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blue_bellsI was hit by the urge to write something short and senseless the other day. This drabble ran away from me and is a stand-alone.
» Title: Time Slip
» Fandom: Tekken
» Warnings: Alternate universe (shameless excuse to have one happy family)
» Pairing(s): Jin/Hwoarang
» Summary: Hwoarang pays a visit to harass Jin in his usual way and encounters some unexpected obstacles. The parents.
“Hwoarang... am I pronouncing it right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Hwoarang, I have to ask....”
Jun Kazama walked around Hwoarang’s chair, white dress underplaying her motions, but there was nothing meek in the way she held herself, leaning by the side of the lush mahogany desk. Hwoarang tried to maintain eye contact as she spoke, it was only polite and she’d been nothing but kind since he’d stepped onto the Mishima estate, but his eye kept darting to the man who sat behind that desk, glaring at Hwoarang like the intruder he was.
He looked like a much older version of Jin -- if Jin had been on the underside of a bus and always scowled because he couldn’t help remembering.
“... What are your intentions?”
Hwoarang startled to attention. “What?”
Jun smiled, her hands folded in her lap. “What are your intentions with my son?”
Hwoarang glanced at the angry man maintaining a stony silence. “I, err –“ Want to wipe the floor with his face; it’s a hobby of mine. Please don’t hurt me. “—owe him for a lunch we had... while ago, and I was in the area, so I thought if Jin was free, yanno, I might....” He shrugged off the dying words and tried to keep the dread from his face as Jin’s parents exchanged a long look.
He had to give Jin’s mother credit. She wasn’t fazed by that gleaming, bionic red eye, nor the deep scars or set scowl of her husband’s mouth, and if there was any expression in their exchange, Hwoarang couldn’t catch it.
The angry man finally looked at Hwoarang again and Jun stood. “Hwoarang, why don’t you finish your iced tea and I’ll see if Jin has plans today.”
“Oh, he doesn’t.” The words were out before Hwoarang could apply the brain to mouth filter.
Jun paused with a look of surprise and her husband’s face twisted with suspicion. Of all the things that could have been said then, Jun nodded with an odd smile and told him, “Please, make yourself at home.”
The heavy door shut behind her with an imperceptible click. The ensuing silence was oppressive, but the man behind the desk was plainly comfortable staring him down. Hwoarang drummed his fingers on his knee and remembered that he may have been slouching in a chair that probably came from three different trees when Jin’s father broke the silence.
“What part of South Korea are you from, Hwoarang?”
Hwoarang’s mind whirred with tens of reasons why Jin’s father could be asking him that and decided he was too terrified to lie to the man. “Seoul, Sir.”
“And how long have you known Jin?”
“Uh... I think it’s almost four years now. Sir.”
The man nodded slowly. “Good, good. And if Jin is available to join you today where would you take him?”
Something about that sentence made Hwoarang curl in horror on the inside. “Somewhere nice?”
Oh, God, he did not just say that.
Jin’s father raised a heavy eyebrow, the gesture made him look twice as fierce. “Nice?”
Hwoarang gestured a bit too widely in his shrug. “Anywhere he wants to go, I don’t care – I’ll keep its safe and shiny – bright, uh –“ His mind scrambled when the man’s eyes narrowed at him. “I mean lit, we’ll stay in a publicly lit place that’s safe where... we can have lunch and I’ll bring him back... safe.” Hwoarang suddenly found himself short of breath and he may have started to sweat. “Does Jin have a curfew? Because I’ll totally –“
Hwoarang’s anxious babbling was cut mercifully short. “You train in Tae Kwon Do, Hwoarang?”
Hwoarang released a long, stifled breath. “Yes, Sir.”
Jin’s father leaned back in his chair and looked out the window thoughtfully. “We had a Tae Kwon Do master pass through the Iron Fist tournament years ago,” he paused, “have you heard of a Baek Doo San?”
“Yes, Sir.” Hearing Baek’s name was a balm to Hwoarang’s nerves – mostly. Hwoarang wiped his sweaty palms on the knees o f his pant and straightened in his seat. “Baek Doo San is my teacher.”
Jin’s father sat up in his recliner desk chair and Hwoarang shrank under the re-appraising look. The man smiled at Hwoarang: a truly terrifying sight.
“So, you are his student. I met Baek Doo San in the earliest Iron Fist tournament. He was easily defeated,” the man recalled with nostalgia.
