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

[mortemscintilla]

[ She may have learnt to fine-tune her responses. But compared to the sly eclipses and subtle shutterings Hei is used to in his lovers -- their lips and hair dye-saturated candy colors, nails and spike heels sharp and terrible, cheekbones and curves and eyelids so perfect that you can trace with your gaze where the surgeon's knife must have cut -- Korra is still achingly transparent. Delightfully, moodily human -- full of hormones and snark one moment, all soft and giggly the next. ]

[ Before she changes her mind and squirms away, Hei dives down and gets to work. No pattern; no tactile roadmap. He starts at her feet. Bites at the tender arch of one, tongue tracing the dust on the bare sole of the other. Pops the big toe into his mouth, sucking it the way she sucks his cock. Touching his mouth to the kneecap, the side of the knee, the oversensitive back. Sliding his lips along the calf, the soft down ticklish under the smears of sauce. He leisurely samples her right thigh, then her left, Climbs half on her, then half off her, sliding along her body, biting, lapping, sucking with harsh interest. His dick skids against whatever is handy as he moves; he can feel the hot weight of it at his groin, the tip ribboning faint streaks of pre-come. He lingers for a long while on her breasts, hands kneading them with sauce-sticky fingers, rolling her nipples before he draws each one inside his mouth -- hard -- blunt teeth sinking around the aureole. ]

[ He wishes he could take his time, work her over until she's half-wild with it. But it always feels like there's something larger looming on the horizon, as if he can't linger for more than a moment. So he does what he can to make the moment worth it. Has to, because he's lived on borrowed time too long not to know the value of it. ]

[anatural]

[That was the strange thing about the City, one of the many strange things — you never knew when you might leave, but it always felt like you had all the time in the world. Time to indulge in hours of foreplay and relentless teasing, time to explore every inch of their bodies. In the City, you never knew if you were going to wake up in the morning and still be yourself, but it's here that Korra finds herself constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He's driving her plenty wild, though, even without the cruel teasing and orgasm denial that used to be his favorite trick. She whimpers and writhes, trying to release the aching tension building up inside.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She whimpers and twists under him, and Hei feels wafts of dragon-breath curling in his brain, his entire body overheating, throbbing with wanting her. The burn of spice on his tongue seems to match the sizzle under his skin. He doesn't know how to tell her how she satisfies him; all the phrases that come into his mind seem to be plucked from songs he's heard on the radio -- low-down dirty blues and jazz, rock-and-roll and sparkle-candy pop -- and he cant speak them. ]

[ So instead he coaxes and pleads and loves with his tongue, lips, fingers. Mouths her breasts hungrily, leaving faint pink glistening rings of teethmarks on the skin. Licks a burning trail down her belly, across her mons, rearranging the curly hairs into patterns with his tongue. Parts her slicked lips with the V of his fingers, and nuzzles between her splayed legs, soft lips surrounded by prickly bristles. Her clit is a taut twitchy bead; he lashes at her delicate inner lips before circling it with his tongue -- light slippery swirls, then flat rapid strokes, over and over, his mouth like a wet hot furnace drawing at her. ]

[anatural]

[He can't say them, which is likely a good thing because Korra probably couldn't listen with a straight face. She neither understands nor particularly appreciates poetry; at best, it'd confuse her and at worst she'd outright laugh. There are lots of things that words are good for, but things like this? For her, best shared through touch.

Besides, he's very articulate with his mouth. Korra covers her own to stifle a scream as he tongues her clit, before remembering the room is soundproof. (She'd just about died of humiliation when the older woman whispered that to her, all those weeks ago, but now she's grateful.) She claws the blankets then, the rough edges of her nails snagging on the fabric and she doesn't care or hold back.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Her hitched breaths, those gorgeous sounds trapped in her throat, all turn him on so much it is almost unbearable. With clumsy movements, wildly on edge, he slips one hand between them to curl sticky fingers around his dick. Squeezes, and nearly comes, but stops in time with a rough tug around the head. Meanwhile his mouth stays busy, hot delicate sweeps of tongue before her clit is caught between gentle teeth. He nudges at it, sucks at it, then lashes at it with a fierceness that matches the high thrum of his pulse. His free hand palms her belly, cupping and massaging each of her breasts in turn, before catching the nipples between twisting fingers. ]

[ Watching her spilled under him, he's always thrown by the unexpectedness of the sweetness -- the submission -- from someone so powerful. Always caught in something split between light cruelty and dark generosity. She's like a delightful armful for him, a melting gift. Her warmth is like home, no matter where they go. It's more than he's ever hoped to have. But that doesn't erase the knowledge that his love for her is less worthy than his ties with Yin or Amber, or less whole than what he feels for Pai. ]

[ He only hopes time will fill those blown-open gaps. She deserves at least that much. ]

[anatural]

[Always always always with the comparisons. Fortunately kept within his head, because Korra would never understand it. She would, to herself, compare Bolin and Hei's techniques sometimes, but it would never occur to her to compare her relationships with them or how she feels about them. She loves Hei; she loves Bolin; she loves Mako; she loves Asami. Each love is unique, none greater or lesser or "better." She holds her feelings to no standard and thus never finds them wanting.]

