[TEKKEN] Valentine's Ficletts
I've been trying to get my mojo back. Starting a new job and trying to wrap my head around my new responsibilities (while introducing even more work responsibilities) hasn't been easy, but I've been managing.
I decided to open up one of the many files in my hiatus folder and found a Tekken Valentines writing prompt list that I'd started I don't know how many Valentines' days ago. I decided to try finishing it.
The following is the result.
These are not completely edited to my satisfaction, but I'll get to that at a later date. I wanted to get these posted for today, so... enjoy!
01
Love
02
Comfort
03
Pleasure
04
Sensuality
05
Passion
06
First Meeting
07
Touch
08
Taste
09
Confession
10
Heart
11
Eyes
12
Serenade
13
Delicate
14
Kiss
15
Moonlight
16
X
Part 2 here
Love
Kazuya frowned and turned the card over again in his hand. The sparkles caught even the smallest fragments of light filtering through the large windows of his office and the cutesy hearts crowded the front of the card; each a varied shade of red, from pink down to a deep crimson. It was unsigned, though Kazuya caught a whiff of his brother’s aftershave as he flipped it closed.
That one person would be so stupid as to invite him in like this.
“Lee…” he hummed under his breath, vocalizing the name and feeling something within him tighten - resentment, perhaps. Lee wasn’t cursed with Mishima blood, but he kept coming back for more. The card mocked him, buying into a stupid holiday for a stupid emotion. Kazuya did not love Lee. His younger sibling was brash, arrogant, irritating, and completely clueless when it came to the supernatural terrors that plagued his family.
Comfort
Lee rested back into his silk sheets and stretched his legs out as far as he could until his toes poked from under the top sheet. Without opening his eyes he guessed it was still before twelve, but well after eight. The morning birds no-longer sang outside his window, but the scent of his brother still clung to the pillow by his head. The Silver Devil smiled and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow and inhaling deeply. From somewhere outside his bedroom, he could hear someone moving about in his kitchen, perhaps making a late breakfast.
Lee sighed and did a quick mental assessment; bed still warm, nothing hurt, nice smells, breakfast coming, and thoroughly fucked with the possibility of a second round after breakfast. He stretched again and dozed in the warmth that surrounded him, daydreaming about nothing in particular.
Pleasure
Lee Chaolan never denied himself pleasure when he wanted it. He had enough money to buy whatever carnal desires gripped him from one moment to the next; even the more exotic pursuits that took weeks to fulfill. Not all of them were sexual, but he’d learned to enjoy pleasure when it was available. He’d known hardship and he’d promised himself he would enjoy pleasure when he could, and as often as possible.
Sensuality
A single candle sits in the middle of the table, its flame low and even, warming the room with a low, moody light. The hint of cinnamon wafts upward and Lee Chaolan closes his eyes. The busy thoughts of business and his fucked-up family relations flare in his mind and then fall away. Years of meditation has helped the adopted Mishima to balance his emotions against his turbulent life, letting go of troubling memories or resentment.
He frowns and breathes out. The last emotion is always the most difficult to release, hinging on his brother and their unique relationship. Oh, years of therapy and counselling pecked away at his bank account until he discovered meditation and living in the present.
He opens his eyes and focuses on the single candle flame. It eats away at that emotion, devouring any feelings he has for his brother and it is all he can see.
Passion
The sun hadn’t even begun to tease the horizon when he pushed his sheets aside and his feet touched the warm marble floor of his bedroom. Not bothering with clothes, he opened the double doors leading to his private garden. Privacy walls rose along the sides, hiding his naked body from prying eyes as he crossed the patio stones to a large, sandy section reserved for training.
Lee trained in his private beach garden in the early hours of the morning, the waves crashing in rhythmic tandem to his kicks and movements as he strengthened his fighting style. When the business day started, he was all business, but his true passion - borne out of necessity and then nurtured by his adoptive father - was his love of fighting. He moved like a dancer; light on his feet and powerful with his blows, tangling with his opponents in a struggle to lead their fighting dance. Adrenaline made his limbs feel light as air and he bit back the giddy excitement when he caught his opponents and launched them into the air, keeping them aloft with well-timed kicks.
