You're going down when I get up. [Tally~!]

[Rhi-Rhi]

Mm, the sweet smell of...mat. Sweat-stained training-facility-mat that who knew how many people had walked on. Ew. Nonetheless, it was a smell and texture that Gabriel was intimately familiar with and right then he couldn't have cared that his face was pressed down against it--the mat and him got to know each other like that a lot when he sparred with Roman. Right then, laying face down on the thing felt wonderful. It was nice and cool and way better than standing. He was not looking forward to standing.

Had to, though. He was not going down like this. He was so close. He almost had him!

Maybe.

Gabriel took in a few deep, steadying breaths and lifted his head, slid his sore arms under him and shoved up off the mat. His arms shook as he propped himself up onto his elbows, muscles protesting, and with another deep breath and a grunt he was up on his hands and knees with his head hanging down, hair sticking to his face and a bead of sweat dripping off his nose and onto the mat. Deep breaths, block out the pain, pain is just a product of the mind, he recited even as he felt some very-much-there bruises forming and even though he felt about ready to drop from exhaustion. Yep, it was all in his head, just nerves sending signals to his brain, that's it. He was so not finished yet.

But man could he have killed for some aspirin right about then; his head was pounding. Maybe he'd gotten a little too carried away with the psychic stuff this time around.

That didn't mean he wasn't still good for another go, though. He just...had to stand up. He could do that. He could. That was easy! The problem was getting there.

Gabriel filled his lungs again, slid a knee under him, pushed up off the ground, wobbled, and then dropped back down onto his hands with a hiss of pain and a grimace. Whoo, epic fail. But as the saying went, if at first you don't succeed...

"One sec, Roman, gimme a sec. Floor's slippery," he panted, anticipating what the other Pilot would say: that he was done for now, take a break, blah blah blah. But he had pulled himself up into a crouch now! He was making progress! And dammit, he just knew he could do it and besides, if this was a real battle and Roman were the enemy, he'd have to get up anyway or he'd be dead.

Scratch that, if Roman were the enemy he could have killed him twenty different ways by now in the amount of time it was taking him just to move, and technically he counted as dead. But he wasn't the enemy and this was just friendly sparring so realism didn't count.

"Hope you're ready...you're going down..." He tried to stand again, but his body refused to move and he gave a little groan and winced. "As soon as I get up..."

[Tally]

"Stay down."

For the ringing in his head, Roman couldn't tell if he'd said that out loud or only mouthed the words silently.  He'd certainly meant to say it, but the inside of his head felt like an agitated beehive.  He might have attempted to path the words over if his mind weren't raw as flayed skin.  Thinking hurt.

And that was impressive, that kind of power, except in the end Gabriel's attacks had been the equivalent of swinging a club wildly about.  It hit hard but was too easy to get past.  And they'd gone over this how many times?

"I said stay down."  This time he was sure he said it.

Roman shoved away from the wall he'd slumped against and crossed the distance between them in a few stiff strides.  Obstinacy could be a blessing.  It could also be foolhardy.  It was what would take Gabriel all the way to Royal rank, he was sure, if it didn't get him killed first.

He booted Gabriel in the ribs and dropped, grabbing him by the hair to force him onto his stomach, force his face into the floor.  A knee between his shoulder blades kept him there as Roman leaned down to snarl in his ear.  "I told you not to engage my physically.  I told you not to let me get near you.  I tell you that every time.  That is not the way to do this.  And I don't know what it is that makes you resort to something you damn well know didn't work the last fifteen times and will never work but I swear we will do this every day until you get it."

And he wanted Gabriel to get it.  He wanted that breakthrough, that epiphany, when Gabriel would happen upon the course of action that would put Roman on the floor instead.  What teacher didn't want to see their student surpass them?  It was a singular pleasure, to be defeated by someone you had taught.

Roman released Gabriel and sat next to him on the mat.  It had been close this time.  He hoped Gabriel realized that.  It would be hours before Roman's mind healed over enough to tolerate any kind of telepathy.

"I know you can do it."

[Rhi-Rhi]

Yep.

Getting back up was definitely the problem.

Kicked in the ribs and grabbed by the hair, Gabriel hit the floor with a sharp gasp. With Roman's weight on him, pinning him, and with all the fight run out of him, there wasn't much he could do but groan into the mat. There was still a brief moment where instinct kicked in and he tried to push back, tried to shove himself up--but his ribs hurt, his head hurt, the hand in his hair hurt, Roman's knee was digging into his spine--which also hurt--and his limbs felt like water. It was a halfhearted attempt, and after one or two pushes his muscles gave out and he flopped back down with a grunt. And then just breathed, tried to calm down and fight back the frustration.

