The Dagger Series

The Blade Switches Hands

Chapter 1

Hwoarang reared back a fist full of hair, his slick sweating skin brushing against the silk of his lover's wet flesh with every thrust. The feral cries every push of his hips elicited only rose in pitch with the forceful tug of his fingers into damp, lust laden tendrils.

"Fuck yeah….the rougher the better…huh baby?" the Blood Talon groaned in primal inflection, his free hand braced to the lower spine of the body writhing, face down and ass up beneath him….

"More!" The husky, breathless voice echoed with one hand wadded up in the twisted coverlet. A dark groan replaced any chance for words as the firm swell of skin rode back like a tidal wave to envelop the crashing length cleaving the ample body in two.

"Fuck…" The guttural hiss of Korean pressed past panting lips, the thrust uniting two shaking figures with a vicious slap of flesh…and the echo of divine agony. "...nobody gives it to you like this, do they, baby? No body fucking dares…"

"Hwoarang please…so close." The feminine pleading woke the Blood Talon from his memory….his lover's body shaking with near hypothermic desire…dangling so wantonly at the precipice of release….

"You want it…fuck…keep begging…" the Korean youth growled as the unifying force became torturously shallow. Sienna eyes rolled back as he felt the heat pooling between his thighs. She wasn't the only one ready to give in to the feeling. Thoughts of the past always made Hwoarang fuck…that much harder….that much better.

"Please…Hwoarang…" She bit the edge of her lip, her words coming through gripping teeth….the Korean knew that sound…that motion…and the heat of her body enveloped him like a slick geyser overrun with pressure.

"God damn, Ji…Julia…I will keep you here all night…if you don't start fucking begging…" the Blood Talon hissed as the hand that fisted in dark locks released and took a firm hold of a curvaceous hip. The more she pleaded, the more he wanted to break her in half and he was already so intensely close….

"Hwoarang…I can't hold it…please…break me open…please…make me suffer…"

"I beg you….Oh god, please…I am so close…please…harder…I am so...close…" Her cries were a beautiful pitch of wanton whines….so vulgar in raw need to contradict the controlled demeanor that gripped her at every moment but this one.

The hand that braced the small of her back slid to the opposite hip, forcing the woman to still as the Korean drew on the remainder of his strength. "Good girl," he hissed with an arrogant smile…and sent his length pistoning into the hot wet depths that squeezed all around him…eyes shutting tightly as her pitch increased… and her body convulsed beneath his bittersweet agony.

(Chapter Break)

Hwoarang leaned his back against the tile wall as the hot soaking rain of the shower overtook his exorcised skin. A hard, dark session like this always left him eager for another…always released the demons of his past and made him crave the taste of sweat and skin all over again. But it wasn't her skin.

It was "his."

The Korean youth could still recall the taste of his lover's skin…the smell of his musk…the heat of that perfect body receiving…giving…locked in as many forms of debauchery as the two could dream up. They had been a dangerous combination in their time. But "their" time was over. Had been for months now…but the longing still remained and in moments like this it burned the Blood Talon alive to remember those encounters.

It was an affair that never should have been. Self destructive, arrogant, dark…and in every conceivable way…completely wrong. And yet, nothing had ever felt so fucking right. From the first kiss to the last scream…it was a desire as forbidden and sadomasochistic as their frantic coupling….and equally as secret.

Jin Kazama.

Pretty rich boy from a respected bloodline. A pacifist who took pleasure in fighting, though the Japanese youth would never admit it out loud, not even to Hwoarang. But the Blood Talon knew it was there…knew it by the slight smirk that formed at the corners of the hulking Kazama's lips when that perfect combination connected…with perfect brutality to an unprepared adversary. Jin enjoyed his power, even if his lighter side grappled with that sadistic urge.

The Korean, on the other hand, outlandishly boasted his sadism….pumping his fists after every physical victory as though refilling his own heart with vital blood. He liked the feel of sweat and blood on his hands…enjoying the sensation in tournament, spar or street fights…and he liked it even more when it was Jin's.

