#havihan

[krypion]

I died in your arms tonight

I slipped through into the afterlife, it was nice

[behindthesoul]

Itching In My Heart (smut)

Havik x Bi-Han

Summary: Havik does his best to find an ally in Bi-Han in his search for chaos. Bi-Han does his best to not be easily swayed by temptation.

Word Count: 2,557

Warnings: Bottom!Bi-Han, top!Havik, handjobs, anal fingering, spit as lube, no anal penetration, slight overstimulation, not proofread, slightly AU-ish? this is kind of my own canon because I didn’t feel like rewatching Khaos Reigns to make sure the plot was “lore accurate”

A/N: Wrote this for a good friend of mine, it took some time for me to get this done because I’m not super used to writing less popular ships. I am happy with how this turned out, though! May or may not be a part two depending on reader interest. Comments appreciated!

—

A harsh wind blows through the desolate peaks of the Lin Kuei temple, alerting the world to find comfort indoors. The Lin Kuei’s Grandmaster remains awake, standing at the edge of the temple’s courtyard, his eyes narrow at the swirling storm clouds overhead. His breath frosts in the air, mirroring the ice that clings to his soul. No longer held back by the restraints of his family, Bi-Han begins to relish in the thought of finally shaping the Lin Kuei to his vision.

But a new force begins to rise, and it takes a new form – one that defines a sense of order, a form that Bi-Han simply cannot ignore.

“You seek freedom,” came a raspy voice, a voice that would no doubt harm the throat if it were spoken by an average person. It echoes through the courtyard, a twisting sound that seems to emanate from nowhere and everywhere at once.

Bi-Han’s muscles tense. His hands instinctively forming fists, a frost slowly creeping over them. He turns, icy eyes attempting to fixate on the figure emerging from the shadows. A gaunt, disheveled man. A mutilated face. A pair of cloudy, slightly opaque eyes. A presence that taints the surrounding air.

“Havik,” Bi-Han mutters, his voice cold, yet holds a hint of curiosity. He had heard whispers of the Titan, a madman who cared not for order and peace. His motives were always shrouded in chaos, and yet here he stood before the Lin Kuei Grandmaster.

Havik grins – well, attempts to grin – and his eyes gleam with a manic light. “You know me, Sub-Zero. And I know you. You seek power… freedom. The order you serve, the realm you protect – it’s a lie, a cage.”

Bi-Han’s gaze flickers with momentary doubt, though it’s quickly masked with his usual stoicism. “The Lin Kuei serve no one, we protect ourselves.”

A low, gravelly chuckle escapes Havik’s lips. “Is that so? Yet I see chains, invisible to the eye but no less real. You’re bound to the realm, to the destiny laid before you. But I can offer you something different… something pure.”

Bi-Han’s eyes remain fixed on the…thing before him, yet his thoughts churn beneath the surface. Power, respect, what he seeks – ultimate control over his fate, over the Lin Kuei, over those who dare disrespect him. But Havik’s words stir something in him, a strange allure in the promise of something so unknown to him.

“You speak in riddles,” Bi-Han says, his tone dismissive. “If you seek my aid in your madness, you’ll find I am not so easily swayed.”

Havik takes a step closer, his head tilted, his heart racing. “Not madness – truth. Order is the true insanity, the belief that anything in this universe can be controlled. Chaos is the natural state of things, the only true power.”

A gust of cold wind swirls around them, but Havik stands unfazed by the chill, as though it barely touched him. He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Imagine a world without rules, without being reduced to Earthrealm’s lapdog. A world where the strong truly prevail. You are already close to breaking free, Sub-Zero. Let me show you the final step.”

Bi-Han’s exterior cracks for a moment as he considers Havik’s words. He thinks back to past events – cursing Liu Kang, his brothers defecting from the Lin Kuei – ties that had been severed because they held him back, bound him to a code he no longer believed in. The chaos that Havik spoke of – a world without restraint, without rules – appealed to him more than he cared to admit.

And yet…

“You think I would follow you into this insanity?” Bi-Han’s voice was a low growl, not wanting to give in just yet.

Havik’s grin only widens, his hands slightly trembling with perverse delight. “Not follow, Bi-Han. Lead. Chaos is not about subjugation or surrender. It’s about liberation. You have the power to forge your path through the frozen wastes of this universe. Together, we can unshackle the realms themselves.”

Bi-Han’s eyes flicker to the ground, a move uncommon by someone of his status. He doesn’t respond immediately, but silence speaks volumes.

Havik lets out another low chuckle, knowing the seed he’s planted is already beginning to grow.

“Think about it, Grandmaster,” Havik purrs. “Earthrealm, laid bare. No Liu Kang to write destiny for you. Instead, the pen rests in your hands.”

And in that moment, Bi-Han’s mind churns with possibilities – the thought of forging his own path is something he couldn’t resist.

