Unpredictable Impulses, Chapter 8.3 (for simplicity's sake, and because Fanfiction.net won't let me label it chapter 8.3, we'll just call it 10. *looks grumpy*)
I hope if you've gotten to this chapter, the warning label on all the other ones have ingrained themselves permanently into your brains so I don't have to keep putting them up. ^_______^
Author's Note 1: Sorry it took so long to finish, but this is the first m/m sex scene I've ever gotten out of my perverted little mind and into text, and except for finishing this one story, it may be the last. It's hard to convey everything that I want to convey while wondering if it's going to come across as offensive. *sighs* I shouldn't even care, but I know how the basic storyline goes, so I'm not writing this for myself anymore. It's all for you guys (especially the people that emailed me and posted reviews to help me decide how this chapter should go). That better make you feel pretty damn special, you ingrates... *winks* Waaaah!! Homework!! I hate it!
Author's Note 2: I know you aren't ingrates, but if you're offended by my teasing, you'll probably be offended by this chapter, and should skip over it. In my opinion, you'll be missing a lot; it's up to you though.
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Hwoarang leaned close to whisper softly in Jin's ear. "I'd rather take this particular dance somewhere private." Before he could say anything else, he was swept up into the spike-haired man's arms.
"That could be arranged," was all Jin said as he strode toward the exit, but his mind was full of noise. *What if he wants to go to a hotel? What if he only wants a one-nighter?* Worry, anticipation, and a hint of fear colored his thoughts. He threw Hwoarang over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and charged out the door and straight for a ladder going up the well wall. "This used to be the sewage system," he remarked innocently as he heaved them both upwards. He felt the Korean tense up, and almost laughed out loud. *Does he think I want to stop here?* No... a moment so intimate as what he hoped they might share would be wasted in such a place. Jin would not have either of them waking up sore or regretful. "Just hold onto my neck, we'll be home before you know it."
Hwoarang stayed tense for a long moment, his fingers digging into his host's skin with misinterpreted urgency. Then suddenly he went limp, drawing himself up and placing a hot kiss on an exposed part of Jin's shoulder. The Japanese man almost stumbled as he clambered to his feet on solid ground at last, cursing in surprise. "Don't do that when I'm getting us out of the rain!" he yelled as he accelerated down the street.
"It's not rai-" the redhead started to say, but the sudden downpour swept the words from his mouth. *How stupid is this!* he thought frantically. He tried to get Jin's attention, but they continued to dodge streetlamps and alleyways as Jin ran through gods-only-knew what direction. Hwoarang couldn't tell from his point of view, nor did he care. He nipped at Jin's neck, squirming slightly for more reach. He was heaved up unceremoniously as his ride started carrying them up the stairs leading away from the street level. "Slow down, I can walk the rest of the way!" he said indignantly. "Put me down!"
After trotting up the last few stairs and into the apartment building, Jin took one look at him and chuckled, spinning the live cargo across his shoulder and onto his feet. "Yes sir," he agreed with belated meekness.
*Ahh gods... I know my weakness.* Hwoarang grabbed the Japanese man's shirt in his fists and pulled him roughly against the wall for a passionate kiss. The redhead dragged himself away and took a shaky breath, raising both eyebrows. "I can't restrain myself for much longer," he whispered, stroking Jin's cheek lightly and peering into his gaze.
The golden brown eyes softened as a tanned hand came up to cover Hwoarang's paler one. "I ask you to do so, for both our sakes," Jin answered quietly, meeting his guest's eyes with an expression that said all he was unable to. "Tora will probably be asleep on the sofa." The Korean nodded and took his hand. They tiptoed down the hall toward Jin's apartment door, the Japanese suppressing a laugh as he unlocked it. "We must look like a pair of little boys up to some sort of mischief."
Hwoarang slipped his hands into Jin's back pockets and kissed the back of his neck. "I certainly am," he murmured, letting go reluctantly as the door swung open to reveal Tora stood there with her arms crossed. Her clear blue eyes flashed, her fist came up, and before Jin could dodge, he was thrown backward into Hwoarang by the force of her punch. "Hey!" the redhead yelped, catching Jin by reflex alone.
"What was that for?" Jin asked calmly, dabbing at his eye with the back of one hand. *That's going to bruise...* He looked her up and down and winced. *She's pretty furious about something.*
Tora laughed sharply, her tone deceptively sweet when she spoke. "What was that for? Jin Kazama, you can figure it out yourself! I'm done with you and your *obsessions* for tonight at least!!" She stalked past them without another word.
Hwoarang stared after her in awe. She must have been holding back during their spar. "You all right?" he asked, spinning Jin around gently and examining his face with a soft touch. He wanted to ask further, to see what was going on, but he had a feeling that it was just between the two of them. What he couldn't have guessed was that his host honestly had no idea what the problem was.
"All right? Probably." Jin avoided the Korean's gaze, taking his hand and pulling him inside. He started to say something else but was pushed down forcibly onto the couch.
