Ok, don't read this if you're offended by yaoi, crossdressing, light bdsm, bondage pants, blood, disjointed writing, bad sex scenes umm, there was more, ah well.

Also a few more notes, On Air West is a real livehouse in Shibuya, I haven't been there but I pieced together the description from several live reports as well as the On Air website. The band described is based off two real bands. The costumes are based off of a tiny little indies band I saw on some site, the band's um, actions is based off the slightly larger indies band Fatima.

Yeah, the Tekken 4 plotline is out. Screw that for now. Also I don't like the direction Ling is going in for Tekken 4 at all -.- whatever.

On Air West

By Poli Almasy

Hwoarang noticed the slight blush on his companion's cheeks as he was led down the brightly lit streets of Tokyo's Shibuya district. While Jin had lived in Japan his entire life and spent his last few years in the heart of Tokyo he had never been much exposed to the outside world of the city. He was still very much an innocent about what life was supposed to be. That there was more to it then fighting, learning, training. As oblivious as Jin had been he was smart enough to realize he was being dragged through the 'love hotel' area of the city.

It was odd how the two boys went from bloodthirsty rivals to content friends. Their rivalry was based on power and now there was little power to be consumed. It was an empty void both refused to fall into. The power was there for the taking after the defeat of the...fiend. There was no other way to describe the horrible creature that had nearly taken both of their lived. Well, it had taken part of it long ago. Raw power was now up for the taking, but no one lusted over it. There was no reason any of them needed it anymore.

While the two were friends there were still some uneasy tensions between the two. Hwoarang figured it was just on his part and his slight attraction to the older boy. The way Hwoarang figured it being bisexual just doubled his dating chances. He tended to be more inclined to women but he would surely make an exception for the raven-haired demon.

His shy innocence never seemed to be overshadowed by the monster everyone knew lurked within his body. That would forever be Jin Kazama's curse and he was the one who had to learn to live with it. Live with the notion he was a violent monster no better then his father. Hwoarang pushed back the reddish gold strands of hair that fell loosely onto his face as they walked together. He had come down here only once before with some girl from the tournament. Ended up she was eliminated in the first round and few people even learned her name. Come to think of it he couldn't remember it now. She had seemed like a normal, pretty little Japanese girl. Much to his surprise when he went to pick her up she was dressed in something that look fit for a eight year old girl, that was, if the eight year old had a bdsm fetish. She had dragged the Korean down to Shibuya just as he was now coaxing Jin along.

Hwoarang insisted on dressing Jin for this occasion. He was not taking the boy to a glam thrash concert in his school uniform, that was for sure. He had to admit the moment he stepped into the nine hundred capacity On Air East livehouse he was thrown into a subculture where he felt very much at home. Well, not that he was a screaming teenaged Japanese girl. But watching the dolled up bands seduce the audience, or die trying, he realized the underlying perverseness to the whole scene. And everything was centered around fetish. From Victorian dolls to bondage whores, it mixed in an air of androgyny, everyone looked female but not so much that you couldn't image the male body under layers of makeup leather and lace.

He wanted them to blend in as much as possible. It would have been nice if Jin's hair was longer but his masculine build ruled out him ever looking as feminine as the men on stage. Hwoarang however, had spent a great deal of time making himself less male, but no more female. He wore black leather bondage pants with crisscrossed straps that hung down to his knees and over that he wore a short red leather skirt. A black mesh t-shirt proved he was in fact very much male as you could see the little rosy colored sections at the location of his nipples. His least favorite part of the whole ordeal was the platform boots he wore. It had taken him a week to learn how to walk in the damn things. They were covered in straps and buckles. Light blue eye shadow was applied rather unevenly to his eyelids, but that's how he intended for it to look. He wore no other makeup, as odd as the previous garments had made him feel at first, he realized he felt good dressed like this. Not like he would go out and do this every night, but every once in awhile it was fun. Like being a kid again. His soft red hair fell freely to his shoulders.

After more coaxing then Hwoarang wanted to remember he had gotten Jin into bondage pants as well, although his were simply black fabirc rather then leather. Finally, by telling Jin his father and grandfater would be fuming in hell if he wore them, Jin put them on. The straps were lightweight chains rather then fabric. They crossed in front then hooked onto the back of the pants. A simple white dress shirt and long black fabric coat was about all else mildly visual Hwoarang could get on the older boy. At least now they wouldn't stand out too much. Other then the fact they would be two attractive men in a room with screaming teenaged girls throwing themselves at boys would be more feminine then they could ever dream. Perfectly normal stuff, that was for sure.

