[Who's voice is that? Still sleepy, she looks around to see who just said that. If she'd been wearing clothes, like Hei, she probably would have figured it out sooner. But her inclination to fall asleep right after sex means that she has no suddenly ill-fitting clothing to give the game away.
Her muscles, though. They feel different. And there's something stiff between her thighs. She looks down.]
[ Hei blinks. Because, even amid the glaring differences, the scenario is familiar. There's also something incredibly familiar about that tawny tessitura of a voice. The cadence of it, the stress on the syllables. He squints, carding a hand back through his dangling mop of hair. A pale frosting of light is building up at the window, diffusing the gray hues in the sky towards periwinkle. In the glow, he can see the lines of Korra's profile, starkly delineated in pale blue. Holy shit. ]
[ Hei takes a deep, jitter-stifling breath. Lets his eyes skate with a methodical sharpness over Korra's new body. Brawny frame. Mess of scraggly dark hair framing a surprisingly strong jaw line. Stubble. No breasts. As far as curse tallies go, he tells himself it's small. He's awoken with an aching bloodlust and fangs, awoken a stranger trapped in a cage of unfamiliar flesh and bones, hijacked by his own killer instincts. This is nothing. (But that doesn't make it less weird.) ]
[ So weird. He was expecting her to be unnerved. It's an effort for him to settle into the aloofness he doesn't truly have -- slow breaths, meting out his heartbeats, keeping his expression calm. By degrees, the set of his shoulders shifts into something smoother, easier, and his spine relaxes a little, although a tension lingers at his edges. Internally, the atmosphere is different -- his brain judders over a dozen facts: how to go to work like this, whether he should call in sick, whether Pai will be startled or take his change in stride, whether he should slip Underground for the duration of the day. ]
[ Then Korra peels back the sheet. Hei blinks. Once, twice, before dipping his gaze to the It in question. That primary symbol of what she no longer is -- at least not today. Invasive, prodding, domineering... ]
[ Actually, it is pretty funny looking. At half-mast, dark and fat, barely larger than her testicles but heavy, nestled against the plane of her abdomen and dark scrim of curls. The expression on Hei's face -- a mix of dubious, confused and amused -- fades when he realizes. He's in bed with a dude. Who has the beginnings of an erection. ]
[ He conceals a wince. His voice is terse. ]
They don't all look the same. [ A beat. ] Even on the same guy, the size varies. Depending on the situation.
[ One minute as a man. And she's already obsessing over her dick. He's too rattled to be endeared. ]
Yes, I am aware that penises aren't always erect. [She looks at him, unimpressed. They've been sleeping together for awhile now, come on. But she frowns as she looks back down at it.] I've never really gotten a good look at another one before.
[And she is not obsessed. She just has a healthy curiosity. It's the one outward body part that she doesn't have as a woman. Arms, legs, feet, hands -- they may have different mass now, but they're still familiar. The erection? Completely new territory.
Curiosity fades into concern when she glances back over at him. He looks unsettled, which she doesn't quite understand. It's the same body he'd been in before; didn't he get used to it?]
[ He would explain in scientific detail. But his stomach churns queasily at the earnest innocence in her words. I've never really gotten a good look at another one before. It's less the reminder of Korra's sheltered background. More that it's still Korra. It's not his own body Hei is disconcerted by. It's a jerky transition from man to woman, sure. Especially when you base at least part of your identity on your masculinity. When you revel in the small freedoms it offers you. But he's survived worse alterations, let's be honest. Adaptation comes to him as easily as breathing. ]
[ His discomfiture is at Korra. ]
[ He's struck dumb by the hot ball of queasiness that comes from studying her. No longer seeing her beautiful face, those sleek curves, hearing the syrup-sweet alto of her voice. He has to look at her like -- like a person, for a change. He doesn't like what that says about him. ]
[ Dimly, he feels her gaze burning through him. With effort, he cuts his eyes away. Slips out of bed -- the room taking on an altered, vertiginous vantage at his new height -- and drifts to the window. The sky is streaked with slats of pink, and a yellow tungsten of sun glows brilliantly at the sea. ]
[She shrugs, watching him move around, his discomfort making her a little uncomfortable.]
