poly_chromatic | ♦♦ 33RD CONTRACT

Entry tags:

darker than black - hei

♦♦ 33RD CONTRACT - ANONYMOUS TEXT/ACTION

...Back again.

I could do without the psychic jetlag. No worse for the wear, despite it.

[ Anonymous Text ]
Sing A Song of Sixpence The Child's Rhyme A Lie 1 & 20 Blackbirds Baked As They Die

[ Do not be alarmed. It's a code, not threats of animal abuse. Simply Hei's way of testing the Network-waters. ]

[ Private to Yin ]

~~Are you all right ...?~~

Status?

[ Private to Pai ]

I'm at the safehouse.

[ Options For Run-Ins ]

Cafe: He's assumed 'Li's persona -- timid and dopey-faced. A walking chameleon. But right now, blending with the scenery isn't his priority. The opposite. He's utilizing the freedom afforded by the City to stick out. To play chicken with himself -- after months of paranoid caution. You'll see him seated at the corner, with an unobstructed view of the cafe's interior. Elbow-deep in several platters of fried food, gorging like it's his last meal on earth.

It's his sixth. But fugitive life does wonders for an already freakish appetite.

Dojo: Avoiding the facility’s tangle of Life Cycles and Cybex machines, he's focused on a series of punches, blocks, and kicks to the air that, to the uninitiated, might look like a martial dance routine. It's a kata, but nothing formal or stylized. He has no interest in revealing the full scope of his abilities. Even so, his moves are good -- smooth, practiced, and powerful. They would be impressive in any grizzled combat veteran, but this guy seems at least half that age.

His visit to the dojo isn't an indulgence, or a way to burn off energy. It's a way of reassuring himself that his enemies-- his real enemies -- really are all back home. Or it could be a way of saying come out, come out, wherever you are.

The Underground: In his absence, things have moved around. Locations have changed; reigns of power have switched hands. But it's nothing too drastic. Masked, alone, he propels himself into his first patrol of the year. He feels almost like a kid, a high school student, gone away during summers -- not to visit family and friends but off to anonymously toil in some big city. Now he's back from big travels -- big character-altering, mind-boggling travels. And somehow, the cliche is true: everything in the City seems slightly tepid after having experienced all that disasters and miracles back home.

Of course, it's never a good idea to imagine there is anything tepid about the City. Not so long as it brews with such indefinable magic. Things that pour out of it, or gravitate to it, large or small, are never harmless. In that department, even Hell's Gate has nothing to boast of in comparison.

Anywhere Else: Invent your own setting! You know the drill! c:

[ OOC: Officially off hiatus, and Hei is back in the City, after a brief canon update! Post is anonymous and unhackable as always! Tags will be sporadic so your patience is appreciated<3 ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Premature ejaculation would hardly count as a disaster, Hei. She'd honestly be a little charmed. Or at least amused.

The heat of his erection against her clit makes her gasp, She remembers what it felt like to have him inside her, completely bare, nothing separating their skin. A part of her wants it desperately. But she also remembers how scary it was, those first few weeks after he left, not being sure exactly what the consequences would be. It's not something she wants to repeat.]

Don't stick it in like that. [Breathless, needy, but nervous too.]

[ Her voice -- that sweet breathless pitch -- prickles at Hei with a scrambling urgency. He forces it down, his voice a rasp. ]

Hmm. No premature fire ... until the weapon's in place.

[ Which is a terrible pun, but he can't bring himself to care. Every part of him feels excessively sensitive -- in the style of scientific instruments -- picking up readings from too far away, corrupting relevant data. He's distracted, for instance, by the hollows of Korra's collarbones, the soft pillow of her lips, the dark tickle of her hair, tangled like spiderwebs all around them -- whereas he should be focusing on the ambient noises, or how the dim light bleeds in through the shutters. Environment. Time. Other occupants. But his brainwaves are slow. Shifting. Like they're feeling out the room's edges, while every cell in his skin leaps to Korra's drugging warmth. ]

[ He nuzzles the soft, vulnerable jump of the pulse in her throat. One arm slides under her back to lift her. He dips his head, swirling his slick tongue across each nipple. Gulps them into his mouth one at a time, as if eating her alive. The other hand reaches for the discarded heap of his jeans. The sounds of rustling -- fumblings-in-pocket, the crinkle of foil and liquid roll of the condom -- are almost inaudible under his ragged exhalations. Nudging his sheathed erection between her thighs again, he continues to rock against her, the dark head and the thick vein on the underside smeared with her moisture. Even with the rubber, it feels so good. He knows he's going to come within minutes of sinking inside her. ]

Korra...

