fandomhighdorms | the gym ; monday afternoon

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the gym ; monday afternoon

It felt like it'd been awhile since Flick had been down to the gym. In reality, it hadn't been that long and he'd been getting exercise other ways but still, it was time to fall back into that routine so he didn't end up getting too doughy and soft. He'd save those moments for when he was behind closed doors.

Usually, he defaulted to flat out boxing when it came to the gym and the heavy bag but he was going a little different today. The Brazilian jujitsu classes he'd taken back at the academy had been in his head lately so that's what he was using today. It meant using his body differently, working muscles that didn't tend to get worked as much when he was just flat out punching the crap out of something or someone.

Which didn't take away how much he liked just punching the crap of some people, of course. It was a good time. He just felt like switching it up. He figured he'd slide into Krav Maga techniques in awhile just to keep that side of things fresh as well.

And then maybe he'd go to straight boxing. End with the fun stuff, why not?

[Open gym, open post]

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Well, at least Isabelle fell with him? But maybe that wasn't much of a comfort. Not with how she was immediately scrambling to get more upright on top of him to try and punch him in the fleshy part that connected chest to shoulder. A little payback for last time, maybe.

She wasn't putting anything near her full force into it, though.

It was enough force that Flick yelped and coughed a few times since he was still trying to get his vision to clear up after hitting his head.

He directed a swing at her chin, putting as much force as he could behind it. If that didn't work, then maybe grabbing at her shirt and yanking her down so he could try and headbutt her would?

That was gonna be hell on his nose if that's what ended up working.

That shirt thing wasn't going to work. Sorry, Flick. They made Shadowhunter gear form-fitted for that exact reason. There wasn't much in the leather to grab a hold of.

But considering that swing connected and knocked her head back a bit, maybe that didn't matter so much?

Hey, something had connected so he was pleased about that. As pleased as he could be when his ears were ringing still.

But, he had the presence of mind to push himself up as much as he could and now he was going to try and headbutt her. Payback and all that. Well, he was going to try, at least.

He wasn't all the way successful, meaning that Isabelle managed to lean away a little bit just in time to lessen some of the impact, but that didn't stop her swearing at what impact there was.

But he was getting a not entirely accurately aimed jab at his chin for his troubles.

If it helped, hitting her with his head meant his nose exploded in some new pain though it didn't start bleeding again. Combine that with the chin jab and he was cursing up a blue streak.

His head was gonna be hurting when this was all over. Flick still wasn't stopping though. He actually went after the side of her neck this time but with an open hand. Just a basic chop down to that sensitive area.

And that was why Shadowhunters should also have invested in some collars for their gear. Because she did not like that at all. But an iratze had become a necessity for later some time ago already.

She tried to grab his wrist. Both of them, actually.

Goddammit.

That was what he got for being a little woozy from the punches and slams to the head. So, as soon as she got a hold of his wrists, he tried to yank his arms backward so she'd come forward.

And yeah, he was gonna use his head again. Or try to, at least. Maybe he'd catch her off guard.

He did. Mostly. She managed to angle her head a bit in the hopes that he wouldn't get her nose, but that was about it. If her nose wasn't bloody after this, she was going to be happy. Kind of.

She was also using the forward momentum to try and pin his wrists to the floor. Seemed like a workable idea for the time being.

Flick didn't really have time to stabilize himself so he knew he was going to end up on his back. He tried lunging up at her one more time for a quick but sharp headbutt before he ended up on his back, wrists pinned.

Maybe he was trying to make her nose bloody too. As it was, most of his blood had dried and flecked under his nose and his lips. Still hurt a lot, though.

Oh Angel, that one did actually catch her nose. Maybe not enough to make it bloody, but enough for her to grunt out something very unladylike. Because it hurt.

But she was pinning him to the floor all the same. Wrists to the floor, and she was trying to shift backwards a bit to make sure he wasn't going to kick up too hard, either.

He definitely tried to kick up, though. Because he hated being in this position in this particular situation and all he could do was squirm and try and use what little leverage he did have to try and knock her off him.

Probably wouldn't work because she was strong and had the advantage but he wasn't just going to lay there and say uncle either.

Because he wasn't going to stay down before he couldn't get up anymore. Yeah, yeah, Isabelle knew all that.

She was also kind of dripping blood on him, right now. A little bit. He'd caught her nose enough for that after all. She shifted again, and squeezed his wrists tighter.

He wasn't even sorry. He blinked a few times when he realized what was dripping on him but held back any smirk.

His wrists, however, were starting to hurt a little from the squeezing and he winced a little. Flick tried to push his hips off the ground, buck her off him. He opened and closed his hands, trying to keep the blood flowing.

She had no intention of getting bucked off him. She wasn't going to stop squeezing his wrists, either. Her nails were kind of digging into his skin, too. That wasn't even intentional. It was just a by-product of the squeezing and having long nails.

"Surrender."

She really didn't want to make sure he stayed down.

Yep, he could feel her nails making themselves at home in his skin. Made him wince a little more. But, he kept trying to move underneath her.

"Fuck. No."

So, there was her answer. He even tried using some strength to push his arms up against her wrists. Just something to keep himself moving.

She wanted to feel surprised. But she really didn't.

There were still tiny droplets of her blood falling on his neck, here and there.

"Really?"

He was as stubborn as a frigging mule. And he was still trying to buck her off or, if that failed, twist his body enough that she slid off. He was still trying.

"Really," he said defiantly.

Isabelle rolled her eyes. Then she let his wrists go and shifted off him, already moving to stand up.

"Then I'm doing it for you."

She wasn't going to be putting him in the hospital just so he could have the satisfaction of not surrendering.

"Are you serious?" Flick asked incredulously. "You started this, Isabelle. You wanted to do this with me. You don't get to surrender for me. I don't surrender to you or anyone. No, you finish it."

He scrambled to his feet angrily.

Isabelle shot him an incredulous look back, wiping some of the blood off her upper lip with the back of her hand.

"Uh, no."

"Then, you can surrender for yourself because you don't get to speak for me," Flick told her, shaking his head. "There's no chance in hell you'd let me just surrender for you so you don't get to do that for me. No."

He swiped absently at the blood she'd dripped on his neck with a few fingers.

Isabelle's look turned from incredulous to withering.

"Would you rather I put you in the hospital instead?"

Why was she even asking? She knew the answer.

"Don't give me that look," Flick said, shaking his head. "I told you how I was way before this. Way before and you knew and you still wanted to spar. You suggested it. If you don't wanna finish it, fine. Whatever."

He brushed his fingers under his own nose, scratching the itch that dried blood was causing.

"But that's on you, not me. And you'd get pissed off if I tried to speak for you so don't act like you're surprised. So yeah, if it's a choice of you knocking my ass out or taking my choice away. Yeah, I'd rather you knocked me out but that's not even a given. I'm not that easy to put down."

"It is a given, Flick," Isabelle told him, hands on her hips now. There was a blood smear drying under her nose, and some swelling happening on her cheek. "It is. You are good, and you are reckless, but you are a mundane."

And even without extra Marks on her, she was a Shadowhunter.

"When I had my hands on your wrists, I could have broken them."

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