and unchanging.
“Kiss me.” Ezra’s eyes locked onto Roman, waiting.
Roman moved closer, Ezra’s hands still around his throat but allowing him to lean in. Without delay, he gave Ezra a light smack on the lips.
“Kiss me like you mean it.” Ezra’s grip tightened.
Roman kissed him again, this time parting his lips and letting his tongue rotate over Ezra’s. The rough stubble on Ezra’s face grazed Roman’s.
“Kiss me like your life depended on it.” Ezra squeezed just a bit more. “Like my lungs hold the air you crave, the breath you need, the love you lost.”
Roman kissed Ezra again, forcing himself to invade all of Ezra’s space. His teeth bit, his tongue licked, his lips smacked. Without second-guessing, Roman crashed into Ezra, straddling him, pressing his hands against Ezra’s chest, and pinning him. He grinded against Ezra, every cell of his body almost as hungry as his mouth. Each second roused both men, each second tangled their bodies more, and each second swept Roman away a little more. Roman felt his own erection pressed to Ezra’s stomach and a new rock-hard throb from Ezra against his exposed hole.
Finally, they parted just enough so Roman could await his next request, the next kiss Ezra would demand, the fuck he’d order.
“I love how quickly we’ve become best of friends,” Ezra said, releasing his grip on Roman’s neck before playfully palming Roman’s butt. “Come on, I wanna grab a shower.”
Roman obeyed and silently followed him out of the cell so they could begin their morning routine. Keeping quiet was easy. Shame stole the words from Roman’s mouth every time he wanted to speak.
Too many people studied Roman as they walked naked into the showers. He could feel the judgment, could taste the smug satisfaction carried in the whispers about him, and he could hear the cutting asides about Roman being a bitch, a bottom, a fruitcake, and a lot uglier words he never would’ve tolerated as champion.
It used to only take one cutting glare from him to silence a room. Now, when his gaze locked onto someone for even a fleeting second, it brought smiles and laughter to faces. He was alone and broken, and everyone celebrated his defeat and devastating downfall.
Eyes shot from Ezra’s lean, muscular frame and then to Roman’s hollowed-out form. He still had muscles, still had strength, but his size had dwindled after three months of irregular and inconsistent meals in isolation. His mass had fallen after losing his workout routine and only ever exerting himself in an arena as a masked nobody who people cheered would die.
He also felt so much smaller now that Ezra had fucked him. He only stood two inches above Roman, yet Roman felt as if he had to look up to meet Ezra’s gaze.
Water splashed against Ezra’s tight abs, and he didn’t even flinch at the rush of cold water. He stared at the empty shower beside him, his eyes instructing Roman to take the spot. Roman washed up, ignoring the stares of others when Ezra invaded his space and scrubbed his back.
“Gotta get all the spots nice and clean,” Ezra said playfully, rubbing his hands over Roman’s butt. He didn’t stick his fingers inside him—he didn’t have to, everyone already knew—but Roman nearly collapsed. Somehow, Ezra noticed this and gripped Roman’s hips until he steadied. “I got you. I will always have your back.”
“ Yeah, so you can fuck me into submission, ” Roman thought, shooting Ezra an angry glare as he recovered.
Ezra ignored the sour expression, which Roman was certain he noticed based on the cool pause on Ezra’s face before it lit up with a big smile.
“You mind getting mine?” Ezra spun around, exposing himself to Roman and waiting for a thorough scrubbing.
Roman ran his soapy fingers over Ezra’s muscular back, rubbing his deep bronze skin clean from top to bottom. When his hands moved to the small of Ezra’s back, he thought back to how much force Ezra had single-handedly put into shoving Roman into a deeper arch. He wondered how easy it’d be to shove Ezra down and steal back a bit of his pride.
He’d never win. He couldn’t beat Ezra at his best, and he certainly couldn’t beat him now that he’d been bested. Roman swallowed the shameful thought, finding himself disgusting for considering a blitz attack, a cowardly advance to snatch a temporary victory.
