Like Twins

That was probably the strangest night he would ever have the displeasure of enduring. That was a polite way of putting it. Hwoarang didn't believe they were actually clones, but they sure as hell were freakishly similar. Well, some of them anyway. Spending a night with those guys was already a weird experience, especially when that guy who looked just like him – only with more leather – kept taking jabs at him. What had he done to get under that ass' skin?

Hwoarang was laying on his cot, watching Jin while pretending to read a magazine he had no interest in. The godly man – that he hated – was meditating on the bed, looking just as irresistible as ever. He had been undeniably pissed when he realised the dick would be sharing a bed with the 'Blood Talon', and it had taken all his self control to resist telling that bitch to keep his hands off his Japanese. It probably wouldn't have gone over too well, and who knows, they'd have probably got it on just to spite him.

Zekkai had lit a joint and was opening the window to avoid smoking up the room. Despite his consideration, the Blood Talon had quickly become pissy and took off out of the room. Good riddance. There went that competition. At least that meant he could relax for a little while. Even as Zekkai made his way over to sit on the foot of the bed and fiddle with the TV remote, it didn't bother him in the least. After all, there was nothing threatening about that lazy lookalike.

“I can't believe people actually watch this shit... gameshows, gameshows, cartoons, some romance movie, more gameshows...” He flipped through the channels as he took a long drag of the joint. “Oh man, porn! Hey, Jin, would you mind passing me that ashtray?”

It took a little while before the man reacted. With a shrug, Jin reached over to grab it, then tossed it over on the bed next to Zekkai. Luckily it was empty, but it didn't seem like the Japanese had actually checked that. "You owe me one," he said with a smirk, "be glad I was done, or I would have hurt you..."

The corner of the lookalike's mouth curled into a half-grin. Not bothering to spare so much as a glance at the other man, he laid partly on his side, propped up by an arm and moved the ashtray closer to his stomach for easy access. Though he seemed content watching TV, something behind his eyes made it obvious he couldn't care less about the happenings on screen. In a mutter that sounded more like an afterthought, he responded, “Damn, I should have disturbed you earlier.”

Jin stretched out, moving a pillow to the head of the bed and resting his back against it. "You can be the target of my morning exercises." He said in a deeper voice than earlier.

Zekkai tapped the joint against the ashtray, then took another puff. “That's too bad.” He paused to exhale slowly, watching the smoke rise and dissolve. “Not the kind of 'hurt' I was hoping for.”

Well, that guy was really trying hard, but Hwoarang still didn't feel threatened. The guy was much too ineffectual to gain Jin's interest. It seemed the Japanese was intent on mocking the guy too, as he flashed another smirk, speaking in a teasing voice. "Now I'm curious... how were you hoping I'd hurt you?"

The lazy bastard actually shrugged indifferently. What, was he playing hard to get? Nice try, Hwoarang knew that wouldn't work either. Still, Zekkai continued in a bored tone, “I'm not so sure you'd be able to pull it off if you really have to ask. I'll just have to wait until we get to Nebraska where there's someone who can.” He held the joint between his lips as he went back to flipping through the channels. “Maaaan, that gameshow host is hot!”

As expected, that failed to attract the Japanese. He even flashed an amused smirk at Hwoarang. Which was a good sign, but Hwoarang felt the panic rise within him under that gaze. Not wanting to be too obvious, he dropped the magazine and made it clear he was watching. Hopefully that was enough to keep Jin's attention on him instead of that lazy bastard.

For the first time in a little while, Zekkai glanced curiously back at Jin. He remained silent for a few seconds. After a while he grinned playfully and posed the question, “with all of us Hwoarangs obsessed with all of you Jins, how long do you think it will be before someone gets lucky?”

Hwoarang's eyes were glued on Jin after that question, anxiously awaiting the response. The guy certainly took his time, speaking slowly in a thoughtful voice. "Well, Babo and Doormat are obviously getting lucky tonight. I don't see either of you two getting lucky with Hiro or Kazama. Which leaves me." He grinned lightly at that, adding casually, "I don't know. I like my ukes obedient and bound, and good dirty talk turns me on to no end. But you know better than me what you're willing to do to get lucky."

