*Taps glass*

Okay so!

This chapter is gonna be uhm…spicy for lack of a better word. Not gore for once but uhm…you'll see.

In fact, that's what you came for, yeah? It's okay. I won't judge. I just write.

I forgive you.

Ken felt as if he had uttered those words to himself rather than Juri.

I forgive myself.

Did he though? The ripples of guilt he was feeling suggested otherwise. He had gone too far, he felt. He allowed himself to give in just a bit to his wants. He let her feel him, the way he wanted to be felt. He hadn't done so with anyone since Eliza.

Oh god, Eliza.

When they had gone steady, Ken had always, always been loyal. When he married her, he meant to remain faithful to her forever and always. Marital vows, monogamy, promises of everlasting love. It all seemed distant now.

Like a fading mirage, a lie, mere words paling under the might of action. Ken had known this for a while. He felt it too; he felt how his feelings and longing for Eliza changed, shifting and morphing, focusing elsewhere. A divorce had forced it upon him and time had passed the torch to Juri.

She who now took the throne of Ken's muse.

She who now stood by the bed after sleeping for forty-eight hours consecutively. He could see how she was feeling from the way her eyes were glazed from oversleeping. After Ken had tucked her into bed that night, she hadn't left it except to shuffle to the bathroom, then back to bed to be wrapped up in blankets like a newborn baby. Now she was standing although barely. It was too much to look at that Ken hurried to her side so he could ease her back to bed again.

Unlike the night of the incident, she let him help her this time without protest although she'd still pout. Every morning he would bring her breakfast and some pain medication for the ribs. Watching how she diligently tried to consume the drinkable yogurt and the pill reminded Ken of how he had done the same for Eliza and Mel when either was sick. And his mother as she neared the end of her life. And then his father. Unlike them, Juri hesitated to give in completely, even if he could see in her eyes what she wanted.

It must have been strange being the one who was cared for. She lived to escape it but that side of her, the humane, tender coy side of her wanted this more than anything. Silent pleas conveyed by longing stares. Pleas to be cared for, paid attention to, showered with good intentions and kind actions. To be allowed moments of weakness without danger or judgment.

Ken had given her that much before. And thus, he'd give her more of it. He'd spend his time sitting beside her in bed, talking about stories from his travels until she dozed off, venting about whatever happened onboard the ship or just bringing her discarded magazines to read. On occasion, they'd watch a movie on her phone. Rarely did they broach the topic of her injuries aside from the standard fare checkups.

At some point, it must have occurred to her how exhausted she had actually been. In the evenings, Ken would bring her whatever the few good Samaritans cooked onboard, though he began to miss having a kitchen for his pasta dishes. And then they would eat together in comfortable silence, squashed up on the bed with plates in their laps.

While the final week before the end of the voyage entered its midway point, it wasn't hard to leave Juri alone. But quite pathetically so, Ken felt irrationally protective of her. Worried about some scent of blood in the air stealing her attention away when it was just the two of them. Despite his fallacies as a man, Ken realized that he was being ridiculous and stupid.

The bruising on Juri's abdomen was a cause for concern but she stressed that she only needed time and rest. And so, he relented. Three days passed as she gained more mobility though her ribs would ache, and she'd make that very clear. When Ken went to check up on her one midday, he found her leaning forward in bed, rubbing her muscles, tenderly adjusting her bones.

"You okay?" he asked and for once, she didn't say fuck you followed by an announcement of how fine she was.

"Yeah, I wanna get up. I need a fucking shower."

Ken nodded and approached. It was best not to question Juri, and he didn't even consider it when she swung her legs out of the blanket and placed her feet on the floor tentatively. Ken would have to agree; her hair was becoming tangled and somewhat greasy from lack of a proper wash. Her skin was a bit tacky to the touch as Ken wrapped an arm around her waist to help her stand.

With Ken supporting her, they hobbled to the bathroom. It occurred to him now that he had to do something about her panties, so he swallowed and moved his hand to the waistband of her black-laced thongs, pulling back when she jittered at the contact.

