Chapter 5
As soon as Frank pushed open the door to Fogwell’s and heard the loud chatter of his work colleagues bouncing off the walls, he knew the night was gonna be a good one.
Frank liked Fogwell’s. It wasn’t like normal gyms, none of this modern, high-tech machinery that claimed it’d have you looking like a swimwear model within a month. It was simple: punch bags, tattered canvas bags filled with sand, foam mats on the floor for workouts, and a ring that was just a platform and old rope tied together. Others may scoff at it, but really it was all Frank needed for a workout. The primitiveness gave it a raw feeling and an energy that couldn’t be matched by any modern machinery.
It was extra special to Frank because of how much it meant to Red. It wasn’t just a gym to Red; it was a huge part of his childhood and some of his fondest memories were made there. It was his sanctuary and his safe space, somewhere he could really let his emotions out, so when he’d first invited Frank to spar with him there Frank knew how much that meant. Red wasn’t just inviting Frank to work out with him, he was revealing a vulnerable part of himself and trusting Frank with it. Frank wouldn’t take that for granted.
“Wow,” Red said beside him, his head tilted as he took in his surroundings. “This is gonna be fun.”
“Definitely.”
There was a good turnout. Unless there was a new batch of rookies in, it was normally the same group of people who regularly attended Fight Night. Tonight, it looked like half the station was there: Homicide, Cyber-Crimes, Evidence, Vice, Forensics, Gang Intelligence, everyone was there. Even Madani came. She was currently stood with Karen in the far corner next to the refreshments' table, with Karen nodding along with an interested frown on her face. Jones was hovering next to them, sat on the table sipping from a cup of God-knows-what. Rand, Cage and Wing were huddled together nearby. Rand was bouncing on the balls of his feet and listening to what Wing was telling him with rapt attention, whilst Cage stood there quietly with his arms crossed. Knowing them, Wing was probably giving Rand some last-minute tips or a pep-talk. Curt was sat on one of the chairs lining the room with Amy and, surprisingly, Wilson. Wilson looked awkward, but Frank took it as a good sign that he’d chosen to sit with Curt rather than his other new ‘friends.’ Nelson was distributing what looked like hotdogs to everyone, with Stahl talking to those who approached, and Liberman was sneaking extras when Nelson wasn’t looking. Frank distantly wondered if Liberman had joined the food thievery ring and made a note to scare him out of it if he had. A quick scan of the room showed that O’Conner was yet to turn up.
“You wanna hotdog?” Frank asked. “Or just to dump your stuff and prepare?”
Frank was already leading Red towards the hotdog station. He knew, even before Red screwed up his nose in disgust, the answer would be no to the hotdog; Red claimed the processed food smelt awful, and he’d already eaten anyway as fighting on a full-stomach wasn’t the best idea. However, he’d want to say hello to Nelson despite them only being apart for four hours, and that involved braving the revolting smells in front of him.
“No, but I would like some water.”
Frank nodded. Red was one of the only people who actually drank water at Fight Night, most of the others treating it as an opportunity to get drunk. Red would have a beer, but only after he and his friends had had their shot in the arena to make sure everyone was alright and could get home safely.
“Matt!” Nelson greeted as soon as he saw them approach. “Water? Or have you finally seen the light and want to try Nelson’s high-quality hotdogs, best in the city?”
“I haven’t seen anything, I’m blind,” Red joked with a grin. “And we both know you picked that up from the convenience store down the street on your way here.”
“Well, don’t tell anyone that! And you better give Castle the night of his life to make sure he keeps the secret too.” Nelson turned to Frank and nodded in greeting. “Castle.”
Frank nodded back. “Nelson.”
Red smiled widely. “I thought you specifically banned me from mentioning anything that implied an intimate relationship between me and Frank anywhere in your vicinity.”
“Oh, I don’t want details!” Nelson said, shaking his head vehemently. “And definitely don’t have sex in the office.” He sighed. “But my family’s reputation is on the line, and we all must make sacrifices for the greater good.”
“And the greater good is hotdogs?”
Nelson glared at Red, who was grinning like he knew he’d won an unspoken argument.
“My family business,” Nelson reaffirmed.
“You should’ve sold the hotdogs rather than give them away,” Frank contributed. “Would’ve made a killing with this lot.”
Red beamed at him. He always had that expression whenever Frank interacted with Nelson in a non-abrasive, casual - almost friendly - manner without any talk of work; especially if Frank was the one who initiated the conversation. Frank understood why.
“I don’t have any biological family left: my friends are my family. So my partner showing an interest in and getting along with my friends means the most important people in my life are together and accept each other. It’s the closest I’ll ever get to ‘meet the parents’ and more than I could ever ask for.”
From the moment Red had said those words, Frank had made a genuine effort to get along with Nelson and have at least one conversation a week with him that didn’t involve dead bodies. They weren’t necessarily friends like Frank and Karen were, but they could have a beer together, Nelson no longer grated on Frank’s nerves, and Nelson had stop fleeing at the sight of Frank so Frank would call that progress. Anything to make Red happy.
Nelson hummed thoughtfully at the suggestion before shrugging and turning his attention back to Red. “You know half of them are probably here solely to watch you pummel O’Conner into the ground, right?” Nelson said, nodding at the crowd. “I don’t blame them. He’s managed to piss off most the station.” He looked at Red pointedly. “There’s a betting pool."
Red snorted. “There’s always a betting pool. The precinct has a gambling problem.”