The sand felt cool and virginal beneath his feet and he scrunched his toes into the soft ground as he caught his breath. The sun broke the horizon and painted his skin in warm, caramel tones, heating his blood for the battles of the day, fought in business meetings and power lunches. If not for his brother, he’d have no reason to fight, or follow his true passion.
He supposed he owed Kazuya that much.
First Meeting
The house was big. That’s all the boy thought when he was first brought inside. He could feel the cold marble of the foyer on his bare feet and he sharply looked around. Years on the street made him cautious of ambushes - gangs hiding around corners, waiting to rob him and beat him bloody - and a short plane ride to Japan wouldn’t strip him of his cautious nature. Even when the strange old man had offered him a warm bed and food, he was cautious. Men had offered him a warm bed before, though he’d learned how that offer masked an unspoken agreement that resulted in pain and a little money. Still, this old man seemed different. The boy had looked him over, considering his strange accent and the way he’d worded his offer, though, what had caught his attention was the unfamiliar aura that burned around him. The old man smelled like someone who commanded power, not like those desperate and pathetic men who radiated fear and lust.
He’d accepted the offer, but made a show of thinking about it.
In the big house the boy brushed his hair from his eyes, the action disguising his true intent as he watched the old man walk further into the house. He listened to the heavy footsteps grow fainter and, in the first time he’d been alone since leaving the slums, he quickly looked about. Everything was immaculate and rich; the sort of house he’d seen pictures of in magazines. Still, his sharp eyes picked out some hiding spots he was sure the old man couldn’t get to, and he even spied some art pieces he could use as weapons. If he was truly desperate he knew he could escape and find his way to the streets. It would be impossible for him to make it back to his familiar alleyways and abandoned buildings, but homeless was homeless no matter what part of the country he was in. He knew he could escape and survive if the warm bed he’d been promised came with that painful catch.
The old man reappeared moments later with another boy in tow, stopping across the foyer with a gaping space between them. The boy watched the newcomer, quickly taking in his appearance in a glance; he wore his black hair short and his white pants hung down to the ground where his bare feet peeked from the hemline. He was shirtless and looked well-muscled for someone about his own age. He silently looked back to the old man, waiting for an explanation.
There was no explanation and the old man simply shoved the newcomer forward, yelling something in another language and spurring the new boy to ready his fists and charge into battle.
The boy’s adrenaline kicked in and he raised his fists, too, side-stepping the newcomer with ease, like he did with the gangs that would corner him. The newcomer tripped and crashed into the door behind him and the boy spun around, skipping back into the centre of the foyer to put some distance between them while keeping a close eye on the old man. Another command in that language had the new boy on his feet and charging once more. This time, however, the boy was ready and caught him around the middle. His feet skidded across the floor with the force until the momentum died and he began swinging.
He struck hard and fast, hitting at the newcomer’s sides while he took some blows on his back. He kicked the dark-haired boy in the knee, sending him flying to the ground, giving him a chance to back up and look at the old man again before focusing once more on his opponent.
The newcomer groaned, pushing himself up from the floor, but a word from the old man stopped his next attack.
“Your skill is raw, but strong,” the old man said again, his words broken through his thick accent. His stern expression twisted into a wicked smile and he folded his arms over his chest. “You are now my son and training partner for your new brother.” He gestured to the boy who was rubbing his knee and regarding him with a dark light in his eyes.
The boy didn’t let any of his emotions show on his face as the words sank in and he tried to understand what the old man meant. “What do you mean?”
“From now on you will speak Japanese. No more questions in your birth tongue,” was the only response. “Go with my son. He will show you your new room.” And with that, the old man turned and walked out.
The boy didn’t understand a thing the dark-haired boy said to him, but he knew enough to follow as he was led down a hallway and up a flight of stairs. The house was well decorated, but felt cold and the boy could feel it as he took in the wealth these people had. It was the same unfeeling cold of the alleyways and dumpsters; the kind that keep you alert and on guard. He wondered if his situation truly had improved. At least things were cleaner.
The dark-haired boy stopped to open a door and turned to face him, speaking more words in that strange, hard language. The old man had said something about his new room, was this it? He stepped closer, getting a better look through the open doorway. After years of sleeping behind dumpsters he smiled and looked at the other boy, his new brother. There was a dark look in his eyes that betrayed the untapped anger coiling inside. Anger and... something else. He didn’t recognize it, but years later the boy would look back and understand the relief his new sibling felt; relief that he would not be alone under their father’s fist.
