The cage falls around him, and Elon's fate is sealed.

He'd been prepping for this fight for months. He'd spent what to anybody else would have been a fortune on as many trainers as he could get, strengthening both his body and mind to be ready. He'd also gotten one to make a diet for him to ensure he would be at peak strength for this. For a man at the age of 52, he was in the best shape he could possibly be in. With all that training, he should be ready for this. He should be.

But he's not. For two reasons.

The first is obvious. As his opponent stands across from him in the cage, Elon is immediately able to tell just from a glance that Mark has done the same thing he's done; his body is as toned as it's ever been. Except Mark is 39 years old, and was in much better shape before he started training. Despite the massive height difference - with Elon standing a full six inches taller - Elon knows that Mark is physically stronger than he is. He'd had been so confident until he stepped in the ring - but his opponent clearly took this as seriously as he did, and while he can't see it physically, he knows for a fact that Mark also hired people to train his skills.

Elon stares at Mark's face, trying to avoid eye contact with his hazel gray eyes that seem to stare straight into his soul. Mark is always smiling in every photo he posts - but the smile is gone now, replaced with fierce determination. His abs look rock hard as he looks up to meet Elon's green eyes from across the cage. Elon feels his body heat up immediately - not just from how menacing Mark looks, but from the eye contact. He timidly diverts eye contact, staring directly at the floor, a grimace across his face.

And with that comes the second reason; for some reason he can't quite figure out, Elon can't get Mark out of his head.

His toned body is not helping, obviously, but even before that there was always something about him. His eyes, a beautiful shade of hazel gray, are almost hypnotizing in a way that makes Elon want to keep looking, despite knowing how bad of an idea it would be. His laughter that Elon heard in interviews somehow puts Elon at ease, makes him feel like everything is going to be alright, despite the animosity between them. And…his dick…

Elon remembers the date exactly. The date where he first realized what was happening. It was July 9th, right after Mark had created Threads to directly compete with Twitter. He had made what, at the time, was a simple insult: "Zuck is a cuck". His audience loved it; and how could they not? The idea of Mark Zuckerberg, famous CEO, watching his wife get fucked by a man much bigger than him - but it was there that Elon stopped thinking about how funny his insult was and about how big Mark must be. He thought about it for a while; how big was it? Did it curve? Was it veiny? For eight hours, Elon couldn't get it out of his mind. He then eventually followed up his joke by proposing a dick measuring contest, thinking that might help clear his mind - but it did anything but.

For the last six months, no matter how much he tried to stop, Elon couldn't stop thinking about Mark's cock. He wondered if it really WAS big, and what it would look like attached to his body. He wondered how it would taste if he were to lick it or put it fully into his mouth. He wondered how it would feel penetrating his virgin butthole, which had never once had anything inserted inside it; after all, Elon wasn't gay. And with that, Elon started noticing everything else about Mark.

And now, for the first time, Elon was seeing him in person. And…holy shit.

A camera could never catch the way his skin sparkled and shone, slightly sweaty already. It could never capture the way his lips were so, SO soft looking. It could never capture the sparkle in his eyes as they glance around at the crowd and land back at Elon.

It could never capture the pure sexiness that Mark radiates in the cage.

Elon was so distracted that the sound of the announcer starting the match is barely audible to him. He only fully realizes when he sees Mark start moving closer.

In a cage match, the goal is to escape the cage by any means necessary. Some opponents would just run to the wall as fast as possible, hoping to escape their opponent's pulling them back down. But that would be cowardly, and both Elon and Mark knew the other wouldn't do that. Except as Mark approaches him, his fists raised, Elon suddenly feels the intense urge to run. Fuck looking cowardly; the look in Mark's eyes makes Elon think Mark is actually going to kill him tonight.

But just before he turns around and tries to climb out, he listens. The roar of the crowd is deafening and surrounds them both. It's clear that many of them are fans of Mark - but Elon's fans care far more about this than Mark's fans do. Elon estimates at least 70% of the crowd is here for him, maybe more. And how would it look if Elon ran now? With the world's eyes on him? It would never matter how much money he had, how many companies he owned - he'd forever be known as the coward who ran away from Mark Zuckerberg. His reputation would be ruined.

So, against his better interests, Elon puts up his fists, hoping the cameras aren't high definition enough to capture how they quiver slightly.

Mark is already halfway across the cage by the time Elon comes to his senses. Elon quickly attempts to close the gap, but inevitably, he's left with less space to maneuver, only having a third of the cage at best as his "territory". There's a second that lasts an eternity, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Hazel gray meets green, yet all they see is red.

