[Korra takes the condom, suddenly a little nervous. It feels strange in her hands. She doesn't try to put it on him yet; overtaken by curiosity, she starts unrolling it on her fingers. (She may need a little direction at this point.)]
[ Hei lets her puzzle the condom out for a moment. In any other circumstances, the way she studies it, bright-eyed and curious as a child with a hanayama puzzle, would be amusing. But the fabric of his patience, always threadbare, is threatening to rip at the seams right now. Before she ends up rolling it in the wrong direction, or too far down its length, he takes over. His hands cover hers; he guides her not with words but with a straightforward demonstration, the way he'd been taught so many years ago. Shows her how to determine which way the condom rolls by using her fingers. How to settle it over the head of his erection, pinching the tip shut, then carefully rolling the rubber down his shaft, smoothing any air bubbles in an offhand motion. ]
[ Once it's fitted in place, he murmurs, only slightly breathless, ] See? Just a brain -- and a working pair of hands. [ Stretching his neck forward, he nips at her lower-lip, teasing, ] Occasionally, sobriety is also a plus.
[Straightforward demonstration -- just the way Korra likes it. She takes in the lesson and files it away.]
I'm not the one always reaching for the liquor bottle. [murmured against his lips, both teasing and true. She shifts, taking hold of him and positioning him at her entrance.]
[ Hei pinches her hip, hard enough to squeeze a sound out of her. ] I'm not the one who barely needs a sip to be three sheets to the wind. [ The archness of the remark is undercut by the way his breath sharpens, the ridges of ribs defined against his skin as she guides him toward that slick place. His palms settle at her waist, fingers clutching, gathering her closer as he rocks his hips under her. A slip-side, a push, a moment of slippery resistant pressure -- and smooth as slipping into a dance, he sinks up into her, feeling her stretching exquisitely around him -- a sweet shudder and a shock of Ohhhh. ]
[He's rewarded with an indignant sound that is perilously close to a squeak, and whacks his shoulder.]
Not true!
[He thrusts up into her and further protests fly from her thoughts. She lets out a shuddering breath and leans over, her arms resting on his chest, her head buried against his shoulder.]
[ The sensation as she sinks all the way down makes his whole body flare. Licks of fire leaping up his spine. He arches up under her to meet her warmth, fingers no longer digging, but splaying across her back, encouraging her to dip over him. He gnaws under her jaw, her hair tickling his nose as he inhales the spicysweet scent of faded shampoo and Korra hiding beside her nape. The warm weight of her bearing down on him, covering him, diffuses all extraneous thought and leaves him with the right now, the curtain of her hair everywhere and her heated breath on his skin. ]
[ Eventually, his lower-lip set against his teeth to stifle sounds, he grips her hipbones, and shows her how to move. Not up and down, but back and forth, as if on a rocker. Slowly, at first, guiding her hands to settle on his chest for leverage. Then, as he finds a pleasing angle, moving his own palms up her ribs to her breasts, squeezing them together. Lolling against the pillows, his look is libidinously dark-eyed and indulgent, the faint traces of a smile pressed in kisses to her mouth -- one after the other. ]
[She focuses on her breathing, timing each breath to match the rocking of her hips: slow and steady. Her body is sticky with sweat, both hers & his, and she suddenly thinks I'm going to need a shower after this. Which makes her think of the time they (almost) had sex in a shower. She wonders if they should try that again. Wonders if they'll have to leave here when they're done, or if they'll fall asleep back to back like before.
Then he squeezes her breasts and completely derails that train of thought. Her fingers curl, nails digging into his chest, as she punctuates each kiss with little moans and sighs.]
[ For once Hei isn't thinking that far ahead. The moment wraps him up in a warm contented cocoon -- enough to hedge in his default urge to chart out the next series of steps. Each time she rocks forward, against appreciated angles, he responds, moving his hips in a figure eight motion, stomach grinding stomach with a slick and rhythmic friction. Slow and steady -- never his usual way where these encounters are concerned. But then, girls like Korra aren't his usual preference either. Being with her is an exception that proves an otherwise ironclad rule -- and, in turn, requires an equally exceptional patience on his part. ]
[ The noises he exhales are muted as always -- raspy and syncopated between breaths coming in jittery intervals. Kneading her breasts, plumping them high, he lets the nipples catch between pinching fingers, then, as he leans forward, biting teeth. Clear sweat beads along her skin like grape-clustered stars -- he laps at it, letting his tongue explore the hollow at the base of her throat, feeling her pulse beat there. ]
[He'll feel her pulse thrum erratically, racing and skipping with his every touch. Korra moans against him and sinks her teeth into his shoulder. She rocks, clenches, squeezes, bites harder with every thrust.]
