“You’re drunk!” Xiaoyu screeched in alarm, pushing Hwoarang away, “What are you doing in my hotel room?”
Hwoarang staggered away and fell roughly against a wall. His lips curled into a smirk, threatening to drop the lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. He looked Xiaoyu up and down and slurred, “I’m not drunk.”
“Get out of my room you liar! I don’t like you! MIHARU! Help!”
Miharu stepped out of the bathroom, her hair wet from the shower, “What’s all this shrieking about? Who’s this? It isn’t that Jin guy you’ve been telling me about is it?”
“NO! It’s HWOARANG! I haven’t told you about this one because he’s annoying and mean and he insults Panda and he swears a lot and he hits on anything with breasts!” Xiaoyu growled, glaring at Hwoarang, “I HATE him! Get out or I’ll scream, Hwoarang!”
Miharu shrugged, checked Hwoarang out quickly before proceeding to push him out into the hallway, “Sorry cutie but can’t have no Drunk Korean’s in our hotel room.” The door shut rather loudly and Hwoarang winced. A headache was forming.
He stumbled down the hall, searching his memory for his room number. He looked at the numbers on the doors hoping they would help jog his memory but was upset to see a lot of blurry numbers wavering oddly. He looked at the floor, disappointed to see that it too was moving more then it should have been, but a floor was better then numbers. He hated numbers. Numbers meant math, math meant school, and school meant torture. He kept his eyes down as he rounded the corner; at least he knew where Paul’s room was. Maybe that obnoxious American could help him find his room.
Hwoarang suddenly felt someone knock him to the rustic brown carpet. The person stopped and Hwoarang sat up cursing, “Damn asshole watch where you’re going, bitch.”
The person stood still for a moment longer before continuing in the direction he was headed in the first place. Hwoarang mumbled angrily under his breath and lunged at the person, tackling them to the unstable carpet. He squints through his blurred vision in order to see the face of whoever was so rude as to not reply when he swore at them.
“Hwoarang, get off me. I have to be somewhere… 5 minutes ago.” A familiar voice sighed.
“AHA!” Hwoarang laughed, “Kazama! I thought you were someone else. You know, someone that I could just do in without it mining minininin… Meeneeneen… meanin… anything but if I bashed your skull in right now… The tie would be broked… brocked… You know what I minininin!”
“Broken,” Jin corrected, “Yes you could break the tie right now,” he paused, “But then I’d be really late…”
“Yep,” Hwoarang nodded.
Jin remained silent as he watched Hwoarang forget to stop nodding. The Korean soon tipped over sideways, mumbling something in Korean and falling into a drunken slumber. Jin got to his feet and considered the redhead. His eyes found their way to his watch and he sighed loudly, “I’m too late to mess with you. Bye,” and took off down the hall.
Darkness. ‘Am I blind?’ Hwoarang sat up, blinking frantically, hoping his sight would return. ‘Where am I?’ He felt around himself. There were lots of sheets and two big pillows. He was in a bed, obviously, but where? Were there no windows? He couldn’t see a damn thing and it was frustrating if not freaky. ‘Where the hell am I?’
The lights flicker on and Hwoarang fell back, shielding his eyes and holding his pain stricken head, “Turn the damn lights off, dumbass! AHH hangover… Damn… sickness… oh god… I swear I’ll never drink again… oh god…”
The lights went back out and he sighed with relief. His hands felt around the sheets in a tired search for the edge of the bed. Then his hand met someone’s leg. He pulled his hand back almost frantically, “Fucking Christ! Not so damn close, buddy!” He kicked at the person but they were no longer there. He shrugged in the darkness and continued his search for the edge, “Goddamn it! Doesn’t this bed ever fucking end? Where am I? The friggin penthouse suit? Why won’t you say anything asshole, I know you’re in here… Whoever you are…”
Hwoarang leans back against the wall as he dug in his pockets. He pulled out a cigarette, put it in his mouth and fished around in his pockets some more. Where was that lighter? He could have sworn that he had it last night when he left his room. Did he drop it or put it somewhere when he was drunk?
Someone grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him up. Hwoarang’s mouth opened in shock and his cigarette fell to the sheets. A pair of lips pressed themselves against the Korean and before he could figure out what was happening, there was a person’s tongue inside his mouth. It was definitely a man. Hwoarang gathered himself together, pushed the man away and kicked the stranger in the stomach. “Are you fucking crazy? You damn well be some butch chick or someone’s gonna die!”