It's Mark who hits first; a jab aimed directly at Elon's face. Elon blocks, but only just; the punch is faster than anything he was expecting, and ends up hitting his wrist. It's not seriously hurt, but it's not a pleasant feeling.

But Elon doesn't have time to think about that, because Mark's already seen his moment of weakness. The moment Elon winced as the punch hit his wrist, Mark suddenly throws a right hook at his abdomen. The punch is far too fast; Elon simply takes it and stumbles backwards three steps, clutching his abdomen in pain. He refuses to make a sound, but he wants to scream. When you're as powerful as Elon is, people don't punch you. He hasn't been punched since high school, and now, the feeling is almost foreign to him.

He glances back up at Mark, who's already walking forward to continue his assault, barely giving Elon a moment to rest. Elon wants to think he's ready now, but he knows deep down he's only saying that to try and psyche himself out. But he knows he can't just sit here and take it. Despite the growing pain, he raises his fists again.

There's a moment where Elon thinks he actually has a chance. It's when Mark throws three punches in quick succession straight at his face, but Elon, his fists already raised to protect himself and he manages to block all three. The feeling of completely shutting down his attack like that is euphoric; and for a split, fraction of a second, Elon grins.

Then Mark punches Elon straight in the gut, and his grin vanishes.

Elon stumbles back in excruciating agony (well, agony for a billionaire, at least). He can't physically feel it, but he knows the cage wall is right behind him, its imprisoning presence preventing his escape. He can hear the "OH" of the crowd as the punch sends him backwards and clutching his chest. He can see that Mark towers over him now instead of the other way around, and realizes that he's flat on his ass. He needs to get up - he NEEDS to -

Elon gasps as Mark grabs his hair and forces him to look up, moving his face closer. For the first time in the match, Mark is smiling, an almost devilish grin on his face. Mark's smile is normally nice to look at, but for once, it terrifies Elon.

Their faces are now inches from each other. Elon feels Mark's breath, hot on his face and he chuckles. Elon is reminded of just how soft his lips look, how beautiful his eyes are when they're THIS close, staring directly at him. His head is still being forced to look up by Mark, but he glances down and notices what he's been trying his hardest to ignore this entire match; Mark's tight shorts make it clear he has a massive bulge. Elon doesn't even have to physically see it to know that not only is it big, it's far bigger than his.

Mark's chuckles stop, but the smile remains as he opens his mouth. "All that bluster," he begins. "All of that confidence…all of that, and you don't even throw one punch? I have to admit, I'm a little disapp-"

Elon doesn't hear the rest of it. The entire time he spoke, all he could think about was his silky smooth voice, his soft lips, his eyes, his bulge…

Elon's already been emasculated. His reputation is ruined.

So why not go all the way?

As Mark talks, Elon forces his head up to his lips and kisses him.

Elon's not entirely in control of himself. But he knows this is what he wants. He knows it's what he needs, more than anything else right now. His lips lock with Mark's and his passion flows through his mouth - the past six months of longing spilling out and into Mark's mouth.

Mark's eyes shoot open in shock as he does it, and at first he tries to pull away. But he doesn't. Because, despite the fact that he's married and has three kids, he's never felt anything like this before. So, instead, he just closes his eyes and wraps his arms around Elon, holding him tightly by his waist.

For a moment, the crowd is silent, and somehow, their silence is louder than their cheers. But it's only for a moment.

The crowd then explodes into chaos.

Nobody can make out what they're seeing. Just a second ago, these two were enemies, but now they're kissing with the passion of a married couple? Was this planned? Is this a joke? Surely it has to be a joke, they think. But as the kiss continues far past the point of being funny, they realize that no, it's serious. It's real. Elon Musk and Mark Zuckerberg are gay for each other. Elon fans, who are dominantly homophobic, fall to their knees in shock and horror. How could their Elon do this? How could he be the cringe virgin instead of the based chad? How could this happen?

But to Elon and Mark, this doesn't exist. The only thing that exists is each other as their tongues explore the others mouths, finding all the crevices and secrets they hold, running along each other's teeth as they taste each other for the first time. The feeling is heaven for both of them. It's like they've both found what they've been looking for all their life, despite not knowing they were looking for anything at all.

A minute passes before they pull away for air. They both gasp for breath as a trail of saliva runs between their mouths, connecting them still. Elon's tongue hangs slightly out as he stares at Mark, his mouth agape.

