Logs:Roll With The Punches

Roll With The Punches
Dramatis Personae Steve, Bucky
In Absentia	1943-09-12 “And here I always thought bigger guys were gonna be slow."
Location <LDN> SSR Headquarters – Gym/Training Room
The warehouse-like room has been fitted for various types of physical training, broken into sections by different equipment and thick mats on the floor. The late hour finds the place mostly empty, save for a duo occupying the boxing ring that takes up one of the rooms corners. For the first time in one of these training sessions, Bucky is the smaller combatant. Forget being big as a house; they made Steve as big as a whole damned apartment building. Luckily for him, Steve ended up about as graceful as one too. Not for the first time, Bucky pulls off a glove and offers a hand to help Steve up from the ring floor. “Shouldn’t be that easy to overbalance you,” he good-heartedly rags. Most of his lost weight has returned to him since Azzano though his undershirt still fits a bit loosely, his cheekbones a touch sharper than they were at the World’s Fair. His hair hangs messily over his forehead, the time of night not doing much to help the faint semi-circles under his eyes. Steve is not easy to help up. Though he's done more than his share of hesitating when he should strike and striking badly even when he does, his solid bulk has absorbed the many blows and falls without showing any bruises or breaking so much as a sweat in his white a-shirt and khaki trousers. His hair, at least, is as messy as his friend's, though not as overgrown. "Well, I shouldn't be this far from the ground, either," he agrees, faintly exasperated. "I don't know how you stay upright, even from there." He reaches out to tap Bucky's shoulder with one gloved fist by way of emphasis. Then shakes his shoulders and hops back. "You not pulling punches, are ya?" He sounds genuinely uncertain as he circles his opponent again. Bucky has to quickly change his stance once Steve actually starts to get up—muscle memory adjusting to new reality—but makes no complaint about it. His shoulder raising under the tap of Steve’s glove, he replies with a roguish grin. “Oh, simple. I grew into it instead of turning myself into a golem.” Pulling his own glove back on, he gets back into stance and starts to circle the ring as well, glancing over Steve for any sort of opening. “Watch your feet, pal. Keep your stance wide like that, it won’t matter if I am pulling punches. Which I’m not, before you start.” "Well, I wasn't growing into into it," Steve complains mildly. "But I'll give you that one." He does tighten his stance at Bucky's warning, and immediately afterward darts in with a light, quick right jab. Jumps back just as quickly, scrutinizing his opponent. "You sure you all better now?" The jab that Bucky parries has far more force behind it than it did when he was training Steve back in Goldie’s, even with Steve inevitably pulling his punches. Conversely, the straight punch he counters with instead of immediately answering carries all his strength. Even if he managed to sucker punch Steve again, he’s pretty sure all he’d have to show for it would be a busted hand. “I’m fine,” he says, obviously not for the first time, while bouncing away from Steve. “This some kinda payback for all the years I asked you that or something?” Bucky's answering blow catches Steve squarely in the shoulder, but the bigger man keeps his feet this time as they spin apart again. "Don't worry. If this were actually payback, I'd be asking a lot more." He surges forward, overbalanced even if his left cross far faster than any other man's. There is certainly... an attempt to block the left cross! Bucky’s training is good, but it’s not that good. Unable to raise his forearm in time, Steve’s gloved fist catches him squarely in the right cheek with a meaty thunk. The strike clicks his teeth together painfully and stumbles him back against the ropes. A dull, pounding ache on the side of his face promises worse pain later. “And here I always thought bigger guys were gonna be slow,” he groans, shaking his head to try and clear it while he pushes back to his feet. Probes at his teeth with his tongue and ignores the taste of blood. “That payback too?” Not having put any follow-through into the cross, Steve looks genuinely startled -- and a little dismayed -- when Bucky staggers back. "Oh gosh, Buck," he blurts, straightening and stepping forward. "Are you al--" But he manages to check himself this time. Resumes his stance and slides back again, giving his opponent space. "No, that was...me being faster than I thought a bigger guy would be." His lips press together. "You're right. It ain't natural." “I’m alright,” Bucky reassures him, waving it off with a gloved hand. “It’s not the worst hit I’ve taken.” He’s pretty sure, at least. He can feel his cheek starting to swell already. The bruise he’s going to have probably isn’t gonna do much for the ladies around headquarters either. Still, he gets back into stance—this one focused a bit more on blocking. “Maybe not,” he offers with some sympathy. “It is what it is, though. Best to get used to it.” His tone takes on a familiar joking rhythm after a moment. “Besides, if you caught me off-guard, imagine what you can do to some Nazis.” "I'm trying to get used to it," Steve replies heavily. "I keep finding new ways I'm a freak." He darts in with a rapid double-tap of light jabs, hopping back at once. "Golem or freak or whatever I am. It'll be worth it if we can take down this -- this Hydra."