Author's Notes: Ready for the conclusion? Uh… There’s a bit of rape in this chapter so be forewarned…
I don’t normally respond to reviews, so I’ll just say, sorry, I already wrote this chapter a week ago so I couldn’t change anything, but maybe I can somehow work some Kazzy + Hwoarang + Jin action into the sequel if that’s what people want. I’m all about the people…
**Disclaimer**: NOTHING RELATED TO TEKKEN IS MINE!
Stuck In My Ways
Chapter 8 - Angels Can Be So Deceiving
There was a flash of red as the Korean was launched off his rival. The air was suddenly heavily laden with confusion and anger. The Korean landed with a loud thump on the hard ground, and skidded back a bit, finding himself against another stack of crates. It was a bit of an amusing situation, but he wouldn’t express it, for fear of ruining his whole plan B.
Jin wiped his mouth with his sleeve and glared at the other man. “What has gotten into you?”
Hwoarang didn’t answer. Instead he watched his rival stand up, allowing the anger in the air to grow more intense. Intense was good. Defensive was good. The big reaction was very good. Things were going well so far, but Kazuya may not have been so impressed.
“Is this your idea of a joke? Hunt me down and… do that??” Jin raged, barely yelling, but obviously angry. His eyes flickered around the warehouse, desperately trying to think of something else to say, “Just… Leave me alone.”
“Jin…” Hwoarang said, almost pitifully, in the most genuine voice he could fake. He watched Jin turn and head toward the outside world, “Wait! I’m sorry!” He called.
The plan was in motion. A dark smirk crept upon the Korean’s face. Of course, it would take awhile to complete the task, but there was only one-way he could have had instant success, and that was plan A. If Jin wasn’t so good at avoiding fights, perhaps it would have worked, but it didn’t and Kazuya would just have to be patient.
Shit. Hwoarang cursed under his breath as he got to his feet. He was supposed to call Julia when he arrived in Japan. He ran out of the warehouse and to the Honda. Kazuya left a cell in the car. Hopefully, the man wouldn’t mind a bit of long distance charges.
Hwoarang opened the door and sat inside, letting his feet hang out. He flipped it open and dialled the number of the hotel. A raspy voice answered, and when Hwoarang asked for Julia’s room, he was informed that Julia had checked out that morning. Panicked, he tried one of Julia’s friends, but they only told him worse news. Julia was on her way to Japan. That wasn’t good news.
“Hwoa-kun.”
Hwoarang jumped out of the car and spun around, hanging up on his girlfriend’s friend. Upon seeing the expression on his lover’s face, he stepped back. “Mishima-sama… Uh… Is there a problem?”
“My son got away. You didn’t do what you said you would.”
“Don’t sweat it, man. I’ve got it all worked out,” Hwoarang assured, holding his hands up defensively, “It ain’t over yet. Of course he’s gonna push me away the first time. He’s scared. It was possible that he would completely resist me. You know, possible that he didn’t feel a damn thing, but did you see how defensive he got? Jin Kazama never gets angry! He wants me.”
“He left,” Kazuya growled.
Hwoarang nodded, “This kinda thing takes time. He’ll be back. They always come back.”
Kazuya’s eyes slowly began to get lighter, until they were a reddish colour. Soon, they were glowing, like two demonic fireflies. As he spoke, his voice became unnatural, “You have failed me, Blood Talon. I have no further use for you.”
“Whoa!” Hwoarang shook his head, stepping back some more, “Use? Um… Can I speak to Kazuya again? I think I’d prefer his anger to yours.”
The demon stepped forward, slowly backing the Korean against a wall of the warehouse. He spoke no more, but the look in his eyes was enough to let the Korean know that the creature had bigger plans. Exceptionally strong Japanese hands grasped the redhead by the shoulders, as violaceous coloured wings sprouted from his back tearing the shirt with a sickening noise. With a silent disappointed message, the creature leapt into the air, taking off into the sky with its new Korean prisoner.
It was around 9 pm when the demon finally came to a stop on the roof of a skyscraper. It was fortunate that Hwoarang was not afraid of heights, for the demon perched on the edge, holding the Korean over. The creature laughed, a cruel taunting laugh, as it loosened its grip, allowing the redhead to slip a couple inches toward a fatal fall.
Hwoarang didn’t struggle, afraid that if he did so, he’d struggle his way out of the devil’s grasp and to his own death. He did not panic, telling himself that he had to think straight. Panic would only do him harm. He did not look down, knowing that if he did so, he would scream, for he was afraid of certain death. The only thing he could do was try to reason with the devil. How do you reason with a devil?
“Your ‘Mishima-sama,’ had plans to make you beg for pain.” The demon mused, “I think I would like to put those plans in motion. You have two choices, my beautiful human. Either I let go, or you succumb to me.”
Difficult choices, and normally Hwoarang wasn’t one to plead for his life, but he had never dangled off the top of a skyscraper before. The Korean searched his mind for a reply, “Define what you mean by ‘succumb’.”
“Would you like to find out?”
“Uh… Sure.”
The creature shifted its weight and let Hwoarang slip another inch, “Beg.”
Hwoarang could feel himself shaking nervously. It was not a position he liked being in. What choice did he have? Die or submit to a demon. Those weren’t any kind of choices to have. Maybe he could act his way out of it. “I don’t know whom to beg,” he admitted, taking in the beauty of his possessed lover’s body.
“Pretend I’m your ‘Mishima-sama’.”
“He would never threaten my life.”
The devil smiled darkly, “Are you so certain of a man you barely know? Of a man who ignored your pleas to stop? Of a man whose greatest pleasure is to see you in pain? You are naïve, my beautiful human. Your naivety is the reason you’re in this position in the first place. You were foolish to think a beautiful woman like Julia Chang would accept you for who you are, and you were foolish to think that your relationship with Kazuya was anything more then a stress-reliever. Now beg.”
