good enough to eat

[anatural]

WHO: Hei & Korra
WHAT: You don’t want to know.

[One of the many problems with fighting with Hei — the makeup sex is really good. If it sucked, then maybe they wouldn't fight so often.

Korra finds herself contemplating this as she stirs awake. A glance out the window tells her there's still a few hours until dawn. Every part of her aches, but it's a good ache, like the burn of good exercise. Which, if you think about it, sex is. Particularly with Hei.

Yawning, she turns her head to look at her bed partner. She's missed being able to do this. Just watching someone sleep is both creepy and boring, but these little glances in the middle of the night are different. They're like subconscious surprise inspections, making sure he's here and close. Once he's passed, she can go back to sleep.

She tries to do that now, but it's not working. She's mauled all over, covered in sweat and spit and come; she wants a shower. Then her stomach grumbles, loud and angry, and she remembers that she'd hardly touched her dinner. She'd been so excited to see Chekov again, and then she & Hei had...well...

Her stomach grumbles again. Yeah. She needs food.]

Comments

wow totally thought i had hit post

[anatural]

[Korra rolls her eyes and jerks one knee up — not hitting him, really, since he was already on her leg, but a physical remonstration still.]

I'm hungry. Get up. [She nudges him again. She could always shove him off, but she likes the way he feels on top of her. As much as she needs to get up, she wants him to pull himself off so she doesn't have to.]

<333

[mortemscintilla]

[ He'll never admit it. But it amuses him inordinately when she gets this way, a kittenish mix of petulant and imperious. Instead of obliging, he lets off a low purl in his throat, Settles across her, a slinky replete weight, enjoying the smooth rub of her skin, the plush warmth of her breasts and the soft press of her stomach. His whole body is still a constellation of dull aches from the battle. But that makes it almost bittersweet, his brain so sogged with exhaustion and dopamine that it feels like a gooey sauce in the bowl of his skull. ]

[ He rubs his jaw along the crook of her neck, letting her feel the ticklish-hot scrape of bristles. Murmers, into her ear, ]

I'll get up. If you bring me a snack too.

[ He's clearly at the pinnacle of lazy indulgence. Usually he's adamant about not eating in bed, or letting her snack in it. ]

[anatural]

[She hums, enjoying the way he nuzzles her, even if he is being a pest.]

I'm not bringing food back here. [If it was just a snack, maybe, but she's seriously hungry. She plans on making up for the dinner she hadn't eaten.] You wanna eat, you can come with me to the kitchen.

[mortemscintilla]

[ He lets off a small, idle hum -- not content so much as relaxed -- before slowly blinking his eyes open. Pitches forward into her space, sheets rustling, hair a tangled blitz around both their faces, and kisses her on the bridge of her nose. He can already feel the surface languor melting away. His mind flickers on, fully awake, its tactical parameters activated. And underneath, like a smudge of dirt under a shiny polished surface, that ever-present sadness smearing the fringes of his psyche. Thoughts of the baby still creep up on him, unexpected. Other things might scab over, but not that. He has a feeling it's going to leave him off-kilter for a while. ]

[ Shaking it off, he smiles faintly, his face a chiaroscuro of shadowed edges and soft-hard lines. ]

Is this your way of asking me to cook?

[anatural]

No. [She knows where the chef keeps leftovers; Korra had planned on raiding that.] But if you're volunteering, I won't stop you.

