The room had long since lost any trace of coolness it may have started with.

The heat clings to you, wet and stubborn, rising with every move you both made until the shared air between you becomes stifling. Each breath comes in heavier than the last, the scent of salt and sweat seeping in through bursting pants and sharp groans.

“Again”, he huffs out, his voice rough and low as he cocks his head to the side, gesturing you closer, his hazel eyes somehow entirely focused, molten and burning into you.

Your focus falls to the droplets of sweat that have gathered around Matt’s temples, mesmerised as they lazily drip down his neck and into the hollow of his collarbone. You imagined how those drops of sweat would feel on your tongue, the warm, salty heat of him, what sounds he might make as he ruts into you, dreaming of his sharp pants and desperate moans. Your eyes flicker to the cross that hangs from his neck, the normally cool metal now warmed with condensation, swaying gently against his chest, before trailing lower to the grey sweatpants framed low on his waist, teasing and intentional, and god help you, the way your mouth begins to water at the sight.

If he noticed, he didn’t let on.

“Come on”, he begins, his bare chest heaving as he tries to expel his energy, hopping lightly from foot to foot.

“Come at me again.”

You pull in a deep inhale through your nose, your brow furrowing in concentration as you set your bare feet against the tacky material of the mat.

You raise your fists, just as he taught you, your stance strong and alert, your eyes locked exactly on one spot, the knowing curve of his lips.

And you…

Swing.

You don’t even get a chance to blink before he has your body trapped against him, your back flush to his chest, his arm like a band of steel around your front.

“Too slow”, he whispers hotly in your ear, and you feel sparks of heat flood straight to your core at the sound of him so close to you.

Your heartbeat slams hard and fast in your ears, your own breathing becoming ragged as he brushes his nose against your neck, shamelessly dragging in the scent of your sweat, your arousal, pretending like he doesn’t know that he’s driving you wild.

You won’t give him the satisfaction.

You push off of him on a sharp huff, rolling your neck in frustration as you resume your stance.

“Let’s go again”, you insist tightly, your blood running hot as Matt smirks in your direction.

“You’re tired”, he says plainly on a gentle shake of his head.

“Come on, let’s take a break.”

He takes a swig from his water bottle, and you can’t help but fix your gaze on the way his throat works around the water as he swallows thickly, a relieved groan sounding from him as he puts it back down.

You ignore the way your cheeks flush, blaming the heat as you clear your throat, your voice low and determined.

“I’m fine. I wanna try again.”

He smiles then, warm and impressed, his eyes shining with something that may have been pride at your refusal to be beaten.

“You’re not gonna get it right until you stop holding back”, he explains smoothly as he comes up behind you, adjusting your back leg with his foot, his hold around your waist firm and guiding.

“You have to follow through on every punch, every time. If you don’t, you’ll wind up hurting yourself, and I can’t monitor your progress properly if you don’t go full out.”

You wring out your wrists, rolling and pressing them into your palms as you try to push down your building frustration. You had been at these drills for hours, your muscles aching and tired, though you try hard to fight against it. More than anything, you wanted to be able to hold your own, to release Matt from the burden of worrying about you in battle, and even more so, you wanted to feel like his equal.

But weeks had gone by of him training you like this, and you were yet to even land a clean hit on him.

“I don’t wanna hurt you by mistake”, you mutter petulantly, and Matt actually laughs, a warm, amused chuckle settling right in his ribs.

Prick.

“I think I’ll be fine, sweetheart”, he purrs lowly, his voice a sultry, teasing lilt as he raises his arms once more in defence in front of you.

“Give me all you’ve got.”

Alright, fine.

You charge at him on a low snarl, your body stumbling as your fist connects with the air where his shoulder had been half a second ago.

Damn it.

“Again.”

You exhale sharply, and you come at him quicker this time, yet still he slides away from you with ease, this time catching your wrist in his hand, his grip ironclad and unrelenting.

“You’re going too wide”, he says, and fuck, he’s not even breathing heavily anymore.

“Yeah, I know”, you snap.

“Then fix it.”

He nudges your arm back into position, his fingers lingering just a second too long at your waist, the barest touch of him electric against you.

You can feel it, the way the heat of him crawls up your spine, and you fight to suppress a shiver.

Not now.

“Centre yourself”, he murmurs into your ear, his breath close enough now to mingle with your own.

“You need to bring your heart rate down.”

“Christ, do you ever stop talking?”, you huff out, sharper than necessary.

He chooses to ignore it, your aggravation rolling off his back like water.

“Again”, he says.

So, you go.

Left. Right.

High. Low.

