Disclaimer: -sigh- Now comes the depressing part. Jin's not
mine,
the sexy Korean's not mine, no matter how much I squeeze my eyes shut
and wish it were true. Namco owns them, the lucky bastards.
A/N: I started writing this at 6 in the morning. It's now
6:10.
Don't expect any amount of wonderfulness this early in the morning
and in this short span of time. Chloerz asked for Halloween-related
stuff, and I'm not sure if this counts, but I thought it was fun. I
may or may not considering writing Jin's revenge, but that truly
depends on if anyone wants me to.
=*=Rude Awakening=*=
"Hey Jin."
"Hn."
"Jin!"
"Hn."
Hwoarang sighed and rolled his eyes. Jin was laying down after a
particularly rough training session with his new sensei, but Xiaoyu
was on the phone, screeching to talk to the black-haired man about a
Halloween party she was throwing next week. Prodding the shirtless
man with the end of the cordless phone, Hwoarang tried again. "Get
up, man, it's your _girlfriend_, and she sounds pretty excited. Damn
near busted my ear drum in the process, too."
When Jin made no move toward the proffered telephone, Hwoarang jabbed
it into his bare shoulder a bit harder. This earned him an outraged
grunt, but Jin just snuffled into his pillow, hugging it tighter and
ignoring the martial artist.
Sighing again, the red-head placed the phone back to his ear. "I
can't wake him, Ling."
"Try harder!" Xiaoyu's voice screaked across the staticky wires.
Letting off with a string of obscenities in his native language,
Hwoarang wrenched the cursed phone away from him, tossing it onto the
floor.
"Fuck, Kazama, talk to your parrot of a girlfriend already, before
she appears in real life and gives me a bigger fuckin' headache!"
Jin shifted on the bed, turning onto his side. "Not my
girlfriend,"
he mumbled sleepily.
The red-haired Korean looked at Kazama murderously for a second, then
inspiration struck. Knowing Jin's reactions to his body, Hwoarang
pressed his mouth to the other's exposed ear, catching it between his
teeth. "Oh Jin..." he breathed seductively, silently delighting
in
the visible shiver that ran down the stockier man's spine.
"...yeah?"
Hwoarang chuckled lowly. "If you don't get up and talk to that
skanky _girlfriend_ of yours, you'll miss me modeling my Halloween
costume."
"Fwa-- yeah? What kinda costume, Hwoarang?" Jin asked, not
opening
an eye or even bothering to roll over to face the Tae Kwon Do master.
A slow cheshire grin spread across Hwoarang's features, unknown to
the heir to the Mishima fortune. He pressed his lips to Jin's ear
again and whispered oh-so-innocently, "I thought I'd go as nature
intended."
"Huh," Jin said intelligently, lazily sliding one eye open. All
he
could see, however, was a single lock of poker-straight red hair. He
shifted to get a better view of the thin man, but found he was pinned
to the bed. "What do you mean?"
Looking up to the heavens for an answer to his koibito's sudden block-
headedness, Hwoarang decided to give Jin the benefit of the doubt and
tried again. "I thought about wearing a suit for Halloween. Perhaps
my... birthday suit?"
Suddenly, Jin got it. Throwing aside the red-head's arms, he bolted
up in the bed and turned to his lover. He groaned and slumped back
when he felt pain lance through his shoulder, his eyes shut in agony.
Hwoarang slunk guiltily out of the room, closing the door quietly.
He had completely forgotten about Jin's injury, which he had
sustained at practice earlier. Laughing silently, the fully-clothed
Korean leaned against the door, relearning how to breathe and
listening to Jin howl inside the room. Oh, how he loved to tease the
black-haired man.
"I'm gonna get you for that, Hwoarang!" he heard Jin shout.
Walking
off down the hall, the red-head smirked. Oh, Jin _was_ going to get
him back, of that Hwoarang was certain. Funny how he always looked
forward to that, too.
----
Owari.