Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Intimate Rivals	By : Salysha Category: +S through Z > Tekken Views: 5835 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Tekken or any of the characters in it. I do not make any money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
This chapter features romance at NC-17 rating.

--

Chapter 9: A Night in Town

Hwoarang’s not all right. It was the first time that Steve had spoken to him since the incident, and Jin saw that he was edgy. Steve mumbled something about training or a game or a match--whichever it was, not a word had sunk in since Jin had puzzled out the message and the crippling dread had settled into his gut. Anything else had been meaningless, as Jin had embarked on a quest to find Hwoarang. The anxiety that had been building up exploded when he found the room empty, and none of the common areas showed signs of the redhead.

Now, Hwoarang drooped before him, but Jin’s joy at finding him was short-lived. Something was so wrong; Hwoarang was wrong....

“I’ll come with you,” he repeated. “Will you wait for me here? I won’t take two minutes.”

Hwoarang looked through him miserably, but he nodded.

“Please wait,” Jin said softly. With one last glance at Hwoarang, he charged to the house and made a straight course to their room. He shook his backpack empty and packed a change of clothes. He didn’t think twice about going through Hwoarang’s things and stuffing clothes for him in the bag. He flipped his wallet and phone on top of the pile and left.

He was back downstairs in record time. Just as he was about to zip through the front door, he caught a flash of blond out of the corner of his eye. He halted to see Steve Fox looking at him. He nodded his okay to Steve. Steve responded alike, but then looked away. Without a second glance, Jin strode on his way.

He had been anxious to get out, but relief washed over him when he found Hwoarang still there, sitting against a tree beside his bike and staring off into the distance. “Hey,” he said quietly.

Hwoarang got up dejectedly. He went to the bike and grabbed the handles before taking a good look at Jin. “Fuck.” The curse came out like a sob. “Fuck, I... I don’t have a helmet for you.” He looked Jin over so miserably, Jin’s heart ached.

“You aren’t using one,” Jin pointed out, but Hwoarang waved him off.

“No, it doesn’t matter. But I haven’t got two, I’ve only one....” Where had he stuck the damn thing? It was somewhere in the house. He’d have to go back for it.

“It’s fine. I don’t need it,” Jin tried.

Hwoarang looked undecided, but he shook his head in exasperation. No one cared if he cracked his skull, but Jin was different. “No, I--” He abandoned the bike and started for the house. He had to-- He was stopped by Jin’s grasping his arm.

“If you don’t have a helmet, I won’t take one. You can’t change my mind... no matter how much you argue,” Jin added, when Hwoarang looked about to talk back. His eyes were sympathetic, but his tone left no room for doubt.

No one else trusted him worth a damn, but Jin Kazama seemed to place faith in him beyond a motorcycle ride. Hwoarang quickly turned his head away. He also had the impression he wasn’t going to win this time, and Jin was going to be as obstinate as he was. “Hold on tight, okay?” he said.

Hwoarang nudged the kickstand out of the way. He got on the bike and felt Jin mount behind him. Something occurred to him then. “You know how to ride a bike, Kazama?” he asked, and the corner of his mouth crept up.

“I’ll try,” Jin said just as good-humoredly, as Hwoarang started the engine.

“You can hold onto the bike...,” Hwoarang started, but Jin had already grabbed the grips on the back. ...or me. “Don’t make any sudden moves.”

With that, they took off. Hwoarang started slowly, acutely aware that he had a passenger whose thighs brushed against him, but when the bike advanced unfalteringly, and Jin gave no signs of falling off or leaning the wrong way to knock them both over, he gradually picked up speed. By the time they had navigated off the dirt roads on the estate and onto the main road, the current arrangement had proven to work, and Hwoarang accelerated to road speed.

--

They had been riding for half an hour. The roads were empty, and driving took little concentration. The endless straight lanes were nothing but tree-lined routes, void of people and distractions, and they gave Hwoarang time to think. The more his thoughts progressed nowhere, the more cornered he felt. He kept his eyes on the road so tightly, it hurt. He blinked against the sting in his eyes, but it didn’t help. The moment he woke to driving on the left side and barely stopped himself from switching to the right, he knew he had to take a break.