Rivals. That was what the world called them. An endless instigative pursuit of the one perfect fight, one complete victory…how everyone thought the Korean so narrow fucking minded, Hwoarang would never know. But it served his cover…and once, it had not been far from the truth…at least not when it came to Jin…

"Hwoarang?" The voice broke sanctum and the Korean ran his hands through drenched copper tendrils, the long ends brushing his muscular shoulders. "We have to go soon if we are going to make Steve's fight."

"It's not a fight, it's a title defense." The Blood Talon sputtered water from his lips in irritation. She always knew just how to ruin his memories and make him want to brood like a spoiled bitch.

"A fight is a fight. Come on, we are going to be late," she sighed, as Hwoarang killed the stream of the jets and opened the glass shower door.

"You weren't saying that during the Iron Fist, now where you? A fight wasn't just a fight when you were trying to win the thing to get your fingers on the money to fund your tree hugging hippie reforestation shit?" (Question mark, this sentence as it stands is hard to hear as a question. Add a "was it?" or something or remove question mark.) The Korean stepped out of the shower and onto the awaiting bathmat. Taking up the towel, he draped the terrycloth around his narrow hips as sienna eyes locked up with his counterpart. The next tournament would start soon enough. It would be his third of the official six…and still he was no closer to victory. He was calling Japan home, these days anyway, so what the fuck did it really matter?

"Let's not go into tonight as a fight again. I swear I don't need another lecture on how you're no good for me. Unless I should start listening to Ling afterall?" Julia rolled her eyes and watched the Blood Talon reach for the electric razor he kept charging on the bathroom vanity. Vanity…was such an appropriate word…

"Well then, why don't you run off with Ling and have some tree hugging lesbo ceremony in the woods? Think she can get you off the way I can?" Hwoarang snickered as he studied himself in the mirror…being ever so careful as he trimmed the sideburns that clung to the line of his ear on either side…scrutinizing before the first cut to ensure the hair was even there.

"You know, Hwoarang. Not everything is a challenge to your manhood…" Julia shook her head softly. "Why do I keep putting up with you?"

The Korean turned his head left to right, inspecting the slight change he had made with the razor's edge just prior to his shower. Satisfaction. The impossible area was even at last. "Unlike every one of your whining friends, you're the only one who doesn't go to bed at night wondering how many more you have to fake before your boyfriend gets it right. Now show some gratitude and stop bitching at me for a change."

"I give up," Julia hissed, throwing her hands up in the air as she turned to walk out of the bathroom.

Hwoarang half cocked an arrogant smile and reached out, grasping Julia back to him by the belt that hung loosely around her denim clad hips. "You give up on me every day…" He purred hot breath against her unbound mane.

Julia shivered softly as she heard the soft click of the Koreans tongue against his teeth…a sound as good as a coo…and so unbelievably inane and enticing all at the same time. "But then you say or do something to redeem yourself and I remember what it is I first saw in you…."

"Arrogance? Danger? Incredible good looks?" Hwoarang purred as Julia turned in his arms to face him.

"Yeah…some of those…but there is more to you than all the sum of your more irritating parts." She could not help but crack a smile. Of all the women the Korean could have picked, it was her….and likewise…she gave up someone special…for something even more special in Hwoarang. Steve was never going to be able to give her what she wanted…and Julia could not allow herself to be second best. For all the banter, the Blood Talon never made her feel like a shadow behind his ambition….she could not say the same of her former relationship with Steve.

"You weren't complaining about my 'parts' a little while ago. You should loosen up more often…" The Korean arched a brow suggestively. It wasn't often Julia let him unleash his darker side…and every session that ended made Hwoarang look forward to the next rare and intense night that did not require candles, gentle foreplay and endless pillow talk.

"I thought you like me tight?" Julia snickered before letting free a slight yelp as the Korean pulled her deeper into his strong embrace.

"You read me like a book, babe," he purred as a smile fell over his lips. He had to give her that one. Witty comebacks were instant aphrodisiac.

(Chapter Break)

"You are so late!!" Ling shouted and her voice carried, even over the throng assembled in the arena…hitting Hwoarang's ears like an assailment of teenage girls over the latest boy band craze. Little shit-heads knew nothing about real music…sweat, blood and guitars that echoed like the vengeance of angels….swords blazing and white wings stained with blood.