It wasn't as if Hwoarang just suddenly, became like this. Slowly over time he had become more and more dissatisfied with his current life. Slowly he had turned to other things to interest him. Sado-masochism was the first step. It was insane, hurting himself before going to fight someone who would hurt him anyway. At first it was a macho thing, he felt even injured to begin with he could beat them all. No one stood in his way under any circumstance and he had to prove it. As time went on it became, more sexual. He needed to feel pain. It was all he had really been exposed to both mentally and physically his entire life. He was just adapting to circumstance. Over and over he told himself that. But he knew it wasn't just adaptation. He was different. Different and perverse.

Sharply his attention was distracted from his haze of thoughts to the neon sign of the AM/PM store. On Air East was on the other side of the street but they weren't going there tonight. The large red an white lettering on the side of On Air East's side made it stand out. No livehouse limited themselves to the glam acts, it would be impossible to pull in enough money. He wasn't even sure who was there tonight. Well, he didn't really know who was playing at On Air West either. His little date that one night explained to him that On Air West was the smaller livehouse across the street on the third floor of the building across the street. That must have meant it was above the convenience store. Sure enough he spotted the little lace covered headpiece of a gothic lolita girl. She was standing around giggling with a few other girls, most of them in the overly done childish gothic lolita look. A few were more aggressive looking in leather and metal accessories. Shows like this pulled in all types of people. There were going to be five or so bands from what he did know. Hwoarang hadn't bothered to buy tickets ahead of time so they would have to wait until everyone else entered plus they would have to pay more. But neither was really a problem seeing as Hwoarang wanted to stand in the back anyway and Jin was less then thrilled to be there. Lives like this started earlier and ended around ten before the trains stopped and the girls needed to be in bed and ready for school the next day.

The two boys watched as a stream of schoolgirls walked into the building and up the stairs. Hwoarang noticed a pair of frail looking boys go in as well, their slender fingers intertwined. Cute. Had Hwoarang not been hell bent on attempting to seduce Jin he would have probably gone and played with them. A few loud foreign girls went in too. Laughing and poking at each other.

In his broken Japanese Hwoarang managed to get the tickets. He should have let Jin actually order them but he was afraid the little boy might run off on him. His Japanese was decent. Still, he preferred English when talking to Jin, at least then they were both awkward. The other boy didn't speak a word of Korean so Hwoarang all but refused to use Japanese when talking to Jin. They both knew a decent amount of English so communication wasn't really an issue.

"Come on, our turn."

Hwoarang decided to grab the chains in the front of Jin's pants in a dangerously suggestive location and dragged the protesting boy to the door. The door was framed with a oddly shaped black 'w' and red and white lettering that matched that of the On Air East except it was a good deal smaller. When they were inside the building Hwoarang finally let go and headed up the stairs following the small mass of girls. Jin had little choice at this point to follow. When they reached the third floor Hwoarang once again had to start dragging his companion to the amusement of the girls around them.

While On Air West was about a five hundred capacity livehouse there was only about two hundred or so people there. Ninety-eight percent must have been teenaged girls. Hwoarang pulled the Japanese boy to the back of the room, the last thing he wanted was to be swarmed with fangirls. Oh he had seen it happen. Last time at On Air East with the girl. Some band called Due le Quartz was playing, two very convincing male cosplayers had gotten mobbed, hell, the girl he came with took part.

"So, you drag me here, now I can't even see what's going on?"

Jin had been silent for most of the trip here other then constant whimpers of protest. Now with the sudden interest in speaking Hwoarang was a little off guard. He could stay in control as long as there weren't any verbal objections.

The stage was rather large for such a small club. About thirty feet long and twenty five or so feet deep. The ceiling seemed to never come and there was a balcony, but no one was up there. An elaborate lighting grid was directly over the stage. It must take all types of technical training to work something that complicated.

"I'd prefer not to get mobbed by the girls, mkay?"

Jin just smiled, it was odd how his mood swings worked. One second he was a submissive child and the next he was that monster without actually growing the wings to prove it.

"Of course, if they were little boys..."

