[ Hei pauses a moment, then closes his eyes against the water. Bringing his hands up with Korra's caught in them, he shakes out the soap, letting it skitter down to the tiles. Exhales, and looks at her. ]
It's nothing.
[ Not an evasion so much as a shrug-off. He can be notoriously pliant in the hands of a mark, if he has something to gain from it. But off-duty... it's unpredictable, the snake-strike stress response. He never knows when he'll lash out or tense up, or when something will trigger a bad memory, or when he'll feel ... overexposed, if not defenseless. It's not something he can explain to Korra. Instead he guides her hand back to his erection. Shows her how to pull the skin of the shaft tight, first up, then down, with her fingertips, until it fills and hardens again. ]
[ Quietly, both alleviating the mood, and changing the subject, ]
You want to get out? Or --
[ Or we can fuck right here. Shower-sex isn't high on his list of favorites. Too much water, slippery tiles, space shortages ... someone ultimately ends up far from clean, and far from satisfied. But right now he wants Korra too much to care. ]
[She hates those words. It's nothing. Those words mean that there's something stirring under the surface that could bite her in the ass later. But she doesn't push it. That way leads to Not Good Things. She just lets him show her another way to touch him.
At the aborted question, she presses a quick kiss to his lips.]
[ It makes Hei pause. It's not for him, the kind of things other people would say in the dark: I want whatever you want. But then, isn't it true that he wants Korra because he's tired of all these people he has to either impress his will upon, or wrestle it from. He wants someone who has a certain wild softness, except Korra is young enough to leave fingerprints in the soft surfaces of her psyche. Sheltered enough to damage. It's not so easy to take some lovely, fresh girl in his arms who reminds him of all the vibrancy and trust people her age are so good at exuding, when he has no sense of them himself. Not anymore. ]
[ He wants to say something. Thank her, maybe, for putting up with all his strangeness and distance and sharp edges. Wants to do something that's all for her. Not an insidious way to gratify himself -- whether it's his ego, or his guilt, or his needs. There's a difference between giving Korra the reins and being a coercive barbarian who let his fuckpuppet try out cowgirl every once in awhile, after all. ]
[ But selfishness dies hard. Especially when it's what he's wired for. Instead of speaking, he sinks into the kiss -- biting and greedy. Draws back -- but just to extend an arm beyond the shower. The condoms are in the medicine cabinet. Water trickles down his hand as he tears the foil, rolling the rubber on. Then he's reaching for Korra, hands tangled in her wet hair, his mouth opening hard and cool against hers, warming as he presses into it. A low hum vibrates in his throat. He puts her back against the slick tiles, crowding in, one thigh up between hers, pinning her hands. ]
[ It's aggressive, but not forceful. Through the haze of urgency, part of him registers he isn't fully in control. ]
[Her thumbs rub circles on his hips as he reaches for the condoms; she knows he needs to move, but she doesn't want him going far. She likes the way he presses her against the wall, thigh hard against her, his lips fierce on hers. Control -- it always comes down to that between them. He always keeps such perfect control... She feels an intense accomplishment when she manages to break it, even a little.]
[ Control, right now, feels like one more thing that's going to melt and be sucked down the drain along with Hei's brain. The steam is thick in the tiny room; he can hardly breathe for Korra's proximity and the breathless sucking kisses, each one harder and harder. Water patters across their bodies; everything is wet and deliciously slippery. In a rough movement, he hitches her up. Lets her hang from his shoulders, legs slung across his waist, his widespread palms splayed across the moist curve of her backside, holding her steady. She's not light as a thistledown, but she's not heavy either. He nuzzles her moist neck with his face, grinding against her until he's poised at her entrance, the heavy darkish head splitting her open. Water has replaced some of the condom's lubricant; it's not as slick. ]
[ It would've been easier going to bed. But he wants her right now. ]
[ Inch by inch, he lets her fall on him. But when she's halfway down, a liquid noise escapes him, restraint pooling into nothingness. Catching her mouth with his, he slams into her, all the way in, almost bruising her with his careless speed, his necessity. ]
[She screams into his mouth, blinded equally by pleasure & pain. Her insides are still sore from the earlier fucking; he's getting rough on twice-tender skin.
Not that she wants him to slow down. Not by any means. She claws his shoulders, digs her fingers into his neck, and just does her best to give as good as she gets.]