“Yeah, but this betting pool doesn’t even have ‘O’Connor wins’ as an option. It’s mostly about how long he’ll last.”
“I’m flattered you all think so much of me.”
“It’s not so much thinking so much of you, it’s thinking so little of O’Connor and knowing you.”
Red grinned. “No pressure then. It’s going to be really embarrassing if I don’t win now.”
“You’ll win,” Frank said firmly.
Red didn’t need the reassurance; Red knew he was good even if he didn’t say it. It was one of the only things he showed a hint of arrogance at. It was obvious in the way he smirked slightly at anyone who stepped up to fight him with a swagger and ego - those who thought they were the superior fighter, despite everyone warning them they weren’t. Those were some of Frank’s favourite moments at Fight Nights. That, and being able to punch idiots in the face with no repercussions.
Even if Red didn’t know he was good, his record spoke for itself. To this day, Red was considered unbeatable, with very few losses under his belt. O’Connor clearly hadn’t done his research or asked around about Red’s ability, so Frank knew tonight was gonna be memorable.
Nelson nodded. “Yeah. When Wilson saw how nobody was betting on O’Connor to win and asked why, Amy literally just said ‘don’t bet on O’Connor. You will lose all your money. Matt is gonna kick his ass.’ He wisely hasn’t bet on him, and instead has it down O’Connor will last 15 minutes before succumbing.”
“That long?” Frank said. Poor kid was gonna lose that bet. “I’m guessing less than 2 minutes, depending on how much Red wants to play with him.”
Frank looked at Red imploringly, hoping he’d play with O’Connor at least a little bit. Frank wanted to see O’Connor get frustrated and see the dawning horror on his face when he realised he’d underestimated Red.
Red shook his head, a smile twitching at his lips.
Nelson waved him off. “Either way, you’re gonna smash it, Matt.”
“Getting cocky gets you killed,” Red said. “I’m not going to assume I’ll win every time, you never know what your opponent brings to the ring.”
Frank snorted. “Maybe not every time, but you definitely will win against O’Connor.”
Red opened his mouth to reply, but before he could there was a loud bang as the doors to the gym flew open and hit the wall. Everyone broke off their conversations and turned to see O’Connor sauntering in, Gosnell loyally at his side. O’Connor’s nose stuck up in the air as he glanced around the room, taking in everyone in attendance before nodding and turning his back to them. He immediately started talking to Gosnell who was nodding along with sadistic pleasure written all over his face.
Frank took a sip of his beer.
“Saying anything interesting?” Frank asked, not really caring or wanting to hear what O’Connor had to say.
Red tilted his head before shaking it. “Exactly what you’d expect. ‘Good turnout’, ‘can’t wait to show off my skills’, ‘it’s time some people learned respect.’”
Frank hummed. “Oh, I agree with him on that last one. Some people will definitely learn respect tonight.”
Nelson clapped a hand on Red’s shoulder. “Beat him, Matt. Get justice for Mr Mittens.”
Red nodded solemnly.
Frank caught movement out of the corner of his eye and watched as Karen walked over to Gosnell with a confident stance, Jones tailing her for backup.
“She’s making sure they’re still on for a round in the ring,” Red said without turning around.
“He actually agreed to fight her?” Frank asked, surprised.
Red shrugged. “Wants to put her in her place, I think, and make a point he’s better than her. Or at least embarrass her.”
Nelson snorted. “It’s not like he could say no when she asked him so publicly. He’d be the laughing stock of his little gang of misogynists if he was too much of a coward to fight a girl.” Nelson sighed. “It was a clever tactic from Karen. She really wanted to punch him in the face, so she made it so he couldn’t say no to it.”
Frank turned to Red. “Did you teach her that?”
Red shook his head with a smile. “Nope. Our girl’s all grown up.”
“Please stop talking about us like we’re your children,” Nelson sighed.
Frank’s eyes darted to where Madani was now stood alone sipping her drink.
“Hey, I’m just gonna say hi to Madani,” Frank said. Red nodded and Frank squeezed his waist and pecked him on the cheek before walking away, ignoring Nelson’s muttered “ew, gross.” Nelson immediately started chattering to Red about fuck knows what, but Frank thought he heard the word ‘eels.’
Madani took another sip of her drink and tilted her head in acknowledgement as Frank approached. He leaned back against the wall and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, boss,” Frank said.
Madani raised her eyebrows and shrugged one shoulder. “Well, work has been stressful lately, and I’ve been stuck in my office with paperwork so not seen much of the team. I thought this would kill two birds with one stone: I’d get out and have fun, and can also spend some quality time with the team.”
“You come to see Matt beat O’Connor and take him down a peg or six?”
Madani gave him a look. “As your boss, I cannot comment on that statement. As your friend…”
“You’re jealous you can’t be the one to punch his stupid face and have to live vicariously through Matt?”
Madani cracked a smile. “Sometimes I think the sacrifice that comes with the job is too great. The last guy I punched for being an asshole was Billy.”
Frank whistled lowly. That had been before Madani had become captain, and she’d been in the position for a good three years now. Frank couldn’t imagine holding back that long.
“I’d give anything to be able to do something other than give a strongly worded reprimand or suspend them,” Madani said mournfully. “But, you know, professionalism.” She looked at Frank. “Well, you don’t know professionalism, but you know what I mean.”
Frank put a hand to his chest, wounded. “I’ll have you know I’m very professional.”
“Didn’t Nelson walk in on you wearing makeshift shackles and hanging from the Autopsy ceiling, and Matt wielding a scalpel? That’s what the precinct rumour mill says.”
