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[It's been interesting have Hei living in the Beach House. Interesting, and a little exhausting. Going from three times a month to nothing to several times every day is kind of a big change. If she thinks too hard about it, she gets a little jealous of the people he must have spent that extra sexual energy on before.

She deliberately refrains from thinking too hard about it. Why ruin something so nice? And exhausting as it is, Korra has no desire to stop or slow things down. In fact, her first thought upon waking up and seeing his eyes were still closed was I wonder if I should blow him.]

[ He's in a motionless sleep because it's been a long, long day. His routine often starts at 6 am, making breakfast, then heading for the cafe, then stopping by on breaks to spend time with Pai, or fetching X or Y groceries, or fixing X or Y equipment, before returning to work. Evenings are spent entirely in the Underground, patrolling or meeting contacts in the smoky bars and taverns. Even so, life is monotonous in a way that he doesn't quite mind. When he isn't buzzing around Pai or Yin, or getting into trouble Underground, he and Korra have carved out a refuge in the space of their ordinary lives, uninterrupted hours where they shirk everything else and settle into each other. ]

[ For the inside of the past week, it's like they've barely gotten out of bed. Or, more accurate to state, barely taken their hands off each other -- he's had her in every room of the Beach House while Pai was out, on practically every piece of furniture, in a grassy ditch full of wildflowers by the side of some unpaved road, propped against an alleyway wall between two buildings, sprawled on the hood of some dusty car in a dim parking-lot, even on the table on the veranda where he usually works, and anyone might walk in on them. ]

[ He probably hasn't had so much sex since the days he was with Amber, which in itself is both amusing and disquieting. Because, just like in Heaven's War, part of him understands this is raw and insane and temporary and ultimately will mean no more than anything that comes before it, because there's no such thing as permanence in the City. Because this is not his or Korra's real life. But the fierce fucking quels his appetites, which are real enough and even heightened by the swamp of hormones churning between them. And if he can't expend his reserves of energy on assignments anymore, and if hours at punching the bag or vaulting the pommel horse do nothing, it's as good a workout as is available to him here. Fuck knows, there is plenty of pressure to be let off. ]

[ Today finds him dozing in Korra's bed, curled up on his side with a half-finished book, face-down and spread open beside him, spine cracked. A rosy slice of sunlight streaks in through the windows as the day slowly begins. It paints the outline of his face, a smudge of eyelashes and faint creases on his forehead and a flat line of closed mouth, in sharp, sharp red. ]

[ He stirs, only a little, but not enough to truly wake. ]

[He really isn't fair. Sleeping like this, he... doesn't look peaceful, exactly, but something about him tugs are her heartstrings. These moments make her feel like the bad times are worth it. Nothing is perfect after all, and everything is about balancing the good and the bad. The sex is freaking amazing; it balances out a lot. (For her right now, at least.) So does waking up and having him still be there (which isn't something that happens every night, even after moving in, but it's happening more than it did before). Korra sleeps better with someone warm and alive beside her. Bonus, the ridiculous amounts of sex have tired her out so much she doesn't tend to dream. She's been waking up feeling more well-rested than she has in years.

She reaches out a hand and traces the scars on his chest, her fingers barely touching his skin. She's learned what a bad idea it is to take him by surprise, but she also doesn't want to wake him up completely. Not immediately, anyway. The soft touch is just to remind his subconscious that she's here and she's not a threat to him; then she scoots closer and kisses his clavicle while her hand slowly makes its way down to his morning erection. (She'll never admit how much she likes it when he wakes her up with sex. She doesn't like being passive, but there's something alluring and a little addictive about being in that state of limbo, where you're awake enough to feel and react, but your body & mind are still heavy enough with sleep that everything feels surreal and dreamy. She wonders if he'll feel the same.)]