Every jab, kick, cross you attempt, he dodges with ease, his movements graceful and light as you pant harshly from exertion. Your movements are becoming sloppier now, you know it even as you move. Your footwork is completely off, your balance too far forward but you can’t think, you don’t care. Timing and angles elude you entirely as you throw hit after hit, each time meeting absolutely nothing but the ghost of where he had been moments ago.

You wonder if he’s fucking with you, if he’s even there sometimes, feeling more and more like you’re fighting a smoke cloud.

You swing once again, anger spiking quick and hot as he catches your shoulder.

“Stop- stop”, he interjects calmly, and god, you’re not a violent person but you’ve never wanted to hit someone more.

“You’re rushing.”

You yank yourself from his grip on a furious growl, dragging a hand through your hair.

“I have to rush, it’s the only way I can even get close to you!”

Tenderly, he steps in, moving a strand of your sweat damp hair from your face.

It takes everything in you to not smack his hand away.

“You’ll get it”, he says quietly, his voice soothing and soft, but it made you feel like a child.

“Just slow down.”

He steps back from you now, resetting once more, steady and firm.

The guilt that gnawed at you was a distant thing. You knew he wasn’t trying to upset you, that he was only trying to help, but the white hot fury, the inadequacy, the seething, burning desire to get this right far outweighed any other feeling you had right now.

“Again.”

Something in you snaps.

After considering him for a moment, you move, but not the way he taught you. Where he has control, you have instinct. Where he has precision, you have heat, and passion, and monumental stubbornness surging you forward one last time.

You throw wide once more, the same form he has corrected time and time again…

And he does exactly what you want him to.

Gotcha.

He shifts to counter, expecting the same mistake, only this time you cut the movement short, twisting and snapping your body forward until-

Crack!

You feel the unmistakable impact of your first connecting with his jaw.

You feel the thrill of it shoot all the way up your arm, and down your spine as Matt’s head snaps ever so slightly to the side, his neck strong enough to take the impact straight on, and you both freeze where you stand, the shock landing hard in your chest.

“Oh shit…”, you breathe as Matt stands completely still before you.

His tongue darts out, assessing the damage as he presses it briefly to the corner of his lip, a quiet, yet sharp exhale leaving him at the sting.

“I- I didn’t mean-“, you begin to stammer out, but your breath stalls at his expression.

Slowly, a wicked smile spreads across his features, sinful and delighted, like a whole new game had just begun.

Ah, there you are, Devil.

Your pulse jumps immediately as pure lust settles into his gaze, your eyes flicking to his mouth. There isn’t a mark, nor a cut, not a visible one at least, but the way his fingers come to his parted lips, the remnants of disbelief still on his face, you know it’s there.

And you put it there.

He steps closer now, his eyes darkened and pooling with desire, and his voice betrays him with one word, coming out shallow and ragged.

“Again.”

But it wasn’t a command this time.

It was a plea.

His name passes your lips on a reverent whisper, as his hand comes up to the line of your jaw, cupping it gently, his fingertips all but searing the flesh from your bones.

“Matt…”

“Please”, he gasps out, needy and fervent, his eyes wild and burning now, with no care to how he might sound.

“Do it again.”

You breathe in sharply, an uncontrollable shudder coursing through you, a small exhale of disbelief escaping you as you push him once, hard against his chest.

And he lets you.

A shiver washes over him as he allows himself to be moved by you, the thrill almost uncontainable as he throws a gentler punch your way, testing, his heart swelling with pride as you block it, messy still, but you did it.

He feels the change in you instantly, the confidence creeping to the forefront as you learn that he can be touched, be caught, be cornered.

And oh, what that did to him.

The space between you hums with tension, two live wires fusing together at last, as you come to each other in quick, uneven bursts. You settle into something like a rhythm finally, with every strike, block, shift that he throws at you. It’s not effortless, far from it, but now Matt looks like he’s taking the time to recalibrate, like he’s paying attention.

That thought alone almost throws you off.

Almost.

You twist in his hold once more, wriggling free as you kick your leg up, just a little too high, a thrum of lightning sparking up your thigh, before he grabs at it, knocking you over.

The thing is though, you take him with you.

Because you expect it now, closing the distance between you instead of retreating, rolling onto him, and for a split second you’ve got him, right there, pinned beneath you.

You know he could move, could knock you off of him with ease.

But that’s not the game, you don’t think.

Not to overpower…

To match.

“That’s my girl”, he murmurs, and you hear the way his voice reverberates in his chest, his breath warm as it fans across your face.

“I’ve got a good teacher”, you breathe out softly, and the way his eyes soften underneath you had your chest tightening instantly.

You close the distance.

You moan into him, reckless and willing, relishing in his sharp intake of breath, the way his hands fly to your hair in adoration, finally pulling you in closer after so long of fending you off.

