poly_chromatic | ♦♦ 32ND CONTRACT

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darker than black - hei

♦♦ 32ND CONTRACT - ANONYMOUS TEXT/ACTION

Oh perfect. A light show. Just what's needed after a month of witches and possessed goats. Sure, everything seems mellow now. No zombies or general epidemics. But distractions are just that. Distractions. No amount of Burning Man rituals and fireworks take away from the fact that everyone is still stuck here. That's not exactly something worth celebrating. Still, it could be worse. Pai could be gone. I could be back home. This 'perpetual darkness' theme could last more than 24 hours. Then there'd be no end to the belly-aching. Of course that's a mixed blessing. Some of you are only tolerable in the pitch dark.Options For Run-Ins:

Cafe: You'll find him behind the display case, sliding in a fresh tray of pinwheel cookies, a sprinkling of flour on his nose. Canapes, bonfire toffee, sausage roll-ups, sticky chocolate pudding, baked apples with cinnamon ... It's like he's trying to kill the City with saccharin-induced diabetes. Maybe he is.

Hey. At least it's a tasty way to go.

Xanadu: Crunching on a toffee-apple, he drifts through the park. Watching, not the brilliant displays in the dark sky, but his periphery. He's still in the habit of thinking operationally, and is as matter-of-fact about it as he is effective. But that doesn't mean he can't stop, for a moment, to listen to the crack-snap-pop of sparklers, or watch the glittering streaks of color exploding like supernovas above.

Anywhere Else: The dark is his element, and he utilizes the opportunity to explore. He stops by the City's outskirts, looking out at the sweep of the lakes, the glittering buildings, the glittering fireworks blossoming in the sky. Festivities seem to be dwindling, and who could've anticipated that he'd feel so rueful about that. Then again, all tonight is, is a lull, before some new curse threatens to snatch everything away in one big explosion of chaos. Whatever intervals of quiet he indulges in are irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.

Still he doesn't mind this pause. It makes things better and worse at the same time -- but sometimes it's necessary too.

[ ooc: Don't be fooled. Despite the general grumpiness, Hei is actually rather enjoying the fireworks. Backtagging friendly forevermore; I'll be very slow this week<3 ]

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[ She really is ridiculous sometimes. When she cracks an eye open, he smiles -- faint, brief, but there. Yes, like that. Smoothing her hair back from her face, he undoes the ties, setting the pieces on the adjacent table -- a series of clicks. There's something meticulous about his movements, as if he's disassembling a weapon. Next, he folds the scarf in half down its center. Holds it up, as if for Korra to examine, before he leans in -- slipping it over her eyes, securing it in place. The room is so dark there's really no need for it, but the fabric, he knows, brings its own claustrophobia. A feeling of everything cut off -- yet the sensations amplified. ]

[ Hei's lips are warm as they skim across Korra's. Quietly, he murmurs, ]

Same safeword, if you want to stop.

[She does rather feel like the room is closing in around her. Her muscles twitch, instinctively wanting to reach out and verify her surroundings. Nothing's changed.]

Got it.

[Nothing's changed, but everything feels different.]

[ Hei catches the ripple of tension in her body. Reaching out, he gathers her hands in his. Licks across her left palm and draws her index finger into his mouth. Letting it slip out with a pop, he murmurs, ]

Lie back.

[ Once she's settled on the cushions, he crawls easily over her. Not resting his weight against her, but hovering in a languid arch. Reaching out, he cards a hand through her hair, smoothing it off her face, trailing his fingers along her cheekbone. Quietly, ] You can put your hands on the couch. Or on me. Grab whatever you want. Scratch. Push me off if something's too much. But no pulling. [ He plans to take this at his own pace. Korra will hear an exhale, followed by a muffled little sound as he presses closer, his hair whispering across her face. He brushes his lips to the corner of her mouth in a cool kiss, while one hand skims warm fingers down her chest and traces the band of her jeans. ]

If you can't do that, I'll have to stop.