[ He's not sure if he's warning her or asking for permission. This is about as gentle -- controlled -- as he's going to get. ]

Huh? [The joke goes sailing over her head. But whatever. He's kissing her skin and biting her breasts and everything feels so good how did she go over a month without this she's pretty sure she's just going to nail him to her bed so he can't disappear again. No more disappearing.

He says her name and she sighs permission, even as she reaches down to position him. She's in no mood to just lie there and wait for him to enter.]

[ He half-wishes she would nail him down. Bright after-images of back home -- battles and bloodsprays -- keep floating in the darkness behind his eyes. He blinks them back, dizzy, throat searing, nose full of the smell of Korra's shampoo and skin and the scent of her arousal. Anchoring him. There is no artistry. No conversing or meeting her eyes. Pinning her under him, he draws her legs up, ankles crossed at his spine. Mouth buried in her neck, he pushes into her in a hot slippery-slide. ]

[ Oh. ]

[ Red spangles burst behind his tight-shut eyes. He shudders on a dark groan. Whole body enveloping her, engorging her -- inside and out. She's exactly as he remembers. Tight as a glove and gorgeously wet. Panting, he presses his forehead to hers, so she can see her blurred reflection in his dilated pupils. They're crowded so tight together, his body pressed heavily on her breasts and belly. Mashing his pubic bone against her slick lips, he grinds it back and forth against her clit. His control is already slipping, the urge to pound her lapping up into rapid snaps of his hips. ]

[ All he can think about is fucking her. Nothing else matters. ]

[Artistry is overrated. Or maybe it's not, but it's not what she wants right now. The tight grind is perfect. She locks her ankles behind his back and bites down hard on his shoulder, remembering how much he always enjoyed that (and maybe, unconsciously, hoping to leave some marks of her own on his skin. To counter the scars, perhaps, or just to anchor him here.)]

[ Arched over her, Hei exhales a satisfied hum as she bites into his skin. He doesn't care if she leaves marks. He wants them. Pretty reminders welting his skin; secret badges to signify time well-spent. ]

[ Grasping her right thigh with bruising purpose, he hitches it higher. She's so tight, it feels like she's squeezing him in two. Withdrawing the slightest, he pushes in deeper. Repeats the motion, over and over, until he's fully seated. It's a rapid rolling fuck when he begins. Too messy for precision; too greedy for finesse. Breath sings in his lungs. Somewhere inside, protests -- Go easy. Slow down. -- flare up and burn. But the ever-present monster in him doesn't care. Friction. Sensation. That's all he wants. Korra's sex is a sweet, hot trap, sending his heart rate amping up. He slams into her repeatedly, the pursuit for satisfaction unrestrained. Each motion sends his pubic bone bouncing off her clit. Each deep twisting motion filling her -- stretching her -- as if he wants to tear her deliciously apart. His face is buried in the damp curve of her neck. He mouths at her skin, gnawing on it each time he strokes up inside her. ]

[ I've missed you. I've missed you. He can't say it, even if, in its inexplicable way, it's true. ]

[No need to slow down anymore. The secret to their relationship -- she enjoys the way it hurts, like fight to be won or a challenge to be overcome. She gets kicked down and picks herself up again and it gives her someone to be. She tangles her fingers in his hair, holding on tight as she feels the storm building deep in her belly.

She can feel the words he can't say, his body more honest than his mouth could ever be. That's one of the reasons she likes touching him so much.]

[ Hei rolls his hips, a stuttering, sharp movement. Dangerously close to the edge. His body is hard against Korra's; a collection of joints and muscle and webbed scars. A worn-out whip made flesh. His movements are similar -- rapid and snapping. He slides back, to the length, until just the tip still opens her, then slams forward again, exhaling a drawn-out gasp. Slickness. Wetness. Heat. It's too much. Meltingly enveloping him, sending his brain fritzing, his thoughts shattering like a million bloodied starlings terrified into flight. He wants so badly to come. But he wants to wring as much from this moment as possible. Not just for himself. But for her too. ]

[ He bites at the sensitive spot near her ear, salt and pheromones tangy on his tongue. When he pulls out, one hand gripping his cock and the other braced above Korra's head, his mouth is inches from hers. His eyes are dark and feral. ]

Get up. I want to fuck you from behind.

