**Disclaimer**: I do not own Jin, Hwoarang, or Steve. I do, however, own the Vampire. He’s all mine. STAY BACK!!!!!!!!

Demolition Lovers

Chapter Two - Dildos and Razorblades

By Chlover

It was the most obvious choice on two different levels. It was the first door around the corner that he had gone, and it was obviously not the type of place one would think the Blood Talon would shy from. Jin knew that Hwoarang had probably counted on the fact that he wouldn’t step foot in such a place, and it was things like that, that made Jin glad that the Korean didn’t know him well. Though, one thing was bothering him. What exactly would he say once he finally did catch up to his target?

Perhaps it was best not to think about it. The issue would be dealt with once it arose. Planning ahead of time would do no good because there was no way he could predict that feisty redheads reaction to being caught. It would most likely be anger, but there were so many levels of anger that could easily complicate any plans he would make. So why bother?

Jin walked slowly down an isle full of oils and creams, and what looked like differently flavoured syrups. He kept an eye out for Hwoarang but attempted to not look out of place at the same time. It was hard not to be distracted from his original goal when surrounded with things that were meant to be erotic and appealing.

“Is there something I can help you with, sir?”

“Uh…” Jin looked at the staff member, trying to think of an excuse to get a bit of a tour in order to broaden his searchlights. “Yes actually, my boyfriend’s birthday is coming up, and I’m not quite sure what to get him.”

The staff member, who was only a little older than Jin himself, frowned. “Oh so you’re taken? What a shame. Anyway, What’s your price range and what kind of things does this lucky guy like?”

“Well, price isn’t a problem, and he’s a flashy guy. The bigger the better, I think.”

“Big? Well I can do that!” The peppy staff member was more than happy to lead his customer up the stairs. “Follow me.” They had plenty of rich regulars that didn’t ever like to put a price on pleasure, but most of them were old men or completely radical youths, with the rare dominatrix. Someone like this quiet down-to-earth young man was unusual and quite a treat to the service personnel helping him. That was, of course, assuming the boss didn’t pounce on him first. This time he was lucky, because the boss had already found a new toy recently.

Jin followed, scanning his surroundings for the redhead the whole way. It was no use on the first floor. He was beginning to think that maybe Hwoarang had chosen a different shop to hide in. As more of the second floor came into view, his eyes widened in amazement and he almost wished he wasn’t only there to find someone. Maybe he would return later with Steve.

Just as that thought occurred to him, a glimpse of red hair and green suede chaps disappeared into a room labelled “PRIVATE”. It was definitely him. A relieved smile spread across his face, even though he couldn’t go in there after the man he sought. Instead, he decided to explore this area while he waited for the Korean to come out.

The first things to be seen in the shadowy room, were two mannequins placed in front of an iron plated antique room divider. One was a woman, wearing a Leather body harness, which looked oddly like a more painful version of the bathing suit. The male mannequin, however, was far more suited up. It seemed to be obvious which gender was the most important to whoever set up the display. The anatomically correct male mannequin was wearing a leather “master” harness, with his dildo bound by an attached chastity jock. It also wore a centurion mask, complete with gag, and blindfold. Nice…

Hwoarang found himself being ushered around the room divider, and into the dungeon display. There was an Iron Maiden, a couple painful racks, cages, cells, stocks, impalers, and a complicated looking suspension bar, with chains and rods, and rope. He stepped around, touching a table covered in whips, restraints, sheaths, cock rings, razor blades, collars, and clamps. He couldn’t possibly fathom what kind of people would actually collect all these things. Although, he was sure that the other presence in the room was more or less one of the more faithful connoisseurs.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Loyal inquired, gazing about the room fondly.

“I guess.” Hwoarang turned, eyeing the iron maiden. “Are there spikes and broken glass, or any of that sick medieval shit in there?”

An amused chortle came in reply as the strange man came to stand not three inches from the Korean’s back. “No. Though, there are some quite tormenting enhancements that people may buy separately. Does it frighten you?”

With an insulted scowl, Hwoarang looked at the shop owner. Once finally noticing how close the man was, he leaped away, bumping past the table he had been inspecting, thoroughly startled as a couple objects clattered to the floor, and backed into one of the racks. “Dude, that’s creepy. You’re really acting like one of those spooky old butlers in those horror movies… only younger… And shinier… and… uh…”

“More attractive?” Loyal Smirked, casually advancing on the Korean.