[ The bites eke a hissed noise out from between his teeth, just at the edge of a curse. As she rides his lap, rocking her hips faster and squeezing her muscles, his arousal ratchets up to a deep simmer. Letting his head roll against hers, her hair tickling his cheek, Hei pushes up harder under her, short grinding jabs in time to her cries, to the hitches in his own pulse. He's holding her tight now, his hands splayed wide around her ribs, supporting her, restraining her from going faster than she has to. ]
[ Too much movement feels superfluous right now. He'd much rather absorb that wet rhythmic nip of her muscles, the way they make his pulse skitter and his eyes flutter shut. Much rather keep her -- and himself -- on the fringes of a burn before the tension strings too tight to be restrained anymore, everything combusting into a bright-red flare. ]
[Korra pushes against him, trying to loosen his grip, whining in frustration as she fails. It's not that she doesn't want to savor it; she's just so used to their encounters being hard and fast, a dizzying rush to the finish line rather than this leisurely stroll. If her thoughts weren't drowned out by pleasure, she'd be confused. Why the gifts? Why the hotel instead of his apartment? Why the hours of foreplay and now this languid connection?
She may not have the awareness to put these questions into words, but they come through her touch, in the way she finds and bites at the throb of his pulse, the way her nails claw across his chest.]
[ On one level, it's selfish. The package was a peace-offering to circumvent questions. The hotel: ditto. On another level, he's trying, in his own roundabout way, to test the so-called virtues of patience in a sphere beyond manipulation. It's not too different from how some young men try out different speeds on a sportscar. That, and he's grown almost fond of Korra -- or just her body, maybe. It offers an incentive to treat her like a living thing instead of a void to eject all his frustration into. ]
[ (That, and the bloodbath and violence of that last weekend is too fresh in his memory. He's not against the idea of a respite -- a palliative of slowness instead of his usual bang-and-burn dash.)]
[ Hei hums lightly at the rake of her nails and teeth. There's a question bubbling in each touch, but right now his mind -- like his body -- is lazy and overheated with the slow build of sensation. Spanning her closer with one arm, he gathers her hair out of the way, glancing past the tight nipples and slope of belly, her skin a dozen colors in the lampglow, to where she takes him in. Sinking down, bit by bit, then back up in a slick sweep. (Next time, he thinks hazily, I'm fucking her in front of a mirror. ) ]
[ Nudging his mouth against hers, he worries her lower-lip with his teeth while he slips a hand between their bodies. The pad of his thumb finds her clit, barely circling -- not forcing her to the edge but kicking the heat up a few notches. ]
[His teasing nibbles reopen the cut on her lip, smearing a thin trail of blood, and she hisses. Her bruises are throbbing and her muscles are burning from the prolonged exertion. (If she'd known they'd be doing this tonight, she wouldn't have pushed herself so hard in training this morning.) A part of her can't help thinking Come on!]
[ Hei tastes the blood on his tongue, a smudge of metallic rust, but despite the murmur at the back of his mind that's equal parts Unhygienic and Risky, he licks the taste from the corners of her mouth with an unrepentant purr. The moment is enjoyable for how languorous it is, but now he lures her closer against him. No longer restraining, but surging up under her, tight short strokes, his low gasps building toward a rhythm timed with his movements as his thumb rubs harder against her slick clit. ]
[ His look is dark-eyed and dreamy, but somehow silent as space, as if he's hanging in an ether between freedom and exquisite restraint. ]
[Finally. She might have groaned that against his mouth.
The look in his eyes disconcerts her just a little. It's not that frightening detachment he gets sometimes, but she doesn't know what to make of it. She clenches around him and drags her nails hard down his chest, leaving a trail of angry red marks on his body, trying to drag him back down with her.]
