The brothers exchanged glances, their eyes scanning Damon up and down before nodding at each other. "Mmh," one of them grunted, their drunken gazes settling on him.
Damon repeated himself, calmly but firmly. "Can you please keep the noise down? Just trying to rest."
The two brothers looked at each other again, then back at Damon. After a beat, one of them slurred, "Sure, man, sure. We'll do that."
Damon nodded, thankful that it had gone smoothly without any trouble.
He gave them a nod of appreciation, and they returned it, though still swaying slightly in their drunken state.
He turned and walked back to his room, hoping that would be the end of the noise for the night.
As Damon walked back, he paused for a moment to listen.
The house had finally gone quiet. He smiled to himself, relieved that his request seemed to have worked.
Returning to his room, he climbed back into bed, letting out a small chuckle. "Maybe they're not metal heads after all," he muttered, feeling the tension leave his body.
He closed his eyes, trying to summon the sleep that had been so rudely interrupted earlier.
Within moments, the quiet and calm began to take over, and his exhaustion finally pulled him back toward rest.
Just as sleep began to take him, the laughter from outside returned, louder this time.
Damon's eyes shot open, and he could hear the unmistakable voices of the drunk brothers.
"Yo, can you believe that guy?" one of them slurred, as they began the mockery. "Like we're in some kinda fuckin' library or something," he scoffed, his brother laughing in response.
"Yeah, what's his problem? Thinks he's gonna win The Supreme Fighter just because he knocked one dude out? Pfft."
"I know, right? 'Please keep it down,' my ass," the first one sneered. "Bet he's one of those dudes that cries when he loses a fight. 'Mom, I got punched in the face!'" The mocking tone was followed by exaggerated sniffling and more laughter.
"'Can you keep it down, please?' Like we're kids or something," he sneered, the sound of a bottle clinking followed.
"Yeah, like we're supposed to just sit here quiet 'cause he wants to sleep? Fuck outta here," the other one scoffed. "What does he think this is, a fuckin' sleepover?"
They both erupted into more laughter. "Bet he thinks he's some kinda tough guy, coming in all serious. 'Hey guys, can you please keep it down?'" The first brother mimicked Damon in a high-pitched voice, followed by another round of obnoxious laughter.
As Damon pushed open the door to the living room, the two brothers, still laughing loudly, were startled when they saw him standing there.
Damon's face was hard, all the politeness he'd shown earlier now gone. "I said keep the noise down," his voice firm, cutting through the drunken atmosphere.
The shorter of the two brothers, slightly swaying on his feet, looked at Damon and smirked. "Or what?"
Damon narrowed his eyes, his patience quickly wearing thin.
Meanwhile, outside at the gazebo, the team was still in high spirits, laughing and drinking, unaware of the tension brewing inside the house.
One of the fighters, the guy from Philly, took a swig from his beer, then furrowed his brow as he heard something different amidst the usual sounds of the house.
"Yo, you hear that?" he said, looking toward the house. "Sounds like something's going on in there." He stood up, setting his beer down on the table. "I'm gonna check it out."
The others shrugged but stayed put, continuing to enjoy the moment as the Philly guy walked toward the house, curious about the noise.
Back in the house, before Damon could respond, the taller brother chimed in with a mocking grin. "Yeah, or what? You gonna fight both of us? Why don't you turn around and take a fuckin' shit while you're at it?"
Damon's expression didn't change, but his voice was ice-cold as he replied, "You don't live alone in this house, so shut the fuck up."
The brothers blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting such a blunt response.
The younger brother pushed his older brother to the side, glaring at Damon with cocky eyes. "Lookie here, bitch. This is our house, and the man of the house does whatever the fuck he wants. No one tells the man of the house what to do."
His speech was slurred, but Damon could see the arrogance in his expression.
Logan glanced over at his older brother with a smug look, then back to Damon, his voice full of sarcasm. "Or what, boy? Did your father not teach you how to act in front of the man–"
Damon didn't give Logan a chance to finish his sentence.
His face twisted with anger and pure hatred as he lunged forward, shoving Logan hard.
In a split second, before anyone could react, Damon speared Logan straight through the table, the wood splintering on impact.
Logan barely had time to register what had happened before Damon was on top of him, fists raining down in a number of ground-and-pound punches.
Each hit connected with Logan's stunned face, giving him no chance to defend himself.
Brian's eyes widened as he saw his brother get taken down.
His drunken state quickly faded, the reality of the situation hitting him like a cold splash of water. Panicking, Brian rushed to his brother's aid, grabbing Damon and trying to pull him off.
"Dude, stop! You're gonna get us all kicked out!" Brian shouted, his voice filled with desperation as he tried to deescalate the situation, realizing the consequences if things got worse.
The Philly guy burst into the room, his eyes wide as he saw Damon on top of Logan, fists flying.
He immediately grabbed Damon by the shoulders, helping Brian pull him back.
Logan, now free, scrambled to his feet, rage in his eyes as he charged at Damon. "You fucking pussy! You cheap-shot piece of shit! Sneakin' up on me like that, huh? You ain't shit!"