Hwoarang sneered. “I was actually going for cocky, but after that, it’s now one of those things that goes without saying.”

“Cocky?” The strange man laughed lightly. He lowered his eyes down Hwoarang’s body and spoke rather darkly, “Indeed.” He moved closer, closing his eyes as if enjoying the scent, or feel of something. As he looked back up at the dark Korean eyes, he smiled. “You don’t know the half of it, but do not worry, because you will find out.”

Before the words even had the chance to register, Hwoarang was slammed against the rack, and his wrists and ankles were bound. He blinked hard a number of times, certain that nothing human could move that fast. In fact, not a single living creature he could think of could move that fast. Not even Toshin or that space man in the tournaments. But whatever this guy was, what could he possibly want with Hwoarang?

In answering his unspoken question, Loyal softly placed a kiss on the confused redhead’s cheek. Amazing smooth hands glided down Hwoarang’s arms, as the emerald eyes gazed longingly over his whole body. This man was definitely a threat, so why wasn’t he being threatening? It was almost like Loyal couldn’t believe it was happening. He was acting like he was in awe. Was this the typical behaviour of creepy sex shop owners? Was there some sort of secret society that decided to give sex shop owners super speed?

“Mmm… You’re even more beautiful in person…” Loyal paused and frowned at Hwoarang, almost apologetically. “I’m aware that you dislike being bound by anything, physically or metaphorically, but this is necessary. If I didn’t restrain you, you’d probably attack me. If you attacked me, I’d have to defend myself, which would result in my harming you. That’s the last thing I want. Please understand…”

Hwoarang growled, yanking at the shackles that bound his limbs. “Understand what? That you’re a fucking psycho? Oh I understand that perfectly! Why the fuck do you want me in the first place? What good am I to you?”

“Actually… I’m in love with you. I have been for two years now. It’s quite a short period of time to me, so I’m astounded that you’re in my grasp so soon. It was the third tournament, actually. At the time I had an infatuation with Jin Kazama, and so I was watching the tournament in hopes to catch a glimpse or two of him. I did all the research and found out that you would be attending in order to defeat him. I thought that perhaps you had ulterior motives for wanting to fight with Jin, so I decided to keep watch on you for fear that you may be competition. To cut a not-so-long story short, I fell in love, and I’ve been watching you ever since.”

With a disgusted sneer, Hwoarang responded, “That’s fucking great! Not only do I have a stalker, but now I find out that I get Kazama’s sloppy seconds! I feel so fucking honoured! Fuck this. Kazama is here, so why don’t you just coax him in this little fantasy realm of yours, and creep him out instead? I have things to do… like… Get home and drink this fucked up experience out of my memory!”

Loyal moved closer. “Rest assured, my love, for I have no intention of harming a single hair on your body. I simply wish to keep you here until your pursuer gives up and leaves. Once that happens, I will bring you to your own home and everything will be as it was. But I do not want to leave you hanging here with nothing to do to kill time. That would be unbearable, and although this is a dungeon, the last thing I want is to torture you…”

“What… What are you talking about, you fucking pervert?”

“But as I suspected, someone like you will be resistant to the end.” Loyal sighed, slipping his hand under Hwoarang’s shirt, and gently mapping the Korean chest. He lowered his head sadly. “I suppose I came on too strong… Of course, there is something I could do to make you return my feelings tenfold, but that is only suiting for a love slave,” He thought aloud, “And I do not wish to take away anything that makes up who you are… even your loathing of me. But, I swear, you have nothing to fear.”

It was almost enough to make him feel sorry for the creepy guy. Hwoarang watched silently, his jaw set as he refused to respond with anything beyond an angry glare. He was almost tempted to call out for somebody, but not only would that be quite an injury to his pride, but he almost believed those words. Something about Loyal’s voice had a sort of calming effect.

With some consideration, the Korean came to the conclusion that this was not the time to be proud. This was the time to be smart. How could he possibly con his way out of this situation? He was never good at sweet-talking, in fact, the only thing his charm was ever good for was picking fights. Maybe he could taunt his way out? No. It wouldn’t be smart to agitate a psycho while he couldn’t fight back. ‘This is all Kazama’s fault for coming on to me,’ he thought bitterly to himself.

“I know I am acting like an obsessed lunatic, but…” Loyal frowned, seeing Hwoarang’s glare. “This was a mistake… But, if I hadn’t done this, I would never have had the chance to get so close to you. I feel like an awkward adolescent.” With a sigh, he unlatched the shackles.