"Stay there," Hwoarang said firmly. "You're getting an ice pack before anything else." He tried to joke as he went to the kitchen. "I sure hope we didn't wake anyone up."
"It'd be a surprise if we did. Neighbors around here are night owls." A pause. "Hwoarang?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" Hwoarang came back out of the kitchen with a ziplock baggie full of ice cubes, wrapped in a dishtowel. Jin was looking at the floor, silent for a long moment. The Korean sat down beside him and held the ice pack out, unsure of whether to apply it himself.
"I'm sorry for not explaining everything to you. I hoped that you'd be willing to stay awhile... that I'd have time..." His words tapered off, and, for lack of any inspiration for other acts, he took the ice and pressed it against his face. It was a good excuse to keep his eyes shut. "There's something going on in this town. The police force is intent on stopping parties like I took you to tonight, and it seems that they're employing everyone they can to help them out. I don't understand it, but I've been trying to figure it out for a while. That's why I deal with Garrett... and Math... and a few other people that were smarter than to attend Dirty Laundry tonight."
Hwoarang sat there, wondering what this was leading to. The silence became awkward after about a minute and he guessed that he was supposed to respond. "Oh," was all he could say for a long moment. Then his eyes narrowed slightly. "Are the different personas really necessary?"
Jin removed the ice pack with a nod, as though that was the question he'd known would be asked. "There's only the one that I use for classes, but Shinji is a little eccentric. By all outward appearances, he is just a student with access to the city's underground, but that alone grants him a lot of privileges that Jin Kazama would never be able to attain." He met Hwoarang's eyes finally, his expression unhappy. "Tora was the one who suggested I keep in contact with that world, but that was months ago. I guess now she wishes the same thing that I do, that I could just ignore all of this and go back to being one person, just Jin." He looked down again and put his head in his hands. "But it's not an obsession. I'm not antisocial, but I can't help it that none of the students Shinji knows are trustworthy enough to learn who I really am. Even if they knew they wouldn't understand. My father... the Mishima conglomerate... the Tournament..."
"Shut up." Jin's head whipped around and he stared at his guest, the twinkle of dampness glittering in his tawny eyes. Hwoarang swung his leg over both of Jin's, straddling him and locking him against the couch. He kissed each of those black, unruly eyebrows, whispering in between: "Kotun Mikoshi knows. *I* know... and what I don't, you can tell me about, right? It's not like we don't have time..." He winked at the astonished Japanese. "Classes don't start again for another twenty-one d-" He was silenced midsentence in the most effective way, suddenly realizing the compromising nature of the position he'd put both of them in as Jin kissed him fiercely. Sensations and guilt swirled dizzyingly through him; he realized after a moment that his fingers were tangled in the cloth of that sexy crimson tank top, and tanned hands had captured his face gently. They broke apart far more softly than they had joined. A trembling exhalation found its way from between Jin's lips, sending a noticeable shiver through the Korean's body.
Jin's eyes remained closed for a contemplative moment, then a tiny smirk curved his mouth and he pulled the redhead to him again. "You talk too much sometimes," he whispered against the other's lips, as his hand stroked Hwoarang's cheek. He got an answering smirk and a feather-light smooch for his effort.
"Me, talk too much? Never." The Korean tightened his fingers in the shirt and flipped Jin with surprising ease, pinning him to the couch almost effortlessly. "All right then. If I talk too much, tell me what I said so I know you understand, and I can shut up already," he teased. He could tell from his host's expression - and the way his muscles (among other things) were tightening beneath him - that he wasn't used to being pursued, and certainly hadn't expected that Hwoarang would do so. For a moment, with this interpretation fresh in his thoughts, the redhead felt just a tad sour. *So I don't have a dominant personality trait in my bones - hmmph. He'll learn differently.*
Hwoarang's thoughts were interrupted when Jin's hands slid down from his chest to his thighs and held them down with a continuing smirk, eliciting a sharp intake of air and those dark eyes slipping shut, the Korean's pale neck curved as he leaned his head back. An adorable blush covered his cheeks. "You want to stay here," Jin whispered, his arousal mingled with joy. Of course they'd have time. He was certain that the Korean would feel his erection through the black pants he still wore; Hwoarang's garb wasn't much thicker. Experimentally he rocked his hips upward while pulling the redhead down gently, chuckling breathlessly above his prey's garbled whimper: "Perhaps, you want to stay *here* as well."
"Jin..." Hwoarang swallowed hard and leaned down, kissing those perfect, pliant lips desperately. He was responding to the feel of Jin, his unique scent and his nearness and his languid movements that were driving him mad from the sheer heat they brought. All that warmth culminated between his legs, throbbing and pulsating like a thing alive.
"What do you want, Hwoarang?" the Japanese murmured, stilling his hips and his lips until the frustrated redhead had to answer.
"You know," he almost choked. His lips were swollen with wanting, his gaze smoldering. "You know, dammit."
