boxer ⋆ luke hemmings ✔️

15. Boxer's Tongue.

"You're slacking, mate," Luke rolled his eyes as Jack studied him from the corner of the ring, arms crossed, "Punches are sloppy and you're not looking straight,"

He refrained from letting out a loud groan, knowing fully well that he wasn't training to the best of his ability. It wasn't Luke's fault. He just had a lot on his mind.

"Come on, Luke! You've barely moved the thing," Jack sighed, shaking his head and holding his hand up to halt his brother's movements.

He walked to the centre of the ring, standing at the side of the punching bag to face Luke with folded arms, "What's going on?"

"What do you mean, what's going on?" despite his trainer being in close proximity, he continued to land punches on the leather; desperate to obtain some sort of focus, "I'm training."

"This isn't training," Jack frowned in disagreement, "Training's not just physical, Luke. You have to be in the right frame of mind to do it properly. And right now, I'm really not convinced that you are,"

"I'm fine."

"Where were you yesterday morning?"

"What?"

Another punch. He'd heard Jack loud and clear, he just didn't want to give him an answer in fear of his reaction.

"Yesterday morning. I called your cell, and somebody else picked up," Sophie. "What the heck were you doing with Calum's little sister at five in the morning?"

"It's a long story," It's really not.

"What'd you do, fuck her, or something?" Luke's hasty movements paused, "Because as much as that wouldn't surprise me, Luke-"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" he wiped at the sweat on his face, eyebrows furrowing. He didn't know whether he felt more offended or confused.

"Look, don't take it to heart, yeah? It's just I know what you're like-"

"You think I'd go for her?" Luke scoffed slightly. Although he felt a pang of guilt at his own words regarding Sophie, he needed some sort of excuse to get Jack off of his case. He then shook his head, re-fastening the Velcro of the boxing glove, "Don't be stupid."

"I'm just saying, Luke. There's no need to get so defensive,"

"You're calling me a man-whore and you expect me not to get offended," he muttered, striking the heavyweight with a force weaker than the last, "Right."

"Not a man-whore. A classy male who likes to sleep around, maybe," Jack noted. Luke stayed poker-faced.

"Was that supposed to make me laugh?"

"It was supposed to get you to ease up on that bag. I feel like you're imagining it as my face- your punches have gotten a lot better," the older man then steadied the hook, before using his free hand to pat Luke on the shoulder, "See, now you're in the right mindset. Go nuts,"

"Fuck you." Luke muttered, slightly irritated that his brother had the right intention all along. He didn't know what annoyed him the most; the fact that it worked, or the fact that Jack had automatically assumed his sexual relations with Sophie Hood just by the sound of her innocent voice through the line.

Being in the ring again felt good, somewhat like a treat. Luke had been deprived from R's ever since his last opponent smashed his jaw against the edge of the ring ropes, so this was a nice thing to come back to for him. He almost felt like he was at home.