A/N: Another extra-long chapter for you guys, and just a forewarning, this one's a definite M rated chapter. You can't say I didn't tell you. ;) Let me know what you think, it's my first ever sex scene, so I'd love feedback on it.

Chapter 11: Release


Xiaoyu must have stood outside his apartment door for over five minutes before she got the courage to knock. She closed her eyes, hoping to God that he was out, or sleeping, and he wouldn't answer and then she could go back home, apologise to Julia, scowl at Jin, lock herself in the kitchen and eat her body weight in ice cream. But after a few tense moments, she heard movement, then the key turning in the lock, and the door opened. Hwoarang, as usual, looked sexy in a 'no I don't own a hairbrush' kind of way, and Xiaoyu mentally smacked herself for noticing.

"What do you want?" he asked, blinking.

"Oh, that's really nice of you." Xiaoyu glared. "I'm here to get Julia's folder. Where is it?"

"What?"

"Julia's. Folder." Xiaoyu said slowly, clearly, as though she were talking to a little kid. "Do you have it?"

"How should I know?"

"Well, can you go look?" She forced herself to sound civil. "Please?"

Hwoarang rolled his eyes.

"You go look if it's so important. I'm busy."

"Doing what?" she cried. Like she needed any more reasons to be irritated today. He arched an eyebrow.

"Like it's any of your business." He turned, walking back into the apartment and lounging on the sofa. "But since you asked so nicely, you're interrupting my sitting-around-doing-nothing time."

"I'm so sorry."

Xiaoyu stood in the doorway for a few moments, praying that he'd decide to just get the stupid folder so she didn't have to go inside. He flicked the television on and started channel surfing.

"Do you at least know where it might be?"

"Ask her."

"I don't have my phone." she said through her teeth. "Can I use yours?"

"No credit."

"Well, I guess I'll just have to go through all your stuff, won't I?" she said, saccharine sweet, and stepped into the kitchen.

"Guess you will." Hwoarang didn't look away from the television. Xiaoyu seethed. Why was he being so damned difficult? All he had to do was just help her find the binder and then she'd be done, and she'd get to go home and sulk. Instead, she was saddled with the task of finding what she wanted all by herself, with no clue where to start. She stuck her middle finger up at him. He dropped the remote on the sofa next to him and returned the gesture, eyes still fixed on the TV, and despite herself, she laughed a little.

"Please, Hwoarang. Give me a hint, here. I've got better things to do too, you know."

"Alright. I think it was in the bedroom when I saw it last."

Bedroom? She cast him a suspicious glance, but he still hadn't looked away from the TV. Crossing the room, Xiaoyu stopped at the open bedroom door, turning to look at him again. He wasn't watching her. Maybe the folder really was in there. She stood for a moment, considering, then sighed, walking into the room. If he followed her she could always punch him, after all.

Surprisingly, it was pretty tidy. The bed was unmade and there was a ton of laundry piled up in a corner, but she wasn't really one to comment on that. Jin was always saying that she should make more of an effort to keep things neat since she was at home all day. On the floor, sticking out of a pile of magazines, was a red binder with a half visible label reading 'ments'. Xiaoyu knelt down and wrenched it out to take a closer look. Yep, 'assignments' was written in small, neat handwriting. Done.

Well, that wasn't so bad. She'd spent the entire taxi ride here with her heart in her mouth, and now she felt like she was worried over nothing. Yes, Hwoarang had been an asshole about telling her where the folder was, but as far as she could gather, that was typical. She didn't know how the hell Julia managed to put up with him. That woman must have the patience of a saint.

Straightening up, she hugged the folder to her chest and strode out of the bedroom. All she needed to do now was get out, thank all that was holy. Hwoarang had moved from the sofa and was now leaning against the countertop in the kitchen, watching her.

"Found it, then?" he asked, and there was that look again, and that 'I could be screwing you right now' smile that he seemed to have down to an art, and that always did weird things to her stomach. Xiaoyu clutched the folder tighter, biting her lip. She'd made a mistake. She'd let her guard down and held eye contact, and now she couldn't look away. Her breath quickened, and a faint tingling began to build up inside her.

Great. Just what she needed right now. The door seemed so far away all of a sudden.

"Yeah." she said, hearing the tremor in her voice and cringing. Now he'd know that he was having an effect on her. "So I'm going." Decisive. At least, it was supposed to sound that way. It ended up coming out in barely more than a whisper.

