Before I Forget

The Whole Fucking Thing

When the match started, Sky couldn't even remember what she'd been so nervous about.

This was Hawk - he loved her. He wasn't going to let her down.

She knew every inch of his body, every movement was familiar. His sharp, precise strikes and punches, his powerful, fast kicks - Sky had seen them all, watching him train at the dojo. And she loved everything about him - the lines of his long limbs, the smooth skin over hard muscle - the sharpness in his eyes as he looked at her, evaluated her as an opponent instead of a lover. But Sky also remembered how that skin felt under her touch when she slid her hands over his bare chest, his muscled arms. She knew the taste of those lips, the scent of his skin when he laid her on the bed and she wrapped her arms around his body, buried her face into his neck, and breathed in the smell of sweat and salt and steel and cotton and boy.

Everything about him was beautiful, from the top of his mohawk to his bare feet and toes. And Sky would gladly see him win.

He was hesitant at first, circling the mat, his eyes never leaving hers. But as she didn't hold back, and attacked with full force, he instinctively blocked her advances. It became clear that if Sky knew his movements, he knew hers too.

It was almost like dancing.

Not that Sky had ever danced with him. He had said he didn't dance, and she hadn't pressed on it - after all, in the few parties they'd been together, she had been happy to dance for him, the way his eyes glided on her body when she did so, was more than enough of a reward for her.

But had they danced, this is what it would be like.

Every move had a counter move, every attack was blocked. Where one kicked, the other ducked, where one struck, the other retreated. They weren't two people - they were one - one swirl of constant, fluent movement without end or beginning, and through it all, she was smiling.

She hadn't realized fighting could be like this, she hadn't felt this kind of a connection with anyone, not sine–

–since Kat.

Fighting Kat had been like this too. Like it really didn't matter which one of them won, because they were in it together.

She scored a point by landing a kick on Hawk's chest - but she could tell he didn't just let it happen. He was really trying to block that kick, but she was faster.

The next point went to Hawk - he threw her down on the mat, but the fist that met her sternum barely grazed the fabric of her gi, the contact so slight she almost didn't feel it at all.

His eyes were wide as he helped her up, but she gave him a grin, her hand lingering on his for a couple of seconds.

"You okay?" he asked, slightly out of breath. "I didn't... I didn't hurt you did I?"

"You can hit me, you know," Sky replied with a reassuring smile. "I won't break."

He didn't reply, and Sky didn't force it. She knew he wouldn't want to hurt her - but it was enough for her that he was really fighting. If he wanted to score his points by the smallest contact possible, she would take it. All she wanted was a fair fight, and to see Hawk win.

And again they were dancing - his leg span over her head as she ducked down, her fist met with his arm as he blocked her forward strike, the sharp gasps, and grunts that left his lips were the most beautiful sound Sky had ever heard. She forgot everything else, her body was strong and swift, and he looked at her like she was something spectacular. Like she was a star in the sky.

She got another point, managing a kick on his chin - and just like him, she kept the contact light. Her feet barely scratched the skin of his jaw, but it was enough.