[ Her scream pierces the room's awful somnolence, breaking its steamy spell. Korra's nails send shocks of pain through him, leave his skin raw and burning in the hot shower-spray. Hei exhales a noise into her mouth, voice ragged and dark with open hunger. Drives into her with force, a deep rolling fuck, biting at her lips and tongue, jouncing her body hard up against the cool tiles. His movements, unlike usually, are almost uncontrolled. With the water rolling off them, wet slaps of skin on skin, his mouth gasping into hers, he feels almost like he's swimming in her. Or drowning. The erratic quality would be unnerving. But the feeling of being helpless against his desire, against the heat and slippery flexion of her body, is much more terrifying. ]
[ Not that it stops him. Crushed between his torso and tiles, her sex fluttering around him, he feeds her rapid, punishing thrusts, letting her body be battered by his, ridden by his, as he draws the air from her mouth in gulping kisses, over and over. ]
[Y u p. She's not going to be walking straight for a week. And she doesn't care. It's not even that this is the most amazing sex they've ever had because, let's be real, physically? This is just a brutal pounding. The pleasure is psychological -- feeling the loss of his control, his desperate need, and knowing that she's the cause. She's the one who brought him here. It's a dark and delicious feeling of power.]
[ Later, perhaps there'll be a bittersweet regret when he catches her limping. ]
[ Right now -- nothing matters. He's fevery-hot as a spark, his blood thick with wanting. Whole body pulsing with it, the dark affection thick and sweet and red in him, great billows of it bubbling out. Letting the full weight of her rest against him, he begins to fuck her harder, so she slides up and down the tiles, one hand splayed at the small of her back. Pure and raw and uncomplicated, the sensations -- slippery and divine -- beg his whole attention, leaving room for nothing. ]
[ Breaking the kiss, Hei buries his mouth in the damp hollow of Korra's neck and shoulder. Water cascades everywhere, in his hair, his eyes, his nose and mouth. He doesn't care. Stretching like a cat, arms taut and fingers spanned tight across Korra's ass, dimpling her skin, he drags his mouth down her torso, mouthing the swells of her breasts, gnawing and rolling the nipples between teeth and tongue, making them swollen and almost dark enough to seem bruised. His shoulders have her scratches, his neck her bitemarks. He plans to leave marks of his own -- inside and out. ]
[ Holding her hips against him with a hand underneath her, Hei shuts his eyes, pushes the other palm down between her legs and rubs, until he's rewarded with more slickness. His wet hair falls over his eyes, so he can only feel her, the slippery warmth of her breasts against the bulwark of his arms and chest, the long muscles of her thighs wrapped around him, his each breath filling his lungs with the scent of oranges and cedar and Korra's hot skin. He clenches his jaw as he pumps, up and down, faster and faster. He wants to tell her -- how good she feels, how tight and wet and perfect she is -- but the intensity cuts out his tongue. ]
[ Just a few more moments, and he's going to come. The orgasm is already coiling awake and slithering up the base of his spine. ]
[ Hei feels her slippery walls rubberbanding around him as she breaks, and then only the jarring explosions of pleasure washing through his groin. His mouth clamps shut on her shoulder, Korra's body thrumming and weightless, being lifted and brought down, lifted and brought down by the force of his thrusts, until with a groan deep in his throat, he comes. His hips freeze and then ride her in a frenzy of sharp, jerking movements -- before going imperfectly, tremblingly still. Panting, splotches of color on his throat, he butts his chin against her shoulder. Thin crescent-shaped divots, the imprint of his teeth, are visible in her flesh. ]
[ Blinking slowly, eyes unfocused, he loosens his grip and sets her to her feet. Lurches away, vibrating too high for more contact. Water continues to rain on them; more lukewarm than hot. He sweeps the dripping hair from his eyes. Knots up the condom before tossing it in a neat arc into the wastebin, a glittering trail of water droplets chasing after it. Then he reaches past Korra's head -- and turns the water to icy cold. ]
[ As the cold water hits Korra, her reaction is predictable. Unflinching, Hei grabs her and holds her in place under the icy spray with him. ]
Relax. [ A beat, then, a little disdainfully, ] I thought you were from the South Pole.
