monster among men // calum (SMUT)
boxer!calum
Pairing: Calum + Y/N
Words: 4.6k
Rating: X. For, you know, sex.
Description: Calum is your long time boyfriend but he’s also a boxer. When his trainer says the two of you can’t have sex before the big match, you find that much easier said than done.
Warning: Oral sex, mentions of violence (for sport).
Author’s Note: I wrote this in one go and haven’t edited it!! Please forgive the typos. Stay tuned for a part two!
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Calum threw one last punch at the now well-abused punching bag, watching it swing slowly back and forth—toward him, then away, then toward him again—and wiped the sweat off his forehead. The air in the gym was thick with sweat and dirt as men all around him trained against sparring partners, trainers, or a giant bag of sand, like him.
His trainer, Sal, came up behind him and squirted some gatorade in his mouth before helping him remove his gloves. “That was great, Cal. Your form is better than 97% of the guys in here.”
Calum smirked. “My form is better than 100% of the guys in here and you know it, Sal.”
Sal smiled at Calum but refused to boost his ego. “Well your form isn’t gonna win you a belt, Cal. Not on its own. I need you to keep up your power all the way to the last punch.” Sal was talking excitedly with his hands now, throwing fake punches at the air as though it were 1987 and he was back in the ring.
“Don’t worry about my power, Sal. Just get me in the ring and I’ll take it from there.” Calum wiped the towel Sal handed him against the back of his neck and then over the planes of his chest where little beads of sweat had gathered.
“Alright, big shot.” Sal gestured his head toward the ring and Calum climbed in, letting Sal strap the gloves back on once he was inside.
Sal slid on a pair of punching mitts and held them in front of Calum’s face. “Focus on me, Cal. Right here.”
Calum started throwing punches and Sal met them every time. Every time Calum dropped his guard, Sal would take advantage and hit Calum in the face with a mitt until Calum’s cheek was red and starting to swell.
They went on like that for the better part of an hour, before Sal finally let Calum take a break at the edge of the ring.
“It’s that girl, Calum. She’s inside your head. It’s all well and good to get laid when you don’t have a belt on the line. But if you’re spending all your time thinking about what little date you’re gonna go on and picking up a nice bouquet of pansies or some shit, you’re head ain’t gonna be where it needs to be.”
Calum knew that Sal was trying to rip him up and make fun of him by playing on age-old stereotypes, but Calum could’t even hear him.
As soon as Sal mentioned flowers Cal could smell your perfume. He could feel your skin under his fingertips, the soft give of your hips as he squeezed them. It was as though you were standing right in front of him, his mouth pressing soft kisses to the nape of your neck as you worked in the kitchen. He was pulling your back to be flush with his chest, the shape of your ass pushing deliciously into his —
“You’re not even listening to me, are ya?” Sal’s voice cut into Calum’s reverie and suddenly he was whipped back into the gym.
“I get it, no girls before the match. I hear you, Sal.” If the guys wanted to believe that Calum was a womanizer who was bedding a different woman every night, he would let them. But he wouldn’t jeopardize this match for anything.
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Calum was really, truly planning on staying strong until his match. But then he got home and you were standing there wearing one of his cotton t-shirts, barefoot and swaying your hips in time to the music playing through the stereo. Everything smelled amazing, the food you had simmering on the stovetop, the candle lit on the coffee table, the summer breeze drifting in through the open windows.
He slipped off his shoes and padded into the kitchen while you faced away from him. He knew you didn’t hear him come in over the sound from the stereo, so he had the advantage as he walked up behind you and gave you a playful slap on the ass.
You nearly jumped out of your skin, dropping the spoon into the sauce you had been stirring and letting out a yelp. “Calum Thomas!” you explained, licking the sauce off your thumb where it had splashed when you dropped the spoon.
“Hmmm,” Calum let out a low hum as he nuzzled his face into your neck, just as he had imagined earlier. He let out a soft sigh, the sound of a man who was exactly where he wanted to be after a long day. “Hey, let me have a taste, too,” he murmured, turning your chin between his fingers and kissing you deeply.
You twisted yourself in his arms so that your back was to the stove and your chest pressed against his. You loved when he came home like this; worked up from a day of hard exercise, hair still wet from his shower at the gym, the muscles in his arm thick and corded under his t-shirt where you traced your fingers.
