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Japanese Accommodation	By : Salysha Category: +S through Z > Tekken Views: 2468 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Tekken and Tekken characters are the property of Namco Limited. This is nonprofit fan fiction.

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- 1-Japanese Accommodation
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Disclaimer: Tekken and Tekken characters are the property of Namco Limited. This is nonprofit fan fiction.

Warnings: Slash, yaoi, m/m romance. Mature sexual themes at NC-17 rating. Two stories in one file for your browsing convenience.

Pairing: Jin/Hwoarang

Japanese Accommodation

by Salysha

Ryokan

They took care of pushing the futons together before bedtime, so when the time came to retire, they simply lay down on their mattresses.

The room was completely dark, but as their eyes adapted, the darkness settled to dusky shapes. A while went, and then there was a slight rustle. Jin’s cover was lifted, and Hwoarang moved to his futon. A while after, he placed a hand on Jin’s groin and let it rest there.

Hwoarang chuckled softly. He pulled up and swung a leg over Jin, sitting down. Jin’s hands went to his chest and descended to his pants’ waistline, which was tugged down enthusiastically. Hwoarang lifted himself up and stepped out of his pants before returning on top. He crawled forward just enough to reach a hand back and pull Jin’s pants down. He hovered above as Jin pushed the pants legs off.

The pants crumpled off and out of the way neatly. Hwoarang settled again, but he didn’t stay still for long, despite the delicious pressure. He felt around the tatami mat in the dark and took time to care for the routine. Then, he grabbed Jin’s shaft and positioned himself. He concentrated on finding the right angle and lowered himself sitting down bit by bit.

Hwoarang relished the feeling, free of pressure to move on. Gradually, he leaned forward, hands on both sides of Jin’s head, and took a few teasing, delicious rubs back and forth. He bent low— so close they could feel each other breathing—and the arcs grew from shallow and tentative to deep and secure. Jin wrapped his hands around Hwoarang’s pelvis and pulled him closer. Their breathing sounded heavy in the room. In the dark, eye contact never faltered throughout the wordless exchange.

Later, Hwoarang returned to bed, moving like a shadow across the room, and returned to Jin’s side. Jin scooted over, close, and rested his head against the silky red strands.

City at Night

Hwoarang was staring out the window when the lights went out. Soon after, the gauze-thin curtains started rolling up. Not long after that, he felt a presence behind him.

“It’s breathtaking,” Hwoarang said.

“So are you,” Jin murmured and kissed his shoulder.

Hwoarang gave a laugh, though he was a little abashed. They looked at the city view that stretched before them: lights of all colors, from the comforting gold to the glowing neon, fanned out right and left and into the horizon. All-encompassing, heavenly blue; dark that carried a hint of amber, metallic light. Glass windows everywhere that multiplied the vibrant colors in reflection. Nothing dulled to gray; nothing faded to anything less than a sight full of life.

Hwoarang felt hands on his abdomen. His towel was opened, and it dropped to the floor. The sudden breath of cool air capered on his skin. Jin shifted forward, and the coarse terry sent a heat surge to his skin that subdued the shivers of cold momentarily. Then, Jin’s towel was loosened and cast away, and Jin pressed against him.

Jin was hard, and it stirred him, too. That was a definite dick up against his ass. Jin closed in on him, and Hwoarang sought window panes in the endlessly panoramic glass wall and supported himself against them. Jin was rubbing against him. Jin’s length nestled against Hwoarang in a most debonair manner. The invasion dared further; the thick shaft rubbed against him, masterful. With the helping of a hand, Jin nudged himself closer, and Hwoarang tuned in on the rhythmic grinding, fanning the heat.

The friction of skin lessened momentarily and made way for something thicker. Hwoarang shivered on reflex, but Jin pressed closer, safe and familiar, and the scare was replaced by excitement. Intent on pegging him, Jin lathered his shoulders with kisses as he kept circulating the crown of his shaft against his entrance, searchingly.

The pressure eased momentarily; Jin conjured essentials and left him in a state of infuriating arousal, but his solitude didn’t last long. Soon, Jin was glued to his posterior and testing his back with his teeth and pulling him further behind by the hip. Hwoarang bent his knees for Jin’s benefit—and his own—and sought support from window. He braced one hand against the window pane, but the other he was forced to hold against the glass. He absently minded the fingerprints he was leaving on the unblemished glass, but he soon got something else to think about, as Jin started a painstaking glide in.

Jin patiently stopped halfway and steadily ventured a little deeper. The thrusts had become more fluid and quicker in between, until he bore in all the way. The feedback was instant: Hwoarang held in a cry and sunk against the glass, leaving an imprint upon it.

“Not that far,” he managed.

“Sorry!” Jin was quick to make amends. He eased off until Hwoarang cooled enough, and returned with careful, slow dips at first. He detoured to Hwoarang’s lips, was met with hungry delight, and left much too soon. Shallow thrusts came to bore a little deeper, and Jin settled in his task with ease.

As Jin found the pace and depth that worked for both of them, Hwoarang found that his lips were forming words on their own volition: Hai... hai... hai.... Jin had such vibrant energy that Hwoarang couldn’t spare a hand to rejuvenate his wilting erection.

Before them, the full wealth of the twentieth floor spanned through a window that wasn’t a window, but an entire glass wall. Hwoarang hoped it wouldn’t crumble. It was open and exposed, exhibitionist and endlessly daring.... It was like making out before the Eiffel Tower.

The panorama had become more stylized. The spectral abundance had moderated to an interplay of midnight blue, headlights, and street lamps: an image of a starry night on Earth. Streams of cars passed by in their controlled, orderly fashion, dividing onto lanes just before the building as if adhering to a virtuoso choreography. People were driving them—real people, Hwoarang realized.

“Think anyone can see us?”

Jin stopped and gathered him close. His intimacy made Hwoarang's skin prickle.“The world can see you, baby.”

THE END

Endless thanks to Gypsie (Gypsie Rose) for the proofreading!

Published November 15, 2010.
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Japanese Accommodation