[ It's true. If startled the wrong way, he can be savage. Transitioning from stillness to violence in an eyeblink. ]

[ Even here, it's a fleeting twitch, running across his hand, feeding a faint curl in his fingers, there and gone again. But there's no explosive movement, because she's given him plenty of warning -- the soft brush of her fingers, the dip of the mattress. So Hei stays asleep, his breathing deep and undisturbed. It isn't always like that. Most nights, a peaceful sleep is an impossibility. He tosses and turns, but it stays out of reach, a mirage floating beyond his fingertips. Other nights, he's leaden and exhausted, but deliberately wide-awake. Doesn't want to sleep. Afraid of what dreams will come this time -- jerking him back to reality, goose-fleshed and frantic. ]

[ But today, well-fed, well-fucked, it's a syrupy ascent into consciousness. Korra's warm hand circles his erection, and he dreams a strange dream. Trapped in a red and burning room, unfamiliar yet not. Around him, enemies crumble and fall, their shrieks filling his burning ears. Before him, a ghostly shape. Two bright eyes dance and wink in the gloom. Familiar eyes, but not belonging to the people dying all around him -- they are here and not here, unaffected by the inferno. Something about them is feminine. They flirt, twinkling; when he snatches at the blurry figure, it fades and reappears. No voice, no words, but the eyes seem to whisper a welcome. ]

[ He thinks of Amber, but he knows her golden gaze, and these aren't hers. They give off a different vibe -- not coy and playful, but burningly direct. He's never seen them before. He says, Who are you? There is no answer, yet he knows, he'll see them again. Somewhere. ]

[ In reality, the only telltale signs of his fading dream are a ragged inhalation, a stirring to Korra's touch. ]

[She strokes him slowly, varying the pressure she uses while she trails little kisses across his chest. She doesn't want to push too hard and risk waking him faster; it's already shocking that he hasn't come to and tried to take over. She likes being able to see him like this.

After a moment, she starts making her way down, curious to see if she'll make it all the way before he comes to.]

[ Hei exhales through his nose, short and shivery. The sensations of reality seep into his warping dreams. Images flash behind his heavy eyelids, except they're scents, tastes, touches too. New scenery: a greying twilight, with purple and blues, under boughs of trees. Somewhere in South America, the fireflies like ghostly thumbprints, the fruit bats chittering and mosquitos buzzing. He's de-shelled with someone under a milky veil of bug netting. The scent of greenery is almost overwhelmingly strong -- mixed up with the soft funky scent of girlflesh, taste of salt and sea. Hair tangled in his face, in the dark and light, its color indistinct. Amber? Korra? Maybe Yin? It's hard to tell. He can't see the girl's face, but her mouth is plump and sweet, the eyes dreamy and half-lidded. ]

[ With heavy hands, he reaches for her. His fingers tangle in something cold instead. Wispy strands mesh around his fingers, slipping through them like cornsilk. Tentacles? Vines? He isn't sure. He wishes it were brighter, so he could see the girl's face, see what his arms are trapped in. It's bothersome that he can't. Then the temperature and mood shifts, going ominous. He begins to be afraid. Tries to nudge the girl off, escape those slippery threads. But they're everywhere now, gluing him in place. Keeping him immobile as a fly in a web. There are hands on his skin, burrowing into it. Such cold fingers. Spreading chills, plucking at his fear, plucking at his flesh. ]

[ He tics and twitches against Korra, sighing and murmuring. Nothing audible, but it's clear he's coming awake. ]

[Her lips hover just above his erection now, her breath hot and wet against him. She glances up to see whether he's awake yet -- he's twitching, but his eyes are still closed. She never thought she'd get this far. It's exciting.

She licks her lips and then starts kissing him, starting from the base and working her way back up to the tip. Every touch light and teasing.]

[ Hei exhales a low noise. Rough and quiet and breathy, it dies out in hiccups through the first series of Korra's kisses. Starting awake, he shudders, pushing the dream aside. But it takes a moment to detach from it; his whole body is still lit up with the eeriness and disorienting pleasure of it, cock hard and thrumming against his belly. He can still feel those mysterious vines pressing in all around him, that faceless girl's hair in his eyes, blotting out the light. It isn't the first time he's awakened into the illusion that he's still in South America, with its humidity and mosquito bites and stifling greenery and that acrid taste of adrenaline in the back of his throat. A trick of memory he'd like to erase. ]

[ But the pleasure -- sweet, heady, hungry-making -- doesn't dissipate. The very pores of his skin feel redolent with it. Blinking, the sunlight through the gaps in the curtains making red-pink lines on the walls, he half-sits up. ]

[ Oh. ]

[ It's just Korra. Relief floods through him. For a moment he is positively dizzy on it. Hei smiles, genuine even if it's only a small quirk to his mouth. His right hand slips down to cradle the back of her skull, fingers carding through her hair. ]

Someone's in a good mood.