“Thanks,” he said, stepping into the dark room. He turned back and bowed slightly. “I-I’m Lee Chaolan,” he said, touching his chest, hoping he understood.
The boy’s shoulders relaxed and he bowed slightly as well. Locking eyes with Lee he placed his hand over his heart and said one name: Kazuya.
Serenade
Lee was a terrible singer, but he loved irritating Kazuya, so it all balanced out. He’d been practicing all week, balancing his school and training with his super-secret preparations and now, he is crouching in the bushes just outside Kazuya’s bedroom.
His heart is beating hard and fast in his chest and he grips the CD player in a determined grip. He can’t back down now! The night is young, but the moon is shining, just as Lee had calculated. A full moon only comes around so many times a year, and he is too horny and impatient to wait another month for this opportunity!
Pulling some foil-wrapped chocolate hearts from his pocket, Lee hucks one at Kazuya’s window, feeling a surge of victory as it bounces off the glass with a loud ‘tink’. He waits a second before throwing a second and third. The fourth sails through the open window and Lee dives for cover when his brother comes out, all scowl and irritation.
“What the hell?” he asks, picking up one of the hearts and looking at it. “Lee?”
That’s his cue and the silver devil pushes the button on his CD player. He’d agonized over what song to play, going so far as to burn a mix of all the songs he couldn’t decide on. His first pick rocks through the speakers and he calls the lyrics to mind as he sings into his microphone. “No New Years day... to celebrate... No chocolate-covered candy to give away...”
“Chaolan!” Kazuya bellows from his window, leaning on the frame as he stares down with a threatening glare.
Lee steps from the bushes, continuing to sing as his brother looms down at him. “I just called... to say... how much I love you. And I mean it from the bottom of my heart!”
“What are you doing?”
Lee laughs and changes to the next song. One of them will be a winner, and he has so many to choose from. “Another day is gone... I’m still all alone... How could this be? That you’re not here with me?”
“What are you doing, Lee?” Kazuya still doesn’t look pleased and he’s pulling at his tie in the way he always does when he’s ready for a fight. “Stop that!”
The next track is an Elvis classic that Lee is certain will win his brother over, but Kazuya disappears from the window to promises of kicking his ass. Lee’s heart is beating wildly with giddy glee and he rushes to the player for the next track and then hides.
Kazuya storms out into the garden, violently pulling at the bushes he’s brother had been hiding in as a plucky and rhythmic guitar solo starts off the next song. The tune is unmistakable as Lee’s voice comes through the speakers, “Every breath you take... Every move you make... Every bond you break, every step you take, I’ll be watching you.”
“Lee!” Kazuya kicks the bush and storms off to find his brother, but the garden is large and it’s not so easy.
Lee tries to keep from laughing as he clings to tree branches and sings into his microphone, watching his brother tear around the garden and storm over their father’s rose garden. “Heihachi won’t like that!” he admonishes, abandoning his serenading duties for a second. “Every move you maa~ke, and every vow you break... every smile you fake, every claim you stake... I’ll be watching-hey!”
Kazuya’s grip is strong on his leg, pulling down with all his weight until Lee falls out of the tree and lands on him. “You’ll pay for humiliating me, Chaolan!”
“Oh, Kazuya, you can’t take a joke! Who is around to see?” Lee picks himself up and extends his arms, indicating the empty garden around them.
Kazuya hesitates and frowns. “I-I was studying! You know how father is-”
“Oh, I know how father is,” Lee purrs, smiling seductively as he steps closer. “And I know how you are... how we are.”
“That was a mistake,” Kazuya huffs and folds his arms over his chest.
Lee is genuinely hurt. “Was it?” he asks. His feet don’t want to move forward and he halts where he stands. “You were the one who-”
“Yeah... well... you’re not too serious, Chaolan, making fun of me like this,” he gestures to the microphone still clutched in his brother’s hand. “I know how you are with your dates, anyways. Aren’t I just another fling?”
Lee’s mouth opens and closes like a dying fish. He feels his shoulders sag as he’s deflated. This isn’t going the way he’d hoped. He watches helplessly as Kazuya waits for an answer before turning away from him.
