[ When Korra gets back from work, there should be, balanced on the sill of her bedroom window, a simple blue box. Inside it, wrapped in snowy-white layers of tissue, are ten silk/lace lingerie sets, each one a different style and shade. Blue. Red. White. Purple. Black. Some withcorsets. Some withprints and stockings. They're expensive stuff, meant to fit. But like all expensive stuff, when you put them on, they make you look like someone you don't recognize. (Perhaps don't want to recognize?) The last item in the box is. Well. A reminder that the sender is sort of a troll. ]
[ At the very bottom of the box is a plain card with an address. Not of a motel but a street near the Casino in the Underground. If the gift -- is it a gift? or is it a gag? -- displeases, here is where Korra can go to toss the box at the sender's head. ]
[Korra knows exactly who it's from, of course. Who else would deliver this kind of gift in such a way? She takes it as a good sign, that he's over whatever happened to him that weekend and is okay. (Well, as okay as he ever is. "Messed up" is his default state of being.)
When she opens the box, her first reaction is a kind of queasy hurt. Playing dress up with your sex doll, huh? She pulls each piece out, reluctantly admiring how beautiful they are but feeling like they're not really for her. They're intended for someone she doesn't want to be.
She's just about to shove them all back in the back and deal with that emotional crisis tomorrow when she reaches the bottom. She holds it up.]
You have got to be kidding me.
[Why would he -- how did he even find this? She can't help laughing, and just like that, the hurt is gone. You don't dress sex dolls in stupid, perfect animal sweatshirts. She glances at the address on the card. It only takes a moment for her to make her decision.
She quickly strips down and puts on the first blue number. Takes a moment to admire herself with shy, awkward pleasure before pulling on her jeans and sliding on the hoodie.
She should sleep, or at the very least shower, but instead she creeps down the stairs and heads back down to the Underground.]
[ Hei enjoys the Underground at night. It's the lights more than the atmosphere; the glow that animates the place's ever-nocturnal spirit. Even in the gloom, there is a surreal brightness: streets alight with red-green-pink-blue rainbows of neon, the constellations of casinos and clubs, the brightly-lit store-fronts. That's not to say that it's cheerful. Rather, he appreciates the duality. Under the glitz and notorious glamor it's a lonely place, the volts of color little more than flashy bandages around an ugly gash. ]
[ Layers and masks. Everywhere he goes, it's all layers and masks. Still, there's a beauty to it. ]
[ Well, not beautiful is the way it was the last time he was here, cursed yet completely himself, picking off victims right and left, perfect calculation, no compunction. Good times that Iceman in him purrs. Clubs and alleys full of tasty morsels -- easy to pluck, but no harm, no foul. It's not like anyone would miss them. In many ways like a free buffet ... except thinking of it now puts Hei off his feed. ]
[ He's not caught in the throes of remorse. No self-flagellation -- literal or figurative. But his impulses are a tad constricted. The routine he subsists on is the same. Fights, kills, bodycounts, hunts. All necessary activities to hone his abilities. Stopping them altogether would be foolish. No, he'd made up his mind ages ago. He's a killer, and he has energies and talents that can be expended no other way. He'll do what he always does. But he won't let that vile Iceman thrive in it. That would be too easy. Each kill is a reminder that he'd gone too far once before and must never do so again. ]
[ He's not waiting for Korra per se. He has no idea how she'll take the little gift. (It's an indulgence -- an almost-apology -- for the way he'd fucked off without a word.) For now, seated at a restaurant with an open-air patio, he people-watches (re: keeps an eye on his periphery). There's a mark he's meant to tail, up in the Casino. But the man's so stupid Hei can get away with picking up his trail after a 24-48 hour gap. ]
[One thing Korra likes about the Underground is it takes a lot to get someone to look at you funny. Even in her polar bear dog hoodie, she doesn't get more than a passing glance from the other people on the street. (She probably blends in better, actually, since it obscures her curvaceous figure.)
She catches sight of Hei and smiles, shoving her hands in her pockets as she approaches him.]