"You made me elaborate. It's your turn. Tell me what you want, beautiful." Jin simply smiled and waited, holding Hwoarang motionless.
For a long moment, the redhead looked indecisive, and was startled at himself for it. Finally he lowered his eyes to Jin's mouth, and returned the smile slowly. "I want your clothes off," he enunciated carefully, "and I want you laying at my mercy."
Both of Jin's black eyebrows rose, and his smile widened to a grin. "Now we're getting somewhere," he said approvingly. "But I'm afraid you'll have to compromise." Before the Korean could utter protest, he'd been arranged to Jin's liking and hefted up. The Japanese stood, planting a soft kiss behind Hwoarang's ear.
"What do you mean, compr- mmmph..." Apparently, his host understood all too well the best way to quiet him, and was willing to employ it to his advantage. So much for showing dominance! Hwoarang hardly realized he'd been placed on Jin's bed. He thought he'd just imagined the sense of motion. Once Jin broke their kiss reluctantly and stepped back, the Korean had a moment to wonder; what *had* he meant?
Jin smiled enigmatically, the same one he'd flashed back at the Dirty Laundry club. He paused with his hands poised to start shedding garments. "It's a bit cold, you might want to get under the covers for a moment," he suggested softly. "I just remembered something."
Hwoarang started to ask where he was going, but by the time his mouth was open, the Japanese had already left the room. He shut his eyes and started shucking his garments off, folding them haphazardly before dropping them to the floor. *Damn... he was right, it IS cold.* He scurried under the covers, focusing his will on keeping his hand away from his neglected cock. The glow of the fish and the lava lamp seemed to brighten when Jin walked back in holding something behind his back. "Took you long enough," Hwoarang muttered playfully. Then his mouth dropped open as Jin pulled his shirt and vest off with one hand. He remembered the precise strength of Jin's body from their fights, but he'd never seen this much of it before. The luscious tan was even, all the way down to the waistband of his pants, suggesting that it was more due to natural pigment than UV roasting.
Then the pants were unzipped and drawn off, boxers and all, the smooth length of Jin's cock sliding free and clearly visible. Hwoarang tried not to make his stare too obvious, bending his knees with attempted nonchalance to hide the way his erection was tenting the sheets. The Japanese man took hold of the covers and tugged them enthusiastically, pulling them right out of Hwoarang's grasp and exposing him completely. The redhead mastered his embarrassment quickly and rolled his eyes. "Did you have to do that?"
Jin nodded solemnly as he crawled to Hwoarang's side. One of his hands still closed around something, but then he'd slipped it surreptitiously beneath a pillow. "I absolutely had to. You get to see me, so it's only fair that I get my chance too." He leaned down to partake of the Korean's lips, giving them both time to become accustomed to their mutual nakedness. He let his hand rest on the near-white chest, fingers splayed, keeping Hwoarang distracted with the inquiring touch of tongue against tongue while his hand slowly explored. The Korean keened into the kiss as knowing fingers rolled his nipple between them with the perfect touch of measured force. Jin was surprised at the strength of his reaction, and would have mentioned it if he hadn't been busy savoring Hwoarang's taste. He realized as his knee slipped between Hwoarang's legs, almost of its own accord, that his control was swiftly departing. Even though the Korean opened his legs invitingly, Jin felt like he had to make sure. No regrets. "Hwoarang," he whispered, and the serious tone made the redhead open his eyes for a moment. "Tell me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, all right? I... I don't know how far you want to go with this, so if you want me to stop at some point, you better tell me. Otherwise I don't know if I'll be able to."
Dark eyes widened slightly. He wanted to retort in the same easy, joking manner he had been, but he felt a twinge of uncertainty reflecting from his host's; he made himself push it away. He was glad for Jin's concern. "I want to share pleasure with you, Kazama," Hwoarang said simply, then let a twinkle into his eyes and a smile into his tone. "If I want you to stop, you'll be the second person to know. I, of course, will be the first." And that was the end of the matter, for he leaned to meet Jin's lips with his own. *Strange,* the redhead mused, only partially coherently, *that some guys apparently don't like kissing. I'm glad he isn't one of them - it'd be such a waste of talent.* The sensation of his fingers skimming lightly down Jin's chest and abdomen made the Japanese fighter squirm, but for the moment, Hwoarang avoided contact with his cock. It would only make the pleasure all the sweeter when he relented. Then, suddenly, the lips attached to his separated with a damp sound, and both his hands were captured by the wrist and held above his head.
"Keep them there," Jin ordered briefly. In the haze of lust clouding his thoughts, all instincts to dominate had fled from Hwoarang's mind; he complied automatically, and the Japanese felt a thrill run through his nerve endings. He kissed down the redhead's chest, pausing to abuse his nipples gently before getting to his knees on the bed and positioning himself. With no warning he dipped down and took the head of Hwoarang's hardness into his mouth, sucking while the tip of his tongue traced up the bottom of the shaft.