His mouth wandered down your neck, his open mouth warm against your pulse points. You were breathing heavier now and he knew it, pressing his palm against the small of your back and drawing you impossibly closer to him.
“So, um,” you tried to string a sentence together as the feeling of his lips on your skin scrambled your thoughts. “How was work?”
Your little joke passed over him without laughter, his focus unyielding. He was always so focused on whatever task was at hand that he often couldn’t see or hear the world around him. Times like this, that trait came in handy.
You laced your fingers through his wet hair and scratched softly at the back of his head, bringing his focus briefly back to reality. Calum raised his face to yours again and smirked against your lips. “Work was great, sweetie. And how was your day?”
Calum loved playing pretend like that. Pretend like you two were a normal couple; that he had a normal 9-5 job pushing papers behind a desk in a suit and tie and you drove a mini-van or some shit. A joke that made it seem in moments like this that he wasn’t in physical danger 95% of his day and you didn’t spend thousands of hours of your life scared that one wrong punch would be the end of him.
But you couldn’t think about that now, not when he was hooking his hands around the backs of your thighs and hoisting you over onto a clear spot of the counter. Not when he was standing between your open knees and pulling you closer to his chest again, his arms circling your back and his mouth hot and needy against yours.
His kisses were urgent and all-consuming, pulling the breath of you and energizing you all at the same time. You didn’t realize he had pulled your hair out of it’s ponytail until you felt it cascade down your back. He pressed a kiss behind your ear and bit it lightly, causing you to laugh at the aggression.
“What’s gotten into you, Hood?” you asked breathlessly, teasing him for his ability to go zero to ninety in 3.5 seconds. Something in the tightness of his back and the set of his jaw told you something was up, though. “At least let me turn off the sauce so it doesn’t burn.”
Now he was laughing at you, his chest rumbling against yours. “I’m doing some of my best work here, babe, and you’re thinking about the sauce?”
“I just don’t want it to burn! I’ve been building these flavors for an hour, Cal.”
He didn’t stop laughing, but humored you by reaching over and switching off the burners. “Happy now?”
“I’ll be happier when you tell me what’s going on,” you said softly as you rubbed circles against his shoulders in an attempt to loosen the muscles there.
He dropped his forehead against yours and pressed a light kiss to your lips. He knew he would have to bring it up sooner or later, but he didn’t think he would have to say it so soon. “I, um, well.” He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck as he searched for the words. “Basically, Sal thinks that we shouldn’t, um.”
You dipped your head, searching for his eyes. Trying to follow along with his train of thoughts going nowhere. “Sal thinks we shouldn’t what, Cal?”
“Sal thinks we shouldn’t be, um, romantic before the championship match.” Cal almost looked like he was blushing. For someone that was so confident and uninhibited while you were actually being romantic, he often had a hard time talking about it when you weren’t.
Your face was deadpan as you looked at him. “Sal says we can’t fuck before the match,” you paraphrased in an unenthusiastic voice.
Now he was definitely blushing, the color rising in his cheeks and spreading to his ears. “Um, well, yeah.”
“The match that’s in three weeks.”
“Uh huh.”
“Your trainer, a man who hasn’t had a wild night of passion in over a century, says that you and I cannot fuck for 21 days.”
“Yeah.”
“And that will do…what exactly? It will help your form?”
“No, my form is great, actually. It’s my power on the last punch that needs work,” Calum replied, genuinely not realizing that you were being sarcastic.
“Then why the fuck did you come in here and start kissing me like that, jackass?” You swatted at his shoulder and dropped your head to his shoulder, huffing at the injustice of it all.
Calum laughed at your frustration, rubbing calming circles into the small of your back again but you pushed against his shoulders.
“You really can’t touch me if you don’t want me to jump you right now, Calum.”
The look in your eyes made him see you weren’t really joking. Calum felt a sudden rush of conflicting emotions; half feeling guilty that he had done this to you, and half feeling proud that he had a girl who wanted him as badly as he wanted her all the goddamn time.
“I’m sorry. You’re right, love, I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe I wanted a little something to tide me over.” He was smirking now, leaning in to give you another kiss but you turned your head to the side in defiance.
