Form a team they said.

Share a room they said.

Sacrifice your privacy and spend the rest of your trainee program in close quarters with a complete stranger that, incidentally, may or may not be a complete they said.

Learn to adapt to your partner and their behavioral pattern in order to forge a close-bonded companionship of sorts while you're at it.

No big deal.

In fact, this might just as well be considered an amplification method in human relations. Although, while his skills are considered exceptional, even someone as competitive as Junho can't resist the temptation of proving himself.

No big deal at all, as predicted.

"-- You've got to be kidding me."

Alright, maybe it's somewhat of a deal.

A moderate deal.

^

Dismissed to deposit their belongings in the academy's living quarters after a lengthy, exceedingly informational speech delivered by no other but the tremendously avid Instructor Kim, who quite effortlessly maintained uttering a string of words in a single tone of voice for perceived 20 minutes, thus managing to bore the entire assembly half to death.

Including his colleague, the latter resulting to staring somewhere far off as his fellow officer listed the regulations, until, deeming it enough, intercepted with a loud clap, nervous applause bouncing off the walls as everyone joined in.

Evidently, Officer Kim is a real joy to be around.

Junho had been the first one to receive his room key as he and his partner were left standing before both disciplinary officers in the course of his monotone torrent of words, and, when handed the key, immediately retrieved his bag and fled.

Now, stopped in the doorway to their shared room by the sheer force of discomposure, the realization that this is indeed what Instructor Kim referred to as 'cozy' hits him like a train wreck.

Actually, it's more like a slap to the face. Another slap of the many he received today.

Multiple slaps.

Officer Kim: 1, Junho: 0

Compared to what he's used to frequenting on a regular basis, /this/ is more like being forced to live in a cardboard box after years and years of copious amounts of space.

Cozy doesn't even cut it anymore.

He clops into the relatively small room with several brusque strides, dumping his bag onto the bed closest to the adjoined balcony without leaving room for Lee to choose, turning to regard the interior instead in blatant disregard.

Simple, Junho notes. Clean. Somewhat of a hotel room kind of design, with a relatively smallish wood paneling dresser for both their clothes slanted at the far corner a few feet beside the left side of his bed that leaves no room for imagination, it's that plain.

It's poorly furnished, too, seeing as the dresser, their beds and the small nightstand separating them are the only things he has noticed so far.

-- Or the only things that are worth mentioning, for that matter.

And of course: the bath, Junho presumes at last with a brief glance at the door at the end of the cramped corridor.

But that's about it, too.

Nothing extraordinary, to say the least.

It's kind of depressing, actually, despite the light streaming in gently to illuminate the room through the wide stretch of curtains.

He heaves a long-suffering sigh, eyeing the dresser critically as he allows himself to sink onto the bed in defeat, good mood subdued.

There's no way both their wardrobes are going to fit into that thing. Hell, there's no guarantee his wardrobe will fit into it.

Not if they don't nail it down as tightly as possible to prevent it from springing open at random and overheap them with stray clothing when they least expect it, that's for sure.

Just--

No.

At that very instant, movement out of the corner of his eyes, catching his attention, and Junho, turning his head to see, blinks once.

Twice.

Blinks again.

"What are you doing?", he asks in bewilderment as his roommate removes his tie, shrugging off his jacket.

Lee ignores him in favor of changing out of his clothes, the eyebrow he arches speaking volumes.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

Somehow, and Junho doesn't know how, he manages to remain utterly unperturbed as he removes his cufflinks, turns towards him while he does so and even proceeds to pop the first button of his dress shirt, stiff collar loosened with a pointed tug.

Whatever the hell he's trying to do, Junho, tight-lipped and squinting, can't help but stare as inch after inch of pale skin is revealed incrementally, growing increasingly uncomfortable by the second as his gaze shifts from Lee's chest to his motionless face.

He tries to deflect by saying, "That's what I want to know. As far as I remember, we're supposed to meet with the group in about--", a glance at the clock hanging high on the wall opposite from them, eyes narrowing suspiciously as they flick back to his roommate again, "30 minutes. So, yeah. What exactly are you doing?"

