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nothingtoregretRating: G
Word Count: 1,052
Summary: Even the martial arts classes Alex enjoys get disrupted by rivalries.
The martial arts classes turned out to be the most interesting part of the day, if not necessarily the most enjoyable. Three different styles, in rotation; Alex was only familiar with two of them and only practiced one of those on a regular basis in his own department.
Kennet was familiar with two as well. Alex just wished, for once, that they were the same ones. It was bad enough struggling to learn a new style as his body groaned and protested under the hammering it was receiving during the other two, that it was Kennet making life difficult with the third made it so much worse.
It made sense partnering new students with experienced ones, he recognised that. But why did it have to be him? He wondered it every time he crashed into the floor, the blond’s fingers wrapped so hard around his wrists that it had been a week since he’d seen anything but blue ringing the joints; he hadn’t yet come up with an answer beyond petty jealousy or revenge.
The kung fu classes were always a relief. These he knew: he’d been trained at home since the age of eight when his supervisors concluded that since they’d so far failed to kill him he might one day turn out to be useful. The same logic that partnered him with Kennet in aikido kept them at opposite sides of the room during these sessions; Alex could train in peace with his less-experienced classmates and appreciate the opportunity to take his time and think about his form and if they were bothered by his lack of chat they made no mention of it. The classes were almost pleasant.
Almost. “Alex, today you’ll be partnered with Kennet.”
He stared in horror at the instructor. He wanted to protest, to point out that he didn’t want to spar with someone of the same skill level as himself when he could help the others instead. He already knew it wouldn’t help. And judging from Kennet’s scowl at the instructor’s back as the man turned away, he agreed on both counts.
They practiced in silence. Neither of them pulled their punches when sparring with the others—there was no point, it would only give them unrealistic expectations later on—but now each move was aimed at Alex with intent to injure and he had every intention of giving as good as he got.
But it was so frustrating! He swung his foot at Kennet’s head, only to have it blocked; Kennet swept at his supporting leg and he danced away; more than once they tried the same move at the same time, only to block each other with it. Why couldn’t he just foul up, just for once, and give him an opening? Given one chance, just one, he’d have him on the ground where he should be. Below Alex.
Annoyed, he aimed a kick at Kennet’s face, only to feel the familiar jarring impact of an ankle smacking into his own. Beyond, the blond smirked at him, balancing just as easily on one leg as Alex. “Hurry up and fall over.”
Alex pulled his foot back, settling into his stance and shifting around. Hard as it was to keep his face impassive, the last thing he wanted to do was give his irritating sparring partner any more ammunition. He dodged a punch; Kennet darted away to avoid the retaliation, then another foot was swinging up at his head, easily brushed away. He was dimly aware that a kind of hush had fallen over the room now and that they were attracting a few stares. All that mattered was finally knocking his opponent to the ground. He backed up two steps, then flung another foot at the blond’s smug face.
Again an ankle slapped against his own; again its owner gave him the kind of smile he’d just been trying to smash. He could feel Kennet pushing, like he could knock him off balance.
Enough was enough. He grit his teeth, concentrated hard—
—Kennet’s expression was priceless as his own attempts to push carried him on past Alex and down to hit the ground with a thump. “What the— What just happened?!”
Alex lowered his foot slowly, not daring to relax quite yet, even though from the sprawl of arms and legs his opponent wasn’t exactly prepared to leap to his feet. “You fell over.”
“No I didn’t, I was—” He glared up at him, obviously replaying the events in his head. His eyes widened. “You cheated!”
“I didn’t.” It was over. The minute he had to resort to calling Alex a cheat Kennet had lost and, from the hatred flaring in his eyes, he knew it too.
“You did! One minute your leg was there and then... And then it’s like— It... you...” Words finally failed him. Alex was glad; the temptation to kick him in the face was starting to become overwhelming.
“Is there a problem?” The presence of the instructor behind him made the flesh across Alex’s shoulders creep.
“He cheated,” Kennet said flatly, finding his voice again. “He did something— Used a skill or something—”
“Did you use a skill?”
Alex turned to see cold grey eyes fixed on him. He hadn’t wanted to admit it this early, where everyone could see, but there was no point in lying. He nodded slowly.
The eyes assessed him for a little longer, then slid away to stare down at Kennet, who was only just pushing himself into a standing position. “Then you didn’t cheat. Please go and partner Lucia. Kennet, you can take five minutes to recover, then find yourself a new partner.” Before either boy could answer he’d moved to work with another pair.
Alex knew he should offer Kennet a hand. He just didn’t feel like it. Instead he turned on his heel and found small blonde Lucia, all the while very aware of a feeling between his shoulder blades like someone was boring a hole into him. If looks could kill he was sure he’d have died before he made it three steps across the floor. Kennet was a sore loser.
Well, so was he, and after aikido—which he was sure would now be twice the ordeal—he’d needed just one little win to call his own.