"You can do it yourself?" Ken raised an eyebrow, trying not to get affected by the strong red that spread over her face. She shook her head and willed herself to stand still while he stripped her naked.

And did not look. He kept his eyes fixed on her feet, watching them shuffle into the shower cabin. Behind the curtain, Ken could see her resting her weight against the tiles. Feeling some goodwill envelop him, he quietly left the bathroom. He'd get a shower later.

A few minutes later when he heard the water was no longer running, he inched the door open. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," Juri answered. She had wrapped the towel around herself by the time Ken entered the bathroom again.

It was with affection when he smiled at her. "Good. Get dried and I'll help you take your medicine."

"Sure thing, Father Kennedy," Juri rolled her eyes in jest.

She stepped out of the stall and Ken helped her to the bed. He went to the bathroom then and got undressed, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor. When the showerhead was turned on, he didn't quite hear the two knocks on the door or someone slipping into the room. It was only when the curtain was pulled that he turned around, caught like a deer in headlight with his hands in a headful of shampoo.

He kept his eyes locked on Juri's face only, especially when her towel dropped to the floor. The blush on her cheeks persisted on her face, as sharp as her gaze. Momentarily Ken was expecting some sort of emergency. Instead, she staggered into the shower stall, near as could be. Her eyes moved down, her body leaned against the tiles of the stall. Her expression was tired and brooding.

He got it…right? He fucking understood. He knew he shouldn't.

"Juri?" Ken prompted in some vain attempt to prove himself wrong or annoy her so much that she'd tire of his inability to pick up nonverbal social cues.

It was a common stereotype, the emotionally clueless man. Unfortunately, Ken wasn't as feeble-minded as he liked to be in this situation and Juri didn't think so either. She smiled ever so slightly in a way that didn't quite reach her tired eyes and pushed herself off the wall to lean against him. Her hands were firmly planted on his chest, brushing over the hairs with fleeting, ghosting, warm touches. Their presence was heavy, even under the shower spray.

Against his better judgment, it was about what Ken needed to let his misplaced fidelity snap. Well, he didn't need it; it just sort of came involuntarily. Like a wave washing over his mind to remind him of how long it had been he had that urge itched. That basic, human need for closeness that he denied himself of. Made twice as potent when the object of his affection came onto him. Impossible to resist when she slid her hands across his chest, down his abdomen, and reached out to touch his soft cock, to give it slow, suggestive strokes.

Instantly Ken's body reacted, shooing away all hesitation before he could stop it. He swallowed hard and put an arm around Juri to draw her close. A reactionary shudder shot up his spine against the sloppy kisses, teeth and all, to the crook of his shoulder. Surprisingly he didn't wince at the feeling of canines digging into his skin. His mind did fill with images of wolves and bears however.

When Juri had marked him as hers, she pressed her cheek against his neck, breathing him in. With one arm, Ken quickly washed the soap out of his hair, partly distracted by the hand around his cock while he managed to maneuver Juri against the wall. Her skin was heated and sensitive, he found out when he reached over her chest and gently squeezed her breasts, pinching her nipples. Juri's entire body shuddered, and she let out a throaty groan that gave Ken ideas, for lack of a better word. And he knelt in front of her.

Momentarily, he thought of Eliza and how she hated oral. Always so shy about it but never in a way that hampered their intimacy. So, it wasn't like Ken didn't know how to do it but it was different this time. It was a way to tell Juri that she was wanted and devote himself to her. He used the tips of his finger to part her and ran his tongue over her groin, felt her quiver and mewl twitch at his touches, and when he licked her clit. Pushed a pair of fingers inside of her, pumping fast while she grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and pulled at the roots.

Her hips began to buck and she nearly collapsed over Ken while her cunt clenched tightly around his fingers. It was tempting to just keep working on her until she came but impatience got the better of Ken and he held onto Juri while he stood up and pushed her up against the wall again where she braced herself on his shoulders and wrapped a leg around his hips.

Her balance was wobbly, so he helped her along anyway, lifting her other leg until it locked around him. For whatever reason, he hesitated until she ran her hands through his hair, slicking it back and playing with the longer strands, staring at him all dazed and red-faced.

