"Devils of the Mind, Devils of the Flesh"
A/N: Hey. Does anyone know why the asteriks are suddenly refusing to show when I upload chapters? I use Notepad to write on, save everything as .txt files, for reference... Until I figure this out, thoughts will be denoted with the thingy.
A/N 2: If you have any questions about things you'd like cleared up in future chapters- or any suggestions, ect, review away and make note of it. I do read the reviews (gives me a nice warm glow from my ears to my toes, hehe) before I update, sometimes by an hour, sometimes by as much of a day. But if I see a question or anything, I'll make a response. Promise.
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Hwoarang's eyes were open several minutes before he realized he was awake. The gray pre-dawn light squeezing in under Jin's door had a ghostly cast to it, almost as though it were an intrusion of his private nightmare into reality. He shook the thought from him, blinking, and remembered in a rush the events of the last night. So much has happened... so much changed... It required too much energy to think about for now... he refused to dispel the sleepy haze and let doubts and worries rush in.
"Hwoarang." Jin's low voice brought his guest's attention back immediately. "Are you awake?"
"Yeah," the redhead muttered. He turned his head away from his lover for a long moment, trying to scrape up some reaction beyond relief, but he couldn't even summon a moment of happiness that his fingers now registered Jin's laced in them.
Jin bit his lip, wondering how to bring up the necessary topic. "We need to talk."
"Can't it wait?" Hwoarang still wasn't looking at him.
The Japanese frowned at the back of his head. "Of course it can." He slipped his hands around his love's waist and pulled him close. "But if you're hoping I can just let this go... well... I can't," he added bluntly. The Korean stiffened in his arms. Well... at least he's looking at me now, Jin thought. Even if those dark eyes were full of such intense emotions that he could barely meet their gaze. "I'm worried about you," he admitted quietly.
"I must have been in a bad way last night-" Hwoarang began, if you're pushing the issue like this, but didn't finish his thought aloud. "You didn't want to talk about it last night," he observed instead, almost accusingly.
Jin nodded once. "That's right. I thought that things would be too fresh in your mind still, and... hey now, don't think you can distract me so easily, dammit!" He took hold of both of Hwoarang's errant hands, blushing furiously. His skin tingled where those naughty fingers had passed.
The Korean's smile faded. "I don't want to think about it, much less talk about it," he mumbled miserably. He pulled his hands free and sat up, scrubbing at the corners of his eyes.
"Last night, you said something about the demon."
Hwoarang's hands froze in place at the carefully offhand remark. Remembered fears and helpless rage and disgust swelled in him and he almost growled out the words: "I don't want to talk about it right now. Maybe not ever." He got out of bed, pulled on his boxers, and padded out of the room, leaving Jin without so much as a backward glance. He still felt numb inside, and dirty; he moved mechanically through his morning bathroom ritual and stumbled into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee brewing. "Filters," he muttered. "Where in the name of the gods..."
"Cabinet above the sink." Jin stood in the hallway, stark naked, half-erect still, with his arms crossed and a strange expression on his face. Maybe I should back off a little. Maybe he doesn't trust me yet. The thought was painful, but it came to him anyway. What else was he to believe, after all? He refused to consider that Hwoarang had shared his body just for the sex. No... it was something else causing this distance. Whatever it was, Jin figured that he'd better respect it... at least for now. He watched his lover carefully, haunted nonetheless as he was by the turmoil in those eyes. The silence was deafening but he couldn't quite decide what else to say, not when this weighed so heavily on his mind.
It was Hwoarang who broke the quiet, leaning against the fridge with both hands wrapped around a steaming mug of fresh java. "What was up with Tora last night?" he asked in an almost conversational tone.
"Beats me," Jin grumbled, uncrossing his arms self-consciously.
"She sure did!" the Korean grinned, standing a little straighter. "Does she beat you often?"
Is he teasing me? Jin didn't know whether to be amused or relieved or what. "Only when she catches me by surprise, or I'm having a bad day," he replied honestly. He felt a smile sneaking onto his own face. "I heard that she almost beat you once already."
Hwoarang almost choked on his coffee. "Not even close. It was a long time since I fought last, even sparring. Hell. I haven't even been practicing. Maybe she was holding her own at first, but there at the end-"
"I believe you, I swear," Jin said with a straight face. Then ruined it by chortling behind a hand. "Well, what do you do then, between drinking cheap vodka at posh nightclubs and taking classes? Where do you live? Do you have a job?" He winced internally. Great, first you're pushy, then you're nosy. Keep at it.
Oddly, the Korean seemed glad to speak of these things, briefly even. In truth he was just glad to not be discussing his nightmares. "If you must know, I have a barebones dorm I share with some crazy pimp wannabe. He's always trying to get me to have a threesome with him and this French girl- ehem. Anyway. What else is there to do but drink and take classes? Play video games, of course, always that. But... no... I don't have a job, unless you consider banging around on a guitar for loose change downtown a job. My financial needs are secure from the winnings at the Tournament- yes, yes, I invested most of it, did the blasted responsible thing and I'm still regretting it- so I don't really need a job." The redhead put his coffee down and tilted his head at Jin from across the room. "I still want a rematch, you know," he said blandly.
"What kind of rematch?" Jin countered, with a suggestive wink.
"Oh nothing," Hwoarang smirked. He realized he shouldn't be so gleeful- after all, his boxers did nothing to hide his arousal either- but it was hard not to be. In between getting out of bed and this very moment, he'd all but forgotten that he'd had the dream at all.
Hwoarang had lots of practice shoving things out of his mind.
