So Many Striders - Now With Illustrations!

When they get up to the roof, Hal crouches to tie his sneakers because exercising with loose laces is a great way to fall on your face like an idiot. He then straightens up and starts to stretch, warming himself up before getting into any actual exercise because that's now to keep your muscles from screaming at you in pain. "Yeah, let's try to avoid any robosplosions. You think it's possible to rent roombas? We could get him a small and temporary gang to help out with roof cleaning." Hey Dirk let's make a mercenary army of robots.

 

"Nah, I figured when we started having robot battles up here the roomba based fight would help take care of that. DJ Roomba will have the most impressive dueling harness. Whichever wins the roomba-royal can lead it's own little band of roomba warriors as roomba shogun. If the DJ wins I'll make it a little hat and everything, bearing the Strider crest, which is also a hat."

Dirk stretches a bit, though he'd already done some floor ones in his room downstairs. Then he starts to go through the regular routine of warm-up exercises that he's had memorized forever, counting under his breath like he always does in time with the music DJ Roomba thoughtfully provides.

 

"Yeah okay, that sounds way better than my idea. And, I'm just saying, DJ is totally going to win. Especially if he comes up here with you on the regular, he'll get some mad training in."

When Hal's sure he's all stretched out (he'd really rather not fuck this body up so soon after getting it) he looks around the roof, wondering what to do. He sets off for a slow jog around the perimeter, like a big cat in a zoo cage. Practising his flashstep sounds like a good idea, but he doesn't want to do it on the roof without another flashstepper paying attention and ready to grab him back from the edge if necessary. When Dirk takes a break from the kata, he'll ask him to do that.

 

After Dirk finishes with his warm up he goes through some lower level kata just to make sure he stays in practice. He's likely never going to have to fight anyone ever again, but neither do the people who take martial arts classes for fun or join kendo clubs.

At first he's aware of Hal doing laps around the perimeter of the roof, but it doesn't take long for him to focus on the exercises. He's never had the opportunity to work with a mirror so he has to be very conscious about how and where his body is moving. As soon as he finishes one he moves on to the next, pushing himself work through each successive form perfectly and with as much energy as the first.

 

Hal does five or six laps, not really counting, just losing himself in the feel of his chest moving as he breaths and his feet hitting the gravelly roof top, keeping to a steady rhythm greatly assisted by DJ roomba. He feels fully pumped up and ready for some real work by the end of the fifth or sixth loop, so he slows down to a halt, to check on Dirk's state of what's going on.

He then gets... rather distracted by just watching Dirk do the kata. There's a definite grace in the controlled, precise movements, the way he flows from one to the next without hesitation. And also, damn, those are some fine fucking arms Dirk has there. Hal really appreciates the choice of clothing that led to them being fully visible. He rests a hand on his hip and lets the other hang loose by his side, watching Dirk move.

 

It takes a little while, but eventually Dirk notices Hal has stopped circling him. A minute or two after that he notices Hal's eyes on him and starts to feel self conscious. It's harder to concentrate with Hal watching, especially when he's watching, er, like that. With that look on his face. He makes it to the end of that particular kata, pauses for a moment to breathe, and sets his sword down before turning to Hal.

The cheesy line 'like what you see?' pops into his head but Hal is the one flirting up a storm, not him. It's been frustrating having to tone down the jokes though. Before he'd had no idea how many of their jokes could have been construed as flirty, double meaning type things.

"Was there something you wanted to do in particular? I think I remember you mentioned about learning to flashstep."

 

If Hal's making it harder to concentrate then really, he's doing Dirk a favour, making the kata more challenging. Not that he's currently thinking of it as anything other than enjoying the view. He smiles cheerfully when Dirk looks over, at peace with being caught watching as it's hardly the first time it's happened. And really, if Dirk is finding it frustrating to tone down the jokes, he should definitely start joking again. Hal would be thrilled.

"Yeah, when you were done with the kata I was going to ask if you'd mind keeping an eye on me while I did that - I can get going but sometimes my aim is a bit wonky, and I don't much like the sound of slamming into one of the air con vents at flashstep speed."