He tossed his head back in defeat, taking a step back and throwing his hands up to signal that he wouldn’t pressure you.
But that’s not what you wanted, either. It was very confusing, really. He had worked you up and then left you high and dry, so you were just as much want and need and greed as you were angry and annoyed.
You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back against you, shifting forward on the counter. “If you want to tide me over, I’m gonna need a little more than that,” you said against his lips, sliding your hand down the front of his shorts and palming him over his underwear.
Calum groaned and bucked involuntarily against your hand before grabbing your wrist. “Baaabe, we can’t,” his voice almost a whine.
You slipped your hand back out of his shirt obediently and placed it back on his shoulders. “Fine,” you conceded. “I guess I’ll just have to go take care of myself. You can finish up dinner, right?”
Giving his shoulders a light push, Calum stepped back, surprised. You slid off the counter and began walking out of the kitchen toward your bedroom before feeling his hand grab your wrist. “C’mon, baby, don’t be like that.”
He pulled your wrist to turn you around, holding your hand to his cheek and pressing his mouth where it met your wrist. He held it there for what felt like forever, the worlds slowing down and your heart speeding up as you concentrated on the feeling of his lips against your palm. He was looking at you from under his criminally long lashes, all dark lines and tan skin with a single wet curl hanging over his forehead.
“We can do this, together, I’m sure,” he murmured into your skin. “Now can we please eat this beautiful dinner you’ve worked so hard on?”
Breathing in through your nose and blowing out through your mouth, you focused on both calming down and cooling down. You really wished this place came with a goddamn air conditioner.
“Fine. You make the salad.”
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A week went by like that. The tension growing thicker each day. Waking up next to Calum and feeling the shape of his body against your back, your front, your legs twisted between each other’s or splayed like snow angels. No matter the position, you woke up hot, every inch of your scorching where it touched his.
It really shouldn’t be this hard. You had been celibate voluntarily or involuntarily, for months at a time not that long ago. You were an adult who could survive a simple 21-day stretch without sex.
But that was all before you met Calum. Before you had been with Calum; known the way his body could make yours feel. Before you knew the way he could play your body like a fine-tuned instrument, his every touch lighting a fire inside of you that threatened to melt you from the inside out.
And it was in moments like this, when the early morning sun was streaming in through the curtains and causing a cold yellow light to dance over his golden skin that you felt so acutely what he could do to you. You lay awake just staring at him. At his long, black eyelashes curling so beautifully over his closed eyes. His messy morning hair curling haphazardly over his forehead. His strong jaw line creating a line that led down his neck to the shape of his collarbone where it stood out over the swell of his bare chest.
His breathing was slow, the rise and fall almost lulling you back to sleep. But then he spoke. “You’re being creepy,” he murmurs without opening his eyes.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” you replied innocently, swiping his hair off his forehead and running your finger down his cheek to his jaw.
“Staring at me looking all sexy and asleep isn’t going to help your predicament, see cheeks,” he joked as he slowly came into consciousness.
“How do you do that without opening your eyes?”
He turned his face to press his mouth to the pulse in your wrist, one eye peeking open to stare at you in the morning light. “I’ll tell you one day.”
You curled into his side, setting your chin into his shoulder to stare at him up close. “I think I’ve been rather good, actually. I haven’t pressured you even once, even when I really wanted to jump your bones.”
He laughed, curling to face you on his arm, your bodies forming two parentheses barely overlapping each other under the mustard yellow sheets. “You’ve wanted to jump my bones, hmm?” He ran his hand down your back to your underwear, teasing the skin just under the hem of his cotton t-shirt that you had worn to bed.
“Of course,” you said, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. “When you come home all sweaty from the gym in those short ‘80s shorts. How could I resist?” Your voice was joking but you really weren’t. Those were the times you really felt like no championship would be worth dying a slow, horny death.
“Well you’ve been very patient.” Calum pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How long has it been, anyway?”
“Eight days,” you replied too quickly.