*So this is the compromise he meant.* The Korean writhed helplessly on the bed, shivering and struggling to keep his hands still. His quiet whimpers quickly swelled to full-on moans. He made the mistake of looking down his prone form just as Jin took him all the way in with a hungry expression, and Hwoarang's eyes shut tight as his head pressed back against the bed. It was like waking to the morning sun, glazed with perfect clouds and snow shining on the ground and the most amazing amber eyes- it was like the sweetest song thrumming through the body, stirring the soul- it was like the clean smell that rises from the leaves just after a warm autumn storm. He didn't know what to call the feeling - pleasure was not a strong enough word - but Hwoarang knew he was slowly becoming an addict. Abruptly his thrusts met chill air, the dampness lingering on his skin not enough to cool his desire. "Please," he whispered incoherently, slipping his arms around the other's warm body as they kissed. The Korean could taste himself, but mingled as it was with Jin, it was not displeasing.
Jin stopped to lick his lips. "Please what?" he asked innocently. "Tell me, Hwoarang."
"You, inside me." The heated flush darkened across the redhead's face. "Need it... want it..."
The Japanese waited for a long moment, tracing Hwoarang's feverish facial features and waiting to see if he'd change his mind. "You aren't the only one," he admitted in a low voice. He winked with a tiny smile as he drew the suspicious-looking bottle from beneath the pillow where he'd stashed it. "Massage gunk," he explained, "it works better around the chest and shoulders than lotion." He sat up and poured some into his palms, warming it between them while Hwoarang watched with half-lidded eyes. Shortly the scent of lavendar, light but definite, rose from the gel, and tawny eyes fluttered briefly as Jin's tanned hands lubricated his own aching shaft. "Close your eyes," Jin instructed, "and try not to tense up."
That was all the warning Hwoarang got as something extremely slippery touched his entrance, slid inside for a moment, out again, then in again. It was a new sensation, being invaded, that he instinctively resisted for a moment before trying actively to loosen his muscles; the faint discomfort faded almost immediately. He'd never given himself this way to another male, though he'd taken his pleasure twice. But there had been little emotion behind those experiences, and only a hollow sort of pleasure that faded fast leaving nothing in its wake; no warmth, not even of friendship. His red hair spilled across the pillow as he pressed his head back again, keeping his eyes shut at his host's request, and his attention focused on that finger. Another joined it, and he started to feel a slow burn of pleasure. He moaned softly, unaware he'd been holding his breath until it all rushed out. Before the sound could come to its natural end Jin's fingers drove in hard, brushing something inside him that made the Korean's moan turn into a breathless wail.
"Well, that was definitely a reaction." Jin couldn't help but prolong the contact, making the beautiful creature beneath him shudder and try to push against his hand to take in more. Iron will weakened, the Japanese shoved his fingers in a little harder, testing. He was satisfied at the response; no pain, apparently, not by the sound of those full-throated cries. The fingers slowly pulled out, a disappointed groan telling him that Hwoarang already missed them. Jin positioned himself, torturing his lover by rubbing the slippery head of his cock in a circular motion before pressing past the tight ring of muscle. Hwoarang's lovely pale face turned from one side to the other, eyes squeezed shut and whimpering at the feeling of being impaled. It took every last ounce of control the Japanese had to keep from slamming in savagely. Then the combination of wordless gasping encouragement and Hwoarang's backward thrusts took their toll, and he accelerated almost painfully. It was too much, too good, too fast - he wrapped a hand firmly around the redhead's shivering length, stroking him slowly in contrast. Jin neither knew nor cared that he was forced to ignore the rest of the world for this moment, to keep his senses from overloading him. He felt like the waves he loved to surf, breaking around a point in picturesque serenity defied by the whooping of a Japanese surf nazi as he slipped all the way through a long barrel unscathed, and Hwoarang was the sun enveloping him in soft warmth that he knew wouldn't burn. He stopped completely right before he would have tumbled headlong into rapture, letting go of Hwoarang so he would have to wait as well.
The redhead tried ineffectually to get him moving again. "You cruel, evil man," he groaned between ragged breaths, digging weakly into the sheets with his fingers. Amber eyes watched him until he met their gaze, then the bronzed fighter drew gasps from him with smooth, deep thrusts, each angled to strike that sweet spot firmly. "Nnnngh.... Jin...!" His answering cry was music to the Korean's ears. Hwoarang's eyebrows drew together in concentration, still meeting Jin's eyes, unable to look away. His mouth opened once more. Nothing came out except a silent exclamation. He came hard, pearly liquid spurting onto his chest as his internal muscles clenched, dragging Jin over the edge of ecstasy with him.
Jin's head bowed, his bangs spilling over his face and hiding his eyes as their breathing returned to some semblance of normalcy. "Thank you, Hwoarang..."
Hwoarang let out a long sigh of contentment. "You know, there's one thing that would make this better," he murmured, and pulled Jin down for a long, sweet kiss. The quiet that followed was not awkward at all, broken only when Jin pulled the covers over them both, then cradled Hwoarang protectively in his arms.