The flimsy material slides off Lee's surprisingly toned form with ease, prominent bulge of his bicep bunching as he throws it on the bed, unabashed in no sense whatsoever.

Of course he's got abs.

"Changing," he says, non-committal.

Right.

Obviously.

Junho strongly suspects he's doing it on purpose -- wouldn't put it past him for wanting to flaunt a body like that --, but the longer he indulges his curiosity, the firmer his believe that the bastard is toying with him grows.

Plus, it grates on his nerves, which just won't do.

"You said it yourself, didn't you?", Lee continues after a short pause as he opens his bag, casual, "We're supposed to meet up in 30 minutes. -- 27 now, to be exact."

That makes him shut up momentarily, faint rustling the only noise in the otherwise silent room as Junho watches him in resentment, not the least inclined to revoke his prior statement out of stubbornness, Lee putting on a black tank top and producing a pair of sports pants all the while.

His head, however, turns oh so nonchalantly at the sight of his partner ping his suit pants, and, as if on cue, hands fly to his own bag in thinly disguised haste.

Angry or not, he's officially reached a point where his irritated glaring might've been taken the wrong way.

Let's just not go there altogether.

"I didn't know we were going to the gym," Junho remarks belatedly with a frown as he rummages through his clothes for a shirt that is not bordering on business attire for once, inwardly cursing himself the second the idle thought leaves him.

Contradicting your superiors is one thing, but being so inadvertent on your first day?

Smooth, Junho, smooth.

He's probably gonna think you're incompetent. More than you already made yourself out to be.

Repeatedly.

Thankfully, and to Junho's great surprise, Lee doesn't comment on it.

In fact, he stays completely silent.

Or so Junho assumes.

Huh.

How about that.

"Need a hand?", Lee's voice somewhere close behind him asks, and Junho, startled, turns to throw a look over his shoulder just to realize his roommate has been standing before him all along, doing god knows what.

"Hah?", is his oh so eloquent comeback, the hand gripping his workout clothes stilling in its tracks.

He bends down to grab one of Junho's ankles, like it's no big deal, like this is a thing they do -- the casual touching, lifting his leg and looking up at him from under dark eyelashes in expectancy.

Expectancy.

What exactly does he expect Junho to do?

Let him take off his shoe?

Undress him?

Wh--

"Changing," Lee repeats, calm personified, which would've sounded like a valid point coming out of his mouth, like a matter of course the way he says it, although there's also the way the bunching fabric of his trousers keeps riding higher and higher up his leg under Lee's wandering hands--

"We're gonna be late."

And Junho, unthinking, with his heart beating rapidly in his chest--

Kicks him.

Just straight up kicks him.

It's a knee-jerk reaction, to be fair, leg shooting out of Lee's loose grasp reflexively despite failing to connect with anything but thin air, but it's a kick nonetheless.

Impressive, but not nearly as satisfying as he hoped for it to be.

Though that doesn't really stop him from voicing his incredulity.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?", he blurts out angrily the second he manages to compose himself enough to form coherent sentences, frozen in place.

Lee actually looks stunned, even if it's for a split-second -- which is just comical, really --, an unguarded expression of pure, unadulterated alarm gracing handsome features, before it crumbles again and the motionless facade is back in place.

Junho can't decide if he should feel creeped out or successful for managing to elicit such a reaction out of him, however diverting.

Either way, it's memorable.

Grinding his teeth, he lowers his foot again, though not without giving Lee's shoulder a shove, completely out of spite seeing as he failed to sock him one prior.

Damn his freakish reflexes.

Lee captures his leg with ease, sharp gaze trailing a path along the entire stretch of it, and whatever he spots there makes him reach out to place a hand on Junho's kneepcap.

It's odd, much like everything else he does, and Junho can't help but frown at the overly intimate posture, struggling to pull away before whatever this is gets out of hand, or rather more out of hand than it already is.

As a matter of fact, Lee should get his hands off of him entirely.

He doesn't, and to make things worse, the odd glimmer in his eyes only adds to the nervous feeling in Junho's gut.

