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Chapter Text

Lørdag

September 21st, 2018

21:56

The blood was pounding in his ears, each pulse reminding him of how the doctor nearly stopped the bout earlier in round one. The crimson rivulets were coating his lips and staining his teeth, crashing over his gums like lazily lapping waves. This had to be the finish if he was going to win this fight. His takedowns were consistent throughout the contest, but they hadn't materialized in anything. A seemingly frantic pair of sea foam orbs darted to the clock. Fuck. He felt his opponent trying to angle out of his grip, the blood making it easier to do so. But then it happened. Instinct and muscle memory took over and all of a sudden, he felt the fight in his fellow competitor drain rapidly. He didn't even notice that it was over until the referee was shouting 'Stop' and he was rolling out from underneath his foe.

   His brain was telling his body to take a victory run around the cage, but his calves we're wincing in agony so he settled for a leisurely winners stroll. His opponent was sitting against the opposite end of the fence, looking simultaneously disappointed and bewildered. The blonde gave his vanquished enemy a tentative smile and kneeled beside him. "I know you lost, but you don't need to be sad. Fuck man, I thought you were gonna finish me at the end of the first." The words got a wistful twitch of a smile from his fellow fighter. "Hahah, shit, I did too." The young man laughed once he saw he'd put his opponent at ease. His amiable smile shifted into a more serious expression. "But hey, you're a fucking warrior mate. Alright? Win lose or draw you're a fucking warrior brother." The other man nodded his head subtly and the two exhausted competitors shared a brief embrace.

   "Alright lads let's go!", the ref told the young men. The fighters stood in the center of the decagon as the final result of the fight was told to the arena by the booming voice of the announcer. "Ladies and gentlemen referee Jan Mirdek has called a stop to this contest at four minutes and twenty one seconds into the third round. For your winner via triangle choke.....Isak 'The Little Viking' Valtersen!" Isak felt a swell of pride in his chest looking over to his team as they rushed to embrace and elevate him. No matter how many times he won a fight, no matter how many times his hand got raised by the ref, that feeling of satisfaction, of gratitude, of pure, unadulterated joy never went away. But there was something else that never went away either. That bitter, cynical voice tucked away in a cramped dark cave in Isak's mind. A voice that chuckled cruelly while he tried desperately to ignore it. A voice that looked him dead in the eyes and sneered. "Think they'd still be cheering if they knew you were a faggot?"

Chapter Text

Mandag 

September 22nd, 2018

10:35

His eyes opened slowly, the twilight shadowing of his room fooling him for a split second. Isak yawned loudly before lazily throwing his legs over the side of the bed. His first order of business was to kill this ache in his calves. After taking a few puffs from his CBD pen Isak slowly cracked his neck and back and ventured out into the rest of his shared apartment. He could hear the low rumbling of his coach's voice before he entered the kitchen. "I just think it's bullshit. Newell has this fucking incredible story, he's a legit black belt, and he's fun to watch and Dana goes with fucking Greg Hardy? I mean, not only is the guy a piece of shit, but literally anyone on the heavyweight roster right now would mop the floor with him."

Isak glanced over from where he was standing rifling through the fridge to smile at his boxing coach. "So you've gotten your blurb for Bloody Elbow memorized I see." Elias gave a fond scoff and gently shoved Isak's shoulder. "And you're still waddling like an emperor penguin. You know if I had known you weren't going to use any of the calf kick checks Chris taught you I would've told him to focus more on your head movement." Isak balked, fake indignation crossing over his still slightly swollen face. "Bakkoush! You're my coach! Aren't you supposed to be happy for me?". Elias played along, keeping a serious expression, "Oh I am. Just....ya know, I'd be happier if you didn't have seven stitches in the side of your nose right now." The boys chuckled amicably at one another just as the aforementioned muay thai and kickboxing instructor strolled into the kitchen. "Aha! The mighty victor has awoken from his slumber!". Christoffer briefly glanced down to look at the mottled, lumpy mess that were currently Isak's calves. "Hmm, I see the mighty victor seems to have ignored Dr. Schistad's handy-dandy post fisticuffs protocol."

Isak lifted his head up to stare at the playful smile of the older man. "Oh you mean the one you screenshoted from Emil Meek's Instagram?" Elias jumped in before Chris could respond. "Not even man, he dead ass took a picture of his own laptop!" "I have a new phone I haven't figured it out yet! Besides I'm too busy training future world champs." Chris' eyes traveled fondly over Isak's face as the golden haired boy lightly chuckled and suddenly became very interested in the egg and avocado breakfast he was having. "Well shitty calves or not, you need to be ready to go to gym by noon Isak." The fighter groaned with displeasure, but schlepped himself out of his seat and went to go get ready.

As Isak was pulling on one of his favorite Roots of Fight shirts he heard the flat sound of knuckles on the wood in his doorway. Once Bas Rutten was proudly stretched across his chest the young man gave Chris a raise of his eyebrows to indicate he was listening. "So, I know apart from training we haven't really hung out much lately. Me, William and some friends were gonna get some drinks later on if you're interested." The easy banter the boys had in the kitchen had transformed into a tentative yet friendly tone. Isak smiled gently at his coach while nodded his head slowly. "Sounds good to me." Looking pleased Chris told him the address and said he looked forward to it.

18:06

The familiar sounds of Bred Akse gym settled into Isak's ears. The oddly calming sound of skin smashing into leather and the echoes of powerful kicks and punches being landed on the line of heavy bags. The loud exhalations of breath as two fighters sparred in the ring. The effort soaked grunts as a few pairs of grapplers fought to improve their position. And then...... The bubbly laughter of children having a ball watching an olive skinned girl of no more than seven demonstrate an armbar on the long, lithe limb of a dirty-blonde haired man in his early thirties. His gi had small tournament patches adorning it as well as a few logos of other gyms.

"So, as Rjuka has just showed us, mount isn't the only way to secure a juji-gatame, but it is the safest and most effective." Isak let out a long frustrated sigh and turned to stare judgmentally at his coach. "Seriously? Kid-jitsu hour couldn't wait until like eight o'clock? Oh, actually you know what they'd probably all be in bed by then anyway." Elias chuckled, but stared somewhat ruefully at Isak. "Remind me again why you hate children learning a martial art in a safe structured environment?". "Because Elias, it's the same space where adults are training to beat the fuck out of each other for money in a cage." The statement must have been louder than expected as Isak met the unimpressed and disapproving glare of a pair of clear azure eyes. Isak nervously cleared his throat and said, "I guess really it's my own bullshit. Maybe just something about the incongruity of it."

 Elias clapped him on the shoulder, "I can't remember far back enough into school to recall what that even means or if you're using it correctly, but I need you to focus on helping Olmeive get this combination down right, k bro?" Isak gave the older man a stalwart nod and strode over to where a boy not much younger than himself was dressed in a short sleeve compression rash guard and tight, thigh high athletic shorts. He merely observed him at first, watched how the young man pivoted perfectly on his lead leg, turned his hip over and smashed his shin into the bottom middle of the bag. Isak studied the repetition, momentarily mesmerized as the powerful calves and thighs of Olmeive's legs tightened and relaxed almost rhythmically. Suddenly Isak had flashes in his brain of the other things those legs could do. How securely they could cling around his waist, how they could shift and roll on top of him, how they could press flush to his ass and the backs of his own thighs and- "Isak!" Isak jerked out of his unwanted fantasy and stared at the younger martial artist with the look of a red handed thief.

"Um, yes. Sorry mate, I was fucking miles away." "Hmm, you did take some hard shots on Saturday." "Oh fuck off." Isak said a small smile on his face. "You wanna learn the Valtersen Vortex Combo of Death or what Olm?" Olmeive let out a near failed attempt at stifling his laughter as breath exited his nose and he responded. "Teach me, oh wise and mighty Valtersen." Isak went about getting the younger fighter in position and breaking down the combination for him. It was a classic kickboxing combo. One that allowed a fighter to switch from an orthodox stance to southpaw without giving up much defense and still pressuring their opponent. As Isak was strapping on the body protector and mitts his eyes once again unwittingly traveled to Olmeive. This time he was entranced by the bobbing movements of the young man's adams apple as he guzzled a bottle of water. Isak watched with shallow breath as the rust colored stubble on the fighter's throat stretched. "Damn old man, we haven't even started and you're already breathing heavy!" Isak let out a shallow scoff and began calling out the commands of the combination.

Orthodox. Right hook. Left jab. Right front kick. Southpaw. Repeat. Orthodox. Right hook. Left jab. Right front kick. Southpaw. Repeat. The boys moved around the space beside one of the heavy bags hanging all the way to the right side. Although Isak knew Olmeive could throw a deceiving amount of power into his strikes, the kid also knew the equation: Technique + Speed = Power. The young men worked on a few other combinations for the remaining hour and fifteen minutes of Olmeive's allotted session with Isak. When they were done Isak caught the younger fighter slowly stripping off his compression top, drying his sweaty torso. Not trusting himself to have the willpower to look away, the fighter turned to the wall as he undid the velcro on the body protector and focus mitts.

That's pathetic Isak. You really can't control yourself can you? Imagine if poor Olmeive knew what you've been thinking about him. He'd probably open those stitches right back up. Even if he was like you, you think he'd wanna be with you? A closeted mma fighter who can't face his own problems? Get real. As soon as an uncomfortable humidity started to effect Isak's eyes he heard Olmeive's low pitched, gently rolling voice. "That's was some great work today man. I know it was short notice, but thanks for filling in. I gotta tell Magnus to start celebrating my victories as hard as he celebrates yours." Isak let out a genuine, full laugh at that, giving an open mouthed smile to his training partner. "If he does that we'll have to start rescheduling our fights just to save Mags' liver."

  Olmeive returned Isak's laugh as he opened the door of the gym for the other fighter. Having scrounged  up the courage through making him laugh , Isak turned to the other man and blurted out, "Hey, I'm going out with Chris later tonight since I was in no condition to properly celebrate saturday. Think you'd be up for it?" Isak knew he hadn't just asked the boy on a date. Knew Olmeive would never have perceived it that way. Knew there was absolutely nothing but warm, platonic vibes between them. But fuck if it  didn't feel like he was asking the guy out. The russet headed lad popped his head up from where he was texting and gave Isak his full attention. "Absolutely dude," he said with a kind smile adorning his face, "I'd love to do some belated celebrating with you." Isak smiled back and responded. "Awesome, I'll text you the address." The fighters went their separate ways and try as he might, Isak couldn't keep the small, wishful smile off his face.

Chapter Text

21:36

A low background hum of international 70's funk provided the undercurrent for the primary layer of conversation. The establishment felt old, despite only being opened a few years prior. There was a rustic energy soaked into the hardwood floors and reclaimed cedar bar. The clinking of glasses and rumble of conversations interspersed with occasional laughter drew Isak's attention away from his thoughts. Chris glanced at him with a question in his eyes.

"Were you going to say something or....?" Isak turned to look at his coach, saying, "Oh uh, yeah just kind of not the place I would've expected you to want to go." The older man gave an affirming grunt and gestured to a table a few feet from their spot at the bar. "You can blame Wlliam for the lack of nudity. I actually thought we were gonna be celebrating your victory, but I guess one should always be prepared for ulterior motives when dealing with a Magnusson." Isak gave his friend a wistful smile and patted him on his shoulder. He knew that Christoffer Schistad and William Magnusson went way back. He also knew that even though if you asked either they'd say they were still best friends, they'd grown apart in the last few years. Chris' dream of making world champion mixed martial artists, Muay Thai fighters and kickboxers ran parallel yet often times opposed to William's dream of making money off them.

Which isn't to say Magnusson had no regard for the fighters his promotion represented, but he was certainly after a particular goal. And was at times flippant about people who may be in the way of that goal. Isak took another sip of the double of Notorious whiskey Chris had bought him and responded, "You know, I always thought you and William would've made great business partners. I mean it sounds like the dream right? You train the fighters he promotes them." Chris turned to look at Isak while nodding slowly. "You'd be right to think that Isak, hell, it's what we thought initially. But things aren't that simple and we eventually realized if we wanted to remain friends, we couldn't remain partners." Isak's mind flashed an image of kind eyes, bushy eyebrows and chocolate curls before him.

"Yeah, I've sort of been in the same situation." As the tone of their conversation started to darken, the brass bell on the bar door clanged and was silent for a significant period of time before smashing closed again. The men looked over to the their left to see a number of their friends and teammates. Chris' demeanor switched as the coach's friends surrounded him. "You guys made it!" Olmeive smiled brightly at the pair. "Of course man. We've got to celebrate Isak's win right?" A slight girl around Isak's age bellied up to the bar and turned to face him. "You looked great saturday Isak. I knew you were gonna win. Actually that's why I can splurge a bit tonight." The girl accompanied her statement with a set of keen eyes and a squeeze to Isak's left arm. "Oh, Um, well thanks Emma. People don't usually tell me that they bet on me." Seemingly disregarding his statement Emma moved on, asking Isak what he was drinking. "It's actually Connor McGregor's whiskey.", Isak replied stiffly.

He secretly hoped the short haired girl would deem it out of her price range, but instead she ordered a double and settled herself on the stool beside Isak. Chris turned to his fighter giving him a shit eating grin and telling him he'd be going over with Olmeive and some others to the table where William, his girlfriend Noora, her friend Sana and their marketing director Eskild sat discussing an upcoming event. "You know I just think it's so hot what you guys do. Just so primal and raw." Isak was jolted out of launching eye knives at Chris by Emma's blatant and frankly desperate attempt at flirtation. "Yeah I mean it's a pretty crazy way to make a living I suppose." "Definitely. I get the draw though. It's so instinctual right? Like....sex." The girl let out a flirtatious giggle before continuing. "It's like fighting and fucking are two sides of the same coin."

As she said this she started trailing her fingers along Isak's left arm, moving them back up to squeeze at his bicep. Isak hid his wince behind a large, finishing gulp of his whiskey. Ok, now he knew for sure Emma was full of shit. Had she actually seen his fight she'd have known that his opponent delivered several powerful kicks to that arm as Isak reacted and blocked them. Once he had drained his glass Isak abruptly stood up and nearly ran to the restroom. As he was finishing up and flushing the urinal a noticeably more intoxicated Chris waltzed through the door. "Soooooo, how's Emma?" Isak glanced with open hostility at his coach. "Can't believe you left me alone with her." Chris made an obnoxious sound of relief once in front of his own urinal and looked over to where his student was washing his hands. "Aww, c'mon bro. She's not that bad.", the older man slightly slurred to Isak. "She bet on my fight without even watching it. Who does that?"

His coach let out a scoff that then turned into a laugh. "Somebody who's trying to get that Little Viking deeeee!" Isak groaned and looked back at Chris as the man sloppily washed his hands. "I should've cut you off after your third gin and ginger. Everybody knows you're a lightweight." While clumsily drying his hands Chris made a scandalized face and gasped.

"I'll have you know, Valtersen, that I competed across three different weight classes in my time." Isak acquiesced, saying he knew and was sorry he'd insulted Christoffer 'The Penetrator' Schistad. "Oh shit, I forgot we got that announcer to actually say it!" His student broke into a smile at the memory. "Yeah and I was the one who had to convince him to not make the promotion suspend you." "Pfttt, they weren't gonna suspend me. If anything I'd have to pay a fine." As the boys approached the table that Emma, William, Noora, Olmeive, Sana and Eskild were occupying he caught a few snippets of the conversation.

"And I feel it's a whole untapped market. Or actually....no, not untapped; underutilized. Imagine if we had a place where queer fighters could go. I'm not talking about an exclusively lgbt promotion or anything, but letting people in those communities know they're welcome? I think there's a lot of benefit in it." Noora nodded in agreement and responded to redhead. "Absolutely, I mean look at what Amanda Nunes is doing with her gym. Obviously it's the skill of the fighter that matters, but imagine being the gym that has the first openly gay, male UFC champion. That would be pretty awesome." The girl swiveled her head to her boyfriend as he sat his drink down. "Totally. And to be the regional promotion he was champ of before? That'd be huge. I mean like Noora said, the focus should be on the fact that the fighter was that skilled to achieve a UFC title in the first place. Having said that, it would still be an incredible landmark to be a part of."

As William finished his statement, Sana caught Isak's eyes and appraised the young man, flashing him a polite smile. Eskild nodded enthusiastically before saying, "Now we just have to find an incredibly skilled, openly gay MMA fighter." A round of laughs bounced across the table as the occupants turned their attention to the drunk coach and his slightly buzzed fighter. Chris picked his head up from where he'd laid it against Isak's shoulder and uttered a joking question, "Does drunkenly making out with some Russ boys in high school count?" The friends chuckled at the man's drunken charm before Olmeive, playing along, answering him. " Ooh, I don't think it does. But hey, I'm sure there's plenty of other firsts that a coach could have." Isak jumped into the banter saying, "You mean like not puking for the first time on your way back to your apartment from the bar?"

Another round of easy laughter bubbled around the table. Seeing the opportunity to not only remove Chris from the bar before anymore alcohol entered his bloodstream , but to also avoid anymore bizarre and uncomfortable interactions with Emma, Isak informed the table he'd be going home now to put his coach to bed. After a round of good night's and an undeniable avoidance of Emma's lustful gaze, Isak and his friend braved the biting winter air of Oslo and began to make their way back to the fighter's apartment.

22:06

Upon entering the door the stiff hinges whined as Chris tossed his keys on the small, end table to the left. The slowly sobering man walked with a labored gait until he was in front of the couch and promptly fell back on it, letting out a satisfied grunt and turning it into a yawn. Isak walked into the kitchen and retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge before striding back into the living room and toeing off his shoes.

"Yo coach!", Isak gave Chris a heads up before lightly tossing him the other bottle of water. The blonde boy watched with a fond smile stretched across his face as the instructor drank over half the bottle in one go. "Whoa, don't go too fast; Elias got super pissed when Eva puked on the couch." Chris snorted a laugh and then repositioned himself so his feet were resting in his students lap. "Shit man, I forgot about that night. Didn't she hook up with her ex or something?" Isak took a small sip of his water while nodding his head, keeping his eyes on his lap, away from his coach's gaze. The older man let out an affirming hum before speaking again. "I remember being kind of disappointed they'd hooked up actually", the brunette let his eyes slowly travel up the expanse of Isak's body. "Although, she certainly wasn't the only one I had my eye on that night."

Isak tried to cover the hitch in his breath by clearing his throat. He peered over momentarily to find Chris' low lidded eyes locked onto his own, his lips parted a half inch or so . Isak spoke again, trying to relieve the tension and slowly rising panic he felt creeping through his being. "Oh, cool......so um, who else was there?". As Isak looked to the opposite end of the couch, Chris had pulled out a weed vape and started taking small pulls on it. "Someone who's so oblivious they should receive an award of some sort." Chris' fighter let out a slightly relieved laugh at that. "Sounds like me with Emma honestly. I mean, she can't possibly think I'm actually that oblivious right?" Chris shrugged, "Probably not, but honestly I think you should cut Emma some slack." Isak grabbed the vape as his friend offered it to him, giving him a look of puzzled amusement. Chris let a smooth smirk form on his lips before sitting up, moving closer to the younger man.

"You see, the thing is Isak, Emma gets so overly excited with you that it kind of ruins any tact she might have. She doesn't know quite how to charm people just yet." He subtly moved closer to Isak before continuing. "It's certainly a refined skill. Observing someone at a party or a concert, wherever, having fun. Realizing the parts of yourself you need to fortify to get them to notice you.", as Isak slowly lifted his eyes up he felt a rush of simultaneous arousal and nervousness when he realized how close his and Chris' faces were. "But sometimes, that's not what they care about. Sometimes they don't want to see how grand you can make the walls of your own castle." Isak felt his breathing quicken as his eyes reflexively darted between his coach's own eyes and lips. The blonde could feel the warm, now slightly sweet and earthen breath brush over his lips as Chris continued to lean into him as he spoke. "Sometimes, Isak, they want you to give them the permission to take the walls of that castle apart. But I know that can be terrifying, especially if you have no clue how you'd build them back up again." Isak swallowed thickly, letting out his response in a breath of rasped air, "I think....I might be willing to give someone that permission. The right person, that is."

Noticing Chris had started to let his eyes close and lean closer, Isak did the same. Holy shit, I'm about to kiss a guy! I'm about to kiss fucking Chris for Christ sake! He's my coach! Does Chris even like guys? He said he made out with some back in high school. Shit, Isak, he was probably just joking, stop being so desp- before Isak's racing thoughts could finish speeding through his synapses he heard an all too familiar wet heave that indicated someone vomiting was inevitable. Snapping open his eyes just in time to aim his coach's bowed head away from the couch, Isak grimaced as Chris deposited the remnants of what he'd drank at the bar and Elias's mother's curry and black bean casserole onto their wood and apoxy resin coffee table. The young martial artist covered up an annoyed yet also relieved sigh as his now sweaty friend cleaned his face with a box of tissues on the edge of the table that'd been sparred. Immediately after this, Isak heard a burst of laughter.

" Holy shit," Chris croaked out, "It looks like the Mjolnir Gym logo." Briefly glancing at the piled bile and food, Isak couldn't hold back a head shaking chuckle because it really did look like the Icelandic gyms logo. "Ok buddy, let's get you to bed before you start seeing the SBG logo in the recyclables or something." Chris sauntered into the bathroom at the end of the hall to relieve himself as Isak cleaned up the mess and then waited while his coach slowly brushed his teeth. He then helped ease him down onto his bed before saying, "Hey, I'm gonna leave another water bottle and trash can beside you, OK man?" Christoffer nodded lazily and quietly cleared his throat.

"Hey...Isak," Isak turned his head as he reached Chris' bedroom door, making a small noise to indicate he should continue, "I'm really glad that you're my friend." The sleepy man's eyes opened slowly, but quickly settled on Isak's, "And I'm really proud that you're one of my fighters." Isak felt his throat tighten slightly and his jaw clench before he replied, "Thanks Chris, I'm proud that you're one of my coaches." With that, Isak softly closed his door and walked to the end of the hall where he entered his own bedroom. A few minutes later, Isak found himself replaying his and Chris' conversation on the couch. He'd said he'd be willing to be vulnerable with the right person, but would he really? You were saying whatever you thought would make him kiss you. Fuck. It was an uncomfortable thought, but one not even Isak would say there wasn't truth to. But none of it mattered right now anyway. You might want to stop going through scenarios in your head before you're even out of the closet. He let out a sigh and decided to kowtow to the tired sassyness of his now nearly sober brain. These things were better thought about when he was at one hundred percent anyway. The last thing he heard before falling asleep were Chris' words echoing in his head: 'I'm really proud that you're one of my fighters.'

Chapter Text

Torsdag

September 27th, 2018

8:33

The chilling tingle of Oslo's early morning air made the exposed, blonde hairs on the man's legs straighten like soldiers at attention. The slow burn of lactic acid filled his calves and upper thighs, his breathing steadily getting more and more labored. He stopped at a crosswalk, smiling at an old woman walking her dog. The sounds of a city waking up and preparing for another day rang through his ears. The rolling whoosh of wind as it was broken apart over vehicles transporting adults to work and children to school. The hum of conversation synchronizing with the lazy clip-cloping of dress shoes and office casual footwear. Coffee shops opening and welcoming the still sleepy populus to invigorate themselves with a dose of caffeine. The sun cutting through the shadow of lingering night and warming all it touched.

To say Even Bech Naesheim was a morning person would be an understatement. For Even, in his blue knee high shorts and vintage Adidas sweatband, morning wasn't just a time of day, it was a triumph of light over dark, literally. A representation that you get to try again, that yesterday doesn't define you. As someone who at times lived in yesterday the importance of a new morning was not lost on Even. He slowed to a gentle walk as he caught his breath and looked down to his shorts as he fished out his phone to confirm the time. Deciding he had time before he had to head home and prepare for work, the tall blonde entered a coffee shop he spotted a few feet in front of him and let his eyes trail over the menu to the side of the counter. After settling on and ordering an iced chai latte, Even leaned back against the small booth behind him and opened up the home screen on his phone.

He saw he had a few messages from his assistant as well as a few missed calls. As he started responding to one of the texts his assistant had sent, a cheery, feminine voice informed him his drink was ready. Thanking the barista and paying for the latte, Even walked out of the shop and continued answering his texts before he switched to his missed calls and felt his mood drop slightly. What now Sonja?. Choosing not to return the call, Even enjoyed the rest of his walk home, taking his time and stopping for aimless small talk as he greeted a few neighbors. When the instructor returned home, he walked up the stairs to his apartment at a slightly slower than necessary pace. Letting out a preparatory sigh as he reached the door and unlocked it, Even walked into the small foyer to find his roommate Mikael making breakfast. His eyes searched thoroughly, but found no site of his other roommate.

 "Hey Mikki, have you seen Sonja this morning?" Even's raven haired friend shrugged while dashing in a pinch of paprika to his omelet. "She said hey before she went to work, but she left a few minutes before you got back." The taller man felt a short lived wave of relief wash over him as he realized this just meant he'd have longer to anticipate what Sonja was going to say to him. Exhaling an abrupt sigh, Even informed his roommate he had to go get ready for work.

After he'd washed himself clean from the early morning of downtown Oslo, Even selected what he was going to wear that day. He settled on a pair of charcoal skinny jeans, a muted lime, baseball v-neck that brushed his thighs and a matte black wool vest. Giving himself a once-over is his full length mirror, the thirty something deemed himself ready to face the cutthroat world of health food marketing and advertising. The man shouted a quick goodbye to Mikael as he left the apartment and made his was to work, noticing the distinct lack of people on the street as compared to earlier that morning. When Even arrived at work he noticed his coworkers were gathered near the center left of the room, listening to their supervisor discuss breaking into a new market.

"We've always had a solid clientele in the sports world. Expanding that will be a massive benefit as we attempt to secure higher level contracts with different organizations and athletes." The supervisor stopped her speech to watch Even, prompting everyone to shift their focus onto the tardy individual. He cleared his throat before apologizing. "Um, sorry Mrs. Olufsen,  sorry everybody, lost track of time I guess." A satisfied yet somehow unamused look contorted his boss's face. "Oh no, it's actually convenient that you showed up when you did. You see Even, we're starting a new marketing campaign directed at athletes in combat sports. Actually, you uh, trained a few fighters didn't you Mr. Naesheim?"  Even felt a flood of anxiety and resentful memories crash into him, staining his cheeks a fleshy pink. " Yes, Mrs. Olufsen, I did work with a few fighters back in the day. But to be honest I was an entirely different person then, so to gleen anything from that time in my life...... well, I don't know if that would be an intelligent decision."

He could see the surprise on his boss's face, reflecting in raised eyebrows and a lightly pursed mouth. "Well, we'll certainly keep that in mind when asking for your input." Even gave a stiff nod, his eyes shifting off the supervisor to meet those of his friend Adam. He gave Even a quizzical look, one that said 'we're going to talk about this later, no matter how awkward and uncomfortable it is'. A quiet sigh left Even's nostrils as he added Adam to his list of anticipatory discussions. After the meeting was over Adam made a bee line for his friend, stopping him before he could unsuccessfully try to blend in with the other employees heading back to their desks and workspaces.

"What's up dude?" To anyone else it sounded like a normal greeting, but almost two decades of friendship supplied Even with the information Adam wasn't saying. Are you okay? You were late to work, you're hardly ever late. Have you been eating? How's your sleep? He flashed what he hoped was an easy and comfortable smile at his friend. "Apart from Olufsen's attempt to take me down a peg not much. Can't say I'm not excited for this new campaign though."  Adam decided to indulge his friend, seeing his eyes say more than his mouth would allow. Yes, I'm okay. I let my run go a bit longer than usual. Definitely been eating, sleeping is good, could be better. The friends turned co-workers chatted animatedly while they worked through the day, talking about what sort of approaches and techniques they thought would be best to endear themselves to their new clientele.

The workday was drawing to a close as Even's shoulders reflexively jumped after hearing Adam exclaim a loud "Ooh!" Seeming to not notice or simply not care about startling the taller man Adam continued talking. "Elias' gym? Bred Akse? They're an mma gym right? I bet we could get some great insights from the people there." Even rolled his eyes, but his mouth twitched upward. "Yeah, I can see if they might give us some input. But Adam, I haven't been in that world for a long time. I mean, I teach seven to twelve years olds jiu-jitsu for Christ's sake." His colleague rose his hands in mock defense. "Relax man, I didn't ask you to try and get a job as a coach or something."

 The pale man's shoulders raised and dropped. "I know, I just don't know how much different their input could be than whoever our people decide to work with. I mean honestly, if I wanted to make friends with a bunch of sweaty alpha dudes, I have much more fun ways of going about it." This time Even's smirk was in full effect, causing his friend to expel a loud burst of laughter followed by a short shake of his head. Although, the more Even thought about it, the more he wondered if maybe there was a nuanced voice at the gym.

18:56

The early autumn sun of Oslo punched through the long, columnar windows of Bred Akse. Golden light piercing through sweat and making it flash before going back to being simple droplets of pure effort. Isak was on the mats, Mahdi, Isak's favored student to use to demonstrate techniques, was currently held in an achilles lock. His hand was raised above the young fighter's thigh, ready to tap when needed.

"Quick, brutal, crushing compression. That what makes this submission work guys. Ideally you want your opponent stretched out because this makes you far more difficult to punch and gives you better control over their foot, but even if they're closer", at Isak's motioning Mahdi scooted just into striking range of Isak, "You can still secure the submission. And obviously if he starts dropping bombs," Isak's partner mimed throwing heavy shots at his head, "You can reposition," He moved his hips off to the left, furthering the distance between himself and Mahdi, "Or, get them thinking about something else." With that Isak modified the grip he had on his friends foot, setting up the beginnings of a heel hook. As he did Mahdi tried to defend by pulling his leg to him, but as he did Isak hooked his leg with his arm, swiftly tossing the sparred limb across Mahdi's body before transitioning into a cradle position. Giving his partner an appreciative shoulder pat, Isak heaved his well worked body off the mat and over to his bag, scooping up his water bottle and taking a few deep swigs.

As he lowered his bottle his eyes were met with the kind yet slightly secretive smile of his ebony skinned friend. "Good roll today bro. I've loved that cradle transition ever since Magnus showed it to us." Isak smiled and nodded, "Mags is a lot of things, but a shit teacher isn't one of them." As the young men walked over to the hexagonal cage to the right back center of the gym, Mahdi dropped his voice to a low pitch. Not a 'you wanna hear a secret' level, but certainly a 'so I heard that' level. "So, you know how we've had that kid-jitsu teacher in here for the last few months?" Isak gave Mahdi a curious nod. "Me an Olm have dubbed him the James Dean of Jiu-jitsu." His friend gave a humorous snort at Isak's surprisingly accurate moniker of their newest member. "Apparently he's not just Elias' childhood friend or whatever. A few years ago he was training guys like Pimblett and Gokhan Saki. Eventually he ended up at Stavanger, but there was some drama and he turned his back on mma entirely."