I've got an evening shift at the Welcome Center. Other than that, just airbending training with Jinora. [The same as any other day, basically. It doesn't even occur to her to change her plans due to change in sex.]
[ One more surreality to add to the pile. You'd think she'd been in this body for years. Must be an Avatar thing: all those past lives in different packages. Or maybe it's just a Korra thing. ]
[ So why can't you accept that?. ]
[ For a moment, Hei's jaw tenses -- not with annoyance but with a strange, bubbling disorientation. The muscles in his shoulders flex as if something inside him is poised to attack. But instead he relaxes abruptly, as if he's just given himself an injection of something calmative. A patch of frost glitters on the window. Idly, he skates his fingers -- paler, spindlier, but the nails still trimmed to the quick -- across the glass, leaving faint smudges. He glances back at Korra, his hair hanging in dark streaks across a pale oval face. When he smiles, it doesn't quite reach his eyes, but it's genuine enough. ]
[This is 100% Korra. Aang never would have been this comfortable in a woman's body; he'd been very attached to his identity as a man, but for Korra, the only part of her identity that ever really mattered was the Avatar. Everything else is just window dressing.
She makes a face as he reminds her of the practicalities.]
Are you sure they'll fit? We're not exactly built the same. [She's not built like a sumo wrestler or anything, but she is much broader than Hei's usual self. With the right clothes, Hei can pass as a twiggy, underfed weakling, which is not a look that Korra could pull off in this body. At all.]
Some of my clothes [ or at least 'Li's ] are extra large.
[ Although she does have a point. Hei, in his usual body, is built streamlined and lean -- all fast-twitch muscle like a dancer or a distance runner. Korra, on the other hand, packs more bulk. It's evident in the steely density of her neck and the width of her shoulders. Not one of those juiced-up muscleheads at the gym who can bench cart-oxen weight. Just ... strong looking. She is built much like she had been as a girl. Sturdy, athletic -- a fresh-faced sun-browned teenager. There's a beat, before he sidles away from the window. Leans against the wall by the bed, arms crossed under his breasts -- unaware of how the gesture pushes them up against the low scoop of his top. ]
Do you still have any of Bolin's old clothes? He was shorter. But his shirts might do. [ He blinks, then glances down at himself. Notices the tits served up like two ice cream scoops of vanilla, then scowls and straightens. ] I might need your sarashi too.
Yeah, they're in a box somewhere. [If she sounds distracted, well, that's because she's noticed your boobs too, Hei. And she's remembering how much she likes them. Her penis, half-hard before, quickly gets even more stiff in appreciation. She reaches out a hand for his.]
[ She reaches a hand out -- a comfortingly, charmingly Korra-like gesture. Hei hesitates, then steps closer, a quiet smile to the turn of his mouth. It fades when he notices. Well. His face shutters through a number of subtle expressions -- dismay, confusion, irritation -- before it settles on mild amusement. He'd probably have hated to be told so, but right now he looks strikingly similar to Pai: a wry curl of a half-smile, a cool dark-eyed stare, beautiful in its mockery. ]
Consider a cold shower before you dress.
[ Or a wank, if you get the hang of it straight-off. ]
[...way to kill her emotional boner, Hei. Sadly, her actual erection remains very much erect.]
I thought we could do something more fun... [She's aiming for flirty, although there's a thread of insecurity and a pinch of resentment. Okay, she's turned on -- so what? What's wrong with that? He's never looked at her like that when she had boobs. Not about sex, anyway.]
