The Quality of the Sword (is Determined by the Wielder of the Flame)
Chapter Seven - Steel Meets Flame
Jin had to keep wiping his dripping nose in his kerchief as he entered the dwelling Hwoarang was calling home, all of that spicy food was cleaning out his system quite efficiently. Kazama Jin felt bad that the Blood Talon had been relegated to a run down two story building when he had been staying in the suite provided for the King of Iron Fist Tournament competitors. It had been his fault the Blood Talon was tossed out and left to rot in Tokyo, so far from home.
He followed Hwoarang up to the second story, smiling softly as he entered the place the Korean beauty called, "His space." It had all the essentials Hwoarang would need, full length mirror propped against the wall, a small CD stereo next to a series of piled up music, a host of spilled over magazines, a duffle the Blood Talon had been living out of, safeguarded by a pile of used clothing. Next to it was Jins own duffle, abandoned in the suddenness of being captured by Heihachi.
There was a sand filled kick bag suspended by a chain from the rotting ceiling, the dust marks of Hwoarangs feet around it, showing it was well used and losing its newness. Jin could not help but smile as he looked over the electric guitar and small amp. He did not recall seeing that in the suite, but was sure it was hidden beneath dirty clothing.
Jins fingers slid over the wound metal strings with reverence, as though it was a holy relic. "Do you play?"
"Nah, just collects dust." Hwoarang smiled, sparking a cigarette to life and inhaling the smoke as though offering sacrament to an ancient censure. "Its not much, but for the time being its home." He flicked the ashes on the floor, kicking at the embers with a booted foot to be sure they were burnt down.
Jin looked down at the unmade bed, a host of red disposable cups standing sentry on the right side of the mattress and box spring with no frame to hold it up from the floor. There was a shower in the corner of the room with a see through curtain to protect the creaking floor from water. It looked clean on the inside, as did the toilet beside it. "Its great. Really." The only saving grace of this place was that Hwoarang called it home. That made it as bright as a palace in Jins eyes.
"Your just being nice, but that’s alright…I like you nice." Hwoarang smiled, exhaling from his cigarette. "Let me take your coat."
Jin slid out of the heavy jacket, breathing a sigh of relief to have the burden of it gone. Handing it over, he rolled his sleeves up, his hands sliding into the pockets of his deep brown slacks. The Blood Talon folded the long coat over his arm, settling it over the sand kick bag, not really having anywhere to shield it from the dust of this place.
"So, you live here with Saatchi and Han, you said. Are you expecting them home, soon?" Jin asked with a soft, suggestive smile.
"Nah, they are out making some cash. I don’t expect them till it gets dark…" Hwoarang smiled, moving closer to Jin as though reading the Japanese beautys’ mind. "So, why don’t you come on over here and get close…" He said, tossing his cigarette butt into used plastic cup, those come hither eyes fixed on their target.
Hwoarangs mouth was a never ending source of wonder and desire, thickly exotic and tinged with nicotine, the Korean beautys lips were an intoxication in their own right. Jins hands traveled along his lovers supple spine, fingertips recalling with heated desire the last evenings events. It built a hunger, a fire inside of the Japanese…an ache that only boiled over and made Jin wonder if it could ever be satiated.
Hwoarang rolled over from his side to his back, smiling with contented bliss at the heated session unfolding before them. "God damn, you get me hot." The Blood Talon groaned. He did not want to push Jin, knowing by the careful way the Japanese beauty was walking, he was sore. The Blood Talon could not help but feel prideful of Jins careful stride, it ignited the arrogance in him to know his lover, his former rival, had never been broken open before.
Jins fingers trailed down the front of Hwoarangs chest, tentatively at first but hearing the sharper intake of breath, found boldness in his moves, enough to explore and let his senses overcome him. "Your skin…I’ve never felt anything…as soft as your skin." He purred, his lips trailing along Hwoarangs taut, eager nipple. He could not keep the moan from building up in the back of his throat any more than he could keep the heat from building against his confining slacks.