The blonde youth's eyes flicked from where they were watching Magnus and Olmeive drill takedowns over to Even's designated area of the gym, a group of eight year olds practicing guard passes. A wide smile graced the instructor's face as he watched a young student finally pass her partners guard. Maybe kid-jitsu guy is more interesting than I thought. When Isak glanced back to Mahdi the grappler seemed to be finishing up the new guys story. "After that, nobody really wanted him. He did some privates or got paid to guest at a seminar, but he never trained another mma fighter again. Rumor is that after he moved back to Oslo, he got a marketing job or something and then Elias sublet the gym for him so he could keep teaching. Shit man, I swear sometimes I feel like this whole industry is a well organized, badly written soap opera with a lot more violence."

It was Isak's time to snort a laugh at his friend's assessment of their chosen profession. As the fighter's pine green globes moved back to the wrestling and takedown attempts of Magnus and Olmeive, a familiar melody entered his ears.

Aw, I don't want to fuck you. You can't even sing! You had to sing, or something, to get some pussy
Ooh, baby, I like it raw
Yeah, baby, I like it raw
Ooh, baby, I like it raw
Yeah, baby, I like it raw
Shimmy, shimmy, ya, shimmy, yam, shimmy, yay
Gimme the mic so I can take it away
Off on a natural charge,  Bon Voyage
Yeah, from the home of the dodgers, Brooklyn squad

Wu-Tang killer bees on a swarm
Rain on ya dollar's ass, disco dorm
For you to even touch my skill
You gotta have the one killer bee and-   

The young man grumbled out a frustrated sigh; muttering to himself, Isak walked briskly to where Elias was currently doing a light round on a heavy bag, having foregone gloves and letting his hand wraps get some air. Isak crossed his arms and waited on his coach to notice him, looking every bit like a disappointed parent. The older man's brows sprung up as strode up to his fighter. "Hey bro. Good roll today?" The coach was trying to come off as oblivious, but the perfectly mixed hedonism of Ol' Dirty Bastard flowing through the gyms p.a. system was enough to give Isak pause. "Look, Elias, I like ODB as much as the next guy, but are you sure that you should playing that with fucking kids here!?", Isak finished his statement in a near whispered hiss.

A set of melted umber eyes caught a pair of translucent baby-blues as Isak observed, bewildered yet intrigued, as his boxing coach and kid-jitsu man both started guffawing. Ok. Obviously there was a joke Isak wasn't  in on. As he turned t o Elias for an answer the gym owner had already begun speaking, " Relax little viking, those kids don't speak a word of English. And certainly not street slang from mid nineties New York." As soon as Elias had finished up his actually pretty solid defense of his musical choice, Mahdi chimed in with a timely setup. "Yeah Isak, you really didn't know?" A genuine expression of confusion contorted Isak's face. At that moment, he looked back to the cage just in time to see Olmeive finally take down Magnus, but not before the wrestling coach bellowed triumphantly, " Wu-Tang is for the children!"

Chapter Text

Onsdag

Oktober 3rd, 2018

10:48

Even knew that his boss had spoken. Saw her lips move, heard the flowing pauses and explanations. However, when the words tried to enter his brain, they dissolved into a muffled, vague semblance of their original form. "Um.....", was his only response to the information he'd just been given. His eyes had compressed into half moons, holding a pair of questioning blue orbs. His brows were drawn in as if being pulled towards one another by an invisible string and his slightly chapped lips were stretched into a flat line of suspicion.

"Can you repeat that?" Mrs. Olufsen released an irritated sigh through her long, aquiline nose, but nontheless repeated herself. "After looking over the profiles of ten selected employees across our offices countrywide, our corporate HQ has decided they would like to offer you a position as creative director for our new marketing campaign."

Even's immediate reaction of uncontrolled laughter was as inappropriate as it was unintentional. "Shit! I mean....crap, sorry. Um, wow this is pretty serious then huh?" His supervisor nodded with a condescending raise of her eyebrows. "You'd be part of a team of three other people, all communicating together to work on the campaign and, if need be, traveling to meet with each other. I'm also obligated to inform you that if you choose to sign onto the team, your salary will be increased by fifteen percent and you as well as the other members of the team will receive twelve percent of the over all gross earnings after the first quarter. This percentage would of course be split among the four of you."

The tall man's brain broke the numbers down in his head. The company wasn't a giant like Onnit or MusclePharm, but they'd carved out a nice chunk of the market, particularly in Scandinavia. The three percent may not have sounded like much, but Even knew it would be a substantial amount of money. The fact that the more successful the campaign was the sweeter that three percent would be was not lost on him either. It was a good motivating tactic. Absorbing all this, there was still a question simmering away in Even's brain. "Why'd they pick me?"

Olufsen raised her gently sloping shoulders in a shrug. "I can't be sure, but I imagine they looked at people with a background in combat sports, probably asked some local athletes and fighters about their opinions on the individual." The muscles in Even's jaw tightened and he felt the previously steady beat of his heart begin to increase. Relax Even, she said local. Finding himself slowly nodding, the jiu-jitsu instructor shifted his gaze from his employer's desk to her face, allowing himself the smallest hint of smug triumph when he saw the subtle, disappointed frown on her face. "You know what? I think being creative director of this project could be a great opportunity for me to ease myself back into the community of mixed martial arts." Even had no intentions of doing this, but he was a master at making bullshit smell like fresh baked cinnamon buns and his supervisor didn't need to know that.

Mrs. Olufsen gave her younger employee a tight smile and stood up to shake his hand. "I'll let corporate know by this afternoon. Also you'll receive a projection of sales by Monday, so be expecting that. Then on Friday you'll be having a video conference with the other three members of the team." Her expression shifted into something more genuine; not happy, certainly not proud, but definitely with a sense of approval. "Even Bech Naesheim, welcome aboard PurKonchus Nutritionals first campaign for combat athletes." The sense of approval dissipated rapidly as her face set into a serious expression, "Don't fuck this up Naesheim. It might be the only chance at upward mobility you get in this company."

11:04 

A sigh escaped from his mouth at the same time the vinyl upholstered chair gave a series of sharp squeaks. Languidly turning his chair to face his coworker, Even leveled Adam with a look of feigned apprehension. “Bro…”. Adam quirked his head to the left to address the other man. “What’s up buddy?”

“Apparently, corporate HQ decided that they want me to be the creative director for our new campaign. Along with three other people.” “Dude! That awesome!”, his friend exclaimed with a congratulatory pat and rub of his shoulder. “Yeah, maybe. I mean, I went to school for this, but I never thought I’d be in a position where it’d actually be relevant.” Adam hitched up his eyebrows at Even’s statement. “So what, your degree is just a wall hanger?” His tall friend’s eyes rolled to the side, shaking off Adam’s question.

“And who our age do you know who actually has a job directly related to what they went to school for? Hell, Elias went to UiO for social media advertising and market trend analysis, now he runs an mma gym. Yousef has a PhD in comparative anthropology and he owns a dance studio. Mikael has a teaching degree in classical Moroccan literature and works-“ “ Dude! I get it, jeez you try to congratulate a guy.”

Even apologized to his friend, stating it was just a lot of pressure all at once. “It’s weird. Like the universe decided to remind me I’m useful or something.” His friend gave him a speculative look of worry. “Of course you’re useful Ev. You’re going to fucking kill this campaign man!” Even gave Adam a smile of acquiescence, saying he hoped Adam was right.
“Plus, you have Elias’ whole gym as a resource! You don’t even have to deal with whoever they get. And they said they want local input anyway right?” Even gave a nod and silently thanked Elias. He knew the chances of PurKonchus’s combat athlete consultants being members of his old Stavanger team were slim, but even that didn’t settle his worries. He thought back to what he’d said to Mrs. Olufsen about getting back into mma. Maybe it wasn’t as disastrous an idea as he’d originally thought.

16:33

“Mags, c’mon that’s total bullshit!” “I’m not lying! She made a meow, like a cat!” Mahdi and Isak’s snorts and eye rolls were simultaneous, making all three of the friends laugh amicably. “What did you say the start time was Isak?”, Mahdi asked his friend. Isak replied that their movie would be starting at 16:45, which gave them ample time to chat while they walked to the theater. “I heard our boy Isak here had a run in with Emma at Bjorn’s a few days ago.”, Magnus informed Mahdi as he playfully knocked his shoulder into the blonde boys.

“Ugh, more like a run away. I swear, that girl couldn’t take a hint if you paid her to.” Magnus scoffed at this, chastising Isak, saying that he had to hookup with girls so Mahdi could live vicariously through Isak’s sexcapades. Putting a theatrical hand to his chest, Mahdi pinned Magnus with his chocolate, charcoal eyes. “I do just fine for myself thank you very much. Also I’m not as snobby when it comes to girls as Isak.” The fighter shot his friend a puzzled look. “Just cause I score out of my league doesn’t mean I’m snobby.” Doesn’t really mean anything though does it Isak? Like you’d score out of your league even if you weren’t a closeted pussy. Isak titled his head to the left and right, appearing to stretch his neck, but really imagining those painful thoughts emptying out of his head. It was among his favorite visualization techniques he’d learned from his sports-psych coach.

Magnus let out a loud, “Oohhh!”. “He got you Mahd Man.” Mahdi shook his head at the nickname while a wide smile broke over his face. Making a decision to further distance himself from his intrusive, cruel thoughts, Isak brought up another topic. “So Mags, I hear Olmeive’s a couple fights away from a title shot?” The young man’s silk straw hair vibrated and bounced as he nodded enthusiastically. “Hell yeah man! William and Eskild told me they’re actually keeping him as a back up if the Geiranger vs Kolumalu fight has any dropouts, so he’s definitely been training hard.”

The boys dark skinned friend nodded in approval. “He definitely deserves it; guy’s been climbing that division like a mountain goat.” “He has, and if he wins the belt he’ll be the youngest lightweight champion in the promotions history.” The three men continued to talk about their friend and the opportunities that might be presented to him should he win the belt.

As they approached the theater and walked inside, Isak’s phone vibrated in his pocket, indicating he’d received a text. After paying for his ticket, he retrieved his phone, scrolling to his messages to see a text from Elias.

Eli-B da Box Man: Yo lil’ viking, I have cool and potentially money making news for you! Have fun with Mags and Mahdi and don’t tell me anything about the movie!

Isak cracked a small smile as he wrote his reply.

Isak: Sounds intriguing! Let’s go over the details when I get home.

After entering the theater their movie was being played in, Isak silenced his phone and settled in.

17:46 

The film was OK, certainly not spoiler worthy so Elias could rest easy. Isak wished he’d been more interested in the movie, then he wouldn’t be left alone with his thoughts set to a soundtrack of popcorn grazing audience members and quiet, interspersed conversations. You need to clear the air with Chris. Just because he didn’t say anything doesn’t mean he doesn’t remember it. Isak shifted his hips, bringing his knees together and compressing himself into his seat. Maybe if he folded in on himself enough, he could choke the life from his unwanted thoughts.

No such luck.

How do you know he even wanted to kiss you? He was probably just drunk and horny. You think he’d actually want you? C’mon Isak. You were pretty much on the path to taking advantage of him. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t gotten sick? You would’ve kept going wouldn’t you? A chance for you to finally rid yourself of your disgusting urges. You’re no fucking better than he was Isak. Just going about your predation in a different way.

No. No, that’s not true. Isak knew it wasn’t true. He would never, could never do something like that. Ok, yes he has had some fantasies about a few guys from the gym. But he’d never act on them. He wouldn’t be able to anyway, wouldn’t have the courage. Maybe he was a pervert, but wasn’t a predator.

Of course. If you’re always the victim you can’t be the predator. Keep telling yourself you’re in control. Keep lying to your own face. One day, some new, vibrant boy is going to stride into Bred Akse and you’re not going to be able to control yourself. You’ll slither your way into his life just like he did. Gain his trust, make him feel special. But you’ll be so genuine won’t you? In fact, when you let him know what you really want from him, he’ll feel so indebted to you, he’ll let you do whatever you want. And after that, you’ll never see your own reflection again Isak. It’ll just be those mocking, manipulative, speckled mud eyes staring back at you.

Isak stood up abruptly, informing his friends he needed to use the restroom. When he entered the space he was relieved to see know one was there. Turning two faucets on full blast and smashing the button to start the hand drying machine, the upset youth let out a series of muffled screams into his elbow as his lashes threatened to give way to the weight of the tears held behind them. I’m so fucked up.

18:23

Once the film finished, Isak was at the head of the trio of friends, eager to feel the cool brush of October air against his cheeks. He hoped the tear trails from earlier had dissipated by now. The boys moved into the night air, Mahdi and Magnus chatting animatedly about the movie. While the friends huddled in close proximity to guard against the chilly night air, Isak felt his pocket begin vibrating. Assuming it was Elias again, Isak eagerly removed it from his jeans, happy to have something to distract himself with.

The name appearing on Isak’s lock screen didn’t confirm his hope. Instead the boy saw a name he hadn’t seen in nearly four years. A name that made him think of his childhood. Made him think of sleepovers, sharing toys, and play dates. A name that made him think of first crushes and secrets. Of guilty jealously and smoking weed for the first time. A name that made his stomach drop and his heart clench.

Call Missed: Jonas V.

20:03 

William was currently sitting with Noora and Eskild. The couple had invited their friend and business partner Eskild over to discuss some things about William’s mma promotion. “I hear you guys are keeping Olmeive on tap as an alternate for the main event in a couple weeks?”, Noora questioned the men before she began gathering a bite of salad on her fork. William nodded while Eskild took a sip of his drink, making a noise indicating he just remembered something.

“So, you guys know the sexy jiu-jitsu instructor at Elias’ gym?” William couldn’t help but chuckle at the statement, Noora herself letting out a smiling scoff. “You know he does have a name Eskild.” The ginger in question smiled mischievously replying, “I’ll call him whatever he wants me to. However, that’s not the point. Apparently he’s recently been made head of a marketing campaign that his company is starting focusing on nutrition and training for combat athletes.” Their friend leaned back proudly after divulging his information.

Noora and her husband’s ears and eyes perked up at this. William turned to Eskild, “And what company is it that he works for?”

A playfully smug grin overtook the redhead’s face. “PurKonchus.”

The couple let out dual laughs of surprise, Noora pinning her friend with a wide eyed gaze. “Are you serious!? Eskild, we’ve been courting a sponsorship deal with them for the past year!” The manager closed his eyes, basking in his achievement. William was equally as excited if not more so, which was saying a lot for the normally reserved man. “This is incredible man!,” the promotion owner said while patting and appreciatively shaking his friends shoulder, “How’d you even hear about this?”

“The creative director for the campaign emailed me directly, said he can’t entirely confirm it, but he thinks that Elias would definitely be interested in getting sponsorship for a few Bred Akse fighters.” “Did he have anyone in mind?”, Noora asked Eskild. “He gave me a few names; Olmeive Deichtner, Feliciana Corderon, Oskar Gulinier, Isak Valtersen-“

William’s eyebrows moved up his forehead at the mention of Isak’s name, sharing a look with his wife. “Valtersen, really?” Eskild gave an affirmative hum while sipping his beer. “I think they call him the little viking or something. Which is weird considering the boy’s almost one point eighty two meters. You know, I wonder if he has to….” The friend and business partner ended his stream of consciousness once he realized both Noora and William giving him a vaguely skeptical look.

“What? Is Valtersen like an ex-con or something? I mean he just turned twenty one this year, bit young for that isn’t he?” Noora gave Eskild an appeasing smile while shaking her head. “No, of course not, nothing like that. It’s just, well, Isak’s not quite yet the same level of fighter that Olm or Oskar or Feliciana are.” Eskild gave an understanding nod before turning to William.

“They’re all NFC fighters though correct?” “They are, but, well, I don’t mean to insult Isak or anything but….”, William cut himself off, clearly feeling uncomfortable criticizing one of the youngest fighters of his roster. Noora let out a sigh and finished what William was trying to say. “Eskild, I know you might not be aware of this since you’re the general talent manager, but out of all eighty-three fighters currently signed to Norske Fighting Championships, Isak is the only one who’s never fought for another organization. And he’s still very young in his career, so the push to sponsor him isn’t too great.”

The manager gave the couple a confused look, cocking his head just off center. “So companies don’t want to sponsor Isak because he’s loyal?” The husband and wife both gave a shrug of their shoulders, William offering a further explanation, “Sponsors want deals with multiple organizations. Having fighters who routinely fight for different promotions helps secure that.” Eskild still had a somewhat disappointed scrunch to his face.

“It’s certainly not ideal,” Noora conceded, “But, in lower level, regional mma, that’s how things go.” William nodded his concurrently. “Which isn’t to say we don’t support Isak, but our promotional reach only goes so far. And being one of the few organizations that has a dual competition clause in our contracts, Isak doesn’t have very many other promotions to go to. Still, we’ll absolutely do everything in our power to promote and elevate our fighters to where they want to be.”

The talent manager gave a curling tuck of a smile to that, not having realized that Isak would be unlikely to obtain a sponsorship. Heaving a sigh, Eskild raised his glass. “Well, I can’t say that’s the answer I wanted, but a partial win is better than no win at all. Skol!” The couple repeated the cheer and the three friends clinked their glasses together, moving on to discuss other business.

Chapter Text

Fredag

Oktober 5th, 2018

14:12

The young man’s once shining, messy brunette curls had been traded in for a respectable, matte, medium short length cut. Almost a cast off of his previous naiveties. The core was still the same, but the tectonics and plates had shifted to create an otherwise unrecognizable landscape.

At least, if you knew him before that is.

Jonas looked at the pile of engagement party invitations with a half narrowed eye malice he usually reserved for only the most outward examples of crony capitalism. Having the party here in Stavanger would’ve been the easiest thing to do, but a lopsided number of friends and family residing in Oslo made the decision pretty clear. The man’s eyes focused in on one spot on the ‘personalization’ lines of the invitation. At this point the message to each friend and family member was reading like a work memo.

Hello. Getting married. Probably after university. No, Eva isn’t pregnant. Yes we are currently living together. Love you, Jonas.

The last line was a light, but good natured barb to his aunt’s once overly staunch brand of Catholicism. As he was sealing the invitation, the door of the apartment, which was also an entrance to the kitchen, opened slowly and a flurry of ginger blonde hair preceded the body that was now closing the door.

“Fuck. If it’s gonna feel so nice out, can the wind chill not be like, below freezing!?”, Jonas’ fiancé, Eva, complained. He looked up at her from his seat at the table with a faux smug grin. “Told you to wear a scarf and lined jacke-“, the words stopped as Eva sealed her lips over Jonas’ briefly, gathering a small stack of the invitations that he’d already completed.

Jonas smiled at her as she thumbed through the envelopes, ensuring he didn’t miss anyone. “Your presentation went well, I assume?” The young woman gave a soft noise in her throat for confirmation. “Naturally I’ll be receiving at least half credit I’m sure.”, Jonas joked flirtatiously. Eva appeared ready to strike back with an equally sassy and witty remark before her face drew to a confused point.

Jonas, looking as bewildered as possible, stared at his fiancé. “What’s wrong?” A defeated sigh fell through Eva’s lightly chapped lips as she sat down.“Can’t help noticing that there’s no Isak Valtersen invitation…” Trying to mask a mix of disappointment and embarrassment, Jonas drew his lips into a line and shrugged. “Can’t give him an invitation if he doesn’t pick up his phone to give me an address.” Eva’s face showed a frustration with his words, but her eyes held a look of wistful empathy. It still hurts because you still care.

“Ok.” Jonas now held a look of actual bewilderment. “Ok?” Eva nodded, while giving a small shrug of her own shoulders. “If you want to choose to not inform the most important person in your life who’s not me or your family about your wedding, that’s your choice. But it’s not going to be mine.” The University student stood from the table, walking into the newly engaged couple’s common room.

Jonas let the weight of the churning thoughts in his head make his skull fall backwards, folding over the back of his chair. A long exhalation pushed itself from his lungs.

As he entered the room with appeasing Eva in mind, Jonas mouth seemed to have a different idea. “It was mutual you know. It’s not like I ran off crying or he did. It was the best decision for both of us. He understood that then. He understands it now.”Eva couldn’t help pushing out a warm, sarcastic puff of air from her nose. “Understanding something and being okay with it isn’t the same thing Jonas.”, this time she let out a real sigh. “I probably won’t ever know why you chose to leave Oslo. Or why Isak chose to stay. But what I do know without a doubt is he is still your best friend Jonas. He still deserves to be able to talk to you. I’m not saying to harass the poor boy, but maybe he’s just looking for a little more effort on your part.”

Jonas felt his hackles rise at the statement. “Really, he doesn’t contact me at all for almost four years, but I need to show more effort? You know Eva, if there’s one thing I know about Isak? He hates being seen as a victim. Like I said, it was a mutual decision on both our parts.” The usual lava-lamp softness of Jonas’ eyes had hardened into a steely hazel. The young woman shook her head. “The only mutual thing between you two is how ridiculously fucking stubborn and scared of your own emotions you both are.”

Having stuck a particularly hard landing, and nerve, with her words, Eva got up from the couch and quickly shut herself into her and Jonas room. The brunette swallowed heavily, picked his phone up from the glass inlay coffee table. He navigated to Isak’s name, the call log appearing beside it. There were no new calls. Jonas released a frustrated grunt before muttering under his breath, “Can’t you just fucking talk to me?” Knowing that no matter how cathartic it may be, cursing at Isak’s contact info on his phone was not going to resolve anything, Jonas opened a new conversation and began typing.

You: Hey Isak. It’s been almost four years.

We should’ve kept in touch.

We should’ve been there for each other.

I should’ve been there for you.

But we can’t continue to let my negligence define our friendship.

Me and Eva are getting married in a little over a year.

I understand if you can’t come to the engagement party.

I would like it very much if you could come to the wedding though.

This is Jonas btw.

I wasn’t sure if you still had my number.

17:22 

A pair of wide, burnt umber eyes were focused on Even expectantly. A second pair of stormy, cautious, dark brown eyes were fixed upon him as well. The friends sat apprehensively, waiting for the reason of their ‘house meeting’ to be explained by Even. The man finally let out a conflicted sigh, gaining the attention of his roommates. He looked between them before finally blurting out.

“I got promoted at work. I’m the National Creative Director for PurKonchus’s new campaign for combat athletes. I’m getting a fifteen percent raise and three percent commission on our gross quarterly sales.”, Even spoke robotically. Both Mikael and Sonja sprung up from their positions the edge of the love seat, gathering Even into a celebratory hug.

“Even that’s incredible man!”

“I’m so proud of you!”

“Maybe we can start planning that vacation now!”

“It’s so nice they finally realized how effective you could be.”

Even couldn’t keep the small smile off his face as he let go of his friends. Their larger, mirrored smiles only made him feel more guilty though. The newly promoted employee awkwardly cleared his throat before speaking. “Thank you guys. Really, I’m so happy to share this news with you.” The pair of roommates gave their friend genuine if slightly weary smiles. The tension in the small living room hinted at a yet to be dropped shoe. This dual suspicion was confirmed as the tall blonde continued to talk to his best friend and ex girlfriend.

“This fucking sucks but, um….One of you probably needs to move out within the next month or so.” The roommates suspicions were confirmed, both previously weary smiles now full blown confused and upset frowns.“Why? Like, do they need you to move?”, Mikael asked.
“Yeah I mean, depending on where you might need to go, maybe it’d be better if one or even both of us went with you?”, Sonja hazarded, a fair question considering her current knowledge of the situation.

The newly crowned creative director gave a gently shake of his head. “Am I correct in assuming that, ideally, neither of you enjoy switching off weekly between the pullout couch and the second bedroom?” Mikael fixed Even with an intrigued gaze.
“It can be bad on my back sometimes, but then again I would’ve never started doing yoga if it wasn’t for that.” The olive skinned man let his eyes flit over to Sonja, giving her a warm smile. The older woman returned it, fondly remembering how helpful getting Mikael to attend her yoga classes had been for his shoddy box spring induced back pain. She nodded her head along with her friend’s statement before replying. “It can be a bit uncomfortable at times, but I guess I’ve gotten used to it for the most part.”

Even let a lungful of breath flap his lips together, making him sound like a bored child. “And uh…..how would you feel, either of you I mean, “the man bizarrely interjected,” if you were to sleep on an actual bed each night. Like, a new bed I mean?” He nervously cleared his throat before adding his last question.

“A new bed in a…..in a new apartment?” It was now Even who was looking at his friend’s with a weary smile. The pair standing opposite him widened their eyes, glancing to each other and then to Even. Sonja and Mikael were both thinking the same thing, but neither one were sure of how to address it. Several more awkward seconds of silence passed before Sonja finally decided to speak.

“Even, are you suggesting that you would want to get one of us, whoever moves out that is, a new apartment?” Her ex-boyfriend’s brows leapt up to his forehead. He remembered how seamlessly Sonja used to be able to interpret and predict what he was really trying to say. Those days were long gone now, but it was clear some degree of ability still resided in Even’s friend.

“Not exactly. I would definitely want to look over possible options though. And I’d certainly be willing to pitch in on the rent for the first few months. But honestly, the reason I’m asking is….well”, Even sat back down in the ornate, mahogany chair he’d been sat in earlier, “There’s a likely chance that this new position is going to cause some stress. I know I haven’t had an episode in almost two years. And the last one was fairly easily managed.” Even put as much appreciation and love into his gaze as he could before continuing.

“With my salary increase and quarterly commission, we don’t really need three people to pay for the apartment anymore. And I know each one of you would love to have a place or at least a room of your own. Not to mention that it’s not either of your jobs to look after me.”
Mikael flashed the man an empathetic smile. “We don’t do it cause it’s our job man. We do it because we love you.” Sonja nodded in agreement. “And I think it’s an intelligent decision that you’re choosing to stay here. I know your bipolar has gotten easier to deal with since you were younger, but having someone who can be there for you isn’t a weakness Even.”

The man looked at his ex with a slightly quizzical eye. “I know that. I’m just saying that it’s something that whoever ends up staying may have to deal with.” Both friends nodded. That was another thing that had gotten easier since Even was younger: distinguishing his feelings. Rarely did he have to question himself on the sincerity of a thought or emotion. No, his more recent aggravation was unwanted thoughts and emotions. Especially the ones he was too afraid to act on. His brain kicked itself, reminding him of the last thing he wanted to tell Mikael and Sonja.
“Which brings me to the last thing I wanted to let you know. I’m not going to be choosing which one of you moves out. You both mean a lot to me, and there’s literally no way I could remain unbiased making either decision.”

Mikael interrupted before his friend could continue.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna make us grapple to see who stays in the apartment?” The statement was said in jest, but the intent behind it was clear. You’re really making us do this on our own? Even released a humored snort and shook his head. “No Mikki, there will not be a grappling match for ultimate roommate supremacy. Besides, we both know Sonja would tap you in like fifteen seconds.” The woman gave Mikael a sympathetic lift of her shoulders, palm facing the ceiling, as Even met her other hand in a fist bump.

The black haired man rolled his eyes affectionately. “It was new years eve and I was smashed bro!”, he said, jokingly defending himself. All three friends had a good chuckle before an heir of light awkwardness washed over the room. Even’s mind traveling back to a time when watching his two friends try and submit each other caused a considerably different reaction. “Well”, Even started, “That’s pretty much everything I wanted to tell you guys. I don’t need to know the details or how you guys come to a decision, but I will need to an answer within the next two weeks. Gotta say though, it’s been pretty sweet having you both around.”

Mikael and Sonja both cooed with an ‘aww’ before Even fondly rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Alright you dorks, get in here.” The three friends repeated the group hug from earlier, this one tinged with just a drop of melancholy.

20:05

“Well?", Elias gave Isak a wide, proud smile. Isak tried his best to put on an appreciative, thankfully smile. “Yeah! Elias, this is um….it’s great.”, Isak explained, trying to sound enthusiastic. Unfortunately for Isak, Elias knew when his fighter was trying to be genuine and when he was trying to be…..nice. “Is something wrong? We’ve been trying to get you sponsored for a while now.”

“Oh, I know, and I’m super thankful, really! But didn’t this company get busted selling PED’s like three years ago?” Surprisingly, Elias fixed Isak with a smile, nodding his head before explaining. “They were, but Mutta and his firm actually bought them out. They’re doing a complete rebranding. And that’s where you come in dude! They want young, promising fighters and athletes Isak.” The boy still looked a bit unsure, causing Elias to try a different tactic.

“Ok, think about it this way. This is your chance to get in on the ground floor. If it doesn’t take off, it’s not like you have anything invested in it. And if it does, think about how much you have to gain man! It’s a zero risk situation for you either way.” The boxing coach watched as his fighter spun the chair half from the center to the left, to the right, back again, over and over. “I guess, I’m more concerned about the association with it you know? Like, maybe other sponsors won’t be as eager to contact me if it’s like ‘oh, this kid is part of that company that got popped by WADA.” Elias pressed his lips into to each other, leaning back in his office chair while nodding understandingly.

“I can definitely understand that. But Isak, if there’s one thing people love in this sport it’s a comeback story. The whole redemption narrative is part of the reason Mutta’s been so receptive to the whole thing. Sooo…..what do you say?” Isak knew he was going to say yes, but couldn’t resist making his coach sweat. “Damn Elias, I’m really not sure,” a mix of disappointment an frustration cast over the older man’s face, his jaw moving just slightly before Isak finished sentence, “What I’m going to have for lunch today.” A childlike, goofy smile broke over the blondes face while his coach groaned and shook his head. He rounded the desk in front of him, roughly pulling his fighter into an embrace. “I’m getting old little viking, you’ve only got a few more years to scare me like that.” The friends laughed as they exited the gym owner’s office. Isak felt his right thigh vibrating and dinging; he could’ve sworn he put it on silent before sitting down to talk to Elias.

The young man quickly fished the device from hid pocket, his jaw and throat becoming strained at the message he saw.

Jonas V: Hey Isak. It’s been almost four years.

We should’ve kept in touch.

We should’ve been there for each other.

I should’ve been there for you.

But we can’t continue to let my negligence define our friendship.

Me and Eva are getting married in a little over a year.

I understand if you can’t come to the engagement party.

I would like it very much if you could come to the wedding though.

This is Jonas btw.

I wasn’t sure if you still had my number.

Isak felt the painful reminder of his and Jonas falling out, warm tears threatening to break over his lashes as he swiftly locked himself in the bathroom adjacent to Elias’ office. Letting out a stuttered breath, the young fighter leaned against the wall considering what, if anything, he should text back. Nah, it’s cool Jonas, you didn’t abandon me out of guilt or anything. The thought may have been unfair, but that didn’t make it any less true in Isak’s mind. He knew this would happen if, no, when he and his best friend started talking again. Finally settling on what he hoped was a safe, non-committal response, Isak began to text back.

You: Hi Jonas.

Yeah, it’s been a bit.

I’d like to come to your engagement party.

Let me know when you’ll be in town, we can have a kebab and chat.

And I kept your number, btw.

Satisfied with himself, Isak sent the text to his friend. He couldn’t help like feeling that there was some unwritten subtext to what he’d said though. Hi Jonas. I’m sorry we’re both fucking cowards. I’d like to come to your engagement party. I don’t know why I thought your life would stop when I stopped being a central part of it. Let me know when you’ll be in town, we can have a kebab and chat. Warn me before you come here so I have a chance to act like I’m Ok. Maybe some sense nostalgia will help us both. Also I kept your number, btw. How could you fucking think I’d ever turn my back on you? You’re still my best friend. Isak cleared his throat, checking his face for any obvious distress signs before exiting the bathroom. He definitely didn’t feel like kebab for lunch today.