Hwoarang rolled his eyes, remembering which family he was talking to. The school of Baek Doo San did not seem to fare well against the Mishimas, or Kazamas.
The door to the study flew open and Jin burst in with his mother at his side.
“Hwoarang!” Jin sounded genuinely surprised, but first nodded to acknowledge the unhappy man behind the desk. “Father.”
“Jin. Your friend and I have been talking.”
Some of the happy surprise evaporated from Jin’s expression and he looked at Hwoarang who was desperately trying to convey his silent plea to be extracted from that study.
Jun eased her way between the men and smiled indulgently at her son. “Your father and I agreed that we could spare you from our lunch today.”
Hwoarang frowned, having missed that part of the exchange. Before he knew what was happening, Jun was ushering them to the door with something like cautious excitement and then Jin was pulling up the hood of his jacket to shield his eyes from the afternoon sun.
Hwoarang stared at the oak door after it had closed behind them. “That was so weird.” He winced. “And uncomfortable.”
Jin brushed his hair back under his hood. “You got here sooner than I expected. Did you just lie to my mother or are you sincere about lunch?”
Hwoarang blinked like he was clearing his vision and he took a proper look at Jin for the first time that afternoon. Jin looked like he had been about to start training, dressed in his black and white gear only his hands had not yet been wrapped. On the streets he would look like any other kid. “You grown taller since I last saw you?”
Jin shrugged.
Hwoarang released a long-suffering sigh. “Well, I’m not letting you come back without a story to tell about lunch because I thought your family could not get any weirder, but your Dad – “ Hwoarang coughed on his laughter, “—Not someone I want following me up. You couldn’t lie to save yourself, could you?”
“You mean to save you,” Jin smiled at him side-long as they began the trek down the path of the sprawling Mishima estate. “What did you and my father talk about?”
Hwoarang frowned. “Trying not to remember. I didn’t actually catch your Dad’s name.”
“Mishima Kazuya, I thought you already knew.”
“Thought so, but I had to ask.”
“Where are we going for lunch?”
“This’s been a weird day.” Hwoarang laughed under his breath. “Name your heart’s desire, Kazama, and just for today I won’t complain. Take advantage.”
Jin looked at him sharply. “My father really scared you.”
Hwoarang glared. “I have the transport, but I can still leave you behind.”
Jin raised a hand in defence as they finally broke into the shade before the entrance gates. Beyond, Hwoarang’s large motorbike was parked waiting beside the guard’s post. “Don’t be dramatic.” Jin nodded at the guards on duty, armed to the teeth and dressed with more protective gear than could possibly be comfortable in the current weather. “I think I know a place where we can go for lunch.”
Hwoarang slid onto the familiar seat of his bike and handed Jin the helmet. “Does it have cows?”
“I thought I was choosing.”
“I won’t stop you from choosing a place that serves meat and compost-whatever you eat.”
Jin actually snickered as he slid onto the seat behind Hwoarang and examined the helmet. “I eat meat, Hwoarang.”
“Thank God. Give me directions.”
“...”
Hwoarang frowned and glanced over his shoulder when Jin didn’t respond. Jin was still examining the helmet unhappily.
“What is it?”
Jin met his eye and didn’t speak, but a hand lifted to his hair and curled a hanging lock behind his ear.
Hwoarang looked from Jin’s scowling face to the helmet. “I also won’t stop you from cracking your head open if you fall off without the helmet.”
Jin made a begrudging noise and slid the helmet on. Hwoarang banged a fist down on its top and Jin almost fell of the bike. “Ow!”
“Just making sure,” Hwoarang tried to keep the smile from his face as he smacked the helmet’s top again. This time Jin shoved him and Hwoarang motioned to the chin clasp, moving to fasten it with a sigh when Jin spread his hands in confusion.
Hwoarang thought he saw Jin’s eyes crease in a smile, but he ignored it. “Drive straight down this road and take the third right. I’ll tell you where to go from there.”
Hwoarang nodded. “Hand signals only, ‘kay? ‘Cause I can’t hear a thing you’ll be saying.”
“All right.”
“Good.”
Hwoarang slammed down the visor of Jin’s helmet, twisting round to roar the bike to life before Jin could hiss or whine. He raised an eyebrow when Jin’s arms didn’t wrap around his waist like a normal passenger. “Hang on to something.” Then, hoping that Jin was at least grasping the rear bike rack and considering that he should have given a few pointers about being a passenger for both their safety, the bike steered away from the curve.