[ Not to establish distance. Not for a disconnect. But the way she's lying beneath him, wisps of that dark hair damply plastered to her, she is hypnotic. He's half afraid he'll lose himself in gazing at her, which is cliched but chillingly true. ]

[It may not be his reason, but that's still what it feels like. She's been with him enough times when he's gone away into his own head, usually right after sex but more than once during. She knows it has something to do with his life back home. It only stands to reason that the same thing would happen now.]

No. [She'll have none of it. She tightens her legs around him and tries to pull him back in to finish business. Detach on your own time, buddy.]

[ He exhales a noise as she tries to draw him back in -- dragged out, closer to a moan that isn't deliberate but purely instinctive, wanting to both resist and sink into her slick heat again. Maybe she's afraid he'll drift off into his mind. It's not an unfounded risk. But even hot and heavy in his own hand, Hei thinks about how this is so fucking Korra -- a contrary little baggage from start to finish. Maybe another time, he'd be in a mood to indulge her. Not now. Instead he growls and kisses her, biting down on the lushness of her lower lip. It's an angry, helpless kiss -- but freeing in its own way. When he breaks, he's not sure if he's ordering or begging. ]

Come on.

[ Forcefully, he tips her onto her elbows and knees. If she doesn't resist, he'll arrange her to his liking, her ass angled deliciously high, her hair spread in a dark tumble across the sheets. He rubs the tip of his erection up and down her slippery slit. It's perfunctory. More to get himself lubricated and get inside her in a hurry than something to tease her. He hopes that's all right with her tonight. Consideration is a shadowy thing; he can feel a long-stymied aggression bubbling up the surface, erasing everything else, a bright-orange wash of lava. ]

[ Teeth gritted, he lines their bodies and sinks into her with one hard shove. ]

[I said no! The protest is lost in his mouth, and he's flipped her over before she can really struggle. Stupid fucking selfish bastard. When this is over, she's going to break his stupid nose. She'd said no.]

[ Maybe later, when the fog's lifted from his mind, he'll apologize. But right now, he doesn't care. He keeps a tight grip on her hips as he rides her, deep and relentless. Each motion, each wet pistoning, threatens to grind her along the mattress until her head thumps against the wood. The best way Korra can avoid that is to grab the headboard and push back against him. Breathless, fevery, he stares down at her exposed back: the flared hips pinching into her waist, then broadening out to her shoulders, a lovely ribbed curve of vertebrae down the center. Gripping her hip with one hand, he splays the other palm along the smoothness of her skin. Her spine is sinuous, and her shoulderblades seem like they'll sprout wings. ]

[ Gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous. (Does he say it out loud or think it? Maybe both.) ]

[ Withdrawing, he thrusts again -- hard enough to send a shockwave resonating through her. Letting her feel how hungry he is for this. How much he wants her -- even if it comes out in less than pretty ways. ]

[Whether he apologizes or not, she's going to make him regret it. She growls as she grips the headboard and pushes back against him. It feels good, but his lust his hardly flattering. It doesn't feel personal. It doesn't feel like it has anything to do with her at all. He just needs a body to come into, and while physically it might feel good... she still doesn't like it. (It never occurs to her to try and use their safe word.)]

Edited 2014-01-14 00:44 (UTC)

[ Hei has no idea what's going through her head. To be honest, he has no idea what's going on in his, either. ]

[ Instead his fingers snake up into her tousled hair. He fists them and tugs. Drawing her body into a taut arch, her throat bared, he watches the dip of her spine -- a perfect legato. When he smacks her -- two stinging blows -- it sets the dark, smooth curve of her ass to shuddering under the flat of his free hand. He follows immediately with a caress, tracing the curve of her backside with his palm, before coaxing her up onto her knees. (It's an effort to remember this isn't some whore he's paid for the night. This is Korra. She deserves more tenderness. Deserves more warmth than Hei's miserly doses of it.) ]

[ Maybe next time -- will there be a next time after this? -- he'll lavish her like a fucking profligate. Right now, he is too frantic to get off. No subtlety. All locomotion; pounding her fast and with only one end in mind. ]

[ Hauled upright against his chest, his free hand spans her belly, keeping her close. The fingers of the other hand are still tangled in her hair. Tipping her head back, he rubs his rough cheek against her soft one, gnawing hungrily at her jawline. He's rocking in tight, sharp jabs now, sunk completely into her. But when he says her name, it's on a breath that's wrenched like a sob. He may be manhandling her. Mounting, rutting, taking. But with every gasp, every stroke, it's clear she's beyond his ability to resist. ]

[ The house could burn down around his ears and he would still fuck her. ]

[He did not just -- Of course he did, and she is going to kill him. She's going to break his nose and his jaw and then knee him so hard his testicles will come out of his mouth. She reaches back and claws his face. If she draws blood, so much the better.]