Mmph. [Half-pleasure, half-disappointment. She sucks briefly on the head before letting it pop out of her mouth so she can smile at him.]

I never thought I'd ever wake up before you. I had to take advantage of the opportunity. [Long, lazy strokes with her hand as she speaks. And then she crawls up his body because he's awake now and awake means kisses. Chests crushed together, his erection burning between their stomaches, she grips his shoulders tight and presses her lips to his. Her body thrums with cheerful energy.]

I don't have work today. [You know, in case you wanted to do anything. Like even more ridiculous amounts of sex.]

[ There's a shiver, tailed by a spike of disappointment, when she takes his erection into the melting heat of her mouth, only to let it pop free. But Hei's sleepiness still drips in on him at the edges. It's part of what makes his responses so logy and easygoing. Sex is something he can get for the asking anywhere, but the freedom to be this relaxed is what matters more to him. He can let himself be this way. Not because it's safe (nothing ever is), but because it's not dangerous, with Korra. No need to log exit routes; to skate his gaze across the room for threats; to count the myriad of ways he can kill her, with his body or with the pillows or sheets or lamps. ]

[ That, in itself, is a novelty. ]

[ When she leans in to kiss him, something in his stomach lurches. Strange, how she's even prettier in the day. All nude and tousled -- skin a toasted brown as if in some ad for equatorial exotica, unruly hair the color of dark honey, glittering golden at the edges in the sunlight. The eyes are clear blue and white, astonishing against the dark skin, the teeth bright when she smiles at him. Such a friendly smile. Almost enchantingly childlike. He leans into her warm pooched mouth with only a moment's hesitation, stretching out against her, curling one leg over hers. Kisses tasty despite that staleness of sleep -- slow and languid. ]

[ When he draws back, his amusement shows more in the crinkled edges of his eyes than his mouth. ] Doesn't mean I'll let you stay idle. [ Because you know how much he disapproves of wasted time. ]

[No time's wasted if you're having fun. She draws his bottom lip between her teeth and then nibbles her way down his chin.]

What do you plan on doing to me?

[She's itchy for something and she doesn't know what. Something other than a straight pounding, or even the long mind-blowing teases he's so good at. She wants to try something new.]

[ Gathering her in, Hei settles deeper into the mattress, her body across his, her hair tangled across both their faces. Sunlights filters from the window and plays over her outline. A vein of red fire snaking through everything. She says, What do you plan on doing to me? and his mind, no longer fuzzy-edged, stretches toward the dissolute themes of the morning with flickering antennae. Sketching scenarios. Mapping out routes. His rough-tipped fingers reach out to barely trace the shape of her mouth. It's true; he's never the most tactile person, but there are ways to brand some memories into your cerebrum faster than others. Touch is best. Then, scent and taste. (Like the floral faded shampoo hiding behind her nape; the starchy laundered smell of the sheets and that marine undercurrent of sex; the warm rub of her skin and the warmer breath tickling his face.) ]

[ Underneath the covers, his foot brushes lightly against hers, toe nudging against the ticklish sole in a way that's more contemplative than playful. ]

Besides keeping you in bed until noon? [ Dryly, ] I'm open to suggestions.

[ Although he has a few ideas of his own. ]

[Her foot squirms and knocks against his, resisting the ticklish assault while she rests her chin on his chest.]

What's something we haven't done yet? [She almost asks What did you do with your other women? but she's feeling too good right now to give jealousy and insecurity an open invitation like that. The look she gives him is puppyish and playful.]

Lots of things.

[ It's quiet, but matter-of-fact all the same. If he could read her mind, he'd tell her the other women are not who she should be obsessing over. It's still so strange. All they should have wanted from each other was sex. Korra's clubfooted inability to vault over the cultural --(multiverse?) -- barrier and Hei's typically shifty fear of deep waters should have rendered the relationship harmless, especially compared to his flings with other Contractors or humans, all of whom wanted much, much more from him than mere sex, and tried different (unsuccessful) ways of retaliating at him for not surrendering it. He is used to feeling his psyche under scrutiny from all angles; civilians intent on disclosing his tragedies and secrets, on leashing him into the kennel of commitments, snap him back to aloofness if he lets his guard drop momentarily; fellow professionals do the same, while also taking note of weak-points and access routes, or that extra centimeter of scar-tissue on his back, those dark shadows under his eyes, that tense exchange he'd had behind closed doors. ]