"You're kind of dense," Lee remarks airily just then, slicing through his nervous silence by firmly up the inside of Junho's thigh with his broad hand, so bold and sudden it makes Junho jerk in response with all the tingly sensations shooting up his spine, desperately trying to muffle a choked sound almost filtering past the firm press of his lips.

He has the same upturn to his mouth Junho witnessed back at the seminar room, infuriatingly smug and self-satisfied, and Junho can't shake the feeling this was just to get him back for the almost-kick to the face.

"And sensitive," he adds like the he is, sounding almost-- contemplative?

It doesn't really matter, because that's when Junho pulls away, a brusque tug freeing his abused leg, flushing from neck upwards with embarrassment and anger as he spits, "Stop touching me as you please, you bastard!"

Lee lets him go, sitting up.

"Why?", he asks, nonchalant, "We're supposed to be partners, aren't we? Partners are close."

"That--"

-- Sounds oddly consequential coming from someone like him, but logical.

Somewhat.

They are supposed to get along, not rip each other's faces off as soon as they're behind closed doors, and the fact that Junho is basically doing the exact opposite from what they were asked to do in order to achieve a healthy work relationship is not advisable in the least.

Actually, not advisable at all.

If he wants to get on the disciplinary officer's good side, that is, because it seems that this whole teamwork thing boils down substantially to that sole factor: teamwork.

Especially if he wants to pass, that's for sure.

Still, that doesn't entail him getting d and frisked at every presented opportunity.

His protests, however fervent, die on his tongue as he mulls over that fact, glaring up at his roommate in resolute silence while biting his lip to keep the profanities from spilling.

The other just arches an eyebrow at his antics, completely unimpressed if his expression is anything to go by.

"Get dressed," he throws over his shoulder as he turns his back on Junho and leaves.

And that's that. No 'Sorry' or 'I'll wait for you outside'.

Nothing.

Junho just falls back on his bed with an exasperated huff.

Bastard.

#

Tip of his shoe tapping against the carpeted floor twice to slip into it properly, a dull sigh leaves parted lips as Junho closes the door behind himself, pocketing the key to their room and heading out.

Now that he's alone, the prospect of appearing at the gym without a partner more or less seems like an awfully unappealing idea, seeing as Lee went ahead without asking whether or not to wait up for him.

The entire corridor is quiet as well, which means everyone else must've left with their respective teammates.

Great.

That would make him the last one to arrive.

Absolutely fantastic.

To be completely honest, he doesn't even remember where the gym is, let alone how to get there by himself, but apparently that's entirely for him to figure out.

Which is just grand, really.

Thanks for that, . Much appreciated.

He sighs again, making his way down a flight of stairs as he peeks over the wooden railing.

The dorms are located on the left wing of the academy, connected by these stairs leading up to the corridor I just passed, which means if I just follow the entirety of them, I should easily reach--

"Uh, hey. Excuse me?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Junho turns towards the unfamiliar voice with a slow glance backwards, looking up at a light-haired male hastily skipping down the stairs.

Nervous smile curving his mouth, his hand raises to scratch the back of his head in an embarrassed manner as he stops in front of Junho.

"Ah-- You're in my training group, right? You and that tall guy, uh-- Lee, if I remember correctly. Yeah."

He's not much taller than I am, Junho wants to point out just to preserve some of his battered dignity, but decides against it almost immediately and keeps his mouth shut, nodding instead.

Encouraged to continue, the other leaps into a brief explanation, lighting up significantly as his eyebrows almost merge with his hairline.

Junho has the sudden urge to pat his head, even though that only would result in awkward silence seeing as they're the same height, and -- probably -- about the same age, too.

Patting other people seems like a Lee thing to do, and Junho doesn't want to belittle him.

His eyebrows, however, are much darker than his actual hair color, Junho notes distractedly and with a hint of amusement. Oddly enough, it only seems to add to his somewhat juvenile complexion, the faint blonde ( almost bordering on silver ) imparting him with this boy-ish vibe.

Something in the set of his soft contours reminds him of an animal, too, come to think of it -- a feline of some sort, maybe? --, Junho can't quite put a finger on it, mentally filing it away to consider later.

It's kind of adorable, in any case.