[ The hot red furrows her nails leave in his skin are tame in comparison to the games he's used to. But that's not a complaint. Pain mixed in with softness -- somehow both of them hurt like a bitch, but tonight he needs that mutability. His thumb circles tight between her legs and Hei can no longer control his ragged breathing, the way she clenches around him. His free hand digs into the jut of her hips, the pads of fingers giving just as good as she does -- her body will be a canvas of bruises when this is over. ]
This is -- [ He doesn't mean to speak, and bites the sentence off on a grunt, burying his mouth in her neck, too far gone to finish. This is better than a brawl. They're pressed too close now, torso to torso, sweat gluing their skins together. He keeps his eyes closed, taking a mental snapshot of the moment. Each breath, each motion, a sipping sigh, a wicked slide, thaws a cold inside him, opens what's been locked up. ]
[ But he's not sure if it's a relief or a disquiet. ]
Hm? [She's surprised to hear him speak, and distantly curious what he'd been going to say. But the building pressure in her body doesn't leave much room for words. She nibbles playfully on his ear.]
[ Hei shakes his head -- denial, dismissal, mouthing a half-breathless, Nothing into the crook of her neck. His fingers dig deeper into her hips as he leans in to bite at her mouth, punctuating the kiss with a light flicking to her clit. He's moving in a rhythm that's all urgency now, trading air between them in a heavy percussion of pressure and friction. Challenges to the gravity of centrifugal force. With every thumping pulse an echo to the sharp twitches of tension coiling through him -- a handspan away from snapping apart. ]
[He's rewarded with little whimpers, almost begging. She tangles her fingers in his hair and pulls hard. She wants to push him over that edge, feel him shudder and break beneath her.
He's gotten her off three times tonight, and she's only gotten him off once. This is unacceptable.]
[ Old habits (selfishness) die hard, and in this case Hei's too near the edge to bother with niceties like mutual pace and satisfaction. She yanks his hair and he makes a sharp noise, like his breath's being torn from his throat. It's not just the sting of it that goes straight to his groin but but the way Korra sounds, all breath and tiny mewing pleas. His head tips back against the pillows, and he bites his bottom lip as hard as he can to keep himself quiet. For a split second his face opens, a brief spark, years and distrust slipping away, replaced by ... ]
Fuck.
[ Whatever it is, he hides in the sweaty hollow of Korra's shoulder. Gripping her hips in both hands now, he jerks up under her, tipping into the inexorable blood-red climax, his whole body tensing on a long shudder. He doesn't make a sound, but his stuttered breathing is telling enough, as he lets the last shocks burst inside him, shake him, then ripple away. And as they do, he allows his boneless body to collapse underneath her, to be finally, dizzyingly still. ]
[The pressure of his release isn't enough to tip her over the edge, but the tension in his body and his staggered breathing is pleasure enough. She rocks slowly, easing him through to the end of his climax, until he melts beneath her. She can feel the sharp ache of her own desire recede like the tide.
She doesn't roll off of him right away. She likes cuddles, and she can't resist taking advantage of his exhaustion to just rest against him. She wraps her arms loosely around his neck in an almost-hug. But she doesn't want to push her luck. She savors it for just a moment and then rolls off of him. She lies on her shoulder, watching his face with a little twitchy smile. She rests a hand on his stomach -- not quite a hug and not quite a cuddle, but it serves the same purpose.]
[ Hei's hair sticks damply to his eyes and forehead. He combs it back with his fingers, letting a palm rest on his face so no light can get in, while his breathing settles into that lazy in-out of frazzled contentment. He makes no sound of either protest or approval when Korra rolls off him, but he lets her pillow her head in his shoulder. Lying this close to him, she can probably see his eyes peeking out from between his fingers, half-lidded with drowsiness, fixed on nothing out of sated softness. ]
[ The temptation to fall asleep is very real. But after a few moments he shakes the Sandman's dustmotes off his mind. Stretching to work the kinks from his muscles, his sits up, Korra's hand a warm little weight on his stomach. He squeezes it for a moment, running a thumb over the knuckles, then gently pushes it off. While he's vaguely sure she didn't cross the finish-line with him, he's never been one to ask, Did you come? If she wants his attention she'll let him know. Right now, mind defragmenting to its original mode, he has a condom to get rid of, and maybe room service to order. ]
[Oh, stretching. That is an awesome idea. Once he gets up, she takes the opportunity to do a full body stretch -- the languorous, delicious, slept-forever kind of stretch -- then she sits up for some more serious stretching. She almost laughs at how many bruises cover her body. It's a good thing the weather hasn't gotten too warm yet, because she has no idea how she'd hide them in her preferred tank tops. (Good thing too she isn't probending either, she thinks as her muscles complain.)