[ He catches the wavering edge of hurt in her tone. Nothing in his expression changes, not outwardly. But the way he looks at her does -- quieter, more careful. There is no good way to say that Korra's male body doesn't turn him on. Hei wishes he was comfortable enough in his own skin, experimental enough -- affectionate enough -- to ignore the packaging, to have a playful romp with the brightly-colored essence it houses. ]
[ Except his background, his experiences, have ensured that he defines himself by the women in his life. Protecting them, hating them, loving them, alternately understanding or being flabbergasted by them. Men his age and older are competitors more than anything else. He's done his share of shirtlifting, sure. But most has been on assignments. A calculated goal, not recreation. Even during the latter moments -- the two dozen or so he's had -- he was always wary, no matter how affable the other guy was. There was pleasure in the roughness, the foregoing of niceties a woman expected. But afterward he always slept alone. ]
[ He doesn't know what to say. He isn't the go-to guy for emotional analysis anyway. After a beat, he manages, ]
I don't touch dicks unless I'm paid to.
[ The dry tone slides uneasily into the room, not quite fitting. (If it implies something about his past -- well, it is what it is.) ]
Does it really make that much of a difference? [The way he said that makes her heart ache a little, even though she doesn't catch all the implications of it quite yet. She just can't wrap her head around it. Her attraction to internal qualities over external is so strong that she has trouble imagining how it could be otherwise.]
[ He falters, lip bit. How does he explain? For all that he's been getting better -- about control, about sharing, about softness -- there are still tremendously sharp-edged insecurities that like to rear up now and again. Being something other than himself is one of them. The pressure to perform, on top of that, with someone he's not physically drawn to? That's another. It all comes back to him, the tepid haze of interludes, the feigned passions and cold-eyed deceptions against alleyways and grimy bathrooms and shoddy, funny-smelling motels. Trying to muster a lick of enthusiasm for the unwanted procession of half-naked flesh, like a carnival freak composed not of two conjoined bodies, but hundreds. ]
[ Hei swallows. Waits five, six minutes, before settling on the edge of the bed, fighting his usual instinct to exit. He reaches after a beat, then places his hand on her wrist. It is big, with fine dark hairs, and blueish veins passing over onto the backs of her hand. But still warm. Still deliciously toffee-colored. Still Korra. ]
[ Tentatively, ]
Not everyone likes... men and women the same. They're not wired that way.
[It doesn't occur to her that it seems like she's pressuring him to have sex with her, because that's the last thing she wants. This isn't about whether they have sex or not; she's trying to understand him. As far as she can tell, she's not hideously deformed (hey, being primarily attracted to internal qualities doesn't mean you can't also be a little shallow). There's a small, nervous part of her that wonders if he's not attracted to her at all, just the boobs and the ass and the pussy. He's fucked her like she's just a collection of body parts before.]
[ Hei watches the thoughts darkening her blue gaze. They seem to echo the ideas that swim like eels in the churning waters of his skull. Is he so selfish, so shallow, that he still sees her as sub-human? A thing, a buffet of erogenous orifices -- but disposable? It's true, the physical quotient of their relationship is high. It's true, he enjoys the fact that she's so unmistakably, lushly female. Sexually, he's delighted with every inch of her; she might almost be a toy designed for no purpose but to bring him to orgasm. Does that mean it's all he's after? Maybe it's just her passion he wants. Just the way he fits in her pussy. Maybe it's just her adoration and sweetness. He doesn't want her. ]
[ Hei shakes his head clear. ]
[ The room has begun to glow amber in the diffused early-morning sunlight. Korra's big eyes are a little crumbly with sleep, but still startlingly beautiful, in his opinion. The irises, all blue and aquamarine, glowing like illuminated supernovas. Something in him flares -- quiet and red-hot. It's not desire. But it is a strange sort of tenderness. Sure, the wrapping is different. But it's still Korra. Sex and fighting is the duet they sing, what makes them good together. But they're just getting in tune. This is simply one of those hitches in the rhythm. ]
I guess it is. [ He squeezes her wrist. Pauses, then asks, ] What -- exactly did you have in mind?