"-- Thing is, my partner said he'd wait for me so we could meet up with everyone together, but I guess I took too long, and now I'm kind of, uh, alone," he explains quickly, shrugging his shoulders as his eyes sheepishly skitter away from Junho.

Junho blinks.

"Uh, yeah. That'd be-- us," he confirms lamely, nodding.

That makes his opposite huff for some reason, a timid smile unfurling across his face, "Yeah, kind of hard to miss. Anyway, I was wondering if we could go together since we're both, y'know--"

"Sure, yeah," he finds himself saying without a second of consideration, his mind apparently having already jumped on the idea of finally getting to know someone other than the oddity he calls his partner.

The more connections, the better, right?

"I mean, sure. Sure."

Although he must say this is probably one of the most unfavorable times to become acquainted with someone, especially since they're both in a hurry, which is why Junho, pointing behind himself and taking a step back, says, "We should get going, though."

His opposite perks up as if startled, nervous all over again.

"We should," he says, passing him hurriedly and leaving Junho no other choice but to follow as they both hurry down the stairs.

"Don't wanna piss off Officer Kim."

"Isn't he always?", Junho asks jokingly, "Pissed off, that is."

A cautious glance is directed towards his opposite, who just releases a huff of quiet laughter, clarifying with a nod, and Junho can't help but smile in return.

"Kind of, yeah."

#

They reach the main building, and, subsequently, the gym in record time; Junho, distracted by his own worries, takes a deep breath to calm his beating heart.

This is not gonna end well. God, I can already see it.

Officer Kim's self-satisfied face as he dismisses him for good.

His partner, not deigning to look at him.

The list of mishaps just keeps on growing and growing. First the stunt he pulled in the seminar room, and now, barely 40 minutes later, he's already coming in late for their first training session.

Maybe if he turns around now and--

Fingers snap in front of his face, bringing him back from the horror his mind is currently fixed on re-enacting.

"Sorry for that, you kind of spaced out there for a second," he explains once Junho trains his attention back on him, the side of his mouth quirking upwards in a small, encouraging smile as if knowing exactly what's going down inside of him and telling him it's alright, his hand returning to his side, bowing, "I'm Kim Hyungju."

"Park Yongje," Junho offers, his new alias leaving an unfamiliar taste on his tongue as a brief bow mimicks Hyeongju's one, "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Hyungju replies.

Looking ahead then, sighing as he motions uselessly with his hand, "I'm just gonna --," he says, pointing towards the door behind him, and Junho nods, tight-lipped and nervous.

Here goes nothing.

#

They both bow low upon entry, mumbled apologies rolling of their tongues in unison and gaze trained on solely the floor for a few seconds.

Agonizing, utterly terrifying seconds in which Junho can practically feel his heart sink the more time passes, gulping down the feelings clogging his throat.

But the awaited pause doesn't follow.

In fact, Officer Ok simply resumes his speech as if uninterrupted, making Junho sigh inwardly in relief as he simply waves them over with a curt gesture of his hand and allows them to join the group on the matted floor in semi-awkward silence.

With the training equipment pushed aside, the relatively old-fashioned gym room appears overly spacious and somewhat bleak in contrast to the sleek décor of the academy's modern interior, but more than enough to fit a group of 30 trainees with sole intent to simply train.

Junho, seating himself, chances a quick look at Hyungju, who returned to his partners side right away from the looks of it, wearing an apologetic expression as he undoubtedly explained the situation to him.

His teammate -- a foreign, bronze-haired male -- smiles good-naturedly and just shakes his head, patting Hyungju's shoulder, which has him visibly relaxing under the reassuring touch.

Talk about lucky.

Lee, on the other hand...

Junho doesn't even want to think about Lee, that's how much he cares.

Alas, he's practically obligated to, but--

Where exactly is Lee, anyway?

Inconspicuously, Junho's cursory gaze scans the packed training room, searching for a dark head of hair peeking out of the crowd of blank faces like the only skyscraper in a small town.

Which-- doesn't really work well.

It's either craning his neck and drawing unnecessary attention upon himself or sitting his down quietly to prevent his metaphorical list from growing even further.