Jins hands, his mouth..felt so fucking good, it was driving Hwoarang to a heated shiver. His fingers trailed through his Japanese beautys gelled obsidian mane, tugging at the entwined tendrils, eliciting a thick breath from Jin with each harder grasp. His newly broken lover made Hwoarang feel sacred…holy with each moment of his attention. The feeling was new and the Blood Talon hated to admit to himself how much he truly liked it.
Jins teeth gnashed against the bud of Hwoarangs nipple as the Blood Talon tugged particularly fierce at the hair gathered around his fingers. Hearing the Korean beauty suck back a pained breath, Jin lifted his mouth. "I..Im sorry, Hwoa-kun…"
The Blood Talon licked his lips. "No baby…don’t say your sorry…I like alittle pain myself…"
A shiver flew up Jins spine, unable to stop the moan of pleasure Hwoarangs words brought him. "I will keep that in mind.." He smiled, flushed, heated at the increasing play between them. Jin slowly traced his tongue down the line of his lovers torso, licking and kissing a path to Hwoarangs tight denim clad waist. Kazamas mouth formed soft kisses to the thick rising flesh bound in the Blood Talons pants, shifting downward and using his shoulder to brace his muscular weight.
"Ahh, baby…don’t tease me…It might spit at you..but I promise it doesn’t bite." Hwoarang groaned, arching his hips up to the heat and pressure beneath Jins lips.
Jins free hand slid between Hwoarangs legs, cupping and kneading at the Blood Talons firm thighs, feeling how the Korean beauty eagerly parted for him. "Can I taste you…here?"
Hwoarang swore he would leak through his jeans the moment Jin asked him. "Damn baby, you don’t have to ask…" He hissed, feeling Jins hand unbuttoning, unzipping and releasing his length with shivering fingers.
Jin quivered more visibly now, the Blood Talons full, thick length exposed to him. His lover was perfect…and quite…shaved. Kazama lowered his lips to the tip, kissing the swollen pink crown with a sense of alternating chastity and desire. He had never done this before and he wanted to give Hwoarang the same pleasure he had received the night before. "If I don’t do something..right…"
"Shh, Jin-kun…I am hot for every touch you give me…" Hwoarang purred thickly, craning his neck upward to watch his Japanese beauty.
Jin rolled the Blood Talons denim jeans down as he drew up onto his knees before his lovers spread thighs, laying the material on the edge of the bed with careful reverence. Kazamas eyes held Hwoarangs as he slowly tipped his head down, taking the tip between his lips. Jin was mindful, instinctual to slide his lips over his teeth, afraid to tear the throbbing flesh.
The taste of the Blood Talons skin was instant, intense and gratifying. Salty and yet, sweet…it was the perfect balance…and the scent of desire that came from his lovers taut core was filling him, running over like a cup, overfilled. "Hwoa-kun…" Jin moaned, opening his mouth to let his tongue slide along the thick vein that ran the underside of Hwoarangs length.
The Blood Talon grasped the sheets beneath his free hand, the other rebinding itself to Jins hair, tugging till his lover was forced to turn his head slightly to the side. "God Damn baby…I want you to choke on me…I want you to fucking choke on me…"
Jin shivered, his mouth instinctively claiming his lovers length, to the root…forcing himself to breath in and try to loosen the muscles that instantly constricted. He could feel a thick cough coming on from the pressure and quickly released. The Japanese beauty felt suddenly…very inadequate to handle his fiery lover.
Hwoarangs hand unwound itself from the sheets, fingertips sliding down Jins shoulder. "Make your cheeks sink in, suck…while I hit myself off in that hot mouth of yours…" He groaned, panting.
Jin let his mouth slide back to the crown, pursing his lips as hard as he could till he felt the pressure of his lips locking to his lovers tip. These muscles had never been used like this, not since he was a child suckling a candy.