Fine...fine. Roman had him. This time.

Again.

He blew a long breath out through his nose and finally let his body relax, conceding defeat.

Roman's words made him grimace.

"I know, I know," he grumbled, voice muffled by the floor. He tried to turn his head, but Roman had him good and it only pulled his hair. Ow. Jerk. "I get it." And he did. Really, he did. He understood. He knew what he had to do, or what he thought he should do. But knowing and doing were two different things, and he could know all he wanted, but when they actually started--well, all that sort of flew out the window. Don't engage him physically. Don't let him get near him. He started out all right this time, but then he kind of failed on the don't-let-him-get-near part which resulted in a physical engagement and...yeah. That tended to be where it fell apart.

Every time.

It was a relief when Roman released him. For one, he could breathe easier now and for two, his face wasn't getting ground into the mat. It was still a few moments before he could move; laying there, his limbs had grown all stiff and a deep, familiar ache settled in his muscles. With another groan, he rolled over onto his back and let himself sprawl out, arms spread and head tilted back, though he tilted it to look over at Roman and give him a tired grin.

"Yeah...I know I can..." he said, stretching his arms over his head. He winced when his ribs protested and rubbed at the spot through his clothes. "Like I said, you're going down. I know all your weak points now. I was winning." Pause. "Just...not right now. I'm tired." As much as he was projecting confidence, it helped to hear Roman say it. It was a nice confidence boost, because after this many attempts and that many failures it was starting to look impossible. Roman was good. What he lacked in sheer psionic brute force, he more than made up for with subtlety, and what he lacked in psionics he made up for with physical strength and skill and experience. Taking him down was easier said than done, but he felt he'd been close this time. If he just hadn't flubbed up...

Still poking at his bruise, he frowned. "Did you really have to kick me, by the way?"

[Tally]

"Not right now," Roman agreed.  This session was over, for both of them.  Sure, he'd managed to get underneath Gabriel's psionics and get in close and end it, but it had been a fight every step of the way.  Gabriel was getting it, working it out finally.  He'd have to change tactics next time, throw something new at the kid.  One of his greatest advantages against other psychics was his unpredictability.  By necessity he couldn't attack head-on with psionics.  He was all about deflection and misdirection, all about confusing his opponents with tricks and techniques they wouldn't have encountered in training before.

He had the disadvantage at a distance, where telepathy and telekinesis could wreak such havoc.  So his goal was always to slip in close, put himself in a place where he had the advantage.  Ever wary of overestimating his own abilities, he nonetheless thought he'd gotten pretty damn good at using his opponent's own strengths against them.

"Next time, though...next time I think you may get me."  Roman never gave empty praise.  Gabriel stood a decent chance next time, and he was learning Roman's strategies.

"Agh, I think I could use a cigarette."  He'd taken up smoking recently.  Not a lot, and it wasn't something he'd planned on, but damn...sometimes a guy just needed a smoke.  "Come on.  Let's hit the showers and I'll buy you something to eat."

It was was his way of saying sorry I had to kick your ass.  He stood and offered Gabriel a hand up.

[Rhi-Rhi]

Gabriel wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Yeah, well too bad," he said, clasping Roman's hand and hauling himself up. "Because you're not having one around me. Seriously, you know what that stuff does to your lungs? Two words: black. Tar. You want tarry black lungs and having to breathe through a hole in your throat? You keep that up and I'll beat you just 'cause you can't walk five steps before you're wheezing like an old man. Seriously, man, that's gross."

Yeah. He hadn't shut up about that since he'd learned about Roman's new habit and never wasted an opportunity to share some more anti-smoking trivia. But really, it was just disgusting! Smelled awful and got all in your clothes and hair and everything.

"'Sides, if I'm gonna take you down, I wanna do it when it's still a challenge," he added with a tired grin, leaning his weight against Roman and poking at his own ribs, where he could just feel a nice-sized bruise growing. Oh well. This time he had come out with fewer bruises and felt like he'd given Roman a few extra. Progress, eh?

He slapped Roman on the back and then just hung on his shoulder. "Sooo, taking me out somewhere expensive, eh? Pretty sure that's what I heard! Well, since you asked, I think I want steak. Yeah, that sounds good. At that one fancy expensive upper caste place with the great double-baked potatoes. Oh, you agree? Great, it's a date! You're so awesome! Thank you!"

[Tally]

"Blah blah blah."  He didn't need Gabriel telling him about the dangers of smoking.  Who didn't know all about the carcinogens and the addictive effects of tobacco?  Hard science hadn't stopped him from taking up the habit, and Gabiel wouldn't stop him from continuing it.  It wasn't as though he smoked a lot.  Once or twice a month maybe, and he intended it to stay that way.  Gabriel was making way too big a deal over it.

