kirktastic | [Your Face Under My Fists] -- [Open]

Current Location: Enterprise's Gym

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[Your Face Under My Fists] -- [Open]

Kirk cracked his neck, staring at the bag in front of him. He had a dinner with Bill tonight, and a lot of time between waking and then to waste how he saw fit. He hated sick leave, and with Bones' permission to be off it only a day away, he felt even more restless then normal. So now he was down in the gym, a tee shirt on his body and loose shorts, hands and feet wrapped in tape to keep the skin from getting damaged.

It felt natural to slide into the familiar fighting stance. Front foot pointing at the bag, back foot tilted slightly to the side, knees bent, one fist up and loose and the second about his stomach and loose as well. The muscles knew this pose, fell into it with ease, and seemed to relax all at once. It was something he could do even when blasted drunk, already injured, or half-asleep. And had before.

The first punch was something easy, a quick strike that barely rocked the bag. He was already warmed up, body loosened up from stretches and a run around the gym. Speed. That is what determines the winner, but if you have no bite behind your bark, your opponent may get a strike in slower but with greater strength. It was an older voice in his head, a man he hadn't thought of in years. It had been the first place he had found some semblance of a place to live after Tarsus IV.

He started to talk, immensely grateful that he could get the back most of the gym's smaller rooms. The mat felt new and springy under his feet as he let loose with punch after punch to the bag. Who gave a shit if his log had grunts and the sound of skin against the punching bag?

"So, fuck everything. Let's start off with that," Kirk growled, feet slipping to the side as if he was going against a real opponent. "Still fighting with Jim, and I hate it. Feels like fighting with myself or something. Maybe I am and Jim is just really my conscience," PUNCH, twist, round kick, "That's what he feels like. There's so much going on that I feel like I'm out of the loop. I need to talk to Spock about ship stuff and what happened after the Halloween Party. I don't think it'll be awkward crew wise," KICK, "But..." He hesitated.

"I wish I knew what I felt about that." Kirk shook his head, "Not like me to feel something about sex except when it was with Bones, and even then not all the time. Fuck, that makes me sound like an asshole. I don't want it to mean something. ...Guess it meant something with Jim, too. Feels like he's judging me based on this. What does he know? He's been through a lot of stuff, can't not admit that, but not on this scale. He's apart from it, you know? When he goes home," Why did that make his stomach clench? "When he finally goes back, Vulcan'll be there. Spock'll still have his sky, and the Federation will still be scarred here."

Kirk sucked on his front teeth for a second, then moved lighting fast. His entire body jerked to the side and his knee came up, foot snapping out and striking the bag with the bottom arch of his foot. The entire bag rocked, threatening to fall over, then steadied, "Can't wait to get back on duty. I hate feeling useless and I do right now. I'm really sick of looks of pity when I walk through the hall. I need to get these tattoos off but..."

He stopped, looking down at his left hand. The tape covered Vulcan. "...Maybe... not all of them. Think I'm going to keep some of them, and I have a feeling Bones is going to bitch at me for it." He brushed his other thumb over the tape, then shook it off and went to work against the bag at twice the speed. Point was to exhaust himself. "So many new people on this ship that it's actually getting hard to find space for them all. ...Bones' mom is one of them. New ship psych? At least as close as we've got beside Bones himself."

"Speaking of, I got the final bit of Bones' Christmas gift in. Got it hidden away... plan to surprise the hell out of him. Least I'm pretty sure he'll like it. Can't believe all the holidays, the new year... just a month or so away," Kirk snorted and struck out again, "Is it bad that I fucking hate that we'll be celebrating when Jake and Rachael and Kat won't be? They were supposed to be here, on the 'prise... got transferred at the last second to the Farragut and the Odyssey. Now... they're all dead. Probably should of thought of this on Halloween."

Kirk stepped back from the back, panting. He rubbed a bit of sweat from his eyes, "Nero's still out there, in that black hunking ship of his. Part of it is on the 'prise and I want it off and Spock back here. Wanna get done with those two bastards and have everyone free of them. Me, this crew, the Federation, and all the universes they've seemed to completely fuck up." He growled a little, hitting the bag half heartedly.