Without wasting a second, Hwoarang lunged off the rack, tackling the other man to the ground. “Listen to me, you little jerk. I don’t know who the fuck you are or what the fuck you want from me, but I’m not in the mood. I was just put in jail for saving the life of a man I hate, all because they thought I was the one who tried to kill him, and then that man hits on me, and then I run into this messed up shit! You could be fucking wonder woman for all I care, but NOBODY touches me without my permission. Do you understand?”

From that distance, the Korean noticed something he hadn’t seen before. Loyal’s mouth was opened in an understanding smile, and such an expression was more than enough to give Hwoarang a view of those extra large canines. They were the same color as the rest of the teeth, and the same texture. Of course, considering the type of guy it was, and what he was wearing, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise that he would have vampire fang caps. Only they looked much too real.

Noticing that the redhead had spotted his fangs, Loyal clamped his mouth shut, fearfully. There wasn’t much that he regretted, but acting so spontaneously as to shackle the Korean up when there was no threat that he’d run away was an exception. Every now and then his instincts would get the better of him, and toss all his plans into the wind. Now not only had he confessed his desires, that would have scared the younger man away, but now the revealing of what he truly was would definitely destroy all chances that Hwoarang would ever even consider forgiveness.

“You,” Hwoarang hesitated, not knowing how to bring it up, “You seem too wimpy to be a vampire. I might sound crazy asking this, but are you some sort of demon?”

Loyal looked away, his face reddening in shame.

“That would explain your lack of social skills, the creepy personality disorder, and the speed…” The Korean sighed, feeling guilty and pitying the man at the same time, both emotions he was sure he could do without. “So what kind of demon are you? Obviously not a strong one if I was able to take you down. Why didn’t you dodge me?”

“If I dodged,” Loyal shrugged, still not meeting the younger man’s gaze, “You would have fallen on a razor blade that had been knocked off the table earlier, and since you’re still weak from inhaling too much smoke in the fire the other night… I didn’t think it would be wise for you to lose much blood.”

Hwoarang laughed. “You fucking son of a bitch. I don’t see no goddamn razor blade. There’s only a bunch of painful lookin’ dildos and fucking nipple clamps. Falling on those would hurt but it wouldn’t draw any blood.”

Loyal rolled his eyes, slightly annoyed, “If you would allow me to get up, perhaps you would see one.”

Immediately shutting up, Hwoarang obeyed. He stood up and stepped back. In a smooth fluid motion, the other man was on his feet as well, but on the floor where they had been, there was a small, but significant puddle of blood. The Korean, startled and confused, shoved one of Loyal’s shoulders in a rough voiceless order to turn around. As the man did, a reasonably large razorblade came into view, still stuck in his back. It had to have been painful, and it was hard to believe that someone would fall on that so that the fiery redhead wouldn’t.

Blood trickled down the edge of the blade, and dripped slowly to the floor. The tiny droplets didn’t splash when they landed. It was more like they were simply sucked into the puddle. But this blood was thicker than normal blood. It was darker and the scent was stronger. Not only that, but it was strange the way that Loyal acted as though he didn’t feel a thing. In fact, he had smiled while they were lying there. Maybe he was stronger than he made himself out to be after all.

Hwoarang was amazed. Nobody had done anything like that for him before. The guy even allowed himself to be tackled and yelled at without mentioning what he had done until he was asked. Why was he willing to do that anonymously? Was it possible that this man was only creepy because he didn’t know better?

With great consideration, Hwoarang stepped forward again, and gingerly touched the razorblade. “Alright… We seriously have to talk this through. If you really want to hang with me, we’re going to have to lay down some ground rules. But before we do that, we’re going to have to work on this attitude of yours. I mean, you went from a slick, cocky cool dude, to a desperate, lovesick stalker creep… Does it hurt?”

“It’s a little numb… Is it a bit stain?” Despite the worry about the well-being of his shirt, Loyal smiled. He was greatly relieved that this had worked out better than he had thought it would. He paused and turned his head slightly. “Please, tell me about these rules. Oh, and could you pull it out? I do not want to heal over the razor…”

“Ok. Rule number one: stop stalking me. I never go on friendly terms with fans, and I’m not about to make an exception for a stalker. So the minute I find out you’re stalking, or following, or gazing into your crystal ball or whatever the fuck you do, your ass is grass.” He yanked the blade out, as if in emphasis of the first rule. “Rule number two: I don’t know what kind of demon you are, but if you try to eat me, steal my soul, or any of that creepy demon shit, I’ll pound you into oblivion. Rule number three: I’m the boss. If you piss me off, and I tell you to get out of my life, you do it, and trust me; I won’t say it unless I mean it. Now last, but not least, Rule number four: I get discounts.”

