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

[ Hei quivers: a seismic wave up his neck and down his thighs. Not sure if it's from the scrape of her nails, the hot slip-slide of her mouth, or the chill of air she blows across his wet skin. His hands are no longer fisting the pillows. Sometimes he's scrubbing at his face and hair with them, sometimes stretching his arms all the way up, arching his back. He has to close his eyes, has to bite back pleas, even as he feels his jaw twitch with them. Don't stop. Don't stop. Korra will feel the gush of pre-cum bubbling up the slit. His synapses are howling just as loud as he wants to; his brain is going to melt and ooze out through his ears; he wants to come but he also wants to make her stop or he's going to die. ]

[ Also, and something of a surprise to him, the whole experience gives him the most awful oral fixation. He wants that slippery tuft of her sex in his mouth with a singular sort of insanity. ]

Korra... [ Unsteadily, he taps her flank. ] Spin around?

[ In his experience, the sixty-nine is a position better suited to fantasy than action -- in the doing there is more distraction than mutual satisfaction. Someone always gets short shrift. But at this moment, he's so eager for Korra, as greedy to give pleasure than receive it, that he's ready to fall into this without negotiation. As it is, he'll have to tell her to stop in another thirty seconds. ]

[That makes her tense. She pulls away and looks up at him suspiciously.]

Why?

[She's not much inclined to listen to your requests right now, Hei. It may seem like she forgot what happened earlier, but she hasn't. You probably want to stay far away from anything involving your hand and her butt for awhile.]

I'd like to kiss you.

[ He says it with an almost boyish matter-of-factness, though it's clear he's not talking about kissing her mouth. She can control this however she likes -- move away, or deny him outright. But it's worth asking. She seems skittish, defiant, and he can't blame her. As it is, he feels too revved up, and at the same time, too content, full of fluttery delight, to put up much of a fight. ]

[ A beat, then two, before he reaches out, hands starfishing. His face, absent the usual shutters or edginess or cruelty, is almost sweet. Sweet in its lineaments and natural expression, like a child's so often can be, as if there's no agenda behind it. ]

[A moment's hesitation, then she crawls up his body, chest to chest, her mouth a breath away from his.]

You can kiss me.

[Like this, not the way she knows you want. Consider it your punishment for earlier.]

[ There's a twinge of disappointment. But it fades when she maneuvers herself upward, her pretty mouth a breath away from his. Her body is a solid weight, a radiant heat. Hei lifts his hands, cradling her jaw, his fingers tracing the outline of her neck. He kisses her softly, feeling the pulse flutter under her lips, tongue tracing along their seam to catch the muted taste of himself. Circling her in with one arm, he pulls her against him, her body across his, their mouths together. Kisses growing hungrier, hands trailing up and down her back, into her hair, down around the curve of her ass. He wonders if she can feel his gratitude, his greed for her, in his grip. Just touching her isn't enough for him -- he can imagine absorbing her into his skin. ]

[ A cliche, but they're always so ingrained in your psyche, you don't always remember why they're so dangerous. ]

[ Eventually, his lips break wetly from hers. He doesn't understand why his voice sounds so young, so raspy, when he speaks. ]

I'd like to fuck you. That all right?

[She's tempted to say no, to punish him. It's the kind of thing he would do to her. But his hands make her shiver and his kisses make her dizzy and the part of her that's furious she turned down oral is saying No point punishing yourself too. She leans back in and kisses him hard.]

Yes.

[That is so much more than all right.]

[ Hei's smile is lost in the humid press of their mouths. There's none of the usual push-pulling. Gently, he rolls them so he's settled on top, arms bracketing her sides, and Korra's head is on the pillow, her sweat-damp hair spread out across it and her mouth opened against his. His kisses are hungry, wet and wanting, an erratic rhythm like rain battering at a window sill. ] Fuck, you feel -- [ But it's all lost in the side of Korra's neck, and in how he's cradled between the saddle of her thighs, coasting his hands up her body, palming her breasts, plucking the nipples between the rough pads of his fingers. It's all the same as it has been before. No, it is unutterably different. Too much space between them. The lushness of Korra's body and the hardness of his own creates some new sense of bottomless want, some vague and fevery mania, pleasure building upon pleasure. ]

[ He bites one last kiss, before drawing back on an inhale. No distance, but a half-lidded warmth in his eyes, ]

Let me do the work?

