Lustful Game

Please see Chapter 00 for all disclaimers, warnings, notes, etc.

Pairing: Devil Jin/Hwoarang, Jin/Hwoarang

Summary:  After leaving Steve Fox in the elevator, Hwoarang and Jin return to their room.  Jin's thoughts of sleep are overshadowed by Hwoarang's desire to indulge in more physical exertion, but all thoughts turn to drinking when they discover a gift basket has been left in their room.  Its origin isn't questioned as the two men dive into the free alcohol, which serve to loosen Hwoarang's tongue considerably.  Jin's resolve is weakened through insults and expensive wine leading to Devil gaining more ground in his psyche. The two fighters find themselves pitted against each other in a violent confrontation as Jin loses control, and it's up to Hwoarang to save him and not get killed while doing it.

Special Thanks: To Kat for being a wonderful inspiration for all things Tekken, listening to me go on about this and helping me tweak a few things (as well as pointing out anything she noticed while reading it ^_^) and to Yaoichi for pointing out the various places where I liked to switch subjects without so much as a warning among many other little things (like commas!)

Notes:  I was a bit iffy when I started this pairing, but I believe in the reversibility of Jin and Hwoarang's characters, so I stuck to it.  I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.  Just to clarify: "south-paw" means that someone is left handed.  Also, the drink in the scene at the very end of the chapter is Plum Brandy.  I don't drink Brandy, so I didn't know how it tasted.  I researched and found that Plum Brandy tastes like almonds.  (Yeah, I'm sure. No booze tastes like alcohol ^_^)  Hwoarang's drink is Sambucca.  I have a lot of experience with a friend who LOVED this.  (Loved it so much he married it in a small wedding ceremony while we were camping.  True story!)  It really does taste like black licorice and nothing else.

+++

An Angry Devil (Now Hwoarang is really fucked!) Pun!

Hwoarang kept his arm around Jin while he led the other man from the elevator to their room.  It had taken the alcohol longer to work its magic on the brunette, but it had been worth it.  Jin, his demeanour usually cool and unforgiving, was letting loose; laughing at how neither of them could walk, and even put his arm around Hwoarang's waist while they wandered down the quiet, empty hallway. 

Jin was ready for bed, but Hwoarang had no intention of letting him slip off into dreamland so easily.  Through his own inebriated state he was in the mood to fight, or fuck; whichever came first.  He jumped as he felt a hand grab his ass and he whirled on Jin who was laughing in his face.  It was almost musical hearing it from him, but that didn't stop the redhead from grabbing his wrist and twisting it away.  "Eager, aren't ya?" he asked, pulling Jin closer to him.  His rival had been quiet all evening while they were at the bar.  Since they'd walked into the elevator, however, he'd instantly turned into one of those silly drunks that got on Hwoarang's nerves.  The Korean smacked at Jin's hands again, pulling their room key from his pocket and sliding it through the card reader in the handle.

Jin stopped laughing, his grin dropping to a smile as he allowed himself to be pulled into the room.  "I feel so fuzzy," he laughed and then suddenly looked very worried.

"It's called being drunk," Hwoarang said, kicking off his boots and locking the door behind him.  "Why don't you drink more?" he offered, hoping Jin would agree to the suggestion. 

Jin didn't answer him and Hwoarang flicked on the lights to brighten up the dark room.  The dim mood-lighting bathed the room in a sleepy glow and illuminated a rather large gift basket that sat at the centre of their bed.  Even through the Korean's inebriated state his senses went on alert and he immediately scanned the room for intruders.  Jin remained quiet and tentatively walked towards the bathroom to peer into the small, tiled room.  He came back a moment later and shook his head; they were the only two people there.

They looked at each other, both their paranoia piqued, and Jin briefly remembered his earlier concerns over who had set them up in the room in the first place.  His eyes flicked over to the television, as if the device would come alive again with images and sounds of adult films that entered his ears and went straight to his groin.

Hwoarang, however, was the first to make a move, hesitantly at first but quickly becoming bold as he moved to the bed and reached out to inspect the basket.  He pushed one side of it, looking for… something, but after a few minutes he hadn't found what he was looking for and decided to tear into it.

"No bombs.  Must be okay!" he announced, throwing decorative wrapping everywhere.

"Hwoarang," Jin started, sinking onto the bed beside the redhead.  "Don't you wonder who left this here for us?  It seems a bit suspicious…"

"Just as suspicious as porn that won't turn off," Hwoarang said, grabbing the TV remote and pushing a few buttons.  Jin grabbed the controller from his hand before he succeeded in turning anything on with it.

Hwoarang glared at him for a moment, but quickly forgot about the TV and began digging through the gift basket.  "Whoa, they've got those fancy cheeses that rich people eat!"

"Hmm," Jin answered, leaning over to pull a bottle of wine from the package.  "Beaujolais…" he pulled a corkscrew from the basket and quickly uncorked the bottle.  "I think grandpa had some of this somewhere…"

"Oh, booze!"  Hwoarang forgot the cheese and leaned across the bed to make a grab for the bottle. 

Jin held it close against his body and pushed the redhead out of the way.  "Get your own," he said after Hwoarang gave him a death glare.  "There are plenty of bottles in there," he gestured to the basket while putting the bottle to his lips and taking a drink.  The liquid was a mixture of sweet and bitter as it washed over his pallet.  It wasn't like the beer that Hwoarang had encouraged him to drink at the bar.  No, this was far, far better.  He tilted his head back as he pulled the bottle from his lips.  It glided down his throat, biting slightly at the edges before sinking comfortably into his belly.  He opened his eyes and peered over at his rival.  His view was getting fuzzy again, but he didn't care.  It was much more comfortable than how he'd felt at the bar after drinking all that cheap beer.  Deep inside he felt an irritating warmth spread across his chest.  Something was tugging at the edges of his brain, but he decided it was nothing and took another swig of the Beaujolais.

