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Pronounce "succession." Does it sound to you like... sex session?

This chapter features romance at M rating.

This chapter is available on AdultFanFiction (AFF) as an explicit adult version, NC-17.

Chapter 14: Succession

Hwoarang fiddled with his end of the boarding pass for the umpteenth time, until he caught the futility of that particular exercise and pocketed the paper slip with a "hmph." He wasn't nervous or uncertain, but as he looked at the thoroughly uneventful bed of clouds—again—he found himself missing the futile distraction. He could tell that the passenger in the next seat welcomed the break, though, and he refrained from nabbing the slip back out. Instead, he stuck with the boring sky.

He had thought about this over and over during the week, and it hadn't been to any use. There wasn't anything to think about: he wanted to do this. He wanted it to be a difficult decision, but no matter how much he sought some kind of an inner conflict to conquer, he knew it with certainty: he was going to do this. He was compelled to go.

He had played with the idea of ripping the ticket and getting one himself, to show he didn't need Kazama's money. The idea had stopped sounding like a great display of independence pretty soon and had instead taken a tone of idiocy, since the money was already spent. He didn't know what he was after; the predicted progression of events never got past him landing in Japan and them being in the same city as Kazama. He didn't even have a vision of them meeting.

The signal went off—the landing procedures had started. He would know the follow-up soon enough.

It wasn't Jin he found in the lounge—it was a uniformed driver holding up a swell sign:

Hwoarang
화랑
花郎

Thoughtful, Hwoarang thought as he went to introduce himself. Minutes later, he found himself being chauffeured on the wrong side of the road and addressed with a nifty new name, Hwoarang-san. Destination: Kazama Jin's residence. He had to admit a grudging respect for Jin having learned to exploit the company resources so quickly. He was also secretly glad he had dressed up a little: picked a nicer outfit in darker tones and left the more ornamental jeans at home. Found something suitable to keep his hair in place. The driver beat him at formal dress, but at least he didn't stand out so badly.

It wasn't until they arrived at the destination that the visit became real. They pulled up by the high-rise, and the driver was prepared to escort him inside, when Hwoarang called a halt. "Listen, I'll take care of something first. Just tell me where to go, and I'll see to myself . . . fine, thanks. You can tell your boss I'll be right up."

He couldn't afford to care what the driver thought of his sudden backing out; he picked his duffel and took off with a nod.

It wasn't like he had stage fright, but he suddenly felt like having some air around him, instead of being hauled in front of Kazama like for the show. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the ease of this, but he needed space.

He didn't go far; a small park area of grass and deciduous flora was located opposite of the building. He found a bench and took a seat. He noticed as the driver came out and started off—out to celebrate a Saturday, to hazard a guess. He breathed in the air and tried to clear his head. He wasn't looking for answers or guidance on the next step of going in and facing Jin. This was a breather—no great drama involved. This was his chance to think this through, in case something innovative came to mind.

He didn't even realize that the time had passed. Hwoarang stirred to reality and finally picked himself up, along with the bag, and headed in.

Jin opened the door, and disappeared out of sight silently as a phantom. Hwoarang was barely even sure it was him when he mostly saw a receding back and the shining black hair, but he shrugged it off and took his time to put his shoes and bag out of the way and straighten his back. Then, he ventured in.

Nice place. He hadn't known what to expect, but it was definitely a nice place. Not a studio, despite being compact, but it looked like it had all the right rooms, starting from the lounge. Sleek and sparse, clean, not overly decorated or unbearably small. The lighting was dim. Jin himself was through hiding, too: he sagged on a sofa. At his arrival, Jin looked at him sidelong. His hair hid his eyes, which didn't rise very high.

Hwoarang halted by the door.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come."

Jin sounded sad and downcast. A little hoarse, his tone cut at Hwoarang's heart. He shouldn't have taken so long outside, pretending he was making his mind up about something. A crippling doubt set in. "...That guy did tell you I was coming, didn't he?"