[ It's not capitulation. But it is a concession. ]
I don't know. [She hesitates for a moment, then gently tugs on his wrist, trying to get him to sit on the edge of the bed. She really wants to hug him and see what those soft breasts feel against her currently flat chest, and kiss him.] I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.
[ That, at least, is true. She tugs him, and he scooches closer, sunlight filtering through the dark of his hair, striking the edges in gold. His gaze dips, the thick stubby lashes making spidery shadows on his face. Then he glances up at her and the hesitation is gone, although there's a splotch of color on the rise of his cheeks. ]
[ After a beat, he leans in -- for once not down, not far -- and kisses her. He was looking for differences but all he finds are similarities. Korra's lips feel a little wider, but still full, still soft. The same taste, the same tactile ticklish-hot sensation as he coaxes her lips apart, darts his tongue between them. A nervous, stuttering energy hums through his body. He shakes it off, placing one palm flat against the hard slope of her chest -- he misses her breasts, but that's not what it's about right now -- and curls the other across the back of her skull, fingers in the warm soft hair. ]
[You already seem pretty uncomfortable. She refrains from saying it, because he's sitting down and scooching closer. And then he's kissing her and it makes her erection pulse. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him closer, greedy for more of him. It's familiar but deliciously, amazingly new.]
[ He's not comfortable -- not entirely. There's still a small cold worm of anxiety nestled at the base of his skull. But Hei's too well-trained in mimicry, in acting, in going with the flow -- or at least pretending to. His method to get by is just that: method. The trick, he knows, is to compartmentalize. Turn his mind into something dichotomous -- amorphous -- so his head is weighed down by the rush of sensation, while at the same time it is a balloon, bobbing along the ceiling, waiting for him to get past the hitches he's irrationally dreading, and then once that is done, allow him to slow his mind all down again, and enjoy this. ]
[ The stubble on Korra's face feels mildly abrasive. A mix of sandpaper and velvet against his smoother skin. She wraps her thick arms around him, and the fit is different. Unfamiliar, but still cozy. That enveloping sense of possession he gets when he gathers her in is reversed. No matter. He lets his lips curl, kisses her -- wet and sweet -- before employing a neat twist-and-push to slowly roll them over. So Korra's flat on her back against the mattress. So his dark hair falls like a shadowy veil around them, grazing her jaw, as his hands roam free over the unfamiliar planes of her chest. ]
[ His eyes burn dark-hot and his lips are slightly parted, his breaths steady but a degree sharper than usual. It's not want, but it's close enough. ]
[She groans as he rolls them over, his body pressing against her erection in ways she's just not used to. She can't tell whether she's feeling pain or pleasure, only that it's making her head spin and her skin feel tight. When she speaks, she's out of breath.]
No. [She'll take anything as long as he's touching her.]
[ She groans -- different pitch, but the same declension between heady heat and electric want -- and Hei thinks: Oh. This is familiar. It triggers the same reactions in him, albeit at half-speed -- desire like glorious red-hot stars shooting up his muscles. An ache strings low and tight in his belly. He can feel how hard she is against the round of his ass. Feel the tensile heat under his palms, a fresh coat muscle fibres bundled together like crayons in a box. Part of him, the Reaper, the one that sizes up anything that moves in terms of Fight, Kill, Fuck, wonders what she'd be like to fight. But the rest of him is saturated in a syrupy, dark sort of tendresse. ]
[ The corners of his mouth lift a fraction -- secret, winglike. He dips his head, begins to kiss Korra's body. The points of her shoulders, the sloping pecs. Takes one nipple in his teeth, tugging and worrying it between wet swipes of tongue and blunt teeth. One hand glides lower, across the abs, feeling the flex of the muscles beneath. He traces the downy dark hairs scattered along the midline of her torso, thickening as they descend over her stomach to cluster darkly at the junction of her thighs. He doesn't touch her erection. He simply combs his fingers through the pubic patch, tangling them in the hair, tugging playfully. ]
[ He wants to know where this body shares similarities with Korra's usual one, and where they translate into something different. ]
[Nipples -- still sensitive. So insensitivity is a Hei thing, not a guy thing. Good to know
She would love to be analyzing it that clinically. To get a thorough understanding of this body and how guy bodies and girl bodies are different. But she's never been much for analytical thought. She feels and intuits, processing most information subconsciously. And right now she's too busy feeling to do anything else. She squirms under his hands, her hips bucking up, trying to get him to touch the part that's aching the most.]