Stop it.

She longed to kiss him, but she didn't trust herself to know when to stop.

You hate him, remember?

Suddenly she was so much more aware of everything. Of the feel of her clothes against her skin, of how the breeze blowing through an open window kept catching her hair. Hwoarang seemed to be completely calm, but the way he was looking at her...

Xiaoyu, leave. She told herself sternly. Move.

She dug her nails into the binder unconsciously, fashioning her expression as best she could into an impassive mask and taking a step backwards. Jin. She wouldn't allow herself to let anything happen again.

But he'll never know…

"I'm done here." She bit out. "I'm going."

He smiled. She didn't move.

"You said that already."

"This is the only folder she brought, right?"

Why was she prolonging the conversation? If it was the wrong folder, Julia would just have to come and get it herself. She was leaving. Right now. And hopefully she'd never have to come here again.

"I think so."

"Okay. Good. Okay." Xiaoyu turned and pulled the door handle. It didn't budge. Anger igniting inside her, she whirled around, glowering at Hwoarang.

"Why is it locked, you asshole?"

"It isn't locked."

"Yes it is!" she almost screamed, taking a few steps towards him and then thinking better of it.

He pushed away from the counter and strode towards her, trying to keep the smirk from his face as she backed away, one step, three steps, until her back touched the door and she couldn't go any further. Her eyes widened as it dawned on her that she was trapped – and that her heart was pounding with excitement at the idea. Hwoarang's hand pressed against the door just next to her shoulder to slide the bolt free with his thumb, and she didn't, couldn't resist when he lowered his mouth to hers.

Just this one kiss.

Her eyes slid closed, and she melted against him, feeling his hand brush through her hair to curve around the back of her head, keeping her there. He didn't need to. She couldn't stop herself opening her mouth slightly to the kiss, and gave a small sigh as she felt the tip of his tongue gently run over her lower lip.

No one has to find out.

Her hand came up to grip his shirt as his tongue found hers, teasing, exploring. Fingers curled in fabric, and she found herself moaning softly in protest as he pulled away.

"You wanted to leave, right?" he asked her, eyes fixed on her lips, still damp from their kiss. Xiaoyu nodded, she didn't trust herself to speak. Just one kiss, she'd told herself. It was over, now she was going.

"It's open now. Sorry about the bolt, it's habit."

She had to go. She couldn't stay. If she did, she didn't know what she'd end up letting him do to her. But that kiss...

Just like when he'd kissed her before, he'd sent her mind reeling, made her feel as though she'd been electrocuted, all her nerves tingling, and her body had reacted of its own accord. She could feel a faint twinge in the pit of her stomach, an ache between her thighs. No one, not even Jin, had ever made her feel like that just by kissing her. He had hardly touched her, so why...?

"Thanks." It was a whisper, her voice wouldn't cooperate enough to allow for anything else. Hwoarang's eyes never left hers.

"Unless you want to stay…"

Xiaoyu clutched Julia's folder to her chest and narrowed her eyes.

I can't.

She swallowed hard, sucked in a breath.

"I'm going."

Fumbled for the doorhandle. Hwoarang moved backwards to give her space.

But... do I really want to go home?

Xiaoyu let her hand drop from the handle, let the folder slip from her grasp, found herself reaching for him again, desperate for the feel of his mouth on hers. It was only a kiss, she told herself. It didn't mean anything. But it had been so long since she'd been kissed that way. Jin was usually kissed her forehead these days, like she was a child, or he kissed her softly, cautiously. She craved more of Hwoarang's knowing kisses and even though she was dimly aware what she was risking, she needed more. Their tongues teased gently, and she lost herself in the heat of the kiss, pressing herself against him.

No. Now just the feel of his mouth wasn't enough. She needed him on her, inside her, needed it so much that it was almost painful. It wouldn't happen, she was sure of it. One of them would stop things going too far. She just needed to experience that passion, that feeling that anything could happen if she let it, if only for a little while. Hwoarang dragged his lips from her mouth and trailed them down her neck, and she closed her eyes, blocking out everything but the warmth of his mouth and his body. He slowly guided her away from the door.

