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[mortemscintilla]

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⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ If Hei notices, he doesn't say anything. ]

[ If he wanted to, he could follow this lull through and craft into a moment of deception. He could tell her -- You can trust me. I won't let anything happen to you.. And even if that's as close as BK201 gets to instinct, he knows it's disingenuous. Korra has never pulled any such tricks on him. She's always has been sincere, and Hei's willing to offer her at least a fraction of the same sincerity. ]

[ It's then that he leans in, closes the distance between them. His breath plumes up between their faces, warming her cheeks briefly before the air chills them again, and he carefully touches his mouth to hers. It isn't a kiss: more a butterflied touch of parted lips, like he's trying to share heat and breath. After a moment, the hesitance - except that's not what it is; it's like dipping a finger in water to test the temperature -- he turns it into a kiss, hot and hungry and openmouthed, the press of his palm insistent at the side of her neck. ]

[ Between their mouths and his fingers on her pulsepint, Korra may as well be administering a polygraph. This is honest. This is real. ]

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[anatural]

[The kiss doesn't take Korra by surprise; a part of her has seen it coming since he first touched her face. Her heart still skips (a chemical reaction) and she lets the coffee fall (she hadn't cared for it anyway). It splatters on the ground, pelleting her legs with bites of heat easily ignored. She wraps her arms around his waist and presses closer.

She returns his kiss, but it's not passionate so much as it is receptive. Willing, not eager. Her heart is too detached for real desire, but it feels nice and right now she'll take any distraction.]

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ Distantly, Hei registers Korra's coffee sloshing to the floor. Well, whatever. In an economy of motion, he sets his own cup on the empty table adjacent to them. Then his hand spans across her waist, pulling her closer. Fingers of the other hand wrapped around the back of her neck, thumb stroking under her jaw to angle her mouth just so, he kisses her harder, and thinks Stop, you fucking idiot and Oh I missed this. ]

[ The mouth, the body, he's grown used to them, but in that exciting Want More way, not in a bored way. Even after the decision to drop her like a bad habit, all of that is still inside him, messing him around. It feels so good but through that cut of want there's a sharp spike, too, of concern for her. It feels like such an ordinary thing that, later, it'll make him feel pathetic. Human. ]

[ Since when does BK201 care about someone else's feelings, after all? ]

[ His teeth barely scrape along her lower lip as the kiss ends, gently tugging at it before letting go. He feels her willingness, but also her detachment, and it makes him wary despite his selfish lust, like a suffusion of ink in water. ] Tell me something, Korra [ he asks, and it sounds like he's negotiating a business model rather than preparing to invite her to bed. ]

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[anatural]

[Korra has missed this too. Any other time she would be frantic, needy, burning, but right now pleasure and want are dim & distant things.

She looks up at him, her eyes cloudy.]

What?

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei doesn't draw away. Just lets his fingers skate through her hair, nails light on the nape of her neck. Under the harsh tang of hospital air and dried blood, she smells the way he remembers. Sweet, and somehow also wild, a scent he will forever associate with wilderness -- that freshness of winter and a spark of cut grass. Her body feels good too, curvy but strong, and that shape, in his arms, along with her scent, floods his mind with a jumble of conflicted wants. ]

[ He fights it off. Struggles to maintain rationality. Now is no time to lose his head. ]

When we get back to my place. I want to take you to bed. [ Ordinarily he's blunt enough to say I would like to fuck you. But he has a suspicion that might come off as too barbaric. No lie, fucking is his word of choice, and being barbaric has its high points. But there are moments when it shouldn't be referred to as what it is. ] Tell me now if that bothers you. If it does, I won't touch you again. We'll just go back, and you can shower, drink some tea, and crash on the couch.

[ Even if she agrees to the sex, it's her prerogative to change her mind -- during or after. He knows trauma is a lot like alcohol. Too much of it, and you make the shittiest choices. Intimacy can mean something one day, and something else the next. ]

Re: ⊕ march 15th, late evening

[anatural]

Okay. [Her wording is ambiguous but her consent is clear. A part of her is almost surprised he's asking. He's acting like she didn't know that's what he wants, but what else have their kisses ever led to?