The Blood Talon thrust upward into that enveloping mouth, feeling Jin nearly lose his balance. But he would not be thwarted. He wanted to see Hwoarang writhe..the way he had last night. Strengthening resolve and will to do this, Jin reclaimed his lovers crown with eager desire.
"Ahh, that’s it baby." Hwoarang groaned, thrusting upward, feeling the knot in his gut strengthen, shooting back through him like a recoiling snake. He did not spare the rod, not till he heard his lover nearly gag. He liked the sound…as much as he liked the image of Jin hungry to take him in.
The Japanese beauty closed his eyes, moaning as he felt Hwoarang use his mouth, thrusting with thick pressure…but he knew his lover was holding back…he knew the force of the Blood Talons hips. Leaning on one hand for support, Jin never realized his free hand was rubbing against the thick need buried in his slacks.
The sight was hot. Hwoarang groaned, stilling his hips. "God damn, Jin-kun…look at you…"
Jin shivered, releasing his aching mouth, panting heavily as he noted where his hand rested on the outside of his slacks. Cheeks flushed with sudden embarrassment at the wanton gaze of his lover, Jin froze. "I..I…"
Hwoarangs hand slid down his own slick length, coning his fingers around the naked shaft and thrusting up to meet the tunnel of his tight grip. "Get undressed." He said in a heated hiss, spreading his thighs to give his pleasuring hand a stronger, thicker grip.
Jin shivered, nearly tearing open the button of his slacks, forcing himself to stand and slide out of the confining material…watching in awe and desire as the Blood Talon stroked his own rigid flesh. The sight threatened Jin with that tight knot deep in his gut. Shaking hands steadied him as he crawled onto the bed, not sure what the Blood Talon had planned..but eager to find out. "Its you..who is making me crazy now.."
Hwoarang leaned upward, releasing his hand from his own length, eager mouth overtaking Jins. He felt his lover melt into the kiss, falling victim to the hot, twining muscles, battling for primal supremacy. What he was about to do, was something he swore off. He gave himself to no one. Not anymore. Jin, was the exception to the rule, now, as it seemed he was always meant to be.
Breaking away with a heated groan, the Blood Talon grasped Jins length in a tight grip, forcing his lover atop him. "You ready to ride me, baby?"
Jin felt the hiss leave his lips, his head dripping down as his arms were forced to position just above each side of Hwoarangs shoulders, below him on the bed for stability. "Don’t we..don’t we need…something…wet?"
Hwoarangs long, lithe legs crossed at Jins back, teasing his own entrance with his lovers crown. Jins face flushed brilliant crimson, breath hard and heavy. "No…I want it bareback…I like it to hurt…" The Blood Talons words were so thick, so wanton, Jin felt his own length shiver in his lovers grip. "..you like that thought, don’t you, baby?" The perfect sadist, the perfect masochist. Hwoarang could be both, either…
"No…and yes.." Jin moaned, nearly helpless at the mercy of the battling desire within him. He had liked the way it hurt, that little spice of pain to the pleasure of feeling Hwoarang inside of him, fused to his body. Was there something wrong with him? Was there something evil within him for finding the thought of the Blood Talons pleasure, mixing with pain, arousing? He had no fucking control over himself when he was with Hwoarang!
The Blood Talon groaned, feeling Jin twitch in his grip. Kazama was positioned at his narrow pucker, the crown pressuring the guarding ring of muscle. Hwoarangs hand released from Jins thickness, grip falling on his lover shoulders. "Split me open, Jin-kun…"
Jins back shivered, his hips pressuring forward, feeling the entrance swallow his crown. The corridor was narrow, spasming and eager to devour him…it was maddening and tight. "Hwoa-kun…" he cried out, the sudden intensity jarring his very soul.
The Blood Talon tensed, feeling his core breeched, but only slightly, wanted more. God damn, he wanted more. "Don’t think…Ahh baby, don’t think about it..keep moving…" It hurts. Damn. Damn it feels good.
