well that got awkward fast

[pabulously]

WHO: Hei and Bolin, later Korra & Hei
WHAT: Bolin’s come to tell Korra about rumors he’s heard on the streets. But Hei’s the only one home.

[Strangely enough, Bolin's never been to Korra's house. Well, okay, maybe it's not so strange, considering he's broken his heart twice over her and while she's still one of his best friends the idea of being near both her and a bed is just...not a thing he wants to be happening. Particularly when it's a bed she's sharing with another dude. The same dude she'd been seeing before sleeping with him.

That's really the part that Bolin's still struggling with. He doesn't regret the affair or how it ended; he's made his peace and come to appreciate the idea of "sexbuddies." But the idea that he took another guy's girl is deeply uncomfortable, as is the idea that he made Korra a cheater. Luckily he doesn't have much reason to worry about it — Korra's boyfriend is so rarely seen he might as well be a myth. It's not the kind of relationship Bolin would want for himself, but Korra seems happy with it. And after losing her for those months, and the sheer chaos that followed her return, he's just happy that she can be happy.

Anyway. Yadayada, the past is the past, Bolin's perfectly happy to just catch Korra at pro-bending matches and grab lunch or dinner every so often. Why bug her at home?

Except he's started hearing things, whispers on the streets, about Amon and the spirit world and the possibility of a lot of trouble. This is stuff that Korra needs to know, now. Which brings him to her door.

Knock knock.]

Comments

[anatural]

[She likes it when he pulls her onto his lap. It's warm & snuggly, and she can almost taste the oranges from that first time, when he fed her while they waited for her laundry to dry. That was the the real start of their relationship.

She wraps her arms around his neck and rests her forehead against his.]

Like what?

[mortemscintilla]

[ Looking back on it, that moment of shared domesticity should've been a sign, the first flagstone on a path to hell. It makes Hei feel both bewildered and self-conscious, as he does on such occasions, but with the disorienting thrill of contentment, too. When had they sunk into this boring, frilly old-marrieds intimacy? Within the last year, maybe. Even a detective couldn't trace every change in the routine of everyday life. The first time their dirty laundry had mingled in the wash. The first time they'd shared a single bottle of sake. The first bowl of fucking popcorn he'd placed between them as they curled together on the couch, where once he'd enforced the one-man, one-bowl rule with a strict disregard for economy, a boundary line that anyone else had never argued. ]

[ Yet somehow the rule had dropped from use, like so many others he'd once thought inviolable. It's the unpredictability that makes it so dangerous, doesn't it? Shifts in relationships, moods and loyalties, a randomness of wind chimes. ]

[ He squeezes Korra tight, surfing on a wave of dazed bittersweetness, a trigger of tenderness. ]

Nothing important. He... worries about you, I guess. [ There's a beat, before he amends, more plain fact than a grudging confession. ] I do too.

[anatural]

[Korra used to resent people worrying about her — she saw it as a lack of faith in her strength and her abilities as the Avatar. But she's wiser now. She doesn't want people to worry about her, of course, but it's kind of nice when they do. It's another way of saying I love you.

She kisses the bridge of his nose and rests her head atop his.]

I'm fine. I'll figure this whole spirit mess out. It's just going to take a little time. [Thinking about today] Maybe a lot of time.

[mortemscintilla]

[ His eyes flutter half-shut at the kiss, and he circles her in closer. ]

I know you will.

[ Words that, from someone like him, usually mean nothing. Because, once, he wouldn't have believed Korra's optimism and hopefulness meant anything, either. Except now, her certainty is something he has come to recognize as meaningful because he knows that behind it lies a readiness to match words with actions. Something he, in turn, can rise to. Be equal to. ]

[ With her forehead resting against his, her eyes, fixed on his, are a pretty blue smear. Her hair's ornate frame is blurred, so the picture of her face is cleanly redefined into a smooth, solemnly childish, nearly-a-grown-up mug which makes Hei both proud and amused. Broad glossy forehead, brows like pretty thumb daubs, full lips with a smudge of sauce at the corner. A face at a cusp. ]

[ Tipping his chin, he brushes his lips against hers. Gentle, almost chaste. ]

Don't let anyone convince you otherwise.

[alittlebent]

Mmmm. [Tempting as it is, she doesn't deepen the kiss. There's still over half a plate of dinner left to eat! She starts to slide back into her chair so she can finish it, though if he holds on, she's just as happy to drag the plate over and keep eating on his lap.]

