fuse_box | obviously

[ She doesn't flail and shriek like earlier. That, at least, is a relief. ]

[ Even so, he has to shut down the flare of unsettling disquiet that flickers in his chest. This whole situation is so exploitative. For him. Especially for her. Just because he's doing this, coaxing that first stirring of heat from her, not by force or command, but with subtle teasing and soft caresses -- doesn't make it any less of a violation. Only a stone statue could remain unaffected by it, and even the most confused, reluctant, frightened teenage girl is no statue. ]

[ Except it doesn't matter how grody it seems to him. He just wants it to be over. ]

[ Resting his elbows on the dummy's spread thighs, he combs cool-tipped fingers through surprisingly soft hair. Smooths it outward, to better reveal that dark folds of labia, the hooded pink nub of clitoris. This close, he can smell her. Heavy, oceany, but not unpleasant. She isn't wet yet, but she's getting there. He can see the moisture gathering, the pinkish inner-lips glistening with it. ]

[ Carefully, he teases the folds of her sex with his thumb. Spreads the slickness out and up, across her clit, into the curls. In his peripheral vision, he can see the girl lolling back. Her little mouth is half open, as if she is gasping; her brows are drawn together as if by a thread of tension. She seems both tipsily languid and distractedly restless. His eyes are drawn, against their will, to the sleek lines of her body, the small strong hands caressing her own breasts. For a beat, he wonders what she's fantasizing about. In the next, he tells himself it doesn't matter. Just as long as she's relaxed enough to make his task easier. ]

[ With his thumb, he traces slick whorls across the stiffening peak of her clit. The index finger slips a little way between her plump lips -- not in, but on, staying on the outside, working slow whorls, deeper and deeper by degrees, in a sort of subtle mimicry of fucking. ]

[ Without any sighs or coos, any verbal cues to guide him, he goes by visuals. Gaze slanting to the girl, every so often, to see what works for her and what doesn't. ]

[Well, it seems like she figured out the right thing to do. Korra can hear air being pumped back into the room, which helps her relax. Breathing is good. Breathing is sexy.

The fingers? Not so...well, maybe. It's just so different than fingering herself, and not just because there's nothing actually fingering her. It's weird not having control, not actually feeling her own touch. Every sensation is a surprise. Which is really sexy when she doesn't think about what's really happening... if only it were that easy. The floor is uncomfortable; the metal underwear digs into her sides, and she dumped Mako three months ago.

This is the first time she's ever had any problems approaching climax; normally all she has to do is grind a little on a chair to achieve a miniature climax. She pulls up her shirt and slides her hands under her sarashi, trying to comfort herself with the familiar feeling of her own hands. All she needs to do is come and that door will open. Come on.]

[ Breathing isn't sexy. Breathing is a goddamn imperative -- and Hei gratefully scoops air back into his lungs like it's going out of style. ]

[ His eyes are drawn over and over to the girl. Her face is a minefield of animation -- sweet and intense. Even from his cell, he can tell she's shuttering between fever and frustration. It's a frustration for him, too. There's no way to ask what she wants. How she likes to be touched. Whether he should go faster or slower. He can only navigate by instinct. ]

[ With the thumb and forefinger of both hands, he parts the plump folds of vulva to expose her twitching clit. Strokes the pads of his thumbs across the pillow-soft, slippery-hot skin on either side of it, teasing her, working her higher, but not daring to get too rough, in case she gets oversensitized and her arousal fades to discomfort. ]

[ There's got to be an easier way. ]

[ Then: Oh. ]

[ The epiphany is thick, slow, rolling in and out like a wave. Leave it to him to ignore the obvious solution. Dipping his head, he licks soft-tongued right across her entrance. Experimental, almost tentative -- but she tastes clean, he notes with relief. Exhaling, he laves at the salt-slick topography of her inner-lips, and at the same time slips his thumb down along her folds. He sinks it halfway into the wet, heated opening -- she is very tight, disturbingly virginal -- even as he covers the peak of her clit with his mouth. Humming, he starts to suck softly, rocking his thumb inside her with the same pulsing rhythm. ]

[Korra screams and flails, blasted out of her tentative fantasy by a wholly alien sensation. The only thing it reminds her of is Naga licking her, and the idea of her friend licking her down there is, frankly, absolutely disgusting. Her stomach clenches and she feels like she's going to throw up -- except it's not nausea. It's the most mechanical, uncomfortable climax she's ever had, barely even worth the name except for the fact that the door opens.