[ Her nails dig into his cheek. There's a rasp of cuticles on skin, and a bright burn of pain. He's pretty sure she's drawn blood. Somehow that excites him further. God, what is wrong with me? This isn't how it's supposed to be -- how he is supposed to be. Not now. But Hei can't wonder. Can't think. There is no space. He only realizes he's coming when the aftershocks hit him, his body drenched in warmth and sharp unbroken tremors. It seems to go on, all the misery of his nights on the run emptied into her. His spine cramps up painfully; he lets off a long soft groan into Korra's shoulder, slowly unwinding. ]

[ Thudding heartbeats. Slowing breaths. His erection stays in the twitchy clutches of her sex -- half-hard and oversensitive. After his long famished time, he isn't finished with her. But the moment's lassitude is welcome. Slumping sideways, he takes Korra with him. Still wrapped around her, cinch-style, but loosely now, arms and legs gone lax. He feels far off -- ransacked and cored-out -- as if his orgasm has thrown him back into the depths of himself. ]

[ But one thing is clear. He's afraid to meet Korra's eyes. ]

[As well he fucking should be.

She elbows him, hard enough to knock him back and get his erection out of her. She can already feel her muscles throbbing complaint from his rough treatment, and it just makes her angrier. How dare he. How dare he. He knows better. They've been through this before. She's not crying, but she can't tell whether it's because she's not quite angry enough or if she's too angry for tears. She stares at his blank face, his eyes empty, like there's nothing inside him.

Crack. The room seems to echo with the force of her slap.]

[ She elbows him off. And Hei jerks back, even as he realizes that he's moving to embrace her; his arms close on nothing. Now that the cruel spike of lust has diffused, misgiving takes root. He shouldn't have done this. Shouldn't have gone about their reunion this way. He's too unhinged, too troubled, to be drawn into any semblance of sweetness. He'd feared all throughout coming here, that this wouldn't work, that his return has left him too altered, and this confirms it. Mostly he feels like Hei. Hei firmly in the saddle, more so since he's fucked. But the mere thought that this is so hints that things inside him are out of sync. He can't let them be. Shouldn't waste time, hers, his. ]

[ He doesn't want to be parted from Korra. Spend time with the morbid, and you develop a taste for the wholesome. He probably appreciates her twice as much, having nearly been swallowed by the fiasco in Tokyo. The universe is composed of pairs of opposites. ]

[ But it's not worth it if he keeps pummeling her -- body and psyche -- into one big bruise. ]

[ He wants to speak. But then her hand is connecting with his face, hard. He hears the slap almost before he feels the sting on his cheek. In other circumstances, it'd be easy to see the blow coming. Easier, still, to retaliate. But he doesn't. His eyes are wide, but the rest of him is expressionless. Not angry, not sad. Just nothing. ]

[ Inside, a cruel voice murmurs: It's a fraction of what you deserve. ]

[She swallows thickly, struggling to find her voice.]

I don't care how bad it was for you. I don't care that you need to adjust. When I say no, I mean no.

[She needs him to understand that. As long as he understands that, things will be okay. Because while she might say that she doesn't care, she does. It matters to her that he's suffered. She's willing to forgive. She just needs to know that he understands.

(She's ignoring the part of her that knows better.)]

