Derek blinked. He stared at his father blankly, wondering if he’d heard the request correctly. “An adult class?” he asked. He could scarcely remember the last time they had done one of those.

It wasn’t a matter of economy—adult classes usually paid more than what they pulled in with their usual program. The problem was ego. Adults came with a lot more baggage than the kids that Derek usually dealt with, making them more trouble than they were worth.

Adults had opinions. Strong opinions. And quite often, if Derek was being honest, wrong opinions. It was as if people watched a single martial arts movie and decided that they were qualified enough to comment on his methods and motives.

Kids were blank slates. Adults came with preconceptions—about how quickly they were supposed to be learning techniques. About which techniques they were supposed to be learning. They even sometimes challenged his understanding of what martial arts was supposed to be—what purpose it was meant to serve.

Suffice it to say that Derek had never had the best experiences teaching adult classes. He’d only ever done a handful, and he’d not liked any of them.

Maybe the students would be more open to listening to Derek now that he was older. Adults often didn’t like being told they were wrong by someone younger than them, after all. They tended to think that they knew better just because they were older than someone, and Derek wasn’t sure he was willing to deal with that level of disrespect.

Derek tilted his head and looked into Trevor’s eyes.“Why now? I thought we agreed we weren’t going to do those anymore. What changed your mind?”

Trevor shrugged. “Things have been pretty stable recently, so I figured it was as good a time as any to try it out again. We’ve got the open time slot, and it’s never a bad idea to have more money coming in.”

On that last part, at least, Derek could agree wholeheartedly.

“Didn’t you want a bigger nest egg anyway?” said Trevor as he squeezed Derek by the shoulder. “This would be a good chance to build up some more savings. It might be annoying trying to wrangle a whole bunch of adults, but I don’t think you’ll have that much trouble with this group.”

“I was about to ask, actually,” said Derek as he looked up at his dad. “You said you wanted me to do an adult class, but you didn’t mention opening up enrollment, so am I right in assuming this is going to be a private group?”

Trevor grinned. “You’re quick on the uptake, as always, buddy. That’s right. And I know what I said about private clients, but these guys are legit. I can vouch for them.”

“How do you know these people, Dad?”

Trevor chuckled. “I can’t exactly tell you how I know these people, but let’s just say I met them through my new job. They really do want to learn, though, and they’ll be on my shit list if they give you too much trouble, so don’t worry too much about that.”

Derek pursed his lips. “I have to say, Dad, I’m pretty skeptical about this whole thing. This is… weird.”

Trevor didn’t say anything. He just watched Derek, something expectant about the way he was looking into Derek’s eyes.

“But if you’re vouching, then I guess I can give it a shot,” Derek finally relented with a sigh. “You can’t say how you know these people, but can you at least tell me if they’re your friends? That’s not gonna change how I treat them, but I want to make sure I don’t disappoint.”

Trevor grinned. “Yeah. Friends. We can go with that,” he said with a laugh. “But I really am grateful, and again, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about this. I know it’s a big ask.”

Derek managed a small smile. “It’s okay, Dad,” he said.

“Alright, well, I’ll let them know you agreed. I’ve already figured out the scheduling, and they’re gonna be starting tonight.” Trevor patted Derek on the shoulder. “I know you’re going to be great!”

“Thanks, Dad. I’ll try my—wait! Did you just say tonight?” Derek stared at Trevor as if his dad had just grown a second head.

Trevor cocked an eyebrow. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Well, probably not, but… I thought I’d at least have a few days to prepare.”

Trevor chuckled and waved his hand. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal. Just go through the basics to start with. These guys are total beginners. They don’t know anything.”

“Dad, you know that doesn’t fill me with confidence, right?” said Derek. Not that he was looking forward to tonight, but the immediacy of the problem did at least manage to shunt the haze of arousal in his head to the side.

“Just start with some breathing exercises,” said Trevor with a laugh. “Maybe have them do an endurance test in horse stance. It might buy you more time to figure things out.”

Derek frowned. “I guess that could work…” he said.

Trevor squeezed Derek’s shoulder. “This is going to be a good experience for you,” he said. “If you mean to be a proper instructor or, eventually, a master, you’re gonna have to learn how to teach on your feet. Use the downtime to figure things out.”

Derek nodded. Trevor was offering good advice, at least. It wasn’t exactly helpful, but it was good to keep in mind. “Alright, Dad. I’ll try,” he said.

“Sometimes, to break through a bottleneck, we have to change our perspective,” said Trevor with a smile. “This might turn out to be just what you need,” he added.