Calum noticed your eagerness and laughed. “Eight days. Hm. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”
Your heart skipped a beat but you didn’t let yourself get your hopes up. Not after yesterday, when he had texted you I have a surprise for you when you get home ;) and you arrived home prepared to see a naked Calum covered in whipped cream or something….only to find him with an extra-large pizza from your favorite restaurant. Granted, that had been a pretty good surprise. But it didn’t change the fact that you only thought of him a tease with no action to back up his big talk.
“Oh I’m certain I deserve a reward,” you replied, giving him a playful slap on the ass.
“Whatever shall we do about that?” he whispered into your ear. Goosebumps rose everywhere his breath ghosted over you.
Calum rolled you onto your back, throwing his leg over your waist to rest his full chest against yours. Maybe you could get excited, after all.
He pressed small kisses against your neck, nipping at your skin to make you gasp. When you moved your hands to twist them through his hair he grabbed them and pressed them to the pillows above your head, twining your fingers together and making your breath come out unsteadily.
He kissed you deeply, the air leaving your lungs. Suddenly your entire body was nothing but a pile of unmitigated need, a live wire that sparked everywhere his mouth touched. And his mouth on yours made you feel like he was breathing your life into your lungs and pulling it back out all at the same time.
It was an effect no man had ever had on you before. The ability to turn you inside out like this. Was it because you were in love with him? So completely in love with him that it made the want and the need and lust and sex and love all mix up with each other in your mind until they were a single force driving you toward peak after peak.
And he had barely even gotten started. He had you pinned between his strong arms, the muscles in his bicep flexing as he held himself over you. He ground his pelvis into yours, your back arching to meet each delicious thrust. God, he hadn’t even really touched you yet.
Calum held himself above you to watch the effect his actions had on you. The way your eyebrows furrowed together as he rubbed against you. The way you shivered when he traced one finger up your arm and over the swell of your chest to cup your breast over your shirt.
“I feel like I’m in high school,” you murmured. “Dry humping my boyfriend while his mom watches TV in the living room.”
“My mom is here?” Calum looked over his shoulder as though he would find her standing right behind him.
You laughed and used his distraction to push him onto his back. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right.” You peeled his t-shirt off of you and threw it on the floor, immediately forgotten.
Calum drank you in above him, pupils blown out with lust, watching you closely to see what you would try to do next. His body looked relaxed but you knew that in reality he was like a predatory cat preparing to strike. That his lazy exterior could spring into action before you could realize what had happened.
Not wanting him to steal your pleasure from you, you acted before he could. First you slid your fingers down your panties and gathered some of the wetness that had grown there before rubbing your fingertips slowly over your clit. Your mouth pouted open into a gasp, reveling in the sensation, grinding harder as you chased that pleasure.
You slapped your other hand to his chest, your fingertips digging crescent moons into his bronze skin as you rolled your hips over your hand, and by extension, his growing erection.
Calum sat up suddenly. His face was still relaxed, but the speed with which he moved gave away how much your action had affected him. He pressed his chest flush with yours and kissed you hotly.
Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he pulled your hand out from your panties and pressed your fingers into his mouth. His tongue laved slowly over your fingertips, drawing a long moan from you, the air between the two of you growing thick and electric.
“God, you’re killing me, Cal,” you moaned. He ran his fingers down to your hips again, digging into the flesh and rolling you against him. Back and forth, back and forth, rolling you quickly toward an orgasm thanks largely to how long it had been since your last one.
“Do you,” Cal pressed a kiss to the base of your throat, “do you touch yourself when I’m away?” Calum’s voice sounded genuinely quizzical, as though he were discussing the weather or asking you for directions.
“I, um.” Your brain was short circuiting as he pressed you harder and faster against him, your wet panties rubbing against your clit like a tongue. He pressed another kiss to your bare chest, nipping you just under your collarbone before taking a nipple into his mouth.
“Well? Do you?” He repeated, his hot breath causing you to shiver where it met your pebbled nipple.
“No. Um.” The screws were coming loose in your brain. Everything you wanted to do with him, do to him, were flashing over the inside of your eyelids as he drew you to your peak. “Not since, um, not since you said we couldn’t, oh god.”
Calum pulled away and you whined at the loss. He was looking at you intently, as though trying to judge if you were being serious. “You mean that?” He slid his hand down the back of your panties and slid one finger inside you easily. You gasped at how unexpected it was and moaned as he used that hand to pull you back and forth into the grinding motion he had you in before. “You really haven’t had an orgasm for over a week?”