"Wish it was his face under my fist."

His next strike sent the bag toppling over.

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John walked into the gym, taking a corner of the mats to stretch. He eyed Kirk warily, still unsure how to handle Kirk after all John had told him. The man seemed intent on beating the living crap out of a punching bag.

Not wanting to disturb him, John went back to stretching. He knew that look, when all you wanted was to pick a fight, and a punching bag was the closest you could get. He didn't want to provoke the captain.

"I hate feeling restless." Kirk snapped, reaching down and lugging the punching bag off the mats. "When I'm not on a god damn ship in the middle of space I can do something about it. Go for a ride..." He set the bag upright, frowning, "Hope someone's given her a ride since I've been gone."

He tugged off his shirt and tossed it to where there was a messy pile of stuff, including a black padd with a small glowing red dot which meant it was recording. "Specially with that tattoo'd bastard hovering around my ship."

Kirk closed his eyes, not realizing he had gained an audience, and stood still in the center of the ring he had been using. He slowed his breathing down.

John's eyes widened as he listened to Kirk talk, spilling out his troubles as if he didn't know anyone could hear.

Which, John realized, he probably didn't.

He was just about to clear his throat, cough, slap the mats, something to let Kirk know he was there when the man decided it would be a good idea to pull off his own shirt.

John couldn't help it. He stopped before he could make himself known, and stared. Kirk was gorgeous. John felt the overwhelming urge to bash his head against the ground. As if things weren't awkward between the two of them as it was. The man was John's commanding officer. The captain of the ship. Not to mention the fact that John had tried his hardest to discourage him when they'd first met.

John let out a tiny sigh. This was going to complicate things.

"Recording off." Kirk called out, then turned sideways, leaving his feet parallel. His arms came up and he let out a cry, and began the kata. The motions were fast, strong, and as if he was striking against an invisible enemy. Each strike was a block and visa versa, his movements liquid into the next.

That was until he turned and faced John directly. He actually went into the next step before he realized someone was staring at him, and his eyes went wide. He fell out of it all at once, practically in a trance from the memory of motion, and just stared before swallowing, "John?"

Fuck, how long had HE been here!?

John watched, transfixed, as Kirk rolled through the movements, body whirling fluidly from one to the other. He was a great appreciator of fighters.

Then Kirk turned and saw him, and everything went to shit.

"Uhh.... Hey."

"Uh, hey?" Kirk said back, blinking before shaking himself out of the last remainders of his near-trance. He glanced around, then stepped forward, "Just... how long have you been here?"

John turned away, staring at the mats. "Long enough."

Fuck. Just how much had John heard?

"...didn't... hear you come in." It was a bit unhappy - why had John sat and listened?

" I didn't hear much. Just heard you talking about... 'going for a ride'. I'm not sure what kind of ride but..." John broke off with a half-hearted chuckle at his own bad joke, wanting to break the tension.

He was pretty sure a lame pun wasn't going to do the trick.

Kirk's lips twitched with the attempted joke and he picked up on it, "Hey, every pretty lady deserves to get ridden good and hard once in a while," He walked over, flexing his taped hands. "A motorcycle. Built her myself, and now she's under a tarp in the academy's parking garage. Hated having to leave her but..."

He shrugged a little, "I don't have anywhere to keep her." No home, any family he had was right here on this ship or dead.

John grinned. "A bike? Nice, Kid. Always wanted one myself but..." he shrugged. "Same as you I guess. Never stayed anywhere long enough to keep one."

Apparently the shitty attempt at humor had worked. Huh.

It was amazing how much like Bones John actually did look. Even the same small facial movements under the exact same face. "I've never had anywhere I could call my own, lucky the academy would even let me keep her there."

Kirk looked around the room pointedly, "This is my home. First place I could call mine." He grinned proudly.

