Ugh! [Well at least she's not choking on it this time. And she manages to close her eyes in time to make sure nothing gets in them. But YUP, it sure is all over her. She makes a face, one third disgusted and two thirds hideously amused.]
Why are guys so messy? [She wipes her face and looks around for something to actually clean herself up with.]
[ Blinking his eyes open, Hei has trouble sitting up at first, partially due to the effects of the cake, partially the strange residual echoes of the orgasm. He seems surprised by the outcome. Usually it's at how little time it had taken. But right now he's more surprised that he'd lasted that long. His balance feels off and he tries to focus on Korra, who seems to be bobbing around like a boat on a rough sea... or perhaps it's him. Shaking his head, he reaches for the tissuebox on the table. Daubs at the mess on his skin and thighs, then tries to help her clean up, before letting her do it herself. Sighing, he collapses, satiated and strangely empty. ]
[ To her question: ] We're not the only ones. [ Although his tone is more sleepy than argumentative. ]
[ Hei doesn't pay Korra much mind; just stretches out across the couch instead. A wave of fuzziness creeps at the corners of his vision; it's an effort to move his mouth. ] Whenever we're done fucking, that flood between your legs isn't mine. [ It's clear from his expression -- half-lidded, almost-smiling -- how little he minds that fact. Reaching out -- his hand feels like a slab of meat -- he threads his fingers into her hair. Tugs her closer, enough to press a drowsy kiss at the corner of her mouth. ]
It's also not in your hair. [Stubborn but still happy. She lets him tug her in and kiss her; afterwards, she climbs on top of him, threading their legs together, rocking herself against him.]
[ Arcing up against her, lazy and boneless, Hei splays the flat of one hand against the small of her back. Slips the other hand between their bodies, into the unbuttoned gape of her jeans, cupping her with a palm while his fingertip catches her clit between the curls, stroking with a light, slick friction. He wants to roll her beneath him, to kiss her mouth and breasts, wants to spread her thighs wide and taste her, but there's such a deliciously heavy tangle of limbs, and he sighs, too hot and tired to struggle against them. Eventually, he hooks his thumbs into her beltloops, skinning the jeans down her thighs. ]
Sit up. [ Murmured against her throat, her sternum, just before he rights her. Taking her hips until she's crawled up the length of his body, he sets her kneeling over his head, taking her fingers and curling them around the ornate brass of the arm-rest. Not a position he usually goes for; face-sitting is impractical and a little messy, especially if you dislike being smothered. But laziness trumps any and all effort. ]
Hmmmm. [She hums, rocking hard against his hand. She doesn't want to move, not sure what exactly he's planning, but she reluctantly disengages herself and resettles near his head.]
[ But his grip on her hips is firm, keeping her at the angle he wants. For a moment he stares up, past the swathe of belly, the undersides of breasts and erect nipples, the dangling ends of her hair, blinking slowly at the uncertain look in her eyes, before he offers a faint smile. This position's a little awkward and ridiculous. But he enjoys the sight of her this way -- skin lit up in crystalline colors from the slanting rays of lamplight, her sex laid open, the damp curls glinting. ]
[ Tugging her closer, he turns his head and dots tiny bites on her inner thighs, one side and then the other -- soft and sharp alternately. Leans in and plants delicate kisses along her slick seam, before tightening his grip on her hips, pulling her down onto him firmly. When his mouth opens against her, tongue flickering, it's with a hum -- greedy and satisfied in equal parts. ]
[She gasps, thrusting herself hard against his mouth. Her knuckles are white against the arms of the couch. She's trembling and aching, all of the need she'd held at bay while bringing him off suddenly overwhelming her.]