Jin felt the tension of Hwoarangs body, the heat of his lovers wanton words made more sterling by the sharp breaths echoing from the Blood Talons lips. He thrust himself forward to the thickest portion of his length, an inch behind the crown, the muscle clenching so tight on his flesh, he swore he could not move any further. "Oh God…" Jin shivered, feeling a trickle of sweat bead down his spine from the exertion.
"Your killing me Jin-kun…" Hwoarang tried to stop himself from squirming, from wanting to shift and drive himself up into the Japanese beautys quivering length. "Let it go…baby…your body knows what to do…"
Jin felt the heat spread from his core, the taste of Ozone hitting the air as he closed his eyes tight, trying to block out all the voices that told him to stop, told him this was wrong…this was going too far. "Only…Only for you…Hwoa-kun…" Jin cried out, forcing everything else to shut out but the tight, spasming sensation around his crown. With a sharp groan, Jin thrust past the thickest part of his shaft, breaking open the guarding ring of muscle with one thick, vicious movement that brought him full and hard into his lovers core…fusing them together in that one fluid motion.
Hwoarangs nails bit into Jins shoulders as he cried out with such pleasure tinged agony, it sent shivers through the Japanese beautys spine. They were one, united, joined…the way they should be. And it felt like the Blood Talon was being torn open, turned inside out…the pain was aching, alternating between sharp and dull…overfilled, stuffed with such thick heat. Hwoarangs body was choking on Jins length.
Jin stayed perfectly still, breathing hard and uneven, his eyes waiting for Hwoarangs to open, the Blood Talons face tense and so beautiful it was breathtaking. "Hwoa-kun…" Jin moaned as softly as he could. His lovers silence was scaring him…
Hwoarang felt his core clenching, screaming at the intrusion…he went with that tension, remaining perfectly still, letting his body adjust to the spreading wealth within him. "My body has to..adjust baby..its been a long time..since I have been stretched…" The Blood Talon groaned, shaking. "God damn, you feel good…you hurt good…"
Jin held himself as rigid as possible, drinking in Hwoarangs heated breath, lips searching for the Blood Talons as a thin trickle of sweat dripped down the Japanese beautys’ nose. He swore he felt Hwoarang open to him, swore he felt the muscles ease…the primal instinct of his body knowing his lover was ready.
Hwoarangs eyes opened, amber orbs holding his lovers, claiming Jins mouth in a hot, eager kiss, shivering as he felt his beauty start to move within him, short thick thrusts. He had forgotten how easily he could become addicted to this sensation. He wanted more, Hwoarang needed more.
Jin shook violently as he felt the passage of Hwoarangs corridor ease. The knowledge of what he was doing..what they were doing..making him see through a blood haze of desire. There was urgency, the tightening knot…and this echoed in the arch of his hips. It was almost too good to take, too hot to feel.
"Your mine…Jin-kun…mine…" Hwoarang groaned thickly, arching now to meet the thrusts that were growing in intensity. One hand slid between two frictioning bodies, grasping the pleading, leaking crown and thumbing it cruelly with coned fingers.
"I am yours…but at this..moment…Ahh God, at this moment, you are mine." Jin groaned in a primal hiss, thrusting harder than he had before, feeling every clench and spasm of his lovers walls around him. He needed to get deeper, needed to break Hwoarangs body against him till he felt his crown hit solid wall..
The Blood Talon screamed in pure bliss as Jins tip inadvertently hit against his pleasure nub, white hot flashes of light screeching behind closed eyes. His lovers words were hot, bordering on lewd, feral need…it was too much to take, too much to keep in and the Blood Talon thrust up to receive Jins body…his core a holy sepulcher to house perfection…stroking himself to the rhythm his lovers desire set. This was too fucking good…
Jin shivered hard, intoxicated with Hwoarangs body, his scent, the feel of his lovers knuckles brushing his torso with every stroke the Blood Talon gave himself. His thrusts came swifter as though his body was moved by a force outside of himself, a puppet enslaved to the strings of his primal instinct. "I cant..stop…Its…starting…"
The Blood Talon groaned, thrusting himself hard in counter rhythm to Jins movement, addicted, needing… "Don’t stop…baby…God damn, don’t stop…" He shivered, stroking himself harder, faster against rigid flesh.