He pulled over to the first rest area he saw. It was a cozy little spot by the woods, just as abandoned and forsaken by God as they and everything they had passed by so far. Jin rose from behind him as he parked the bike. “Sorry. I just had to, uh, go.” He hoped Jin mistook his vagueness for a need to piss and took off. He kept going until he was sure the trees covered the view from the roadside. Then, he strode off some more until he dropped on the ground, sat against a tree trunk with his back to the road, drew his knees to his chest, and closed his eyes.

--

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there. Time had stood still to him and left scratch marks on his heart with each tick and every tock, but time must have passed. His eyes shot open, and he woke to the world at the sound of quiet footsteps stopping by his side. He knew without looking who it was.

“What’s wrong?”

Jin’s voice was infinitely kind, but Hwoarang couldn’t face him. He tried, but he faltered midway and drew his head the other way sharply and shook it. He didn’t want Jin to see him like this, but there was nothing he could do to prevent it. He had lost his dignity and Jin’s respect, and all that the once-unbeatable Blood Talon could do was look the other way.

He more sensed than saw Jin kneel, and he shook his head again, distressed. He wanted to be left alone. A hand landed to his bicep, but he recoiled from Jin’s touch and shoved the hand away. His breaths were coming out in shakes, and he was losing the battle. He couldn’t take Jin’s kindness on top of everything else.

Then, just as he thought he had hurt Jin’s feelings to make him go away, and just as he was about to hate himself more for it, Jin wrapped his arms around him. “No....” He tried to pry himself away, but Jin wouldn’t let go.

Hwoarang wanted to push him off, but he couldn’t. “No,” he choked. “Don’t.”

“I won’t say anything.” Jin’s voice was shaky.

That did it. Hwoarang buried his head into Jin’s shoulder and gripped him like a lifeline. Jin embraced him tightly, heedless to the almost-painful strength Hwoarang grasped him with, and rested his head beside Hwoarang’s.

Hwoarang didn’t cry. He didn’t shake uncontrollably, but he did hold on to Jin tight enough to dig his fingertips into Jin’s back through the jacket and carve red pressure marks that faded away quickly. Jin simply held on, offering his body for a sanctuary. At some point, he drew a hand to the back of Hwoarang’s neck and stroked the short hairs there while burrowing deeper.

The instant Hwoarang showed signs of wanting to detach, Jin carefully released him and drew back. He waited at an arm’s length, mindful to turn a blind eye to Hwoarang’s efforts to compose himself. That was when he first noticed a tremble. “You’re cold,” he said sadly and ran a palm along Hwoarang’s bicep down to his forearm. The goose bumps were tangible.

Hwoarang looked abashed. “Yeah, well....” Jin’s palm was warm and felt good on his bare arm. Jin was warm and felt good all over him. He knew Jin was averting eye contact to avoid embarrassing him, and that felt incredibly good. He felt good. “I better get up,” he said. He was sheepish and yet felt oddly euphoric.

Jin rose first. Once on his feet, he offered a hand to Hwoarang, who accepted it and was hoisted up in one strong pull. Their joint coordination was flawless. Hwoarang took a couple of steps back and forth before swiping his behind clean of grass and undergrowth. Standing at full height, as equals now, he and Jin finally ventured a look in each others’ eyes. Jin gave a small, sympathetic smile. Almost without volition, they wrapped their arms around each other; Hwoarang entwined an arm around Jin’s shoulder, while Jin wrapped both his arms around Hwoarang’s back. They locked into an embrace.

Hwoarang’s breath sounded right in Jin’s ear, warm and wet. He squeezed Jin’s shoulder. Then, he unexpectedly placed a kiss on Jin’s cheek and loosened his hold, and Jin understood. Hwoarang raised a brow and nodded toward the road, and Jin inclined his head. They started back to the rest area side by side.

“Fuck... do you suppose someone’s stolen the bike by now?” Hwoarang ran hands along his arms and forearms and sneezed. That would be a riot.

“Unlikely. I took the keys,” Jin confessed. He dug the set out of his pocket.

“Hm. Smart,” Hwoarang complimented. “Thanks.” He held a hand out.

Jin delayed. “Maybe you’d like me to drive, if you’re not feeling well?” he said and cast Hwoarang a sideways glance.

As expected, Hwoarang sprung to life instantly. “Hand ‘em over, Kazama!” he sputtered.

Jin complied, and Hwoarang glared at him hard, still scandalized. They walked on before Hwoarang’s head jerked suddenly and his eyes shot to Jin. He gave a hard look, but then he had to watch his step. When he turned again, a smirk was tugging at his lips. Jin’s eyes were searching for his. In unison, they exchanged grins.