Is there some occasion I don't know about? Pretty sure my birthday was a couple months ago.
[ Instantly, Hei spots her through the sea of moving pedestrians and flashing lights. Seeing her get-up, he's amused and endeared in equal parts. (The hoodie was an impulse buy, really. The cherry on the cake as much as a palliative. There was always a risk she'd see the lingerie as an affront -- a presumption -- rather than a brief indulgence. In the past he's gotten more expensive gifts in lieu of payment for professionals. Necklaces, bracelets, raw stones. But that would lead to gross misinterpretation on Korra's part. She's only eighteen, and there needs to be a personal -- quirky -- element in whatever he gives her.) ]
[ Stretching out a crick in his neck, Hei glances over at her and tries not to quirk a too-wide smile, ] Does there need to be a reason? [ Affectionate but also acutely aware of the level of bullshit in his answer. With him, there's always a reason. By now, Korra should know that as well as he does. ]
There always is. [It's not cynical, just amused. He's not Tarrlok, trying to bribe her into doing things she doesn't want to do with stuff she neither wants nor needs. And she has no emotional attachment to the idea of gifts, no sense there's something sacred an agenda would tarnish. (She's been given everything her entire life, after all. What makes a gift different from anything else?)
She slides into the seat across from him and rests her chin on her hand. So, what now?]
[ That's where the difference supposedly lies between normal (for a given definition of normal) well-raised kids and those on the fringes of society -- like Hei, like every Contractor, like every courtesan, like every professional who is regarded only as a tool, no attention or even lip-service paid to their human qualities. The 'better' half aren't interested in material goods, while the 'worse' half would sell their very souls for them. It's a concept Hei has always found funny. 'Normal' girls and boys are raised to value tangible possessions and achievements as much as any con-artist or whore. Cars, jewels, houses, job-titles, MBAs, lavish weddings. Society programs individuals for materialism and social prostitution. It just disdains those who follow it to its ultimate, logical conclusion. ]
[ Of course he doesn't say that. Maybe Korra's different, maybe she isn't. But the point is that she's too young to grasp the cynical subtleties yet. (Maybe she never will, unless she's pushed into a dire state of deprivation and desperation.) ]
[ Popping the last bit of sandwich in his mouth, Hei drains his coffee cup. Sets it aside to regard Korra's expectant little face. ] There is, [ he concurs, but dryly. ] Maybe I expect a Thank You. The kind that takes all night. [ He tells himself he doesn't mean it. But if he gets the opportunity, he'd be an idiot to pass it up. ]
[There's a little twinge of hurt and disgust, but she tells herself it's just tasteless joke. He has to know she can't be bought with a few pretty things. If he doesn't know that, he's no better than Tarrlok. If he doesn't know that, he doesn't know her at all.]
Thank you. [smiling, keeping her tone light] Doesn't take all night.
[Joke or not, that's something she wants to be perfectly clear. Her warmth and her touch cannot be bought or earned; when she gives them, and to whom she gives them, is always her choice and never out of obligation.]
[ He's misstepped; he can feel it in the mercurial shift of Korra's silence. Even on the simple matter of gifts, there's no end to the misconstruals between them. He hadn't meant to insult her; at the same time, her worldview has an idealism he'll never share. Everyone has a price. Everyone can be bought. Even Hei himself. (Sometimes he wonders if he'll ever get anything right with her. She always seems so sincere and straightforward, but both qualities are little more than rumors in his world. Distant ones at that.) Part of him feels glumly weightless, as if he's hovering above this situation, assessing it, smoothly mapping out exits. ]
[ The other half just puts out a hand, brushing a fingertip against her chin. Brief and barely-there, but honest. ]
Another haunted house? [ He doesn't mean it. If she's game for an all-nighter, he has something better in mind. ]
[Brief as it is, his touch makes her heart do a funny little skip. He can't be blamed for misstepping; he doesn't know about Tarrlok. He only has fragments of her history, a broken map of her sore points and insecurities.
She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table, and gives him a look that's equal parts amused and unimpressed.]
