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The time on Michaels cracked phone read 8:37pm. The boy was wearing some ripped black skinny jeans, some random band shirt with a an old flannel hung loosely around his frame, and a black snapback to cover up his distressed hair.
No look would truly be complete without his scuffed up, classic converse.
He should really invest in new laces soon, seeing as the ends of these were splitting dramatically.
The boy was leaning against the brick wall in the familiar alleyway that held the large and intimidating metal door, a door that would lead him back to the place where his life ultimately got flipped upside down.
And by that, he meant meeting the three men that knew how to make him weak without always beating him to a pulp.
Their eyes were more than enough.
Michael toed at the cement with the tip of his shoe as he patiently waited for the other three, not exactly sure where he was supposed to meet them but seeming as it's a mutual location, he would wait right here.
Who knows, maybe this was some sort of test to prove that the youngest fighter wasn't a complete moron as much as he was a brat.
As he shuddered out a fogged breath into the cold New York night, he heard the shuffling of gravel coming from the other entrance of the alleyway. His head popped up almost instantly as he was suddenly more aware of his surroundings than he was prior moments ago.
There was a dumpster abstracting his vision to see any further down the alleyway, just his luck and it might be a raccoon or something.
He oh so desperately prayed to whatever divine being there was that it was only some garbage eater.
He didn't know if he was more scared of being jumped or more embarrassed that the other three would find him unconscious or something.
As he pushed himself off the cold wall, he slowly began walking towards that side of the alleyway, his curiosity getting the best of him. He, of course, tried to be quiet, but gravel was a very hard substance to not make noise against.
As he was about to turn the corner, he felt rough hands grip at his shoulders, pulling him back almost dramatically.
He panicked, eyes widened as he quickly pivoted before the grip got too tight, and socked a punch at the unknowns face.
Adrenaline was now rushing through his veins the same way fear usually did as he heard the laboured breathing of the person trying to keep the sudden pain under wraps.
"Fucking hell- kid, what the fuck was that?" Calum muttered out, pushing Michael away from him slightly. His hand came up to feel at the reopened cut on his cheek bone. His tongue swirled in the blood coating the inside of his mouth as he effectively cut himself against his teeth.
Ashton snorted slightly and took in the youngest fighters appearance, finding it very fitting for what they'd been calling him.
"At least that training seems to be paying off, he really nicked you, huh Hood?" the oldest of the four asked, humour dancing on the tip of his tongue.
As Michaels mouth was hung open, curses and apologies making their way from the back of his throat, his mind finally registered who he punched and who was watching.
Ashton and Luke both had subtle grins at the scene in front of them, clearly impressed by Michaels self defense and amused by Calums small outburst.
His eyes landed on the blood smeared on Calums lips and cheek as the man looked at him with the familiar fury.
YOU ARE READING
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