While the brunette drank, Hwoarang finally decided on an oddly shaped black bottle.  He didn't recognize the gold words on the outside and decided to do a taste test to discover what it was.  He lifted it free and twisted the cap off.  He sniffed the opening and quickly turned his face away with a grimace.  He was about to set the bottle aside and find something else, but he saw Jin was still chugging the contents of his bottle and his competitive instinct took over.  His grip tightened around the dark bottle as the brunette finally pulled his own away to smack his lips contentedly; making a show that he was enjoying his wine.

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes and put the dark bottle to his lips.  He'd be damned if Jin drank more than him.  He held back a shudder as the burning liquid slid down his throat, leaving a taste in his mouth like black licorice. 

He hated black licorice.

The Blood Talon pulled the bottle from his lips, the remaining liquid sinking back to the halfway mark.  "Jin," he started, wiggling the bottle to show that it was half empty.  "There's no way you could ever drink more than me."  He hiccupped, "I've been drinking since before your mommy n' you were living in the fucking forest," he belched loudly, grinned and lifted the bottle again, pouring more of the biting liquid down his throat.

He failed to notice the look that Jin was giving him.  The brunette's hand was twitching; his hand tightening around the bottle of Beaujolais that he'd thought was delicious moments before.  His eyes had lost their drunken glee and his features became darker and more serious. 

Hwoarang was grimacing against the licorice taste and didn't see the spark of lightening that sprang from Jin's hand and danced its way up his arm.  If he had, he might not have laughed as he pulled the now-empty bottle from his lips and loudly set it on the nightstand just to show his rival that he'd finished first.

Jin took a breath, "Don't talk about stuff that you don't know anything about."  He could feel the darkness inside him feeding off of his emotions, his anger pushing against the protective shell of calm and restraint that he'd built.  Under normal circumstances he could have brushed off the calloused comment and chalked it up to the Korean's character and ignorance.  But he was feeling fuzzy, and had made a mistake by letting loose and enjoying himself the moment the alcohol had warmed his belly.  That crack in his resolve had been enough for the Devil inside him to push other emotions forward; unwelcome, dangerous emotions that he'd kept bottled up for a long time.  Jin stood and walked to the window, looking out and trying to collect his thoughts.

"Whatta ya mean, Kazama?" Hwoarang asked, stuffing some chocolates into his mouth.  "I know what I'm talking about!  You didn't have it half as bad as me growing up.  It's why you're gonna lose this competition."

"What?" Jin said, his lip curling as he turned to face the Korean.

Hwoarang rolled off the bed and stood next to his rival by the window.  "Don't worry; I won't humiliate you or anything," he threw his arm around the brunette.  It was a relaxed gesture, but it just made Jin tense under it.  "I'm just going to beat your ass down within the first ten seconds of the fight, is all!"  He grinned, pulling Jin closer so that the smell of licorice wafted off his words.  The booze was working its magic; making Hwoarang fuzzy and warm and invincible.

Jin turned away from the redhead.  "Yeah, well, don't do me any favours," he said, walking away from the Blood Talon and letting the other man stumble without his support.  "The only reason that our last fight was a tie is because I held myself back.  You don't know what you're up against, Hwoarang."  He bit the name out as the electricity inside him grew.  He should find another room.  If Hwoarang would just shut up and leave him alone, he'd be able to control himself.

"Yes I do," Hwoarang said with some effort.  "I'm up against-"

"Don't…" Jin said, cutting the other man off.

"I'm up against a pussy-ass momma's boy who doesn't know who he is without someone to tell him!"

"Just… shut up…" Jin said, his lip curling and he walked away, quickly disappearing around the corner and into the bathroom.

"Look, Kazama, I don't give a fuck if your grandpa is Heihachi Mishima and you've had all this fancy training from your mommy," Hwoarang followed him.  "It pisses me off that someone who doesn't know shit about the way the real world works wouldn't lose to me."

"Shut the FUCK up," Jin turned on Hwoarang and made the other man step back.  "I don't give two shits about your pride or if you think that your life was so tough and you're entitled to anything."

Hwoarang was surprisingly quiet.  Jin was… really mad.

"Leave me alone, alright?"  His voice fell and he cringed, clutching at his sides.

"What's the matter?" Hwoarang asked as Jin went to the bathroom.  "Gonna puke?"

Jin shuddered as a wave of pain coursed through him and he collapsed into the wall.  He was so mad.  Hwoarang was so ignorant that he couldn't even understand why he should shut up, so he just kept talking.

"Kazama?" Hwoarang asked from outside the bathroom, uncertain if he should step inside.

Jin squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the lightening spreading, sparking through his cells and dancing along his skin.  He could feel his hairs standing on end and the dark laughter in the back of his mind was deafening him.

He clapped his hands over his ears, trying to block out the noise that echoed throughout his mind as the Devil inside him raged to get out.  "Shut up.  Shut up!" he yelled, trying to just get it to stop.  Everything was spinning, he could smell burning and his vision was darkening.

+++

"Just let me out!" the voice echoed.  "I'll beat that smug fucker into the carpet.  Let me the hell out!  I'm gonna kill him!"

"No!" Jin yelled back, snarling as his canines elongated into sharp points.  He had to focus.  Think of something calm.

He concentrated, calling images of his mother to his mind.  He focused on them, the memories of his childhood when it had only been him and her.  She was smiling at the base of the waterfall by their home.  He closed his mind to everything else and remembered that day.  She'd been washing clothes and he'd snuck up on her to surprise her.  She hadn't sensed him before he jumped out of the water and she'd told him how proud she was.

She'd been smiling.

Happy.

Alive.

He focused on her; the way her hair had looked in the light, the loving look in her eyes.  Everything he could remember about her and even some imagined things that were too angelic to be real.

Her features shimmered in his mind and he could feel the warmth of that day.  Her mouth was slowly moving, her teeth glinting in the sunlight while she spoke.

"What?" he asked.  He couldn't hear her.