“… Please…” Hwoarang swallowed, awkwardly pleading, “please don’t kill me.”
“You know better then that. I have no desire to hear you beg for your life.”
A tear betrayed the Korean and slowly streaked down his cheek. “Hurt me.” Were the demons words about Kazuya true? “Please hurt me.” It was a disturbing reality to be faced with. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Tell me what to do. I’d be on my knees, but it’s kind of fucking difficult right now.”
The demon tossed Hwoarang onto the solid surface, and loomed over him, “Undress.”
“What?”
There was no need for an answer, so the demon didn’t give one. It only waited for its prisoner to submit. It didn’t take long. Hwoarang took off his black wife-beater and shivered as the cool air brushed against his wounds. It was a lot colder up high, and soon Hwoarang had trouble keeping his teeth from chattering without his body trembling.
It wasn’t enough. The demon shook its head and nodded down at the blue jeans the Korean was wearing. “Completely,” it clarified.
Hwoarang sighed in defeat, and complied hesitantly, finding himself exposed and freezing under the demon’s deadly gaze. He had never felt so helpless since Toshin had killed his sensei. How the hell could he get himself out of this predicament in one piece?
The demon closed the distance between them in one smooth stride. It pulled Hwoarang against it, and whispered in his ear, “I will make you cry.”
Before Hwoarang could respond, rough lips pressed against his. It didn’t even taste like his Mishima-sama. It tasted foul. The Korean had trouble stopping himself from gagging. The strong demonic hands gently caressed the wounded back, and suddenly dug in its nails, ripping off the new scabs. Hwoarang cried out, startled and in pain. The demon smirked. Well at least I know how Kazuya became a sadist.
The demon turned Hwoarang around and shoved him. Hwoarang fell, his hands coming out to break his fall just in time. Within seconds, an extra weight was added as the demon put itself on top of its prey. The Korean could feel the demonic breath on his neck. The breath was even colder then the breeze. Hwoarang could no longer stop himself from trembling in violent shivers.
Something pressed between the meaty cheeks of his behind. He hadn’t even heard the demon remove anything so that couldn’t be it. As the thick member forced its way in, he was proved wrong.
Hwoarang screamed against the cold surface, and arched his back away from his assailant. He was still sore from the last time he had enjoyed Kazuya’s abuse, and he was next to positive that this demonic Kazuya had more to abuse with. Hwoarang’s breath came fast and heavy as he attempted to stabilize his wits. Was that truly a better fate then falling to his death?
The creature thrusted, inserting itself dangerously deep, pressing against something that would normally mean pleasure, but in that case, it was only pain. Hwoarang sunk his teeth into his own hand in an attempt to divert his attention. The ring of muscle tightened around the demon’s shaft, but the demon made no noise, no moan, absolutely no sign that it was feeling anything. Its wings were gone and all that was left was the glowing eyes and the awesome strength.
Eventually the rough thrusts were too much to take, but the extreme pain was becoming more pleasurable to the vulnerable Blood Talon. He whimpered into the ground as the blood from his hand flowed past his teeth. The throbbing member impaling him jerked violently, causing him to cry out again.
Hwoarang squeezed back tears, finding the pleasure worse then the pain. If he had any shred of pride and dignity left when the invasion of his body started, it was just obliterated. It was no longer cold within the combined heat of their bodies, yet the breath of the demon caused an inner chill to creep down the Korean spine. After a bit more of the humiliating abuse, foreign sounds startled Hwoarang. Eventually, he realized it was him, trembling with distressed sobs, humiliating him even further.
A warm thick liquid leaked out of him, coating his inner thighs. He did not have to look to know it was blood. The pain, the pleasure, and the extreme emotional strain were overwhelming. Less then 3 minutes later, the demonic Mishima pulled himself out of the Korean’s unconscious body.
Soft soothing music reached sleeping ears, bringing the man out of a troubled dream. Hwoarang opened his eyes finding himself face down on the hotel bed. His cheeks were wet, and his eyes sore. Must have been crying in his sleep. He closed his eyes, hoping against hope that it was all a dream, but when he shifted to sit up, he was met by a painful reality.
“You’re awake.”
Hwoarang pushed himself up with his hands, and got to his feet, being extremely careful not to bend his body. He wobbled a bit, still very tired, and in pain. A grimace tainted his face as he looked upon his former angel. It was painful just looking at the older man. “Yeah.”
Kazuya stepped forward and frowned when the younger man stepped away. “That wasn’t me, Hwoa-kun.”
“How do I know that? How can I trust that Kazuya didn’t die in that fucking volcano, and that bastard is just keeping your body alive? How can I believe one fucking thing that comes out of that disgusting cursed mouth of yours?”
Silence followed. Kazuya didn’t know how to answer that. He stepped forward, “Hwoa-kun…”
“Don’t come any fucking closer.”
/I think I’m liking your toy. Perhaps we should keep him.\
Kazuya walked over to the mirror, lifted it off the hook and smashed it over his knee. The older man ignored the confused looks from his Korean companion, and punched the wooden table, glaring as it caved in under his fist. His anger was at himself, for pulling the Korean into his life. It wouldn’t have happened if he was only able to resist the fiery redhead.
“I’m sorry. Is there any way I can…”
“Yeah. Stay the fuck out of my life,” Hwoarang spat, grabbed his bag and stormed out of the hotel room.
The End
A/N: YES! It’s over! If you want a sequel, REVIEW!!!!!!! I know I left a lot of unanswered questions, but that’s why I’m willing to do a sequel. J