“Yeah, I mean it,” your voice was increasing in pitch and your eyes were shut tight. “Fuck, Calum, don’t stop.”
But Calum did stop. At least, he stopped long enough to throw you onto your back and slide comfortably to rest his head just above your mound. “You’ve been an even better girl than I thought,” Calum praised, his voice still gravelly this early in the morning. “Now let’s see about that reward.”
Calum pulled your underwear off quickly and pressed his tongue flat against you, licking a thick stripe from your opening to your clit. You keened loudly, your back arching when he finally gave you what you needed.
He didn’t intend to tease you. He really did want to reward you for your patience. But it was just so much fun to watch you writhe and moan under him as he teased one finger around your opening and licked figure eights just below your clit.
You were panting as the air of the room pressed heavily against your skin. If fucking Calum was a religious experience, having him eat you out was like leaving earth and going straight to heaven.
“Fuck, Calum. I can’t.” You had been so close to your climax before you felt your mouth on you that your brain was disconnecting.
Finally, he took mercy on you. Diving in to eat you like his last meal. He slid one finger into you, just up to the second knuckle, pressing up against your front wall as he flicked his tongue against your clit.
You bucked up into his face and he didn’t even bother holding you down, just tucked one arm under your thigh to steady himself before shoving two fingers into you up to their base.
He pumped his fingers into you steadily, pressing his tongue flat against you. He alternated his pace, pumping faster when he slowed his tongue and flicking his tongue quickly when he slowed his pumps.
“Oh my god, Calum. Fuck, I—,” you blubbered as your soul left your body. You curled your legs over his shoulders, your thighs shaking as you sprinted towards the high you were both chasing. All the want you had built up for a week had created an ache stronger than you even realized, and the beginning of your orgasm was like stretching an atrophied muscle. “Goddamn it that feels so fucking good.”
When he knew you were going to fall over the edge, Calum slowed his tongue and hooked his fingers to press firmly against your g-spot. He tapped them rapidly against that spot as he sucked your clit into his mouth.
A tear rolled down your cheek as you reached your peak. You clamped your knees against his ears, locking him in place as you finally fell over the edge. Your entire body shook as the orgasm rolled from where his fingers still tapped inside you out to your fingers and down to your toes.
Even as you reached your peak he didn’t stop, pumping his fingers and scissoring them to rub against every wall, running his tongue over you until there wasn’t a nerve left below your waist that he hadn’t annihilated.
It was like his fingers were fucking the air right out of your lungs. Connecting the two of you and unraveling you all at the same time.
“C’mon, baby. I know you’ve got another in you.”
And he was right, really. Except it wasn’t exactly a second orgasm as it was a second wave of the first that had never stopped. He stayed like that for a long time, never letting you come down, pulling one after another from you until you had to shove his face away.
He kissed his way back up your body, holding his hand still against your mound as you came down, its warmth soothing as your body shook.
Finally he pressed his mouth against yours and you could taste yourself. You didn’t have the energy to kiss him back. Your lips just hung open as your breath came out in small pants. He rolled over onto his side and pulled the sheet over both of you.
“You are really fucking good at that,” you said finally, flinging the back of your hand against his chest.
Calum nuzzled his nose against your ear, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “Only the best for my girl,” he laughed, taking the compliment in stride.
You glanced down at the tent in the sheet where it lay over his waist. “Just, uh, just give me a minute. I’ll get right on that.” You gestured lazily toward his obvious erection.
“No, no. Today was about you.” Calum rolled you so that he was spooning you and ran his hand over the back of yours, twisting your fingers together. “I still need to wait until after the match.”
He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck and breathed slowly through his nose to try and bring his own body temperature down. Your thoughts were becoming coherent again.
You turned your head to look at him, really look at him. You kissed him deeply, trying to convey to him the feeling that had overwhelmed you. “I love you, Calum. So goddamn much.”
He smiled but he didn’t laugh. The light danced in his eyes where they crinkled at the corners. He kissed you again and brushed his nose against yours. “I love you, too. Now go back to sleep.”
