This is a small TV role that Pedro did a long time ago called Lights Out. I haven't seen the TV show, but there's a clip of it on YouTube.

You're a close friend of Omar's and he's talking a lot about his first boxing match.

You're worried about him and keep trying to talk him out of it.

Strong language and a little innuendo.

I also think that this will be a three part one shot.

.............

You're waiting for your good friend, Omar. He's been working himself like a dog over these few months because he's planning on doing this crazy boxing match.

You hate the thought of Omar of getting beat to a bloody mess. You cringe just imagining that.

You pace back and forth inside the entrance to the gym where Omar trains every single day at two o'clock in the afternoon.

You look over over and finally spot him coming, his black gym bag dangling over his left shoulder as he strides closer, a hard look on his handsome face.

He sees you standing there and the hard look on his face is replaced with one of happiness. You try to smile as well, but your stomach is churning.

"Hey, Y/N," Omar drawls. You feel yourself melting. God, he's really handsome.

"Hey. So? You're still planning on doing this fight thing, huh?"

Omar's expression changes quickly. He looks pissed. Crap! You just had to go shoot your mouth off.

"You know I am." Omar stalks angrily into the gym and you just stand there, unsure if you should follow him. You sigh and finally decide to go after him.

Omar is heading towards the boxing ring and slings his bag down to the floor.

"I'm sorry, " you say when you reach him. "I just worry about you."

Omar turns to look at you. His expression softens slightly as he reaches over to gently brush his fingers over your cheek and you give him a smile.

"You don't need to worry about me, baby. I'll be perfectly fine." You have serious doubts about that. You've seen what happens at these damn boxing matches. The guys aren't exactly hitting each other with pillows.

You lean against the wall, close to the boxing ring, watching silently as Omar preps himself. You wonder who he'll be training with.

A bald, overweight man comes out of the office and strides closer to Omar and you. You notice that this guy is grinning, like he knows some damn secret.

"Omar, my prize fighter! You are going to wow everyone at the match next week!" You turn your head, rolling your eyes. What an old, fat wind bag.

"Damn straight I am!" Omar grins proudly, like he actually has something to be proud of. Asshole. He hasn't done anything yet to be proud of.

The man looks over at you and laughs. It makes your skin crawl. So help you, if that fatso touches you, he's losing some fingers.

"Is this your lucky charm?" The
man grins at you and it makes you want to vomit. Omar must see the look on your face because he jumps in to save the day.

"Yeah, she is. Now, if you don't mind, Vinny, I gotta get myself ready for next week."

Vinny nods, clapping Omar on his shoulder and walks back to his office. You breathe easier once he's gone.

"You don't have to talk with him. Ever. Okay?" You nod, reaching out to touch Omar's face. Oh, how you ache for him to give this shit up.

"Okay. Who's your opponent this afternoon?"

"Billy." Omar gives your hand a gentle squeeze and winks at you. You smile, but deep down inside, your heart is breaking.

............

You decide to stick around during Omar's training session, hoping that you can go home with him afterwards.

The actual training session isn't awful. You wish that the actual fight would be the same. You know better. You've seen enough crap to really get yiu worked up.

Why, oh, why did Omar decide that he wanted to be a damn boxer? He could have picked anything else and you would have supported him with that.

Well. Maybe not anything else. What he decided to be a race car driver? Or a police officer? Or an astronaut? Okay, you don't think Omar would have chosen the last two.

But he could have picked something else as equally dangerous and stupid. You never understood why grown men wanted to have a profession where they beat the living tar out of each other. Who the hell even came up with this absurd idea?

You watch Omar dive and weave. You watch him land punches all over Billy's thick, muscled form. And you tense up every single time Billy lands a punch to Omar's face.

You look away for a few minutes, your mind twirling faster and faster. You suddenly realize with a start, that Omar will most likely expect you to be at the fight. Oh, shit. You're not sure you're can do that.

You look back at your beautiful Omar and suddenly, everything goes black.

.............

You blink. Shit. What happened? You can't remember. Oh, man! Your head hurts.

"Y/N?" You hear. "Hey." You struggle to focus for a few minutes before Omar's face swims into view. He looks so tender that you almost can't believe this is the same man who fights for a chance to go pro.

"What happened?" You try to sit up but that makes your vision swim again.

"You passed out. God, when I saw what happened, I nearly passed out myself."

Omar gently presses his lips to your forehead and you lean into his chest. You realize too late, that he drenched in sweat. Oh well. You like being close to him this way.

"Come on, baby girl. I'll take you home."

"My...car. I can't just leave it here."

"I'll drive you home in your car." Omar scoops you up into his strong arms and carries you out.

"But...but I wanted to spend some time with you. At your place."

"Then we'll go to my place." Omar gently sets you down, propping you against him as he unlocks the car door and gets it open to set you inside.

"What about your car?"

"I didn't bring it. I took the bus." Omar gets you settled, tosses his gym bag into the back seat and joins you in the car.

............

You're clinging to Omar as you cuddle on his couch. He keeps asking you if you're okay. It's really sweet of him.

"You really had me worried there for a minute, baby." You smile, stroking his hair.

"Now maybe you'll understand how I feel about you always wanting to do these outrageous fights."

"I told you, I'll be fine. Don't worry about it." You gently kiss him, just wanting him to shut up. Omar kisses you back and for a few minutes, that's all you're doing.

"Omar, please, I'm begging you. Don't do this fight. I have a very bad feeling about it."

"I'm not backing out," Omar says stubbornly. "You're just worried because you've seen so many other fights. But I'm stronger than you know."

Omar kisses you again and you just snuggle close to him.

"All right, Omar."