[ He won't admit it, but he did this on purpose. Right after the orgasm, there's always that undifferentiated emptiness, that hollow, sordid sensation. He'd felt it encroaching even as he'd pounded her. He could succumb to it now; sink into himself and then leave her alone to feel bad. Like all the other times. But he doesn't want to -- which, in its own way, is even scarier. At least the cold splatter takes his mind off it. Centers him in the now. ]
[ Holding Korra against him, he waits until both their bodies adjust to the temperature, lungs no longer cramping. Then he reaches for the shower-ledge and squeezes a glob of shampoo into his hand. Lathering her hair up, fingers digging with vigorous force into her scalp, he looks down at his and Korra's feet, the tiles, the foamy water spiraling down, reluctant to meet his eyes. Only once he's rinsed her clean, and done the same with himself, does he shut the water off. ]
Yeah, I am. Which means I know better than to get in frigid water. [DUMBASS. She grumbles and squirms as he holds her under the cold water, but it's only half-hearted. She likes being cuddled, even in cold water. Her grumbles turn into little purrs as he starts massaging the shampoo into her hair. When he's finally done, and the water is off, she leans up to give him a little kiss.]
Everything okay?
[She can never tell what he's going to be like after sex -- when he's going to be sweet, when he's going to shut down, when he's going to completely lose his shit.]
[ Frigid? Please. It's bracingly cold, if anything. Letting go of Korra's shoulders, Hei grabs the only towel on the rail, and begins to dry first himself off, then her. Her hair first, taking his time with it, and then her body, raising her arms to dry armpits, turning her to get at her back. At her question, he falters -- if only for a moment. It's kneejerk, the resentment that flares whenever she asks him that. As if he's become some hybrid between a bleeding heart and a ticking grenade; something that needs to be handled carefully. Has the City completely wrecked him? Has he become so transparent, so superficial, so obvious and pathetic that anyone can read him like this? ]
[ He shakes it off. Reminds himself that Korra can't help but ask. Especially in light of everything that's happened. Towelling her hair into a thick moist nest, he wraps the towel around her. His expression is unreadable, voice echoing around the glass walls, muted over the tiles. It's hard to tell whether Hei sounds offhand or empty or if it's just the bathroom's acoustics. ]
Everything's fine. [ The trick is keeping it that way. Keeping a lid on that jerry-rigged death trap he calls a brain -- before the doors slam open and chaos and shrapnel goes zinging everywhere. There's a moment's pause, a slow breath, before he leans in and tips a kiss to Korra's nose. ] Come on. We both could use some sleep.
[ Or at least a cat-nap -- before he heads Topside to check on Pai. ]
[Considering all the shit that's gone down between them post-coitus, yeah, she can't help asking. And she's not sure she quite believes him. But, again, no pushing. (She'd made that promise to him awhile ago, hadn't she?)]
Mmm. [It's half agreement, half shy pleasure as he kisses her nose. Sleep does sound like a pretty amazing idea. She heads towards the futon, trying not to wince with every step. Owwwwwww.]
[ Hei watches curiously as she pads over to the futon; cataloguing the soreness in every step. Reaching out, he settles a cool palm on the back of her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. It's a multi-coded gesture: You okay? and Sorry, both layered within. Slipping into the cool sheets, he feels the world being gently powdered into tiny jagged particles, most of which get stuck behind his eyes. He's sleepier than he realized. Gathering Korra close, he lets her scooch in beside him, her one leg caught between his two, her cheek on his chest. It feels strange -- too intimate, too unnaturally sweet. The familiar claustrophobia is there, creeping at the fringes of his consciousness. But he forces it aside. Wonders, in an idle sort of way, if the selfish, feral part of him will ever grow accustomed to languorous cuddles, gentle kisses, drowsy whispers in the dark. ]
[ Probably not. But, for Korra, he can pretend. An appeasement, a concession, and a silent physical Thank You. Eyes slipping half-shut, he exhales, his breath tickling through her hair. ]
Didn't mean to get so ... [ Rough? Worked up? He isn't sure. Not sure, either, if he really means it. But it seems important to at least say something. ]
[She'll probably end up rolling over in the middle of the night so they end up resting back to back. But she appreciates the waking cuddles, and being able to hear his heartbeat. (It's a little like falling asleep on Naga in that respect.)]
I liked it. [She may have trouble walking, but the fun was worth the pain. She nuzzles her head sleepily against his chest and tightens her arms around him.]