They made it to the bike, which waited where they had left it. Jin’s backpack rested against the back tire, untouched as well. They were still as secluded as ever: safe, if somewhat abandoned.

While Hwoarang strolled to the other side, Jin dug into the bag. “Here,” he presented his findings.

Hwoarang gaped. “You have my jacket?”

It was Jin’s turn to look bashful. “I went through your things. Forgive me. I thought you’d need it.”

“No, no.... Dig all you want,” Hwoarang said in surprise. He donned the jacket and literally sighed in relief when it covered his arms. “Thanks, Jin. I didn’t really think it through....” He quickly zipped the front. He was feeling warmer already, but it wasn’t from the jacket.

Jin’s anxiety melted into relief. He waited until Hwoarang had finished securing the fastener that protected his neck from the wind.

“So... are we still going to the city?” Hwoarang asked all too casually for someone so engrossed in fixing his sleeve cuff. “Are you really okay with missing a day? I know it wasn’t your plan.”

“I think we should,” Jin said honestly. “I’d like that.”

“Me, too.” Hwoarang flashed a quick smile. “It’s going to take a couple of hours still, if we take these roads. Is that fine? With the helmets and all, I think we should keep a low profile.” He brushed a hand through his hair.

“Fine by me,” Jin agreed.

Having reached agreement, they mounted the bike and took off. The road speeds were still as ridiculous as before, but Hwoarang was in different spirits now. They had the whole day to themselves. It hit him that he was really going somewhere with Jin, away from the fighting circles. They were doing things together, like a real couple. He was still glad Jin couldn’t hear his thoughts or see the light flush on his face.

They rode on, incident-free just like before, until after some ten minutes of riding, Jin let go of the grips and wrapped his arms around Hwoarang’s waist. Some time later, on the isolated roads, he rested his head to Hwoarang’s back.

--

They stopped for gas at a self-service station, and that was the last event before they neared their destination. Jin pulled himself upright, seeking a hold of the bike again. Hwoarang parked on the outskirts of the city, and they set out on foot. Hwoarang fished a bandanna out of his pocket and covered his head; Jin, in turn, veiled his visage with a hood. They weren’t overly concerned about being recognized, but they hoped to avoid awkward questions from being seen in town--or together--in the middle of the tournament.

They hadn’t really had a plan for the day, but they ended up going to the gym. The unanimous choice was easy to make, though it sparked sly smirks and quips thrown back and forth about the “day off.” Working out was something they both enjoyed, though, and the discovery of decent sweats for the both of them in Jin’s haphazard packing sealed the deal.

The food court they went to afterward catered to several varieties of Asian cuisine: Korean, Japanese, Chinese, Malaysian, and Indonesian. Of the same mind, they sampled a set of portions and crowded a booth between the two of them. When put together, the amount of food incited a set of guilty looks and self-conscious grins. Hwoarang put an end to the awkwardness.

“I don’t know about you, but I haven’t had a decent meal in days.” He dug into his dish with enthusiasm that mesmerized Jin for a moment. A sampling of spicy stew, along with a helping of rice, got harvested and placed into Hwoarang’s mouth in record time. His eyes fluttered for a moment. “Damn, that feels good. So, what I’m saying is I’m not counting.” He flashed a grin and attacked another box.

Jin couldn’t help to be amused, but he silently agreed, and Hwoarang’s heartiness spurred him to dig into his food with a grin.

They ate in comfortable silence, even venturing to sample each other’s portions and feeling oddly shy when they realized they were doing it. Other people ate and set out on their way, but they were free to indulge in dining out in peace. They occupied the booth by themselves, and if their hands touched accidentally as they were eating and their knees brushed against each other’s, for two big guys like them, it was only natural.

--

“We should head back,” Hwoarang said and glanced at Jin. The evening had descended early. “It’s still a ways back if we want to make it before the night.”

Jin seemed restless when he nodded. He searched the sky, but beyond the city lights, the sky was relentlessly dark and gave him no answers.

“I’ve had some to drink, but I’m not too drunk to drive,” Hwoarang ventured.

To suggest that Hwoarang could be drunk was an obvious lie, and they both knew it. They had gone to a bar and spent nearly two hours talking back and forth. They had struck common ground about training, and the talk had expanded to any martial arts from there. Jin had evaded questions about his changed fighting style, but they had shared stories and had a few good laughs in cozy camaraderie. Nothing too personal, but just nice, casual, and friendly. Not even the occasional silence had discomfited them. Amid the chatting, Hwoarang had barely touched his beer, and Jin’s had lain just as deserted, along with the other drinks they had ordered to stay in the barkeep’s good graces.