And hell if his choice isn't 100 % the latter.

He's not gonna risk his reputation just because Lee, freakishly tall giant embodied, vanished from the face of earth at random.

Nowhere to be seen, Junho notes with a frown, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

He's bound to appear once they get to the practical part of the session, anyway, he tells himself, about to divert his attention back to the lesson when a pair of dark orbs grab his attention out of the corner of his eyes, skittering aimlessly in search before he finally spots him.

Lee--

His heart jolts in his chest upon realization that it's his partner, half-concealed by Officer Ok who had been blocking his view on him the entire time and sitting beside someone Junho doesn't recognize.

Heavy-lidded gaze trained on Junho, he cants his head to listen to whatever the male sitting next to him is saying, a faint suggestion of amusement flickering past clear-cut features. The action pronounces the sharp curve of his jaw all the more, exposed neck a pale, long arch.

And Junho-- Junho can't help but return his stare, utterly confused yet enthralled at the same time.

There's something about his every move, his mocking mannerism and the upturn of his mouth that sets Junho off, makes him hot under the collar with anger and defiance, wanting to wipe that expression off his face, but a the same time refusing to let it faze him, because it's not worth it.

Starting a fight with him wouldn't lead you anywhere, Junho.

He decides to break his gaze with a disinterested turn of his head, focusing on Officer Ok's steady stream of instructions as if unaffected by their wordless exchange, but the prickly feeling on his skin is indication enough for him to know Lee is still watching him.

Not that he cares.

"-- Always make sure that your assailant, once on his back and immobilized momentarily, stays on the ground long enough for you to decide your next step. However, in hand-to-hand combat, preventing him from reaching for a potential weapon should be your very first instinct, as it is something more likely to happen than him coming back to his feet," Officer Ok explains calmly, his left hand outstretched to gesture amidst his speech while the other is kept behind his back.

"Now, for everyone unfamiliar with martial arts but willing to partake a special course afterwards - a demonstration. Any volunteers?"

"Mr. Park," a sharp voice from somewhere in the back calls, effectively startling Junho and the entire room, everyone -- including Officer Ok, who steps aside -- turning their heads towards it.

Really now?

30 trainees, and he's the only Mr. Park?

Jesus Christ.

Then again, no Mr. Park earned his title spoken with such venom quite like he did.

Junho meets Officer Kim's gaze reluctantly, knowing what awaits him just by the stern tone lacing his alias, and his superior, tilting his head in an oddly innocent fashion, fixes him with a look and a raised eyebrow.

"Just a suggestion," he explains suddenly, shrugging, "After all, he did come in late. Surely he'd like to compensate for his sloppy behavior?"

Actually, he doesn't, but that's out of question now, is it?

Seeing no other choice but to comply, Junho pointedly ignores everyone's blatant stares, getting to his feet wordlessly as per request and moving to the center of the room to create some space between him and the group.

He clears his throat, awkwardly looking around in search for a second 'volunteer'.

"I need--," he starts, but Officer Kim, charming as ever, intercepts immediately, a motion of his hand indicating for someone in the back to join his side, and, oh god, Junho thinks with a sudden burst of panic.

Please don't let it be--

"Mr. Lee."

Too late.

The expression on Officer Kim's face is that of mild expectation as he waits for a response, bordering on exaggerated in a mocking fashion, like Junho being called out to perform in front of the group is something that automatically entails him, which is somewhat of a consolation.

But not really.

It's just typical -ish behavior, really, seeing as this a theoretical lesson and not something involving teamwork.

He knows they don't get along particularly well, which only makes matters worse.

Quiet rustling of someone getting up resounds from behind him, before Lee comes into his range of vision, nonchalant in the way he positions himself in front of Junho with only a couple of feet separating them.

Clenching his jaw, Junho averts his eyes to avoid looking at him, instead watching Officer Ok cross the room to join his colleague's side.

"Both of you. Alternate between demonstrating  possible self defense moves," he instructs curtly, leaving them a brief pause.

Junho takes a deep breath to collect and steel himself as he gets into a fighting stance, feet in a lateral distance and hands raised loosely in front of himself, rolling his shoulders once.