[ Nothing threatening in his tone. He sounds almost matter-of-fact. ]

Edited 2013-11-09 00:55 (UTC)

[She wants to lean into his hands, but they've moved on by the time she can move.]

You can't handle a little tugging?

[She digs her fingers into the couch, because she's pretty sure she can't stop herself from pulling him closer if she's touching him.]

You can't be a little patient?

[ Arch, but not cruel. There's a thread of unmistakable warmth in his voice. Slowly, Hei untangles himself from her, but it's only for a heartbeat. One hand flat against her sternum, he silently bids her to stay in place, maneuvering so he's at the far-end of the couch, between her legs. He undoes the catch of her jeans, lifts them over her hips, then pulls them down her legs and off her, dropping them to the floor. She has the thighs of a swimmer, so athletic and smooth. Her panties are a pretty triangle of fabric between them; they cover so little. Tugging off her boots, he slips his widespread palms under her body, across the smooth expanse of her thighs and the curve of her ass, squeezing gently. ]

[ His spine dips as he leans forward, his breath warm on her face, lips just barely brushing hers, ]

Okay?

[ As in: Everything all right in your head? -- Are you comfortable? -- Anything you want to do differently? ]

I can so be patient. [SEE HOW PATIENT HER VOICE IS? And how there's not even a whine when he pulls back and a part of her is convinced he's going to walk away. She's ready to hook her legs around him to keep him from leaving when he pulls her pants down.

Patient. She is totally. Being. Patient.]

Yeah. [Keep going!]

[ The epitome of patience. Oh yeah. ]

[ He doesn't smile. But there's a simmer of warm amusement bubbling in his chest. Outside, at the window, fireworks erupt -- brilliant stingrays and jellyfish blossoming then fading in an ultramarine darkness. The room swims, colours mixing and blurring, dripping down into each other; greying, brightening, then greying again. He feels like someone is holding the house underwater. It's a whimsical ambience. But he wants to see Korra. ]

[ Drawing back, he lets one hand rest at the dip of Korra's spine, thumb pressing circles into the taut muscle. A reassurance that he's still there. With the other hand, he reaches into the pocket of his folded coat. Fishing out a pencil torch, he flicks it on. Sets it on the coffee table, its glow a pale orange, buzzing quietly, creating fuzzy, spluttering shadows. He angles the torch forward, creating a glowing line from Korra's face down the center of her, leaving all beyond it in darkness. ]

[ She looks spectral, eerily beautiful, lit up in strange, angular shapes. ]

[ Korra will feel his weight make the couch whine, feel him shift positions until he's holding himself over her horizontally. With pursed lips, he blows across her skin, lips a quarter of an inch away. Moving slowly all along her body, careful not to touch it with his own. His tongue darts out occasionally to leave hot spots on her collar bone, neck, nipples, belly, hipbone, and inner thighs. Hot spots that he cools with another susurration of breath. One of his hands runs up the length of her thigh, then down to where it melts into her groin. The light skim of his fingers, down the crease of her leg and up, the heat and pressure of his palm settling on her mons, a dark starfish on the triangle of her panties. He rocks the heel of his hand almost imperceptibly against her clit, letting everything in Korra's body start pulling low at her stomach. ]

Do you want me to talk to you?

[ Not bedroom voiced, but almost conversational. A reassurance that she's not alone, not passive, not something he's pawing at while his mind drifts elsewhere. (Part of him is surprised for offering. Usually he couldn't care less.) ]

[She whines deep in her throat, and her fingers claw the cushions. What - why - HNNNNNG Why does he have to be such an evil, awful, terrible, amazing tease? When his hand reaches her mons, she locks her legs tight around it and tries to grind against it.

She's surprised when he offers to talk.]

What would you talk about?

[She's not actually worried now about where his thoughts are; she's struggling too hard to keep herself still to feel passive.]

Anything.

