mortemscintilla | IC Contact

[ Hard to manage balletic grace when you're attempting doggy-style against a dresser, true. ]

[ When she whines It hurts, Hei feels a cool chill spike up his spine, perhaps a shudder. He isn't sure if she means the position or the relentless rhythm. His heart is still juddering in his chest, and it's a struggle to focus on anything but the radiating heat of her, yet he withdraws. It feels like plunging naked into an ice-rink, his slick cock sliding out on a pop. Spinning her around with would-be steady hands, he hoists her onto the edge of the dresser. Kneels to give her a quick wet kiss on her clit, before he draws her legs up tight beneath his arms, pushing inside her again, the sensation flaring stars behind his eyes. ]

[ He lifts her then, carrying her to the bed without uncoupling. They hit the mattress with a thump; he stretches over her, covers her, his mouth buried in her neck as he takes deep hard toe-curling thrusts, one hand slipping between their bodies and teasing her clit with pinching fingertips. ]

[Hey. HEY. She wasn't whining okay she was just giving an explanation for her sudden attempt to walk backwards. The whining doesn't come until he pulls out -- it may be a short moment of emptiness, but it's still too long. Why did he have to -- if he had just --

Then he's inside her again, she's being carried to the bed, and yeah, okay, that was a much better idea that stumbling blindly back towards her bed. She locks her legs around him, gasping as he fondles her clit. She can feel another orgasm coming, straddling that line where pain is pleasure and pleasure is pain, and it annoys her, just a bit. If she'd slept with more men, she'd realize how lucky she is to have a partner so invested in getting her off multiple times, but as it is, she feels like it's a contest that she's losing. She bites the side of his neck hard and reaches down to fondle his balls, trying to make him come before she does.]

[ Combat and competition are the references from which Hei approaches everything else in life. Korra's drive to outdo, to outplay, isn't unfamiliar to him. What is unfamiliar, however, is his willingness to indulge her. To be -- if not deferential -- then definitely something approaching generous. Why shouldn't he be? She has a body well-worth lingering on -- despite his tendencies to skip the preliminaries and satisfy only himself. But he's starting to learn that it might not be selfishness as much as a lifetime of running on a tight schedule. Always on the go. Always alert for threats. ]

[ Here, he has all the time he needs -- until the City sees it fit to pluck him out again. ]

[ He groans into her skin as her hand roves against his balls, her biting teeth sparking colors that mate and multiply behind his eyes. It's not the skill but her nervy eagerness that does him in; everything is hot, hot, sticky and burning and the air itself seems to sear and Hei can't hold back anymore. Hot pleasure detonates in his groin and races outwards and upwards, making him arch his back and shudder. The contractions are violent, total, and he fucks her harder, not faster, but with more force, pushing his cock through her fluttering passage and making the mattress creak. A strange noise rips from his throat, low and raw and wavery, like a sob. It's probably the only time he loses one layer of his reserve. ]

[She clenches tightly around him, thrilled by the sounds coming out of him. These moments, when he's fucking her, just as his climax hits him, are the closest he gets to real honesty. (That should be a warning sign, but instead she simply savors it.)

As they catch their breaths, Korra hears Reinbach, still under the bed, crying desperately. And.....yep, there's one of the dogs scratching at the door, whining to be let in. It occurs to her that none of the animals have heard her really let it out; she does her best not to scream when masturbating, even though she makes sure to only do it when she has the house to herself. They probably think she's dying. The thought makes her laugh again, a soft whuffing sound muffled against his chest.]

[ The low puff of her laughter hits Hei's skin in a moist flutter, vibrating through her body so he feels it where they're still connected. He shivers, just a little, from the sensation, exhaling a tired noise before twisting awkwardly away, rolling onto his back next to her. The world is dazed, spinning, and he can't get a grip on it. Aftershocks rock him, hard and bitter, unwanted now. Bit by bit, reality reasserts itself -- the mewling cat, the scratching at the door where one of the dogs lingers, the unfamiliar bed, Korra's damp warm skin a few inches away. ]

[ Passing a heavy arm over his eyes, Hei slumps like a sack of bricks, dully conscious of how cumbersome and lumbering he feels, how scooped out and drained. It's not a relaxing feeling. It makes him want to shrink away somewhere dark, shower, pull his clothes on and exit. Before his body can respond to the old reflex, he shuts it down. Quietly, without looking at Korra, he murmurs, ]

Did you learn anything from that library book? The one about the Firelord?

