Disclaimer: Tekken and Tekken characters are the property of Namco Limited. This is nonprofit fan fiction.
Warnings: Strong, mature sexual themes. Slash, yaoi, m/m relationship.
The pairing is Devil Jin/Jin. It seems that a nice, romantic dating fic with Devil Jin and Jin is not happening and, by force of circumstances, the fic has an element of angst in it. This was not an ambition on its own, though.
The night and day mingled together in gray matter, and Jin Kazama no longer longed for the time when they had been two separate entities: he longed for the time when it had made a difference. Now, the days were obscure and the nights a blurred, nightmarish mass, and it was all the same to him.
The change came overnight. Amid the darkness, the blurred mass sharpened to a discernible form that advanced on him with a bold gait, undeterred by their lack of acquaintanceship. The essence it conveyed was dark and brooding, and it neared him apace—
Jin woke with his pulse racing and his heart beating out of his chest. Yet, the alarm was the single sharpest and most distinctly defined emotion he had felt for long. The realization made him elated, but trepidation overcame him quickly, and Jin huddled to himself, deep under the covers.
The form appeared to him again the following night. This time, the form focused into a sharp-edged figure that no longer moved with unearthly speed through the surreal dream world. It made no move to threaten him, nor did it seem ridden with ill intentions, and, gradually, Jin mollified. He studied the figure: well-defined, muscled, well taken care of, tall, and powerful. Familiar in a way he did not understand. Masculine, and utterly and undeniably...
Jin awoke with a start, but the state of waking did not erase the thought. He was horrified to discover that the intimation had stimulated him. Confused and alone, painfully excited, he gathered the blankets in his lap and tried to think of anything else.
That was how the gauntlet was thrown. The daytime showed sharper now, and he became fixated on the quest to learn more of his uninvited visitor.
Each time the figure appeared, its image sharpened. It was definitely male, and while Jin's circumspection screamed protest and urged him to bury this exploration, his being would not permit that. If it chose not to come to Jin at night, as it sometimes did—once, even, for three consecutive days—Jin would be irritable during the day, longing only for the hours of darkness.
The figure always showed itself at a distance, showing its power. It acted as though flirting with him. It was not a threat to Jin, but it had awoken something dangerous now: a drive Jin had kept suppressed and was now both mesmerized and uneasy to discover. The waking quakes had subsided, and he no longer awoke to anxiety. He was always melancholy upon finally waking alone, tangled in the sheets and brimming with hunger.
The night the figure reappeared after an undesired absence, bolder and closer now, they both acknowledged it was going to happen. Letting out clashing noises as it went, the figure advanced on him until it reached his side and allowed Jin to see himself in full for the first time. It was a man: one akin to Jin. His features were no different than Jin's, and yet—even beneath the guise of etched designs—this shackled being was indeed different than he.
Something stirred beyond redemption when their eyes met, and Jin realized the stranger eyed him with want that equaled his. The stranger reached a hand out to him, offering companionship. Jin felt like searching right into his soul as he nodded and lay back, wide awake, and allowed himself be covered. The stranger's moves were expert and rough, and Jin found himself submitting to the inevitable...
...as a hand curled around his length and started stroking...
...as his back arched and a hand snuck to his pajama bottoms and began fingering him, sending him panting in embarrassment and arousal...
...as a tongue flickered over his lower lip before lips sucked together...
...as his stomach clenched in enticement and his body pulsated with life...
The lights were out, but the pale reflections illuminated the room. The nail brush trickled clear water down the sink until the dribble mixed with streaming tap water. Jin lathered his hands in the sink again and washed the suds before finishing off with a coarse towel. He was satisfied. As he looked in the mirror, he wondered if the eyes glowing back at him were his, or his.
Sincere thanks to Gypsie (Gypsie Rose) for the proofreading!
Published November 1, 2009.