[ Hei wants to tell her, That's no reason to encourage me. Instead he exhales a huff of air, tinged with rueful amusement. ] You're a masochist. [ It's muttered under his breath, almost too low for her to hear. He tries to ignore the mental riposte: So what's that make you? Instead he combs his fingers through her hair, up and down, a languid motion. The weight of her is somehow light yet confining; an unwelcome second skin needing to be sloughed off. But he doesn't. Counting backwards from fifty, listening to Korra's quiet breaths, he banishes the suffocation. It isn't so easy for him as he makes it look, to keep it all up -- the warmth, the dollops of kindness. ]
[ What if it can never be enough for Korra? Worse -- what if it leaves her exactly the way he is. Warped and bitterly aloof. ]
[ That isn't something he can ask her. He only knows he's willing to try, as much as he can. For the most idiotically simple reason: she makes him happy. ]
[ And so he strokes her smooth back, lulling, dreamlike, listening to the changes in the air until she's drifted off to sleep. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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It's nothing.
[ Not an evasion so much as a shrug-off. He can be notoriously pliant in the hands of a mark, if he has something to gain from it. But off-duty... it's unpredictable, the snake-strike stress response. He never knows when he'll lash out or tense up, or when something will trigger a bad memory, or when he'll feel ... overexposed, if not defenseless. It's not something he can explain to Korra. Instead he guides her hand back to his erection. Shows her how to pull the skin of the shaft tight, first up, then down, with her fingertips, until it fills and hardens again. ]
[ Quietly, both alleviating the mood, and changing the subject, ]
You want to get out? Or --
[ Or we can fuck right here. Shower-sex isn't high on his list of favorites. Too much water, slippery tiles, space shortages ... someone ultimately ends up far from clean, and far from satisfied. But right now he wants Korra too much to care. ]
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At the aborted question, she presses a quick kiss to his lips.]
Whatever you want.
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[ It makes Hei pause. It's not for him, the kind of things other people would say in the dark: I want whatever you want. But then, isn't it true that he wants Korra because he's tired of all these people he has to either impress his will upon, or wrestle it from. He wants someone who has a certain wild softness, except Korra is young enough to leave fingerprints in the soft surfaces of her psyche. Sheltered enough to damage. It's not so easy to take some lovely, fresh girl in his arms who reminds him of all the vibrancy and trust people her age are so good at exuding, when he has no sense of them himself. Not anymore. ]
[ He wants to say something. Thank her, maybe, for putting up with all his strangeness and distance and sharp edges. Wants to do something that's all for her. Not an insidious way to gratify himself -- whether it's his ego, or his guilt, or his needs. There's a difference between giving Korra the reins and being a coercive barbarian who let his fuckpuppet try out cowgirl every once in awhile, after all. ]
[ But selfishness dies hard. Especially when it's what he's wired for. Instead of speaking, he sinks into the kiss -- biting and greedy. Draws back -- but just to extend an arm beyond the shower. The condoms are in the medicine cabinet. Water trickles down his hand as he tears the foil, rolling the rubber on. Then he's reaching for Korra, hands tangled in her wet hair, his mouth opening hard and cool against hers, warming as he presses into it. A low hum vibrates in his throat. He puts her back against the slick tiles, crowding in, one thigh up between hers, pinning her hands. ]
[ It's aggressive, but not forceful. Through the haze of urgency, part of him registers he isn't fully in control. ]
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[ It would've been easier going to bed. But he wants her right now. ]
[ Inch by inch, he lets her fall on him. But when she's halfway down, a liquid noise escapes him, restraint pooling into nothingness. Catching her mouth with his, he slams into her, all the way in, almost bruising her with his careless speed, his necessity. ]
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Not that she wants him to slow down. Not by any means. She claws his shoulders, digs her fingers into his neck, and just does her best to give as good as she gets.]