[ It's said with a half-smile, his eyes on Korra, watching the dim torchlight make her smooth, pointed shoulderblades glow. When she tries to trap his hand between her thighs, he draws it away easily. His fingertips are light against her shins, both legs. They slide up, feathery soft, following her knees and up the outside of her thighs. He knows she wants pressure against her clit again. Or something inside her. But he's not planning to make this easy. He skims his fingertips along her hips, up her sides, then sweeps up to barely brush the swells of her breasts. ]

[ Leaning in close, he breathes, a susurrus of cool-hot air, on one tight nipple. Does the same with the other. His left hand drops to her ribs, fingers slotted between the juts of bone, while his right hand hovers above her breast, lowering until his palm makes the barest contact with her nipple. The touch is so soft that it's easy to mistake for breath -- until he rocks it, slowly back and forth, touching just the tip of her nipple. ]

[ As he teases her, he murmurs, ] I could tell you how beautiful you look, just in your underwear. And how hard it's getting me. [ He dips his head, and licks her lips with his tongue, not bothering to hide something wry and darkly amused in his voice. ] Just logical, really.

[YOU ARE SO CRUEL AAAAAAAAAARGH. She whines and arches up, trying to press against his hand. She didn't say she couldn't press against him; he just said she couldn't pull. She is going to exploit every loophole she can find.

As for his words... she snorts, trying to cover up her blush. There's just something... really weird about dirty talk. It makes her feel a little self-conscious. (At the same time and, more importantly, it's really nice being called beautiful.]

Just biology. [Teasing back is hard when she's distracted by his refusal to touch her properly.]

[ Unfortunately, Hei's way ahead of her where loopholes are concerned. After all, he never said he'd grant her clemency. He smiles when she lifts her chest toward him, to force more contact, but he raises his palm the same distance. Faster, he moves, lowering his hand just a bit. It's so little what he gives her, but it's something, at least. Friction. Pressure. Even as she whines, her self-consciousness at his words is apparent. It's habitual for him, the instinct for silence during sex. Mostly he's never seen the point of talking. Who wants a running commentary of something that -- at least in his experience -- is mechanical and passionless and barely worth mentioning, half the time. Adding a verbal layer to that simply emphasizes what a performance it is. ]

[ Not so here. ]

[ Lowering his hand a fraction of an inch, he moves it harder. Almost just barely enough. Faster, then faster still, his callused palm rasping against her tender nipple -- before he cups her breasts in both hands, squeezing them roughly, pulling at her breasts, long pulls that end with sharp pinches to her nipples. ]

Yeah. [ There's an edge of gravel in his tone, each syllable teasing. ] Just biology. Blame that when I make you wait until you're a sticky little mess.

[Patience. Fuck patience. She hates patience. She's going to beat him with a stick named patience, and then she's going to break that stick in half if he doesn't --

He finally grabs her, hard and rough and she cries out in surprise and pleasure. If she could see him, she would have had maybe half a second's warning of the change, enough to anticipate, but unable to see it takes her completely by surprise.]

You're the one -- said it's just...logical... [She manages to gasp out.]

Hm? [ The smile hasn't faded off Hei's face. But his tone is measured now, almost offhand. ] What was that? Didn't catch it.

[ He continues kneading her breasts, but softer now, thumbs barely rasping across her nipples. When he lets go, it's completely without warning. His fingers smooth her hair back instead, lacing through the warm dark tumble of them, tipping her head back to get a better look at her. In the torchlight, Korra's features are delicate, hypnotic. He watches her ribs lift and settle as she breathes; senses the vibrating impatience fizzling under her skin. He leans in, keeping his weight off her. His lips touch her temple, a butterfly kiss. ]

I like the way your hair looks when you don't tie it.