Hwoarang chose to ignore the remark. It was hard to defend your sexual preference while wearing a skirt and makeup. Of course, Hwoarang never dreamed of himself in this situation either. It was so, traditionally not him. Like he was walking in a daze and he'd wake up and be his macho self again. Secretly Hwoarang wished that would never happen. This didn't make him any less of a man then before. Did it?

He couldn't help but stare at his hands. They were utterly male appendages. Perhaps, if he put on gloves of some sort, he could hide them, make the illusion more real. Quickly Hwoarang shrugged the idea off and focused on the stage. One act entered, the guitarists, bassist, and drummer were all in what looked like antique army suits. The sound was defining. The shorter of the two guitarists started playing out notes with expert precision while the other provided an underlying structure. They both had jet black hair as did the other members of the band currently on stage. None of them looked feminine at all, very clean cut boys other then a few stray pericings. An eyebrow here, two on the bassist's mouth under the painted lips. Other then the makeup, they were perfectly masculine. Not quite what Hwoarang had hoped for.

When the vocalist took the stage it was a different issue. He had soft curly blond hair that fell loosely about his face, a china doll complexion and wore a torn, bloody wedding dress. A large gash across the waist revealing his flat stomach, half of the bottom torn off to expose his leg. Jin's mouth dropped open as the vocalist entered into the soft red lighting.

"So you're telling me, that's a man?"

Hwoarang smiled inwardly. Just the kind of reaction he wanted out of the Japanese boy. He led Jin in closer to the stage just beyond the crowd of screaming girls welcoming the opening act. Normally girls didn't get this excited for an opening act, it must have been a popular band.

The music continued forward in a slow ballad type fashion, the vocalist singing with an innocence, a gentleness. Suddenly the song took off violently and the vocalist began to scream as if in pain. He flailed onto one of the amps and the larger of the two guitarist hovered over him. The vocalist was laying with his stomach on the amp, the other man swung his deep blue guitar over to his back and gripped the vocalist's hips. He made slow thrusting motions as the vocalist continued to scream into his handheld mic. As the guitarist's speed increased the screams from the vocalist became sexual moans. No wonder the girls had been so excited over the band. Hwoarang looked over to Jin in waiting for a reaction. His mouth was slightly agape looking at the scene in front of him. Never would Jin have imagined this. He thought it was just the cross dressing issue, but this, this was too much. Forcefully he made his way towards the exit ignoring Hwoarang's voice calling behind him.

When he was finally outside in the cold crisp air Jin realized he had no idea which direction they had come from or how to get back home. Hell, he didn't have enough common sense to find a cab. He knew nothing of the 'outside world.' Hwoarang had been totally right about him being sheltered and innocent.

"Jin, wait!"

He had little choice but to face the young Korean. It was true, he was helpless.

"Listen, Jin, I'm sorry. I didn't realize the band was going to do that."

Slowly Hwoarang gripped Jin's wrist to avoid him running away again. No matter how much Hwoarang wanted Jin to like the stage show there was nothing he could really do to change the demon's mind. He wanted to find that same personality flaw in another human. And as screwed up as Jin had seemed, Hwoarang had hoped that maybe, the other boy was like him. He knew full well that fanservice got that graphic. In fact it was much better then he had hoped for. But now he realized there was no way to bring out the feelings he had hoped were in Jin, because you can't bring out something that isn't there.

All the control Hwoarang believed he had melted from his mind. He was weak, weak. Fucking weak, this was his punishment. He'd never be good enough never good enough never never never. He'd always be weird. People would never notice this other side to him. The one he though he could ignore. He could push it away and never see it again. But again and again, it would come back. And he would just be weak in the morning. He wanted to be in control every time with a man. And he would fool himself into thinking he was in control. But then every single fucking time he would be staring at the ceiling as someone else dominated him.

How could he lie to himself now? He had taken a chance this time. He had shown Jin who he was. Now he was being rejected. Again and again he would lose. Forcefully, violently he pushed Jin against the brick wall and pressed his lips to the other's. Jin let a muffled noise of surprise and pulled Hwoarang away from his body. Whimpering the red haired boy collapsed to the concrete sidewalk. In blind rage he stood up and ran to the brick wall, scraping the thin flesh of his inner arms against the rough surface. Small dark pools of blood formed in a thousand places along his arms, shredding his shirt and flesh.

Jin was still in utter shock and the sight of his friend raking his arms along the sandpaper like surface scared him.

"Hwoarang, stop! Stop! I'll do whatever you want if you just stop!"

