Roy was confused as to why Greg had dragged him to the middle of buttfuck nowhere late at night just to see a cornfield.
"I did say you were corny, but this is a little too on the nose," Roy said.
"It'll be worth it. Trust me." Greg replied soundly.
"I sure hope so. I can barely see."
The two finally reached a barren patch where there was absolutely no corn. Greg opened the trap door and ushered Roy down into the depths.
"How long has that been there?" Roy asked.
"At least 4 years?" Greg shrugged, "I've been coming here about 2 or 3 and I'm sure it had to be longer than that since it was pretty well established by then."
They stepped carefully down through the secret passage, following the torches that lit the area. The loud music shook the walls and made Roy stop briefly.
"Is this a strip club?" Roy looked down at Greg's bag.
"No, but there's a club attached to where we're going if you'd like to get a drink or two."
"Where ARE we going?"
"Relax. Trust me, ok?" Greg gripped Roy's hand tight.
Roy sighed, "Fine… I trust you."
As they reached the bouncer, Greg could see him light up slightly.
"The Champ of Darkside and one of the crown princes! Never thought I'd see the day." Jimmy greeted the two.
"Nice to see you too, Jimmy. Is the boss here?"
"He's in his office. You know where it is."
Greg slipped him a bag of coins and walked past him. Roy followed suit.
"You're pretty well known around here aren't you?" Roy said.
"I mean a little." Greg rubbed the back of his neck.
The music in the club boomed while different patrons and fighters all conversed or chilled near the bar.
The intercom buzzed to life suddenly, "Attention, patrons of Dark Side Fight Club! We have a few special guests with us tonight. The current champion of the ring, Flaming G, and the crown prince of Darkland, Roy Koopa!"
Everyone turned to the entrance where a spotlight lit up their position.
"Fight Club? You?" Roy slowly put the pieces together.
"Let's get that drink, huh?" They made their way through the crowd, shaking hands and signing autographs on whatever the person was holding.
At the bar, the bartender turned to him and threw him a bright red drink. She chuckled as Greg threw it back and burped up a puff of fire.
"You silly billy. Who's your friend?" She leaned closer. Her hair covered one of her eyes and her apron covered her cleavage pretty nicely.
"Monica, this is Roy. Roy, this is Manic Monica."
"I'll remember that the next time I serve you up some Fireball." She huffed.
"I'm still kinda lost," Roy said.
"Greg here is our prizefighter. Has been for almost 3 years now."
Roy turned to Greg. "You get paid to fight? And you're just telling me this now?!" He reared back and punched Greg in the arm.
"Ow! Fuck that hurt…" Greg rubbed the now red spot on his arm.
"I could've been watching you fight all this time."
"And you'd have figured out I was gay. I don't exactly hide it here." Greg was tossed another shot and threw it back. "I couldn't risk it."
"Well, how do they keep this place so exclusive, yet so lucrative?" Roy inquired.
"The owner is a huge mogul that loves himself a good scrap. You can only get in if you know someone who knows." Monica said.
"Your sister just so happened to set me up with his daughter one time. She didn't even want to really date me. She scouted me for the fight ring."
"That Trixie sure can spot talent though." Monica sighed.
"You still haven't asked her out? Bitch…" Greg rolled his eyes.
"Don't you get on me when you still haven't asked out Mr. Shades over here!" Monica shot back.
"Well… maybe I did," Greg blushed. "And maybe he's here because that's what happened."
Roy's eyes widened under his shades. "Greg!"
Monica pulled Greg over the bar into a hug. "I KNEW IT! YOU SCOUNDREL!"
"Can't… breathe."
Roy sighed. "I'm guessing you guys can keep a secret if Greg is so open about us here."
"If anyone said anything about what happened down here, they could be sued. It's on the release waiver they have you sign." Monica replied.
"I didn't sign any… oh." Roy remembered the paper Greg had him sign the day before.
"Had to keep the surprise." Greg sat back next to Roy, free of Monica's hug prison.
"You get one of those, Jones."
"It'll be worth it once you see my room." Greg took another shot, then ushered Roy to the doors on the right.
A few more bouncers stood in front of a golden door and stepped to the side when they saw Greg. "Nice to see you two again. Lemme know if the boss walks by."
Opening the doors, Greg let Roy take in the room while he sat on the couch and checked his phone. One new message? From Wendy? Ok then…
Opening the text, he began to read. His blood suddenly ran cold.
I see you're trying to weasel out of your arrangement with Heather. Trust me when I say that's not going to end well for you. You're my puppet and I'll use you as I see fit and right now Heather needs you to make Henry fall back in love with her. You will not break up until she's back together with him and I will make damn well sure that everyone knows you're a little faggot that used all those girls to keep up appearances if you even dare of chickening out now. You are mine. MINE.
Greg dropped the phone and tilted over on the couch.
Roy, hearing the thud, rushed over and checked on his boyfriend. He picked up the phone and read the message, skimming it briskly.
"That bitch! I'm gonna kill her!" Roy threw the phone onto the couch and moved towards the door.
"No!" Greg stopped Roy in his tracks. "I can handle this."
"But she's my sister!"
"And she's my problem."
"We're a couple. Your problems ARE my problems now."
Greg knew Roy had a point, but he couldn't handle the fallout from this. Greg was no stranger to damage control. "I have an idea."
Greg turned on his TV and waited a bit before the commissioner appeared on the screen.
"What can I do you for, Flaming G? And I see you have Crown Prince Roy with you."
"I want to bring Princess Wendy here for an exhibition match tomorrow. Is that ok?"
You could see the gears turning in the man's head. "That would bring in a pretty penny from my investors but what do you get out of it?"
"A chance to smack that bitch around in front of an audience."
Roy could hear the malice dripping from Greg's words.
"What'd she do to you, sonny?"
"You don't have the time to listen to my high school history, sir. I just need the ok."
"It's a deal, son. Go get her."
The TV clicked off leaving Roy and Greg alone again. Roy could feel the heat radiating around his boyfriend. He slowly yet firmly rubbed his shoulders, using his thumbs to press down the stress. Greg slumped from his aggravated position, the
heat around him dissipating as well.
"I'm sorry…" Greg said.
Roy turned him around and saw the tear tracks running down his cheeks. He kissed both sides of his face before pecking Greg on the lips. "You're hurt. I get it."
"You really don't," Greg smirked, but Roy could tell it was a front. "I've never liked girls and having to date one, even if it wasn't real, killed me on the inside. I wanted to stop, but she held all the cards and I just wanted mine back."
Roy gave Greg a hard pat on the back. "I'm still shit with sorting out feelings, but I'll be here as long as you need me."
"Th-thank you." Greg dug his fingers into Roy's shoulders as he hugged him.