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Strange things are happening to Jin Kazama. Only after a serious situation does Hwoarang finds out something he wishes he hadn't. Fear and doubt ensue, forcing the Blood Talon to re-think his life.
Chapter 1, Not Quite Right
Disclaimer: Tekken, its characters, including the two characters depicted here, belong to Namco.
Title: Hybrid Child
Author: Kakarot_Veggie, Fuma_x_Seishiro
Category: Yaoi, Romance, Lemon, AU, Mpreg
A/N: Takes place 2 months after the King of Iron Fist Tournament 5 – Jin and Hwoarang are already romantically involved. I'd like to give a special thanks to my fellow JinxHwoarang lover, Fuma_x_Seishiro for teaming up with me to write this fan-fiction, and I hope we can write together in the future. ^_^
Jin Kazama wasn’t a party animal by any means. Nor was he was heavy drinker, only occasionally treating himself to a beer when the need arose. And yet, for the past few weeks or so, he could have very well called the bathroom, and more importantly the toilet, his best friend. Being sick from a hangover was usually Hwoarang’s department, not his. And perhaps the weirdest thing to Jin was the fact that he didn’t recall having any copious amounts of alcohol recently. But he had been so sick lately that he very well may have did just that!
Maybe laying down would ease his upset stomach. Jin couldn’t help but to spit at that thought; he’d practically lost count of how many times he’d gone back and forth between his bed and the bathroom, but decided that it couldn’t hurt to lay down, close his eyes, and maybe try to sleep whatever this was off. Today was not his lucky day, however, because just as he was starting to get comfortable, he could hear the door burst open and Hwoarang’s loud rock music blaring on the same cd player he was hardly ever seen without. Groaning, Jin flopped over to his left side and covered his head with his pillow in hopes of smothering himself.
Behind Jin and standing in the doorway to their bedroom was the Blood Talon himself, convulsing in a wild fit of passion for the current hard rock tune drowning his hearing. He could be heard singing along rather unharmoniously and banging on the walls with the beat of the drums. Jin swallowed hard, his attempt at killing himself wasn’t going as planned, no matter how hard he tried. Finally tiring of all the noise, he sat up and shot Hwoarang a look that could have very well made his little cd player explode. The Korean turned his music down and off, noticing his antics had touched a nerve with the ailing Kazama.
"In case you haven’t noticed Hwoarang, I’ve been puking my brains out for the past few weeks. And your really not helping me with all that racket. Why don’t you go out and ride your motorcycle for a little while? The fresh air is good for you." Jin explained. Hwoarang suddenly felt a sliver of guilt tear through him as he looked at his lover’s run-down appearance. In truth, he really hadn’t payed any mind to Jin’s sudden bout of stomach flu lately, and was just now actually seeing what poor health his partner was in. His face was deathly pale, his eyes were heavy, his lips looked parched. Jin really did look like shit. The Korean approached his lover and took a seat next to him on the bed.
"You’d better not get too close to me Hwoarang." said Jin tiredly.
The Blood Talon, true to his rebellious nature, did not acknowledge his lover’s warning, and put his arm around Kazama. "A little fucking illness isn’t going to keep me from kissin’ you Kazama. Now come here and put a little effort into it!"
Without a moment to think or protest Hwoarang’s offer, Jin felt his lover’s lips against his own as they trembled. His entire body trembled, having been wracked by the stomach flu for a couple weeks. But it felt good to Jin to feel contact with something other than the toilet for once.
"Feel better?" said Hwoarang.
"Not really. Though, it feels good to have my arms around something other than the toilet for once." chuckled Jin nervously.
"Why don’t we go out somewhere? Maybe some fresh air will do us both some good. We could go to that café down the street. Besides, you look like you could use a little caffeine in your system; you look like some rundown fucking bum." Hwoarang couldn’t help but laugh at his lover’s expense.
"That sounds nice. Funny you should mention my appearance; I feel exactly like what you described."
"Cool. We can take my motorbike if you think you can take it."
Hwoarang headed for the doorway, but looked over his shoulder. "Are we–" he stammered.
"Only if you think your ego can take the rude remarks and staring, Hwoarang. I’m perfectly comfortable with my sexuality. But are you?" asked Jin inquisitively while changing into his warm and comfortable blue sweatsuit. The question sounded more like a dare to Hwoarang, who was still having to contend with his ego over the fact that he and Jin were lovers. In the big scheme of things, Hwoarang really had nothing to worry about, his buddies were all back in Korea. And it wasn’t that he didn’t like being seen holding hands with Jin...it was the cruel remarks and staring that he didn’t like.