After last time? I think we'd be better off somewhere without ghosts.
[ Without ghosts. For a moment the words resonate strangely. Hei glances at her with seeming incomprehension, his gaze going vague and distant. In that split-second his face is caught in an honest reflection of his inner-world. There's nothing but ghosts everywhere I look. The surrealism of it fills both his dreams and waking thoughts. But he knows better than to play King Of the Hill with that pain. Better to keep it under lock-and-key, to let it out at a better time. In a fight, during a chase, where he can channel all that self-recrimination and wrath into ironclad resolve. ]
[ It's how he's survived so far, and what's kept him one step ahead of his opponents. ]
In that case, [ he searches for a venue that won't come with a trailer of baggage. Except that's easier said than done. Boo fucking hoo. Suck it up and move on. He sets some money on the table and hauls himself to his feet, hands slipping into his coat pockets, eyes fixed on hers. ] Follow me.
[Speaking of missteps....... He may have a broken map of her inner world, but she has nothing more than a candle's view of his, little better than walking blind. She doesn't understand what she said to make him go vague, and it's gone so quickly that she wonders if she simply imagined it. Does it matter either way? It's not like she can help him.
She stands and walks quickly to catch up. She doesn't try to touch him, but she walks closely enough for their arms to brush every few steps.]
[ She can't help him, no. She's not Pai -- there's no solid pavement between them of mutual suffering, no bloodbond or deathbond that makes them as familiar and easy as twins. But there's enough pain and antagonism between him and Korra than distills itself into a good-enough closeness. In a way, Hei knows the fragmented intimacy is worse than none at all, because if BK201'a curse is to be alone, to bring ruin to everyone tied to him, then he should be alone, no sparks of sunshine in the dark. Korra is just an excursionist in his solitude. One way or another, she'll exit back to her brighter life, and Hei will return to his, outside the City. A life where half his team is dead and the survivors are eddying around him, where he's surrounded by civilians who'll never really understand him, not be allowed to get too close, because that is his life, tasked to keep everyone else at an arm's length. ]
[ How depressing. He should just send Korra back home and tell her not to see him again. ]
[ Instead he tucks her hand into his coat pocket. The gesture is so natural it unnerves him. ] You'll see. [ He has his sights set on a particular hotel near the Casino. It's a spot he thinks of as his type of place -- neat, anonymous and private. In many ways: perfect. ]
[The impossibility of understanding and the pain of self-imposed isolation are, mercifully, far from her thoughts. She'll take this moment for all that it's worth.
She lets him take her hand and squeezes it gently.]
You've just got to make everything a secret, don't you?
[ Hei tries not to draw comparisons to the numerous times he's used love hotels as expedient safe-houses back home. With about ten thousand of them in Tokyo, enemies might suspect their quarry of hiding in one. But with no credit card required for registration, and fake names the norm, it'd take ages for them to track him down. Of course, that's not the case here. He's checking into a hotel for no reason but the obvious one. To civilians it might seem illicit and risque. But for Hei, the very straightforwardness of the fact makes it remarkably innocent. ]
"The real secrets are not the ones I tell," [ is his only answer, and to anybody else it might sound like a terse blow-off, but Hei is always adept at seeming one thing and being another. He's sure that Korra knows that too by now, in her own way. Lightly, he presses her hand and steers her to a street lined with tall buildings. Guides her straight into one, through heavy revolving doors that exhale warmth and light at every rotation, and into a wood-paneled lobby. ]
[He reminds her sometimes of Tenzin's stupid koans -- deliberately obtuse, meant to be contemplated but never actually understood. She makes a face at his predictably oblique response.
She leans a little into him as they walk inside, not looking down but not looking at anyone else in the lobby either. There's such a large space between the decision to act and the ability to act; it leaves too much time for thought and self-consciousness.
At least she's spared the nasty looks of Hei's neighbors. But she'll be glad when they're somewhere private.]
