Welcome to Ardith

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Hwoarang sat downstairs in the rec room, volume up on the television watching motorcycle races, while drinking a beer. And who says he can’t multitask? Moving along, he sat there swearing loudly occasionally and hitting anyone that dared to touch the remote. He had just finished slapping the Australian monkey man for trying to highjack the remote to put on rugby (really, what kind of sport was that anyway? It’s like soccer and football had an evil lovechild) when he heard the distinct sound of someone falling down the stairs.

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What Happened Upstairs

Forest was pissed. He hated that cocky mouthed, ungrateful bastard that pushed everyone else around. Law was heading upstairs to his room on the third floor when he took careful notice of one particular door. It was painted blue, with caution tape all over it in a humorous display, and many, many scars on it. There were burn marks, narrow lines where he knew knives had been thrown at it, and most predominant of all there were the eight score marks, someone frantically clawing at the wood had made that.

He couldn’t resist going in. Forest had every intention of rooting through the Blood Talon’s personal effects until he found something to blackmail him with. Cautiously, he opened the door and found another door much like Japanese shogi walls that he had to slide. It was very… messy. With clothes on the floor, cigarette cartons strewn about and burned out incense sticks lying on the dresser it was filthy. Upon entering he immediately started to look through the closet.

Clothes had been piled in and tumbled out onto the floor. Not that it mattered much. There was only one thing of interest he found in Hwoarang’s room was a box. A big cardboard box in the very back of his closet merely labeled “Army Crap”. Forest gently lifted out the battle helmet and breastplate along with several uniforms. Underneath that was his things from the army: dog tags, hair gel, and photos… what! The bastard has photos! Law flipped through the photos, mostly the redhead having his photo taken by one of the guys in his squadron, and Hwoarang flipping off the camera of course. As he got to photos taken at a later date (they were in chronological order) he noticed more of a dark brown haired man with his hair covering his eyes in the pictures. Forest kept looking threw the pictures and dropped all the others while he stared at one. Hwoarang had his arm thrown about aforementioned man’s neck kissing him while he shoved his hand at the lens.

He couldn’t take it any longer; he fell on his back and started laughing. The laughter drifted out into the hallway where Lei passing to his room with some bags heard him. “What are you doing in Hwoarang’s room?” he inquired sticking his head in.

“It’s just… so… funny!” His speech punctured by laughter.

“What is?”

“Hwoarang is such a homophobe because he doesn’t want anyone to know he is one!” Forest collapsed in a fit of giggles.

“How do you figure that?” Lei asked.

“By these!” Law handed over the incriminating photos.

Lei turned around suddenly. “These are frickin’ hilarious! This calls for a drink!” He pulled out a bottle of Southern Comfort from the bag he was carrying.

“I didn’t know you drank,” Law punched him in the shoulder.

“Yeah well, I didn’t before Bryan moved into the house.”

“Whatever. Look at this stuff!” Forest put the helmet on as he broke the seal on the bottle and took a swig.

Lei snatched the bottle and took a long drink. “No you need to put the armor on too!” Law put the breastplate on; it was too big as Hwoarang had a much broader chest than he did. “Like that! Now I should arrest you for going AWOL on the Korean Military.” Lei laughed looking red in the face.

“You’ll never get me, you bastard from Interpol!” Forest fell backwards.

“Oh that’s it I’m cuffing you!” Lei, having just gotten off duty, still had his gun and handcuffs at hand. He lunged at Law, who threw the dog tags at him and ran out into the hallway.

Forest casually looked over his shoulder forgetting there were stairs at the end of the hallway. So… he tripped and fell down the stairs landing at the bottom with the combat helmet askew on his head and Lei in hot pursuit.

Now back to Hwoarang…

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The redhead jumped off the couch wanting to see who had tripped. He flung open the rec room door and slid out into the hall on his socks.

He ran out to see Forest lying at the foot of the stairs in his combat equipment. And Lei holding his dog tags, handcuffs, and waving a bottle of alcohol.

“You fucking chinks! What the hell do you think you’re doing going through my fucking stuff like that! I'm going to beat your fucking face in till they can't identify you,” he walked over and grabbed Forest by his shirt.

“Aw shut up ya fag,” dismissing him easily since he was slightly drunk.

Hwoarang’s mouth fell open like a dead fish. Quite a crowd of people from the house had formed to see what was happening. He had to finish this quick, his reputation was at stake.