[Grieving isn't a competition... but if it was, he'd probably be winning. It's not that Korra doesn't also feel an ever-present sadness deep inside. But it doesn't hit her the way other losses have. Korra the Mother hadn't had a chance to become a part of her identity, not in the way Korra the Avatar is.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He'll never be able to explain why the baby's loss has hit him so hard. All he can think of, is that the child would've contained, in her small pulsing body, everything that was best in himself, that violence and war was supposed to have taken, that he had rioted for years to suppress. She would've been his everlasting connection to life -- to innocence -- in a way neither Korra, or even Pai, are capable of being. ]

[ Maybe it is all just illusion. Falsehood. Stupid senseless self-deception. ]

[ He tries not to think about it. Instead he focuses on Korra, all mussed-up hair and bare breasts, looking so wildly pretty and pleased with herself. At least he has her back -- maybe. He hates the idea of a trade, but isn't such a fool as not to know: if she'd gone ahead and had the baby, it would've trebled the risks in her life. Even driven a permanent wedge of resentment between them. Logically, it's better this way: she can focus on being the Avatar, and he can focus on keeping her in fighting-trim. ]

[ That's as it should be. But he's not sure he'll ever stop wondering if fucking and fighting are enough to make a relationship on. Enough for her -- or for him. ]

[ Keeping the storm off his face, he nuzzles her hair. ]

Just don't have those pao tsai pickles you kept eating before. [ While she was pregnant, he means. ] The bedroom stank of pickles the rest of the night. As did your breath.

[ Of course, he's lucky to have her even with pickle breath. Pickle breath only enhances her many charms. Or so he tells himself. ]

[anatural]

[Fighting and fucking on their own aren't enough to make a relationship on — not the kind that Korra wants, at least. But they have more than just lots of fights and even more sex. They have love: inexplicable, brutal, and unrelenting. You may not be able to sustain a relationship on love alone, any more than you can live in a house with only a foundation, but every fuck, every fight, builds up that house. Walls are put up and torn down; doors & windows are put in. And maybe, once it's finished, they'll find they don't want to live in it after all; that time is still far away.]

You're the one who kept feeding them to me. [She kisses his chin and then forces herself away, off the bed, to stand up so she can pull on her clothes.]

So are you coming with me or not?

[mortemscintilla]

[ He wishes he could share that strange mix of blithe certainty and matter-of-fact recklessness she possesses. That tendency to try for the best, and leave the rest to chance. The crux of their relationship may be love. But he'll never stop wondering if it could be a worthier love. He'd started out too emotionally disturbed to participate in an affair. He'd been dishonest with her and with himself. Taken perverse pleasure in mistreating her, then rationalizing it as preemptive self-defense. He'd tormented and tested her systematically, to see how much she'd let him get away with. He was -- is -- all messed up, but that's not an excuse. ]

[ By the time he fell in love with her, the shame had sunk in, a secret, subtle rebirthing. He'd begun to wish things were different. He'd think of how good she'd have been to him, if he'd let her. He'd think of how much happier, less scarred she'd be, if he'd tried harder. ]

[ He still thinks that way. Can't help it. He's always aware, even in Korra's surliest moments, that he doesn't deserve her, because compared to the damage he's done, her tantrums and rashness don't mean more than a bump on the head.]

[ He watches her dress, his gaze a soft, wistful roaming. Shakes himself out of it, after a beat, to slither out from the covers and drag his clothes on. He pads after her in that spookily silent way of his, ignoring the small needles of pain in his muscles, dull aftershocks from the battle. The hallway is silent; shadows overlapping with moonlight from the windows. ]

[ Sidling close to Korra, he murmurs, idly, ]

I feel like a kid sneaking out after bedtime.

[ Or what he assumes a kid feels like. His own childhood -- if it can be called that -- doesn't qualify. ]

[anatural]

Well you kinda are. Except for the kid part. [There's an eerie not-silence as they walk through the hallways. She can hear guards moving about outside, their presence doubled since the Red Lotus' attack, and yet everything seems like it sshould be silent.

She thinks about Chekov, out there and alone.]

Are you sure Chekov's going to be okay out there?

[mortemscintilla]

He's in a safe spot. Plenty of food, blankets, and weapons.

[ He feels, strangely, like he's reassuring a child about a puppy left outdoors in a kennel. He'd made sure to stow Chekov away at a strategic location -- a small maintenance shed that connects to the house itself. Secluded enough that the guards wouldn't cross it on the usual rounds, but also with access to the upper levels of the property, so he can sneak in to see Korra if there was an emergency. In addition, he's left Chekov a modified walkie-talkie, with a corresponding alarm that Hei carries in his own pocket. In case something goes wrong, Chekov can hit the switch and alert him of danger. ]

[ He squeezes Korra's shoulder briefly, and says, ]

Once you've had enough to eat, you can slip out to say 'Hi.'