Tears stung at the edges of Jin's dark eyes. He now held both of Hwoarang's wrists in his strong hands. Blood trickled down onto his pale hands, staining the black coat the other boy had dressed him in not an hour ago.

"Do you want to know what I fucking want?"

Hwoarang was cursing and sobbing like an eleven year old who uses every opportunity to use the new 'bad words' he has recently compiled into his vocabulary.

"I want you to fucking lick my wounds, I want you to make me weaker then I already know I am."

His voice was becoming harsh and weak from the screaming. People directed their attention to the screaming boy but after a moment or two continued on never to give another thought to it.

Softly Jin raised Hwoarang's left arm. He was forced to drop the right in order to push back the tattered shards of the mesh sleeve on the left. Hwoarang let his arm hang limply. Jin brought his lips to the tender burning flesh of the other boy's. Carefully he ran his tongue over the open wounds. The metallic tinge of the blood in his mouth was oddly pleasant. Madly he lapped at the blood collecting against the pale skin. Hwoarang let his back rest against the brick. Through the thin fabirc of his shirt he could feel the small darts pressing into his back. When Jin directed his attention to the other arm Hwoarang again attempted to bring their lips together, to taste his own blood mingled with the saliva of his one time rival. It was only a brief moment before Jin broke away once again realizing his previous actions.

He felt sick to his stomach. This was unnatural to Jin. Unnatural, wrong, terrifying, tempting. All he knew was whatever his body and his mind were fighting over it couldn't happen there under the glaring eyes of passersby.

"Hwoarang, I need to get home. Now, and I want you to come with me..."

His voice trailed off but was just loud enough for Hwoarang to hear. He brushed his hair back a bit and pulled down the bloodied sleeves of his shirt. It would be nearly three blocks to the train station and Jin didn't want it to take that long. He didn't want Hwoarang's blood dripping down to the pavement while they walked. Distracted by the obvious blood stains on Hwoarang's shirt Jin placed his black coat onto the surprisingly thin frame of the other. Not so much thin as slender, muscular. But with the feminine attire Hwoarang did look gaunt.

Quickly the two made it down the streets towards the train station. Hwoarang's pace slowed and Jin realized the wounds were seeping blood through the fabric of the coat. As he pulled the coat off Jin noticed that the flesh wasn't just marked by the needle sized points but the flesh had been torn apart. Old wounds reopened, not quite battle wounds but more precisely inflicted scars.

Hwoarang felt limp and once again slid to the pavement. There was no other choice, they wouldn't be able to make it back to Jin's apartment. Like a parent would carry a sick child Jin picked up Hwoarang, he seemed somehow lighter. Rather then go into one of the cheesy looking love hotels Jin looked for something a little more upscale with no avail. Of course Jin had his cell phone. But it was a question of who there was to call. Finally he turned the small object on and pushed in the numbers.

Just the number of someone who had worked for his Grandfather and consequently now worked for him, in a way Jin supposed. He realized he would have to explain his state of dress, and even worse the condition of his friend. Hwoarang lay in a half dazed half dead state against the pale grey wall of a nearby building. Jin had to stand near the road in order to spot the car he knew would be there in a matter of minutes. However he couldn't help but keep staring back at his friend.

It was only ten minutes or so before the car arrived. Carefully Jin once again took the Korean in his muscular arms and laid him down in the back of the black sports car. Now that he thought about it he didn't even know the name of the man who had come to get him. A slight blush took to his cheeks as he realized how suggestive the two boys probably looked.

Oddly the man with his neatly cut hair and suit did not question Jin about what he had been out doing or with whom. He simply got back into the drivers seat while Jin sat in the passenger's side. No words were exchanged and the car was silent other then Hwoarang's hard but stable breath. It seemed like an eternity in that car before the reached the upscale apartment building that Jin now lived in. He had refused to live in his grandfather's large home. Sheepishly Jin opened the backdoor to the car and helped his friend out. Hwoarang seemed a little more together now and was able to stand a little but still required Jin's support. Jin didn't want to draw any more attention to themselves. The last thing he needed was for this to show up on the front page of some seedy newspaper.

They made their way across the grey marble floor to the brass colored elevator doors. Hwoarang still didn't have the energy to complete an entire word and simply chose to hang off of Jin's shoulder. Jin ended up having to place a hand on the other's waist to keep him upright. Unfortunately, a small demure girl was also waiting for the elevator. Jin recognized her as a girl who lived in the building. Her jet black hair was pulled back and oddly she was still in her school uniform. He had talked to her a few times before, her name was Kana.