Jin’s arms clamped around his torso a second later, Hwoarang wanted to laugh and kick Jin at the same time. He settled for shifting Jin’s arms to their place around his waist and prepared for the first turn...
And abruptly woke up.
It took a moment to understand what woke him and then he pulled the pillow away from his face, squinting in the dim bedroom light.
Someone was lightly rapping on the wooden door of what looked like a modest, but well-furnished hotel room. Every surface was polished dark wood, heavy drapes obscured all but cracks of sunlight in floor-to-ceiling windows and the mattress he lay on was... sinfully comfortable.
Hwoarang collapsed back down.
“Jin? Jin-kun, are you in there?”
Hwoarang’s eyes shot open at the unmistakable voice of Jun Kazama and suddenly Jin was there with a sheepish smile, pulling on the last of his clothes as he rounded the bed and gestured at Hwoarang to stay quiet. Hwoarang stared at him blankly.
What the hell had just happened?
[LINK] Next Part
» Title: Time Slip
» Fandom: Tekken
» Warnings: Alternate universe (shameless excuse to have one happy family)
» Pairing(s): Jin/Hwoarang
» Summary: Hwoarang pays a visit to harass Jin in his usual way and encounters some unexpected obstacles. The parents.
“Hwoarang... am I pronouncing it right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Hwoarang, I have to ask....”
Jun Kazama walked around Hwoarang’s chair, white dress underplaying her motions, but there was nothing meek in the way she held herself, leaning by the side of the lush mahogany desk. Hwoarang tried to maintain eye contact as she spoke, it was only polite and she’d been nothing but kind since he’d stepped onto the Mishima estate, but his eye kept darting to the man who sat behind that desk, glaring at Hwoarang like the intruder he was.
He looked like a much older version of Jin -- if Jin had been on the underside of a bus and always scowled because he couldn’t help remembering.
“... What are your intentions?”
Hwoarang startled to attention. “What?”
Jun smiled, her hands folded in her lap. “What are your intentions with my son?”
Hwoarang glanced at the angry man maintaining a stony silence. “I, err –“ Want to wipe the floor with his face; it’s a hobby of mine. Please don’t hurt me. “—owe him for a lunch we had... while ago, and I was in the area, so I thought if Jin was free, yanno, I might....” He shrugged off the dying words and tried to keep the dread from his face as Jin’s parents exchanged a long look.
He had to give Jin’s mother credit. She wasn’t fazed by that gleaming, bionic red eye, nor the deep scars or set scowl of her husband’s mouth, and if there was any expression in their exchange, Hwoarang couldn’t catch it.
The angry man finally looked at Hwoarang again and Jun stood. “Hwoarang, why don’t you finish your iced tea and I’ll see if Jin has plans today.”
“Oh, he doesn’t.” The words were out before Hwoarang could apply the brain to mouth filter.
Jun paused with a look of surprise and her husband’s face twisted with suspicion. Of all the things that could have been said then, Jun nodded with an odd smile and told him, “Please, make yourself at home.”
The heavy door shut behind her with an imperceptible click. The ensuing silence was oppressive, but the man behind the desk was plainly comfortable staring him down. Hwoarang drummed his fingers on his knee and remembered that he may have been slouching in a chair that probably came from three different trees when Jin’s father broke the silence.
“What part of South Korea are you from, Hwoarang?”
Hwoarang’s mind whirred with tens of reasons why Jin’s father could be asking him that and decided he was too terrified to lie to the man. “Seoul, Sir.”
“And how long have you known Jin?”
“Uh... I think it’s almost four years now. Sir.”
The man nodded slowly. “Good, good. And if Jin is available to join you today where would you take him?”
Something about that sentence made Hwoarang curl in horror on the inside. “Somewhere nice?”
Oh, God, he did not just say that.
Jin’s father raised a heavy eyebrow, the gesture made him look twice as fierce. “Nice?”
Hwoarang gestured a bit too widely in his shrug. “Anywhere he wants to go, I don’t care – I’ll keep its safe and shiny – bright, uh –“ His mind scrambled when the man’s eyes narrowed at him. “I mean lit, we’ll stay in a publicly lit place that’s safe where... we can have lunch and I’ll bring him back... safe.” Hwoarang suddenly found himself short of breath and he may have started to sweat. “Does Jin have a curfew? Because I’ll totally –“
Hwoarang’s anxious babbling was cut mercifully short. “You train in Tae Kwon Do, Hwoarang?”