[anatural]

[Korra shakes her head.] I don't want to bother him if he's sleeping. It just...feels wrong to hide him in a shed when there are plenty of bedrooms in Su Lin's house. Especially after he helped fight off the Red Lotus.

[mortemscintilla]

It's better if he stays out of sight.

[ He unhands her shoulder, claps one in gentle comradely abandon. The door to the kitchen is not far ahead; a faint aroma of cloves and garlic still hangs in the air. Unlatching the lock, Hei works the knob and draws the door open with a soundless economy of motion, to admit them into the marble-topped galley. ]

[ Shutting the door behind them with a muted click, he adds, ]

You need an ally that the Red Lotus doesn't know about. It's safer that way -- for you and for Chekov.

[anatural]

[Korra makes a beeline for the ice cupboard, where the leftovers from last night's dinner are being kept cool & fresh.]

Why? He's already fought against them. Don't they already know about him?

[mortemscintilla]

Considering how crazy it was out there, they wouldn't get a good fix on him. Besides, they know all about your friends and family. Chekov's a cipher. You can play that to your advantage.

[ He lets her forage for whatever she's after, and burrows into the huge stainless steel refrigerator. Suyin's chef is talented, no doubt about it. But Hei dislikes the raw kale he heaps in all his dishes. What's that thing Lebowitz liked to say? Vegetables lack a sense of purpose when unaccompanied by a good cut of meat. In his opinion, there are more benefits to protein-filled meals -- especially for parts of him that are ever-ready to stand up and do their duty for Korra and country. ]

[ He assembles a big skilletful of eggs, rice and morsels of beef and chicken. Pauses, a moment, to watch Korra, his gaze holding a mild interest that conceals the want that's gnawing, down-low, beneath the more commonplace hunger. He is already half hard; it bugs him. Twice in a night should be enough, especially since she's only just passed the red-zone after her miscarriage. He needs to regrasp his self-restraint -- ironically the very quality that was once his best asset. ]

[anatural]

[Well if Hei's going to cook, Korra's not going to disturb the leftovers. She closes the door and plops down at the table.]

I guess. [Hei's probaby right. This is the kind of thing he excels in, after all. His area of expertise. One of Korra's strengths is knowing when to defer to the expertise of others. She rests her chin on her hand and watches him cook. And...oh my. She starts grinning as she catches a look at his pants. He may think he needs to regain his restraint, but as far as Korra's concerned, they've got lots of lost time to make up for.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei stirs the spitting fry-up with a wooden spoon, tossing and sauteing. His face, downturned in focused habit, reflects an absorption that suggests his thoughts are elsewhere, as if their arrival lags behind his body. But it is a safe bet he is fully conscious of Korra's scrutiny. So much for subtlety, he thinks snidely, remembering the indigenous South American tribes, where the youths wore no more than a thin cord tied from waist to the crown of their genitals; this was their clothing. It covered nothing, but without it they were naked and the swing of their privates was open for mocking. ]

[ This feels like the extent of his own coverage, around Korra; his secret hangs out for the world to see, but without the thin cord he's wrapped around himself he'll be exposed past endurance. ]

[ When the stir-fry is done, he slips the sizzling heap from the pan onto a plate. Sets it before her, grabbing up two pairs of chopsticks, then bringing his chair close to hers so he can eat. ]

[ Studiously avoiding her grinning face, he says, between mouthfuls, ]

Staring is rude, you know.

