Verboten Libido

 

 

 

          “You’re drunk!” Xiaoyu screeches in alarm, pushing Hwoarang away, “What are you doing in my hotel room, you idiot?!”

          Hwoarang swaggers to the other wall and smirks, his eyes half open and a cigarette hanging dangerously from his lips. He rudely checks Xiaoyu out. “I’m not drunk,” he slurs.

          “Get out of my room! I don’t like you! Do I have to call my best friend? Grrr… MIHARU!!!!!!!”

          Another young Chinese girl rushes into the room to see what all the fuss is about. It’s Miharu. She raises an eyebrow at Hwoarang, “Xiao, who’s this guy? You never told me about him. He’s kind of cute…”

          Xiaoyu closes her eyes tightly in frustration, “NO! Get him out! He’s bad enough when he’s sober, but now he’s drunk! GO AWAY!”

          Miharu shrugs and walks up to Hwoarang. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and puts it out in a plastic plant, and lets out a rude burp, “Hey hun. How’s about you and…”

          He’s cut off by Miharu’s fist in his face. He holds his face and stumbles out of the room with the help of a shove from Xiaoyu. Hwoarang makes his way down the hallway, having trouble remembering which was his room. He looks down as he turns a corner, fascinated by the oddly placed designs in the carpet, and bumps into someone of a strong build.

          “Fucking asshole watch where you’re walking, bitch,” Hwoarang slurs.

          The person doesn’t speak back, instead Hwoarang is forcefully shoved out of the way, and the person walks by. Hwoarang swears under his breath and lunges at the person. He tackles them to the ground, and squints in order to see through his blurred vision.

          “Hwoarang, get off me. I have to be somewhere… 5 minutes ago…”

          The young Korean laughs, “Kazama! Holy shit man, I thought you were… someone else… Hey… I could break the tie right now and bash in your skull.”

          Jin pauses, “… But then I’d be really late for this appointment…”

          Hwoarang nods, “Yep.”

          Jin stays silent as he watches Hwoarang forget to stop nodding his head. Hwoarang mumbles something in Korean and falls sideways into a peaceful slumber. Jin sighs as he gets back to his feet. He looks at Hwoarang and then at his watch, “I’m too late to mess with you, redhead. Bye.”

         

         

          Warm water being poured over Hwoarang’s face wakes him unpleasantly. He sits up quickly, but ends up falling back down on account of a horrible headache, “Turn the fucking lights off!”

          On cue, the lights flicker off. Hwoarang sighs with relief and feels around, trying to figure out where he is. He touches someone’s leg and jerks his hand back, “Holy shit! Not so close, man!”

          The sound of someone shuffling around the room catches Hwoarang’s attention. He leans back so he can get into the pockets of his tight pants. Where’s that lighter? He’s positive he had it with him last night. Did he drop it or something?

          Someone grabs the front of Hwoarang’s shirt, pulls him up, and plants a pair of lips on his. Hwoarang pushes the person away and kicks them in the stomach, “What the fuck was that crazy shit? Now you better be some butch chick or someone’s about fucking die! Turn on the fucking light.”

          The light turns on and Hwoarang’s face-to-face with Lei Wulong, smirking away at the Korean.

          “Oh shit. You’re just trying to make me beat your ass down so you can arrest me! But fuck you man! It was self-defense! I can have you taken away for… Harassment!”

          Lei shakes his head, “That’s not why I did it. And that sexual harassment thing… Hwoarang, honestly, who do you think they’ll believe?”

          Hwoarang looks around desperately, “What the fuck is going on here?”

          Lie takes a step toward Hwoarang, licking his lips. Hwoarang scrambles backwards until he hits a wall. He searches his hung over mind for an escape plan of some sort, “Lei, man, come on! I don’t want to get put away before the tournament, but I will if I have to man! And if I’m going away, I’m going away for fucking murder, you fucking asshole!”

          Lei takes another step and stumbles.

          Hwoarang sighs with relief, “You’re drunk! Yes! Man, I’m getting out of here before you sober up!”

          The Blood Talon gets to his feet and runs out of the room, dodging Lei’s outstretched arms. Once safely in the hallway, he leans against the wall taking deep breaths in attempts to calm him down. He glances around at the room numbers. He’s on the wrong floor. The lights are a little too bright but they’re paradise in comparison to in Lei’s dark room.

          Hwoarang gets on the elevator, and tries to remember everything that happened last night… He didn’t willingly go to Lei’s room, did he? No way! That’s not even an option!

          The elevator stops halfway up to Hwoarang’s floor and a hooded man walks in. Hwoarang immediately knows that it’s Jin Kazama, but is too hung over and freaked out to care.

          Jin presses his desired button and then steps back.  Hwoarang shakes his head, “Kazama, what the hell is with your disguise? I mean, a hooded Jacket? I guess it’s a step up from Superman’s glasses disguise, but really man!”