The lights flickered back on. After a few moments, Hwoarang’s eyes adjusted and he was face to face with Lei Wulong. Lei smirked and crossed his arms before his bare chest. “Good morning honey.”
“Screw you man! You’re just trying to make me beat your ass before the tournament so you can arrest me! It’s not gonna happen man! I can get you taken away for… Harassment!” Hwoarang said, panicking a little.
Lei laughed cruelly and shook his head, “That’s not why I did it… About that sexual harassment thing… Honestly, ‘man’, who do you think they’ll believe if you have no proof?”
Hwoarang looked from side to side in a desperate manner, “What the hell is going on around here? This is some crazy shit. Aren’t you supposed to be this noble crime-stopping super cop? What do you think you’re doing?”
Lei took a step forward, licking his lips. Hwoarang scrambled back, slipping on the sheets until he hit a wall. He searched his hung-over mind for some sort of plan for escape. He looked around the room at the thick blankets covering the windows and the stumbling cop blocking the door… Stumbling? Hwoarang’s eyes widened, “YES!! You’re fucking drunk, man! I’m safe!” He hoped to his feet and ran to the door, pushing Lei out of the way.
The sweet smell of a citrus air freshener met the young Korean as he poured out into the hall. The lighting was brighter then in the huge room and it caused more pain, but it was one hell of a relief. He leaned against the wall and sunk to the floor, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm his nerves. The number 43 was on the door right across from him. ‘Damn,’ he thought, ‘Wrong floor.’
Slowly, Hwoarang got to his feet, ready to get to his hotel room so he could sleep off the hangover. He stepped onto the elevator and rested his head against the wall of it, closing his eyes. After a few seconds he realised he forgot to press the button, but the elevator was already moving. He pushed the button and watched the doors open. A hooded man stepped inside. It took no thought at all for him to know that it was Jin, but he was too hung-over to care.
Jin pressed his desired button and stepped back. The two boys stood there in the suffocating awkward silence. Neither of the two knowing what should be said. Both trying to play cool as if they weren’t searching their vocabularies for what they could say to break the silence. Both of them growing more frustrated by the second, until finally, the door opened. Jin glanced at Hwoarang before stepping out. The Korean watched the young Japanese, and suddenly a faint memory of a short fall the previous night presented itself to Hwoarang. ‘My lighter,’ He thought.
Cameras were everywhere! Jin ducked his head farther into his hood as he hurried down the hall. There was only one safe place. His room. He cursed him self silently for not thinking of a better disguise. ‘Perhaps I should have shaved my head and grew a moustache.’ He chuckled quietly at the thought.
Someone’s footsteps sounded from behind him. The young Japanese picked up his pace without looking back. Who ever it was probably had nothing to do with him, but he was ready to spring at any moment, just in case.
Jin was abruptly knocked to the floor and his preparation to sprint at any moment was only in vain. He looked up into the eyes of his rival. Bony knees pinned his lower half to the ground while strong hands held his arms. Of course, Jin knew he could get out of the position easily but it would have required injuring Hwoarang, and he didn’t want to be the cause of Hwoarang not being able to compete. Jin looked up in horror as a camera slowly made its way toward him. Panic caused his mind to race. He had to get his rival off of him some how. In only a matter of seconds the camera would have been able to see his face.
He quickly shifted and kissed the Korean’s smirking lips. Hwoarang Leaped up to his feet, wiping his mouth and spitting on the carpet. His smirk was gone. Jin noted that as means of removing one of those irritating smirks. He readjusted his hood and turned back to Hwoarang.
“What the hell!” Hwoarang spat again, “What is this? Gay night? Are you fucking drunk too, or are you just stupid? GROSS man!”
Jin rolled his eyes, “Why did you attack me?”
“Well because you were rushing off real fast and you’d probably ignore me if I told you to stop! All I wanted to know was if I bumped into you last night and if so, did you steal my goddamn lighter! Goddamn it Kazama!”
“I have no reason to steal a lighter. I don’t smoke.” The corner of Jin’s lip curled, showing a hint of a grin. He had never thought just one kiss would trigger such an amusing reaction from Hwoarang.
Hwoarang shook his head, baffled by the beginning of this strange day, “Whatever happened to using good old brutal force?”
Jin’s grin became more obvious, “I thought that was brutal force.”
“Oh shut the fuck up, wise guy,” He wiped his mouth one last time, “Fucking moron,” and headed back to the elevator.