"You've made quite a home out of it, too. This place would be bare bones without the warmth you and your crew bring." He stands, done stretching. "Sorry for not letting you know I was here, Kid. I didn't realize you didn't know."

"I was just sort of... focused." Kirk looked a bit sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's fine. I should have realized that someone was here." He glanced around, then gestured, "You need the space?"

John shook his head. "Nah. I was just warming up. Gonna teach Joanna some moves later."

"Yea?" Kirk perked up, "Still willing to show me the ones you promised?"

"Hell yeah." John smirked, nodding. "Whenever you're ready."

Kirk grinned, feeling a bit more at ease. At least John hadn't heard... everything. "All warmed up and all yours, teach." He bowed, still grinning.

John shrugged. Might as well blow off some steam and spread some knowledge around at the same time. Killing two birds with one stone.

Not that he wanted to kill birds.

"You ever heard of Zui Quan?"

Kirk shook his head, "Not something familiar." He admitted, tilting his head.

"Well, it's also known as Drunken Boxing. It's a kind of fighting that imitates the intoxicated. Lots of staggering, near-falling, flowing movements."

John stood still, then lifted his arms out straight.

" You need to have good, strong joints for it. The point is to confuse your enemies, and have the element of surprise, in that others think you're actually drunk. Plus, the weight you use, swaying and staggering, allows for the channeling of momentum into a truly dangerous weapon."

He leaned precariously to the side, waiting until the mats loomed up in his peripheral vision before pushing off the ground hard, twisting in midair and kicking out before landing on his feet.

Kirk's brows shot up at this, watching unsurely. It was nothing like he had ever seen before in person. "...Never seen anyone fight that way... on purpose. Plenty of drink fights before though..."

"You can't actually do this when you're drunk. Far too acrobatic for an inebriated person to pull off." John weaves and staggers, flicking out a wrist to jab at the air where an opponent's eyes would be, idly lifting a knee to catch an imaginary groin.

"It's fighting dirty in its most refined form."

Kirk frowned, shaking his head, "Not my style, I think." He admitted, tilting his head in the other direction.

John chuckled darkly, staggering into a final roundhouse before settling back into a crouch.

"Not your style? Kid, I hate to tell you this, but often you don't get to choose a style. It's a man kill man world. I don't think anyone should be rejecting information that could save their life because it's not their style. Anyways, I'm not asking you to adopt this as your primary skill. I'm just gonna teach you some moves that you can incorporate into whatever organic fighting you favor." He shook his head, still laughing grimly.

"Everyone's got a style." Kirk pointed out, crossing his arms, "You don't think I know anything about the world? But.. I'll give it a shot."

John sighed. He'd managed to put his foot in his mouth again.

"Okay. You need to work up momentum. Stand straight and tall, then let yourself lean to the left side. We'll work in increments, until you're good enough to lean almost all the way to falling. At this point, though, just lean a little, then move back to a balanced position."

John demonstrated, leaning a bit to his left before pulling his body back to the middle.

Kirk uncrossed his arms and stood straight, brows up as he leaned a little left, listening to John. It was a strange feeling, specially when he was used to standing in a very balanced position for the fighting style he was used to.

"You never wanna feel like you're out of control, right? It's always gotta be absolutely precise, leaning and staggering, and moving the exact way you want."

John came over and stuck his hand a little more left of Kirk. "I want you to lean out as far as my hand without feeling out of control. Be honest, Kid. It's normal if you do, in fact I expect you to feel out of control. What you've gotta learn is how to master that and harness it into the precision you're aiming for."

Kirk eyed the hand a bit unsurely, wondering if he could without feeling out of control. When he fought, he usually fought with a mix of actual martial arts, a good deal of street knowledge, and a stubborn head. Thankfully, all three could allow him to stay upright and neatly in control (...to a point).

He sucked on his lower lip and shrugged before attempting to do just that. Unfortunately... it went a little worse then the previous one. Right as he got to John's hand, his balance gave a 'hell no' and he stumbled to try and catch it.

Which sent him straight in against John, pressing chest to chest and nearly eye to eye.

