Author: The Mega-Slacker
Warnings: Profanity, Sexuality-Yaoi,
Pairings: Hwoarang x Jin
Author's Commentary: It's been five years since I started and unfortunately left off on this chapter. After getting 4 reviews/alerts in month alone (December), I finally decided to finish what I started and dare to dream to be a anime fanfic/comic artist once again. So, here is the final revised completed version . Enjoy and of course, critics/reviews are welcomed.
"Denial"
The bottle slipped out of the lifeless hand as the petrified man's eyes stood motionless. The cold container shattered on impact, scattering the piercing shards about his feet, the alcohol splashing on anything within reach. The sound of splitting glass echoed through the man's frozen mind as the pieces resonated through the air, tilting on their broken sides. The rubble of glass scratched against the floor, humming itself to a stop, feeling the emptiness of their once whole selves while the man's soul burst into flames like dry, autumn leaves from eager, scraping memories. Memories that wanted an answer, feelings that were grieving to be settled. With every moment that was remembered, emotions that were recalled, more and more of this young soul began to fall apart. This was the price to pay, for running from the truth and suppressing all the burning emotions. And now was the time to face it, but… the torn man couldn't force himself to answer the question that was engraved in his mind for past two years.
Do I still… Hwoarang asked, feeling the tension in his face grow as he bit his tongue. He continued to clench his teeth tightly, forcing himself to finish the sentence, love Jin?
The atmosphere grew silent the moment he finished those words. The wind thrust against the windows and the bitter aura that swirled around the empty room grew quiet. Time had stopped for the stiff soul and nothing could be heard. The motion of the wind floated along the cold concrete, but the sound had disappeared. The beating of the rushed heart and heavy breathing stood silent as well. The entire world had become still and slowly, the thoughts that drifted through his mind began to stir with an echo. Words began to emerge from the depths of the tattered soul, whispering softly as they danced around the lonely figure. Memories overlapped one another, growing louder with faint murmurs. Conversations mingled with the twirling whirlpool, lingering over the shaken mind as the man's breathing became harsh. Everything ranted aloud, yelling and screaming about the tortured soul, taunting him, begging him for an answer. Then… the tormenting beasts hushed their words as a faint thought came from their master. They wavered in silence, praying for the answer that would let them rest in peace.
"A drive." The man stated calmly. "I just need to go for a drive." The voices screeched into howling screams as they crumbled into pieces and were whisked away, being driving back into their isolated tombs of silence.
"A drive…"
The engine roared vigorously as it forced its way down the dark streets of Tokyo, its every movement commanded by its fiery master. Horns blared as the flying beast screamed past the slow moving vehicles, retaining its godlike speed. It was probably the fastest the owner ever driven the motorcycle, especially down a traffic jam. But whether or not, the man would get into a wreck, or if the police would catch him, mattered very little to him. The only thing that came to his mind right now was driving faster...… and faster.
The world became a blur with the lights smearing across the man's vision as he dodged obstacles left and right. But even the fast course he forced himself to bare couldn't make him escape from his wavering mind. There were points he wanted to shut his eyes tightly, in hopes he could free himself from the questions that floated in his mind. The red head gritted his teeth as he accelerated faster, unconcerned with the direction of his path.
It doesn't matter anymore! The man attempted to tell himself, ripping through the lanes, fighting against the oncoming traffic. The angered driver growled a snarl, his body wasn't going to be able to keep with the tension, he could feel the aching muscles tightening around his rigid bones, but he didn't want to stop. His stressful mind begged to differ though and was left with no choice, but to pull to stop. As the motorcycle purred into silence, trembling fingers pulled the key out of the ignition. The exhausted man collapsed over the bike, clasping his hands limply over his head.
Nothing seems to turn out the way it should. Chaos just seemed to follow his tired body, taking away everything he had, but most of all it felt like he was losing control over himself. The poor, frustrated soul could even remember the majority of the trip and how he even got to his present location. A sigh slipped passed his lips as he glanced up, wondering where he was. The man's eyes grew wide at the realization of the instant familiarity of this place he had driven to. Before him stood a towering school that loomed over him, reviving his trapped memories. The same school that Ling... and Jin went to, the one Hwoarang visited day after day.
"WHY...… AM I HERE?"
_____
A black figure strode down the hallways of the prestige high school, keeping a sharp eye on anything that moved. The rush to the classrooms have just passed, leaving the grand, luxurious space of the hallways to the police officer. The man hid his sneering eyes underneath the brim of his sturdy hat and took powerful strides toward the one particular door that would led him to his destination. The tall man stood quietly at the door, pondering the right moment to interrupt the teacher, and finally raised his hand to the cold handle...… but a voice stopped him midway and caught his attention.
"MISTER KAZAMA! ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION?" A shrill, high-pitched voice screamed across the classroom.
"Yesss, Misss Honda," a weary voice replied in a groan. The police grew a puzzled look on his face as he listened more intently.
"Mister Kazama, I will not tolerate this type of behavior!" The piercing voice cried again. In an instant, a chair scraped against the floor in response to the noisy teacher.