[ Strange, how it's not about control for once, this position. Just about keeping her close, her heat and heartbeat suffusing him. ]

[She takes her time studying his expression, trying to get a gauge on his feelings. Where his head is at. He seems to be all warmth and closeness and need and she wants so badly for it to be true.]

You'll listen this time, right?

[ He rubs a slow pattern -- up and down her spine, along her flank -- letting her examine his expression as long as she needs to. Soothing her as best as he can when he murmurs, ]

You can always punch me if I don't.

[ It's a quip, paired with a barely-there smile. But inside, he is quietly self-cataloguing, testing the limits of his own self-control. Hoping that he means what he says. That he won't ruin this any more than he already has. The feel of her, skin and hair and breath, helps in easing away that hyperawareness he always wears. A physical reminder that it's not necessary right now. ]

[ Closing the gap between them, he kisses her again, his thoughts fluttering up a storm in his mind -- then quieting. With his free hand, he reaches for his tangled pants, plucking out the foil square. His breathing is measured, his movements finely-honed and patient, when he rolls the rubber on and angles himself between her thighs. ]

[She scowls at him.] I don't want to punch you. [Which doesn't stop her from punching him in the shoulder now.] I want you to listen.

[She's annoyed, aroused, and oddly soothed by the pattern he rubs on her skin. When he kisses her, she sinks back into the bed, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer.]

[ Hei lets off a huff of air, more a gasp than a laugh, when her fist collides with his shoulder. (Part of him is still fighting it a little, the intimacy, whether he's aware of it or not, the mental scales tipping to and fro like he's trying to find purchase however he can.) But then she draws him close, and he can feel something in his chest opening to her like an unlocked diary. It's a warm place, not dark and thorny like everything else. Korra's name doesn't lie parallel to bitterness for him. Misgiving, yes. Self-castigation. But everything carries a vaguely sweet aftertaste. ]

[ He covers her, drawing her knees up, opening her wide. Settles his weight slowly over her body, becoming a living blanket as he intrudes. A faint groan spills out then, allowable in the general onrush. Making his first entrance, he pushes slowly deeper into her drenched sex, deliciously swollen from their earlier exertions. It grips him like her hand, tight and hot. He's so fucking hard for her, it's almost like he can lift her hips off the bed with his erection. But he wants events to unfurl more slowly. After that first impetuous bout, he's determined to get the absolute most out of this fuck before its destruction. ]

[ Shaking, he kisses her, his soft damp hair falling around them. Sweet, almost chaste this time, the filth and barbs and rough edges in abeyance for the moment. ]

[She hisses as he pushes inside, unexpectedly sore and he's so hot. It feels great; it's just a surprise. And he's shaking, which he's never done before. She almost wants to ask him if he's okay, if he's sick, but his lips are soft and sweet and she doesn't want anything to ruin this. She rocks against him, her breathing too deep and even to be easy.]

[ He's trying so hard to keep a clear head. But it's easier said than done. His thigh muscles are quivering. He can smell Korra, hear her breathing, feel her pulse thrumming around him -- inside and out. He's worried that if he moves even an inch, it will kick off an orgasm and he's not sure he can ride it through gently. The hiss that springs from Korra's lips seems like it'll flay the skin off his body. ]

[ (How long as it been, since he's felt this painfully honest?) ]

[ By degrees, he starts to grind against her. Rhythmic and fluid. Deliciously slow. He's so oversensitized. Each small movement ekes a quiet Mm from him. His hands explore her: her nipples, the softness of her breasts, the round of her hips and finally, her clit, hard within its soft curly pooch, slick with the ready wetness between her legs. With his thumb he makes idle circles. His mouth, meanwhile, prints kisses around the clock of her face, before fastening on hers. I've missed you. He still doesn't say it. Instead he feeds on her lips. Kisses upon kisses. Fashioned out of moist air and warmed between their mouths, passed from tongue to tongue. Gilded with sighs. ]

[ If he can just inhale Korra deep enough, get her right down in his lungs -- if he can just grip her tight enough -- maybe his mind will stop fragmenting and kaleidoscoping. Maybe his heart will stop hammering sickeningly in his chest. ]

[She can't remember the last time she got this kind of focus from him. If she ever had. He's almost always attentive, with the focus of a predator. A part of him always pulled back to watch. But right now it feels like he's trying to become a part of her. Like they're two continents crashing together, connected by a volcano of sensation. It feels like it should hurt. It doesn't, though. She's never felt better.]

