mortemscintilla | IC Contact

[ He doesn't want to think about the gate. It's a gut-shock, each and every time -- cold and sudden. As messily glorious as this is -- wetness smeared across Hei's mouth and chin, two fingers inside Korra, one goading the tight pucker lower down, feeling the tiny ripples of muscle as his tongue laps wetly at her clit -- it can't be the last time. But then, he wonders uneasily -- what would he do if it were? Should he do something different? Grasp the minutes before they melt together, just keep teasing Korra, goading and coaxing, seeing what she's capable of. Or cover her with his body, trading sticky-hot kisses back and forth, looking into her eyes as he sinks into her? Would that be -- more meaningful? Better? More like a -- ? ]

[ -- No. He can't think the word goodbye, in case it becomes true. Won't think about Yin, either. It's hard. But his feelings for Yin are like something suspended in amber, precious and real and intact but ... apart. Untouchable. He carries the affection with him always, but doesn't get much use out of it. Whereas Korra ... ]

[ With a rasping growl, he forces her legs wider apart. Memorizing her -- with her ripe breasts, her pulsing belly, her smooth thighs, and that deep pink frill of her sex. A perfect, glistening droplet of moisture streaks down, framed by dark, dewed curls. Humming, Hei buries his mouth there, kissing and tonguing and then devouring her, no games, no finesse, just the taste tart and sticky in his mouth. Gripping her hipbones, her thighs, he feels the pliant hardness of the muscles beneath his palms. Feels her muscles flutter while he eats her, the wetness dripping down his chin, really dripping, spit and come, like he's bitten into an apricot. Wet stains on the sheets below. ]

Please... [She used to make a point of trying not to beg, still does sometimes, but pride has long ago gone the way of resistance and competition. She's given herself over to him too completely. She is, right now, little more than a bundle of hormones and desperate need.

Her mind suddenly flashes to that post Carla had made, pleasuring the girl who was tied up and helpless. The image sends a spike of desire through her even as it makes her feel sick. She doesn't want to be that girl.

She grabs his head, tugs on hand and hair to pull him up. She doesn't want to be that girl. She doesn't want to be that girl.]

[ She says Please and Hei can feel the arousal thudding blindly in his veins. He is raw, and it has nothing to do with the drag of Korra's nails on his skin or the drugging warmth of the air. When she flails out, catches him by the hair and yanks, he feels like he's surfaced as if from drowning, blind and drenched. Shafts of noon sunlight slant low-angled and orange through the skylight to touch Korra's face. Under the surface pleasure, there's a kind of stifled wildness leaping into her eyes, like an ember jumping from a campfire in a gust of wind before being snuffed out. It is brief, but it is there. ]

[ Carefully, he settles against her, arms bracketing her on each side. Ignoring the painful throb in his erection, the wet crown dipping against her belly, leaving dabs of moisture. Swallowing, he licks his lips. He can still taste her. She is on his mouth, his tongue. She is in his lungs. Much too close, yet not close enough. ]

What? [ His voice is thick with an unexpected tenderness. ] I wasn't done.

[She kisses him, tasting herself on his lips.]

I just... [She doesn't know how to explain that weird almost panic; she's already lost where it sprang from.] I want to do something else. [The look she gives him is a little uncertain.]

Hm.

[ Sealing his mouth over hers, Hei shuts his eyes, trying not even to aim for self-satisfaction yet. Trying not to focus on the sharp twitches resonating across his cock, or to picture her dark-curled, slicked pubis again or to think of the rich taste of it. Instead he coaxes Korra's lips wider open with his, tongue touching the roof of her mouth over and over as if he is still licking her. Breaking the kiss, he rubs their noses together, his gaze fixed on her big-eyed, tentative expression. ]

Any suggestions?

[ He makes his body heavy on hers as he speaks. Stirring his hips, so his erection teases back and forth across the tuft of her mons, feeling the crinkle of curls and slick heat along the underside. He dusts hot biting kisses across her face and throat and breasts as he rocks against her -- a strained sort of patience. ]

[Well that's the problem. She hasn't actually thought of anything. Um. Um. Ummmm.....

She pushes him back so they're both sitting and she's straddling his lap.]

How about this?