Chapter Text

Tirsdag

Oktober 9th, 2018

16:33

Even’s eyes kept cycling between slowly drooping closed and popping open again rapidly. The third time it happened, Adam let out a frustrated groan and shook his friend’s shoulder, hoping to jar the sleepiness from him. “Dude, are you sleeping okay?” The tall blonde cocked his head to look at his cubicle mate. “Oh no, my sleep’s been fine. I just didn’t realize when I signed onto this position that I was going to have slog through all these bullshit ‘creative director guidelines’.”, Even complained, complete with finger quotes.

Adam peered over at the laptop sitting in front of his friend, letting out a whistle when he saw the small 3/9 pages indicator at the bottom right of the screen. “Isn’t the whole point of the position to be…..creative?”, his dark haired coworker questioned. Even gave a shrug, stating that the title of the position may really be only just that. “I get not wanting to worry about legal issues, but Christ, they may as well have just told me what they wanted me to come up with.”

It was Even’s first official day as creative director for the company’s new campaign, but he already felt he was being hindered.

“Listen to this shit man.” Even exclaimed, reading out a small list of guidelines that were currently displayed on his laptop. “Caution should be taken when establishing a new marketing campaign. Instead of trying new, possibly unsuccessful, marketing techniques or strategies, stick to what has worked in the past. Your focus should be on attracting the customer base. Avoid becoming too niche or particular in regards to your selling points.”

The jiu-jitsu instructor threw up his hands with an exasperated sigh. “Have any of these people even met a fighter before? All they are is niche and particular!” His friend couldn’t help the agreeing laugh that he emitted. “Hey man, it’s literally your first day. Maybe they’re just trying to cover their bases. I mean, there’s gotta be a reason for those guidelines right?” Even’s left eyebrow floated up to his forehead as he responded to Adam.

“Yeah, there is a reason. They don’t understand their customer base and are too lazy to actually educate themselves. So what do they do? Get someone they know has had a long career, over a decade’s worth, of working with fighters. Then, as soon as that person is in the position, they expect them to just accept the status quo.” The man shook his head, his lips drawing into a crooked pout at the side of his mouth. “It’s like, I have all this knowledge. I understand how a fighter’s mind works, what they want in a product. What they look for, what they’ll respond to…..and they just want me to forget all that so they don’t have to rework their marketing strategies. Bullshit dude.”

After his impassioned rant, Adam looked at him with a tentative set of eyes. “Totally man, I can see how that would be upsetting. But, uh…...you know-“ Even cut his friend before he could continue. “Yes Adam, I know I accepted the position. Just shouldn’t have had any expectations I guess.” As the shorter man gave a knowing hum Even’s eyes picked up on his silently ringing phone.

Calling: Elias

Even clasped his hands together, stretching his shoulders in front of and above his head before snatching up the phone and accepting the call. “Elias, how’s it going?” On the other end, Even could hear the sounds of the gym seeping through from the background. “Pretty good man. Listen I know you don’t have class tonight, but the co-instructor for my mma grappling class had to cancel and Isak really prefers having a black belt to drill with. Think you could fill in? I’d be paying you of course.”

Elias threw the last statement in out of habit more than anything. Even’s mind scrambled. This wasn’t how he planned on talking to Isak, but despite the splash of nervousness in his stomach he couldn’t wait to finally introduce himself to the boy. Although Elias didn’t need to know that. “Isak, he’s the blonde forty-fiver right? Doesn’t like inappropriate music on the p.a. system when I’m teaching the kids?” This coaxed a chuckle out of Elias. “Yeah man, that’d be the one. The class is at 18:45 but you should get there at 18:30.” The black belt nodded his head while responding to his friend. “18:30, I’ll be there.”

Elias thanked Even for filling in on short notice, saying he was surprised he and Isak hadn’t officially met yet. Yeah Even why is that? Even attempted to drive those thoughts to the back of his head and continue reading the creatively limiting guidelines in front of him. Maybe you can get creative with Isak. What the fuck!? Relax we haven’t even met the guy yet! The creative director powered through his dueling thoughts, willing the end of the workday to come to an end as soon as possible.

17:43

Isak’s squinted eyes were being flanked by the thumb and first two fingers of his right hand. He caught Elias’ eyes with his own pair of narrowed, sarcastic green marbles. “Elias….kid-jitsu guy? Really?” The boxing coach dropped his back onto the thai bag behind him, groaning frustratedly. “Oh my god Isak, who do you want? Rickson Gracie? Actually you know what, I think I have him on speed dial.” Isak let a playful scoff exit his lips before telling his coach how badly the speed dial reference dated him.

Elias seemingly agreed with the young fighter before responding. “You’re right Isak. I am older than you. And because I’m older than you, I’m also like, way smarter than you. But beyond that, I’m your coach. And if you don’t think you can trust my choice of training partner well..”, The man trailed off, letting his gaze fall down to the floor. Isak become concerned he’d offended his coach after a few moments, immediately trying to remedy the situation.

“Shit man. I didn’t mean I didn’t trust you or something. I just think that, well, I guess because he’s never fought before maybe…..” It was Isak’s turn to trail off now, noticing how Elias’ face had changed. Finally the older man faced his fighter fully, a barely concealed grin on his face. As soon as Isak saw this he gently pushed the man’s shoulder, loudly exclaiming “You dick!”, while smiling himself, Elias let a bubbling laugh erupt from himself. “Oh little viking, you’re so easy!” Isak beamed at his coach before becoming a bit more serious.

“Really though Elias, I know the guy’s a great jiu-jitsu practitioner, but is he good at translating it to mma?” The man gave a tilt of his head while pushing bottom lip into the top one. “He was the head grappling coach at Stavanger for a reason Isak. I know you have some reservations, but Even’s legit man. And whatever you may have heard about him, just know that he’s a great guy ok?” Isak gave his coach a look of acceptance nodding his head slowly.

The young martial artist checked the time on his phone, estimating he had enough time for a little workout before Even showed up. As Isak was switching between bag work and fifteen second sprints on the Versaclimber he felt a presence at his back.

Clearing his throat Isak addressed the person while he worked up a sweat. “Kind of in the middle of something here.”

“Oh I know,” the familiar warmth of Magnus’ voice floated into the young man’s ears, ”But this is more important.”

Feeling a bit slighted, Isak stepped off the exercise machine looking his friend in the eyes. “Tell me Mags, what could possibly be more important than me getting swol.?”

Magnus gave the boy a bright smile. “You remember I told you Olmeive was on tap as an alternate for the Geiranger versus Kolumalu fight?” Isak nodded his head, perking up at bit at hearing his teammates name. Magnus continued explaining how their friend was called in to save the fight on short notice.

“So apparently, Geiranger choked out some bouncer outside a club because he called his cousin a slur or something. And as badass as that is, he’s out of the fight. They called Olm the next day man. He’ll be fighting at a catch weight since it’s only two weeks out, but fuck bro, I’m so excited!” Isak returned his friend’s enthusiasm, expressing his happiness for their teammate.

“That’s fucking awesome Magnus! You think he might even get some offers from other promotions?”

The other boy shrugged while still maintaining his smile. “Totally possible man. Oh Isak, I can’t believe it.”, the wrestling coach pretended to cry tears of pride, wrapping an arm around his friend, “It seems like only yesterday I was teaching him to sprawl and get underhooks.” Isak chuckled at his friend’s imitation of a mama bird letting her offspring out into the wild.

“Imagine the sponsorship deals he might get if he wins too.”

Having completed his act out, Magnus nodded in accord with Isak. “Absolutely dude. And I mean I know it’s early to tell and everything and obviously I’m biased, but I feel like we’ve got something really special with Olmeive ya know?” The authenticity in the coach’s eyes made Isak proud, but there was also an uncomfortable streak of jealously as well.

Yeah Isak, bigger promotions and sponsors are really interested in 2-1 fighters with unresolved daddy issues.

As the fighter was going to change topics with Magnus, his eyes caught a wavy, medium shorn mop of dark chocolate hair talking with one of his female kickboxing students. Upon further inspection Isak realized the kickboxer wasn’t just a student, but Feliciana Corderon, one of Bred Akse’s most promising up and coming fighters. The jealously he felt now stemmed from something else. Talk to him Isak. You’re so damn worried you overstepped a line with Chris. Get a definitive answer! Besides, he was probably just fucking with you. You know how much the guy likes messing with people.

Bearing those thoughts in mind, Isak excused himself from his conversation with Magnus and slowly walked over to where Chris and his student were coincidentally discussing Olmeive’s short notice title shot. The younger boy cleared his throat, appearing to achieve the attention of Feliciana first.

“Oh Isak, we were just talking about Olm’s title shot. Chris thinks it’s immoral to put money on your teammates. Can you believe that?”

The Brazilian born woman fixed Isak with a playful look of feingned incredulity. Before the younger boy could answer Chris responded to his student with an heir of flirtation.

“No, Ana, I said it’s bad karma to put money on your own teammate.” The copper skinned kickboxer appeared to have a response already whipped up.

“Oh so when you gambled on the fighters from your old gym down in Thailand….?”, She left the question hanging in the air, expanding before Chris could deflate it with a dismissive, but amiable flap of his lips.

“It doesn’t count when literally everyone else is betting Feliciana. Besides, all my guys won.”, Chris responded giving a his female student a shrug of faux humbleness. She smiled widely at herself and Isak’s coach before informing them she needed to warm up and moving away towards the heavy bags.

Chris gave his fighter and open, inquisitive expression.

“So, what’s up Isak. How can Dr. Schistad help you today?”

The younger man couldn’t help cracking a smile at Chris’s reference to himself. That smile dissipated quickly once he remembered the reason he wanted to talk in the first place.

“Yeah um, I’d like to talk you.”

Chris gave the blonde an imploring look, waiting for him to continue.

Isak noticed he needed to be more specific and quickly tried to accomplish this.

“Uh, could we talk like, with less people?”

Again, the striking coach’s face transformed into the look of a man trying to sift through to the real meaning of what was being said. Isak tried again.

“I’d like to talk to you alone.”

After receiving the decidedly more direct response, Chris let Isak sweat just a bit before replying.

“Our classes don't officially start for another twenty minutes. Wanna get stoned in my car?”

Although somewhat surprised by it, it was not an offer Isak had any intention of refusing.

18:36

Isak’s eyelids had lazily slid down, his irises now resembling a green sunset on an alien beach. He glanced across to where his friend and coach was slowly allowing the smoke from mouth to curl up to his nose. His nostrils then pulling the billowing cloud in, creating what Isak thought might be the best French inhale he’d ever seen. Fuck. Why is that so hot? Maybe it’s just hot cause it’s Chris. Wow. You are a thirsty little hoe Isak.

Chris’s timing couldn’t have been better to kill his fighter’s overly analytical stream of thoughts.

“So”, the man started, “I’m guessing we’re sitting in my car getting high because of my failed seduction last week?” If Isak’s eyes had opened any wider he would’ve begun to resemble an anime character. He turned to look at his coach, a mélange of emotions skirting over his face. The young fighter spoke with a heavy tone of shame in his voice.

“Chris….fuck”, he looked down at his lap, too upset to meet his friends eyes, “I’m so sorry. You were drunk and-and I shouldn’t have tried anything. I-I mean I know I didn’t but if you hadn’t gotten sick-“

Chris turned to look at Isak fully, concern and confusion explicit on his face.

“Whoa whoa whoa, Isak hey, hey”, he placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on the boys shoulder and began to gently rub and squeeze, “You didn’t do anything wrong dude. Literally nothing. Hell, if anything I came onto you!” As Chris realized this another possibility crossed his mind. He looked at the younger boy with a pair of eyes that seemed ready to apologize.

“Shit, Isak, I didn’t make you uncomfortable did I?” The man heaved a large sigh before continuing.

“I was just fucking drunk and we were alone and in my defense you looked really good that night-“

“Chris.”

“-Which I know isn’t really an excuse, but I guess sober me is kind of a little scared of talking to people I like-“

“Chris!” The exclamation drew him out of his explanation as Isak realized what the man had just said. “Wait, you like me?”

A perplexed expression showed on the older man’s face.

“Of course I like you Isak. Look, I know I can be ambiguous and flirty and…” Christoffer struggled to find the word, “Confusing. But just because most the time I’m flirting or whatever it’s not genuine doesn’t mean it never is. Particularly when it comes to you.”

Isak had absolutely no idea how to respond. There was no precedent in his life to call upon. No previous experience to draw from. Even with girls it was all fabricated, so trying to implement those tactics here seemed disingenuous to both himself and Chris. So Isak came up with the only answer he could muster.

“Why?”, he turned his head to his coach, now giving the man his full attention.

A flirtatious, but never the less real smile graced Chris’s face. “Well for one, you are one hundred percent, ten out of ten, drop dead fucking gorgeous Isak Valtersen.” This statement brought pools of pink to Isak’s cheeks and a poorly hidden smile to his lips. No one had ever talked about him like that. He peered back up, silently asking Chris to give his other reason.

“And also because……you’re you man.”, the man responded with a chuckle and shrug. “I’ve met a lot of people who didn’t have the easiest time in life, but there’s something about you Isak. You’ve been through so much, overcome so much.” Isak was now actively trying to will away the moisture collecting in his eyes. Stupid weed, making me emotional.

“But, you’re still here. And you’re not just here. You’re thriving! A lot of the shit you went through, a lot of people wouldn’t have overcome it Isak. Some people would’ve even used as an excuse to stay comfortable. To stay stagnant. You didn’t do that though. And I guess for whatever reason……I’m really attracted to that.”

Isak had been stunned into silence. The amount of information Chris had just given him, nevermind the emotional implications behind it, was more than the fighter could absorb all at once. He was like an overly saturated sponge, unable to hold onto the water it was being surrounded in. After an impossibly long silence, which in reality was only a little over a minute, Isak finally replied.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable that night Chris. I was just scared.” As he spoke, Isak felt the first tear fall from his right eye, followed by a second from his left. He also realized just how close his face had drifted to his striking coach’s. The man flashed him a sympathetic expression before speaking.

“Why?”

Pulling in a shuddering breath Isak cleared his throat of the full sensation it had quickly acquired. He’s being real with you Isak. You owe him that same courtesy. You owe it to yourself. He looked Chris in his eyes, polished emerald garnets meeting glossy, swirled obsidian.

“I think I was just scared of allowing myself to have…..to…to have something that maybe I wanted.”

Isak could feel Chris’s breath against his lips. His brain immediate flashing back to the previous week in the apartment. Only this time there was no alcohol. Only the slowly disappearing cannabis smoke and the bright orange sunset of early Autumn Oslo. Chris’s gaze pierced through him. Shined light on the spaces Isak tried to keep hidden. Gave the thoughts and ideas the younger boy was constantly pushing away a place to be themselves.

“I would give you, anything you want Isak.”, Chris moved impossibly closer to Isak, the blonde closing his eyes as he noticed the man across from him doing the same. Their lips met in a gentle, comforting embrace for the briefest of moments before an obnoxiously loud tapping broke the two apart.

Chris angrily rolled down the driver’s side window of his Volkswagen, shooting daggers into the seemingly judgmental cerulean eyes peering back at him. The man spoke with a hint of derision in his smooth, deep voice.

“Is getting stoned with your student who’s supposed to be teaching right now a pre-class ritual for you or something Schistad?”

Chris replied with an amount of venom in his words that would put a black mamba to shame.

“I don’t know Naesheim, is interrupting a completely private conversation and being a total fucking asshole part of yours?”

Thinking they were merely going to trade insults with a thin veil of dislike for one another, Even was rather stunned at the vitriol in the man’s voice. He surmised he must’ve interrupted a very important conversation and only put his hands up in defense as he walked away. Chris immediately turned back to Isak, a look of fear written across his face. Unfortunately, the older man knew exactly why Isak was scared, deciding to put his fears to rest.

“Hey, Isak, it’s okay alright? He didn’t see anything, he just thinks we were getting high.” Isak nodded while drying his eyes with his knuckles and the palms of his hand. The two men sat in the car, processing everything that had just happened. When Chris felt he was going to collapse in on himself from the tension in the air, he decided to speak.

“So, I guess we need get back to the gym and uh-“

“Did you mean it? What you said?”

Chris was somewhat surprised by Isak’s blurting out, but answered him all the same. He locked eyes with the young man, putting as much truth, emotion, and authenticity into his eyes as possible.

“Every word Isak. I meant every word of it.”

The golden haired youth gave a slow affirming nod before leaning over and planting a soft kiss of Chris’s cheek. It was now the older man’s cheeks that were turning pink against his lightly tanned skin. Isak looked back at his coach, giving him a small, private smile. A smile few people ever saw from him in recent years. He clapped his left hand on the Chris’s shoulder.

“You’re a good person Chris.” You don’t deserve the pain I’d cause you.

With that, Isak exited the car, reestablishing the persona he would need to be an effective instructor. And leaving behind a simultaneously confused and highly elated Christoffer Schistad.

Chapter Text

18:41

Even heard the influx of downtown Oslo through the open door, glancing up from his phone to see Isak coming back into the gym, looking noticeably more relaxed. Contrary to what Chris may have thought, Even didn’t care about Isak getting stoned. He knew lots of fighters and jiu-jitsu practitioners enjoyed using cannabis before rolling. No, he was more upset that it seemed that Isak would rather get high with his kickboxing coach than be on time for a class he instructed weekly.

Isak strode up to where Even was now stretching his shoulders and neck. The older man was on all fours, his right arm pulled across his body and underneath it, head tilted to look at the ceiling. Even shifted his eyes from studying the fiberglass composite paneling that made up Bred Akse’s roof interior to meet those of Isak. As he deepened his stretch the sleeve of his Hayabusa compression shirt rode up revealing a set of Japanese characters. Isak was intrigued.

Nodding his head to the characters, the pink yellow and blue making them pop on Even’s pale skin, Isak inquired, “Is that a Japanese jiu-jitsu thing?” Even sat back up slowly before getting to his feet and answering.

“It is. The kanji for Jujutsu actually. Sorry if I interrupted your conversation with Schistad by the way.” He gave Isak a blinding smile, offering his hand for a formal introduction. Isak accepted.

“Even Bech Naesheim. It’s good to finally meet properly."

Isak gave a quick set of elevator eyes over the taller male. Goddammit. He’s hot.

“Isak Valtersen. I’m a featherweight signed to NFC.”

Even produced a smaller although no less genuine smile.

“I know, I’ve actually been following your career for a bit now.”

The younger martial artist made a dismissive noise.

“I wouldn’t call three professional fights and a 2-1 record a career, but I appreciate the support.” Even couldn’t help himself. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t develop a crush on anyone in the gym. Wouldn’t repeat previous mistakes. His mouth decided to break that promise.

With an easy smile he responded, “Oh no, I was rooting for the other guys.” The statement was made with a casual tone, but it made Isak huff out a small chuckle. Yes. Even’s emotions- 1, Even’s brain- 0.

The older man was too caught up in congratulating himself internally to realize Isak had asked another question.

“Shit. Sorry, what’d you ask?”

“I asked why your tattoo was those colors. Is it like a flag or something?”

Even reminded himself to not become over excited and freak the boy out. He just loved when an opportunity to educate someone presented itself so naturally.

“The pansexual flag yeah. Got it when I was about your age. This awesome little shop in downtown Osaka.”

Isak squinted his eyes, pitching his head just to the side, appearing as if he was trying to solve a difficult algebra problem in his head.

“Pansexual. Isn’t that just like, I don’t know, bisexuality plus trans people?”

Even’s smile immediately fell off his face. Please don’t be a fucking douchebag. His eyes bore into Isak’s, an unappreciative expression covering his face.

“Um, it’s a bit more complicated than that. It’s a lot more about not caring how someone your attracted to identifies. Like what gender they mi-“, before the black belt could finish, Isak was pulling Olmeive into a one armed hug, congratulating him on his title shot. The regulars for the young fighter’s class were starting to stream into the gym.

Chill Even. Wouldn’t be the first cute guy to be a dick to you. Probably won’t be the last.

Pushing away his disappointment and frustration at Isak’s rather flippant treatment of his sexuality, Even decided it would be best to focus on the task at hand. Once all six pairs of students had stepped onto the mat Isak addressed them.

“As you guys may have noticed, Mahdi was unfortunately not able to make it tonight so, “ Isak transferred his gaze from the class to Even, an unimpressed look adorning his face, “Even here will be helping me. I know we’ve been working on leg locks quite a bit recently, so tonight we’re gonna switch it up and work on defending and securing arm triangles.”

“Kata Gatame.”

Isak turned his head to stare at the taller grappler.

“Excuse me?”

“Kata Gatame. It’s the Japanese name for that submission.”

If Isak’s rolled his eyes and harder they may have become stuck in a perpetual loop. The pansexual Jujutsu kanji on Even’s arm made a lot more sense now. Heaving out a labored sigh he replied to his substitute training partner.

“Jesus, you’re one of those guys aren’t you?”

Even’s jaw clenched unwittingly as he responded, his tone containing a smattering of condescension.

“Someone who thinks you should call and define things by their proper name? Yes I would say so.”

The reference to Isak’s decidedly rude response earlier to the taller blonde explaining his sexuality didn’t go unnoticed by the mma fighter.

“No. A Ne-Waza nerd who doesn’t understand that Jujutsu was originally designed so that you could kill or disarm your enemy in battle and get back into said battle as quickly as possible without getting your fucking head chopped off.”

An uncomfortable silence permeated the area of the gym where Isak held his class. This was going to be a long training session.

19:12

“You know there are more ways than going knee on belly to pass guard right?”

Even was staring at his training partner with a raised eyebrow and bored look in his eye. Isak responded, hoping his words would finally shut the older martial artist up so he could focus on instructing.

“You know most people don’t have legs from a goddamn giraffe transplanted onto their hips right?”

A few audible snickers could be heard from the students currently waiting for their instructor’s to finish their demonstration. Instead of responding, Even quickly shifted his left leg in between Isak’s, placing his right leg between the calf and thigh of the fighter’s left leg. He then elevated his left while pushing and posturing to the opposite direction with his right all while yanking Isak’s head down to his chest, successfully turning the younger man over and quickly establishing mount. A well earned, smug smile rested on Even’s face as sat heavy on Isak’s hips, crossing his arms. Isak’s face was red. Mostly from embarrassment, but not completely. Did this son of a bitch just sweep me!? Isak quickly saved face, pushing the bigger man off of him while addressing the class.

“While that was a great sweep Even, that’s not really what we’re working on tonight. Let’s try again shall we?”

The smile in Even’s face had been reduced to a subtle satisfaction as he rolled onto his back and opened his legs, Isak settling into the older blonde’s guard again. Isak moved himself and Even until they were parallel to the class, the best vantage point to observe the technique.

“Even showed us a good defense for someone trying to pass your guard. Which means we need a good offense to get around it.”

After stating this, Isak sat up on his knees to talk to his class.

“If I stand too tall in his guard, I risk getting a submission thrown on me.”

At Isak’s cadence, Even walked his right leg up to Isak’s shoulder popping the other one over his other shoulder when Isak attempted to retreat.

“So, we need to see stay close. Space equals waste guys.”

After saying this he collapsed himself down onto Even, probably harder than necessary for a demonstration. As Isak heard a slightly pained exhalation, he reminded himself not smile. As he continued to speak, the fighter’s voice was gently muffled by his partners shirt.

“Now, here he can still hit me, but he can’t really get any power into his shots. So, the next thing we wanna do is pick a leg, I’ll go with the right one so you guys can see.”

Isak slid his elbows in close to each other on Even’s stomach, the inside points only a few inches apart.

“I keep my arms close, my elbows in. Now if he tries snatching an arm, it’s way easier to break his grip and readjust.”

Even made a show of trying to control Isak’s hands as the shorter boy repeatedly broke his grip.

“Next, I need to make him uncomfortable. So what am I going to attack. The outside of the thighs?”

The fighter shifted his hips inside his training partners guard, miming landing the inside point of his elbow to Even’s thigh. As he did this, Even secured his wrist, forcefully pinning it to the mat.

“Hmm, that doesn’t work so well does it? Maybe the tops of the thigh?”

Isak repositioned and started driving his elbows into Even’s quads, but the elder martial artist kept moving his legs while keeping his feet crossed behind Isak’s waist. Doing this, the younger man was unable to consistently work one spot in his partner’s thigh.

“Nope. That won’t do it either. Especially if your opponent has some crazy Muay Thai thighs.”

A few acknowledging laughs floated around the mat.

“Maybe the insides of the thigh?”

Isak brought the apex of his left elbow down into the shallow hollow of Even’s groin, keeping it glued to the inside of his thigh and harshly grinding along the sensitive tissue there. After several seconds, Even’s right leg gave out and slid off from Isak’s waist. Isak smiled at his class.

“Alright, now how do we get to half guard? Again, stick to him like glue. I’m going to slide my knee into the space separating his groin and the inside of his thigh and press as much of my weight as possible into the point of my knee while keeping my hips low.”

Since Isak was instructing while he was moving he now had Even’s right leg trapped between his own.

“Now it is possible to get this choke from half guard, but we’re gonna go with the sure thing. So I’m gonna stick my head to the mat,” Isak pushed his forehead to the spongy material, ”And if he has any idea what I’m doing he’s going to go for my neck.” Even now loosely wrapped his right arm around the smaller fighter’s neck.

“When he’s doing this you’re going to pretend to try to touch your head to the outside of your knee while at the same time moving you head forward.”

Isak was now nearly is position to complete the submission.

“Now that I’ve cleared the arm I can secure the head”, Isak swiftly snuck his right arm underneath his partners head, “Pass to side control,” he then pushed his right knee through the space in Even’s guard, utilizing the same tactic he’d shown before, “Secure the arm”, with his right leg free Isak shifted his hips to a nearly perpendicular position to Even’s, sliding his left hand up to join the one behind the other man’s head, “And squeeze.”

Using the right side of his head and shoulder, Isak compressed Even’s right arm into to his own face and neck, the arms behind the taller man’s head flexing and squeezing together. As Isak slowly applied pressure to the submission he saddled his lips next to Even’s ear speaking in a hushed tone directly into his training partner’s auditory canal.

“You ever undermine me like that again in front of my students and I’ll choke you so fucking hard you won’t remember all your pretty little Japanese submission names.”

Despite being completely at the fighter’s mercy, Even couldn’t resist his sarcastic response.

“Sounds kinky.”, the older man struggled out, despite the blood flow in his carotid artery slowly being closed off. Isak decided to reinforce his point, squeezing the other man with an intensity rarely seen when he was only training.

“Am I fucking clear?”

“Crystal.”, was Even’s gurgled response.

Even made a show of tapping the mma fighter’s side, not only to show the class the submission was effective, but because he wasn’t entirely sure that given the chance Isak wouldn’t choke him unconscious. The young man disengaged himself front the submission and sat back on his heels, speaking to the class in a contrastingly up beat voice considering his previous threat to Even.

“Alright guys, let’s get to work. And ladies, if you have a male partner, remember the anatomy you’re dealing with please.”

This succeeded in earning a laugh from the class, Isak’s students getting into position and going through the steps of the submission. Once all the martial artists were focused on practicing, the fighter turned a pair of sharp, pine green eyes back to Even, pitching his voice low as he got up from the mat.

“I meant what I said.”

20:42

A loud, singular clap echoed across the walls of the gym as Isak started to draw the class to a close. The time slot was scheduled between 18:45 and 20:15. It was now well past 20:30. The boy made a note to himself to not entertain Even’s goads and taunts in the future. At Isak’s clap, the class formed into their respective pairs, waiting for any important announcements Isak may make.

“Good roll tonight everybody. You guys put forth a lot of effort.” Side eying Even, the shorter blonde continued.

“As class was in session I got some unfortunate news about Mahdi. He went to the doctor today to get what he thought was a deep muscle bruise checked out. Turns out it was a partially torn MCL. Because of that, he’s going to be out for the next six to eight weeks. So, meet your substitute co-instructor.”

Isak presented his hands beside Even as if he was showing off a consolation prize on a game show. The older man drew his lips into a tight smile as he spoke to the class.

“I’m looking forward to you teaching you guys. I can be a bit of an…..eccentric,” As Even said this he threw a quick glance to Isak as if you reinforce his displeasure with the other man’s previous behavior, “But I assure that eccentricity has it’s benefits. All of which I’m excited to share with you.”

Seeing his new training partner had finished talking, Isak dismissed the class and began to gather up his things. He pushed his water bottle, hand wraps and scheduling notebook into the small canvas bag. He was eager to get home; there was a fresh salmon fillet with steamed potatoes and sweet tahini sauce waiting for him. Once he’d zipped the duffel bag and thrown the strap over his shoulder, an annoyed looking Even approached him.

“Hey. Listen kid, I don’t know what kind of alpha bullshit you’re trying to pull, but it’s not gonna work on me. I don’t have to do this. If anything this is a favor to Elias. You should just be grateful he even found a replacement for Ma-“, before he could finish saying the out of commission grappler’s name Isak struck back with a steel edge in his voice.

“You’ve been out of the sport for quite some time, so let me remind you of a little something, Even. A gym might be your home. It might be a place where you can bond with your best friends. Hell, it may even be a family for some people.” Excluding yourself on that one Isak? “And I would never deny someone that.” The fighter closed his eyes, breathing a sigh through his nose.

“Having said that, it’s still a hierarchy. There’s still levels because people are at different levels. Now obviously, you’re more skilled than me when it comes to grappling. Shit, you’re a second degree black belt. You’ve trained some of the best fighters in the history of the sport and I have a lot of respect for what you’ve done. But you’re not above me in this gym. Elias might be one of your best friends, but he is not a fan of nepotism. I’ve been here since I was seventeen Even.”

Isak paused to lock eyes onto the other man before continuing.

“And I’ve been fighting out of and for this gym since I was nineteen. Am I young? Yes. But I’ve been here for over four years. You’ve been here for less than four months. So when my students see you challenging me? Not fucking around, but actually subverting the authority I’ve built in this gym? It’s a problem. It disrupts things. And no, this isn’t some toxic masculinity or pride bullshit. This is about respect and integrity for how Bred Akse functions as an organization. That’s the key to this gym Even. If you keep insisting on ignoring that, you’re not gonna stick around very long.”

The older martial artist stepped closer to Isak. Even quickly spat out a response, his mouth moving faster that his brain.

“The nepotism thing, it goes for coach Schistad as well?”

Isak appeared to have been turned to stone, his brain shorting out at the terrifying revelation.

All he could finally get out was a near whispered, “You….saw us?”

Even scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the younger while shaking his head. This idiot thinks I’d out him?

“Relax, I’m not gonna out your or anything. Fuck, you think you’re the only closeted fighter I’ve met? No Isak, I wouldn’t do that to you. I was hoping to be friends, but if you want me to slot myself into the bottom wrung of the ladder and earn my way up, I can understand that. All I ask is that we remain civil enough with each other to teach.”