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What? What happened?
[Who's voice is that? Still sleepy, she looks around to see who just said that. If she'd been wearing clothes, like Hei, she probably would have figured it out sooner. But her inclination to fall asleep right after sex means that she has no suddenly ill-fitting clothing to give the game away.
Her muscles, though. They feel different. And there's something stiff between her thighs. She looks down.]
A curse?
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[ Hei takes a deep, jitter-stifling breath. Lets his eyes skate with a methodical sharpness over Korra's new body. Brawny frame. Mess of scraggly dark hair framing a surprisingly strong jaw line. Stubble. No breasts. As far as curse tallies go, he tells himself it's small. He's awoken with an aching bloodlust and fangs, awoken a stranger trapped in a cage of unfamiliar flesh and bones, hijacked by his own killer instincts. This is nothing. (But that doesn't make it less weird.) ]
[ Then he notices Korra's blanket is saluting. ]
A hard-on, actually. But the distinction's slim.
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She lifts up the sheet to take a look and frowns.]
It doesn't look like yours. Is there something wrong with it?
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[ Then Korra peels back the sheet. Hei blinks. Once, twice, before dipping his gaze to the It in question. That primary symbol of what she no longer is -- at least not today. Invasive, prodding, domineering... ]
[ Actually, it is pretty funny looking. At half-mast, dark and fat, barely larger than her testicles but heavy, nestled against the plane of her abdomen and dark scrim of curls. The expression on Hei's face -- a mix of dubious, confused and amused -- fades when he realizes. He's in bed with a dude. Who has the beginnings of an erection. ]
[ He conceals a wince. His voice is terse. ]
They don't all look the same. [ A beat. ] Even on the same guy, the size varies. Depending on the situation.
[ One minute as a man. And she's already obsessing over her dick. He's too rattled to be endeared. ]
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[And she is not obsessed. She just has a healthy curiosity. It's the one outward body part that she doesn't have as a woman. Arms, legs, feet, hands -- they may have different mass now, but they're still familiar. The erection? Completely new territory.
Curiosity fades into concern when she glances back over at him. He looks unsettled, which she doesn't quite understand. It's the same body he'd been in before; didn't he get used to it?]
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[ He would explain in scientific detail. But his stomach churns queasily at the earnest innocence in her words. I've never really gotten a good look at another one before. It's less the reminder of Korra's sheltered background. More that it's still Korra. It's not his own body Hei is disconcerted by. It's a jerky transition from man to woman, sure. Especially when you base at least part of your identity on your masculinity. When you revel in the small freedoms it offers you. But he's survived worse alterations, let's be honest. Adaptation comes to him as easily as breathing. ]
[ His discomfiture is at Korra. ]
[ He's struck dumb by the hot ball of queasiness that comes from studying her. No longer seeing her beautiful face, those sleek curves, hearing the syrup-sweet alto of her voice. He has to look at her like -- like a person, for a change. He doesn't like what that says about him. ]
[ Dimly, he feels her gaze burning through him. With effort, he cuts his eyes away. Slips out of bed -- the room taking on an altered, vertiginous vantage at his new height -- and drifts to the window. The sky is streaked with slats of pink, and a yellow tungsten of sun glows brilliantly at the sea. ]
[ Quietly, he asks, ]
What do you plan to do today?