[ In Hei's experience, inviting a stranger into your space was often more of an intimate act than the sex itself. (In his profession, it's also often a foolish mistake. You can never be sure the other person is who they claim to be. ((Indeed, wasn't the whole point of a one-nighter to pretend you could be anyone but yourself?)) ) Except that's not his reason for picking the hotel. His apartment has no more homelike an atmosphere than an anonymous room does. But it's more convenient, more out-of-the-way. Less of a pattern that runs the risk of becoming a routine. ]
[ The fact that the walls here are soundproofed is an added bonus. ]
[ At the desk, the old man barely glances up as Hei pays for the night and signs some silly assumed name. In the mirrored elevator, he wants to kiss Korra; his skin feels hot where her fingers are curled around it. But the cart isn't unoccupied; glancing sideways at the mirror, he can see the reflection of one solitary guy doing something weird -- head tilted at an angle, eyes closed, nibbling at the air. Blearily, Hei stares at this odd reflection for a few moments before craning around to get a first-hand look at the man himself. ]
[ Hei takes in Korra's reaction and huffs -- not a laugh but a mild exhale tinged with amusement. Strange, how she's spent so many months working Underground, but remains oblivious to this feature about the garden-variety bloodsuckers. When the vampire and his squeeze get off at the sixteenth floor, he leans in to murmur in her ear, ]
It's rude to stare.
[ He doesn't really give her a chance to respond, though. Instead he tips her chin up in one hand to move his lips from her ear toward her mouth. It's not a particularly sweet kiss (he doesn't know how to do sweet. Doesn't know a lot of things anymore, in the wake of Heaven's War) but it's hungry and honest in its rough intensity, as he winds one arm around her shoulders, gripping the material of that childish hoodie tight in his fist, bending Korra's head back with the force of his mouth. He seems to imbibe her warmth like a spoonful of an illicit treat. Gorging on enough to be dizzy, bite after bite, after days of restraint. ] ]
[ He doesn't let go until the elevator chimes at the top floor. ]
[But but but WEEEEEIRD! (Not a lot of vampires in her bar) Her protest is lost in his mouth, and she finds that she doesn't really care. It's been two aching weeks and the only thing she wants is to feel him. Her hands grip his waist, pulling him closer. She hears the ding of the elevator but ignores it as irrelevant until he pulls away. She scowls at him with a little whimper of protest. What is he doing?!
Oh. Right. They've reached their floor. She can't help laughing a little at herself -- the combination of exhaustion and arousal is its own kind of intoxication -- before yanking him back in. She backs out of the elevator, lips locked against his, unwilling to concede an inch of ground.]
[ Feisty. Hei's half-smile fits against Korra's, edging at playful as he makes a noise into their kiss, something trapped partways between a growl and a hum. He lets her steer him out without protest, opening his mouth wider against hers only to gasp and to press in more of those searching, sucking kisses. Korra probably doesn't even realize the way she kisses him has changed. Shy sloppy puppy licks slipping into something smoother, something that's challenging and heady in equal turns. Under the dim lights, the long corridor smells vaguely antiseptic. Hei edges her toward the last door, not stumbling, keeping his direction on a straight course. (So many areas in which his training proves useful). ]
[ Backing her against the wall, he lets his hands drop to her waist, palms smoothing down the curve and dip of spine before he splays them over her rear to pull her hips in tight, his thigh fitted between hers. Yes, he does have plans to open the door, but right now he's too preoccupied with licking into her mouth while trying to fish the keycard out from his pocket one-handed. Give him a minute -- it's not exactly the best situation for full concentration. ]
[He can take as long as he wants as long as he doesn't move that thigh of his. She leans her shoulders back against the wall, giving herself better leverage to grind against him. Her legs squeeze his in a crushing grip.
Puffs of chilly air sneak through her loose hoody to hit bare skin at erratic intervals, and she just feels more aware of everything. The unfamiliar texture of her bra, how the patterned part rubs against the tops of her breasts while her nipples press out against smooth silk; the slight burn of his stubble on her chin, and the way she can catch find tastes of his last meal in their kiss.
Halfway down the hall, she can hear a door open and someone step out. For once she doesn't care. Let him watch if wants; he'll get a great show. Everything she cares about is pressed against her, sending waves of electricity to every extremity.