Jin shrugged and continued on his way to his hotel room. That was an interesting little situation. He smiled, shaking his head. Hwoarang was full of amusing little surprises. Jin pulled out the card key and unlocked the door.
Hwoarang and Paul sat in the lobby, playing cards. It was a simple game of ‘Go Fish’ and Hwoarang was losing horribly. He grumbled as he picked up yet another card and glanced angrily at Paul’s hand of one lonely card.
Paul raised an eyebrow, “Honestly, man. Aren’t you supposed to gamble for a living? What’s wrong with you? You should be winning!”
“Go fish is a lousy pointless American game!” Hwoarang flung his cards behind him where a bunch of schoolgirls were sitting, “Besides, I don’t gamble with cards. I gamble with fists. The real area of gambling that hasn’t been taken over by celebrities, drunks, and whore craving accountants! … And you.”
“GRRRR! HWOARANG! There is a Queen of spades in my cream soda! I HATE YOU!” A high-pitched shriek sounded from behind him. He turned around to see Xiaoyu running off to the next room where there was a bar. He shrugged and turned back to Paul.
Xiaoyu’s friend, Miharu, Stood and stepped up beside Hwoarang, “Hi Hwoarang!”
Hwoarang eyed her, arrogantly, “Who let you out of the zoo?”
“RUDE! I’m only here to help you!”
“Help me?” Hwoarang smirked, “Help me what? What could an annoying sheltered little schoolgirl like you possibly help me with?”
She crossed her arms, “I can help you get Xiaoyu.”
He laughed, “Oh please, Miharu! Do tell your genius plan! After all, I’ve only dealt with a million other girls like her and still have absolutely no clue as to what it takes to lasso their hearts!”
“She’s in love with Jin.”
“Aren’t we all,” He says faking a gag, and absently wiping his mouth.
If you want her you’re going to have to show her that he’s not worth it.
Hwoarang’s eyes lit up, “Watson! I have a plan! Paul, man, lend me your digital camera, puh-lease! I am so getting that troll doll back for freaking me out! We’ll see who gets the laugh last!”
Paul pulled a small camera out of a pocket of his leather jacket and he looked around, “Whoa man! I half expected the lights to dim and evil bad guy music to play when you said that!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Hwoarang snatched the camera, “I’ll be back with the goods. This plan is even more genius than Miharu is annoying!”
“I’ll be back, Paul! See ya!” Hwoarang ran off, shoving Miharu out of the way.
Strauss was turned down to a relaxing murmur. Jin smiled at his portable CD player and stepped into the bathroom to start pouring his bath. The sound of water pouring was a nice little relaxing addition to the classical music, but it would be awhile before the tub would be full. Jin took his suspense novel off of the bedside table and sat on the hotel bed, waiting for his tub to fill.
The sound of knocking was heard, but the young Japanese man passed it off. The knocking continued and sounded like it was moving closer to his room. His curiosity was triggered and he got up to peak out the eyehole in the door. To his distaste, a redheaded Korean was going down the hallway knocking on doors. What did he think he was doing?
After a few moments, the knock came at Jin’s door. He stood there silently, considering whether to open it or not. What could Hwoarang possibly be looking for? The Korean was obviously not selling cookies, so what other reason would he have to be on that floor? Surely it had nothing to do with Jin. But would it still be safe to open it? The knock sounded again. Jin inhaled deeply and opened the door. Hwoarang, with one arm up, leaning against the doorframe, smirked at his rival.
Strauss was barely audible but it worried Jin the Hwoarang would hear it and make a big fuss about how lame Jin’s taste in music was. He shook his head in an attempt to shake the thought out of his head. So what if Hwoarang didn’t like it? He almost laughed out loud at how silly he was being. Yeah Hwoarang was his rival, but he didn’t respect the man’s opinion enough to start worrying over what music was playing! Right?
“There you are,” Hwoarang raised an eyebrow, “Strauss?”
Jin frowned, “How did you know?”
The question caught Hwoarang off guard. Jin could see the leaner man tense up slightly as his arm fell to his side and he stepped back, “Baek was a classical SOB. He wouldn’t want anyone to know but he’s dead so it’s not like he can kick me in the head for telling. That’d be pretty messed up if he could. Then again… Look at Bryan.”
Jin dodged out of the way of a shifting cameras range, “Get in here before a Camera gets me or get lost.”
“Wow. Xiaoyu was right about you,” Hwoarang grinned, “You are Hospitable,” and proceeded to step inside Jin’s hotel room a secretive smirk clouding his face as his eyes studied the room.
