Reply to the anonymous reviewer:
Anonymous, thanks for the review! The passage you were referring to with the welterweight comment (Chapter 3) was from Steve's perspective, though, not a claim I was making. Similarly, in this chapter, you see Steve going slightly off the mark with his estimation of Hwoarang's height.
Chapter 4: Vixen
Steve lay on his back and turned to his side. Hwoarang was still sleeping peacefully.
After Hwoarang had escorted him back to his room, he had stayed on for company, and they had more or less bundled: slept in the same bed with their clothes on. Hwoarang had just kicked his shoes off and crawled on top of the covers next to him.
Steve couldn't resist watching him. When Hwoarang forgot to frown, he looked his age: young enough to yet be an idealist. A fond smile emerged . . . and made way for a wince that reminded him that his head had been splitting only hours ago. Steve ran the risk and glanced at Hwoarang once more before letting his head sink into the pillow and closing his eyes with a smile.
The new understanding put an end to the nervous tension that had been flying amok. There wasn't a reason to remain agitated because everything had been laid clear. There wasn't anything to fight about. They could even have breakfast together and laugh, as Hwoarang explained some story, wildly gesturing with his hand. The other remained under the table, steadily latched onto Steve's thigh.
Steve couldn't help wondering about Jin a little: he really didn't seem to make much of it, even though he had to know something was going on. He thought he got Jin's attitude, though, and kicked back, without really listening to whatever Hwoarang was droning on about. Whatever it was, it still sounded pretty great to him.
The only problem was finding room to make something of the new understanding. The hopes of having a quiet time were effectively thwarted by the training, and the shared accommodation was efficient at keeping the urges at bay, too. By evening, Steve had to bow to the inevitable and reconcile himself to accepting that nothing was going to happen. So much for entertaining a bit of how's your father. He headed to take a shower.
He barely nudged the door closed and put his things down, about to secure the lock, when the door was cracked open and Hwoarang slipped into the room.
Steve smiled a little, but he pointed out, "I'm taking a shower."
Then what...? "But wh—"
Hwoarang pulled off his shirt up his arms and stopped to take a good look at Steve, with an expression that clearly said, "Well, duh."
Oh. The light bulb lit.
Hwoarang smirked and still gave him a look before reaching for his belt. Steve woke and darted past him to bolt the door. When the door was safe, they exchanged smiles, breathing into each other's space, intoxicatingly near . . . and parted without making a contact, as Hwoarang was finished and moved to the tub, but not before sizing Steve up through his pants and showing off what he had. Behind the curtain, the shower went off, and the screaky noises that didn't come from Hwoarang hinted that the water was being adjusted.
Steve heaped the last of his clothes on the toilet seat and was welcomed to the warm steam of the tub. Hwoarang made room for him, smug, and—worryingly? Excitingly?—left him in the front.
It was exciting, Steve quickly decided. Hwoarang let him get his feet wet before drawing closer, and Steve felt hands touch his trapezius muscles lightly; they sent thrills down his back. The hands roved around him, tickling and baiting, just light enough to make him hang on and just fresh enough not to make him frustrated yet. Steve backed up a little.
A chuckle came, and the fingers were switched to palms, which ran along his back and sides. Hwoarang briefly reached above his shoulder, wetting his hands in the spray, and then returned to Steve's back, moist and heated through the deceptive cool.
"Hey," Hwoarang said in a silky voice, suddenly by Steve's ear.
Steve tilted his head, and Hwoarang sank onto kissing him from the side, nearing his back at the same time, so close they were a smidgeon from touching. The body heat, imaginary or not, played havoc with Steve's imagination.
Just then, Hwoarang broke off the kiss, leaving Steve dangling for more. Steve craned his neck, but Hwoarang backed out of reach, infuriatingly close still, and snapped his fingers. Liquid soap was near enough, and Steve spurted a right pool of it in his outstretched hands, satisfied when Hwoarang jumped behind him. Expecting a soap bar, weren't you? Steve toned down the volume of the spray, and Hwoarang seemed to let go of his indignation, as he wrapped his arms around Steve and began spreading soap on his chest.
Steve noted incoherently how the hand went down his abdomen. While the other one remained around his chest, distracting him, the one hand ventured further still. Hwoarang ran a thick thumb across his shaft before curling his palm around his balls and running a sweep on them. After the introductions, Hwoarang grabbed his cock confidently and administered it lathery strokes. Hwoarang coaxed him to turn his head to the side, and the kissing resumed, with Hwoarang taking full possession of Steve's mouth while effectively soaping him up.
Steve knew he had an inch or two on Hwoarang, despite Hwoarang trying to mitigate the height difference as best as he could, which meant Hwoarang had to be standing on his tippy toes. The idea of Hwoarang on his tippy toes amused him, which prompted Hwoarang to cut loose and mutter, "What?"
Steve didn't think too long. "Feels good."
Steve got a light peck on his lips and a squeeze on his dick, and then Hwoarang moved swiftly past him, the tip of his penis brushing high up on Steve's hip as he did. Then, Hwoarang was standing in front of him, leaning down a little so pointy red hair met his gaze, and Steve could see Hwoarang smiling as he tugged at his dick again, from the base to the tip. Hwoarang worked the shower back on. Clear drops of stray water pearled in his hair and gleamed brightly.
"I think it's clean now," Steve said in amusement.