Word Count: 1,052
Summary: Even the martial arts classes Alex enjoys get disrupted by rivalries.
The martial arts classes turned out to be the most interesting part of the day, if not necessarily the most enjoyable. Three different styles, in rotation; Alex was only familiar with two of them and only practiced one of those on a regular basis in his own department.
Kennet was familiar with two as well. Alex just wished, for once, that they were the same ones. It was bad enough struggling to learn a new style as his body groaned and protested under the hammering it was receiving during the other two, that it was Kennet making life difficult with the third made it so much worse.
It made sense partnering new students with experienced ones, he recognised that. But why did it have to be him? He wondered it every time he crashed into the floor, the blond’s fingers wrapped so hard around his wrists that it had been a week since he’d seen anything but blue ringing the joints; he hadn’t yet come up with an answer beyond petty jealousy or revenge.
The kung fu classes were always a relief. These he knew: he’d been trained at home since the age of eight when his supervisors concluded that since they’d so far failed to kill him he might one day turn out to be useful. The same logic that partnered him with Kennet in aikido kept them at opposite sides of the room during these sessions; Alex could train in peace with his less-experienced classmates and appreciate the opportunity to take his time and think about his form and if they were bothered by his lack of chat they made no mention of it. The classes were almost pleasant.
Almost. “Alex, today you’ll be partnered with Kennet.”
He stared in horror at the instructor. He wanted to protest, to point out that he didn’t want to spar with someone of the same skill level as himself when he could help the others instead. He already knew it wouldn’t help. And judging from Kennet’s scowl at the instructor’s back as the man turned away, he agreed on both counts.
They practiced in silence. Neither of them pulled their punches when sparring with the others—there was no point, it would only give them unrealistic expectations later on—but now each move was aimed at Alex with intent to injure and he had every intention of giving as good as he got.
But it was so frustrating! He swung his foot at Kennet’s head, only to have it blocked; Kennet swept at his supporting leg and he danced away; more than once they tried the same move at the same time, only to block each other with it. Why couldn’t he just foul up, just for once, and give him an opening? Given one chance, just one, he’d have him on the ground where he should be. Below Alex.
Annoyed, he aimed a kick at Kennet’s face, only to feel the familiar jarring impact of an ankle smacking into his own. Beyond, the blond smirked at him, balancing just as easily on one leg as Alex. “Hurry up and fall over.”
Alex pulled his foot back, settling into his stance and shifting around. Hard as it was to keep his face impassive, the last thing he wanted to do was give his irritating sparring partner any more ammunition. He dodged a punch; Kennet darted away to avoid the retaliation, then another foot was swinging up at his head, easily brushed away. He was dimly aware that a kind of hush had fallen over the room now and that they were attracting a few stares. All that mattered was finally knocking his opponent to the ground. He backed up two steps, then flung another foot at the blond’s smug face.
Again an ankle slapped against his own; again its owner gave him the kind of smile he’d just been trying to smash. He could feel Kennet pushing, like he could knock him off balance.
Enough was enough. He grit his teeth, concentrated hard—
—Kennet’s expression was priceless as his own attempts to push carried him on past Alex and down to hit the ground with a thump. “What the— What just happened?!”
Alex lowered his foot slowly, not daring to relax quite yet, even though from the sprawl of arms and legs his opponent wasn’t exactly prepared to leap to his feet. “You fell over.”
“No I didn’t, I was—” He glared up at him, obviously replaying the events in his head. His eyes widened. “You cheated!”
“I didn’t.” It was over. The minute he had to resort to calling Alex a cheat Kennet had lost and, from the hatred flaring in his eyes, he knew it too.
“You did! One minute your leg was there and then... And then it’s like— It... you...” Words finally failed him. Alex was glad; the temptation to kick him in the face was starting to become overwhelming.
“Is there a problem?” The presence of the instructor behind him made the flesh across Alex’s shoulders creep.
“He cheated,” Kennet said flatly, finding his voice again. “He did something— Used a skill or something—”
“Did you use a skill?”
Alex turned to see cold grey eyes fixed on him. He hadn’t wanted to admit it this early, where everyone could see, but there was no point in lying. He nodded slowly.
The eyes assessed him for a little longer, then slid away to stare down at Kennet, who was only just pushing himself into a standing position. “Then you didn’t cheat. Please go and partner Lucia. Kennet, you can take five minutes to recover, then find yourself a new partner.” Before either boy could answer he’d moved to work with another pair.
Alex knew he should offer Kennet a hand. He just didn’t feel like it. Instead he turned on his heel and found small blonde Lucia, all the while very aware of a feeling between his shoulder blades like someone was boring a hole into him. If looks could kill he was sure he’d have died before he made it three steps across the floor. Kennet was a sore loser.
Well, so was he, and after aikido—which he was sure would now be twice the ordeal—he’d needed just one little win to call his own.