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I've got an evening shift at the Welcome Center. Other than that, just airbending training with Jinora. [The same as any other day, basically. It doesn't even occur to her to change her plans due to change in sex.]
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[ So why can't you accept that?. ]
[ For a moment, Hei's jaw tenses -- not with annoyance but with a strange, bubbling disorientation. The muscles in his shoulders flex as if something inside him is poised to attack. But instead he relaxes abruptly, as if he's just given himself an injection of something calmative. A patch of frost glitters on the window. Idly, he skates his fingers -- paler, spindlier, but the nails still trimmed to the quick -- across the glass, leaving faint smudges. He glances back at Korra, his hair hanging in dark streaks across a pale oval face. When he smiles, it doesn't quite reach his eyes, but it's genuine enough. ]
I guess you'll have to borrow my clothes.
[ And he'll have to borrow some of hers. ]
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She makes a face as he reminds her of the practicalities.]
Are you sure they'll fit? We're not exactly built the same. [She's not built like a sumo wrestler or anything, but she is much broader than Hei's usual self. With the right clothes, Hei can pass as a twiggy, underfed weakling, which is not a look that Korra could pull off in this body. At all.]
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[ Although she does have a point. Hei, in his usual body, is built streamlined and lean -- all fast-twitch muscle like a dancer or a distance runner. Korra, on the other hand, packs more bulk. It's evident in the steely density of her neck and the width of her shoulders. Not one of those juiced-up muscleheads at the gym who can bench cart-oxen weight. Just ... strong looking. She is built much like she had been as a girl. Sturdy, athletic -- a fresh-faced sun-browned teenager. There's a beat, before he sidles away from the window. Leans against the wall by the bed, arms crossed under his breasts -- unaware of how the gesture pushes them up against the low scoop of his top. ]
Do you still have any of Bolin's old clothes? He was shorter. But his shirts might do. [ He blinks, then glances down at himself. Notices the tits served up like two ice cream scoops of vanilla, then scowls and straightens. ] I might need your sarashi too.
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Consider a cold shower before you dress.
[ Or a wank, if you get the hang of it straight-off. ]
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I thought we could do something more fun... [She's aiming for flirty, although there's a thread of insecurity and a pinch of resentment. Okay, she's turned on -- so what? What's wrong with that? He's never looked at her like that when she had boobs. Not about sex, anyway.]
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[ Except his background, his experiences, have ensured that he defines himself by the women in his life. Protecting them, hating them, loving them, alternately understanding or being flabbergasted by them. Men his age and older are competitors more than anything else. He's done his share of shirtlifting, sure. But most has been on assignments. A calculated goal, not recreation. Even during the latter moments -- the two dozen or so he's had -- he was always wary, no matter how affable the other guy was. There was pleasure in the roughness, the foregoing of niceties a woman expected. But afterward he always slept alone. ]
[ He doesn't know what to say. He isn't the go-to guy for emotional analysis anyway. After a beat, he manages, ]
I don't touch dicks unless I'm paid to.
[ The dry tone slides uneasily into the room, not quite fitting. (If it implies something about his past -- well, it is what it is.) ]
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[ He falters, lip bit. How does he explain? For all that he's been getting better -- about control, about sharing, about softness -- there are still tremendously sharp-edged insecurities that like to rear up now and again. Being something other than himself is one of them. The pressure to perform, on top of that, with someone he's not physically drawn to? That's another. It all comes back to him, the tepid haze of interludes, the feigned passions and cold-eyed deceptions against alleyways and grimy bathrooms and shoddy, funny-smelling motels. Trying to muster a lick of enthusiasm for the unwanted procession of half-naked flesh, like a carnival freak composed not of two conjoined bodies, but hundreds. ]
[ Hei swallows. Waits five, six minutes, before settling on the edge of the bed, fighting his usual instinct to exit. He reaches after a beat, then places his hand on her wrist. It is big, with fine dark hairs, and blueish veins passing over onto the backs of her hand. But still warm. Still deliciously toffee-colored. Still Korra. ]
[ Tentatively, ]
Not everyone likes... men and women the same. They're not wired that way.