          All Hwoarang gets in reply is silence. This happens a lot so he’s not exactly bothered by it. He leans against the corner and holds his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes closed, waiting for the throbbing pain to go away.  When he looks back up, the elevator doors are closing and Jin is gone.

 

 

          Cameras are everywhere. Jin makes sure his face is completely hidden by his hood as he walks quickly down the long hallway. That Hwoarang had a point. This isn’t a very good disguise. Perhaps he should have dyed his hair or completely shaved it off or something.

          Footsteps come up behind him. Jin picks up the pace without looking back to see who it is. All of a sudden, Jin’s knocked to the ground and pinned there by a redheaded Korean. The Japanese boy smiles relieved that it’s not someone he should fear. He looks up in horror to see the camera moving around on its spot on the wall, coming closer and closer to seeing his face.

          Jin panics and thinks up the only way to get Hwoarang off of him without resorting to unnecessary violence. He kisses the Korean right on the lips. Hwoarang jumps up wipes at his mouth in disgust. Jin gets to his feet and readjusts the hood.

          “What the fuck is going on with this fucking place? What is it, Gay day? That’s fucking gross man!”

          Jin rolls his eyes, “Why’d you attack me?”

          “Because you were rushing off to fast and you ignore me most of the time so I doubt you’d have stopped if I asked you to. All I wanted to know was if you have a light man! You screwed up mother fucker!”

          “I don’t smoke,” Jin grins. Hwoarang’s reaction was more amusing then Jin thought it would be.

          Hwoarang shakes his head bewildered, “Whatever happened to using brutal force to get someone off you?”

          “I thought that was brutal force.”

          “Shut the fuck up,” Hwoarang snaps. He wipes his mouth one last time on his gloved hand, and makes his way back to the elevator. Maybe there’s a lighter in his room.

          Jin shrugs and continues on his way.  

 

          Paul and Hwoarang sit in the lobby playing cards. Lei Wulong walks past and winks at the Blood Talon. Hwoarang cringes, hoping Paul didn’t see that. Of course, he did.

          Paul raises an eyebrow, “What was that about?”

          “Lei is a creepy old man, that’s what that was about, you American bastard!”

          “Ok.” Paul shrugs.

          Miharu runs up to the two guys with a big grin on her face, “Hello Hwoarang. How are you feeling?”

          Hwoarang looks at Miharu, blankly, “Who let you in?”

          “So rude when just last night, you were ready to jump in bed with me in a second!”

          He grins, “I was hitting on you, huh? Wow, and I though my hitting on my best friends dog was bad!”

          Miharu frowns, “I came here to help you get Xiaoyu, not to be hit with lame insults.”

          “So help me.”

          “Well,” Miharu perks up, “What she really likes is a man who is comfortable with his sexuality. Like a man who would kiss another man without freaking out because he knows it doesn’t mean anything so he doesn’t care!”

          Hwoarang’s eyes widen, “Holy shit! The world’s gone gay!”

          Paul raises an eyebrow, “Eh?”

          An idea sparks in Hwoarang’s mind, and a grin creeps upon his lips. He turns to Miharu and nods, “So you want me to kiss another man in order to prove that I’m comfortable with my sexuality so that I can win over Ling Xiaoyu? Sounds to me like a setup, but I’m game. Get me a camera, kid.

          Miharu runs off, giggling. Paul looks at Hwoarang, startled, “Are you nuts?”

          “I’m getting some asshole back for freaking me out earlier. I’m going to make like Lei and put him in a position where any straight man would freak out.”

         

 

          Jin puts his Strauss C.D. into the C.D. player, and turns it down a couple notches. The bath is only halfway full of water, so he lets it continue running. He keeps hearing someone knocking on doors in the hallway, so he peaks out through the eyehole. Sure enough, Hwoarang is walking around door-to-door knocking. He slowly makes his way to Jin’s door.

          Finally, Hwoarang knocks on Jin’s door. A stuffy silence floats in the air while Jin debates with himself over whether he should open it or not. After a long pause, Hwoarang knocks again. Jin opens it, and notes Hwoarang’s hand behind his back. “May I help you?”

          Without a word, Hwoarang steps inside, shuts and locks the door behind him. He glances around the room, thinking about something. Jin knows Hwoarang’s up to no good. When is Hwoarang ever not up to no good? Why did Jin let him in?

          Soft classical music surrounds the two boys. Hwoarang seems to decide on something that Jin cannot even begin to guess. They look at each other. Hwoarang studies his prey in amusement while Jin tries to read the leaner man’s body language in order to figure out what’s on his mind.

          Suddenly Hwoarang springs into action, shoving Jin onto the couch, getting on top, and treating him with a forceful kiss. A flash startles the young Japanese boy, but he’s immediately clued in when Hwoarang pulls back, still sitting on the Japanese boy, and laughs, brandishing a Polaroid camera.