[ Yeah. Not one for smutty, tender, post-coital chats. He sounds more like he's going over new business. (But the fact that he's interested in knowing at all, says volumes.) ]

[She's disappointed but hardly surprised when he rolls away. It's what he does. She's half expecting him to just walk out the door without a word.

Instead, he asks about the book. She rolls onto her side, hugging a pillow to her chest. Between the bruises, the ache between her legs, and the question he's asked, she feels painfully vulnerable.]

I'm not sure. I already knew the story, maybe not in that much detail. But I don't know how it's supposed to help me. [She doesn't sound resentful...mostly lost. She's sure there's some kind of answer in it, but no matter how many times she reads it, she can't figure out what it might be.]

[ At the back of his mind, Hei can almost hear someone scolding him for his coolness, for jumping up too soon. It's not like a drive-through at Mc-fucking-Donald's. Don't crumple it up and trash it as soon as you're done. The words float up out of the mists of his memory, even as he concentrates on Korra's voice. Who'd said that to him? The "voice" of it feels feminine. Amber? He tries to picture the context, but comes up blank, beyond the uneasy stirring of deja vu, a sense of You felt this way with Amber, too. It's all very strange and he doesn't want to be thinking about it. ]

[ Instead he sits up, mostly to locate a dustbin and dump the condom in. Settling back in bed, facing Korra this time, he slips his fingers idly through her tangled hair. His tone is contemplative when he asks, ]

Is it a story with a moral?

[ Break it down into the simplest components. If you keep over-analyzing every angle, the answers, if any, will elude you. ]

[She shakes her head.] It's history. It's about how the 100 Years War began, with Avatar Roku and Firelord Sozin. [Still, she frowns. History has its lessons. But what's she supposed to learn from this? Don't rely on a firebender for a ride? Don't live under a volcano?]

[ Hei makes a discreet noise, almost like a cough. His way of saying I don't know who these people are, or what the 100 year war is. He's gotten fragments from Jinora, from Asami and Bolin, from conversations he's picked up when monitoring the beach house. But he's never cared to wade in-depth. He knows the immediate background of Korra's circle, their priorities and goals. That's what any Contractor focuses on. Paring everyone down to the basics, so you know how to manipulate them, know what their triggers and weak-points are. Ancient history may have its lessons. But they have little bearing for someone who keeps his eyes on the straight-and-narrow. ]

[ The pad of his fingers nudge, just slightly, at Korra's jaw, like he knows where her attention is plummeting and it doesn't need to, but that's her choice. It's only answers he wants from her right now. ]

How did it start? A vendetta? Money? Power?

[ People hire Hei to exact death for different reasons. But most contracts, if not all, have one thing in common. The aspiration for control. Whether real or imagined. The death of one person (or persons) to free another -- financially, emotionally, geographically, businesswise, all four -- for acquiring power, snatching control. ]

Right. Sorry. [She leans into his hand just a bit, soothed by the contact.] It started because Sozin wanted to bring the entire world under Fire Nation control. He called it "sharing the prosperity." [Her tone makes it quite clear what she thinks of that.] Roku told him that the Four Nations were meant to be independent and unique. He said that if Sozin tried to take over any of the other nations, he would stop him.

One day, a volcano erupted on the island that Roku lived on. Sozin helped Roku save the villagers... but when he realized that he could begin his conquest if Roku died... Sozin left him there. They had been best friends growing up, and he let him die. [Let her die, in a way, which is a disconcerting thought, even for someone comfortable with reincarnation.]