[ Numb, blank-faced, Hei stares at her. ]

[ The intensity in Korra's eyes, all that anger and hurt piled up, might tug someone else's heartstrings. Her emotions are always so enormous and all-encompassing, the risk of being sucked into them like flotsam in a whirlpool so strong, he knows he has to stand firm lest he disappear inside it. Part of him is almost grateful for the slap. It clears that awful muzziness from his head. But the other part isn't sure if clarity is exactly what he wants at present. Intellectually, he understands where her fury stems from. He wishes he could say something. I know I fucked up again, like I always do. I messed up this meeting. I didn't just leave you in doubt about it, about me -- I was actively cold and strange and awful. I used you. She's probably thinking he can't be trusted, probably thinking he's just going to hurt her and hurt her. And while he wishes he could claim it won't happen again ... there is no guarantee. ]

[ It occurs to him, then, with a crawling inexorable softness, like drifting out of a dream ... He really is dead inside. He can't be loved better. There is no special snowflake who can "fix" him. He needs a whole hospital wing of experts to get to work on that. For decades. And even then, he's not a guy someone like Korra should spend a second whinging on about his damage, scars or feelings. ]

[ If you admit all this, why not cut her loose? He doesn't want to examine the answer too closely. ]

[ With effort -- sick, unsteady, dull and dumbstruck -- he speaks. ] I'm sorry. [ Can he even say he's sorry? What does that even mean between them? Every I'm Sorry just tears them up a little deeper. ] I know that doesn't mean anything. Saying it. But it's true.

[Whatever it means, it takes the wind out of her anger. She sags into the bed and stares up at the ceiling.]

I know.

[Sighing, she rolls over to look at him. She winces a little at the marks she left, and hesitantly reaches out to touch the wounds. She doesn't say I'm sorry because she's not...but there's still a hint of apology in the gentle touch.]

[ The silence that follows her I know ... It seems unbreachable. For once, Hei has no idea what she's thinking. She seems to believe she cares about him, though he can't sort out what that can possibly mean, if it doesn't include knowledge, trust. The kind of instinctual ease she has with her other friends. It's so stupid, this whole tangled affair, like he's knocking his head against a wall. How has she become so twined inside him that he can't rip her out without ripping some part of himself out too? ]

[ Again: he doesn't want to know the answer. ]

[ He's so trapped in the sticky web of his mind, that he actually flinches when she touches the gash on his cheek. He stares at her with a blank sort of alarm, stiff and automatically jerking back, as if she'll slap him again. But that's not what this is. He hesitates, then lets her touch him, gaze fixed on that doubt sparking in her eyes. Feeling like he's in soldier mode, heartbeat steady, hard and intense. Forcibly, he overcomes it, putting up a tentative hand to cover hers. Something hot and damp backs up behind his eyes, but at the same time they feel dry and hollow in their sockets. ]

[ Nuzzling her palm, he whispers, ]

Do you want me to leave?

Is that your answer to everything? Leave? [Annoyed, but not pulling away. He's the stupidest, most aggravating person she has ever met, and all she wants to do is curl up against him like everything's normal and okay.

It is okay. (It isn't.) It will be okay. (Maybe.)]

We should clean that up. [She doesn't like the way her fingers are sticky with blood.]

Usually.

[ He manages but doesn't quite succeed in a smile. The way he's phrased it, it isn't even a lie. Korra's fingers are separated from the thin skin of his cheekbone by a sheen of blood. But he can feel them; slick and imparting, it seems, electricity. His mind seems to be flashing on and off like a landing light on a dark airstrip. Signalling to what and for what reason, he doesn't know. But signalling. It'll be all right. It'll be all right. It's the same mantra he's recited to himself, those months he's been on the run. Repetition has turned them stale. Pointless white-noise. ]

[ Squeezing Korra's hand, he gently nudges it off in what he hopes is a reassuring way. ] I'll handle it. [ Don't trouble yourself in another language -- but less dismissive. It's hard to separate himself from the cozy nest of her bed, but he finds himself rising. He pauses at the bathroom doorway. Head tilted, looking at her in that way he realizes Amber sometimes watched him, too, as if he was very far off, and which usually made him feel like he had to reach out and grab her to make a strange feeling of displacement go away. But now isn't the time to do that, so he sketches an awkward little finger wave, and goes inside to wash up and get rid of the condom. ]

[ He'd like nothing more than to re-start where they'd left off, before everything went pear-shaped. But he has no idea if Korra will want him hanging around -- regardless of how welcoming she seems. ]

That's dumb. [She ends up saying it to his back as he heads to the bathroom. Running away never solves anything. Yeah, sure, sometimes you need a little space to think, but at the end of the day, you still had to practice your figures, and memorize your histories and work on your airbending forms.

She stretches as she waits for him to come back. Despite everything, she does want him to stay. It's not like it was even that bad, really. They were already having sex. It wasn't that awful. (The lies and the rationalizations are already beginning.)]

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retroactive content warning for anyone reading this thread oops

8'( orz

oh god hei WHY

cray cray

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