Jin nodded, and his head sunk further. "I thought that maybe—" he breathed audibly "—you changed your mind."

"No, I didn't," Hwoarang said, and damned if he didn't feel guilty.

Jin nodded to himself and rose. He visibly composed himself and then faced Hwoarang. At a distance, Hwoarang suddenly realized the truth: Jin had been crying.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. Hwoarang's throat tightened. He took a step forward and opened his arms. "Come on."

Jin froze, but Hwoarang held his arms wide. Jin approached him cautiously, at length, but Hwoarang shook his head distractedly and beckoned to him. As soon as Jin was within his reach, he engulfed Jin within his arms. After the initial disbelief, Jin held him onto even tighter.

Jin was warm and whole. He smelled good. Jin felt so good, and Jin felt right. This was them—this was what they were supposed to be. He snuggled to Jin firmly, and rested his chin on his shoulder.

"You sorry bastard," Hwoarang said, but he wasn't angry.

"Don't call me that." Jin's voice was teary.

"I won't," Hwoarang promised in a murmur and hugged the back of Jin's neck tightly against himself. Jin shouldn't cry. He didn't want Jin to cry. Not on his account—not ever. He was going to lose it, too, if Kazama kept it up. He hugged onto Jin tighter. Don't do this, baby.

They didn't need to worry about etiquette; their embrace was a close one. It was just the two of them, which meant that they could touch each other any damn way they pleased.

They eventually pried apart, and Hwoarang forced them to look each other in the eyes, even though he would have been more comfortable showing his eyes at another time, and Jin sure as hell would have. No more lies between them. He wasn't sure if Jin wanted to kiss, but he touched Jin's chest, and Jin didn't follow through. They shouldn't rush into any kissing stuff. They should try to figure each other out; make sense of things.

Whatever Jin's thoughts, he settled for the verdict. He blinked a little and cleared his throat. "Are you hungry?"

Hwoarang cracked a grin, though he surmised it didn't look that great below the red-rimmed eyes. "Famished."

"You don't make food much, do you?" Hwoarang said and scraped his bowl empty of the last crumbs.

Jin freed himself from meditating on the dirty dishes. "That bad?" he asked, startled.

Hwoarang faced him blankly. Then, he cracked a grin. "Just teasing," he said slyly.

Jin was disbelieving.

"I'm messing with ya. It was good."

Jin turned back to the offensive sink, hanging his head a little, scarcely suppressing a pleased look while looking adorably self-conscious at the same time. Hwoarang laughed silently, as Jin's admonishing glance failed to have an effect.

It was just like that throughout the evening: laid-back and comfortable. The uncertainty didn't start until it was time to go to bed. Not that Hwoarang hadn't thought about it, but the question was tangible—and imminently topical—as finished a light wash and ventured into the bedroom.

Jin had obviously been thinking about it, too. He was carefully avoidant. "I wasn't sure what you'd want to do. I can make a bed for myself in the other room."

Hwoarang scouted the room, but he wasn't about to idle on the cupboards or the walls. It was the double bed that drew his notice entirely. "No, same bed."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Hwoarang said. He felt good about this. "Which side is yours?"

"Either. Pick which you like."

Hwoarang claimed the right side with a proprietary air and went to spread the towel airily. He idled about a little, but then pulled and fluffed a pillow for himself and couldn't really think of anything else to do than duck under the covers and settle in.

Jin soon made to accompany him, impressive as ever in dark sweats—no shirt—but he remained on top of the covers. Glances were exchanged vacillatingly. They hemmed and hawed until Jin took the initiative. He crouched to Hwoarang, who rose sitting and pulled the pillows behind his back. On all fours, Jin snuck close and slowly leaned in for a kiss. He noticed Hwoarang's reluctance and altered his course: he landed kissing his neck.