With an even broader smile, Loyal responded, “You have my word.”

It had been a little over 15 minutes. Just to avoid looking suspicious, a lot of purchasing had been made. As Jin was busying himself with filling out the form for delivery, since he didn’t feel like carrying all that stuff to his car, Hwoarang walked out of the back room.

For a moment, the two just stood there, looking at each other. One annoyed, while the other braced himself for a string of insults and endless angry shouting. But luckily such a thing didn’t happen. Instead, Hwoarang glanced back at another man who exited the room after him, and nodded. Jin couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, noting the fact that the Korean had been alone in that room with an almost frighteningly attractive man, and both their clothes and hair were disheveled.

“Let’s go,” Hwoarang said, simply to Jin, arrogantly sauntering past and heading across the room.

Jin followed his rival out of the building and into the back street. They walked in silence. Not so much tension was present, as would be expected. Though, there was an air of amusement about the scene. The Korean seemed to be enjoying himself, as if he knew Jin had been jealous, and he loved it. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if Hwoarang liked play with the fact that he was the object of someone’s affection. Purposely playing hard to get was horrible emotional torture for the other party involved, but perhaps that was the fun of it.

Getting into the drivers seat, Jin watched as his companion sat in the passenger seat, and closed the door. “I didn’t know you’ve been in this area before… A friend of yours?”

“I haven’t been here before,” The Korean replied with a grin, “I guess I just make friends wherever I go.”

“What were you doing in that room?”

“Fucking.” Hwoarang shrugged, nonchalantly.

Though Jin knew it was a lie by the deliberate boldness of the statement, it still managed to bother him. He never liked to be toyed with. Rather than feeding into the other man’s game, Jin simply shot him a warning glance, and pulled the car into drive as he quickly fastened his seatbelt. As he was cautiously backing up, he sensed a glare burning two holes in the side of his head. He briefly looked in his companion’s direction to find that he was correct. The redhead was fuming. Quite the moody person he had there…

Hwoarang growled, completely ignoring his seatbelt, and lighting a cigarette. “What the fuck is your problem Kazama? What right do you fucking have to be all bitchy about some asshole putting the moves on me? Who the fuck do you think you are? I admit we didn’t fuck, which by that look, I gather you figured out on your own, but what fucking business is that of yours?”

“You do realize,” Jin started, turning the car out into a busy street, “That in four sentences, you just said ‘fuck’ five times, don’t you?”

“Oh my fucking god! I didn’t realize that I was in the company of Mrs. I’m-a-fucking-vocabulary-genius-because-I-can-count. Lah dee, fucking da! If you got a problem with my language, don’t listen. Is that too hard to manage, bitch?”

Jin sighed, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Thank you for reminding me why exactly I don’t talk to you more often.”

“What was that?” Hwoarang laughed bitterly. “Is it just me or are you sounding more prissy by the second? You don’t talk to me more often because your always running from fights. The only reason I didn’t kick your ass when I first saw you today was because it was out of courtesy since you are probably still drained from the fire, and the fact that you are the reason I’m not still in the joint being molested by a fucking pig. I happen to have every right to be pissed right now because I have had a fucking shit day! And why am I having such a bad day? Because your dumbass boyfriend wasn’t man enough to go in there and save you himself! He had to get someone else to do his dirty work!”

Having expected to be the one to blame, Jin was surprised and found himself feeling guilty for all that’s happened, anyway. He frowned up at a red light and slowed to a stop. “I’m sorry…”

Without any hesitation at all, Hwoarang tossed the cigarette out the window, grabbed Jin’s face, and pulled him into a kiss. After a short moment, he broke away again and grinned mischievously as he said, “Sorry? For what? If it weren’t for you, I’d be on my merry way into the slammer… Plus, thanks to you, I got this really cool vibrator!” He pulled a penis shaped vibrator out of his pants, smirking.

Jin nearly choked, and pushed Hwoarang’s hands down out of sight of anyone passing by. “Don’t wave that thing around!”

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