"Hey, give him a break!" A perky voice demanded, followed by the noise of hands slamming on a desk.
"Miss Xiaou, sit down at once!" The teacher roared. Meanwhile, an exhausted boy let out a dreary, painful moan.
"Mister Kazama! Will you keep quiet!" The angry woman growled, waving papers around the air in frustration. A sharp snarl came out of the feisty girl as she pounded her fists on the desk again.
"Quit yelling for crying out loud! You're not making his hangover any easy to get over with you screaming like that!" An irritated sigh slipped passed the teacher's mouth as she gritted her together, her eyes glowing with rage.
"Miss Xiaou, it is not my fault that your friend decided to ruin his life by drinking himself senseless last night and I am not responsible for your friend's idiotic actions! If he was any sort of man, he would accept the consequences rather than complaining about them!" The woman stated bluntly. A scoff crept out of the officer as he made a disgusted look and quickly reached for the doorknob.
"Oh, please! Whenever you have a headache, we shut the hell up! Would it kill you to talk quieter!"
"Miss Xiaou, that is not appropriate language! Perhaps you could learn some courtesy when you serve detention after school!" The dark figure sighed as he rubbed his eyebrows while the girl objected with profanity. When it became clear that there was never no appropriate time to interrupt class, the officer turned the handle and stepped through the door. The moment the teacher laid eyes on the policeman, her anger had transformed into the sweetest face one had ever seen.
"Ahhhh, dear Officer, how good of you to pay us a visit!" The lady said dripping with sincerity as she gracefully made her way towards the strapping figure, "To what do we owe the honor of seeing you here, dear sir?" The man paid no attention to the sudden pleasing woman and let out a stern sigh while his eyes skimmed across the room.
"I am here...…" The figure spoke plainly right, locking his eyes on a certain miserable soul, "... for Kazama." The teacher's attention snapped back to the boy in the back of the room and quickly looked back at the officer with a nervous feeling.
"Kazama? Surely, you don't need him at this moment, he is still in class," The woman said with an uneasy laugh, "Perhaps in 30 minutes, you could dismiss him, when class is over."
" I require his presence now if you would excuse me." The man replied coldly, turning his back on the tense petite figure.
"Oh, but sir! Kazama is struggle with English class already and if he skips out today he'll be even more behind." The teacher persisted, hopping along with the tall figure through the aisle of desks.
"Heihachi Mishima's will is of greater importance." The man retorted harshly. The officer firmly walked his way through the crowd of students, who seemed to part like the sea when he headed for their direction. When the stern man approached the confused, nauseated student, he gently pulled the boy to his feet and guided the distorted boy across the room. The aggravated little woman followed closely behind her escaping victim, growling quietly to herself.
"Mr. Kazama! Be sure that you pay me a visit after school!" The teacher said with a sneer, stalking her prey relentlessly until the policeman slammed the classroom door in her face. It wasn't easy to miss the anger shrill that ripped through the air the moment the two figures in the hall. The officer only let out a slightly tired sigh and continued maintaining the sickened man's balance. Jin plodded down the hallway with heavy steps, not knowing or caring where he was going. This entire morning had been one headache after another. Ling had been pestering him since daybreak, wanting to hear every juicy detail about the steamy, hot spring night. Well, at least what happened after she passed out.
Unfortunately for Jin, though, he had no idea what happened after the three of them had soaked in the hot springs. The poor disoriented man could only remembering playing a few drinking games and a bed...… and a Hwoarang on the bed...… a naked Hwoarang on the bed. A drunken smile sunk into the man's face as blurred memories came to mind. The pleasure only last for a while as reality crept in on his world and the unwillingly soul shook his head clear of yesterday's memoirs.
"W-Why...… has gra-grandfather...… sent for me?" Jin managed say, still staggering with the guardian's help. No response came from the stiff statue as he maintained the boy's balance in his grasp. The hangover of a man exhausted a moan, thinking of all the possible reasons his grandfather could be upset with him.
"Mishima has instructed that you follow every one of my orders." The stern, wooden-like man finally replied. The helpless boy muttered a whimper, pondering what his bodyguard had in store for him. But before the boy could get another moment's thought, the strong bodyguard flung open a random door and swiftly tossed the rag doll-like man inside the area. Jin stumbled across the room, nearly losing his balance until the bodyguard swiftly crept up from behind and restrained the unstable boy against a rack of tall shelves. The two of them collided against the shelves, which created the collective cluttering of tinkering sounds as the guardian kept Jin facing forward against the wall. The dark escort pressed his body against the defenseless lad's back and leaned over the unsuspecting boy's shoulder, breathing daintily on his ears.
"And I'm gonna need to you to spread your legs nice and wide for me." The gloomy, intense voice stated, invading every inch of the youth's sinuous form. Jin's eyes panicked at the mention of those words and let out a violated gasp.
"Hehe, I always wanted to play bad cop," The voice said softly which sounded strangely familiar, "Sorry it took me so long to get here." The stunned boy glanced over his shoulder to find a sly grinning Hwoarang resting his chin on his shoulder.