"I'm sorry, something came up. How far in are we…what round?" Julia tried her best to look apologetic.

"Something came up alright." The Chinese youth let her words drip with insinuation as her eyes fell on the Blood Talon…being dragged along with fingers entwined in Julia's. "It's the third round…and I still don't know what you see in him…"

Hwoarang rolled his eyes and withdrew his hand from Julia's. "Don't you usually wait till I am gone before you start talking shit about me, Ling?" the Korean hissed and narrowed his eyes…but it was Julia's gentle look that made him give up before a round of verbal assault could kick in. "Alright, that's the cue for me to find some alcohol. Go forth, women. Cackle about the bad boyfriend and ruin this testosterone fueled event. That's why we never bring you chicks to a bar…too much estrogen clogging up an honest night out."

"Honest night out? You call two guys trying to break each other's faces an honest night out. Sick." Ling rolled her eyes and slid her hand around Julia's arm.

"Fuck yeah. Two guys working out anxiety with their fists…not giving a shit about anything but knocking the other guy out. Sweat and balls, ladies…that's an honest night out." The Korean never understood how Ling, a martial artist and a damn good one in her own right, could bitch and moan about something as real as fighting. Was the Korean the last meat eater amongst a host of hippie vegans?

"Let's just have you two agree to disagree, alright?" Julia breathed out sharply. Making a choice between your boyfriend and your best friend was just not a fence worth climbing…especially when this interchange was a regular event. If Hwoarang and Ling ever got along with each other, Julia would swear she woke up in an alternate universe.

"Whatever." Ling was already pulling Julia into the crowd as the female looked back and put her well shaped arm up in the air. The signal for beer. Hwoarang rose his own in response, two fingers sailing into the air as he turned and walked away, proverbially waving the two females off. Ling must have had her panties in a bunch tonight…the Chinese youth usually waited till Hwoarang was out of earshot to start her incessant whining…

"Jin, you should let me go with you…I mean…what if he does something dirty? I mean look at the guy…he won't fight fair…we both know that just as well as we know him!" Ling turned her head to the side and narrowed her eyes maliciously toward the fake red-head that waited astraddle his bike…like a viper ready to spit venom.

"I got no problem making this a two-for one," the Korean snickered, revving the engine on his polished American bike with a vengeance. "Now, what's it gonna be, Kazama…wanna hold onto mommy's apron strings or are we gonna do this?" The whole idea had been Jin's. Find a nice crowded place where the two could see people walking around and carrying on with everyday life…while playing the game that would force the Korean to be taken as quiet as possible…not far from the throngs of people all around them. The thrill of being caught…of showcasing his control had been a confessional fantasy the Japanese spoke of…and up until mere moments before, it was a go. For a former rich boy, Jin had serious kink…and enough experience to keep the equally fiery Korean guessing how this, and every one of their secret encounters, would end…

Jin straddled his less than glamorous bike and drew up the kick stand with the back of his boot. "This is just something we have to work out, Ling. I would not have met him here if I was not ready for this to happen." Jin looked back over his shoulder after letting the Korean's comments soak in. Hwoarang knew that look…perfect sadism. Jin was going to be topping him hard tonight…and the thought made the Blood Talon want to get the hell out of this place as fast as possible…make that unspoken promise a reality…salvage the mood…

"So let's sum up what Kazama is saying. Fuck off," Hwoarang hissed as he lowered his orange goggles over sienna eyes. "It might be the first time pretty-boy and I have ever agreed on anything." Jin had not always been the dominant partner…the first encounters had been switch. But the more the Japanese found how the Korean had no moral qualms…no limits…the more Jin remained the dom. It had become a craving, an addiction for Hwoarang…and yet his lover knew enough when it was time to relinquish that control and let the Korean make him suffer. For as hot as Jin could be as a top...he was equally as hot and wanton as a bottom.

"You fuck off!" Ling nearly spit her words as Jin revved the engine of his own bike…watching the Korean peel out with one gloved hand in the air…middle finger extended as a final retort to the Chinese youth's uncharacteristic come back. Hwoarang was at the end of his patience…and he wasn't going to waste another moment of his raging hard cock on this bullshit and circumstance.

