[ Out of all his miscalculations -- some choreographed, some not -- Hei's never been self-indulgent enough to think they were bad ideas. No, maybe not self-indulgent. Maybe he'd just never given a fuck before, because he's designed to overcome any catastrophe, to turn the impossible into the possible. He's always transmogrified his mistakes into renewed options. Even his contingency plans have extra contingency plans. But right now, even as Hei lifts a hand to cup Korra's jaw -- not like something fragile but something precious that even his calculated fingers have no place holding -- he's thinking this is a bad idea. That it should be like it always is. They should stop talking. They should just fuck -- shields up and minds switched off; Korra should go home; Hei should head for work Underground. ]
[ But it's just -- overwhelming, the way Korra kisses him. A heat that spikes a shiver through him, makes him seize her tighter, bring her mouth deeper to his. All her kisses, he thinks, are the opposite of his. Eloquent. Sincere. She tells herself to him with kisses. He tries to match her, and it's strangely tentative. Lets her taste his yearning, his patience -- because when is Hei ever patient? He gasps when they finally break, catching up on air. Smoothes her tangled hair under his hands, and thinks Why the hell not? Because if this falls to shit too, it won't be the first time he's been ripped apart and had to rebuild everything from scratch. ]
Do not use this against me.
[ And who knows if that's a plea or a threat or a genuine prayer because Hei's too busy leaning in again, angling his chin as he brushes his lips softly against hers. Not demanding, not desire-hot; just jittery and unsure, a gentle kind of press. ]
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[ But it's just -- overwhelming, the way Korra kisses him. A heat that spikes a shiver through him, makes him seize her tighter, bring her mouth deeper to his. All her kisses, he thinks, are the opposite of his. Eloquent. Sincere. She tells herself to him with kisses. He tries to match her, and it's strangely tentative. Lets her taste his yearning, his patience -- because when is Hei ever patient? He gasps when they finally break, catching up on air. Smoothes her tangled hair under his hands, and thinks Why the hell not? Because if this falls to shit too, it won't be the first time he's been ripped apart and had to rebuild everything from scratch. ]
Do not use this against me.
[ And who knows if that's a plea or a threat or a genuine prayer because Hei's too busy leaning in again, angling his chin as he brushes his lips softly against hers. Not demanding, not desire-hot; just jittery and unsure, a gentle kind of press. ]