Chapter Seven -- My Favorite Fighter
Ruslan was watching, barely hiding his excitement and satisfaction. Johnny was a beast in the cage, and he knew how to throw a good show, too. From the corner of his eyes, he was trying to gauge the old man's reactions, as well. For some reason now, he really wanted his papa to accept Snake. Never before had he cared for the man who had taken him under his protective wing to like the men he took to bed. Most of them, the old man hadn't known. But right now, he wanted so much for Douglas Kent to be impressed with Johnny 'Snake' Bryne. To the point that he was not going to be against his adoptive son being together with the guy.
Was that really what they were? Together? The word sounded nice. But Ruslan was not the kind to believe in fairytales. Except for that time when the old man had saved him and Yanis, he had a hard time believing in miracles. And since one had already happened, he wasn't expecting a second one. No, he and Johnny were nothing but fantastic bedfellows, nothing more. And it wasn't going to last.
Despite all that, he wanted his papa to like Snake, and that was something he could not get out of his head. No longer in the mood to wait for the verdict, he started talking.
"What do you think?" he asked.
The old man moved his eyes from the ring below to him.
"He has talent, that is sure. And strength. Still, he likes dragging matches a bit too much."
Ruslan frowned.
"I think it's good that he knows how to put on a good show. That makes people come. It sells tickets. I thought we were looking at ways to make a profit, here."
His papa chuckled softly.
"Did I trespass, by saying something is not oh-so-amazing about this man you seem to like so much?" he asked. "I'm only trying to say that it wouldn't hurt for him to get a proper trainer."
"Ah," Ruslan eased back into his upholstered chair. Funny how tense he was. "But not right now. It wouldn't be fair to the others if we lent a helping hand, favoring one of them."
The old man nodded.
"Of course," he said. "But I thought you wanted him to win."
"By himself," Ruslan replied. "I'm sure he wouldn't have it any other way, either."
"And I'm glad to see that you have a strong sense of justice. Could it be that you're not that blinded by this love affair, after all?" the old man questioned.
"Love affair?" Ruslan snorted, trying to ignore the small fire kindled in his chest by those words. "I told you, it's just plain old ... you know."
"I know," the man laughed. "By the way, I told Martin you find him too stiff. He says that he will try to be, well, less stiff. But he also begs you to have patience with an old butler who is maybe a bit too set in his ways."
Ruslan's eyes grew wide, and, for a second, they left the man slicing his way through another victory and his opponent alike in the cage below, with jabs and mean hooks.
"I can't believe you told him that!" he protested. "I hope you didn't tell him everything," his eyes thinned as he looked at his papa.
"By everything, do you mean your theories concerning a certain kind of interactions between Martin and me?"
"Yeah, that is what I mean!" Ruslan answered, and a new collective cheer from the audience drew his attention.
This time, he got up and sat close to the large window, setting his eyes on Johnny. Damn, just looking at the man's chest, glistening with sweat, was making him weak to the legs. From the day when Johnny had taken him over the desk in his office, they had only talked on the phone. And he knew enough not to ask for the man to come to meet when important fights were ahead. He could not be that selfish.
Plus, when Snake was going to sign with them, there was going to be plenty of time for them to screw around. Until they burned to the bone. Or got bored with one another. He wanted neither to happen. What he wanted was to feel Johnny's skin against his, the man's hard cock against his ass, ready for action.
He was wide-eyed dreaming.
"Russy," the old man called for him. "I must say that I'm impressed with Snake. Since my golden boy is ready to go out the door with such a troublesome guy, I must ask. What's so special about him?"
"Everything," Ruslan said, a bit too theatrically to be taken seriously, and then he started laughing. "C'mon, papa, you really want me to say it? I'm young. I'm horny. And Snake's the same. Does it really surprise you that we fit so well?"
The old man sighed, but Ruslan knew his papa wasn't that upset over him being so much taken with that bawdy fighter.
"I know it must be more than that. I just told you the most outrageous truth about Martin and me, and you didn't bat an eye. You were too busy watching your lover scoring another win. For you."
"What outrageous truth?" Ruslan now turned, still keeping his hands on the glass, like a kid in front of his favorite toy store, and pretending he hadn't felt a small shiver, like pleasure and pain combined, at hearing his papa calling Snake his lover.
"Well, you missed your chance to hear it," the old man chuckled. "I'm at peace with my conscience. Now you should know everything."
Ruslan hurried to the man, with excitement written all over his face.
"No way! You two really are lovers!" he exclaimed.
Douglas Kent stared at him and pursed his lips.
"You haven't heard a word I said."
"I don't have to hear anything," Ruslan's smile grew wide. "I just know."
"Ah, and here is how your imagination is running away with you again. I said nothing of the kind," the old man raised one hand to caress Ruslan's head.
"You're playing with me," Ruslan pouted. "Now I'm sure you didn't say anything."
"Do I have the habit to lie to you, Russy?"
He pondered a little.
"You don't? That's what you're trying to say? Then why me?"
"Why you?" the old man looked at him with kind eyes. "What do you mean?"
Ruslan knelt by the man's chair, pushing his head to be caressed a little more, like a kitten.
