[ No, please don't do that. At the rate he's overloading, he might shut himself off completely, a fritzing psychological bluescreen, because he is so boiling with the stew of his emotions and want that the words, their ease, their soft exit across his tongue, their impermanence, seem almost one-dimensional. He wants instead to etch Korra into his mind and burn all her thoughts, her essence, into his hard drive. Laughable, because they're two different people, and if they're torn apart again, he can't hold on to even the smallest atom of her. Fragrance. Eyelash. A dusting of her skin. He'd realized that, during the bleak stretch of his journey in space. She's not here. I'm alone. I, I, I. And how dreary it was, to be alone on that massive ship, even amidst the bustle of the crew, even with Chekov's bright company, making 'I's at himself. ]
[ They could be little bones, these stand-ins for himself. A boring rune he'd cast, monotonous without Korra. ]
[ Forcibly, he lets the thoughts jostle loose and fade away. Better to focus on Korra: the way she whacks his shoulder, the flavor of her words, slurred and running together like a dizzyingly sweet syrup. He doesn't say anything. He just goes back to kissing her, his breath rising and straining in his lungs. She is delicious, wet, throbbing, and he can get off not only on the feel of her but the fact of her. It is all the gift of a random universe that has focused itself in the girl spilled beneath him. ]
[ With a low, prickly buzz in his throat, he melts into a deeper rhythm, where he can push base of his pubic bone against her mons, rocking inside her in a heavy, insistent pulse, the cadence of a heartbeat, and at the same time grind the heel of his hand roughly against Korra's clit. ]
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Date: 2014-12-16 04:36 am (UTC)[ They could be little bones, these stand-ins for himself. A boring rune he'd cast, monotonous without Korra. ]
[ Forcibly, he lets the thoughts jostle loose and fade away. Better to focus on Korra: the way she whacks his shoulder, the flavor of her words, slurred and running together like a dizzyingly sweet syrup. He doesn't say anything. He just goes back to kissing her, his breath rising and straining in his lungs. She is delicious, wet, throbbing, and he can get off not only on the feel of her but the fact of her. It is all the gift of a random universe that has focused itself in the girl spilled beneath him. ]
[ With a low, prickly buzz in his throat, he melts into a deeper rhythm, where he can push base of his pubic bone against her mons, rocking inside her in a heavy, insistent pulse, the cadence of a heartbeat, and at the same time grind the heel of his hand roughly against Korra's clit. ]