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Arthur

judin in _noiresensus

Fic: Tekken: Hit the Wall

 Title: Hit the Wall
Author: Judin Attery
Webjournal: http://judin.livejournal.com/profile
Fandom: Tekken
Rating: NC-17
WIP/One-shot/Series: One-shot
Classifications: Lemon, Short fic
Warnings: yaoi, non-consensual sex, some violence
Pairing: Bryan Fury/Lei Wulong
Author’s notes: I think Dr. Abel is a very interesting character, because on one hand he is insane, and on the other hand he’s sharply intelligent and calculating. All in all a lot of fun to write.
Also, Bryan calls Lei by his given name because he knows how insulting it is. From what I’ve learned it takes a very trusting and intimate relationship for Chinese to call each other by their first names, I’m not even sure if it is a practised at all! (Feel free to fill me in on the reality of this).
Third and last, if you are wondering why Dr. Abel uses “san” to address Heihachi even though he is not Japanese, I figured that since he is Heihachi’s employee it would be expected of him. You have to show respect for your boss, after all.
 
Summary: Lei is looking for a solution, Dr. Abel is not helping and Bryan is clueless and horny.
 
 
 
Dr. Abel looked up when the elevator doors opened with a swish, abandoning the large tank that he had been examining to walk towards them. “They told me from upstairs that someone wanted to see me. An unexpected visitor is always welcome; I get so few these days.”
 
The guest accepted his offered hand and shook it briefly while looking around in awe. The lab was lit mostly by white lamps in the floor, leaving the walls dark blue and the low ceiling completely hidden. It was a world of machines and chemicals, a labyrinth of technology and progress. It was cold.
 
“Impressive, no?” The doctor was completely in his element, wearing a long, white jacket, pink glasses and black gloves. His voice was sly, though somewhat hoarse. He circled the younger man, studying him with intense, shining eyes. “And to what do I owe this honour, detective? I wouldn’t expect someone of your stature to seek me out…” He broke off for a moment, giggling like a child. “Lei Wulong.”
 
The Chinese detective regretted his visit more by the minute, but he couldn’t leave without telling Abel what he had come here for. He tugged absentmindedly on the sleeve of his white shirt, finally prying his eyes from the many machines that crowded the room. “I need your help.”
 
This seemed to delight the scientist; he stopped right in front of the other man, put his hands behind his back and smiled in what might have been a charming manner if he had not been what anyone would recognise as a mad scientist, “What could I possibly do for you, young one?”
 
Lei wondered how old the man had to be to be able to call him that, but he didn’t ask. Instead he cleared his throat, trying to hide his hesitation, “I need you to take out one of your creations.”
 
Abel was intrigued; he bent forward, one inquisitive eyebrow climbing up on his forehead, and said slowly and with pressure, “Which one of them?”
 
“Bryan Fury,” Lei whispered, looking away quickly from the other man’s prying eyes.
 
When it became clear that no further explanation was forthcoming, Dr. Abel began to walk away slowly, without turning to see if Lei was following, “So you are in a spot of trouble with Fury, are you? Well, I can certainly understand why you’d want to get out of that.”
 
Lei followed him almost against his will, not at all keen on venturing further into the laboratory. He rubbed his left arm in a feeble imitation of regaining some heat, even though the chill lay mostly on the inside. “So, you’ll help me?” He said, almost daring to hope.
 
The doctor stopped, turned and said, “No.”
 
The detective stopped as well, surprised, “But…you created him! If it is money you want I am sure I can pay you.”
 
Abel laughed, and his voice rose in volume and authority, “I’m financed by the Mishima Zaibatsu, boy! I don’t need your money, oh, no,” and then he slipped back to the low, confiding tone that seemed destined to return to its original, crazed laughter, “but I cannot undo what I did to Fury; he is too strong now, thanks to my colleague, Dr. Boskonovitch.” The name was uttered with a tone of contempt and a sour grimace that made the already wrinkled face resemble a prune, before his features were lit up by amusement again, “Learn to live with him, boy, because you will never find the champion that can defeat him.”
 
Lei looked devastated. “Then…there is no way?”
 
Dr. Abel smiled slyly. “No.”
 