Jin felt his body stiffen, head dropping low till his lips were a breath from the Blood Talons. The sensations were overriding him…Hwoarangs body receiving him, tightening and squeezing around him. With a hiss of thick, heavy breath, Jins eyes opened sharply, meeting his lovers gaze..his chest blackening and unseen in ancient markings. "Hwoa-kun…" I’m falling into you…
The Japanese beauty shook violently, his body seizing, his ancestral curse leaping forward, charring his lovers flesh. The heavy knot in his gut unwound itself in a sharp, brilliant flash of Fatal Lightning…heavy ribbons of slick pumping with all its might deep into Hwoarangs milking core.
The Blood Talon shivered, his entrance filled with sudden, hot lava, burning him with such perfect heat…he could not keep himself from the edge…could not hold back…seed splashing through his fingers, ebbing along Jins grinding torso. Hwoarang swore he could not breath, swore the life had been thrust straight out of him.
Jin was as still as stone as he rode the aftershocks, mouth leaning down to claim his lovers with such intense tenderness, such pure sacred devotion. I am…overcome with you….Hwoarang…I am falling for you…
The Blood Talons fingers slid agains the shallow burns along his torso, tasting the flesh that moments ago had ridden hard against Jins body. There was no purity left in his Japanese beauty, not now when Jin had tasted flesh…had taken heavy draughts of sin and pleasure…learned what it was…to need.
Hwoarang studied his former rivals face, the two laying on their sides, facing each other, the heavy soft breath of sleep echoing from Jins lips. The Blood Talon, too, had been tired but he was not going to miss a moment of his lover, not when time would become their enemy.
Jin was the most beautiful sight the Blood Talon had ever seen. That beauty was never lost on him, not even that first time Hwoarang hustled Jin to a fight on the streets of Korea, Heihachis money riding the line. Jin was built solid, the Blood Talon sized him up instinctively the first time he saw the Japanese youth. Solid normally meant slow. Coupled with Jins quiet, reserved nature, the Blood Talon believed Jin may never have truly defended himself in his life. That was the first time Hwoarang was deceived by his own deductive reasoning.
Kazama Jin had taken his time to remove his jacket and watch, loosening the collar of his button down shirt. He took great care to loosen his slacks by drawing them slightly upward, letting the fine material bunch at the hips to give him freedom and flexibility. The Blood Talon had scratched at the back of his neck, jeering insults and snipes to goad the Japanese youth into anger. But Jin remained calm, Zen, as he shuffled his feet in expensive Italian leather loafers. Hwoarang and his street thugs could have eaten for a month from the price of those damn shoes.
The Blood Talon feigned his abilities, wanting to lure Jin into the usual trap, letting him land a few lucky grazing punches, sloppily blocking kicks. The bait had to be taken so Hwoarang could work his skill up, see if more money would be put on the line. Heihachi wasn’t biting and for that matter, neither was Jin. And before too long, the hustle turned ugly and Hwoarang was forced to buck up the level of his ability quickly. Jin countered with equal fury, rising to the Blood Talons skill, challenging the Korean youth as much as he had been challenged. Both fighters bled and bruised in tandem.
After nearly an hour, a record in Hwoarangs book, neither could continue, neither could get in enough blows to end this thing. They were exhausted and the fight was called to a close, that handsome wad of cash withdrawn with a cool snicker from Heihachis lips and a chiding look cast to his own grandson. Jin wobbled away, brushing blood from his nose and split lip, his eye swollen and blackening, his shoulders and hips bruised at the bone, his ankle sprained and blood seeping down from his knees beneath the expensive slacks.