Lee mimicks him, with the exception that his whole posture is a tad looser, wider stance and distance of his legs the first things Junho notices.

A wider posture is more open and vulnerable to attacks aimed at lower regions of the body, and it makes Junho wonder whether he is purposefully baiting him to chance an attack of that sort or simply trying to accommodate his height.

Which just fits into the spectrum of strange things Lee does to annoy him.

This list, too, is growing rapidly.

However, before he manages to overthink, the officer announces the start of their demonstration with a curt clap.

"Begin."

It's like the tension flows out of his body the second he moves; his right foot barely brushes the surface of the soft mats as the swiping movement pulls both foot and simultaneously his raised hand back in a practiced lunge, throwing a precise punch aimed at his face without hesitation.

The harder, the better -- his devise.

Lee -- as expected -- prevents the impact with a shift of his head, which, in his haste, induces Junho to wrap his wrist into a tight grip in order to keep him from escaping his attack twice.

He's tall, sure, broad even, and therefore easily accessible when in close range, which grants Junho more maneuvering room.

But this time, when he pulls back for his second assault, the atmosphere seems to shift, a flicker of something indeterminable flashing in his partners eyes before he surprises him by pivoting out of his range and behind Junho with such velocity and fluidness to his movements, he manages to place his free hand on Junho's neck and squeeze before Junho can escape, startling him enough to go pliant beneath Lee's touch.
It feels real, lethal, the way his body blends in with Junho's and practically guides him like a puppet in a half-circle, a steady, dominating presence. The way one single hold of his hand envelopes the side of Junho's throat, pressure threatening to crush his windpipe if he attempts to move.

Junho swallows jerkily against the thumb that brushes over his adam's apple oh so delicately -- whether it's reassurance or a silent warning, he doesn't know, but the gesture alone makes his pulse skyrocket and hammer widly.

However, whatever is left of his breath is punched out of him the next moment as he is pushed towards the ground so harshly and rapidly, he nearly loses his footing, desperately gripping Lee's wrist tighter in the process to keep from slipping entirely.

-- A mistake, he notices belatedly as Lee pulls him up with the arm Junho is hanging onto and cages him against his broad shoulder with his free one, inner elbow keeping him in a loose chokehold.

"You were late," his hushed voice whispers into his ear just then, warm rush of air caressing the side of his face and causing his breath to hitch despite himself. Yes, he wants to say, I was late, he wants to say. So what? But in his disoriented, slightly dizzy state, he only manages a pant, arching his neck.

He frees Lee's wrist in a last attempt to injure him, elbow him, something, but the lock hardly lasts long enough for him to think coherently, let alone breathe, Lee's next step all but lifting him without any strain whatsoever just by solely applying pressure with the weight of his arm against his jaw.

Lifting. him. By his jaw.

That's all it takes to let him drop to the ground apparently, unnecessarily forceful, Junho barely remembering to roll over to mitigate the collision.

Bracing himself on one knee, he in a much needed breath as his hand reaches out to carefully touch his neck. It throbs under his fingertips, tender, just like his flushed face, and Junho, clenching his teeth against the pain, lifts his head to glare at his idiotic partner, who rubs his wrist in all idleness, neither apologetic nor particularly impressed.

Not that he can tell. The guy isn't exactly expressive.

His mouth opens, angry rant on his tongue, but, just then -- a flood of loud clapping, breaking the tense pause and effectively drowning out whatever he was about to say, provoking excited whispering, to which Lee offers a humble bow.

Junho, on the other hand, clenches his jaw and exhales a shaky breath through his nose to keep from punching his teammate, getting to his feet with his head held high and rolling his shoulders as if to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling of defeat.

Damn it.

Dropping me like that. That damn bastard.

"Switch," a voice calls, but Junho ignores it in favor of getting ready once more, neck cracking as he cants it back and forth.

"Ready?"

It wasn't even some fancy trick, but him taking advantage of my height.

"Begin!"

Lee takes on the role of the assailant this time, dark eyes intent on watching his every move as if calculating on how to approach him, but Junho's arch of an eyebrow makes him warily settle for the classic lunge and punch.