[ Spoken as he grips a loose fistful of it, jerking her head back. Not rough, but playful. Inside his mind, a part of him looks at what he's doing with a What the fuck? sort of expression. He can conjure up prettier words, more elaborate compliments than this. But those are all lies, crafted to achieve a goal. Here, now, he's just ... talking to her. Angling his head, he kisses her -- a hungry, urgent slide of lips -- then draws back before she gets used to it. Still, he stays close, his breath hot on Korra's mouth. ]

[ He says, almost conversationally, ]

I thought it was a chapatsu job first. Tea-color dyed hair. But it's nicer. [ He's touching her face now, ] I like how round your viz is. Eighteen but still ... The phrase they'd use back home is é dàn liǎn. A goose egg. [ A beat. ] That's not a codeword for 'fat'. [ He kisses her cheek softly, like the kiss on the temple. ] And I like your eyes. I can't see them right now. But they're so expressive. They don't hide things. Which isn't always smart. But ... [ a shrug, unseen. He kisses her eyelids through the blindfold, feels them move under the cloth. ] I like your stupid turned-up nose ... [ another kiss ] And your tasty little mouth. [ A pause -- his lips butter-soft and melting against hers. He trails his tongue along their seam until they open to let him in. The couch creaks beneath them as he adjusts his weight, bent over her, knees folded on either side of her body. ]

[ Drawing back, he adds, as if there was no lull in between, ] Which I still have tricks to teach.

[She's vibrating all right, with impatience and lust and embarrassed pleasure, like that one time she tried coffee. He never gives her compliments of any sort; getting so many all at once is practically an overload. She wants to pull him down and hide her pleasure in kisses. She can't keep her hands from grabbing his waist, fingers digging in hard, but she manages to stop herself before pulling. She's pretty sure he would actually stop if she broke that rule, and that would kill her.]

Your nose is stupid. [It's a distracted, half-hearted retort. She's trying to encourage him to touch certain places, to anticipate where he's going to touch next.]

[ Hei's pleased with how diligent she's being, keeping to the rules of the game. At the same time, he can feel her warming to his attention, her excitement ratcheting up. His hum carries the ragged edge of a gasp when she digs her fingers into the meat of his waist. By now, he's created a mental mapwork of Korra's softest, most sensitive spots. Vivid and detailed enough to know what touch sets her off where, and how much teasing she can bear for how long. But he's not following that map, carved as it is with burning, selfish relief behind his retinas and in his fingertips and mouth and muscles. ]

[ Instead he raises his hand to her face, tracing the outline of her lips where he's kissed them. Then he curls it around the back of her neck, thumb on the divot of her jaw. He tilts her head, touching his lips to the apple of her cheek. ]

See? You're so easily distracted. But when I'm with you, you give me complete focus. Even when you're sticking your tongue out behind my back. [ He runs his free hand up along her body, feet to knees to hips to waist to shoulders, stretching over her like a cat. His fingers splay on her ribs, while his mouth traces the arc of her throat. ] I've always liked the way your neck fits into your shoulders. [ murmured as he dips his tongue into the hollow of her throat. ] Your body, in general. You look good in those tight little outfits. You probably know that, but. For the sake of full disclosure. And I like your hands, even if they're in my way half the time, [ He catches them in his, yanking them off his waist, pinning them above her head. ] Sometimes I want to tie you down. Just so you'll be good.

[ He wonders why he's talking this way, because it feels odd. The darkness is warm but also dangerous. Hei's always found the dark freeing -- a habit he's picked up from Amber. Like things can be said here, eyes closed and faces averted from each other, that ought not to be said at all. He should shut up. Talking isn't for people who regularly kill for a living. But he can't help but think -- She deserves just a little sweetness. ]

[More compliments. Korra's practically dizzy with them. She wants to return the favor, but it's really hard to think when he's touching her like this. (And if she interrupts, he might stop. Wouldn't want that.)

She protests inarticulately when he pins her hands. It's not panic, but she'd really rather not be held down like this.]

One thing at a time. [Are you planning to tie her up now? She can't tell, and that bothers her.]

As long as you behave.

