***
“I fucking hate you.”
“I fucking hate YOU.”
Two voices, choked with anger, growling out the same sentence between clenched teeth. The men were bookends of rage, standing face to face, nose to nose in some unused room of the arena off of the main hallway. But for them, the building was empty. It was quiet in the small, non-descript room. There was no sound at all other than the breath exiting the lungs of the two men, air that rasped harshly in the throat of each before being expelled in the face of the other.
If they were animals, beasts of the wild, they might be circling one another, each sniffing the air warily as he sized up his opponent. Claws might be unsheathed, or talons at the ready. They might be preparing to charge one another, heads lowered, defiant bellows echoing in their deep chests as they prepared to test the strength of their necks, heads, and horns.
But they were men, not beasts, and so they stood inches away from each other, legs apart and perfectly balanced, chests pushed out, fists clenched, teeth bared in twin grins of fury.
It was Todd who made the first move. Not a rearing back of his fist, or even a push; they hadn’t worked themselves up to that yet. The taller man merely dipped his head a bit, pressing his forehead roughly against Chris’, and shoved forward. Not enough to send his opponent sprawling, but just enough to make him take a step backward, to establish his own dominance. To make it clear to Chris that his, Todd’s, strength was the greater, and that if he really wanted to, he could wipe the floor with him. He kept the forehead contact as Chris stumbled back a bit, as if to say “so what do you think about THAT?”
A snarl emerged from behind Chris’ teeth, and as he gained his feet he shoved back with his forehead, and harder than he got. Harder than Todd expected, and he staggered back from the force. Giving voice to a snarl of his own, Todd pressed his forehead back against his opponent’s, who pressed back with equal force. Both were tense, upper body muscles tight, legs locked, shoulders slightly hunched, and whatever was going to break loose was going to do it now.
Neither man was sure when exactly the kiss started. As far as they could tell, both of them had simultaneously moved their foreheads away from one another, and somehow in the minute adjustments their bodies had made in the shifting of their weight to prepare to move, their lips brushed. And incredibly (or so it seemed to them), instead of flinching away, they closed their lips over their snarling teeth and pressed them together, just as hard as they’d been pressing their foreheads a moment before.
Even more incredibly (or so they thought), the kiss didn’t stop when it ought to have. Accidental kisses don’t go on for as long as theirs did. But all the tension and anger and competition that had fueled their facedown had immediately morphed into their kiss. It became more than just a touching of lips. It became about who could establish superiority over the other.
Each of them opened their mouths, driving tongues forward, attempting to force the other’s open to receive them. Both were a bit surprised to find his opponent’s mouth open and waiting and hungry. But neither stopped the kiss, and their tongues clashed, fighting with one another, as if the two men had agreed to let that part of their bodies be representative of the rest. With snarls that were now tinged with something other than rage, their bodies moved toward each other, and pressed together as tightly as their lips. Their fists unclenched, and simultaneously they reached up and took each other’s triceps in iron grips. They were not embracing each other, but instead striving to hold the other still so that the kiss could go on. Despite attempts to hold a hard and steady glare, each man’s eyes fluttered closed as the heat of each body infused the other.
They broke the kiss only to suck in breath, and then dove eagerly into the fight once more.
Soon they began to push against each other again, each trying to force the other backward and up against a wall. Todd managed to stagger them back so that Chris hit the pale-colored cinder blocks with a gasp into his opponent’s mouth. In the midst of the rough kiss that was drawing blood from both men’s lips, Todd allowed a small curling smile to celebrate his point.
With a grunt of surprise, he suddenly found himself shifted around, and as his back connected with the cool wall it was his turn to gasp. Chris had dug into the reserves of his strength, and used his leverage to pin Todd against the wall. With a grin of triumph, Chris nipped at Todd’s lips before continuing the painful, competitive kiss.
Todd scowled even as he sucked Chris’ tongue sharply into his mouth, and was tempted for a second to use whatever force was in him to turn them again, and shove Chris back against the wall where he belonged. However, just then he became aware of Chris’ stiff erection pressing against his thigh. As the rage clouding his brain began to clear a bit, he realized that there was a straining in his own pants that hadn’t been there before, throbbing hotly behind the fly of his jeans. Blood rushed down to ignite the tingling sparks in his groin to a fire. Chris rubbed himself up and down against Todd, not seeking to be seductive, but acting as if he had an itch that he needed scratched.