Hwoarang had not faired any better. His face was battered, bruised and swollen, his knee twisted, barely able to bear weight. Cuts and bruises lined his shoulders, neck and arms, his hips suffering bone bruises, torso convulsing to heal the cracked ribs he knew he had. The Blood Talon was sure he had fractured the arch of his foot. It was a pathetic and pitiable sight, both youths limping and grimacing in pain, gathered into the arms of their respective brokers for support.
That had been over a year ago. The Blood Talon had been out of hustling for a week to heal himself up as much as he could. But before he knew it, he was back in the streets, taped up and winded, but hungry for cash.
Hwoarang had played that event over and over again in his mind, recalling every detail, feeling his anger grow and shift to blood lust for the one who had fought him to a draw. Every night for a year, Jins face haunted him, lulled him to sleep, woke him up in the morning. Kazamas essence remained behind with the Blood Talon like an angel on his shoulder before every street brawl from then on. It became an obsession to the Korean, spurring his competitive, controlling nature to an all time high.
Hwoarang was dangerous, a loose cannon, unleashing a level of sadism and masochism in him that threatened to spiral out of control. He could not rest, knowing someone out there could kick his ass. To the Blood Talon, a draw was as good as a loss and he was not having that haunt his thoughts for eternity. He pushed his body, honed his skills, the Koreans street bait felt that angst in every fight. Hwoarang became a money making, injury giving, unstoppable machine.
Do San never agreed with this life of Hwoarangs, had done all he could to keep the youth from becoming another street rat with no way out, no hope in life the moment the body failed to deliver. Hwoarang was always just one broken neck away from the end of things. Do San had wanted better and like a guardian angel strove to drive some sense into the Blood Talons thick head. There was dedication in his student, there was the air of perfection that resonated in equal waves with arrogance. If that could be channeled, strengthened like molten metal tempered into a sword, Hwoarang would discover he had no limits to what he could accomplish. Do San swore he was getting that through to his student until the strings between them unwound, one at a time.
Baek had been teaching his student Japanese, making the youth nearly fluent. They had begun lessons in English as well where Hwoarang had more difficulty than he wanted to admit. The language was broken when he spoke it though he had gotten better over time. It was the reading comprehension that made the Blood Talon feel inferior and after the battle with Jin, anything that threatened Hwoarangs strive for perfection was quickly discarded.
The Blood Talon had taken a continually active role in the Dojang, recruiting new students, most were initiates to his street soldiers. He kept them in line with silent threats. Do San was too good of a man, too pure of heart to be treated like shit. Baek fed them, taught them the art, kept them busy doing repairs and routine maintenance to the sacred space of the Dojang but he could not pay them and they had to make their money somewhere. That somewhere was always the streets.
Baek Do San had pulled Hwoarang aside one particular afternoon, taking the youth away from his routine, instantly receiving the arrogant backlash. The Blood Talon would never admit it, but he was in love with routine. It was comfortable, gave him structure, made him believe there was a purpose to things he could not control. But that day, Baek had been speaking to him about taking the exams required to complete his high school education, that there had been some leads on funding for University where the Blood Talon could shine, could make something of himself instead of preying on the streets, corrupting their homeland like parasites. Hwoarang rolled his eyes, brushing off the conversation, opting for a smoke just outside of the dojang. Baek had followed him and kept up on Hwoarang, trying to get him to see his point of view. The strings had unwound too far, words became heated and silver like the serrated edge of a knife.
The Blood Talon left that night and did not return to the Dojang for nearly a month. It had taken him that long to cool down and realize Baek did have some points, did have some of Hwoarangs best interest in mind. He was willing to give it a shot. Willing to come back to Do San and hear him out, maybe even apologize. But when The Blood Talon came to the Dojang…there was little more than a bare frame of building to greet him.
During this altering event in Hwoarangs life, Baek Do San had gone missing, presumed dead. Strange rumors of a demon from the ancient scriptures were spoken of in whispers on the streets by the senile and most traditional of Korean Elders the Blood Talon came in contact with. He and his gang had searched high and low, sent out word through their connections about Do San and the destruction of the Dojang but never heard anything back.