And she does want it. Not like she usually does, with physical ache and burning need. But she wants the distraction and the comfort, more than a shower and tea can provide.]

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ All their kisses have ever led to is fucking, it's true. But it seems masturbatory -- predacious -- to coax her to bed when her mind is half-unmoored. Sex is so laughably easy. Nearly mindless -- he's long since learnt how to use it as a tool for distraction, for blossoming false sentiment and solidifying false trust. But in the morning after, clarity can be like seeing a crackhead up close. Not that fucking attractive. ]

[ If Korra gets hit with a case of retro-cringe, at least he'll have the You knew what you were getting into card in play. ]

[ She says Okay, and he nods briefly before threading his arm through hers. Steers her through the predawn streets, quiet as a thief. It's only a short distance to his flat. He fishes out his keyring in the chilly hallway, and opens the door to usher her in.. All around them, the apartment is silent -- it drips with silence. As if it's suspended, from the street, from the City, maybe from the whole cosmos. ]

[ When he touches her arm, Hei feels hazy-heated, a kind of reined-in hot-eyed greed. But his tone is measured, his gaze calm as he regards her bloodstained clothes. ]

You'll need a shower.

Re: ⊕ march 15th, late evening

[anatural]

[Korra doesn't notice the distance; all thought has been suspended. What attention she has is focused on the physical - his arm holding hers, putting one foot in front of the other. She hardly notices when they reach his apartment until they're inside.

When he speaks, she looks down. Right. She's still covered in Chekov's blood. It had become such a part of her, she'd forgotten it was even there, can't imagine it being gone.

She's more distracted by the change in his apartment.]

You got a pet.

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei follows the direction of her gaze. The lizard -- whom he hasn't yet named -- slinks off to an alcove in its cage with reptilian indifference, tail swishing. ] It helps with the ticking. [ And it only took him seven months to condescend to admit it. Woohoo. Progress. Personally, he's bemused she noticed the pet at all. But he knows Korra is eager for any distraction. The terrible grief hovers around her like a raincloud; Hei knows it can't really be bypassed. Sooner or later the numbness will fade and she'll have to experience it. ]

[ Quietly, he steps up behind her. Holds her lightly by the elbows, as if they're going to slip into a slow back-to-front dance. Lowering his head, he presses his lips to the nape of her neck, through her hair, just at the border where fine down turns to soft skin. ]

Come on. Let's get you cleaned up.

[ It's not entirely a prurient interest. He knows what'll happen once she's alone with nothing but a mirror, bloodsplattered clothes, and her whirling thoughts. ]

Re: ⊕ march 15th, late evening

[anatural]

[Her eyes drift shut with a soft exhale at the touch of his lips. She's curious about the lizard - Li never struck her as the pet type - but not enough to push. She leans back into him, and it's not resistance but an indication that she'll go where he leads. She's leaving herself in his hands.]

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ Leaving herself in his hands, as if she has absolutely no remote idea that he'd once made her death his priority. She knows, of course she does, but exhaustion and despair make her forget. Holding her so close makes him want to forget it too. Broken rafters -- damaged people -- are Hei's specialty. But he's usually one who causes the damage. Not the one cleaning it up. ]

[ There's a strangeness in this scenario that's as novel to him as it is for her. ]

[ In the bathroom, he directs her away from the mirror. Lowering the toilet lid to perch there, he tugs her closer by her hips. Undresses her with steady fingers; bottom to top. He can untie her boots with one hand while he tackles his own with the other. It's only a moment before he's dropped both pairs heavily on the tiles. Skinning down her blood-stiff jeans, he slides his palms up the outsides of her legs, ankles to hips, his thumbs resting on the jut of her hipbones. He kissed each ridge, feather-light, then rises, his hands still splayed there. Kisses her mouth, a soft pressure, a softer tongue -- warmth but no spiking heat. Not yet ]

