[ Tacky, yes, like most of the hotels Underground -- but Hei is used to worse. At least it's not as over-the-top as the Rabu Hoteru in Tokyo, complete with theme rooms sporting Olympian baths and Americana kitsch. Hybrids between Disneyland and bordellos, those. He lets Korra's warm fingers curl with his as he scans the interior. The bedroom faces two walls that are made of window, the lamplight dim so their reflection against the glass won't obscure the twinkling view of the Circus Carnivore. Hei takes a moment to log the layout before appreciating the panorama outside. Only civilians wouldn't bother assessing their immediate space but gush over the scenery. Idiots. ]
[ In the bathroom, the white fixtures -- the whole damn bathroom is white white white -- are bright enough to hurt the eyes. The tub -- an enormous jacuzzi -- is in a smaller room that smells of cedar and vanilla. One wall here is floor-to-ceiling glass too, the shiny tiles of the floor inlaid with mosaic art nouveau designs, instead of the usual Grecian maidens playing lyres and froliking with satyrs. A small mercy. ]
[ All in all, nothing dramatically fancy. But it'll do. ]
[ Glancing at Korra, Hei raises an eyebrow, ] Let's try the tub out. [ He's only ever had sex once in a jacuzzi. (It was awful -- too many slippery surfaces and accidental bumps.) But in this case, he has more of a hot soak in mind. ]
[It actually reminds her of the Sato mansion in some ways. Which seems appropriate, since the underwear she's wearing seems much more Asami's style. She quirks a little smile, tinged with wistfulness, thinking about her long missing friend.]
I've never used a tub like this before. [Baths weren't a thing in the South Pole; it was too cold for them to be safe. When her bending training made them necessary, Korra would use her waterbending to very quickly wash herself off and just as quickly get dry again. In the warmer climate of Republic City, she got used to using bathhouses, and in the City she quickly adjusted to frequent showers. A private pool like this seems almost ridiculously decadent.]
[ The confession gets a raised eyebrow until he remembers: Right. South Pole. A mental image always comes to him in these moments, probably wildly inaccurate but vivid, of turreted igloos and sparse roads across a frozen tundra, a town of thickly-swaddled inuits guarded by wooden spires of boundary walls. He'll have to ask her for clarifying details at some point. To Korra, he says only, ] You'll doze off in a minute. It's just lots of gurgling and splashing.
[ Dimly, he thinks she'd have enjoyed the hot springs he'd once visited an age ago, in his own homeworld. Craters of lava rock, fed by a constant natural surge of hot water and sulfurous mist, out in Reykjavik. You could swim there even as the snow fell and the temperatures dropped to 0º C -- wonderfully warm, shrouded in mist, buoyed by the hot water. ]
[ He lets the tub fill as he steps out of his shoes, the tiles cool beneath his bare feet. He's long made his peace with physicalities, so there's no fuss to the way he undresses; he strips off his coat, his shirt, then sloughs off his jeans, clothes piled up neatly and set on the rack at the corner. In his shorts, he pauses at the bathroom doorway to regard Korra, ] Strip. I'll get drinks. [ Yes, he is deliberately ignoring all medical advice about alcohol in hot tubs. The small indoor bar -- stocked but likely obnoxiously pricey -- is nonetheless something he plans to make use of. ]
[ (The idea of what Korra might have on under her hoodie and jeans doesn't even occur to him.) ]
I didn't know putting me to sleep was on the agenda tonight.
[She'd start undressing herself, but she gets distracted watching him. She leans against the counter and admires the view, her eyes tracing scars both old and unfamiliar. She blushes a little when he's finished, a little embarrassed to be caught staring.]
Uh, yeah.
[He walks out and she tugs off the hoodie before leaning down to undo her boots. She'll be shimmying out of her jeans by the time he comes back.]
