[ Holding her against him with one arm, he reaches for the towels with the other. There is an element of heartbreaking ritual in the way she lets him move her around, coax her arms up like an obedient child to be dried off, to have her hair toweled into a damp fluffy tumble. His erection, twitching sluggishly with its weight, swings between them, yet his attention is completely fragmented. Everything both fans out and funnels toward Korra: the moist heat of her clasped in his arms, the way her pulse thrums under his stroking fingertips, her bracing scent in the steamy air. ]
[ He almost doesn't want to go to bed. Cradling her for a moment with her head tucked in beneath his chin, he rocks her just slightly, a lulling motion as if to draw the last of the tension out of them both, as if by some charm. He wants to just close his eyes and hold her like this forever, with her cool smooth cheek nestled in the curve of his neck. ]
[ He can't say that, though. Half-steering, half-scooping her up, he leads her out of the bathroom, into the dark airy bedroom. The windows are steamed up as cold rain rattles outside: in the blue-gray gloom, Hei clings to Korra for a moment, a dizzy sway, almost as if dancing. In other circumstances, a CD or something sliding into music, he might have humorously let himself go, danced her in a slow circle to the beat -- except he's too conscious of his dick's rude ache between them. ]
[ He spills them back across the futon. His movements are clumsy, yet practiced with long-standing familiarity. Hovering over Korra, he takes in the sight of her. In the semi-dark, with her wet hair in disarray and her eyes dreamily half-furled, she looks misleadingly seventeen again. The heat of her body against his carries that same glad welcome as when you lurch out of bed on a cold 7 am and are met with the smell of brewing coffee with a sense of bliss. ]
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Date: 2015-07-21 03:17 am (UTC)[ Holding her against him with one arm, he reaches for the towels with the other. There is an element of heartbreaking ritual in the way she lets him move her around, coax her arms up like an obedient child to be dried off, to have her hair toweled into a damp fluffy tumble. His erection, twitching sluggishly with its weight, swings between them, yet his attention is completely fragmented. Everything both fans out and funnels toward Korra: the moist heat of her clasped in his arms, the way her pulse thrums under his stroking fingertips, her bracing scent in the steamy air. ]
[ He almost doesn't want to go to bed. Cradling her for a moment with her head tucked in beneath his chin, he rocks her just slightly, a lulling motion as if to draw the last of the tension out of them both, as if by some charm. He wants to just close his eyes and hold her like this forever, with her cool smooth cheek nestled in the curve of his neck. ]
[ He can't say that, though. Half-steering, half-scooping her up, he leads her out of the bathroom, into the dark airy bedroom. The windows are steamed up as cold rain rattles outside: in the blue-gray gloom, Hei clings to Korra for a moment, a dizzy sway, almost as if dancing. In other circumstances, a CD or something sliding into music, he might have humorously let himself go, danced her in a slow circle to the beat -- except he's too conscious of his dick's rude ache between them. ]
[ He spills them back across the futon. His movements are clumsy, yet practiced with long-standing familiarity. Hovering over Korra, he takes in the sight of her. In the semi-dark, with her wet hair in disarray and her eyes dreamily half-furled, she looks misleadingly seventeen again. The heat of her body against his carries that same glad welcome as when you lurch out of bed on a cold 7 am and are met with the smell of brewing coffee with a sense of bliss. ]