"Hello, Kazama-san."

She smiled politely undisturbed by the bloody male form latched onto the person she was addressing. Jin felt obligated to return the gesture.

"Hey, Kana-chan"

Jin had always been informal with the young girl who was about fifteen or so. She seemed relieved that she received an answer from the older boy.

"What happened? Did you two get in a fight again?"

That was right, Kana had met Hwoarang before. Hwoarang came over to Jin's apartment every once in awhile in the few weeks that followed the tournament. The two of them seemed to hit it off the one time the girl and the Korean had met.

"Wait....why is he wearing a skirt?"

Her eyes then lingered over Jin's unusual clothing and she noted the eye shadow Hwoarang seemed to be wearing. He was too out of it at this point to notice the girl looking him over and the red head's attention seemed far off. Perhaps too far.


Dumb response.

"Did you two go to a visual kei live?"

Her eyes lit up. Jin was a little confused at the situation before him. The elevator reached the ground floor and he let Kana into the lift first. After pushing their respective buttons, six and ten, Kana's attention again focused on Jin."

"So did you? Of course you did! There's no where else anyone would go dressed like that!"

A soft childish giggle escaped her thin lips.

"I've always wanted to go see what one is like. My parents won't let me. Oh well, maybe when I'm older. At least they let me go to other shows. They don't think I'm mature enough to go to a visual live. Do you think I'm mature enough?"

Kana looked at Jin with a pleading look. Like somehow magically if he said it was alright her parents would drop their hesitations and let her go.

"I don't think I was mature enough for that."

Her excited face dropped a little as the elevator reached her floor. Childish hopes crushed! Ah well, she'd get over it.

"Well, I'll see you later Kazama-san!"

Hwoarang still seemed somewhere between dead and unconscious. Although, Jin had to admit he had no idea what to do with him once they reached his apartment. Clean the wounds of course, dress them, he was good enough at doing things like that. But afterwards he was clueless.

"Mmmhh Jin-kun."

The taller boy felt Hwoarang's face push into his arm as he slowly regained consciousness. When they had reached the correct floor Jin half dragged Hwoarang out of the elevator and down the all to his lavish apartment. He fiddled in his pockets for the keys for a moment before finally finding them. There were two keys on the ring. One for the apartment and one master key for the office building his grandfather had owned, he owned, whatever. Once the door was opened Jin moved Hwoarang to the couch and left the room to look for something to dress the wound.

Hwoarang was finally coming back into reality and managed to sit up on the moderately sized white couch despite the throbbing pain in his arms. A sudden realization he was probably bleeding all over Jin's nice white couch brought a pang of guilt to the young man's features. This was defiantly not what the original plan had been.

It was a few minutes until Jin would return with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some gauze. Trying to apply as little pressure as possibly he cleaned the raw wounds then slowly wrapped both of Hwoarang's arms in soft white bandages.

"I still would have liked it better if you had licked them clean."

A sarcastic smile crossed Hwoarang's paled lips. Yet, there was a hint of truth in the seemingly joking words.

"At least you're feeling better."

Jin let out a sigh of relief. The bleeding seemed to have stopped awhile ago and now that the wounds were disinfected and covered there was less of a chance for infection. Hwoarang still lay on the couch and probably would be unable to stand but he seemed to have little problem sitting up. Sitting half on the couch Jin looked at his friend with somewhat adoring eyes. He had to admit, the eye shadow made Hwoarang's face more feminine and attractive. Forcefully he tried to push those ideas back. It was one thing to look female and another thing to be female. Hwoarang wasn't female in any sense of the word. His personality was probably more masculine then Jin's. Being raised without a father did have its side effects.

It would be lying to say Jin had never been attracted to another man before. But that didn't mean that anything would ever come of it. He had never had a real desire to act on any of those mild, purely physical attractions. But the way Hwoarang was looking back at him now from underneath soft red strands of hair and pale eye shadow. He wanted to act on it. He wanted to but maintained the control to deny those feelings.

"Jin, could I perhaps have some alcohol of a different type? It would dull the pain you know."