John's eyes widened as Kirk stumbled and pressed in against him. He felt the other man's hard body aligned with his, and saw Kirk's sky blue eyes lock with his own. He could feel Kirk's breath against his lower lip and the heat emanating from the captain's bare skin.

Holyshit.

He stood stock still, not sure whether to bolt or lean further against Kirk. This was going to make or break whatever future he had on this ship, he was pretty sure.

He could back away and laugh it off, which would probably be the best thing to do. But he couldn't force his feet to step back. They seemed to be glued to the mats, roots growing through his soles and into the floor of the gym.

He could lean forward, close the inch or so that separated their faces. That was probably the worst thing he could do. This entire situation was a fucking accident... taking advantage of it would only cast him in an ugly light.

John stayed where he was, eyes flickering wildly between Kirk's eyes and his mouth. He'd let Kirk brush it off and laugh. That way, he'd look slightly creepy, but no lasting damage to his character in Kirk's eyes would be done.

Ohgod.

Unexpected development.

Kirk froze in place for just a few seconds that seemed to span minutes. He let out a slow breath, feeling the length of John's body against his. It felt like Bones', fitting so neatly against his, but he could feel muscle and strength that Bones lacked. He licked his lips once. John hadn't pulled away...

So. Okay, maybe he took a little advantage. He leaned in that final bit and brushed his lips over John's before pulling back entirely, grinning lazily. "Told you it wasn't my style. Just a big clumsy oaf."

John stayed frozen for a few more seconds. The ball was in his court, however he just might choose to keep his hand hidden for a bit longer.

Huh. I'm mixing metaphors. That can't be a good sign.

He filed this development away for future reference, then stepped back, rolling his eyes and smirking.

"Hey, Kid. No biggie. You're meant to fall the first time. S'way to teach people to handle fear.... though I very much doubt you need a lot of tutelage in that department. The trick is to be able to estimate how your body will react to the shift in balance, and from there to swiftly and decisively choose your next course of action." John flushed at this, recalling his indecision when faced Kirk's body fitted against his own. He was a soldier, dammit. He should be able to make tough decisions in times of crisis. Freezing up and mentally waffling between actions was not acceptable.

He'd have to have a long talk with himself later. After fantasizing about that chaste kiss.

Kirk laughed a little, "If you're determined to teach me this, I have a feeling we're going to be here a loooong time." He was teasing them both. "Alright soldier-boy, teach me." Kirk straightened up, very prepared to learn.

After a good, long period of time, during which John showed Kirk the leaps and twists and falls that could potentially come after a lean, he ran a hand through his hair, breathing a little heavier than normal.

"Woo, Kid. That was some good stuff. You've got a shitton of potential. Good work ethic too, and a fast learner to boot. You did good." He stuck out his hand to Kirk, smiling.

Kirk laughed a little, his eyes bright, "I need you to go back and tell all my academy teachers that." He grinned fiercely, "I mostly got yelled at for acing their tests without really showing up for class."

He swiped sweat from his brow, a bit flushed but obviously pleased. "I haven't had anyone who can keep up with me in a long time. We need to do this again." He took John's hand and shook it once, grip firm.

"Yeah, well. Showing up to class has its benefits as well, but if you can hack it, hack it. And yeah. I could say the same. It's nice to work with someone who has the same love for this that I do. And whenever you want, give me a buzz. I've got nothing to do anyways," John laughs, shaking back. He is pleased to find that Kirk's hands are callused and worn from years of work. He's never been comfortable with the baby skinned kind.

"You have no idea how good I can hack things." Kirk snickered to himself. "Come on, you hungry? Wanna get something from the galley to snack on before dinner tonight."

John grinned. "I definitely wouldn't say no to that. And I wanna hear these tales of hackery. I'm sure they're crazy enough to rival the myths of old." He winked at Kirk.

Kirk laughed and walked over to his stuff, then came over and clapped John on the shoulder while steering him out of the gym, "Let me tell you something about a little thing called the Kobayashi Maru..."

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[Your Face Under My Fists] -- [Open]

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