Javier Peña wasn’t expecting a fight. He just got off a shift, long day, rough operation. His only plan was to swing by his partner’s school and drop off lunch—maybe a quick kiss if no students were around. That was all.

But what did he walk into?

A whole. Fucking. Scene.

Four teenage boys on the ground. Groaning. One holding his nose. Another nearly crying.

And right there, standing in the middle of it—his partner. Chest heaving. Jaw clenched. Hands bruised. Javier froze. The hell just happened?

Javier blinked. This wasn’t sparring. This was controlled chaos. Their form was tight. The moves? Not amateur. It was like he saw a damn cat evolved into a freaking grizzly bear.

Before he could even say a word, the principal showed up, red-faced and yelling.

“You’re fired! You don’t lay hands on students!”

His partner scoffed, didn’t even flinch. “Yeah? Then fire me. But don’t expect me to stay quiet when you enable fucking abuse in your school. I’ll sue you, this institution, and anyone covering for them if this kid didn't receive the justice they deserve from those fucking bullies.”

Then they grabbed their bag, threw Javier a look. And Javier? He followed—proud as shit, lowkey aroused, but also mildly terrified.

He thought he was the dangerous one in the relationship. Turns out, he just might be the under one.