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[It doesn't occur to her that it seems like she's pressuring him to have sex with her, because that's the last thing she wants. This isn't about whether they have sex or not; she's trying to understand him. As far as she can tell, she's not hideously deformed (hey, being primarily attracted to internal qualities doesn't mean you can't also be a little shallow). There's a small, nervous part of her that wonders if he's not attracted to her at all, just the boobs and the ass and the pussy. He's fucked her like she's just a collection of body parts before.]
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[ Hei shakes his head clear. ]
[ The room has begun to glow amber in the diffused early-morning sunlight. Korra's big eyes are a little crumbly with sleep, but still startlingly beautiful, in his opinion. The irises, all blue and aquamarine, glowing like illuminated supernovas. Something in him flares -- quiet and red-hot. It's not desire. But it is a strange sort of tenderness. Sure, the wrapping is different. But it's still Korra. Sex and fighting is the duet they sing, what makes them good together. But they're just getting in tune. This is simply one of those hitches in the rhythm. ]
I guess it is. [ He squeezes her wrist. Pauses, then asks, ] What -- exactly did you have in mind?
[ It's not capitulation. But it is a concession. ]
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[ That, at least, is true. She tugs him, and he scooches closer, sunlight filtering through the dark of his hair, striking the edges in gold. His gaze dips, the thick stubby lashes making spidery shadows on his face. Then he glances up at her and the hesitation is gone, although there's a splotch of color on the rise of his cheeks. ]
[ After a beat, he leans in -- for once not down, not far -- and kisses her. He was looking for differences but all he finds are similarities. Korra's lips feel a little wider, but still full, still soft. The same taste, the same tactile ticklish-hot sensation as he coaxes her lips apart, darts his tongue between them. A nervous, stuttering energy hums through his body. He shakes it off, placing one palm flat against the hard slope of her chest -- he misses her breasts, but that's not what it's about right now -- and curls the other across the back of her skull, fingers in the warm soft hair. ]
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[ The stubble on Korra's face feels mildly abrasive. A mix of sandpaper and velvet against his smoother skin. She wraps her thick arms around him, and the fit is different. Unfamiliar, but still cozy. That enveloping sense of possession he gets when he gathers her in is reversed. No matter. He lets his lips curl, kisses her -- wet and sweet -- before employing a neat twist-and-push to slowly roll them over. So Korra's flat on her back against the mattress. So his dark hair falls like a shadowy veil around them, grazing her jaw, as his hands roam free over the unfamiliar planes of her chest. ]
[ His eyes burn dark-hot and his lips are slightly parted, his breaths steady but a degree sharper than usual. It's not want, but it's close enough. ]
Any special requests?
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No. [She'll take anything as long as he's touching her.]
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[ The corners of his mouth lift a fraction -- secret, winglike. He dips his head, begins to kiss Korra's body. The points of her shoulders, the sloping pecs. Takes one nipple in his teeth, tugging and worrying it between wet swipes of tongue and blunt teeth. One hand glides lower, across the abs, feeling the flex of the muscles beneath. He traces the downy dark hairs scattered along the midline of her torso, thickening as they descend over her stomach to cluster darkly at the junction of her thighs. He doesn't touch her erection. He simply combs his fingers through the pubic patch, tangling them in the hair, tugging playfully. ]
[ He wants to know where this body shares similarities with Korra's usual one, and where they translate into something different. ]
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She would love to be analyzing it that clinically. To get a thorough understanding of this body and how guy bodies and girl bodies are different. But she's never been much for analytical thought. She feels and intuits, processing most information subconsciously. And right now she's too busy feeling to do anything else. She squirms under his hands, her hips bucking up, trying to get him to touch the part that's aching the most.]
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