Even’s words having abated some of Isak’s fear, he swallowed, clearing his throat whilst he nodded.

“I can do that.”

Even nodded concurrently before giving Isak a few parting words, keeping his voice low.

“And by the way, whenever your decide to come out, this whole gym is behind you Isak. Maybe you can’t see that, but I can. You have a family here, regardless of all the hierarchy stuff. There’s times I would’ve killed to have what you have here kid. So just….”, A heavy sigh passed through Even’s lips. “Just be careful. Getting involved with a teammate or coach…..it can get complicated.”

With that last word of advice the older man gave Isak a stiff, but cordial pat on the shoulder, collecting his own belongings and exiting the gym. The younger man stood still, mind still trying to process what had just happened. Even knows Isak. He fucking knows. And he’s right about Chris, the best scenario is you both get hurt and one of you leaves the gym. Shaking his head, Isak imagined his hair to be wet and the water droplets to be his unwanted thoughts. As the last one had been flung from his mind, he gathered his bag from where he’d dropped it to the floor, and quickly left Bred Akse MMA Gym.

Stuff for the fic

Hayabusa - A combat sports gear and equipment company. They sponsor a huge number of fighters and have a distinctive logo that makes their merch pretty recognizable.

https://mymmanews.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/New_Hayabusa_Logo.jpg

 
Jujutsu - A Japanese martial art which was originally designed to be used on the battlefield if a soldier lost his sword or only had a smaller weapon such as a knife. The focus was to kill each your enemy as quickly as possible if you ended up on the ground. Jujutsu is also the parent martial art to Judo.

Jujutsu Kanji -https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9f/a5/89/9fa589de07a18d8ca0bc2cc75cd49e55.gif

Ne-Waza - The ground fighting aspect of Judo.

Even’s butterfly guard sweep - https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=H9IgqnhURCs

 This actually isn't the exact technique Even uses, but it's very close.

 Isak's arm triangle aka Kata Gatame - https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=AU89pfGPnKI

 The arm triangle technique being used is actually more apt for mma, but Isak's students are at a high enough level that they can translate the more traditional setups into what will work best for the sport.

 
Muay Thai Thighs - Muay Thai fighters are known for their heavy leg conditioning as leg kicks are a commonly used technique in the sport.

 
Also, here's a quick breakdown of everyone's ages. Isak and his friends are a couple years older than they would actually be now. Pretty much everyone above Isak’s grade in the show is about a decade or so older than him for the sake of the storyline.

Isak - 21
Magnus - 20
Jonas - 20
Mahdi - 21
Noora - 30
William - 31
PChris - 31
Eva - 21
Eskild - 33
Even - 31
Vilde - 21
Sana (because of the plot) - 24
Adam - 31
Olmeive - 20
Elias - 31
Emma - 20
Sonja - 31
Mikael - 31
Yousef - 30
Iben - 30
Mutta - 30
Chris Berg - 21
Linn - 33

By the way I'm doing my best to find videos that are at least under 3 minutes; I'm not trying to take up ya'lls time hahah.

Chapter Text

3 Weeks Later 

Ekeberghallen Sports Arena

Nordstrand, Oslo

November 3rd, 2018

23:41

Olmeive recovered from the take down attempt quickly, but his opponent had snuck his arms underneath his own, locking his hands behind his back and driving him back towards the fence. Having a lower level of gravity than the taller man, the challenger was able to reverse the positions just as their bodies slammed into the cage. The fighter drove his head underneath the chin of his opponent, having pinned his right hand to the fence when they crashed into it. Kolumalu now had a single underhook on Olmeive. His left arm wrapped under the shorter fighters right while the other man’s right was secured around his neck, keeping his head in position, making it more difficult to try and throw a punch or elbow.

Olmeive could feel the shifting weight of his opponent; he was going to abandon the underhook he had with his left hand, duck his head down and try to shuffle out to the left. Now he just had to time the taller man. As soon as Olm felt Kolumalu’s left hand go slack, he immediately dropped his head down to his chest, pushing off the right hand he previously had pinned to the fence and swiftly bringing it up to block his face. Having been proven correct as he felt the air from the larger man’s punch wiz by his head, Olmeive angled to his left side, countering with a short, but brutal left hook of his own.

Kolumalu was wobbled. Olmeive saw the glaze in his opponents eyes. This belt’s mine. As the shorter man prepared to throw a right uppercut to the body, the loud screech of the buzzer signaled the end of the first found. The challenger cursed internally. A few more seconds and he could’ve gotten the finish. The man casually walked back to his corner of the decagon, sitting on his stool as Elias pulled his mouth guard out for him and his corner men began giving him advice, starting with Magnus.

“Olm, you need to stop trying to fake your sprawl when he fakes to go for a take down. Just drop your hips down and keep your elbows parallel with each other.”

Chris nodded along with Magnus before dispensing his advice for the young fighter.

“Killer left hand buddy! But I want you striking off his take down fakes ok? When he’s coming back up, his head is dipping to the right, so think about that step in knee ok? You can win this title standing if you want to man.” Chris then looked to Elias, “You got anything Eli B.?” The boxing coach smiled at his friend, but shook his head, continuing to rub out Olmeive’s arms that were currently placed over his shoulders. The buzzer for the second round echoed through out the hanger like arena, signaling the continuation of the contest.

The referee looked across to Kolumalu, loudly asking, “Round two, sir are you ready?” A solid nod was the champion’s response. The ref then looked over to Olmeive, repeating the question, the other man gave the official a goofy grin, his eyes scrunching up as he did so. Exclaiming a loud, ‘Fight!’, the ref commenced the second round.

The first couple minutes saw a significantly more timid Kolumalu. This was to be expected from him after having gotten rocked in the first round. The pair traded leg kicks and jabs, mostly measuring distance for heavier shots. As Kolumalu faked a kick with his back leg, Olmeive moved his hands to block the shot, knowing how powerful the older man’s kicks could be. The instant the champion saw his opponents hands begin to move to the left side of face however, he pivoted off his left leg, smashing a heavily calloused shin into the flat of Olm’s ribs.

Luckily for Olmeive he was moving away from the strike and able to absorb it fairly easily. Before Kolumalu could even put his foot back to the canvas though, his challenger had fired a lighting fast left front kick into his lower right midsection, the ball of his foot stabbing into the other’s body and liver. A delayed grimace appeared on the taller fighter’s face. Olmeive bit down on his mouthpiece, feinting a jab to the other man’s already injured body before shifting his feet and throwing and angled uppercut across the curve of his opponents jaw. The strike dropped the already low hands of his fellow fighter and had his back bouncing off the cage.

As Olmeive was setting up to throw a follow up left hand, the referee flew in between the two combatants, waving the fight off, giving the almost official title holder the justification to run to the other side of the cage and climb it. Sitting astride the padded foam cover, Olmeive let out a primal roar, an echo of ancestral DNA. After emptying his lungs of air, the fighter hopped down from the cage. Walking over to his freshly defeated opponent, the yet to be crowned champion dropped onto his knees in front of his colleagues stool, his still gloved hands held together in reverence. As he got up, he leaned into Kolumalu, thanking him for still taking the fight and telling him he hoped to have a rematch in the future. Only this time with both fighters having full training camps and training for each other only.

From the his seat on the floor, Isak was ecstatic for his friend and teammate. Olmeive noticed the boy and smiled, waving to him. The referee brought both mixed martial artists to the center of the decagon, waiting for the announcer to introduce the new NFC Lightweight Champion. Once the crowd had settled a bit an echoing, heavy yet tinny voice accounted the results.

“Ladies and gentlemen, referee Ognjen Topic has called a stop to this title fight at three minutes and thirty-two seconds into the second round. For your winner via T.K.O…….And new, NFC Lightweight Champion of the world, Olmeive ‘Sleepy Hollow’ Deichtner!” A resounding cheer reverberated throughout the relatively small arena. Isak slowly jogged to the raised platform of the cage, an official noticing him and stepping aside so the young man could enter the decagon. One of the benefits of training at a well known local gym.

The blonde featherweight arrived just in time to hoist the new champion up along with his coaches. Setting the lightweight champ back to his feet, Isak, Elias, Chris and Magnus noticed William Magnusson coming up behind Olmeive, clapping the younger man on his shoulder. Turning around, Olm saw that William was holding the belt, now his belt, and immediately gave him a crushing hug. Magnusson laughed at the fighter’s giddiness, motioning him to turn around and then strapping the title around his waist.

As Olmeive and his team were snapping victory pictures, Magnusson solicited a couple mics from a tech assistant. Calling him back over, William put his left arm around the new champ, handing him another microphone.

“Olmeive, that was insane man. You have anything you want to say, maybe even a call out?” The fighter broke into a huge grin.

“Thank you to my team you guys are fucking incredible. Bred Akse is the best gym in Oslo everyone make no mistake. Um, to my opponent, Leon Kolumalu. You know he didn’t have to take this fight, he’s been training for a different guy for over six weeks, so respect to him for going through with it.” Olmeive now exhibited a narrowing of his eyes before continuing.

“But you know boss, I wouldn’t have even had to be here if Geiranger actually came through. I mean, if I choked out everyone that ever offended me I’d be locked up for a very long time.” A swath of rolling laughs flowed over the crowd. “Which is why I’m calling out Friedrik Geiranger. This could’ve been your belt man, if you could learn to act like an adult. But shit, let’s do it. If you’re that easy to piss off I’m gonna make some quick money. What do you guys think? Geiranger for my first title defense?”

A roaring response from the crowd gave Olmeive his answer. But before any title defenses, a celebration was in order.

00:33

The heavy bass of “Above The Clouds”, by Gang Starr blanketed the air. The sound waves rode on top of and through the haze of weed smoke. Isak was making his way into the kitchen, brushing past the lateral heat of bodies moving in time with the warm, fuzzy beats of Guru and DJ Premier. Reaching into the fridge and snagging a bottle, the boy turned around and jumped slightly. Olmeive was a few inches from Isak, already three shots and four beers deep. Isak embraced his friend, the less intoxicated man taking on a significant portion of Olm’s weight.

Once they broke apart Isak had a large smile adorning his face. “Dude! You’re the lightweight champion, that’s so fucking awesome!”

The title holder nodded his head before responding. “I know bro! But Isak, check it out, that’s not even the coolest thing!”

Raising his eyebrows, he nodded for his friend to continue.

“That combo we drilled? I won the fight with it man! Well, I did backwards actually, check it out!”

The younger man clumsily extracted his phone from his front pocket, opening it and scrolling to a video a friend had sent him of the ending sequence of the fight. Isak studied the figures on the screen, observing their movement. As he cross referenced the combination on Olm’s phone with the one in his head, he looked to the other man. A proud smile stretched out on Isak’s face. He put a hand on his friends shoulder. The tired muscles beneath the champion’s shirt felt like corded steel wrapped in smooth silicone beneath Isak’s fingers. As he saw the martial artist’s shoulders and neck from his periphery, Isak found himself especially drawn to the light, rust colored scruff on Olmeive’s face and neck.

He hadn’t really noticed it till right now, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about. After snapping a pic with the new lightweight champion for his Instagram, Isak returned to the living room of his shared apartment. He stood just apart from the competing groups playing beer pong. The young man’s eyes were focused on the game, but his brain was entertaining other thoughts. Olmeive was featured heavily in some of the thoughts, something that seemed to happen after Isak got a buzz going.

It was like an itch he knew he’d never be able to scratch. There were flashes of that russet, week old beard. Flashes of it pressing into his neck. Of it trailing along his chest and abs. Of it meshing with the trail of soft, blonde hair Isak had growing down from around his navel. Of that contrasting soft scrape of facial hair against the smooth, paleness of his thighs. Isak actually felt his body shiver the tiniest bit after that thought. You need to chill dude. Isak agreed with his internal voice’s assessment and made his way out of the room and up the stairs. When he got to the upstairs bathroom, he opened the door to a nostalgic site.

Mahdi and Magnus sat in a rather spacious tub at the opposite side of the sink. As he looked close, Isak noticed what appeared to be a third person. A pang of sadness struck and passed Isak within seconds. Celebrate and get fucked up now. Worry about other shit later. Opening the door all the way revealed someone who Isak was at best indifferent to spending time with. Even Bech Naesheim had his head of styled, antigravity hair resting back against the wall the bathtub was placed against. An open, attentive grin was on his face as Magnus told him a fantastical story about the first time him and Vilde tried BDSM. Mahdi appeared to be as disinterested as Even was invested. Isak told himself he didn’t want to interrupt Magnus, but he couldn’t help his eyes straying to Even’s mouth. Light reflecting off the thin coating of saliva on the older ’s lips.

Magnus paused when he saw Isak in the doorway.

“Dude, you’re letting the smoke out!”

Isak apologized as he turned around to close the bathroom door, taking a seat on the closed lid of the toilet next to the tub. Turning to the three men, he greeted Mahdi first.

“Yo Mahd Man! Sorry bout that MCL dude.” The out of commission grappler’s gave a non-committal shrug.

“It’s not too bad. Getting to catch up on Westworld and some Netflix shows.”

“Nice. Well no spoilers, I just finished the first season of Westworld.”

“Oh bro, you’re in for a treat.”

“Isak!”

All three heads turned to look at Magnus as he spoke to the other boy.

“Olm reversed that combo you guys drilled to win the fight!”

Isak let a small smile break across his lips as he acknowledged Magnus enthused statement.

Even locked eyes with his co-instructor, flicking ashes from the joint into a small metal waste basket beside the toilet.

“Why don’t you have a seat? This bathtub’s kind of ridiculously big.”

Although he still had his reservations about the man Isak accepted the offer.

Maybe this is his way of putting me at ease….

Squatting into the space beside the older Jujitsuka, Isak threw his legs over the edge of the bathtub, accepting the offered joint from Even and taking a heavy pull of the smoke into his lungs.

“Me and Mahdi were just reminiscing about the Pride days.”

“Isak, did you know Even met Sakuraba?”, Mahdi asked his friend, impressed excitement clear on his face.

Isak’s own face was molded more into a look of intrigue.

“Is that so?”

Even smiled back at the younger man, his eyes bright as they compressed into slits.

“It was mainly him tossing my scrawny fifteen your old ass around the mat, but it was pretty awesome! He’s a super nice guy, spotted me some cash for a cup of noodles actually.”

Isak stifled a laugh in his throat. He couldn’t help his response.

“So, getting tossed around by older Japanese dudes really gets you going huh Ne-Waza nerd?”

Even fixed his younger gym mate with a cocky grin.

“I suppose it just depends on the dude. They don’t necessarily have to be Japanese.”

He paused, making a barely noticed flick of his eyes to Isak’s lips and then back to his eyes.

“Or older.”

Wow Even. Really not taking your own advice are you?

Isak suddenly felt too close to Even. The mild warmth of his leg, side and arm pressing against him now feeling like a burning reminder of how attractive Even was and, more importantly, Isak’s growing level of intoxication. He decided he’d take one more hit of the joint to achieve his ideal crossbuzz and then remove himself from the tub. The alcohol had given him a bit of courage, maybe the weed could give me some perspective.

After releasing the smoke from his mouth in little circles, Isak bid his farewell to his friends and Even. He had another, more important matter to attend to.

00:47

Chris was leaning against the arm of the couch, chatting with Emma and what Isak could’ve sworn was his ex girlfriend Iben. Wasn’t she in Stavanger? The thought drifted from the blonde’s head as he approached Chris, catching the last of his conversation with the two. Iben appeared to be talking about something that had happened a while back, but seemed to still be affecting her in some way.

“- a while, I mean the fact that he kept that from me was pretty harmful to our relationship you know? But, I think we’re really in a better place now. Totally honest, learning to actually talk to each other. Listen, not just hear.”

Emma and Chris nodded at the brunette at the same time Isak cleared his throat, getting the trio’s, unfortunately including Emma, attention. The kickboxing coach looked at his fighter, reading his eyes and face and quickly, but politely sending the girls away.

“I’m really glad to hear you guys are doing better Iben. If you’ll excuse me for a second, I think Isak needs to talk to me.”

The sentence was said as a statement, but Isak saw the question in Chris’s eyes. He followed the older man out of the common room and down the hall to his room. Isak’s heart rate instantly picked up. His mind racing with nervous yet excited thoughts. He didn’t know what Chris expected of him, if anything. And he wasn’t sure what he expected from himself either really. Which is why both men were surprised when as soon as the brown haired coach closed his bedroom door and turned around, Isak launched himself at the man.

His lips missed their mark a bit, landing on the corner of Chris’s mouth rather than flush on his lips. Isak rectified this quickly however, now pressing his lips fully to the other man’s. The lack of initial response nearly threw the blonde into a panic attack. Just as he was about to leap away from him and profusely apologize, Chris responded, perfecting matching Isak’s frenetic, nervous arousal with the wisdom of someone who’d been here many times before. Their lips moved together slowly, separating and rejoining like a lazy tide on a moon lit beach. Feeling a sudden bravery, Isak cautiously pushed a hand up the older man’s shirt and began to run his hand up and down the well defined muscles.

Chris chose this instance to break away from the young fighter, causing a shameful look to cross Isak’s face. The coach looked at his fighter quizzically, bringing a hand up to Isak’s neck.

“Hey, it’s okay alright? Just relax. To be honest I thought we were just gonna talk, but I like your idea better.”

Isak brought his eyes up, his mouth slowing mirroring a smaller version of the smile Chris was giving him.

“Guess I got a bit carried away.”, he shrugged shyly.

“Nah, it’s cool. I mean, I totally I get it.”

Isak smiled wider now and moved away from the brunette.

“Man, your humility. You’re giving the Dalai Llama a run for it ya know?”

Chris raised his hands, feigning confusion.

“Can’t seem to help it.”

The boys smiled at each other, a comfortable silence blanketing the room before Isak spoke again.

“What did you want to talk about?”

Chris’s eyes became more serious. He sat down on the edge of his bed, motioning for Isak to do the same.

“Listen, I don’t want to freak you out or make you think that you have to make a decision or something ok? But, if it’s at all possible, I’d like to know what we are to you.”

A rare flash of nervousness now showed on Chris’s face, surprising Isak.

The blonde thought about the question. He supposed he’d always had a bit of a crush on Chris. Even when he was seventeen Isak knew he found the older man attractive. Although he’d only recently begun admitting it to himself. Did he have feelings for Chris? Feelings like Eva has for Jonas? Or that William has for Noora? Don’t trick yourself Isak. He’s the first attractive man to openly express interest in you. You’re not in love, you’re in shock. Most of the time, Isak brushed off his internal voice. Always criticizing and over analyzing. Breaking everything down into it’s nuclei and electrons, if only to avoid having to experience a confusing or uncomfortable feeling. After a heavy swallow, Isak responded.

“Chris, when I first met you, I hated that I liked you. You were like a step brother I didn’t want to get to know, but the more I did, the more I realized how good of a person you actually are.” Isak paused, dragging his gaze up from his lap to meet his coach’s eyes.

“I do like you. Maybe not to the same way you like me, but in another time and place,” the fighter shrugged and nodded his head, ”I could see us together. And to be clear I’m not saying that we can’t be together. Not at all. But for as much as you know about me, you don’t know everything Chris. There are parts of my past that I….haven’t even confronted yet. And don’t be fooled, just because I’m aware of that doesn’t mean I’m anywhere close to fixing it.”

A heavy sigh broke free from Isak’s lungs. Go easy Isak. It’s not fair, but it’s what’s best for both of you.

“You are an incredible person Chris. You’re smart, you’re funny, you have a great rapport with your fighters. You’re a good man. And you’re a good coach. But I can’t do this. Can’t do us. Not, not right now. I mean, you and Even are literally the only ones who know.”

“That you’re gay you mean?”

Isak’s head jerked backwards.

“No. I mean, OK, sort of I guess, but like you know, I’m still a dude.”

Chris wasn’t sure if he should be more bewildered or concerned by Isak’s statement.

“You know gay guys are still dudes right?”

Isak frustratingly rolled his eyes.

“Of course. I’m just saying I’m not like Eskild or whatever. And don’t get me wrong, I love Eskild. But that’s just…..not me.”

Chris would be lying to himself if he said the rejection didn’t hurt. It was partially expected, but having now heard Isak’s feelings on his own situation, he put his feelings on the back burner.

“Hmm. You know Isak, Eskild actually told me something pretty interesting once. We were having a discussion about how big a part of someone’s life their sexuality really needs to be. And we both came to the same conclusion. People are unique. For Eskild, the culture his sexuality is usually associated with is more of a part of who he his. He identifies with it. But it doesn’t define him anymore than the color of his hair or…..how tall he is. You can’t hinge an entire identity on something you have no control over Isak. Someone who does that is doing a complete disservice to themselves. Because they’re not allowing themselves to actually go beyond all the things that only define them because they had no say in it.”

The coach turned to his fighter, bringing a hand up to his neck.

“It varies for everyone Isak. But for some people, it’s a little more of who they are. And for others,” Chris’s eyes strayed off, landing on Isak’s left shoulder, “It’s a little more of….what they are. Neither is right or wrong, they’re just different. And thank you, for being honest by the way.” He gave Isak a wide, signature Chris Schistad grin.

“And don’t think I’m counting you out Valtersen. Maybe you’re not ready right now, but you’ll come around.”

Isak didn’t even try to stave off the smile that broke across his face. A full fledged one, slightly gapped teeth and all. Maybe I don’t feel the same way, but this is why I like him. The two men stood and walked to the door, ready to go back to the party and face whatever ribbing they’d likely be in for. He’s right. It doesn’t have to be all of who you are Isak. Not if you don’t want if to be. Isak exited the bedroom with a new outlook and a careful hand on the door of his own closet, not ready to turn the knob yet, but slowly warming to the idea.

Stuff for the fic 

1. Ognjen Topic - A Yugoslavian born Muay Thai fighter and kickboxer who competes for the Friday Night Fights promotion at 155 lbs, 70.3 kgs. 

2. "Sleepy Hollow" is a nod to Olmeive’s German heritage as the headless horseman in the story was a Hessian aka a German mercenary 

3. Above the clouds - https://youtube.com/watch?v=Ucvta7xDo_4

4. Jujitsuka - A practitioner of Jiu-jitsu. Also used informally in reference to Jujutsu which is sometimes called  Japanese Jiu-jitsu.

5. Pride Fighting  Championships - A Japanese mma promotion that was active between 1997 and 2007. Pride hosted some of the most memorable fights in the history of the sport. It, along with the early UFC and other organizations, brought up the fighters who are now considered to be the first generation of mixed martial artists. 

6. Sakuraba – Kazushi Sakuraba is one of the most famous and important mixed martial artists of all time. He is best known for defeating four members of the Gracie jiu-jitsu family; Royler, Renzo, Ryan, and Royce. He is currently signed to the Rizin promotion, but I believe his contact has been frozen due to inactivity. In April of this year he started a submission grappling tournament entitled Quintet which is streamed on the UFC’s Fight Pass app.

Chapter Text

Mandag

November 5th, 2018

11:32

The office was reasonably spacious. A small bookcase was saddled against the right wall boasting the works of Bruce Lee, Jung, Griffith and Schulte among others. Across from the bookcase sat two comfortably firm, vinyl upholstered chairs, pitched just off center to each other. The walls were a soft, muted lime. The lacquer finished, oak desk at the back middle of the room gave a warmth to the space, the wood establishing a kind of character about the whole area.

Isak felt none of this. He was only here at Chris’s request and Elias’s well meaning yet aggressive urging. He didn’t want to be here, but he could understand why his coach’s might want him to be. The young mixed martial artist had won his last fight, but he’d been tentative the whole way through. He’d almost gotten stopped in the first round and the second he was essentially just closing distance to try to limit his opponents striking ability. Once he’d clenched or gotten him to the ground however, he wasn’t able to do anything. A referee standing the fighters up two times in one round? Not a good look for the judges.

If Isak hadn’t secured that triangle choke late in the third, the bout would’ve almost assuredly been scored as a split decision win for his fellow competitor. And although it may make the blonde boy a bit humiliated to admit it, the judges would’ve been right. And the reason he’d even gotten the submission in the first place wasn’t because his opponent fell into a trap he set. No, it was because he got over excited and made a mistake. Sure, Isak did a phenomenal job at capitalizing on that mistake, but the fact remains. If the error wasn’t made he would’ve taken a regrettably fair decision loss, the first judge decided defeat of his amateur or professional career. Isak was nearly as uncomfortable with that as he was with possibility of being outed.

Which was why he was currently staring at a woman in her mid twenties wearing a dark maroon hijab, lightly applied ruby lipstick, blush and eyeshadow complimenting her olive skin. A pair of singed tree bark eyes bore into Isak with a coaxing look. Isak’s own phthalo green meeting her’s with a look that said `I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t even want to be here.’ The woman cleared her throat, writing something on the notepad she was holding before setting it down on the small black table in between her and Isak. She picked up the tablet sitting on the table and began tapping and swiping on it. Isak let out what he hoped came across as a dissatisfied scoff.

What Sana Bakkoush, B.S. Psychology degree holder, SiO sports psychology residency member and PhD undergrad heard, was the nasal complaining of a petulant child in a newly adult body. Mocking Isak with her own over exaggerated scoff and pairing it with a duck faced pout seemed to get the young man’s attention.

“I don’t sound like that!” Sana gave her new client a wide smile.

“Well, I wouldn’t know would I? It’s literally the first noise you’ve made since you walked in here. Now, we can try to communicate with one another in bratty harrumph language, or we can speak like adults. I get credit towards my PhD either way, so if you wanna brat it up go ahead.”

This solicited a groan from the younger Norwegian. He looked at Sana through his eyelashes, a defiant expression on his face.

“I didn’t even want to be here you know. Chris and Elias pretty much made me come. There’s probably people with real problems who need to talk to you.”

Sana shifted her eyes back down to the tablet, arranging her schedule for next week.

“At least stay till 12:15 so I can get my credit.”

“What the hell kind of sports psychologist are you?”

The Muslim woman smiled up at Isak.

“A pretty damn good one if I’m allowed to do my job.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need you to do your job for me ok?”

She shrugged, the members on her A Tribe Called Quest t-shirt now leveling Isak with a half dozen equally unimpressed eyes of their own.

“That seven stitch scar on the left side of your nose seems to be telling me different.”

Daaaaamn! She got you on that one Isak. The fighter narrowed his eyes, his mouth stretching into a thin line.

“What do you even know about mma?”

“Well in case you haven’t put it together yet, my brother runs one of the most popular mixed martial arts gyms in Oslo.”

Isak weighed his options. He could either sit here until 12:15, which would be another half hour, in uncomfortable silence or he could at least try to make conversation with Elias’s younger sister. The silence was too loud in his ears, so Isak chose the latter option.

“So um, you graduated from UiO?”

Sana popped her head up again, this time closing the tablet and setting it on the table between the two. She flashed her, hopefully, new client a bright smile and began speaking.

“Yes, I did. I graduated with a B.S. in Psychology with a focus on behavioral disorders in relation to athletic performance. It’s not a full on sports psychology degree, but I think it actually allows me to look at things from a different perspective.”

Isak looked mildly perplexed. His mouth opened before his brain could sign off on his words.

“So……you study how mentally ill people play sports?”

The boy asked the question in what he hoped was a genuinely interested way. The older woman’s eyebrows raised, her matte crimson lips molding into an affirming pout as she slowly nodded.

“I can’t say I’ve ever heard it put quite that plainly, but I suppose that is essentially what my profession is.”

“If you only treat mentally ill athletes, why am I here?”

“Well, you are here. So I guess I don’t only treat mentally ill athletes hmm?”

Isak felt his cheeks warming. This wasn’t the same embarrassment of Even sweeping him in front of his whole class the other day, but it was embarrassing none the less. A kind of intellectual agitation that Isak wasn’t very used to being on the business end of.

Note to self, engage in battles of logic as little as possible with this lady.

“So, like, what could you do for me anyways?”

He was expecting an exhaustive lists of techniques and mindfulness practices to make him a better, more aware individual thereby making him a better, more aware fighter. But that’s not what happened.

“Nothing if I don’t know what you want.”

Fuck it. What’s fifteen minutes? It’s not like she can share anything you tell her, she’s under a confidentiality clause.

“The UFC Featherweight Championship belt.”

“Lofty goals, and certainly something to aspire to. So, what’s possible right now.”

“The Norske Fighting Championships featherweight title.”

“Let’s focus on that then.”

Isak and Sana spent the next thirteen minutes discussing the young fighter’s mentality in regards to his training and performance. They weren’t going into the depths of Isak’s ego or unpacking any emotional baggage, but it was a good conversation. There was no way for him to tell, but the psychologist was silently observing things about the martial artist and filing them away. If he really did want to participate in one of Sana’s treatment plans, she already had ideas about how to help the boy. Whether or not Isak would be receptive to them was another story.

12:18

Sana and Isak were stood in the doorway of her office, finishing up what the woman thought was a good, baseline conversation.

“Well, you have my schedule and the number of the office is on the card. Since I’m participating in an academic residency which adds credit towards my PhD, I’m not making any money. This means that this service is also free, Isak. If you’re dead set on not coming back, that’s fine, but you don’t really have anything to lose.”

“I’ll think about it.”, was Isak’s stoic response. However, it was also one of the few times in his entire life he’d said that and actually meant it.

The blonde thanked Sana for the session and threw a smile to the hipster-ish boy behind the reception counter before exiting the building. Isak immediately checked his phone, scrolling to his messages and becoming disconcerted with what he saw.

Dad: Hello Isak.

I’m sorry it’s been so long since we spoke.

Congratulations on winning your last fight by the way.

I understand if you can’t or don’t want to, But I’d like it if you could stop by the new house for a visit.

Mama misses you.

So do I.

What the fuck does he think he he’s doing? Ghosting your own kid for over a year and then requesting they come and see you? Isak’s thumb was poised above the phone’s on screen keyboard, ready to strike out a message of justified rage. However, he thought back to what Sana had told him. ‘Before you do something, ask yourself, will doing this cause me more problems or help me make more solutions.’ It was an unsatisfying conclusion, but the fighter knew responding emotionally would only translate into him feeling worse ultimately. He chose to assess the situation later and placed the phone back in his pocket.

The thing hadn’t spent more than a few seconds in his sweatpants when Isak heard a distinctive beat and the famous lyrics that went along with it. That ring tone was set aside for only one person on his contact list.

Don’t ever compare

Me to the rest that’ll all get sliced and diced

Competition’s payin’ the price

I’m gonna knock you out

Mama said knock you out

The rolling smoothness of L.L. Cool Jay’s rhyming was cut off as he slid the answer marker on his iPhone to the right.

“Is this my favorite manager?” An exuberant female voice answered back.

“Little Viking if you’ve got some manager side piece I will knock you out. Mama doesn’t even have to say so.”

Thankful for the timely reprieve from far more stressful matters, Isak titled his head back and laughed.

“So what’s up? I mean, unless you just called to talk, I am pretty cool after all.”

A faux, sarcastically dismissive exhalation crackled back on the phone into the boy’s ear.

