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Jason stares at the holoscreen, keeping his eyes locked on the figures fighting. He’s scheduled to go up against the avian next, and he needs all the help he can get. His ears flatten on his head as the roar from the crowd outside becomes deafening when Dick, the avian, manages to disarm his opponent.
Jason snarls quietly as the tamaranean on the other side of the room gives off a stench of arousal watching the avian work. Jason does his best to block out all the noise and then smells around him, watching Dick dance around his opponent with unnecessary flips and twists, designed to show off his plumage and tail more than anything else. There’s no denying Dick has skill; he wouldn’t have lasted this long in the gladiator arena if he was all show and nothing to back it up with. The fact that Dick’s opponent hasn’t used all this time to regain his weapon and attack makes Jason roll his eyes.
The fight ends quickly after that, Dick obviously victorious, his bright blue, skin tight uniform catching the light, making him almost glow in the strength of the spotlights. Jason huffs a sigh, shifting from his position, leaning on the wall and turns to make his way to the armoury. He’ll pick up his weapon, make one final check of his own, much looser, heavy duty fighting suit, and then head out to the arena to face his first fight against the sector’s best gladiator.
If Jason had thought the noise of the crowd was bad all the way back in the fighters hall, then the roar of them as he stands behind the guard doors of the holoscreened arena is almost unbearable. His ears flatten all the way down into his hair. He readjusts his grip on his spear. It’s not his favoured weapon; those would be either his claws or his twin daggers. Neither of which he’s allowed to use in this fight, since here in the capital gladiator fights end with submission, not first blood or your opponent’s inability to continue fighting. Jason’s more used to the death matches from his own home planet, and the challenge of stopping at his opponent tapping out is almost as big a challenge as the skill that Dick has.
The guard door rises and Jason takes a deep breath before stepping out into the light. He narrows his eyes and lets his nose guide him to the centre of the massive arena, following the scent of sweat out there. The arena floor is sand, perfect for soaking up all manner of body fluids and scents. Jason’s more than used to fighting on any variety of surfaces, but sand can be a tricky one if you’re not used to it.
Dick is already out there waiting for him. To look at him, you’d have no idea that he’s faced down and won against three opponents already. He looks like he’s just rolled out of a very refreshing nap, his skin glowing and hair feathers ruffled alluringly. Jason blinks, forcing away the thoughts of how much of a pretty bird boy Dick is. He’s here to fight, to put on as much of a good show to make the betting worth it as he can. Jason’ll do his best, but he’s not delusional enough to think that he can win against the sector’s leaderboard topping gladiator.
The crowd falls silent as they step into position. The holoscreens count down to the beginning of the fight, and Jason lets everything but the figure in front of him fall away, narrowing his focus down to his prey, and only his prey. The holoscreens hit their lowest digit and return to zero. Dick moves with a speed that Jason’s not expecting, even after watching all his matches that morning.
There are frenzied slashes, flips, twists, punches and kicks, and Jason can barely follow the action as he pushes himself to keep up. He loses his spear within the first minute, and from there it’s a matter of getting Dick to either abandon his own staff, or to break it somehow. The opportunity to do that comes when Jason’s been knocked to his knees, Dick standing over him. With a strength Jason hadn’t realised a bird-based species could muster, Dick swings the staff down, hoping to land it on one of Jason’s shoulders.
Instead Jason manages to get an arm up to brace himself, twisting the staff around his forearm and into his waiting hand. In the spilt second he has while Dick’s surprised, he shoots his other hand out and snaps the staff with ease. Dick leaps back and Jason, crouched almost on all fours, manages to pounce after him. From there it’s all hand to hand combat. Despite Dick being shorter and slighter than Jason, he’s got so much more skill, and it leaves them fairly even in the fight.
The crowd starts making noises in waves, a sign that Jason’s proven that he’s more than earnt his place here; that his skill is being recognised by all watching, including the bosses. Keeping his ears flat to his skull, Jason ignores it as much as he can, instead letting his nose guide his movements as he follows the scent of exertion from Dick, and the faint tang of sand being displaced by his feet.
Dick crouches, diving for Jason’s legs. He’s clearly expecting to be able to knock him from his feet, but Jason simply bends his knees and braces. But Dick doesn’t even manage to push him back in the slightest, he’s got such a solid stance. Instead, he bends over Dick’s back, reaching down to grip his thighs, preparing to lift him upside down. He’s expecting Dick to easily flip out of the hold once he lifts him, but it’ll be a good flashy move for the crowd to go wild over.
Except Jason’s hands don’t meet Dick’s thighs. Dick’s tail might have thrown him off, standing up straight as it is, because instead his right hand grips Dick’s cheek. Jason’s got big enough hands that his fingers press deep into Dick’s crack, and his flimsy skin tight uniform does nothing to stop his digits pressing on his hole. Jason’s not sure which of them is more surprised at what’s just happened, but Dick makes a weak shocked sound, and Jason’s reflexive hand clench forces his fingers inside.
