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Fighting's Foreplay

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"The fuck even was that, old man?!"

Great. Roy was in a full-on temper, and Ollie hadn't even gotten out of gear completely. He turned, his own expression going thunderous.

"That was me protecting my friends, Roy!"

"By throwing yourself in the middle of the fight when you know I fucking wear a hell of a lot more protection than you do? When our teammates can take a lot more punishment?" Roy shook his head. "You don't get it, do you, Ollie? You got one get-out-death-free card! That doesn't make you invulnerable! Stop taking those kinds of risks, and respect us when we are out there with you!

"Because guess what? We fucking grew up while you were gone!" Roy stalked over, looming at Ollie, even though Ollie had the wider build, more muscular, compared to the whip-strong leanness of Roy's athletic form.

"Son — "

"Don't start, Ollie. You use that word, and I know it's just going to be your bullshit excuses." Roy moved over to where he was able to strip off his own gear. "Get out of that crap so I can look at the damage," he said once he had gotten down to the jockey shorts under his gear.

Ollie sighed, and worked on doing that, at least the upper half. As uncomfortable as it was to be wearing a cup right now, he was glad of it.

How in hell had his sidekick, the first son of his heart, managed to start hitting his buttons like this? He was hard as hell, whether from the fight, or from Roy's temper, he had no idea. It didn't help that the younger man was absolutely ripped.

Neither one of them said anything as Roy got the kit and went to work on the cuts and scrapes surrounding the vicious bruising already coming up. Ollie worked on pushing his lust down, and didn't do more than grunt when Roy poured the stinging sealant into the now clean cuts.

"Let that set, then get showered, old man."

Roy moved to put things away, and Ollie took a sneaking look his way, appreciating the view while Roy couldn't catch him. He then hurried into the showers, glad that none of the rest of the team was in here. He started the hot water, closed his eyes, and didn't even hesitate to start taking care of the hard-on he was too aware of.

"Need a hand?"

The words broke his rhythm, as he looked up to see Roy had come on in after cleaning up the locker area. For half a second, Ollie almost said 'no'.

"Might be a nice change of pace," he said instead.

"Just make sure you return the favor this time," Roy said, pressing up along his one-time mentor's backside, reaching around to take over the stroking.

"Didn't figure I'd get this lucky, as pissed as you were."

Roy laughed, then bit lightly at Ollie's shoulder. "Old man, when are you going to learn fighting's foreplay?" He pressed more firmly against Ollie's back as the elder man braced on the shower wall, hips rocking in time with his hand.

"Not going to last with you doing that," Ollie complained.

"Good. Means it will be my turn… and then we can get the fuck out of here for more." Roy sped up the motions, and was grinning when Ollie lost it less than a minute later.

He was still grinning when Ollie turned around to return the favor.