A/N: Hey. Does anyone know why the asteriks are suddenly refusing to show when I upload chapters? I use Notepad to write on, save everything as .txt files, for reference... Until I figure this out, thoughts will be denoted with the thingy.
A/N 2: If you have any questions about things you'd like cleared up in future chapters- or any suggestions, ect, review away and make note of it. I do read the reviews (gives me a nice warm glow from my ears to my toes, hehe) before I update, sometimes by an hour, sometimes by as much of a day. But if I see a question or anything, I'll make a response. Promise.
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Hwoarang's eyes were open several minutes before he realized he was awake. The gray pre-dawn light squeezing in under Jin's door had a ghostly cast to it, almost as though it were an intrusion of his private nightmare into reality. He shook the thought from him, blinking, and remembered in a rush the events of the last night. So much has happened... so much changed... It required too much energy to think about for now... he refused to dispel the sleepy haze and let doubts and worries rush in.
"Hwoarang." Jin's low voice brought his guest's attention back immediately. "Are you awake?"
"Yeah," the redhead muttered. He turned his head away from his lover for a long moment, trying to scrape up some reaction beyond relief, but he couldn't even summon a moment of happiness that his fingers now registered Jin's laced in them.
Jin bit his lip, wondering how to bring up the necessary topic. "We need to talk."
"Can't it wait?" Hwoarang still wasn't looking at him.
The Japanese frowned at the back of his head. "Of course it can." He slipped his hands around his love's waist and pulled him close. "But if you're hoping I can just let this go... well... I can't," he added bluntly. The Korean stiffened in his arms. Well... at least he's looking at me now, Jin thought. Even if those dark eyes were full of such intense emotions that he could barely meet their gaze. "I'm worried about you," he admitted quietly.
"I must have been in a bad way last night-" Hwoarang began, if you're pushing the issue like this, but didn't finish his thought aloud. "You didn't want to talk about it last night," he observed instead, almost accusingly.
Jin nodded once. "That's right. I thought that things would be too fresh in your mind still, and... hey now, don't think you can distract me so easily, dammit!" He took hold of both of Hwoarang's errant hands, blushing furiously. His skin tingled where those naughty fingers had passed.
The Korean's smile faded. "I don't want to think about it, much less talk about it," he mumbled miserably. He pulled his hands free and sat up, scrubbing at the corners of his eyes.
"Last night, you said something about the demon."
Hwoarang's hands froze in place at the carefully offhand remark. Remembered fears and helpless rage and disgust swelled in him and he almost growled out the words: "I don't want to talk about it right now. Maybe not ever." He got out of bed, pulled on his boxers, and padded out of the room, leaving Jin without so much as a backward glance. He still felt numb inside, and dirty; he moved mechanically through his morning bathroom ritual and stumbled into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee brewing. "Filters," he muttered. "Where in the name of the gods..."
"Cabinet above the sink." Jin stood in the hallway, stark naked, half-erect still, with his arms crossed and a strange expression on his face. Maybe I should back off a little. Maybe he doesn't trust me yet. The thought was painful, but it came to him anyway. What else was he to believe, after all? He refused to consider that Hwoarang had shared his body just for the sex. No... it was something else causing this distance. Whatever it was, Jin figured that he'd better respect it... at least for now. He watched his lover carefully, haunted nonetheless as he was by the turmoil in those eyes. The silence was deafening but he couldn't quite decide what else to say, not when this weighed so heavily on his mind.
It was Hwoarang who broke the quiet, leaning against the fridge with both hands wrapped around a steaming mug of fresh java. "What was up with Tora last night?" he asked in an almost conversational tone.
"Beats me," Jin grumbled, uncrossing his arms self-consciously.
"She sure did!" the Korean grinned, standing a little straighter. "Does she beat you often?"
Is he teasing me? Jin didn't know whether to be amused or relieved or what. "Only when she catches me by surprise, or I'm having a bad day," he replied honestly. He felt a smile sneaking onto his own face. "I heard that she almost beat you once already."
Hwoarang almost choked on his coffee. "Not even close. It was a long time since I fought last, even sparring. Hell. I haven't even been practicing. Maybe she was holding her own at first, but there at the end-"
"I believe you, I swear," Jin said with a straight face. Then ruined it by chortling behind a hand. "Well, what do you do then, between drinking cheap vodka at posh nightclubs and taking classes? Where do you live? Do you have a job?" He winced internally. Great, first you're pushy, then you're nosy. Keep at it.
Oddly, the Korean seemed glad to speak of these things, briefly even. In truth he was just glad to not be discussing his nightmares. "If you must know, I have a barebones dorm I share with some crazy pimp wannabe. He's always trying to get me to have a threesome with him and this French girl- ehem. Anyway. What else is there to do but drink and take classes? Play video games, of course, always that. But... no... I don't have a job, unless you consider banging around on a guitar for loose change downtown a job. My financial needs are secure from the winnings at the Tournament- yes, yes, I invested most of it, did the blasted responsible thing and I'm still regretting it- so I don't really need a job." The redhead put his coffee down and tilted his head at Jin from across the room. "I still want a rematch, you know," he said blandly.
"What kind of rematch?" Jin countered, with a suggestive wink.
"Oh nothing," Hwoarang smirked. He realized he shouldn't be so gleeful- after all, his boxers did nothing to hide his arousal either- but it was hard not to be. In between getting out of bed and this very moment, he'd all but forgotten that he'd had the dream at all.
Hwoarang had lots of practice shoving things out of his mind.