“Unless... unless you want to stay here for the night. Get a room, sleep a good night. Leave in the morning.” He felt calm suggesting it, but he couldn’t tell what Jin was thinking. “We could just go to sleep without someone making a noise next door. But... hey, let me hit the bathroom. Let’s decide then,” Hwoarang said and disappeared into the public toilet he had set his sights upon. It wasn’t an excuse; he really had to go, but as he found himself washing his hands for the third time, he couldn’t help thinking that maybe he was stalling a little.

Jin was waiting for him outside once he returned. Hwoarang noticed he looked a little apprehensive, and he couldn’t help feeling a tinge of sadness, even if he put on a brave face. They stepped out of the way.

Jin looked and sounded so hesitant, Hwoarang didn’t grasp at his words at first. “I saw a vending machine over there,” he said quickly and placed a fistful of stuff into Hwoarang’s palm.

Hwoarang accepted the offering without thinking before taking a look. He stared at the items on his palm in incomprehension. Then, realization hit: Jin had given him a packet of condoms. Blinking, he rolled the other item in his fingers, a little too long and openly. The tube only had Japanese script on it. It had to be-- Hwoarang’s eyes shot at Jin.

He realized he was staring when Jin’s resistance finally broke and he looked like he wished the ground would swallow him up. He seized Jin by the arms, startling him. He had never wanted to kiss anyone so badly, but they were in public. “We get a room.” The thought made his heart flutter from joy.

Before his eyes, Jin’s countenance changed. Delight replaced the awkwardness, and Hwoarang got a timid nod. His urge to want to kiss Jin didn’t diminish, onlookers be damned, but he settled on running his hands along Jin’s arms earnestly before pulling back.

He was making a scene out of this. People did this sort of thing all the time; it wasn’t that big a deal. He pocketed the goods with an embarrassed laugh, but as he looked at Jin and saw those beautiful bedroom eyes, he knew it was a big deal. “Let’s go,” he said gently and pulled Jin by the arm.

“Should we get your bike first?” Jin asked.

“Screw the bike.”

“What?” Motorcycles had been a part of their conversations more than once.

Hwoarang grinned at Jin’s upshot brows. “It’s rental; I didn’t bring mine here. It’s going to be fine overnight, right? So, we get it in the morning.”

“If you say so....”

“I say so. Besides, I’m not thinking about the bike now,” Hwoarang assured, sure to sound as sly as he could.

Jin, in turn, looked pleased if bashful.

--

A suitable hotel was found on foot. They steered clear of the neon-signed love hotel offering “rest” with unanimous bashfulness and went on until a reasonable, Western-style hotel chanced in view. They got the room easier than Hwoarang had fathomed. He had been prepared to fabricate a background story--they were here on a sporting tournament, the airline had lost their luggage, and they were just looking for a place for the night. Why not share a room, if it wasn’t a bother? In the end, they barely got a glance from the front desk manager--or, more precisely, Hwoarang was barely given the time of day--while Jin spoke and settled the payment for the both of them. They got the key card and were left to find their own way to the eighth floor.

The frenzy had been building all day, but it was unleashed as soon the elevator doors closed. Hwoarang pushed Jin into the wall and kissed him like a starving man, and Jin responded with equal passion. The bling from the elevator made them freeze, and Hwoarang pulled back quickly. They counted their lucky stars when no one was waiting on the other side of the door.

They rushed along the corridor to their door. Jin fumbled with the key card and couldn’t get the door opened at first. His haste increased when Hwoarang pressed against him and rocked his hips to his backside. Hwoarang was kissing his neck when he finally worked out the door, and they scurried in. The door was kicked shut in an afterthought, and then nothing could hold them back. Hwoarang advanced on Jin, who let himself be caught against the wall with a moan, quickly suppressed to their mutual satisfaction when Hwoarang kissed him. Jin tilted his head to match, and the feverish sucking diminished into slower and more sensual, pleasurable kissing. Jin could feel Hwoarang smiling into the kiss before pulling off and releasing him with a slow, longing stroke to his side and an almost shy, tentative look into his eyes.