Hwoarang wasn't against the kissing stuff as such; he just wasn't sure if they should be jumping at it straight away. He didn't react one way or the other; he didn't shake Jin off because his overtures weren't appreciated—they were appreciated—but he didn't initiate any himself because he couldn't be sure. He sat passively as Jin moved around his neck with care, kissing around the collarbone and anywhere he could find bare skin. He didn't resist when Jin pried his shirt apart and felt up his stomach. The response was visceral, but he crooned a little.

He let Jin roll up his shirt and pull it aside. Hwoarang soon realized Jin had barely started: with more of him exposed, Jin ventured to straddle him loosely and lunged to cherish his chest. The kisses were dallied across his chest hungrily, and they sent tingles of shivering to his brain. He could only take in the shining black locks and the clean scent, and found both very pleasurable. He reached a hand to brush against Jin to thank him, but Jin was too absorbed in his quest, and Hwoarang dropped his hand.

With Hwoarang's chest worked on hurriedly, Jin seemed to calm down. He paid a loving kiss on each side of his chest, but then proceeded to crawl down. His position couldn't have been comfortable, but he placed a diligent path of kisses along Hwoarang's washboard stomach. Apprehension settled only when Hwoarang realized Jin wasn't stopping.

Jin pried his mouth under the waistband, down south, and Hwoarang fidgeted. He wanted to call out Jin's name, but he was paralyzed. Jin stopped in his tracks and looked at him straight in the eye, all invitation and sex drive. The eyes were dark and daring, and yet, he was asking for permission.

"You don't have to do that," Hwoarang said hoarsely.

"I want to."

Jin moved a little further, still on all fours, and then settled fully on worshipping his midriff with caring pecks. This time, as he proceeded and ducked between Hwoarang's legs, he pulled the waistband down before his lips. More was exposed, until all was exposed. Hwoarang knew what was coming, but still he couldn't help it: as Jin took the tip of his penis between his lips, he promptly kicked Jin on the side.

"Hmph."

"Sorry, sorry!" Hwoarang shifted on his backside and dug his heels into the mattress. Jin gave him a preoccupied smile of sorts before lifting his shaft up and placing a kiss underneath it, still with a smile on his face. Then, Jin opened his mouth and engulfed him.

It was unsanitary; he would have washed it better if he had known... He should have said no, except it was too damn nice. Hwoarang gulped and licked his lips; he craned his head and didn't know which way to look. He ventured a peek but had to stop and forcibly keep himself from whinnying out loud, pleased. He could only take what was happening. He sat back and tried to wrap his head around the enormity of the fact that Jin Kazama was gently fellating him.

The heat began to descend from his face and trickle down. It passed his stomach with a tingly feel and rushed down into his thighs and culminated in-between. Jin was still working his length, somewhere between careful tugs, licks, and sucks. He was painfully hard, aroused-excited-embarrassed, and not far.

The heat scorched him with a flare. He barely had time to push Jin's head aside before the peak hit and sent his body vibrating. Jin fell on his legs, with a hand still warming his length, a slightly accusing look on his face. Yet, Jin took in his rapture with a collected look, all the while holding onto his length, still giving it light, periodic squeezes, looking at the pearly spread on his hands with a mix of dubiety and restrained satisfaction.

Hwoarang returned to the world after the most intense, blank-out-inducing orgasm he had had. All the anger and disappointment and anxiety had come together and blown his mind. It should have drained him, but instead of leaving him in a lazed state of daze, his senses had sharpened up with a warp. Jin had crawled to sit next to him, throwing uncertain looks to his feet, and he sensed Jin with uncanny acuteness. Without even bothering to tug himself in, he grabbed Jin by the shoulders and pinned him down on the mattress.