[ Any relationship pokes around for the vein in his mind and heart, trying to find a way in so it can fuck him up -- infusion, exfusion, transfusion. No one can resist the urge to tamper. Korra isn't interested in that. She just seems to want to spend time with him -- for no reason but Because. After the sex, she just wants to fall asleep next to him, or on top of him. Nothing could be simpler. (Except it isn't.) ]

[ He leans in, his lips a moist butterfly press against hers. ] But I'm guessing this isn't an invitation for me to tie you down. [ Don't huff, Korra. He's teasing. ]

[She'll huff if she wants to, sir, and roll her eyes on top of that.]

I seriously don't get your obsession. [She reaches out and pokes his chin.] You can tie me up the day I can tie you up. [A day she is 5,000% sure will never come.]

Suppose I let you?

[ It's an arch kind of exhale. He looks up at her through the dip of his lashes, circling a thumb over the small of her back before fanning out his hand, dipping lower. Bringing her closer until he can feel that quiet thub of her pulse, the dark mess of her hair rubbing splendidly across his skin. Intellectually, he can understand her hesitation. Korra's hinkiness stems from past trauma. In the same way, Hei's own refusal to let go of control is rooted in living in a world and circumstances that, to outsiders, were institutionalized bondage. With one pivotal difference: none of it was consensual. And for someone who's experienced that kind of disparity and coercion, without their consent, being placed in any position of vulnerability is like a disorienting dose of PTSD. ]

[ Still, there's a dark amusement at Korra's, and indeed most people's, unwillingness to acknowledge the interplay of choice and coercion that goes on, on an almost constant basis, in practically every area. Normal people don't want to call what they do to each other in the everyday world power-play, and no one is cuffed and gagged or wielding a fucking riding crop. But, for all intents and purposes, the dynamics are acted out in courtrooms, boardrooms, schools, prisons. Everywhere. ]

[ At least, in the space Hei prefers, you're honest enough to admit what is going on. And, because you are honest, you have a measure of control over who does what to you. ]

Seriously?

[Wow. Okay. What? There's no way. He's joking. Korra stares at him, utterly gobsmacked that he'd even joke about the possibility... and uncertain what she would do if he was serious. She honestly has no interest in tying him down; that's not the kind of power play she gets off on. She wants to break his control, not take it away. She wants to fight and win, to be handed a challenge and overcome it. She wouldn't know what to do with him if he was tied down. At the same time, she feels like she might say yes just out of curiosity.

It's a moot point, of course, because there's no way he's serious.]

[ Her face looks as close and as far as the moon underwater at that moment. It has that same shimmering, shifting quality, without ever quite seeming to move: a tremulous shudder of emotion just under the surface. For someone like Hei, it's easy to read. Opacity is an irresistible challenge, as the phrase goes -- and he understands that's what Korra is stimulated by. It's how she was raised. Only an entitled narcissist is interested in easy pickings -- no chase, no finesse, just the final catch. But what she doesn't understand is that control isn't quite as black and white as she believes it to be. Even when they're fucking -- when he's holding the reigns, seemingly in-control -- it's her satisfaction he's aiming for, as much as his own. ]

[ When it comes to physicality, power is an ephemeral thing. ]

[ He doesn't know how to explain that to Korra. Instead he threads his fingers through her hair, mussing it lazily as sunlight filters hemoglobin red between its tangled waves. ]

You wouldn't know what to do, if it happened.

[ It's not Yes and it's not No. It's simply a gentle statement of fact. ]

[She sticks her tongue out at him, because he's right.]

So come on. Other than the one thing we've established several times I have no interest in doing, what haven't we done yet?

[ He catches the pink point of her tongue between gentle teeth -- a playful bite that melts into a quiet, lingering kiss. When he draws back, the smile on his face is faint -- It always is, with Korra, not wholly open but it's getting there by degrees, and isn't that what matters? Circling both arms around her, he rolls until she's on her back, and he's settled between her thighs, and it's a testament to all the freakishly extensive physical training of his past that the whole move is a lot more graceful than it should be. ]

Like I said. Lots of things.