[ The suggestion seems to please him. He gathers her in close on his crossed legs, folding hers around his hips. His cock bobs drunkenly at an angle between his belly and hers. Palm splayed across the back of her skull, fingers tangled in her hair, he draws her in for a kiss -- wet, hot, gulping. There's a tension, an edginess there that was firmly contained before. He wriggles one hand between them, slipping two fingers into the warmth welling between her legs. Teases the slickness along the underside of her breast, painting glistening swirls around the skin, then dips his head, laving it clean before he draws her nipple into his mouth. ]

[ This close, with her slippery-hot center open wide against him, a burning ripcurl surges up from his stomach. His teeth rake across her nipple, bathing it with his tongue and releasing with a pop. Gnawing the point of the other breast, he breathes, ]

What else? A guitar and serenade?

[ It's quietly teasing. His free hand is already reaching toward the low dresser drawer for the rubbers. ]

[She hums and laughs a little.]

No way. I've heard what you call singing... It's not exactly sexy.

[ Hei's expression settles into what he probably doesn't realize is a pout. But then his fingers close on a foil wrapper. He tears it open, and it's a precise movement, the way he rolls the rubber on. He briefly tightens his grip, and pumps himself once, with slow deliberation, heat pulsing through him. Then his hands cradle her hips like a catcher’s mitt, widespread and unwieldy, but stabilizing. Taking her weight in his hands, he raises her so her knees are slotted on either side of him, and she hangs poised above his erection. ]

[ As he lowers her down, drenched and melting and so hot, it's slow. The curve of his cock pushing past her seam, scraping her clit through the film of wetness, before driving inside of her. It fills her so completely that he feels his damp pubic curls sealing her closed. ]

[ Dots burst before his gaze in crazy red gnat-swarms. A faint tremor ripples through his body as his eyes flutter half-shut. ]

[He's pouting what oh no that is so cute. She tries to kiss him but he's kind of busy putting on the condom. The second that's done she presses her lips to his, practically inhaling him. She wraps her arms around his neck and digs her nails into his shoulders as he pushes in.

It feels so different like this. Not pinned beneath him, not trying to hold him down, just...together. Balance is a little wobbly but she can deal with that. It's more than worth it to have this feeling of being free and cradled close all at once.]

[ She kisses him, and Hei breathes in sharply through his nose, chest filling with air and Korra's scent. The room is relentlessly sun-drenched, and hot. But it is nothing to the shocking heat of Korra's skin. Everything feels like a strange mix of the new and known. Usually he dislikes being hampered in this position, robbed of leverage and control. But after a few moments he forgets about it. This moist drag of friction, damp skin on skin, face to face ... It's what he wants right now. The struggle, the pounding, seems unnecessary. He lets her wrap herself around him -- a fevery glowing stole. Whole body quivering with the pleasure of holding her like this. They seem to be melting together. It is delicious, his nerves jolting and flickering and his heart lurching drunkenly inside the cage of his chest. ]

[ He rocks against her with a metronomic slowness. Tight slick jabs, his pubic bone grinding against her mons, rasping at her clit. Right now, with that aura of fierce sunshine all around her silhouette, Korra's beauty strikes him like a physical blow. Makes something lurch inside him, as if he's caught in a dangerous undertow. ]

[Korra can feel her hair clinging damply to her forehead in strange patterns. She's keenly aware of every sensation -- not just the way he fills her, or the jabs against her clit, but the slick rub of his arms around her, the alternating patterns of warmth and chill as the curtains move, sometimes letting light in, sometimes blocking it. A bead of sweat trickles down and gets into her eye, making her entire face scrunch up. Probably not the most attractive expression.]

[ Not alluring, but definitely cute. One hand starfished across the small of her back, he combs the fingers of the other through her damp hair. Leans in to lick the sweat pooling in the bowl of her throat, mouthing away the salt. She even tastes like sun. It's strange, how he's become familiar with the unique taste of Korra's skin, even the small facts of emotion which are lost in the blue of her eyes if she so much as blinks. Every millimeter of her flesh produces a different taste and scent, subtly mingled like an exotic ratatouille. The earthy taste of agriculture seems to murmur under a zing of fresh adrenaline; a sweet whiff of shampoo swirls around the acrid spike of sweat; an intriguing hint of his cedar soap can be traced traveling down her nape, along her underarms. But mostly she smells of life, fresh life, as if she’s perspiring it constantly. ]

[ By degrees, he rocks harder. Back and forth, a relentless grinding pressure on her clit, then an occasional small side-to-side to stretch her entrance, letting her feel the warm solid flesh lodged inside her, stirring her up. ]

[ Biting at her earlobe, he laves his tongue along the shell, whispering, ]

Okay?