Hwoarang knew full well Jin would never keep alcohol in his apartment but made the statement rather to try to regain some of the control he had lost. He had to admit it was somewhat of a game. Placing his words carefully, watching his motions, adjusting to the mood of the other boy. It was an elaborate game for power. But there was more to it then that. Hwoarang had for the longest time, since that first day the two had dueled, started to develop a genuine attraction to Jin. No one else could match the Korean, he had met his match and he never wanted to lose him. He suffered from a mild superiority complex and Jin was what he needed to stay grounded. Mentally they were both complete wrecks. Normally one doesn't go from Mr. Macho, to wearing a leather skirt and makeup. That's not the direction life gently takes you in.

Funny, had one of them was actually born female, this wouldn't have been an issue. Hwoarang knew that Jin must have harbored some sort of feeling for him if he went through all this trouble. And it was more then friendship. Jin wasn't disgusted with the actions Hwoarang had taken earlier that evening, rather he seemed to be thinking about what direction to head in next. This question placed them both in an unusual position.


Hwoarang concentrated intently on Jin's soft words. Searching for an emotion, a meaning.

"I...I'm sorry about what happened..."

This however, was the last thing Hwoarang expected. 'I'm sorry.' He was the one who had thrown Jin into something unnatural to him, he had been the one to show the pure oddity that consumed his mind. This was all supposed to be his fault. But now his innocent friend was taking the blame for his own rash action.

"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have taken you, I don't know what I was thinking."

Jin's face showed no sign of traceable emotion. His voice however was pained, wanting, scared. Jin had become an expert at hiding what he was feeling. Feelings were for the weak. Feelings got him struck by his grandfather, he was being weak.

"I overreacted."

With that Jin stood up and went into his bedroom. He just wanted to get those clothes off. It felt like he was walking around as someone else. Hwoarang felt like someone else in his clothes as well. But that was the feeling he was searching for. To be someone else. Someone who wouldn't have to think about fighting, about everything he had lost.

Jin undressed himself and put on a pair of loose fitting black shorts and a white t-shirt. He was happy he managed to convince Hwoarang makeup would add nothing to his appearance. This was still all too weird. Far too weird.

He walked back into the other room with a blanket to give Hwoarang. It would be best if Hwoarang stayed there overnight instead of going back to the dirty apartment he rented while still in Japan. He might try something, stupid, again. Jin lay the blanket over the weak form in front of him and turned to go back to his own room. He felt a little guilty for leaving Hwoarang alone but the other made no sign of protest towards his actions and seemed quite content just lying there.

"I'm going to try this again one day, Kazama. And next time you'll think differently."

Something told Jin not to look back to acknowlage the voice. Just to keep on walking to his room and go to bed. Ignore the voice ignore it ignore it.

Of course, he ignored the voice in his head over the voice of his injured friend and turned his head. Hwoarang's eyes were half closed while looking towards Jin.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just I'm not giving up on you, I care about you too much."

Hwoarang turned his head away so it was facing the back of the couch and his gaze was directed away from the boy which he was speaking to. An elaborate game that would never quite have a true winner. Vicious sadistic game.

"Come on, Jin, you know what happens now. You jump me, dominate me, and we have wild passionate sex right now. Without question, without reason, because it just feels damn right. Isn't that how all these stories end?"

"What kind of freaking drugs are you on?"

Hwoarang burst out in wild laughter. Almost insane. Still, it was somewhat comforting.

"I have no idea. Some sort of strange strange adrenaline rush from all the bleeding I suppose."

Jin couldn't help but laugh shyly as well. Even in the most bizarre situations a human is still just that, a human.

"You shouldn't get hyperactive when there's no blood in your damn body."

This time Jin let a genuine smile cross his lips. Whatever weird trance his friend had been in he seemed to be over it now.

"I know, I know, but hey, when you're bleeding on the battle field something just kicks in in time for you to win, right?"

Hwoarang still looked pale and somewhat weak but at least there seemed to be life still left in him. He lifted one of his gauze covered arms to pull some of his hair away from his face.

"Yes, I suppose so. And you look like a fucking queer with that makeup you know."

"Oh but you see, I am. That's the beauty in it. And don't deny you liked licking my arms fag."

"So what if I did?"

Amazing, simply fucking amazing. They could talk about this like it was nothing more then a joke. Inside it was ripping them apart. Both knowing something still wasn't quite right between them. Something had never been right between them.

"You don't by any chance have a medical fetish, now do you?"

