that's not how you do it

[anatural]

WHO: Korra & Hei
WHAT: Hei’s made himself scarce and Korra is sick of it.

[It has not been a good month for Korra. The people of Republic City haven't taken well to their new spirit neighbors, and most of the spirits seem to agree. By and large they just won't talk to her. The president has been calling Tenzin almost every day with new complaints and, for the past two weeks, these ridiculous vines have been overrunning sections of the city and nothing she does can get rid of them. It's been one Avatar failure after another.

Her boyfriend killing her uncle has basically been the highlight of the whole thing. But of course, after more or less telling her he loves her, he vanished. The little twerp who lives in his building always took great delight in telling her that Hei wasn't around, so she knew nothing had happened to him. He's just doing that avoidant bullshit he likes to do, and Korra is completely done with it. You don't leave for ten months, come back for maybe two and a half weeks of regular contact, and then disappear for another month. No.

So today, when the brat once again tells her that Hei's out, she smiles and says she'll wait for him in his room. Never mind that she doesn't have a key — she just kicks down the door and uses her Avatar powers to deflect his ridiculously paranoid security system. And then she throws herself on his bed to wait and stew.]

Comments

[anatural]

[While his kisses are tender, hers are forceful, bordering on angry. She's in no mood to trust tenderness from him — it feels too much like appeasement. His honesty has always been accompanied by pain; if it doesn't hurt, she doesn't want it. Her arms are wrapped around his neck tight enough to choke.

It's still not enough. She loosens her grip on him enough to yank at his shirt, more than happy to rip it if that's what it takes to get it off.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ There's an element of the older times in her ferocity -- physically at least: kisses firing like blows, her whole body alight like a feu de joie, all guns blazing, trying frantically to climb him while her hands struggle with his clothes and fastenings. There's an echo, too, of his red-tinged days with Amber: no time for an intricate pretzeling of arms and legs, soft kisses, unpeeled clothes -- the world is crashing down around their ears and they can think of nothing but the wet congested immediacy of Now. ]

[ Korra wrenches his shirt, and something tears. Doesn't matter. He's doing some yanking and tearing of his own -- at her blouse, at the fur pelt, at the waistband of her pants. ]

[ For a moment he tries to imagine her in one of those skintight bodysuits in Heaven's War. Korra with her velvety dark hair bobbed to a short burst of waves about her face or swept up in a no-nonsense pony-tail. Korra in tired-eyed repose after a battle, slumped against a charred wall, Korra drinking something clear and strong. The smell of female sweat and hard liquor and her hips moving snakelike under shifting polyurethane, the lines of her thigh-holsers and suspender belt legible when her uniform is pulled tight. Korra laughing into Hei's ear under the white mosquito netting, alone with him in a tent, murmuring her usual absurd girlishness over the background noise of the practice gunfire and taunts of the recruits. Korra drunk at the end of the night, and him getting an armful of her, slippery warm fabric and skin pressed up against his own, or, hell, perhaps Korra wouldn't go for that, perhaps she would shave her hair close to her scalp, wear blades and a string of bullets, and stand with her long limbs outlined in stark greengray fatigues. ]

[ Can Hei see it? Any of it? No. God. No. The girl he has here -- to maul, to squeeze, to bite -- is more than enough. ]

[anatural]

[That's some imagination you've got there, Hei.

She tosses the torn pieces of his shirt to the floor, finishes off her own shirt (that's going to make getting home interesting, but that's a concern for later) and then — Oops. She unbalances herself while trying to reach the knot of her sarashi. If Hei doesn't react quickly, she's tumbling to the floor and taking him with her in a painful thaw. She doesn't care.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Yeah well. Maybe you inspire him. ]

[ She flings the scraps of clothes aside, then nearly topples over as she tries to undo her sarashi. Hei's reflexes kick in. Circling one arm around her back, he swings them away from the wall. Tries to stagger to the bedroom, but only makes it as far as the adjacent armchair. They land hard; the springs creak and he lets off a grunt, the begins at once to strip off the rest of their clothes: the wild ribbons of the sarashi, her boots and his sandals, the tangling brace of both their trousers. ]