"I said I won't be overpowered that easily!"  The voice of Devil came from her mouth and Jin recoiled in horror.  Her features shimmered as they began to melt.  Her eyes burned with a fierce glow that Jin recognized and he cried out as the form of his mother was ripped apart and Devil stood in her place.

+++

"Shit, you okay man?" Hwoarang rushed into the bathroom as Jin made a terrible sound.  The other man had begun shaking and sounded as if he'd been speaking to himself.  "What the fuck is going on?  You, uh… need an ambulance?" he leaned down to Jin's level.  His rival, Jin Kazama, was kicking outwards, desperately pushing himself back against the wall, his eyes wild with pain as he clawed at his chest.  Hwoarang reached out to put his hand on Jin's shoulder, but quickly drew back as he received a nasty shock and the other man growled menacingly.

Hwoarang quickly stood up and backed out of the bathroom as Jin rose from the floor and somehow elevated himself into the air.  His body bowed backwards at a painfully odd angle and his body sparked with shoots of electricity that raised his shirt from his skin and incinerated it on his body.   He curled forward and Hwoarang could see two points rising out from his back, pushing against the skin until it ripped open and two black points pushed outwards.  Blood splattered on the wall behind him and the points kept growing, snaking out from Jin's back until they unfurled and revealed themselves as black, feathery wings.

The transformation, however, was far from over.  Jin screamed and clamped his hands to his head as two points began to glow from beneath his hairline.  His head snapped back as a pair of horns shot out, coiling from his forehead and spiraling upwards until they stood like two twisting monoliths atop his head.

Hwoarang shielded his eyes from a surge of light that encompassed Jin's form, burning away the other man's clothing and even the scream that fled his lips.

Jin's new form lowered itself to the floor, his heavy boots clunking as they connected with the tiled floor.  He tilted his head down, staring wildly at his hands, seeming to try and focus on the claws that had formed there.  He clenched his hands tightly, and began shaking.  Hwoarang took another step backwards as blood leaked from between Jin's fingers and the shudders turned to unrepressed laughter.  The foreign sound was different, deeper, and stopped suddenly when Jin spun around to glare at Hwoarang, his eyes blazing with electricity and anger.

"I should thank you," he said, swiveling his feet to take a step towards the redhead.

Hwoarang stood his ground, putting his fists between himself and Jin.  "Shit, what the fuck are you, Jin?"

The name sent a twitch to the Jin's eye and he growled, unhappy at the sound.  "Jin is gone," he said.  "You weakened him enough to free me.  You and your childish taunts," he curled a lip upwards, revealing glinting fangs.  "You think that just because you were a street rat when you were a child that it makes you a man?  Don't think that you're any better now than you were then, fool!  I am the true power behind this man.  I am the god that is his strength!" he moved forward, driving a fist past Hwoarang's guard.

The Korean reeled from the force of the blow.  He caught himself a few feet back and moved further into the room to give himself more space.

He grinned as the creature that now controlled Jin's body followed him.  He wiped at the blood that he could taste at the side of his mouth.  "God?" he asked, keeping his fists up and bouncing on the balls of his feet.  "You're more like a fucking devil!  Not that it makes a difference," he added.  "I'm still gonna kick your ass!"

The other man's wings swept along behind him, dusting the expensive hotel carpeting with black feathers.  The inky appendages spread out from the creature's back, lifting high into the air and truly stretching for the first time in ages.  "I will show you the true meaning of the word power," Devil Jin said once he paused in his advances towards the Korean.  "I have been trapped deep inside Jin's body since the last foolish tournament.  Two years is long enough to whet my appetite for blood, and I will have you begging me for mercy before the night is out," he sniffed as he looked the redhead up and down.

Hwoarang could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, pushing out the alcohol that had dominated his blood before.  The delicious anticipation before a fight was intoxicating, especially if it promised to be as trying as this one.  "Whatever," he said, thumbing his nose at the creature before him.  "You think just because you grow a pair of wings that I'll be scared?  I'll take you down and make you eat those words."  He rushed towards the new Jin, his leg sweeping upwards in a flurry of kicks that would have a lesser fighter sprawled backwards and unconscious.

Devil Jin blocked, bringing his arm up to deflect or catch each hit.  Hwoarang swore, bringing his leg down only to spin on his feet and launch himself into the air.  He flew at the demon, his foot outstretched to connect with the creature's head, but it reached up to block, catching the other man's foot and spinning around and swinging Hwoarang onto the bed.  "Fuck," the Korean cursed, trying to right himself and roll off the mattress.  "Fuck you, asshole!  I hope you enjoyed that, because I'm about to make you wish you'd never been born."

"Oh, really?"  Devil Jin said, extending his wings a few feet to casually shake them out.  "I doubt you could do that," he said, side-stepping another well-aimed kick that Hwoarang fired out at his leg.

"Watch me, asshole," the redhead grit his teeth and switched his stance to fight south-paw.  He could fight right or left handed and knew it'd make things a touch more difficult for the creature… at least, he hoped it would.

The demon gave him a dirty look and changed his stance to compensate.  He still managed to hold his own, although Hwoarang succeeded in sneaking in a few good hits and knocked him back.

Devil Jin regained his footing and brought a clawed hand up to smear the blood from his nose.  His eyes flicked up, narrowing at the Korean before he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked at the blood there.  "I hope you enjoyed that," he said, flapping his wings to propel him forward.

Hwoarang raised his arms to block, but the force behind the demon's body was stronger than he'd anticipated and he was knocked onto the bed again.  He rolled over, trying to climb up, but Devil Jin was on him in an instant, pinning him face-down and clawing at him.  He sat heavily on Hwoarang's thighs, his weight seeming to have grown since his transformation.  He pressed one hand against Hwoarang's back while the other made short work of his clothes; claws slicing through the leather and material and cutting deeply into the warm skin beneath.