[ Under the nurse's top, her undershirt is caked in dried blood. He peels it off carefully, before shedding the rest of his own clothes, and tosses the ball of wrinkled things into the laundry basket. It's not consideration, so Korra isn't reconfronted with the bloody garments if she returns to the bathroom. It's years of training, to dispose of the evidence linked to a crime scene. ]

[ In the shower, he steps behind her, not quite touching. Reaches past her head, and the spray comes on -- cold at first like a slap, then hotter. This close, her body is beyond pedestrian, beyond ignorable. But he tries to think clinically, tipping her head forward into the water-stream, his fingers combing through her hair. ]

Re: ⊕ march 15th, late evening

[anatural]

[She rests her hands on his shoulders as he undresses her, both for balance and just for the sake of contact. Her skin burns where he touches her, palms and fingers and lips, and her limbs tingle as though they're starting to wake up.

It hurts.

The first shock of cold water makes her shiver, and even when the water warms, she can't stop shaking. The cold has eaten into her bones, in a place the water can't reach. Only his fingers, running through her hair, seem to break through.

She can feel his erection against her. She reaches back to brush her fingers against it.]

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ In the hot spray, Hei can feel her soft shape, beads of water rolling down her body, conducted with electric clarity against him. Sharp-toothed hunger suffuses him, tailed by keener heat as her fingers brush against his erection. His breathing shifts, not ragged but a shade out of sync. He lets her touch him for a moment, before he catches her hand in his. Gently squeezes her fingers, bringing them in front of her. ]

[ Slowly, he pressed himself closer, all the way down, feet bracketing hers, his erection trapped between their bodies and his arms laid over hers, warm face alongside her own. His skin is simmering; his heartbeat practically pulsates through the steamy air. ]

[ But he keeps his tone measured, ]

Don't distract me.

[ As if she isn't distracting enough. But the way she shakes is unnerving. So rattled, so full of cracks, like a glass that might shatter at a high note. He doesn't bother with the washcloth. Just soaps up his hands and applies them to her body. Careful, meticulous, the joint of his thumbs rubbing deep into each joint, back then front, up and down, aiming for deep-tissue relief and scrubbing the blood off more than anything. Once she's clean, he lathers her hair, his fingers digging with vigorous force into her scalp. ]

[ All the while, his body sings at a disturbing voltage. It'd be easy, so easy, to snug up tight against her, slide into her with one stroke, no condoms, no preliminaries, forcing her up on her tiptoes under the shower's hot spray. ]

[ He shuts the fantasy off. Now isn't the time to get over excited. ]

Re: ⊕ march 15th, late evening

[anatural]

[Korra exhales softly when he pulls her hand away, equal parts disappointment and pleasure. The instinct to do, to act, is still alive in her, if distant and buried. But it's easy enough to ignore and let his hands work all over her. She leans back against him, whimpering sometimes in pain and sometimes in bliss as he digs into the knots in her muscles.

At length her shaking stops, though her knees feel weak. Desire builds up, hot enough to burn through her numb shell. It's a good thing Li has his head together, because if he tried to slide into her right now, she would let him. Anything to feel something other than pain.]

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ It's not long before Hei has rinsed the suds from her hair, and shaken the soap off his hands. He's far from squeaky-clean himself, but it's hard to prioritize step A to step B when your blood-flow has shifted south. Those soft sounds, the way she feels -- it's too insanely inviting. His own breathing is growing a little deeper, but like all his early reactions it's too subtle to pinpoint. ]

[ He reaches to turn the spray off, but doesn't quite make it. (He'll think later about how he would've gotten her toweled and warm and out of the stall, if only he'd put space between them.) If he hadn't pressed tight behind her, his hands on her shoulders, his mouth questing through her wet hair. But once that happens he can't help the greedy shiver that runs through him, can't help breathing her in. Sweeping her hair back, he puts his mouth on her neck, sucks on the flesh, gently first, then hard enough to blossom a bruise. Breaks to lay soft kisses in a circuit along her hairline, to her earlobe, her jaw, finally tipping her head so that her mouth is right there to feed on. ]