The song ends and it seems like it’s all over. What had started off as teasing fun is going to leave Lee crying into a bottle of stolen beer unless... there is a pause and the next track starts playing through the speakers. A light piano begins and Lee’s heart jumps when he realizes what song it is. He straightens his shoulders and lifts the microphone to his mouth, skipping around to block Kazuya’s retreat. “Look into my eyes... and you will see... what... you mean... to me...”
Kazuya stops and rolls his eyes. He looks plainly at his brother; waiting for him to crack a smile.
Lee grips the microphone and continues, and tries his damndest to feel the lyrics. His emotions seep into his words, killing the joking air he’d started with as he locks eyes with Kazuya and it becomes real. Memories of their first kiss - the mistake - play in his mind and give flavour to the words. In the background, Bryan Adams’ love ballad blares through the CD player, while Lee drops to one knee, unable to look away as he declares that, everything he does, he does it for Kazuya.
He’s still on one knee when the song ends and the spell is broken. Kazuya is before him, unreadable, head tilted down and nearly frowning. Lee feels the flush of embarrassment colour his cheeks as he realizes what he’s done and he stumbles to his feet. The microphone drops to the ground and he quickly pushes past Kazuya, unable to look him in the eyes and realizing just what he’s done. He wonders how long he can hide in his room before Heihachi punishes him for avoiding school and his duties. He wants to die when Kazuya grabs his arm and stops him from leaving.
“Let me go, Kazuya,” he nearly whispers. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” Kazuya forces him to turn and looks him in the eye. “Don’t mock me. If you mean it, then mean it.” He pulls Lee towards him, tilting his head and crushing their mouths together.
Lee struggles at first, using his strength to push away, but Kazuya is stronger, and Lee doesn’t really want to resist.
Note: I had no idea about songs that are suitable for serenading. I don't think Lee did, either, at this point in his life, so he and I thank you, Google! Bonus points if you can identify the songs (you 90s-kid, you!)
My favourite is First Meeting, followed by Serenade. Lol, I just like stuff where I can play with it and have more fun. Anyways, I want to come back and edit these and clean them up (make them read more smoothly). Please forgive any inconsistencies or errors.
I decided to open up one of the many files in my hiatus folder and found a Tekken Valentines writing prompt list that I'd started I don't know how many Valentines' days ago. I decided to try finishing it.
The following is the result.
These are not completely edited to my satisfaction, but I'll get to that at a later date. I wanted to get these posted for today, so... enjoy!
01
Love
02
Comfort
03
Pleasure
04
Sensuality
05
Passion
06
First Meeting
07
Touch
08
Taste
09
Confession
10
Heart
11
Eyes
12
Serenade
13
Delicate
14
Kiss
15
Moonlight
16
X
Part 2 here
Love
Kazuya frowned and turned the card over again in his hand. The sparkles caught even the smallest fragments of light filtering through the large windows of his office and the cutesy hearts crowded the front of the card; each a varied shade of red, from pink down to a deep crimson. It was unsigned, though Kazuya caught a whiff of his brother’s aftershave as he flipped it closed.
That one person would be so stupid as to invite him in like this.
“Lee…” he hummed under his breath, vocalizing the name and feeling something within him tighten - resentment, perhaps. Lee wasn’t cursed with Mishima blood, but he kept coming back for more. The card mocked him, buying into a stupid holiday for a stupid emotion. Kazuya did not love Lee. His younger sibling was brash, arrogant, irritating, and completely clueless when it came to the supernatural terrors that plagued his family.
Comfort
Lee rested back into his silk sheets and stretched his legs out as far as he could until his toes poked from under the top sheet. Without opening his eyes he guessed it was still before twelve, but well after eight. The morning birds no-longer sang outside his window, but the scent of his brother still clung to the pillow by his head. The Silver Devil smiled and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow and inhaling deeply. From somewhere outside his bedroom, he could hear someone moving about in his kitchen, perhaps making a late breakfast.
Lee sighed and did a quick mental assessment; bed still warm, nothing hurt, nice smells, breakfast coming, and thoroughly fucked with the possibility of a second round after breakfast. He stretched again and dozed in the warmth that surrounded him, daydreaming about nothing in particular.