The Chinese didn’t know what to say. Distraught and confused, he shook the scientist’s hand loosely and walked back to the elevator. He left the building without looking back or registering his surroundings, overwhelmed by the wall he had just hit. The street was crossed in a daze; he barely looked around to avoid the cars, and in this state Lei was completely unprepared when he was grabbed and yanked around the corner of the nearest building. For the second time today he hit a wall, only this was a much more literal one. “I didn’t know there was a party at the Mishima Zaibatsu. Why wasn’t I invited?”
 
“Fury! I…” Lei raked his brain, but couldn’t come up with a single excuse for being here. Not even a bad one!
 
The pale American was furious, hard hands pressing Lei’s back against the wall and chilling, blue eyes boring accusingly into him, “What the hell were you doing in there? Answer me!!” He wore black gloves, army pants and boots along with a hooded jacket, but the heat of the day didn’t seem to be getting to him.
 
Suddenly the wheels began to turn again and Lei blurted out everything that popped up without thinking twice. “I’m investigating Mishima because we think he is involved in weapon smuggling. I was talking to some employees of his that have ties to known weapon dealers.”
 
For a moment it looked like the cyborg was buying the story; he pulled back a little with a contemptuous sneer, but then there was a flash of steel and suddenly Lei had a knife against his throat. Bryan’s voice was soft and dangerous, his lips almost touching Lei’s ear, “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you Wulong?”
 
Lei closed his eyes and leaned as far away from the blade as he could, though all it did was bare his throat for easier access. “No, Fury, of course not.” His voice seemed a little sullen; as he filled it with all the childlike innocence he could muster.
 
A wet tongue traced the line between skin and metal, making the Chinese shudder. The American was so warm. “Which Mishima were you investigating, did you say?” Fury inquired innocently.
 
“Huh?” Lei looked at him in dazed confusion. “Oh! Uh…K-Kazuya.” And that was all wrong because the building he had just exited belonged to Heihachi Mishima. Fear made him deadly cold on the inside to rival the heat lingering on his skin.
 
The American grinned cruelly. “It’s wonderful to see you try so hard yet fail so spectacularly.” Then the smile faded. “You’re a terrible liar, Wulong.”
 
But he couldn’t tell him the truth; if Fury found out how Lei had spent the past week searching desperately for a way to destroy him… “I’m not lying! I was just investigating!” The Chinese forced himself to look straight at the other man while speaking.
 
The cyborg sneered. He withdrew again only to punch Lei so hard he lost his balance and landed roughly on the concrete. The detective groaned and rolled over, tentatively tonguing the split in his lower lip. It tasted metallic.
 
Fury came towards him. “Poor baby took a tumble. Let me kiss it better.”
 
Lei scrambled up in a sitting position, wincing at the pain it caused his bruised skull, and backed away, but he couldn’t make himself run for it; they were in a narrow, empty alley between a broad, crowded main street and the labyrinth-like, inhabited area that the tourists always got lost in, and Fury stood between him and the way out. A tall fence of iron mesh rose just behind Lei’s back, and even though the Chinese knew he could scale it, he couldn’t do so fast enough to escape. Trapped, the Chinese sought to reason with the other man, “Bryan, what if someone sees us? I’m telling you…I wasn’t doing anything wrong!”
 
Fury continued his advance, pretending not to have heard him at all. “I can’t decide if you’re being feisty or just dumb, since you still haven’t learned your lesson.” When he came close enough he kicked Lei’s legs apart and went down on one knee between them, grabbing Lei by the front of his shirt and pulling him forward until they were nose to nose. He was grinning in satisfaction, “You know I can make you tell me the truth...”
 
Memories of darkness, bondage and the kind of pain that soaked the mind in terror and wracked your nerves. Bolts of lightning as flesh parted for the questing edge of a knife. Dirty words written in blood on his body. Lei shook his head. He felt sick to the stomach at the prospect of one more night like that. “I didn’t...” So hard to form words around a tight, dry throat. He swallowed several times and still the words refused to come.
 
Fury cut off any further attempts smoothly by bending down and biting his throat hard. Lei arched up with a cry of pain, clenching his eyes shut and fisting his hands in the American’s thick, sea-green jacket. Goosebumps rose all over his body when a wet tongue licked the offended skin. There would be bruising. The American blew on the spot, cooling it further, and then he pulled back, letting go of Lei so that he fell to the pavement again. “Too bad I don’t have time to play with you tonight.” The Chinese sighed in relief. “However…” A hand reached down and opened the top button on Lei’s white shirt, “It would be cruel of me to neglect my pet.” Another button. The detective had to swallow again, agitated and, although he cursed himself for it, excited by the simple motion. He was breathing just a little bit faster.
 