[ There's hunger in the way he kisses her now. A bright flare of insistence. ]

[ Holding her against him with one arm, he caresses her body with the other hand. Cradling and kneading each breast, rolling the nipples until they're tight and springy. Stroking her belly, the sensitive skin high up on her thighs, before slipping two fingers through the wet tangle of curls between them. He teases her. Not deep, just circling her clit, starting a slow and easy massage, not wanting the water to wash all that slick away. ]

[ Bit by bit, his control is slipping. Not gone, but jittery. ]

Re: ⊕ march 15th, late evening

[anatural]

[Korra gasps, stiffening against him as he bites her neck and presses his lips along her hairline. When he reaches her lips, she returns his kiss with equal hunger. Her hands grab onto the arm around her, her nails digging into his skin and she bites his lip hard.

The hand on her breast the draws out soft cries that get progressively louder as he works down her body.]

Please. [She doesn't know what she's begging for, only that she's aching with need.

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ A groan oscillates low-loud in Hei's throat. Her kisses have the same burning edge of want as his own, and the bite of her nails, the sounds he draws from her, are all vibrant with encouragement -- it's okay, it's good, keep going. The friction from her body assumes the only place in his consciousness. And when she says Please, he thinks, Fuck it. So much for restraint and strategy. ]

[ Without warning he spins her to face him, crowding her back against the tiled wall. One thigh up between hers, pinning back her hands. Under the spray of hot needles, his hair is plastered to his face in inky vines, the steam bringing a flush to the rise of his cheeks. He presses himself tight against her, with urgent stirring motions. Kisses her; hot sips deepening to possessive gulps, all teeth and tongue. ]

[ He knows he's not going to be up for much in terms of foreplay or playfulness tonight. Even his patience has its limits. His heart already feels like a gong resonating through his body; he's vibrating all over for her. But despite it he can't help but treat himself to a little taste. ]

[ Sinking to his knees, he takes her in: dripping hair and flushed wet skin. Leans forward, and kisses one breast, then the other, weighing them in his hands. Worries the nipples with his teeth, a mixture of soft and hard bites. Dipping lower to bite her belly, he lags his tongue across her navel, then down further, fierce kisses pressed in a circle all around around her moist mons. ]

Korra -- [ One palm sliding to her lower-back, a steadying influence against the slippery skin, he nudges her thighs apart with the other, leaning in ] If I don't get you off in the next ten minutes, feel free to [ he mouths the words right along the vee of her thighs, at the seam where skin meets slick heat ] punch me. Or something. [ Which is, in itself, an unfamiliar offer. His usual mantra is I'm done. You have two hands to get yourself off by yourself. How deeply time can warp priorities. ]

[ Then, without ceremony, he leans in, mouth hot and open, licking a long wet stripe right up the length of her. ]

Re: ⊕ march 15th, late evening

[anatural]

[Normally this is the point where she would demand to flip the tables. Being pleasured is nice, but pleasuring is power. A part of her still wants to wrestle control from him and mark her way down his body. Prove that she's capable of doing something positive.

But she's still frightened of herself, even more than after she had killed those ghouls. With the ghouls, she had at least had the comfort of saying that she had been protecting others. Her ability to kill was terrifying but still ultimately under her control. She doesn't trust her control after what she did to Chekov. She still doesn't really believe it was a curse, but even if it was, that still means she isn't safe to be around. Isn't someone to be trusted with power.

Water from the shower head runs down her face, getting into her eyes and nose and mouth. When he releases her hands to kneel, she fumbles to turn it off. She can't see the handles, can hardly concentrate with the way he bites her breasts and belly. She finally grabs one as he envelops her in the wet heat of his mouth; she gasps and twists the handle, more out of instinct than choice.