And while Steve had expected Hwoarang to let go of his dick and lavish attention on his other parts instead, Hwoarang killed the shower and promptly dropped on his knees before doing every man's dream. Hwoarang kept looking at him while doing it, and Steve groaned in earnest; this was a situation where he should've been sprawled on a bed instead of trying to stand and futilely keep his knees from buckling. There was no greater aphrodisiac than to have someone going down on you and enjoying it. Thataway.
Someone banged the door. "How long are you taking there? Other people need the room, too!"
Asuka Kazama had found a way to make a three-way less sexy.
Steve looked incredulous. Hwoarang slowed down and pricked up his ears, mainly to see what Steve would do, but he didn't stop entirely. Asuka banged the door again.
"A little busy," Steve called.
One, two, three...
"You are disgusting!" Asuka shrieked.
She stomped off, leaving the pair badly out of step. Hwoarang's concentration had been broken irrevocably. He cleared his throat, with a lick to his lips and another one that touched a little more than just air, and gave Steve a glance.
"In all honesty, I don't think she guessed right."
Steve gaped. "I can't believe this."
Hwoarang smiled wryly. "Yeah. She's a gift that keeps on giving."
The mirth took over little by little, and Steve was able to give a chuckle, then a laugh. He ruffled his hair and looked down, finding Hwoarang still there. An imploring look from him, along with a tactical swing, goaded the man to resume. Hwoarang grabbed his cock again with a smirk and took a willing taste, but Steve only got two delicious sucks before his member was again left at the mercy of air.
"Sorry," Hwoarang said. Steve's disbelief was sizeable as Hwoarang fell back on the tub, shaking. "Sorry, I can't," he managed and broke out in laughter.
"You can't be serious," he appealed. "Come on..."
Shaking his head, Hwoarang was laughing uncontrollably, and he squeezed Steve's dick by accident, which put Steve wincing a little. Steve was still giving him an appealing look, and Hwoarang did his best to sober up.
The flesh was willing, but the spirit was weak. Hwoarang tried putting in his mouth, but he was quickly reduced to laughter. He could only grab the root and look at Steve in apology. "Sorry, it's just not working. Any time I try, I start thinking about it. You'll get teeth if I try."
"Don't say anything about teeth, or that's going to take a lot longer," Steve said with a shudder, protectively.
Hwoarang gave a dry laugh, but he was sympathetic. "There are other ways," he said mindfully. "Rain check?"
Steve acquiesced reluctantly. Hwoarang gave him a reassuring smirk and a quick kiss on the tip, along with a long lick along the connecting vein, as a promise for more tongue-massage later. He did stay at the bottom of the tub for a while longer, though.
Steve kicked back after a particularly satisfying snog session and sighed contently. "Why didn't we think of this before?"
His old chap was still tingling from the joy of their activities, and he felt around fifty for thinking that. On his side, Hwoarang cracked an eye open and grinned at him. It didn't take long of him to crawl from under the covers, with his naked self in full view, and resume the activities. On his hands and knees, he left Steve hanging before pressing their lips together. Steve motioned his mouth over Hwoarang's.
Hwoarang eventually pulled away, just out of reach. Head tilted still, a lopsided grin on his face, he flung a leg over Steve and straddled him loosely. Still smirking, and being smirked back at just the same, he lowered himself, sitting lightly. Steve gave a throaty sigh to show that he appreciated the thinness of the sheet. "I like you there," he said with a smirk. That was Hwoarang astride, not him.
Hwoarang realized the same. "I bet," he said dryly, but he didn't seem to mind too much. On the contrary: he took the opportunity to sit down straight on Steve's bulge, to the very appreciative Steve's delight. Even with the sheets between them, the implications teased him cruelly.
"Feeling good?" Hwoarang murmured as he leaned down all the way to nozzle Steve's neck lightly.
"Nonsense," Hwoarang murmured. "Twat."
"Don't call me that."
"What's it mean?"
"Nothing you need to worry about," Steve said and pulled Hwoarang down firmly to kiss him.
It did feel really good, but eventually he had to let Hwoarang roll on the side and get comfortable. Hwoarang stretched out royally and sprawled across the sheets.
Steve processed the progression of events thus far and found them pleasing to the point of delirium. Hwoarang didn't seem worse off, either; he was smug enough for more. Before he could stop it, the question got out. "What to do from here?"
The casual tone of voice failed. Steve saw immediately that Hwoarang took it for the serious question it was and cursed himself. He cursed himself further as Hwoarang picked himself up and draped a corner of the sheet up to his navel. He had made a mess of things. Steve had his heart leap up his throat until Hwoarang spoke.
"I haven't thought about it yet. Haven't had a chance to, yet." Hwoarang looked at Steve under his brow and quickly moved to stare at the sheets instead. He continued to stare even as he made the offer that brought a grin to Steve's face. "I was thinking, though... we've the whole tournament to ourselves. Take that time and see what comes out of it?"
Twat, in addition to having the meaning of twit (nitwit), a moron, is also a word for female private parts. Old chap had no competition from old faithful or mustn'touchit. Beyond the pale, the name of this fic, means 'beyond that which is acceptable, past the limits of acceptable.'
This has been one fun story to write. Thanks for reading! Please review.
Heartfelt thanks to Gypsie for proofreading the entire story!
Published August 7, 2010.