Let me — [Struggling for breath, for words] I want to touch you.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Comparisons are automatic when you've been trained to ascribe a value to everything in your life -- tangible and intangible. When you've been taught to separate what sustains you from what destabilizes you -- and to clinically excise the latter. And he destabilizes Korra, in so many ways. He knows she'd be better off without him. Burning-bright godlings like her should inspire great and obsessive loves. Not twisted simulacrums of it, which is all Hei offers. He's happy being with her, but it's obvious that he's settled. Not in the nesting sense, but in the sense of accepting what's offered instead of yearning after what's not available. And there's nothing truly wrong with that, because a killer is someone you can have a long-term relationship with only if you're a killer too. ]

[ Korra's just one short, merry-go-round chapter in what is a very long book for him. And vice versa. ]

[ If he thinks about it with this perspective, it shouldn't taste so bitter. Except perspective is a fucking crock. ]

[ Panting, he lifts his head at Korra's words. Sloe-eyed under heavy lids, lips smeared glossily as if he's bitten into a juicy peach. A beat, then he smiles small, and presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh. Crawls up over her, his cock a heavy slick roll, drooling against her belly. ]

Go ahead. [ Dipping his head, he kisses her, first fiercely, then more languidly, the strung-out tension in his own body melting, his teeth dragging softly against her upper-lip. ] Nothing stopping you.

[ As if he'd made it easy. ]

[anatural]

[Wow, so you're psychic Hei? And a mind-reader? That's amazing! Korra is neither, otherwise she'd punch him in the face for those thoughts. She certainly doesn't assume that their relationship will last forever, but she doesn't contemplate the inevitability of its end, and it would gall her to know that he does.

Fortunately, his thoughts are a cipher, and when Korra knees him, it's because of that Nothing stopping you comment.] Not anymore there isn't.

[She reaches down to fondle him as she considers her options. She'd like to tease him with a blowjob, but she's also turned on enough right now that she could probably come from penetration alone. Seems a shame to let the opportunity slip by...]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Neither psychic, nor a mind-reader. Just someone who defaults to an array of contingency plans and exit strategies for each situation, because the idea of walking unwarmed into anything -- this storm of emotions and hormones -- is no better than a pretty alternative to suicide. ]

[ She curls her fingers around him, and he lets off a gusty breath, ripples of bright-hot blood crashing into his scalp, his dick. Tension pulls at his muscles like a needle drawing thread; in her grasp, his erection is slick, twitching. With a grizzled hum, he nips at her neck, mouthing the juncture of soft skin where it meets shoulder, then begins biting in earnest at the captured curve of muscle. He has no idea what she's planning, but he's spoiled enough for choice that he'll go along with anything. Just as long as she stays close, and some part of her is in contact with the thudding clusters of nerves across his dick. ]

[anatural]

[Korra's exit strategy is the same for pretty much everything: punch people until she's free. It's worked fabulously so far (for a certain definition of "fabulous"....)

In the end, she's not sure what makes her decide against taking him inside now (yes she does. She doesn't feel like fumbling around for a condom and when she thinks about the risk of pregnancy she thinks about blood and the two weeks he couldn't even look at her). But she pushes him onto his back and slides down his body. Turnabout is fair play...]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei rolls onto his back with a playful and boneless compliancy, a way of obliquely flirting from the neck down while his face remains aloof and calm. The way she slides down his body, hot skin scrubbing across his thighs, back-stroking a thousand light hairs, is both incitingly sweet and irritatingly tame. ]

[ With a light shiver, he settles across the plumped buttress of pillows, one hand sliding astray to fit itself to the nape of her neck like a hand-sized collar, fingers in the roots of her spilled hair, carding the thick curled wilderness of her skull. The other skims along her jaw, two fingers slipping into her mouth, tugging softly at her lower-lip, as if to illustrate the kind of touch he wants, between his legs, where his cock already juts with a lewd interest, demand flushing through his balls all the way up to the sticky head. ]

[anatural]

[Korra nips his fingers; she's going to touch him how shewants to and he'll just have to enjoy it. It's not good for him to always get exactly what he wants precisely when he wants it...