Hwoarang tried to put out his most submissive sounding voice hand held out is bandaged covered arms in an uncharacteristically feminine manner while his face still refused to meet that of the other boy. Both were laughing.

An unexpected weight hovered over Hwoarang's body and he noticed Jin's hand next to him. Cautiously he shifted his body so he was staring straight in the face of the larger boy above him. Their lips met, briefly, gently. Hwoarang wanted to reach up and touch the other boy lightly but held himself back while returning the kiss.

"Well, goodnight Hwoarang-kun."

With that Jin again left the room in favor of his own, leaving Hwoarang once again very alone, and very confused. In retaliation he slowly attempted to stand and surely enough he could walk. Not very fast mind you, but it was better then nothing. The now lopsided Korean made his way into Jin's bedroom where the other boy was still very much awake. He stood in the doorway just within Jin's line of vision. Jin's eyes met his and they were locked in a state of mutual defiance. Neither one really wanted to give in to the other one. Jin wanted to hold back and Hwoarang would have jumped him right there had the dull, still throbbing pain in his arm not have been there.

"What do you really want from me..."

Jin was beginning to cave in. Slowly, but it was happening.

"Just, could I sleep in here tonight."

Hwoarang knew how to play on the emotions of others. So far tonight had not been his best performance. He was making some sort of progress though, he was sure of it.

Jin lifted up the blanket that covered him as a gesture of submission to his friend's wishes. Quickly, before Jin had a chance to change his mind Hwoarang took a place in the bed next to Jin. He felt an arm wrap around his still leather clad waist and the heat of the other boy's body against his own. It was getting too hot under Jin's soft comforter.

"Mmhm, Jin-kun, I'm hot."

"That you are.."

He was already half asleep and probably couldn't even tell what he was saying to the already aggressive man in his arms. Hwoarang managed to slip from Jin's grasp without waking him and stood up besides the bed. He dropped his skirt and pants to the floor and took off his shirt which was caked in dried blood. Again he mentally scolded himself as he noticed red spots where his sleeves had touched Jin's white sheets. He crawled back into his former position and draped Jin's arm once again over him but this time bare flesh came in contact. Jin's arm was surprisingly cold, odd since Hwoarang had been the one to bleed half to death with self inflicted wounds.

Soft kisses landed on Hwoarang's warm exposed neck. He felt Jin's tongue slide along the skin between his neck and shoulders. A small shudder caught his body as he felt the arm around his waist tighten. It felt so good. Jin lightly traced patterns in the flesh of his stomach. His muscles started to contract at the stimulation.

"Is this what you wanted from me, Hwoarang-kun?"

The voice that greeted him was distinctly awake. Perhaps then Jin was playing with him as much as he had been playing with Jin. Hwoarang could do little more then let out a moan of approval. Suddenly the ministrations stopped.

"Mmh, Hwoarang-kun, turn this way."

He was more then obedient and Jin allowed him to turn so they were now facing each other in bed. Jin allowed himself to trace along the edge of Hwoarang's nipple causing a sharp intake of breath from the owner. Staring into Jin's now quite awake eyes Hwoarang searched for a trace of malicious intent and found nothing but admiration.

"What made you change your mind?"

"Simple answer is I got horny."

Both boys laughed again. Surreal, the night had been so surreal and unnatural.

"Actually I was thinking,"

His attention now diverted to the other nipple.

"About me?"

Hwoarang took in another gasp of air as Jin pinched down on the nub.

"Did that hurt?"

"Yes, do it again."

Instead of following orders Jin moved Hwoarang onto his back and for the second time that night hovered over the other boy. The traces of eye shadow still hung on Hwoarang's heavy lids. This time he brought his lips to contact with skin. He trailed his way down to the elastic of Hwoarang's boxers unsure of the action he should take once he reached his destination.

"Well, I have to tell you Hwoarang-kun."

He sat straddling Hwoarang's thin but powerful legs. Hwoarang could see the other boy's growing erection through the thin fabric of his pants.

"I'm completely clueless about what I do now."

Hwoarang smiled at Jin's current state of confusion and made a motion that could be directly interpreted as 'roll over.' After moving over Jin, Hwoarang again made a motion that was more difficult to decipher.

"Could you just tell me what you want me to do?"

"Take of the shirt you moron."

Jin willfully obeyed as Hwoarang lowered his head to his chest. There were a few things Hwoarang was exceptionally good at, sex was one of them. After playfully teasing Jin for several minutes with his tongue he decided it was best if he didn't use his arms for the sake of retaining some blood in his body.