[ Hei's voice is a husky strain in the dark, vibrating up through his chest. He's not interested in tying her up. Not unless he absolutely has to. Instead he keeps her hands pinned to the cushion on either side of her head. Mouths the undersides of her arms, biting where the muscle bulges. Traces their contours with his tongue, pressing his lips into the warm pit, licking the soft stubbly skin. Then his hands slide down, and her breasts are gathered by hard kneading fingers. Covered, weighed, squeezed. He presses them together, murmuring into the warm dip between, ] I really like your breasts. Sure, the overall package is nice. But -- [ He squeezes again, harder, his tongue a long wet flick between her cleavage. ] -- I didn't expect how much fun it was to kiss them ... like this ... or lick them ... or pinch them. [ He keeps it up, teasing, patternless, wanting to get Korra gasping, to get her body rippling beneath his. Rubs the tip of his nose against first one nipple, then the other, before drawing them both into the wet vacuum of his mouth, worrying them in deep hard pulls over and over. ]

[ He lets them go with a pop, and when he speaks, his voice has dropped; not deep, but quiet, scratchy, ] I could suck them until you're twisting and can't stand it anymore. Until you're telling me to stop and fuck you. [ The words are a hot vibration against her skin. ] Maybe I'll do that. What do you think, Korra?

[At this point, she almost doesn't hear him -- or she hears him, but she's in no state of mind to register. All of her attention is focused on where he's touching her, the wet tugs and sharp pinches and hard squeeze. It even takes her a moment to realize that he's let go of her wrists and she can grab onto his hair for dear sanity.]

N-no... [It's more of a whine than a word. She feels like she's half-mad with lust already; she doesn't know how much more of this she can take before just exploding. (A part of her is curious to find out...)]

[ Korra can't see Hei's expression, but his gaze is half-lidded, a languid yet ravenous glint to it. He can feel the heat and tremors of urgency building underneath Korra's skin. Her hands tugging at his hair send red dots marching behind his eyes and shivers corkscrewing down his spine. For a moment he's tempted to let her go. But the noises she's making, the dizzy, giddy, helpless look on her face ... it all proves too irresistible. Keeping her breasts in his cupped hands, he lifts them, squeezes them hard together, his hungry mouth latching onto her nipples. Feeding on then greedily, drawing in hard biting tugs as his tongue stabs at the springy points of each nipple. His panting breaths -- how can he be panting already? -- are humid against Korra's damp skin, and when he lets her nipples go, at long last, they're shiny and swollen from his mouth. (Like she's been devoured half to death, like she's been bitten raw.) ]

[ His weight is half-off her, half sprawled against her now. Knee nudging up between her legs, granting her a moments rough friction, before he parts her thighs wider. Lips against her sternum, fingers still loosely splayed around her breasts, he murmurs, ]

Still with me?

[She makes a helpless noise of assent, her throat already feeling raspy from the cries he's pulled out of her. Please....... just please. She doesn't have the wherewithal to beg but her need is blindingly apparent.]

[ The building heat between Hei's legs -- aching bloodrush and hardness and pressure -- is almost unbearable. It'd be so easy to strip her panties off and skin his jeans down, to align their parts and just sink into her. It's what they both want. He's hypnotized by the tells of Korra's body -- the way her breaths come in thready rushes, the tremble under her skin, the strain of the muscles in her thighs. Give in, give in. It's a dark, seductive murmur spreading in tendrils across the back of Hei's mind. ]

[ But no. That would be too easy. Instead he presses a cool kiss to the bottom of her ribs. His voice is steady, but he's sure Korra will feel the jagged rhythm of each inhale-exhale. ]

Be patient. Just a bit longer.

[ Then, before she can stop him, he's reached between her legs and yanked away her panties; they snap with an elastic crack between his fingers like bubble gum. ]

Ow! [It's less a cry of pain than one of surprise. The cool air hits her overheated sex like an invisible hand, and she bucks up to meet it.]

What are you doing? [Oral? Fingers? Something else? She can't tell like this and it's driving her crazy.]