Hwoarang camped out at the Dojang, keeping vigil for Do San to return. He blamed himself. If he had been there, whatever it was that tore the sacred space apart…that was rumored in the hand of Do Sans fate might not have gotten to him.
Then fate stepped in at the lowest point in Hwoarangs life. Fate was a courier from Japan with a signed letter for Baek Do San. The Blood Talon had accepted it, signed Do Sans name to it and read it. The invitation to the King of Iron Fist Tournament 3 held by Kazama Jin, backed financially by the Mishima Zaibatsu. It was signed and cosigned by Jin and Mishima Heihachi.
The Blood Talon stuffed the invite into his pocket and hit the streets to make the cash he needed to get him to Japan. Serious money was on the line for winning this thing. Couple that fact with his chance to catch up with Kazama Jin for a rematch and Hwoarang suddenly found fate turning a smile on his fiery soul.
"What are you thinking about?" Jin asked, his eyes closed, body still as the two rested, facing each other. Hwoarangs breath was coming sharper from his lips, rousing the light sleep the Japanese youth found himself nestled within.
The Blood Talon shifted his eyes to Jins, watching as his lover slowly parted those deep chocolate orbs. He had been lost in memory, wandering between worlds. "Nothing really, Jin-kun. I thought you were sleeping?"
Jin smiled softly. He knew Hwoarang was guarding himself from the intrusive question. "We don’t have much left of the afternoon…I didn’t want to fall asleep anyway, not when I don’t know when I can see you again."
"I know. This sucks." Hwoarang shifted to the side of the bed, grasping up the denim jeans Jin had so skillfully removed from his body earlier. He slid them on, running his fingers through his coppery mane.
Jin sat up, his fingers reaching to trace along his lovers back, noticing for the first time how scarred the skin was there. The Japanese youth winced as he let his fingertips trace the old wounds, his heart sinking with the reality of Hwoarangs difficult life. He wanted to wipe it all away, wanted to make the skin smooth with his touch. "Yes, it does, Hwoa-kun…but we will find a way. Somehow."
Hwoarang smiled softly to himself. Jin had faith. So, he forced himself to pretend he did as well. Reality was a bitch. "Yeah, we will." He turned softly, his knees braced to the mattress as he leaned in to taste Jins mouth…thirsty for the elixir that calmed his soul, filled his heart with peace.
Jin met the heat of the kiss, his fingers entwining with Hwoarangs, letting himself fall back onto the bed, his lover sliding atop him. This was bliss, cold mountain water raging over a wild fire. The Blood Talon bolted upward, suddenly, looking over his shoulder.
"Shit. They’re back." Hwoarang groaned, amber eyes turning to Jin. He thought he had heard voices a moment ago, but dismissed it, lost as he was in his own thoughts of the lovers’ diminishing afternoon.
Jins eyes widened as Hwoarang slid off of him, grasping his shirt and sliding it on, tossing Jins clothes up onto the bed. "What are we going to do?" Kazama asked in a panic, sliding his clothing on with record speed as the Blood Talon tossed a flurry of shoes in his direction. He slid on his loafers, brushing his fingers through his hair.
"If we want to get out of this, we are going to have to have to fight." The Blood Talon said with a hiss, cursing himself once more for being caught off guard. He had no where to hide Jin and he could not get caught with his rival in bed. He could not get caught with any man, even his beauty…in his bed. It would be the end of things if his street soldiers believed buru-bo-i or "fag" was leading the gang.
Hwoarang pushed his rival out onto the sidewalk, scattering Han and Saatchi as they paused on the corner, smoking a cigarette. This was not what the Blood Talon wanted to do, but what he had to do…he had no intentions of the rematch going this way.
Jin fell back, catching his footing in stance, waiting for Hwoarang to rush at him, like he had said he would. The Blood Talon did not let him down.