“Yeah well…” Jin assessed Hwoarang with concern, “What are you doing here, Blood Talon?”
“Came to say Hello.”
Jin raised his brow sarcastically, “Oh! So that’s why you were going door to door! It all makes sense now! Thank you Hwoarang for clearing all that up in such a brief, irritating, and predictable excuse.”
Hwoarang shrugged, “I wanted to say hello to everyone on the floor.”
“Hwoarang. I haven’t the patience for this. Go away.”
“Ok fine! I’m sorry!” The Korean struggled to keep back a grin, “As usual, I have an interior motive.”
Jin sighed, “Ulterior.”
“Whatever. As I was saying, Well I was thinking about what happened this morning when I tackled you,” Hwoarang started, “And-”
“Shut the fuck up. Quick correcting me.” Hwoarang sighed in turn before turning around and locking the door behind him, “Well I got curious. I mean, it’s not everyday that I get kissed by Fatal lightning.”
Jin watched in amusement as Hwoarang eyed him. “Can we please get to the point?”
Hwoarang nodded and shoved Jin onto the bed, “I’m better with explaining things through example.”
The suspicious Korean crawled on top of Jin and presented Jin with a surprisingly gentle kiss. This was way too strange a thing, and Jin was positive Hwoarang was up to something, but he figured that he might never find out if he didn’t play along, so he kissed back. The kiss didn’t last long. A flash of light, causing Hwoarang to sit up, soon interrupted them. He still straddled the shorter man. The Korean began to laugh. Jin looked upon the camera in his hand, but remained cool, almost grinning.
Hwoarang sighed and fell backwards onto the bed, still laughing calmly. “You were great man, but this just isn’t working out. It’s not you. It’s me. Really.”
Jin hoisted his upper torso with his arms and rolled his eyes. Now that he knew Hwoarang’s little game, it would be easier to dominate it. “You’re in that picture too, you know, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but I can write it off,” Hwoarang shrugged, “Besides, Miharu and Paul know I’m playing a little joke on you.”
“Joke?” Jin questioned, playfully, “So then why are you still half on me?”
Realization hit Hwoarang Square in the face and he hopped to his feet, “Dude. Why the hell did you kiss back?”
“Oh I don’t know,” Jin got to his feet casually and approached the frustrated Korean, “‘Interior’ motive, as you would say.” He brushed past Hwoarang and turned Strauss up a couple notches before turning back to the other man, “Come here. Or are you scared?”
Hwoarang frowned and stepped closer, uneasy at Jin’s ease. The redhead watched Jin closely, regretting every blink. Jin felt giddy with power. The Legendary Blood Talon was being played by the mamma’s boy devil. It was energizing and overwhelming. Jin had trouble containing his potential fits of laughter.
The energy dissolved as Hwoarang quickly stole the power back by slamming Jin against the wall, and pulled him into another embrace, only the gentleness was gone. The Korean’s kiss was almost frightening, obviously sore about losing the power for the few seconds. Jin found himself being placed back on the bed, their lips still locked. Jin fought back, deciding not to succumb to Hwoarang’s obsession of control. Jin massaged the Korean’s tongue with his own, not willing to admit intimidation.
The two young men were engulfed by the march emanating from the small speakers and the soft sound of water running in the distance. Hwoarang’s touch was rough but tempting. Jin’s thoughts of it all being a game dissipated the second Hwoarang’s lips left his. He wasn’t ready for it to end. He took Hwoarang by the shoulders and flipped over so that he was the one on top. He played his own lips past Hwoarang’s and to the soft flesh of Hwoarang’s neck. A deep intake of breath through the teeth told Jin one thing. The Korean was absorbed.
The feel of the taller man’s skin enchanted Jin. He wasn’t satisfied with what he had to work with. He removed Hwoarang’s shirt and nipped playfully at the sensitive skin of the chest. Hwoarang’s eyes closed for seconds at a time as he allowed Jin to take control. The Korean tugged gently at Jin’s shirt, his eyes fixed and relaxed. Jin unbuttoned his white silk shirt and removed it with unnecessary flexing. Hwoarang grinned and rolled the young Japanese onto his back, as he retrieved control. Dark eyes followed his every move as he reached for the buckle of Jin’s belt.
The music stopped. The March was over. All that was left was the sound of water. The absence of sound brought them both back to reality. Hwoarang looked at Jin and then glanced at his own hand hanging over Jin’s belt with fading intentions. Jin’s dark eyes flitted quickly to Hwoarang’s face, as he avoided looking at the man’s body. After a moment of gathering themselves back together, they both jumped to their feet and stared at each other, neither of them entirely sure what got into them.
