Unpredictable Impulses, Chapter 6
Based on T3, Hwoarang's ending: He's tired of fighting. He's tired of being alone. He's even tired of college! Jin picks up Hwoarang's tab in a bar, with some interesting results. Yaoi: m/m relationship (Jin X Hwoarang). R for language misuse, implied illegal action, & explicit sex in a later chapter.
Author's Note: I've never played any other Tekken game but T3, so I'm going to pretend that none of the others exist anymore. And Hwoarang did not join any stupid army! *snorts at the absurdity of the idea* That would really ruin my story.
Author's Note 2: I don't own Tekken or its characters, so don't sue me, but I can damn well ignore the parts of both that I don't like since I'm not even writing this for profit! *crosses eyes and sticks tongue out*
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Author's Note 3: All right... you guys have been getting spoiled, since this is the first part of the semester for me and I haven't had much homework to speak of... just to warn you all that my frequent updating as I have been can't last forever. Now, for instance, I am going camping for the weekend. So this is the last chapter you are getting for a little while... ^_~
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As the doorknob rattled Tora leaped up again with a happy chirp, dashing to get the door. She was met with an outthrust brown paper sack and a gruff voice, which was smothered for a moment as she hugged Jin roughly. "These should be put on ice immediately. Please attend to them." Jin nodded at Hwoarang, running his eyes over hiss choice of dress almost unconsciously, and refusing offers of help as he packed his own armful of sacks to the kitchen. "What were you two talking about?"
"You," the redhead volunteered. His dark eyes latched onto his former rival's with curious magnetism for several moments before either could look away. Hwoarang's voice became almost subdued as he clarified. "We were talking about *that night*…" Jin nodded as though to himself and took a deep breath. He let it all out in a poof of air as Tora poked him sharply, shaking her head. She mouthed that she was going to see to a bit of gardening (the night-blooming flowers seemed to fare better with special care). Hwoarang stepped to the giant window and stared, entranced, at the city lights shining in the growing darkness. "Jin- just how late did you let me sleep, anyway?"
The man grinned sheepishly. "Until about four in the afternoon, why? Does night fall too quickly for your liking?"
"Not at all. It's just that I couldn't remember seeing the sunset today." Quiet filled the room, almost uncomfortable, until Hwoarang took a seat at the table.
Jin felt compelled to talk. "So Hwoarang. Have you ever been to a mobile dance club?"
"Oh- not recently. I haven't been able to find any, since all my old acquaintances have moved out of town and that was the only way I could get in to one anyhow. Why do you ask?"
Jin went to the refrigerator and opened a can of Mountain Dew before responding. "I want to take you as my guest to tonight's party downtown, the 'Dirty Laundry' gathering. There's going to be some pretty important people there, not to mention a few of the prominent local bands. The whole event is supposed to be pretty incredible." There was a pause as he ran his eyes over the redhead's outfit again before smiling slightly. "You're wearing one of my favorite outfits."
"Uh, well, it was comfortable." If Jin had looked a little closer over the top of his soda can he would've seen an unsteady warmth rising to Hwoarang's cheeks. "And you said…"
"Oh, I'm not upset or anything. Just sort of surprised." Jin emptied the contents of his can and tossed it in the recycling bin. He decided to take a seat as well, with the pretense of sorting through the stack of mail on the table. "Our tastes are apparently more similar than I thought," he mused.
"Uh-huh." Hwoarang looked down at his fingers. He had started thinking about Tora's glib riddling and couldn't get it out of his mind that he had felt sort of incomplete (thus his drinking habits, though he couldn't get himself addicted- he'd certainly tried hard enough) since the last time he'd parted with Jin. *What does that mean? I knew I didn't hate him since our first encounter at the Tournament, but it was easy to forget that in the heat of a good fight… I just couldn't win. Couldn't push myself that extra bit and make myself really hurt him. I didn't hate him but I didn't exactly run up and hug him before our fights.* He tried to ignore the echo of his own voice from his private nightmare, where Jin put himself in seemingly real danger on his behalf. *It can't be simple friendship; or maybe I'm only leading myself to believe it's something more... It was just a dream.* At that moment Hwoarang became aware of a pair of worried, golden-brown eyes close to his. The smell of cinnamon and musk came from somewhere and added to his disorientation. He focused on listening to what Jin was saying but couldn't quite understand his words.