[ What are you doing? She'd asked him that the first time he'd gone down on her, hadn't she? The memory wafts through him with a lascivious, half-nostalgic thrill. He still remembers how clueless she was, how unsure of herself, but so feverishly greedy too. Innocent. Well, she'd only barely done being a virgin that night. Had seemed to have little idea then of what her body could do, or require. And Hei didn't yet know the appetite or churning heat inside her. He barely knew Korra in those days. Whereas now he knows ... there is so much more to Korra that he's never met. He meets a little more of it -- bite by bite -- each time. ]

[ His hand rubs the spot the elastic struck. Very quietly, he says, ]

Nothing you won't like. [ He kisses the spot he's stroking, and something lodged in his throat, tiny and delicate as a fishbone, makes it hard to speak. ] I like how there's no part of you I'm not allowed to touch. Trust is tricky. But you seem to trust me with your body. You never clock out. Even if I don't always return the favor. [ He moves lower, to mouth Korra's stomach, rubbing his face against the brown skin, reveling in all the faint little scars here and there, in the flex of the muscles beneath. Biting her navel, he says, ] I like your ridiculous belly button. [ His tongue darts in there as well, ] You can get outies surgically fixed, you know?

[ He doesn't wait for her to answer. Instead he descends lower, buries his mouth in the fluffy tuft of Korra's pubic patch, ticklish against his chin. He half-smiles into it, biting lightly into the soft flesh beneath the coarse curls, one hand already tracing her lips, then dipping between them. Two fingers work in and out, then emerge glistening. His smile darkens. ] I like how you get so fucking wet for me. You don't pretend. [ He presses the softest kiss, wet and openmouthed, to the folds of Korra's sex. His lower lip just brushes the bud of her clitoris on the upper sweep of his rumbling, Pretend. Pinching her clit between his fingers, he laps the flat of his tongue across its taut point -- a long, lewd swipe. ] And fuck, it's just my fingers but. I can't wait to fuck you, to feel how hot and perfect you are when I'm in. But I have to taste you first, because I don't think I can stop myself.

[ It's murmured directly against her open wet flesh. ]

[You seem to trust me. She does trust him, which is the craziest thing of all. Not just with her body, not just when they're having sex. It's neither complete nor pure, but it's more extensive than their history warrants. She can't explain it.

He doesn't give her a chance to retort to the jibe about her belly button, but she gives his hair a good firm yank in revenge. She's actually glad for the blindfold right now, because she is dangerously close to tearing up and that's just ridiculous. There is absolutely nothing to cry about.

He talks, and in her mind she can practically feel his erection inside her. Fingers aren't enough. Tongue is not enough.]

Please. [Do something, anything, to take the edge off this burning ache.]

[ None of the words are necessary. Hei knows that. What he doesn't know is how to feel, how to cope with this pitch of tenderness, mixed as it is with a bitter resentful hunger for Korra too. She's such a cynosure. She draws him and irritates him, inspires and depresses. And yet there is a sweetness to her that gets his skin prickling, even as it fills him with dark curlicues of praise he wants to whisper into her ear. He'd been so sure before he knew all about human behavior, about detachment, about playing it like a pro, but this shows him up for an amateur. ]

[ Her Please is so throaty and desperate. He feels rather than hears it; slipping his fingers into the seam of her body, letting her clench tight and slick around his fingers. Then his face is suddenly tight between Korra's hot, damp thighs, the curls matted and ticklish. He hears himself groan, completely without artifice, his mouth wide and open and wet, sucking again and again on the tight, hot point of Korra's clit, feeling wetness and saliva slide down his chin. In his jeans, his erection aches, sharp as a throbbing cramp, but it doesn't matter. He's busy trying to find that spot inside Korra (and that's a thought; inside, secret, his) he can rub against which makes Korra's breath catch each and every time. ]

[ Not bringing her off, but winding her tight, tight, tighter. Because the longer he draws this out, the louder and brighter the final crescendo will flare. ]

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