[ Hei dimly registers the door opening, and the tread of footsteps in the distance. Instead of nearing, they fade, which suits him fine. He's too keyed up, spilling over with filthy ideas and filthier sensations. He lets his thigh wedge tighter between Korra's tensed legs, rocking it in a slow back and forth motion that presses the thick center seam of her jeans tight against her. The fuzzy material of her hoodie makes his palm tingle; he runs his hand from her nape to the top of her jeans, then forward: sliding it along the ribs, cupping it over her breast, his thumb brushing the nipple through the layers of fabric. ]
[ He does find the keycard eventually, the door clicking open with a dull beep, and there's more urgency than finesse in the way he repockets it, fingers rough as he steers Korra into the room. He kicks the door shut with his heel, then leans back against it, pulling her so she falls against him, pressing her body into his. He gnaws her neck, licking his way slowly from her jawline to her ear. Traces his tongue around the rim before he breathes gently on it, a hot-cold rush of air. ]
[ Dizzy, he draws back a moment to regard her, lips in the faint shape of a smirk. It would be easy to let this escalate -- a repeat of their usual wild, messy, incoherent encounters. But he's in no particular rush. When he meant an all-nighter, he was serious. They have time. ]
[Is that a faint sensation of disappointment when the footsteps leave instead of coming closer? Hei gets the door open and she decides not to think about it. She bites her lip, fighting back little whimpers as his mouth carves a path up her neck. Her body feels empty and aching where his thigh used to be; her hips rock against his in a silent plea.]
What? [She leans forward to nip at his smirk. She likes the promises it hints at.]
[ The friction of her warm body, the whisper of her clothes against his, fills his sensorium; Hei is suddenly aware of how cool his coat is against her, how still his body alongside her restless one. Now that he's letting himself, now that they're alone, he's forcibly tamped down that flare of heat bubbling under the surface of his skin. His eyes slip half-shut at the scrape of her teeth, but he's intent on his resolution of going slow. In reply to her What? he kisses her again, but without hurry or escalation, with time to taste her and feel the heat of her mouth, the softness of her tongue. His arms are behind her back again, reaching around so he can stroke the sides of her breasts -- just a fleeting brush of fingertips. ]
[ The kiss is indulged for a long moment, long enough to let her go breathless under his mouth, and then he pulls away. One hand slips to her wrist. He tugs firmly, murmuring, ]
Come on.
[ Far be it for him to fuck anyone in a hotel room -- without logging its details first. ]
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Delivery - Dated Friday Night<3
[ At the very bottom of the box is a plain card with an address. Not of a motel but a street near the Casino in the Underground. If the gift -- is it a gift? or is it a gag? -- displeases, here is where Korra can go to toss the box at the sender's head. ]
Delivery - Dated Friday Night<3
When she opens the box, her first reaction is a kind of queasy hurt. Playing dress up with your sex doll, huh? She pulls each piece out, reluctantly admiring how beautiful they are but feeling like they're not really for her. They're intended for someone she doesn't want to be.
She's just about to shove them all back in the back and deal with that emotional crisis tomorrow when she reaches the bottom. She holds it up.]
You have got to be kidding me.
[Why would he -- how did he even find this? She can't help laughing, and just like that, the hurt is gone. You don't dress sex dolls in stupid, perfect animal sweatshirts. She glances at the address on the card. It only takes a moment for her to make her decision.
She quickly strips down and puts on the first blue number. Takes a moment to admire herself with shy, awkward pleasure before pulling on her jeans and sliding on the hoodie.
She should sleep, or at the very least shower, but instead she creeps down the stairs and heads back down to the Underground.]
