#cesummer25

“You cannot drag me to the rings to settle every argument we have! What are you going to do when we don’t have time to spar it out?“ Fordo's voice echoed across the corridor.

When that was heard, cadets knew to steer clear of the gym. You don’t want the chance of an alpha class being thrown at you, ask CT-5524. He broke three ribs from having Fordo accidentally thrown on him. Cadets have cleared the gyms whenever they hear Fordo and 17 arguing ever since. Fordo and Alpha-17 did stop sparring when CT-5524 was hurt, but that made the spar later that night even more vicious.

17 pulled Fordo into the gym, smirking as he watched everyone else pushing each other out the opposite door. He quickly started taking off his armor. 17 has been pent up all day from Wolffe sassing him back, dealing with the other trainers and now this argument. He had planned other ways to use this energy with Fordo, but apparently someone was in a mood.

Fordo rolled his eyes, but started stripping armor. He took his time taking his armor off, knowing it would annoy 17. His goal worked when he heard a noise between a huff and a growl. Looking up, 17 was only his blacks with his arms crossed glaring at him. He only had most of his lower armor on. If 17 wanted to play this game of making them spar when they’re arguing, he was going to equally be a shabuir.

Alpha took this time to stretch, his muscles stiff from being in a meeting/debrief with the other trainers. He’s been through this tease often with Fordo, but it works every time. They know each other better than anyone. Even when they are annoyed with each other, that will never change.

They start on opposite sides of the mat, circling around. Each waiting for the other to make a move. Fordo teases like he’d lunge but doesn’t follow through, making Alpha flinch preparing for it. He smirks. 17 is almost always the first to make the move, but he has to prepare as to what that move will be. He usually goes for the knees but this time Alpha went for his sides.

Letting out an “oof” Fordo links their legs together bringing them both to the ground. Alpha rolls away into a crouch, grinning. Fordo fakes out going for Alpha’s legs with his own, causing Alpha to dodge right into his oncoming arm. With Alpha on his knees, they’re both on an even playing field again.

“This is all you’ve got?” 17 goads.

He strikes Fordo’s side while Fordo catches him in the collarbone. They start anticipating each other's movements. Blocking here, hitting a blow there. It’s almost meditative as they go through the motions.

Finally Alpha grapples them to the floor. Fordo is pinned on his stomach, or so 17 thought. Fordo bucked and rolled them. They continued grappling with each other. Alpha tried to kick him off until Fordo caught him behind his knee and shoved his leg to his chest locking it with one of his knees and putting all his weight onto 17.

One leg pinned between their stomachs, the other pinned beneath Fordo’s knee. His wrists were pinned above his head with Fordo’s hands locked around them. He could get out of this hold if he tried hard enough, but there was a gleam in his partner’s eyes as they panted, catching their breaths. The argument that brought them into the ring long forgotten. For all 17 cared, Fordo won. He tilted his head so their noses brushed. Fordo met him the rest of the way into a searing kiss. Switching his hold on 17’s wrists to one hand, he moved the other into 17’s hair to move him into a better angle. They kissed until they were catching their breaths for a new reason.

Fordo rested his forehead against 17’s.

“Do you want to head back to our quarters?”