“We both know I’m the master of coolness. Anyways, that’s not what I called you about. I know it’s a bit soon to start looking for an opponent, only being a couple weeks after your last fight, buuuuut…..”

Isak waited for his manager to respond, left eyebrow making friends with his forehead. His left hand was making circular motions horizontally, his finger pointed out. He knew girl Chris couldn’t see him, but for whatever reason it helped ease the tension.

“I can get you a fight on the New Year’s card. I can’t promise it’ll be the main card, but I’m working on that as well.”

Isak’s eyebrows were now both making friends with his forehead, shaking hands even.

“Are you serious!? Dude, that would be so fucking awesome!”

A retired couple strolled by the ecstatic young athlete, shooting him a look of disapproval. Isak wasn’t even aware they were there. A bubbling, radiating laugh flowed into Isak’s ear.

“I am one hundred percent serious bro. Now I’m not gonna lie, it would be an upper echelon opponent. Apparently, some people think you pulled that last win off by the skin of your teeth. But, Eskild doesn’t see it that way, and I’m guessing that means William doesn’t either. This is a big opportunity Isak. I know we’ve been steadily chugging along the title shot train tracks this past year and this is the first step to making it pay off.”

The excited man now brought himself back down to the earthly realm. He put together what Chris was saying and had only one question.

“If I win my next fight, am I gonna get a title shot?”

“Hmm, I don’t know about after this one, but it’s absolutely gonna put you in the conversation Isak. Listen, I have to go pick up my aunt from the airport, but I’ll call you later this week.”

“That’s works great. Or, if you want, you can come into the gym. I’ll be free during the day Wednesday.”

The manager responded saying that would be doable as well.

“Awesome. Hey, you know I probably don’t say it enough, but you’re not just a good manager Chris, you’re a good friend as well.”

The younger woman made a cooing ‘aww’ before replying.

“That’s beautiful Isak, really. You know I love when you get all soft on me. Just don’t do it in the cage. Always hard in the cage.”

The tall blonde couldn’t contain the eruption of giggles that poured out of him. Finally catching his breath he affirmed his manager’s words.

“Always hard in the cage, of course boss.”

Chris playfully scolded Isak for referring to her as such before the two friends said their goodbyes and Isak returned his phone to his front pocket.

Fuck yes! I’ve got a fight on the biggest card of the year!

13:26

Beads of sweat were congregating around Even’s hairline and the back of his neck. His ears glowing like two beacons in a snowstorm. You see, over the years, he’d come to realize and classify different types of sweat. Exercise sweat, grappling sweat, over training sweat, running sweat, sex sweat, and just plain old ‘fuck, it’s hot out’ sweat. This was none of those. No, this was a classic case of nerve sweats. The creative director felt like he was back in grade school giving an oral report on a book he’d barely even thumbed through. And he was actually very well versed in the subject this time.

He cleared his throat, hoping that would somehow get the three other members of the marketing campaign to give their feedback quicker. Perhaps Even should’ve hoped for something else. A tall, lithe blonde woman in her early forties was the first to speak.

“I get what you’re going for Even, but I don’t know if we have the resources for this. Even with access to your friend’s gym. And keep in mind, he has to be paid as well.”

The creative director’s gaze moved to another member of their group, the only one who was older than all of them. He turned his hands up at Even, making a small shake with his head indicating he had nothing to add.

Awesome input old man. Yeah, it totally makes sense that you’ve been working here longer than all of us and have nothing to say.

Even’s now semi defeated eyes settled on the last person in the four member team, silently pleading to at least give some constructive, useful feedback. A confused smile showed over the young man’s face.

“Really leaning heavy into that whole rainbow marketing thing buddy. Which is totally cool, but I don’t think most mma fighters care about diversity in the ad of a product they're buying.”

Even collapsed back into the office chair he’d stood from a few minutes and sighed irritably.

They’re all missing the point!

“Well, Aleks, it’s actually not about the diversity in the ad, it’s about the diversity in the sport. Mixed Martial Arts is one of the most racially and ethnically diverse sports in the world outside of the Olympics. I thought it would be nice to highlight that.”

The younger man gave a non-committal raise of his shoulders.

“I can definitely believe that. But we live in Norway Even, and while I think it’s awesome you have a diverse group of friends and all, most of our customer base is still going to be white.”

Even had actually anticipated this response. It wasn’t an entirely bad one either, made sense, but maybe the kind of sense that actually ended up limiting their draw in the market. He smiled warmly at his teammate before replying.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. We already know how to market to ethnically white Norwegians. Granted we’ll be coming up with strategies to attract combat athletes, but, hey, why not get ahead of the curve now?”

Aleks ’s eyes narrowed just a tad a he sat back in his own chair, putting his hands behind his head.

“Now that you explain it like that, it’s easier to see what you’re going for. Still, we have to be careful not push our focus too much into the race, ethnicity, gender, whatever of the fighters in the campaign. Not to say it shouldn’t be something to use, but we can’t put all our eggs in one basket.”

Anja nodded along with the brunettes statement.

“I think it’s definitely something we could highlight, like you said Even. A down an out person of color using wrestling or boxing or mma or whatever it might be to elevate themselves? It’s a classic story, but it still works.”

Even brought his bottom lip into between his teeth, chewing softly at it. A nervous tic he’d had since childhood.

Yeah, it still works and it’s still cliché as fuck.

He restrained himself from letting this slip out, his brain graciously providing a better, more office friendly version of the words.

“It is definitely a classic story Anja, but I worry that it might be too classic. When fighting is the only way out of your situation? Well, I absolutely respect that, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s what the person wanted to do. What it means is that they’re good at it. Good enough to effect change in their own life. And I’m not diminishing that at all I just….” He trailed off, not able to complete his thought.

A gruff, elder voice picked up where Even left off.

“It’s sometimes more interesting if someone does something because they want to, because they love it, than if they just happen to be good at it and it’s their only option. A choice is, at times, more passionate than a necessity.”

The room was momentarily stunned to silence, Even in particular. The old man had said exactly what he was trying to, only far better than he would’ve been able to. Their senior coworker looked at them with questioning eyes.

“What? You guys act like I don’t speak or something.”

The blonde martial artist was reminded of the Ents in the Lord of the Rings films.

You must understand, young Even, it takes a long time to say anything in this damn office. And I never say anything unless it’s worth taking a long time to say.

Even smiled gleefully at the old man.

“Hapfthor, that is definitely what I was trying to say.”

A loud ping resonated throughout the small conference room the employees were meeting in, signaling the end of their allotted time to discuss the campaign.

Damn, I wanted to hear what else Hapfthor had to say.

Even clapped his hands together, getting everyone’s attention.

“Ok everybody, I think we got some good ideas going today, so everyone cool with meeting next week at the same time?”

A trio of confirming responses could be heard around the room. Even smiled.

“Awesome I’ll see you guys then!”

As he was filing out of the room, Even’s phone vibrated in the pocket of his skinny jeans, informing him of a text Extracting the device from it’s denim prison, he felt a slight relief at seeing Mikael’s name on the lock screen. He unlocked the phone and brought up the text.

Mikael: Hey dude, you got some mail today

One letter looks pretty….serious

I didn’t open it or anything though

The man’s eyebrows drew together as he texted back.

You: What kind of serious are we talking about?

Mikael: The kind that involves lawyers.

He closed his eyes and took a long, slow, deep breath. The nervous sweat Even felt in the conference room was back in full force.

Fuck.

Stuff for the fic 

1. 13:11 – A reference to a verse titled Al-ra’d (The Thunder) in the Quran that states: ‘For each such person there are angels in succession, before and behind him: They guard him by command of Allah. Allah does not change a people's lot unless they change what is in their hearts. But when once Allah willeth a people's punishment, there can be no turning it back, nor will they find, besides Him, any to protect.’ Although Isak is tentative about it, he’s actually quite open to receiving mental coaching from Sana and is actually seriously considering it. This is also the first chapter where Sana has actual dialogue with another character, so I figured the title could be a little nod to her as well. Even though it’s impossible to tell, a number of scholars on the Abrahamic faiths believe the phrase ‘God helps those who help themselves’ to have likely been derived from this verse.

2. Robert Werner Schulte - A pioneering German sports psychologist who participated in the first sports psychology lab and published a book of his findings entitled Body and Mind in Sport in 1921.

3. Coleman Griffith – Considered to be the father of sports psychology in America. He published two major works in the field titled The Psychology of Coaching (1926) and The Psychology of Athletics (1928).

4. SiO – The Student Welfare Organization of Oslo and Akershus. The organization offers several resources for university students including mental health resources. Although I have to mention that I’m not sure whether non-students can take advantage of these resources. In this au however, they are able to.

5. Mama Said Knock You Out - https://youtube.com/watch?v=vimZj8HW0Kg

Chapter Text

Onsdag 

November 7th, 2018

18:44

Elias Bakkoush’s face was a series of frown lines, creased brows and narrowed eyes. The words he was reading registered with him, he understood what had been written. The idea that someone had actually paid a lawyer to write them however, was as confusing as it was saddening. The gym owner lifted his now frustrated gaze up to the man sitting across from him.

“This is bullshit man! It’s been over a year since that shit with StavMAC went down. And you guys squared it all anyways right?”

Even’s shoulders have a lazy shrug as his only response.

“I’ll call Kreslin right now. I don’t know what he’s trying to pull, but I’m not gonna let him-“

Even’s voice was rough from disuse as he spoke.

“It’s not Kreslin.”

Elias gave his friend a blank look, the kind of look that people have right before they’re about to have new information dropped on them.

“I know who it is. I’m just……disappointed that they chose to pursue this.”

The boxing coach now knew that getting that new information from Even would take some effort.

“Even, I get that after what happened nobody at Stavanger really wanted to be associated with you or whatever, but legal action? Didn’t you settle with them?”

The blonde met his friends eyes before nodding.

“I did. Their lawyer and mine eventually settled on a figure that was to be paid off within eighteen months and it has been. That’s not what I’m being sued over, Elias.”

“Then what is it?”

Even’s face displayed what could only be described as a frustrated smile.

“Punitive damages, man. From the terms of the first lawsuit, this case was ended a little under two years ago. But the window for filing subsequent cases is a maximum of two years. This new one is, unfortunately within that two year time frame.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! What the hell kind of punitive damages does this person think they’re gonna get!?”

This drew another shrug from the instructor, his eyes staring unfocused at the desk in front of him.

“Sponsorship money I would imagine. A lot of people had legitimate cases for property damage after…..after everything went down.”

“Ok, now I know you’ve got to be fucking with me. You haven’t competed in a grappling or jiu-jitsu tournament in over three years Even! How could they possibly think they’re gonna get money off you from companies that used to sponsor you?”

The distraught grappler met his friend’s eyes with his own.

“Because three years ago I was working at StavMAC Elias and I was competing when I wasn’t training fighters. And you’re right, there wouldn’t be anyway to track how much of my sponsorship money I have or haven’t spent. But, you know who knows exactly how much I received from sponsors during my time at Stavanger? The one man who did all the accounting work for every coach and professional fighter.”

Elias furiously shook his head.

“That’s your private financial information dude! They can’t do that!”

“They can if it’s in relation to a lawsuit. Especially one that’s piggybacking off another one dealing with the same defendant.”

The two friends sat in silence in Elias’s office, a general heir of helplessness, confusion, and anger swirling in the room. The heaviness in the air was broken when the pebbled glass door to the office was loudly opened. A bright, smiling Vilde Hellerud popped her head into the space.

“Hi boys, Magnus and Mahdi are going to get some food, you wan-“.

The bubbly blonde cut herself short, the unease exuding from the office now finally hitting her.

“Wow, did someone die or something? You guys look pretty upset.”

A subtle flick of his eyes towards Even were met with an even more subtle shake of the taller man’s head.

“Nah Vilde, just uh, talking about some serious stuff. We’ll take a raincheck on that lunch ok?”

Vilde nodded respectfully, awkwardly joking she hoped they didn’t get too serious. Even took advantage of the moment to stand, stretching his long limbs. Elias did the same, leaning against the side of his desk and crossing his arms. He looked every bit a stern, youth football coach. Even would’ve laughed had the subject they’d been discussing not been so troublesome.

“You’ve gotta fight this man. It’s ridiculous.”

Even looked back at the man he considered one of his best friends. The tiredness in his eyes dulled the usual radiance of their blue hue. Even’s whole body language said one thing: defeated.

“I’m tired of fighting Elias. I just want this to be over.”

He turned and walked out of the office. Elias Bakkoush felt a profound anger stir inside him. The anger he reserved for individuals who hurt his friends. Ultimately, he knows it’s a good thing Even didn’t tell him who filed the suit against him. It didn’t make Elias’s fantasy of finding out who that person was and humiliating them in front of everyone at Stavanger any less mentally satisfying though. But then another thought struck him. Before Even could reach the door, Elias called out to him.

“Hey Even, who was the accountant?”

He responded, despite his better judgement.

“Nikolai Magnusson.”

As Even left the gym, he heard the stereo system start to play the beginning of “Roots Bloody Roots.” He could only hope that the cacophonous sonic violence of the Sepultura song wasn’t a sign of things to come. Please don’t make this worse than it alr.

Fredag 

 November 9th, 2018

17:55

Isak’s entire body was sore. The soreness that came about from a great training session. He’d gone six full rounds, each round with a different, fresh partner. The young man had been tired before, exhausted even, but this was different. This was……advanced exhaustion. He heard a muffled chuckle, angling his head to see a bemused, upside down Mahdi looking back at him.

“Is that what you do after a hard training session? Make SpongeBob references?”

The fighter didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud. Normal Isak would’ve fired back with a witty, comparable jab at his friend. All advanced exhaustion Isak could manage was, “Shut up. You and your….stupid busted leg.”

A full fledged laugh now resonated through Isak’s eardrums.

“Why even train six rounds Mahdi? It’s only a three round fight for fuck's sake!”

“Because paduwan, I don’t train fighters to get tired. I train fighters past being tired so that when their opponent is gassing out, they’re as fresh as a daisy.”

Isak lamented his friends words.

“You don’t train fighters at all! You’re not even my actual coach. If I had just wanted someone to yell at me about perseverance for thirty minutes I would’ve called Chris.”

Mahdi gave the blonde a look of confusion. Isak immediately recognized his mistake.

“Not coach Chris dummy. Chick Chris, you know, my manager Chris.”

“Aha, well you know she technically is the reason you’re having to go through this so if you really want to be upset at someone…”

Mahdi trailed off as Isak thumped his uninjured leg with a scoff. Sitting up, the older boy met his friend’s eyes.

“I can’t believe this fight is in like, less than two months.”

“Yeah, and your opponent’s a fucking nightmare bro.”

Isak apparently still had enough energy to give the injured grappler his best set of sarcastic eyes.

“Loving the support buddy.”

“Just being real man. I said he was a nightmare, not that you couldn’t win.”

With the explanation of that caveat, Mahdi secured his crutches underneath both his arms and hopped away to go talk to other members of the gym. As Isak was heaving himself up from the floor, he saw a smiling face framed by wavy, chestnut brown hair. Feliciana greeted him.

“Hey kid, I heard about you getting on that new year’s eve card. That’s great Isak!"

The blonde smiled back at his teammate, speaking while he unstuck the velcro from his gloves and slowly pulled them off.

“Yeah, from what I’ve watched, I’ve got my work cut out for me, but it should be a good card over all.”

Out of his periphery, Isak noticed something, or rather a lack of something. The small squad of seven to twelve years olds that would usually be rolling around or watching Even in rapt fascination as he broke down a technique were absent tonight. Isak inquired to his half Brazilian teammate about the instructor’s whereabouts.

“Hey, doesn’t Even have a class from 18:30 to 20:00 on Mondays?”

Isak noticed how the kickboxer’s face immediately lost some of it’s cheer. A tight lipped smile that conveyed more information than her subsequent answer came over her face.

“Yeah he actually didn’t have class last week either. I don’t know though, probably be best just to ask Even, you know?”

Well that’s not happening.

With a pout pitched to the side of his mouth Isak gave a shrug he hoped relayed how little he actually cared before replying.

“As long as it doesn’t effect him helping me train for this fight.”

“Hmm, nice to know you care about your coaches so much.”

Isak’s brows drew towards each other at the sarcastic response.

“Give me a break! I’ve barely known the guy a couple months. And it’s not like we got off to the best start either.”

As the blonde was talking to Feliciana he was unstrapping the shin and foot pads that he’d worn when he was sparring. The bantamweight sighed, shaking her head.

“No matter how old boys get they can still be so stupid sometimes.”

Finally getting both sets of protective gear off, Isak raised his head to deliver a rebuttal, but found that his friend had already moved to another area of the gym, warming up to do a few rounds on a heavy bag.

He is training you for this fight Isak. And he’s Mahdi’s replacement for at least the next month. Might as well get along with him. Besides, you really think you have enough energy to spare some bad vibes for the guy?

Isak grunted as he got up, walking over to far left side of the gym and entering the men’s locker room. He hated when his brain was right.

18:11

Isak had a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist. Well, it was fluffy. Now it held an odd moisture to it. It certainly wasn’t soaked, but it wasn’t dry either. It was a soothing, warm weight around Isak’s legs though. That combined with the relaxing atmosphere of the sauna had the mixed martial artist closing his eyes and settling in for what would be a good steam.

“Yo, Isak.”

The blonde jolted at the voice addressing him. The relaxing atmosphere he’d slotted himself into was now quickly melting away. Only partially from the heat of the sauna however. Isak’s eyes shifted over to his right find a shirtless Olmeive sitting comfortably, his legs splayed wide stretching what the older boy thought might be the smallest towel in Bred Akse.

Jeez, just wear a loincloth why don’t you.

The imagery that flashed in his head made Isak shiver despite the heat of the room. Fuck, definitely don’t imagine that. A distant noise shook Isak from his thoughts. He turned to Olm to see the lightweight champion fixing him with an expectant gaze before finally speaking.

“Shit man. Sorry, I was just thinking about my fight and everything. Probably gonna be my most difficult one yet.”

I definitely wasn’t thinking about what it would be like to run my fingers over the beads of sweat on your abs.

Isak’s friend and training partner made a noise confirming that he agreed with the smaller fighter. Olmeive turned just slightly to his left, his slack ankle now only a few inches away from Isak’s. The featherweight noticed this and felt himself blushing, immediately thankful he could chock it up to the steam permeating the small space. Clearing his throat, the blonde boy continued talking.

“So um, yeah man. My opponents a Cage Warriors veteran. Something like nine fights and a couple title shots. I have to say, I don’t know what brought him back to Norway. There’s much more opportunity in the U.K. or the states.”

Glancing back over to his fellow fighter, Isak was instantly aware of how intense Olmeive’s eyes had become. He was scared, nervous, excited and oddly aroused all at once.

“Can I ask you a question Isak?”

When the deep, smoothness of the champions voice hit Isak’s ears, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of electricity travel all throughout his body. He tried to swallow as subtly as possible before answering.

“Absolutely Olm.”

“Do you think people think I’m dumb?”

Isak’s head moved backwards, his chin coming closer to his neck.

“No way man. You’re an awesome guy Olm. You’re a good friend and training partner, not to mention the fucking lightweight champion. Why do you ask?”

Olmeive tilted his head toward Isak, his left ankle and foot now just brushing against the other’s, albeit unintentionally.

“Well, I guess because it seems that some individuals maybe think that I don’t notice certain things. But I notice a lot more than people might think Isak.”

The blonde’s pulse had skyrocketed. With the way Olmeive was talking Isak was expecting either a fist or a kiss, but he got neither. Instead the younger boy turned to face him completely before continuing to speak.

“I know about you Isak and I’m completely okay with it. And before you ask, no, no one told me. I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I can read people very well….. Growing up with a shitbag of a dad helped me with that. Not being told when you’re going to get a beating is pretty nerve-wracking. But, over time, you start to pick up on all the little signs, start to predict it. And then you can at least try to avoid it.”

Isak had nothing to say. Wow, that was not what I was expecting. Coming back to himself rather quickly, the older boy immediately began telling Olmeive how sorry he was he had to go through that growing up. Isak knew a number of the fighters at Bred Akse didn’t have the best upbringing, but this was the first time anyone had ever been this explicit or candid about it. Olm only shook his head, respectively deflecting Isak’s sympathies.

“I’m not fishing for pity man. No, I just…..” the champion paused, having difficulty finding his words, “I just want you to know that you’re not alone ok? Every member of this gym has been through something that fucked them up somehow Isak. Something that they had to recover from. I don’t know your past, I don’t know what you’ve been through, what has or hasn’t been done to you. All I know is that you’re my friend and my partner and I want you to be happy. So if there’s anyway I can do that, you just let me know ok?”

Isak wasn’t sure, but that may have been the most that Olmeive had ever said to him that wasn’t about mma or combat sports in general. The lump in Isak’s throat prevented him from swallowing away the emotion he felt building up in him. No. You need to feel this. You need to know you have people who care about you Isak. He let out a stuttered breath and turned his head from the concerned eyes of his friend. Isak knew he couldn’t blame the sauna for the moisture now collecting in and falling from his eyes. Olmeive put a soothing hand on his friend’s shoulder giving it a squeeze and pat before getting up and exiting the sweltering room.

22:57

A person that was only watching the two men, without any context, might have assumed they were in some sort of bizarre staring contest. Each one seemed to be waiting for the other to speak or even blink. Elias was brainstorming ways to inform William about Even’s situation without blowing his friend’s cover. William was brainstorming all the possible reasons the owner of one of the top three mma gyms in Oslo had called him, rather abruptly if he was honest, at just before 23:00 on a weekday. Finally, after a few minutes of awkward silence, both men spoke at the same time.

“Listen, Elias, you’re nice to look at and all-“

“Does your brother still work for Stavanger, because-“

Each catching the other off guard, they both apologized before William welcomed his friend to continue.

“So, I don’t really now how else to put this man, but uh….”, A long, tired breath broke free from Elias’s lips, “I think your brother may be trying to blackmail one of my very close friends with a lawsuit.”

The surprised face the boxing coach was expecting from William didn’t come to fruition. Instead the NFC ‘s president and co-owner had a look of expectant disappointment flash across his face.

“Nikolai has been known to be a piece of shit. It’s certainly not something I’d put past him. But having said that I don’t know how I’m going to be of much help.”

Unfortunately, Elias had expected this response. Anyone who’d been in the mixed martial arts scene of Oslo in the past decade knew how deep the rift between the Magnusson brothers ran. But from Elias standpoint, without letting a significantly larger number of people know about Even’s situation, is seemed like his only course of action.

“I know you guys don’t get along very well or really even at all, but I’m really trying to protect E-,” the gym owner paused at his own slip up before continuing, ”To protect my friend’s privacy. If you think there’s any chance you could get Niko to drop this thing, it’d be a massive favor if you could talk to him.”

The look of simultaneous sympathy and frustration gave Elias his answer before the man sitting across from him even began to speak.

“I can absolutely try to talk some sense into him Elias. I think you remember, however, that the last time Nikolai and myself were together, he broke two of my ribs and I put his head through a car window resulting in him getting twenty-eight stitches. He’s also the reason why I can’t completely straighten the last two fingers on my right hand.”

The promoter held the aforementioned mentioned hand in front of himself as he spoke, demonstrating flattening his point and middle finger while his ring and pinky finger stayed somewhat curled.

“Well, I can’t say he didn’t deserve what he got. I mean, the fact that the guy basically ran to Stavanger after that is all the evidence I need to know he’s a coward. But look man, regardless of whether you’re able to convince him to stop this bullshit or not, I really appreciate it and so does my friend, even if he might not say so.”

The two men stood up and filed out of Elias’s office stopping in front of the main entrance to the gym. William turned and gave an amiable pat to the other man’s arm.

“I know we’ve had some differences in the past Elias, but I’m proud to call you my friend. And while Nikolai is my brother in blood only,” He fixed the black haired man with a look of sincerity, “You’re my brother in everything but. I’ll talk about it with Noora and let you know how it goes ok?”

Elias expressed his thanks to William before returning inside the gym and preparing to close up. He’d almost forgotten he wasn’t the only one there until he saw a familiar head of short, blonde curls putting away the supplies he’d used to clean the mats and exercise equipment.

“Yo, little viking, be honest, how much of that did you hear?”

Isak closed the door to the supply closet and turned around, crossing his arms to warm himself. Does it really cost that much to keep the heat on overnight?

“I heard enough to know that someone close to you is being sued. Oh and to confirm, well, reconfirm I suppose, that Nikolai Magnusson is a horrible person.”

Elias nodded slowly, oddly relieved that he wouldn’t have the guilt of not telling his student what was being discussed between himself and William.

“Well, just keep that to yourself ok Isak? My friend really doesn’t want-“ Isak cut his coach off as respectfully as possible.

“Hey, Elias, relax bro. I can keep a secret. And besides, right now I don’t really know anything anyways.”

The older man thanked him for his promised secrecy as well as for staying after hours to clean up.

“You know, that janitorial position is always open if you want to make a little extra scratch.”

The featherweight threw his eyebrows up to his forehead, peering at Elias through his lashes before letting loose a witty reply.

“I appreciate the offer coach but I prefer to get my brain damage from being punched and kicked. Getting it from cleaning chemicals is just so trite and boring.”

Despite the rather morbid nature of the joke, Elias had to reward his fighter with a laugh and shake of his head.

“Always the maverick huh Valtersen?”

The fighter gave his boxing coach a self satisfied smile before the two locked up and walked out of the gym.

Stuff for the fic 

1. StavMAC – Stavanger Martial Arts Center. In this story I’ll be using StavMAC as a fictionalized version of the real Stavanger MMA Gym.

2. MMA Rounds – Within professional mixed martial arts, the rounds are 5 minutes apiece with 3 rounds for nontitle fights. Title fights and usually main events are 5, 5 minute rounds.

3. The Sepultura song if anyone is interested lol - https://youtube.com/watch?v=F_6IjeprfEs

Chapter Text

Mandag

November 12th, 2018

11:20

He’d arrived about ten minutes early for the appointment, figuring it’d give him time to study more film on his opponent. Or more time to back out, right Isak? The blonde youth pushed his inner thoughts into a tiny steel cage at the back of his mind. It was a place only used when Isak needed to fully pay attention to something. He didn’t use it nearly as much as he thought he should, but remained focused on the fight playing out in front of him on his phone.

He’d turned the sound off not only to be courteous to the few students in the lounge area outside SiO’s mental health services office, but to also not be influenced by the commentary on the fight. Isak studied the man’s footwork, how he set up his punches with feints and positioning. Currently on the small rectangular screen, his future competition had his man backed up against the fence.

He’d feinted a jab with his lead left before dropping his right shoulder down, appearing to go for a body shot. The other fighter took the bait, which allowed Isak’s opponent to cross his left leg just to the outside and in front of his competition’s, his right elbow coming up parallel to his own face as his hips turned through. The other man was just a split second too late in trying to throw his own punch however and ended up catching a spinning right elbow across the jaw. The momentarily stunned fighter had given Isak’s opponent just enough time to launch a compact, piston like straight left, dropping the man for a true walk off knockout. Jesus, this guy hits like a fucking freight train!

The fighter's eyes drifted to the title of the video. “Agmir ‘Angel of Death’ Holvien K.O.’s Andrew Fisher”. It was a video from over four years ago, but Isak doubted that Holvien’s power or speed had diminished much in that time. Of course his fucking nickname is Angel of Death. Before the featherweight could become anymore concerned about the tenacity of his upcoming adversary, he heard his name being called. Putting his phone back into his pocket, Isak removed himself from the chair in the lobby of SiO’s mental health services office and strode up to the front desk. He noticed the same boy from the other week was working. What he hadn't noticed in their previous non-vocal interaction though, was just how fucking cute the guy was.

He had deep, coffee colored hair shaved short on the sides and kept longer on top. The boy's wavy locks were highlighted by matte auburn streaks, his eyes a dirty hazel that boasted shades of brown and green. He was clean shaven at the moment, but Isak could tell the boy could grow a decent beard if he wanted to. His lips were full, yet a perfect fit for his face. Near alabaster skin was accented by small smatterings of dark brown freckles and lightly flushed cheeks. Isak swallowed heavily. Holy Christ, he’s fucking gorgeous. Clearing his throat, the young mixed martial artist addressed the boy, who's name pin informed him his name was Tobias.

“Hi Tobias. I have an 11:30 with Ms. Bakkoush.”

Isak's voice held a hint of a question to it. The university student looked at him directly now, their eyes meeting. A colony of fluttering butterfly's erupted within the blonde's stomach.

“Oh hey. You're the dude from last week. And yes you do. Let me just buzz you through.”

The shorter boy pressed a button on what looked to Isak like a sound mixer. A low toned buzzing could be heard in the small space. As Isak moved to open the door, Tobias spoke up.

“Hope you have a good session….”

The fighter stood there with the door halfway opened for a few seconds before he realized what the other young man was subtly asking him. Tell him your name, moron! Reaching out a hand, Isak met the brunette halfway in a warm, friendly handshake.

“I’m Isak. You might be seeing more of me around here by the way.”

He was rewarded with a small smile and nod from Tobias.

“Can’t say I’d mind that too much.”, the student said, his small smile now a fully flirtatious one. Isak didn’t get a chance to wow the boy with a witty remark before he spoke again, this time with the slightest hint of urgency in his voice.

“You should probably get in there though. It’s already five after.”

“I suppose I should. You have a good day Tobias.”, as Isak talked he discreetly, well, what he thought was discreetly, checked out the smaller boy. He was very pleased with the lithe, wiry muscle tone that he could make out through the student's well fitted clothing.

“You do the same Isak.”

The young men parted ways as the taller made the short trek back to Sana's office.

|

12:09

The November cold snap had broken for a few days in Oslo, and William and Noora had decided to take advantage of it. They were seated outside of Engebret Café, a spot they’d both admired since their days in secondary school. The main difference now being that they could pay for their meals with their own money. Each had decided to break some important news to their partner, a fact they’d established while they were waiting on their food. Noora had volunteered to go first. She didn't speak, only retrieved a small, white, wand like object from her purse and handed it to William. It took the man a few seconds to realize what he was seeing, but when he did he was beyond ecstatic.

“Oh my God! Noora, this is incredible!”

The two shared wide smiles as well as a long embrace and kiss before sitting back down. It was only after the initial surprise and joy had been tamped down slightly that William realized he still he had to deliver his significantly less happy news. He held his wife's gaze somewhat sympathetically before expounding on his own news.

“So, this probably isn't the news you want to hear after telling your husband you're pregnant, but I made a promise to Elias.”

Noora's face quickly went from overjoyed to concerned as she listened to her partner explain what he’d been told by Bred Akse's owner.

“Someone from the Stavanger MMA gym is suing one of Elias's friends. And from what he told me, there’s good reason to believe that Nikolai is involved somehow.”

A thoughtful expression came over the blonde's face for a few seconds before she replied.

“Is it Even?”

“Who?”

“Even Bech Naesheim? He teaches a kids jiu-jitsu class at Bred Akse. Actually, I think he’s helping Isak train for his fight next month.”

“Oh, right, of course. But why would it be him?”

Noora leaned back in her seat and leveled her husband with a playful smirk before answering.