The transition to sleep eased over them as gently as the blankets had, leaving them vulnerable to dreams...
I hope if you've gotten to this chapter, the warning label on all the other ones have ingrained themselves permanently into your brains so I don't have to keep putting them up. ^_______^
Author's Note 1: Sorry it took so long to finish, but this is the first m/m sex scene I've ever gotten out of my perverted little mind and into text, and except for finishing this one story, it may be the last. It's hard to convey everything that I want to convey while wondering if it's going to come across as offensive. *sighs* I shouldn't even care, but I know how the basic storyline goes, so I'm not writing this for myself anymore. It's all for you guys (especially the people that emailed me and posted reviews to help me decide how this chapter should go). That better make you feel pretty damn special, you ingrates... *winks* Waaaah!! Homework!! I hate it!
Author's Note 2: I know you aren't ingrates, but if you're offended by my teasing, you'll probably be offended by this chapter, and should skip over it. In my opinion, you'll be missing a lot; it's up to you though.
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Hwoarang leaned close to whisper softly in Jin's ear. "I'd rather take this particular dance somewhere private." Before he could say anything else, he was swept up into the spike-haired man's arms.
"That could be arranged," was all Jin said as he strode toward the exit, but his mind was full of noise. *What if he wants to go to a hotel? What if he only wants a one-nighter?* Worry, anticipation, and a hint of fear colored his thoughts. He threw Hwoarang over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and charged out the door and straight for a ladder going up the well wall. "This used to be the sewage system," he remarked innocently as he heaved them both upwards. He felt the Korean tense up, and almost laughed out loud. *Does he think I want to stop here?* No... a moment so intimate as what he hoped they might share would be wasted in such a place. Jin would not have either of them waking up sore or regretful. "Just hold onto my neck, we'll be home before you know it."
Hwoarang stayed tense for a long moment, his fingers digging into his host's skin with misinterpreted urgency. Then suddenly he went limp, drawing himself up and placing a hot kiss on an exposed part of Jin's shoulder. The Japanese man almost stumbled as he clambered to his feet on solid ground at last, cursing in surprise. "Don't do that when I'm getting us out of the rain!" he yelled as he accelerated down the street.
"It's not rai-" the redhead started to say, but the sudden downpour swept the words from his mouth. *How stupid is this!* he thought frantically. He tried to get Jin's attention, but they continued to dodge streetlamps and alleyways as Jin ran through gods-only-knew what direction. Hwoarang couldn't tell from his point of view, nor did he care. He nipped at Jin's neck, squirming slightly for more reach. He was heaved up unceremoniously as his ride started carrying them up the stairs leading away from the street level. "Slow down, I can walk the rest of the way!" he said indignantly. "Put me down!"
After trotting up the last few stairs and into the apartment building, Jin took one look at him and chuckled, spinning the live cargo across his shoulder and onto his feet. "Yes sir," he agreed with belated meekness.
*Ahh gods... I know my weakness.* Hwoarang grabbed the Japanese man's shirt in his fists and pulled him roughly against the wall for a passionate kiss. The redhead dragged himself away and took a shaky breath, raising both eyebrows. "I can't restrain myself for much longer," he whispered, stroking Jin's cheek lightly and peering into his gaze.
The golden brown eyes softened as a tanned hand came up to cover Hwoarang's paler one. "I ask you to do so, for both our sakes," Jin answered quietly, meeting his guest's eyes with an expression that said all he was unable to. "Tora will probably be asleep on the sofa." The Korean nodded and took his hand. They tiptoed down the hall toward Jin's apartment door, the Japanese suppressing a laugh as he unlocked it. "We must look like a pair of little boys up to some sort of mischief."
Hwoarang slipped his hands into Jin's back pockets and kissed the back of his neck. "I certainly am," he murmured, letting go reluctantly as the door swung open to reveal Tora stood there with her arms crossed. Her clear blue eyes flashed, her fist came up, and before Jin could dodge, he was thrown backward into Hwoarang by the force of her punch. "Hey!" the redhead yelped, catching Jin by reflex alone.
"What was that for?" Jin asked calmly, dabbing at his eye with the back of one hand. *That's going to bruise...* He looked her up and down and winced. *She's pretty furious about something.*
Tora laughed sharply, her tone deceptively sweet when she spoke. "What was that for? Jin Kazama, you can figure it out yourself! I'm done with you and your *obsessions* for tonight at least!!" She stalked past them without another word.
Hwoarang stared after her in awe. She must have been holding back during their spar. "You all right?" he asked, spinning Jin around gently and examining his face with a soft touch. He wanted to ask further, to see what was going on, but he had a feeling that it was just between the two of them. What he couldn't have guessed was that his host honestly had no idea what the problem was.
"All right? Probably." Jin avoided the Korean's gaze, taking his hand and pulling him inside. He started to say something else but was pushed down forcibly onto the couch.
"Stay there," Hwoarang said firmly. "You're getting an ice pack before anything else." He tried to joke as he went to the kitchen. "I sure hope we didn't wake anyone up."