Frank tutted. “Rumours and lies.” He paused. “We’ve never done shackles or scalpels. He’d tied me to the autopsy table.”
“I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”
“More professional though.”
“Debatable. But I suppose at least I know Matt hasn’t been secretly nailing hooks into the Autopsy ceiling for his personal pleasure.”
Red had, but only Frank and Nelson knew that, and even Nelson thought they were just there to hang Christmas lights from.
“You could participate in Fight Night,” Frank suggested. “You'd get to let out all that frustration and anger in a socially acceptable manner.”
Madani snorted. “I don’t think the media would think the captain of the police force openly participating in and encouraging her officers to beat each other in a violent backstreet brawl a ‘socially acceptable manner’ if they found out.”
“This ain’t a brawl, it’s boxing, martial arts, and wrestling. All very respectable sports.”
“I’ve seen you fight Cage.”
That was fair enough. There wasn’t really any other way to fight Cage except to outlast him.
Madani’s eyes sparkled like she knew she had him there. “So as you said, I have to live vicariously through others.” She sighed. “God, I hope Matt beats him-”
“He will, no question there.”
“- hard enough that it knocks the racism out of him.” She hesitated. “Or at least enough that he calls in sick due to embarrassment.”
Frank grinned.
A bell rung and simultaneously everyone in the room turned towards it and quietened down. Cage stood in the ring, waiting until everyone settled before speaking.
“Hi, everyone, and welcome to this month’s Fight Night.”
A few people in the crowd cheered – Nelson, Liberman, Rand – and others clapped. Jones rolled her eyes and Frank almost laughed at the drama of it all. People treated it like it was a full-blown televised wrestling match, which Frank would admit it felt like at times but even more fun, rather than work colleagues meeting up after their shift to be social.
“We have some regulars here tonight,” Cage glanced at Red, Frank, Rand and Wing, “And a few newbies.” He pointedly did not look at O’Connor and instead smiled at Wilson, who smiled shyly back.
Frank darted a look at O’Connor and smirked. He was fuming. Frank knew he would be at being called a ‘newbie’; it undermined the image he portrayed as the experienced and capable man he wasn’t. Of course he’d take it as an insult. Frank wondered if Cage had said it deliberately knowing it would rile O’Connor up and as a passive aggressive method of vengeance after holding his tongue for so long. Frank hoped he had.
“So, I’m gonna go over the rules,” Cage continued. “First, don’t actually try to kill each other.” Everyone laughed but Frank noticed how Cage looked pointedly at Jones, who shrugged. “Second, no permanent damage to your opponent. Avoid breaking bones. If anyone hurts someone beyond the limit, they will be disqualified and responsible for driving their opponent to the hospital.”
Frank knew that one had been put in place after one of the Forensics’ guys had broken the arm of someone from Gang Intelligence, and it had caused tension and harassment in the office to the extent all of Forensics refused to process that department’s evidence. It was also supposed to discourage heavy drinking as there was a chance they’d have to drive, but people just drank more to avoid it.
“Third. What happens in the ring, stays in the ring. The moment you step out, the fight is over. It doesn’t continue after the bell, it doesn’t affect your relationships in the office.”
Frank was hoping it would affect the office dynamics. He wanted O’Connor to stay away from Red, and he suspected O’Connor would if he got his ass beat.
“You can choose whatever style of fighting you want, but bear in mind your opponent can also choose any fighting style they want. It’s up to you to adapt and counteract their moves whatever they are, you can’t complain they cheated just because they weren’t fighting the way you wanted them too.”
“It feels like that rule was specifically put in place because Cage knows that’s what O’Connor’s going to claim,” Madani said quietly.
Frank nodded. The first part was a consistent rule for Fight Nights, but Cage had added the accusations of cheating. Nobody had made those claims before, usually everyone took the loss somewhat gracefully, but Frank wouldn’t put it past O’Connor.
“The exception is if you want to use weapons,” Cage said. “That has to be agreed between you, and it can only be one from the selection we have.” He gestured to the table on the opposite side of the room. People didn’t usually use the weapons because they weren’t skilled enough with them. The only ones who regularly did were Wing, Rand, and Red.
“The ref for today is me, except for my fights which will be refereed by the captain.”
Frank turned his head to Madani with a raised eyebrow, surprised. She hadn’t mentioned that.
Madani smirked back and shrugged. “I don’t want to have to live vicariously through others for everything. I’ll take what I can get.”
“Our word is final,” Cage continued, then became serious. “If we step forward and tell you to stop, you stop immediately. No questions, no excuses, no objections. If you continue, you will be disqualified, kicked out, and banned from future Fight Nights.”
They’d only had to implement that rule once, and it was Rawlins after a fight with Frank. He’d brought out an unauthorised weapon and didn’t stop punching even when Frank was down. He’d ignored everyone shouting, everyone trying to pull him off Frank, just because he hated Frank and didn’t care about the repercussions. Frank had managed to kick the man off him and won the fight using dirty tactics, and Rawlins hadn’t just been kicked out of Fight Nights but was fired. He’d already had a long list of infractions that the previous captain had swept under the rug, but even the captain couldn’t ignore that. Frank was lucky Red had been there and patched him up as best he could afterwards, but Frank had still needed to go to the hospital, and that had led to a report.
It'd almost happened several other times. Once with Madani and Billy, and once with Frank and Billy. Madani stopped because she knew the consequences for her would be worse than the gratification and because she didn’t want to stoop to Russo’s level. Frank stopped because he saw Red’s expression.