Pleasure
Lee Chaolan never denied himself pleasure when he wanted it. He had enough money to buy whatever carnal desires gripped him from one moment to the next; even the more exotic pursuits that took weeks to fulfill. Not all of them were sexual, but he’d learned to enjoy pleasure when it was available. He’d known hardship and he’d promised himself he would enjoy pleasure when he could, and as often as possible.
Sensuality
A single candle sits in the middle of the table, its flame low and even, warming the room with a low, moody light. The hint of cinnamon wafts upward and Lee Chaolan closes his eyes. The busy thoughts of business and his fucked-up family relations flare in his mind and then fall away. Years of meditation has helped the adopted Mishima to balance his emotions against his turbulent life, letting go of troubling memories or resentment.
He frowns and breathes out. The last emotion is always the most difficult to release, hinging on his brother and their unique relationship. Oh, years of therapy and counselling pecked away at his bank account until he discovered meditation and living in the present.
He opens his eyes and focuses on the single candle flame. It eats away at that emotion, devouring any feelings he has for his brother and it is all he can see.
Passion
The sun hadn’t even begun to tease the horizon when he pushed his sheets aside and his feet touched the warm marble floor of his bedroom. Not bothering with clothes, he opened the double doors leading to his private garden. Privacy walls rose along the sides, hiding his naked body from prying eyes as he crossed the patio stones to a large, sandy section reserved for training.
Lee trained in his private beach garden in the early hours of the morning, the waves crashing in rhythmic tandem to his kicks and movements as he strengthened his fighting style. When the business day started, he was all business, but his true passion - borne out of necessity and then nurtured by his adoptive father - was his love of fighting. He moved like a dancer; light on his feet and powerful with his blows, tangling with his opponents in a struggle to lead their fighting dance. Adrenaline made his limbs feel light as air and he bit back the giddy excitement when he caught his opponents and launched them into the air, keeping them aloft with well-timed kicks.
The sand felt cool and virginal beneath his feet and he scrunched his toes into the soft ground as he caught his breath. The sun broke the horizon and painted his skin in warm, caramel tones, heating his blood for the battles of the day, fought in business meetings and power lunches. If not for his brother, he’d have no reason to fight, or follow his true passion.
He supposed he owed Kazuya that much.
First Meeting
The house was big. That’s all the boy thought when he was first brought inside. He could feel the cold marble of the foyer on his bare feet and he sharply looked around. Years on the street made him cautious of ambushes - gangs hiding around corners, waiting to rob him and beat him bloody - and a short plane ride to Japan wouldn’t strip him of his cautious nature. Even when the strange old man had offered him a warm bed and food, he was cautious. Men had offered him a warm bed before, though he’d learned how that offer masked an unspoken agreement that resulted in pain and a little money. Still, this old man seemed different. The boy had looked him over, considering his strange accent and the way he’d worded his offer, though, what had caught his attention was the unfamiliar aura that burned around him. The old man smelled like someone who commanded power, not like those desperate and pathetic men who radiated fear and lust.
He’d accepted the offer, but made a show of thinking about it.
In the big house the boy brushed his hair from his eyes, the action disguising his true intent as he watched the old man walk further into the house. He listened to the heavy footsteps grow fainter and, in the first time he’d been alone since leaving the slums, he quickly looked about. Everything was immaculate and rich; the sort of house he’d seen pictures of in magazines. Still, his sharp eyes picked out some hiding spots he was sure the old man couldn’t get to, and he even spied some art pieces he could use as weapons. If he was truly desperate he knew he could escape and find his way to the streets. It would be impossible for him to make it back to his familiar alleyways and abandoned buildings, but homeless was homeless no matter what part of the country he was in. He knew he could escape and survive if the warm bed he’d been promised came with that painful catch.
The old man reappeared moments later with another boy in tow, stopping across the foyer with a gaping space between them. The boy watched the newcomer, quickly taking in his appearance in a glance; he wore his black hair short and his white pants hung down to the ground where his bare feet peeked from the hemline. He was shirtless and looked well-muscled for someone about his own age. He silently looked back to the old man, waiting for an explanation.
There was no explanation and the old man simply shoved the newcomer forward, yelling something in another language and spurring the new boy to ready his fists and charge into battle.