“I’m not sure I’d go that far, Dad,” said Derek with a laugh. “But I think I’ve got an idea. I’ll just have to workshop it.”

“I know you’ll do your best, baby. You always do.”

---

Derek took a breath to settle his nerves. The group Trevor had asked him to teach had just arrived. They were in the main hall of the dojo, mostly just milling around and conversing with each other while they got settled in.

One thing jumped out at Derek right from the start: the group were all wearing the same thing. Gray sweatpants, black tank tops, identical gym bags, seemed to be their uniform, and everything single article had a slightly darker shade of Tyrian purple as an accent color.

Derek supposed it wasn’t entirely outlandish for a private group to show up in uniform. His first thought was that this was some sort of a corporate program that Trevor had arranged. Then again, he was vaguely aware that some groups were just about dorky enough to come up with a “training uniform” just for shits and giggles.

He couldn’t see himself getting along all that well with those kinds of people, but then again, he wasn’t sure he was in a position to speak. After all, he was part of a vigilante team themed after the five heavenly beasts of Eastern mythology.

What Derek was curious about most of all was how Trevor knew these guys. And they were definitely all guys. That was the second thing that Derek had noticed about the group.

It wasn’t much of a shocker since men were more likely to seek this sort of instruction. It wasn’t like they’d never had female students before, though. Those had been rare, but they’d existed.

If this was a corporate group, as Derek had suspected, it was weird that there were no women. He would have expected at least one. Maybe it was a construction firm. He knew his dad had worked at a couple of those over the years.

Derek didn’t know, and he couldn’t really know unless he asked the guys where they knew Trevor. He was tempted—sorely—but he figured that if Trevor wanted him to know, Trevor would have told him.

He wasn’t sure what to think about this group, but they did at least have one thing going for them: they’d been pretty well behaved so far. The night was young, so there was plenty of opportunity for things to go down the drain, but there hadn’t been any trouble just yet.

The guys actually seemed genuinely excited for the lesson. Derek could hear them talking about how they always wanted to do something like this as children but just never had the money, time, or parental approval.

There was just one problem: something was off. Derek wasn’t even sure where he was getting that impression, but he didn’t feel safe.

It was silly, he knew. He was a martial arts master. If anyone here was in danger, it was his students, especially if they tried something shady with him. He was more than capable of taking care of himself, and he wasn’t exactly threatened by a whole group of amateurs and total newbies.

Derek was confident in his capabilities to defend himself if things went wrong, but for some reason he just couldn’t shake the feeling. It was frustrating, since his intuition was usually pretty spot on. This was the first time he was feeling so antsy about a situation that was so clearly non-threatening.

Some primal lizard part of Derek’s brain was convinced that these guys were a bunch of thugs out to get him, but they weren’t doing anything untoward. They weren’t even being rowdy or disrespectful. They were perfectly pleasant, which made it all the more confusing why his brain was telling him that they had to have an ulterior motive.

Derek wasn’t happy, suffice to say. He was more upset with himself than anything else. Any other time, he might have called things off, but he couldn’t cancel. This lesson had already been paid for, and what was more, Trevor had asked him to do this. Explicitly. He couldn’t very well say no.

There was no point in bitching about it. Derek would just have to get over himself and get to the lesson. These guys were here. They’d already paid—Trevor had handed him an envelope of cash after their conversation in the morning—and were expecting a quality martial arts lesson.

Derek would just have to swallow his trepidation. It wasn’t like the guys had done anything to truly warrant his suspicions, anyway. If anything, they’d been better behaved than he expected.

Taking a breath to re-center himself, Derek clapped his hands once to grab the attention of tonight’s students. Of course, that was aided with a bit of Qi that made sure the crisp, sharp smack carried throughout the hall.

“Good evening, everyone. I’m Derek Chan, senior instructor here at the Chan Family Dojo, and I—”

“Hey! How old are you?” one of the guys called out. “You seem pretty young to be a senior anything!”

Derek flushed. Alright. Here it came. This was much more familiar to him. "I’m 25, and I’ve got a long way to go until I’m as good as my dad, but you guys are in good hands. I’m sorry if you were expecting him, though. Dad doesn’t really teach beginner classes anymore.

"But I assure you, I’ve got a lot of experience. Whether you’ve got some knowledge of martial arts or are totally new to this kind of stuff, you’ll take some valuable lessons home with you after tonight.

“This is something I do on a regular basis, after all. I’ve been teaching beginner classes since the age of 20, and everyone who has wanted to has gone on to join our intermediate and advanced classes eventually, so you guys have nothing to worry about.”