“And the final rule…” Cage grinned. “Have fun.”
There was a collective groan at the cheesiness of it, but Frank’s lips twitched up in amusement despite himself.
“Now, I know there have been some prearranged matchups, so I’ve already put them on the list. If anyone else wants to fight, give me your names and we’ll pair you with someone of your choosing or randomly, whatever you prefer. I know there’s also talk of a couples’ fight, so we’ll consider arranging that later when we have firmer numbers.”
Which meant Cage expected some couples to lose at least one of their members to injuries or exhaustion by the time they got to it, and didn’t want the complications of rearranging everything later.
Cage clapped his hands together. “That ends the rules, fight starts in 10 minutes.”
Everyone dispersed, heading towards either the makeshift bar, to give their names to Cage, or the chairs lining the walls facing the ring. Frank walked over to where Red had settled in one of the chairs with the best view of the ring and plonked himself down next to him. Frank had to smile. Red didn’t need a seat with any view, let alone the best one; he’d chosen it for Frank.
Madani sat next to Frank, and Karen sat next to her. Nelson sat on Red’s other side and Stahl next to him.
“You ready, Karen?” Frank asked.
He didn’t need to. Her expression was moulded into stubborn determination and her leg was bouncing with anticipation.
“Oh, she’s ready, ” Red said with a smile. “I made sure of it.”
“Gosnell’s not going to know what hit him,” Karen said, grinning.
“What’s gonna hit him is a blonde ball of rage needing to show a misogynist who the real dom amongst them is,” Nelson said.
Stahl and Madani chuckled whilst Red smiled proudly at Karen. Frank suspected his own face wore a similar expression based on the grin Karen shot at him.
Red turned his head suddenly and Frank glanced around to see what had caught his attention. Rand was facing Red, jerking his thumb at the list Cage held with a raised eyebrow. Red nodded, Rand grinned and undoubtedly scribbled their names down.
Frank huffed a laugh.
“What?” Red said. “I need an actual challenge. I’m all pent-up, and even if O’Connor is a world-class martial artist, that’s not going to be enough to keep me on my toes.”
“If you need to release that pent-up tension there are other ways we can do that,” Frank said without thinking. He flung an arm around Red’s shoulders and smirked.
“You two do this deliberately to gross me out, don’t you?” Nelson lamented.
The bell dinged and Cage stepped back in the ring before Frank or Red could reply.
“First up, Jess and Colleen.”
Collectively, they let out a hum of interest. That wasn’t a common pairing, mostly because their fighting styles were so different. Wing’s was smooth, calculated, and deadly, Jones’ was like getting charged by a bull. Wing hopped into the ring, Rand standing close to the edge to support if necessary, whilst Jones sauntered over. On Cage’s word, the fight began, with Jones immediately lunging at a still Wing. Wing dodged with little effort, ducking under Jones’ leg straight after when it came unexpectedly close to her head. Wing dropped to the floor and spun, trying to catch one of Jones’ legs to knock them out from under her, but Jones just jumped over Wing. Wing was on her feet and Jones went to charge again. Both Frank and Wing realised it was a feint too late, and Wing was knocked to the ground. Frank recognised that move.
“Been teaching Jones too, Red?” Frank asked. “You should start your own little after work training session. The whole precinct would be unbeatable ninjas.”
Red shrugged. “She asked for a move to take down Luke that didn’t involve a lethal weapon. I told her there wasn’t a single move that’d wipe Luke out, but his weakness was he’s big and strong but not nimble. So she’s been working on her speed and practicing on others. I think she’s doing well.”
She was. Wing was one of the most skilled fighters there and Jones was almost catching her off guard. Frank thought it was probably the surprise at Jones’ change in style that had Wing feeling wrong-footed, but one of the most beneficial things about Fight Nights was it taught people how to adapt. An effective move against Rand would not ensure a victory against Cage, and trying to outlast Red would never work but would on many others. Fight Nights trained people to learn the method that would win against their current opponent in the current situation, and it made them a sharper team because of it.
Red suddenly snorted in amusement and Frank looked at him.
“O’Connor and Gosnell,” Red explained. “They are both very surprised Colleen is a decent fighter. Those are my words, not theirs, what they said shouldn’t be repeated in public.”
“Well, they’re in for a shock when O’Connor gets up there with you and Gosnell gets Karen. Neither of you look particularly threatening, though we all know looks are deceiving.”
“Thanks, Frank.”
Wing finally got the upper hand over Jones by jumping off the rope into the air and landing on her. Luke called it and Wing pulled Jones up as people clapped. Wing walked off with Jones, talking quietly to her. Jones looked as disinterested as normal, but Frank knew she was likely listening to Wing intently to get more feedback.
The next three fights weren’t particularly interesting or people Frank was invested in, so he sat there and sipped his drink as he listened to Nelson commentating to Red like he was a professional wrestling announcer. Red’s laugh made Frank smile, so he didn’t comment on how cheesy Nelson was being.
Then it was Karen and Gosnell’s turn.
Nelson and Red stopped talking immediately as Karen got up, squared her shoulders and started striding towards the ring. Red and Nelson stood up and started clapping.
“Go on, Karen!”
“Smash him into the ground!”
“He stands no chance against you!”
“Turn him into sausage meat!”
Frank had to wonder whether that was a co-ordinated attack of support, or they were just so in tune they decided to do it at the same time. Either way, Karen relaxed minutely as she threw a smile back in their direction.