"Hwoarang- come on, don't pass out- if you're that tired you can go back to sleep. We don't have to go to the concert tonight. Hwoarang-" Jin realized that the Korean was getting pale. His skin was clammy. "Are you feeling okay?" He felt stupid for having to ask. His slanted eyes latched onto Hwoarang's.
The look in his host's face roused him; Hwoarang sat up carefully. He felt cold sweat running down his face. An indescribable fear gripped him as hard as he was gripping Jin's forearm, and it was shining out from his haunted eyes. "I'll… I'll be fine. I have these things sometimes, it's nothing-" he began, but Jin didn't look convinced. Hwoarang closed his eyes and shivered. *It was just a dream,* he reminded himself.
"You really ought to see a doctor or something…" The spiky-headed man realized with a pang that he wasn't very good at being authorative. *Perhaps you need practice,* a soft voice echoed in his head. He snarled silently at it. *Go ahead. Ask him if he wants to play doctor.* Impossibly dark eyes opened again and met his, or maybe looked through them into his skull. He couldn't tell the difference. "Would you let me take you-"
"I don't think I'm ready for that," Hwoarang interrupted. His shoulders went a little slack.
Jin took in what he'd said and opened his mouth a little in surprise. He licked his lips nervously. The thought came unbidden that since Hwoarang had taken his words to mean *that*, it just told him that either he had been right about his thoughts about the Korean, or that Hwoarang really was out of it. The spike-haired man was inclined to think that he was just out of it. *Maybe I could get rid of that dirty energy he's got cooped up. It couldn't hurt to try.*Jin bowed his head slightly, pressing a thumb to each of Hwoarang's inner wrists, tracing the veins there. He closed his eyes and concentrated. The process he wanted to use was simple- drawing the negative energy from the redhead's body and attempting to open the channels that would let in more of the clean energy he had to spare- but something stopped him momentarily, a resistant barrier of sorts. He began humming quietly in a monotone, lulling Hwoarang into more complete stillness, and began again.
He visualized his own energy, white light, flowing from his thumb-tips into Hwoarang's 'veins', felt it begin pulsating slowly. With each beat it became a little cloudier until its shade was something close to murky beige. He sent out a fresh wash of purity into Hwoarang and forced the dirty energy out through the redhead's bare toes, then cycled the new energy through the same path. When his patient burst from the trance he'd been using to reinforce the faint- or whatever it had been- Jin exhaled sharply. Hwoarang's eyes were wide, full of terror and pain, but unseeing. "Don't take him from me!" he whispered. "Don't take him away!" The Korean's fingers twitched, then he slumped again. The little whimpers Hwoarang made as the dark energy was forcibly removed from him, bereft sounds like the gasps of a dreaming child, were certainly cause for concern.
"Why have you neglected your well-being?" Jin whispered aloud, troubled. He intended on taking the tired man back to bed for a rest. He stilled his thumbs' almost instinctive caressing when slender fingers grasped his hand weakly. He looked down into half-open, shadowed eyes and felt as though he were falling into a dark well. The corners of Hwoarang's lips, so dangerously close to his, lifted slightly in a smile, and the eyes slipped shut again. Jin shook his head slowly, not quite understanding why his guest was having such an effortless affect on him.
"He's out again?" Tora's voice came from the doorway. She sounded as though she was trying to be neutral but it was impossible, as usual.
Jin nodded pensively. "I tried to do a cleansing, but he woke partially from the trance and told me (or someone) 'don't take him from me'. I can guess some of what he was talking about, but I don't know for sure. I will have to ask him when he becomes coherent again."
"And the party?" she asked softly. She knew that Jin would stay home with his guest if he thought it necessary.
"It will have to wait until I've gotten some answers. I'm… worried." With that revelation, Jin picked the Korean up and carried him back toward the sole bedroom in the apartment.
