mortemscintilla | IC Contact

[ Kissing Korra, Hei feels her tense up insistently, the muscles in her body tightening under his clutching hands. He imagines her as a diagram in a book -- Korra being kissed, Korra getting fucked, and Korra being left well enough alone, the biological differences. Humming, he tips her thighs up and back to open her wider. Sinks down, rocking deep into her, and opens his mouth into the kiss, exhaling with relief, perspiring with restraint. A semblance of control had settled in the air around them when Pai knocked on the door; the world had expanded to include surroundings -- the furniture, the windows, the walls, the building The block and its environs had held their breath while he and Korra were fucking; during the interruption, they had let it out. ]

[ But not anymore. Hei feels everything in him, around him, stumbling and caving in. His right hand cups Korra's jaw. He kisses her over and over, as if trapped in a void without air. Sweat films their bodies, creating a slick melody as he moves, tight hot jabs, barely thrusting at all. He's so oversensitive from that aborted climax, the hard tingle in his balls backing up, a harsh weighty ache. Slipping his free hand between him and Korra, he lets a forefinger trace slow figure eights on her clitoral shaft, careful not to overstimulate that electric sensitivity of the exposed tip. He's quieter now, restrained, even as he can hear the liquid sounds coming from between their bodies and hear the suppressed quickening breaths rushing through his own nostrils. ]

[ Eyes open. Light-headed. Vulnerable. Unsure of what he wants and startled to discover that whatever it is, he can have it. He realises suddenly that this was what people are always referring to when they yammer inanely about being in somebody else's arms. ]

[Korra knows exactly what she wants, and it's to come. He's toying with her again, teasing her clit but not letting her tip over the edge. It's tempting to whine about let go of control, but she opts for something a little less serious instead.]

Is this my punishment for being loud? [The words are gasped out in a heated whimper.] Because some of that was totally your fault.

Maybe it's punishment ... for punishment's sake.

[ There is a tiny V-for-victory of a smile on Hei's face. His words are quiet, that aching open desire in his throat making every syllable raspy. His finger is replaced by the pad of his thumb, and with its slippery quickening pressure the controlled figure eights become crude zeroes, then frantic sloppy diagonals which focus entirely on her clit. Two short strokes later, he's back to his previous rhythm -- but a degree more controlled. His body presses heavily on Korra's breasts and belly; he exhales a soft noise, throaty and broken, and drives into her, faster and harder, the mattress complaining and shivers echoing through the tense chamber of his body every time he bounces off her pubic bone. ]

[ Kisses. More of them. Fiercer now, while that unknowing need aches between Hei's lungs and radiates across his groin, and makes him lose his breath in Korra's mouth. Korra, who doesn't know what she's doing to him. Who can tease and mewl and laugh with the same wild, overflowing breath like it doesn't matter and who probably, ironically won't realize the risks that come with knowledge, the price attached to seeing him exposed this way. Korra, who. Korra. ]

[She comes with a scream. She can't think enough to even try and hold it back; her only saving grace is how it's swallowed by his mouth. He steals the cry like he's been stealing every other piece of her. Parts she didn't notice were there until suddenly they were gone.

Her body trembles, her limbs suddenly feeling weak and sluggish as her climax fades and she sinks into the mattress. She looks up at him with hazy blue eyes, wanting to say something but words are all gone. The most she can manage is a twitchy little smile.]

[ Korra's whole body ripples and surges around him as the orgasm detonates inside her, tearing a gorgeous scream from her throat. Hei kisses her harder, eating the sounds of pleasure she makes as the climax rides her. Pleasure arcs over him like forks of lightning; he keeps moving, drawing the sensations out for her as long as he can, until her waves subside. She's loose and drenched afterward, no longer clinging. When he scoops her knees up she flexes like putty. He fucks her now for his own release, and stares into her half-lidded, sleepy eyes. ]

[ (In that moment, he can't help but think she's never been so beautiful as she is right then, sated and entirely open to him, without resistance.) ]