Gosnell was taking his sweet time, a smug look on his face as he walked through the crowd and into the ring. It was funny really, seeing Karen nodding along to Luke’s reminders, taking it in, and with a serious and determined expression on her face, next to Gosnell who had his hands in his pockets (jeans, who wore jeans to the gym?) and sharing mocking laughs with O’Connor, not even glancing at Cage and Karen.
That was his mistake. He was still mid-laugh when Karen’s fist smashed into his face and his nose started bleeding. Gosnell stumbled back, the look of shock on his face being the highlight of Frank’s week so far, and he held his hand to his nose before pulling it back to reveal the blood. Karen, bless her heart, gave Gosnell a few moments to come to terms with that, then when he looked up at her she smirked evilly and jerked her head in challenge.
Gosnell fell for the bait, or at least he was too furious not to retaliate. Karen simply slipped to the side out of his path of destruction, managing to kick him in the ass as he barrelled past and sending him sprawling to the ground. Gosnell pushed himself up onto his arms, but Karen was right behind him, flinging herself down onto him so his arms collapsed under him. Gosnell yelled in pain and Karen paused, checking to see if she’d actually hurt him. Gosnell used this opening and swung them over, leaving Karen flat on the mat and Gosnell hovering over her practically salivating at his win. Except, it wasn’t a win. One move wasn’t going to take Karen down, not when she was so angry with Gosnell. He had her hands pinned behind her head and Cage had started his count, but Karen hooked her legs around Gosnell’s waist, surprising him enough at the contact that his hold loosened, and she sat up and headbutted him.
“You taught her that one for sure,” Frank said. “You used to use that move on me before we got together.”
“Yeah, only Karen isn’t using it to flirt.”
Frank startled and his head snapped away from the fight and to Red. “Wait, what?”
Red sighed sadly. “You were incredibly slow on the uptake. Did you see me get in that sort of intimate position with anyone else?”
“No…”
“Or let them pin my hands and legs to the floor and straddle me?”
“Let them?”
“Or grab their ass?”
“I thought that was you fighting dirty,” Frank admitted, cursing himself for not realising that Red was coming on to him years before Frank even realised he had feelings for Red. So much wasted time…Red was right, Frank was slow. Sure, fighting wasn't really the conventional way to flirt, but what were they if not original.
“Oh, it was, but two birds, one stone, you know the drill.”
“God, how did you not notice?” Nelson muttered under his breath. “Half the precinct had to take cold showers after watching you two fight.”
Gosnell was now on his ass, instinctively holding his hand to his head and rubbing where Karen had left a painful red mark. His distraction cost him; Karen lunged from her position on the floor and pinned him the same way he’d pinned her. She locked her body tightly around him and watched with glee as he started to struggle without making any traction. She was panting heavily as Cage started his countdown, and a large grin spread across her face as they got closer to the end and Gosnell started to struggle more aggressively, realising she’d won.
“You’re out, Karen wins,” Cage said and, despite his pledge to be unbiased whilst refereeing, his lips twitched up into a smile.
Everyone stood up simultaneously and cheered. Nelson, Frank and Red were the loudest as they clapped with Nelson whistling. Cage clapped Karen on the shoulder and she hopped down from the ring, practically skipping back to their group.
“Did it feel good?” Frank asked.
Karen nodded. “It felt great.” She turned to Red. “Thanks for the lessons, Matt. They really paid off.”
“You are an excellent student.”
“Maybe if we’re lucky that’ll knock the sexism out of the man,” Stahl said, and Karen snorted.
They sat down as the next fight started. They’d celebrate Karen’s victory later when the games had finished and they could drink copious amounts of alcohol without the threat of it causing an injury. Everyone in their group stopped watching the match as it wasn’t one they were involved in. Karen and Madani started discussing Karen’s fight with Gosnell and exchanging tips, and Nelson and Stahl started arguing about whether one of them could beat Gosnell in a fight. (Nelson voted yes, Stahl was reassuring him that his strengths lay elsewhere). Frank took Red’s hand in his and rubbed little circles into his skin, noticing Red’s happy little smile at the move even if he seemed to be keeping his attention focused on the ring.
It was another five matches before the moment everyone had gathered for arrived.
“Next, Matt and O’Connor,” Cage announced. There was a hint of excitement in his tone that there hadn’t been for the other fights.
There was a loud cheer and clapping from O’Connor’s end of the gym, Gosnell hollering and egging him on whilst simultaneously glaring daggers at Karen. He probably thought that after his embarrassing loss against Karen, watching one of her best friends getting annihilated by his was a consolidation prize. Everyone else around them was clapping half-heartedly, looking awkward and like they didn’t want to be there anymore.
Red stood up and stretched, turning to Frank. “You wanna escort me to the ring?”
Frank smirked. “And get a ringside seat to you destroying his homophobic ass? Always.”
Frank stood up too, linking one arm with Red’s and grabbing Red’s personal boxing gloves with the other, before turning them towards the ring where O’Connor was already bouncing on the balls of his feet and jabbing at the air like an idiot.
“Murdock?” Mandi said, making them pause.
“Yes, Captain?” Red said.
“Try not to actually kill him. I don’t want the paperwork.”
“I'll try my hardest.”
“Don’t try too hard,” Nelson muttered. “And if you can beat him within five minutes so I win the bet that’ll be great.”
“Hey, no!” Karen said, leaning forward and pointing at Nelson accusatorily. “You can’t tell him when to win. That’s cheating!”
“I’m not telling him, it’s a suggestion.”