Hwoarang struggled against the creature; gritting his teeth and trying to twist out from under the powerful body, but for all his struggles and curses, he was trapped.  "When I get outta here…" he started, gritting his teeth as a claw dug deeply into his back.

"When I finally release you," the demon corrected him, grabbing the remainder of Hwoarang's pants and ripping them off the Korean's body.  He reached out to grab the human's arms, pulling them back until the sick pop of one of Hwoarang's shoulders dislocating filled his ears.

"I'll fucking kill you!"  Hwoarang bellowed, quickly biting his tongue against the pain.  He grunted as his arms were released and he let them flop back onto the bed by his side.

Devil Jin wasn't wasting any time in spreading his legs apart.  No matter how much the redhead tried to keep his ass clenched, the Devil simply planted a knee between his thighs and forced them apart with inhuman strength.

With the creature behind him, Hwoarang pushed himself off the bed with his one good arm.  He didn't know how the fuck he was going to get out of it, but he'd be damned if he let him fuck him without a fight.

He flipped himself onto his back, maneuvering his legs to try and knock the demon off balance.  If he could just turn the tables…

Devil Jin, unfortunately, was just as well trained in grappling as the Korean was, and he caught the redhead's legs as they tried to kick him out of the way.  "All this foreplay," he purred, his eyes flashing as he spread Hwoarang's legs again and maneuvered between them before leaning down over the human.  "I'm beginning to see what my host sees in you."

Hwoarang's one good hand was held down, sharp claws digging into his wrist with enough strength to break the skin.  If he moved, he'd be torn up.  He stared defiantly into the dark, glowing eyes that hovered inches away from his own.  While the face was so familiar to him, the soul that he saw in those eyes was not the same.  This man was different from the one he'd known ever since their chance encounter back on the streets of Korea.  It was as if Jin Kazama wasn't there anymore.

"Kazama?" he hazarded to ask.  "What are you?"  His question broke off into a hiss of pain as the demon casually dragged his claws across his chest to graze a nipple.

"That," the creature within Jin laughed.  "You will find out soon enough."

Hwoarang glared daggers at Jin, or rather, the creature using Jin's body.  He considered how he could maneuver his legs around to push the demon from him.

His thoughts of escape wavered somewhat as Devil Jin leaned down further to drag his tongue along the cuts in his chest, smearing bloody droplets across his skin.  When a fanged mouth clamped down around a hardened nipple, Hwoarang couldn't help but repress a shudder.  Jin had lost his humanity… why?  Because of the alcohol?  Or was it?  He glared up into the creature's eyes that now regarded him with a sadistic revelry.  "Why are you here?" he asked.

"That," the devil clucked, "is just as interesting a question as 'what am I?'."  He drew a breath, resting back on his haunches and pulled the injured Korean along with him.  He still held his un-injured arm and gripped Hwoarang's jaw to tilt his head up.  "Who, what, how, why; all these questions have answers, and you're smart enough to figure them out on your own, human," he snarled, looking Hwoarang up and down with a detached glee. 

"I should thank you," he continued, pulling Hwoarang against him.  "Jin… hates me.  Fights me.  He refuses to give up his body to me!  I only want to come out, to own this form and the power that belongs to it.  I only want what was promised to me when I was conceived."  He snarled, eyes narrowing to slits as his grip on Hwoarang's jaw tightened.  "You…" his body went rigid, muscles shifting as he twisted, moving inhumanly fast as he flung Hwoarang across the room.  "You weakened him so that I could come out," the creature barked, springing from the bed towards the Korean to pick him up from the floor.

Hwoarang had flown a good six feet and crashed against a painting on the wall.  The glass had shattered and he lay amidst a sea of broken shards.  His shoulder hurt where it was dislocated, and it was made more-so as he rolled over to try and stand.  With glass biting into his knees and hand, he began to climb to his feet, just as the demon grabbed hold of him and hauled him into the air.  The pain spread across his back and down his arm, his shoulder throbbing to overwhelm him.  He grit his teeth and took a wild swing, smiling with satisfaction when his fist connected with the brunette's face.

The act was repaid in kind as Devil Jin's head snapped forward, connecting with Hwoarang's face and slamming him back against the wall.

"I didn't do shit to Kazama," Hwoarang tried.  He was having his ass kicked.  It was time to try and talk reason.

"That callous ignorance!" Jin slammed Hwoarang into the wall.  "The fact that you don't know what you did makes this all the more delicious."  He raised Hwoarang into the air and pressed him into the drywall as he leaned forward to lick the blood that still ebbed from the cuts on the Korean's chest.

Hwoarang grit his teeth and turned his head away, bearing the pain as quietly as he could.  He grabbed at the hand that held him in place, trying to wrench it loose, but he didn't have the leverage to do anything except hang there and wait for a chance to escape.

"Jin?" he asked when the creature bit down onto his wound.  He was surprised at how badly it hurt.  He was losing… and the pain of it was worse than broken bones; the slow torture was the knowledge that it wasn't even Jin doing it.  He gasped; this was much worse.

"If I'm going to die, then I want Kazama to do it.  I don't fucking know you!  Let Kazama out, you fucking bastard!"  Hwoarang kicked outwards, nailing the devil in the stomach and knocking the air out of him.

The creature bowed forward, lowering Hwoarang as he tried to catch his breath.  The Korean pressed his advantage and ducked to the side and out of the way, throwing out another kick to the demon as he did.  The last hit brought a satisfying crack and the creature doubled over, its wings flaring out violently.

"H-Hwoarang?" the voice that came from the demon's lips was smaller, less menacing than the one that had been threatening moments before.

Hwoarang froze, standing back from the body before him, still not sure what was going on.  He took a tentative step closer, peering around to see Jin's face.  "Kazama?"

Jin peered up at him through raven-coloured bangs; his face was shaking with concentration.  "He's… getting stronger…"

Hwoarang regarded Jin with suspicion for a second, but realized what was really happening when he got closer to see those eyes.  They were dark, black pools; the same ones that belonged to the Kazama that he'd been after for the past few years.  "Damn, Kazama!  What the fuck are you doing?  Fight him!"  He got in closer, right in Jin's face.  "You're stronger!"