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[ Not that it stops him. Crushed between his torso and tiles, her sex fluttering around him, he feeds her rapid, punishing thrusts, letting her body be battered by his, ridden by his, as he draws the air from her mouth in gulping kisses, over and over. ]
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[ Right now -- nothing matters. He's fevery-hot as a spark, his blood thick with wanting. Whole body pulsing with it, the dark affection thick and sweet and red in him, great billows of it bubbling out. Letting the full weight of her rest against him, he begins to fuck her harder, so she slides up and down the tiles, one hand splayed at the small of her back. Pure and raw and uncomplicated, the sensations -- slippery and divine -- beg his whole attention, leaving room for nothing. ]
[ Breaking the kiss, Hei buries his mouth in the damp hollow of Korra's neck and shoulder. Water cascades everywhere, in his hair, his eyes, his nose and mouth. He doesn't care. Stretching like a cat, arms taut and fingers spanned tight across Korra's ass, dimpling her skin, he drags his mouth down her torso, mouthing the swells of her breasts, gnawing and rolling the nipples between teeth and tongue, making them swollen and almost dark enough to seem bruised. His shoulders have her scratches, his neck her bitemarks. He plans to leave marks of his own -- inside and out. ]
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[ Holding her hips against him with a hand underneath her, Hei shuts his eyes, pushes the other palm down between her legs and rubs, until he's rewarded with more slickness. His wet hair falls over his eyes, so he can only feel her, the slippery warmth of her breasts against the bulwark of his arms and chest, the long muscles of her thighs wrapped around him, his each breath filling his lungs with the scent of oranges and cedar and Korra's hot skin. He clenches his jaw as he pumps, up and down, faster and faster. He wants to tell her -- how good she feels, how tight and wet and perfect she is -- but the intensity cuts out his tongue. ]
[ Just a few more moments, and he's going to come. The orgasm is already coiling awake and slithering up the base of his spine. ]
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[ Blinking slowly, eyes unfocused, he loosens his grip and sets her to her feet. Lurches away, vibrating too high for more contact. Water continues to rain on them; more lukewarm than hot. He sweeps the dripping hair from his eyes. Knots up the condom before tossing it in a neat arc into the wastebin, a glittering trail of water droplets chasing after it. Then he reaches past Korra's head -- and turns the water to icy cold. ]
[ Sorry. He needs it to clear his head. ]
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What are you doing?!?!?
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Relax. [ A beat, then, a little disdainfully, ] I thought you were from the South Pole.
[ He won't admit it, but he did this on purpose. Right after the orgasm, there's always that undifferentiated emptiness, that hollow, sordid sensation. He'd felt it encroaching even as he'd pounded her. He could succumb to it now; sink into himself and then leave her alone to feel bad. Like all the other times. But he doesn't want to -- which, in its own way, is even scarier. At least the cold splatter takes his mind off it. Centers him in the now. ]
[ Holding Korra against him, he waits until both their bodies adjust to the temperature, lungs no longer cramping. Then he reaches for the shower-ledge and squeezes a glob of shampoo into his hand. Lathering her hair up, fingers digging with vigorous force into her scalp, he looks down at his and Korra's feet, the tiles, the foamy water spiraling down, reluctant to meet his eyes. Only once he's rinsed her clean, and done the same with himself, does he shut the water off. ]
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Everything okay?
[She can never tell what he's going to be like after sex -- when he's going to be sweet, when he's going to shut down, when he's going to completely lose his shit.]
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[ He shakes it off. Reminds himself that Korra can't help but ask. Especially in light of everything that's happened. Towelling her hair into a thick moist nest, he wraps the towel around her. His expression is unreadable, voice echoing around the glass walls, muted over the tiles. It's hard to tell whether Hei sounds offhand or empty or if it's just the bathroom's acoustics. ]
Everything's fine. [ The trick is keeping it that way. Keeping a lid on that jerry-rigged death trap he calls a brain -- before the doors slam open and chaos and shrapnel goes zinging everywhere. There's a moment's pause, a slow breath, before he leans in and tips a kiss to Korra's nose. ] Come on. We both could use some sleep.
[ Or at least a cat-nap -- before he heads Topside to check on Pai. ]
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Mmm. [It's half agreement, half shy pleasure as he kisses her nose. Sleep does sound like a pretty amazing idea. She heads towards the futon, trying not to wince with every step. Owwwwwww.]
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[ Probably not. But, for Korra, he can pretend. An appeasement, a concession, and a silent physical Thank You. Eyes slipping half-shut, he exhales, his breath tickling through her hair. ]
Didn't mean to get so ... [ Rough? Worked up? He isn't sure. Not sure, either, if he really means it. But it seems important to at least say something. ]
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I liked it. [She may have trouble walking, but the fun was worth the pain. She nuzzles her head sleepily against his chest and tightens her arms around him.]
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[ What if it can never be enough for Korra? Worse -- what if it leaves her exactly the way he is. Warped and bitterly aloof. ]
[ That isn't something he can ask her. He only knows he's willing to try, as much as he can. For the most idiotically simple reason: she makes him happy. ]
[ And so he strokes her smooth back, lulling, dreamlike, listening to the changes in the air until she's drifted off to sleep. ]