I wish the president believed in me even half as much as you do. [Fighting the vines and trying to communicate with the spirits is tiring, yeah, but what really pushes her into exhaustion and borderline despair is the constant haranguing from the president and the media. They complain that she isn't solving fast enough; they harass her for solutions, and they keep interrupting her while she's in the middle of trying something new. How is she supposed to focus and think with them constantly in her face?]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Actual stuffin' before the muffin-stuffin.' That's his girl. ]

[ He loosens his grip, but doesn't let her go. Lets her sit there, straddling his leg, his arms around her waist, through the quiet susurrus of chewing and tinkling cutlery. Korra has quite an impressive appetite, when she lets herself unleash it. The miracles of teenage metabolism -- minus his own freakish gluttony. Sometimes he kisses her on the back of her arm, which is nearest his mouth. They've been close all week, hugged up on the couch during their lazier evenings, or padding around barefoot in the morning-bright kitchen, elbows and shoulders grazing, or ferociously entwined across the futon at night. But he's still glad to be in contact with her, her spine propped along his chest, his arm a proprietary curl around her. ]

[ At her words, he pauses. He's watched the media tear her down countless times, a swarm of parasites feeding off a phoenix. He's seen her bend with the President's blows and come back swinging. But all the grit and sass won't help her if the press is out for blood. They'll be merciless if she takes a passive stance, and ruthless if she lashes back. It's a lose-lose. ]

[ He'd reassure her it's temporary. Except that's a lie. She's the Avatar. Everything she does -- good or bad -- will fall under intense scrutiny. ]

[ Quietly, he says, ]

Forget what that idiot thinks. He needs a scapegoat. You're the most obvious target. [ He puts his hands through her hair, hoping she will let herself be soothed. ] There's lots of attention on you right now. But remember: you're not a politician or a celebrity. You're the Avatar. Your job isn't to be popular. It's to bring balance to the world. However you think is best.

[alittlebent]

[She sets her chopsticks down and leans into his touch with a sigh.] I just wish they'd leave me alone. I could get so much more done.

[One of these days she's just going to say Fuck you and stay home with Hei all day. Let the spirits and vines destroy what they want; the people of Republic City can figure out what to do about it.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ With his right hand, Hei lightly scrubs his fingers through her hair, a rhythmic, tickling caress. With the other, he sneaks a few mouthfuls off her plate with the chopsticks. Chews thoughtfully before suggesting, ]

Hire your own security entourage. You're entitled. [ A beat, before a crooked smile tips the corner of his mouth. ] Better yet, airbend those pests onto the tallest skyscraper in the city.

[ ...Maybe this is why Tenzin considers him a negative influence... ]

[anatural]

[Congratulations — she laughs, and it feels so good. She can't actually remember the last time she laughed... not that long ago, but she knows for a fact it hasn't been as much as she used to. Her laugh muscles are sorely out of shape. But the image of the president dangling from Avatar Aang's staff by his underwear will have her cackling for days.]

Maybe I will. [She kisses him under his chin, adding in a little playful scrape of teeth.] Tenzin's told me I'm not allowed to break anyone's camera, but he didn't say anything about dangling them off of buildings...

[mortemscintilla]

[ He starts to snatch more food off her plate. But the impulse softens with the rise and fall of her laughter, emanating from her like so much glittering light. Maybe the sound -- maybe that wicked little bite -- makes his pulse-rate accelerate a fraction, a secret hitch in the mechanism of sensation and sense that is his body. And if there's a strain of melancholy underneath it all, that just has to do with the darker climate that still hovers at their fringes. A fleeting season of brightness. Time, not weather. ]

[ Shaking it off, he smiles faintly. Bumps foreheads with her, wondering if he's become drunk on his two tiny cups of sake. ]

You know ... If a fire-hydrant 'accidentally' breaks nearby, it'll short out their cameras. Then they'll have to leave you alone.

[anatural]

I like the way you think. [She grins and shifts so that she's straddling his legs. She's not tipsy, exactly, but the sake's certainly done its job of loosening her up. Or maybe it was the laughter. Regardless, she can feel the tension leaking out of her bit by bit, and questions about Bolin & why he was here are now far from her thoughts.]

Any other good ideas?

[mortemscintilla]

I do. They involve chili powder. And air-bending disguised as a harmless gust of wind.

[ Hei collects her closer into his lap, a pretty armful, his eyes dosed with a soft-edged amusement. The lines of stress Korra has been weaving, with her sulks and frowns and pouts, have slowly diffused. What's left behind is something voluptuous, melty, sleek. Palming her spine, kneading the wings of her shoulderblades, he tips his head up to catch her mouth with his. Coaxes her lips open, to kiss the aftertaste of sake and seafood from her mouth, then indulges in a wet, warm tonguing just because. ]

[ Part of him knows they should move this party elsewhere. Maybe the livingroom, if not the bedroom. The other part remains rooted in place, along with every other inch of him, feeding and fixated on the warm cradle of Korra's body. ]

[anatural]

[She snorts, still kissing him. These are indeed some great ideas. Just not as good as the way he feels against her. She slips a hand down the neck of his shirt to rub lazy circles on his shoulderblades. She is quite happy to stay exactly where they are... at least, until the edges of the chair start digging uncomfortably into her calves. She pushes herself back and onto the table, dragging him along with her.