Giving anybody a pep talk was so far out of the realm of Hwoarang's expertise and he felt as if he'd used up all his material.  Then again…  He reached out to tilt Jin's face up to him, making the brunette look up into his brown eyes.  "If you let him take over again, I'll kick your ass so bad.  THAT is a promise, Kazama."

Jin's eyes began to roll up into his head as his body shook more violently.  He grit his teeth, trying hard to look Hwoarang in the eyes.

"You're stronger than him, Kazama," Hwoarang continued, saying whatever came to mind no matter how stupid it sounded to his ears.  "You've held him back all these years, man.  Don't let him take over now!  Fight it!"

Jin continued to struggle, and Hwoarang couldn't bear to hear himself talk anymore.  He leaned back from Jin and smacked the other man hard across the face with his good hand.  "For fuck sakes, snap out of it, Kazama!"

That seemed to stun Jin for a moment because his eyes cleared and he looked up into Hwoarang's face, seemingly aware of who was in front of him.  Then his features twisted again and his brow furrowed into a glare as those black pools began to swirl with lighting streaks.

Hwoarang smacked the brunette again and again.  He put more strength into each hit until he balled his fist and drove it across Jin's cheek, knocking the other man over.  He stood over Jin, looking down at the half-naked body of a man with black wings and tribal tattoos covering his body.  "Get up, Kazama!  Time for me to kick your ass!"  He reached down to grab Jin by one of his horns and haul him into the air.  The brunette looked at him with fierce, black eyes and swung out to crack the Korean across his jaw.  Hwoarang staggered back, rubbing his jaw and checking to see if any of his teeth had been knocked out.  "Kazama?" he asked, cautiously.

"Yes," Jin answered, wings quivering but his eyes black and void of Devil's influence.

Hwoarang let out a relieved breath.  "Um, nice horns?" he said, eyeing the two bony spirals that towered from his rival's forehead as the other man advanced on him.  Jin bared his teeth in a feral grin that sent a shiver up the Korean's spine, and took a step out to meet the redhead.

They stopped inches apart; Jin reached up to absently feel out his rival's injured shoulder.  "Hwoarang?" he asked, hesitating.

"What, Kazama?" the Korean asked, roughly grabbing his rival's neck as he saw a glimmer of light flash in those black eyes.

Jin's mouth curved up in the hint of a smile, his vision clearing again as Hwoarang's presence - his touch - helped him focus on keeping the Devil inside him weak.  "Thanks," he said, almost a whisper as he roughly pulled Hwoarang to meet him in a fierce kiss.

Hwoarang's lips responded quickly to the abuse Jin gave them, repaying the bites and bruises in kind.  He tried to pull Jin to him, but the Japanese man was one step ahead of him, wrapping his clawed fingers around his muscled frame, pulling him close until their naked chests were pressed together.  Hwoarang's cuts were pulled apart, his blood streaking their skin until Jin twisted their positions and firmly gripped his injured arm.

"Ow, fuck!  Yeah, thanks for that!" Hwoarang cursed as he was reminded of his injury.

Jin's eyes stayed dark and focused as he inspected the joint.  "You're welcome," he said, looking up at his rival as his hand snapped upwards, driving the redhead's joint back into place.

Hwoarang didn't get a chance to curse more as he was quickly flung backwards onto the bed.  It seemed to be a theme, but he didn't mind this time.  He quickly flipped himself over, heedless of the cuts on his body and only slightly favouring his newly fixed shoulder.  His wide, brown eyes were locked onto the form before him.  Jin had the body of a god, but the Devil's features made him look more like a demon.  Black, oily wings stretched out, flapped twice to lift the brunette into the air before propelling him onto the bed to crush Hwoarang under his weight.

Jin's horns dug into the mattress as he leaned down to kiss his rival again, claws trying to smooth over the Korean's body but only succeeding in cutting him up more.  He pulled back, bringing his hand up to see the blood glistening on the tip.  He looked regretfully at Hwoarang who shrugged off the new injuries and pulled the clawed hand down to his mouth.

Jin watched the display Hwoarang made of sticking his tongue out to lap at the droplets that glistened at the tip of his talons.  He felt a surge of desire shoot to his groin and for the first time he felt the tightness of his arousal trapped in his pants.  He pushed Hwoarang's hand away and leaned down again, lapping at the Korean's chest with renewed desire.  His rival's blood tasted coppery, very much like his own, but different somehow.  Perhaps it was the knowledge that it was the blood of his rival, and not his?  He tasted it again, licking a path from his stomach until he latched his mouth around a hardening nipple.

Hwoarang's chest arched up into his mouth the moment his teeth clamped down on that erect nub of flesh.  "Fuck, Kazama.  Seems like you know what you're doing," Hwoarang's tone wasn't angry or insulting, although it did hold a hint of taunt that was always in the Blood Talon's voice.  "Guess you're not the shy little virgin I pegged you for after all."

Jin pulled back sharply, anger crossing his features.  He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly shut it.  Hwoarang should have been worried about the resolve that set itself into Jin's features, but he was still reveling in the wit of his statement.  He suddenly realized his mistake when Jin grabbed him roughly with his sharp claws, causing him to cry out.  "Guess I'm gonna have to prove you wrong about a lot of things, then," he said calmly, the same Jin that always said he didn't want to fight was now wrestling with his Korean rival.  His naked, Korean rival.  It was easier to pin a man down if you simply grabbed his erection and squeezed until he stopped moving, and as tough as Hwoarang emulated that he was, he stopped moving instantly and gave Jin his full attention the moment that clawed hand found his cock. 

"Fuck, Kazama!  I'm sorry!  God!" he laid back on the mattress, waiting for Jin to release his manhood so that he could continue to fight him some more.