At last, Mark speaks again. "What…what the fuck was that?"

Elon smiles. "I don't know what came over me…but I loved it. I love you, Mark."

Mark doesn't speak for a moment. But then, "Take off your pants," he says dominantly.

Elon falters for a moment. "Here?" he asks. "But…there's so many cameras. So many people…"

Mark places a hand on his shoulder, his other hand already fumbling with his own pants. A smile is on his face. It's not the evil grin from earlier; this one is genuine and warm. "Let them watch," he says. "It'll make for great television."

Up in the studio, there is silence. They've been rendered speechless by the display of sheer love in the cage.

"...what the fuck do we do now?" says one poor, poor employee who was hired just last week and wasn't trained for this. "...I…I guess we turn off the cam-"

"No," says Mr. White, the president of the Ultimate Fighting Championship and sponsor of the fight. "Keep the cameras rolling. Fuck it, zoom in, even."

"S-sir? Surely you're joking, right?" says another employee who thought she'd seen everything until now. "I mean…I think they're taking off their pants…"

Mr. White turns to the employee and grins. "I'm not," he says excitedly. "This! This is the best show we've ever had! That we're ever GOING to have! Who fucking cares if it gets us shut down for a bit! We have the money to tell them to fuck off! So zoom in and record, for fuck's sake! Or you're fired!" And with that, he turns back to the scene, looking out with his own eyes through the glass, a chuckle forming at his lips.

With a sigh, the employee zooms the camera in on the two, watching as Zuckerberg's cock slips out. "Just keep the camera rolling, Pamela…think about your paycheck…" she says, trying not to vomit.

The crowd screams as Mark's cock slips out, many trying to get out of the arena as fast as possible, but Elon is entranced. It's exactly as he imagined it; a full ten inches, long, straight, and thick. He just stares for a moment, his pants halfway off, unable to take his eyes off it. "God…" he manages to say.

Mark chuckles, a warm smile on his face. "Impressed?" he asks, knowing the answer already.

Elon, unable to speak, just nods slowly. He's drooling a little bit.

Mark laughs heartily. But his face quickly shifts to a sultry one. He leans in. "Now, your turn…" he whispers into Elon's ear as he pulls down Elon's pants, Elon gasping as he does so.

Elon's cock is of average size. It's nothing to write home about, but not disappointing in isolation - but it's not in isolation. Compared to Mark's behemoth, Elon's is nothing. Elon blushes and looks sheepishly at the ground. "Um…" he manages after a moment. "Now you, uh…see why I never went through with that measuring contest…"

Mark puts his hands on Elon's shoulders, causing Elon to jolt and look back up at his eyes. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Mark says to Elon with a smile. "But it does mean I'm the top. Get on your back."

Elon is so used to being at the top of the food chain that someone ordering him around feels weird. But Mark's tone of voice leaves no room for defiance; he complies immediately, getting on his back, his butthole exposed to Mark.

Mark chuckles as he gets down on his knees and strokes his cock. "I'm sorry we don't have any lube," he says sincerely. "I could go grab something real quick. I'm sure I have some vaseline in my limo -"

"No," Elon almost yells. "I…I can't wait any longer. I can take it. Just put it in…please…"

Mark looks into Elon's eyes and laughs. "Alright, you dirty little slut…but don't say I didn't warn you."

Elon almost moans as Mark calls him a slut. In addition to discovering his love for submitting, he's discovering that he loves to be degraded. "Y-yes…I'm your dirty little slut."

Mark hums. "Mmm…yeah you are…" he whispers almost inaudibly over the remaining crowd, his cock hovering directly next to Elon's asshole, the head sometimes brushing against his cheeks.

Elon whimpers. "I can't fucking take it anymore…please, I need it…please, put it in, please, please…"

Mark laughs. "No need to beg…here you go." And in one swift motion, he slides the entire ten inches into Elon's hole.

Elon moans loudly. "F-fffffhuuuuck!" he cries out, already feeling halfway to orgasm just from insertion. "G-god…it's so fucking biiiig…"

Mark laughs once again. "Yeah it is, you dirty whore. But you haven't seen anything yet." And with that, he begins thrusting, slowly at first.

Elon's body quivers with each thrust. "Fuck…fuck…" he pants, feeling out of breath even at this slow pace. "God…keep going…fuck…"

Mark chuckles, not saying anything. Then he begins thrusting faster.