She uses air bending to help push herself to her feet and runs for the exit, not even caring about the pants and come-encrusted jacket she's leaving behind.

Which is just as well, because there's some kind of field just past the door, and it destroys all her remaining clothing. She finds herself in an elevator wearing only that strange metal underwear, her long hair tickling her sensitive breasts. She wraps her arms around her breasts and shivers as the elevator takes her up.

She's ejected into a room much like the one she just left, except there's a man in this one, as naked as she is. Before she can say anything to him, a bright light zaps them both. Korra blinks until she can see again -- then wishes she hadn't.

The man has her vagina between his legs, on top of the metal underwear like some bizarre appliqué. A faint tickle against her thigh makes her look down. Evidently she's got his penis.]

[ Hei was expecting, after the girl thrashed to completion and the doors sprang open, that he'd be transferred to a different cell. At which point, there were two options. Either he'd be killed, or examined by some group of mysterious men in white coats, like a frog for dissection. ]

[ As it turns out, both would've been preferable. ]

[ Instead, he's in a white-lit room. Naked, cold, alone with that same strange girl. Red spots burst in his line of sight, fed by the bright flash, fading as he blinks slowly. When he can re-focus, he regards the girl -- and sees his penis flopping pale and incongruous between her legs. And between his own? Shit. Shit. Hei's heart wallops in his chest, missing beats. There's no way this is possible. It's absolutely freakish, and obscene, and so utterly fucking wrong. ]

[ He has a pussy. Hers. ]

[ Forcibly, he tries not to yell. It's easy to lapse into blind frantic horror-flick panic. Certainly, in his place, the average adult would. They lack the nimbleness of mind required to believe in such things -- but also to cope with them. And so when they find themselves in a situation where that nimbleness is needed, they can't summon it. They fall to pieces: go insane, panic, suffer heart attacks and aneurysms brought on by fright. Why? They simply don't believe it could be happening. ]

[ Unfortunately, with the carnival-catastrophe that is his life, Hei can fully believe it's happening. ]

[ But that doesn't mean he can accept it. ]

[ Glowering, he whips about, trying to determine if this cell is any different from the first one. It's not. Clearly they're still subjects of a bizarre experiment -- one that isn't over, and keeps twirling in a carousel of sickening horrors. ]

[Korra is surprisingly unbothered by the switching of their private parts. It's weird, sure, but freaking out about how weird it is isn't going to help anything.

What matters is that there's a real live person here now. She's no longer dealing with this alone.]

Who are you? Where are we?

[It doesn't occur to her that they might not speak the same language.]

[ Hei glances toward the girl. It's the first time he's heard her speak. A deep voice, at odds with her snub and terribly child-like face, with the way she jitters even in stillness as if powered by the steam of ten supercharged teenagers. He doesn't avoid glancing at her breasts, imperfectly covered by her spilling hair -- but he doesn't stare at them, either. ]

[ His attention is snagged by her words. He'd expected the guttural, utterly foreign intonations of something resembling Inuktitut. Instead, she speaks in something that vaguely pings off his brain with an eerie deja vu. He can understand it; it's a sister of the Wu dialect from back when he was a boy, a strange blur of Shanghainese, the same two-tone pitch as Japanese, with nuances of the standard Mandarin spoken in the rest of China. ]

[ Eyes narrowed, he stares at her. Reminds himself that, in the world of language, there are words that sound alike but can have different meanings. The best way to determine what she speaks -- whether they can communicate -- is to flex her vocabulary. ]

[ Cautiously, his eyes still fixed to her like circles of dark, inky ice, ]

I don't know.

[ He uses the dialect of Wu Chinese. Repeats the sentence again, in Japanese, then in Mandarin, before shaking his head, in case none of the variations ring a bell for her. ]

[Blink. Blink.]

Why are you repeating the same thing three different ways? I understood you the first time. And don't you even know your own name?

[She's being snappy. And she realizes suddenly that he can see her breasts, which is somehow even more embarrassing than the fact he can see her muff. She crosses her arms again, turning pink.]