Oops. There goes the plate.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Ladies and gentlemen, your Avatar. Subtle as a trainwreck, and just as impossible to ignore. ]

[ On quick reflex, he snatches the plate before it shatters on the tiles. A narrow save, but one that doesn't interest him so much as Korra, right now -- laid out across the table like the last morsel, mouth lush and waiting to be feasted on. The mauve slats of light fall through the kitchen window and pick up the fine downy hairs on her cheeks. It looks like peach fuzz, Hei thinks dimly. He could eat her skin just like that -- just like a peach. ]

[ Setting the plate carefully on the counter, he wedges himself between her thighs. Swoops in close for a kiss: teasing, slickly-snaky, before he drifts across her face in soft, light landings, gentle as a moth's touch. Between kisses, he breathes, ]

Should I be making bad dessert puns?

[anatural]

[Even as he wedges closer, she's tugging his shirt away from his pants. Experience has shown that she has to be quick and assertive about getting his clothes off, otherwise there's a good chance he'll be pounding her naked body with his pants around his ankles.]

I'm pretty sure there are better things you could be doing with your mouth. [Like kissing that spot right below her ear — you know, the one that always makes her arch up in pleasure.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She tugs at his shirt, and Hei assists with an awkward one-handed coordination. Yanks the material off, and kicks it away, the gesture gauche but somehow honest too, and indication of his racheting impatience. (Once the fucking is over, he'll likely wake up and walk into the kitchen only to trip over the discarded clothes, and he'll yell something pissy to Korra, who'll just mumble dismissively from the shores of sleep, cozily cocooned in the futon.) ]

[ At her words, he offers a sketch of a smile. Tips her across the table, and lazily mouths her breasts through her shirt, before rolling the material up and off her torso. Her hair fans out in a mass of skewed black tendrils, like ivy climbers reaching for sunlight. He nuzzles the warm-scented heap, then descends to gnaw where she likes best, right beneath the ear in that sensitive place that seems to connect straight to her groin. Both palms skimming up at the same time, from rubbing circles at the juts of her hipbones, to dancing up her ribs and closing around the soft swells of her breasts, a rough thumbing across her nipples through the fabric of her sarashi. ]

[alittlebent]

[Your fault for not watching where you're going, Hei. Master of grace and coordination and you can't handle some clothes on the ground? Geez.

She gasps and arches up like he pushed a button, as automatic a reaction as a knee-jerk. The edges of the table dig into her thighs, so she relieves the pressure by wrapping her legs around his waist. Her fingers tangle into his hair and grasp tight.]

You should grab the oil. [She's in the mood for a little back door action. Though she did just eat. How long should you wait after eating before having anal sex? The question shows in her expression, which shifts from pure arousal to horny and quizzical.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hey. You try watching where you're stepping after you're fucked-out and drowsy with your mind on nothing but food. Well. Mostly with your mind on nothing but food. ]

[ At her expression, his smile melts into something softer, more quietly amused. The answer depends on the person, really. He's known girls who'd starve themselves the whole day before doing the deed. Others who'd need days of prepping, and an enema just to be sure the alley was clear beforehand. And others who'd inhale a full-course meal, guzzle a gallon of alcohol, then get down to business without a hitch. ]

[ He doesn't say that to Korra, though. Just fumbles at the clasp of her trousers, before shucking them down her body along with her underwear, a messy drape across the tiles. Grabs a clean dishtowel, and spreads it under her, sandwiched between the table and the curve of her ass. Leaning in, he hitches her pretty thighs in a snug bow around him again. Mouths the vulnerable line of her neck, while slipping a hand between them to loosen his trousers, where his erection is already trying to unfurl from the overheated confines. ]

[ Nuzzling her chin, he teases, ]

Feel like living dangerously?

[ There might be a chance of a mess. There might not. It's a coin-toss. ]

[alittlebent]

[And she thought that she worked quickly. Korra smiles and reaches down to help him with his pants.]

I live with you, don't I?