When Ezra’s hand reached back and tugged Roman’s hands, they shook in the firm grasp. Ezra guided Roman’s hands further down, and Roman washed Ezra’s butt, cock, balls, and thighs before they each returned to their own bodies.
Roman kept his eyes fixed on Ezra, studying him, studying the body he’d spend his days pleasuring, doing his best to learn more about this man. He had several small scars similar to Roman, but unlike Roman, he had a lot of random tattoos. Nothing seemed too important, too meaningful, but he did have a random black bar across his butt.
“What’s the deal with that?” Roman gestured to his own ass in the place of Ezra’s tattoo.
“Oh, man, the things a pretty lady can talk you into are infinite.” Ezra grinned ear to ear while recalling this woman, whoever she was. “I wonder what things you’ll convince me to do, babes.”
Roman bit back a snarl and glowered.
Ezra chuckled, puckering his lips at his babes before continuing. “I considered putting ‘Total Regerts’ over her name but figured there wouldn’t be enough people seeing this fine ass to catch the joke.”
No regerts, the ultimate juvenile humor of irony. It almost made Roman smirk. Almost.
“Guess I should’ve taken this into possibility.” Ezra waved a hand, looping his finger in a circle as if to indicate the shower room of inmates who’d see his bare ass every day.
With that, they returned to their showers and finished up before stepping out into the line of men drying off.
“Someone’s looking a bit humbled this morning.” Jake the Snake strutted through the showers, letting his dick bounce.
Roman didn’t look. He knew that was what Jake wanted. It was something he’d done countless times before, boldly standing in the nude, flaunting his tattoos and muscles, waving his cock around for all to see.
“Didn’t realize you had so much art.” Ezra nodded, checking out Jake’s numerous tattoos. “Makes me itchy for some new ink, too.”
“I know some folks here if you’re serious.” Jake smiled.
“What do you think?” Ezra asked, nodding to Jake’s tattoos. It came with a silent demand to check out Jake’s tattoos, pieces Roman had already seen on more than one occasion, but he found himself obediently obeying Ezra’s request.
Jake’s tattoos were colorful and bold and murderous across his skin, some of enraged beasts and others of bloody women and a few vulgar words scrawled in various fonts. All in all, Roman thought it made Jake look like an evil rainbow. It was the serpent tattoo that normally caught Roman’s eye, so big and bold, slithering around Jake’s back and abdomen, even over a few of the other tattoos. The snake didn’t cover them, didn’t replace them, merely obstructed viewing on a few as if the snake had a greater purpose. Unlike all the others, the snake was black and white, and the lack of color aside from deep shading created a stark contrast to the other tattoos.
Roman didn’t know if Jake’s nickname or the tattoo came first, but considering how often he bragged about having a big snake-sized dick, Roman figured he just leaned into snake imagery more over the years. The tail of the snake started the tattoo built into one of the V cuts of Jake’s abs. It continued slithering around Jake’s back, looping around his left arm, crossing down Jake’s ribcage, and reaching past Jake’s abdomen and to his left thigh.
Roman grimaced at the prominent fangs on the serpent’s mouth, the way it looked ready to launch off Jake’s skin and attack. He also found it bizarre how Jake picked that particular location, noticing Jake’s cock hanging so close to the snake’s open mouth.
When the thought of how awkward or uncomfortable it’d be to suck the cock of someone while staring at that tattoo the entire time crossed Roman’s thoughts, he blanched. He’d turned ghostly white, face warped in confusion and obvious discomfort. Never. Never in his life had he wondered something so outlandish. And even though his mouth belonged to Ezra, the thought of sucking another man’s cock, the idea of it, should never pass through his head. Not even as a fleeting horror.
“See something you like?” Jake asked, drawing Roman’s eyes up and winking. Jake wasn’t a mind reader, but Roman knew he made his discomfort obvious. He could feel it, surprised the words weren’t spelled out across his face. “I’d be more than happy to give you a taste of the snake.”
Roman didn’t respond. He waited for Ezra to say something, but instead, he stepped away to grab towels.