"It took a while to find a uniform." He continued with a slight chuckle. Meanwhile, the tense Jin murmured a relieved sigh as his legs melted away like butter. The rent-a-cop wasted no time scooping the worn out lad into his lap as he gently collapsed unto the ground. The exhausted youth nuzzled against his love, humming happily to himself quietly while muttering Hwoarang's name.
"Hwoarang... Hwoarang..." The red head let out a quiet laugh.
"Like my name?" A quick nod was given in reply.
"Mmmm... " Jin murmured quietly as he buried his head against Hwoarang's firm chest.
"That was the name..." Hwoarang said softly, leaning his head back, "I was suppose to have."
"Hwoarang's not your real name?" the perplexed youth asked, perking up a little.
"No..." he replied, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette, "Every since I was born and up until the moment I left Korea I was Kim."
"Kim?" Jin asked, lifting his head, "How did you get Hwoarang?"
"I was ten years old," He replied, lighting his cigarette, "It was before my mother put me on the plane to Japan. My mother told me I was leaving Korea for a better life." A deep inhale followed his words with his cigarette flickering an orange light as he continued. "And that I should leave all old things in the past... my life in Korea, my name... and her. Then she told me that my new name was Hwoarang, the name I should have been born with."
"What does it mean?" Jin inquired, draping himself over his beloved's firm, but tender thigh, drifting his fingertips lightly along the smooth fabric that folded over the redhead's legs.
"Doo San said Hwarang means Flower Youth, it was what the followers of Hwa Rang Do, where Ta Kwon Do originated from, were called." The Korean stated in a aloof tone, flickering the ash off his cigarette while observing the gestures of Jin's entrenching fingers.
"Which name do you like more?" Jin asked humbly, tracing his fingers towards the soldier's arm, making its path to the backside of the hand. Silence rang through the air as Hwoarang ponder the question that slipped into the air, fumes seeped from the meditating youth's his lips.
"Neither," The confident rebel concluded, snatching Jin's meddling fingers into his firm grasp, "I think I like Bob instead." A look of horror struck the inebriated youth's face.
"You know, Boy On Bike! Simple and straight to the point!" The mischievous boy explained while pulling his traumatized companion closer his embrace. The dreaded look remained.
"I'm just kidding. Hwoarang, of course! I like the way it rolls off the tongue." The man jested as he enveloped his arms around the disturbed and troubled soul. Jin promptly nuzzled against the warmth of his guardian's chest and delicately draped his hand over the stiff uniform. Fingers lightly traced the coarse attire, starting at the shoulder and sliding down the Korean's arm. Down, down, and down, until the fingers came in contact with bare skin, stopping above the wrist and timidly tapping his fingers on the cigarette, sending ripples. The gentle man glanced up at Hwoarang with his deep, dark eyes, pleading for the cigarette to disappear. The sly boy only smirked in return then took a deep breath of the dark mist.
"And what would I get in return?" the cocky youth asked, closing his eyes and tapping off the burned contents, "It's my favorite habit, you know." The jokester peeped open an eye to find Jin right in front of his face and before he could even pop open the other eye, the burgundy boy was approached by a fierce kiss. A kiss with a hint of Hwoarang's two favorite drinks, sake and his other favorite ingredient, Jin. The Korean felt the heat radiating from his love's hand which gently caressed his cheek and slithered it's way down his neck, slipping into the uniform and exposing a tight, bare chest. And when the kiss ceased, Hwoarang shook his head trying to slap himself back to reality. It was the first time Jin made the first move and not to mention, unbuttoning a uniform without catching Hwoarang's attention.
"You should drink more often," the enraptured red head commented with a laugh, "You're not afraid of being yourself." The rarely dominant boy just pleasantly smiled and exhaled a contented sigh as he rested his head against Hwoarang's tender cheek.
"And I can taste you better..." Jin murmured happily, sneaking his hand deeper into Hwoarang's exposed suit, "When you're not smoking." The new adventurous Jin pulled back the compliant man's jacket, uncovering a tanned shoulder and even more of Hwoarang's naked torso. The bold youth relished in all the exposed glossy skin and nestled his cheek against a firm, flat abdomen. Meanwhile, a daring hand slide it's way up the submissive man's leg, stopping at the folds of the pants' fastening.
"Hwoarang...?" Jin asked timidly, ceasing any movement. Hwoarang glanced over to the object of his affection and shifted his fingers through the ebony strands of Jin's hair.
"Yeah?" he replied.
"Will you come by again tomorrow?" the boy asked, looking away, breathing his warm breath on a smooth stomach.
"Yeah, I'll come tomorrow." Hwoarang replied, keeping his eyes focused on Jin, hoping to get a glimpse of his love's face.
"And the day after that?" the quiet boy asked again, tucking his fingers inside the seam of the pants. Hwoarang draped his fingers over Jin's prying hand and nodded in reply.
"And the day after that?" The crimson haired youth slipped his fingers through the jet black locks of his love's hair and cupped his hand under Jin's chin, forcing him to gaze into his passionate eyes.
"I'll be here… everyday..." he replied, sealing his promise with a delicate kiss, "With you."