A/N: I know I know. It’s a little short, but it’s just the first chapter. So once I figure out where I want this to go, I’ll continue, and perhaps the next part will be longer.

 

**Disclaimer** I don’t owe any of the three characters mentioned in this fiction… I don’t owe Tekken although I wish I did. I don’t own anything? Are you satisfied?

 

 

Christmas BS

 

 

 

 

            "Christmas Cheer. HAPPY CHRISTMAS! Christmas love. Christmas Holidays? Christmas BULLSHIT is more like it!" Hwoarang ranted in a drunken slur. A bad bruise flashed on his cheek as he staggered under the streetlamp. "Merry Christmas and a happy new Bullshit year! Ho ho fucking ho! Who the hell is that fat pimp bastard anyway? Santa Claus? What kind of name is that? It's a pimp name! That's why he says HO HO HO! Get it? HAHAHAHA!"

            The girl walking a good distance behind the Drunken Korean nodded, afraid to not respond. What had she gotten herself into? Her friends said that he was the Ultimate date if you want a good time. They must not have dated him during Christmas Eve, the woman thought to herself. Does this guy even know where he's going? She was sure he parked his bike in the opposite direction. She could have gone out with that nice American instead. Just wait until he turns his back... She grinned to herself, I'll escape!

            It wasn't long until the woman got her chance. Hwoarang tripped over a curb and stayed on the ground face first for a while, trying to clear his head to remember how to get back up. Once he figured it out. He was on his feet and squinting around, trying to look for that woman. He was certain he had come out here with someone. He shrugged and began walking again, swaying back and forth across the sidewalk, fighting the urge to just lay down and fall asleep on a stoop somewhere.

            The sound of someone running up behind him startled Hwoarang slightly, but he just continued in his swaying way without looking back, finding it may take too much energy. The person behind him shoved him aside and continued running down the street. Hwoarang shook his head, trying to clear it a little more and stared after the man. Well he was obviously being chased. The young Korean wisely decided to duck into the shadows and wait to see who was chasing the chump that pushed him. In a matter of seconds, a second person came up running. Hwoarang was sober enough to realise that he was too hammered to be able to see the man's face, so he lunged out of the shadows and tackled the person to the ground.

            “Damn it!” The man underneath him muttered, squirming. It was a familiar voice, “What the hell are you doing, kid? Hwoarang? Is that you? Damn get off me! I was hot on his trail!”

            Hwoarang squinted, “Whose trail? … Lei Wulong.”

            “The perps!”

            “Who is the perp?”

            Lei Wulong sighed in annoyance, “Didn’t you see you drunken bastard?”

            “No.”

            “It was that Devil boy… Kazama. What’s his name again? Jin!” Lei told Hwoarang, “Now get off me before he gets too far away!”

            Hwoarang thought about that. A cop was chasing Kazama? “What did he do?”

            “If you must know, he was caught breaking into a house. Now get your damn nosey ass off me before I cuff you instead!  I ought to anyway considering tackling a police officer is an offence. You know… Offence. Those things you do on a regular basis that gets you cuffed.”

            “I get cuffed more then you know. Sometimes by cops, sometimes by ladies, if you know what I mean.”

            Lei laughed, “Ladies? How can you tell with all that alcohol going through your system? You couldn’t even tell that the guy that just ran past had wings! You could have screwed Heihachi himself for all you know!”

            Hwoarang rolled over, his face distorted with pain, “EW EWWW EWWWWW! DUDE! Ew… EWW! That’s just… creepy, disturbing, and I can now officially say that you have scarred me for life!”

            “Well you seem a little more sobered up now,” Lei said, getting up. He regarded the redheaded Korean with a little more concern and started off running once again.

            Hwoarang rolled around holding his throbbing head. He made every attempt at getting the mental picture out of his head until he just gave up and started knocking his forehead against the ground cursing Lei’s name. That was a very mean thing to do to a drunk. Hwoarang eventually rolled and lit up a cigarette, trying to adjust his vision slightly by rubbing his eyes. It wasn’t the alcohol making it hard to see. It was the lack of sun. He smirked to himself, thinking about the turning of the tables. It was Jin being pursued by pigs and not him! It was about damn time!

