Title: Hit By A Car, Healed By A Touch
Summary: To Jensen the only thing that mattered was his Kendo, so wouldn't know a star of another martial art if he hit him with his car…and he just did. Now Jensen is being kidnapped by Taras -the arrogant jackass who ran him over- for his recovery?
Warnings: None, really. Humour mostly. A few swear words here and there.
Claimer: Jensen belongs to FUDDYxDUDDY, while I own the other characters and story line. Please do not use without permission.
AN: Well, this is for FUDDYxDUDDY who drew a cute piece of art of Ethan from "Mate of the Werewolf".
Well, this was meant to be a oneshot, but somehow evolved into more, like, six chapters to be precise. –sigh- I just can't win. I've actually finished this story, though, just a few tweaks here and there. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading!
Jensen was known as the weird kid, even in a town filled with weird people all practicing some form of martial art. And that was saying quite a bit.
He was anti-social toward people he didn't know and it was hard to get to known him beyond his anti-socialness. He didn't like being touched, he talked with a slight British accent even though he's American, hated anyone touching his hair and don't you even dare make fun of his glasses (call him the daggy insult of Four-Eyes and prepare to have a katana at your throat). He also had a bit of a wild temper, coupled with the fact that he could wield a katana with twice as much skill anyone three times his age only added to his better-avoid persona.
But he had some good qualities, too! He had messy black hair that touched his shoulders, his bangs covering one side of his face, but not in such a way that it was a hindrance, and it granted him the tag of being 'cute'. And, he, ah, well...he was feisty?
In all seriousness, though, he was not that introverted. He just didn't know how to deal with attention from others. People would come to watch the martial tournaments he entered and he was easily embarrassed, often throwing him off his game. He was actually quite shy, although he would deny it to the death (his or yours, either one). He was the top kendo student in the entire city and was well respected by the sword.
And while he was intelligent in bookish means and cherished his belief of the Kendo, he didn't have much knowledge of other forms of martial art. So, all he cared about was Kendo.
So, it was just hard to get past his anti-social behaviour.
Still, there was one person whom he had some amount of trust and respect for. His name was Kagen, a martial artist who specialised in the art of Bando Thaing, otherwise known as "Way of Self-Protection." And he was damn good at it, despite being rather scrawny for his age and shorter than most (though, he was taller than Jensen by a few inches…). He had to be the most respected person in the city, and he was only 18.
He was also ungodly rich. He didn't flaunt that fact, but sometimes Jensen would get annoyed at him as he always seemed to pull something expensive out of his ass. Like, one time Jensen was late for a tournament and Kagen gave him a lift...in a freaking helicopter! He owned a couple, actually, which he nonchalantly told him one day.
He also supposedly lived with several other martial artists, all of them boarding at his home as they moved here by themselves or have no other means to gain shelter. Jensen lived alone, his parents overseas making the big bucks to keep him in a one-bedroom apartment and in school. So, he found it hard imaging what it would be like to live with others, all of who practice some form of art themselves. He could, however, imagine how any arguments are settled.
It's rumoured that Kagen owns a dojo. Must be handy.
Jensen is pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a car horn blaring at him. He snapped his head up and realised that he was stepping out onto the road on his journey home and didn't look where he was going. He had taken this path many times before, so it was simply routine. So much so that his mind wandered, and he inadvertently stepped out in front of a car.
Upon hearing the horn, his instincts kicked in and he jumped backwards, but unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough and an intense, white hot pain shot up his leg left leg, making him see nothing but white for a moment. And he fell onto his back, his bag, his katana and his shinai (his practicing sword) falling from his grip.
Through the haze of pain, Jensen realised that he was hit by the car he had tried to avoid and the car had stopped. The driver's side door suddenly flung open and a guy jumped out. And was he tall! He had to be six foot, at least. He wasn't that muscular, but he certainly wasn't lacking in that department. He had crimson red hair that was messy, yet stylishly so and bright blue eyes.
If he wasn't in the great amount of pain from his leg, he would have noted that he was kinda handsome and, well, hot. But he was in pain, so such thoughts were pushed way back and thoughts of 'Holy fucking shit, that hurts!' took reign.
Clutching his leg and grimacing in pain, Jensen was kinda expecting the guy to ask him if he was alright and he already had a defensive and sarcastic retort perched on the tip of his tongue. However, the guy ran passed him and looked at the front of the green coloured car, his hand flying up to tug at his hair in a show of shock.
"You stupid fool!" The guy said as he suddenly turned on him and pointed at the front of his car with a direct wave of his arm. "You broke the headlight!"
Sarcastic retort gone, Jensen openly gaped at the guy, unsure if he heard right. Soon, however, he bristled wildly, momentarily forgetting about the pain. "To hell with your car!" he yelled back. "What about me?"
