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Wood knocks roughly against wood, making a hollow sound that rattles in the training grounds housed at the academy. Shoes scuff against dirt, kicking it up when they so much as step forward.
Striking dummies were scattered throughout the area, well used considering the messy but abundant stitches that adorn their cotton being as stuffing piles out from the one too many hard blows they've endured. Two boys are at the center of it all, the true source of the sounds that echo in the relatively empty premises.
Sebek had challenged Silver to yet another skirmish, it was normal by now to have the boisterous boy march up to the other in the midst of their practice. Pointing his wooden blade at Silver, he proclaimed that he would finally even their score and take the lead! For he was down by three measly points and he could easily win them back in their future matches, he was certain of it!
Silver was quite used to his grandiose act, this was Sebek after all, and he nodded along giving into the boy's request. It was always better to practise against a living being who could calculate and strategise in the moment than with a clothed one that was made to take hits.
He turns away to take ten steps away from the other, swinging his sword towards the ground in rhythmic strikes as a light warm-up. When he pivots on his heel to face his opponent, Sebek has taken just as many steps away from him as he did, creating a sizable distance between them. The silence is palpable as Silver readies his blade, holding it in front of him with a single hand, his fingers at its grip. The first year mirrors his actions.
…
Sebek strikes first. He lunges forwards, never one to ignore any chance to be as aggressive as possible, exerting as much pressure as he can from the start. Silver, always the polite one, conceded the first move to Sebek, he hardly if ever took it for himself. It never failed to irritate him greatly that he rebuked him for it one day and what did he have to say for himself?
I've been under Lilia-sama's guidance longer than you have. It'd been unfair if I had such an advantage. I want an even a match as possible.
Sebek snorts, whether he meant to come off as condescending, it rubs him the wrong way that his rival was so sure of their own abilities they had to instill a handicap for themselves no matter how small and insignificant it may seem. Then so be it, his chivalry will be his just end and he'll personally see to it.
He swings, Silver deflects. Back and forth they dance around each other, the swords groaning at every strike. When he so much as gains some ground, Silver is quick to gain it back himself and he grits his teeth when he feels the ever looming presence of the walls surrounding them at his back.
It's a dangerous rhythm they fell into, one only they seemed to know the choreography to, one they perfected over the years they've spent training together...
Their swords greet each other once more, knocking and creating a shriek, striking at the same time they enter a bind. His right hand joins his left at the hilt, Sebek applying so much pressure with both of his hands the poor wood begins to splinter under the weight but he merely narrows his eyes, and forces it even more. He won't allow Silver to get out of this encounter unscathed.
Always one for brute force…
It's not surprising to Silver, he's keenly aware of how much Sebek would rather overpower someone quickly before he subdues them and secures his victory.
His stamina was best for short bursts if not it terribly exhausts him, and Silver can see the strain so plainly as his shoulders shake, sweat beginning to gather at his temple only to cascade down to the underside of his sharp jaw.
He drops his eyes from Sebek's face to instead scan his body, scrutinising his position and how unguarded he left his flank.
He was so absorbed in gaining the upper hand with strength alone he forgot how easily one may be able to reverse that same strength against him. He has no qualms about reminding him of such a lesson.
Silver raises his hilt, swiveling the blade along the other’s as he takes a step forward, in the perfect position for a downward strike, his sword high above Sebek. His wrist lies just near the edge of Sebek’s sword.
It's not the best position for Sebek to be in, his opponent far closer than he anticipated, his blade still foolishly held in front of him while his rival stood to the side of it but in failure there is opportunity, if he can quickly rush forward and pivot on his heel…
He may be showing his back to his opponent, a rather big error when it comes sparring but with his agile movements he can surely pull it off and take advantage of Silver’s unorthodox positioni-!
Before he even has the chance to enact his plan, his thoughts get the better of him and Silver’s arm seizes up and over his weapon, he brings that same arm close thus trapping Sebek's sword in between his body. His sword swings beneath Sebek’s arm and comes to rest on the outside of his wrist, one hand at the hilt, the other comes up near the top of the blade to grip at it.
How did he-?!
A sharp pain envelops the joint at his wrist as Silver applies the same pressure he did when they were in their previous bind. He hisses but ultimately refuses to let go of his weapon, a petty sense of dignity prevents his fingers from slipping from its hilt despite how much his body screams at him that an injury was far less favourable than losing a silly scrap. He can hear the air Silver lets out of his nose at the stubborn display.
The second year snaps and turns, pulling on the opposing blade alongside his body as he continues adding strain to Sebek’s wrist.
He either let’s go or he gains a broken wrist.
With a piercing cry the green haired boy releases his vice grip, Silver steps backwards and away from him as he raises his arm and drops the newly disarmed sword to the ground. It softy pounds against the dirt, lying still as Sebek finds himself very much weapon-less.