She contemplates getting out of bed and taking a quick shower. She's sticky and sweaty and more than a little gross. But the bed is too comfortable. When her legs are sufficiently stretched out, she falls back against the pillow and let out a contented sigh.
Questions and insecurities will return soon enough, but for right now, she's happy enough to keep them at bay.]
[ Catching sight of Korra arching like a cat on the bed, Hei fights a slight smile, and a bubbling uncharacteristic urge to just laze with her a moment more. But his feet are already propelling him upright and out of the bed. In the bathroom, the bright fluorescent lights hurting his eyes, he locks himself in. He senses that there are reams of awkward things Korra might want to ask him later, but right now he's in no mood to handle that. Already, with each step away from her, the chill and distance is descending. It's a sad feeling but somehow also necessary -- as if that prior weekend, cursed and unfettered, has shaken all the bits of his armor loose, and he needs to retreat to the privacy of his own mind to reassemble them. ]
[ In the mirror he's all eyes, with dark rings around them. It hits then, like a knife to the gut -- he can see all the faces in the white tiles around him, their whispers pressing in, an indistinguishable wave encroached by a bitter nausea within. Hei shuts his eyes, because he doesn't know how to suffer scruples, how to dissect right from wrong in a bath of self-interest and endless hours to think. It's all too new and confusing, and makes his head ache. ]
[ In the shower, he turns the water up deeply cold, turning his face up to the high pressure needles. Gasps, swallows some with thirst, coughing, and lets it beat against his face. Cleaned up, towelled dry, he waits until his face is as blank as his thoughts, before he steps out. Avoiding Korra's eyes, he makes a beeline for the phone, lifting it off its cradle. His voice is businesslike. ]
[He doesn't have to worry about avoiding her eyes. While he had been showering, Korra had burrowed under the blankets. She's been up for somewhere around 21 hours, and by the time he's out of the shower, she's two-thirds asleep.
Which is fortunate for both of them. She stirs when he speaks, but exhaustion keeps her from registering the blankness in his expression and the detachment in his voice.]
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[ Once it's fitted in place, he murmurs, only slightly breathless, ] See? Just a brain -- and a working pair of hands. [ Stretching his neck forward, he nips at her lower-lip, teasing, ] Occasionally, sobriety is also a plus.
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I'm not the one always reaching for the liquor bottle. [murmured against his lips, both teasing and true. She shifts, taking hold of him and positioning him at her entrance.]
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Not true!
[He thrusts up into her and further protests fly from her thoughts. She lets out a shuddering breath and leans over, her arms resting on his chest, her head buried against his shoulder.]
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[ Eventually, his lower-lip set against his teeth to stifle sounds, he grips her hipbones, and shows her how to move. Not up and down, but back and forth, as if on a rocker. Slowly, at first, guiding her hands to settle on his chest for leverage. Then, as he finds a pleasing angle, moving his own palms up her ribs to her breasts, squeezing them together. Lolling against the pillows, his look is libidinously dark-eyed and indulgent, the faint traces of a smile pressed in kisses to her mouth -- one after the other. ]
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Then he squeezes her breasts and completely derails that train of thought. Her fingers curl, nails digging into his chest, as she punctuates each kiss with little moans and sighs.]
action;
[ The noises he exhales are muted as always -- raspy and syncopated between breaths coming in jittery intervals. Kneading her breasts, plumping them high, he lets the nipples catch between pinching fingers, then, as he leans forward, biting teeth. Clear sweat beads along her skin like grape-clustered stars -- he laps at it, letting his tongue explore the hollow at the base of her throat, feeling her pulse beat there. ]
Re: action;
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[ Too much movement feels superfluous right now. He'd much rather absorb that wet rhythmic nip of her muscles, the way they make his pulse skitter and his eyes flutter shut. Much rather keep her -- and himself -- on the fringes of a burn before the tension strings too tight to be restrained anymore, everything combusting into a bright-red flare. ]
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She may not have the awareness to put these questions into words, but they come through her touch, in the way she finds and bites at the throb of his pulse, the way her nails claw across his chest.]
action;
[ (That, and the bloodbath and violence of that last weekend is too fresh in his memory. He's not against the idea of a respite -- a palliative of slowness instead of his usual bang-and-burn dash.)]
