The fighter danced, weight shifted from one foot to the other as his dance partner clutched at metal, fingers hooked in the mesh that caged them, bloody face pressed to the canvas. The tape around Jason's hands had once been white, pristine until the first punches had been traded, and another crimson smear was added to the rest when he dabbed at a small cut at the corner of his mouth. Lucky punch, and the last one he'd allowed his opponent to catch.
All around them, tiers of blurred faces. Black holes opening in faces to roar approval or outrage, Jason was only barely aware of the chaos that battered at the two MMA fighters who had danced around each other for the better part of an hour. It had been a good match, a glorious match, and while Jason had never doubted he'd win, it had been a match worth fighting. Heart pounding, the rush flooded his system and even before his opponent surrendered to the inevitable, Jason was laughing, chest heaving, fists in the air, cock half-hard against his thigh, and the crowd surrendered, as well, screaming his victory over their once-favorite to the heavens.