Truth be told, it's hard to calculate what your opposite is about to do when everything you see is as though through tunnel vision, hyperaware of your limbs and your every movement.

Real tearjerker there. Junho doesn't pity him at all.

The punch is predictable, swift, undoubtedly strong, but not fast enough to connect by a long shot, proving to be easier to avoid by ducking his head than he anticipated. However, it also proves how easy it is to injure someone and how utterly in the open the assailant is just by extending so much as an arm, chest area in a now vulnerable state.

He moves forward, directly into Lee's personal space while the failed attack makes his tall body falter for the briefest of seconds, and this right here is where his own move comes into action.

Fingers curved inwards and palm bend, he s the ball of his hand upwards in an attempt to come into contact with his partners chin.

A risky technique, force behind it enough to break his jaw if he doesn't react quickly, but Lee is not one to disappoint, Junho knows, jerking his head back as if on cue.

Gotcha.

He saw it coming, was prepared for it, but the shift in his already wobbly balance gives Junho enough time to sweep a foot behind Lee's mainstay and pull it foward with a jerk, pivoting to the right of him and letting gravity pull both of them down as he pushes the side of his body as well as his elbow into his chest.

The impact is hard, a thump upon cheap rubber that elicits a dull, satisfying wheeze out of Lee, leaves them both a little breathless and panting, more bruised than injured, but that's entirely alright with Junho.

First and foremost, what matters is that he managed to give back at least a portion of the pain Lee inflicted upon him prior, and if that, with the many disadvantages he had in the beginning, isn't a difficult feat accomplished, then he doesn't know what is.

Plus, Lee's rapid pants are music to his ears, you don't even realize.

Sweet, sweet music.

In any case, the slap he delivers to Lee's chest as he leans closer is utterly self-indulgent, if not companiable.

On the outside, of course.

"I'll make sure to, honey," he whispers mockingly as another round of applause erupts from behind them, pulling away and all but bouncing to his feet.

He offers him a hand -- they're partners after all, Lee said it himself --, and Lee grips it wordlessly, the arm slung over his chest not going unnoticed.

It's the first time Junho has seen him annoyed, and it's great.

"Alright, that's enough," Officer Kim's voice cuts through the claps, annoyed, and Junho notes belatedly that even Officer Ok joined in, the latter sheepishly tucking his hands behind his back again and throwing his colleague a crooked smile.

Momentarily appeased, but not without squinting at his fellow officer once for good measure, he turns back to the group, clearing his throat.

"That was... interesting, to say the least. Advanced and not entirely suiting, but, ah-- informative?"

He surveys their battered appearances then, a brief up and down that conjures a strangely satisfied nod, as if agreeing with himself and his particular wording.

At least that's what Junho likes to interpret out of it, he's not entirely sure, to be completely honest.

Officer Kim continues to be a complete enigma.

"Moving on. As Mr. Park and Mr. Lee so kindly demonstrated, and Officer Ok mentioned prior, a similar course concerning basic hand-to-hand combat training is offered as additional lessons. However, it is not a mere offer, but mandatory to those who haven't had training of that sort up to this point."

No one dares to object, but it's clearly depicted in their faces once the news soak through that ending up sore and bruised is not necessarily an enjoyable pastime they'd willingly engage in.

It is not.

Enjoyable, that is.

Junho can still feel his jaw twinge and throb unpleasantly, which makes him sneak a look at Lee, who, tank top lifted up to his pecs, is in the process of assessing the damage.

There's no evidence yet to see, but Junho knows from experience that it will take a while to-- unfurl completely.

The pain will be a steady reminder, in any case.

"-- There are a few interesting months ahead of each one of you, I assure you. For today, however, that will be all.

Dismissed."

- - - - -

A/N: God, this took entirely too long -- mostly because of the holidays, cough -- and turned out somewhat wonky and not quite as I wanted it to turn out, which I'm really kind of sorry for.

For anyone wondering what Chansung's move looks like, here is a link.

Edit: There may be a few fleeting mistakes that I didn't manage to correct, because it's almost 6 in the morning, so please bear with me until I tend to them.