He doesn’t say yes.

But he doesn’t say no, either.

Bi-Han eyes dart left, then right, then back to Havik. Having someone like him out in the open where anyone can see? Not a very good look. He motions with his hand for the man to follow him before quickly walking out of the courtyard. The interior of the Lin Kuei palace is a sight Bi-Han is all too familiar with, yet his heart beats faster with every breath he takes. Havik’s thick scent floats through the air, contaminating anything in his path. Bi-Han refuses to turn his head and look back at Havik, instead focusing on the footsteps behind him. They’re heavy, a sharp sound that rattles the ground. Each footfall is disorganized, the lack of rhythm directly contrasting Bi-Han’s light, poise steps. Bi-Han mentally curses, hoping no one is alarmed by such a noise. He swears that he can feel Havik’s breath warming his neck, but the footsteps say that Havik is keeping his distance.

It isn’t long before Bi-Han reaches the destination: his bedroom, the most private place one could be. One hand twists the doorknob, while the other quickly grabs Havik’s wrist and forces him inside the room, eliciting a loud, annoying cackle. Bi-Han steps inside and quickly locks the door, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His room is dimly lit, a soft light from a candle immediately illuminating his face. Frost crawls up the stone walls like an ever-present reminder of Bi-Han’s power, chilling the air between them. Havik barely seems to notice, his vacant eyes focused solely on the Grandmaster standing across the room, his posture a mask of practiced calm.

Bi-Han clears his throat, breaking his silence. “Your proposal. Elaborate.”

Havik stands taller, excited to still have grasped Bi-Han’s curiosity. “Tell me, Bi-Han,” he begins – the sudden use of his given name not going unnoticed by the Grandmaster. “Do you know what it is like to be free? Truly free? Or have you always been bound by the Lin Kuei’s false honor?”

Bi-Han crosses his arms, staring Havik down with an annoyed glare. “Honor is a choice, Havik. Not a shackle. I invite you to choose your words carefully when you speak of the clan I lead.”

Havik laughs, low and guttural, his voice like gravel against stone. “Perhaps, but I wonder how much of that is a true choice, and how much are you clinging to what you’ve been taught – to your chains.”

A slight frown flashes across Bi-Han’s face, though he quickly composes himself. The way Havik speaks so casually, so provocative, as if the core of his being could be so easily dissected. Yet..he couldn’t ignore the possibility of a slight truth in Havik’s words. He keeps his eyes on Havik, hesitant to look anywhere else.

“What exactly do you want from me, Havik?”

Havik steps closer, an amused hum leaving his throat. His fingers trail lightly over a frost coated desk beside him, his gaze looking down to meet Bi-Han’s. “I want you to see chaos as I do,” he murmurs, tone surprisingly softer, yet still layered with its typical intensity. “Imagine a world without boundaries. Without restraint. Just power…and desire.”

Bi-Han suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. “You’d think me so foolish to throw away everything I have built for some hollow promise of freedom? I have my own path, one that doesn’t require your madness.”

Havik’s face is blank, showing a lack of reaction to Bi-Han’s words. “Not madness, truth!” He corrects again. “Is there not a part of you that longs to let go of control? To let chaos in, even for a moment?”

The Grandmaster’s jaw clenches, wanting to deny Havik further, but something in the man’s gaze – a dark, pervertish desire – holds him in place. Havik’s cold, rotting, fingers make their way to Bi-Han’s arm, a slight touch, but enough to imprint the feel on Bi-Han’s mind forever.

“You do not have to be alone in this world, Bi-Han,” Havik starts, “there is power in chaos, yes, but there is also the comfort found in…connection.”

Bi-Han’s heart begins to increase in pace, though his face remains impassive. Havik’s gaze is still unflinching, his corpse-like eyes aiding him in hiding emotion. His fingers trace a line up Bi-Han’s arm until they reach his shoulder, then his collarbone.

“Is that your true wish, Havik?” Bi-Han’s voice is low, almost a whisper. “Connection?”

A silence stretches between them, the weight of the conversation thickening the air. Bi-Han considers stepping back, letting the previous, familiar distance reassert itself. But he doesn’t move.

Havik’s hand finally slides up to cup the side of Bi-Han’s face. “It is what you want, too. Let me show you what true freedom feels like.”

And then, before Bi-Han could respond, Havik leans in, gently pressing their heads together. The moment ends as quickly as it began, and Havik grabs Bi-Han’s hand, leading him to his bed. He pushes Bi-Han into the mattress with too much force to be considered gentle, but soft enough to be out of Havik’s norm. Bi-Han allows him to remove his clothing piece by piece, until nothing's left for the imagination. Bi-Han thinks back to intimate moments with past partners, usually the pace is slowed with kisses that express longing for one another. But with another quick glance at Havik – it’s obvious to see why this experience cannot be compared to others.