“Woah, since you were 20?” said another of the guys—a different one from the one that had spoken just moments ago—“That’s fucking impressive, man! Especially for such a young guy. Anyone know what they were doing when they were 20? Anyone even remember?”

There was a murmur of agreement and quite a few light chuckles from the group as they considered the question. Derek, for his part, appreciated the vote of confidence.

“Well, it’s not all that impressive,” said Derek, feeling more than a bit bashful. “I just want to share my love of martial arts with anyone who’s willing to take the time to appreciate them. Which brings me to an important point: where is everyone at, knowledge-wise, when it comes to martial arts?”

Derek cocked an eyebrow. “Has anyone done any formal training before? Doesn’t have to be a lot. Could have been one karate lesson as a kid.”

“By training, do you mean fighting?” said one of the guys.

There was a murmur of agreement from the rest.

Another voice called out. “Yeah! Because pretty much all of us have done a little fighting.”

Derek chuckled. “I know what this area’s like. You don’t grow up here without getting scuffed up a little bit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” “Amen, brother,” and “Yeah, for sure,” were only some of the phrases uttered in agreement with what Derek had just said.

“Well, I know how to use my fists if that counts?” one of the guys volunteered.

“And I knocked a man’s front teeth out, once!” said another.

Derek tried not to roll his eyes. He had managed to sniff out that these guys were all from “rougher” neighborhoods, so he was glad that his intuition was still pretty accurate in that regard.

“Well…” Derek mulled over his words for a moment. “Just because someone can fight doesn’t mean they can do martial arts. A person can fight with martial arts, but there’s a distinction, and it’s an important one.”

One guy in the back called out, “Doesn’t look like there’s much of a difference from where I’m standing!” he said, drawing a murmur of agreement from the others.

Derek chuckled. “Alright. Let’s have a show of hands. How many people have gotten into an actual fight?” Almost every hand shot straight up.

“How many people were injured in a fight?”

One or two hands went down, but the rest stayed up.

“Light injuries?”

No hands went down.

“Heavy injuries?”

A couple more were lowered.

“And how many people think fights are messy?”

All the hands that had been lowered so far went straight back up into the air.

Derek shook his head good-naturedly and said, “Fights don’t have to be messy. Sure, it’s unavoidable sometimes, but that’s not efficient. It’s a lot of energy wasted.”

He moved his arms around him in slow, sweeping motions as if he were gathering the air to his chest. Then, he snapped his arm to the side, perfectly straight. The blade of his hand whistled as it cut through the air.

“If you have skill, though? If you know what you’re doing? You can finish things cleanly,” said Derek. “Martial arts is all about skill. Discipline. Knowledge. Of the self and the opponent. It’s as much about protecting yourself as it is about taking down the other guy.”

“I don’t know, teach,” said one of the group, “What does it matter how you win? As long as you’re the one on top in the end, that’s the point of a fight, right? Who cares if it gets a bit messy sometimes?”

Derek shook his head. “Sure, that might work well and good if you’re facing just one other person. But what if they’ve got friends? How are you going to fight them all off if you spend all your energy on the first guy?”

The guys laughed. “That’s what you’ve got backup for, man!” said someone from around the middle of the pack.

Ah. Derek could see where this was going. He wasn’t going to be able to get through these guys with just talk.

It was starting to seem more and more likely that these people were from a construction background. If Derek had to guess, it was going to be much easier to teach them what he meant if he gave them an object lesson in the difference between a veteran scrapper and a trained martial artist.

“Alright, let’s do it your way,” said Derek. If he were being honest, he was looking forward to this. He’d noticed a handful of really strong-looking men in the group. If they managed to learn what he had to teach them, he was sure they would get far on their martial arts journey.

Derek made a show of looking through the group. “Who among you is the biggest, strongest guy? The meanest one. The one that’s won the most fights.”

There wasn’t much debate as every single pair of eyes in the group turned toward a tall guy standing to the side. He was built like a brick shithouse, his physique very nearly a match for Trevor’s—and Derek’s, for that matter.

“Anton,” said the guy as he extended a hand in greeting.

Derek shook Anton’s hand. “Care to tell me a bit about yourself, Anton?” he said. “It helps to know who you’re fighting.”

“Oh, I’ll admit I’ve had a rougher go of it than even most of these guys,” said Anton with a laugh. He scratched the back of his neck, looking embarrassed even sharing this much. “If you’ve been doing martial arts since you were a kid, I’ve been scrapping on the streets since I learned how to walk.”

Anton took a deep breath. “I got involved with a gang, so brawling kinda just came with the territory. Obviously, I don’t run in those circles anymore, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do to survive, you get me?”