[ Gasping, he clutches her tightly, the net of neurons firing, his muscles trembling. Every roll of his hips is liquid, brutal, the crest roaring up like a bright flare of fear. He exhales a throaty groan and jams deep into her, holding himself there, stiff and paralyzed. Pouring something into her -- something enormous and tangled, dark and terrifying. Through the haze of sensation, it unnerves him how little control he has over any of this. Whole body spasming, racked by deep shudders -- ]

[ Then it's over. He slumps, face buried in Korra's neck, taking deep snuffing breaths. His muscles twitch, his nerves itch, and his mind screamed: Get the fuck out of here. He can feel his body going rigid almost at once with that horrible, familiar tension -- Fight or Flight. ]

[Korra doesn't have a chance to enjoy her post-coital high. There's that delicious moment when he comes and his face is unreadable & open.

But when the moment passes, he goes stiff. Usually she gets a few moments of him relaxed & contented before he crawls back into himself, but not tonight. Her smile fades and she releases her arms from his neck, sliding them down his shoulders.]

What's wrong?

[ She asks What's wrong? But Hei can't meet her eyes. His upper lip curls, twisting. His knuckles are pale as they clutch the sheets into whirlpools of wrinkles, and he looks almost sick, his face bloodless. ]

I --

[ It's one of his cold I'm fine's, but aborted, his lips pressing hard together and his throat convulsing. Rolling off Korra, he tears himself out of bed in a clatter of bare limbs. He feels like some massive thing hanging over him has broken free and plummeted. The weight of it comes down on top of him like the hand of God, obliterating everything that he is, crushing him physically and conceptually; it smears away his existence in a blast of pressure and roaring white light. He can feel every loose fragment that makes up his identity disintegrate and burn out. ]

[ Let go of control, Korra had asked. But as Hei leans against the window, breathing an expanding crest of condensation against the glass, he understands why that's impossible. He identifies himself with control -- when he has it, he exists, when he loses it, he disappears. No wonder he is upset. This incident feels like he's attending his own, very public, execution. ]

[ Not looking at Korra, Hei swallows. His fingers, pale and scarred-spidery, quiver for a moment in mid-air, before he drags a hand through his damp hair, and stares unblinkingly into some private hell beyond the window. Tonelessly, he says, ]

I'm fine.

[Korra sits up, pulling the sheets up to cover herself, feeling suddenly, bitterly cold.]

No you're not.

[Anyone else, she would go up to, and touch. She'd wrap her arms around him and hold tight in comfort. But this is Hei, and when he goes like this, he doesn't want to be anywhere near her. She settles for holding herself.]

What's going on?

[ Hei swings away from the window, dumping the condom in the dustbin and reaching for his discarded clothes in almost the same sweeping motion. He feels both like a beast in a tiny cage; and also like he's taken a punch to the stomach. All wrecked inside. It's an old feeling, only now he can feel the fragments, sharp and cruel, ripping out of his skin. He can feel Korra's wide eyes on him. The room is so narrow, he's almost afraid that she might overhear his thoughts. He doesn't answer her question. Instead, he makes it halfway out the bedroom -- with an intention to get outside, maybe to the street, clear his head so Pai won't be disturbed and Korra won't be frightened -- when the trembling begins. Something he hasn't felt since he was a boy, caught in the red haze of Heaven's War. ]

[ Strength fades from his fingers so he can't button up the last of his shirt. Hands shaking so he has to grab something before they drop off his wrists. A delayed wallop. Inhaling, he clenches his fists, and his teeth, and screws his eyes shut. Not now, not now, NOT NOW -- ]

[ -- And, with a sudden, violent movement, slams his hands against the side of the wardrobe and shoves it over. Pai will hear that, a distant voice cautions, miles and miles away, while the wardrobe crashes to the ground with a resounding thud and a clatter of coat hangers falling inside it, the echo booming around the room. One of the doors slowly sags open, in a creaking anticlimax. ]