[ There's no snarky reply to her first remark. But Hei's half-smile treads the line between predatory and playful. Sleep isn't on the schedule tonight. He pretends not to notice the way her eyes wander; he's too comfortable with the physical edge of the spectrum not to know what he's got, or to be ashamed of it. It's not arrogance but matter-of-factness. His body is just another tool for the trade, but he has no vanity or impulse to cherish it (The opposite, really). ]
[ At the gleaming cart in the corner bar, he finds a dark bottle of syrah wine. (Maybe someone in the hotel has unplumbed depths?) He doesn't bother with flutes or broad-bowled glasses. Just uncorks the bottle -- repressing a wince at how similar the sound is to gunfire -- and returns to the bathroom. At the doorway, leaning shoulder against the jamb, he opens his mouth to speak -- but stops midway. Fuck. ]
Um...
[ Congratulations. The ensemble -- chosen by him but conveniently forgotten up until now -- nixes words. Rooted to the spot, he can only stare. ]
[Korra stops folding her jeans and straightens to look at him.]
Huh? Oh. [The underwear. She sets the pants aside and, for lack of anything better to do, puts her hands on her hips. She's never seen him dumbfounded before. It makes her blush and fills her with a tingly heat.]
[ Which is to say he only chose the ones he figured would suit her. He just wasn't prepared for how well. The dark blue lingerie is so lacy that he can half-see her nipples and the dark scrim of hair through the silk. The effect literally discombobulates him. He's always thought of her allure as something secret, something that gets lost in the zest and brashness of 18 year old gaucherie. Something you have to look hard at to perceive, where others -- maybe even Korra herself -- overlook it. The few glimpses of her in her usual plain-and-practical get-ups don't prepare him for the full effect of Korra in something more elaborate. She barely resembles the anxious scowly girl with the dangling hair and bright eyes he'd first met. ]
[ Swallowing, Hei steps forward. Whatever unflattering shock he feels at her appearance, he hides. Not her fault he was too closed-off to see her as beautiful instead of Cute. His fingers are light against her shoulders, torn between disbelief and wanting to trace his hands over the warm fabric, to find hotter climes. ] You look amazing. [ As far as compliments go, this is tepid. He's capable of more elaborate ones. But for now he simply takes her in, while all the blood abandons his brain to go straight to his groin. Melting on sight. ]
Wow. An actual compliment. [The sarcasm is a poor attempt to cover her pleasure. She doesn't often get that kind of compliment from anyone, least of all him. The rarity doesn't bother her -- all things considered, she'd rather get recognition for her skills -- but the novelty gives it a special shine.]
Thank you. [She reaches down to take hold of him. It's one part a show of appreciation and two parts taking advantage of an opportunity to rattle him more.]
[ From his vantagepoint, Hei glances down at the pretty dips of shadow in her collarbones and cleavage, and thinks how easy it'd be to sweep his hands down Korra's shoulders, catching the material of her lingerie along the way, bringing the garments down her wrists, her belly, her thighs and ankles in one smooth motion, exposing her completely. His half-smile goes from a little greedy, little sharp straight to -- ]
[ Jesus Christ. ]
[ His fingers tighten on the cool neck of the bottle. The free hand curves up her shoulder to her throat, feeling warm skin and the thub of pulse as his body reacts to her touch, lips parting, pulse skittering, though it's not quite how he wants this evening to go. Leaning in, Hei nips, a little harder than he has to, at her lower-lip, then continues his path down her neck with an edge of teeth, his hand dropping to curl around her wrist before pulling her hand away. ]
Tub, [ he murmurs. As in: The water's getting cold. As in: You're more distracting than I expected. ]
[The nip elicits a little sound of pain (that's more pleased than anything else). She's disappointed when he tugs her hand away. Soon.
For now, she reaches back to undo the clasp of her bra. She doesn't move to put any space between them as she slides it off. Tosses it aside and shimmies slowly out of her panties, close enough to feel the pulsing heat of his erection against her stomach.]