“Oh, ‘a suggestion?’ Well, might I suggest you-”
“Good luck, Matt,” Stahl said over their squabbling. “Not that you need it.”
“Thanks.”
Frank led Red to the ring, deliberately making it look like Red was leaning on him as heavily as possible. It’d validate O’Connor’s belief Red was weak, and make it all the sweeter when O’Connor hit the mat. Red played along, moving his stick back and forth when he wouldn’t usually if someone was guiding him, and more so than necessary even then.
Frank helped Red up onto the ring and under the ropes, hopping up himself and quietly helping him put on the gloves. He stroked his wrist as he did, touching him as much as possible, and Red smiled.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?” Frank asked innocently.
“You’re going to distract me.”
“Never!” Frank said dramatically. “Not when you’ve got a fight to win.” He tightened the gloves and lowered his voice. “Seriously, how are you feeling? You feeling good about this? I know everyone is convinced you’ll smash him and his ego to pieces, including me, but it’s a lot of pressure and if you don’t feel safe…”
Red grasped Frank’s hands in his as best he could with two boxing gloves on, which was basically just squishing them between his own.
“Thank you,” Red said genuinely. “I’m not worried about it. I know on the off-chance O’Connor secretly has superpowers and is actually hurting me, you’ll jump in and save me.”
“I’ll kill him,” Frank promised. He meant it too. If O’Connor hurt his Red, Frank would be fired at best, sentenced to prison for life at worst, and he wouldn’t regret it.
“I love you,” Red said warmly. Frank knew he wouldn’t be so affectionate if Frank did kill O’Connor, he wouldn’t like anyone dead no matter what they’d done, but they were both confident it wouldn’t come to that.
“Love you too,” Frank whispered.
Frank pulled back when Cage strutted over, taking his place in the centre of the ring. Frank squeezed Red’s wrist before jumping down off the platform, and he reached up to take Red’s stick when Red handed it over to him. Frank paused a moment before hoisting himself up to Red’s level again.
“Kick his ass, Red,” Frank said, before giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “A kiss for good luck.”
Frank ignored O’Connor’s scoff and disgusted look and focused on Red’s beaming smile. “What will you do if I win?”
Frank turned his head to look O’Connor dead in the eye. “Nothing that can be spoken about in public.” He held back his grin when O’Connor started spluttering.
Red laughed. “Promises, promises. I’ll hold you to that. If that doesn’t give me a reason to win, I don’t know what does.”
Frank kissed him again before dropping down and shuffling back far enough he had a great view of the fight, but close enough that if by some miracle O’Connor actually hurt Red, Frank could jump in and beat him to a pulp.
Red and O’Connor took their places facing each other, with Cage standing between them looking like Christmas had come early. O’Connor was back to bouncing from one foot to the other, doing his practice jabs in preparation. He probably thought he looked tough and like a real boxer, but it just made him look like an idiot. A real boxer wouldn’t do that, as evidenced by Red standing still but with his weight evenly distributed and his shoulders back, a frown of concentration on his face as he settled into whatever zen place he went to when he was about to fight.
“Remember the rules,” Cage said. “No permanent damage, no broken bones,” he repeated, looking specifically at Red.
Frank thought that was unfair. Red had never done permanent damage to someone, but he had broken bones a couple of times, mostly by accident when fighting against a less-skilled opponent, but there had been a couple of times he’d let the devil out – justifiably so, but it still had an effect on him.
“Choose your own fighting style. Stop immediately if I say so. No complaints if you lose.” This time he looked at O’Connor. “Now, did you want to use weapons?”
Red twisted his head to give the appearance he was looking at O’Connor so he knew he was talking to him. “It’s up to you, O’Connor. I don’t mind either way.”
O’Connor looked like he was genuinely considering it, and Frank hoped desperately he made the unwise decision to use them. It was reckless to use a weapon against an opponent you hadn’t fought before and didn’t know their skill level, but that probably wouldn’t even enter into O’Connor’s head. He already thought he was going to have an easy win and the weapon would make him look like a badass. Frank already knew how that would go: O’Connor would choose something like the fencing sword and Red would pick the batons, O’Connor would lunge at Red and Red would knock the weapon out of O’Connor’s hand as soon as it was in striking distance and then knock him out.
Frank would pay to see that.
Unfortunately, O’Connor seemed to be struck by a momentary lapse in stupidity and shook his head. “Not this time. I’d do permanent damage to you, and I don’t wanna go to the hospital at this time of night.” He looked at Cage, ignoring Red. “I’ll win this fight without a weapon.”
“Okay,” Cage nodded. “Take your positions.”
Red raised his gloves slowly to his chest whilst O’Connor immediately held them out away from his body. He probably believed that would give him the edge as he’d get the first hit in if he was closer, but it was actually the wrong move. It made his arms weak and easy to knock away from him, which would open him up to blows.
“On my whistle, three…two…one,” Cage blew his whistle and quickly moved to the edge of the ring, his eyes glued to the match to watch for any indiscretions or broken rules. Frank knew he’d step in if things escalated too far, and he was also looking for any signs that would happen.
“Go on, Matt!” Nelson yelled from somewhere behind him, and that seemed to be the trigger for everyone else to start chanting and cheering.
Surprisingly, that made O’Connor hesitate. He took a quick glance around the room at everyone egging Red on, before meeting Gosnell’s eyes. Gosnell shrugged, confused at everyone’s reaction and confidence Red would do anything but fall over, but uncaring. O’Connor shrugged one shoulder in return and, undeterred, stepped towards Red and lunged.
