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[ Semper paratus. The maxim by which Hei navigates his daily life. No surprise that it extends to the drugs in his cabinet. At Korra's remark, he shakes his head. His argument is less about meditation or the competency of her reflexes (he's fought with her enough times to know those) and more about Korra's complete inability to know when to say when. ]

Not meditation. [ It's seldom ever worked for him; it's against his nature to be passive. You can sit like a fucking buddha, but that passivity will be skin deep. Inside you'll still be in a turmoil, still be boiling, a volcano that can erupt at any moment. Or worse -- you'll be frozen. You need movement to create a flow; a rhythm. After activity, rest and stillness follows. It's that simple. A balance. Similarly, you can't find a balance by staying constantly in motion. That's no better than a whirlwind. Just formless, self-destructive chaos. ]

[ To Korra, he says, ] You need some sort of guidance. Not a schedule, but at least a framework, set by a shifu. I can't help you with that -- but there has to be someone in the City who can.

[She carefully, hesitantly leans back into his hands. A distant part of her is kind of amazed how they can go from having sex to talking about spiritual growth.]

There's no one left here from my world. [Who else would know what to do?]

[ Not so amazing, when you consider Hei's background. Sex loses its glamor when it's crafted to get closer to marks, to seal business deals or break them -- and though he's shared a bed with plenty for recreation, in between, it's rarely with anyone he actually respected, let alone liked. His experiences have pushed him beyond any semblance of intimacy and into the walking equivalent of Second Life skins. Body parts on show, but mind shut off like white-noise. Positions and posturing, but no sparkage. He's grateful it's not like that with Korra. She's a warm place to hide, but also, somehow, an embodied grace period. He's always conscious of being on Lover Mode with her, of time melting both slower and faster and more saturated than regular time. Absorbed by stupid little details: the soft brush of her hair, her skin, the conversations and kisses that come from her mouth. ]

[ He finds an unexpected pleasure in gathering her in, in smoothing a palm up her back, in counting her eyelashes. His voice is thoughtful when he says, ]

It doesn't matter. The bending forms from your world ... they're similar to certain martial arts forms in mine. Probably similar to those in others' worlds too. The main thing is finding a teacher with a style that suits you.

[Thinking about teachers just makes her miss Tenzin and JInora with a sudden, fierce ache. She takes a deep breath and ignores it; she's gotten very good at that.]

How? Put out an ad on the network? [Blerch. The idea of posting herself publicly again, trying to explain what she's looking for to complete strangers, makes her feel queasy.]

[ He notices the deep breath, but doesn't remark on it. Instead he clasps his free arm loosely around her, one hand starfished on her belly, a mix of casual and possessive. The other hand keeps the ice in place, condensation dripping off its surface. The note of unease in her tone is startling -- but not very, considering what she's been through. His fingers drum idly against the warm curve of her stomach as he says, ]

It's a start. If anyone offers, I'll look into their backgrounds. Make sure they're who they say they are.

[ It's not entirely altruistic. It's also his way of checking the barometer of certain Citizen's abilities, and what their areas of expertise are. ]

[She leans just a little more into him, and tries to turn her neck to look at him without twisting her back.]

Who would lie about being a spiritual teacher?

[ When she leans in, he uncrosses his legs, wrapping them around her so she's settled against his chest. He lets his chin rest on her shoulder, absorbing her warmth and the aroma of her skin. ]

Who would lie about being a student who loves to cook?

[ Wry and matter-of-fact. Hei knows too many consummate liars -- and is one himself -- to take anyone at face value. (Part of him is amazed Korra still can, after the Rowena fiasco. ]

Am I supposed to understand what that means?

[ Hei glances at Korra and tries not to quirk a smile, settling instead for winding his arm around her waist and squeezing hard. She smells wonderful to him, of summery outdoors and the faint dew of sleep. Gathering her in tighter, he presses his face to her hair, murmuring, ]

Just that not everyone is who they say they are. And not everyone has pure intentions. It's no reason to hide under a rock and avoid all humanity. [ Fuck knows, that's worked out so fetchingly for him. ] But it's better to be careful.

[She wraps her arms around his, one hand gripping his elbow, the other lacing their fingers together.]

You're one to talk.

[She may be hiding in her Beach House, but he hides every day behind that idiot "Li" mask.]

[ Honesty is a dead sport in Hei's profession. Nothing more than a cover for a lie. Korra isn't like that, and perhaps that's what he finds so attractive. Refreshing, really, when he's been surrounded by schemers and cut-throats and gameplayers for so long. He's wrapped himself up in deception, hidden behind mask after mask, lie after lie, yet there's so little deceitful about her. She tries to hide her weak-spots, but not from him. Concurrently, he knows what Korra sees, and who Korra thinks she is curled against. He is locked inside his own body, unreachable, yet Korra is coming close to him inch by inch. ]

[ There are few he can say that about. Too few. ]

[ Eyes slipping shut, he takes a drowsy whiff of her hair, its scent augmenting his ruefulness but comforting him too. Kisses along her jaw and neck, not a demand for anything, but for the simple contact. ]

I am. That's the thing. [ More quietly, ] Don't hole yourself up because you think that's the only way to get stronger. Or because your pride thinks you have to grub along like a reptile. [ Don't be me, in other words. ] They're mighty survivors. But they die alone and crippled for a reason.