[ Watching her is more than temptation; it's edging into low grade torture. Hei lets her slip off the wisps of cloth before he steps out of his own shorts. Spanning his arms around her back, he pulls her in tight for a moment and squeezes hard, feeling her bare breasts against his chest, the heat of her belly against his erection and the slightly sticky feeling of their bodies rubbing together. The wine bottle is a hard cold press against the dip of her spine; he takes a long inhalation of her hair, noses along her jaw, biting her neck and shoulder, her scent somehow augmenting his hunger but comforting too. ]
[ How strange is it, to find himself in a place like this, with someone like her, at the same time his mind is dangling over the abyss, empty-hearted, empty-pocketed? Surreal. ]
[ Tugging her wrist, he guides her into the tub. The water is on the edge of scalding -- he tends to set the temperature too high. Sinking upto his shoulders, he sets her against him, back to front, his legs bracketing her on either side, her hair tickling his chin. His spine feels stiff, despite the hot rolling water, with a tension that vibrates inside. It's half Korra's proximity, half an inability to relax anywhere -- but this is good enough. ]
[ No candles or music, nothing romantic -- but calmly pragmatic, which suits him best. ]
[She gasps at the hard press of the cold bottle against her skin -- stark contrast to the heat radiating from Hei's body. She presses her head against his shoulder and twists to give him better access. The entire situation may be strange to him, but nothing seems particularly odd about it to Korra. Her perception of "normal" has been skewed by so many months in the City.
Then again, normal's just a word.
She pouts a little when he pulls back. He likes to do that, get her worked up and then abruptly switch to something else. (If asked, she'd say she prefers to keep things straightforward, but not-so-secretly she loves the teasing.) She follows him into the water eagerly enough, letting out a shuddering breath at the heat. She leans back against his chest and reaches out to wrap his arms around her waist. One of the bubbling jet streams hits her in a ticklish spot and she starts laughing and squirming.]
[ Normal is just a word, yes. But it's also a quality -- a vibe -- Hei catches in Korra, something he's experienced only a few times before, while he was with Pai. A sense of fitting. (Maybe that's what Korra's real talent is. It's what she does -- even to the worst, most depraved and fucked up of all of them -- she draws the normality out, like an illness your immune system has been holding at bay before collapsing.) ]
[ (Hei fights threats with blades, evasions, bombs. But he can't blow his head up, free this threat in a spray of confetti, if he wants to avoid the coward's way out. Worse, sometimes he doesn't even want to.) ]
[ Shaking it off, he takes a long drink of the wine. Enjoys the tart bite in his throat, forcing away his urge for something different -- something Korra-shaped, Korra-flavored. In the heated frothing water, she's all warm and slippery resting against his chest, and he almost feels his body succumbing to relaxation. Almost. Instead he tips a half-smile at her giggle, a wicked idea crossing him. ] Water jets, [ he says, and his fingers tickle briefly under her breast, before dipping lower. Beneath the surface, his hand explores, gliding up her leg, slipping between her thighs. Casually, he lifts her leg across his own to open her up, make more room. Lets the bubbling jet underwater ghost over her mons, stirring the curls and the point of her clit. ]
[ Barely there, but an unmistakable relentless pressure. ]
Hyng! [She lets out a strangled yelp as the jet stream hits her. She tilts her head up to "glare" at him.] No fair.
[Even so, she doesn't try to move away from it; instead she wiggles a little, trying to get closer, but there's only so close she can get while remaining both comfortable and connected. She reaches up to take out her hair pieces. She sets them aside and settles against him, lacing her fingers with his.
This is nice. She doesn't say it out loud, but it radiates from her.]
