fandomhighdorms | Gym, early Saturday

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Gym, early Saturday

It was very early on Saturday morning, so hopefully there wouldn't be anybody else around in the gym. She needed to work out some frustration, preferably without being recognized by more people she had never seen before in her life.

She pulled out the mats, laying them down at a decent distance from each other, then stepped onto on one and thought for a moment.

Back-in, full out...

ooc: open!

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"It's like taking Latin all over again! Only there aren't any rules to break, just attempts to make a past perfect tense and future imperfect fit together in the same sentence," Peter said with the vehemence of a child who grew up in the age of grammar drills and declensions.

"Uh.. right," Dean said vaguely, not ready to admit that he had very little idea of what Peter was talking about. He knew past, present and future, and whether they were perfect or imperfect had more to do with what happened than any grammar rules. "I figure the best thing to do is just to talk about the outside world like it's all the present. For you it is, right?"

"I suppose. I doubt I'll ever end up back in 1940 though so maybe calling the past, the past is the best way to go."

Peter shrugged with a grin, "Want to spar? Far better than debating grammar?"

Dean grinned. "Works for me."

Peter found gloves in the supply closet and offered to throw Dean a pair before strapping his on. He held out his gloves to be touched and assumed a defensive position, bouncing slightly on his toes.

Dean caught the gloves Peter threw him and put them on. Doing this with gloves would be different; usually he and Sammy went at it bare knuckled. Though then again, they were hardly fighting by Queensbury rules.

"So how do you want to do this?" Dean asked. "Formal?" He grinned. "Or anything goes?"

Peter shrugged as he saw Dean's look of surprise about the gloves. "I don't fancy a broken finger is all," he said.

"Anything goes works," Peter agreed. "Until we call time?"

"Time or someone taps out, yeah," Dean agreed.

Peter held out his gloves for Dean to tap and began circling a bit. He threw two quick jabs towards Dean's face more as an opening salvo than real attempt to hit.

Dean ducked out of the way of both, the second time letting his momentum continue carrying him to the side where he threw a punch of his own at Peter's head.

Peter dodged to the left out of the way of Dean's fist. Continuing to move that way, he sent a jab-cross combination flying towards Dean's ribcage.

Dean blocked Peter's attack and sent a flurry of punches toward first Peter's face, then midsection.

Peter managed to dodge or block all of the punches until the last two which caught him in the sterum. Coughing, he danced out of the way of the flurry then darted back to throw a right-left cross combination towards Dean's chest following it up with an uppercut aimed at the belly.

Dean leaned back out of the way of the chest shots, but wasn't quite quick enough to avoid the belly punch. It didn't land full strength, but hard enough to pull a soft grunt out of him.

He danced back out of range, then dove to the side and at Peter, trying to catch him around the waist in a grappling attack.

Peter, being caught totally off guard by Dean's definition of 'anything goes,' was caught and thrown to the floor. His immediate instinct was to send a fist flying towards Dean's face.

Dean took Peter's punch which was strong to knock his head back, but he still managed to grab Peter's forearms and pin them to the floor.

Peter thrust his hips up to dislodge Dean and twisted, attempting to use his legs as leverage to flip around and break the grapple.

Dean did his best to hold on and hold Peter down, but when he felt he was losing his balance that important little bit, he threw his weight to the side, letting Peter roll them over, but with enough momentum that he was able to continue them rolling until he was on top again.

"Not bad," he said, grinning down at Peter.

"Nor you," said Peter with a grin and more bravado than one might be expected to exhibit while being pinned down.

Peter tried again to break the grapple. This time by the simple expedient of dropping his right shoulder and throwing the left into Dean's face.

Dean dodged out of the way and kept rolling, off of Peter and up onto his feet. He might've been able to keep Peter down, but Peter could've got lucky and besides, he wanted to keep sparring.

Peter rolled to his feet and began circling Dean again. "And here I thought anything goes meant headshots were fair game," he said, grinning.

Peter danced close again and threw a fast right cross followed by a hard left hook towards Dean's sternum.

Dean absorbed the first punch and dodged the second, grabbing onto Peter's arm as it went past him and pulling.

And where Peter's arm went, Peter followed.

He took a step or two before re-centering his balance. With Dean still holding onto his left forearm, Peter threw that arm up, pivoted on his left foot and aimed a punch into Dean's lower ribcage. Not that he didn't leave his own lower ribcage pretty exposed while doing it.

Dean grunted as Peter's punch landed, but he didn't stop moving, twisting behind Peter and pulling his arm up behind his back, stopping just shy of where he'd be in danger of breaking it. "This would be where you tap out."

"I make it a policy never to argue with impeccable logic of any sort," Peter joked. He tapped his right hand on Dean's leg, "time."

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saltandammo.livejournal.com - 2006-05-14 04:34 (UTC) - Expand

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