The water abruptly increases in pressure and temperature, hot enough to hurt. She cries out in pain and frantically turns it in the other direction.]

I'm sorry! I'm so sorry.

[She grabs onto his shoulders to keep from falling to her knees and continues to stammer apologies. Her voice is thick with tears, out of proportion to her offense, that seem to be coming out of nowhere.]

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ In the end, it doesn't matter how monstrous Korra thinks she is. In terms of atrocity, Hei is miles ahead of her, and there's no closing that gap. That doesn't make the situation any less bleak. Or make what he and Korra are doing any less transient. But he knows that caution and doubt and guilt flashing through Korra's mind is familiar, and that has to count for something. ]

[ (He still remembers feeling lost and broken after Heaven's War, but picking himself up anyway in the aftermath of it.) ]

[ There's a muted gasp and a sputter when the water goes from hot to scalding. Unexpected, but Korra probably doesn't realize that's a temperature Hei prefers. He jerks back, spitting slightly, swiping the water off his eyes. The upward glance he flicks at her is undeniably wry. ] All right. So pressured schedules aren't your thing.

[ The mild amusement fades at her expression, at those frantic apologies. Shit. He gives her a a quick kiss below her navel, right above the hairline. Rises to turn the water off, before gathering her in. The steam is so thick it feels like he’s inhaling and exhaling through a wet blanket. There's a hum of want still in his muscles, like a live wire pooling low in his groin, and it's -- it's so fucking frustrating. But being with Korra is about patience and carving out space where there is none. ]

[ He steps closer, tracing out her spine with his fingertips. It's a language of almost-tenderness Hei uses when he wants something; it's almost never sincere. Except now. Taking her face in both hands, he gently kisses her temples, each eyelid, the tip of her nose. Presses another kiss to her mouth, tasting water and salt on the tip of his tongue. (Strange, that it's a taste he's beginning to associate with her) He doesn't ask if she's okay. Instead: ]

Let's get you dried off. All right?

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[anatural]

[She's trying so hard - so very, very hard - not to cry, but it's a lost battle. He's worn down her defenses with hot water, gentle touches, and hungry kisses. She clings to him, hiding her face against his chest as though trying to disappear. She doesn't want to fall apart in front of him, hates being this open and weak.

She hasn't cried like this since she first arrived, sobbing into Bolin's arms. Thinking about him makes her cry even harder. She tries to hold it in and breathe, but the effort just makes her choke. When he suggests drying off, she nods, coughing too hard to speak.]

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei draws her out of the shower, feet dripping puddles on the tiles. Leans her against the sink away from the foggy mirror. He doubts she'd want to look at her reflection, and he's not in a mood to meet his own eyes and see whatever emotion -- or lack of it -- is there. Instead he looks down at their paired bodies -- his skin a paler brown in contrast to hers, only the head of the penis tinged with pink, hers more varied, smooth and burnished under the water rolling off her, a centerpiece of hard-edged want and hazy-soft focus. ]

[ Once again, he marvels at the surrealism of time. Somewhere along the line, she's forgotten to be shy with him. ]

[ Wrapping her in the towel, he starts drying her off. Towels her hair into a damp fluffy nest, before scrubbing himself off briskly. Her eyes are still moist with tears; she reminds him of that little girl again, stunned by a sudden fall. Without a word, he swings her up, and carries her out. In his bedroom he turns on that clacking radiator in the corner, and tugs down the bedspread, before depositing her on the mattress, half sprawled on her, still cradling her against him with one arm. ]

[ His eyes are dark and half-lidded; he feels as if all his weight is centered in his erection, trapped between their bellies. Yet somehow the intense throbbing is easy to ignore in favor of the soft openmouthed kisses he presses to her mouth. ]

Re: ⊕ march 15th, late evening

[anatural]

[She hasn't forgotten to be shy around him; she just doesn't have a choice. Her pride isn't strong enough to hold back the tears, or to protest when he picks her up. She clings to him shamefully while he carries her to bed.