An invitation.

Ken, weak that he was, took her up on every inch of the offer – and that included grinding hard against her. It included tasting her, listening to her soft moans contrasting her ferocious kissing, again teeth and all. Alien, yet familiar, effective in giving Ken's head a spin, situated between pleasure and pleasurable pain. He didn't know broken ribs and a heart-to-heart would lead to them doing this to each other. Or maybe there was a part of him that was aware of the trajectory of things. And now when they were here, things were clearer.

Ken didn't want it to stop. He wasn't sure he could either. In the end, he just gave in entirely, holding Juri by her knees to pin her against the wall with his body. She sucked a sharp breath through her teeth, a faint grunt of pain croaking from her throat. She never quite said stop though, clinging onto Ken, clawing at him for something else, something more.

He could hear her sharp winces melt under pleasure, panting and softening, increasing in pitch. He heard the noises he himself was making, breathless huffs against the wall behind Juri. Then muffled when she grabbed him by the jaw and kissed him for all he was worth -no teeth, kissed him until their bodily need for air kicked in and they were left reluctantly gasping against each other's lips. Ken had set the water to a modest temperature, but the shower cabin felt hot like he was standing in a firepit.

The source of the heat was Juri; her burning flesh, her warm slit, and her breath scorching against his own. Every inch of her was almost searing to the touch. If this was what an inferno felt like, Ken would gladly get torched. He buried his face in her shoulder, groaning harshly at a hand tugging the roots of his hair. Still, he went chasing for more of it, pain and pleasure, ready for the wave that was fast approaching.

He should consider slowing his pace; he couldn't though, his head was reeling for how fucking good she felt. So he didn't even try, thrusting harder against her, kissing her like he was moments away from dying. Muffled between their lips, Juri let out a shameless, weak mewl, pulling back to ride the orgasm out.

Her nails raked a trail across Ken's back, passing over old, faded scars and new ones, indifferent to the damaged, raised flesh. Her entire body shivered through it and his cock felt every pulsating shockwave. Warm and wet, and Jesus Christ, so fucking hot. Mind-numbing in that luxuriously addictive way sex was. The wave hit as Ken came shamelessly hard with a guttural grunt. His vision almost blackened for a moment and his body was seconds away from giving out underneath him.

Before they could quite literally sink into the afterglow, Ken unhitched Juri's legs from around his hips so they could get out of the shower. She was rather jelly-legged so he had to steady her with his arms – practically hugging her until she gained her footing. In the meantime, the water had become tepid so he reached out to shut it off, eventually stepping out with Juri in his arms. They dropped the prospect of towels entirely and staggered to the bed.

On the mattress, Juri lay spread out on her side. She was careful with stretching as it had already been a challenge to lay down on her good side. Occasionally she'd steal glances at Ken, reading somewhere between amusement and anticipation. As if she was curious to see where this gamble would take them.

Well, Ken cared about her. Simple as that.

An idea formed in his mind, and he went to gather the cushions from the couch to lay them on the floor. With some trial and error, he maneuvered Juri onto the makeshift bed so he could take the mattress and put it next to her. Then, he lay with her, naked and lazy, tracing birthmarks across her damp skin. His back began to sting from Juri clawing at him like a cat's scratchboard, but he remained where he was, taking in the comfortable silence.

"So…" Juri spoke into the quiet. Her eyes looked at him through the disordered bangs of her hair. They looked particularly large like this. Vibrant, filled with life and emotion.

"So?" Ken echoed back. For once he knew what she was asking. But he'd give her the room to say it herself.

"You hate what happened?" the words came out more leveled, calmer than what her expression foretold. Serenity under the anticipation of a rejection.

To this, Ken hesitated. No, he didn't hate it. He was mulling over the long game of this. But hate it?

"…No. Why would I?"

Instead of giving a reason, Juri rolled her shoulder into a shrug. Her eyes darted to the hand pressing right under her bare collarbone. Her lack of response was reassuring. It put their encounter into a warmer context. Like there was more to it than just transactional enterprises.