In the end, the fight was extremely anticlimactic. Red took a small step to the right, dodging O’Connor’s attack. O’Connor stumbled and when he gained his footing again, Frank saw the first hint of doubt in his eyes. Because a blind man shouldn’t be able to do that. O’Connor shook it off and charged at Red again. Red hit him once in the chest which made O’Connor reel back in surprise, and Red used that moment of weakness to hit him in the stomach with a force that took the wind out of him. A kick to the leg had O’Connor on the ground and then a complicated arm twist had O’Connor’s arms restrained behind his back. A light push from Red and O’Connor fell face-first into the mat before Red pinned him.
O’Connor hadn’t even managed to get a single hit in.
Cage stepped back into the centre of the ring, crouched down to see O’Connor unable to move, waited three counts and called it.
Immediately, Red got off O’Connor, tore off one of his gloves with his teeth, and held out his hand to help him up. O’Connor hesitated for a moment, debating about whether to take the offered assistance or prioritise his pride. He chose the latter, stumbling to his feet before falling again when his leg gave out. Red kept his hand there and this time O’Connor reluctantly took it to hoist himself up, then instantly let go like he’d been burned or was afraid the gay would catch.
“Well, that was quick,” Madani chuckled.
“Is that it?!” Nelson yelled. “I gave up my romantic evening to watch that? Jesus, Matt, you could’ve at least dragged it out to five minutes so you could get a few harder punches in.”
Frank might’ve believed Nelson was actually upset at the quickness if there wasn’t very obvious glee in his tone and a bright, sadistic smile on his face.
“Who won the bet?” Red asked, sweeping his dishevelled hair out of his face as he looked up.
Jones looked down at the stopwatch in her hand. “Three minutes and forty-five seconds to Matt. Who had closest to that?” She glanced at Frank, Karen and Nelson, clearly expecting them to be the most likely winners.
Liberman grabbed the betting sheet and gave it a skim. “Frank bet under two minutes, Foggy five minutes, Karen…seven minutes?!”
Karen grimaced. “Sorry, Matt. I thought you’d be overdramatic and let it go on for fun.”
“Does that mean I win?” Nelson said excitedly. “Five minutes is closer than two.”
Liberman’s eyebrows shot up. “Actually, Colleen bet three minutes fifty-five seconds. She wins. Congrats, Colleen.”
Wing looked equal parts surprised and thrilled. Rand gasped and started hugging her. Knowing her, she’d probably written out a list of moves she thought Red would use and their corresponding times and worked it out.
Nelson shrugged. “Eh, I’ll take it. The money doesn’t matter. Only one thing does.”
Red tilted his head questioningly.
“Vengeance for Mr Mittens!” Nelson yelled, pumping the air with his fist. A few people joined in and cheered, mostly the people who had already had too much to drink.
Everyone went back to their own conversations now the main event was over and Frank clamoured up to the ring to help Red and be on standby for when it sunk in for O’Connor that he’d lost spectacularly. Frank doubted he was someone who would take the loss well.
“Well done, Red! I knew you’d smash it,” Frank said, pulling Red to the side and undid his remaining glove.
“Thanks. You know I do expect you to keep your promise and reward me for my victory.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna give you the night of your life,” Frank chuckled.
“How…?” O’Connor finally said after staring at Red for a few moments in silence. “How did you do that?”
Red turned to O’Connor. “My dad was a boxer. He showed me how to fight.”
“And nobody thought to tell me that?! If I’d known-”
“You wouldn’t have believed anyone,” Frank cut off. “You would’ve thought it didn’t matter because Matt was blind, you would’ve still fought, still lost, and still made a fool of yourself. Take the loss and move on.”
O’Connor actually seemed to consider it for half a second before he frowned and opened his mouth, probably to defend himself against Frank’s comment on him making a fool of himself.
“It was a good match,” Red interrupted quickly. “We should probably get out the way so they can start the next one.”
A quick glance towards Cage watching them with raised eyebrows was enough to confirm that so they all clambered down. Frank thought O’Connor would’ve put up more of a fight, but then again Cage was a big guy with intimidating muscles who was pretty much indestructible; O’Connor likely realised Cage would pummel him and he’d be made a fool of twice.
O’Connor paused when they were off the ring before drawing himself up. Frank rolled his eyes and didn’t try to hide it. Take the loss and shut up.
“Will you two be fighting later then?” O’Connor said, looking between Frank and Matt before focusing on Frank. “It would be interesting to see if his ‘boxing skills’ hold up against someone who knows about them and knows him and his moves, and has more experience and upper body strength.”
Oh for fuck’s sake.
How could O’Connor still prefer to talk to Frank when Red was being so nice to him still? Frank had made his position clear and would like to think he’d been very vocal and made it extremely obvious he despised O’Connor, and O’Connor still thought Frank was the only one worth talking too? O'Connor was still talking about Red like he wasn’t there. Clearly, the public humiliation and bash to the head wasn’t enough to knock the ableism out of him.
“Oh, we don’t fight,” Red said cheerily before Frank could. “It always ends messily.”
“Your relationship can’t be that strong if a little boxing causes you to argue,” O’Conner said. Frank supposed he was aiming to sound smug, but instead it gave the impression of a man grasping at any comeback he could.
“Ah, you misunderstand. It’s not that kind of messy.”
“What? What kind-”
“We fuck,” Frank said bluntly. “So unless you wanna jerk off to me and Matt rolling around on the floor, followed by him pinning me to the ground with his entire body weight and shoving his hands down my pants whilst I grope his ass, I suggest you shut the fuck up.”