She wishes he had just left her on the roof, frozen and numb and tearless. She feels like she's never going to stop crying. It makes it impossible to do anything -- she can feel his erection pulsing between them, wants to touch it, bring this situation back to something familiar, but she's paralyzed with uncertainty.

Even her kisses are distracted, half-hearted. They seem to say I'm sorry.]

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ Her kisses taste like salty contrition. The room feels like a cauldron, bubbling her misery to the wildest heights. Hei's first instinct, the knee-jerk, is to snap, Stop it. He wants to tell her she's taking this too hard -- there's nothing to apologize for when the crime hasn't been committed (there's a vital clause of Free Will that's absent here). But he doesn't say anything. Instead he blots her tears out in a series of kisses. All around the clock of her moist face, eyelids, chin, cheeks and finally the lips, pressing deeper and deeper. ]

[ Each one on the fringes of a crackle-&-burn that he hopes spells out You've done nothing wrong. ]

[ He can taste her tears sliding between their fused mouths. His whole body is overheating for her, but he keeps it going, keeps her pinned. Each kiss slow, languid. Excruciatingly intense. He wants to impart that message into her with total concentration, lick a wordless assurance into her mouth. Not stopping until he feels the tension go out of his own body, ratcheting to a simmer, not a boil. Not until, a few minutes later, he's almost calm, the barest touch of his lips on hers, sharing inhales and exhales, as his hands make soothing sweeps along her body. ]

[ When he draws back to look at her, finally, he is dark-eyed, lip-swollen. His hand moves up to cup her jaw, thumb ghosting across her cheekbone like a kiss. ]

....Korra?

[ There's a question, quiet and heated, in his tone. We can stop and We can keep going. ]

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[anatural]

[It's a long time before her tears finally stop. Less because she's calm and more because she's exhausted. Her throat is raw and her mouth tastes like it's full of sand. Her entire body feels weak. She can feel the reassurance in his every touch, but it's hard for her to believe it. Not on the heels of the fight she & Chekov had. Not when she can feel Li's agenda throbbing between them.

She hears the offer in her name, and finds that hard to trust as well. Despite what others may think, she does know Li, and that he rarely does anything that doesn't benefit him in some way. When she's gone to him for comfort before, he's gotten something out of it.

She doesn't want to be left alone if she says she wants to stop.]

I need some water.

[So instead she says "pause." She pushes herself up slowly, intending to slide out of bed and get something to drink. Either that will give her the time to feel ready for sex again, or she'll have pulled herself together enough to handle being alone.]

⊕ march 15th, late evening

[mortemscintilla]

[ I need some water. Everything about Hei stills as the words float into the air. His eyes close, and in a surprising fit of boyishness, he keels slowly over, to bury his head in the pillow. Then, with a deep Christ-give-me-strength breath, he lifts his head. Remembering she's wrung out and dehydrated. Remembering this is still her choice. His grip loosens, and he breathes in measured exhales as he sits up with her. ]

[ Ignoring, all the while, how his arousal has descended to a harsh miserable ache. ]

[ Still, it's only a moment before he's gathered his thoughts. He can read people with unnerving accuracy, and Korra exists within a clear divide of transparency. She doesn't just want water. She wants to pull herself together, and he can respect that. But at the same time, she's shying away. Suspicious of him and his intentions. He can't blame her. Despite his sympathy, his willingness to play nice, he's operating on that single-minded determination that spikes when he wants something. On top of it, he's always been volatile, especially with her, and Korra often doesn't know what face of his he'll show. ]

[ Of course she's formed a habit of wariness around him. ]

[ Hei absorbs these facts with a sense of acceptance, if not eagerness. But he doesn't draw away. He slides behind her carefully, and gathers her hair back. Traces his lips along her spine, feeling the way the vertebrae fit together. Murmurs, into the crook of her shoulder, ] Whatever you need. [ Not entirely sincere. But not a blatant lie, either. Hei isn't used to thinking in terms beyond me and mine. But that doesn't mean he's incapable of allowances. ]