“Aren't you supposed to be the one with your finger on the pulse of Norwegian mma?”

William gave her a rather helpless expression, turning his hands over and raising them to show he didn't know what she was talking about. Noora continued.

“Well as much as I hate gossip, the word is that there was some sort of falling out between Even and one of the other coaches at Stavanger. Like, a gym-wrecking type of falling out.”

William's eyes widened at the new information. He’d had his suspicions before, but having a semi concrete answer now, things made a bit more sense. A decorated jiu-jitsu phenom that trained some of the most successful fighters in the sport just decides to get a nine-to-five and open a school for kids? It didn’t add up very cleanly. However, this didn't mean he didn't still have unanswered questions.

“So what happened?”

Noora shrugged and looked off to her left.

“From what I’ve gathered, Even settled out of court and paid off an agreed upon figure. Whoever is responsible for this lawsuit is likely suing for punitive damages. Possibly for loss of personal property.”

William usually enjoyed it when his wife showed her knowledge of the legal system, but he was disappointed that she had to in this case. He gave Noora a tight lipped smile.

“Yeah, that’s what Elias said as well. I just think that's kind of…..cowardly I guess. But then again, if Nikolai is involved that’s to be expected.”

“You think he’s pushing someone to sue Even?”

“I think he hated that Even was the one bringing more attention to Stavanger instead of him.”

Noora scoffed and rolled her eyes before responding.

“Pardon my language, but he’s a fucking accountant. Why would he think he's bringing any attention to the gym?”

“Well, I suppose we can add delusional to the long list of character flaws he already has.”

The couple shared a quiet chuckle and spent the rest of their lunch discussing other subjects, primarily the fact that they’d both be becoming parents in a little under nine months. As they finished up their meals and went inside to pay, William remembered what Elias has asked of him. He knew there was zero chance of stopping his brother from pursuing whatever it was he had against Even. But, there was a reason that Noora was his primary legal consultant and contract drafter. She was far more that just a pretty face; the girl knew her shit. Which is why William decided to hazard one more question.

“So, do you think Even has any chance of fighting this thing? And I mean, is there anything we could do to help?”

Noora turned to the promotion owner after she’d squared away the payment for the couple's lunch.

“It's primarily dependent on the validity of the plaintiff's claim. If the person suing him has actual evidence of property damage or can prove any kind of negative monetary or mental effects well….” She paused and gave William a look of sympathy, “Even's best case scenario will probably be to settle again. Whether it will be in or out of court will likely depend on the figure the other person's lawyer comes up with. It’s unfortunate, but he doesn't have a lot of options.”

William sighed in frustration and looked off to the side, reluctantly nodding his head in understanding. He looked back at his wife and broke into a bright smile.

“Sorry about, kind of, sort of, totally ruining your awesome surprise by the way.”

Noora's eyes crinkled as she laughed and shook her head before looking up to her husband, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“You didn’t ruin anything William. You just reminded me how loyal you are and how much you care for your friends. It’s part of why I married you to be honest.”

The two locked eyes as they came to the tram stop and shared a short, but passionate kiss before boarding the transit vehicle and heading home.

|

Torsdag 

November 15th, 2018

18:56

Elias had told Isak he didn't have to worry about teaching his class when preparing for a fight. It was a song and dance the coach and student had done a total of seven times now, including the boy's amateur career. The blonde understand where his head coach was coming from. Not teaching would allow for more training, more specialization in regards to his competition. But for Isak, teaching was sometimes just as if not even more effective than any particular training regiment might be. It gave him a chance to break everything down again, to relearn technique and position. A lot of people looked at Isak and saw a troubled kid who wouldn't have cut it in the real world. Someone whose only option was fighting.

This couldn't have been further from the truth though. Isak's love of mixed martial arts and all the myriad disciplines it represented didn't come from wanting to hurt his opponents or feeling physically superior over them. Oddly enough, a lot of it came from a place of deep, intellectual intrigue. It wasn't just knowing that a technique worked and was effective, it was learning why. Studying the human body in regards to combat and athleticism. Although there were few people who'd be able to confirm it, the young fighter had been a pretty big science enthusiast, i.e. nerd, in his secondary school days. He still was in all honesty. He'd brought that same level of enthusiasm and curiosity into his mixed martial arts career. It was what made Isak a great fighter, but it could also be what paralyzed him into a state of near inaction. He was as determined as possible to completely eliminate the negative aspect of his approach to mma, but that was a task easier said than done.

The young man was currently demonstrating techniques working within the clinch with Bred Akse's recently crowned lightweight champion. The chances that Isak had broken a two week continuum on different sweeps from guard because his future co-competitor was a Muay Thai champion with a nasty clinch were exceedingly high. None of his students seemed to think it necessary to bring up however. A near half hour late Even Bech Naesheim, much to Isak’s chagrin, did though. He looked at Olmeive and Isak as they broke down setting up a trip from someone attempting to advance position in the clinch. His normally kind and accommodating blue eyes were steeled into flat lapis lazuli. Once the two fighter's were done instructing, an already wound up Even stormed over to Isak, latching onto the young man’s arm just above his elbow and yanking him off the mat as if he were a disobedient child. Isak threw off the elder’s grip with derision and was about to lay into him for his seemingly random rudeness, but Even spoke first.

“What the hell are you doing Isak? Did we not agree we were working on sweeps from guard for the next two weeks?”

Although he was taken aback by the others uncharacteristic outburst, Isak attempted to remain calm.

“Even, I don't know what’s got you so upset, but you need to relax. We can always pick up where we left off after my fight. Besides it’s not like-“, the blonde boy was cut off by a verbal barb from his co-instructor.

“You understand the gym doesn't revolve around you right?”

Isak's jaw tightened, eyes narrowed.

“I understand that you're upset about something. It doesn't mean you need to be a dick.”

Even broke out into a sarcastic laugh, stating how hypocritical it was of Isak to say this. The younger man grabbed Even in the same manner he had been grabbed earlier, dragging him further away from the class. Isak had the older man backed into a spot on the wall, the taller blonde's back brushing a section of rectangular cushion. The anger in Isak’s voice was being tempered, but it still got his point across.

“Listen to me Even. This is what you’re going to do, hey, hey!, “ Isak tipped the other man's head up, forcing their eyes to meet, “You're going to go in front of the class after they’re done with this clinch drill, you're going to apologize for being late and you're to help me clean and lock up.”

Even's eyes were wide and quizzical. I should be upset at him, talking to me like that. Fuck…did I like that? The Jujitsuka rolled his eyes dramatically and scoffed at Isak's firm instructions.

“Are you my fucking teacher now Isak? Gonna keep me in line?”

Isak crowded Even against the padded wall further, an authoritative bite to his words as he replied.

“If I have to be. And if I have to, yes.”

He leaned closer into Even, speaking lowly, trying to make his tone intimidating.

“I don’t have a problem disciplining you in front of the whole gym.”

Even did feel a bit intimidated, among other things.

“Whatever, Valtersen. I don’t have to do what you ask me.”

“Well good, because I’m not asking, now run along ne-waza nerd.”

The black belt wanted to keep going back and forth with Isak, but his body was having….other feelings about the young fighter's words. Ok, so the guy sounds good giving orders, so what? He walked around the shorter man, striding back over to the class and waiting for them to finish drilling so he could apologize. As the students were completing their work with the technique Isak demonstrated, Even made sure the younger was watching and started speaking.

“Hey everyone, let me get your attention for a sec, “ His eyes meet Isak's before he continued, “Isak is making me apologize ….”.

|

21:48

The softly abrasive texture made a sandpaper like sound as Even used the dish towel to clean the heavybag. Isak had decided because he’d given such a lackluster apology, he could clean by himself, while the mma fighter scrutinized his work. The instructor had attempted to appeal to Elias, but the coach sided with Isak, saying Even's current attitude wasn't good for the atmosphere of the gym. Although he though it was a bit ridiculous, Even acquiesced to Isak's wishes. The younger was currently watching Even, messing with him while he was cleaning.

“If you were just cool, you wouldn't have to be doing this.”, Isak stated in a sing-song voice. Even released a soft grunt of effort as he scooted around to begin cleaning another area of the bag. Isak continued talking.

“Yep, Elias was actually thinking of letting me teach another class, one on having all the chill.”

Even smiled a playful grin. Oh we'll see how much chill you have. He pressed his chest to the clean, quarter inch foam that sat beneath the line of heavybags in Bred Akse. After this, the older man shifted his knees further apart, putting his ass out on display. He made it appear he was leaning to clean a spot on the bag and let out a slightly bratty huff.

“I can’t reach this spot.”

Even heard a stifled snort and then Isak's voice.

“Yeah right dude. What can’t you reach? Isn’t your…um….uh.”

Smiling to himself, the taller of the two started wiggling his ass a bit, turning his head just to the left to affirm that the younger man was indeed watching Even's slowly writhing rump. He did this for a few more minutes, really letting Isak get as much visual real estate on his ass as he wanted. Once he’d deemed that the mixed martial artist had had enough, he picked himself up from the floor and threw the towel over his shoulder with a satisfied sigh.

“Guess I’ll do the gear now.”

As Even's strong, large hands sanitized the collection of pads, gloves, headgear and other training items in the gym, Isak decided to try to talk to the man again, sans butt ogling.

“So, I haven’t ever really asked how you got into mma and stuff.”

Even made a humming noise before letting out a small yawn and stretching his arms above his head. Isak briefly eyed the other man's arms. Long, subtly sculpted pale limbs that moved with a contradictory grace about them. He answered his younger gym mate.

“When I was seven to twenty-one, my Dad was part of a marketing firm that dealt mainly with athletics. He got on the mma bandwagon when it was still just a four door sedan.”

Isak pushed some air through his teeth, expressing his amusement.

“We lived in Norway, America, and Japan intermittently. I met Elias when I was around twelve. His cousin owned this boxing gym, but he subletted for these jiu-jitsu guys as well. I learned pretty quick that boxing wasn't for me.”

This coaxed and actual chuckle from the shorter man.

“But, I fell in love with Jiu-Jitsu. Whenever we were in Japan, I was always training traditional Jujutsu. I started to get pretty good after a few years, and when I was twenty, I won Abu Dhabi.”

Isak and Even's eyes met. The latter’s eyes were bashful in response to the reverence in the other's.

“Relax it happened just the once. But, a year after that, I got called up to be a training partner for Per Eklund. And I think you know the rest.”

He did know the rest. The amount of research Isak has done on Even would’ve been embarrassing had he not had the excuse of “getting to know his co-instructor”. But Isak was still a bit sour about the older man's earlier behavior and decided to make him aware of it.

“I guess that’s what I don’t get.”

The smaller blonde received a questioning look from Even. Isak explained himself.

“You're one of the most decorated grapplers in Scandinavia Even. You can go into pretty much any jiu-jitsu school in Europe, hell, in the world and someone is going to recognize you. I don’t get what there is to be upset about.”

Even sighed as he set the focus mitts he was cleaning aside and addressed his training partner.

“All those accomplishments are nice, but they don’t make my life magically easier, Isak.”

Isak snorted and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess having an insider helps.”

Even had an uncomfortable look on his face. He understood what the other boy was saying, but didn’t like what it implied. He told Isak as much only to have him laugh in his face.

“Everyone who got a leg up wants to pretend they were a paraplegic once they're successful.”

He spoke in a mocking voice.

“Oh yes. I got here all by myself. It was so hard to be me you know.”

Isak shook his head, muttering “Give me a break.”, under his breath.

Even immediately took offence to this and reprimanded the young fighter.

“Hey, don’t presume to know anything about me I haven't told you Isak. You don’t have any idea what I might or might not be going through. Or what anyone else might be for that matter!”

It was the younger who took offense now.

“Oh c’mon Even. You know I respect you and what you’ve accomplished. You helped get mma legalized and regulated in Norway! But don’t act like you didn’t have a huge advantage over other people.”

“That’s not-“

“I thought for someone who styles themselves as being so socially conscious you’d be aware of that.”

Even pinched his nose and shook his head.

“You can’t begin to understand what I’ve gone through Isak.”

Isak responded angrily now.

“Oh really, was it having to leave your own house because it became unsafe? Was is being homeless for three months? Was it your mom calling the cops on you when she doesn't recognize you anymore? Don’t talk to me about what some spoiled rich kid had to go through. And yes Even, that is what you are. What do you think you could’ve gone through that was worse than what happened to me hmm? What could've happened to you that wou-“ Even cut the boy off and replied with a scarily calm demeanor.

“I lost custody of my daughter Isak. I don’t know when I’ll see her again. If I’ll see her again. That's why you can’t understand this. And I’m not going go sit here and make you try.”

The wistful man pushed himself off of where he was leaning on the outer platform of the cage, scooping up his bag and water bottle, and leaving behind a stunned and ashamed Isak Valtersen.

Stuff for the fic

1. The song the lyric for the chapter title is taken from - Tyler, The Creator: See You Again 

This song is the feeling I imagine Isak has when he meets Tobias. 

2. Agmir's Spinning Elbow

 The only difference in this is that Agmir's elbow stunned his opponent, but the follow up left hook is what knocked him out.

3. Andrew Fisher - An English mixed martial artist who currently competes in the featherweight division of the ACB (Absolute Championship Berkut).

4. Abu Dhabi – Referring to the ADCC (Abu Dhabi Combat Club) which is a submission wrestling world championship. I chose this tournament to highlight how high level Even's grappling is as ADCC consistently hosts the best practitioners in a variety of grappling based martial arts. In this timeline Even won the 194 lb (88 kgs) tournament in 2007. Also, fun fact, the 2nd place winner of ADCC's Men's 2007 Superfight Tournament was a Norwegian named Jon Olav Einemo.

5. Per Eklund – A successful Swedish mixed martial artist who was the first Swede to compete in the UFC. Per is often considered a pioneer for Swedish MMA. He had a final record of 14-5-1 (wins, loses, draws) when he retired in 2011.

6. MMA Legality in Norway - So it's weird that I haven't brought this up till now, lol. Currently, mixed martial arts as a sport in banned in Norway. Any combat sport that has a knockout as a means of winning a fight is also banned (boxing, kickboxing, Muay Thai, etc.) There are still a number of high level MMA gyms and fighters, however while they can train in Norway, they cannot compete there. Norway is the only Scandinavian country where MMA is illegal.

Chapter Text

Torsdag 

Desember 17th, 2018

12:08

The next several weeks of Isak’s training camp and mma grappling class were uncomfortable to say the least. Isak and Even were acting like they had been shamefully caught fucking in a supply closet when in reality the two had had a rather unfortunate misunderstanding. If the younger martial artist had any apology to give, he kept it to himself. Although what Even didn’t know was that this was done out of shame more than anything. Isak felt pretty guilty for judging his training partner so harshly, but whereas before he would have to keep those thoughts and feelings to himself, he at least now had a place he could express them. A place where his feelings would be respected and talked about, even if he himself thought they were stupid. It was a Thursday, late in the morning when Isak finally broke and explained what had been bothering him to Sana.

“I was just such a jerk to him. I guess, maybe it was the stress of this fight, but he didn't deserve it. Especially because….well”, Isak paused, considering how much of Even's predicament he should actually explain, “He really is going through something difficult right now. Something….. I can’t actually even relate to.”

Sana gave a nod before dispensing her advice.

“So apologize to him. It's obvious this is effecting your relationship with him as a training partner and co-instructor. You should get ahead of it now before it can have a chance to effect your performance as well.”

Isak sighed and shook his head while shrugging.

“But I don’t even know what to say Sana.”

“It doesn’t matter what you say. As long as you’re being genuine when you say it. But don’t force it either. It’s going to be uncomfortable Isak, admitting you were in the wrong always is. But it shouldn't feel like something you have to do. Just be honest with him. Even is a good person, he'll understand. Despite what you might think he wasn't always as chill as he is now.”

The sports psychologist looked as if she had stories of her own to tell about the older man and Isak asked her as much. She smiled, closing her eyes and shaking her head a bit.

“When you and Even are back on as….whatever you are, ask him about some of the stories from when he was around your age. Him and my brother got up to some pretty stupid shit back in the day.”

Isak smirked at the woman.

“And innocent Sanasol was just caught in the middle of it all.”

“Damn right I was! Those two were always trying to corrupt me.”

The two shared a laugh before moving on to other topics. They'd been doing visualization exercises the past few sessions. The only other mental coach Isak had used, when he was still in the amateur circuit, had taught him a few that he still employed. They’d established that the young fighter's main concern about the fight wasn’t so much getting hurt as it was proving everyone who considered his opponent too much to soon correct. Sana and her client worked on insulating himself from others opinions and predictions, at least while in preparation. It was something Isak had always had difficulty with; not putting stock into what people in the gym or even people online had to say about him as a fighter. Or anyone else for that matter. As their time drew to a close, the younger of the two's mind was drawn elsewhere however. This time to the boy who happened to be, to Isak's delight, stationed behind the desk in SiO's mental health department's lobby.

“So, does the guy in the lobby work here like full time or….?”

Sana cocked her head, shooting Isak a somewhat vexing look.

“I would hope not considering he's a student.”

The blonde let out a small huff.

“And how was I supposed to know that?”

“Um, because you've shown up early to talk to him the past few weeks?”

Isak's reply had taken a pit stop in his throat, the blood his brain was going to use to respond had filtered into his cheeks.

“I mean, I know his class schedule. If you want I could-“, Sana's recovered yet still blushing client cut her off before she could embarrass him more.

“No Sana, I don’t need his class schedule. And we are just talking by the way.”

The sports psychologist felt like a mother teasing her child about his crush.

“All I’m saying is you guys seem to enjoy each other’s company quite a bit.”, Sana said, hands raising in mock defense.

It was a topic they’d danced around significantly before. Isak had told her of his…..unwanted…attractions. Had told her about his now defunct crush on Chris, although he didn't mention him by name. Sana was far more respectful than he had anticipated. She’d told Isak he wasn't the only closeted athlete she had worked with and he wasn't likely to be the last. The younger man originally had some reservations about telling her his insecurities in regards to his sexuality due to what he perceived might be intolerance from her religion. Sana had quickly shut his worries down however, stating that just because she was a Muslim didn't mean she held intolerant views. It also didn't mean she agreed with or even condoned some of the things spoken about in the Quran. For Sana Bakkoush, being a good Muslim meant being a good person. If at times that meant a rub with her own religious doctrine, so be it.

“I do know that Tobias would love to watch your fight though.”

Isak shot his mental coach a look of suspicion.

“Seriously? I mean, Tobi is a really cool guy, but you think he'd actually wanna see that?”

A knowing smirk came over Sana's face.

“Do I think the boy that you’ve been having weekly eye sex with in the lobby of my workplace wants to see you shirtless, in compression shorts, and sweating heavily? Isak, c'mon.”

The fuck? Has she been hanging out with Eskild or something?

The mixed martial artist hadn't thought of that, but now it seemed like a good tactic. Despite the boy's athletic build, he was still a bit shy about his body outside of the cage. He found himself blushing again while laughing off Sana's comment. The two stood and walked to the door of the office. They scheduled Isak’s next appointment before saying their goodbyes, the older woman wishing Isak luck in his fight. We have been talking a lot, maybe I just need to go for it. A rare wave of confidence crashed over him, giving him the courage to approach Tobias as he walked out of the hallway that hosted the mental health offices at SiO. He fixed the younger boy with a large smile.

“Hey man. Sana told me you might be interested in going to my fight on the twenty-ninth?”

Tobias lifted his head and returned Isak’s smile.

“Yeah I did. I can’t say I’m a huge mma fan or anything, but I have a friend who goes to a lot of local events and said she thinks I’d enjoy it. Do you know Emma Larzen?”

Shit.

“Uh yeah I do actually. She’s friends with a few of the people I train with.”

“No way! Well you know, I’d love to come and watch you train sometime. I did Tae Kwan Do when I was a kid, but I think it’s a little different.”

Isak giggled at the other boy.

“Just a bit. But I could probably get you a discount if you wanted to take a class or something.”

Wow Isak. Way to go on sounding like every gym bro trying to get laid ever.

“Yeah, that would be cool. Are there still tickets or…”

“Oh, uh yeah I could get you a ticket if you want.”

Tobias gave him an appreciative yet oddly bashful grin.

“Thanks Isak. I can’t wait to watch your fight.”

“Well, I’m glad to know you’ll be cheering me on.”

The boy’s exchanged their goodbyes and Isak walked out of the office building, bracing against the near freezing afternoon air of the city.

13:32

This was the second time in less than a month that Even was meeting with his lawyer. The first was to go over his options concerning the suit being leveled against him by one of his old teammates. The nature of the current meeting, however, was far different. Only a handful of times in his life could Even Bech Naesheim say he was truly enraged. Truly angry. Unfortunately for his lawyer, this was one of those times.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t she have just let me know!? If she needed money, she didn't need to fucking sue me! And to think that Julian was complicit in all this bullshit, I just-“ The fury of the towering jiu-jitsuka was almost too much for himself to handle. He brought his hands up to his hair, entangling them and releasing a bellowing cry of frustration . The man’s legal council tried in vain to calm him down.

“Even, I totally understand why you’re upset. And it’s one hundred percent justified in this case but-,”

“You know I thought we were all moving on”, Even collapsed into the chair sitting in front of his lawyers desk, making the woman weary as everything not heavy or tacked down seemed to shake, “I thought we had gotten past this. I mean, I never expected her to forgive me. I wouldn’t have forgiven me, but man…..this is just….fucked up.”

Once it appeared that he'd finally run out of steam, Even's lawyer addressed him as calmly and quietly as possible, hoping to placate him.

“Even, I agree with you whole heartedly. What Iben is doing? It’s disgusting. It’s kicking a man while he’s down because she can’t stand to think that you might go on to live a happy and productive life. But, unfortunately, it’s all legal. I know it feels like blackmail, and in a lot of ways it is. That doesn't make it any less legitimate though. Our best course of action right now is to accept these terms and wait until you can resubmit your appeal for shared custody.”

Even was repeatedly shaking his head back and forth.

“I just don’t get it. I understand her being taken away from me, I don’t like it, but I get it. I understand the StavMAC lawsuit. I even understand the mandatory hospitalization. But I can’t understand this.”

An expression of genuine sympathy washed across the older woman’s face.

“I don’t understand it either Even. But my job isn't to understand it and neither is yours. What we need to be focusing on now, is getting things ready so that when the judge does look into your appeal for shared custody, he can’t point to anything as a reason why it shouldn’t be granted. So let's put our energy into that. Making your home suitable for an eleven year old girl isn't something I’d expect you to do overnight Even. But I can help. I can tell wh-“

“I know what my child, what my daughter, needs to live a happy, safe life Kirstjen. I made sure she had all of it for the first eight years, I’m not going to just suddenly forget now.”

Although she didn't appreciate the younger man's tone, she let it slide considering how taxing and draining his current situation was.

“I don’t know what to tell you Even. Right now, as difficult as it might be, I’d only focus on what’s going to get the judge to think about granting you partial custody again. Throw yourself into your work if you need to. Spend more time at the gym, whatever it might be. But if we're going to fight this, really make this judge reconsider his decision, you’re going to have to put in the work son. The good news is, I’m here to help you with that as much as I’m able to.”

A sly smile crept across the lawyer's face.

“And just between you and me, I may have….slipped…and accidentally ran my key along Mrs. Dahl’s new car the other day.”

It wasn't the justice Even was seeking, but it still brought a lip flapping, fondly dismissive laugh out of him. And considering his current state of mind, that was about as good as it was going to get right now.

17:17

Even, Noora, and William were all packed into Elias's office, discussing, well, venting about his legal situation. Elias had relayed the information he'd received from William to his long time friend, but Even wasn’t surprised, his lawyer had basically told him the same thing. So, when the newly expecting parents came by the gym to discuss the New Year’s card with Elias, it quickly devolved into the three lamenting the circumstances their mutual friend was in.

“So the whole follow up lawsuit it bullshit?”, William asked. Even sighed and nodded.

“Pretty much. I guess her idea was if I’m too busy dealing with this one, then there's no way I’m fighting a custody battle.”

Noora's eyes compressed into slits. She had never really had much of an opinion about Iben Sandberg back in the day, but she certainly did now.

“So after eight years, she decides she wants to be in her own daughters life again?”

Even turned to respond to the question.

“Maybe. Although it was about the time I started working at StavMAC. That was back around twenty-fourteen. Me and Iben had always been cordial. We were both ok with how everything happened. It’s not like I was keeping Lilli from her mother or something. But, for whatever reason, she decided she wants to be a part of her life a year after I was working at Stavanger.”

William spoke up now.

“Didn't you stop competing in grappling tournaments around twenty-fifteen?”

“I did. I had a nice little nut saved up in sponsorship and win money.”

“I ain’t saying she's a gold digger…” The group's eyes shifted to Elias as he said this.

He held his hands up defensively.

“What? I’m not. But you gotta admit it is a bit weird.”

Even snorted at the idea.

“Iben knew how much I was making, she could've picked a far more lucrative target if that were the case. No, I think it’s because….well….”

The tall blonde suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“Listen, Iben's dad was in poor health around that time, so I think she wanted them to actually meet before he died.”

Noora looked at Even cautiously.

“Your daughter never knew one of her grandfathers?”

The jiu-jitsu instructor shrugged before responding.

“Iben never seemed intent on getting them to meet one another. And Lilli never brought it up, even though she knew she had another granddad. I think Julian was trying to…..help her deal with her dad’s death. Get some closure. Maybe Lillian and Mr. Sandberg meeting was his way of attempting that. I can’t be sure.”

William was now thoroughly confused.

“Wait, Julian Dahl? Like that me and Noora went to school with?”

“That’s the one,” Elias informed the man, “Him and Iben tied the knot a few years ago.”

“I still don’t understand why she chose to do this now.”, Noora exclaimed.

Even stated he wasn’t sure either, only that he wished she would stop.

Like you don’t know exactly why she's doing this Even.

Eventually, the four started discussing the New Year's card. One of the things William and Noora loved about being the owners of a smaller mma promotion was the relationships they had with different gyms. They got to know the fighters and coaches, got to work with them to make the best, most exciting matchups. Over the years the pair had come to develop their own favorite gyms and fighter’s, although this bias wasn’t carried over into the business side of things. The friends were breaking down the lineup of the card when Even asked a question.

“Isak has the first fight on the main card right?”

“He does”, Noora replied, “He’s fighting Agmir Holvien. Don’t tell the little viking, but Agmir's actually retiring after this fight.”

Elias eyes widened.

“Seriously?”

William responded to him with a confirming nod.

“Yep. I mean, the guy's a few years shy of forty, has won multiple Muay Thai championships, had a great run in Cage Warriors. I don’t blame him. Not an easy fight for Isak though.”

“Tell me about it.”, Elias sighed.

“I think you guys might be surprised.”, Even said, a sly smile spread across his lips.

The gym owner clapped him on the back.

“Hey, I hope you're right man, for your own sake.”

The friends shared a laugh before William and Noora informed them they had a prenatal appointment to get to. Even left the small office shortly after, getting ready before Isak came by the gym for their training session. He'd talk to the younger martial artist afterward, make everything copacetic. If Even had learned anything during his time training fighters, it was that having any unresolved issues between coach and student going into a bout was a great way to lose. And Even didn't plan on losing.

|

Torsdag 

Desember 20th, 2018

21:21

Isak and Even were laid across from each other; Isak in his long sleeve, Under Armour compression shirt and loose training shorts and Even in his 10th Planet skeleton shirt of the same style. Each man was breathing hard and deep. Their training session was productive. Even had figured out the best way to keep Isak engaged was to make their grappling a game. It’s almost like I’m teaching the kids. He'd set a timer on his phone to go off everyone two minutes. For every two minutes that Isak could defend a submission from Even, he got a point. And those points went towards a goal. In this case, it was Isak getting to use the steam room and shower first. Isak didn’t reach his goal.

“You got”, Isak paused to inhale harshly, “Lucky old man. I almost had you like…fucking five times.”

Even laughed through his own heavy breathing.

“Yeah you did. But I won out in the end huh? Experience beats enthusiasm young one.”

Sitting up, Isak scoffed at his jiu-jitsu coach.

“Please, you know if that was on the feet I would’ve picked you apart.”

“Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

The two shared a laugh before a silence fell over them. The only sounds were the hum of the heater and the low volume of the Japanese funk Even had put on the stereo system. It was slowly growing on Isak. Now would be a perfect time for that apology Isak. The younger blonde's inner voice vaguely sounded like Sana. He cleared his throat and turned to see Even still laying on the mat, his breath now back under control.

“Hey Even, um, could we talk about….about what happened a couple weeks ago?”

The older man's eyes opened and met Isak's. They were their usual warm, slightly glossy blue.

“We can. But it’ll have to wait until after I shower. And don’t worry, I won’t use all the hot water.”

The boys smiled at one another before bring interrupted by a disgruntled Feliciana.

“Actually, you won’t be using any hot water Even.”

“Shit”, Isak lamented, “Is the fucking hot water heater broken again?”

“Yep. Second time in a two months.”

Even sighed and flopped back onto his back.

“I was really looking forward to almost falling asleep in there and having Isak yell at me for using all the hot water.”

“Hey, you said you wouldn’t use it all!”

Even shrugged and smiled at Isak.

“Yeah, not knowingly.”

Feliciana informed the other two she’d be washing up at home and bid them adieu. Even got to his feet, pulling on his jacket and jeans. Isak made sure to look away while the other man was dressing himself.

“We can still talk, if you’d like.”

Isak waited until Even was looking at him and gave a small nod.

Once the two were dressed appropriately for the nipping cold of Norwegian winter, Isak decided to begin his apology.

“Listen, Even. I’m sorry…..well I’m sorry I was an asshole basically. I didn’t know what you were going through, and I guess because I’ve seen so many people in the gym really work their way up that me not seeing when you were doing that….”, Isak paused to gather his thoughts “Well I shouldn’t have assumed that you were successful because someone was pulling strings for you. So….yeah…I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted Isak.”

The shorter boy was somewhat shocked.

“Wait, really? That's it?”

Even nodded slowly.

“That’s it. We were both emotional. Neither of us were thinking very clearly. People say things they don’t mean when they're not thinking clearly.”

A few long seconds of silence dragged on before Isak raised the question he really wanted to ask.

“When did you have a kid?”

“When I was young and dumb. I wouldn’t undo it for the world though. My daughter's mother and I decided to have the baby, but it became clear after the first year that she didn’t want to be in our child's life. She was in school at the time and I was traveling pretty extensively for my jiu-jitsu career. For the first few years of her life she was raised by me and my parents. After I stopped competing in tournaments I was able to dedicate more time to her.”

“Why did you lose custody of her?”

Isak realized how rude the question was immediately after he asked it.

“Fuck, Even, I’m sorry, you don’t um….shit.”

Even consoled Isak.

“It's ok Isak. I’m um, I’m not really comfortable talking about that with you. With anyone to be honest. Not….not right now anyway.”

“Absolutely. I totally understand. Anyways um….I guess what I’m really sorry for is being so judgmental. Calling you a spoiled rich kid and everything.”

Even laughed while answering.

“You weren’t entirely wrong.”

“Seriously?”