Hwoarang released a long, stifled breath. “Yes, Sir.”
Jin’s father leaned back in his chair and looked out the window thoughtfully. “We had a Tae Kwon Do master pass through the Iron Fist tournament years ago,” he paused, “have you heard of a Baek Doo San?”
“Yes, Sir.” Hearing Baek’s name was a balm to Hwoarang’s nerves – mostly. Hwoarang wiped his sweaty palms on the knees o f his pant and straightened in his seat. “Baek Doo San is my teacher.”
Jin’s father sat up in his recliner desk chair and Hwoarang shrank under the re-appraising look. The man smiled at Hwoarang: a truly terrifying sight.
“So, you are his student. I met Baek Doo San in the earliest Iron Fist tournament. He was easily defeated,” the man recalled with nostalgia.
Hwoarang rolled his eyes, remembering which family he was talking to. The school of Baek Doo San did not seem to fare well against the Mishimas, or Kazamas.
The door to the study flew open and Jin burst in with his mother at his side.
“Hwoarang!” Jin sounded genuinely surprised, but first nodded to acknowledge the unhappy man behind the desk. “Father.”
“Jin. Your friend and I have been talking.”
Some of the happy surprise evaporated from Jin’s expression and he looked at Hwoarang who was desperately trying to convey his silent plea to be extracted from that study.
Jun eased her way between the men and smiled indulgently at her son. “Your father and I agreed that we could spare you from our lunch today.”
Hwoarang frowned, having missed that part of the exchange. Before he knew what was happening, Jun was ushering them to the door with something like cautious excitement and then Jin was pulling up the hood of his jacket to shield his eyes from the afternoon sun.
Hwoarang stared at the oak door after it had closed behind them. “That was so weird.” He winced. “And uncomfortable.”
Jin brushed his hair back under his hood. “You got here sooner than I expected. Did you just lie to my mother or are you sincere about lunch?”
Hwoarang blinked like he was clearing his vision and he took a proper look at Jin for the first time that afternoon. Jin looked like he had been about to start training, dressed in his black and white gear only his hands had not yet been wrapped. On the streets he would look like any other kid. “You grown taller since I last saw you?”
Jin shrugged.
Hwoarang released a long-suffering sigh. “Well, I’m not letting you come back without a story to tell about lunch because I thought your family could not get any weirder, but your Dad – “ Hwoarang coughed on his laughter, “—Not someone I want following me up. You couldn’t lie to save yourself, could you?”
“You mean to save you,” Jin smiled at him side-long as they began the trek down the path of the sprawling Mishima estate. “What did you and my father talk about?”
Hwoarang frowned. “Trying not to remember. I didn’t actually catch your Dad’s name.”
“Mishima Kazuya, I thought you already knew.”
“Thought so, but I had to ask.”
“Where are we going for lunch?”
“This’s been a weird day.” Hwoarang laughed under his breath. “Name your heart’s desire, Kazama, and just for today I won’t complain. Take advantage.”
Jin looked at him sharply. “My father really scared you.”
Hwoarang glared. “I have the transport, but I can still leave you behind.”
Jin raised a hand in defence as they finally broke into the shade before the entrance gates. Beyond, Hwoarang’s large motorbike was parked waiting beside the guard’s post. “Don’t be dramatic.” Jin nodded at the guards on duty, armed to the teeth and dressed with more protective gear than could possibly be comfortable in the current weather. “I think I know a place where we can go for lunch.”
Hwoarang slid onto the familiar seat of his bike and handed Jin the helmet. “Does it have cows?”
“I thought I was choosing.”
“I won’t stop you from choosing a place that serves meat and compost-whatever you eat.”
Jin actually snickered as he slid onto the seat behind Hwoarang and examined the helmet. “I eat meat, Hwoarang.”
“Thank God. Give me directions.”
“...”
Hwoarang frowned and glanced over his shoulder when Jin didn’t respond. Jin was still examining the helmet unhappily.
“What is it?”
Jin met his eye and didn’t speak, but a hand lifted to his hair and curled a hanging lock behind his ear.
Hwoarang looked from Jin’s scowling face to the helmet. “I also won’t stop you from cracking your head open if you fall off without the helmet.”
Jin made a begrudging noise and slid the helmet on. Hwoarang banged a fist down on its top and Jin almost fell of the bike. “Ow!”
“Just making sure,” Hwoarang tried to keep the smile from his face as he smacked the helmet’s top again. This time Jin shoved him and Hwoarang motioned to the chin clasp, moving to fasten it with a sigh when Jin spread his hands in confusion.
Hwoarang thought he saw Jin’s eyes crease in a smile, but he ignored it. “Drive straight down this road and take the third right. I’ll tell you where to go from there.”
Hwoarang nodded. “Hand signals only, ‘kay? ‘Cause I can’t hear a thing you’ll be saying.”
“All right.”
“Good.”
Hwoarang slammed down the visor of Jin’s helmet, twisting round to roar the bike to life before Jin could hiss or whine. He raised an eyebrow when Jin’s arms didn’t wrap around his waist like a normal passenger. “Hang on to something.” Then, hoping that Jin was at least grasping the rear bike rack and considering that he should have given a few pointers about being a passenger for both their safety, the bike steered away from the curve.
Jin’s arms clamped around his torso a second later, Hwoarang wanted to laugh and kick Jin at the same time. He settled for shifting Jin’s arms to their place around his waist and prepared for the first turn...
And abruptly woke up.
It took a moment to understand what woke him and then he pulled the pillow away from his face, squinting in the dim bedroom light.
Someone was lightly rapping on the wooden door of what looked like a modest, but well-furnished hotel room. Every surface was polished dark wood, heavy drapes obscured all but cracks of sunlight in floor-to-ceiling windows and the mattress he lay on was... sinfully comfortable.
Hwoarang collapsed back down.
“Jin? Jin-kun, are you in there?”
Hwoarang’s eyes shot open at the unmistakable voice of Jun Kazama and suddenly Jin was there with a sheepish smile, pulling on the last of his clothes as he rounded the bed and gestured at Hwoarang to stay quiet. Hwoarang stared at him blankly.
What the hell had just happened?
[LINK] Next Part
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no subject
Date: 2008-03-19 02:33 pm (UTC)I WISH Hwoarang got the chance to meet the parents. Jun's subtle iron influence and Kazuya's red eyed suspicion make me smile in the best of ways.
Actually for a moment I thought Hwoarang and Jin WEREN'T going on a date. And instead Hwoarang was there to beat up Jin for no particular reason, and half my glee came from watching him try to explain that away. I snortled mightily over "safe" just because the innuendo probably gave Kazuya this inner aneurysm because of the forced image of his son and condoms. *G*
The ending makes me go ??? only because I am CHEATED OF PORN, but also because I would love a part 2 to this. Or even a explanation (with smut). Such as one where Jin drugged Hwoarang's steak and had his dirty, filthy, hoodie way with him, leaving Hwoarang with only the impression of warm tight heat. :DDDD
There should be MOAR! For the good of the world! ♥
no subject
Date: 2008-03-20 08:10 am (UTC)I'll see what I can do about that. ;]
no subject
Date: 2008-03-19 05:05 pm (UTC)The way you wrote Jun and Kazuya was SO great. I love their "interaction," cuz who knows how they actually communicate with that crazy scowling eye. Hwoarang must have felt like he was going mad - going there to fight Jin, and then somehow stumbling through a conversation normally reserved for people dating? Oh man. I love this. So much.
Also, I agree with alita_b_angel - there needs to be MORE of this! I neeeed to know what happened that somehow got Hwoarang into Jin's bed. Smut, if appropriate, would be nice. ;D
Great job!
no subject
Date: 2008-03-20 08:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-19 05:55 pm (UTC)I can hardly blame Hwoarang for being nervous - nobody but Jun can face the glowing red eye of DOOM without fearing for their lives. She truly has a spine of steel.
I'd love to see more
pornof this!no subject
Date: 2008-03-20 08:15 am (UTC)Thank you, I'm so happy you enjoyed.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 06:35 am (UTC)Then the dream aspect was also very nice, especially when he woke to that sinfully comfortable (I've been there!!) feeling and Jin is padding around and he's wondering wth happened. Man, *I* wanna know what happened ♥
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 10:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 10:25 am (UTC)Kudos to whoever made that one.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-26 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-28 01:17 pm (UTC)Anyway. L O V E. <3
I have no idea what to say, rly.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-30 07:05 am (UTC)And thank you, thank you so much, I'm happy you enjoyed this first part (though it's confusing, I know, sorry!).
no subject
Date: 2008-07-31 05:25 pm (UTC)