Backdated: Matt and Frank

[x-daredevil.livejournal.com]

Matt and Frank spar and discuss family some more



Meeting Frank in the gym, Matt was dressed for casual sparring in a pair of black leggings and a blue Under Armor shirt. That thing was ridiculously comfortable. Frank had been away taking care of personal stuff for awhile and Matt was glad he was back. He considered the younger man a friend. "You do any exercising while away?" he asked, bending backwards casually into a back bend once he heard Frank enter the gym and then stretch easily.

Frank- dressed in loose black pants and a wife beater- shrugged as he started to stretch. "A little. The old man got a little edgy when I told you were teaching me how to fight, though." He grinned. "Should have seen him. 'I will not have my boy become a felon.' Then I pointed out how long his rapsheet is in most of the free world and he shut up."

This was the first time Frank had ever volunteered anything about his family. It seemed... appropriate that Matt be the one he tell.

That made Matt grin, "Sounds like my Pop," he agreed easily, "Lots of 'do as I say, not as I do' and all that. Big difference between knowing how to fight and choosing to fight, you know? You can be a felon without fighting, too. Look at me," it didn't bother him that Frank's dad apparently had a record, so did his dad. So did he. Whatever. Sometimes, stuff happened.

"Yeah, well. You make it work for you, dude," Frank replied, smirking. "Makes you a better badass. So, how're we doing this? No powers?" He kind of wanted something challenging, but that covered most of his sparring matches with Matt.

"Handcuffs are the latest accessory according to Vogue," Matt teased, laughing. "Yeah. I'll try not to bruise you up to bad for the new year, you do the same for me. Gotta remember, you may not have your powers to rely on," he remembered all too clearly what that was like in Genosha and just how helpless and truly blind he'd been.

"Aww. But I was looking forward to my bruises," Frank snarked, taking up a defensive stance and smirking. "All Christmas, I kept asking Santa for 'em, but the bastard just ain't into S&M."

"They're less satisfying when you can't see them," Matt explained. Therefore, why inflict them? He struck without warning, forcing Frank back and slightly off balance, "But I'll be happy to tie you up if you want."

Frank rolled with the blow, catching himself and dropping down for a quick left jab to Matt's solar plexus. "Ooh, baby, you always know just what to say," he replied, still smirking, before stepping in again for a flurry of punches. He'd been practicing.

Blocking Frank with his forearms, Matt grinned, pleased, "You need to hit harder," he encouraged, "You're not wood, so you need to put more of your back into it. Don't hit from your shoulder, use the power from your back," Frank was definitely getting better in terms of hitting his target consistently.

Frank didn't respond verbally. Instead, he took Matt's advice, showering the other boy with punches to the chest. Most of them Matt would block or shrug off, but it gave Frank time to shift his footwork to something more stable.

Stable footwork was important. Very, very important. Without warning, Matt switched from blocking Frank to stepping back and then taking out his knees. "Almost," he complimented, helping Frank up. "If we were straight up boxing you'd be doing good," he said, "but self defense isn't just about one thing. Stay on the balls of your feet. A lot of people say to watch the other person's eyes, but...." he shrugged, that wasn't very useful for him. "One more time?"

Frank wheezed for a moment, gulping down air before nodding. "Sure. Clearly I'm out of practice." Half way through the sentence he darted forward into a left-right jab, then lashed out with a kick to Matt's shin. Not the most elegant of techniques, but it had its charms.

Matt supported dirty fighting. Going down with that kick, he took Frank down with him. Hey, all was fair in love and self defense. "What's your dad done, anyway?" he asked, pretty sure he was going to have a bruise. He was curious.

Frank rolled into the fall, but came up with his shoulder tightening. Damn. He must have landed on it funny. That was going to sting in the morning. "Well he's a journalist. Started out in sports, then worked politics for a couple of years. He's pretty big on activism." He circled warily, trying to work out what to do next. "By that I mean he's been on the wrong end of a riot cop on... I think every continent?"

"I'm not sure riot police have a 'right end,'" Matt mused, "but that's really cool. That he's so passionate about things and takes a stand. My dad mostly just got arrested for drunken brawls or assault or whatever," nothing that got him a lot of trouble and nothing all that interesting.

"I'm sure their wives'd disagree with you," Frank replied, smirking. He feinted left before lashing out at Matt's right, retreating as soon as he landed a blow. "It kind of is, I guess. It's just..." he paused, stepped back again. "I don't know. Family, right?"

Backing up was a good idea, too bad Matt's reach was longer than Frank's. "No wife," he said, "Obviously, I was born, but...my dad never married. I've never meet my mom. He didn't talk about her or nothin,'" it didn't bother Matt most of the time. Maybe if she'd been around he wouldn't have been in foster care. Maybe things would have been worse. "But yeah. Family."

Frank took the blow hard, and dropped to the floor. "Ouch," he wheezed. After a moment, he managed to drag himself to his feet again. "Okay. So you're still better at this then me."

"You're getting there," Matt encouraged, "I'm not going as easy on you as I used to," there was definitely marked improvement. He figured that he'd over shared, oops.

Frank shrugged, still wheezing and honestly a little glad the conversation had changed topics. "Give it time, I guess," he managed eventually, before reaching out for a hand up.

Time was a miraculous thing when it was paired with practice, healing and all sorts of other things, "All you can do," he agreed, "Alright then. Again?"