Jin gave him a sly grin, keeping his tight grip on his rival's cock, only loosening a fraction to allow his hand to move up and down, slowly and roughly jerking Hwoarang to attention.  While his claws were sharp, the palms of his hands were soft and the Korean's frown broke into a feral grin and he relaxed, letting the man with the devil features continue to pleasure him.  "Hmmm, fuck yeah, Kazama.  You do this often, don't you?"  He threw an arm over his eyes and lost himself in the sensations, arching his hips off the bed every few.  It wasn't until Jin slowed his ministrations that Hwoarang raised his head, brow furrowed in annoyance.

"My turn," Jin said simply as he withdrew from the other fighter and he climbed higher on the bed, straddling his rival's chest and reaching into his leather pants to free his prick.

"What?  I don't-!" Hwoarang started to protest, but stopped once a sizeable cock was pressed to his mouth.  The soft skin of the member brushed his lips and he breathed in a heady scent of musk and sweat.  It was warm; he could feel the heat pouring off of Jin's body, the scent that was all-man washing over his senses.  He took another breath and looked up that long, muscular torso to give Jin a frown before parting his lips. 

He snuck his tongue out of his mouth, slowly at first, running it over the tip of the arousal to taste the droplets of precum that clung to the opening.  He wrinkled his nose at the salty, bitter taste.  He wouldn't have gone any further if it had been anybody else but Kazama.  This was different; it was a challenge, and he wouldn't lose.

The Korean closed his almond eyes as he opened his mouth wider.  Jin pressed his erection past the willing lips and Hwoarang fell into step with what he knew was expected.

He discovered that it was easier than he'd thought it would be.

Disturbingly so.

He kept his eyes closed and wrapped his lips tightly around the erection that was eagerly pushed into his mouth.  He was no stranger to receiving blowjobs and knew exactly what set him off, but didn't know if Jin liked the same.  He experimented; taking the flesh deeply into his mouth until he thought he'd gag and quickly pulled back.  So it was his first time giving head; there were other things that he liked besides being deep-throated.  He built up the suction in his mouth, being sure to keep his lips tightly sealed, and sucked Jin into his mouth again, this time stopping short of going down his throat.

He reached up to grab Jin's hips, steadying the other man's movements and taking control of the pace.  He pulled forward, drawing the raven-haired man in until his mouth was full and then pushed back to draw him out.  Everything was starting off slowly, but Jin should have been grateful that he was doing it at all.  His head moved in time with the pushing and pulling, his tongue swirling along the underside and playing with the gathering of flesh under the head.

He loved it when girls did that.  It was all coming back to him.  He flattened is tongue along the underside, rolling around the girth and bobbed his head more enthusiastically.  He always went wild when the girls nibbled on the underside, and slipped his cock from their mouth and just licked the sides, up and down like a sugar freak with a lollipop.  The heat of their mouth and the cold air when they left his dick glistening with their spit in the cool air… he wanted to do that for Jin.  Correction; he wanted to show Jin he was good at it.  Good at everything.  Better than him.

Never mind that the deep, heady aroma of Jin's arousal was overwhelming his senses and driving straight for his crotch.  The little thrusts that the other man drove into his mouth left him satisfied, and yet, were so erotic they made him want the brunette more.

It was just fucking hot.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd still be able to swing things so he could top again. 

Hwoarang decided to press his advantage and move his hands further back, squeezing the perfect globes of Jin's ass.  He sucked hard on the cock in his mouth and pulled that ass apart, inching his fingers inside.  It was so warm and his cock twitched against his navel, as if it was agreeing that it wanted to be pushed into the brunette again.

Jin chuckled above him, breathy and amused.  "Not bad," he pulled back and climbed down and between the redhead's legs.  "But don't think it'll change things," he grabbed the Korean's knees and spread them apart, the Tae Kwon Do training having made him flexible and eased the pain as Jin spread him open.  He only opened his mouth to protest when his knees were resting firmly against the mattress and Jin was reaching down to press a claw into his ass.

"The fuck you think you're doing, Kazama?"  He wriggled to try and get up, but Jin quickly reached out to hold his legs down again.  "Fine!  I'll let you fuck me, Kazama, but I'll be damned if you push that fucking talon inside me!"

"Huh?" Jin looked down at his hand and realized that he still had the demon's claws.  "Oops!"

"Yeah, I'll oops you, Kazama!  Let me fucking do it!"  Hwoarang angrily reached down his body, past his cock (that he would have preferred to play with) and found the puckered opening that shrunk away from his touch.  "Y'know, this really should be your asshole," he said, looking up at Jin as he brought his finger to his mouth to coat it in spit.

Jin didn't say a word; his dark eyes were mesmerized by the show that Hwoarang was putting on, his every complaint just making it more perfect.  He tightened his grip on his legs, trapped by his own will to hold him still and helpless as he watched Hwoarang push a spit-slicked finger into his own asshole.  His dark eyes watched the redhead move, heavy-lidded with hazy thoughts of desire.  In and out, in and out the Korean's finger inched deeper and deeper with each stroke.  The puckering skin folded around it as it moved and resisted only slightly as a second finger was pushed in next to the first.  The pace of his hand never faltered as Jin climbed off the bed and began to discard his remaining clothes.

Hwoarang kept his legs spread as best he could, the act more difficult without his rival's help, but he managed.  His pucker clenched around his fingers, resisting the invasion wholeheartedly and he grunted in annoyance.  The friction was lovely, but dry fucking wasn't an option.  He brought his fingers to his mouth again, deciding at the last minute to spit on them without putting them in his mouth.  He slid his hand down his body again, bringing it to his entrance and pushing the spit-slicked digits inside.  The cold saliva warmed quickly and it was easier to push in deeper to the second knuckle.

The bed shifted as Jin climbed back on, taking his place between Hwoarang's legs and spreading them apart with his clawed hands.  The remainder of his clothing was in a pile on the floor and he wore only a smile and the charcoal wings that still stood proud from his back.  "Ready?" his voice was deep and husky, proof of his own readiness hung between his legs, its weight keeping it from springing against his abdomen.