After that, he destroyed the Air Nomads so that he could kill the next Avatar. And that's how the war began. [The war ended 70 years before she was even born...in many ways, it's very distant from her. She doesn't have the hatred of the Fire Nation that her grandparents had, or the mistrust of all firebenders. The Southern Water Tribe had grown and flourished in those 70 years. But some scars still remained, deep in the psyche of her entire tribe. It's hard not to feel anger and resentment thinking about the eradication of the Air Nomads, and Ozai's attempt to eliminate the entire Southern Water Tribe.]

[ Hei's thumb makes an absent circling on Korra's cheekbone as she speaks. There's a surreal sort of echo here. Memories of moments like these, with marks, on assignments, different beds, different bodies -- it all wants to intrude, but this isn't that. There's no element of cold-blooded calculation here. He doesn't have to hold himself differently, to gauge the quality of Korra's silences, the inflection of her words, for openings to manipulate, so he can get what his superiors need. But perhaps that's half the point, not turning away from this semblance of honesty, not shaping his own responses to as if to keep all those fake stories and identities about himself straight. ]

[ He cocks his head as he absorbs the information about Sozin. It reminds him of all the crackpot leftists and rightists he's met in his history. He'd run into them from time to time in Tokyo too -- they'd professed to abhor change, especially anything Western-influenced, held an aggressive outlook on other cultures, and were driven to prove the universality of their own ideas, and so their validity, with ruthless invasion and hegemonization. He thinks of the Dai Toa Kyoeikan -- the East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere. Of Japanese colonial history in Korea and China, and its attempts to save Asia from the tyranny of Western market forces. Ironic, when market forces -- control, acquisition, competition -- were what drove the Japanese into their own imperial conquests. Of course, the Western nations had already taken their own concessions in China, and America had institutionalized the seeming plunder of Asia with its own so-called Open Door policy. ]

[ (He thinks, too, of Pandora's affiliation with the Syndicate -- of its thirst to erase all Contractors, the way Sozin destroyed the Air Nomads.) ]

[ Eventually, quietly, ]

So who stopped the war? Aang?

Not just Aang. [But that gets a smile out of her.] They were a group. Katara, Sokka, Toph, Zuko and Suki. Aang couldn't have stopped Firelord Ozai and ended the war without them.

[after a moment, it occurs to her] Ozai was Sozin's grandson. Sozin, Azulon, and Ozai were the three firelords during the war.

[She feels a little bit like she's reciting her history lessons. Wouldn't her masters be proud!

.........considering she's naked and come-encrusted, no, probably not. But they'd probably be surprised she remembered Azulon. He was pretty much the firelord that history forgot; his atrocities were overshadowed by both his father and his son.]

[ It feels like a history lesson at Hei's end too. ]

[ Of course, Korra being Korra, offers a rather simplistic explanation. Not her fault. Some might consider the tendency to simplify a condemnation, but it's not. Realistically, society and human life is just too complex for everyone to know everything about it. You can't possibly absorb all the facets -- even within your own culture. It's how human beings cope with the overwhelming and profound unpredictability that is existence. This is doubly true about topics such as war and conquest. ]

[ In Hei's case, Korra's explanation still leaves him in the dark. But from experience, he knows that the best way to combat this is by investing the time to learn particular slices. To educate himself in the practical topic that interests him. Which, in this case, is Korra's predecessor, Aang -- whose link, his legacy, a walking talking snarking dancing laughing pestering marvel -- is right next to Hei. ]

[ After a beat, he draws his hand back. His smile shows more in the set of his eyes than his mouth -- both wry and rueful. ]

Even if Aang didn't stop the war alone ... you have big shoes to fill.

Like I ever could. [She hitches the pillow tighter, resisting the urge to bury her face in it as she's hit with a wave of bitterness.] He ended a century of war when he was 12 years old. I'm 17 and could hardly stop one guy from taking over a single city. [Sure, she had revealed Amon as a fraud, put an end to the Equalist movement...but he had still gotten away, and took her bending with him. With "wins" like that, you might as well lose.]