“You wouldn’t believe the strings I had to pull to arrange for front-row seats in your cellblock last night.”
Roman ignored Jake’s cutting comments, his lustful gaze, his menacing smirk, and his sadistic lilt of joy.
“You sounded so sweet when you were getting dicked down by the champion. I listened quite closely.” Jake sounded like a serpent. Not with a hiss as he spoke, but his words had this subtle slither to them, how they slipped in and struck with a venomous surprise.
Roman knew he’d been quite vocal from the mix of pained pleasure from Ezra’s brutal fuck. Ezra wanted him to be noisy, wanted to announce his deflowering for all. Roman knew everyone had listened and hollered with satisfaction at him getting railed out. But it still wounded him to be confronted, to be called out, to be looked down upon with no pity or kindness. The only thing Jake wanted was to make Roman relive last night and offer himself up as a new cock for Roman to serve.
“I wonder how good you’ll sound with my dick inside you,” Jake leaned close and whispered. “I can’t wait until the day you choke on my cock.”
Roman trembled. Part of him wanted to punch Jake, clock him right here, and beat him to a bloody pulp. Another part of him worried. Too many men here relished in Roman’s downfall. Too many might interfere. Normally, Roman only had to worry about cheering or jeering when someone foolishly picked a fight with the champion. But now he had to worry about others stepping in, stepping up, smacking him down. Most of all, he didn’t know if he had the strength to fight Jake off right here. He was exhausted and sleep-deprived, and the shame of where his life had spiraled weighed heavily on his shoulders. Roman wasn’t sure he could even lift a fist in protest.
“I’m gonna enjoy breaking your holes when you’re finally mine,” Jake said with absolute certainty.
He’d never hid the fact that he wanted to bend Roman over. He’d gone through polite advances, smug come-ons, threatening, postering, scare tactics, and so much more over the years. Roman always managed to fight him off, to beat him back, to shrug off his diluted antics. But now Roman worried Jake would take him here and no one would stop him.
“That’s not going to happen, buddy.” Ezra slapped a hand on Roman’s shoulder, snapping him away from his fear-spiraling thoughts and back to the reality of things. “I don’t plan on sharing.”
“Maybe a trade.” Jake shrugged with non-committal indifference, but his eyes were hungry as they locked onto Roman’s naked body.
“There’s nothing you have that I want,” Ezra said.
“I got a pretty nest egg, some connections, and honestly, the way I heard you wearing out that ass, you should probably trade him in for something better. Champions deserve the best.” Jake winked at Roman. “I like my things a little worn for wear, anyway.”
“I don’t think you understand,” Ezra continued with this almost perplexed expression. “Roman is my friend. I would never do something like that to my friend. Sorry, but as long as we’re pals, there’s not a thing in the world you have that I want.”
It was a haunting comment. Ezra spoke so genuinely, so matter-of-factly, Roman almost believed the sincerity in the words. But they weren’t sincere. Ezra’s friendship was merely a ruse to veil the horrible things he did to Roman. Things Roman consented to, things he willingly allowed from Ezra. It was this warped manipulation that continued messing with Roman’s head. The longer he dwelled on it, the more confused he got.
Ezra’s strokes were brutal and filled with hate when he pumped into Roman last night, but there was a tenderness to how he kissed Roman, an affectionate desire in his tongue when it parted Roman’s lips. It didn’t make sense. But Ezra continued going late in the night after they’d dozed off once, asking how close Roman was, waiting for a response, then changing his strokes to bring Roman off a second time without Roman even needing to touch his own cock.
Roman wasn’t curious—not when it came to Ezra—but he was so confused. Still, even if he were unknowingly gay, bi, something in the middle, he’d never willingly submit, never give someone that level of control over him. Yet he had. He had, and it felt nice. At least in the sense he could breathe easy again. He didn’t have to fight every second of the day just to survive; he could give the reins to someone else and let them keep him safe and secure. He hated himself a little bit for thinking such things, for being weak, for failing.