Even smiled big and shrugged then nodded.

“Me and my friends got up to some pretty stupid shit when I was around your age. I’m sure having parents who were fairly generous in regards to my….” Even titled his head back and forth, trying to pinpoint the phrase, “Spending money helped me out in that.”

Isak was intrigued now.

Sana did say I should ask him about him and his friends antics when he was my age.

“How so?”

Even smiled and motioned Isak over to sit on a short stack of folding mats, looking like a father getting ready to regale his child with a fantastical tale.

“So I was seventeen and had just won my first black belt tournament in Osaka. Me, Elias, my friend Mikael and Mikael's cousin were all celebrating. Mikael sees this adorable Japanese girl right? Like crushes super hard right away you know?”

Oh, I know.

Isak nodded, listening attentively.

“So, we finally convince Mikki to go talk to this girl and it turns out she doesn't speak any Norwegian. Shocker there right? Anyways, as the night goes on she sort of melds into our group and we all start getting pretty tipsy on sake and whiskey.”

A disgusted expression formed on Isak's face. Even laughed.

“Not mixed together! Anyways the girl tells Mikki, using me as a shitty drunken translator, that she has to catch a flight back to Okinawa later that night. Now, Mikael's cousin, Zara, has and uncle who owns a small, private airport on the edge of Osaka bay.”

Isak put the pieces together quickly, initially gasping and then laughing in disbelief.

“Even, you didn't!”

“I didn't! But Mikki and Zara convinced me, Elias, and this girl they knew what they were doing. So, we….borrowed this little puddle jumper and piled in.”

“They flew a fucking plane drunk!?”

Isak couldn’t tell whether Even was fabricating the story or not.

“I mean….drunk is a harsh word Isak. Pleasantly buzzed maybe?”

Both martial artists erupted with laughter before Even continued.

“So apparently Mikael and Zara’s aerial navigation skills left something to be desired.”

“Oh no”, Isak paused to laugh, “What happened?”

“Well, the flight ended up being longer than it should’ve been, but of course none of us noticed that. Anyways, we ended up sort of semi crash landing in this poor rice farmer's field. And we weren’t even on Okinawa, we were on this other island called Ishigaki.”

The boy’s giggled with one another again. Even resumed the story.

“Isak, oh my God. He was soooooo pissed at us!”

“No shit! I would be too!”

“He chased out of his rice field with a katana dude. Like, I know it sounds stereotypical or whatever, but it really happened! The Japanese girl that was with us told me he was calling us a bunch of foreign, motherless, cowardly animals. It was fucking crazy Isak.”

“Did the girl get back to Okinawa?”

Even nodded rapidly.

“She did. And the Okinawan police we waiting for us when we got there. Oh man, that was a fun one to explain our parents.”

Isak gave Even a wide, genuine smile. The one he gave people he trusted and respected.

“And why has Elias never mentioned this?”

Even shrugged.

“Probably because that whole experience haunts him to this day.”

Both men shared another round of guffaws before their laughter died down. As they were locking up the gym, Even heading towards his car and Isak toward the tram stop, the older man called out to his student.

“Isak!”

“Yeah?”, Isak replied.

“I enjoyed that. I think we should talk like that more often….you know…just chill.”

Isak felt a smile creep across his face and he nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah we should. Good night Even.”

Even returned the smile.

“Good night Isak.”

  Stuff for the fic

1. Norwegian Custody Laws – I’m basing Even's legal situation on Norway’s child custody laws, which are pretty similar to America's in a lot of ways.

2. Ishigaki- A small Japanese island known for producing high yields of great quality rice.

3. Isak's Under Armour shirt

4. Even's 10th Planet shirt

5. 10th Planet – A California based, international Brazilian Jiu-jitsu academy. The academy was started by a famous practitioner named Eddie Bravo. The Norwegian academy is located in Bergen.

6. Even's Japanese Funk song

Chapter Text

Lørdag

Desember 29th, 2018

21:51

Chris had finished wrapping Isak’s hands a few minutes ago when the event tech came in and told them they had fifteen minutes till showtime. The striking coach had gone with a wrapping technique that gave Isak's fingers a bit more wiggle room. It would come in handy for the amount of grappling the younger man planned to do in his impending contest. Currently, he was going over take down setups off punches with Elias, the older man trying to bait Isak with long jabs and Isak feinting to get inside before dropping down to secure an implied single leg. Isak knew it wouldn’t be that easy in the fight, but it at least helped to calm his nerves. As the coach and student were working on Isak setting up trips in the clinch, the event tech came back into the room. It was time.

As Isak allowed Chris to put his gloves on for him and secure the velcro around his wrist, he shot a glance to Even. The other man gave him a small smile and a nod. Isak smiled back. With his gloves on and his blood pumping at a nice, even pace, Isak slid his sandals on, got in front of everyone and opened the door. A few moments later the fighter got to the hallway that led out into the main atrium of the arena, flanked by Oslo Athletic Commission officers and a policewoman. The policewoman gave Isak a tight, but genuine smile, “Good luck kid.” With that, Isak heard the a cappella rhyming of Prodigy, the intro to Mobb Deep's “Shook Ones Part Two” blaring throughout the arena’s p.a. system.

Word up son, word

Yeah, to all the killers and the hundred dollar billers

For real niggas who ain’t got no feelings

Check it out now

As soon as the haunting beat struck Isak's eardrums his entire demeanor changed. During his walk to the cage, everything else besides the task at hand eroded away. Isak Valtersen ceased to exist for any other reason than to soundly defeat his opponent. His sole purpose now was to make all the weeks of training, the hours of sweat and exertion, worthwhile. To make his team and his gym proud. Isak arrived at the ref station right below the short stair step up to the cage. He removed his shirt and sandals before the cutman applied Vaseline to his cheeks and eyebrows. He then spread his arms to allow the official to complete his insppection. As the featherweight was being checked over by the ref, the song had reached it's hook.

Son, they shook

Cause ain’t no such things as halfway crooks

Scared to death and scared to look

They shook

Cause ain't no such things as halfway crooks

Scared to death and scared to look

As the hook concluded, the ref finished his check and Isak gave all three of his cornermen a hug before entering the decagon. He took his ritual skipping jog around the cage, letting the fingertips on his right hand brush over the fence before settling into his designated corner. The walkout song faded out and the noise of the packed crowd was all Isak could hear for a few seconds. Then a jovial, jazzy piano began to play, accented by loud horns. The fighter was vaguely aware of Chris laughingly asking Elias, “Dude, is that the fucking Austin Powers theme song?”

Agmir Holvien was as relaxed as any man who was about to go fight in a cage could be. He was shuffling along to the beat, bobbing his head and smiling widely at the crowd who answered him back with a loud cheer and round of clapping. The veteran mixed martial artist reached the ref station just as the song was peaking, dancing his eyebrows to the beat. Once his own Vaseline had been applied and the referee's check was finished, Agmir entered the cage and did a heel to heel skip around the mat, fist bumping Isak along the way. Eskild entered the decagon to introduce the fighters.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Ekeberghallen Sports Arena, are you ready for the first fight on tonight’s main card?”

A near deafening roar responded back from the crowd enthusiastically. Eskild smiled as he looked over to Isak and gave him a wink and a smile. Isak returned the smile with one of his own and gave a slight nod to the announcer. It was a little routine the pair had been doing stretching back to Isak's first fight as an amateur. The featherweight wouldn't admit it if anyone asked, but it did quell his nerves a bit.

“Fighting”, Eskild started dramatically, “Out of the blue corner. This man is a mixed martial artist with a professional record of two wins and one loss.”

Eskild held out the o in loss.

“He stands at one point eight meters, and weighed in at the featherweight limit of sixty-six point two kilos,” Eskild said matter-of-factly,” Oslo, let’s hear some applause for….”

Eskild paused, allowing the anticipation of the crowd to build. Isak was fairly well known to the Ekeberghallen crowd at this point, but Eskild's showmanship was still appreciated.

“Isak, The Little Viking, Valtersen!”

The crowd erupted into cheers and claps. Isak felt a familiar shiver down his spine. The redheaded announcer then spun around to introduce Isak's competition.

“Fighting out of the red corner,” Eskild spoke with a smooth, measured tone, “This man is a Muay Thai based fighter holding a professional record of seven wins and two losses.”

He then went back to the jokingly smug voice when listing Agmir's attributes.

“He stands at one point seven meters and weighed in at exactly sixty-six kilos, ladies and gentlemen, presenting the two time Nordic Muay Thai championship winner….”

The air was electrified as Eskild held the pause just under what would've been too long.

“Agmir, The Angel of Death, Holvien!”

The announcer then introduced the referee.

“And your official for this featherweight bout is Mr. Jan Mirdek.”

The ref gave an acknowledging wave to the crowd. With both fighter’s and the ref announced, Eskild took his leave from the cage and the doors were locked.

The official looked to Isak.

“Blue are you ready?”

Isak gave a singular nod.

The ref turned to his opponent.

“Red are you ready?”

Agmir smiled and nodded.

The referee stepped back, placing his hand in a vertical position out in front of himself.

“Fight!”

Isak Valtersen’s fourth professional mixed martial arts fight was officially underway.

Stuff for the fic 

 1. Isak's Fight Shorts and gloves

2. Agmir's Fight Shorts and gloves

3.Isak's Walkout Song

4. Agmir's Walkout Song

5. Fighter Rituals - As banal or trivial as it may seem, small things like running around the cage or touching it can have a huge effect on a fighter's mindset. Fighter's, in my opinion, have the most unique psychological profiles in sports because of the innate danger of their sport(s) and because they're competing by themselves. If y'all wanna find out more about fighter psychology, check out Vinny Shoreman or Stephen Ladd.

6. 66.2 kgs - 146 lbs

Chapter Text

Ekeberghallen Sports Arena

Nordstrand, Oslo

December 29th

22:03

Round 1

The two competitors met in the center of the cage, touching their open left hands together. As they pulled back, Agmir faked a turn of his hips as if he were about to throw a kick, causing Isak to react to the faux strike. Agmir flashed a quick smile at his opponent and Isak made a show of shrugging his shoulders, returning a closed lip smile of his own in acknowledgment. To anyone who wasn’t familiar with the striking aspect of the sport, it may have appeared that Agmir was just goofing on Isak a little, making him react to get in his head a bit. While that was a possibility, Isak knew the real reason behind what he was doing was to data chunk Isak's reaction, filing it away to be used against him later.

After the men had exchanged their mild antics, Agmir fired off a heavy kick to Isak's lead left leg. The taller fighter was able to catch the worst of it on his own shin, effectively nullifying the strike, but just nearly weaved out of the way of a follow up left hook from the other competitor. Isak, threw a left jab just as Agmir whipped another kick at Isak's left leg, this time using his lead leg. The younger fighter landed his jab, but the snap on it was diminished from the kick he unsuccessfully checked. The kick wasn’t particularly brutal, but over the course of the next fifteen minutes he knew they would add up quickly.

Agmir then switched to southpaw and threw a fast, bursting combination; right jab, left hook feint to the body, finishing with an angled straight right hand as he moved to his left that caught Isak just under his right eye. He’d rolled with the shot relatively well, but was still able to feel the lingering power in the strike. Isak responded with a quick, snapping kick to the inner calf of Agmir's lead leg, his shin smashing into the difficult to condition tissue. The older man's leg seemed to buckle for just a second as Isak dipped off to his right, however Agmir timed Isak's follow up right hand perfectly and rushed into clinching range.

The blonde could feel the strength of his opponent as he secured his right arm around the back of his neck, the crook of his elbow sitting just above Isak's collar bone on his left side. He brought his right forearm up, intending to prevent Agmir from advancing in the clinch, but the more experienced fighter reacted too fast for Isak to defend. He wrapped the younger martial artist’s right arm up with his left, the crease of the limb tightening several inches up from Isak's elbow. This was exactly what the newly professional fighter had been training to prevent.

Isak tried to weave his left hand in over top of Agmir's right arm to break his grip, however as Isak thought he was about to accomplish this, the older man created just enough space between the two to slash a right elbow at Isak’s face. He was as able to move his head away since Agmir was no longer controlling his neck and caught the strike with the very tip of his nose. If Isak wasn’t breathing hard already, he would've let out a sigh of relief. Just as Isak was reversing their position and securing his left arm around the back of Agmir's head, the Muay Thai champion swiftly adjusted his hips away from Isak's and threw a right knee at the other's gut.

Isak had to reposition and unsquared his hips to avoid being hit with the full brunt of the strike, but as he did the shorter fighter used the outside of his right leg to hook behind Isak's left forcing him off balance. As he was attempting to regain his position, the younger man was driven back into the fence. It was by no means ideal, but it was better than being tripped and taken down. The men were now engaged in a battle of head position, Agmir tilting his own head down a bit in a attempt to drive it under Isak's chin and begin to disrupt his balance on the cage. Isak was moving his head back and forth, angling in a way that his opponent couldn’t capitalize on.

Abandoning the jockeying for head position, the older fighter shifted his hips slightly to the right, thrusting his knee into his opponent's right thigh, hoping to soften Isak and get him to move. Isak's thighs may not have been conditioned to the level of Agmir's, but it was going to take more then a few well aimed knees to get him to move. The other fighter sensed this and quickly changed his strategy. He slipped his right arm from around Isak's neck, keeping it close to the other competitor's chest before thrusting up with his elbow, the outside edge of his hand facing the ceiling. With his head free, Isak was able to lean his head to the right and counter over the top of Agmir's elbow strike with his own, landing a glancing, but precise blow across the other man’s right eyebrow. The area began to redden quickly.

Abandoning the undertook Agmir had on Isak's right arm, the two men separated, but not before Isak stepped forward to nullify a lighting fast right high kick his opponent threw off the break. Although he'd successfully avoided the strike, the younger fighter had walked right into a left hook, thankfully however, he was able to roll with the worst of it. A quick glance at the clock told Isak there were under two minutes left in the round. The previous minutes had been fairly even, but apart from his elbow in the clinch and a few other cleanly landed strikes, the positioning, pace, and movement had all been controlled by Agmir. Isak knew he needed something significant if he wanted to win the round. The two adversaries moved back into the center of the cage, Isak firing off his jab, baiting Agmir into countering. As he did the former Muay Thai champion landed another kick on the calf of Isak's lead leg. There was significantly more power on this one, but the younger fighter couldn’t be bothered with thinking about Agmir's power right now.

As he went to follow up with a left cross, Isak was able to strike over the top of Agmir's punch with a right hand, catching him cleanly on the end of the strike. The older man wasn’t wobbled, but he had been caught somewhat by surprise. Isak took advantage of this and shot in for a takedown, grounding himself on his left knee before wrapping his right arm around Agmir's waist and his left high up on his opponent's right thigh. He tried to stand up and hoist the shorter man into the air, but the veteran had already anticipated this and was able to use his left leg to hop backwards until he was pressed back against the fence, now in the opposite position he'd been in previously. Isak tried to hook the inside of the elder fighter's left leg with his right heel as he turned off the cage to his left, but Agmir was able to throw a few short yet effective left elbows across Isak's cheek, forcing the other fighter to abandon his hold on the man’s right leg and causing them to break again. As they did however, Isak was able to time a hard kick to Agmir's left thigh, the other man not having enough time to react after he'd put his foot back down.

Isak attempted to proceed with a right straight, but Agmir was able to duck his head to the left and move away from his opponent just as the buzzer indicating the end of the round went off. The ref stepped in between the two fighters and each man went back to his corner. Isak sat down heavily on the small stool Elias provided him with after he and Chris had entered the cage. Even had elected to stay outside, but was pressed against the fence, ready to dispense advice to his fighter. Chris spoke first, pressing a bag of ice to the slight bruising already starting to show around Isak's left leg as Elias held another one to the back of his neck.

“That was a close round man, but I like what I saw. If you clinch with him again, try and land that elbow. If you can open up that scar tissue around his right eye that would be great for us. And that trip off the cage will work, but I need you to keep your head closer to his chest. That'll take away the short elbow as well.”

Even nodded and then spoke up.

“He’s right Isak, and when you pull him off the cage, don’t worry if you can’t get your heel completely behind his leg, you just need to make his knee straighter than yours. Elias, what you got?”

The gym owner smiled at Isak, nodding as he spoke.

“Boxing looked great that round bro, and your jab is landing, but he’s using that leg kick to get in range. When you land your jab, I want you following up, he can't throw that kick nearly as hard if he's moving away from your punches.”

The other two coaches nodded in agreement as Even gave one final piece of advice.

“Oh, and when you're moving him back that left leg is wide open Isak, you don’t have to get to the cage to set up the trip.”

Chris gave the fighter a few sips of water as the ref walked over and informed Isak's coaches they needed to exit the cage. The men got up, but not before Chris gave their fighter a few words of encouragement.

“You got this little viking!”, Chris yelled as he was leaving the decagon, “I wanna see some fucking blood this round!”

Isak knew he'd meant it as somewhat of a joke, a bit of a reprieve from an otherwise intense situation. Had Isak just been sparring or drilling technique in the gym, he would’ve been amused. In his current state of mind however, Isak took it as a challenge. This was actually, unbeknownst to the featherweight, Chris's true intention behind the statement. Although if it only helped his fighter relax and settle into a groove easier, the kickboxer would celebrate that outcome as well. The fighters prepared themselves for the second round as both their teams stepped out of the cage. The referee came back to the center, looking to each martial artist separately and asking if they were ready. Each responded affirmatively. The official nodded and began the second frame of the contest.

“Round two, fight!”

Round 2

Isak immediately implemented Elias's advice, doubling up on a snapping jab before timing Agmir and landing a right hook as the other fighter was leaning away from the punch. Although he was able to land, since his target was moving away, Isak had overreached with his hand and the older fighter was able to feint a punch with his left. This made the taller competitor raise his hands up defensively, but he left his midsection open for a stabbing, powerful front kick that landed just under his sternum, compressing his diaphragm and briefly knocking the wind out of him. As Isak backed up defensively Agmir swung a lunging lead left hook, but the other man saw it for what it was; a chance to get back in the clinch.

Isak timed his shot off the punch, angling his head down and meeting the veteran combatant by scooping up his open lead leg. With his head pushed firmly into the center of Agmir's chest, the other man had no range with which to throw effective strikes. As the other mixed martial artist hoped back towards the cage, Isak was able to extend his right leg behind Agmir's left. The older man’s backward momentum did Isak's work for him as his second leg was taken out from under him and both fighters were sent falling to the mat. Agmir had enough awareness to pull Isak into his guard as the two landed, throwing his legs around the other man's waist and hooking his feet together. Isak had watched enough footage of the other fighter to know he was no slouch on the ground, but he was confident in his own skills as well.

The shorter man unhooked his legs from Isak's waist, trying to position them on the younger man's hips so he could push the other fighter away and stand up. Isak knew what Agmir was attempting and raised himself up as he was unhooking his legs, able to get his right hand underneath the older fighter's left leg. Isak knew he had to be cautious not to accidentally sink himself into a submission and so he made sure to keep his left arm on the outside of Agmir's other leg. Moving backwards, the taller featherweight dipped his head, shifted his hips to the right, and threw the older fighter's right leg over his own body. He then landed a short, hard right elbow across Agmir’s eyebrow before the man could shift his own hips back over and move out of the way. Isak noticed a small trickle of blood begin to run from his opponent's right eyebrow as he reset to throw another strike. Agmir used the time for this setup to shift his hip to the left and scoot back to the fence.

Isak was on him like glue though, instantly settling a knee between the other man’s legs since he was unable to establish mount. The older fighter had some well rounded defensive jiu-jitsu, Isak would give him that. Being the taller fighter, Isak couldn’t get his own head under Agmir's chin to control his head in their current position, but he was able to trap the shorter fighter's wrist and hand to the mat with his right hand secured firmly around the other's left. Agmir threw a few short shots to the left side of Isak's head, but there was no power behind them. The men were in somewhat of a stalemate and the annoying yet ineffective punches were mainly to get Isak to move. He did eventually, shifting his head to the right and pressing it against the left side of Agmir's jaw. The other fighter moved his head to relieve the pressure and Isak was able to land a short hook left hook.

While he was a bit distracted with getting off more strikes on his opponent, Isak didn't notice that the former Muay Thai champion had snuck his right leg up to his left hip. As the younger featherweight prepared to throw another short hook, Agmir timed him and pushed Isak off balance as hard as he could. The result was Isak slipping and missing his punch and the older fighter moving his hips to the left along the fence and then quickly standing up. As he was doing this, Isak had recovered and when Agmir was stood back up fully the taller fighter fired off a fast high kick aimed for his opponent's head. Then other fighter was able block it as he moved away from the strike, catching the brunt of it on the glove and forearm of his left hand. Isak then threw a follow up jab, just missing Agmir before timing him with a right uppercut to the body as he moved his head to avoid the previous punch. Chris would be proud, Isak had opened up a small cut on his opponent and was starting to settle into a bit of a groove as well.

When Isak went for a follow up left hand, Agmir leaned off to his own left side, stepping deep into Isak's space and drastically reducing the power any follow up shots might have. Before he could move away from his opponent to reset, Isak found himself on the receiving end of a right elbow. Agmir inverted his arm as he moved, landing the strike vertically in the same spot he'd caught Isak in round one. Although this time the other fighter hadn’t gotten out of the way in time and had caught the elbow flush on his right cheek. The older man appeared to have rocked his younger opponent for a second and it was now Isak initiating the clinch. Agmir kept moving forward until Isak found himself in the same position from round one. He chanced a look at the clock and felt relieved there was almost less than a minute left. Confident he'd won the round due to his takedown and effective combinations, Isak decided to coast till then timer ran out.

This would prove to be a mistake however as Agmir began working to pull his opponent off the fence. Thinking he was trying to break from the clinch, Isak went with him. As he moved backwards, the shorter man pitched his hips off to the left, placing his right leg in front off Isak's left and torqueing his body. Isak was sent sprawling to the floor of the cage, but because he had clung on so tightly to the other fighter he was actually able to roll through and ended up in half guard with Agmir. His left leg was settled in between the other man's, wrapped around his right in an attempt to control the fighter on the bottom. Agmir was wise to Isak however and yanked his head down to his chest, locking his fingers behind his head and keeping his elbows close together. This would make it nearly impossible for the taller man to get off any significant strikes as he'd need to posture up before he did so.

Isak was finally able to break free after several seconds and begin reigning down punches, but Agmir shifted his head and torso to the side, catching one of the shots under his right arm and trapping it. He swiftly brought his right leg underneath Isak's left armpit, securing it around his upper back. As he tried to shift his left leg to the inside however, the taller fighter was able to grasp Agmir’s ankle tightly, compressing his leg up to his chest uncomfortably and raising up on the balls of his feet to try and throw a few more punches. The older man was able to move enough so that nothing significant landed, but Isak knew he couldn't underestimate his opponent's ground game anymore. Isak wasn't able to land a shot, Agmir did catch him with a glancing up kick on the jaw though, turning the other fighter's head to the left and throwing him off balance. The two men stood up quickly, ready to reengage before the official called time, each competitor heading back to his own corner.

Isak sat on the stool and let out a long, heavy breath. As the cutman began applying a cold compress to the swelling under the featherweight’s right eye, Even gave his advice.

“That was a close round, really close, but that takedown won it for us. If you can't stop him getting to the fence, when he does you need to control his legs Isak. Try and secure them with your own, don’t worry about getting mount. If you can't, then control him on the fence, sit off to one side and then drag him down when he’s trying to get back up.”

Chris gave a confirming nod to Even before speaking to his fighter.

“Good recovery from that elbow and I like how you rolled through on that trip. He’s starting to time your jab though, so I want you following up with legs kicks ok? Mix it up with your striking and don’t be afraid to go to the body. Oh, and aim at that cut, it’s starting to open up a little more.”

Elias fixed Isak with a smile and enthusiastic nod.

“That was great little viking! You kept him off balance for most of the round and he wasn't able to get anything going. But you need to start using your reach advantage ok? Start catching him on the end of your shots. And like Chris said, mix it up in there, have some fun. You’ve got this one Isak!”

The boxing coach gave his fighter an affectionate pat and squeeze on the shoulder, exiting the competition area before the young fighter rose from his seat and prepared for the third and final round. The referee called the two from their respective corners and looked to each of them.

“Gentlemen, final round, good luck. Fight!”

Round 3

Each fighter had a round a piece and was determined to cinch up the win. They moved around one another cautiously for the first thirty seconds or so. Isak threw his jab, elongating it a bit more than he had been. Agmir parried the shot, catching it on the inside of his hand and directing it off to his right side before stepping into Isak and landing a crushing kick across the front younger fighter's thigh. Isak turned to reposition, but hadn’t kept his hand up and caught a long right straight with his mouth as he moved backwards. Agmir came forward, firing off a left hook to the body that Isak rolled with. As he was moving off to his own left side however, his opponent caught him slipping and landed a debilitating right knee in Isak's solar plexus. The taller featherweight was sucking air, backed up against the cage trying to recover when Agmir reset, throwing a jab that snapped his head back. Isak had been caught with several cleanly landed strikes, but he still had his wits about him.

In his periphery, the less experienced fighter noticed Agmir setting up a right hook to the body. He knew the spinning elbow would follow, and timed the older man perfectly. As he spun to land the powerful strike, Isak ducked under his arm, pulling both the other fighter’s legs together and sucking them up off the mat while he drove his head into Agmir's chest and pushed forward. The shorter competitor, thinking he was close to ending the fight, had been completely taken off guard and was now on his back. Isak had been able to use the element of surprise to his advantage and swiftly stepped off to the side when the two landed, his legs now on the outside of Agmir's hips. The younger man slipped his right hand underneath and behind his opponent's head, letting himself get a much needed recovery. Agmir was trying to induce a scramble, but Isak laid heavy on him, restricting the other's movement.

When he'd cleared the cobwebs, Isak began attempting to mount the shorter fighter, but he had his right knee raised high to his chest, preventing his competitor from doing so. Agmir shifted his hips out to his right, but Isak was ahead of him, snapping the older man's head down to the mat, his arms wrapped tightly around the other featherweight’s head, the inside points of his elbows nearly touching. As he did this Isak broke his own grip, sliding the forearm of his left arm under Agmir's chin and pulling guard, quickly pushing his hips closer to other fighter's before flopping to his back and tightly wrapping his legs around his opponent's waist. He then pulled Agmir's head forward and down while bridging his hips and torso up, trying to submit his fellow fighter with a guillotine choke. The men were sweating profusely however and Agmir was able to pop his head up from the other's grip, a smear of blood now staining Isak's chest from the older man's cut.

Agmir was now in the position Isak had been in the round before, showering Isak with a plethora of punches and elbows. The taller man was able to deflect most of the strikes off his forearms, but he knew if he didn't move the fight would be stopped. Deciding to setup a submission, Isak caught one of Agmir's punches as he was pulling it back from where it had landed on the canvas. He clung to Agmir's right arm like a leech before moving his left leg up the older man's back and popping it over his head. The action lead the other fighter right into Isak's trap as he turned to his left. If he tried to go to his right, Agmir knew the younger featherweight would simply slide his other leg in between them, extending his legs out and securing an arm bar. In trying to avoid the arm bar, Agmir had given up his back. Isak moved his left leg back up over the other's head, pulling his back into his chest as Agmir attempted to lean forward in an attempt to get away.

Isak now had his legs wrapped firmly around his opponent's front, his right stretched across the shorter fighter's lower midsection and the back crease of his left held tightly over his right foot. Every time Agmir drew a breath, Isak tightened the body triangle, not unlike a boa constrictor. Now that he'd secured the triangle, it was a fight for the choke. The Muay Thai practitioner had better choke defense than Isak thought he would however, constantly trapping one of his hands beneath his armpit and holding onto it with two hands. A frustrated look at the clock told Isak he should have enough time to find the choke, but it remained to be seen. Agmir kept leaning forward, forcing the other man to pull him back. The pair went through this hand fighting, leaning, and pulling routine several times over the course of the next ninety seconds.

More than once Agmir gave an exasperated glance to the referee, nonverbally asking for a standup. But bother fighter’s, while in somewhat of a stalemate, were still very active; Isak constantly searching for the finish and Agmir constantly defending. The younger fighter began attempting to roll is opponent onto his front, trying to flatten him out to work the choke in, but was unable to get enough momentum to do so. The round ended with the two in the same deadlocked position, Isak unlocking his legs and rolling to his back, his body bruised, beaten, and exhausted and his mind blank and content. Agmir was in much the same position, taking a well needed breather before getting to his feet and offering a hand to his fellow mixed martial artist. Isak took it with gratitude, allowing himself to be pulled into the older fighters embrace. The competitors patted each other on the back, shouting over the wildly cheering crowd.

“That was a hell of a scrap kid, thought you had me a few times!”, Agmir yelled happily, his mouth next to Isak's ear.

The other fighter heaved out a laugh and nodded.

“Dude, I thought you had me a few times. That elbow had me fucked up!”

“You got yours in too brother. I’m gonna need some stitches after this one!”

“Sorry bout that man, had a promise to keep to my coach!”

“Hey, no worries. Wouldn’t be here if I was afraid of my own blood would I?”

The fighter's shared a laugh, each of their corner teams flooding into the cage to congratulate them on a well fought bout and to hear the decision. Isak and Agmir stood on opposite sides of the ref, each hoping his hand would be raised. Eskild stepped into the decagon after receiving the decision from the judges. He gave a wide eyed glance to the blonde mouthing a “wow” before bringing the microphone up to his mouth, the Oslo crowd settling to a dull roar.

“How about that to start off the main card!”

A resounding cheer rang throughout the arena, bringing a smile to the announcer’s face.

“Ladies and gentlemen, after a grueling three rounds we have a decision from the judges. This fight has been scored thirty twenty-seven, twenty-nine twenty-seven, and thirty twenty-seven, for your winner by unanimous decision…….”

Eskild held the crowd, and fighters, in suspense. He shifted his eyes back and forth between the competitor's, a small smile breaking over his face as he relieved the tension in the cage and arena.

“Isak, The Little Viking, Valtersen!”

Isak immediately dropped to the canvas, tears gathering in his eyes. He hadn’t expected to have such an emotional reaction to winning, but the truth was he had been through a lot in the past seven weeks, physically and otherwise. He raised up when he felt Agmir pulling him up and hugging him.

“Save the tears for the title belt kid.”, the older said affectionately.

Isak laughed and nodded as Agmir went on to congratulate his cornermen on a great fight and win. The three men rushed Isak, wrapping him up in a huge celebratory hug before hoisting him above their heads while they celebrated. Isak was laughing and smiling, his body and brain on cloud nine. He spotted Tobias in middle of the front row. His cheeks were flushed from cheering and a look of awe shown in his eye. Isak giggled at the younger's face and gave him a wink with his right, trying to hide his discomfort. The hazel eyed boy reflected the giggle and responded with an open mouthed smile. Isak Valtersen had just defeated the toughest opponent in his professional mixed martial arts career, but he had another fight to win as well. One that couldn't been won inside the cage.

Stuff for the fic

1. Scoring in MMA - I'll be using the unified rules of MMA for this fic which are based on the 10 point must system from boxing. This means the winner of each round will get 10 or less points and the losing opponent will get  9 or less. Most rounds, unless a draw, will result in 10-9 rounds.