[ Perched across his lap, Korra arrests his attention with the focus of a camera snapping a picture. Every time he looks at her he sees her more sharply, every last dot of her connecting to another: the fixed blue kiss of her eyes, the glowing familiarity of her face, the lock of neck to shoulders, the pretty handfuls of breasts like scoops of something dark and sweet he wants to sink his teeth into. For a moment Hei can't remember what he is supposed to be doing; thoughts blur just out of reach. An ache rises in him, pressure-cooking his jammy, very confused brain. ]

[ Then his mouth collides with hers -- a breathless, swooping kiss like freefall. ]

[anatural]

[Well done, sir. Points for effort. While he busies himself with incidentals, Korra hones in on what really matters: the zipper to his pants. Of course he makes it difficult, but she's always been equal to a challenge. She wants to have him vulnerable in her hand. (Except what she really wants, what she can't admit to herself that she wants, is for him to pin her down and drive her crazy like he used to.)]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Her messages skitter in a tangled whorl through Hei's system of understanding. He can pick up that she wants it rough and dirty tonight. Whether that includes being topped, tormented, teased... he isn't sure yet. More data needs to be accumulated. ]

[ He lets off a grateful sort of hum as she drags down the zipper of his pants, where his erection is trying to unfurl against the tight confines. Want is dancing in his body, atoms of it bouncing one against another, a liberating expansion of life energy, a wave of greed. Running his splayed fingers up the V of her ribcage, he cups her breasts roughly in both hands. He presses them tight together, so both her nipples are at his mouth, dragging his tongue across them in broad, careless swathes before he sucks them hard, until they crinkle to stiff points between his teeth. Her whole body holds a warmish glow of health, an almond and coffee blend of flesh and sun that makes him want to nuzzle close and bite. ]

[anatural]

[More data. Okay. What conclusions can be derived from the way Korra grips his hair, hard enough to pull strands out? What about the choking grip she has on his erection before she starts to stroke?]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Conclusion? She's trying to kill him. ]

[ She yanks his hair, the fingers of her other hand a sweet stranglehold on his cock, and Hei's breath hitches around a growl. He feels pretzeled into dizziness, face heated, flesh racing. If want had been an atom, now it is split. It spins his equilibrium. Every touch is like a light wallop that connects a necessary circuit and reminds him that his body is primed for shocks and sparks, not just calculated tenderness. ]

[ In the next breath, something inside him, that cruel little thing that licks heat across the back of his spine, crackling under the surface of his skin, jerks awake. Cording an arm around Korra's waist, he twists to spill her on her back across the faded pillows of the armchair. It's almost too narrow, but it's not comfort he's aiming for. Matter-of-factly, he hoists himself across her, weight settled on her groin instead of her knees, in case she tries to kick him and the family jewels suffer a fatal impact. His cock feels live, jumping, hot-tipped against his belly, and he gazes down at Korra with a dark, satisfied expression. ]

Good thing I'm not the type to file assault charges.

[ Because seriously, Korra: Are you trying to kill him? (You are, aren't you?) ]

[anatural]

[Hey, she's been way rougher with him before.]

Don't be a baby. [She twists his erection hard as she squirms, trying to unseat him. She could push his chest but that would mean letting go of him.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She has -- but there's a certain gap between stasis and arousal, in being cathected with enough desire that pain translates into pleasure. (How would she like it if he bit her clit right off the bat -- no teasing, no foreplay?) ]

[ There's a grimace as she twists his erection, a cramp of oversensitivity that quickly blossoms into a sweet full-blooded ache. Settling himself more firmly across her, he keeps those often-flailing legs pinned beneath his. Braces himself on one arm, his torso a pale curve over her, and reaches for her breasts with the other. He finds a nipple, clamps it between his fingers, hard enough to make her produce either a yelp or a moan, to make that gorgeous body tense and push in its familiar way, all her soft-hard edges ramming up against him. He pinches too roughly, twists, then wedges his knee between Korra's legs. ]

[anatural]

Ow! [Point would have been taken, if she were taking notes. But this is more of a fight than sex, regardless of how turned on they both are, and she's less concerned with pleasing him and more interested in making him cry uncle. Even as she rocks her hips, grinding herself against his knee, she leans forward and clamps her teeth down on one of his nipples. His fault for shoving them in her face, honestly.]

