“Uh... “ Boone reeled. He spun around and forced a smile, hoping it would disguise the fact that he hadjust forgotten the entire lesson plan he’d spent all night going over.
He had gone over this lesson plan again and again. He had taught self-defense for years now. There hadn’t been a time in his entire military career that he’d blanked out. He didnotjust forget hours of practice just because Demarien bent over, damn it.
However, Demarien’s expectant smile said that now was the time for Boone to commence with a popular technique that’d gotten him through some of the toughest situations in his life. Winging it.
Boone took a deep, steadying breath and locked his arms at the small of his back as he circled Demarien. “Okay, so Modern Army Combatives, or our good friend Mac, is really one big combo of a ton of different kinds of martial arts. Namely Jiu-Jitsu and Muay Thai, which we’ll be focusing on today.”
Boone took Demarien’s hands in his and unfurled them. “First off, cool it with the fisticuffs. Focus on your stance for now.” He felt Demarien tense up as he ran his hands down Demarien’s arms up to his hands again. “Like this. Feet shoulder length apart, hands level with your face. Keep your fingers relaxed. There you go.”
“Okay, now what?”
“Just hold that position for now. Get a feel for it and listen.” Boone paced around the mat, sinking into the soft pad with each step. “Now, in the army, you’re taught that you have three options when it comes to an opposing threat. You can disengage and put some space between you and your opponent, gain a more controlling position and use another weapon at your disposal, or…” Boone leaned forward and took hold of Demarien’s wrists gently. “...you can close the distance to gain more control over your opponent and potentially end the fight.”
“So what do you recommend for, say, someone built like you?” Demarien tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips.
Boone arched an eyebrow. “Built like me? Why me?”
“What?” Demarien relaxed his pose. “When we started, you said it was just you, me, and Mac, right?”
Shit, I did.Boone bit his lip, releasing his hold on Demarien and pinching his chin in thought. “Yeah, okay. That makes sense.”
“Well, let’s get a move on! I think I’m ready to take you down.” Demarien punched at the air, hopping lightly on his feet.
“Alright, if you really think you’re ready, we’ll move on to avoidance and evasion.” Boone took a defensive stance andlocked eyes with Demarien. “Now,tryto hit me with your best shot.”
“Sounds like a bet to me,” Demarien growled under his breath, a smirk playing at the sides of his lips. It only took a moment before he jabbed at Boone, forcing his way closer in an attempt to finish the fight.
Unfortunately for Demarien, Boone was faster than he looked, despite his past injuries. Funnily enough, the pain pulsing through his leg only made him feel more alive. After all, nothing could change the fact that he was here, in this moment, sparring with the cutest omega this side of everywhere.
“Avoiding and evading, while similar, are not the same.” Boone dodged each of Demarien’s swings, light on his feet. “To avoid is to circumvent an attack while remaining within range for a counter. This is how you can end the fight quickly if you’re faster than your opponent.”
He hopped back, smirking as Demarien took a step forward. “Now that was evasion. Evasion is to dodge the attack, forcing your opponent to move. This will break their rooted stance and give you a chance to get into a more controlling position.”
Boone felt his heart speed up as he watched Demarien’s cute, determined face. But there was something besides determination in his eyes. Boone squinted, noticing the way Demarien smirked when he thought about making a strike, the way he licked his lips when he hopped around, mimicking Boone.
And especially the way he--
A formidable force abruptly slammed against Boone’s face, forcing stars across his vision. He reeled back, blistering pain rushing to the left side of his face.
“Oh, dickwhistles, I’m so sorry, Boone!”
Boone held his hand up to his cheek, feeling heat flare across his skin. As the stars in his eyes faded, he saw that he had ended up flat on his ass.
“It’s okay. It’s just a flesh wound.” Boone held his hand against his head, cracking his neck slightly. “It’s fine. Really.”
“Oof, that’s gonna leave a mark.” Demarien whistled low through his teeth. “I mean, uh… I’m sorry.” He grimaced before he hastily dropped to the ground, pulling Boone up and helping him to a nearby chair. “I only meant to --”
“No, it was my fault. I got distracted, and I missed a block. That’s all on me.” Boone flashed a lopsided smile before he tipped his head back and tried to relax. “All part of being Boone.”
“Do you need ice? Or a drink?” Demarien scratched the back of his head. “Or, I guess I could get out of your hair. I mean, you took time out of your day off, and I just fuckin’ dicked you--” Demarien flushed and stuttered. “Decked. I decked you, holy shit. Let me get you some ice.”
“Wait, stop!” Boone lurched forward and jumped from the chair, reeling as the room began spinning, and he fell flat on the floor again.
Demarien rushed over, his face hardening. “Jesus Christ, Boone, stop moving before you break your dimm-dumms.”
“Okay, Doc.” Boone smiled weakly, hoping all his teeth were still intact. “Just don’t go in the kitchen. I’ll get the ice in a minute.”
Demarien narrowed his eyes. “Just what the hell are you hiding in the kitchen, Boone Harding?”