Jin's alarm cleared his head in an instant. No, what was he doing? Not like this. Never like this. Hwoarang willed his head straight and released Jin's shoulders like they burned, bracing himself against the mattress instead. Jin was still pinned down beneath him, but no longer trapped, and if he didn't want to stay there willingly, he would only have to rise. Hwoarang brushed a hand against Jin, surprising them both with his tenderness. He managed a smile, though the natural instinct was to give a mix of grin and smirk. Jin returned the smile shyly. Hwoarang rubbed at Jin's lips, indicating that they could have been a little cleaner, and then buried the prissy instinct and kissed Jin. To think what Jin had done without them even kissing was unbelievable.

He was met enthusiastically. Jin pulled him in with the kiss and bucked up quite innocently, squeezing him deliciously in the process. Hwoarang took an embarrassed second to make himself decent again, and then dove back to the kissing. He lay on top of Jin, who welcomed his body heat to mingle with his own, and motioned his mouth to fit over Jin's lips. Jin welcomed his mouth and accepted him in, and Hwoarang explored his mouth gently with his tongue. He had the heart to pry apart only when they had to come up for air, and a breath of air was all he could take before diving back. Though enthusiastic and lusty, he eventually had the heart to call a break and drop on the mattress. Jin turned automatically, and Hwoarang readily spooned him. He felt how their chests rose, slightly breathless and moist, and wiggled closer.

"I've been studying this... I think we did it wrong the first time," Hwoarang murmured in a low voice, savoring the feel of Jin against him. "Want to try it again?" You don't have to.

Jin turned in his arms like a cogwheel and settled onto his back. "Yeah..."

"Yeah?" Hwoarang hated how hopeful he sounded, but at the same time, he held his breath for an answer. He didn't want Jin to do it just to please him, even if he wanted nothing more.

"Uh-huh." Jin ventured to look at him almost timidly, while Hwoarang could only lean over and settle their concurrence with a kiss.

It started a whole new ballgame; the fooling around and the kissing stuff suddenly changed into something more serious, more mature. They both felt the change and were charged with new vitality to couple with the want that hadn't flagged in the least.

His erection still hadn't waned. He couldn't expect the same of Jin, though, and he smuggled himself to sit on Jin loosely and snuggled a palm to feel around his front. He found the luscious curve. It pleased him, and he felt it through Jin's pants, flattered that Jin wasn't at all averse to what they had just agreed on; he was quite up for it. Hwoarang felt Jin's length through his pants, and going by how Jin panted or sucked in the middle of the kiss, Jin wasn't indifferent to his efforts.

Hwoarang picked himself up on all fours, giving Jin a chance to rise up on his elbows. Jin found himself in the exact same position as Hwoarang earlier—only now their positions had been reversed. He upped the stakes by gently prying between Jin's legs and leaned over for a kiss or few. His courtly modesty was quickly foiled, as Jin was determinedly depantsing him.

He felt the fingers touch his hips breezily and then his pants and underwear were pulled down and his erection bobbed free. He would have felt awkward at the quick exposure, except for the devoted hunger on Jin's face, which sparked even a flair of rivalry: he wasn't going to be second in who was more turned on. He knocked Jin down, even though the man was most reluctant to comply, and went to tug back Jin's waistband, mindful to give attention to Jin's length, which distended through his pants with a shining dark profile. With a kiss on Jin's lower abdomen, simultaneously feeling a feathery brush to his shoulder and reluctantly relinquishing his clothed hold, he unearthed Jin. Hwoarang gathered all the rag-tag clothes discarded on the bed, mashed them into a ball, and threw them out of the way from being an annoyance.

"On the floor, next to the bed," Jin said suddenly.

Hwoarang looked over the bed curiously and nearly fell over, trying to see better. He scrambled on his hands and felt Jin grab his legs to stop him from toppling over, and even then, stark naked and sprawled across Jin, he could see some humor in his present stance. He thought he heard a stifled sound, which didn't help his mirth one bit. Laughing, despite it all, he scooped a hand around the floor and landed it on a pile of wraps and a flask. He scooped the materials in his hand and scrambled up.

"Aw."

Hwoarang shot Jin a reproachful look. "Don't you start."