Derek nodded. “I can concede that,” he said. “So. Do you think you can take me down?”

Anton gave Derek a once-over. “You’ve definitely got experience over me. I can tell you’re more than just a theory person. But I’ve fought bigger, meaner guys than you. Compared to all of that, you’re a bit more on the cute side than anything else.”

Cute, huh? Derek thought to himself. He was going to look forward to disabusing Anton of that notion. “We’ll see about that,” he said while folding one arm behind his back. He held the other one out and beckoned for Anton to come at him. “And you’ve never done martial arts before, right?”

“No, Sir. I’m what they call self-taught,” said Anton. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and popped his knuckles. “I don’t know any of those fancy techniques or stances that people like to yap on about, but I’m good with my fists, and that’s usually the part that matters.”

Derek laughs. “Well, that’s true to an extent. Alright, I’ll give you the first three moves. If you can get a hand on me, that’ll be a win for you. But I can assure you—it won’t be easy.”

Anton grinned. “You’re being awfully cocky for a young guy, sir,” he said with a laugh. “I can tell you’re confident in your skills, but you’ve never faced anyone like me—I guarantee it.”

Without warning, Anton charged toward Derek. Derek, having already spotted the tension in Anton’s muscles, had anticipated this and stepped out of the way. “That’s one,” said Derek.

Anton caught himself, which Derek had to admit was pretty impressive considering the big guy’s mass. He certainly had talent, at least. “You’re light on your feet, I’ll give you that,” said Anton as he turned to face Derek again. “But that’s not going to help you.”

Derek ducked out of the way as Anton swiped at him. “Two,” he said.

Anton grabbed at Derek, but to no avail. He tried again and again and again, but each time Derek managed to evade him. “You’re one slippery fucker, aren’t you?” Anton growled under his breath. “But I’m not out of tricks just yet!”

Derek dodged as Anton lunged at him yet again. “That’s three strikes,” he said. “More than that, actually. I think I gave you plenty of chances, but you’re out.”

Turning his attention to the class, Derek said, “As you can see, there’s more to fighting than just brute strength.”

Anton laughed. “Maybe you should make sure you’ve actually won before claiming victory, buddy,” he said. “Who said anything about brute strength?”

A shiver ran up Derek’s spine as he felt Anton’s hand squeezing a very unexpected, very intimate part of his body. He hadn’t expected the big brute to go for it, so he didn’t notice right away, but now that he was aware, it was impossible to ignore.

Derek blushed. Not just that, but even the tips of his ears got hot. His whole face felt like it might burst into flames at the slightest provocation.

He was mortified. Petrified. He couldn’t think of what to do or what to say. He’d never been humiliated like this in front of a class before.

Derek wasn’t even sure why he hadn’t already brushed Anton’s hand away. It would have been so easy to shrug it off and call the whole thing a cute prank but acknowledge that it took skill to get something past him.

The fact was, some tiny part of Derek felt a mild flush of arousal at the feeling of Anton’s large mitt palming his ass.

Derek’s face gradually grew redder and redder. He could feel all the guys looking at him. They might have had grudging respect for him at the start of the fight, when he so easily turned Anton aside, but now he felt as if all of that was trickling away.

To make matters worse, he still hadn’t pushed Anton’s hand away. If he allowed it to linger any longer, he was going to give the guys the impression that he liked this.

Anton wasn’t even just palming Derek’s ass cheek. He was getting really handsy with it. He was actively playing with it, squeezing and kneading the one cheek he’d grabbed in one hand.

Derek’s brain short-circuited. His cock twitched in his pants. He had no idea why this was turning him on. He was straight. He wasn’t supposed to get aroused by being manhandled, and certainly not by the rough, thuggish sort that Anton seemed to be.

“Y-you were lucky,” Derek muttered. He’d been silent for well over half a minute, and the first words out of his mouth sounded like a pathetic excuse. As if he’d needed any more humiliation.

Taking a breath, Derek clawed back his composure. He had to at least try to salvage his credit with these guys. “Sorry. What I mean to say is that beginner’s luck plays its role, but I think what truly deserves credit is Anton’s quick, unconventional thinking. And more to the point, take this as a lesson on why you should never be complacent.”

Gods. Derek hoped this would work. He couldn’t have his students thinking that he was a sore loser. “I should have been more vigilant about keeping up my guard, but because I was fighting a beginner, I was lax. Anton found a blind spot and exploited it, which should be commended.”

Anton cracked a grin and joked, “No, sir. I was just trying to cop a feel.” At the very least, Derek hoped that Anton was just joking.