"What’s the matter, Kazama, tired already?" He hissed, rushing in with a step behind side kick which Jin easily blocked. "You came looking for a fucking fight, don’t back up on me now." Hwoarang smiled as Jin blocked, spinning around with a rusty knife hand.
Jin captured the Blood Talons hand, drawing him in against his muscular frame for a reverse throw. Hwoarang landed on his feet just to the side of Jin. "Is that all you have? You have to be fucking kidding me."
"I told you…I am not here to start trouble…I came to find you…to tell you about the roster…its going to be..posted.." Jin stumbled to find his words. Lies did not become him and he was horrible at it.
"Too late now, Kazama. We got ourselves a match right here." Hwoarang hissed, that competitive edge creeping up in his voice. He fell into right flamingo, his leg shooting outward with a series of fast kicks, only some of which Jin was prepared to counter.
The Blood Talons foot caught him on the side, sending a hissed breath outward as he grasped the offending ankle, swinging for the next flurry and forced the Blood Talon to flip over, landing on his hands in push up position.
Han and Saatchi rushed over to Hwoarang, having never seen their fearless leader so exhausted. "Get the fuck off of me!" The Blood Talon cursed, coming to a stand, brushing his legs off, staring at Jin with deadly intent. Competition was outweighing desire and he felt it.
Jin felt it too, turning. "We will finish this at the Tournament."
As Kazama began to walk away, Hwoarang was already rushing toward him. He sidestepped as the Blood Talon skid to a stop, his face flushed, eyes intent. "We finish it now!"
With that, Hwoarang came in for the roll and choke, sweeping Jins legs from under him, smashing his lover to the ground. The move was carefully planted, even in the Blood Talons heated state of mind…hands coming around Jins throat as he leaned down in a whisper cloaked as a spirit shout. "Subway, first stop."
Jin thrust Hwoarang off of him, his hand raising to rub the pressure that a moment ago had nearly constricted his breathing. He stumbled off, letting Hwoarang appear to be the victor in the planned match, walking up to the East Shinjuku station as the Blood Talon was greeted by praise from his soldiers.
"I thought I recognized that guy. Cant forget a Jap that built." Saatchi said with a smile as Hwoarang brushed off his jeans. He was there at the Blood Talons side a year ago when the challenge went down and the hustle went wrong. If this was the rematch, the street leader was losing his fire.
"You let him off easy." Han said with a shake of his head. "Not like you at all, man. You losing your edge? We have a lot riding on you making this money in the tournament." His words echoed Saatchis thoughts with startling accuracy.
The Blood Talons eyes widened and then narrowed, snapping him back to reality. He had been distracted, trying to figure out which would be the best way to get out of there and meet Jin at the first top of the train. "Who the fuck do you think you are, all of a sudden, Han?" Hwoarang hissed, stepping up into his soldiers face.
Han glared, keeping Hwoarangs stormy gaze for that moment, long enough to show the fire of ambition in his eyes. Han backed down, shaking his head. His words were puppetry, cold and without meaning. "Sorry, man. Hey, everyone has off days, even the Blood Talon, right?"
"Watch your step, Han. Watch it real close." Hwoarang hissed, removing his keys from his pocket. "And don’t think to ever fucking challenge me again. You hear me?" The Blood Talons words were deadly venom and Han paled ever so slightly.
"Yeah." Han said. He knew what Hwoarang was capable of and now that it was put out there, now that the Blood Talon had seen his ambition, Han knew he was going to be under the zero tolerance plan. He couldn’t take on Hwoarang, not yet…not without more training…more backing.
The Korean youth ran his fingers through his hair, eyes remaining narrowed as he walked away, straddling his bike without a second look back….burning rubber as he peeled out onto the roadway, hell bent to find Jin.
Saatchi shook his head softly as he regarded Han. "Man you must be crazy."
Han half cocked an arrogant grin, not unlike Hwoarangs own. "If I am so crazy, wanna tell me why there were Japanese library books strapped to the back of Hwoarangs bike? Since when does the Blood Talon, read?"
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