[She says it with love and no trace of irony — though it is true in so many different ways.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He accepts her help with a flicker of a smile, and her words with one of those low grunted laughs that never quite leaves his throat. Hand shaky, he manages to pop the top button and get his zipper down, shucking the jeans and toeing them aside. Only then, the technicalities out of the way, does he seem to absorb the delectable treat that is Korra. Spilled out across the table, her skin like tea with just a few dollops of milk, in contrast to his own, milk with a few splotches of tea. ]

[ Humming, he slides his head across her chest, cheeking its sleek bones and soft planes. Tugs down her sarashi to free her breasts, lapping his tongue in broad, careless swathes across each slope, teething her nipples almost cruelly, then letting her feel the scrape of stubble that barely breaks his skin but feels like granularly fine sandpaper. Meanwhile his right hand dips between her thighs, combing through the tuft of pubic hair, resting one finger on her clit and pressing down, hard, not moving the digit at all, just letting his weight squeeze it down. ]

[alittlebent]

[At what point does this start to get old? Korra knows it gets boring for people, but she can't imagine how. She and Hei have had so much sex over the course of their relationship — this isn't even their first time doing it on the kitchen table — and yet she can't imagine ever getting tired of it. She'd have to be dead not to squirm at the friction of his stubble against her breasts, not to gasp and arch up as he presses down on her clit. (And yet she knows that it's not a guaranteed reaction, even for her. A different man could touch her in the same way and she'd feel revolted. Even Hei sometimes has touched her in places she usually likes, but in a way that turned her off. Sex is more than just interlocking parts.)

She digs her heels into his back, a wordless plea for more.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He's said it before: sex is purely a head-game. It has its own shades, variations and moods. But before Amber, before Korra, he'd seldom, if ever, equated it with intimacy. The fucking he'd engaged in was either a tool, or something commercial and essentially onanistic, which appealed to him in a calculating and self-serving way, because he'd dealt with enough pressures at work to worry about performance or pleasing a partner in bed, too. Awful, yes, but not everyone could be a bodice-ripping Fabio. ]

[ With Korra, though, there's a stubborn streak of generosity, tenderness, that he's not sure how to dispose of. Maybe it's chemistry, synchronicity, that makes them want the same things at the same time. He doesn't know -- and he's stopped trying to pick it apart. ]

[ She arches under him, her heels two warm knobs against his back. And Hei smiles against her skin, around the swirling bow of his tongue. Kisses down her belly, butting it lightly with his forehead, until Korra is obliged to soften back on the table, her legs falling open for him. ]

[ One hand remains on her mons; his fingers slip inside of her, stroking her through hot slickness in that upward motion she likes, the one that makes her twist her delectable body with the ticklish-hot pressure of it. Smearing the moist imprint of his lips along the inside of her thighs, then putting his open mouth on her sex in replacement of his fingers, feeling the tight curls and the soft plump lips unlike anything, it seems, he's tasted before. But he doesn't kiss or tongue her; he just teases her clit with hot-cool breath and glancing touches across her sodden entrance. ]

[alittlebent]

[He may think of her as a kitten, but there is something distinctly cat-like about how he butts his head against her — that imperious and yet charming demand for attention that is quintessentially feline. Of course Korra is helpless against it. She forces her body to relax, even with the pressure of his fingers inside her, and waits for the usual pleasure-torture to begin.

And waits. And then sits up on her elbows because she can't tell if he's deliberately teasing her or if something else has caught his attention.]

Don't tell me the vines are here too. [Normally she'd recognize his teasing as teasing, and know the difference between Hei-in-defense mode and Hei-in-playful-mode. But with everything going on, her first assumption with everything is "spirits are causing trouble." This whole thing has taken over her life.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Vines? Hei blinks, the context eluding him. Then he notices Korra's expression, and thinks, Oh. It's a sign of how wound-up she is. Usually, if he initiates sex, she goes like melting; it takes minimum effort to cajole her into The Mood, or to painstakingly tailor himself to suit her ever-fleeting fancies. But now she's full of so much percolating tension that it's blotting sight of everything else. Worse, it doesn't seem to be going anywhere. ]

[ When he speaks, his tone is facetious. But there is a mild concern stirring underneath. ]

No vines. [ A beat, before he reaches out. Lightly taps his finger against her temple. ] Except in here.

[ With the other hand, he palms her sex, and with a careful, almost silky manner, his fingers pry open her pubic lips, thumb rolling her clit as if it is a slick bauble or a juicy grape, touching her as if she is of immense value but somehow very very fragile. ]

[ Quieter, he asks, ]

You want something else first? A massage?

[ His own attentiveness appalls him. But he can't pretend at his usual selfish indifference. (Right now? Anymore?) ]

[alittlebent]

[Oh. She blushes a little as he taps her head. Of course there aren't any vines here. He'd be in fight mode if there were.

Come on, Korra. Relax. Yet she's sufficiently embarrassed by the vine mistake that his fingers can't quite distract her.]

No, it's fine. As you were. [She gives him a mock salute — a parody of the awkward salutes Mako's been giving these days.]