"Gotta give you a fighting chance somehow.  Not like you're gonna beat me any other way."  He gave Gabriel's shoulder a shove and swung open the door to the locker room. It was getting fairly late, and they were the only ones using this level.

"You sure you can handle that place?  It doesn't have peanut shells on the floor or a playground."

For fuck's sake, Roman, don't give him any ideas.  For once Gabriel had chosen a place he wouldn't actually mind eating at.  Why oh why was he trying to ruin it?

[Rhi-Rhi]

"No playground?!" Gabriel gasped, pressing his hands to his face in mock horror. "No peanuts?! Oh man, next thing you're gonna be telling me there's no toys, too, and what kinda heathen establishment doesn't have that?"

He grabbed his towel, shampoo, and change of clothes and slammed his locker shut. "Well, gee golly, guess that means we'll have to make a pit stop at Burger Royal to get some real food and entertainment after the froufrou place, yeah?"

And if Roman thought he was joking, or that he was making a request, then clearly he didn't know him well enough yet.

Tossing his stuff on a bench, he paused, glanced at Roman, looked at the shower, and steeled himself against the discomfort that was starting to settle in the pit of his stomach as it always did when he had to shower publicly. Well...not had to; he could have headed back to his apartment, but Roman was here and, well...he just preferred to avoid comment, preferred not to draw attention to a nervousness he knew he shouldn't be feeling over something so freakin' normal, so after a moment he was quick to strip--like yanking off a band-aid--and breeze through his shower. Didn't matter how many times he'd done this before, or how many times his mentor had seen him naked; he just couldn't shake the embarrassment, and he kept his eyes on the wall the entire time.

"Hey, I was thinking," Gabriel suddenly said, rinsing out his hair and keeping his back turned. Talking always made everything sufficiently less awkward. "The peanut thing. I'll pick up a bag before we go. The place doesn't have peanuts now but that doesn't mean we can't fix it."

[Tally]

Roman didn't waste any time stripping down and tossing his clothes to the floor.  He was in the shower before Gabriel and was cursing himself in his head for ever bringing up this subject. There went his chances of getting through this evening with any dignity. He could just see himself sitting outside at a burger joint, molded plastic playground rearing up two stories high.  He could see it and it was sad.

"Oh please."  Roman cut the water off and grabbed a towel.  "You don't have it in you to do that."

He didn't necessarily believe what he'd just said.  Thing was, he wanted to make certain Gabriel went through with it, and the surest way to achieve that was dare him into it.  Because even Roman had to admit he liked the idea of walking into a high end establishment and chucking peanut shells onto their floor.  And making them act like they were happy about it.

[Rhi-Rhi]

Oh, it was on now.

Gabriel shut off the water and threw a towel around his waist. "Oh yeah?" he said, turning to Roman and giving him his most serious look. "Try me."

He shook out his hair, making sure to splatter Roman with water, then walked past him to the bench so he could finish drying off and change into his clothes. When he was done, he threw the towel over his shoulder and tried to put his hair into some semblance of order, but until he could get it dry and get some gel in it, it would just have to stay...poofy and going out every which way. Bah.

"Gonna join me on my peanut run, or you still gotta go get all freshened up and prettyfied for our date?"

[Tally]

"Tierney," he said, "I know it never came up in training so let me cover it now." He shut his locker door with a clang.  "You cannot pull off a serious business face while wearing a towel.  Don't try.  Consider it official policy."

Before he could even get dressed Gabriel was splattering water all over him.  He took it with as much grace as possible, then thew a towel at Gabriel's face.  He looked forward to the day when the gravity of being a Pilot would calm Gabriel down, force him to grow out of all these childish outbursts.

Though now that he thought of it, he could remember thinking much the same thing about the candidate program, and look how much good that had done.

One he was clothed again, he wandered over to Gabriel and combed a hand through his hair.  "What are you gonna do with this?  You look like you were electrocuted.  Anyway I'm ready unless you need to stay and play with your hair some more.  Gel it up, blow dry it, put some curlers in?"

Roman's own hair was starting to get longer, growing out of the short, neat cut he'd kept it in for years.  Seemed like there was always something more important to be doing than going to get a haircut, and he was finding he minded the longer, shaggier hair less and less.

[Rhi-Rhi]

Electrocuted? Ouch. He knew it got all fluffy without a nice coating of product, but it was not frizzy. Hmph.