Carnal bodily needs between two people? It wasn't like that.

And Ken told her this by reaching for her hand, lifting it to his lips, and kissing her knuckles. A gesture she'd normally not appreciate. A sign of worship. Her fingers had gone cold since the shower. Yet he felt the distant residue of her warm, quiet sigh. He felt a hand gently cradle the back of his head, pinching strands of hair. Confirmation then. Relief and confirmation that his affection for her was appreciated as it was requited.

Changes, that was what it was, Ken understood. Far too late, without anyone to bounce back on, he came to understand that all the ache of a marriage crumbling had settled into somewhat warm and golden. Like the time before the wedding.

It just so happened to be aimed at the woman sleeping next to him.

The ship had stopped by many ports on its journey, but the end destination had always been Hong Kong. And it was here where Ken and Juri emerged from the metallic hull, thankful to be on land. Thankful to not be stuck in an iron shoebox. Ken had gotten a bit sick and tired of vinyl floors and the endless wafts of the sea breeze. Thanks to the storm, he could see the water towards the end of their voyage but that just made him seasick.

So he enjoyed standing on solid ground and peering over the few cars, bicycles, and bikes that could fit into the ship. Amongst the masses was Juri, dragging her machine down the pier. Her expression was sullen, and it soon became clear as to why. A white, garish line had been edged into the side of the gas tank. Not deep enough to leak fuel but glaring enough against the smooth black paint.

"Got a nasty scratch," Ken observed quietly with some materialistic sympathy in his voice that made Juri light up a bit. "Is it fixable?"

"Of course it is," Juri bragged, situated somewhere between giddy and agitated.

Ken observed her fiddling with the ignition, then hopped on before she squeezed and held the clutch down. She remained ever as stubborn around her injuries. Broken ribs, gashed gums, and brown bruises never seemed to ground her. Ken had been thinking that she would take a longer time to recover, and he'd been wrong.

Maybe. Somewhat.

She seemed to wince a bit when twisting her body in the wrong direction and breathing too deeply triggered some pain receptors. Despite it all she moved like nothing was awry. And yet Ken looked at her and she followed his gaze while the engine revved between them.

"What?" she asked.

Ken shrugged, smiling at her and not expecting a fuck you tossed his way so he no longer tried to redress the truth. "Your body amazes me."

Juri listened, eyes growing wide, cheeks growing crimson, then stared down at the speedometer of the bike. She mulled over his words, then licked her lips, subtly but fiendishly. "Being so openly hot to trot is strange coming from you. I thought that was my job. By the way, you got a great dick."

Oh. Ken couldn't quite help but laugh.

"Thanks," he accepted the compliment, aware that they had completely talked past each other. "I meant that you heal fast."

Silence under the engine, almost muting the strange sound that came from Juri. She must have choked on her spit or the fumes as she coughed into her hand. Ken caught a hint of a smile under her fist. Elated, he hopped on the back of the bike, wondered about the trajectory of their journey, and gingerly hedged his arms around Juri's waist.

Hong Kong was not one of those places Ken had been in often. For the sake of business or Chun-Li, he'd settle for China. For the sake of comfort, it was whatever hotel was available and accommodable. Now, it was a hostel. Hong Kong had plenty of those for cultural purposes. That was alright. Ken had a few nights of those under his belt from his misspent youth under the roof of a detention center.

During the ride, they stopped twice. The first time was at a gas station for fuel and a chance for Juri to coat the scratch with black nail polish over and over until there was nothing left. They hadn't passed any auto shops, so urethane paint was out of the question. The second stop was dinner once evening came around. Spicy fish balls and dumplings for the both of them. Cheap and filling.

A moment's reprieve came while they walked down the streets, dragging the bike between them, stopping by a pharmacist to stock up on medical supplies. Walking aimlessly down the street reminded Ken too much of Nayshall. The days of uncertainty, then chaos, then uncertainty again. Whiplashed between drone attacks and civil unrest.