The Korean moaned as he saw Jin's manhood; he was going to be hurting afterwards.  "Gimme a sec, Kazama!  Fuck!"  he pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to lubricate them again.

A lecherous look crossed Jin's features and he spread the redhead's legs further apart and leaned closer to the loosening opening.  He puckered his lips and slowly released a glob of spit, letting gravity pull it from his lips into Hwoarang's asshole.  A long tendril of saliva trailed between Jin's mouth and the entrance, becoming longer as he pulled away.

Hwoarang shuddered, quickly moving his hand back to prepare himself faster.  "God, Kazama," he breathed, suddenly finding his pace and easily sliding both fingers in as far as he could.  "Just… let me do this…" his brow furrowed in concentration as his hand worked at an increasing pace, pushing a third finger in before his cock twitched its approval.

He pulled his fingers out, the ring of muscle easing closed behind them but still pliant and ready to be stretched by something far larger.  "Fuck, Kazama," he breathed, letting his head fall back against the mattress.  "I'll bet you just can't wait to be on top for once."

Jin rolled his eyes, a broad grin spreading across his face as he spread his own saliva across his cock.

"You know I'll be the one fucking you after this, right?"  Hwoarang said, holding his legs apart as Jin pressed the tip of his cock against his pucker. 

"Hwoarang?" Jin asked, pausing on the threshold of his rival's entrance.

"What?"

"Shut up," he said, snapping his hips forward and burying the entirety of his cock in the Korean's body.

Hwoarang grunted through clenched teeth, the sudden invasion, while not entirely unpleasant, was still a shock.  "God DAMN, you asshole!"

Jin looked down at his rival with dark, wide eyes.  "Are you… okay?"

"Fuck, how'd you like to have a cock jammed in YOUR ass?" he balled his fists in the sheets beneath him.

"I have," Jin said, starting to pull out.  "If you can't take it…"

"Ohhh no!" Hwoarang said, glaring up at the man above him.  "I can take it.  Just relax!"

Jin smirked and stopped his withdrawal.  "You are the one who should be relaxing," he said, resisting the instinct to thrust into that tight heat again.  It was torture, standing on the precipice of something so divine and overwhelmingly tempting.  It took all of his resolve to keep from snapping his hips forward and driving into the body beneath him again and again.  "Hwoarang… I've gotta…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever Kazama," the redhead said, that same taunt in his voice.  "I'm ready, so fuck me, but if you think I'm going to lie back and think of England, you've got another thing coming."  He thrust up against his rival, allowing the other man to sink deep into his body until his hips were pressed firmly against the backs of his thighs.

Jin's head bowed over Hwoarang, his eyes closed and a look of concentration on his face.  His once impressive horns seemed to have receded, since Hwoarang noticed, with some relief that he wasn't at risk of losing an eye in the act.  The black wings shifted above them, spreading out and leaving a few inky feathers to fall about the pair as they began to move together.

Hwoarang held onto Jin's arms, his legs comfortably flung over either of his rival's shoulders and he was free to enjoy the ride.  It wasn't the first time he'd allowed himself to be taken, although he'd be the first to admit that he never thought he'd ever spread his legs for Jin Kazama.  He didn't have much maneuverability in the position he was in, so he contented himself with clenching his ass around Jin's thick cock.  "Looks like you're gonna come first, Kazama," he chuckled, rolling his hips against the force of Jin's thrusts.

A grunt and gasp was the only noise that escaped the usually stoic man.  He wordlessly shifted his weight, bracing himself on one arm and reached down to palm the Korean's manhood.  He continued his thrusting, never breaking the rhythm that he'd established as he began jerking the swollen cock in time to his movements.

"Oh, fuck!" Hwoarang moaned, drawing out the vowels as he braced his now-free leg on the bed to meet the thrusts of the man above him.  He was quickly losing control of his resolve to last.  "D-don't think," he breathed.  "don't… oh god…" he couldn't finish his taunt.  His stunning red hair pooled on the bed as his head fell back and he stared wildly up at his rival above him.  Jin Kazama was above him, fucking him, and doing a damn fine job of it too!

"Looks like," Jin panted, his face red from the effort.  "You're the one that can't think… oh, fuck!  Jesus, do that again!"  He ground down against the man beneath him and Hwoarang was only to happy to squeeze his ass around Jin's prick once more.  Both men were quickly approaching release.  Each moaning obscenities under their breath as their fast-paced fucking continued.  Each movement against the other was magnified; each breathy curse or endearment rang clear in their ears amidst a chorus of wordless moans and gasps.

It was only when Hwoarang went to angrily scratch down Jin's back that he discovered the wings were gone.  Receded back into the Japanese man or vanished into thin air, it didn't matter.  The only thing left was a dusting of charcoal-black feathers draped across the brunette's shoulders that sent a spark through Hwoarang's belly.  "Jin your-" he started, pulling back a fistful of feathers.  Upon hearing his name Jin leaned forward to capture the Korean's lips with his own, wetly kissing him with a wanton tongue. 

Hwoarang was lost.  Completely and utterly lost, and he felt a fire burning deep within his groin that rippled outwards with shocking strength.  He breathed heavily against Jin's mouth, the feathers forgotten as his cries became short and incoherent.  Warning and yet accentuating the mindless state he was in.  "Ji-Ji-Jin!" the name was accompanied by a loud, hissing cry that Hwoarang vocalized signaling his release as Jin continued driving deep into his constricting entrance.  The brunette continued to push until his own orgasm finally released itself through his frame and he choked out Hwoarang's name as his body shuddered violently.  His cries were less vocal than the man beneath him, but his exhaustion was clearly visible as he lowered himself onto the redhead and rested heavily against him.