Dick lets go of Jason’s legs, moving to scramble between them and away from him. Jason twists, turning and standing, lunging for his opponent’s back. He catches one of Dick’s flailing arms, pushing him face down into the sand. He’s straddling Dick now, other arm caught in his other hand, twisting his arms up behind his back. Jason watches Dick’s vestigial wings flutter helplessly as gets him well and truly pinned under his weight. There’s a sweet tangy scent in the air coming from Dick. Jason recognises it instantly, and his mouths waters in response.
“Stop squirming! Do you want to end up with broken arms?” Jason hisses down at Dick. “Submit, and I can let you go.”
“MMMBlarffffmggh.” Dick mutters into the sand. Jason has no idea what he means, but seconds afterwards, Dick goes limp underneath him. He keeps his hold on Dick until the holoscreens declare him the winner with bright eye catching colours and huge fanfare. No one was expecting Jason to win; least of all him, and for a moment he stares up in disbelief at the holoscreen.
His upper brain finally kicks into gear and he stands, hefting Dick up with him, setting him on his feet. Dick looks around at the arena, unsure for the briefest of seconds, until the showmanship he’s so well known for kicks in and he grabs Jason’s wrist, yanking it upwards to the sky, declaring him victorious.
From there it’s a dizzying array of noise and light as Jason’s face is plastered over the holoscreens and he’s guided backstage of the arena. Holocams are shoved in his face, asking his opinion on the fight, and his strategies for defeating Dick. He answers as best he can, barely aware of what he’s saying. It’s not until he’s back in the fighters area, safe from the press that he can stop and breathe and let it actually sink in that he won. He won the fight. He can’t believe it!
Jason leans back on the wall, tilting his head back, eyes closed and revels in the fact that he won. An acrid scent reaches his nose, and he has time to open his eyes and turn his head towards it before he’s greeted with the very pissed of face of Dick, and his forearm pressed against Jason’s throat.
“What. The. Shit. Was. That?” Dick hisses, fury written across his features. His hair feathers are standing up and his bright blue eyes are flashing. “You couldn’t win fair and square, so you use dirty tactics like that?!”
“It was an accident!” Jason wheezes out from under that powerful forearm. “Honest.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Dick doesn’t lessen the pressure on Jason’s throat.
“It’s the truth.” Jason gets his head together finally and pushes off the wall, using his weight for leverage. He rests his hands on Dick’s arm and brings it down between their chests. “I wouldn’t do that to anyone, and certainly not in a fight on holoscreens!”
“You...” Dick swallows, throat bobbing enticingly as he pulls his arm out of Jason’s hands. “You say that. And yet, your hand went under my tail way to smoothly for me to believe that.”
“Are you mad you lost, or are you mad you liked it?” Jason says, letting his height naturally allow him to loom over the avian, given how close they’re still standing.
“I...” Dick opens his mouth, clearly about to deny it, and Jason decides to head off the potentially endless rounds of denial with the truth.
“I’m a lupine, remember?” Jason says, as if Dick’s not looking right into his face with his fangs and ears so clearly on show. “I could smell how much you liked it.”
Dick’s eyes narrow; and Jason can smell the way he cycles between want and anger and denial to settle into a decision. “And? What about it?”
“I might be willing to help out with that.” Jason licks his jowls quickly. “Consider it a consolation prize?”
“Please.” Dick scoffs, gaze flicking down to Jason’s fingers and lingering there. “As if your fingers could give me what I want.” But Jason can hear the way his heart rate spikes as he says it. Jason can smell the faint sweet tang of a willing fertile body wanting to be bred. But he doesn’t need either of those things to know that Dick’s lying. It’s obvious on his feathered face.
“Oh, pretty bird, I assure you both my cock and my knot are much, much, bigger than three fingers.” Jason grins, deciding to let Dick save a little bit of face and not call him on that blatant untruth. Even though Dick must know that Jason knows he’s lying.
“Prove it.” Dick says, with a whistle that Jason’s pretty sure means ‘fuck me please’. He’s got the sense not to smirk as Dick grabs him by the neckline of his fight suit and drag him off to his private locker room.
The door whooshes shut behind them. Seconds later, Dick’s uniform is in a puddle on the floor, and Dick himself is stretched out on a luxurious looking bed, legs spread, with a ‘come hither’ look on his face.
“Fuck...” Jason whispers, yanking his own fight suit off without another single thought.
“Prove it, Jason.” Dick trills out needily. “Prove you’re a real winner.”
“Hell yeah!” Jason pounces onto the bed, laughing despite himself.
Today, he not only won his fight, but he’s balls and knot deep into the prettiest being he’s ever seen. This is the best day of his life.