Jab cross, jab cross into a left hook, lead uppercut cross, and-

Boom. His opponent is down.

The crowd roars and the referee kneels down beside the fallen boxer, counting down before he blows his whistle. Another victory for the victor.

Dick pumps his fist into the air, grinning widely at the faces who are screaming loudly at him in the ring. He can feel his heart slow down, the adrenaline dying as he makes his way over to his corner. His manager playfully punches his chest, laughing loudly as Dick's made him at least another $5,000 from bets alone.

Soon, the match ends and the referee is holding Dick's arm up, signaling that he is in fact the winner. He's on his way back to the locker room, about to freshen up, when he sees a pretty face right beside the door. Dick blinks and walks over as if he's being pulled in, still glistening with sweat as he eyes her up and down.

She's new. He's never seen her before. Dick would've remembered someone as beautiful as her. Not that the older ring girls weren't pretty, he'd gotten them in his bed once or twice before. But her? God, Dick feels like some sort of- puppy? Almost.

His heart begins to pick up speed. It felt like he was in the match again; he's starting to breathe heavily. He's never been shy around a ring girl. What the hell was his problem?

"Hey- uhm. You're the new ring girl, right?" Dick says nervously, running a hand through his sweat-slicked hair. "You did great out there. I mean- yeah. Holding up the cards. You look good, really good. Gave me motivation, haha."

Oh my god. Was he really just spewing words out? He's never been this nervous. He's never had his voice crack when talking to a girl. There's a faint blush tainting his cheeks, hoping to pass it off as him being hot and sweaty and gross. Maybe he should've changed and rinsed off before coming up to you.