[She takes a shuddering breath and buries her head against his neck.]

Perfect. [She squeezes her muscles around him, rippling them to show her appreciation.]

[ She ripples around him, and Hei's breath hitches on an audible groan. He circles an arm tight around her, supporting her in the solid bulwark of his arms and chest, his long thighs wedged beneath her ass. The other hand coasts slow and caressing up her leg, along her flank. His palm is sweaty; he rubs it across one nipple, then the other, rolling and pinching. Gently cups the weight of each breast in his hands, kneading with light, warm fingers. Flush against each other, the heat of their bodies is a furnace between them, wet skin against wet skin, his cock a deep, prodding pressure inside her. ]

[ Mouthing the edge of her jaw, he rolls his head, lips seeking then catching hers. The kisses are like banter. No pattern; just a dizzying newness of phrases, his whole body alight with each sensation. The hard-soft pressure of teeth and lips seems to rise from somewhere deep inside him, juddering through his hips and fingertips and soft palate and curling tongue. The sharp nip and suck of her lower-lip says, This is good, but the waxing and waning of softness, the dreamy slide of lips, says, This is all for you. ]

[She's not quite sure how to react to that unspoken message. Later, the sensible part of her will wonder if she should believe it, knowing the way that he lies. Even now it strikes her as a little strange, for reasons she can't pin down. (Not being treated as a musical instrument? Or a child to be indulged? A pet to be played with?) But it makes her happy, too. She can feel herself hovering close to the edge, and fights to hold her climax back, not wanting this odd and precious moment to end yet.]

[ He's not sure if he can trust the emotion bubbling in him, either. He's always been a liar. That's all he knows. Like a cracked Russian doll: faces inside faces inside faces. Each one tailored to a specific situation -- so painstakingly crafted and detailed that it almost feels real, if only for a moment. But this ... This is something different. Ominous, even though there is no lightning strike to it. There is a dull and grim amazement, but no eureka scream. It isn't like the Reaper and his cold logic, his brutal calculations and moment of blank-eyed intensity before he makes the kill. No. This is like listening to an air raid with choking breath, as the bombs came crashing above and beyond you -- lighting up the sky and searing the air. Your heart throbs at each brilliant, shuddering boom. ]

[ Each time, you think, this will be the last. Each time, you are wrong. ]

[ He can feel the tension building inside Korra's body: all the little parts gathering momentum, energy coursing through her skin. It is like a giant muscle contracting before it flexes into action. Gathering her in crushingly close, his hips surge to bury himself as deep as he can manage. Jerking under her in hard short stabs now, the sounds of wet suction and sliding skin undercut by the ragged saw of his breathing, the blood pulsing thick and hot in his veins, in his skull, in flowering bursts of color behind his eyes, as he climbs and climbs. ]

[Korra feels something wet building around her eyes, and hopes it's sweat, not tears. It would be stupid and worse than pathetic to start crying because...what? He's fucking her like she's a person? She feels cared about and maybe possibly dares to hope that being in love with him isn't the worst possible decision she never even realized she'd made? Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. The word becomes a chant, falling into rhythm with his thrusts, turning into meaningless syllables in her mind as her climax builds, and then shatters as her body falls apart.]

[ Hei feels Korra's muscles rippling under his hands like a hot river. It almost feels like he can taste the South American jungle again, the steam and wild animal cries. Smell the water and blossoming heat. His heart is like a crazy starling flapping inside his chest. He wants to cry out but the sound is locked up somewhere under his lungs. ]

[ The sunlight slants in dusty beams, like rays falling through the stained-glass windows of an old cathedral. And in the glow, Korra is sweat-filmed and quaking, licks of dark toffee hair smudged across her eyes, such impossibly blue eyes -- her lashes gummed together into wet spikes, making him wonder if she's crying. She's been a cynosure ever since he's known her. Fighting or dancing, poised in solitary melancholy or surrounded by the people who care for her, she is brilliance, she is power. And then one day in a hormonal, booze-addled lapse, she'd let a blackened creature like him sink inside, past the surface shimmer, the blinding energy she wore like a breastplate. ]