Hwoarang wound his way through the crowd, both hands suspended above his head as fingers gripped two cold plastic cups of beer. For a World Boxing Federation event, the alcohol should have been classier. Or so the Korean thought. He had been to cheap death metal and hard rock concerts that had better suds than this place. Fuck imported German beer. And fuck the world of advertising that told him it was better than a good old fashioned long neck bottle of American brand.

He spotted the two women in the front, hands cupped before glossy lips as they shouted support for Steve Fox. The Boxer had taken some hits or so Hwoarang could see as he drew closer…but the Brits domination was all over the mat…in blood stains. What could be more honest than that? Two guys working off anxiety…beating the shit out of each other and the politically correct society that normally shunned acts of aggression. The Korean guessed aggression was only justified when ticket sales were in the red. Profit determined society…the more of it, the better.

God damn, he missed street fighting. Hwoarang managed his den more than participating in it. There was nothing honest about his criminal counterparts and the hundreds of sharked fights…but it was spiritual in its own right…brutality for the sake of nothing else. Well, maybe some yen to line the pocket.

"One beer." The Korean bumped Julia with his shoulder, shocking the girl out of her fanatic cries of support for the British Boxer. His ego should have been injured to see her so wild…especially considering what Julia and Steve had before he walked onto the scene. It had its moments of awkwardness, considering how close Hwoarang and Steve had become over the years…barring the slight angsty tension created when the Korean and Julia first got together. But things had gelled nicely over the past few months, even if the Blood Talon believed the Boxer was looking forward to the coming of the Tournament…and a chance to face him in the ranks. Justification was always best served when the circumstances appear to be chance and out of your own field of blame and control. Least, that is how the Blood Talon would have viewed it if the roles had been reversed.

"Thanks babe." Julia brushed an errant lock of hair that had fallen out of place in her frenzy, back behind her ear. She took a heavy sip to sate a thirsty, scream inflicted throat and smiled. Hwoarang was nothing if not attentive…even if Ling could not see it…and refused to believe her incessant swear that he actually was pretty damn good to her. Yes, they had their problems…but not everything required extreme actions like Ling suggested. Not everything was worthy of a break up.

"Did it occur to you that I might be thirsty?" Ling huffed as she gave Hwoarang a side long smirk.

"Like I fucking care? I don't like you anyway. And don't try to bullshit me, the feeling is more than mutual." The Korean pursed his lips and took a draught of his beer, just to spite the Chinese irritant.

"That's a big sentence for you, isn't it? Words like 'mutual' are longer than two syllables." It was absolutely true. Ling disliked Hwoarang from the moment she met him…and after all these years she doubted that would ever change. Julia could have done better…and better, meant Steve.

Hwoarang rolled his eyes. The one thing that secretly got to him…were those occasional cracks about his intelligence. It was true, in some respects. The Korean youth never had much of a formal education, never graduated schooling…but he had a wealth of street smarts and wit sharp enough to cut through steel…mix that with common sense and it could have been enough to fill an entire textbook. That had to count for something?

The Korean turned his attention to the fight. Steve was in great form. Glistening with sweat as the white of his mouth guard revealed that knowing, winning smile. Game almost over. The rest was about showmanship…that unspoken desire to show the masses why he was the Boxing Champ….a god among mortal men.

"Hold this for me babe, I gotta take a piss." Hwoarang leaned against Julia, long enough to make his statement and hand off his half drained plastic cup.

The beautiful Chinese American female turned to connect with her dark eyes as a small smile licked against her lips….the edge of her chin braced to the line of her angular shoulder. She watched as the Blood Talon slid like a shadow into the crowd…letting her smile widen for just a second longer. He was beautiful to watch in a crowded element environment …graceful and almost predatory.

Julia held Hwoarang's cup in her free hand, adjusting the grip before returning her attentions to the fight…and the brilliant boxer, her former lover, Steve Fox. A part of her heart would always belong to the Brit…and for as intense as that feeling rode through her spirit, so did her love for Hwoarang. Granted, the words had never been said between she and the Korean youth…but it was there…and that sensation, even unspoken, still mattered more to her than almost anything. Almost…anything.