[ The bed creaks beneath them with Hei's steady rocking rhythm. His breaths are short, shredding the silence. It's so strange, this goddamn need. So intense. A whole cache, stored up for so long without outlet. He can't stop kissing her -- licking and gnawing anywhere he can reach -- while her sex, as if it is a second mouth, seems to ripple with its own dark kisses, as if it wants to swallow him whole. His defenses feel broken, like Korra might drag him out the same way. Exposed, vulnerable, ruined -- fuck. It isn't just the consequences which make his mouth taste coppery and his eyes unable to focus on anything but Korra -- which make him feel like he's drowning in his own masks and layers and deceptions. ]

[ He wants this. And the very fact is like a hand on his throat. He feels stripped to his bones. ]

[ He can't tell Korra any of that. But suddenly, desperately, he wants to hear her speak. The imperfect silence mounts until he's afraid his tightly-sewn mind will split, unable to contain the illogical immensity of the thoughts within. ]

Talk to me. [ His voice softens to a plea without losing any of that raspiness and need. ] Tell me how this feels?

Seriously?! [It's not indignant -- just confused. And more than a little flustered. Turning thoughts into words while doing other things isn't exactly one of her great talents. There's that sense of panic she gets when put in front of a microphone, or when you ask her to speak spontaneously.] It feels... amazing. [He thrusts and pulls another moan out of her.] You're...really good at this...

[ Watching her fluster and struggle for words, a ticklish thought crosses Hei's mind -- is this what Korra is like, when she's with someone she actually cares about? Had she been like this with that Mako kid? All girlish and confiding and wanting and unsure of herself? He feels like a peeping Tom, watching under false pretenses. ]

[ He wants to reassure her that's he's not looking for compliments. Instead he keeps his mouth at her ear, his breath fanning hot and moist. Eyes slipping shut, the better to just soak up her warmth, just feel himself possessing her. ] Nothing I don't want to do. [ He rubs his bristly cheek against her neck. ] Good is ... relative, anyway. [ His rhythm has changed. Not quite a cessation of movement. Instead he curls tighter in, his thrusts pushing closer. Deeper. Rocking against her sweetspot, so she can feel his matted pubic hair and the hard bone behind it, rasping and grinding against her clit. ]

[ His breathing shifts, not ragged but definitely out of sync. ]

Your pretty legs are good, wrapped around me. Those fingers in my hair, good. Your sopping little pussy -- very good. Making me feel right at home. [ It's almost playful. Less about the quality of the smutty talk, more about the quiet level of intimacy between them. It's not always about sex, Hei realizes -- though to dismiss that would be blatantly unfair, all things considered. ]

[That initial confession, maybe. But most of Korra's relationship with Mako, if you could call it that, consisted of arguments and truths that should have been whispered, not shouted. Hei is the only person to ever see Korra quite like this; its own kind of nudity.]

...good? [She's really not sure what to say to all of that, particularly with the way her body demands all of her attention. How is she supposed to form words or thoughts like this?]

Goes without saying.

[ He almost wants to tease her, but stops himself. Her words seem too salty and overwhelmed, as if the sensations are pressing in on her, and he'll be damned if he makes her uncomfortable. So he dips into a warm, hungry kiss to call her back to their rhythm, to him, to this, and makes it long, lingering, lush, his tongue slipping inside her mouth. He's still moving with her, languid and loose-limbed, but the fulcrum picks up now. An insistent grinding rhythm that makes his breath unravel, makes his belly and thighs tighten. There's a part of him that wants to let go, to fuck her hard and fast. To come. But there's a part of him that wants this to last because it makes his nerves chime like metal bells with how fucking good it is, how she lights him the fuck up inside, his brain dissolving in that glow. ]

[ For now, this friction of bodies and mouths, is enough. The grind, the roll and pitch. Between her thighs, his thumb continues its slow whorls. Their skins are slippery, a sheen of sweat between them; a hot clamminess. The air vibrates, elastic with potential. So much neediness thumping inside him. One massive thundering heartbeat. ]

Ha. Ha. [Except the sarcasm gets swallowed into his mouth, along with every other possible thought. Higher level thinking skills are a thing of the past. She moves solely by instinct now, her body matching the rhythm of his. She tightens around him like a whirlpool, dragging him deeper inside.]

