[ Hei lets his forehead rest against Korra's shoulder, quietly snuffing the humid aroma of her, letting her combing fingers make tufts of his hair. Just sagging there, a lewd tableau of two bodies connected at a fulcrum point of wet, twitching heat. And when the tension melts, he's too breathless for gentle kisses. Instead he noses her neck, nuzzling the warmth behind her ear, before he straightens and steps back. A moment to tie up and discard the condom, and then he sets his clothes to rights. Already he's feeling the chill on his exposed flesh, the sweat of their exertion drying. Around them, the fans whirr in an industrial din. It's almost unbearable -- but somehow it's better than examining the dizziness, the unfamiliar skitterings of something in his chest. ]
[ Without meeting Korra's eyes, he scrubs a hand through his hair. Kneels to scoop up her jeans, the lacy bit of underwear, before depositing them in her lap. ]
no subject
[ Without meeting Korra's eyes, he scrubs a hand through his hair. Kneels to scoop up her jeans, the lacy bit of underwear, before depositing them in her lap. ]
[ Quietly, ]
We should get going.