“A-anyway, although this isn’t the result I anticipated—again, well done—my point stands. There’s a difference between martial arts and just brawling. Tell me”—Derek turned to Anton—“how much more energy did you have to expend just to try and touch me compared to the worst, most difficult fight you can remember?”

“A lot,” Anton conceded. “You were one slippery motherfucker, and you weren’t just quick. You knew what I was going for before I even started, and you reacted just like that”—Anton snapped his fingers—“so I knew I had to change tactics.”

“That is a skill that you all will find valuable whether you’re sparring with another martial artist or brawling out on the streets,” said Derek. “You have to be able to think on your feet. Adapt to what your opponent is doing.”

“I honestly didn’t know that last gamble was going to work, but I was glad it did,” said Anton with a grin. “Now I get to boast about being the first guy in the class to beat the teacher.”

Derek’s cheeks turned a darker shade of scarlet. “It was a narrow victory, I’ll give you that,” he said, trying not to sound too bitter about it as he finally brushed Anton’s hand away from his ass. “But I did give you a handicap. I literally had one arm behind my back.”

“Hey, you said it would be considered a victory as long as I got a hand on you, and I’m pretty sure I did,” said Anton. There was even a hint of smugness in his voice. “I probably wouldn’t have agreed to do this if I’d known you were going to be such a sore loser about it.”

Derek scowled. “I’m not being a sore loser,” he said. He wasn’t prone to losing his temper, but there was only so much indignity he could suffer in one night. He didn’t appreciate the implication that he lacked grace in defeat. “I’m simply explaining that if I had used all my skills, you would not have been able to touch me.”

“Well, duh. I’m a beginner, as you said,” said Anton. “It would be pretty stupid if you went all out against me from the start. You got beat at your own game because you were complacent. Don’t be so salty about it. It’s not my fault martial arts aren’t as amazing as you were making them out to be.”

Derek blinked. Well, he thought to himself, now that is taking things a bit far. “But they are amazing. The fact you had to struggle so hard just to reach me is a testament to that.”

“I’m not convinced,” said Anton. “Maybe you’re just not as good of a teacher as you thought you were.”

Derek was about to argue back, but he just about managed to catch himself. It wasn’t like him to let a student get under his skin.

He didn’t know if Anton was deliberately trying to get a rise out of him, but something about the guy’s bluntness didn’t sit well with Derek. “Alright,” he said after a moment, “I think we started off on the wrong foot. Why don’t we make a bet?”

“As long as you don’t get huffy about it when you lose.”

Derek gave Anton a flat look. “I’ll teach you martial arts. You learn what you can. Then, we’ll see which you prefer at the end: your scrappy fighting style, or actual martial arts.”

Anton cracked a grin. “I’m not convinced. I like scrappy,” he said. “But I’ll hear you out, at least.”

Derek smiled. He was relieved, if he was being honest. At least it seemed there were no bad feelings. “And you’re volunteering to help me with the demonstrations, right?”

Anton cocked an eyebrow. “I mean, sure. Fine by me. But just so you know—I learn best hands-on.”

Derek gave Anton a quizzical look. “What do you mean by that?”

Anton came up behind Derek. He leaned in, the heat of his breath ghosting against the side of Derek’s neck. He wrapped one hand around the front of Derek’s chest, palming a meaty pec through the fabric of Derek’s uniform.

His other hand slid down the back of Derek’s pants. He grabbed a handful of ass cheek, his thumb rubbing up and down along the cleft of Derek’s ass. When he spoke, his voice was low and gravelly, like sex in Derek’s ear. “I mean I need full physical contact,” he said.

Derek gulped. Sparks flew as his brain short-circuited. Instead of pulling away or pushing Anton off him, he just stood there like a stooge.

His cock swelled, straining against the fabric of his pants until there was a visible lump in his uniform. Deprived of the confidence he had before, he stammered, “D-do you really need to be s-so handsy?”

“It’s the best way for me to learn,” Anton murmured in Derek’s ear, “and I’m sure the same’s true of the other guys.”

Derek swallowed thickly. He did pride himself on tailoring his students’ instruction to what worked best for them. If this was what Anton and the rest of the group needed, though… Gods. He wasn’t sure how he was meant to survive it.

More to the point, he had no idea why it was making him so horny. Anton’s callused fingers touching his body were turning him on so much. It didn’t make sense. He liked women. He wasn’t interested in men. He’d been straight his whole life.

Derek’s spine tingled as Anton continued to massage the cleft of his ass. A haze of arousal had started to descend on his thoughts. He was struggling to even remember what he’d wanted to teach this group tonight.