Delivery - Dated Friday Night<3
[ Layers and masks. Everywhere he goes, it's all layers and masks. Still, there's a beauty to it. ]
[ Well, not beautiful is the way it was the last time he was here, cursed yet completely himself, picking off victims right and left, perfect calculation, no compunction. Good times that Iceman in him purrs. Clubs and alleys full of tasty morsels -- easy to pluck, but no harm, no foul. It's not like anyone would miss them. In many ways like a free buffet ... except thinking of it now puts Hei off his feed. ]
[ He's not caught in the throes of remorse. No self-flagellation -- literal or figurative. But his impulses are a tad constricted. The routine he subsists on is the same. Fights, kills, bodycounts, hunts. All necessary activities to hone his abilities. Stopping them altogether would be foolish. No, he'd made up his mind ages ago. He's a killer, and he has energies and talents that can be expended no other way. He'll do what he always does. But he won't let that vile Iceman thrive in it. That would be too easy. Each kill is a reminder that he'd gone too far once before and must never do so again. ]
[ He's not waiting for Korra per se. He has no idea how she'll take the little gift. (It's an indulgence -- an almost-apology -- for the way he'd fucked off without a word.) For now, seated at a restaurant with an open-air patio, he people-watches (re: keeps an eye on his periphery). There's a mark he's meant to tail, up in the Casino. But the man's so stupid Hei can get away with picking up his trail after a 24-48 hour gap. ]
action;
She catches sight of Hei and smiles, shoving her hands in her pockets as she approaches him.]
Is there some occasion I don't know about? Pretty sure my birthday was a couple months ago.
action;
[ Stretching out a crick in his neck, Hei glances over at her and tries not to quirk a too-wide smile, ] Does there need to be a reason? [ Affectionate but also acutely aware of the level of bullshit in his answer. With him, there's always a reason. By now, Korra should know that as well as he does. ]
action;
She slides into the seat across from him and rests her chin on her hand. So, what now?]
action;
[ Of course he doesn't say that. Maybe Korra's different, maybe she isn't. But the point is that she's too young to grasp the cynical subtleties yet. (Maybe she never will, unless she's pushed into a dire state of deprivation and desperation.) ]
[ Popping the last bit of sandwich in his mouth, Hei drains his coffee cup. Sets it aside to regard Korra's expectant little face. ] There is, [ he concurs, but dryly. ] Maybe I expect a Thank You. The kind that takes all night. [ He tells himself he doesn't mean it. But if he gets the opportunity, he'd be an idiot to pass it up. ]
action;
Thank you. [smiling, keeping her tone light] Doesn't take all night.
[Joke or not, that's something she wants to be perfectly clear. Her warmth and her touch cannot be bought or earned; when she gives them, and to whom she gives them, is always her choice and never out of obligation.]
But we could have some fun, if you're not busy.
action;
[ The other half just puts out a hand, brushing a fingertip against her chin. Brief and barely-there, but honest. ]
Another haunted house? [ He doesn't mean it. If she's game for an all-nighter, he has something better in mind. ]
action;
She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table, and gives him a look that's equal parts amused and unimpressed.]
After last time? I think we'd be better off somewhere without ghosts.
action;
[ It's how he's survived so far, and what's kept him one step ahead of his opponents. ]
In that case, [ he searches for a venue that won't come with a trailer of baggage. Except that's easier said than done. Boo fucking hoo. Suck it up and move on. He sets some money on the table and hauls himself to his feet, hands slipping into his coat pockets, eyes fixed on hers. ] Follow me.
action;
She stands and walks quickly to catch up. She doesn't try to touch him, but she walks closely enough for their arms to brush every few steps.]
Where are we going?
action;
[ How depressing. He should just send Korra back home and tell her not to see him again. ]
[ Instead he tucks her hand into his coat pocket. The gesture is so natural it unnerves him. ] You'll see. [ He has his sights set on a particular hotel near the Casino. It's a spot he thinks of as his type of place -- neat, anonymous and private. In many ways: perfect. ]
action;
She lets him take her hand and squeezes it gently.]