"Now, off with the shorts."

A light blush came to Jin's cheeks. The idea of being completely exposed and vulnerable was not a welcome one. Hwoarang gave him a look that was halfway between evil and playful. Jin needed no more coaxing after that and almost shyly pulled off his shorts. As if to reassure him Hwoarang again placed his moist lips to Jin's. Before doing anything else he licked his own fingers for several seconds as if to taunt Jin. Afterwards he brought his pale but warm lips to the tip of Jin's erection. His motions were painfully slow and unquestionably talented. Jin's body shuddered slightly as Hwoarang's fingers began to probe him. The boy's lips withdrew for a moment.

"Don't thrust Jin, please..."

His voice was submissive but powerful. It was a request but not an order. Jin tried to hold back as Hwoarang's mouth enveloped him again with its careful motions. Hwoarang's tongue ran against him in a slow deliberate motion that matched the gentle probing. He felt Hwoarang brush against something inside him and he couldn't control his body any longer as he thrust against the fingers. In shock Hwoarang bit down slightly in an attempt to scream against the once again desperate pain in his arm. Pride got the best of him and he allowed Jin's body to impale itself onto his fingers. He tried to keep the pace he had started but Jin was no longer in control and he thrust deeper then the slightly younger boy was ready for and he began to choke. Sharply he pulled off to attempt to regain his composure. Jin's face became frustrated and his eyes were hazy. Hwoarang again lowered his lips but this time kept his arms a good distance away. He allowed Jin to thrust into his awaiting mouth. He could feel as Jin's muscles tightened and tried his best to prepare himself. Jin's body shook violently as he came. It had been too long since Hwoarang had been with a man and he wasn't quite prepared enough and once again began to cough in desperation to clear his windpipe, things were not going well, rather then a smooth seduction the night was ending in confused motions.

After a good deal of coughing Hwoarang finally settled down in the bed next to Jin. His body felt somehow warmer although the half demon's black eyes were distant. His arms hurt far too much to attempt to relieve his own painful erection and he couldn't bear to make Jin go through anything else tonight. Hwoarang's warm eyes fluttered closed until he felt a cool hand slip under his shorts and grip around his erection.

"Jin...no...you don't...no."

"Would you just shut up? I'm going to feel awful in the morning if I don't do this."

Hwoarang made a muffled sound in protest. He didn't want to protest, rather he felt he was supposed to.

"Just remember, I like pain."

A slight nod of the head acknowledged Hwoarang's request. Jin's hands began roughly move against him. It felt somehow different then Hwoarang had expected. Not different bad, nor necessarily different good, just different. Exercising more self control then Jin had, he slowly began to meet the pace the other boy had set.

"Hurt me, please, make it hurt."

The words escaped as soft whimpers. This was something Hwoarang had grown to need. He needed it to feel complete, to feel satisfied.

"What should I do to make it hurt?"

Despite the tiredness in Jin's voice his eyes were still very much awake. His eyes drifted over the form that lay before him. Every perfectly toned muscle, perfected limbs. Everything they had both been disciplined for. Strangely it was like they were betraying all of that now. Odd.

"Nails, ahh, use your nails."

Hwoarang's body was begging for release. Thoroughly convinced that none of the objects that he would enjoy used on his body would be found anywhere in Jin's immaculate apartment he would have to settle for sharp scratches.

"I-I, I can't, I'm sorry..I..."

Jin quickened the pace of his hand as a silent apology for not being able to give Hwoarang exactly what he had wanted. Hwoarang's arms lay limply by his sides. There was nothing he could do to fill the perverse void Jin was leaving. Still, it wasn't long until he came. There were no fireworks, no stars in front of his eyes, none of that stereotypical bullshit people would come to suspect. It was more of a placid silence. He was content but little more. Sexual activity with Jin had been anything but mind-blowing, besides the fact Hwoarang had nearly choked to death twice and had little to no use of his hands. But they were both content. Content enough to lay sleeping with only a slight distance between their bodies. However, they didn't make contact at any point. No one slept in the other's arms.

When Jin woke up in the morning he was quite cold and realized Hwoarang had managed to curl the blanket around himself leaving Jin completely exposed and rather embarrassed.

"Now, Jin-kun, isn't this how I told you it would end?"

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