[ Her yelp bounces off the tiles, and when Hei looks down at Korra it's with something a little playful (and wholly dangerous) in his eyes. In his grasp, she's deliciously warm and soft, all curves and slick skin, the aggression and muscle in abeyance for a little while. Taking another sip of the wine, he lets it dance in his mouth. Sets the bottle near the tub's wide lip, then tips her head back to kiss her, passing a gulpful between them. She seems content enough -- not at the edge of a drowse, but blissfully replete. He's glad -- but taking advantage of her state of undress would be expected at some point. Strategic even. ]
[ Hei's not much of one for this -- quiet, languid moments of repose and inaction -- but it helps, knowing that at least Korra's under no illusions, that this is what it is without having to summon ideas like Future or Intimacy. (At least, he hopes she's under no illusions.) Pressing closer, enjoying the slide of wet skin on skin, he gnaws under the sensitive point of her jaw, moving down her neck to tease the skin where throat and shoulder meet. Squeezes their linked hands, and brings them up to her breasts. Sweet heavy breasts, round and full. (And sensitive -- the best part of a natural pair instead of silicone skin-sacks.) Holding her against him with his free arm, he lets their interlaced fingers knead the soft flesh, palm swirling softly on the nipple to make it pebble. ]
[ There's purpose in his caresses, but no urgency. He can carry on with this awhile unless she redirects his course. ]
Edited (forgets her tenses merrily) 2013-04-22 04:51 (UTC)
[Does "aggressively not thinking about it" count as not harboring any illusions? She knows there's no future in this; she knows she wouldn't want a future with him anyway. She wants a real relationship, with affection and clear expectations and honesty, as opposed to this torrid mess of lies and secrets. She doesn't know how to separate what she wants from what she needs, what she can demand from him from what he simply cannot give.
The funny thing is, she can handle being alone emotionally, but sex is a lot harder to give up.
So she doesn't think about it. She keeps her attention on the physical: the feel of his lips, the mild burn of the wine going down her throat, their linked hands working on her breasts. The urgent ache she felt at the door is gone. Exhaustion, hot water, and that little bit of alcohol have made her…not sleepy, but languid, and this is about as close to cuddling as they've ever been. She can't help taking advantage of it.
But eventually, the jet stream's teasing builds up a need that cannot be ignored. Still slow, almost lazy, she slides their paired hands down her body. She gently presses his palm against her before encouraging one of his fingers to slide inside.]
[ A relationship, if Hei were pursuing one at all, would be based on logic and convenience -- not reactionary emotional indulgence. His entire worldview, his expectations and experiences, everything has unfit him for true intimacy. Love, if it even exists, is like any emotion -- transient and malleable. It doesn't last. It isn't meant to. Certainly, he's never experienced what he did with his marks as love, much less as romance. To him, it was work. Fucks with colleagues were no different. Not love, or even respect. Just creating a level of communication between two strangers that they wouldn't have otherwise. Whatever smoothed the assignment along. Whatever got the job done. ]
[ Amber was his only exception -- a semblance of an actual relationship. One that proved to be a double-edged blade, stabbing them both in turn, leaving scars that ran bone-deep and still hadn't stopped aching. ]
[ Hei draws more tightly against Korra, his arm laid over hers, his face alongside hers, so he can see her rising excitement, the kittenish languor in her gaze. It's something to focus on instead of dropping headlong into ugly memories, or the chilling realization that Korra is so close to the age Hei was when Amber and he -- Stop it. His left hand splays across her belly, a possessive starfish. With the interlaced right hand, he strums her clit. One fingertip dips into her slick heat, several degrees higher than the temperature that surrounds her. Sliding and rubbing, once, twice again, again, finding that good spot, then coaxing her to climb with the whispering dance of his fingers. ]
[She closes her eyes and leans her head back, little whimpers and gasps providing the soundtrack of her climb. Her fingers guide him to some spots he hasn't discovered yet, that make her clench instinctively around him.
And then, with a little shuddering sigh, she tips over. It's not explosive, not the bolt of lightning she associates with climax. It's more like a sudden contentment. Like she's finished that desperate hike and can now enjoy the view. It confuses her a little, and the small part of her that isn't in a post-orgasmic fog worries about what it means.]