[ All right. She can understand him. That, at least, is promising. Hei doesn't rise to her snark -- although there is a faint, irritable tickle in his bones, unfamiliar-yet-not, his lips quivering open as if to snap Of course I know my name, before dropping shut again. ]

[ Blinking, he stares at her. Why is she hunching up? ]

[ Then: Oh. ]

I'm not interested in your goodies.

[ His expression falls short of an eyeroll. But a certain tetchiness in his scowl measures the difference. Cute as she is, she's just a damn child. Anyway -- in light of the mess they're in, it's better for him to look at her without a glimmer of physical interest. More for the sake of her (misplaced) modesty than any gallantry on his part, he averts his gaze just a skedge. ]

[ In a different tone, more businesslike, ]

Do you remember anything before ending up here?

[What's wrong with her goodies? Korra scowls, offended by his tone even though she doesn't actually care if he finds her attractive or not. He doesn't have to sound like such a snot about it.]

I was asleep when they took me. I don't remember anything. [Her nails dig into her sides as she tries to keep calm. She really wishes she had actual clothing on right now.]

What about you?

Same.

[ Except not really. The day it happened had been pretty typical, in the way that typical, for a while there, had come to mean non-problematic. He'd been tracking a mark through the brightly-colored maze of stalls in Ameyoko, short for Ameya-Yokochō, Candy Alley, out in Tokyo. An ordinary summer day -- which in this case meant swelteringly warm. Listening to Huang's gruff instructions on his earpiece, he'd paused, an unnoticed pebble in the heavy pedestrian river, to buy a cup of iced watermelon juice from a rheumy-eyed vendor. Eyeing the target, he'd spotted him heading towards the public bathroom, and he'd planned to follow, kill him in passing with a choice electric shock, let any witnesses think he'd died of a sudden fatal stroke. ]

[ Maybe he would have. If Hei had been there. ]

[ Shaking it off, he focuses on the matter at hand. He can feel the girl's tension ratcheting up notch after painful notch; her nails are white where they dig into her arms. Determined not to be affected by that same creeping panic, he contemplates what this latest experiment is about. Except he doesn't need to. Judging by the swapped sex-parts, it's sickeningly clear what their captors are after. ]

[ That doesn't mean they'll get it. ]

[ Flatly, ]

You understand you've [ we've ] been abducted by someone interested in sexual experimentation, right?

[Korra barks a harsh, bitter laugh.]

Oh believe me, I'm aware. I just -- [She doesn't even want to go into the violation she just endured.] We're naked. Their intentions are pretty obvious.

[Sex. This is so not even remotely in the realm of how she planned to have sex for the first time. Okay, no, she never really thought about her first time, but in all her fantasies, it's been intimate. Passionate. Sometimes silly. Not cold and detached, with a stranger she didn't choose and bizarre rearrangements of body parts.]

So. How're we going to do this? [Since she can't muscle her way out of here, her plan is to play along until they reach whoever's in charge. But she's open to alternatives.]

[ Hei's gut is a faint twist of guilt, but he ignores it. Part of him is surprised she's suggesting sex at all -- especially in light of everything that's happened. She wouldn't be half so blithe, he imagines, if she knew he was the one oh-so-subtly molesting her from the neighboring cell. ]

[ It's better if she doesn't find out. ]

We're not doing anything.

[ He says it with deliberate stolidity, letting the stone of his words sink into the air, feeling invisible ripples of doubt within his chest, and not caring. Being in this cell -- dick-less, ball-less and nude -- reminds him of how little control he has over anything, least of all his body. He instinctively doesn't want to trust any aspect of the experiment. Though it is a mistake to trust anything here -- the girl, the rearranged cocks and cunts, the implication that he'll be released if he's cooperative. ]

[ Out loud, ]

If their intentions are so obvious ... did it occur to you this might be a controlled test on breeding?

[ Meyer & Hilton were notorious for it. The Syndicate too, kept its share of Contractor breeding-stock; a convenient supply of baby-fresh, ready-made soldiers. Who was to say this "Aperture" was any different? ]

...huh?

[No, that didn't occur to her at all, because she's not a fucked up lunatic. She doesn't even understand what her experience thus far would have to do with breeding in the first place. It's all been about the experience of sex, not the utility of it.]

