Joey walked into the locker room with the schedule for tomorrow's qualifiers. Leon sat on a bench, wrapping his hands with surgical precision. He didn't look up.

"Get two guys over here for sparring," Leon said. His voice was a flat, dangerous rasp.

Joey gripped the clipboard tighter. The sparring partners from the morning session were currently face-down in the recovery room.

"Didn't you just finish a session?" Joey asked, keeping his hand on the door handle.

Leon's steel-gray eyes snapped up. The air in the room suddenly felt like it was made of lead. Beneath that calm exterior, something was boiling.

"You want to take their place?" Leon asked.

Joey bolted out the door. He didn't need to be told twice. Whatever argument Leon had with his "lamb," Joey wasn't going to be the one to pay for it.

The next day, every screen at WK was glowing with Leon's name. The "Friendly League" match was technically an exhibition, but the two schools had a history of turning games into bloodbaths.

Jamie nudged Lucien during their morning lecture, sliding over a carton of milk. "Why aren't you at the ringside with him?"

"Schedule's full," Lucien muttered. He stared at his textbook, but the words were a blur.

"Bet you love it," Jamie whispered, winking. "Your boyfriend is the hottest topic on campus. Does it give you a rush?"

Lucien's pen hovered over the page. He could practically feel the heat of Leon's return. He was going to be "stir-fried lamb" the second Leon walked through the door.

He pulled out his phone and opened his chat with Leon. The man's last message was from a minute ago, reminding him to wear a jacket and eat on time.

Lucien bit his lip. He typed: Husband! Good luck with the match!!

He exhaled slowly. He just hoped Leon wouldn't be too "explosive" when he got back.

After class, Lucien and Jamie fought through the crowd to the second floor. A massive video wall displayed the live broadcast.

The match was in its second round. Lucien didn't look at the score; his eyes were locked on the man in the black trunks. Leon looked uninjured, but his fighting style was terrifying.

"Leon is brutal today," a student nearby whispered.

"Grace is an aggressive fighter," another replied. "Leon should be playing defense, but he's just... charging."

Lucien gripped Jamie's sleeve. "Is it bad?"

"He's fighting like he wants to end this in ten seconds," Jamie noted, his eyes wide.

A roar erupted from the screen. Lucien's heart skipped. Grace was on the canvas, his face twisted.

Leon stood over him, chest heaving, looking like a wolf that had finally cornered its prey. He didn't celebrate. He just waited for the referee to finish the count.

Grace stayed down.

The building shook with the cheers of the students. Lucien stood frozen as the referee raised Leon's hand. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck.

The cafeteria was a sea of gossip by lunchtime. Every table was dissecting the KO.

"His fist hit Grace's face so hard I thought the camera would break," a guy shouted, slamming the table.

Lucien poked at his chicken leg, muttering in Chinese under his breath. "North American Wu Song."

"What's that?" Jamie asked.

"A hero from my country," Lucien said, his ears turning pink. "He kills tigers with his bare hands. And he's a heavy drinker."

Jamie laughed, then leaned in. "Bar tonight? We should celebrate the victory."

Lucien shook his head frantically. "I can't."

Leon was coming back tomorrow. If he went to a bar and Leon found out, he wouldn't be able to walk for a week.

"I'm staying in," Lucien decided, gripping his bag. "I have... studying to do."

---

Lucien's head throbbed after a full day of lectures. He grabbed a roll from a street vendor and trudged toward the dorms.

A familiar sports car sat at the curb. Lucien froze. He rubbed his eyes, but the sleek frame didn't disappear.

The window slid down. Leon Bolton's face was cold, stripped of the polite mask he usually wore for the cameras.

"Get in the car, baby," Leon said. His voice was a level, dangerous rasp.

Lucien's knees felt like water. He took two steps back toward the dorm entrance. "I'm... I'm going inside."

Leon smirked. The expression didn't reach his steel-gray eyes. "Should I come out and get you? Right here?"