[ Hei's trained to see bodies as a network of weak-points -- in battle and otherwise. His fingers massage slickly around the spot she shows him, the steel jaws of memory trapping it away for future exploitation. He listens to the pretty reverberations of her cries off the tiled walls and ceiling; to the ambient sounds of the frothing water, bubbles forming and dying around him. Her wet tangle of hair brushes deliciously over his bare skin, and the hot water has done its work in tandem with Korra's warmth -- drawing the tension out of his limbs to center completely in his groin. He's sure she can feel his erection trapped against her back, thrumming to his pulse. ]
[ When she comes, quiet and shuddering as a repressed secret, it reminds him -- in a moment of almost-nostalgia -- of the way Amber would crest when she let him play with her breasts, a light skimming orgasm that offered temporary reprieve but ended nothing. His fingers carry on circling her, a gentle, ruthless caress, not ending the friction but easing off the pressure. ]
[ Leaning in, he licks her ear, and whispers teasingly, ]
[ Hei raises both eyebrows when she slips and goes under. Oops. When she resurfaces, giggling and sputtering, the water weighing down her hair to hug the shape of her skull, he shakes his head. ] Maybe those were a few sips too many. [ The tone of his voice is dry, though it's not really a valid complaint. He'd fared no better his first time in a tub than Korra. At least she didn't end up losing her footing and swandiving to hit her head with a spectacular crack on the tiles. ]
[ Reaching out, he smoothes the dripping water off her face. He was planning to lounge here a little longer -- at least until his fingers got pruned. But right now -- ] Let's get out before you break something. [ Like a tooth. Or his dick, maybe? ]
[She wags her finger at him.] It was one sip. That you gave me. And I'm not going to break anything!
[She scoots away from him to settle down on the opposite side of the tub. She wouldn't actually mind getting out, but Hei gets his way far too often, and she's tipsy enough on exhaustion and heat to want to do something about it. She makes a face at him even as she tangles her legs with his and gently rubs her foot against his erection.]
So you say ... [ Ah. At the pressure of her foot, he sucks in a breath. His hand reaches down to grasp her ankle, but as soon as he catches it, his grip turns into a caress. The crook of his mouth is more amused and knowing than weighed by any real sense of annoyance. It's too easy to lean back against the tub, to melt into her touch with a hum. Through half-shuttered eyes, he takes her in: the long lines and soft curves, her wet hair dripping and skin flushed from the hot water. In the glow of the overhead lamps, her eyes are so blue; he notices their color over and over. Startling. Like the sea in those commercials for Caribbean cruises. ]
[ It'd be tempting to loll here awhile, absorbing the friction of her touch and the sensation of wet skin of his, the water frothing around them in a languorous, insinuating susurrus. Instead he catches her by both ankles and yanks her close, lifting her to straddle him, his erection caught between their bellies. Because: Korra, from a distance, all nut-brown and delicious: good. Korra up close, kissing him: better. And with the tactile component. ]
[Her grin is smug. She likes that look on his face. She rubs harder, using her toes to tease the head. She nibbles a little at her bottom lip as he caresses her ankle.
He's lucky she learned quickly how to compensate for the slippery tub, or his tug would have sent her flying back under the water. She grabs his shoulders to keep her balance as he lifts her up.]
A little warning next time.
[She wraps her arms around his neck and leans forward to capture his lips. (She may or may not have muttered Jerk against his mouth.)
Reflexes getting rusty? [ His half-smile to Korra isn't beguiling so much as challenging. But it's more sincere as a consequence. At the end of the day, seduction is for marks and toys. Competition -- the rough and tumble -- is a requisite between playmates (not partners; he doesn't do those, even now). Skimming his hands down her sides, he presses her closer still, sealing all space between them. Makes a low purl in reply to her mumbled Jerk, his lips teasing hers, before his mouth widens into a kiss that's sudden and fierce, edging on filthy. ]
[ It's no longer the steam that's making his head swim and his breathing hitch. His hands sitting at her waist, he marvels at the smallness of it, the solidity of her body, before he runs his thumbs over her ribs, then higher, palms sliding along the warm skin of her breasts. Taking them in both hands, he presses them hard together. Breaks the kiss to dip his head and lick a hot zigzag between her nipples before tugging one into his mouth. ]
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[ In the bathroom, the white fixtures -- the whole damn bathroom is white white white -- are bright enough to hurt the eyes. The tub -- an enormous jacuzzi -- is in a smaller room that smells of cedar and vanilla. One wall here is floor-to-ceiling glass too, the shiny tiles of the floor inlaid with mosaic art nouveau designs, instead of the usual Grecian maidens playing lyres and froliking with satyrs. A small mercy. ]
[ All in all, nothing dramatically fancy. But it'll do. ]
[ Glancing at Korra, Hei raises an eyebrow, ] Let's try the tub out. [ He's only ever had sex once in a jacuzzi. (It was awful -- too many slippery surfaces and accidental bumps.) But in this case, he has more of a hot soak in mind. ]
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I've never used a tub like this before. [Baths weren't a thing in the South Pole; it was too cold for them to be safe. When her bending training made them necessary, Korra would use her waterbending to very quickly wash herself off and just as quickly get dry again. In the warmer climate of Republic City, she got used to using bathhouses, and in the City she quickly adjusted to frequent showers. A private pool like this seems almost ridiculously decadent.]