“ What’s that dumb expression? ” Roman thought. “ Caught between a rock and a hard cock. ”
The silly musing almost brought a smile to his face, but he couldn’t find the humor in anything anymore. He knew that wasn’t the saying, but it was for him. The rock being The Pit, an arena of death, and a farewell to Levi’s safety. The hard cock being Ezra literally pounding Roman into his place, showing everyone his superiority as the new reigning champion of the arena and parading a phony friendship.
Roman had found himself so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed Jake take his leave. Ezra nudged Roman.
“Come on,” he demanded as he did with all the things he said, though there was a kindness in his tone.
Roman couldn’t and wouldn’t make sense of Ezra. Right now, all he hoped to do was survive him.
Ignoring everyone else’s comments, Roman followed Ezra to get dried and dressed and then through the cellblock until they arrived at the gym. Ezra strolled through to the private section reserved for the champion, a perk Roman had lost once he lost his title. He didn’t know if Ezra wanted to actually workout for an upcoming match or if he simply wanted to gloat while Roman stood on the sidelines.
“Ready?” Ezra gestured at the treadmills.
The champion’s gym wasn’t anything noteworthy, but unlike the main gym, which mostly consisted of outdated weights and hazardous machines, the champion’s gym had some nice equipment. It wasn’t a lot of stuff, but enough to make the room cramped and easily allow for a small group to workout together.
When a small group entered, Roman flinched, worried they’d come to challenge Ezra, worried they’d come to challenge Roman. Everyone knew this place was off-limits.
“Howdy.” Ezra waved them inside, allowing them to survey the area. “Come on in.”
“What’re you doing?” Roman hissed in a concerned aside.
“Returning some territory and making some allies,” Ezra whispered, a friendly smile on his face for the arriving men but a cutting glare for Roman.
Technically, the champion’s gym wasn’t for the champion alone, but it had become that way once Roman took the title. After Jake and some of his crew ambushed Roman after a workout, he fought them off, broke a few noses, and put both of Jake’s arms in slings. Once he’d fended off the threat, he marched into the warden’s office and made the demand the gym belonged to him. It belonged to the champion. If other arena contenders wanted to train in there, they could gladly face off against Roman in the arena for the opportunity.
Roman sighed, recalling how much weight his voice used to hold, remembering the authority in his demands, the confidence in his walk, how tall he held himself.
When he stirred out of his depressing thoughts, he found Ezra locked in idle chitchat with the other men.
“Yeah, we’re getting in some cardio to work on our stamina,” Ezra playfully said, reaching out to grab Roman’s waist. “This one’s got a lot of energy.”
When Roman tensed at the hold, Ezra strengthened his grip and pulled Roman closer. He bumped Roman’s butt against his crotch and made a show of the action.
“I should probably focus on my next match-up, but gotta make sure my bestie is in top shape, too.”
The other men nodded and went to go workout, eyeing Roman the entire time.
“We’ll start with cardio, then something to keep those glutes in fan- fuckable -tastic form,” Ezra whispered, then slapped Roman’s butt and squeezed. “After that, you can join me for a sparring session. I got a match against Victor Fox this week. I’ve heard he’s a wiry fucker.”
He was, and Roman knew that. Victor wasn’t particularly strong, but he was good at evading blows and holding out until his opponents tired out. Roman thought of all the ways Victor could best Ezra in the upcoming match. He ran on the treadmill and fantasized about Ezra’s inevitable downfall, the joy he’d take seeing him knocked down from the pillar of strength he’d shoved Roman off of. A smile crept onto his face as he ran faster and faster, wondering who would come for Ezra on that day. Who would ruin him the same way he ruined Roman. Then, a realization struck him, and he nearly tumbled over.
If Ezra lost, if Ezra was bested, Roman lost his protection. He’d bound his lot in life to Ezra, surrendered himself to the man, and used the clout and respect he had as the new reigning champion to shield himself.
“You okay?” Ezra had stopped running, too, legs straddled on the edge of the fast-moving machine and eyes locked onto Roman’s shaky stance as he did the same.
“Yeah, just thinking of ways you can exploit Victor during your next match-up.”