"It'd be a surprise if we did. Neighbors around here are night owls." A pause. "Hwoarang?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" Hwoarang came back out of the kitchen with a ziplock baggie full of ice cubes, wrapped in a dishtowel. Jin was looking at the floor, silent for a long moment. The Korean sat down beside him and held the ice pack out, unsure of whether to apply it himself.
"I'm sorry for not explaining everything to you. I hoped that you'd be willing to stay awhile... that I'd have time..." His words tapered off, and, for lack of any inspiration for other acts, he took the ice and pressed it against his face. It was a good excuse to keep his eyes shut. "There's something going on in this town. The police force is intent on stopping parties like I took you to tonight, and it seems that they're employing everyone they can to help them out. I don't understand it, but I've been trying to figure it out for a while. That's why I deal with Garrett... and Math... and a few other people that were smarter than to attend Dirty Laundry tonight."
Hwoarang sat there, wondering what this was leading to. The silence became awkward after about a minute and he guessed that he was supposed to respond. "Oh," was all he could say for a long moment. Then his eyes narrowed slightly. "Are the different personas really necessary?"
Jin removed the ice pack with a nod, as though that was the question he'd known would be asked. "There's only the one that I use for classes, but Shinji is a little eccentric. By all outward appearances, he is just a student with access to the city's underground, but that alone grants him a lot of privileges that Jin Kazama would never be able to attain." He met Hwoarang's eyes finally, his expression unhappy. "Tora was the one who suggested I keep in contact with that world, but that was months ago. I guess now she wishes the same thing that I do, that I could just ignore all of this and go back to being one person, just Jin." He looked down again and put his head in his hands. "But it's not an obsession. I'm not antisocial, but I can't help it that none of the students Shinji knows are trustworthy enough to learn who I really am. Even if they knew they wouldn't understand. My father... the Mishima conglomerate... the Tournament..."
"Shut up." Jin's head whipped around and he stared at his guest, the twinkle of dampness glittering in his tawny eyes. Hwoarang swung his leg over both of Jin's, straddling him and locking him against the couch. He kissed each of those black, unruly eyebrows, whispering in between: "Kotun Mikoshi knows. *I* know... and what I don't, you can tell me about, right? It's not like we don't have time..." He winked at the astonished Japanese. "Classes don't start again for another twenty-one d-" He was silenced midsentence in the most effective way, suddenly realizing the compromising nature of the position he'd put both of them in as Jin kissed him fiercely. Sensations and guilt swirled dizzyingly through him; he realized after a moment that his fingers were tangled in the cloth of that sexy crimson tank top, and tanned hands had captured his face gently. They broke apart far more softly than they had joined. A trembling exhalation found its way from between Jin's lips, sending a noticeable shiver through the Korean's body.
Jin's eyes remained closed for a contemplative moment, then a tiny smirk curved his mouth and he pulled the redhead to him again. "You talk too much sometimes," he whispered against the other's lips, as his hand stroked Hwoarang's cheek. He got an answering smirk and a feather-light smooch for his effort.
"Me, talk too much? Never." The Korean tightened his fingers in the shirt and flipped Jin with surprising ease, pinning him to the couch almost effortlessly. "All right then. If I talk too much, tell me what I said so I know you understand, and I can shut up already," he teased. He could tell from his host's expression - and the way his muscles (among other things) were tightening beneath him - that he wasn't used to being pursued, and certainly hadn't expected that Hwoarang would do so. For a moment, with this interpretation fresh in his thoughts, the redhead felt just a tad sour. *So I don't have a dominant personality trait in my bones - hmmph. He'll learn differently.*
Hwoarang's thoughts were interrupted when Jin's hands slid down from his chest to his thighs and held them down with a continuing smirk, eliciting a sharp intake of air and those dark eyes slipping shut, the Korean's pale neck curved as he leaned his head back. An adorable blush covered his cheeks. "You want to stay here," Jin whispered, his arousal mingled with joy. Of course they'd have time. He was certain that the Korean would feel his erection through the black pants he still wore; Hwoarang's garb wasn't much thicker. Experimentally he rocked his hips upward while pulling the redhead down gently, chuckling breathlessly above his prey's garbled whimper: "Perhaps, you want to stay *here* as well."
"Jin..." Hwoarang swallowed hard and leaned down, kissing those perfect, pliant lips desperately. He was responding to the feel of Jin, his unique scent and his nearness and his languid movements that were driving him mad from the sheer heat they brought. All that warmth culminated between his legs, throbbing and pulsating like a thing alive.
"What do you want, Hwoarang?" the Japanese murmured, stilling his hips and his lips until the frustrated redhead had to answer.
"You know," he almost choked. His lips were swollen with wanting, his gaze smoldering. "You know, dammit."
"You made me elaborate. It's your turn. Tell me what you want, beautiful." Jin simply smiled and waited, holding Hwoarang motionless.