[ Hei hums lightly at the rake of her nails and teeth. There's a question bubbling in each touch, but right now his mind -- like his body -- is lazy and overheated with the slow build of sensation. Spanning her closer with one arm, he gathers her hair out of the way, glancing past the tight nipples and slope of belly, her skin a dozen colors in the lampglow, to where she takes him in. Sinking down, bit by bit, then back up in a slick sweep. (Next time, he thinks hazily, I'm fucking her in front of a mirror. ) ]
[ Nudging his mouth against hers, he worries her lower-lip with his teeth while he slips a hand between their bodies. The pad of his thumb finds her clit, barely circling -- not forcing her to the edge but kicking the heat up a few notches. ]
action;
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[ His look is dark-eyed and dreamy, but somehow silent as space, as if he's hanging in an ether between freedom and exquisite restraint. ]
action;
The look in his eyes disconcerts her just a little. It's not that frightening detachment he gets sometimes, but she doesn't know what to make of it. She clenches around him and drags her nails hard down his chest, leaving a trail of angry red marks on his body, trying to drag him back down with her.]
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This is -- [ He doesn't mean to speak, and bites the sentence off on a grunt, burying his mouth in her neck, too far gone to finish. This is better than a brawl. They're pressed too close now, torso to torso, sweat gluing their skins together. He keeps his eyes closed, taking a mental snapshot of the moment. Each breath, each motion, a sipping sigh, a wicked slide, thaws a cold inside him, opens what's been locked up. ]
[ But he's not sure if it's a relief or a disquiet. ]
action;
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He's gotten her off three times tonight, and she's only gotten him off once. This is unacceptable.]
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Fuck.
[ Whatever it is, he hides in the sweaty hollow of Korra's shoulder. Gripping her hips in both hands now, he jerks up under her, tipping into the inexorable blood-red climax, his whole body tensing on a long shudder. He doesn't make a sound, but his stuttered breathing is telling enough, as he lets the last shocks burst inside him, shake him, then ripple away. And as they do, he allows his boneless body to collapse underneath her, to be finally, dizzyingly still. ]
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She doesn't roll off of him right away. She likes cuddles, and she can't resist taking advantage of his exhaustion to just rest against him. She wraps her arms loosely around his neck in an almost-hug. But she doesn't want to push her luck. She savors it for just a moment and then rolls off of him. She lies on her shoulder, watching his face with a little twitchy smile. She rests a hand on his stomach -- not quite a hug and not quite a cuddle, but it serves the same purpose.]
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[ The temptation to fall asleep is very real. But after a few moments he shakes the Sandman's dustmotes off his mind. Stretching to work the kinks from his muscles, his sits up, Korra's hand a warm little weight on his stomach. He squeezes it for a moment, running a thumb over the knuckles, then gently pushes it off. While he's vaguely sure she didn't cross the finish-line with him, he's never been one to ask, Did you come? If she wants his attention she'll let him know. Right now, mind defragmenting to its original mode, he has a condom to get rid of, and maybe room service to order. ]
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She contemplates getting out of bed and taking a quick shower. She's sticky and sweaty and more than a little gross. But the bed is too comfortable. When her legs are sufficiently stretched out, she falls back against the pillow and let out a contented sigh.
Questions and insecurities will return soon enough, but for right now, she's happy enough to keep them at bay.]
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[ In the mirror he's all eyes, with dark rings around them. It hits then, like a knife to the gut -- he can see all the faces in the white tiles around him, their whispers pressing in, an indistinguishable wave encroached by a bitter nausea within. Hei shuts his eyes, because he doesn't know how to suffer scruples, how to dissect right from wrong in a bath of self-interest and endless hours to think. It's all too new and confusing, and makes his head ache. ]
[ In the shower, he turns the water up deeply cold, turning his face up to the high pressure needles. Gasps, swallows some with thirst, coughing, and lets it beat against his face. Cleaned up, towelled dry, he waits until his face is as blank as his thoughts, before he steps out. Avoiding Korra's eyes, he makes a beeline for the phone, lifting it off its cradle. His voice is businesslike. ]
...Hungry?
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Which is fortunate for both of them. She stirs when he speaks, but exhaustion keeps her from registering the blankness in his expression and the detachment in his voice.]
Hm?
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