Elon's body shakes as the thrusts increase in speed. "Fuck! Fuck! Oh god, it feels so fucking good!" He moans loudly. As he does, he feels a feeling welling up inside him; one he knows well, even if he's never reached it in this way. "I think I'm gonna cum…I'm fucking cumming…!"

Mark leans his face into Elon's. "Already?" he questions with a faux-mocking tone. "Go ahead then, you little whore…"

Elon moans loudly. "F…FUCK!" he says, and then he ejaculates violently. It's the most intense orgasm of his entire life, and he reached it in just a couple minutes. His cum shoots over Mark's stomach, but it mostly falls onto his own, covering him in his own ecstasy. "H-holy…shit…" he pants slowly, as Mark gives him a break.

Mark chuckles in that same mocking way. "Look at you…getting my chest all dirty…you should be ashamed of yourself."

Elon pants heavily, trying to catch his breath. "I…I'm sorry, dad-Mark! I'm sorry Mark!"

Mark's chuckle increases in volume. "No, no," he says, wagging his finger mockingly. "You definitely almost said "Daddy" there. I like it when you do that. Keep calling me that."

Elon whimpers, but knows it's useless to resist…and that a part of him likes it anyways. "Y…yes, daddy…sorry, daddy…"

Mark smiles mischievously. "Oh, don't worry. I know how you can make it up to me…" he says. Then, without warning, he flips Elon over onto his stomach.

"Oof!" Elon says, feeling his stomach hit the ground. It's still slightly bruised from the punch he took earlier, and he can now feel his own warm cum being smeared on his stomach as he lies on it. "Oh…oh my god…"

Mark stands up and grabs Elon's hips, forcing his ass into the air. Mark watches as Elon's cock continues to leak it's cream slowly. "I'm not quite done with you yet. But for getting all this on my stomach, I think I'm gonna be as rough as I want with you."

A part of Elon is worried, but Elon finds that his voice of reason is growing smaller and smaller as lust takes over. "YES!" he yells, overcome by his urges. "Fucking use me, daddy! Turn me into your little cocksleeve! Make me your toy!"

Mark laughs again. "Ask and you shall receive." And without warning, he shoves his cock back into Elon's hole.

For several minutes, Elon and Mark go at it. Mark thrusts without remorse, as Elon moans for more, bucking his hips as he presses himself onto Mark's cock, trying to get every last inch in his ass. By this point, most of the crowd has left, save for a few who are either too petrified to move or too aroused to move. At home, several parents cover the eyes of their children as the other fumbles with the remote, trying to get the TV off as fast as possible. Elon stans watching at home sob on their knees, not knowing how to comprehend seeing their daddy Elon call another man Elon and get dicked down on live TV. Priscilla Chan, Mark's wife, has already put the children to bed as she didn't want to risk them watching their father get beat up; she's now got a gun in her mouth as tears run down her cheeks, watching her husband of 11 years dick down a man as she contemplates suicide.

But to Elon and Mark, all that matters is each other. They have all they need right there in that cage.

Elon moans loudly. "D-daddy…" he whines.

Mark is moaning by this point too. "Calm down…I'm almost done…" he whispers.

Elon drools. "So a-am I…"

"T-then…we'll cum at the same time…"

"Y-yes! Cum in me! Fill my bussy with your baby batter!"

A chorus of moans rings out from the cage as both lovers close in on ecstasy. Then, at last, there's a moan that rings out at the same time from both, louder than the rest. Elon's erect penis shoots his entire load in spurts onto the floor of the arena; meanwhile, Mark's load goes inside of Elon's ass, which can be seen after a few seconds as it begins overflowing with his seed.

There's panting from both parties. Mark pulls out and his seed pours from Elon's hole, dripping onto the floor. Then, he moves over to Elon and flips him onto his side, leaning down and shoving his cock to his mouth. "Clean it off, whore~" he says seductively.

Elon does so without hesitation, taking the tip into his mouth as he cleans Mark's ecstasy off his penis without a second thought. The taste is so erotic that Elon can feel himself being re-energized, ready for yet another round.

As he finishes cleaning it, his saliva still stuck to it, he pulls himself to his feet. His legs shake hard from his duel orgasm, but he manages to get himself just high enough to fall into Mark's arms and kiss him again. Mark accepts without a second thought as Elon leans into him.

As they separate once again, Elon looks down and sees Mark's cock is still erect. He smiles. "Ready for round 2?" he says in a sultry voice.

Mark smiles. "You know I am, you little slut. Bend over."

Elon knows as he bends over that this is the happiest he's ever been.