abrupt re-awakening

[anatural]

WHO: Hei & Korra
WHAT: Korra’s hormones are back in business

[For once, it's not a nightmare that wakes Korra up. She doesn't remember what she was dreaming about before an ache between her legs pulls her from sleep. At first she thinks she has to go to the bathroom, until she shifts slightly and her breasts suddenly come alive. She stares up at the ceiling. After months of wanting nothing, she's abruptly, painfully aroused, so turned on that she can't even sleep. A part of her resents the timing, since a decent night's sleep is hard to come by, and a part of her is just delighted that she can feel this again, that she's not actually broken.

She glances over at Hei, debating whether to wake him. Except he's sleeping so peacefully, something which is as rare for him as it is for her. He's had a long day at work and an early shift in the morning; he needs all the sleep he can get. It can wait.

She closes her eyes and tries to go back to sleep, but her level of arousal is almost painful and her mind just makes it worse by conjuring memories of her various sexual escapades. It latches particularly onto that muay thai match, when Hei almost brought her to orgasm in the middle of the crowded audience. She can't stop thinking about the way his fingers felt inside of her, nor does she really want to.

Damn it. She bites her lip, squeezes her eyes shut, and slides her hand between her legs. Just a quick one, enough to let her sleep again, one that won't wake Hei up. She can surprise him tomorrow night, when he doesn't have to wake up early the next day.]

Comments

[anatural]

[And Korra's still crying. It's like the climax broke down a wall inside her and now everything is pouring out. Relief that she's reclaimed this part of her at last. The frustration and pain she's been doing her best to bottle up. The terror of feeling herself destroyed. She cries like someone who's finally been reunited with a loved one they feared lost forever. In a way, that's exactly what's happened. She's always felt the most herself in motion, pushing her body to its limits, acting as a force for good in the world. She's been cut off almost entirely from that which makes her her; it's a blinding, blessed, blissful relief to find it's still there. She's still there.]

[mortemscintilla]

Korra...

[ A woozy panic laps at Hei as she sobs. Her tears seem to spurt out unstoppably, drawn like iron fillings to a magnet. For a moment he's seized by that usual old fear -- of having done something to hurt her, of having triggered a hideous wash of memory that's flooded past the valves of her brain. But he's not so stupid as to realize, as a few beats pass, that this isn't grief. This is relief. As if she's tumbled past the lip of a cascading disaster, enthralled to find some part of herself whole. ]

[ It makes Hei realize, with a dull spasm of shock, how deep her fear extended. Fear that she'd never be the same, that her injury had extinguished that brilliant spark inside her. But pressure can turn fear into momentum as surely as pressure turns coal into a diamond. Fear is an internal emotion: it gets trapped inside of you. You have to let it out. And it has -- a fresh surge of energy and emotion breaking from her depths. Geysering. ]

[ With a slow breath, Hei gathers her closer. He can feel his throat aching; a hot stinging congestion in his eyes. He wants so much to tell her he loves her. To just blurt it out. But he is wary, as always, that it might not be a strategic moment. Wary that it might put some indefinable pressure on her, wary that this is just a phase, that she is too young for him, that he is being idiotic. But he does. God, he loves her. ]

[ Gently, he rocks her against him, her head tucked under his chin. His throat is still a knot; he tries for dry levity to dispel the feeling. ]

...Was it that bad?

[anatural]

[She laughs through her tears, and the conflicting actions trigger a spasm of coughing that renders her unable to speak. Coughing, laughing, crying, she punches his chest. After another few minutes, she manages to get herself under control. She rolls off of him and curls up against his side. Her insides feel battered & empty, but the rest of her body is replete with contentment.]