Hwoarang’s voice was a whisper. “Will you let me... can I do you?”

Jin’s pulse was racing. He looked somewhere past their feet and nodded. They were standing little apart, and he heard acutely how Hwoarang breathed out shakily, and he felt a hand on his chest. He ventured a look, and the wanting he saw made a flush creep to his face. “Let me w-wash up,” he hemmed. Hwoarang let him go with a light brush to his neck, and Jin slipped away and into the bathroom.

Once alone, Hwoarang breathed in deep and focused on his heart’s pounding. He was glad Jin hadn’t made a note of it, although the sound must have been loud enough for everyone to hear. He went to experiment with the light switches and managed to bring about a matte mood lighting. He looked around at the bedroom area for the first time and realized why their room-sharing had flown so smoothly: the furniture in point of interest consisted of two neat single beds. He sank onto the nearest one with a self-conscious laugh; they seemed to have ways to learn yet about handling these things. The beds alone or together still beat their regular accommodation. He emptied his pockets on the bedside table and stuffed the bandanna out of the way.

He got up and tugged the coverlet off. He folded it conscientiously and placed it on the back of a chair. With a second thought, he pulled the sheets open and folded a corner, and then he sat down to wait.

Jin returned shortly, and they had a moment of awkwardness with bumping into each other, getting rid of jackets and shoes, but they ended up standing in the same spot at the same time. The lighting was pleasantly dim and the air inviting.

“We took two beds?” Jin noticed with a start.

Hwoarang grinned. “I know. I didn’t think of it, either.” His voice grew huskier and lower. “It’s still good.”

They were really going to do this. It was a tickling and, yet, an intimidating thought. The only way to go about it was to dive in headfirst and go with the feeling. Hwoarang searched for Jin’s eyes and dipped his head for a soft kiss. Jin melted against his lips, so warm and so endlessly desirable, affection washed over Hwoarang’s gut in heated waves.

The lust was quickly taking over. The kisses grew hastier and rougher and their heart rates picked up; the craze was taking over with each anxious touch. Hands found their ways to fasteners. The space between them grew momentarily as they removed their shirts, but the gap closed when Hwoarang lunged at Jin again. They wrapped themselves in a naked embrace that almost knocked them both over when they forgot to pay attention to their balance. Yet, Hwoarang wasn’t worried: Jin wouldn’t break on him.

Hwoarang ran his fingers steadily along the back of Jin’s neck. He was engulfed in kissing Jin over and over again and being kissed back with ardor that few could have imagined the stoic Jin Kazama to possess. Jin’s hands were pulling his body so close that the pants they still wore could no longer hide their bodies responding.

Their hands went to their flies in one accord, and they started unzipping and tucking their pants down. Their knuckles chafed against each other involuntarily, earning a titter from Hwoarang, who was glad the dark was hiding the red on his face, even if he still felt it acutely. He doted on Jin with a light peck on the lips before focusing firmly on the tenacious straps of his pants. His face felt heated all over, especially since Jin had already cast off his clothes and was standing next to him, observing him with interest. Pleasing though it was, it wasn’t helping with the self-consciousness. Yet, Jin was running warm balms all across his skin where he could reach. Hwoarang cursed his choice of pants profoundly and attacked the straps again.

Finally, he was freed from the pants and underwear, and could rise to face Jin again. Both of them were painfully erect and equally flushed and none the less apprehensive. “Take it to bed... it’s more comfortable.”

Jin took the lead and climbed in. After slight apprehension, he lay on his back openly.

Hwoarang pried the hem of the sheet open and slipped a foot over Jin. He then lifted himself on top, keeping a careful eye on any adverse reactions and mindful not to lie too heavily on top. They had done this before, but they hadn’t been quite so aroused then or quite so... nude. He was acutely aware of Jin making a small guttural noise when their bodies connected. Jin shifted, causing delicious friction.

With trial and error, they found a way to fit their limbs in an entwinement that didn’t risk neutering either of them. Only did then Hwoarang lean down, supporting his upper body with his arms and resting everything from the waist down atop Jin, and started a slow and painstaking torture on Jin’s mouth.

Slowly, he began tracing down a line of kisses along the side Jin’s face and down to his neck. Warm and fond, he lavished Jin’s neck with sucks and licks and kisses, to Jin’s pleasure. He hit the spot when Jin gave a stifled gasp and moved under him. He only agreed to leave the area when he had Jin purring at the attention. He lapped his way down to Jin’s collarbone, slipping out of the weak grasp Jin had on his buttocks, and moved down to work on his chest. Jin squirmed under him and rewarded him with weak murmurs that turned into nonsensical mumbles.