Lucien glanced at the students wandering the quad. Leon was the campus icon. A public scene would be on the front page by morning.

Lucien scrambled into the passenger seat. He clutched his backpack against his chest.

Leon's gaze dropped to the roll in Lucien's hand. His jaw tightened. "That's your dinner? Did I tell you to eat real food or not?"

"I wasn't that hungry," Lucien muffled. Leon didn't answer. He threw the car into gear and sped toward the apartment.

The silence in the car was heavy. When they reached the garage, Lucien stayed glued to his seat.

"Want to do it here?" Leon asked. "Car sex? We'd need a different ride. This one is too cramped."

Lucien scrambled out of the car. He almost tripped over his own feet.

Leon caught his hand. He laced their fingers together, his palm hot and calloused. "Why are your hands sweating, Lucien?"

"I missed you, husband," Lucien tried. He leaned into Leon's side, acting small and soft.

Leon looked down at him. "How did you miss me? By grinding against my shirt on camera? Or by letting me listen to some guy hit on you? Or was it telling your friend I'm useless?"

Lucien's face went white. He dropped his head, staring at his sneakers.

Inside the apartment, Lucien changed into his slippers. Leon went straight to the kitchen.

He'd already stocked the fridge. He boiled a pot of chicken shredded noodles.

Lucien sat at the table. "You're the best, Leon. It smells amazing. My mouth is watering."

Leon leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "I thought you weren't hungry?"

Lucien choked on his own spit. Leon gestured to the bowl. "Eat. Don't burn yourself. I'm taking a shower."

Lucien watched the bathroom door. He calculated his chances of bolting. The front door felt miles away.

Leon emerged minutes later, steam clinging to his broad shoulders. He walked to the table to clear the empty bowl.

Lucien hugged the ceramic dish. "I... I'm still hungry. I want more."

Leon let out a dry, humorless laugh. He pinched the back of Lucien's neck like he was handling a kitten.

"Delaying won't help, baby," Leon whispered. "Don't eat too much. You'll vomit when I'm hitting the back later."

Lucien spun around to run. Leon snagged him by the waist and hoisted him up.

The man who could knock a bull unconscious handled Lucien like a fragile toy. He stripped Lucien's pants in one motion.

Thwack.

A sharp crack echoed in the living room. Lucien gasped, his eyes wide. "You hit me!"

Thwack.

"Didn't you say I was violent? Bad temper?" Leon noted. "I'm just meeting your expectations."

Lucien's rear burned. He sobbed into the sofa cushions. "I'm sorry, Leon. I'm really sorry."

Leon's hand settled on the reddened skin. "Where's my shirt, Lucien?"

"It's at the dorm," Lucien whispered. He tried to rub the sting away, but Leon didn't move.

Leon went to the bedroom. He returned with a black silk dress shirt. He tossed it onto Lucien's lap.

"Do it," Leon commanded. "What you did on the video call. Right here. In front of me."

Lucien froze. "Right now?"

"Don't waste my time," Leon said, checking his watch. "Do it well, and I might let you sleep tonight."

Lucien knelt on the sofa. He hugged the black silk against his chest. Tears hung off his lashes.

Leon watched him. He didn't move a muscle. His gaze was a physical weight on Lucien's skin.

Lucien's fingers were clumsy. He rubbed the fabric against himself, his face a violent shade of pink.

The shirt was soon stained and wrinkled. Lucien looked up, his lips trembling. "Husband, please. I can't."

Leon's self-control snapped. He hauled Lucien up and pinned him against the floor-to-ceiling window.

Lucien looked down at the city lights. He looked like a delicate figurine in Leon's massive grip.

"You lied," Lucien sobbed, his hands pressing against the glass. "You said you'd let me go."

"I said I'd let you go if you did it well," Leon growled into his ear. "You were terrible."

Leon gripped Lucien's ankle, pulling his leg high. He kissed the arch of the boy's foot.

"Baby," Leon rasped against his skin. "Be a good boy for me."