Hwoarang let the bulk of his rival fall upon him, the afterglow of his release still holding him in a haze of bliss.  It wasn't until he had trouble breathing that he finally heaved the other man off of him.  Jin rolled wearily onto his side, throwing an arm across his forehead and he let out an exhausted, but satisfied sigh.  Hwoarang did the same before the silence in the room got to be too loud for his ears.  He had to fill it with something.  "Well, Kazama, that wasn't half bad!"

Jin's eyebrow quirked up and he rolled his head to look at the other man.

"Not as good as I was," the redhead continued, ignoring the tired glare he was getting.  "Of course, that doesn't mean that I wouldn't let you do it again…"

He was silenced as Jin pressed a hand against his mouth; effectively stopping the Korean's flapping lips.  "Hwoarang," he started, his voice calm and commanding except for the exhaustion in his words.  "I know it's difficult for you to stop talking, but shut up."  His hand slid from those lips and fell heavily against his forehead again, he shifted slightly, trying to become more comfortable and closed his eyes.

"That's right," Hwoarang said, yawning loudly.  "Better get your beauty sleep, cuz I'm still going to kick your ass tomorrow…" he climbed off the bed and picked the blankets up from the end of the bed where they'd kicked them.  He threw them haphazardly across Jin's body and walked through a cluster of black feathers on the floor on his way to the bathroom.  "Y'know that demon thing has fucking sharp claws, right?" he yelled as he peered into the mirror, inspecting the scratches on his body.  Jin didn't answer and Hwoarang cursed as he began to wash out his wounds.  It would be that demon's fault if he lost the tournament.  He was injured even before his first fight, not to mention the soreness in his ass.

In the mirror he could see the reflection of the damaged wall where that beast's horns had gone through the plaster and cinder block.  A sensible man might have realized just how close he'd come to death, see the hole in the wall, the damage an involuntary move had caused and thank god that it hadn't been his body that had taken the hit.  A sensible, smart man might stop pursuing Jin Kazama altogether, forget his pride and leave the hotel room that very moment before the devil inside the quiet Japanese was triggered again.  A sensible, smart, sane man wouldn't simply finish bandaging his wounds and return to crawl into bed next to Jin, but Hwoarang had never been accused of being such things and he wouldn't give up on Jin so easily.  He'd win the tournament, but then… he'd want more.  A victory over the other man was one thing, but there was a new desire burning inside him.  He'd laugh if someone told him it was love, but there was some… connection that he didn't understand.  Whatever it was, he wouldn't let the other man just walk away after this was done.  He settled down into bed and tugged a corner of the blankets over his aching frame.  Jin was hogging most of them, but he managed to tug enough out for himself before rolling away and pressing his back against the sleeping man behind him.  His first fight was in a few hours and he just knew that whoever it was, it'd be rough, but he'd enjoy making Jin pay for it afterwards.

+++

Lee Chaolan leaned back in his executive chair, the soft leather barely making a sound as it relented under his muscular body.  "My, my," he hummed to himself.  He stretched languidly in his seat before standing and leisurely making his way to the bar to re-fill his brandy glass.  His silver hair took on an ethereal glow in the dim lighting of the wall of monitors and his dark, almond eyes sparkled with interest as he looked up from the drink to one monitor in particular.  A voice command enlarged the image until it spanned all the screens on the wall.  "Dear brother," he said, swirling the glass before inhaling the strong aroma.  "It would seem that you are all that stands between me and the Zaibatsu…" he took a small sip as he settled down into his chair once more, his velvet trousers sliding against the leather and he sunk deep into the plush cushioning.  His dark eyes peered up at the image of his brother, Kazuya Mishima, as he paced within his assigned hotel room.  The dark man, who was only older than Lee by a year or two at most, was like a caged animal pacing his room.  He was clearly displeased at the surprise meeting him when he arrived at the tournament, and the Silver Devil was happy to see that the extra money he'd paid to ensure that Kazuya made it to his room was well worth it.  He'd gone all out for his brother, setting him up in one of the penthouse suites (not that he'd done it for the other man's comfort).  While the irritation etched across the Japanese man's face was priceless to the Chinese fighter, it was only prudent planning that had placed him in one of the largest rooms in the hotel.

Lee swirled the brandy in his glass, lightly touching the rim to his lips and tilting it back to taste the heady but sweet almond flavour.  The drink warmed his throat as it filled his mouth and washed down into his belly.  He ran a hand down his form, stopping to rub his open palm against the stiffening arousal that was trapped in his designer pants.  His brother had no idea what was coming, and the only thing more satisfying than defeating him in battle, Lee had decided, was to watch the older man in an all-out battle against one of the more deadly fighters to arrive for the tournament, and losing the battle, of course.  The Silver Devil would have liked to be the one standing over Kazuya's immobile body, but he'd settle for watching it instead… it would allow him to fully enjoy it.

The deal he'd struck with the fighter, Feng Wei, had been more difficult to orchestrate than the other arrangements he'd made for the tournament.  His quick thinking and silver tongue had saved his life during the meeting and bought his brother's humiliation at the same time.

Lee stretched his legs and propped his feet up on the mahogany desk in front of him while leaning back into the leather seat in relaxed anticipation.  After he filmed his brother's defeat, he'd take the Mishima Zaibatsu for his own.  With the money and power that brought, he'd arrange many more chance encounters between the fighters that returned to the King of Iron Fist Tournament time after time.  His voyeuristic tendencies had always been something of a difficulty to indulge fully, but with a venue like the tournament and the deed to the hotel in his personal safe, he'd found the perfect way to satisfy his fetish. 

A light shone on the desk console and he smirked; Kazuya would have to wait.  He gave another command and the full-screen image shrunk to one monitor and Lee focused his attention on another.  The next show was about to start in his perverted little game.  He maximized the image across the screens and watched the pieces fall into place; the next couple forced together against their will yet, with some minor arrangements, eventually succumbing to their more base desires and putting on a private, adult show for the Silver Devil.  With so many attractive and interesting targets, Lee Chaolan was beginning to see that money really could buy happiness.