[ He'll get to them in a minute. Or several. Right now he's more interested in erasing the extra space between them. His body is a solid heat as he makes himself heavy over her, arms bracketing her on either side. Leaning in, he mouths softly at the corner of her lips before coaxing them open, his tongue gliding in and re-learning all those secret places inside her mouth. It starts out as almost a perfunctory thing, but diverges from there. He takes what he's always wanted from her, imposing on her a slow greedy exploration, seeing if she'll let him. Almost still, except for caressing lips and tongue, and his hands making slow soothing sweeps along her flanks. Once in a while he rocks a little, as if reminding them both that his hard cock rides against her damp curly mons, right between her widespread thighs. ]

[ But that's not what he's interested in. He wants to test her patience -- in a few ways he hasn't yet. No progression beyond the slow, purposeful kisses. Keeping everything exquisitely intense, as if all the nerve-endings in her body are centered in her face. ]

[She holds out longer than he might have expected, because she's not at her full energy level yet, and kisses are really, really nice. It's a few minutes before her body starts squirming against his, trying to increase the friction, and longer still before she murmurs with a grin against his lips]

I hate to break it to you, but we've kissed before.

[ Hei's hands curl into the sheets as she squirms against him. There's a flush to his mouth, lush and spit-slick as his tongue traces his lower-lip. ]

It gets a little more interesting.

[ He kisses her again, and this time there's a sharp bloom of hunger to it, a wash of ferocity. Still, he takes his time, all the time he's ever wanted, advancing nothing. She's behaving so far, which is both delightful and a stark difference from usual. But underneath he can feel that spring-coiled tension that creeps over her: the impatience, the wriggling. But he doesn't touch her -- not anywhere that isn't strictly proper. It isn't as if he isn't enjoying himself; his erection throbs with a reedy pulse against that soft thatch between her thighs. But it's a long time later, their lips bruised and swollen from the urgency of his kisses and a breathiness closing his throat, that he pulls away from her. ]

[ Casually, he lets his fingers stray down her length; dabbling lightly in her moisture, then pushing inside. The digits slide fluidly between her lips and begin to stroke. He bites one last kiss, and there's a playful heat in his eyes as he murmurs, ] I was thinking. About that time ... In the shed. [ He's never brought it up, because sometimes he wonders if Korra's ever forgotten his callousness that night. Mostly he's maintained a polite silence about that fiasco of a sexual encounter, since they're on relatively good terms with each other now. ]

[ Still, the atmosphere feels open enough for him to remark, ] You know what surprised me, about you?

[She's ready to grab him and start pushing the issue when he finally pulls away and directs his attention where it's most desired. With a little sound of pleasure-need, she snaps her legs shut around his hand, trying to make it so he can't pull out.

Her body's burning hot enough that the mention of the shed doesn't bother her. Not that it would have bothered her much anyway. It's far from her favorite memory, but in the grand scheme of traumatic experiences, it ranks pretty low on her list. She gives him a lust-hazed look of curiosity.]

What?

[ There's a half-smile as she clamps her legs around him, trapping his hand. In reply he twists his wrist, wedging his hand more comfortably between their bodies. He's slipped two fingers inside her down to the knuckle, and he's bearing down with the heel of his palm, his thumb slipping teasingly across her clit. When he speaks, his voice is soft, his mouth nestled close to her ear. ]

Turns out you're the opposite of what I imagined. You're easy. [ It's murmured between another taste of Korra's mouth, lingering on her bottom lip with his eyes half-closed, feeling his wrist ache as he rubs and coaxes and feels her clench slicky around his fingers. ] Easy to get you hot. Easy to make you come. [ His fingers make squelching noises as he pushes them deeper with each pass of his hand, rubbing now against that spot that always makes Korra rut against his thumb, makes her breathing hitch and her chest shudder so deliciously against him. ]

[ Quietly, he asks, ] You've always been like that?

[Easy? Korra's not entirely sure she likes the way that sounds, though it's hard to be annoyed when he's pressing that particular spot and making her feel dizzy with need. So much so that it takes her a moment to realize he asked her a question.]

Uh...I don't know? [She's never really thought about it. When she first tried masturbating at 11, she'd thought it was boring and didn't understand what the fuss was about. She's not exactly sure when she tried again, why she tried again, and when it became fun.]

Why?

pick a date; insufficient katya smut in inbox rn

The 22nd<33

<3

>///<

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