Silver aims a kick towards his shin, one he's sure will leave a bruise the size of his heel much to his chagrin. A stamp upon the letter privately addressed to his ego that's sure to quiver when he sees the mauve imprint upon his skin come the following morning. It’s all so disorienting he finds himself on the floor, sword at his neck, knees on either side of his torso caging him in and effectively pinning him to the ground, a stern face staring deeply into his eyes as they kneel over him.
His brain churns, desperately trying to find a way to gain the advantage in this situation. He has no blade to fight with, he has a restricted range of motion and his left wrist aches… even if he's sure he can reach his sword, there's no guarantee he'll even be able to fight back for long.
It's Silver’s game. He's won. There's nothing else he can do.
…
…
…
Or can he?
While his legs are rather useless right now his arms are still relatively at his disposal...
A certain idea pops into his head, one to catch Silver most off guard…
A kiss.
No one would expect a kiss in the midst of combat? And from one's rival as well! Especially one done so suddenly? Why, it's a foolproof plan! He's surprised the idea never crossed his mind considering how much his mind seems to whisper the very same notion in other trivial situations.
But this? For once he could wholeheartedly agree with his baseless desires that plague him, this seems the most opportune moment to listen to them.
Without a second thought he rises to his elbows, head craning to reach Silver's as he pushes his lips against him forcibly. The boy in question lets out a muffled noise of surprise, a grunt at the feeling of the other's lips moving so roughly against his, practically devouring him right then and there. It was a pace so hurried his lungs burned just from the mere few seconds he tried to keep up...
His grip begins to loosen around his blade, much too focused on returning Sebek's affections with just as much vigor and Sebek pushes him off, swiftly standing to his feet as he takes Silver's own weapon. Despite the searing pain at trying to hold up the sword with his left, he smugly directs it, just as Silver did to him not even seconds ago, at the other's throat.
"Ha! I wo--!!"
Silver's eyes widen like that of a doe, big and round as he stares up at Sebek, his hair awfully mused from the sudden movement Sebek subjected him to when he shoved him. His uniform is dishevelled, his dress shirt riding up enough that a sliver of his hips is exposed from underneath his vest. His mouth looked even worse for wear, his lips a bright rouge and swollen. He looks like an absolute mes-
And it dawns on Sebek.
He-
He actuall-
K-
His face erupts into a hot blush.
"You--"
"I DIDN'T."
"You ki--"
"DON'T YOU DARE FINISH THAT SENTENCE," Sebek pointing the sword in hand at Silver vigorously, anything to drive his attention away from what he just did. Wooden or not, a threat to his life should do it right!?
Silver brings up a hand to his lips, lightly tracing over where Sebek had smashed his mouth against his, he can feel a nick at the bottom of it, blood slowly trickling from the opening. Must've been Sebek's fangs...
"STOP DOING THAT, STOP BEING WEIRD ABOUT IT."
"I'm not the one screaming their head off and being weird about it," Silver snorts, patting his hands against his trousers in a faux gesture to get rid of the nonexistent dirt on his palms as he rises to his feet. "Next time you kiss me try not to be so rough, I don't have a first-aid kit on me. It's hard to explain blood…"
"That's what you're worried about!? Also what do you mean by ne--! There's not going to be a next time!!! I'm no-!!"
Silver cocks his head to the side, strands coming down to frame his face nicely, "Hmm? Why not?"
"Wh--!!" Sebek's heart practically stops in his chest, he looks so cu-
No! He does not look cute!! Him of all people?! Absolutely not! But to so blatantly ask for another k-kiss from him?! Is he out of his mi-!?
"It was an effective surprise strategy. It caught me off guard enough you could reverse our positions and tip the fight in your favour. I have to commend you on coming up with such a good tactic."
To make matters worse Silver smiles at him as the praise falls from his lips. A smile so terribly fond it makes Sebek question if it was truly directed at him...
"I'll have to try it out myself sometime…" Silver quietly mumbles as he brings up a hand to his chin. "Sebek, would you mind if I practised on you?"
P-Practised?!
If he were a weak human Sebek’s heart surely would've stopped from all the shock he's experienced in such a short span of time however he still stands there, rooted before Silver, mouth agape, heart bashing against his ribcage as the flush crawling up from his neck darkens.
"...did I say something strange?"
Sebek has yet to verbalise a single syllable much less a sentence, floundering for any word to say but his brain is frozen to a standstill. The idea of getting to experience Silver’s lips.
Against his.
A-Again?!
…
…
Silver waves a hand in front of his eyes but Sebek merely stares ahead not even registering the movement with a blink… or really anything of the sort.
"Sebek?"
Nothing.
“Ah, he’s not responding…”