Jin merely looked back with polite interest, but even he couldn't help with twitch of his lips when Hwoarang reached to brush at his inner thigh, not-so-accidentally brushing his fingertips on his package as well, with the same knowing smirk on his face. Then Hwoarang quickly assessed the loot: rubbers and something to smooth the glide. He pushed them to wait on the sheets next to them.

"Right you are," he said and smacked Jin's thighs. "Up, baby."

"Hm?" Jin raised himself anyway and lifted up into a better position.

"I think you should be on your knees."

Jin looked uneasy.

"Just until I get it in."

Jin hesitated, but he did fulfill his wish eventually and scramble up on all fours. Hwoarang saw how Jin psyched up, but the hesitation didn't die: Jin threw a worried look back.

"Trust me. Please?" Hwoarang rubbed at Jin's thigh appealingly.

Jin looked blue, but he couldn't refuse such a request. He nodded and faced the headboard.

He could understand Jin's unease: it seemed very animalistic and, to Jin, probably like he wasn't appreciated very much, when the opposite was the true. Hwoarang wavered a little, but he chose not to break the moment and settled on petting Jin's buttock comfortingly. He picked one of the foils... and hesitated. Did they really need these things? He did consider asking how Jin felt about it, but Jin had already gotten the things. He proceeded to open the foil and don one with care. He was glad his shaft had proven immune against delays, and he patted it in thanks.

Hwoarang picked up the bottle and uncapped the cork, delighting in passing in the pleasant whiff of the smell it gave. The cool tingled on the tips of his fingers. "I'll work you a little?" It would have been so much more comfortable to have Jin read his mind rather than have to ask. He made a mental note to perfect their telepathy.

"If it's the same to you, just do it. Slowly."

The same to him? More like a mouth-watering fantasy come true. Hwoarang kissed Jin's lower back fiercely, and felt Jin relax in turn, even if only by a margin. Gently, he parted Jin's legs for more room and caressed his inner thighs. Hwoarang took a moment to coat the tip of his erection and dab some wetness onto Jin, without indulging in additional finger play. He leaned over to kiss along Jin's spine, even finishing with quick pecks below the waistline. Then he grabbed his erection, gave it a few hearty strokes to keep it in the game, and inched closer. "All right... let's do it."

"How is it?"

"It doesn't hurt." Jin sounded surprised himself... and joyful.

The hurry died; he was doing it right.

Hwoarang murmured, "Good." Their conjoined pace stilled for a moment as he fit Jin tightly against his chest. Side by side, their bodies formed into a lazy S. Hwoarang rose carefully and leaned over to capture Jin's mouth. Jin, though clearly still amazed by the flexibility their new position allowed, reciprocated more than enthusiastically. When Hwoarang finally had the heart to resume, Jin was virtually sighing. Hwoarang, in turn, smiled into Jin's hair and finally found the skill to give Jin's length some much needed attention, in harmony with his own movements.

He remembered all too well how the last time had ended. But this time, as the peak hit, he had never felt so awake. There was no gray; the high tide was bright and shining instead. Hwoarang hugged Jin close to his chest and breathed into his neck, kissing it. He even laughed to himself when the satisfaction plateaued. He then moved to disentangle himself, attentive of Jin's comfort, relishing the heave of Jin's chest as they finally came apart, though he couldn't help pressing up close, on the wane or not. As his own breathing calmed down, he moved his hand and stroked Jin to perfection.

There was some fumbling and tumbling before they could settle down. Getting up, running into each other. Feeling giddy and dizzy and endlessly elated. They eventually managed to call it a night, and Hwoarang spooned Jin.

Jin fell asleep quickly enough; Hwoarang remained awake a little longer, even though he was just as tired. Listening to the even breathing, he snuggled to Jin a little tighter and reveled in the feeling that the world was perfect.

Vast thanks to Gypsie for the proofreading!

Published July 17, 2010.