[ Hei chuckles at the imperious demand, the sound rumbling against her open wet flesh. But he doesn't obey right away. Holding her hips in his hands, he kisses her there at first, over and over, as he kisses her mouth, with sloppy measured slowness. He can feel her shuddering, and his hands slide down her thighs, urging her knees helplessly wider, the muscles taut and quivering. It's a surreal sort of decadence. Keeping her legs splayed wide, he licks and sucks, nibbling on one slick lip, then another. His tongue slips here and there, up and down, side to side, in and out. Both hands resting flat on her hipbones now, the thumbs pulling her open. Looming over him, she's deliciously exposed. And just delicious. ]
[ He's more patient than usual. Devouring, but not like the cliche of a starving man. More with the enjoyment of one who knows his table. But until she's done -- until he's tapped into that simmering geyser in her, let it burst once, maybe twice -- he's not planning to let her go. ]
[She growls, struggling to tighten her legs around him, a punishing grip. The hash is wearing off -- or perhaps her greed has just overwhelmed the drug. Her skin trembles and colors flash behind her eyelids.]
[ In Hei's case, the hash has burnt out a while ago. Eerie phantasms of sensation still drift in and out of his consciousness -- an antenna picking up lost frequencies. But what envelops his focus is Korra. He doesn't just taste her. He consumes, his mouth drawing her in, piece by piece. The skin of her thighs is smooth against the sides of his face, solid muscle against his ears; he hears everything at a muffled pitch, as if underwater. Ignoring her growl, he licks her all over, carefully. Draws her inner lips into his mouth and sucks on them, teasingly slow, before he starts to play with her clit, worrying it with the tip of his tongue. He can feel her tension ratcheting, winding higher and higher, but he doesn't relent. He keeps going, slow and hungry, his hands pulling her tighter against his humid mouth and swarming tongue. ]
[ When he senses she's close, he draws her clit between pursed lips, at long last, in one strong, drawn out suck, relentlessly inhaling her in and out until he's pulled her over the edge. ]
[It's true that Korra probably wouldn't enjoy sex with him nearly as much if he didn't play these games with her, but that doesn't stop her from almost moaning I hate you I hate you I hate you as she rocks her hips harder against him. She comes with a loud, shuddering scream.
[ Hei isn't so absorbed by her sounds, or the movements of her hips, that he doesn't register the craaack. ]
[ When she's nearly ceased to shake, he lets her flop back to lie beside him, wiping the slick from his chin and dragging in lungfuls of air. Korra's the one who just came, but it's Hei whose whole body feels wobbly. Must be the drug. Sitting up, half-propped on an elbow, he regards the broken arm with a quirked eyebrow. ]
[Korra collapses on the couch, struggling for breath. At first, she doesn't even register he's speaking. Her body is tingling and glowing and she's more than ready to go fuck it and demand cuddles, but he's already sitting up.]
Huh?
[She stares blankly at the arm for a long moment before realization hits.]
[ Ordinarily, the next step in Hei's mind wouldn't be cuddles, but sex. Except, studying the broken couch-bit, he wonders if they've been in the club far too long. It seems to be a trademark with him and Korra. In the span of one hour, cause as much destruction as possible, and piss off nearly everyone you meet. So far they've filled both quotas swimmingly. ]
[ Reaching out, he curls his fingers around her hand, coaxing her to drop the broken piece of furniture. ]
Relax. They'll send a bill later.
[ After all, damaged furniture is the least of a nightclub's expenses. ]
[Let's be real -- the next step in Hei's mind is pretty much never cuddles. Korra's plan, if you could call it that, was to cuddle until he got hard again and then let the fucking begin, but the broken furniture's pretty much put a hold on that.]
I can't afford to pay for this! [Shit, she feels like Mako, but it's true. She's seen how much couches cost.] I'm still paying the hospital and my old boss and we've got all the pets to feed --
[She's changed quite a bit in the City, going from a girl who didn't really understand the concept of money to someone capable of stressing out over bills.]
[ In other circumstances, it'd be such a strong overreaction. But given everything Korra's had to handle the past few months -- a majority of which Hei's contributed to -- it comes as no shock. Exhaling, he moves toward her, curling his fingers around the back of her pretty neck and pressing his lips to her cheekbone. Just holding them there, his breath sliding over her skin. ] I told you. Relax. [ He doesn't say I'll pay for it. Korra's fiercely independent and would only take that the wrong way. Nor does he say You can work the bill off other ways; he's made an effort the past few months to stop treating her like a whore. ]
[ Instead he opts to allay her concerns. ] These VIP rooms don't have cameras. [ It's the Underground; not Disney Land. ] Just tell them the couch was already broken.