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[ Dimly, he thinks she'd have enjoyed the hot springs he'd once visited an age ago, in his own homeworld. Craters of lava rock, fed by a constant natural surge of hot water and sulfurous mist, out in Reykjavik. You could swim there even as the snow fell and the temperatures dropped to 0º C -- wonderfully warm, shrouded in mist, buoyed by the hot water. ]
[ He lets the tub fill as he steps out of his shoes, the tiles cool beneath his bare feet. He's long made his peace with physicalities, so there's no fuss to the way he undresses; he strips off his coat, his shirt, then sloughs off his jeans, clothes piled up neatly and set on the rack at the corner. In his shorts, he pauses at the bathroom doorway to regard Korra, ] Strip. I'll get drinks. [ Yes, he is deliberately ignoring all medical advice about alcohol in hot tubs. The small indoor bar -- stocked but likely obnoxiously pricey -- is nonetheless something he plans to make use of. ]
[ (The idea of what Korra might have on under her hoodie and jeans doesn't even occur to him.) ]
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[She'd start undressing herself, but she gets distracted watching him. She leans against the counter and admires the view, her eyes tracing scars both old and unfamiliar. She blushes a little when he's finished, a little embarrassed to be caught staring.]
Uh, yeah.
[He walks out and she tugs off the hoodie before leaning down to undo her boots. She'll be shimmying out of her jeans by the time he comes back.]
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[ At the gleaming cart in the corner bar, he finds a dark bottle of syrah wine. (Maybe someone in the hotel has unplumbed depths?) He doesn't bother with flutes or broad-bowled glasses. Just uncorks the bottle -- repressing a wince at how similar the sound is to gunfire -- and returns to the bathroom. At the doorway, leaning shoulder against the jamb, he opens his mouth to speak -- but stops midway. Fuck. ]
Um...
[ Congratulations. The ensemble -- chosen by him but conveniently forgotten up until now -- nixes words. Rooted to the spot, he can only stare. ]
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Huh? Oh. [The underwear. She sets the pants aside and, for lack of anything better to do, puts her hands on her hips. She's never seen him dumbfounded before. It makes her blush and fills her with a tingly heat.]
You've got good taste.
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Catalogue.
[ Which is to say he only chose the ones he figured would suit her. He just wasn't prepared for how well. The dark blue lingerie is so lacy that he can half-see her nipples and the dark scrim of hair through the silk. The effect literally discombobulates him. He's always thought of her allure as something secret, something that gets lost in the zest and brashness of 18 year old gaucherie. Something you have to look hard at to perceive, where others -- maybe even Korra herself -- overlook it. The few glimpses of her in her usual plain-and-practical get-ups don't prepare him for the full effect of Korra in something more elaborate. She barely resembles the anxious scowly girl with the dangling hair and bright eyes he'd first met. ]
[ Swallowing, Hei steps forward. Whatever unflattering shock he feels at her appearance, he hides. Not her fault he was too closed-off to see her as beautiful instead of Cute. His fingers are light against her shoulders, torn between disbelief and wanting to trace his hands over the warm fabric, to find hotter climes. ] You look amazing. [ As far as compliments go, this is tepid. He's capable of more elaborate ones. But for now he simply takes her in, while all the blood abandons his brain to go straight to his groin. Melting on sight. ]
[ Well. Other parts are the opposite of melted. ]
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Thank you. [She reaches down to take hold of him. It's one part a show of appreciation and two parts taking advantage of an opportunity to rattle him more.]