[Pretty sure I'm going to die that way anyway. Almost everyone she's known -- both from her world and from here -- has left. She's been almost crippled. She's even died once. (It's hard to get motivated to make new friends. Easier to stick with Chekov, who if he leaves, she can tell herself "He's better off without me," or Hei, "I'm better off without him." She doesn't think these things consciously, of course. It'd be too depressing and embarrassing to admit that, even to yourself.)]

You can take the ice pack off now. [Her skin is reaching the point of so cold it burns. She turns her head and, if his mouth happens to be close enough, she'll steal a kiss. Not necessarily to change the subject or move things forward, but just because it feels nice.]

[ Hei knows she's better off without him. Ordinarily he handles things with a chilling clarity, given the shifting, ambiguous world he lives in. But with Korra, his mind is a mess. Part of him is always keyed up, spilling over with reasons he should keep away from her -- with questions demanding to be asked, resentments to be aired, grey areas to be cleared up. But his body shares none of his mind's ambivalence. Desire is constant -- and comes with a large dose of confusion, because she wants him despite his cruel behavior and vacillating status -- and because he wants her too. The thing that bothers him is Is Korra getting to me? And something else bothers him even more: He's starting to entertain the probably stupid notion that he might be getting to her. Not to mention the skin-crawling comprehension that one of them is behaving like an idiot, and he's afraid he knows which one of them it is. ]

[ Unless it's both of us? ]

[ He doesn't think about it. Not now. Instead he sets the ice pack aside. He wants to ask if she feels better, but she's leaning in, and her mouth is right there to feed on. The kiss is soft, openmouthed, but it makes something hum and stroke chords in him. Only in moments like these, he feels, does the shape of their relationship resolve into something which makes sense. ]

[Korra sighs in quiet contentment. Kisses are much nicer than thinking. She wants to press closer to him, but she's still afraid to twist too much. So she moves their interconnected hands to her breast and massages.]

[ Hei's lips play with hers, plucking and teasing, on the fringes of languid, but with a spark of heat underneath. He lets her guide his hand to where she wants, slipping down her body, his fingers drawing a line beneath the swell of her breast, where it meets her torso, then kneading gently. In his boxers, his erection, while diminished, certainly hasn't gone down -- not with Korra so close, all warm and thrumming with life, half-drowsing against his chest, so he feels alive too. But her back is screwed up, and he needs to be careful of her. After a little bit, he gently draws her sideways across his lap, at a more comfortable angle to explore her mouth, to offer his. ]

[ He doesn't know how far she wants to take this. Is stunned, in a dim corner of his mind, that he has the liberty to touch her at all. If he were a better person, he wouldn't be here, kissing her. Of course he's never been that better person, and has long since abandoned the illusions of being anything other than who he is. ]

[How far does she want to take this? Silly question. She wants to, as much as possible, pick up where they left off before her back decided to have a fit. She lets go of his hand so she can tangle her fingers in his hair and pull him even closer.

After a moment, she breaks the kiss with a breathless laugh.]

I feel like an upsidedown turtleduck.

[Another kiss -- Can we shift positions again?]

I have no idea what that is.

[ He nudges his nose against hers, a lazy pitch to his half-smile. Beneath her thigh, through the boxers, she'll feel his cock stirring, the constriction of fabric and the warm weight of her body both irritating and tantalizing. With some careful maneuvering, he rolls them to their sides on the futon, face to face, one arm curled around her back. Keeping her close as he arches into her. The radiant heat of her skin and the friction feel good; he hums and bites down on the plumpness of Korra's lower-lip, want coiling tight and hot like a compressed spring in his belly. He can feel her through the thin material of his boxers, the faint, trace curlicues of dark hair between Korra's legs, spirals just discernible against the fabric as his hips rock. ]

[ One hand slides up the inside of her thigh, cupping her sex, two fingers dipping in. He explores her almost idly, spreading the moisture out and down. Breaks the kiss after a moment to slough off his boxers, twisting out of them before taking her wrist, bringing her hand to curl around his erection. ]

They're behind the Jasmine Dragon. [She hums and rocks against his hand, muscles clenching around his fingers. Her back feels better like this, curved just slightly, not quite in fetal position. When he puts her hand around his erection, she squeezes it hard before beginning to stroke it slow and tight.]

Are they edible?