I guess I really needed that. [She takes the cue from his own dry tone. By nature, she's also shy of showing her vulnerabilities, preferring to hide them with humor or ignore them entirely. She's learning, bit by bit, to be more open with them, but she won't share them with someone who seems uncomfortable.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She curls against him, and Hei puts up a hand to gently scrub the tear-stains off her face. Learning her ears and jaw, mapping the curve of her cheekbone inwards to the bridge of her nose, in a way that's both offhand and strangely reverent, while his eyes drift half-closed, heavy with a drowsy happiness. ]

[ It's true, he doesn't do emotion, He doesn't light up when he talks about things that make him content, doesn't drift into dreamy nostalgia, his tone doesn't drop into volatile irritation when he's tired. He's even. But with Korra, there's a vibrating skein of fondness he can't quite sever. The sort that gets wrapped up in softness and tucked away where you forget it's there. The sort you can conceal, but not necessarily erase. ]

[ Letting his forehead drop against hers, he teases gently, ]

Anytime you're up for a reprise, let me know.

[ Somewhere very far back in his head, he thinks about it being two in the morning, and his having to be up in a few short hours. He'd quietly regret the state he's going to be in at work, especially come noon -- except it doesn't matter. This was worth it. He's vastly underestimated his own burgeoning tension; only now, when it's deflated, does he realize what a head of silent stress he was building. ]

[anatural]

[She hums and kisses him.]

Do you work the day after tomorrow?

[Her hands drift down to run her hands over his hips and buttocks, a tacit promise.]

[mortemscintilla]

I can stay in. With the right incentive.

[ He presses into her touch with a light shiver, mellow and stretchy as taffy, folding himself to her body in a damp, welcome drape of limbs. It's an effort to keep his languid, molesting hands off her, but he succeeds, distracting himself to shuck the condom in the wastebin. He promises himself when she is well again, back to her usual 110% percent -- ye, having passed through the Valley of the Possible Death Wish -- he's going to screw her until it's nearly a walking, fucking black-out, a haze filling her brain, a cyclone. Make her all rosy and dreamy-eyed and sleek, the way she was during the early days of their affair, when a good leg-over affected her like a deep-body massage, a good meal, a rousing round of exercise, all in one. ]

[ For now, he simply tips a kiss to her nose. Draws the covers over them, the good Korra-elements of salt and skin and heat and waves of hair twined to the material chaos of the fluffy quilt. ]

[ Quieter, almost inaudible, he murmurs, ]

I missed this.

[ Missed the Korra he could feel, sometimes, curled up frightened and alone inside the dull fragile shell of her. Knowing she was healing, hibernating, and that she'd wake up in time -- but missing her all the same. ]

[anatural]

You should stay in. [Korra wishes he would let his hands wander a bit more; she'd go for a round two right now if she wasn't being mindful of his work. She settles for nuzzling him with a contented sigh, and almost misses his whisper. I missed this. She tightens her grip around him in reflexive sympathy & apology.]

Me too. [Her hand drifts down to rub his thigh, just next to his balls.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She's stroking a good spot, the one that makes him ripple like a big cat against her. It's tempting to let her keep going, or better yet to guide her palm; he can feel his cock twitch with a faint, drunken interest -- a sluggish thickening. But he simply takes her hand in his, lifting it up to his mouth to kiss the knuckles, then the warm little fingers. He still isn't yet used to letting her be the recipient of softness -- soft kisses, soft sex, soft talk -- but he kind of likes it, even if it's patterned on the way he was with other women (marks) when intimate. Doesn't matter, because the raw ache of tenderness, the honesty -- all that is something entirely new. It seems to come easier than expected, big mushball that he's secretly always dreaded he is. ]

[ After a beat, drawing her closer into the circle of his arms, he murmurs, ]

Get some sleep. Best not to overdo it in one night, right?

[ A reminder for himself as much as her. ]

[anatural]

[Just because he's right doesn't mean she has to like it. There's something distinctly pouty in her sigh as she pillows her head on his arm. (Hard to believe that, once upon a time, he could hardly stand to touch her after sex. She'd get maybe a minute of cuddling and then he'd bolt out of bed like she was a wild animal and he wanted to get away without triggering her predatory instincts.)

She kisses his chest and closes her eyes.]