It’s different from the fight, and somehow exactly the same; languid and burning, balance finally settling over you as you push and pull into each other, before finally he flips you over, pinning your arms down onto the mat.

“What am I going to do with you, hmm?”, he murmurs hotly, but he can’t disguise the breathless note that his voice has taken on.

“Whatever it is, can you do it fast? I’ve been dying here for the last two hours, if you haven’t noticed.”

Something low and molten rumbles in his chest, his head tilting lowly to your ear, his lips curling on a delicious smirk.

“Oh, I’ve noticed, sweetheart”, he purrs, nipping at your earlobe and trying not to moan at the way your body jolts underneath him.

“You think I don’t know that this pretty cunt of yours has been soaking wet since the second you landed that hit?”

You are stunned into silence beneath him, your breath stalling in your throat as your brain tries to catch up. But he’s got you now, your complete and undivided attention as his gaze bores into the tip of your nose, his eyes burning golden in the glow of the sunset peeking in through the window of Frank’s hideout.

“You want me to show you what that does to me?”, he asks, his head tilting in a way that can only be described as predatory, like the last thing a gazelle sees before a lion rips it to pieces.

“Yes”, you choke out from beneath him, your head nodding desperately as you feel your cunt clenching, aching for him.

“Yes, Matt I want that. Please baby, show me.”

A startled yell rips from your throat as he bites into it abruptly, sharp and fast as his hand plunges beneath the seam of your sweats, applying firm pressure to your soaking clit.

Your hips roll into the sensation instantly, your brain short circuiting as waves of pleasure crash over you with every brush of his fingers to your slick heat. You chase the friction incessantly, rutting into his palm on breathless moans and reverent sighs. Your eyes flutter open to see him above you, his own eyes screwed shut, panting out harshly, every breath he takes pulling in the taste of your arousal, decadent and rich on his tongue. A light sheen of sweat coats his forehead, one that you suspect has nothing to do with the exercise, and you feel the press of his hardened cock against you through his tented sweatpants, swollen and throbbing, and you…

You needed to feel him.

Your name on his lips is a startled, desperate thing, as you snake your hand in between your bodies, fumbling for the band of his sweats before allowing your fingers to toy with the weeping head of his cock, already leaking and glistening in the light.

“Fuck”, he whispers tightly, his groans spilling out of him eagerly, unstoppably, as he ruts into your touch.

“God, sweetheart, I need you”, he moans, and you grip him a little tighter now, your hand moving up and down as much as it can given the angle.

“Let me have it Matt”, you pant into his ear, a shiver passing through him, everything so unbearably sensitive to him now.

“Let me taste you, baby.”

Matt would have believed you if you’d told him he’d died in that moment and gone to heaven, his eyes fluttering closed in pleasure, the mere thought of your mouth on him sending sparks of heat and need through his body.

He nods fervently, yanking his sweats down his body, the sudden chill raising the hairs on his legs, goosebumps prickling at his skin. Rolling off on you, he allows you to get on top now, his tongue darting out in anticipation, a soft sigh leaving his lips as you begin to trail featherlight kisses down his chest, paying special attention to a litter of old scars, long faded with time.

“That’s it, my good girl”, he manages on a gravelly whisper, his voice roughened and husky around the edges, his breath hitching out the lower you go. You hum softly against the soft skin of his abdomen, nipping and sucking lightly as you trail your lips across his hipbone, delighting in the way his hips stutter upwards into you.

He is bared to you fully now, his sweatpants strewn across the floor, and you can’t help the way your eyes darken with greed at the sight of him, flushed and ready for you. Your tongue passes over your lips as you take him in, the scent of him tangy and rich, the salt and sweat melting in deliciously with his skin.

You ghost your breath over his tip, pressing a chaste kiss there, gentle and light, before pressing another, a little more firm, your tongue gently massaging the head of him, swirling teasingly.

He chokes out a moan, a pleading, wrecked thing as he gently cants his hips upwards, testing, trying to guide you deeper, his hands threading in your hair.

You comply.

You huff out slightly as you lower yourself fully, the warmth and wet of your mouth inviting Matt into a dangerous sense of surrender, his body relaxing beneath you as you set your rhythm, boneless and practically melting into the mat.

The more you unravel him, the more he praises you, slurred, desperate ramblings of “yes”, and “god”, and “more” tumbling from his lips as you drive him closer and closer to that maddening, glorious high.

The vibration of your soft, pleased hum around his cock, the slick filthy sounds of your mouth slapping and sucking against skin, and the stifled sounds as you gag around him threatens to drive him over the edge, a drunken howl clawing its way out of his throat as his hands fist tighter into your hair, a sure sign that he was close.

