DISCLAIMER: Namco owns Tekken, not me, don't sue. (Short and sweet!)

Teaser: Jin and Hwoarang are forced to share a bed during the third Tekken Tournament. Fluff and cuteness ensues. Citrus, Shounen-ai/slash (male x male), and swearing (naughty naughty Hwoarang!).

 

Close To You

By Fever

 

 

''Goddammit, Jin, move the fuck over! How'm I supposed to sleep like this? ''

''Hwoarang, I will move over when you stop hogging the covers. ''

''I'm not hogging the fucking covers! Now move the fuck over before your HUGE fucking ASS pushes me off the fucking goddamn bed! ''

Jin turned to look at him, the darkness in the room barely hiding his annoyed expression.

''Do you have to swear so much, Hwoarang? '' he said reprimandingly, tugging at the thin sheets that the redhead had somehow cocooned himself in, hoping to reclaim at least some of the fabric. No wonder Hwoarang didn't keep his girlfriends for long- they probably all froze to death on the first night.

''Shut the fuck up. '' Hwoarang twisted over again, pulling what little valuable blanket space Jin had salvaged right out of his hands. The Japanese boy groaned.

''If you hate me so much, why are you sharing a bed with me? ''

''I told you, it was either that or listen to Paul Faggot-Ass Phoenix and… whoever the fuck it was screw each others' brains' out across the room. '' At the ensuing silence, his voice took on a note of incredulousness. ''Hey, I need my sleep too, ya know! ''

Jin blinked, having resumed his previous position of facing away from Hwoarang on the other side of their (notably small) bed. To tell the truth, he wasn’t exactly comfortable with this arrangement… preferring, for one thing, to face away from the Korean. (Draw your own conclusions.)

''So why me? ''

''…your room was nearest. And you don't have to share with anyone! ''

His voice was tinged with annoyance. ''I do now…''

''Ha, tough shit. Besides, ya could've just told me to fuck off! ''

''You didn't give me the chance! '' Annoyance turned to sheer exasperation now, and it was almost possible to envision the expression on Jin's usually-sweet-and-innocent face from the tone of his voice. Hwoarang was silent for a moment before he spoke again.

''Well, okay, maybe I didn't. '' That, at least, was true: with the customary boldness, he had stormed into the Japanese boy's room and demanded- no, stated- that this was where he was going to sleep tonight. Jin had either been too intimidated or too tired to refuse. Which Hwoarang hadn’t been too bothered about at the time, but thinking about it now… and seeing how annoyed Jin was…

Quickly shaking any thoughts of remorse or sympathy aside, he grumbled, more to himself than anyone else;

''Yeah, well, serves you right for being Heihachi's little fucking princess. ''

A pause.

''Excuse me?! ''

Hwoarang's voice sliced through the darkness, and Jin felt him sit up slightly, though he did not look round. ''You heard me. Getting a room to yourself… and the least shitty one at that… Jesus, ya think being a fucking millionaire your stingy ol' grandpa could at least give us some decent accommodation over the tournament-''

''Princess? '' Sitting bolt upright, Jin cut him short, the anger evident in his tone. He stared angrily down at the redhead. ''What, you think I want him to treat me like this? ''

Hwoarang was silent.

Still the dark-haired boy carried on. ''If I wanted to be… pampered''- this word was practically spat out, his voice edged with detest-''I’d have stayed at home. I asked to be able to stay with the other fighters, alright? I’d have been happy to share with someone… Even you. ''

''..hmph. '' The redhead lay down on his side again, curling up a little as if defensively, and stayed silent. The covers were still pushed half-way down his body, having been momentarily forgotten, and Hwoarang's smooth back was left exposed, pale and smooth in the darkness. Anger fading surprisingly quickly, Jin stared at him for a moment before he realised what he was doing, and lay down hurriedly, shifting as far as possible away from the other boy.

Baka. He’s just insulted you and you're thinking about how good it would feel to reach out and feel the warmth of his gorgeous skin beneath your fingers…

Jin cringed visibly. Maybe this wasn't the wisest train of thought to be following at the moment. For one thing, it made him feel kind of weird, to be thinking these sorts of things about another boy- much less a boy who should by all rights have been his rival.

But… did he really hate Hwoarang? Sure, the guy annoyed him, but he didn't seem half as bad as other people sometimes. Heihachi especially. The things he said about his mother sometimes… Jin frowned a little at the memory, instinctively hugging his arms around himself. He still missed her, even after all this time.

A sudden touch against his back made him blink, and look round. Hwoarang- having fallen asleep, by the looks of things- was now lying face-up beside him, one arm sprawled lazily outwards and brushing against Jin's flesh. His skin was warm, and the Korean's proximity to him was oddly comforting. Pleasant, sort of.

Jin shifted so he was facing the other, propping himself up on one elbow, and stayed like that for a minute or so, watching Hwoarang idly. In sleep, his face was oddly relaxed, and there was a touch of innocence there that Jin had never seen before. The boy's hair was splayed across the pillow like faded red ink in the darkness, spreading away from his delicate features, and his lips were parted a little, sending shivers down the Japanese boy's spine.

He couldn’t help but wonder if those lips were as soft as they looked.

This time, only the probability of Hwoarang waking up and kicking the hell out of Jin stopped him from testing this theory. That, and the fact that kissing someone while they were asleep was statutory rape, and Jin was probably the last person on earth to do something like that. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little curious, and it was a good few minutes more before the dark-haired boy finally tore his gaze away from the other, lying down reluctantly beside him- but not moving away.

''Jin? ''

The sound of Hwoarang's drowsy voice surprised him, and fear rose up in his throat. Had he been awake all that time? Even worse, did he know Jin had been staring at him? Part of him hoped that the boy was talking in his sleep, but the clarity of his voice quickly dispelled that thought.

''Jin…''

Jin didn’t answer him, only frowned a little, bracing himself for whatever Hwoarang was going to say. This couldn't be good.

''… I'm sorry for saying that about your ass, okay? '' mumbled the redhead.

The taller boy couldn't help but smile despite himself, relieved. ''…that’s okay. ''

''It's not huge. I didn't mean that. ''

There was silence for a moment. Wisely, Jin decided he'd take that as a compliment. Hey, it was better than a lot of the things he'd thought he was going to say. Besides… even the fact that he’d apologised struck Jin as flattering, because from what he knew about the teenager, Hwoarang didn’t apologise often.

''…thanks. ''

''Hn. '' The sheets crumpled a little in what sounded like a shrug. Suddenly, Jin felt Hwoarang turn over onto his side, and a pair of slim, muscular arms slipped round his waist, making the boy tense up in surprise.

''Hwoarang… what are you doing? ''

''These sheets are thin and it's fucking cold. '' Then; ''… I mean… you don’t mind, do you? ''

''Of course not. '' Instinctively, Jin relaxed again, feeling an odd surge of affection rise within him. So this was what people meant by 'feeling warm and fuzzy inside'… he inhaled sharply as he felt Hwoarang’s head rest on his shoulder, those silky strands brushing at his skin.

''…good…''

The way Hwoarang shifted against him again came as no surprise to Jin now; silently, his arms moved up to encircle the other, and his embrace was met with a warm, contented smile pressed against Jin's neck. Nothing more was said between them that night- nothing more needed to be said- and when Jin did give in to the temptation of the redhead's sweet lips, the other did not protest.

He was right- they were as soft as they looked.

 

-The end-