Was that some sort of hint? They weren't actually flirting, were they? Hwoarang grimaced at the idea, wanting to say something to bring a close to that ticking time bomb of a conversation, but he couldn't think of anything that wouldn't just make him sound jealous. Instead of speaking, he cracked his knuckles and shifted on the cot to lay on his stomach, snatching the magazine back up, and this time he really tried to pay attention to reading it. Let them hit on each other like heifers in heat! 'See if I care,' he thought.

“What I'm willing to do,” Zekkai's annoying voice was laced with a mildly suggestive tone, “depends largely on how badly the master makes me want it. You can probably understand, I ain't about to get on my knees and beg a man if I don't think he can satisfy me...” He frowned thoughtfully and then asked in a way that made it obvious how important the question was, “Do you like the taste of blood, Jin?”

The Japanese's brow furrowed in thought for a moment. "Not my own." He finally answered, then reached into a pocket, pulling out a metal chain. "I understand your stance perfectly. Likewise, unless I'm confident I'll have a great time, nobody gets to feel this", he started stroking the chain with a finger, "around their wrists... or neck."

The lookalike's eyes hungrily took in the sight of the chain. It lasted a few moments before he snapped out of whatever daydream the metal had produced, and put the joint out in the ashtray. “I'm a little surprised. The Jin I knew wouldn't be caught dead carrying around something like that. He was caring, considerate... a hopeless romantic, and that is exactly why I didn't choose him. But you're... You're fucking perfect.”

Something so simple as a compliment was more than enough to snatch Hwoarang's attention so completely that he forgot that he was in the middle of turning the page. His hand slipped and a sting went through his finger. “Goddamnit!” A paper cut? Great. He cursed at himself but quickly looked over to watch the other two, willing them to hate each other.

The statement seemed to really hit home with Jin. Reaching over to his bag with a grin, he pulled out a black rolling-pin covered with neatly arranged metal spikes. He brought it up to his mouth, giving the edge a slow, teasing lick with his eyelids drifting lustfully half-closed. "If you worship me," he said through a hiss, "I will hurt you."

Zekkai swallowed hard and got on his knees to crawl further onto the bed. Apparently the sight of that weird contraption triggered the slut inside the lazy bastard. His breathing became slightly unsteady with anticipation and he managed a low whisper, “I take back what I said about doubting you'd be able to pull it off... I'm beginning to suspect that man in Nebraska has nothing on you.”

"You're right. He's got nothing on me." Jin said confidently, then slipped the chain back in his pocket. Starting to tap the rolling-pin gently against his free hand, his dark gaze drifted from Zekkai to Hwoarang, settling firmly on the redhaired lookalike when it returned. "What about you? What makes you worth my while?"

“You can be sure I'll obey you because I want everything you have to offer more than you'll ever know. I'll worship the ground you walk on and...” Zekkai flashed a devious smirk. “Unlike someone around here, I won't sulk in a jealous funk every time you so much as lay eyes on another person.”

Hwoarang bared his teeth, seething with anger. He had to take a deep breath and close his eyes to avoid jumping on the defensive and just making his possessive desire more obvious.

Flashing a sly smirk, Jin let his eyes wander over the body on the cot. "He is kind of cute like that..." Then he turned back to Zekkai. "But you seem a whole lot more fun." He thought for a bit, then added, "take off your clothes."

Was he serious? Judging by how quick Zekkai was to peel off his wifebeater shirt, he thought so. The lookalike straightened up on his knees as soon as he was topless, and started undoing his own belt. It was quickly discarded on the floor when those man-thieving hands tugged the zipper down...

That was enough! Hwoarang noisily got to his feet and whipped the magazine at the floor. If Jin hadn't been right there, he'd have thrown it at the real object of his fury. “Is this what you do when you can't find anything good on TV? You seduce the nearest thing with balls you can find?” He growled and angrily stomped over to fling the door open before snarling over his shoulder, “Get your own Jin, you filthy bitch.” That said, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

~~~

This is a collab, written together with Chlover. You can find her author profile here:
http://games.adult-fanfiction.org/authors.php?no=26260