 

"I can spot you for that, sure. Running face first into shit at top speed is a time honored tradition in learning to flashstep but you're kind of a delicate flower, don't want your petals getting all bruised." He pulls a couple of two liters of bright orange pop out of his sylladex and puts them on opposite sides of the roof. "Having something obvious to aim for that you can't smash yourself against might help, but maybe start breaking before you reach them, so that by the time you reach the bottle you'll actually be stopped. When you start feeling more confident in your stopping abilities then you can put the breaks on closer and closer to the pop. Does that sound like a plan?" Dirk is actually a tiny bit anxious about the lack of walls to slam into since a broken nose is vastly preferable to pitching off the side of a building, but Hal has been practicing, it should be fine.

 

"Damn right I'm delicate." Hal grins widely at the description and gives his best attempt at a coquettish pose, which ends up looking more like something out of a magical girl anime; one hand on his cocked hip, that leg kicked up behind him and toes curled, and the other hand in a salute with his fingers just above his ear. He then wobbles and has to put his foot down, and jogs over to the closest pop bottle. "Yeah that sounds great dude, thanks. You ready?" He shakes his shoulders, loosening up his arms, and jogs briefly on the spot before crouching down over one leg, the other stretched out behind him, fingertips pressed to the surface of the roof like he's a professional sprinter rather than a nerdy kid who's trying to relearn how to run faster than the human eye can track.

 

Dirk flashsteps to the far bottle and feels one of his feet shift under him a tiny bit when he stops. He really should get up here with a push broom or a small army of roombas. Or one big roomba with a push broom. Why clean yourself when a robot can do it?

He calls, "Ready when you are!" across the roof.

 

But Dirk many small things are always better than one giant thing. Hal nods, leaning forwards and backwards a few times, before launching forward. He flashes to midway between the bottles then sprints the rest of the way, skidding to a halt, then turns to do the same again, not bothering to get down into the sprinter's position. He keeps going back and forth several more times, each time slowing to a sprint a little later, a little closer to the bottle.

 

At first Dirk made sure that Hal was going to be able to stop okay before quickly flashstepping over to the other side, since Hal wasn't giving him a lot of time in between to actually get into a spotting position, but after a bit Hal seems like he has the hang of it. Dirk ends up hanging out somewhere between the two bottles, watching Hal go back and forth like he's watching a tennis match. "You're doing good dude!"

 

Grinning at the praise, Hal pushes himself significantly further than he's done before, trying to stop just before the bottle. He manages to quit flashstepping just where he wanted to and is starting to suck in the breath for an exultant whoop, or maybe a 'Ha!', as he skids forwards the couple of feet he needs to slow down. The only problem is, he doesn't have a couple of feet of rooftop. His shin hits the low ledge around the roof, his other leg still in the air behind him, and it almost feels like time is slowing down as his momentum pushes him forwards, yelling in terror as he tilts forwards over the edge, staring down the sheer wall at the alley so far, very far below.

 

Hal tries to stop at the pop bottle without properly dealing with his momentum and his feet skid on what Dirk should have recognized as a dangerous accumulation of dirt and debris. Dirk sees the expression on his face change, and is already in motion when Hal yells. He flashsteps expertly up to Hal, grabs him around the waist from behind and swings him in a half circle away from the ledge to bleed off his momentum. One of Dirk's feet slips out from under him and he chooses to fall hard on his back instead of letting go of Hal to regain his balance. His head ends up knocking against the ledge, but Hal falls safely on top of him instead of being flung across the concrete roof.

For a moment everything is still. Dirk realizes he's still holding Hal incredibly tightly and loosens his grip, but doesn't quite let go just yet.