But Gabriel only laughed, fluffed his hair, and fluttered his eyelashes at Roman. "Oh, sugarbaby, anything for you. If that's what it takes to make you want me..." he said, and lightly trailed a hand across Roman's chest as he passed him on his way toward the door. He paused just before it, peered over his shoulder at him and blew him a kiss.

"By the way, you blow dry it after the curlers are in. Duh."

[Tally]

"Damn right.  You better keep yourself up or you'll lose me to someone younger and cuter."  Gabriel actually put effort into his hair, which mystified Roman.  Even when he had kept his hair short and neatly cut, he still hadn't bothered doing more than brush it out in the morning.  He expended even less thought on it now that he was rocking a shaggier look.

"Oh well excuse me all day.  Curlers in last.  I'll try and remember that. Move it, Tierney, let's get this over with."

[Rhi-Rhi]

"Yeah, yeah, like anyone else would want your grumpy face," Gabriel said with a snort, leading the way out of the gym. "You should smile more, give it a shot. Promise you won't crack or wrinkle!" He paused. "Much."

He headed toward one of the Citadel's many elevators and punched the button. There was a convenience store on the way to the fancy upper caste steakhouse Gabriel had in mind.

[Tally]

"I smile plenty."  He fell in behind Gabriel, watching the backs of his feet.

"You just don't get to see it cuz you're always pissing me off—"  When next Gabriel lifted his back foot up to bring it forward, Roman kicked the underside of his shoe.

[Rhi-Rhi]

"Yeah, sure, I guess I could see how a scowl could sorta look like a smile if you stand on your he--agh!"

With a startled sound, Gabriel stumbled, hopped, and he caught himself oh-so-gracefully against the wall by the elevator doors. Twisting around, he shot Roman a mock-glare. "Well maybe I wouldn't keep pissing you off if you weren't such an instigator! Kicking me while I'm down then kicking me while I'm up! Jeesh," he said, then shoved off the wall and slung an arm around Roman's shoulders.

"Really, you should be carrying me. I'm wounded." Which, well, was sort of the (very exaggerated) truth. He was still smarting from their sparring and dammit he didn't have to get in that last kick! Really! That was going to be one impressive bruise.

[Tally]

"I'm an instigator? I'm an instigator.  You," he said, poking Gabriel in the chest,  "are calling me an instigator?"

He laughed, half bitter and half disbelieving.  The things that came out of Gabriel's mouth sometimes!  "And you wonder why I kick you!"

He gave Gabriel a sly look, sidewise.  it was a good thing they were alone in the elevator, though he wasn't sure if company would even have stopped them.  It usually didn't, once they started up like this.  One of them said something intentionally antagonizing, the other chose to take it in the worst—or best, depending on your viewpoint—way possible, and before better sense could reign Roman found himself acting out in ways he never would have otherwise and not even caring if he made an ass of himself in public.  He generally liked for his peers to respect him.  But not enough to let Gabriel have the last word in anything.

"You know, you're right."  Roman scooped Gabriel up princess style, just in time for the elevator doors to sweep open and a crowd to greet them.

[Rhi-Rhi]

Like many of his other throwaway comments, Gabriel didn't expect Roman to take him seriously. He expected more of a 'yeah right', not a 'you're right'.

He blinked blankly at Roman, noticing the sly look too late. "Huh? Hey, whoa, what're you--HEY!"

Too late. Before he could do much about it, Roman swept him off his feet and he flailed gracelessly and gave a startled yelp. He threw his arms around Roman's neck to hang on--and that was when the elevator doors opened. To a crowd.

Of course. And, of course, people stared.

Face heating up--which couldn't have helped how this looked--Gabriel squirmed awkwardly and pushed at Roman's shoulders. "Oookay, heh, yeah, enough with the carrying, I'm better now, you're muscly, it's all good! Really. Never felt better. So, uh, down. Put me down!"

[Tally]

"Injured Pilot, coming through!  Make a path!"

They could all see plainly that Gabriel was in no way injured, and they all stared every bit as much as Roman could have hoped as he hauled Gabriel through the center of the crowd waiting for the elevator.  The flailing and squirming only made it better.

"Gods.  Make up your mind."  When they were past them, Roman dumped Gabriel out of his arms.

[Rhi-Rhi]

The only reason Gabriel didn't try to hide his face against Roman's neck was because it would have looked about a thousand times worse. But goddammit, people saw, and he was forced to endure it as they went through that crowd. It felt like forever and it wouldn't have surprised him if Roman was going deliberately slow.

Finally they were past the crowd and he was back on his feet, face red. He shot Roman a look, reached out and pat him on the shoulder. "...Y'know. You weren't supposed to actually do it."