Punctual as ever, Barnaby wasn't left waiting long before the training room door clicked open and Martín del Mar strode through the threshold. He watched as the admin approached, appreciating his casual confidence, that enticing smirk on his face... and perhaps the flattering way his workout clothes hugged his body, too.

"Of course. I had to make sure the space was prepared just right for your downfall." Barnaby quipped, leaning in at Mars' touch and returning his kiss. He noticed the mischief in his lover's eyes as he did so; rather than mischief, though, his were matched with a burning, competitive intensity.

"I did, thank you. We won't need a repeat of that incident." No matter how much Barnaby had secretly enjoyed being swept up in Martín del Mar's arms. He'd never admit it, at least not here, in a situation like this.

"Let's get started." Pushing himself off the wall, Barnaby walked over to the center of the rubber mat. "Hand-to-hand combat. First to pin is the victor. Sound good?"

Martín del Mar

☉

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” And that was the honest truth. This scenario had been playing in Barnaby’s mind for the past few weeks; he’d envisioned their fight and it’s inevitable conclusion many times. In these hypotheticals he’d always come out on top as the victor. Triumphant and validated.

Why did it matter so much to him, though, how the admin in front of Barnaby viewed him? Was it professional obligation? Amiable competitiveness among friends? Or something else that drove him to desire Martín del Mar’s approval?

Whatever it was that motivated him, Barnaby had no plans to hold back. He fell into a fighting stance: feet staggered, rear heel raised, arms up to protect his upper body, chin down. All in one fluid movement that spoke to the repetitive nature of the action.

Then, he made his first strike. A testing blow to the face, meant to gauge Mars’ reflexes and defensive capabilities.

Martín del Mar

☉

Fast. Faster than Barnaby had been expecting, even with him consciously trying not to underestimate Martín del Mar. His first attempt was easily evaded with the ducking of Mars' head and the simple shifting of his stance, ending in a decisive hit.

Reflexively, a hand went down to clutch at his stomach as a small groan escaped his lips. After the initial blow, a wave of nausea came and went, held off by pure willpower alone. Luckily, it didn't seem as if Mars was using his full power behind that punch, otherwise Barnaby would probably be doubled over right about now.

With a sharp inhale, he met the admin's eye and smirked - was the situation amusing to BARNABY FINCH? Perhaps, although as he replied to Mars there was a cutting edge to his voice that wasn't present before. "Same goes to you. You're quick."

Barnaby returned to his fighting stance, this time briefly extending a hand and beckoning his sparring partner forward. "Come on. One hit isn't going to deter me."

Martín del Mar

☉

He almost gave in to the bait. After all, it was true, teasing and flirting were things that came so naturally to him. Especially when it was Martín del Mar on the receiving end of his attentions. So when the admin spoke, part of Barnaby wanted to respond, to relent and fall back into their easy banter.

But a wave of steeled resolve overshadowed these urges. It wasn't time for that. He'd asked for this fight.

So when Mars lunged forward, Barnaby was sure not to underestimate him this time. He focused on every minute detail, and as a fist was raised to swing, a step back was taken to avoid it.

Shit-

With only a second to react, Barnaby was barely able to shift and bring his leg up to take the kick. The force of the blow sent a rush of pain though his shin, but it wasn't debilitating. In the same fluid movement, he'd then try to counter with a cross punch to his opponent's jaw.

Martín del Mar

☉

He knew it had been a possibility.

Truly, how could they have avoided it?

Injury and sparring went hand-in-hand. It was an inevitability.

Still. When faced with a bloody-lipped Martín del Mar, knowing he had been the cause of it, Barnaby hesitated. Just for a second or two, but it had been enough.

Faster than he thought him able to recover, Mars moved forward in one fluid motion, his leg sweeping out to knock Barnaby off his feet. With a dull SMACK his back hit the mat and his eyes widened in surprise before instinct took control.

He felt Mars move over him, cursed silently to himself when the man's hands gripped both of his wrists. This was bad, but not necessarily inescapable.

Barnaby brought his left knee up to press on Mars' chest, blocking him from leaning further down. His other leg shifted up so that his foot was positioned squarely on his partner's left hip; if possible, he'd slam that foot forward and try to knock Mars off balance. If this succeeded, Barnaby would then attempt to roll and get on top of the admin.

Martín del Mar

☉

It was true, Hoenn was the sort of place that slaughtered the unprepared.

But how could he have expected this?

Martín del Mar wasn't an Avatar, as far as Barnaby was aware. He hadn't been experimented on or mutated in some way.

And yet...

"What—" The word caught in Barnaby's throat as he was slammed to the ground. For a moment, the air rushed out of his lungs, the force of the impact causing him to gasp in surprise.

"Martín, how—aahh!" Mars' grip tightened around his arm, twisting in a way that was particularly painful. The knee to Barnaby's back was the final nail in the coffin and solidified the admin's hold over him; in this position, there wasn't much Barnaby could do to escape.

Mars whispered his triumph in Barnaby's ear, and it practically incensed him. The sensation also sent goosebumps down his neck and arms, but that was ignored for now.

"Fuck." He managed to spit out, craning his head to the side to glare up at Martín del Mar. "What was that?"

Had he snuck one of his many Psychic-type Pokémon in without Barnaby noticing?!

Martín del Mar

☉