[ Now, as then, Korra letting go is one of the most hypnotic things he's ever seen. ]

[ When he comes, it's with a convulsive gasp, his shoulders locking up like granite under her hands. For an infinite moment he shudders against her, eyes squeezed shut. Spending in short, sharp, jerky thrusts, and then, fiber by fiber, relaxing, sinking into the slick, sticky warmth of their tangled bodies, sweat and fading soap and the salty-sweet musk of sex. ]

[She melts against him, panting, her muscles trembling and weak. She kisses his shoulder and embraces the cozy fog of post-coital bliss. She loves these few short moments just after sex, when the endorphins are still running high and it's easy to believe that everything will be okay.]

[ Slumping back on the futon, Hei takes her with him so she's sprawled on his chest. His eyelids droop, a little smile on his lips. Sunlight streams through the skylight grid picking up the dust above their bodies. He lets the seconds tick by, enjoying how still everything is. Nothing but their own slowing breaths and the floating dust. For once, he's in no mood to spring up as soon as his breathing settles. Nestling her into his arms, he buries his head in her warm, sweet smelling hair. Presses gentle kisses to the clock of her face. His lips play with hers. One hand slips between her legs, sealing her tight with his palm as he cradles her -- a gesture that isn't tender so much as possessive. ]

[ It's a long moment before he nudges his forehead against hers. Almost catlike, except it's not playful. He's just checking her temperature. ]

You okay?

[She squirms a little at the touch between her legs and smiles at him.] Yeah. [Better than okay right now. Between the sex, the little gestures of affection, and the cuddling right, she feels... She feels happy. Really, truly happy.

She steals a quick kiss from his lips.] You?

Hmm.

[ It's an absent sound, more than denial or assent. Slowly, he licks his lips, tasting the salt and Korra-ness that clings there. He feels like he's swallowed tiny illicit pastilles of chemical happiness -- knowing, with time, the effects will fade. Reality and logic will encroach, as always. There is no instruction manual about how to go about life with a divided mind, a divided heart. How to be a proper companion to an Avatar, but to fulfill your own responsibilities back home. All those years in the frontline have only taught him how to lie, kill, betray, grieve, outrun, while negotiating the whims of fate like an imperious mistress who was off her rocker two-thirds of the time. ]

[ Swallowing, Hei shuts his eyes. His bones ache. Suddenly he wants to be alone, to think. ]

[ Gently, he extricates himself from Korra's moist delicious tangle of limbs. Slips off and knots up the condom, dumping it in the trash. When he twists to kiss her, it's long, slow, melting -- both an apology and a leave-taking. Drawing back, he nuzzles his nose lightly against hers. ]

Get some sleep, all right? I have -- [ Too much on my mind. ] Something to take care of.

[And just like that, something in him changes. Korra's heart sinks into her stomach. It's not like the times when his humanity shuts off, at least; there's nothing overtly threatening in his manner. He's still gentle, even attentive. But his mind has gone somewhere else, and it never goes anywhere good.]

Okay. [She runs her hand up and down his arm and presses one last kiss to his lips; whether to reassure him or herself, she doesn't know.]

[ It's like watching a shroud of dark clouds cover the sun. Her expression shades, the glow in her eyes diffusing. He wants to say something to reassure her, but what? Everything sounds so insipid. Artificial. Instead he resumes his clothes amidst a tinge of both sadness and relief. Another thing he isn't used to is offering simple kindness to Korra. A Contractor's version of kindness, sure; the I'll Kill Your Enemies type. But there is also the ordinary kindness, that two people who care about each other are supposed to show; give and take, share and share alike. It brings up a shame that crackles beneath the surface of his skin. He doesn't know how to do that -- not unless it's for a purpose. ]

[ Dryly, he swallows. Sinks into the kiss she offers, and he's not sure if he's trying to seek absolution or to distract her from her disappointment. ]

[ Keeping his gaze averted from hers, he slips into his shoes and coat. Forces himself not to glance back at Korra -- all rumpled and warm and beautiful, never anything less than beautiful -- as he steals out of the safehouse, and into the chilled sunlit streets. ]

[ He has a great deal of thinking to do. ]

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