          Jin shakes his head, deciding that if Hwoarang wants to play this game, he’ll play even better. He grabs Hwoarang by the shoulders and in one swift movement, Jin is on top, pinning Hwoarang to the cushions of the fake leather couch. Hwoarang looks around, perplexed, when Jin replies to the joke with a kiss of his own, only he adds a little more. He introduces the tongue.

          Hwoarang fights back the urge to freak out. He decides that freaking out is exactly what Jin wants him to do, so he does the opposite. He kisses back. Strauss accompanies the scene with class. The sound of running bathwater doesn’t register to Jin in the least.

          They both try to fake they’re own bit of passion in order to psyche the other out. The feel of each other’s body, the dim hotel lighting caused by a burnt out bulb, the soft music, and the quiet distant noise of running water, swallow the boys whole until they forget that they’re faking it.    

          It’s warm. Sweat is already beginning to show. They roll off the couch and Hwoarang is back on top, but he’s still enchanted. His lips make their way down Jin’s chin, and to his neck. He lingers there for a moment, enjoying the flavor of Jin’s smooth skin. Hwoarang arches his back slightly as he makes his way down to Jin’s heaving bare chest. He nips, playfully at Jin’s sensitive chest. A chill rides down Jin’s spine.

          Hwoarang spots the mark on Jin’s arm. Suddenly, he snaps out of the daze and sits up, attempting to gather himself together. He wipes sweat off his forehead and shakes his head, “Shit.”

          Jin realizes what was happening and lays there in confusion, wondering where he stopped doing it as a game. He watches as the Greatly troubled Hwoarang gets to his feet and walks out the door, slamming it behind him.

          Uh oh! The bath water! Jin hops to his feet and runs into the bathroom, slipping in the huge puddle on the floor. He looks around and sighs, “Oops.”

 

 

          Hwoarang mutters loudly to himself as he walks back into the lobby. He had put the picture he took safely in his hotel room. He sits back at the table across from Paul and crosses his arms, “Give me a smoke.”

          “No smoking allowed, man.”

          “Oh, really? I’m sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone who gives a fuck, now give me a fucking cigarette before I tear out your fucking throat and feed it to Miharu.”

          A high-pitched voice comes from behind Hwoarang, “I heard that, mister! So, do you have the picture? Xiaoyu’s waiting!”

          Hwoarang snarls, “She can wait until she fucking rots for all I care! I don’t want that bitch. There’s no picture, I didn’t kiss a fucking guy because I don’t have to prove that I’m comfortable with my sexuality to the likes of her when there’s plenty of bitches out there that I could get with without having to present a picture first! Now get out of my fucking face!”

          Miharu’s mouth drops open, “What happened to you, Mr. Crabby pants?”

          “Go away!”

          “Grrr! I’m telling!” Miharu runs off.

          Paul looks in the direction that Miharu left, and then he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and slides them across the table to Hwoarang.

          Hwoarang grabs the pack and stands up, placing the camera on the table in front of Paul, “Make sure the bitch gets this back, will ya?”

          “Sure.”

          With that, the young Korean walks out the front doors.

         

 

          A song of Aaron Kwok’s takes over the radio. Jin grunts and presses the power button. There’s no way he’d be able to meditate with that playing. He sits back down on the floor in front of his bed and closes his eyes. Visions of Hwoarang flood his head. DAMNIT why can’t he concentrate without thinking about that annoying redhead? He was next to positive that meditation would cure him of these dishonorable thoughts.

          Knock, knock, knock. Someone’s here? Who knows that he’s in this room? Perhaps it’s room service.

          Jin gets to his feet and peaks out the eyehole. Whoever it is, is blocking the eyehole with his/her hand. Jin shrugs. Whoever is immature enough to do something like that couldn’t be too much of a risk.

          He opens the door to see Hwoarang leaning casually against the door frame. The two young men watch each other, neither of them knowing what to say or do.

          Hwoarang’s hair is dripping all over the hall carpet. His wet lean body shivers. He was obviously out in the rain. Jin grins as Hwoarang sniffles pitifully, while trying to retain his pride.

          Jin welcomes the annoying redhead into his room, and offers him some warm green tea. He sits on the couch, wondering whether it would be too weird if he offered Hwoarang a blanket too.

          They look at each other in thought. Unfamiliar feelings of desire are presented to them each. Would it be so wrong if… Shall they explore the forbidden desire they feel? Jin wonders if these feelings would ever go away if he refuses to accept them. Would just one night be so dishonorable?

          Hwoarang stares at the cup of tea in his hands as he places it on the ground beside him. He gets to his feet and Jin does the same. The annoying redhead smirks, “Taboo.”

          Jin understands right away. It will be their little secret. One night couldn’t hurt.

          They savagely embrace each other with a hunger that neither of them has ever felt before. A hunger, a desire more intense then ever before. As Jin falls into the forbidden world of secret desires, he thinks to himself, ‘Just one night… or two.’

 

 

Fin