[anatural]

I'm not staring! [She pokes at his face with her chopsticks.] I'm admiring. Big difference. [And if she's going to get to eat anything on this plate, she should probably move quickly; Hei has a way of inhaling food. She starts shoveling food into her mouth.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei crooks an eyebrow, but refrains from making any dry comments. Instead, at a more sedate pace than usual, he tucks into his food, maneuvering his chopsticks in such a way that Korra gets the choicier bits of beef and chicken. ]

[ She's not as rundown as she was during the early weeks after her miscarriage. But he can't get that vision out of his head: how heavily she'd bled in their bed, staining it down to the mattress. And after he snatched her up, barreling out of her room with her, shouting to rouse the house, she'd left a trail of blood through the corridor, down the stairs. On Tenzin's robes, on Asami's nightdress. He can remember holding her, limp, hot, moist, while they'd carried her to the healers. Remember all that blood, thin and amorphous, uncontainable, dripping, then thick and clotted, lumpy, wrong. ]

[ And for the first time Hei had experienced it not as a byproduct of a job -- but the way all the rest of them did. A sign of disaster, the unthinkable coming to pass. ]

[ Again, he shakes himself loose from the grip of disturbing thoughts. Nudges bits of fried egg her way with the chopsticks, and says, ]

I'll make you more, if you want. You need lots of proteins.

[anatural]

Only if you're hungry. [She takes that bit of fried egg and then sets her chopsticks down.] That was delicious — as usual. Thank you.

[She leans over to kiss his cheek, both gratitude and distraction. She can see the dark turn of his thoughts on his face, can guess the direction they're heading, and she wants to pull him back from there. If she doesn't, he'll drag her along with him, and Korra doesn't want to go there again. Not tonight. Not ever.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ The kitchen counter lays a geometry of light across the table, but the rest of the place is dark; in the weak glow, Hei's face is heavy and scrubbed raw, features downturned with the pull of memory. But when she kisses him, an iota of the surface tension dissolves. ]

[ Setting his own chopsticks aside, he gathers her across into his lap, in that habitual way of his. Lifts her hand to his mouth, kissing the fingers, with a sort of tentative curiosity, as if he's never touched them before and isn't sure what they'll feel like. ]

[ He lifts his face to hers then, the solemn expression dissolving into something wistful, wry. ]

Hungry... isn't the word I'd use.

[anatural]

[Korra relaxes a little too when he pulls her onto his lap. They both have an easier time communicating with touch. When he lets her hand go, she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him.]

Oh really?

[mortemscintilla]

[ He doesn't answer. At least not verbally. Instead he circles her closer, one hand stroking her side, her belly, with slow appreciative strokes, while he tips his head back, coaxing her lips apart with gentle nudges of his mouth against hers. He takes his time to taste that meaty, soupy underurrent of the meal on her tongue, a splinter of consciousness noting the way the kiss melts from something slow, languid, to a hot insistent pressure. ]

[ It's ridiculous. He's gotten laid twice tonight, but it doesn't drain the well of lust for Korra that keeps rising and brimming. Even when he's sated it remains the same -- a perpetual glass half-full. ]

[anatural]

[She shifts in his lap, grinding and squirming until she's straddling him. She tugs on his bottom lip with her teeth and tangles her fingers in his hair. As the kiss grows more heated, she starts pulling. It's a familiar, predictable pattern.]

Hey. [With difficulty, she breaks the kiss.] Sure you're not still hungry? [Code for I’ve got an idea.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei rearranges her more comfortably in his lap, both arms slung around her, fitting along the curve of her waist as if cradling an expensive vase, then skimming down to get a handful of her ass. The cup of soft muscle both delights him and urges him to press her closer, to squeeze and explore other parts of her. His hardening cock is trapped beneath her weight; he can feel the greed leaping into his groin like a tiger. ]

[ He crooks a half-smile when she breaks the kiss, blue eyes at once frank and half-shuttered, body canted in a wickedly casual set of angles. ]

Depends on what's on the menu.

[anatural]

I was thinking... [She looks around the kitchen for inspiration and sees a bottle of bulgogi sauce sitting on the counter, forgotten by one of the chef's assistants.]

Barbecue?