[mortemscintilla]

Hnn.

[ The sting of her bite scalds him, exhilarates him. He can feel his erection thump with a surge of heat against his belly, the balls rising; he wants to rub against her, to find delicious relief in the warm soft plane of her belly, or maybe between the pillowy heat of her breasts, at the same time coaxing her mouth open to lick wet stripes across the head of his cock with her pretty tongue. Instead he jerks forcibly away. A length of curtain tie-backs, old and faded to a dull blue, are heaped on the coffee table. Snatching them up, he seizes her wrists and makes short work of knotting them tight. Not as effective as handcuffs, sure, but the puposefulness of sex toys can often make them less exciting. ]

[ He pins her bound arms heavily above her head with one palm. The other, meanwhile, glides down, cupping the warm little tuft of her sex. He squeezes hard, feeling the heat and moisture of her against his fingers, before he brings his palm down in a light slap, like a licking strap over her clit. ]

[anatural]

HEY! [Korra squawks and struggles against him as he binds her wrists — though obviously she can't mind that much, since it would be the simplest thing in the world for her to burn them off with her firebending. She'd clearly rather complain than do anything about it.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He was expecting her to shred the ties, screaming rape and murder, fists windmilling. The fact that she doesn't is reassuring -- and telling. He decides that, if he gets another chance, he'll only ever use these little ties to keep her pinned, and that he will always have them handy with with him. He ignores her squawk, settling back with an anticipatory air. She's still, which gives him the chance to steal more than a roving eyeful of her. Sweet sturdy curves, kissable pout, mussed ponytail, ceramic hair pieces glinting against the dark fur of her hair, wishbone angles summing up her body. Dust of the outdoors, scents both clean and grubby. Her face is a kittenish pert, a puppyish round, with traces of seaside and sky in the blue eyes. Impossible. ]

[ With a half-smile, he pushes the hand on her mons lower, finding slickness and heat. He doesn't try to be playful or gentle. He twists his wrist, thumb trapping her clit under it, as he works too fingers into her folds. He doesn't prod at her usual sweetspot, though; he only circles it with his fingers before pressing with a rude precision against the spongy wet patch just above it, rubbing and coaxing as if he's fucking her, but with a sustained pressure, a specific friction, that his cock or his tongue wouldn't be able to achieve. ]

[ He's never played with all her hotspots -- too distracted by her other charms, or maybe just too selfish -- but right now he's keen to remedy that. ]

[anatural]

[She growls and knees him in the ribs. He looks way too satisfied with himself — she's still mad at him. He doesn't get to toy with her without consequence.]

[mortemscintilla]

Nuh-uh.

[ She knees him, but instead of swatting at her, he maneuvers so the angle is wrong, the force weak, her kneecap only thudding dully across his ribs. ]

[ His hand stays wedged between her thighs, wrist rocking as he massages the rough-soft slickness of her interior. He drapes his weight half on her, half off her, mouth sliding down her body, biting, gnawing with harsh interest, tonguing her in places that haven't been tongued yet -- the soft dent beneath her ear, the downy skin of her nape, the creases of breasts and undersides of nipples, the crooks of elbow, groin, knee, his dick skidding against whatever is handy as he moves. ]

[anatural]

[She's not going to whimper. She is not going to whimper. She is not going to give him the satisfaction.

He's got her legs pinned, and her hands are tied, but she can still move her arms. She brings her fists down, pinning his neck between her forearms.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He will make her whimper. And scream. And beg, before this is over. Because there's nothing more gratifying -- more beautiful -- than Korra in her throes: the sinuous, shameless movements of her body, girlish face absorbed in pleasure while the fully grown, womanly, Jesus-fucking-beautiful length of her writhes like a Valkyrie caught in wire, like a prisoner who is the exact opposite of submissive. ]

[ Case in point, when she pins his neck with her bound arms. Hei feels the grip of her descend like a sinewy noose around him, but it doesn't matter. He's descended down her body, face pressed with an intent restrained sort of greed into the cleft of her thighs, the burst of dark curls tickling his cheeks. His fingers fuck her hard, with wet squelches, a hard relentless hammering on that one gooey spot, while he opens his mouth and then closes it around the slick nub of her clit – a long, drawn-out suction as if he's feeding on her, devouring her from below. ]

