Lars may have left, but he was nothing if not persistent.
Jin had ducked him for the third time that week before he realized he would need to assign him further away. He wanted to be alone, and Lars couldn't take a hint.
He had adjusted his schedule, introducing random bursts of martial arts training in between meetings. Losing himself in exercise made it harder for the scars - his sin - to claw its way into his consciousness. His hands may have been stained with blood, but he needed to focus on the future. His goal.
He called a meeting with the shareholders to smooth things over and assure them a great return on investment before rushing to work the bag in his office before going to inspect his troops and slide in an intense stamina exercise afterwards. His body was exhausted when he got home late that night, but his scars still felt warm, and his mind was active. He knew from experience he wouldn't be able to sleep when his head hit the pillow. He loosened his tie and decided that a few hours in the dojo might drain him of his strength to dwell on the past.
The next thing Jin knew, he was in bed, dressed in nothing but gold silk sleep pants, and surrounded by pillows and warm blankets. He opened his eyes and looked about, seeing Lars perched in the armchair by his bed. "L- Alexandersson?" he asked, trying to sit up, but feeling dizzy. He hated how his voice sounded small. Like a child.
Lars didn't shift or move from his place in the shadows. His eyes seemed the only points of light as they focused on Jin, narrowing in thought. "What's happening with you?" Lars' voice was missing its usual caring undertone. Its light accent. It's everything that calmed Jin's nerves.
Jin took a breath. "It's noth-"
"Bullshit," Lars hissed and rose from the chair, moving to the window and seeming to collect himself. "But, if you don't want to tell me… if you don't trust me, that's your prerogative. I just…" he rubbed the back of his neck and bowed his head. "I guess I thought you trusted me more than that. I'm sorry for presuming. Sir."
Jin's heart sank. "No." He climbed from bed and stood before Lars on weak legs, unwilling to let him go while he was still composing his thoughts. So many people didn't understand. He'd burned so many bridges. He'd lost one person he cared about, he didn't want to lose another… Jin turned sharply from Lars and shook his head, trying to compose himself ."I've never see you from... behind." "That's not it, Lars. I'm sorry, I… have been preoccupied lately."
He nearly jumped when Lars moved behind him and touched his back. It might have felt nice, but he worried about the scars, the wings, the thorny crown of bone that heralded the evil he was capable of.
As if reading his mind, Lars moved his fingers to the marks that burned in Jin's mind, tracing their path and jagged edges.
Jin forced himself to breathe and allowed Lars to continue, his fists tightening at his sides as he waited for it to be over.
"I never noticed these before," Lars said absently.
Jin opened his mouth, but any protests caught in his throat. Like a statue, he was mute and unable to turn, could not shrink away or shrug off Lars' touches. The cool fingers moved unopposed over his skin, over the burning scars. Jin exhaled a shaky breath and tried to relax.
Lars didn't give up.
So persistent, Jin thought. He was like another who was stubborn and persistent and wouldn't under any circumstances let Jin brush him off. He followed him and made him feel something…
Jin's heart ached at the thought, but those fingers brought him back to the present; where he was, who he was.
And then things shifted.
The fingers were replaced by something soft and wet. A shudder tore through Jin and all he could think of and feel was Lars' tongue. "I…"
"I'll stop if you want, but I think you need this." Lars said against Jin's back.
Jin sighed. "You don't think they're ugly?" he asked.
He could feel Lars' smile and then the suction as he drew the scars in, pulling out the awful feelings and devouring them like a leech.
He wanted to hate them.
He wanted to mope and focus on those scars and the evil that plagued his nightmares again. He wanted to dwell on every awful thing he'd done, but, more than that, he wanted to feel. Feel Lars' warmth behind him, his sure hands as they wrapped around his bare chest, pinching and squeezing tense muscles. His thigh as it pushed between Jin's legs, rising high between them and teasing his manhood.
Jin felt himself crumble. Break into pieces. He wanted it. Wanted it all.
HIs pants slid to his ankles and he stood naked in his bedroom, with Lars worshiping his body with mouth, hands, and flesh.
Jin tried to shift, to meet Lars halfway, but he tripped and Lars caught him, holding him close and tight. A heartbeat went by and then he was being carried to the bed, pressed face-first into the army of pillows that awaited his aching, naked, wet, and needy body.
Lars was hot and smooth behind Jin, his armour having disappeared sometime between the first lick and Jin losing his clothing. He welcomed Lars' penetration, even the warm, accepting tongue that tirelessly traced along the scars. Marks of his hated self.
The scars sent shivers of pain and excitement through him, driving him further to arousal, and shame. His hated self was stirring, taking notice.
Jin could only groan as Lars moved inside him, stroking and licking.
The devil purred in interest, but the sound was muted and seemed far away.
Perhaps Lars was right. The scars were a mark of the past, but Jin's focus was the future. If Lars could accept him with his marks, perhaps he should learn to accept them, too. Jin felt a spark of excitement; perhaps it would be different this time!
Jin moaned into the pillows and thrust back into Lars body and shuddered in release, even as the shame burned on his back. It wasn't shameful. It wasn't evil. It was okay. He could go on.
Deep in his mind, he could feel the poisonous aura swirling in excitement.
It didn't matter anymore, he realized.
The memories were painful, but they did not rule him, just as the devil could not control him.
Lars accepted him. That's all Jin needed to know right then. He sank into soft pillows and gentle slumber with Lars curling up somewhere beside him.
Everything would be fine.
He drifted off, unaware of the muted voice that whispered just behind his dreams.
Maybe it hissed, your new toy would like to feel me. If he likes scars, he'll love the wings.