You've just got to make everything a secret, don't you?
action;
"The real secrets are not the ones I tell," [ is his only answer, and to anybody else it might sound like a terse blow-off, but Hei is always adept at seeming one thing and being another. He's sure that Korra knows that too by now, in her own way. Lightly, he presses her hand and steers her to a street lined with tall buildings. Guides her straight into one, through heavy revolving doors that exhale warmth and light at every rotation, and into a wood-paneled lobby. ]
action;
She leans a little into him as they walk inside, not looking down but not looking at anyone else in the lobby either. There's such a large space between the decision to act and the ability to act; it leaves too much time for thought and self-consciousness.
At least she's spared the nasty looks of Hei's neighbors. But she'll be glad when they're somewhere private.]
action;
[ The fact that the walls here are soundproofed is an added bonus. ]
[ At the desk, the old man barely glances up as Hei pays for the night and signs some silly assumed name. In the mirrored elevator, he wants to kiss Korra; his skin feels hot where her fingers are curled around it. But the cart isn't unoccupied; glancing sideways at the mirror, he can see the reflection of one solitary guy doing something weird -- head tilted at an angle, eyes closed, nibbling at the air. Blearily, Hei stares at this odd reflection for a few moments before craning around to get a first-hand look at the man himself. ]
[ Oh. ]
[ Just some guy making out with a vampire. ]
action;
WHY DOESN'T THAT PERSON HAVE A REFLECTION?!?!?!]
action;
It's rude to stare.
[ He doesn't really give her a chance to respond, though. Instead he tips her chin up in one hand to move his lips from her ear toward her mouth. It's not a particularly sweet kiss (he doesn't know how to do sweet. Doesn't know a lot of things anymore, in the wake of Heaven's War) but it's hungry and honest in its rough intensity, as he winds one arm around her shoulders, gripping the material of that childish hoodie tight in his fist, bending Korra's head back with the force of his mouth. He seems to imbibe her warmth like a spoonful of an illicit treat. Gorging on enough to be dizzy, bite after bite, after days of restraint. ]
]
[ He doesn't let go until the elevator chimes at the top floor. ]
action;
Oh. Right. They've reached their floor. She can't help laughing a little at herself -- the combination of exhaustion and arousal is its own kind of intoxication -- before yanking him back in. She backs out of the elevator, lips locked against his, unwilling to concede an inch of ground.]
action;
[ Backing her against the wall, he lets his hands drop to her waist, palms smoothing down the curve and dip of spine before he splays them over her rear to pull her hips in tight, his thigh fitted between hers. Yes, he does have plans to open the door, but right now he's too preoccupied with licking into her mouth while trying to fish the keycard out from his pocket one-handed. Give him a minute -- it's not exactly the best situation for full concentration. ]
Re: action;
Puffs of chilly air sneak through her loose hoody to hit bare skin at erratic intervals, and she just feels more aware of everything. The unfamiliar texture of her bra, how the patterned part rubs against the tops of her breasts while her nipples press out against smooth silk; the slight burn of his stubble on her chin, and the way she can catch find tastes of his last meal in their kiss.
Halfway down the hall, she can hear a door open and someone step out. For once she doesn't care. Let him watch if wants; he'll get a great show. Everything she cares about is pressed against her, sending waves of electricity to every extremity.
action;
[ He does find the keycard eventually, the door clicking open with a dull beep, and there's more urgency than finesse in the way he repockets it, fingers rough as he steers Korra into the room. He kicks the door shut with his heel, then leans back against it, pulling her so she falls against him, pressing her body into his. He gnaws her neck, licking his way slowly from her jawline to her ear. Traces his tongue around the rim before he breathes gently on it, a hot-cold rush of air. ]
[ Dizzy, he draws back a moment to regard her, lips in the faint shape of a smirk. It would be easy to let this escalate -- a repeat of their usual wild, messy, incoherent encounters. But he's in no particular rush. When he meant an all-nighter, he was serious. They have time. ]
action;
What? [She leans forward to nip at his smirk. She likes the promises it hints at.]
action;
[ The kiss is indulged for a long moment, long enough to let her go breathless under his mouth, and then he pulls away. One hand slips to her wrist. He tugs firmly, murmuring, ]
Come on.
[ Far be it for him to fuck anyone in a hotel room -- without logging its details first. ]
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action;
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