I can't lie to them. [It's a half-hearted protest. Korra knows she needs to take responsibility for her actions and the damage she causes... but she's already taken on so much. She doesn't want yet another thing to deal with.]
[ Matter-of-fact. He already lies with every breath. What's a fib about a broken couch after a lifetime of deceptions? Still, there's a small shock in Korra's admission. Imagine; her being responsible. Her considering the consequences of something she's wrecked. Hei almost feels a wistful pride -- until it occurs to him that Korra's not the only one who's changed. Five years ago, he'd never be making reassurances to a silly girl. Much less taking her out for a treat. ]
[ This place will be the end of you, a voice whispers in his head, and he shakes it off. ]
[She should say no. She should own up to what happened. But damn it, she doesn't want to. It never would have happened if those jerks hadn't drugged them anyway! (Maybe.)
Korra sighs and buries her head against his chest.]
[ Hei wants to tell her she doesn't have to thank him. But with the warm weight of her against him, he's in no mood to talk anymore. Slipping his arms around her, he stretches back on the couch. Draws her down on top of him, liking the smooth rub of her nakedness against his skin, cool and slightly sticky. Prodding her thighs apart with his knees, he lets his lengthening cock press between their bellies, while his mouth nudges and connects with hers. The kiss has a fizzling note of hunger; he chases the leftover traces of cake in her mouth, and her own particular flavor, which he's almost come to crave. Slowly, somnolently, moving his head to try different angles. All around him, he can still half-sense shimmering phantasms of the music from the dancefloor -- red blossoms of bassline and pink lightning-flickers of guitar-strings -- like a multicolored ghost cloud hovering over the much-used couch. ]
[ Finally, on a sharp breath, he breaks away, reaching over to his jeans, lying puddled on the floor. He grapples blindly with one hand until his fingers alight on what he's after. He pulls the condom out of his pocket and wastes no time in tearing the foil and slipping it on. ]
Hmm. [With a heavy breath, she forces her cares away and focuses her attention on his lips. It doesn't take long for him to drive every other thought out of her mind.
She murmurs faint protest when he breaks away, even if it's just to reach for the condom. Then, of course, she has to pull back to give him room to slide it on and that's just as hard.
He says her name and she shivers, biting his bottom lip as she shifts to take him in.]
[ Beneath her, Hei's erection throbs tight and hard against the seam of her body. He watches her shift, guiding it to the slick place it wants to go. As she sinks down, with a delicious sensation of stretching and fluttering around him, it feels like the thousand tiny fragments of the drug -- residual chemicals -- are being displaced. ]
[ There's nothing to see or feel, just the sense of her melting around him, feeding a quiet hum in his throat, a prickling of goosebumps and a shiver down his spine. When he's finally and completely inside her, he just soaks there for a moment, alive inside her, snugly enveloped. Rearing up, he catches her against him. Lets her sprawl across his crossed legs, folding hers around his hips. Face to face, mouth to mouth, fucking more with muscle than movement as he fans his hands across her hips, rocking her to the rhythm he wants. Tiny little circles at first, then deeper circles, then tight smooth strokes as he shows her how to roll her hips at the angles he likes. ]
[She can feel beads of sweat trickle down her body, tickling her overly-sensitive skin. She clenches tightly around him. Everything is hot and stretched to the point of breaking, and she feels like her entire body is a cacophony of lights and explosions. But it's still not enough.
Harder. She's not sure whether she just thinks it or the word actually makes it past her lips.]
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Why are guys so messy? [She wipes her face and looks around for something to actually clean herself up with.]
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[ To her question: ] We're not the only ones. [ Although his tone is more sleepy than argumentative. ]
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Sit up. [ Murmured against her throat, her sternum, just before he rights her. Taking her hips until she's crawled up the length of his body, he sets her kneeling over his head, taking her fingers and curling them around the ornate brass of the arm-rest. Not a position he usually goes for; face-sitting is impractical and a little messy, especially if you dislike being smothered. But laziness trumps any and all effort. ]
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Can you breathe like that?