[ In Hei's profession, experience for experience's sake is worth nothing. Everything is a means to an end. The idea that he and this strange girl have been plucked out of their lives as breeding stock is demeaning, a sign that their abductors don't care about their accomplishments or individuality -- but it is also perfectly plausible, given the world he belongs to, the dehumanizing superstructure of his existence. ]

[ From the honest confusion shaping the girl's face, it's clear it hasn't occurred to her. Why would it? She's not a Contractor -- or, from the looks of it, anyone remotely affiliated with the Syndicate. ]

[ (So why is she here? And what is the secret to those supernatural abilities of hers?) ]

[ Quietly, half-musing, half-dismissive, ]

I guess ... they'd go about it differently if they wanted breeding-stock. [ Reluctantly, he drags his gaze from her face, and regards the pale dangling penis between her legs. ] No sense in swapping parts, either. Unless it's to prevent assault or injury.

[ That, at least, makes sense. In the previous cell, they'd been threatened with oxygen deprivation the moment they'd gotten too rough with each other's bits. ]

This whole place is an assault. [Her words come out snarky but surprisingly light, as though the fact of violation is known without really being felt. Compartmentalization has kicked in, leaving her reasonably calm and clear-headed. (There's still a knee-jerk instinct to cover her crotch when he looks at it, even though it's his penis.)]

If you have any bright ideas for getting out of here, I'm all ears. Otherwise, let's just get this over with. [At some point they'll have to interact with an actual scientist -- someone she can beat up to get something done. Korra wants to get to that point as soon as possible.

More importantly, the air feels a little thin in this room... Not dangerously so, but enough to make her a little light-headed, as well as a reminder of that threat behave or suffocate. She doesn't want to die naked wearing a strange man's penis.]

[ Hei doesn't answer her. For the life of him, he can't figure out why she's so amenable to fucking with swapped body-parts. There is no guarantee that if they comply, their circumstances will improve. It's just as likely the tests could escalate, an unfurling carousel of the freakish and bizarre and the just plain crazy. ]

[ But what other choice is there? The cell is impenetrable. The air seems to be dissipating, the warning hanging in the emptiness like a foul stench. Have sex or die. He can't decide whether to be pissed or resigned to the knowledge. Teeth gritted, he focuses on trying to relax his tense muscles, lower his heart-rate and keep the lines of his face from knotting into a glower that telegraphs the extent of his disgust. ]

[ He doesn't speak to the girl. He simply darts a hand out -- fast as a striking snake -- to poke at the penis (his penis) hanging between her thighs. A test, to see whether the tactile elements, the sensory baseline, is his own body or hers. ]

[Geez, Hei, give a warrior some warning, would you? Korra reacts instinctively to protect herself (having no way of knowing that he only wants to touch his junk); she uses her air bending to upset his balance as she spins out of reach in one graceful movement.]

What was that!?! We're supposed to be in this together!

[It's bad enough they're in a situation that requires they assault each other.

On the up side, while Hei didn't get to touch his dick, the movement from the air bending should be enough to prove to him that it's still connected to his brain, if not the rest of his body.]

[ He's startled by the wind-blast -- but only for a split-second. Whirling through the air, unbalanced by the momentum, he's lands on his feet; neat, almost catlike. This girl is no Contractor, But she's got impressive -- and mystifying -- abilities, ones she's clearly been trained to use in combat. Who is she? More importantly, who does she work for? ]

[ Hei would ask. But the stirrings of motion draw his focus to the swinging penis between her legs, reassuring him that it's still wired to his head. Meaning their sex-parts were swapped as a possible safety measure, so one test subject doesn't force themself on the other. Practical -- if the goal is purely sexual, rather than reproductive. ]

[ Could that be all they're after? Clinical consummations, clinical climaxes. It is surreal. Like the plot for a sci-fi porno. ]

[ He mirrors her movements by instinct, the graceful spin of her body making him turn with her, like teeth in one cog turning another. But his energies are neutral, non-threatening; he raises both hands, palm up, in a gesture of truce. (She doesn't know how much damage he can do with just his hands. Or how fast.) ]

[ Flatly, ]

I'm making sure it's connected to my brain. [ A beat, then: ] You'll have to endure considerable contact -- if you're willing to do this.