For a long moment, the redhead looked indecisive, and was startled at himself for it. Finally he lowered his eyes to Jin's mouth, and returned the smile slowly. "I want your clothes off," he enunciated carefully, "and I want you laying at my mercy."
Both of Jin's black eyebrows rose, and his smile widened to a grin. "Now we're getting somewhere," he said approvingly. "But I'm afraid you'll have to compromise." Before the Korean could utter protest, he'd been arranged to Jin's liking and hefted up. The Japanese stood, planting a soft kiss behind Hwoarang's ear.
"What do you mean, compr- mmmph..." Apparently, his host understood all too well the best way to quiet him, and was willing to employ it to his advantage. So much for showing dominance! Hwoarang hardly realized he'd been placed on Jin's bed. He thought he'd just imagined the sense of motion. Once Jin broke their kiss reluctantly and stepped back, the Korean had a moment to wonder; what *had* he meant?
Jin smiled enigmatically, the same one he'd flashed back at the Dirty Laundry club. He paused with his hands poised to start shedding garments. "It's a bit cold, you might want to get under the covers for a moment," he suggested softly. "I just remembered something."
Hwoarang started to ask where he was going, but by the time his mouth was open, the Japanese had already left the room. He shut his eyes and started shucking his garments off, folding them haphazardly before dropping them to the floor. *Damn... he was right, it IS cold.* He scurried under the covers, focusing his will on keeping his hand away from his neglected cock. The glow of the fish and the lava lamp seemed to brighten when Jin walked back in holding something behind his back. "Took you long enough," Hwoarang muttered playfully. Then his mouth dropped open as Jin pulled his shirt and vest off with one hand. He remembered the precise strength of Jin's body from their fights, but he'd never seen this much of it before. The luscious tan was even, all the way down to the waistband of his pants, suggesting that it was more due to natural pigment than UV roasting.
Then the pants were unzipped and drawn off, boxers and all, the smooth length of Jin's cock sliding free and clearly visible. Hwoarang tried not to make his stare too obvious, bending his knees with attempted nonchalance to hide the way his erection was tenting the sheets. The Japanese man took hold of the covers and tugged them enthusiastically, pulling them right out of Hwoarang's grasp and exposing him completely. The redhead mastered his embarrassment quickly and rolled his eyes. "Did you have to do that?"
Jin nodded solemnly as he crawled to Hwoarang's side. One of his hands still closed around something, but then he'd slipped it surreptitiously beneath a pillow. "I absolutely had to. You get to see me, so it's only fair that I get my chance too." He leaned down to partake of the Korean's lips, giving them both time to become accustomed to their mutual nakedness. He let his hand rest on the near-white chest, fingers splayed, keeping Hwoarang distracted with the inquiring touch of tongue against tongue while his hand slowly explored. The Korean keened into the kiss as knowing fingers rolled his nipple between them with the perfect touch of measured force. Jin was surprised at the strength of his reaction, and would have mentioned it if he hadn't been busy savoring Hwoarang's taste. He realized as his knee slipped between Hwoarang's legs, almost of its own accord, that his control was swiftly departing. Even though the Korean opened his legs invitingly, Jin felt like he had to make sure. No regrets. "Hwoarang," he whispered, and the serious tone made the redhead open his eyes for a moment. "Tell me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, all right? I... I don't know how far you want to go with this, so if you want me to stop at some point, you better tell me. Otherwise I don't know if I'll be able to."
Dark eyes widened slightly. He wanted to retort in the same easy, joking manner he had been, but he felt a twinge of uncertainty reflecting from his host's; he made himself push it away. He was glad for Jin's concern. "I want to share pleasure with you, Kazama," Hwoarang said simply, then let a twinkle into his eyes and a smile into his tone. "If I want you to stop, you'll be the second person to know. I, of course, will be the first." And that was the end of the matter, for he leaned to meet Jin's lips with his own. *Strange,* the redhead mused, only partially coherently, *that some guys apparently don't like kissing. I'm glad he isn't one of them - it'd be such a waste of talent.* The sensation of his fingers skimming lightly down Jin's chest and abdomen made the Japanese fighter squirm, but for the moment, Hwoarang avoided contact with his cock. It would only make the pleasure all the sweeter when he relented. Then, suddenly, the lips attached to his separated with a damp sound, and both his hands were captured by the wrist and held above his head.
"Keep them there," Jin ordered briefly. In the haze of lust clouding his thoughts, all instincts to dominate had fled from Hwoarang's mind; he complied automatically, and the Japanese felt a thrill run through his nerve endings. He kissed down the redhead's chest, pausing to abuse his nipples gently before getting to his knees on the bed and positioning himself. With no warning he dipped down and took the head of Hwoarang's hardness into his mouth, sucking while the tip of his tongue traced up the bottom of the shaft.