As long as it's just a kiss, Xiaoyu told herself dizzily as he moved back to claim her lips once more. Her hands itched to reach for his belt, to wander under his t-shirt, but she fought hard to restrain herself. She'd already betrayed Jin by kissing someone else; she couldn't let this go any further. But his body felt so good against hers. One hand slowly pushed the strap of her cami from her shoulder, running down the length of her arm and back up, and Xiaoyu couldn't fight against her need any more. Thoughts of Jin dissolved from her mind, and she groaned, deepening the kiss, exploring the heat of his mouth with her tongue. Hwoarang's hand worked the buttons of her top free, and she let it slip down her arms, feeling a pleasant shiver run through her as her bra went the same way. His hands lightly caressed her bare breasts as she kissed him desperately, clumsy fingers fumbling the buckle of his belt.

This is wrong, Xiao.

She dragged his zip down, and he pulled his lips from hers, lifting her onto the kitchen counter. The tiles were cold against her back, and she shuddered as his hand slipped under her skirt, slowly making its way up to her thigh, higher, higher until he touched the fabric of her underwear.

This can't happen.

And it was soon being pulled down her legs and discarded, the same way her other clothing had been. She couldn't deny it any longer. She knew she couldn't stop it, nor did she want to. Her fingers crept under Hwoarang's shirt to skate over his taut stomach, desperate to touch his bare skin, and she heard him suck in a breath as her hands slipped lower, stroking him with the lightest of caresses. He pulled her forward for a searing kiss, letting his hand wander higher from its place on her knee to dip between her thighs. She arched into his touch with an incoherent moan, her hands now clutching the edge of the countertop in an attempt to stop herself from toppling into his arms.

No one has to know. It won't happen again. I just need this. Just once. I know it's wrong… but no one has to find out.

Then he was inside her, and through the warm haziness of passion, nothing mattered any more, not Jin, not Julia, nothing but the sensations she was feeling, the knot of pleasure that she could feel already starting to form within, building and building with each movement of their bodies. It had been far too long since she'd been together with someone like this, and words spilled out of her mouth of their own accord, not really making sense, but it didn't matter.

"That's it, oh God, you feel..."

Jin's smile.

"D-don't stop."

That tone of voice he used when she went too far.

Just... like... that...

His excuses...

There.

His rejection.

Fuck me.

She didn't know how long they moved together like this, didn't care. All she cared about was how good he felt inside her, how her toes were curling and her legs were starting to shake, how she didn't feel empty any more. Somewhere through her ecstasy she became aware of his movements becoming less and less rhythmic, his body shuddering, his breathing short. So he slowed until he was just gently rocking against her.

"Not yet." He said through his teeth. Heat flowed through her, then coiled inside, impatient for release, and the harsh gasps she hadn't been able to slow turned into breathy sighs, her whole body trembling now, her heart pounding.

Every gentle thrust pushed her that little bit higher, that little bit closer, not fast enough, but not too slow. She gave a soft groan, part pleasure, part frustration, and somewhere along the line, she heard herself say it; Fuck me, even though it was a word she never used, because nothing mattered any more and she needed him, and for the first time in months she felt like someone wanted her, needed her, needed to be inside her, and she felt dazed and giddy, overwhelmed by the sensations pulsing through her. Her legs wound around him tightly, trying to pull him even deeper inside her, and Hwoarang responded just how she'd hoped he would, stroking into her faster, not too much, just enough to make her shudder and draw more of those delicious moans from her.

"Please..." she breathed. He held onto the last thread of control desperately, but then Xiaoyu let her head fall back a little, words forming on her lips but not sounding. The sight of her, so vulnerable, so far gone, was all it took for him to lose it. He grabbed her hips tightly, thrusting hard into her, again, again, fire surging and growing within them both until at last she gave a choked groan and clutched handfuls of his t-shirt, gritting her teeth to keep from crying out. She couldn't prevent the low, long moan of pleasure escaping her throat as his last stroke into her finally pushed her over the edge, everything but that dazzling sensation of ecstasy falling away. Xiaoyu hardly noticed when he followed soon after, and though she was faintly aware of him collapsing against her, of wrapping her arms around him, she'd lost herself to the feeling as it rushed over her, through her, fingers to toes, and it was just as intense as she'd needed it to be.

A short while after they'd disentangled themselves, as she was buttoning up her top, her knees still a tad weak, reveling in the afterglow that still warmed her inside and out, and not yet thinking about the consequences of what had just happened, Xiaoyu heard a phone start ringing. Hwoarang zipped his jeans, turning and picking up his mobile from the table and flipping it open.

"Hey Jules." He greeted casually. "Huh? Xiaoyu?" He grinned. "Yeah. She just came."