[ Hei isn't one to mollycoddle. He rarely has the patience. ]

[ You'll do better than him, he could reassure Korra, as a reflex lie, except he'd have to struggle to keep a straight face in the maw of absurdity. Reassurance is such a sad, pathetic thing. Deep inside, everyone knows the truth. Except dismissing Korra as a pale imitation of Aang isn't fair either. Aang may have been a wunderkind. But it's apparent he grew up in different circumstances. In a war, the adversity and volatility can bring out the worst in you -- or the best. Korra, shuttered away for years, hasn't been similarly tested. But that doesn't mean she isn't made of powerful stuff. Despite her occasional nightmarish moments of stupidity, Hei's never lost his sense of Korra's uniqueness and strength. A strange bundle of confluences, she's innocent and clever, making mountains of joy out of a molten sludge of grief, rainforests of hope out of water and dirt, fresh liquid dreams out of salt tears. ]

[ She is alchemy achieved by instinct, the instinct of a miracle which is not aware of itself, but which has nonetheless found a use even for spent breaths of futility. ]

That doesn't make you a failure. [ Flat, but factual. He hasn't felt the sense of inadequacy in a long time. But that doesn't mean he's forgotten what it's like. ] Things were different when Aang was alive. So comparing yourself to him will just make you miserable. He was Aang. You're Korra. So just ... [ A beat, his tone making it hard to tell whether this is meant to be lighthearted or a wry admission of the truth. The most likely story; both. ] Just be Korra. I've seen her do enough incredible things, all on her own.

[He's said that to her before -- during the t-shirt curse, back when she just knew him as "Li," when everything was a lie. Maybe it's a sign that he's lying to her now, just telling her what she wants to hear. (But she knows, in the same way she knew that Mako really liked her and Hei was really drawn to her, that he's telling the truth.)

She smiles at him, amused, abashed, a little shy.] You're just saying that to get me ready for round two.

[ Hei hitches a shoulder in a mild shrug, a silent Could be, although it's really not, and they both should know it. Pitching his weight forward, he presses his lips to hers -- languid yet biting, his hair skimming down across her face in choppy whispery webs. Nudging his body between her thighs, he shifts a hand, wriggles it in the space between them. In this position, her damp sex is pressed up tight against his hip, like an open-mouth kiss. He finds her clit with light fingertips, still swollen and gently pulsing, and rubs his thumb across it. ]

Or maybe, [ he murmurs, his lips mingling with hers as he draws back a little, so she can see the tiny crook of a smile at the corner of his mouth, ] you only mentioned round two so it happens faster.

Please. Would I do that? [Grinning, because yes. Yes she would. She leans in for more kisses, pressing herself harder against him with every touch to her clit.

Scratch scratch scratch. Mocha whines pitifully to be let in, and Korra growls.] Go away, Mocha!!! [Note to self: Next time you invite Hei over for sex, lock all the animals outside.]

[ Hei represses a cringe when she shouts at the dog; her mouth is right next to his ear. ]

[ Honestly, why is she compelled to keep all these annoying animals indoors? Can't she get them kennels or something? Leashes? He would ask. But even as she growls in irritation, he wonders if she's aware of her hips doing an unconscious little jig against his hand. He leans in to kiss her again, hungrier this time, one press of lips after another. But its a slow intensity, no wildness or haste. His cock, semi-erect, and lengthening, presses between their bellies. Scooching back for just a moment, he reaches with his free hand for the pants lying on the floor, next to the bed. Snatches out the wallet, the leather cool and rubbery against Korra's hip as he resettles against her, head dipping to resume their conversation with lazy kisses. ]

[The answer is she loves them, nitwit. And unlike Naga, they can actually fit inside. More than once she's been curled up in her room, lonely and miserable but unable to go outside to Naga for one reason or another. And then Mocha or Hamlet or even one of the cats will curl up with her and it doesn't fix anything but it soothes the ache.

She loves them, but that doesn't mean they don't also drive her up the wall. While Hei grabs another condom, Korra grabs the nearest object off her nightstand -- her network device -- and hurls it at the door.] Seriously, Mocha. SHUT UP.

[She can hear Mocha curl up on the floor instead of leaving, but at least she's quiet now. Reinbach has either decided to shut up again or has lost his voice; either way, he's quiet now, and Hei is back and kissing her and it is perfect.]