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[ Jesus Christ. ]
[ His fingers tighten on the cool neck of the bottle. The free hand curves up her shoulder to her throat, feeling warm skin and the thub of pulse as his body reacts to her touch, lips parting, pulse skittering, though it's not quite how he wants this evening to go. Leaning in, Hei nips, a little harder than he has to, at her lower-lip, then continues his path down her neck with an edge of teeth, his hand dropping to curl around her wrist before pulling her hand away. ]
Tub, [ he murmurs. As in: The water's getting cold. As in: You're more distracting than I expected. ]
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For now, she reaches back to undo the clasp of her bra. She doesn't move to put any space between them as she slides it off. Tosses it aside and shimmies slowly out of her panties, close enough to feel the pulsing heat of his erection against her stomach.]
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[ How strange is it, to find himself in a place like this, with someone like her, at the same time his mind is dangling over the abyss, empty-hearted, empty-pocketed? Surreal. ]
[ Tugging her wrist, he guides her into the tub. The water is on the edge of scalding -- he tends to set the temperature too high. Sinking upto his shoulders, he sets her against him, back to front, his legs bracketing her on either side, her hair tickling his chin. His spine feels stiff, despite the hot rolling water, with a tension that vibrates inside. It's half Korra's proximity, half an inability to relax anywhere -- but this is good enough. ]
[ No candles or music, nothing romantic -- but calmly pragmatic, which suits him best. ]
action;
Then again, normal's just a word.
She pouts a little when he pulls back. He likes to do that, get her worked up and then abruptly switch to something else. (If asked, she'd say she prefers to keep things straightforward, but not-so-secretly she loves the teasing.) She follows him into the water eagerly enough, letting out a shuddering breath at the heat. She leans back against his chest and reaches out to wrap his arms around her waist. One of the bubbling jet streams hits her in a ticklish spot and she starts laughing and squirming.]
Wh-what is that?
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[ (Hei fights threats with blades, evasions, bombs. But he can't blow his head up, free this threat in a spray of confetti, if he wants to avoid the coward's way out. Worse, sometimes he doesn't even want to.) ]
[ Shaking it off, he takes a long drink of the wine. Enjoys the tart bite in his throat, forcing away his urge for something different -- something Korra-shaped, Korra-flavored. In the heated frothing water, she's all warm and slippery resting against his chest, and he almost feels his body succumbing to relaxation. Almost. Instead he tips a half-smile at her giggle, a wicked idea crossing him. ] Water jets, [ he says, and his fingers tickle briefly under her breast, before dipping lower. Beneath the surface, his hand explores, gliding up her leg, slipping between her thighs. Casually, he lifts her leg across his own to open her up, make more room. Lets the bubbling jet underwater ghost over her mons, stirring the curls and the point of her clit. ]
[ Barely there, but an unmistakable relentless pressure. ]
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[Even so, she doesn't try to move away from it; instead she wiggles a little, trying to get closer, but there's only so close she can get while remaining both comfortable and connected. She reaches up to take out her hair pieces. She sets them aside and settles against him, lacing her fingers with his.
This is nice. She doesn't say it out loud, but it radiates from her.]
action;
[ Hei's not much of one for this -- quiet, languid moments of repose and inaction -- but it helps, knowing that at least Korra's under no illusions, that this is what it is without having to summon ideas like Future or Intimacy. (At least, he hopes she's under no illusions.) Pressing closer, enjoying the slide of wet skin on skin, he gnaws under the sensitive point of her jaw, moving down her neck to tease the skin where throat and shoulder meet. Squeezes their linked hands, and brings them up to her breasts. Sweet heavy breasts, round and full. (And sensitive -- the best part of a natural pair instead of silicone skin-sacks.) Holding her against him with his free arm, he lets their interlaced fingers knead the soft flesh, palm swirling softly on the nipple to make it pebble. ]
[ There's purpose in his caresses, but no urgency. He can carry on with this awhile unless she redirects his course. ]
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The funny thing is, she can handle being alone emotionally, but sex is a lot harder to give up.
