UFC Slash. Strong Language. Adult scenes.
..."
Alexander Gustafsson Stripped Naked. He closed the door. He did what he did every Thursday. He was In the Bathroom. He pulled the scales out of the cupboard. He stepped on them and hoped that he wasn't a total lard-ass. Gustafsson closed his eyes and waited for a huge number. He saw the Scale Lights Blink.
Then he got the result, He was Two Twenty. Not bad. UFC 178 was months away. He didn't know why he was weighing himself now. He didn't know why he was so petrified. Gustafsson wasn't scared of Jon Jones. Why would a Gustafsson be scared of a Has-Been Champ he'd already beaten?
..."
Gustafsson had pulled up the curtain. Gustafsson had shown UFC fans the light. He'd exposed Jones for who he really was. A fraud, a fake, a well run spoilt PR machine with an ego the size of Texas. As soon as Dana White announced the UFC 178 Main event, butterflies grew in Gustafsson's stomach.
He couldn't let UFC 178 go to a decision. He couldn't let the judges screw him over, like the last time. To clear his head, Gustafsson went out for a run. He pulled on Jogging bottoms, a T-shirt, and a cap. He ran down the street. He passed the park. He went into the City. It was harder to run in there.
..."
There were lights and traffic. The bars were open and there were drunk people everywhere. Drinking, play-fighting, you name it, they did it. Gustafsson thought he'd found a safe place to tie his Trainer laces. He crouched in a corner and bent down. Seconds later, his back felt wet.
"Fuck, Nate!" He heard someone say. Gustafsson got up. He felt something run down his back. He looked up and saw The Diaz Brothers.
..."
"Look...Sorry Al. Nate's fucked you know? I told him to stick to shit with Lemonade in it" Nick said.
Gustafsson wiped the back of his shirt and saw the vomit. He brushed his hands on his trousers. People were staring at him.
"Al, I'm taking Nate home. I can drop you off" Nick said.
..."
"I don't want to make your car smell" Gustafsson said. Nick shrugged.
"It's cool" Nick said. With the sweat bringing out the smell of Nate's puke, Gustafsson got in the car.
"So Gus I heard you're taking on Jones again...are you gonna fucking like, fuck him up? Like the last time? Did you appeal the last time? How much are they paying Jones to fight you again?" Nate asked.
..."
"You're chatty when you're drunk" Gustafsson told him.
"Don't worry. He's gonna puke again. Then he'll go to sleep" Nick said.
"Oh, well, I didn't appeal the last Jones' fight. Maybe I should have but...The judges gave Jones a unanimous decision. So..." Gustafsson voice trailed off as both he and Nick heard the splatter of more puke in the back seat.
..."
"Nate, just sleep it off. Okay?" Nick asked his Little Brother.
"K" Nate whispered. Nick's Little Brother sank into the Back seat. Nate also took his seat belt off. When Nick got back he helped Nate get to his room.
"Is Nate okay?" Gustafsson asked.
..."
"Yeah, he's just wasted" Nick said. They sat down on the sofa, watching TV. An MMA News show came on. Ariel Helwani was talking to Dana about Gustafsson and Jones. It wasn't long before Gustafsson told Nick that he was nervous about it.
"You've faced more Champions than me Nick. Any advice?" Gustafsson asked.
..."
"Nah. You wanna Knock Jones out?" Nick asked.
"I just wanna finish him. I don't care how" Gustafsson said.
"Get up" Nick said getting up from the sofa himself.
..."
"Why?" Gustafsson asked.
"Show me how you box" Nick said. Gustafsson got up. Both Fighters Shadow Boxed in front of each other. Gustafsson was a little embarrassed. He'd heard that Diaz's Boxing style was legendary. He Shadow Boxed. He saw Nick stare at him and stopped.
"What?" Nick asked.
..."
"In front of you...I know I'm doing it wrong" Gustafsson said.
"Give me an over-hand right" Nick said.
"Nooo...I mean...Nick...maybe I should just run home" Gustafsson said.
"Who are you? Condit? Just show me one fucking punch" Nick pressed.
..."
Gustafsson was taller than Nick. He looked at his hand. He Made it into a fist and threw the Over-hand at Fifty Percent power.
"Duck this" Gustafsson said. He threw the right. His fist was shaking. He meant to stop near Nick's ear. But To see the punch, Nick had turned in slightly. Gustafsson's punch connected with Nick's cheek. Nick staggered back onto the sofa.
"Shit...Nick are you okay?" Gustafsson asked.
..."
"Yeah" Nick said shaking his head to blur out the pain. "It's cool. I've been hit harder"
"Sorry" Gustafsson said. He sat down and stroked his hand on the side of Nick's face.
"There's no bruising Nick" Gustafsson said.
..."
"I ain't a model you know. I'm a fighter" Nick said.
"Really? You look like a model" Gustafsson said smiling. He meant it too. But Nick scowled back.
"Fuck you" Nick said.
..."
"Sure" Gustafsson said. He leaned over and kissed Nick on the cheek that he punched. Nick turned towards him and Kissed him back. Gustafsson took his shirt off. He'd been dying to get it off. It still smelled of Nate's vomit. Nick kept his T-shirt on and both Fighters made out on the sofa.
It would have been easier for Gustafsson to take over. It would have been a breeze to kiss Nick until he was flat and pin him to the sofa by his arms.
But Gustafsson didn't.
..."
Maybe it was because he felt guilty about the punch. Nick didn't appear to be hurt though. He took down Gustafsson's jogging bottoms and put his hand in Gustafsson's boxer shorts.
Nick rubbed his palm against his dick. Gustafsson's face flushed red. Nick took Gustafsson in his mouth. He made Gustafsson rigid with hard tongue strokes. As he went slower, Gustafsson rubbed Nick's shoulders. But Nick shook him off.
..."
Gustafsson could feel the seconds tick. He knew he was going to explode in Nick's mouth.
Three,
Two...
"Nick? Nick are you up?" Nate called from upstairs.
..."
"No...Nick don't...don't stop" Gustafsson said pulling Nick's head closer onto him. But it didn't work.
Nick got off of Gustafsson and wiped himself with his T-shirt.
"Hurry the fuck up. Put your shirt on" Nick said pointing to Gustafsson's shirt on the floor.
..."
"Nate, I'm coming!" Nick shouted.
"At least one of us is coming tonight. I didn't" Gustafsson said putting his T-shirt on.
"Not funny. You should go" Nick said.
..."
Nick turned the TV up and went to the Bathroom. He brushed his teeth and sprayed himself with deodorant. His Little Brother couldn't smell anything. Nate Diaz was suspicious of Nick already. Nick didn't need Nate hassling him.
By the time Nick came out of the Bathroom, Gustafsson was gone.