Ezra smirked. “Look at you, looking out for me.”
Roman shrugged and resumed his workout.
“We’ll be best friends soon. Just you wait.” With that, Ezra continued his workout, and Roman recoiled in his skin.
Friends didn’t do what Ezra did. Friends didn’t force someone into a compromised position. Friends didn’t exploit vulnerabilities and manipulate consent. Friends didn’t take satisfaction in the pain of their friend.
Roman knew all this. He hated Ezra with a passion. He was disgusted by how his sole responsibility in life had become pleasuring Ezra. Satisfying his cock. Willing himself to swallow Ezra’s dick. Bearing through gritted teeth as Ezra railed him and filled Roman’s insides.
All the same, every gentle touch clouded Roman’s thoughts. Every kind word confused Roman. Every gesture, smile, and act meant to loll Roman into a false sense of security worked to slowly chip away at his willpower.
He knew nothing Ezra did was out of friendship, the statement a blatant and cutting lie. Still, terrible thoughts about what friendship really was crept into his mind. Friends protected each other, which Ezra did. Friends helped each other, which Ezra did. Friends took an interest in each other, and Ezra craved conversation with Roman.
Roman focused on his fitness and moved from cardio to weights. Ezra hadn’t been lying about training his glutes. Roman worked on his arms a bit, but mainly just a few reps to keep the muscle tone there. Eventually, a routine like this would make Roman more lean, probably thinner than Ezra. While Ezra focused on adding muscle. Roman wondered if Ezra were that methodical, if he’d really considered their exercise routine for the day purely as a precursor to trading their physical stature.
All in all, while Roman worked on his squats, Ezra came up behind him and steadied his form.
“A few weeks of this and that beautiful bubble butt will look even better.” Ezra winked. “If that’s even possible.”
Roman’s stomach twisted. He didn’t mind being ogled. He didn’t even mind when other men would check him out at the gym. He used to find it flattering when gay dudes wanted a piece of him. But now that he’d given up that piece of himself, been used and worn out to the satisfaction of Ezra’s needs, Roman couldn’t help but recoil a bit. He hated being a cheap fuck toy for Ezra. He hated committing so diligently to a workout routine that’d only make Ezra happier. He hated knowing Ezra would rake his hands over his body again today and use him until he climaxed and then use him again and again and again. Most of all, Roman hated that he allowed this, that he committed to this proposition because he was too weak and frightened to walk away. Roman hated himself more than anything else.
They moved from the private gym to a small, spacious sparring room that was mostly bare except for the training mat. Ezra directed them right into training. They sparred for a while, and Roman studied Ezra’s technique. He seemed so insurmountable after besting Roman twice in the arena, but during this training, nothing about Ezra’s style appeared grand. Yes, he had a good form. Yes, he knew how to use his weight and the weight of opponents in his favor. Yes, he was quick and good at improvising. But none of that seemed outside the realm of Roman’s own abilities. They seemed like equals more than anything, yet Roman found himself beneath.
“You mind doing me a favor?” Ezra asked.
“Aside from going easy on your sloppy right swipes.” Roman froze, eyes wide and face frantic.
He hadn’t meant to call Ezra out, hadn’t meant to poke fun at his technique. It seemed like something friends did, but Roman and Ezra weren’t friends, no matter how much Ezra continued to demand they were now that he had Roman.
“See, this is why you’re gonna be so much help, buddy.” Ezra grinned, unfazed by the jab. “I was hoping you could kind of slow down your defense. I wanna test out some moves, but you’re probably not the right opponent for them. Like you can do basic maneuvers and such, but don’t focus so much on your guard.”
“You just want me to take it?” Roman asked, an edge of irritation threatening to escape.
“Come on,” Ezra said with a happy lilt. “We both know you’re good and just lying there and taking it.”
Roman fumed, prepared to protest, and considered punching Ezra squarely in the throat, but he paused. No, he didn’t pause. He hesitated. He froze. He slumped a bit, realizing how quickly and how far he’d fallen that he’d allow someone to speak to him in such a way.