[ She tightens around him, and Hei deliberately kisses her again.There is hunger, but no more hesitation. His free hand finds hers, palm to palm, fingers clasping tight. The other begins a fast flicking to her clit, more pressure and more friction. His hips rock against her with purpose now -- a tight swivel -- as he sinks in deep. Comes out and slides in again. Each kiss more intense than the last, each gasp twice as desperate, each stroke more fulfilling. He can feel Korra's pulse thubbing everywhere -- a cadence that affects him like her voice. Heat coiling down his spine until it crowds out his self-control. ]

[ The melting potency of her surrounding him, welcoming him, again and again .... It makes his misgivings seem tenuous. Whatever he is, whatever she doesn't and can't know about him, this is real. Impossible to call it a lapse of sanity. To dismiss it as logic eclipsed by lust. Because lust is simple. Using that word carves away all the muddled details that dangle off the edges of this affair. How much simpler things would be if all he and Korra wanted to do was fuck. But the truth is, he wants so much more, all wrapped up in that moment. He wants contact. Heat. He wants to know who he is and be known. To feel the erasure of all his flaws as that blinding rush of instinct erases everything else. ]

[ It's nothing more -- nothing less -- than a messy recursion. ]

[Lust is simple. Insanity isn't. And that's really what this entire relationship is, even if Korra doesn't admit it to herself. Bit by bit, fuck by fuck, they've created a world that's just for them. A world with little relation to sense or good judgement if you look at it from the outside, even though it makes perfect sense from within.

Sense is overrated anyway. Sense never felt as good as this.]

[ How does that saying go? I have lived on the lip of insanity, wanting to know reasons, knocking on a door. It opens. I've been knocking from the inside. Moments like these, Hei understands the truth of it. His days with the Syndicate were an undeceptive delirium; his mind building its own facts, constructing its own semblance of sanity, and living them out. He's been in the maw of madness, wielding lies, masks, blackmail and gunstocks for two damn decades. What would his life have been like if he'd never become an assassin? Stop it. Fine. He's used knives, garrotes and guns. He's destroyed people, been torn apart every-which-way from Sunday, lost his sister, lost his mind, lost his place, and is only just re-stitching them together. Few men are as lucky as he is, to have tasted life's breadth and depth. ]

[ And he's not holding a gunstock now. Just Korra. Who is a hurricane, but not destructive in and of herself. ]

[ His tongue swirls around the curve of her ear. Her tangled hair is in his mouth and the fingers of his hand are spread out across her back, while the other hand nudges a slick thumb against her clit. He wants so badly to see her come. The sight of her, sprawled beneath him in gorgeous disarray, affects him like a stimulant shot into the bloodstream -- presaging a loss of control, disorganization getting in, bleeding towards madness. ]

[She doesn't break with her usual scream. He's stolen too much of her breath for that. She comes with a strangled gasp, almost like it hurts (like any earthquake would). Her heels dig into his sides hard enough to bruise; her nails into his shoulders hard enough to draw blood. She pants through the aftershocks, desperately grabbing for whatever air she can reach.]

[ When she peaks, nails and heels and everything tightening around him, Hei grunts, deep and low, his body jerking as if she's completed some electrical circuit. His hands feel electric too, skimming her body, circling and claiming her. Their skins stick and unstick; sweat-damp, glistening. He pushes hard against Korra, grinding from side to side, letting her ride the orgasm out. It's hypnotic, feeling that beautiful, girly gyration of her hips, with his cock stuck in all of that motion, in the middle, fucking into all that wildness. He kisses her through gritted teeth, hot and messy and open-mouthed. Begins to fuck her hard now, the way he likes, feeling his erection ache against the burning heat inside her. ]

[ It takes him longer to orgasm this time. Against his pinching fingers, Korra's clitoris feels swollen and tender. Somehow it matches the feeling in Hei's brain, in his groin, like all the blood in his body is congealing between his knees and belly. The climax throbs through him in thick, languid shudders, from his heels to his heart. Exhaling, he closes his eyes so that he won't black out. ]

♦♦ 33RD CONTRACT - ANONYMOUS TEXT/ACTION

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