Havik begins to take off his own garments. Starting with his helmet, chest piece, then loincloth, carelessly throwing them across the room. He climbs on top of Bi-Han, hunger growing through him. His hands reach to touch Bi-Han, but he is interrupted before he gets the chance.

“You will speak a word of this to no one,” Bi-Han threatens, “do not make me regret speaking to you.”

Bi-Han expects a booming cackle, a snarky comment, maybe an eye roll – anything he’s learned to expect from Havik. But he gets a simple nod in response. Havik’s more focused on the nude form in front of him. He allows his hands to map out Bi-Han’s pale skin. They outline his chest, drawing a circle around a small mole above his nipples. Havik leans down, indulging himself in the taste of Bi-Han’s skin. His rough, almost cat-like tongue dances around the mole, before dragging down to Bi-Han’s nipple. Bi-Han’s back slightly arches at the sudden contact, and hisses as Havik invites his other hand to stimulate Bi-Han’s chest in tandem with his tongue. Bi-Han can feel himself becoming lightheaded once his dick begins to harden. He raises his hand to touch Havik’s dick, and he’s quickly rewarded with a groan and tug to his nipple. Bi-Han slowly moves his hand and familiarizes himself with Havik’s length, his breath hitches as he feels its girth. His mind drifts to the thought of it slowly stretching him out, knocking the air out of him with each thrust.

Bi-Han tries to lose himself in the feeling of Havik in his hand, but his partner has other plans. A frustrated huff leaves Havik as he suddenly loses interest in teasing Bi-Han’s chest, suddenly turning his attention to Bi-Han’s cock, perhaps grabbing it with a bit too much force, as a sound mixed with bliss and annoyance escapes Bi-Han’s throat.

“Finally,” ire laces Havik’s tone, “I want to hear you.”

Havik temporarily removes his hand to spit on his palm, then returns it to Bi-Han. His hand drags up and down Bi-Han’s dick, relishing in how Bi-Han’s brows furrow. Havik experiments with different speeds and pressures, desperate to find the correct combination to make Bi-Han’s head spin. Another blissed groan is how Havik knows he’s succeeded. By now Bi-Han has given up on returning the pleasure to Havik – not that the latter even cares. His cheeks are flushed, and his legs feel weak. He tries to level his breathing, but Havik’s hand working his body forces each sigh to come out shaky. Bi-Han’s fingers find purchase in the bedsheets below him. His strong grip almost steadying him as he melts into the sensation.

Bi-Han grunts and tenses as he suddenly realizes the existence of a spit covered finger dancing around his entrance. Feeling Havik’s eyes on him, Bi-Han tries to relax his body, giving a silent ‘go ahead.’ Havik takes the chance to push a finger inside Bi-Han, sighing as he feels the muscles tighten around him. Bi-Han feels his eyes roll to the back of his head, the dual sensations of Havik’s hand on his dick and inside him makes his body feel wobbly and weak. Not a single Lin Kuei would recognize their Grandmaster in this state: pupils blown, face red, slightly trembling. Bi-Han loses his last bit of control when a soft moan breaks out in response to Havik pushing in another finger. Bi-Han only wishes to tell Havik to fuck off when he hears the man cackle, but another moan leaves his throat before he can do so. Bi-Han slightly hisses in discomfort, wishing he had proper lubricant. He makes a mental note to be more well prepared for future encounters.

A sudden pressure is soon felt deep in Bi-Han’s abdomen, his eye twitching as he realizes what it is. His face scrunches up as the feeling grows, soon becoming unbearable. He reaches down to tap Havik’s hand – a warning. And with another, much louder moan, Bi-Han cums all over Havik’s hand and his own stomach. He pants, trying to find respite after such a huge feeling, but finds it difficult as Havik refuses to slow his pace. Bi-Han sharply exhales as sensitivity boils over, squirming as Havik’s fingers curl inside of him. He hisses right before the feeling has a chance to become uncomfortable, and smacks Havik’s hand.

Havik slowly removes his hands from Bi-Han, and gives the Grandmaster a positive, almost curious look – one that is not shared by Bi-Han.

“I do not wish to continue,” comes Bi-Han’s weak voice. He cringes at the thought of Havik inside of him without any form of lubricant, knowing even attempting to do so would put him out of commission for a day or so.

Havik doesn’t fight the request, instead getting off the bed in search of something to clean up with. He returns with a cloth, using it to wipe cum and sweat off Bi-Han’s body. The material is familiar, and Bi-Han promptly smacks Havik’s arm upon realizing his own clothing is being used as a towel.

Tossing the garment aside after finishing his task, Havik once again places his forehead against Bi-Han’s, content with how the night has played out.

“Rest, Bi-Han,” is all he says as he shifts himself to sit on the edge of the bed. “Tomorrow, we will discuss my plans in further detail.”

“And where will you be whilst I rest?”

“I will still be here.”