[ Hei stares at the damage, suspended, for the moment, like he's about to disappear off into himself. Drained of all colour and shaking so violently it looks like he might actually be struggling to stand up, supporting himself with one hand against the wall. His chest is heaving in and out with rattling speed, his breaths loud and almost panicked, the eyes wild and unseeing with an animal horror. He makes a noise, muffles it in the heel of his hand. ]

[ Not now. Never again. It settles cool and heavy as a thick blanket over his whirling thoughts, and Hei shuts his eyes tight, takes a deep breath in -- and this time holds it. ]

[Korra scrambles back in the bed, eyes wide and terrified. She's never seen him like this before -- not this angry and violent for no imaginable reason. They'd been having a good time together. They'd been feeling good. What happened?!

She doesn't know what she would have done if she had clothes on. Maybe she would have fled. Maybe she would have stayed. But naked and vulnerable as she is, with no idea what's going on in his head or what he's going to do next, the only thing she can do is remain frozen in place and hope against hope that whatever is going on with him will pass.

The helplessness is more terrifying than he is.]

[She would have to be deep in her Renumeration to miss that crash. Pai leaps out of bed and runs to her brother's room.

It doesn't take her long to assess the scene -- Korra, paralyzed in fear on the bed, and her brother by the wreckage of his wardrobe, wild and tense and vibrating with restrained violence. Nudity aside, it's a familiar sight to Pai -- but not one she's seen in the City.

She wraps her arms around Hei's waist and holds him tight. Turning a dark glare to Korra, she says coldly] Leave.

[ Hei's head pounds from the inside -- how can it pound like that, when his heart seems so still? He wishes he could drink acid, to erase the bitter flavor in his mouth -- a replica of the metallic adrenaline from the war. He barely registers it when Pai bursts into the room. Some tiny part of him curls and shrivels that she should have to see him like this again -- a salted slug, oozing in its own stew. He's not that friable boy he was, five years ago. He's not so easy to crush into powder. Yet, as Pai wraps her arms around him, he struggles against the cloud in his mind. It's like being drunk, it is worse than that. ]

[ Bowing his head against her glossy hair, he takes a breath. Not because he needs to. But because her scent grounds him -- an anchor of familiarity. ]

[ While he'd come apart, he could feel the air around Korra crowding with horror. But he knows watching him come together again isn't soothing. It's a sudden, unnerving process. Hei breathes in, slackens his muscles and wraps a loose arm around Pai, even as his chin lifts, his head like a snake's answering to a pipe. He blinks the wildness in his eyes back down to whatever locked cell inside him it has sprung from. The clearness which resurfaces in his gaze has an awful weariness to it. His hands settle on Pai's shoulders, still trembling but no longer wracked with the shaking spasms which had briefly overtaken him. ]

[ To Pai, regarding Korra, he says, ] It's not her fault. [ His voice sounds sore, like he has a bad cold or has hurt his throat yelling, but his words are clipped and calm. Leaning in, he tips a kiss to Pai's forehead: I'm sorry, I'm okay, thank you, I need time -- all in the same press of lips. Then with an unexpectedly fluid movement, he detaches and glides away from her, plucking his hoodie from where he had left it and shrugging it on. Then he steps into his shoes, foregoing socks. He moves in simple, sharp bursts of movement. Rehearsing normality. ]

[ Without looking at Korra, he says, ] ... You should go home. [ He doesn't add I'll talk to you later -- because right now he doesn't have the stomach for it. He can still feel the shock -- the fear -- slithering around his shoulders and hissing in his ear before it burrows straight down into his chest, twisting and sliding and squeezing the breath out of him. It's not Korra's fault; but she's the reason he's feeling it. ]

[ Shaking it off, Hei exits the room -- then the apartment. ]

[There's no relief when he leaves, and it's not just because Xing lingers, her gaze dark and threatening.

But the girl isn't leaving. Korra forces herself to ignore her as she hurriedly gets dressed, and in a few moments, she's bolting out the door.

She makes it about three blocks before she stumbles and curls up in an alley, sobbing. (She doesn't move from that spot until Naga finds her an hour later.)]

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