O’Connor had gone a little green and Frank swore he heard a snort of laughter come from someone in the ring. It was Jones’ fight against Cage if Frank remembered correctly, so that would make sense. He was proved right when seconds later Jones hopped over the ropes and landed between the group, looking at O’Connor.
“Take it from someone who’s witnessed them ‘fighting’, nobody wants to see that. It’s bad enough seeing their lovey dovey bullshit and eye-fucking in the office, watching them do everything but actually go all the way in the ring is like watching porn – or a car crash. There’s enough blood for it.”
Red turned a blinding smile on her. “It’s cute that you think we haven’t gone all the way in the ring.”
Jones looked disgusted but there was a sparkle in her eye. “Remind me to sanitise the ring before next Fight Night.” With that she strode off to bother Karen and Madani again.
O’Connor’s head was snapping between all three of them, eyes wide and looking like he was watching a car crash.
“Be grateful it was just boxing,” Frank finished. “Believe me, Matt went easy on you. If you wanna see a real fight, instead of running away with your tail between your legs in humiliation you should stay and watch Matt fight Rand.”
“Speaking of,” Cage’s voice said from above them, making O’Connor startle in surprise. Cage looked very pleased with himself. “You up for the next match to be you and Danny, Matt? Or do you need a little more recovery time from your match with O’Connor?”
Frank snorted a loud laugh, causing several people around them to look at him curiously. Like that match had been anything actually challenging. Frank would barely call it a match. Red had looked like he’d just been taking a casual walk rather than putting any effort in. He hadn’t looked breathless, hadn’t been tired, hadn’t sweated, it was just a normal day for Matthew Murdock.
“I’m good to go,” Red said happily. He pecked Frank on the lips again before gracefully vaulting himself up onto the ring, using Frank’s shoulder as leverage. “What are we doing, Danny?” Red called, walking towards the centre. “You wanna use the swords?”
Rand was practically skipping towards the centre of the ring and hummed thoughtfully. “Freestyle? No weapons? I wanna practice close-range skills.”
O’Connor was gaping like a fish. Frank wasn’t sure whether it was the idea of a blind guy using a sword, the way Red had flawlessly hoisted himself up in one fluid, graceful movement, or that he was no longer using his stick.
“Bye, O’Connor,” Frank said pointedly. He watched as O’Connor snapped his mouth shut, took one disbelieving look at Frank, then hurried off towards Gosnell, mumbling under his breath slurs and insults that Frank chose to ignore for now in favour of watching his partner.
Red smirked cockily at Rand, but Frank noticed the way he took on a more professional defensive position in preparation. There were very few people who were actually a challenge for Red; Frank suspected he came to Fight Nights just so he could practice against them and maybe let off steam with others. Jones, Cage, Rand, and Wing were really the only true competition he had, mostly because three of them also had superpowers, and of the four only Rand fought in a style similar to Red’s. Frank used to be included in that group, fighting Red with all he had just to see his victorious smile and sweating body afterwards as he stood over Frank, but nowadays their fights usually ended up as foreplay to a spectacular night of sex.
Madani silently came up behind him and situated herself on Frank’s left, and Curt soon followed to stand on his right, drink in hand. Frank kept his eyes on Red, not wanting to miss a moment of this fight.
“I swear to God, Frank, if you get visibly turned on during this, I’m quitting,” Amy said, coming out of nowhere.
“You say that every time,” Curt said lightly. “And you’ve yet to follow through when it inevitably happens.”
“Please don’t,” Madani said. “I wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face when the commissioner asks why ‘erection’ is listed as the reason for resignation.”
“Will you lot quit it?” Frank said. “I’m trying to watch the match.”
“Yeah, Captain,” Liberman said, standing on her other side. “That’s only happened like, three times before. It would be ridiculous for someone to quit over it now, and it's unreasonable to keep bringing it up,” he said sarcastically with a wide grin on his face.
Frank didn’t care about the teasing. He couldn’t look away from Red and how beautiful he looked when he was in his element. The pure joy on his face that always appeared when Red was free to be himself without constraints, allowed to be rough and aggressive without comment, and use the skills that he was both naturally gifted at and had trained relentlessly for openly with purpose.
Watching Red – the man he loved - leap around the ring, bounce off the ropes, and do more backflips than necessary whilst Frank was surrounded by friends endlessly mocking him and how in love he was was Frank’s idea of peace, and he felt so much love he couldn’t help the small smile that worked its way onto his lips.
Eventually, Red pinned Rand in an inescapable position that had his body contorted at all angles. He was announced the winner, helped Rand up with a slap on the back and advice on how he could’ve got out of the hold, and accepted Rand’s enthusiastic hug and offer for a rematch next time.
In the next instant, Rand was bouncing up and down and glancing around the room before his focus settled on Cage.
“Are we doing the couples’ fight?” Rand asked hopefully.
Cage hummed and checked his watch, then scanned the room to take stock of which couples were still standing. “I don’t see why not. Who wants to go first?”
Frank glanced at Red. Red smirked back and nodded.
Frank grinned, shucked his jacket, and threw it in a random direction, ignoring his colleagues’ groans.
Now they were gonna see a real fight. They were gonna see what he and Red could do together. They were gonna see how strong they were and how well they worked as a team.
And yeah, they were likely gonna see a bit more than they bargained for, and more than they probably wanted to see, when Frank and Red won.