[ She really ought to be careful with tossing her Network device. Those things switch on and off at whim. The last thing he needs right now is a broadcasted fuckfest for the City's entertainment. ]

[ When she shrieks at the dog, Hei feels, disquietingly, like he's trying to snatch a quickie while there's a gaggle of brats constantly knocking on the door. It's not a sexy feeling, and he shakes it off hard. Presses himself full length against Korra, skin to skin, rubbing his rising cock slowly against the indent above her hipbone, her pubic hairs wiry and soft against his thigh. ]

Should get that one a muzzle.

[ Murmured between kisses, his lips tracing hers, tongue dipping cool and light into her mouth. He just wants to dive down on the sensations, deepening each kiss, submerging into want. Korra's every small movement seems to produce natural responses in him, as if he's finally stumbled upon the code which will let him unscramble all her volatile signals and read the unencrypted plain text. His right hand rests on her pubic bone, thumb making a slick circling around her clit. The left, with a one-handed mix of distraction and deftness, plucks out the foil square, which he breaks the kiss to tear open. ]

Edited 2013-09-17 06:37 (UTC)

Stop complaining. [More distracted than cross. She can't exactly complain herself, with the way he rubs against her, his kisses soft and dizzying. She hasn't yet recovered enough from earlier for another rough & tumble; slow & careful is more than okay with her.

She reaches for the condom as he rips it open.] Hey, let me. [Assuming he does, she'll give his erection a few hard strokes before sliding the rubber on.]

What's that goopy stuff you were using before? [If the question seems to be coming out of nowhere...well, it kind of did. Korra's not sure what made her think of the "back door" option. Something about the soreness between her legs, a throbbing memory of being filled, reminds her of another space that feels empty. Or maybe she's just in the mood for a challenge. She'd loved the feel of him in there, pushing her limits, stretching her muscles in ways they don't normally stretch. Just because she's not ready for rough again doesn't mean she wants it easy.]

[ Hei lets her take the condom, pushing his face to the side of Korra's throat and letting his hard breath stir her hair. Rivulets of pre-cum ooze around her stroking fingers. He can practically taste the ache to be inside her, his muscles and erection stinging with want, thick and blood-filled, like a runner's stitch. When she starts talking, out of the blue, he lets off a low hum, both irritated and weakly questioning. Weak-kneed? Jesus fuck -- like he's a teenager all over again, struggling forcefully, desperately, with UB-001's standard-issue underwear that first time, making strangled, soft noises of desperation into her giggling mouth, her green strands of hair sticking everywhere -- but no, this is -- different. ]

[ Stranger. ]

[ Lifting his head, he nudges his mouth against hers, kisses printed between breathy, frustrated little gasps. Eventually, ] Lube, not -- goopy stuff. [ It occurs to him that she might want to try the other option, and the idea turns his muscles into a greedy tensile steel. Rocking his hips lightly against hers, he lets his teeth catch her upper-lip. Murmuring, amidst little bites, ] If you don't have that, coconut oil works too.

[ His condoms are generally polyurethane, not latex; the oil would only degrade the latter. And he doubts she'd trust him enough (or is it the other way around?) to bareback it. ]

I think we have that. [The coconut oil, not lube. Tohru had kept the kitchen really well stocked. She continues stroking him, idly reflecting how strange the rubber feels against her hand. His little nibbles make her hiss with pleasure, and she trails kisses across his chin to nip his ear.]

I'd have to go to the kitchen. [It's more of a question than a statement -- how impatient is he?]

[ Static trickles up and down Hei's spine as she nips his ear. He slips his hands underneath Korra's shoulderblades and kisses her, sloppy and rough and hungry, breathing hard through his nose. His erection prods against her belly, the trap of her fingers, trying to find the right angle to rub against her. They seem to be in an incredibly clumsy yet comfortable tangle of bodies and limbs and heat; it'd be so easy to angle his hips, to spread her wide and just go into her. ]

[ Instead, with a sharp inhale, he breaks the kiss. ]

If you take longer than a minute ...

[ It could be a threat or a promise; he isn't sure which. He only knows that the ache of patience has never been one of his particular virtues. ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject