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Jin rolled his eyes as Hwoarang cowered behind him. "I thought you weren't scared of anything." Hwoarang gasped in hurt. "I'm not! It's not my fault there's so much blood everywhere!" Jin snickered.
"I see why you're homosexual. Still, this is the corniest horror movie I've ever seen. How is this so popular?" Hwoarang was about to reply, (a very witty one at that, thank you) but a high-pitched shriek from the television snatched his attention straight to the film onscreen.
The stereotypically dim-witted and voluptuous female lead was screaming in horror too real to be fake as she was drenched in sticky, crimson blood. Hwoarang couldn't constrain his whimper and dug his face deeper into Jin's shoulder, who chuckled as if Hwoarang's fear was entertaining, that conceited little bastard.
"Shut up," was Hwoarang's eloquent, slightly muffled answer. "I will," Kazama smirked.
Movie night was an unqualified disaster, for the red haired Korean at least. Jin didn't mind, because that overrated and completely tiresome film had resulted in one good thing.
Later that night, when Jin was just about to turn the lights out, a snall voice mumbled, "Um, Kazama? You know how I said I wasn't scared of anything? Well, I'm not, but..." Jin grinned. "Yes, Hwoarang?" There was a moment of silence. Understanding what his significant other was struggling to say, Jin said kindly, "You can hold my hand if you want."
"I don't," protested Hwoarang immediately. However, an incredibly needy hand jumped at the chance and groped around Jin's forearm and wrist to finally wrap around its target. "Well, you might be scared after watching that, but I'm not." said Hwoarang and Jin couldn't even bring himself to be surprised at the amount of conviction in his voice.
Jin squeezed Hwoarang's hand reassuringly. He'd probably let him pick out the movie next time too.
~ ~ ~
"I really don't think this is a good idea. We could have just gone out for dinner, or something like that." Jin expostulated half-heartedly as Hworang dragged him inside, but not before fist-bumping the overly tattooed bouncer.
"You got to choose what we did last week, now it's my turn and this is what I wanna do!" Hwoarang insisted and Jin sighed, giving in. Neon lights flashed and flickered and a loud English song boomed and blasted its way into Jin's poor eardrums.
Countless bodies gyrated and ground against each other and Jin had to rack his brains thoroughly to try to understand why someone would willingly come here for the purpose of fun. Clubbing, one of Hwoarang's favourite pastimes.
They didn't linger on the dance floor for long though as Hwoarang quickly jumped over to the bar, taking Jin along with him. He quickly spoke something to the scrawny bartender. The bartender turned to smirk in Jin's direction and shouted something over the electric beat echoing through the club.
Hwoarang turned to Jin and couldn't repress his snort. Two women were making out messily, getting awfully handsy with each other, and Jin couldn't turn his curious gaze away. Curious might not be the right word for it though. Maybe slightly appalled would be more fitting. "They look like they're eating each other's faces off."
"Stop acting like a kiss expert and let 'em do it the the way they wanna." snickered Hwoarang, amused that Jin would be nitpicking someone else's canoodling techniques when he kissed like a desperate virgin. Not that Hwoarang minded.
"I'm not trying to, I just think that there are better ways to show affection." Jin somehow even managed to sound offended and Hwoarang giggled at him. "Yeah? How come you never show me those ways of affection?" Jin gave him an acerbic look.
"Fine, just don't ask me for sex for another fifteen years." Hwoarang, quite jaded to Jin's sass, replied, "Kinky." Jin rolled his eyes, but even in the dimness of the club, Hwoarang could see the way the corners of his mouth curled up into a half-smile.
"Here you are, sorry not sorry for the wait." The bartender put the two glasses in front of them and quickly swooped off to 'serve' another woman winking at him.
The drink Hwoarang had chose for himself had a reddish hue and Jin's intoxicant was a light pink. "You aren't drugging me, are you?" Hwoarang smirked. "Well, you did just deny me a decade and half of oral..."
"When I said that you shouldn't expect any sex for fifteen years, oral and anal was included." Nevertheless, Jin lifted his drink to his mouth, somewhat warily. The slight burn was expected, but the aftertaste was quite lovely. A nice mixture of botanical herbs, and without thinking he took another sip.
"Good, huh?" Hwoarang boasted his booze-choosing qualities. "Thought you'd like something with a bit less sting." He said it carelessly, but Jin was quite touched that he had even bothered to spend thought on what inebriant he would prefer. "It's alright, I suppose."
Hwoarang pouted. "No thank you? I was expecting more from the ever grateful Kazama you are." Jin raised his eyebrows at him. "Oh yeah? I suppose the gratitude you were expecting somehow involved me on my knees?"
Hwoarang beamed. "How do you know me so well?" Jin laughed breathily. "I've gotten used to it, to be honest." Now, the song behind them had changed from rapid and pulse quickening to slow and sultry. It was Japanese, and Jin was trying his best not to focus on the lecherous double meanings of the lyrics, but that proved much harder to do when his alcohol muddled brain was screaming at him to jump on Hwoarang right then and there.
Jin was sure he could hold his alcohol better than that though, and ultimately decided to keep it in his pants. Unfortunately, Hwoarang didn't fully understand the definition of maintaining public decency because about four or seven drinks later, he was all but begging Jin for a quickie. "I'll be done in less than a minute! Can't you at least use your hands if you don't feel like a sore throat?"
Several people around them chuckled and Jin felt his face flush. He knew trusting Hwoarang with anything would either end up in an ugly brawl or a night of endless fucking. "I think we've had enough," Jin murmured and slammed some money on the counter. Hwoarang smirked. "Good idea baby, we can finally put that stupid rich ass bed you got to use."
"Sleep on the floor, do you?" Jin dragged Hwoarang out of the club and into the sketchy streets. Maybe it was Jin's pissy demeanour or lack of reciprocation, but Hwoarang soon realised that he wasn't getting any Kazama tonight and so began to put up quite a racket, making passers-by stare at them curiously.
Jin sighed in exasperation as Hwoarang to cross his arms over his chest and stomp his feet like a child who had been denied candy. "You never let me fuck you!" A blonde woman pushing her kid along in a stroller cast the two of them a dirty look, as if they were defiling her child. When Hwoarang's vocabulary was taken into consideration, that did seem likely.
On any normal occasion, Jin would just walk off and although grudgingly and muttering death threats, Hwoarang would follow as he didn't like to cause a public scene. At the moment, though, he was shit-faced and holy hell if his temper didn't make him do stupid things. Stupider than usual anyways. "Fine," Jin spat and he might have laughed at the change in Hwoarang's expression.
"Thought you'd say s-so, darling," Hwoarang smirked in what he thought was a seductive way, but it really came out more as goofy. Jin sighed. The things he would do for this petulant, smooth-brained idiot. "I'll only let you when we get home, so you might want to get a move on." He strolled off and sure enough, Hwoarang quickly caught up, seizing him by the waist and whining about being left behind by the person who should love him the most.
Asshat.
~ ~ ~
"Okay, so the recipe says two eggs and- Hwoarang, you're not supposed to crack them like that!" Hwoarang rolled his eyes. "We need them cracked don't we? What does it matter how we break them?" Jin rolled his eyes. "It matters if you don't want eggshells in the cupcakes."
It was Jin's birthday tomorrow, but Hwoarang had insisted that they do an early celebration (mainly because he had been craving cake all week) and so here they were, standing in the kitchen of Hwoarang's cramped apartment, arguing over how the eggs were supposed to be cracked. Oh, and they were baking cupcakes instead of a cake, because Hwoarang only had a cupcake tray.
"You do it then if you're so smart!" Hwoarang pouted and threw an egg at Jin, who caught it looking unamused. "Smarter than you anyway," Jin muttered and cracked the poor egg into a bowl, the correct way, mind you.
They continued in this vein for quite some time (debating over how much vanilla essence was enough vanilla essence and almost throwing punches over how much icing should go on each cupcake) until the tray was finally in the oven. Jin collapsed onto a nearby chair, seeing as he was the one who'd done most of the work.
Hwoarang was jumping impatiently in front of the oven that held his sweet treasure. About half an hour or something later, rainbow sprinkles were scattered all over the counter and floor as Hwoarang had taken charge of the matter of toppings. Jin watched, an exasperated smile tugging at the corners of his lips as Hwoarang sweared for umpteenth time, slipping on the milk he spilt on the floor.
"Look Kazama, I know I'm hot as fuck but can you get your ass out of here for a minute? I wanted this to be a suprise, but I didn't want to burn my fingers with the oven." Jin smirked. "How incredibly thoughtful of you." Hwoarang blushed. "Thanks, now get the fuck out."
Another few minutes later, Hwoarang walked into the living room, the cupcakes clumsily clustered around eachother. Jin looked like a cat who had got the cream when Hwoarang tripped over something on the shitty carpet and nearly fell flat on his face. Bitch.
"No happy birthday song?" Jin giggled. Hwoarang flipped him the bird and pushed Jin out of the armchair he'd been residing in. "Fuck off, we both know my voice is way too good to be singing that preschool nursery rhyme." "I hardly think that the Happy Birthday song counts as a nursery rhyme."
"Well, you're wrong then aren't you? Now, just shut your smartass mouth or I'll have them all, seeing as I'm the one who put in all the work." Jin snickered. "And I am sure you did."
As Hwoarang devoured the treat of his minimal labour like a man who had been starving for several months, Jin stared at him, quite transfixed. The orange-red rays of the setting sun came in through the window, the thin curtains doing nothing to stop them. The light highlighted the singular streak of red in Hwoarang's hair.
Jin had never really had time to think about whether Hwoarang's new hair was an upgrade or downgrade, but he looked pretty much the same. There was still a tiny bit of him wishing it was just a bit more red.
"Look, you're pretty damn weird normally, but you've been zoning out more than usual." This brought Jin out of his reverie. "Oh, it's nothing really, I just never noticed how different you look with your new hairstyle." Hwoarang patted down his hair.
"Oh yeah, I just thought about a change. You know most Koreans don't have red hair and well..." Jin frowned. "You changed your hair because most people don't have the same?" That didn't sound like Hwoarang at all. The man in question quickly shook it off. "Well, it's good to try new things right? It doesn't matter anyway."
Jin nodded, not really agreeing. "I don't usually like to add to your inflated ego but," Jin paused for the slightest second. "Red doesn't look all that bad on you." Silence.
Until Hwoarang tackled Jin in a rough kiss and before long, both of them were spalyed on the couch, internally cursing their need for oxygen. "I know it does." The neighbours might need some earplugs later on.