"Like I care about you!" His retort was sharp and harsh, before he ran his hands through his hair again, looking on the verge of panicking. "Oh, man. When Bialy finds out I damaged his car…"
Honestly, Jensen couldn't give a shit about the car and this guy was a total jackass! And, dammit, why did he have to have crimson coloured hair? That was his favourite colour! Crimson was supposed to be cool, no matter what. But this guy…this guy…
"What were you trying to do?" Jensen asked the redhead. "Kill me?"
"Look, just shut up, Brat," he hissed at him, glaring at him with his blue eyes.
Jensen twitched, and it wasn't from the pain. He was getting pretty pissed off now. His katana…just out of reach…
"My name is Jensen, not brat or stupid fool!"
"I'll call you whatever the hell I want!"
Suddenly, the exchanged between them halted when a shrill sound of a phone ringing cut through the air. The guy blinked before plunging his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a mobile phone, flipping it open with a flick of his wrist and not even bothering with some kind of greeting.
"I'm busy!" He yelled into the phone as he began pacing up and down the footpath, seeming totally uncaring that Jensen was there, in pain because of him. "There's this kid here. I think he's name is Jensen or something ridiculous like that."
"Jensen?" A voice was heard from the phone, and Jensen found it familiar. "Does he have black hair, brown eyes and wears glasses?"
Jensen blinked and so did the guy, stunned by the sudden description. But Jensen found himself blinking again when the guy suddenly crouched down in front of him, pushing him way into his personal space to get a good look at him. Jensen winced and then settled to glaring at him in such a way that left no doubt that if he could just get a hold of his katana, he would slaughter him.
"Er, yeah," The guy muttered, still staring. "He also has a glare that said if he could get a hold of his katana he would slaughter me."
…Christ, was his glare that potent?
Finally, the guy stood up and focused his attention on his phone again. "How did you know?"
"I know him," the familiar voice cut through. "What is he doing?"
Somewhat subdued, the guy turned back to Jensen, eyeing him warily. "At the moment? He's writhing in pain."
Was it a surprise?
There was a simple "What?" from the phone.
"Well, there was an accident and…" the guy started to say, but trailed off, scratching his cheek idly with one finger.
"Stop babbling," the voice from the phone was sharp and strict. "Is he badly hurt?"
Again, the guy crouched down to get a good look at Jensen, who was surprisingly subdued as well, trying to pinpoint why that voice was so familiar and how he seemed to know him.
"I think he has a few scratches and bruises," the guy answered with an all too casual air to him. Had he done something like this before? "Nothing serious."
"Right, bring him back here."
"What?" The guy sounded as surprised as Jensen was when he heard those words. "Why?"
There was an exasperated sigh. "He's hurt and I know him, that's what and why," the voice on the phone stated. "Now bring him here. And be careful with him. Don't agitate his wounds, ok?"
"What am I?" the redhead retorted with an air of sarcasm. "A delivery boy?"
And it was quickly countered with a retort far more sharper and wittier. "You'll be a homeless one if you don't do what you're told."
The guy seemed unable to reply to that and simply pouted, knowing when he had lost. "Yeah, yeah," he said as he snapped the phone shut.
Then, he turned on Jensen once again. They stared at each other, Jensen silent from the sharp pain in his leg. The guy broke eye contact by turning toward his car and opening the passenger side door. Was this guy seriously expecting him to get up and climb into his car after he just tried to run him down?
Jensen watched him warily. "What are you doing?"
"Just shut up and get in."
Like hell he was going to play the happy little hostage or ransom. "You already ran me over in your car! What do you want now?"
The guy ran a hand through his crimson red hair again, looking annoyed and frustrated. "Look, I'm only following orders."
"Yeah?" Jensen scoffed, lifting his chin in a show of defiance. "You're trying to kidnap me?"
The guy snorted. "Oh, please…"
They, once again, stared each other down, and Jensen had to admit that he had a pretty intimidating glare to go with his tall stature and broad shoulders. However, he wasn't going to show any weakness, no matter how much the pain in his legs was becoming. Oh, it wasn't a sharp pain as it was when he was first hit, but a dull, deep ache that made him lethargic.
Jensen let out a yelp when the guy suddenly leaned down, scooped his effortlessly into his arms and hoisted him high into the air as if he weighed next to nothing.
Jensen immediately began to struggle, trying to wiggle his way out of his captor's arms, trying to gouge his eyes with his fingers. "Let go!"
But the infuriating redhead managed to dodge his struggles and carried him over to the car. "Quit squirming or I'll throw you in the boot!"
That only made Jensen struggle harder.