You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours, Todd thought vaguely, and instead of struggling to turn them around, he bit down on Chris’ tongue and reached between their bodies. He seized Chris’ collar, and with one smooth motion ripped the shirt completely in half.
Chris pulled away in surprise, and Todd took the opportunity to yank the shirt pieces from his arms. Before Chris could move, Todd’s arms were around him. Todd lowered his mouth to the tendon that joined neck to shoulder and sucked in hard. When one spot was sufficiently reddened, he moved on. Chris tilted his head back, moaning in harsh growls. His hips continued to shift of their own accord, and he lifted Todd’s shirt from his pants. Chris twisted his mouth in a smirk and dug his fingernails into Todd’s abs. He could feel sticky blood on his fingertips as Todd growled deep in his throat, and sucked his neck harder. They struggled for a few seconds until finally, with an audible pop, Todd’s lips came free from Chris’ skin.
However, as both men instantly reached for Todd’s shirt and lifted it over his head, neither man was sure who had won the battle.
As the shirt cleared Todd’s torso Chris dove in, biting sharply at Todd’s collarbone. Todd cried out in anger and lust. Anger as he felt Chris’s teeth pierce his skin, and lust as he felt Chris’s hands ripping open his jeans. Todd followed suit, tugging open the button of Chris’ pants. Both men shifted, pushing their jeans and underwear down to their ankles. Chris pulled back and they kissed roughly. Todd’s cock strained as he realized that he could taste his own blood on Cheli’s lips. Still kissing, each pulled the other tightly against him, forcing the breath from their bodies in gasps and growls.
There was no stroking, nothing that could properly be called a handjob. Instead they thrust against each other’s bodies, hips bucking sharply, with no thought other than to rub faster and harder until they found release.
Both men growled and panted into each other’s mouths. Cocks trapped between their bodies, each man gripped the other and rubbed against his and his opponent’s stomach. But the contact that sparked the hitches in breath and the extra strong thrusts was when their cocks rubbed against the other’s. The contrast between the hot, silky smooth skin and the rough movements forcing them to rub against each other was swiftly driving both men toward the edge.
Even though they had nothing resembling a rhythm, both men felt the other’s balls tighten at the same time, and each one knew the other was close. Chris came first, his voice mimicking the process of his orgasm as his low growl built to a shout. As his cock went through its spasms and coated their stomachs, Todd gave a hoarse moan. Gripping Chris by the arms so tightly that the smaller man gasped with pain through the aftershocks of pleasure ripping through his body, Todd shoved him backwards. For the second time that day, Chris’ back slammed against the cinder block wall. A split second later, Todd’s body slammed against Chris just as hard. Todd cried out harshly and came, adding to the slickness already between their bodies.
Todd leaned against him for a few moments more, until he stopped shuddering. Chris leaned back. They were forehead to forehead once more.
And then Todd backed away, just as Chris began to wriggle free.
The two men looked at each other. They had their pants down to the floor. Their stomachs were shiny with come. Their lips were a dark bruised purple. They were bloody and disheveled. Their eyes were locked on each other. There was anger, but the rage had gone out of them as their lusts were satisfied. Both men had the idea that a competition had just taken place. But it was unclear who had won.
Not breaking eye contact, the two opponents pulled up their pants, ignoring the mess. They grabbed their shirts, or in Chris’ case, what has left of his. Chris watched as Todd backed slowly out of the room. When he was gone, Chris walked cautiously into the hallway. Todd was nowhere in sight. Chris made his way back to his locker room, certain that Todd had gone back to his. Both men retreated back onto their own turf, their own territories where each was comfortable and secure.
In his locker room, Chris looked at the dark red hickies covering one whole side of his neck and shoulder, and at the handprints on his arms. He cringed. Brett was going to be upset. And if Chris knew Brett (and he did), Brett was going to be very vocal in his disapproval.
In his locker room, Todd looked at the teeth marks on his collarbone and at the bloody gouges in his stomach. He winced. Markus was going to be less than pleased. And if Todd knew Markus (and he did), Todd was in for some icy silent treatment.
In different parts of the arena, both men realized grimly that they weren’t going to be getting any from their lovers, or mates if you will, for quite awhile. But both shrugged. It hadn’t been planned. It had just worked out that way. Sometimes males fought for dominance. Sometimes men were beasts.
***