[anatural]

[She screams, and hates him a little for the victory. She's not going to let him sit comfortable with it, though. If he wants to keep playing her, she's going to make him work for it. She throws her weight forward, trying to knock him back onto the ground.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She screams, and satisfaction diffuses in a race along his blurred nerves and then reconcentrates in sharp knots at his chest and even more heavily in his groin. When she tries to knock him back, he wrenches free to manhandle her with a rough, careless intimacy -- off the couch, onto the threadbare carpet. He sets her in a sprawl on her elbows, bound hands clasped, thighs splayed apart. The tassels of her hair are spread everywhere, her shoulders and back gorgeously dimpled, making her trapezius a broad shallow valley, her spine a river that pours into the lush delta of ass below. ]

[ Hei climbs astride and digs his thumbs into Korra's neck, almost a massage. But there is nothing soothing in his voice: just the scrape of hormones, heat and gravel. ]

You'll have to do better than that.

[anatural]

[Ouch okay rugburn on her nipples that hurts. She kicks her legs up, trying to hit him wherever she can.]

Don't make me use my bending on you.

[mortemscintilla]

Maybe I'd like it.

[ His throat feels like a honeycomb in which words buzz like wicked bees, and his lips feel bee-stung on the radius of pleasure. When she kicks out, he is flung back on the carpet, more a clumsy thud than a crash. Biting back a chuckle, he hauls her up with a brusque unwieldy care into the cradle of his body, her back against his chest, his arms overlaying hers, legs a reversed pretzel. Mouthing the damp crook of her shoulder, he bites hard, at the same time palming her sex, two fingers working between the slick pouting lips to cruelly pinch her clit. ]

[anatural]

[In a weird way, she's missed fighting like this. Even more than the adrenaline rush, it's the kind of fight where she wins even when she loses — pleasure is both prize and consolation. Some might be tempted to give up the fight, but for Korra, it lets her actually enjoy a fight for the first time in probably years. It's not fun to fight for your life, for your identity, or for the fate of the world. There is nothing enjoyable about confronting people who want to destroy you, even when you come out more or less the victor. But this is almost like being in the Arena again, except it's intimate and sexy and no, it's not actually doing anything to resolve the issues between her and Hei but it's reconnecting her with a little piece of herself she'd thought lost.

He pinches her clit and she stomps her foot on the ground, her scream overlaying the sound of a large clay flowerpot crashing into the room. Except it turns out that earthbending is really hard to do while having sex — it's remarkably hard to overcome the natural stubbornness of rock when distracted by someone's fingers. She can feel the water in the vines nearby, and goes for the more malleable element instead. As difficult as it is to move with him pinning her arms and legs, she still manages to bend the vines into the room.

And then they get their own ideas.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ For Hei, any violence and physicality on the job has been just that: a job. In the field, he's had only a perfectionist's drive to succeed, and a predator's ferocity to survive. The enjoyment has been minimal. This is different. This is almost like two big cats playing, a vitality that is both vicious and innocent. The workings of his mind flatten out; concerns disintegrate. There is an honesty in this mode of communication. A warmth, almost, in Korra's smoldering temper and flying kicks, as if he's caught a fierce slice of sunshine in his arms. ]

[ And oh, he thinks, as her scream reverberates through the room, she burns so sweet. ]

[ He's dimly distracted by the flowerpot hurtling inside, but the vines are too obvious to miss. They slither toward him like pythons, and Hei crooks an eyebrow, a blend of amusement and alertness in his eyes. Squeezing her clit between his fingers, short bright shocks of pressure, he lets his other hand roughly cup her breast, twisting and stretching the nipple. ]

[ Biting her ear so it reddens under his touch, he breathes, ]

Didn't think your tastes ran that direction.

[anatural]

[He may or may not notice how her body goes tense — he may or may not mistake it for arousal. But there's no mistaking the tone in her voice.]

They don't.

[Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid! What was she thinking, bending those vines? She's been fighting them for almost a month now — she knows she can't control them! She struggles in Hei's grasp, this time in earnest.]

Let me go! [Tangled up as they are, she can't firebend her way out of her bindings, much less try to burn the vines away.]