He couldn't help but zone out during a gruesome tale of manipulating Mexican cartels into warring with each other as part of a weapon test by S.I.N. from Juri until she nudged him in the ribs. Apparently, she wanted his reaction to the war ending with rival gangs beheading each other with chainsaws and face peeling.

He had no comment.

It took a while to find a spacious hostel that would take them in without question – late at night. So, a few hours from midnight, they finally settled in for some rest. Like the cabin, the room was a shoebox but filled with necessities; a bed for two, a tiny bathroom, and a door. No fridge but they had run out of apple pie, apple juice, and apple jam long ago.

While Juri was showering, Ken was pouring over the clues, documents, and maps, pertaining to their next move. There were questions still unanswered. Like who in Nayshall was getting supplied with weapons? Possibly, hopefully, the same people who took Ken's life and broke its back over their knee. But first, they needed to find out where Belger had his base of operations for the human cattle.

That phrase alone caused the bile in Ken's gut to react violently.

Whatever feelings, he was left with in the middle of his conclusions ended when Juri came out of the shower with a towel slung around her body, hair damp and pushed out of her face. Skin faintly glistened in the neon glow that came from the drawn curtains. It made the fading bruises look all the more gruesome. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked over the papers, slicking her hair back and tucking some behind her ear.

"What's the plan?" she asked and pulled her legs under her body.

To answer her question, Ken handed her one of the notes from Sodom. "There's a human auction happening the day after tomorrow."

"Well, shit and let me guess; you need me to pose as merchandise. Cool, got it," she rolled her shoulders into a casual shrug.

His breath caught in his chest, hitching on shock. "I…"

"Oh relax, would you?" she smiled, tired but genuine. "I got it, Kenshi. I've tried it before."

"Are you going to be okay?"

Juri scoffed. "Duh, of course."

Ken chose to believe her. He had always put faith in her. He just couldn't comfortably put faith in the world around her. Not with this. Not with the dangers and implications hanging over her head.

"In that case, maybe we should do something about the injuries. It might not be the best look if you show up looking like you came out of a cage fight," the words came out with a little tremble while Ken gathered the papers and arranged them in a binder.

"Trust me, there're some evil motherfuckers who get turned on by that. Especially if their canvases aren't loving the color of bruises on their skin."

Images of sadists without safe words or aftercare and necrophiliacs filled Ken's mind. Human imagination had a funny way of sinking its teeth into the absolute worst possible scenario. Not quite with Juri; she could kick ass and crush skulls when she wanted to. But the possibility still made Ken queasy.

He swallowed the discomfort and peeled the towel off her body to inspect the wounds. Juri's bruises were ever so tender despite their color. Her ribs still ached and so did the cuts from the punches thrown at her. Less red; would heal without scarring. Rest and drugs had made quite a difference. They never talked about that night, not even now.

Currently, Ken sat and inspected the scabs; red and sore to make them look worse than they actually were.

Just to be safe he put ointment on them, a stronger kind and the reaction was Juri's body twitching with pain. She snapped her head to the side and gritted her teeth, clasping a hand over her mouth, then the other, when it didn't feel quite enough for the paper-thin walls. Ken sat in patience, until the twitch faded into a mere tremble, until she realized she had cut off her air supply so a strained sob came out muffled.

She would heal even if her injuries were still so sensitive, they ached. The new ointment didn't help the pain; it would just hasten the process. Ken put on new plasters and bandages, letting his hands palm her shoulders when he was done. They sat in silence, letting the ache dissipate to a lingering dullness.

It wasn't quiet tonight. Far from it. Traffic seemed endless and never-ending. Voices spoke outside in the hall. Droning music, partying. A glass shattering. Sounds everywhere – despite the illusion that the world had abandoned them behind the curtains.

When Juri leaned back against Ken, everything was muted and all he could hear was his eupnea and her quiet, painstaking gasps.

He held her until she fell asleep.

I already rated it M so fuck it, might as well go explicit with the smut scenes again.

Anyway; Next time, a human auction.

I'm sure googling the inner workings of such made my ISP put my ass on a watchlist. This will be my evidence in court.