Page 14 of Carver
And Silver always seemed to be that person.
They took their vests off and laid them to the side. Next came their shirts. They even stripped their jeans, leaving them in just their underwear to truly give them free range of movement.
No one batted an eye. It was normal for the pair.
Carver fought not to think of how in a different situation, it might be arousing to be this bare with another man. He didn’t want to think of how the rush of adrenaline could shift into fucking his partner hard and fast like a feral animal.
Now wasn't the time.
He could fuck or he could fight. Today he needed a fight.
As soon as they stepped in the ring, Bookie, one of the probies, jumped in to officiate. He was charismatic and often the life of the party.
Raising both of his hands, he tried to hush the gathered crowd.
“Today we have an impromptu event. In this corner we've got the prez, also known as Carver, also known as The Butcher.”
Cheers went up at the introduction. Carver didn't give in to the urge to preen at their words. His focus was on Silver, who watched him back with a calculating glare.
“And in this corner,” Bookie continued, “we have Silver. The man who keeps coming back for an ass whooping. The Casanova of the Angels of Ruin.”
Wolf whistles went up. Silver went so far as to bow at the praise.
Carver shook his head at the display. There was no denying the truth of Bookie’s words. If there was someone to be seduced into his bed, Silver was the one to do it. Even people who were solidly against the idea of sleeping with him somehow woke up beside him sated.
Silver never compromised anyone's morals or didn't get consent. It was just that he was so devilishly handsome and convincing. He could persuade a camel to buy sand in the fucking desert.
It was astounding. To make matters more awkward, the people he took to bed often wanted another round with him. As a general rule, he didn’t go back for seconds. It often made for men and women shouting at him as they stormed from the compound during their walk of shame.
Carver was thankful that Silver worked for him and not against him. He had no clue how he'd handle it if the other man was trying to pull one over on him or his men. The only reason none of them slept with him was because he felt like family after all his years as an Angel. If they’d met him somewhere on the street, he had no doubt Silver could bed them in an instant.
“Everyone knows the rules, so I won't yap anymore. Men to the center, we shake, then we fight,” Bookie said.
The two men approached one another and shared a firm handshake. Carver’s expression was focused, while Silver still wore a smirk.
Bookie took a large step back and then slashed the air with a flat hand, yelling, "Fight!"
Silver took the first swing, as he always did. Carver ducked, then came back with an uppercut. The move only managed to clip the edge of Silver's jaw.
The other man gave a dark chuckle as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “Going for the knockout this early, boss?"
Carver grunted rather than answered. He didn't want to talk back and forth. If he wanted that, he would have gone to speak with Fury. He was the resident therapist at the compound after having joined the Angels with a full-blown medical degree under his belt.
Fury would talk people down when they were having a moment, and he helped manage everyone's mental health. Of course, that's not what they called it to the guys, because they were tough men who needed to believe that everything was fine with a little duct tape and spit.
Still, Fury wasn't what he needed right that minute. He needed to focus, to make someone bleed, to feel better about the man on his compound who had been tortured for so long.
Silver came to deliver a jab, and Carver telegraphed the movement before it landed. He released a combo that sent Silver wobbling. The other man shook his head, his grin turning to a grimace.
"What? I get nothing?" he said. "No words or explanation? I thought we were friends, Boss."
Bookie snorted from the sidelines. “The only friends boss has are Slash, Slayer, Fury, and Hex. Everyone knows this. I happen to know that they had a really fucking tough morning with all those victims.”
“Survivors,” Carver grunted as he landed a blow to his opponents’ ribcage. Silver grunted, taking a large step back to get out of his reach.
Bookie snapped his fingers, then returned to talking to Silver. “Right; survivors. Anyway, there were a hell of a lot more of them than they expected. There's even one here on the compound.”
Carver froze, then straightened. "What do you mean there's one here on the compound?"