*So this is the compromise he meant.* The Korean writhed helplessly on the bed, shivering and struggling to keep his hands still. His quiet whimpers quickly swelled to full-on moans. He made the mistake of looking down his prone form just as Jin took him all the way in with a hungry expression, and Hwoarang's eyes shut tight as his head pressed back against the bed. It was like waking to the morning sun, glazed with perfect clouds and snow shining on the ground and the most amazing amber eyes- it was like the sweetest song thrumming through the body, stirring the soul- it was like the clean smell that rises from the leaves just after a warm autumn storm. He didn't know what to call the feeling - pleasure was not a strong enough word - but Hwoarang knew he was slowly becoming an addict. Abruptly his thrusts met chill air, the dampness lingering on his skin not enough to cool his desire. "Please," he whispered incoherently, slipping his arms around the other's warm body as they kissed. The Korean could taste himself, but mingled as it was with Jin, it was not displeasing.
Jin stopped to lick his lips. "Please what?" he asked innocently. "Tell me, Hwoarang."
"You, inside me." The heated flush darkened across the redhead's face. "Need it... want it..."
The Japanese waited for a long moment, tracing Hwoarang's feverish facial features and waiting to see if he'd change his mind. "You aren't the only one," he admitted in a low voice. He winked with a tiny smile as he drew the suspicious-looking bottle from beneath the pillow where he'd stashed it. "Massage gunk," he explained, "it works better around the chest and shoulders than lotion." He sat up and poured some into his palms, warming it between them while Hwoarang watched with half-lidded eyes. Shortly the scent of lavendar, light but definite, rose from the gel, and tawny eyes fluttered briefly as Jin's tanned hands lubricated his own aching shaft. "Close your eyes," Jin instructed, "and try not to tense up."
That was all the warning Hwoarang got as something extremely slippery touched his entrance, slid inside for a moment, out again, then in again. It was a new sensation, being invaded, that he instinctively resisted for a moment before trying actively to loosen his muscles; the faint discomfort faded almost immediately. He'd never given himself this way to another male, though he'd taken his pleasure twice. But there had been little emotion behind those experiences, and only a hollow sort of pleasure that faded fast leaving nothing in its wake; no warmth, not even of friendship. His red hair spilled across the pillow as he pressed his head back again, keeping his eyes shut at his host's request, and his attention focused on that finger. Another joined it, and he started to feel a slow burn of pleasure. He moaned softly, unaware he'd been holding his breath until it all rushed out. Before the sound could come to its natural end Jin's fingers drove in hard, brushing something inside him that made the Korean's moan turn into a breathless wail.
"Well, that was definitely a reaction." Jin couldn't help but prolong the contact, making the beautiful creature beneath him shudder and try to push against his hand to take in more. Iron will weakened, the Japanese shoved his fingers in a little harder, testing. He was satisfied at the response; no pain, apparently, not by the sound of those full-throated cries. The fingers slowly pulled out, a disappointed groan telling him that Hwoarang already missed them. Jin positioned himself, torturing his lover by rubbing the slippery head of his cock in a circular motion before pressing past the tight ring of muscle. Hwoarang's lovely pale face turned from one side to the other, eyes squeezed shut and whimpering at the feeling of being impaled. It took every last ounce of control the Japanese had to keep from slamming in savagely. Then the combination of wordless gasping encouragement and Hwoarang's backward thrusts took their toll, and he accelerated almost painfully. It was too much, too good, too fast - he wrapped a hand firmly around the redhead's shivering length, stroking him slowly in contrast. Jin neither knew nor cared that he was forced to ignore the rest of the world for this moment, to keep his senses from overloading him. He felt like the waves he loved to surf, breaking around a point in picturesque serenity defied by the whooping of a Japanese surf nazi as he slipped all the way through a long barrel unscathed, and Hwoarang was the sun enveloping him in soft warmth that he knew wouldn't burn. He stopped completely right before he would have tumbled headlong into rapture, letting go of Hwoarang so he would have to wait as well.
The redhead tried ineffectually to get him moving again. "You cruel, evil man," he groaned between ragged breaths, digging weakly into the sheets with his fingers. Amber eyes watched him until he met their gaze, then the bronzed fighter drew gasps from him with smooth, deep thrusts, each angled to strike that sweet spot firmly. "Nnnngh.... Jin...!" His answering cry was music to the Korean's ears. Hwoarang's eyebrows drew together in concentration, still meeting Jin's eyes, unable to look away. His mouth opened once more. Nothing came out except a silent exclamation. He came hard, pearly liquid spurting onto his chest as his internal muscles clenched, dragging Jin over the edge of ecstasy with him.
Jin's head bowed, his bangs spilling over his face and hiding his eyes as their breathing returned to some semblance of normalcy. "Thank you, Hwoarang..."
Hwoarang let out a long sigh of contentment. "You know, there's one thing that would make this better," he murmured, and pulled Jin down for a long, sweet kiss. The quiet that followed was not awkward at all, broken only when Jin pulled the covers over them both, then cradled Hwoarang protectively in his arms.
The transition to sleep eased over them as gently as the blankets had, leaving them vulnerable to dreams...