[ Not as non-sequitur as expected, considering Hei's mind is always on food. ]

[ Well. Almost always. His breath is rough and catching as Korra strokes him, the sensation quivering in his nerves, through the air, a plucked violin string which takes too long to go still. His hand slides lower, working three fingers deeper into her now, and pressing on her clit with the heel of his hand. Korra's blue, sea-flecked eyes with their catlike slant seem to catch what little light there is and make electricity out of it. He keeps his gaze on her, watching for flickers of sensation on her face, a strange, syrupy mix of breathlessness and need seeping into him, as if his brain is porous, open to absorb the atmosphere suffusing the inky air around him. Keeping his other hand starfished across her back, holding her close, he nestles his face against the swell of one breast. Inhales deeply, parting his lips and pressing it over a nipple. As he begins to suck, he increases the friction, down between her legs, his fingers slithering back and forth across her slick clit like whispers. ]

[ He keeps it up -- relentless, patternless -- until he's brought her to the same simmer as earlier, before her back decided to whinge. ]

No! [Well, technically yes, but HOW COULD YOU EAT SOMETHING SO CUTE? Besides, there's not enough meat on them to be worth defeathering. She gasps as another finger enters her and he begins grinding in earnest. It makes it hard for her to concentrate on stroking him, but she bites her lip to keep her focus.]

Hnnng. [Almost a groan, not quite a whimper. Between his fingers and teeth, it doesn't take long at all for him to work her back up and then some. She's doing her best to give as good as she gets, speeding up her strokes, scraping her thumb against the sensitive skin.]

[ He eats you, doesn't he? ]

[ Perhaps not in the carnivorous sense -- but that's up for debate. There's a wicked, crooked tilt to his lips as he tugs one of Korra's nipples between his teeth. Korra is delicious at this angle, really, the ambient light soft on her sleek, full figure, shadows dipping and curving over her, from the bursts of dark curls between her legs and under her arms to the shiningly, imperfectly beautiful look on her face. Hei has trouble doing anything but staring at her. In her grip, his erection throbs with an almost-pain that flares to acute. The noises in his throat are swallowed, drowned, as he sucks rhythmically at her breasts. Below, three fingers are deep inside her as he torments her clit with his thumb. All that slickness flowing; he can feel it oozing over his hand and between her thighs. ]

[ Eventually, inevitably, it's impossible to stay still. Grabbing her hand, he yanks it from his erection and up to his mouth, where he kisses the fingers, and the palm, a wet licking kiss as if her sex is there. Then he lets it drop, reaching past her into his folded jeans. The foil squares crinkle as he draws them from the wallet. He scooches back just long enough to roll a condom on. Then he's pressing in close, her top leg drawn over his hip, the tip of his cock just kissing the damp curls of her mons. ]

[ His breath is jittery, hot, as he kisses Korra's mouth -- a request and a warning. ]

[She whimpers, her breathing ragged and desperate. Her world is nothing more than his skin on hers. When he pulls her hand away, she lets out a little cry of protest. She knows where this is going, why he's doing it, but damn it the time it takes for him to get and pull out the condom feels like forever. Her free hand grabs his ass and pulls him in with a strangled gasp.]

[ A seething sound escapes Hei as he sinks in deep, with a side-to-side wriggle that sends his nerves skirling. He gathers her in tight. Gathers his restraint by combing his fingers through her hair. His breath is hot against her face, and his mouth on her skin, here, here, here, is a warm wet flower. He's so fucking hungry for her, a hunger that blooms from every point of contact, like that thing the French say, about appetite coming from the eating. Nothing seems to take the edge off of it. He wants to touch and kiss her everywhere, but impatience is stronger -- he wants something more savory than the fast frantic ways he's had her before. He can still count the number of times he's fucked Korra like a human being on the fingers of one hand. ]

[ Somewhere, in that subterranean cave where things brush against the earth and liquid seeps through the layers of rock and skin, his mind screams to move. But he doesn't; just feels each of Korra's flutters echo back to him through her body. And still he doesn't fuck; he doesn't thrust. ]

[ Instead, he whispers, ]

Squeeze me.

[ It would sound hideously romantic -- Hold me or Hug me. But that's not what he means, and his rasping tone makes that clear. He wants her to clamp down around him with her inner muscles. To see if she can bring him off, bring herself off, with just a minimum of movement. ]

[She can feel his voice on her skin, the texture of a cat's tongue. It sends a tingle through her, and she clenches around him before she's even registered what he said. Coincidence? Subconscious obedience? Who knows. Burying her face against his neck, she rolls her hips just a little, some extra friction.]

[ Hei's quiet groan and surging stiffness clearly echoes his thoughts. Hitching her leg higher around his waist, he worms his hips to sink in deliciously deeper. Stays there, held in Korra's snug grasp, her body sprawled along his, her mouth fanning moisture on his neck. Each time she clenches around him, he twitches back. Clench, twitch. Stops breathing through his nose and switches to his open mouth. Clench, twitch. His palms coast up and down her body, stroking her breasts, her spine, her hips. Every cell seems to be begging him to move -- the smell of Korra's skin is driving him crazy. ]

[ Still, he stays buried all the way up inside her. One hand splays up her torso to palm her breasts, gathering them together, holding them like two soft peaches plucked off a tree. Then slipping down, between her thighs, palm resting on her pubic bone as his thumb searches and finds her slick clit. The lightest touch, once, twice, again, while his mouth wanders along her nape, and slides along and up, kissing that sensitive spot beneath her ear, tugging on the lobe. ]

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