Hwoarang shifted so that he could fit a hand down and started tugging at Jin’s erection. He allowed his own member attention only in passing, but focused on Jin’s heartily. The mumbles transformed into short-winded pants.

Hwoarang kept stroking, but he pulled himself back up to eye level with Jin. He hovered over Jin uncertainly, but then he pushed himself up on his arms. “How do you feel? Think we could--” ...fuck, screw, go all the way, make love... “--you know?” He had the naked Jin Kazama pinned flat beneath him, and trouble believing it.

There was definite rose on Jin’s cheeks now. “Yeah.”

Hwoarang surged down and captured his lips with a smack. They sucked into the joining of lips almost desperately, without holding back. Hwoarang broke the kiss, panting audibly, and raised his upper body. He had been rocking his pelvis against Jin. He quickly stopped the movement he hadn’t realized having been doing.

Hwoarang flopped himself over to the side of the bed, reaching for packet and tube he had set aside earlier. He made it back to the end of the mattress, guarding his erection a little awkwardly. He tested the waters as nonchalantly as he could. “Hey.... Do you suppose you should, umm, you know, face down?”

“I... I should,” Jin mumbled and scrambled up, while Hwoarang handled the packet. He set himself on hands and knees, but then bit his lip and sat on his knees, glimpsing over his shoulder.

Hwoarang nudged him lightly. “Okay,” he said, and Jin positioned himself again. Once Jin’s scrutiny was off him, he applied the condom carefully, grateful to remain so hard it ached, and uncapped the bottle. His hands were trembling as he squeezed translucent gel on the palm of his hand and smoothed it over the head of his penis. He realized that wasn’t enough and pinched more onto his fingers. He daubed some on Jin’s posterior and retracted his fingers quickly.

“All right... here we go,” Hwoarang said and discarded the bottle. He brushed his hands on the sides of Jin’s hips and took his cock in his right hand. On his knees, he edged closer to Jin’s backside.

On all fours, Jin felt the slippery head press against him, and then slowly start to pry its way in. He inhaled sharply and hung his head. “Wait!”

Instantly, the pressure was relieved. “What’s wrong?” Hwoarang asked worriedly.

Jin looked at him over his shoulder, but quickly returned to staring at the headboard. “Could... could we do it face to face?” Jin said in a small voice.

Hwoarang breathed out in relief. “Of course we can.” He patted Jin’s back, almost giddy. “You might need to turn around for that.” He felt like hugging the guy and laughing his heart out. Kazama could be so damn Kazama at times.

Jin turned over, knees bent, glancing up at Hwoarang anxiously. Hwoarang pried his legs gently apart despite the slight resistance and leaned over all the way. He brought his lips upon Jin’s quickly. He rose back up to find Jin more relaxed, legs on both of his sides. He petted Jin’s knees soothingly and glanced down. “I’m gonna need more room.” He looked around. “I know. Lift up a little.”

He proceeded to stuff the blanket under Jin’s hips until he deemed him sufficiently upraised. He was anxious to proceed, but at the same time, Jin was lying before him, exposed and vulnerable. He brought a hand on Jin and ran an arch along the chest muscles and down to the curves of his stomach, finally landing to cup his genitals, and give a stroke on his penis flopped against his stomach. He gently coaxed Jin to raise his legs up against him. “Okay, baby?” he said with a small smile.

Jin nodded.

“All right. Let’s go....” Hwoarang said and readied himself, while Jin took a deep breath and leaned his head back, letting his eyes drift half-closed.

Hwoarang brought the tip of his penis against Jin and started pushing in. Jin’s eyes shot wide open, and he couldn’t hold back a moan. Oh, GOD!

He got a momentary sigh of relief when Hwoarang pulled out and applied more lubricant, but then the pressure returned.

“You have to relax,” Hwoarang whispered. He was having difficulty getting in. It was... harder than he had imagined. He gulped and pulled back. Jin wasn’t protesting, but his eyes reflected pain.

Another approach. They needed another approach. Hwoarang looked around distractedly and snatched the bottle in his grasp.

“Jin, I’ll try smoothing things a little. Is it okay?”

Jin nodded quickly. “Yeah... sorry.”

