This story contains male/male consensual relationships of a romantic and sexual nature. If it is illegal for you to read this type of material, please adhere to your laws.
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Part Three
Mason dumped a load of gloves into a metal basket in back of the gym and then turned to survey the guys who were training around him. Everyone was distracted by Blake, who was in a far off corner of the gym, obliterating a punching bag.
Blake had been at the thing for over an hour, relentless in the precise combinations that Pellegrino had been going over with him the day before. He was shirtless and sweat dripped off of him rivers. The intensity in his eyes was bordering on insanity. He was obviously working out his demons in the gym.
It shouldn't have been a big deal. They had all done it before. But Blake was new. The guys weren't used to him yet and he was still self-conscious while he trained for the most part. But now, he was completely selfless, only focused on the strident motion of his fists hitting the leather material in front of him, he was free in a way that he didn't allow himself to be around others...and everyone could see that with a little training under his belt, Blake was going to be able to give a punch just as well he could take one.
Pellegrino moved slowly to Mason's side.
"What's wrong with the kid?" Pellegrino asked him and Mason knew that tone. His dad wanted him to do something, but he wasn't going to tell Mason exactly what it was. He wanted Mason to figure it out for himself. He hadn't tried to teach Mason a lesson like that since he'd finished training and gotten his first sponsor.
"Hell if I know," Mason retorted with a careless shrug. If this lesson had anything to do with Mason talking to or interacting with Blake in any way, Pellegrino could forget about it.
The fact of the matter was, the kid got to him. He planned on fighting it tooth and nail, but he had to admit to himself that there was something about the kid that just got under his skin.
He'd spent the night before flirting with and then fucking a twink he'd picked up at the bar he liked to frequent, but he hadn't felt even half of the satisfaction he normally did. He knew it was because Blake was separated from the action by a few scant inches of wood and plaster.
The main problem was that Blake was a pretty boy and even though he wasn't the type that Mason normally went for, the was no mistaking the fact that if given half a chance, Mason would love to fuck the life out of Blake. A minute of looking at the guy from across the gym and his dick took on a life of its own.
Mason had never had this type of reaction to anyone, not even his first boyfriend or the countless line of hard-bodied rookies he had seen day in and day out in the gym when he was a teenager. It was like Blake and his dick had a direct line of communication going on.
Mason turned away from the sight of Blake. He couldn't waste his time making googly-eyes at the new kid. He had a pay-per-view title bout coming up a little over two months and he needed to focus on his routine. The kid was throwing him completely off his game and he needed to nip that in the bud immediately.
Blake dumped the contents of the water bottle over his head and bent over, resting his hands against his knees as he gasped for breath. He hadn't been able to sleep a wink the night before, instead he'd curled up on the bed and listened to Mason and the glitterboy go at it not once, but three times.
He'd given up on sleeping around four am and just got up, showered and headed for the gym. After trying to work himself to exhaustion cleaning up the place, he'd decided to work a punching bag. It was over an hour later before he was done, drenching from head to toe in sweat, his arms aching and his head pounding fiercely.
His hope had been that the physical pain would exhaust him, deplete him enough that he could actually sleep or hurt so much that he wouldn't think about Mason. But it was no good.
His every thought was consumed with the guy and there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it. Blake wanted to be with the guy but he didn't really see that happening...and he wasn't a hundred percent sure that he would be able to live in the room next to Mason's while he went through every twink in a twenty mile radius. Blake just didn't have it in him to take that kind of torture.
The saddest part was that he had given up his job, his security, everything that he'd been so proud of a few weeks ago, for just the chance to catch Mason's eye, knowing that the odds of it happening were slim to none.
Mason could have anybody he wanted and Blake was nobody, an unwanted kid who'd eeked by for the last five years by working shit jobs, stealing or selling his body. A whore with a ninth-grade education and nowhere to turn when things got rough.
What the hell was he doing? Blake sniffed hard and forced his eyes open. He hadn't pitied himself at the worst times, when he was on his knees for some fat fuck in the park or tied up at the whim of a psycho top from a leather bar. He hadn't felt sorry for himself when he'd been getting his ass kicked by four or five straight guys who'd wanted their cocks sucked just moments before or when he hadn't had a drop of food in four or five days.
He refused to throw himself a pity party over the fact that Mason wasn't giving him a second glance. He tamped down the clawing desperation that was eating at his chest and forced himself to breath evenly.
Pellegrino tossed a towel onto his back and stood nearby. Blake, still working at catching his breath, stood and grabbed the towel. He brought it around to wipe half-heartedly at the sweat on his brow, neck and shoulders. He met Pellegrino's eyes.
"You wanna talk about it, kid?" Pellegrino asked in his gravelly voice. Blake looked away from him.
"Not really," Blake said, unsmiling. Pellegrino watched him carefully for a long moment.
"You didn't come here to box, did you?" Pellegrino asked and Blake eyed him.
Blake shrugged and reached back to wipe some of the sweat off of his back.
"'Cause I see guys in and out of here and they all have a goal in mind," Pellegrino continued. "They wanna get famous...or make money. They wanna escape from something or prove something. They want a lot of things, but I can see that you don't want none of those things, do you?"
Blake turned towards Pellegrino and met his eyes. He didn't look away.
"Well, do you?" Pellegrino asked. Blake shook his head.
"Nope," Blake agreed quietly.
"And to put your body through the kind of punishment that you're gonna put yours through, you gotta want what you want real bad," Pellegrino commented and Blake clenched his jaw and nodded.
Pellegrino eyes him silently for a long time, then stepped slightly closer and went on in a quiet voice, "He got hurt real bad on his first go round. Some guy that wanted to be a superstar thought he could hook himself up to our name and that'd get him ahead in the ring. He was a shit boxer and I could see it coming a mile away. But what guy with a hard-on ever listened to his father? I didn't even bring it up. The guy used him and had somebody on the side and when he found out, his heart was broken. He ain't been the same since."
Blake stared at Pellegrino, drinking in every word.
"So, what I'm saying is, you got your work cut out for you," Pellegrino told him. "And if you're gonna fight this fight, you gotta knuckle up and throw your punches, you know, don't be afraid to get hit."
Blake nodded. Pellegrino was giving him advice on how to deal with his feelings for Mason. That had to be a good thing.
"When I met Anita, that little filly gave me hell," Pellegrino told him. "Hardest fight of my life convincing her I was worth a chance. But it was worth every damn minute. And he's worth it, too."
"I-is that why you're training me," Blake asked uncertainly. "Because of that?"
Pellegrino laughed.
"Hell, no," Pellegrino spat. "You're gonna be a helluva fighter, make us a nice chunk of change after you get your feet wet. But it'd never hurt nothing to have another boxer in the family."
He winked at Blake and walked away. Blake was left to stand staring after him, digesting what he'd said. He couldn't stop the small smile that covered his lips. *********************************************************** To be continued....
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