The boy’s adrenaline kicked in and he raised his fists, too, side-stepping the newcomer with ease, like he did with the gangs that would corner him. The newcomer tripped and crashed into the door behind him and the boy spun around, skipping back into the centre of the foyer to put some distance between them while keeping a close eye on the old man. Another command in that language had the new boy on his feet and charging once more. This time, however, the boy was ready and caught him around the middle. His feet skidded across the floor with the force until the momentum died and he began swinging.
He struck hard and fast, hitting at the newcomer’s sides while he took some blows on his back. He kicked the dark-haired boy in the knee, sending him flying to the ground, giving him a chance to back up and look at the old man again before focusing once more on his opponent.
The newcomer groaned, pushing himself up from the floor, but a word from the old man stopped his next attack.
“Your skill is raw, but strong,” the old man said again, his words broken through his thick accent. His stern expression twisted into a wicked smile and he folded his arms over his chest. “You are now my son and training partner for your new brother.” He gestured to the boy who was rubbing his knee and regarding him with a dark light in his eyes.
The boy didn’t let any of his emotions show on his face as the words sank in and he tried to understand what the old man meant. “What do you mean?”
“From now on you will speak Japanese. No more questions in your birth tongue,” was the only response. “Go with my son. He will show you your new room.” And with that, the old man turned and walked out.
The boy didn’t understand a thing the dark-haired boy said to him, but he knew enough to follow as he was led down a hallway and up a flight of stairs. The house was well decorated, but felt cold and the boy could feel it as he took in the wealth these people had. It was the same unfeeling cold of the alleyways and dumpsters; the kind that keep you alert and on guard. He wondered if his situation truly had improved. At least things were cleaner.
The dark-haired boy stopped to open a door and turned to face him, speaking more words in that strange, hard language. The old man had said something about his new room, was this it? He stepped closer, getting a better look through the open doorway. After years of sleeping behind dumpsters he smiled and looked at the other boy, his new brother. There was a dark look in his eyes that betrayed the untapped anger coiling inside. Anger and... something else. He didn’t recognize it, but years later the boy would look back and understand the relief his new sibling felt; relief that he would not be alone under their father’s fist.
“Thanks,” he said, stepping into the dark room. He turned back and bowed slightly. “I-I’m Lee Chaolan,” he said, touching his chest, hoping he understood.
The boy’s shoulders relaxed and he bowed slightly as well. Locking eyes with Lee he placed his hand over his heart and said one name: Kazuya.
Serenade
Lee was a terrible singer, but he loved irritating Kazuya, so it all balanced out. He’d been practicing all week, balancing his school and training with his super-secret preparations and now, he is crouching in the bushes just outside Kazuya’s bedroom.
His heart is beating hard and fast in his chest and he grips the CD player in a determined grip. He can’t back down now! The night is young, but the moon is shining, just as Lee had calculated. A full moon only comes around so many times a year, and he is too horny and impatient to wait another month for this opportunity!
Pulling some foil-wrapped chocolate hearts from his pocket, Lee hucks one at Kazuya’s window, feeling a surge of victory as it bounces off the glass with a loud ‘tink’. He waits a second before throwing a second and third. The fourth sails through the open window and Lee dives for cover when his brother comes out, all scowl and irritation.
“What the hell?” he asks, picking up one of the hearts and looking at it. “Lee?”
That’s his cue and the silver devil pushes the button on his CD player. He’d agonized over what song to play, going so far as to burn a mix of all the songs he couldn’t decide on. His first pick rocks through the speakers and he calls the lyrics to mind as he sings into his microphone. “No New Years day... to celebrate... No chocolate-covered candy to give away...”
“Chaolan!” Kazuya bellows from his window, leaning on the frame as he stares down with a threatening glare.
Lee steps from the bushes, continuing to sing as his brother looms down at him. “I just called... to say... how much I love you. And I mean it from the bottom of my heart!”
“What are you doing?”
Lee laughs and changes to the next song. One of them will be a winner, and he has so many to choose from. “Another day is gone... I’m still all alone... How could this be? That you’re not here with me?”
“What are you doing, Lee?” Kazuya still doesn’t look pleased and he’s pulling at his tie in the way he always does when he’s ready for a fight. “Stop that!”