The rounds are scored on:

Effective striking and grappling, aggression, and control of the fighting space, i.e. the cage.

In this chapter, the scoring was as follows.

R1 J1: Isak 9-10 Agmir 10-9, J2: Isak 9-10 Agmir 10-9, J3: Isak 9-10 Agmir 10-9. So this means Isak lost the first round unanimously.

R2 J1: Isak 10-9 Agmir 9-10 J2: Isak 10-9 Agmir 9-10 J3: Isak 9-9  Agmir 9-9. This would mean that one judge scored the round as a draw, but two scored it for Isak so Isak wins this round.

R3 J1: Isak 10-9 Agmir 9-10 J2: Isak 10-9 Agmir 9-10 J3: Isak 10-9 Agmir 9-10. This means Isak won this round unanimously. 

This brings the final score to 30-27 Agmir, 29-27 Isak, and 30-27 Isak. Had there been one judge who scored a winning card for Agmir, it would be a split decision. If two judges scored the fight a draw, it would be what's called a majority draw. To my knowledge there has never been a full draw, meaning all judges consider the fight a draw, in the history of the UFC. 

2. The Decagon - Because the UFC has a copyright on the octagon as a shape used for mixed martial arts, no other organization is able to use it without their permission. 

Sorry for the boring numbers game hahah, but I hope for whoever read it it helped explain the scoring in the sport a little better!

Chapter Text

23:26

The small room was populated by Isak's cornermen and the post fight doctor. Unbeknownst to the victorious featherweight, he'd sustained a small fracture to his right hand early in the third round. He hadn't even noticed it until the last fight on the card was over and he was pulling his socks on. The doctor was lightly manipulating the last two fingers on Isak's hand, pulling back when the blonde made a noise of discomfort. He turned to talk to Elias.

“Yep. Classic boxer fracture. It's small and horizontal. With a cast or splint, it should heal and set within six weeks, maybe less.”

Isak scoffed behind the doctor.

“Six weeks? I can’t train for six weeks?”

The doctor raised his brows and looked at Isak.

“Sure you can, if you want to make it a full break and not just a fracture. I’m sure your coach would love that.”, the doctor replied sarcastically.

Isak looked back at him, annoyed.

“Thanks doc,” Elias, told the medical professional, “We'll be sure to keep it safe and secure.”

He shot Isak a slightly exasperated glance as he escorted the doctor from the room. The younger man was already showered and dressed in his street clothes. He'd opted to go with his coal grey skinnies and a copper and black flannel over a white undershirt. He’d finished the outfit with a heavy, quilt stitched jacket in a deep red. As he was carefully putting the outerwear on, Chris decided to say what everyone was thinking.

“Well, let's get Isak fixed up and then go get free drinks!”

Isak and the other two chuckled at the kickboxer's bluntness, Elias giving him a good natured shove as the four gathered their belongings and exited the makeshift locker room. As the fighter and his corner men were walking through the hall leading to the back entrance of the arena, Isak caught a flash of curly yet somewhat shorn brown hair and bold eyebrows.

“Jonas?”, Isak asked, an air of hopefulness in his voice.

The brunette turned around abruptly.

“Isak!”, he exclaimed loudly.

The longtime friend's rushed to one another, vaulting themselves into the other's arms and spinning joyfully. When they separated, each had a huge smile on their face.

“I was just looking for you dude! Me and Eva were gonna meet up with you at Bjorn's. I came back here to use the bathroom and thought I saw you, man. Isak, fuck it's good to see you.”

The pair laughed before being interrupted by Even clearing his throat. Isak looked to him questioningly letting out a quiet “oh” before introducing his best friend.

“Even, this is Jonas”, Isak paused to clear his own throat, “My best friend.” It was said as a statement, but Jonas saw the question in his friend's eyes.

The two shook hands, Even delivering an eye crinkling smile.

“Even Bech Naesheim. Isak's grappling coach. And the reason he won his fight.”

Elias and Chris scoffed in tandem, looking at each other then chuckling. Elias saw that the two younger men needed to catch up.

“Hey little viking”, he said, “We're gonna go track that doctor down and get you a splint ok?”

The featherweight smiled and nodded, telling Elias he'd meet up with him and the other two coaches before they left for the bar. A brief silence settled over the pair. Not an awkward or wistful one. Just an…..empty one. It was Jonas who finally spoke up.

“So….”, he began, looking Isak up and down, “You look good.”

The friend's shared another laugh.

“I usually pull off a black eye like nobody's business.”, Isak replied.

This brought forth a chuckle from the other man before he responded.

“Seriously though Isak, finally getting to see you fight, live? And then I get to watch that?”

Jonas made a short whistle, indicating how impressed with Isak's performance he was.

“I mean, I didn’t really get like over half of what was happening, but you looked great man. Really proud of you!”

He placed an arm around Isak, giving the boy a squeeze before letting go. The blonde thanked his friend, noticing the vague glaze over his eyes. He must already be a few beers deep. He suggested they brave the cold while they waited for his cornermen, but Isak also wanted to take a few puffs from his CBD pen. Agmir had chewed up his lead leg, the pain not fully hitting him till several minutes after the contest.

Once the boys had headed outside, Isak retrieved his vape pen from his jacket pocket and took a few puffs. Jonas shot him an imploring look. The fighter giggled, relinquishing the pen and stretching his arms above his head.

“It won’t get you high, by the way.”, Isak informed his friend.

The brunette released a long breath of vapor before giving the item back to Isak.

“What’s it for then?”

“Helps with inflammation.”

“Oh?”

The other boy nodded while exhaling.

“What sort of inflammation?”

A dubious smiled spread across Isak's lips. He hiked up his left pant leg drawing a disgusted expression and noise from Jonas. The featherweight’s lower leg was a patchwork of deep, purplish bruises and red marks, standing out against his pale skin.

“Why didn't it look like that during the fight?”

“My blood was pumping, it probably just looked red.”

There was a momentary lull in the conversation as Isak took one last inhale from his vape. He placed it back into his jacket’s zippered pocket before clearing his throat and speaking again.

“So, how long have you and Eva been back in town?”

Long enough that I wish I had seen you sooner.

Jonas cleared his head and replied.

“Uh just after Christmas actually. We've got a little apartment near the university and she wanted to spend our first Christmas together there. You still shacked up with Eskild?”

“Nah, I moved out when I turned nineteen. I actually live with coach Chris right now.”

“Schistad, “ Jonas said with a knowing nod, “He's not still crushing on Eva is he?”

Isak scrunched up his nose and shook his head.

“I don’t think he ever was to be honest. I think he just liked fucking with you. He doesn't strike me as the Lolita type.” Even though when I was seventeen I wished he was. “Won’t have that problem anymore though huh?”

It took the other man a few moments to get Isak's reference to his engagement.

“Oh, yeah man. Everybody is gonna be at the bar, so we were thinking of breaking the news there.”

Isak nodded, smiling at his friend and then shaking his head, chuckling.

“I can’t believe your getting fucking married dude.”

“It's not like it’s happening tomorrow Isak!”, Jonas responded, laughing along with him.

“Hey.”

The two were interrupted by a small, low pitched voice. Isak turned around immediately breaking into a smile as a bundled up Tobias mirrored his own.

“Hi! I’m so happy you were able to come dude! What'd you think?”

The smaller boy held his hands in his coat pockets as he shrugged.

“To be honest, I was kind of disinterested until your fight. I mean I totally respect all the men and women that fought tonight, but I gotta admit”, He paused, giving Isak a warm, open lipped grin, “It's more enjoyable when you have something at stake. I was freaking out in the beginning of the third.”

“Yeah”, Isak nodded while laughing, “I was too. If he landed that elbow it would've been a wrap.”

Jonas looked between the two young men, a slight scrunch of confusion contorting his face. Isak noticed and quickly explained.

“Oh, uh Jonas this is Tobias . Tobias, Jonas.”

The newly introduced individuals shook hands before Jonas asked how he knew Isak. The blonde swallowed heavily, his face blank but his eyes showing a controlled panic as they flicked over to Tobias.

I’m not ready for that conversation yet.

The younger boy was quick on his feet though, easily covering for Isak.

“I just started doing some kickboxing at Isak's gym. Gotta stay in shape and I can't buy healthy food on a student budget dude.”

The university attendees commiserated with one another, Jonas responding with an, “Amen to that.”, and an amiable fist bump. The trio were interrupted by Elias who had poked his head from the exit door, telling Isak to come inside so they could secure his injured right hand. Jonas took his leave of the other two, letting Isak know he'd be riding with him over to the bar. It was just Isak and Tobias now. The shorter boy cleared his throat, getting Isak's attention as the strode over to the back door of the arena.

“So…”, Tobias started, “Did I just lie because your friend doesn't know you're gay or because he doesn't know you have a mental coach?”

The blonde had a shaken look on his face. Tobias quickly remedied it as he pulled the door open for the taller boy and they both headed inside.

“Hey, I’m not judging, Isak.”

He looked around briefly before taking Isak's hands gingerly in his own, stepping closer to look into the blonde's eyes.

“I don’t want you to feel like you need to hide anything from your friends.” Isak smiled, giving the other boy's hands a squeeze with his uninjured one before shaking his head.

“It's not that. It’s just……if Jonas knows I’m in therapy, he might think it's because of something that happened a few years ago.” Something he could've prevented. Don't lie to yourself Isak.

Tobias nodded, saying he understood. Elias came around the corner of the short hallway, the two separating quickly. The boxing coach flitted his gaze between the boys before addressing Isak.

“We got a splint from the doc. Chris is getting cranky. Says his liver needs a workout. C'mon.”

Isak snorted at the message, following behind Elias. Once the door to the main atrium had shut, Tobias waited a few seconds before pushing the fighter against the wall connecting their lips in a soft, melding press of flesh. Isak inhaled through his nose, surprised, but by no means displeased. Before he could deepen the embrace Tobias nose bumped his black eye, making the taller of the pair wrench back with a quiet “Ow”. The other boy giggled.

“Sorry man. Couldn't help it though. You looked so fucking hot tonight.”

Isak felt a blush coming on before he waved off the student's compliment. Tobias chuckled and looked up at Isak, a fondness clear in his eyes. It excited Isak. Made him feel a confidence he wasn’t used to. Made him want to hold this boy's hand in front of everyone. And as good as it made him feel, it also scared the shit out of him.

“Isak?”, the question took him out of his head.

“Oh, sorry. What'd you say?”

“I’ll see you at Bjorn's ok?”

Isak smiled and replied that the other boy would. The two shared a brief kiss before Tobias went back down the hall to the exit and Isak went to the arena floor to get his injured hand taken care of. As he was walking to where Elias was ready to splint the compromised appendage, he tried to hold onto the feeling he had when he was kissing Tobias. In his entire life, he still didn't have any other feeling to compare it to. It brought up a question he'd been ducking for weeks now.

Am I ready for a relationship?

 23:45

The nondescript top forties list filled the room with a underlying bass that warmed the patrons. Isak and his team, along with Noora and William, were sitting in a table just off to the side of the bar. A warm wave of heat periodically blew into the friends space making the crossbuzz Isak was riding even better. Every few minutes of conversation he'd sneak a glance over at Tobias who was currently talking to, well, being benevolently interrogated by, Eskild. The two seemed to get on well and Isak was thankful for that. The discussion at his own table soon turned to his opponent’s sudden retirement. Sudden for Isak at least. The celebrating featherweight was completely unaware that his team were already aware Agmir had planned on retiring.

He swiveled his head to the promotions co-owners. “Did you two know about this?” Noora and William looked like parents who'd been caught in a lie by their child. William leaned away from the table, slinging an arm around his wife before making a point of raising his hand and shrugging.

“Even’s then one who made us promise not to tell you anything.”

Isak now switched his gaze Even, letting out a playful scoff. The joint the boys had hot boxed with Jonas was melding beautifully with the three beers the blonde had polished off. He readjusted his posture, making himself draw up to his full seated height and crossing his arms, shooting a playfully indignant look at his grappling coach.

“And why, might I ask, was I not informed of this?” Even produced had his own false expression of incredulity.

“Um excuse me young man, It’s my job as a coach to keep your thoughts on the actual fight. Not what your opponent will do after.”

Before Isak could respond with his own jab of friendly banter, A certain sports psychologist interrupted the pair's conversation.

“Actually Bech Naesheim, that was my job for this one.”

The tall coach broke into the blinding smile Isak had become so accustomed to over the past few months. “Sana!”, Even exclaimed happily, stretching across the narrow table to hug the younger woman. The two shared a mutual smile before Even continued.

“I haven’t seen you since you and Yousef had Rahi back in March!”

“Yeah, we'd love to catch up with you sometime. Yousef has a couple of your kids in his twelve and under class you know.”

Even responded to Sana with a look of causal surprise, nodding his head.

“Absolutely. I’d love to get lunch or dinner sometime”

“Certainly. It won’t be tonight though. My poor husband has his hands full with Rahi. He's been watching his namesake’s old fights with his grandpa lately.”

“Wait till Elias starts teaching him. Yousef better learn how to bob and weave.”

The whole table enjoyed a laugh before Elias gave Even a fake scalding.

“Hey, you know our gym doesn't promote violence against brother in laws,” he said, turning back to his sister, “No matter how cute it might be.” Sana rolled her eyes while holding a fond smile on her face. She placed a hand on Isak's shoulder and gave the seated boy a friendly squeeze.

“Great win tonight by the way.”

Isak smiled at his mental coach.

“I should be thanking you Sanasol.” The undergrad pushed her bottom lip into her top to prevent a prideful smile from adoring her face.

“I just did my job Isak.”

As she finished exchanging goodbyes with the rest of the table Isak was struck by a kind of happiness he rarely felt since he was a child. It was the same feeling he got when his father would scoop him up into a twirling hug after he scored a goal in football. It was inherently different with Sana. She couldn't sweep him into a twirling hug for one. At least not comfortably. But the feeling of making another person’s effort worth it, that felt the same. Isak was a people pleaser, even if he wasn’t always aware of it. It was a driving force behind his will to win.

Shortly after Sana had taken her leave of the extensive group of friends, a loud, clinking noise reverberated throughout the cozy watering hole. This caught the attention of all the customers, their eyes turning to settle on Jonas. The university student was standing on the top two support cylinders of a bar stool. Two fingers and his thumb on his right had had empty Tuborg bottles pushed onto them. Flanked by a red faced, but smiling Eva, Jonas drunkenly shrieked out, “Warriors, come out and play!”, in his best New York accent, which proved to be particularly bad. Eva snorted out a laugh, softly hitting her fiancé with the back of her hand.

“I told you no one would get it!”, she said as a room of bewildered friends looked on. Even was quick to respond, rushing to defend his newly made friend.

“I resent that!”, he exclaimed loudly. A short burst of laughter echoed through the bar from friend and stranger alike. Even and Jonas had bonded over seventies American cult classic films on the ride to the bar.

“Seriously though guys”, The curly haired boy started, managing not to slur his words, “I have a huge announcement…..” The pause kept all the couple's friends in suspense. After an extended pause, Eva smiled, sighing and rolling her eyes at her plastered fiancé. Flinging her left hand into the air to show off the engagement ring she loudly proclaimed, “Me and this idiot are getting hitched!”

A wave of cheers and “congrats” washed over the young couple. They began making the rounds to each group of their friends, starting with Isak. The blonde boy embraced both his friend’s tightly.

“I’m so happy for you guys!”, he said enthusiastically. The trio began reminiscing fondly over their days in secondary school. It was surreal for them, even still for Jonas and Eva to a certain degree. Before the friends could continue their discussion however, Eskild interrupted the large group of friends with a good natured, but sassily asked question after he’d hooked his phone up to the aux cord that connected to the bar's stereo system.

“Um, excuse me”, he began, a playfully perplexed look on his face before It turned into a wide grin, “Am I the only who feels like dancing?”

“Play that shit you sexy bitch!”, girl Chris yelled out, holding out the I in bitch and receiving a wave of cheers from the group as Eskild pressed play on his selection. A whistling electronic beat bounced off the glass and wood of the establishment as the first verse began.

I woke up pissed off today

And lately everyone feels fake

Somewhere I lost a piece of me

Smoking cigarettes on balconies

As Eskild danced over to Isak, Elias gave up his spot, going to the empty space between the bar and the short stretch of booths with everyone else and beginning to dance. Isak looked at Eskild suspiciously.

“Odd choice for a post-engagement announcement song dude.”

Eskild waved off the comment, smiling and rolling his eyes.

“If you really knew this song you’d be praising my taste young one. This song is in fact romantic as fuck.”, the redhead informed Isak saying the last three words in heavily accented English. The blonde shook his head, telling Eskild, “If you say so”. The more Isak paid attention to the lyrics however, the more he had to concede the announcer’s point.

When your tears flow down your pillow like a river

I'll be there for you

I'll be there for you

When you're screaming but they only hear you whisper

I'll be loud for

But you gotta be there for me too

Eskild looked at his friend with a smug, but exuberant eye, making Isak smile and give an eye roll of his own as he unconsciously began bobbing his head. After several more seconds, it became clear that only a few people in Isak's friend group has elected to not flood the makeshift dance floor. Mahdi, while now only in an orthopedic knee sleeve for his nearly healed tendon, was dancing in his seat with who Isak recognized as an on again off again girlfriend sitting on his good leg. As the song reached it's bridge, Isak caught eyes with Tobias. The two had a whole conversation with just their eyes and minute movements of their facial muscles.

Isak flashed a vaguely wistful smile to the younger boy.

I really would like to be dancing with you.

Tobias pushed his brows to his for head, tilting his head just slightly and returning Isak's smile.

I know that's too much right now. It’s ok. I respect your boundaries.

Isak responded with a barely noticeable shrug and squint of his eyes.

I'm really sorry.

The brunette gave his own subtle shrug, adding a small, comforting smile and short head nod.

It's ok Isak, I understand this is new for you.

The song reached it's conclusion as another one by what Isak assumed was the same artist began. He closed his eyes, letting the slower, rumbling rhythm soothe him as some of his friend’s came back to sit down and finish their drinks. The ones remaining were mostly all couples, now dancing slowly as the pre chorus filled the air.

Yeah, there’s so much history in these streets

And mama's good eats

Oh wonder on repeat

There's so much history in my head

The people I’ve left

The one’s I’ve kept

The chorus kicked in right as Isak heard his name called. He kept his eyes closed. Willing the voice saying his name to go away. To please be an auditory hallucination induced by smoking too much weed and drinking too much alcohol. Isak had no such luck. As he opened his eyes regretfully, he was met with the proud, excited, yet very obviously awkward and apprehensive faces of a pair of people he hadn’t seen in over a year. A bevy of emotions rushed through the young fighter, but when he finally spoke, only two words, each in the form of a question, came out. “Papa? Mama?”

Stuff for the fic 

1. Boxer Fracture -  A break in the 5th metacarpal bones, i.e. pinky knuckle, common in combat sports that involve striking. Isak's isn't a full break across the bone and therefore will likely take less time to heal.

2. Tobias - Finally found a reference picture for him!

3. Rahi - So in my headcanon for this fic,  Sana and Elias's dad is a boxing fan and his favorite boxer is a Frenchman of Moroccan descent named Khalid Rahilou. Yousef and Sana named him Rahilou, Rahi for short, in honor of her father.

4. The Warriors - A cult classic American film from the 1970's about New York street gangs. The film is based on a book by Sol Yurick with the same title and Yurick's book is derived from the Ancient Greek soldier Xenophon's Anabasis.

5. Troy Sivan - There For You

6. Troye Sivan - Suburbia

Chapter Text

Søndag 

Desember 30th, 2018

00:08

Even and Mutta were talking business. Mutta had recently bought out a less than reputable supplement company and was questioning himself on the decision. The renaming and rebranding had seemed to go well, but the inevitable “wait, weren’t they selling PED's to athletes?” seemed to be a ubiquitous question when he was courting investors. Which brought him to Even. The boy’s had gone to Oslo University's school of business and entrepreneurship in their early twenties. They created grand, drunken plans when they passed their exams, although they never seemed to come to fruition. At least not until recently.

The friend's hadn't seen each other for a little while, not since Sana and Yousef's son was born. But it was nice to catch up, even if it was over their mutual nine to five drudgery. Mutta told Even how skeptical and cynical investors were, how difficult the name, even once it changed, was to scrub clean, and how dismissive the people who actually had invested were. Even told him of creative constraints, of co-workers who could see the bigger picture, but only in one color. The two commiserated before abandoning their respective gripes and going on to talk about Even's recent substitution as a coach.

For Even, it was feeling more and more like he had a decision to make. Mutta told him as much. It would make sense and would give him something to do instead of worrying about his nonexistent yet ever impending custody battle. But Even hadn’t seen his daughter since he left Stavanger. They had talked sure, skyped, Even had even sent her a singing telegram for her birthday. Even if it was at school and she had been a bit embarrassed, it was still appreciated. Lillian knew her father loved her. That love didn't always protect her though. She'd witnessed the falling out Even had with his teammates and friends at StavMAC. The gym respected him enough to keep everything hush hush. There'd be no mention of it in any of the mma media. Not even locally. Still, it hurt Lillian to see her dad in that kind of pain.

Being kept on as a coach for Isak was seeming like a good idea more and more. But, tonight was for celebrating and Even let Mutta know that. The two long-time friends clinked their shot glasses.

“To new directions!”, the raven haired man exclaimed.

“And one direction!”, Even followed up.

The two shared at one another briefly before cracking up and downing their shots. The bar had started to mellow into a pleasant hum as it usually did between midnight and the wee hours of the morning. The men were discussing the state of Norwegian mixed martial arts casually when Even noticed a rather odd couple walk in from the cold, the dying breaths of frozen air giving one last gasp as they dissipated into the warm room. It wasn't that they were particularly odd really, but Bjorn's did seem to draw a certain demographic. And that demographic was rarely a couple in their early to mid forties, looking a bit unsure but also excited. The out of place pair seemed to be looking for someone. As Mutta was scrolling through and replying to emails on his phone their conversation petered out, the friends content to simply enjoying the other's company.

Even moved his eyes along the people in the bar, noticing their various levels of intoxication. He noticed something between Isak and Tobias as well. A sort of silent, covert conversation it would seem. Even still wasn’t sure how he felt about Isak's…..newly found companion. The kid seemed nice enough, Even had only ever met him one other time when he'd stopped by the gym to return Isak's wallet one day. He was cute and had a sense of fun about him, but that could just be youth. He wished Isak and Tobias the best though. God knows the boy could use someone who can help him become more sure of himself outside the cage.

The baby boomer couple had reached Isak's table now. The gears started turning in Even's head. These are probably his parents. Why weren't that at his fight? Maybe they were, but wouldn’t they have wanted to see him? As these speculations were passing through his mind, Even noticed a silent panic on Isak's face. A dash of what looked like anger as well. Although he knew the boy wasn’t a lightweight, Even had just watched Isak finish his fourth beer in less than ninety minutes. And Isak was the kind of fighter who didn’t eat before a bout. He excused himself from his conversation with Mutta and began making his way over to his fighter. He searched the small sea of newly familiar faces, searching for one that noticed what he was noticing as well. Even wouldn’t have guessed it due to the man's previous alcohol consumption, but the face he found was Jonas's. The two shared a brief, but acknowledging meeting of eyes before making their way over to Isak’s table. Jonas may have still been drunk, but recognizing his best friend was in need seemed to be enough to make him reasonably sober.

“Marianne?”, Jonas postulated to the nervous looking blonde woman, “Marianne Valtersen?”

The woman in question turned around, her focus switching from Isak to Jonas. A confused expression shown across her face before a wide smile of recognition replaced it.

“Jonas!”, she replied, happily taken by surprise, “Oh my God, how long has it been sweetie? I don’t think I’ve seen you since you and Isak graduated! How's your family? Oh! I got the RSVP for you and Eva's wedding date! Congratulations honey!”

The curly haired student flashed a quick look to Isak, relieved when he noticed the significant reduction in panic in his eyes and face. Jonas guided Marianne to the table he and Eva were sitting at with Mahdi and his girlfriend. He hoped Even had enough tact prevent any outburst from Isak. He'd only met him a few hours ago, but Jonas liked Even. He seemed like a genuine person, someone who really had his best friend's best interests in mind. Even offered an outstretched hand and wide smile to Terje Valtersen. The two men shook hands firmly before Even began speaking.

“It's so nice to meet you Mr. Valtersen. My name is Even Bech Naesheim and I was one of your son's coaches for this fight. You see, Mahdi would normally train jiu-jitsu and grappling with Isak, but he was out with an injury and I’m actually good friends with Isak's head coach, so I stepped in. I have to say,”, Even looked over to Isak, giving him a silent assurance, relax, I got your back, before returning his eyes to Terje’s, “You have a very talented son Mr. Valtersen. I really think he has quite a bit of potential.”

He may have been a complete stranger to Isak's father, but the respectful introduction and follow up compliment were enough to disarm him. He looked mildly perplexed as he replied. “Oh um, yes thank you very much. It’s nice to meet you Even. I’m afraid I can’t take credit for Isak's skill though. He’s developed that all on his own.” The man's voice held a simultaneous tenor of pride and regret. Even had never asked about Isak's relationship with his parents and the fighter had never told him, but he was starting to put it together and his heart ached for Isak when he envisioned the picture it made. Shooting the one-forty-fiver another glance, Even was relieved to see that he appeared to have calmed down. Settling into a stewing frustration rather than a forthcoming volatile reaction. He turned back to Terje.

“I'm getting some water before I close out my tab, could I get you anything Mr. Valtersen?” The man seemed to be almost in awe of Even's hospitality, but answered that he would take a water as well. The black belt didn't miss the somewhat befuddled expression on Isak's face. Maybe his father has a drinking problem? Even left the father and son alone as he went to order the waters and pay his tab.

Isak's face appeared almost flat, expression devoid of any happiness. Devoid of any emotion actually. He appeared to be frozen in time. The blonde knew what Even was trying to do. He didn’t necessarily like it, but he understood it. And truth be told, he'd do the same for Even if he was in a similar situation. The blonde cleared his throat softly before speaking to his father.

“Why are you here, papa?”

“To see you son.”, he replied, his tone indicating he may be confused by Isak's question. The fighter restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

“Why are you really here?”

Terje’s expression spoke of a man who had held himself in heavy contempt, most likely for a considerable amount of time.

“Isak”, he began ,”I’m here to see you. Your mother is as well. Listen, I know I wasn’t there for you all. When you needed me the most, I tucked my tail and ran. I know I can't ever change that.”

He paused to let out a labored sigh.

“I just want to be your life Isak. Your mother and I both do. We love you so much son. And I know I wasn’t happy when you chose to start fighting, but from the way your coach tells it and from what I saw tonight, you’ve been doing pretty well for yourself. And you did it by yourself son.”

Isak released a light scoff.

“It wasn’t by myself papa, it was with a whole gym behind me. With friends who love me and with people that I consider family now.”

“True, but you put in the work Isak. You set your mind to this and wouldn't let anyone get in your way. You chose to walk your own path, and even if I’m not very good at expressing it, I’ll never stop being proud of you for that.”

Isak couldn’t help it. He wondered if there was an innate, uncontrollable emotional reaction in higher primates when a father told a son he was proud of him. A shot of oxytocin with the hypodermic needle that was evolution. It wasn’t that Isak hadn't heard his father say similar things before, but honestly, this was the first time he actually believed him. The conflicting feeling made him uncomfortable enough to change the topic.

“How's Mama been? Since….since I saw her last?”

Terje’s entire face morphed into a level of happiness Isak couldn't recall seeing since before he was a preteen.

“Oh Isak she's wonderful! She's finally been receptive to the treatment. Her medication is working and is on point. She's been so happy! I don’t want you to begrudge her for this son, but it was her idea to come see you. That alone speaks volumes to her level of improvement. She's back in the garden club as well, and started up her knitting again. It's really been incredible to see Isak.”

The younger Valtersen noticed a thin veneer of tears in his dad's eyes, his own unacknowledged emotions welling in his eyes as well. He sighed and cleared his throat again, blinking the salty liquid back.

“That's awesome Papa, really. I’m happy for you all. I…I know how….hard it could be with her at times, so, yeah that's amazing.”

He flashed a quick but authentic smile to his father. The older man returned it.

“I wasn’t entirely honest before by the way. We actually came to see if you’d like to join us for mass tomorrow. I know it's not really your scene, but I know our friends at church would love to see you.”

The report Terje had been building with his son was in danger of crumbling.

“You and Mama, still go to the same church?”, Isak asked, his voice holding a weariness. He still remembered the homilies the priest had given. Still remembered how they made him feel wrong when he was in the early throes of adolescence, noticing boys more than girls. His father smiled and shook his head.

“No, we've…..”, he broke his eye contact from Isak to find the right word, leaning forward slightly, then popping his head up when he did, “Moved on from that church. As have several of our friends.”Isak didn’t know why, but his father then lowered his voice, leaning into the table a little more.

“That's the other thing son, it isn’t only your mother's state of mind that's improved”, the two turned their heads to see Marianne smiling with the newly engaged couple, looking through wedding venues online with them, then turned back to each other, “It’s her view of the world as well.” The father and son looked back to Marianne again, this time not saying anything for several seconds, just watching a woman they both loved be truly happy for the first time in years. Terje gave a sigh.

“So, you think you could join us tomorrow? We'd be going to eleven o'clock service.”

“Oh, um I mean I would certainly like to but…”, Isak gestured with his left hand to his injured one, including his face in the gesture as well.

“Yes!”, Terje exclaimed, “Of course, you need to your rest. Need to recover. I understand.”

“No I mean, uh”, Isak unwittingly gulped, thankfully it wasn't very noticeable, “I could come by afterwards? Or you guys could come by the apartment. Chris would probably love to see you guys.”

Isak's father's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. Apart from Even, he was the only coach the featherweight’s parents had actually met. And that was before Isak was even fighting, back when he first joined the gym and the kickboxer was teaching him traditional Muay Thai. He'd made quite the impression on the then seventeen year old's parents. When Isak requested money for an mma gym membership, his parents were not only confused, but somewhat concerned. Isak had never really shown an interest in combat sports. He'd enjoyed football, but that was when he was much younger. When the couple met Chris and saw Bred Akse though, it diminished a lot of their worries. They knew their son would be in capable hands. That Bred Akse was about learning, building character, making better human beings, not just better martial artists. Terje smiled.

“You know I think I’d quite like to see Chris as well. He’s obviously done a bang up job as your coach. No pun intended.”

Isak couldn’t fight the small smile forming across his face. He couldn’t remember the last time his dad made……well, a dad joke. Maybe we really can start over. Who's to say they don't both deserve a second chance? Let’s be real, you weren’t always the easiest son to have either Isak. Agreeing with his internal voice, Isak nodded, telling his father he’d let Chris know. The male Valtersen's looked back over to Marianne again. Eva and Jonas looked appreciative but a bit overwhelmed, Isak's mother dispensing advice on different catering services, what silverware was best, how the cake should be made and presented. Terje released a small chuckle to himself.