You release him from your lips with a wet pop, and Matt almost lets out a sob at the absence of you.

“Wait- wait”, he begins, his voice wrecked and panicked, but you just shush him gently.

“Don’t you want to come inside me, sweetheart?”, you ask innocently, and Matt’s cheeks tinge the brightest, glowing pink, his hair wild as he nods rapidly, words seemingly failing him.

You crawl back up his body, the heat of him scorching your skin, pausing every so often to lick at the salty droplets of sweat cascading down the muscle of his arms. Ripping off your own sweats and sports bra as you go, you settle on top of him as he lays flat on his back still, utterly mesmerised as he ghosts his fingers over any patch of skin he can reach. Reaching down for him, you line his slick cock with your soaking entrance, and you both jolt from the contact.

The glide in is seamless, a long moan releasing from both of you, as you sink down onto him fully.

He hisses out sharply, his hips stuttering as he fights with all his might not to fuck up into you, to take things at your pace.

“Oh my god, Matt”, you breathe out, your voice slurred and hoarse, as your walls flutter and clench around him, gripping him like a vice.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby.”

The moan that flies free from his lips is barely recognisable to his own ears as you begin to roll your hips down onto him, lazy and unhurried at first, before quickly picking up the pace, that fire catching up to you now, flames coasting up your body and threatening to burn you both alive. His hand winds itself around your throat, a firm, grounding pressure, just holding as you press down on his chest, using it as leverage to grind even deeper onto his cock.

You know he won’t last long like this, and honestly you wouldn’t either, his breathing coming out in short bursts and stuttered groans and frantic pleading noises sounded around the shape of your name, chasing that elusive cliff’s edge that he wanted so desperately for you to dangle him from.

The looming threat of danger that lurks outside these walls is further away than it’s ever been, war, and battle, and rebellion a distant thought now. The only thought that burned in your mind, star-bright was Matt, beautiful, wonderful Matt, Matt who had long believed that you had a place with him, Matt who trusted your capabilities, Matt who you’d do anything to protect in your own right.

Matt, who right now, you were determined to fling off that cliff.

Beneath you, a groan of absolute bliss sounds out from him, louder than the crack of a bell as he lets you ride him. He’s right there, you know it, and god, you are too, you can feel it in the stuttering rolls of his hips, your short bursts of breath that you can no longer get back, the air in the room once again thickened and lived in. The room is coated in the scent of desire and need, and you know it must be too much for Matt. He just needed a little more.

“Oh god, yes that’s it. My good girl. My strong girl”, he rambles out, and you think for a moment his mouth has just entirely run away with him as you lean down and suck at the gathered sweat at his neck.

“You have no idea what that did to me”, he gasps as you bite and suck little marks into his skin, and he shivers at the intensity that is coiling in his stomach so rapidly now.

“Feeling the way you landed that hit. Finally getting one over on me. The adrenaline. God, I knew you could do it, sweethe- fuck!”

He is cut off on a high, keening moan as you bounce faster on his cock, the pace brutal and maddening as you moan and whine around his skin, the feel of him so overwhelming, and so goddamn intoxicating.

“I’m gonna come- sweetheart, please!”, he chokes out, his face slackened and flushed and you don’t think he even knows what he’s begging for, but you know you’d grant it to him every time.

“Me too Matt, it’s okay”, you whisper, your words punched out of your lungs by the force of him rutting up into you. His words from before echo in your mind before it all burns away into glorious stardust, leaning forward to ask one last thing of him.

“Give me all you’ve got.”

His mouth falls open in shock as his orgasm tears through him in wild, stuttering bursts, holding onto you tightly so that he doesn’t knock you off of him as you ride your own pleasure out on a long, drawn out whine that has Matt moaning and writhing out in turn.

You were all at once very grateful that there were no neighbours to speak of.

Your thighs ache as you finally collapse on top of him with an undignified “oof”, seeking comfort in the soft chuckle that vibrates in his chest, his fingers carding gently through your hair, the pair of you boneless and spent.

“Jesus Christ…”, you breathe out, your blissed out smile splitting your face open as Matt presses gentle kisses into your shoulder.

“That was incredible.”

He hums softly, still not entirely with it after having his senses melted so thoroughly, his head lolling into you with a soft thump.

Suddenly, a thought flashes over your mind, a soft guilty smile tugging at your features.

“I really am sorry for hitting you by the way”, you say sheepishly, your eyes peering up at his exhausted face.

Slowly, a lopsided grin spreads across his lips, his eyes crinkling in the corners and shining with mischief and pride.

“It’s alright, sweetheart”, he sighs out, his voice light and airy, a teasing lilt in his tone before his next words come on a delicious rumble that sent shivers down your spine.