“I’m just teasing. It’s what friends do.” Ezra poked Roman in the stomach, tickling Roman to provoke a response, but Roman simply glared. “I’ve had a lot of match-ups since you were in solitary. Most of the guys are good, but none are as quick with their guard as you are.”
Roman almost smiled at that. Almost.
“I just wanna test a few moves.” Ezra insisted, a gentle pleading in his voice.
Roman expected it to be a demand, a command, but even though Ezra spoke with absolute authority, he also always offered Roman a choice. It felt like a trap every single damn time.
“ Fuck it, ” Roman thought. “ How much worse can things get? ”
And with that, Roman agreed to slow down and allowed Ezra to try out some of his new moves. Three body slams in, Roman regretted the choice he’d made. Not all that different from any other choice he’d made in life. Ezra took full advantage of Roman’s blanket permission and total submission on the sparring mat and pummeled his partner with a flurry of swift strikes.
Pain radiated like a web spread across Roman’s muscles. He would have bruises everywhere by morning.
When Ezra kicked Roman in the chest one final time, the blow knocked Roman off his feet and knocked all the air out of his lungs. He lay on the mat, wheezing and doing his best not to curl into a ball from the pain.
Ezra stood over him with his legs straddled at Roman’s sides. “You look absolutely fucked.”
“Yeah,” Roman hissed, biting back a wince. “That’s what happens when you volunteer to be a punching bag.”
“You look absolutely fuckable, too.” Ezra stared with his hands in his pockets.
Roman eyed the bulge in Ezra’s grey sweatpants, the sadistic look of excitement in Ezra’s eyes, and the hunger in Ezra’s sly smile.
Roman pushed himself up, checking the sparring room to make sure Ezra hadn’t invited others in here, too, like he had with the rest of the champion’s gym. Knowing he had little choice, he rolled onto his stomach and hoped Ezra would finish fast.
“Whoa, look at you. So eager to please.” Ezra tugged at Roman’s sweats but didn’t pull them down as he lowered himself onto Roman, sitting with his boner pressed between Roman’s cheeks, the only thing separating the two of them being their sweaty clothes. “I love how committed you are, how willing and ready to meet my needs you are.”
Roman ground his teeth. He wanted to tell him to fuck off or to just get it over with, but he knew whatever he said would only result in a longer, more grueling fuck.
“Wish we had the time.” Ezra smacked Roman’s butt. “No worries, though. I will take full advantage of your hungry holes later.”
With that, Ezra hopped off Roman and actually helped Roman to his feet. Once they were both standing, he squared Roman’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes.
“Just remember, you’re mine now.” Ezra held Roman’s hand firmly, keeping him pulled close to his body so the sweat and heat practically melted the two men together. “You’re my friend, and I will protect you at all costs. But I want you strong. I want you at your best.”
Roman tsked. The idea of being anything seemed an impossibility.
“Just because I broke you,” Ezra said, “and I know I did, doesn’t mean I can’t fix you, too.”
“Why bother?”
“Maybe I like the idea of two champions standing tall together.”
“As long as one knows his place and bends over for the other?”
“Exactly.” Ezra smiled. “We’d be an unstoppable duo.”
That reminded Roman of his plans for Levi, plans for his friend to join him in the arena and stand tall as a warrior, too. But it never panned out. Levi was always too gentle, too kind, too soft for fighting. Roman hoped he was okay. Hoped Ezra had been true to his word.
“Or maybe you wanna build me back up because you know the next fall would break me beyond repair.”
“Hmmm.” Ezra studied Roman. “That would be bad.”
No amount of consideration gave Ezra’s intentions away but instead left Roman with more theories and worries and paranoid delusions. All he really knew at the end of the day was that Ezra wanted Roman, and now he had him. How he wanted him, Roman was still unsure. Why he wanted him, Roman speculated on.
“Guess I’ll have to hold tight and make sure you don’t lose your balance.” With that, Ezra slung an arm over Roman’s shoulder, and the pair walked out of the gym toward the next appointment Ezra had planned.