Lei tried to turn over as the last button came loose, to hide the way his nipples had perked up in the rush of cold air that washed over his skin, but Fury grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back around. Leather-covered fingers rubbed the sensitive buds and made Lei twist. He bit down on his knuckles to keep from moaning, but when a hot mouth replaced the hands his responding gasp was quite audible. 
 
Fury didn’t leave his hands idle, though; without wasting any time he unbuckled Lei’s belt and unzipped his pants. The Chinese was about to protest the inconvenience of the location, but as if he could read his mind, the other man bit down on the pink nub, erasing the intended words with another cry of pain.
 
Lei’s breath caught in his throat when Fury yanked down his boxers and wrapped a leather-gloved, sun-warm hand around his glistening erection. With the other, the American pulled Lei’s pants further down so he could cup his balls as well, rolling them in his palm. He remained unrelenting even when the other man tried to push him away. Lei’s cock was throbbing, and every stroke made him arch a little, moan a little. Smooth upstroke, tight downstroke, over and over again, and quivering heat and need were building up inside him.
 
Then two fingers travelled even further down and pressed against the bud between his cheeks, demanding entrance, and that volatile mouth refastened itself, gentler this time, to his neck.
 
“Bry~an-!” If Hong Kong’s entire population of clowns had been standing in the mouth of the alley at that moment, Lei wouldn’t have noticed. He had his eyes shut tight, back arched in a sharp bow and hands clenched helplessly in Fury’s jacket.
 
The American intensified his stimulation of Lei’s cock, while the two fingers forced their way past the spasming ring of muscle. The black haired man cried out and drove his hips against him, finding a rhythm and using it to bring himself to new heights.
 
“I’m c-oming!”
 
Fury took the broken exclamation as his cue, added a third finger without warning, pumped the throbbing erection in his hand with short, tight movements and bit down to make yet another bruise on the pale neck offered to him. Lei almost screamed as the world fell away in the white light of orgasm.
 
‘*’
 
“Did you tell him?”
 
Dr. Abel turned away from the window, through which he had watched Fury haul Lei into the alley below, to look curiously at his employer, sitting comfortably behind the desk in his office. The room’s interior resembled an old dojo, despite its location on the tenth floor of the Mishima Zaibatsu’s headquarter in Japan.
 
When the silence dragged on, Heihachi elaborated, “Did you tell the detective about the accident?”
 
The scientist adjusted his glasses, glancing back out of the window as if hoping the two out there would show themselves again. He was distracted. “Accident? I told him I couldn’t help.”
 
Heihachi frowned, still wanton for a proper answer, “He thinks he’s dealing with a machine! When will he be told about Fury’s heart?” There was a stack of papers to his left, awaiting his attention, but the CEO was bored with paperwork and was trying to drag some entertainment out of his old employee. A scandal would have been great right now, and what a scandal it would be if the truth about the infamous mass murderer came out.
 
Dr. Abel smiled warmly, “Poor Lei Wulong knows perfectly well what he’s dealing with. Deep down, he’s already realised that no machine is capable of Fury’s passion. No doubt he has lain awake many a night, contemplating that steady heartbeat.”
 
The other man raised an eyebrow, “And still he is trying to destroy him?”
 
The scientist turned back towards the window. “You enquire about the human heart, Mishima-san, which is far from my area of expertise.”
 
‘*’
 
Lei wiped blood and spit from his lips with the back of his hand. Fury had left while the Chinese was still on the ground, coping with the shock of orgasm. The bastard had been so satisfied with himself. Fucking smug grin painted all over his face. Like he’d won or something!
 
The detective checked his clothes and hair one more time before exiting the alley and crossing the street again. He was tired of looking over his shoulder wherever he went, tired of waking up in the middle of the night for all and any little noise, tired of lying about bruises and scars. Dr. Abel had been a dead end, but he wasn’t the only mad scientist Lei knew of. Perhaps the other one would be more willing to help. Someone had to be willing to help him! Now that he was looking to end it. Considering the favour he was doing the world, he shouldn’t be feeling this way. Guilty.
 
The black haired man descended down the stairs into the Japanese subway, and let himself be herded along by the crowd. He just had to find Yoshimitsu…

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Amila

February 2014

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