Based on T3, Hwoarang's ending: He's tired of fighting. He's tired of being alone. He's even tired of college! Jin picks up Hwoarang's tab in a bar, with some interesting results. Yaoi: m/m relationship (Jin X Hwoarang). R for language misuse, implied illegal action, & explicit sex in a later chapter.
Author's Note: I've never played any other Tekken game but T3, so I'm going to pretend that none of the others exist anymore. And Hwoarang did not join any stupid army! *snorts at the absurdity of the idea* That would really ruin my story.
Author's Note 2: I don't own Tekken or its characters, so don't sue me, but I can damn well ignore the parts of both that I don't like since I'm not even writing this for profit! *crosses eyes and sticks tongue out*
---------------------------------
Author's Note 3: All right... you guys have been getting spoiled, since this is the first part of the semester for me and I haven't had much homework to speak of... just to warn you all that my frequent updating as I have been can't last forever. Now, for instance, I am going camping for the weekend. So this is the last chapter you are getting for a little while... ^_~
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As the doorknob rattled Tora leaped up again with a happy chirp, dashing to get the door. She was met with an outthrust brown paper sack and a gruff voice, which was smothered for a moment as she hugged Jin roughly. "These should be put on ice immediately. Please attend to them." Jin nodded at Hwoarang, running his eyes over hiss choice of dress almost unconsciously, and refusing offers of help as he packed his own armful of sacks to the kitchen. "What were you two talking about?"
"You," the redhead volunteered. His dark eyes latched onto his former rival's with curious magnetism for several moments before either could look away. Hwoarang's voice became almost subdued as he clarified. "We were talking about *that night*…" Jin nodded as though to himself and took a deep breath. He let it all out in a poof of air as Tora poked him sharply, shaking her head. She mouthed that she was going to see to a bit of gardening (the night-blooming flowers seemed to fare better with special care). Hwoarang stepped to the giant window and stared, entranced, at the city lights shining in the growing darkness. "Jin- just how late did you let me sleep, anyway?"
The man grinned sheepishly. "Until about four in the afternoon, why? Does night fall too quickly for your liking?"
"Not at all. It's just that I couldn't remember seeing the sunset today." Quiet filled the room, almost uncomfortable, until Hwoarang took a seat at the table.
Jin felt compelled to talk. "So Hwoarang. Have you ever been to a mobile dance club?"
"Oh- not recently. I haven't been able to find any, since all my old acquaintances have moved out of town and that was the only way I could get in to one anyhow. Why do you ask?"
Jin went to the refrigerator and opened a can of Mountain Dew before responding. "I want to take you as my guest to tonight's party downtown, the 'Dirty Laundry' gathering. There's going to be some pretty important people there, not to mention a few of the prominent local bands. The whole event is supposed to be pretty incredible." There was a pause as he ran his eyes over the redhead's outfit again before smiling slightly. "You're wearing one of my favorite outfits."
"Uh, well, it was comfortable." If Jin had looked a little closer over the top of his soda can he would've seen an unsteady warmth rising to Hwoarang's cheeks. "And you said…"
"Oh, I'm not upset or anything. Just sort of surprised." Jin emptied the contents of his can and tossed it in the recycling bin. He decided to take a seat as well, with the pretense of sorting through the stack of mail on the table. "Our tastes are apparently more similar than I thought," he mused.
"Uh-huh." Hwoarang looked down at his fingers. He had started thinking about Tora's glib riddling and couldn't get it out of his mind that he had felt sort of incomplete (thus his drinking habits, though he couldn't get himself addicted- he'd certainly tried hard enough) since the last time he'd parted with Jin. *What does that mean? I knew I didn't hate him since our first encounter at the Tournament, but it was easy to forget that in the heat of a good fight… I just couldn't win. Couldn't push myself that extra bit and make myself really hurt him. I didn't hate him but I didn't exactly run up and hug him before our fights.* He tried to ignore the echo of his own voice from his private nightmare, where Jin put himself in seemingly real danger on his behalf. *It can't be simple friendship; or maybe I'm only leading myself to believe it's something more... It was just a dream.* At that moment Hwoarang became aware of a pair of worried, golden-brown eyes close to his. The smell of cinnamon and musk came from somewhere and added to his disorientation. He focused on listening to what Jin was saying but couldn't quite understand his words.
