[ 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.]
[ A sense of relief creeps over Hei when he sees her half-asleep. It circumvents any awkwardness for one. For another ... He's aware of that cool look on his face slipping away, replaced by something mild and fond, even if it's dulled. There are certain things -- maybe too many -- about Korra, that evoke Pai. The ease of motion. The form, seen in the dark, where the different build and skin tone are less obvious. The disorder of her dark hair. The bright eyes, half-lidded and drowsy. Settling on the bed, by her shoulder, he experiences something almost like affection. Her sleepy murmur lets him take liberties. Like smoothing his fingers -- very gently -- through her hair. And leaning forward to touch his cool lips to her warm forehead. ]
Nothing. [ He can order up and eat by himself. Reheating leftovers is always an option later -- when he wakes her up for another go-round. Because he will. In the meantime he cards a slow hand through her hair, murmuring, ] Get some sleep. [ He's too wired to follow her. But he's well-acquainted with the vicarious satisfaction of watching someone sleep in his place. ]
[She hums contentedly as he strokes her hair, her lips twitching a sleepy smile at the press of his lips. She snuggles deeper into the pillows (so very soft compared to her own, which won't do any favors for her neck but right now feels amazing) and drifts deeper into sleep.
She wants to say Wake me up before you leave, knowing his tendency to vanish, but she's unconscious before the words reach her lips.]
[ When her breathing descends into slumber, Hei slumps, by slow degrees, at the foot of the bed, leaning forward on his knees and raking both hands through his damp hair. It's better this way, the dim lights and the twinkling view from the window, Korra's quiet inhales and exhales in the background. Let her sleep her hopeful sleep. He has enough on his mind in the meanwhile. Better for the insomniacs -- or maybe just the maniacs -- to leave those who can still rest to get on with it. ]
[ (He won't wake her up when he leaves, no. But there'll be a ballpoint message scribbled on her arm in the morning -- You kick a lot in your sleep -- and a covered tray of cold food on the dresser.) ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action;
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;
action;
action;
He's gotten her off three times tonight, and she's only gotten him off once. This is unacceptable.]
action;
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. ]
action;
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.]
action;
[ 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. ]
action;
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.]
action;
[ 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?
action;
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?
action;
Nothing. [ He can order up and eat by himself. Reheating leftovers is always an option later -- when he wakes her up for another go-round. Because he will. In the meantime he cards a slow hand through her hair, murmuring, ] Get some sleep. [ He's too wired to follow her. But he's well-acquainted with the vicarious satisfaction of watching someone sleep in his place. ]
action;
She wants to say Wake me up before you leave, knowing his tendency to vanish, but she's unconscious before the words reach her lips.]
action;
[ (He won't wake her up when he leaves, no. But there'll be a ballpoint message scribbled on her arm in the morning -- You kick a lot in your sleep -- and a covered tray of cold food on the dresser.) ]