“No, no. It’s...,” Hwoarang mumbled. He sprayed gel on his fingertips and bit his lip. He had been reluctant to touch Jin... there, but maybe this would help them out. He brought his fingers down and pried one in gently, surprised to see how much care he needed to accomplish as much. His prodded about inside Jin, hoping to get them both more comfortable. An audible gasp broke the uneasy silence.

“Again. Do that again.”

Hwoarang’s heart jumped, but he ran his finger along the same path and felt around the tight walls there. Jin virtually shook as his fingers hit a spot.

“Oh, God.”

A quick grin passed on Hwoarang’s lips: he was doing something right. He sucked at his lip and prodded with another finger, and was having better luck now: Jin was accepting the intrusion and making stifled noises that boosted Hwoarang’s confidence. They weren’t helping with the feverish excitement. He wouldn’t be able to stand it much longer; he wanted to do this so badly.

“Jin...?”

Jin grumbled something agreeable, and Hwoarang drew himself up again and lodged between Jin’s legs firmly. He swept his hand across Jin’s stomach in a caress and went for another attempt. This time, he found Jin opening up to him slowly. He maneuvered himself in.

Hwoarang released his hand from his shaft and braced himself against the mattress, hands on both sides of Jin. He pulled out halfway--and entered again, carefully. And repeated, more fluidly this time. And repeated, faster.

It wasn’t awkward anymore; he was getting the hang of it, his partner had been broken in, and his brain boggled from the sensations. It was so nice and tight, and the squeeze on his penis was incredible. The sensitive nerve endings were on fire, and sending searing vibrations all over his body, until they assaulted his brain in electric shocks.

Jin’s legs had fallen on Hwoarang’s sides, but he wrapped them around Hwoarang’s waist now. Hwoarang couldn’t catch his eyes: blurry black danced in his vision. His yen remained unabated, and he couldn’t hold back; the sheer energy that rushed through him was uncontrollable.

He should have known the peak would come, but the intenseness was incomparable. A throbbing sensation that had only lingered on his genitals spread all over his body, and his stomach muscles clenched as orgasm hit him. For one stunned moment, Hwoarang was in pain, and then pleasure triumphed. He was left to gasp for air as the world was covered in the gray of bliss.

--

“Hwoarang? Are you all right?”

He couldn’t believe Jin was asking him that when he should have been the one to ask Jin. Hwoarang shook with the emotion.

The overload of his senses had him incapacitated. An awareness of his surroundings returned by degrees, and he finally managed to emit a strangulated sound.

Hwoarang startled to reality: he was crushing Jin. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled and pushed himself up to support his weight. Very carefully, he detached himself, earning a sigh from the both of them. He scrambled to his feet. “Gimme a sec.” He couldn’t believe how woozy he was, and he hoped fervently that the weakness would taper off. He struggled to the bathroom.

A while later, he returned, looking much less disorientated, and scrambled back on the bed over Jin, even though he could have crossed to the other side more easily. While climbing over, he halted to smile at Jin, and Jin heaved a sigh of relief. Hwoarang dropped on his back unceremoniously.

He turned his head, and when Jin looked back at him, he touched the side of Jin’s face, a smile on his own. Still smiling, he withdrew his hand and let his head drop on the pillow.

Neither of them spoke, and the descent into silence was sudden and total. Time passed.

“Hwoarang?” Jin whispered.

Hwoarang didn’t respond.

“Hwoarang?”

Jin waited, but nothing broke the silence. Jin raised himself on his elbow... and blinked. And blinked again.

Facing away, Hwoarang was fast asleep.

Jin looked at him in stupefaction, but he had to believe his eyes: Hwoarang was sleeping soundly and silently. Jin sucked at his lower lip and stared ahead of him. He tore his eyes off the wall and swerved off the bed. He swayed until he found his feet and winced as he did. With a look back, he floundered in Hwoarang’s earlier trail.

In the bathroom, he cleaned up and took a moment. He returned to a hushed room that had remained the same in his absence.

Jin fumbled to the backpack and pulled out a pair of black sweats. He looked at his weeping erection sadly and pulled the pants on quickly. He took out another pair of pants and laid them on the bed. He moved to the bedside and pulled the covers over Hwoarang securely. Then, Jin lay down on the other bed and didn’t know what to think.

Big thanks to Gypsie for the proofreading!

Published November 22, 2009.
- 8
- 9
- 10
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Intimate Rivals