 

He continues to yell as he's grabbed and swung around and falls, because he's scared and it was so far to the ground and if Dirk hadn't been there he'd have died and his life isn't great but he doesn't want it to end, he doesn't want it all to be over. He lays on Dirk, breathing hard and fast because he could have died, and when Dirk's tight grip (which is comforting, it grounds him and reminds him he's not currently pitching over the side of the roof and falling all the way down and down to his death) loosens, he squirms around, turning in his arms to press his face against Dirk's neck, shades pressing into his face but fuck them he could have died. Dirk's lying flat on the roof so he can't get his arms underneath him, but he grips Dirk's shoulders and nudges his foot under one ankle, and it's almost enough.

 

Hiccupy little stabs of panic assault Dirk's stomach every couple of seconds, and bright flashes of pain throb in his head in time with his heartbeat. He threads his fingers into Hal's hair and holds the back of his head with one hand, wrapping his other arm securely around Hal's waist. He wants to curl himself around Hal protectively, fuck that was scary, but he doesn't want to alarm Hal even more by making him feel trapped. Hals' glasses are digging into his neck but fuck it, other shit hurts worse.

"You're okay, I've got *hssst* I've got you." His voice is shaky, like he doesn't quite believe it himself, and he hisses when Hal nuzzling into his neck makes the back of his head press into the gritty rooftop. "God, I can't. That was so fucking scary. Hal are you hurt? Please be okay." He sniffles, because of the head wound obviously, and further tangles his legs with Hal's. He might be hyperventilating a little bit, but its hard to tell with Hal's weight on top of him.

 

Hal is still so fucking scared. None of it's fear of Dirk or entrapment, though, he's currently way too taken up with fear of big huge deep spaces opening up beneath his legs and him falling down into them and dying and not having a body any more. His breathing's shallower, less like he can't take in a proper breath, but his hands are shaking and he grips Dirk's shoulders tighter. He breathes out a shaky sigh when Dirk holds the back of his head, pressing his face firmer into his neck. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he makes a "uh-uh" noise when Dirk asks if he's hurt. He's fine, he's physically fine, so long as Dirk keeps holding him down and doesn't let him fall.

 

After a little bit Dirk coaxes Hal to let him remove his square glasses so that they aren't cutting into the tender skin of his neck. His own had skittered across the roof when he landed, and he thinks they might be cracked. Hal doesn't seem to like Dirk letting go of him, so he returns to firmly holding the back of Hal's head and wraps around him just a little more tightly. "You're not going to fall, I've got you, I won't ever let that happen to you. You're safe, Hal, I'll keep you safe." His voice wavers on the last bit and he tries to press his cheek to the top of Hal's head but moving hurts like a motherfucker. He gasps and squeezes his eyes closed, but doesn't want to let go of Hal long enough to check the injury. It doesn't feel painful enough that he actually cracked his skull open so it's probably fine.

 

He pushes his glasses into his sylladex then uses the lack of hard frames on his face to press the whole top part of it flat against Dirk's neck, breath puffing shallow and kind of fast against his décolletage. This totally isn't weirdly intimate. He's not sure how Dirk knew he kind of still feels like he's going to fall but he really fucking appreciates the reassurance. The gasp is a liiiiittle bit more worrying than reassuring though, and he tries to ask what's wrong but all that comes out is "Hhhh?" Fucking fantastic he just loves it when this happens it's so great when he can't fucking talk. He wriggles instead, trying to loosen Dirk's grip on him enough that he can lift his head and try to hunt out what's wrong.

 

His head hurts and he's still panicking a little bit, but Hal's solid, warm weight on him and his breath against Dirk's skin is making him feel better. More than better. His heart is going like crazy; delayed relief combined with an imminent adrenaline crash making his chest fill with warmth, affection, and a reckless need to keep Hal close for just a little bit longer. It strikes him that he's being irrationally clingy but now that he knows Hal is safe he's allowed to have a little moment, right? His eyes prickle when Hal shifts, but he loosens his hold enough for Hal to draw away, the hand in his hair falling to rest on Hal's shoulder instead. He swallows twice before being able to whisper, "No, please." His voice is all choked up, he clears his throat and asks "Stay?" in a slightly more normal voice.