Being called a faggot or homo. The looks he and his lover would get when they did a simple thing like walk down the street or while they were in a store, or restaurant. It was like the people around him were afraid of catching something, or were afraid that if they showed any interest in something like conversing with Hwoarang while Jin was around, they would in turn become gay themselves.
After a while, it really started to bug the Blood Talon. He just couldn’t understand why people looked down at him when he was with Jin. He loved Jin, why couldn’t anybody accept that and leave it be? Hwoarang would often ask himself this many times at night while he was in bed, with his lover sleeping peacefully next to him.
Fuck them he thought to himself while gazing at Jin tying his sneakers. Why should I suffer just for loving somebody? "Fuck those stupid gay-bashin bastards. Jin, let’s go for it; I’m tired of this shit. You and I shouldn’t have to hide who we are just because other people can’t deal with it!" Hwoarang said somewhat proudly and full of confidence.
Jin smiled warmly. "Right. What’s with the sudden change?" he asked, meeting his lover in the bedroom doorway.
"I’m just tired of dealing with all the bullshit everytime we go out somewhere. We can’t go somewhere without hearing someone call us faggots."
"You just have to block them out is all. C’mon, let’s go."
His cup of hot coffee felt good against his chilled hands. The liquid felt good against his throat as he sipped at it. Kazama looked down at the blueberry muffin that came with his coffee, and wondered if he was feeling well enough to eat it. Even if he wasn’t, however, he would gladly take the risk; it looked fresh, smelled absolutely delicious and tempted him from the napkin it was on. And lately, it was very rare that he left any food to waste. He ate like he’d never ever had a meal before. Deciding to tempt fate, he picked up the muffin, unwrapped it, and took a big bite out of it.
"Good to see you got your appetite back. Though, you couldn’t tell your sick by the way you’ve been eating lately. Can’t leave you alone with food for a minute, Kazama. Is your inner devil starving or something?" Hwoarang chuckled, but was firmly corrected by his lover with a disapproving glance. "Oops. Sorry Jin. Just curious that’s all." the Korean went back to drinking his warm beverage.
"Damn it, not again." said Jin with a wince. He rubbed the side of his head gently, but knew that in a few hours his head would be throbbing. On top of his increased appetite and throwing up, Jin suffered from bad headaches. It was a miracle that he wasn’t a headache pill addict he’d pop them like they were candy.
"Again? Shit that’s like the fourth time you’ve had a bad headache in three weeks. Plus you’ve been popping those damn pills like their fucking candy. What the hell is going on Jin?"
He was practically on his knees by now, begging for the pain to stop. The other patrons in the café looked at him like he was a freak. "How the...hell should I know? This whole thing happened so suddenly. Fuck...I feel sick..." The ill Japanese youth quickly headed for the mens room, leaving Hwoarang to pick up the tab.
Jin was lucky enough to make it to the restroom sink before he threw up rather violently. The violent force of vomiting only made his head pound more until it felt like it would explode and splatter his brain all over the tile walls. Right about now, as his loud, guttural, animal-like noises filled the restroom, Jin prayed to god that no one came in on him during his time of embarrassment. Keeping up with his continued streak of bad luck, a man entered the bathroom and gave the sick Japanese boy a quizzical look through the mirror, then stationed himself at a nearby urinal.
When Jin returned, Hwoarang was quick with the questions. "Did you puke again?"
Jin took a napkin to the corner of his mouth and stuffed it in one of his jacket pockets. "I feel like I just puked my stomach up. Sorry to have ruined everything Hwoarang but, I’d really like to go back home and lay down."
"Sure man. You don’t look too good either. I already payed the tab so we can go ahead and bolt."
Hwoarang was first to jump on his motorbike and made sure Jin had enough room. He was slow to get on the bike, holding his stomach as he did so, and covered himself with the hood of his jacket. "One thing before we leave. Try not to puke on me ok Jin? I’ll go slow and avoid bumps."
Like a cranky tired baby in a car, the sound of Hwoarang’s bike and the gentle motion calmed Jin enough to sleep. And when he woke up, he hoped, this whole illness would be gone and he could get back to doing the things he loved.
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