"Hwoarang- come on, don't pass out- if you're that tired you can go back to sleep. We don't have to go to the concert tonight. Hwoarang-" Jin realized that the Korean was getting pale. His skin was clammy. "Are you feeling okay?" He felt stupid for having to ask. His slanted eyes latched onto Hwoarang's.
The look in his host's face roused him; Hwoarang sat up carefully. He felt cold sweat running down his face. An indescribable fear gripped him as hard as he was gripping Jin's forearm, and it was shining out from his haunted eyes. "I'll… I'll be fine. I have these things sometimes, it's nothing-" he began, but Jin didn't look convinced. Hwoarang closed his eyes and shivered. *It was just a dream,* he reminded himself.
"You really ought to see a doctor or something…" The spiky-headed man realized with a pang that he wasn't very good at being authorative. *Perhaps you need practice,* a soft voice echoed in his head. He snarled silently at it. *Go ahead. Ask him if he wants to play doctor.* Impossibly dark eyes opened again and met his, or maybe looked through them into his skull. He couldn't tell the difference. "Would you let me take you-"
"I don't think I'm ready for that," Hwoarang interrupted. His shoulders went a little slack.
Jin took in what he'd said and opened his mouth a little in surprise. He licked his lips nervously. The thought came unbidden that since Hwoarang had taken his words to mean *that*, it just told him that either he had been right about his thoughts about the Korean, or that Hwoarang really was out of it. The spike-haired man was inclined to think that he was just out of it. *Maybe I could get rid of that dirty energy he's got cooped up. It couldn't hurt to try.*Jin bowed his head slightly, pressing a thumb to each of Hwoarang's inner wrists, tracing the veins there. He closed his eyes and concentrated. The process he wanted to use was simple- drawing the negative energy from the redhead's body and attempting to open the channels that would let in more of the clean energy he had to spare- but something stopped him momentarily, a resistant barrier of sorts. He began humming quietly in a monotone, lulling Hwoarang into more complete stillness, and began again.
He visualized his own energy, white light, flowing from his thumb-tips into Hwoarang's 'veins', felt it begin pulsating slowly. With each beat it became a little cloudier until its shade was something close to murky beige. He sent out a fresh wash of purity into Hwoarang and forced the dirty energy out through the redhead's bare toes, then cycled the new energy through the same path. When his patient burst from the trance he'd been using to reinforce the faint- or whatever it had been- Jin exhaled sharply. Hwoarang's eyes were wide, full of terror and pain, but unseeing. "Don't take him from me!" he whispered. "Don't take him away!" The Korean's fingers twitched, then he slumped again. The little whimpers Hwoarang made as the dark energy was forcibly removed from him, bereft sounds like the gasps of a dreaming child, were certainly cause for concern.
"Why have you neglected your well-being?" Jin whispered aloud, troubled. He intended on taking the tired man back to bed for a rest. He stilled his thumbs' almost instinctive caressing when slender fingers grasped his hand weakly. He looked down into half-open, shadowed eyes and felt as though he were falling into a dark well. The corners of Hwoarang's lips, so dangerously close to his, lifted slightly in a smile, and the eyes slipped shut again. Jin shook his head slowly, not quite understanding why his guest was having such an effortless affect on him.
"He's out again?" Tora's voice came from the doorway. She sounded as though she was trying to be neutral but it was impossible, as usual.
Jin nodded pensively. "I tried to do a cleansing, but he woke partially from the trance and told me (or someone) 'don't take him from me'. I can guess some of what he was talking about, but I don't know for sure. I will have to ask him when he becomes coherent again."
"And the party?" she asked softly. She knew that Jin would stay home with his guest if he thought it necessary.
"It will have to wait until I've gotten some answers. I'm… worried." With that revelation, Jin picked the Korean up and carried him back toward the sole bedroom in the apartment.