JiminQueens2's blog

The buzzer sounded. Toweled and watered, the two men prepared to resume their battle. It had technically been personal before, but now it was absolutely personal for both. Both men were starting to feel the animosity they’d felt in high school but never had an opportunity to truly express in the best way they could – physically.

The bell rang for Round 6.

Two bruised, battered warriors lurched towards each other to resume their battle. Most of their technique was gone now; exhaustion and punishment had robbed them of anything other than basic reactions and attacks. But it had not robbed them of their physical strength, proved by the hard left Johnny threw into Ryan’s cheek that had him seeing stars, or the flurry of hooks Ryan sent into Johnny’s belly that the other man gasping for breath.

What had begun as a boxing match was now a slugging match, as the two exhausted bulls unloaded their most powerful shots on each other. Johnny’s fists were proving heavier, as all through the round, he drove Ryan back, either trapping him against the wall or else chasing him around the “ring”. Ryan gave as good as he got – mostly – but it was clear that Johnny had recovered from the two knockdowns and was dominating this round.

The bell ringing to end the round was the sweetest sound Ryan had ever heard. Gasping, he lifted his glove, and Johnny tapped it in response. The two men made their way to their corners, and Ryan wondered if he had enough left in the tank for the final two rounds. He hadn’t worked this hard in a long time,

Johnny’s thoughts were an echo of Ryan’s. He had a stitch in his side that was making its presence known, telling him that it wanted a rest and a minute wasn’t going to cut it. But Johnny looked over at the man facing him, the man with whom he’d been going to war for the last twenty-three minutes, and swore that if he went down, he was going down swinging. No “too tired to go on” bullshit.

The buzzer sounded. “If you want to quit, I’m fine with that,” Johnny called to Ryan.

“Eat it,” Ryan jeered back, cupping his crotch with one gloved hand. “Round fucking seven, asshole. Let’s fucking go.”

The bell sounded. Somehow, the exchange had given the men new energy, which showed in their technique. Their movements were more precise, their punches crisper, than they had been in the previous round. Fewer roundhouses, more jabs and hooks. Johnny peppered Ryan’s face with jabs, but Ryan’s hooks were doing a world of damage to his relatively unprotected body. A couple of clinches here and there as the two men rested in each other’s arms, gasping for breath, but each one secretly enjoying the best workout he’d had in a very long time.

But as they broke after one of those clinches, Ryan came in with his hands just a fraction lower than they should have been, and Johnny took advantage of the opportunity. A right hook smashed into the side of Ryan’s face, spinning him around, and down he went. “DOWN!” came the command from Johnny, and Alexa began its merciless count.

Ryan was sorely tempted to lie there and let Johnny take the win. His body ached horribly and his head was spinning. But there was still some fight left in him, and if Johnny was going to knock him out, he was really going to have to knock him out. Otherwise, this fight was going to go on. By the time Alexa reached “seven”, Ryan was on his feet and shouting “UP!!!!”

Johnny waded in, hooks coming in so fast that Ryan couldn’t block them all – so he didn’t try. Instead, he just started throwing hooks of his own, and the two men stood chest-to-chest, their fists swinging in to target ribs and bellies, and leaning into each other to keep from going down. Short, pained grunts were the only “words” between them as they fought, and their breath was hot on each other’s faces.

Neither of them even heard the warning buzzer, so when the bell rang, each one was still throwing a punch that landed after it sounded. Johnny shoved Ryan away, and for a moment it looked like they were going to continue the fight, bell or no bell – but then Johnny held up a gloved hand and Ryan tapped it before the two men returned to their corners. As they toweled off and drank, Johnny said, “I have an idea.”