[You could have ASKED. Korra does her best to repress a scowl. Clearly she needs to be the adult in this situation, which means no hurling fireballs at his head no matter how much he deserves it. (Seriously. What kind of idiot makes an unprovoked attack instead of going "Hey, I want to make sure that penis is mine. Can I touch it?")

Her opinion of him doesn't improve any at that condescending addition.]

If "considerable contact" means more surprise attacks, I'm pretty sure you're doing sex wrong. [It's called "foreplay", idiot.]

It wasn't an attack.

[ As far as he's concerned, he's entitled to handle his own penis. Even if it is dangling from between a stranger's legs. (She's free to do the same with him; he's long ago repressed that cold-water shudder of having his space invaded against his will -- it's sister to that chilling pliancy whores employ when they look with unblinking blankness into the eyes of dangerous customers, persuading them that they're more useful alive and yielding, than strangled and uncooperative.) ]

[ At her remark, I'm pretty sure you're doing sex wrong, his gaze shutters, half-assessing, half-amused. He wonders how much of her feisty bravado is a deliberate suppression of her own anxieties while dealing with him, with the predicament they're in. ]

[ Mildly, ]

Have you done this before?

[ Sex, he means. He hopes she'll answer honestly. This is one of those games you can't bluff your way out of. ]

[Yeah, like he'd react so well to her shooting her hand at him out of nowhere with no indication of her intentions. That would go over REAL well. ]

If you don't want it to look like an attack, try telling me what you're going to do before you actually go and do it.

[However mild his tone, she can't help taking offense at his question. People have used her ignorance and inexperience against her too many times -- Tarrlok and Unalaq especially. They've used their "expertise" to make her think up was down and left was right. She's not going to let this asshole manipulate her into anything because she's a virgin.] What does that even matter? You don't have to be some kind of "sexpert" to know you shouldn't touch people out of nowhere. [Like kissing Mako that first time, although that was a bad idea for a wholly different reason.]

Fine. I'll ask permission next time.

[ His tone of voice communicates disdain for its own sake, the hard wood of indifference in a man who doesn't care how he gets nailed, so long as the nailing is over and done with. But his body speaks a different language and, deceptively easygoing, he takes a step closer. It's not to intimidate her; just a test to see if she'll balk. ]

[ To his way of thinking, her huffiness delineates the classic fanfare of misunderstood youth. Maybe she's used to being condescended to, put down, or otherwise devalued for her age. Hei knows what that's like; he'd never throw a party for all the tribulations that turned him into the killer, but he's never forgotten what it was like to be treated as weak and worthless, either; an expendable human in a sea of preternatural predators. ]

[ Quieter, ]

No such thing as a 'sexpert.' [ Anyone who purports to be one is lying. Bodies are easy to dismantle or distract -- but they're never predictable. ] I'm asking so I'll know what to expect.

[What. An. Ass. The idea of getting intimate with him is becoming progressively more unpleasant. But whenever Korra thinks about trying to find another way out, she remembers the feeling of suffocating. The idea of enduring that again - no. No way. Having sex with this asshole is preferable to that.

She takes a deep breath, centering herself as best she can.]

I'm pretty new to this. Is that what you needed to know?

[ A nod. He doesn't bother to speak; he has the distinct impression it would piss her off. As it is, she's giving him the full treatment of those baby blue tractor beams she calls eyes. Personally he'd prefer to get everything over and done with -- it's easy to default to a hard fast wham-bam-thank-you, a quick exit strategy rooted in lies and distance. This is what his sexual life has become, since he's lost faith in the idea that there will ever be anything better. Since he's consigned love to the four-letter obscenity it is, because what sane person can afford to be so idiotically mush-brained? ]

[ Still, he knows it's better to progress in tiny increments here. The sheer discomfort of the situation, and of his novice partner-to-be, calls for a measure of patience. ]

[ Keeping his tone matter-of-fact, ]

We'll have to figure out the technicalities. [ Between the swapped parts, the usual alignment of tab A to slot B is going to be clumsier -- messier -- than usual. But they can focus on that later. For now... ]

[ His gaze slews toward her, a soft dark prodding, ]

Is there a particular way you'd prefer things? Some way to get comfortable?

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