The next track is an Elvis classic that Lee is certain will win his brother over, but Kazuya disappears from the window to promises of kicking his ass. Lee’s heart is beating wildly with giddy glee and he rushes to the player for the next track and then hides.
Kazuya storms out into the garden, violently pulling at the bushes he’s brother had been hiding in as a plucky and rhythmic guitar solo starts off the next song. The tune is unmistakable as Lee’s voice comes through the speakers, “Every breath you take... Every move you make... Every bond you break, every step you take, I’ll be watching you.”
“Lee!” Kazuya kicks the bush and storms off to find his brother, but the garden is large and it’s not so easy.
Lee tries to keep from laughing as he clings to tree branches and sings into his microphone, watching his brother tear around the garden and storm over their father’s rose garden. “Heihachi won’t like that!” he admonishes, abandoning his serenading duties for a second. “Every move you maa~ke, and every vow you break... every smile you fake, every claim you stake... I’ll be watching-hey!”
Kazuya’s grip is strong on his leg, pulling down with all his weight until Lee falls out of the tree and lands on him. “You’ll pay for humiliating me, Chaolan!”
“Oh, Kazuya, you can’t take a joke! Who is around to see?” Lee picks himself up and extends his arms, indicating the empty garden around them.
Kazuya hesitates and frowns. “I-I was studying! You know how father is-”
“Oh, I know how father is,” Lee purrs, smiling seductively as he steps closer. “And I know how you are... how we are.”
“That was a mistake,” Kazuya huffs and folds his arms over his chest.
Lee is genuinely hurt. “Was it?” he asks. His feet don’t want to move forward and he halts where he stands. “You were the one who-”
“Yeah... well... you’re not too serious, Chaolan, making fun of me like this,” he gestures to the microphone still clutched in his brother’s hand. “I know how you are with your dates, anyways. Aren’t I just another fling?”
Lee’s mouth opens and closes like a dying fish. He feels his shoulders sag as he’s deflated. This isn’t going the way he’d hoped. He watches helplessly as Kazuya waits for an answer before turning away from him.
The song ends and it seems like it’s all over. What had started off as teasing fun is going to leave Lee crying into a bottle of stolen beer unless... there is a pause and the next track starts playing through the speakers. A light piano begins and Lee’s heart jumps when he realizes what song it is. He straightens his shoulders and lifts the microphone to his mouth, skipping around to block Kazuya’s retreat. “Look into my eyes... and you will see... what... you mean... to me...”
Kazuya stops and rolls his eyes. He looks plainly at his brother; waiting for him to crack a smile.
Lee grips the microphone and continues, and tries his damndest to feel the lyrics. His emotions seep into his words, killing the joking air he’d started with as he locks eyes with Kazuya and it becomes real. Memories of their first kiss - the mistake - play in his mind and give flavour to the words. In the background, Bryan Adams’ love ballad blares through the CD player, while Lee drops to one knee, unable to look away as he declares that, everything he does, he does it for Kazuya.
He’s still on one knee when the song ends and the spell is broken. Kazuya is before him, unreadable, head tilted down and nearly frowning. Lee feels the flush of embarrassment colour his cheeks as he realizes what he’s done and he stumbles to his feet. The microphone drops to the ground and he quickly pushes past Kazuya, unable to look him in the eyes and realizing just what he’s done. He wonders how long he can hide in his room before Heihachi punishes him for avoiding school and his duties. He wants to die when Kazuya grabs his arm and stops him from leaving.
“Let me go, Kazuya,” he nearly whispers. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” Kazuya forces him to turn and looks him in the eye. “Don’t mock me. If you mean it, then mean it.” He pulls Lee towards him, tilting his head and crushing their mouths together.
Lee struggles at first, using his strength to push away, but Kazuya is stronger, and Lee doesn’t really want to resist.
Note: I had no idea about songs that are suitable for serenading. I don't think Lee did, either, at this point in his life, so he and I thank you, Google! Bonus points if you can identify the songs (you 90s-kid, you!)
My favourite is First Meeting, followed by Serenade. Lol, I just like stuff where I can play with it and have more fun. Anyways, I want to come back and edit these and clean them up (make them read more smoothly). Please forgive any inconsistencies or errors.