“Shit…” Hwoarang sighed, turning his back to Jin and grabbing his shirt off the floor. “What the… Oh fuck,” He said through his teeth before unlocking the door and walking out.
Jin stared at the door in disbelief, “That didn’t just happen.” He sighed loudly and stepped toward the CD player, but stopped himself, “Uh oh… The bath!” He ran into the bathroom, nearly slipping on the puddle spreading across the laminate floor. He turned the Faucet handles and started laughing, “This is crazy!”
Hwoarang muttered loud obscenities at himself as he hurried down into the Lobby. The picture was downloaded onto Hwoarang’s computer and wiped out of Paul’s camera. He sat across from Paul and tossed the camera to his friend, “Give me a smoke.”
“No smoking allowed indoors, man.”
“Really?” Hwoarang said rather loudly, “I’m sorry. You must have mistaken me for someone who gives a damn. Now give me a fucking cigarette before I distinguish your meaningless existence in ways that would make even Bryan Fury hurl!”
A high-pitched squeal came from behind Hwoarang, “That’s very evil of you to say to Phoenix! He was only trying to be a good citizen by keeping some rules, MISTER! Now you got anything for Xiaoyu? She’s waiting!”
Hwoarang snarled, “She can wait until she fucking rots for all I care! I’m not about to stoop so low as to set up some schoolboy just so I can get a fucking annoying bitch like her when there are a bunch of girls out there and in here who would kill to have so much as a one night stand with The Blood Talon! Get the hell out of my face!”
Miharu gasped, “What happened to you, Mister crabby pants?”
“Don’t make me tell you to beat it again.”
“GRRR! I’m TELLING!” Miharu ran off.
Paul watched Miharu run off and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and slides them across the table to Hwoarang. Hwoarang snatched them, and opened the pack. His eyes softened and he dropped them back on the table. “Fuck it. I’m going for a walk” He stood and took off through the doors and to the outside world.
A song by Aaron Kwok started. Jin grunted and turned off the radio. How was a man supposed to meditate with that stuff dominating the airwaves? Silence would just have to do. It was better for his concentration, anyway. He sat down on the foot of the bed and closed his eyes. Unwelcome visions of Hwoarang flooded his mind. ‘Damn!’ He growled, ‘Why can’t I stop thinking about that annoying redhead?’ Shouldn’t meditation cure such dishonourable thoughts? If not, what would?
Knock, Knock, Knock. ‘No…’ Jin looked at the door, ‘Just my imagination. This isn’t HELPING!’ He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. Knock, Knock, Knock. ‘Shut up, Shut up, Shut up!’
Jin got to his feet and peaked out the eyehole. He shrugged. Whoever it was couldn’t be anything to worry about if they were so immature to cover the hole with their hand. He unlocked the door and pulled it open. It was Hwoarang, ‘Oh now this will REALLY help!’ Jin thought to himself.
The two stared at each other for a few moments in silence, before Jin remembered the cameras and pulled Hwoarang into the room. They remained silent. Neither being able to conjure up any plans as to what to say or do. Hwoarang was wet. He must have been out in the rain. A grin found its way to Jin’s face as he watched the Korean sniffle pitifully.
“Would you like some Tea?” Jin asked, breaking the awkward silence.
“No thank you,” Hwoarang replied, bringing the silence back.
Jin sat down on the bed and Hwoarang found his way to a chair near the window. Jin wondered if it would be too weird if he offered the Korean a blanket, but ended up saying nothing. The two continued to watch each other. Unfamiliar feelings of desire were presented to Jin. Was Hwoarang feeling the same way? Would it be so wrong if… No. That was out of the question. It was… Dishonourable. Wasn’t it? He shook his head, refusing to accept his feelings. But… Would just one night be so? Yes. It would.
Hwoarang’s expression was one of uncertainty. His eyes flowed steadily about Jin and he got to his feet, seeming to have decided on something. A familiar smirk brightened the awkward situation. Jin felt grateful yet suspicious. That is, until Hwoarang said the word. “Taboo.”
Jin understood immediately. It would be a secret. Just one night couldn’t hurt, right?
The two boys approached each other and before Jin could say anything in reply, he found himself in a hungry embrace. A desire that he had never felt before, and definitely more intense then before. As he surrendered to his Forbidden desire he thought, ‘Just one night… Or two.’
Return to Archive | next