Instead of sinking her mouth around his shaft like she normally does, Korra turns her attention to the more-often neglected balls. She licks into the corner where balls meet shaft and then takes one into her mouth and sucks.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ His eyes flutter half-shut as her lips roll over him. The sensation of her mouth -- oh so fucking good, wet, slippery -- is so inflaming that his imagination, always a latent wise-guy, supplies an image of whiskey poured over his cock and its length set on fire. He resists the urge to tug her hair, to guide her mouth where he wants it; the sight of her sprawled across him, mouthing his balls with a kittenish gusto, in itself repays all of his restraint. ]

[ Dreamy-eyed. skin filmed in a light sweat, lips parted around wavery scoops of air, he watches her. His widespread hands stay tangled in her hair, and the bones in his face seem suddenly heavy, pressing their weight on the mask he wears. He feels that if he were to look in a mirror at that moment he would see something melting, distorted, unrecognizable. A look reserved only for her. ]

[anatural]

[It's a good look on him.

Korra works his balls enthusiastically with her mouth, using suction and tongue and pressure to torture him. She's in no rush to get to his shaft, if she even gets there at all — a part of her really wants to see if she can make him come just from this. She's already disgusting; what's one more reason to shower?]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei ripples and clutches at her, fingers curling into her hair, a grip that's just short of frantic. His balls, bathed by the wet heat of her tongue, are high and tight and aching with their load. The pleasurepain is so sharp. So everywhere. God, it fucking hurts. Like rutting in burning coals -- and it's so bittersweetly perfect. ]

[ He stirs under her, lazy, incremental jerks of his hips at first. Then a sizzling arch to his back, this long shudder of lust for her. After a few moments, he is gusting out ragged, appreciative curses; after a handful more, harsh close-mouthed sounds nearer to frustration. He wants to come so badly it hurts to think, but the sloppy sensation of her hot mouth is not quite enough. More than anything, he wants her to open wide and engulf his cock, from tip to root. Or, better yet, to climb astride him, take him deep in that sopping-wet furrow between her legs, where all the nerves on his twitching shaft fucking scream to be planted. ]

[anatural]

[You want it, Hei, you'll have to take it, because Korra has absolutely no intention of stopping what she's doing. It's a little revenge, a little challenge, and really fucking hot to feel him move, hear that ragged edge of need in his voice. She needs to know how far she can take this — whether she can push him all the way to the edge.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ As a rule, there's only so much teasing Hei can stand. He's gotten better at being less wham-bam-thank-you about his encounters, but he still has little patience for too much frippery surrounding the one big thing. His legs slide further apart, his body weds itself gracefully to the bed, synapses flaring as she works him over with her mouth. He wants to grab her by the hair, coax her lips wide open and drive between them, a rapid sloshing friction. Wants a full-body dick rub, playful and nasty: straddling her and rubbing himself across her face, neck, breasts, painting him wherever it feels good to thrust. ]

[ Instead he lets off a small humming sound, a sort of warning croon broken erratically by his labored breaths. Tugging at her hair, he catches her face in both hands. Drags her close to kiss her, tongue-fucking her with relish, at turns greedy and angry, forceful and reassuring. ]

Rubbers. [ is all he can exhale, and it takes him a minute to realize he's speaking Portuguese. Switching languages, he amends, ] Condoms. In the bedside drawer.

based in part on RL experience

[anatural]

Huh? [As if the sudden yank up wasn't disconcerting enough, he starts talking in one of the languages she doesn't know. Is he cursing? Groaning? Having a stroke?

Condoms. Yes, that makes a lot more sense. She leans over and reaches for the drawer — reaches, but it's just a little too far. Evidently at some point in the evening they'd shoved the table away from the bed. Come on, Korra! She tries again.]

Mmph!

[And half falls out of the bed, her hands the only thing saving her nose from meeting the floor. Awkward.]

ROFL I LUFF U xDDD

[mortemscintilla]

[ That's Korra for you. Graceful as the curve of a rainbow. The display -- and the narrow save -- deserves applause, or perhaps a sputtering of chuckles. Hei merely smiles, though a tiny muffled sound not unlike a snort does make itself heard. Because she's a goddamn marvel -- a burning little deity in clumsy human clothes -- and he is a jagged, crooked earthdweller, but he has her in his grasp. Literally. ]

[ With an unwieldy care, he scoops her up. Settles her against his chest, smoothing the haphazard tassels of her hair off her face with a gentle palm. The other hand reaches out to rummage out the necessities from the drawer. He skins the condom on quickly. Shifting, taking his cock in shaky fingers, guiding it to the slick place beneath the sprig of curls at her mons. ]

[ Gathering her close, absorbing the vee of released body heat that breathes against his sensitized erection, Hei kisses her -- a wet soft flutter of lips. ] All this finesse -- you'll spoil me, [ he murmurs, his tone falling somewhere between sarcasm and breathless affection. ]

except for the sex part, totally true story

[anatural]

[She could've gotten herself back up — have you seen her guns? She could lift mountains with those things! But if he wants to pick her up, well, that's okay too. She bites his neck as he teases her.]