            The redheaded Korean got to his feet slowly. He looked at the ground in confusion, as his face came to meet it. “Damn,” He groaned as he pushed himself up on his side. Great. He couldn’t even stand anymore. Where was that girl when he needed her? “Bah!” He shook his head and crawled into the shadows, deciding he might as well take a little nap to sober up a little. He crawled until he met a wall, or what he thought was a wall. He bumped into it, only to fall on his side in shock as it moved away from him. “Wow. I’m really drunk,” He concluded.

            The supposed wall stayed silent for a moment before attempting to run off. After only three steps it tripped over a garbage can, causing Hwoarang to burst into hysterical laughter. The wall leaped on Hwoarang, putting a clawed hand over the Koreans mouth, in a successful attempt to create a somewhat silent situation.

            Hwoarang’s brow knitted in anger, not like being pinned to the ground by walls. He Struggled and squirmed, and even tried one of his clever moves he used in matches where he escaped moves like that but he was far too drunk to pull it off. He only ended up in a much less comfortable position from which it was next to impossible to move even a finger, let alone escape. He eventually gave up the fight, and relaxed, closing his eyes. Whatever the wall wanted, he didn’t care as long as it let him sleep…

 

 

#$#$#

 

 

            Dishes littered the sink. That work was never going to get done before Jin left to the Christmas potluck. He tried to remind himself why he was going. He didn’t even like those people. Oh yeah… Business. Damn business always ruined Celebrations. Christmas day was finally there and he didn’t have anyone to spend it with besides a bunch of fat cats and their sweethearts. Jin scowled at the dish he was planning on bringing.  I’ll be the only one there without a date, he thought. Christmas was the one day each year where he was reminded that he didn’t have a partner in life. It hadn’t been such a big deal to him before his mother died, but he hadn’t felt so alone when she was alive. He glanced back through the open door into the other room where Hwoarang was asleep on the futon. He’d probably want coffee when he woke up, assuming he’d be too hung over to attempt to kill Jin on sight. Why did I take him home last night? Jin asked himself, Oh yeah. Because otherwise he’d probably die. So why do I care? One less annoyance in my life. Jin argued in thought, but I am still human, after all.

            He heard the Korean man stir, and quickly flipped the switch for the coffee machine. He tried to remember where he had the headache pills last. He used them a lot when he was… winged, and had a habit of putting them down in random places. He didn’t seem to be such a neat freak when he was winged, despite the fact that he had learned how to kind of control it.

            “Kazama…”

            Jin looked back into the other room to see Hwoarang sitting up and holding his head, “Good afternoon, Hwoarang.”

            “Shut the hell up. How did I get here? … Wherever here is?”

            “You passed out in a middle of a back street where you could have easily been hit by a car or trampled by tourists,” Jin explained, pouring the water for the dishes. “Hungry?”

            Hwoarang raised an eyebrow as he averted his eyes from the painfully lighted kitchen, “Why are you so cheerful?”

            “Why not? I’m not the one with a hangover,” Jin grinned, looking back at Hwoarang, “And we can’t forget the fact that it’s Christmas day.”

            “Who cares?”

            Jin frowned at the Korean, more upset at himself for agreeing with the Blood Talon’s lack of excitement. He tested the water to make sure it was the right temperature before beginning to rinse and stack the dishes. Why did he always have to binge when he was winged? It was like having a slob for a roommate.

            Hwoarang laid back down and stared at the dark ceiling. Jin glanced back at the Korean once again, not entirely sure what he should say or do about his hung-over rival. At least the other man hadn’t attacked him yet. He looked up at the clock above the fridge and stepped back, “Damn I’m late for work!”

            “You always get to wait until the afternoon before going to work?” Hwoarang asked drowsily.

            “No,” Jin replied, turning off the water and grabbing his coat, “I took the morning off to get ready for tonight… Coffees being made if you want it, there are some pills somewhere around this place, although there is some tea for headaches if you would prefer that. Anything else you could possibly want isn’t hard to find. This place is pretty small… Oh! And don’t even try to rob me. I never leave things of worth laying around.”

            Hwoarang doesn’t respond, but Jin knows he heard. The young Japanese man shrugs and heads out the door muttering a “see you.”

 

TBC….