Fight club.
Typically, fight club meant doing something secretive that brings a rush of euphoria.
It consumes you.
The first rule of fight club? You don't talk about fight club. Should be easy enough, right?
Unfortunately it wasn't for one of the gyms members. He went out one night, met a pretty guy at a bar and spilled everything there was to know about his underground boxing ring.
That pretty boy being Michael.
Michael was barely making ends meet after dropping out of high school and moving away from his parents. They never treated him like their son, they fuelled his violence and resentment.
Which is what brings Michael here, gentle hands gripping his gym bag as his black hoodie was thrown comfortably over his head.
Illegal boxing wasn't the best source of income, it wasn't stable or even safe but it was the red haired man's last resort.
It was this or homelessness, this or sulking to himself about his miserable life.
The man walked quickly down the sidewalk, streets busy with cars and traffic. The lights of buildings shining at every angle into the night. Usually, Michael would stop to admire this.
But right now? He needed to see this underground boxing ring for himself.
His hands began to shake at the adrenaline coursing through his body. He was excited that there may have been something there for him, but he was terrified that they'd turn him away.
It was risky getting involved with something like this. The main crowds at fights consisted of gang members, ring girls, drug addicts, and other fighters.
Michael would know, he's been around the block a couple of times.
The red haired man paced his walking as he turned into an alleyway, eyeing the brick walls carefully for any doors that may lead into his designated location.
Once he saw a steel door, the initials B.B.R which he could only assume stood for whatever the ring was called, he knew he was at the right place.
He took a deep breath, shaking hands taking grip of the handle before pushing it open, already hearing the loud cheers and cries of an audience inside.
He came in the middle of a fight.
Michael carefully made his way in, eyes widened at the size of such a gym. The equipment and the people scattered were enough to scare any normal person.
But they didn't scare Michael, they only drove him to take another step further.
As he made his way into the main arena, he paused to watch what was going down in front of him.
Crowds standing and cheering as loud as humanly possible, boxers standing around the ring to watch a blonde man and some other man fight.
The blonde man was tall, built like some kind of god. The punches he threw were enough to let the audience place a bidding down on him.
Every satisfying crack of the bones echoed through the loud facility.
Michael only froze, watching the poor man lose the fight.. and a couple of teeth to the tall blonde on-top of him.
The crowds cheers grew louder as Michaels grip grew tighter around his hoodie.
Time seemed to stop until he felt a presence behind him. A deep voice shaking him to the core.
"The crowd stands over there, sweetheart." said the mystery man. It didn't take much for the fear and adrenaline to be replaced with annoyance.
Who was this guy to go on calling him sweetheart?
"Good thing I'm not part of the crowd, jackass."
He could hear the man's breath hitch from behind him, grinning to himself at standing his ground.
Suddenly, Michael felt a sharp tug on his hood, allowing it to tug his body back into the hard chest behind him.
"Watch the attitude, punk. Some wannabe fighter with red hair thinks he can be all high and mighty as soon as he steps in." spat the stranger.
The material of the hoodie was starting to press tightly against Michaels neck, creating a panic to erupt deep in his chest.
Before he could say a word, the blonde boxer was beckoning them over.
The crowd watched, some ring girls awwing at the small fighter who is Michael. Compared to this stranger who's choking him out with his own hoodie and the blonde in the ring?
He should count his last minutes.
"Who's this pretty thing, Hood?" questioned the blonde boxer. The man now known as 'Hood' released the tight hold on the red haired man, pushing him towards the ring.
Michael being the clumsy person he was, tripped over his own feet.
His fists clenched in embarrassment as he heard the crowd laugh and whisper, as he heard the two men chuckle menacingly.
"Some punk that claims he isn't meant to be in the audience." Hood replied, arms crossing over his chest. The blonde grinned down at the younger man, taking his time in really take in the person in front of him.
Michael wasn't nearly as built as them, he has a height disadvantage and clearly poor people skills. His red hair only made it all the more embarrassing, the blonde thought.
He stuck out like a sore thumb.
"Alright, newbie. Think you're somebody around here? Running your mouth like that? Get in the ring."
Michaels blood ran cold as he hesitated to look up into the piercing blue eyes. He too took some time to look the blonde fighter over.
He was left without a scratch after his last fight.
Fuck.
He couldn't back down though, not when he knew he had something to prove. Michael was a stubborn man, though he'd never admit to it.
But not like that matters, he's a shit liar too.
The red haired man slid his shoes off and set his bag down, shakily taking steps towards the ring.
The crowds were roaring, absolutely ready to watch this poor little boy get beaten half to death.
Once Michael was up and on, someone tossed him a mouth guard. He was thankful enough for that at least, but he needed gloves.
As he looked a bit clueless at first, the blonde that stood in front of him could only smirk down at him.
"Oh darling, we'll be bare knuckle boxing tonight. Think you can handle tha-" but before he could even finish, Michael threw the first punch square in the jaw.
The crowd gasped as the younger man could only wince at the sudden pressure and pain spreading through his hand.
But such somber pain came to an end, a much worse pain quickly working it's way through his body.
The blonde was throwing punches left and right, moving strategically to avoid any of Michaels pathetic throws of the fist.
He couldn't keep up, he want strong enough and he sure as hell wasn't prepared.
Luckily for him, he didn't have to feel the pain anymore as the blonde knocked him right out.
Black.
Maybe he should've kept a low profile.
"Hemmings!"
—-
AND THATS CHAP 1!!
I had so many variations but i think that after the first chapter, the rest will flow smoothly.
I hope you enjoyed it for what it was! id love to hear predictions and wants for the story and it's future! comments mean the world
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Knockout • OT4
Fanfiction"I don't know if I want to fuck him or make him bleed the colour of that stupid red hair." "Why not both?" - Where Michael joins an underground boxing club and can't seem to stay out of trouble. bottom!michael dom!luke dom!cal dom!ash