It came to him after a minute or so, but fuck. Anton’s touch was so distracting. “H-hey, could you, uh… Could you let me go?” said Derek. For some reason, he couldn’t find the firm, assertive voice he typically used for his lessons.

“It’s fine,” said Anton. “Just continue. I’ll pick it up as you go.”

That wasn’t exactly the answer that Derek had been hoping for, but he didn’t feel like pressing the matter. “R-right…” Fuck. The front of his pants was so tight. His dick was straining. “W-we’re going to start with some basic stances tonight.”

If there was one good thing to come of what Anton was doing, it was that every single pair of eyes in the room was paying close attention to Derek. “Stances are the foundation of martial arts. I-if you don’t have a solid foundation, e-everything is going to come crashing down.”

Derek fought down a moan as Anton’s thumb slid deeper into his crack. “T-the easiest foe to defeat is the one that is off balance. Y-you can’t move effectively i-if you don’t know just h-how to stand.”

“Huh. Now that you mention it, that makes a lot of sense,” said Anton. “Why don’t you demonstrate, teach? I’ll copy you.”

Derek gulped audibly and nodded. “Alright,” he said. “That’s a good idea.”

He lowered himself into the first of the basic stances he’d intended to teach, but had to bite back a moan as Anton’s hand crept around the side of his leg to the front of his body. He sucked in a breath through his teeth when Anton’s fingers caressed the outline of his cock, mustering every ounce of willpower to suppress the noises that were threatening to spill from his lips.

“Are you sure this is the stance?” said Anton. “I’m no expert, but I thought this was supposed to be stable? You’re wobbling a bit. Is that supposed to happen?”

Anton was teasing Derek. He had to be. There was no way that the big brute was ignorant of the effect he was having on Derek, especially since he continued to molest Derek’s chest.

Those thick, brutish fingers dug into the meat of Derek’s firm pectoral. They squeezed and kneaded his chest, palming him through the fabric of his dogi.

“Are you supposed to be pushing your chest out like this?” said Anton. Since Anton was behind him, Derek couldn’t see the smirk that must have been playing on the big brute’s lips when he said those words, but Derek could hear it.

No. No, Derek’s chest wasn’t supposed to be pushed out like this, but what was he supposed to do? Anton was teasing his nipples through his top, pinching, tweaking, twisting, and tugging at them through his uniform.

Derek had never felt more sensitive or wound up in his life. Every time Anton flicked his nipple, a bolt of electric pleasure surged through Derek. It felt so good he couldn’t help but chase the sensation.

His body moved on its own. He arched his spine. He pulled his shoulders back. The natural consequence was his chest puffing out, pushing his pec into the grip of Anton’s hand.

Sweat beaded on Derek’s brow. He was losing his fucking mind. He needed to regain control, but he didn’t even know where to start. “S-sorry,” he stammered as sweat trickled down the side of his face. “I-I’m just finding it really difficult to focus right now.”

“That’s alright,” Anton cooed right into Derek’s ear. “Take your time, teach. We all want to make sure we’re learning the right pose. You don’t want us picking up any bad habits, do you?”

“No,” Derek shook his head and swallowed thickly. “N-no. That won’t do. U-um…” He licked his lips. “T-this is close to the right pose. I-I just need to adjust a bit.”

“Oh yeah, you do,” said Anton, the heat of his breath making the lobe of Derek’s ear tingle. “I’m not an expert, but I can tell…” he added while squeezing Derek’s cock.

“L-let me—” Derek took a breath. It was all he could do not to moan out loud as Anton’s callused fingers rubbed his shaft. “—L-let me s-show you the a-actual stance…”

---

Derek was sweating, but not from the touch of Anton’s hands exploring his body. The mere memory was enough to make his cheeks warm, arousal coiling in the pit of his stomach.

He didn’t want to think about it, but now that it had come to mind, he couldn’t stop. He remembered how it felt to have Anton’s rough hands on his skin, how hot the man’s hands had felt.

A part of Derek wanted nothing more than to feel those hands roaming over every inch of his naked skin, but he pushed down the thought. He didn’t want to confront it. He didn’t want to acknowledge it. He wasn’t even in a position to be thinking about it, to begin with.

The distraction was nearly enough to cost Derek. He blocked an attack coming in from his left and ducked out of one coming in from his right. He hopped up to avoid a leg sweep and then caught an arm hooking toward him from the side.

With a grunt, Derek swung his attacker around to disrupt another attack that was in progress. The two boys slammed into one another with a loud thud before crashing onto the mat.

Derek landed and blocked one final blow before saying, “Alright, that’s enough. You guys are giving me a run for my money.”