So she doesn't think about it. She keeps her attention on the physical: the feel of his lips, the mild burn of the wine going down her throat, their linked hands working on her breasts. The urgent ache she felt at the door is gone. Exhaustion, hot water, and that little bit of alcohol have made her…not sleepy, but languid, and this is about as close to cuddling as they've ever been. She can't help taking advantage of it.
But eventually, the jet stream's teasing builds up a need that cannot be ignored. Still slow, almost lazy, she slides their paired hands down her body. She gently presses his palm against her before encouraging one of his fingers to slide inside.]
action;
[ Amber was his only exception -- a semblance of an actual relationship. One that proved to be a double-edged blade, stabbing them both in turn, leaving scars that ran bone-deep and still hadn't stopped aching. ]
[ Hei draws more tightly against Korra, his arm laid over hers, his face alongside hers, so he can see her rising excitement, the kittenish languor in her gaze. It's something to focus on instead of dropping headlong into ugly memories, or the chilling realization that Korra is so close to the age Hei was when Amber and he -- Stop it. His left hand splays across her belly, a possessive starfish. With the interlaced right hand, he strums her clit. One fingertip dips into her slick heat, several degrees higher than the temperature that surrounds her. Sliding and rubbing, once, twice again, again, finding that good spot, then coaxing her to climb with the whispering dance of his fingers. ]
action;
And then, with a little shuddering sigh, she tips over. It's not explosive, not the bolt of lightning she associates with climax. It's more like a sudden contentment. Like she's finished that desperate hike and can now enjoy the view. It confuses her a little, and the small part of her that isn't in a post-orgasmic fog worries about what it means.]
action;
[ When she comes, quiet and shuddering as a repressed secret, it reminds him -- in a moment of almost-nostalgia -- of the way Amber would crest when she let him play with her breasts, a light skimming orgasm that offered temporary reprieve but ended nothing. His fingers carry on circling her, a gentle, ruthless caress, not ending the friction but easing off the pressure. ]
[ Leaning in, he licks her ear, and whispers teasingly, ]
And all you had were a few sips of alcohol.
action;
Shut up.
[Now it's her turn. She tries to tug herself away, get enough room to take hold of him. But she underestimates how slippery the tub is.]
ACK!
[She slips and slides under the water, coming back up a moment later, coughing and laughing.]
action;
[ Reaching out, he smoothes the dripping water off her face. He was planning to lounge here a little longer -- at least until his fingers got pruned. But right now -- ] Let's get out before you break something. [ Like a tooth. Or his dick, maybe? ]
action;
[She scoots away from him to settle down on the opposite side of the tub. She wouldn't actually mind getting out, but Hei gets his way far too often, and she's tipsy enough on exhaustion and heat to want to do something about it. She makes a face at him even as she tangles her legs with his and gently rubs her foot against his erection.]
action;
[ It'd be tempting to loll here awhile, absorbing the friction of her touch and the sensation of wet skin of his, the water frothing around them in a languorous, insinuating susurrus. Instead he catches her by both ankles and yanks her close, lifting her to straddle him, his erection caught between their bellies. Because: Korra, from a distance, all nut-brown and delicious: good. Korra up close, kissing him: better. And with the tactile component. ]
action;
He's lucky she learned quickly how to compensate for the slippery tub, or his tug would have sent her flying back under the water. She grabs his shoulders to keep her balance as he lifts her up.]
A little warning next time.
[She wraps her arms around his neck and leans forward to capture his lips. (She may or may not have muttered Jerk against his mouth.)
action;
[ It's no longer the steam that's making his head swim and his breathing hitch. His hands sitting at her waist, he marvels at the smallness of it, the solidity of her body, before he runs his thumbs over her ribs, then higher, palms sliding along the warm skin of her breasts. Taking them in both hands, he presses them hard together. Breaks the kiss to dip his head and lick a hot zigzag between her nipples before tugging one into his mouth. ]
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