“I-I am n-not…” Hwoarang stuttered out.

“Whaddaya mean!” Lei yelled, spinning the cuffs around his finger. “We saw the picture of you and your base bitch in your room!”

“God damn you, stupid bastard! You leave Kim out of this!” He made to launch himself at Lei only to be held down by Doo-san and Kazuya. “I’ll kill you snooping little…” he tried to struggle out of their hold but his mentor sat on him.

“Everything is all right Hwoa-kun, you just need some cool off time.” He dragged Hwoarang up to his feet and brought him up to his room. “Now you stay here, and no contemplating thoughts of revenge.” Doo-san left him alone and closed the shogi door behind him.

He sat there on his bed trying to clear his mind like Baek had always taught him. That lasted for about five seconds. He lied down and tried to sleep. Hwoarang just slept, he slept all afternoon, he slept through dinner, and then he woke up to have a smoke. Lying in bed smoking a Marlboro in his boxers, he felt a little better. The redhead had just stubbed out the butt when he heard his door open and slide open, then close again.

He felt someone slip between his sheets. ‘Nice way to end the day,’ he thought.

People did this sometimes, slipped into his room when they wanted some. This person was staying down below so he was assuming he was just getting head. Hwoarang ran his hands through the person’s silky hair. ‘Mmm… girl tonight.’

And then as his boxers were pushed down he felt large callused hands. ‘Okay, guy tonight…’

This person was working him slowly, just sucking on the tip before stopping for a moment, then resuming again. “Fucking tease.” He pushed down on his mystery lover’s head making him take more down his throat.

“That’s it, right there!” he rasped out as the man started bobbing his head. Then suddenly he felt a finger wriggle into his entrance and jab at his prostate. ‘Maybe I will get more than a blow job tonight…’

As he felt himself getting close, Hwoarang gripped the man’s hair and thrust into his mouth. “O-oh,” Hwoarang choked down a moan as he released into the man’s mouth.

He fell back on his pillows, petting the head still below his sheets. Hwoarang watched with curiosity as a hand emerged from underneath the blankets snaking towards his pack of cigarettes. The redhead picked them up and saw the hand following it as he waved the red box back and forth. “Asshole, just give me a smoke already!” came a muffled voice.

He lit one and gave it to the hand, “Wait what am I doing?” he tore the sheet off and saw Chaolan lying there in his violet pajama bottoms, smoking, in his bed. WTF.

“Whoops! This isn’t Kazu- I mean the bathroom,” Lee said with shifty eyes.

“Bullshit Lee, your bedroom is on the fourth floor and Kazuya is getting stoned on the roof with Bryan. You can’t tell me you missed the smell of pot on your floor?”

“I was wondering who had that…” He said taking a drag.

“Why are you here?” he asked sharply changing the subject.

“Because you’re an out of the closet bi now, so basically because I can,” Lee told him taking a drag and exhaling it in his bedmate’s face. “Oh yeah,” he leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed one of the pictures Hwoarang hadn’t bothered cleaning up. He held up one of the redhead lying on his back, naked, one arm behind his head and the other around Kim’s shoulder, who was sleeping next to him. The little Blood Talon looked very content with himself. “Your boyfriend’s cute,” he said oogling some of the other more elicit photos.

Lee was pushed out of bed. “Out out OUT!” He grabbed the picture out of the Silver Devil’s hand and threw him in the hallway.

Jin looked out of his room at the disturbance. He looked at the purple clad ass walking up the hallway dangling a cigarette from his lips.

“Bye hun, I’ll see you later!” Lee gave Hwoarang a saucy wink as he walked towards the staircase.

‘I got to get me some of that…’ Jin turned around to go back inside and saw several other people looking out at Lee thinking the same thing. He went back in his sparsely decorated room. ‘Well, I have one in mind and three good leads.’

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Blue: *giggles* I like Hwoarang.

Carrie: Blue wanted to make him cry in this chapter.

Blue: Uh, umm, I thought it would give the character depth!

Carrie: Right… Review my sweet little tarts and pastry poufs! For we love thy feedback.

Blue: And flames will be used to bake any of you that are pastry poufs and then distributed to the other reviewers.

Carrie: Those are tarts!

Blue: Yes, yes, they’re tarts. Now go chase the shiny ball that’s what it’s for, for you to be stupid with.

Carrie: Yay ball! *squeaks in happiness* Sayonara, baby!