This group constituted the dojo’s most advanced class. What they were learning was only one step down from the techniques and arts that Derek and his family used on their actual missions.

The advanced class were all guys around Leo’s age. The youngest one had turned 18 just last month. They were making a lot of progress, improving by leaps and bounds thanks to their natural talents.

“I admit, I didn’t expect you guys to push me so hard tonight,” said Derek, putting aside any thoughts of what had happened earlier in the evening with the adult group. “I’m a bit curious about what brought this on.”

None of the boys could make eye contact with Derek. That was his first indication that something wasn’t quite right. This group was usually fairly open with him, and he could tell that they were holding something back. Something big, too, judging by the clear guilt written on their faces.

Sven, the de facto leader of the bunch, was the one to face Derek and speak up. “It’s not that deep, Sir,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about anything. We just thought that it was about time we gave you an actual challenge. We know we haven’t been the best at teamwork in the past, so we’ve been focusing on it.”

“It’s the only way we’ll be able to surpass you in our current state, after all,” said one of the other boys.

Derek laughed. “Well, clearly you’re just going to have to work just a little bit harder if that’s your goal,” he said. “Because I’m not resting on my laurels, either. I’m improving every day that I can, and that’s what you guys should be doing. That’s the mindset of someone who’s on this path. You should never be satisfied. You can always hone your skills.”

He wasn’t sure what the boys weren’t telling him, but he wasn’t going to pry. Trust was important, and he didn’t think they would come clean even if he pressed them on it. He could only hope that they weren’t getting into trouble.

Taking on a more serious tone, Derek continued, “Right now, though, you guys need to be focusing on more important things. You’re at a critical time in your lives, and you need to be thinking about how to make the most of the opportunities that you have.”

Derek looked at each of his students and said, “You all need to be thinking about university, and not just training your bodies. Now’s not the time to be distracted because this is when you should be laying the groundwork for your future.”

He was quiet for a moment before adding, “College didn’t work out for me because of my circumstances, but you guys have such bright futures ahead of you. You need to put yourselves in the best position to grow and fulfill your potential.”

Sven nodded. “We promise, Sir,” he said. “We won’t get distracted by unimportant stuff.”

Derek gave the boys a small smile. “Alright,” he said. “Then you guys won’t mind cutting things a bit short tonight, then? It’s a school night, after all, and gods know you’ve more than put me through my paces.”

The boys chuckled. “No, Sir, we don’t mind,” they said.

“Alright. Then you’d better run along. I’m sure you have schoolwork to do, still. I’ll see you at our next session, and you better keep your noses out of trouble!”

Sven chuckled. “We’ll do our best, Sir. Not that it’s ever stopped Nate.”

“Hey, fuck you!”

---

With the boys from his advanced class gone, Derek was left alone with his thoughts. He was trying not to think about what had happened with the adult class, which left him with little choice but to ruminate on the boys.

Truth be told, he was worried. He’d seen the look in Sven’s eyes—in all their eyes. Not just that, but they’d fought with a ferocity they’d never shown him before. The clear guilt on all of their faces—especially when he said something about keeping out of trouble—only served to heighten his concerns.

The boys weren’t like Derek and his family. They weren’t espers, but regular people, just about. They’d awakened their Qi, which meant they could do things regular people couldn’t, but they couldn’t and never would be able to control it to the same degree of ease and proficiency as Trevor, Derek, and his brothers.

At their level, the boys were able to fight like no one else. They were capable of standing toe-to-toe with the best human athletes in the world, Derek was sure of it, but they had their limits. Their abilities wouldn’t save them from a bullet or a speeding car.

The thing Derek feared the most was the boys turning to vigilantism. It wasn’t a life for everyone, least of all those who didn’t have superhuman strength or enhanced healing abilities. It was a line of work that was fraught with peril.

People like Derek and his family made enemies. Dangerous enemies. They could handle the threats since they had trained for them and planned for them. They had strategies, tactics, and contingencies for any scenario they could think of. They didn’t do any of this on a whim, and he doubted that the boys were capable of being anywhere near as organized.

Derek jumped when he heard the back door to the main hall open behind him. He half-expected one of his brothers, but it was Peter who walked in.

“It looks like I’ll have to do some extra training,” said Peter with a quiet laugh. “I was watching you guys, and it was pretty impressive. Those guys are young, but they’re very good at what they do.”

Derek felt a twinge of discomfort at Peter’s presence. He still didn’t quite know what to make of the guy. Peter had come out of nowhere, offering a lot of money for private lessons that they hadn’t offered in a while and had somehow gotten his dad to agree. Knowing that Peter was his dad’s gay lover did go some way to explaining that part, but he really didn’t want to think about it.