I already spoil you. [With how often they have all kinds of kinky sex and how few times she's said "no" to his requests, yeah, he's totally spoiled. The fact that she gets just as much pleasure from the experience as he does doesn't change that.

As if to prove her point, she sinks down onto him, not little by little but in one fell swoop.]

>3

[mortemscintilla]

[ She takes him in -- an exquisite slippery-slide, the clench of muscle swallowing him down hotly. And Hei can't help the shudder that rides up his spine, the sweet shock rendering him momentarily slack-jawed. His arms circle her, tightly, reflexively. One palm spanning the curve of her lower-back and the other cupping her cheek, nudging at her jaw until she's within reach to kiss again. Languid, sloppy, just a wet painbrush flicker of lips and tongue. Intimate, in a way their hurried adrenaline-filled nights have rarely been. ]

[ After a few breathless beats, he settles back against the pillows. Taking her with him -- a gorgeous weight astride his body, elbows and arms sinking on either side of his head as he coaxes her to bend over him. Trapping him in the burnt-brown corona of her dangling hair, letting his focus get caught the sweetsalty mineral tang of her skin and another, more profound scent: something hormonal and raw. ]

[anatural]

[The intimacy is all the sweeter for being rare. At this point in her life, having been in a relationship with him for as long as she has, Korra's not sure she could handle constant intimacy. She likes their fast, hard, hormonal fucks, and she likes the long hours of torture and challenge. Neither preclude intimacy, but they're much more about the body than the heart, and that's what she likes about it. Her feelings are constant; she doesn't have to re-affirm them every time they touch.

She rolls her hips, rocking him back & forth inside her, squeezing her muscles to add to the pressure. Wanting, in all ways, to keep him close.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She's not sure she could handle constant intimacy -- and he doubts he's equipped to offer it. If he forced himself to try, it'd be like dissembling. Like they're two people in a play, all surface-sweetness but no raw substance to prop up that weight of expectation. He's tried it on for size with other women, once or twice. It's never lasted long. Each time, he's gotten cruel, needling, sarcastic, distant. He'd push and pull, lash out and bite, turn coldly condescending when they placated him. They'd give and give and give, like malleable, half-asleep chewtoys. ]

[ The smart ones with any kind of survival instinct woke up and left. The ones rendered stupid by love let him grind them to paste and became irrelevant. He didn't destroy them. He didn't have to. After a while, their selves just turned to liquid, leaked down through the floorboards, and were gone. ]

[ He hopes -- hopes -- it won't be that way with him and Korra. ]

[ She rocks against him -- and his thoughts crumble to gingerbread, a ripple of two different sensations suffusing him, feeding a twitch to his torso and his cock simultaneously. Breath rasps low and jittery between his teeth as he stirs beneath her, tight circling movements of his hips, so his swollen length bumps wickedly against the hot spot inside her. He's always liked the straight-missionary position with her, boring as it sounds -- the way it's so friction-grindy and deep. But this is almost as good. Wearing her like a holster -- foreheads brushing and meeting, so he has an unimpeded view of those blue eyes melting fuzzily into his; the slippery skid of her skin; the wet-hot-slick clench of her sex and the hot weight of her; a delicious Korra-scented tangle of hair and limbs. ]

[ (He can't remember why he used to be so repulsed by this.) ]

[anatural]

[It takes a lot to grind another person to paste. Cruelty alone isn't enough; you need isolation from any kind of support network or any other sense of purpose. That will never happen with Korra. The only thing more inescapable than her friends & family is her duty as the Avatar. He can scratch and marr and rough the surface, but her core will always be safe so long as she has those things. (It's not as solid a foundation as she thinks.)

She shifts a little as she rocks, trying to ease the pressure on her forearms, find an angle that's a little less awkward. Even so, the awkwardness doesn't distract or detract from her pleasure.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She shifts, and Hei readjusts his grip. Gathering her in closer, wet skin on wet skin, jerking his hips forward hard, his cock up as far as it will go, until he feels low hums begin to break like iridescent bubbles against his mouth, rising from his throat. He wishes he could tell her how much he likes this; the way she pushes him to the edge and keeps him there, that feeling of being on the tip of a knife and not knowing which way to fall. It's a moment of blissful emptiness, one where he forgets about almost everything -- all his secrets, the lies he's told, the people he's been -- because it's Korra, and she's never asked him to be anyone other than himself. ]

[ Even if that self -- in all its tangled barbs and tar-black hollowness -- is something he wants to protect her from, as much as from the looming threat of real enemies. ]

[ Rocking under her, he tangles the fingers of one hand into her hair. Dragging her close, catching her mouth with his -- deep gulping kisses that deny her even a moment to catch her breath or hold it. Hips grinding at a reverberant, relentless pace as he dips his free hand between their bodies, tugging the wet tuft of curls between her legs before catching her clit with the rolling pad of his thumb. ]