[ Hei's gaze shutters at the touch through his hair, the thumb imparting its warm caress, and his expression begins to alter, like a door slowly shutting. The whirlwind of emotion inside him rages on. But his nerves tingle, shields and masks kicking in, because while it really is a sad thing, how readily he turns himself off, a prostitution of the concept of honesty in a relationship -- it's also a bleak fact. He feels -- intensely and destructively. There's no denying that. But on the surface, there is only a controlled absence. ]
[ Korra's attention is bright as sunshine -- but he'd blacken and disintegrate under total exposure. ]
[ He's grateful when she doesn't try to talk. Kisses are a sweet welcome. Touch is simple. The dark growth of his mistakes, his doubts, weighs everything down when they're apart -- but here he can imprint upon her the undiluted truth. Curling his palm over her breast, he eats her mouth first with a lascivious tenderness, then with a deepening hunger. Heat flares across his body up into the roots of his hair; his wilted erection fills by degrees to an urgent thickness. ]
[ Breaking the kiss, he nudges her back. Dips his head, licking the flat of his tongue across one pebbly nipple. Catches the other between pinching fingers, then, as he switches breasts, gnawing teeth. An ache pounds behind his eyes, and with it, a sense of surrealism seethes at the margins, the awareness of the baby and everything it symbolizes. But the aroma of her excitement blooms out into the still bedroom air, blotting all worries out. ]
[ Nuzzling between her breasts, one palm starfishing her mons, he murmurs, ]
You want to lay on your side? Easier that way.
[ The dresser mirror is right across the futon; he can watch her face as he goes into her, fan his gaze up and down the ripe length of her at leisure. ]
no subject
[ Korra's attention is bright as sunshine -- but he'd blacken and disintegrate under total exposure. ]
[ He's grateful when she doesn't try to talk. Kisses are a sweet welcome. Touch is simple. The dark growth of his mistakes, his doubts, weighs everything down when they're apart -- but here he can imprint upon her the undiluted truth. Curling his palm over her breast, he eats her mouth first with a lascivious tenderness, then with a deepening hunger. Heat flares across his body up into the roots of his hair; his wilted erection fills by degrees to an urgent thickness. ]
[ Breaking the kiss, he nudges her back. Dips his head, licking the flat of his tongue across one pebbly nipple. Catches the other between pinching fingers, then, as he switches breasts, gnawing teeth. An ache pounds behind his eyes, and with it, a sense of surrealism seethes at the margins, the awareness of the baby and everything it symbolizes. But the aroma of her excitement blooms out into the still bedroom air, blotting all worries out. ]
[ Nuzzling between her breasts, one palm starfishing her mons, he murmurs, ]
You want to lay on your side? Easier that way.
[ The dresser mirror is right across the futon; he can watch her face as he goes into her, fan his gaze up and down the ripe length of her at leisure. ]