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[ But his grip on her hips is firm, keeping her at the angle he wants. For a moment he stares up, past the swathe of belly, the undersides of breasts and erect nipples, the dangling ends of her hair, blinking slowly at the uncertain look in her eyes, before he offers a faint smile. This position's a little awkward and ridiculous. But he enjoys the sight of her this way -- skin lit up in crystalline colors from the slanting rays of lamplight, her sex laid open, the damp curls glinting. ]
[ Tugging her closer, he turns his head and dots tiny bites on her inner thighs, one side and then the other -- soft and sharp alternately. Leans in and plants delicate kisses along her slick seam, before tightening his grip on her hips, pulling her down onto him firmly. When his mouth opens against her, tongue flickering, it's with a hum -- greedy and satisfied in equal parts. ]
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Harder.
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[ He's more patient than usual. Devouring, but not like the cliche of a starving man. More with the enjoyment of one who knows his table. But until she's done -- until he's tapped into that simmering geyser in her, let it burst once, maybe twice -- he's not planning to let her go. ]
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Oh come on!
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[ When he senses she's close, he draws her clit between pursed lips, at long last, in one strong, drawn out suck, relentlessly inhaling her in and out until he's pulled her over the edge. ]
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CRACK.
Looks like she broke the arm of the couch.
Oops.]
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[ Hei isn't so absorbed by her sounds, or the movements of her hips, that he doesn't register the craaack. ]
[ When she's nearly ceased to shake, he lets her flop back to lie beside him, wiping the slick from his chin and dragging in lungfuls of air. Korra's the one who just came, but it's Hei whose whole body feels wobbly. Must be the drug. Sitting up, half-propped on an elbow, he regards the broken arm with a quirked eyebrow. ]
What was that about me being messy?
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Huh?
[She stares blankly at the arm for a long moment before realization hits.]
SHIT!
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[ Reaching out, he curls his fingers around her hand, coaxing her to drop the broken piece of furniture. ]
Relax. They'll send a bill later.
[ After all, damaged furniture is the least of a nightclub's expenses. ]
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I can't afford to pay for this! [Shit, she feels like Mako, but it's true. She's seen how much couches cost.] I'm still paying the hospital and my old boss and we've got all the pets to feed --
[She's changed quite a bit in the City, going from a girl who didn't really understand the concept of money to someone capable of stressing out over bills.]
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[ Instead he opts to allay her concerns. ] These VIP rooms don't have cameras. [ It's the Underground; not Disney Land. ] Just tell them the couch was already broken.
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[ Matter-of-fact. He already lies with every breath. What's a fib about a broken couch after a lifetime of deceptions? Still, there's a small shock in Korra's admission. Imagine; her being responsible. Her considering the consequences of something she's wrecked. Hei almost feels a wistful pride -- until it occurs to him that Korra's not the only one who's changed. Five years ago, he'd never be making reassurances to a silly girl. Much less taking her out for a treat. ]
[ This place will be the end of you, a voice whispers in his head, and he shakes it off. ]
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Korra sighs and buries her head against his chest.]
Thank you.
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[ Finally, on a sharp breath, he breaks away, reaching over to his jeans, lying puddled on the floor. He grapples blindly with one hand until his fingers alight on what he's after. He pulls the condom out of his pocket and wastes no time in tearing the foil and slipping it on. ]
Korra.
[ The words are feathery against her lips. ]
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She murmurs faint protest when he breaks away, even if it's just to reach for the condom. Then, of course, she has to pull back to give him room to slide it on and that's just as hard.
He says her name and she shivers, biting his bottom lip as she shifts to take him in.]
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[ There's nothing to see or feel, just the sense of her melting around him, feeding a quiet hum in his throat, a prickling of goosebumps and a shiver down his spine. When he's finally and completely inside her, he just soaks there for a moment, alive inside her, snugly enveloped. Rearing up, he catches her against him. Lets her sprawl across his crossed legs, folding hers around his hips. Face to face, mouth to mouth, fucking more with muscle than movement as he fans his hands across her hips, rocking her to the rhythm he wants. Tiny little circles at first, then deeper circles, then tight smooth strokes as he shows her how to roll her hips at the angles he likes. ]
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Harder. She's not sure whether she just thinks it or the word actually makes it past her lips.]
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