Ever since that bombshell revelation over breakfast the other day, Derek had convinced himself that the money was the reason Trevor agreed to give Peter private lessons. The alternative didn’t even bear thinking about, though the image of Peter and his dad making out on the ground in the middle of the training mat flitted through his head and made his cock twitch.

Derek didn’t know what it was. He was getting a weird vibe off of Peter. It wasn’t malicious—or at least, he didn’t think it was—but he just couldn’t put a finger on it.

If he had to describe it, it was something like the feeling of having a predator prowling in the woods. He could almost envision it—him in the forest at night with a fire crackling in the middle of camp. The feeling he got off of Peter was the same feeling he expected he would get if he saw the flickering yellow-red firelight catching in the gleaming eyes of a beast circling the clearing.

Suffice it to say, Derek wasn’t exactly happy to learn that Peter had an eye on his advanced class. Still, he felt obliged to act friendly. Whatever his misgivings were about Peter, his dad seemed to like the guy well enough, and it had been a long time since he’d seen Trevor so happy to be with someone.

“They’re good, I’ll give them that,” said Derek. He met Peter’s gaze briefly, but felt a twinge of what felt like fear, except it couldn’t have been. He had no reason to be afraid of Peter.

Pushing the thought aside, Derek continued. “They’ve got a long way to go, though. And the one thing they don’t have is real experience.”

Peter chuckled. “From where I was standing, it looked pretty clear to me that they were keen to get that real experience you’re talking about,” he said. “Whether you approve or not.”

Derek bristled at the implication and was about to say something about it when Peter went and said it out loud, anyway.

“You should pay closer attention to your students. I mean, if that’s the kind of thing that you can miss…”

Derek pursed his lips. “I keep a close enough eye on them,” he said. “I don’t need you lecturing me about my students. They’re young and reckless, sure, but they’re not stupid.”

Peter seemed unconvinced. Unimpressed.

“I’ve told them time and time again that vigilantism isn’t an option,” said Derek. “They’re going to listen. I’m sure of it.”

“Wow,” Peter laughed. “I’d heard you were a bit of a hard-ass, but I always thought they were exaggerating. Were you ever a teenager yourself, or were you just born with a stick up your ass? No offense.”

Derek cocked an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to not take offense to that?”

Peter shrugged. “I’m just saying. You act and think like an ornery old man trapped in a hot mid-20s hunk. Do you have any idea how a teenager’s brain works?”

“I-I like to think I have a working understanding.” Derek felt his cheeks warm. Yes, he was concerned that he was too serious sometimes, but he liked to think that he wasn’t so detached that he couldn’t figure out what a bunch of guys just a few years younger than him were thinking.

“Oh, really?” said Peter. He seemed skeptical at best. “Because if you did, then you would know that the moment you told them not to become vigilantes, you pretty much sewed their costumes yourself. You pretty much put the weapons in their hands and shoved them in front of the petty criminals plaguing these streets.”

Derek shook his head. They wouldn’t do that. “I know these kids,” he said. They’d always listened to him. They’d always accepted his advice. He’d taught them to be forward-thinking, and to act on reason, not impulse. “They’re better than that.”

Peter chuckled. “Don’t you know that there’s nothing more appealing to young, hot-blooded men than the thing they’ve been told they absolutely cannot have?” he said.

“Honey, you’re a stickler for rules, which isn’t a bad thing… But you’re a special case. Not everyone is like you. Some people find a thrill in coloring outside the lines.”

Derek scowled. “You stay the hell out of things that have nothing to do with you!” he said, perhaps more forcefully than he’d intended. “These kids are my responsibility, and the last thing that I need—the last thing they need is someone like you putting weird ideas in their heads.”

Peter took a step back and held his arms up, palms forward, in the universal sign of surrender.

“These kids are good kids!” Derek insisted, though he wasn’t sure why he was being so defensive. “I trust that they’ll listen to reason. I didn’t just tell them that they couldn’t be vigilantes. I told them all the reasons they shouldn’t be.”

Even as he spoke the words, Derek couldn’t help but feel a pang of dread. He wanted to trust Sven and the boys. He was trying to. But Peter’s comments had planted a seed of doubt inside him.

“They’re smart young men,” said Derek—as if he weren’t a young man himself. “They’ll know not to do anything stupid that could put themselves in harm’s way or jeopardize their futures,” he added, though at this point he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Peter or himself.

Peter just chuckled, shrugged, and said, “Well, suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though. I’ll see you upstairs.”