poly_chromatic | ♦♦ 34TH CONTRACT

Entry tags:

darker than black - hei

♦♦ 34TH CONTRACT - ANONYMOUS TEXT/ACTION

I know the City's sense of humor is barely functional but... Is this supposed to be funny? These things are crawling everywhere. And I doubt they're here for the symbolism.~~They better not be poisonous~~.

Options For Run-Ins:

The Underground: [ In the lit-up nighttime panorama, he is an unnoticed blur. No need for masks and disguises here; he strolls sedately, engaged in his surroundings. Lingers outside a pawnbroker's window to eye up the flick-knives. ]

[ If you want to catch him, be quick about it. Blink once, and he'll fade seamlessly into the crowd. ]

Cafe: [ Almost five in the evening. He's perched at the back of a noisy all-night caff, the windows steamed up as the snow floats hazily outside. Hunched on a small chair with a teacup, coat and hair dripping, his gaze drifts across the surroundings with an idle interest. People-watching is an old habit, the bright impersonal chatter a kind of sop as much as the hot drink. ]

[ Come say hello while he waits for his pastries. ]

Park: [ The grass is a-glitter with frost. Sighing, 'Li' packs up his telescope and trashes half-empty styrofoam cups of tepid coffee. Above, the sky is shadowed behind a sudden blanket of dark-bellied clouds. Not an ideal night for stargazing. Bundled up in his oversized coat and woolly hat, Li slings his backpack and exits. It's the last quadrant of night; he supposes he could patrol, but really he'd rather walk down the center of the quiet streets, breathing the fresh wet air. Everything is closed and sleeping, and he can enjoy the brief illusion that there is no one, alive or undead, outdoors except for him. ]

[ And you, of course. ]

Carnival (Closed To Korra): [ Spread out under the dark screen of sky, the carnival is something like a human body -- all its cobbled arteries clogged with brisk feet and the clatter of carts and skirling music, the ferris wheel pinwheeling brilliantly and the rides moving in streaks of color against the snow-greyed backdrop. On whim, he sends Korra a snapshot and texts the location. ]

[ In addition, he thumbs in, ]
Let's see if you throw up on the rollercoaster.

[ So romantic. ]

[ OOC: Bitten By The Love Bug ♥ Come pester him! Interactions can end in awkward silence, surprises kisses, glomps, violence, tragedy, or anything else you prefer! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ The roads are a pretty, snow-dusted gray and devoid of human life. A sickle moon cuts through a bank of threadbare clouds to bathe shops and homes with a washed-out pall. When Korra leans in, Hei's skin prickles pleasingly, either from her words or the warm gust of her breath. He doesn't answer her, but his fingers squeeze her hand. Yes, please. ]

[ The alley he leads them into is cobbled and dim. Nearby, blood-red geraniums sprout in the window box beside the old pockmarked bricks, but glass is shuttered against the dark. ]

[ Against a clear space of wall, he crowds against Korra. Kisses her, fingers tangled in her hair -- a slip of lips and tongue before he breaks to gnaw that ticklish spot under her jaw. One hand grasps her wrist, guiding her hand down to cup over his crotch -- a gesture both honest and offhandedly lewd. Look what I have for you. ]

[She all but purrs as he makes his way down her neck. Alleys, they're good -- public but isolated. The thrill of being naughty without as much risk as, say, an amusement park ride.

She deftly unclasps his pants and reaches in to wrap her hand around his erection. She presses her lips against his ear.]

How much do you want it?

[ There's a fine tremor in Hei's muscles as she frees him. Against the damp, confining heat of his jeans, the chill air is a sweetly biting contrast. His cock, half-hard, twitches and lengthens into the curl of her fingers. She asks How much do you want it? and he quirks an eyebrow, though the way his breath stumbles in his chest makes it impossible to manage a perfect show of aloofness. He doesn't speak. He just brings her hand up to his mouth. Licks the palm, slow and languid as a handful of sugar sprinkles, then brings it back to his erection. Shows her how to make a proper fist around his length, and begins to tug. ]

[ Exhaling, he turns his head, lips ghosting over hers. There's something soft in his eyes, sparking dim and still. ]

Don't make me wait.

[ For once, it's not an order. It's a request. ]

[She grips him hard and strokes slowly. No waiting. But she still murmurs against his lips.] That's not an answer.

Korra.

[ His words are garbled, kiss-shaky, all heat and bitten lips and trying to stay quiet. Each upstroke triggers a small twitch, down the length of his erection, up across his sinews. He swallows audibly and exhales against her mouth. It sounds vaguely like a Please. ]

[What? It's not like she's holding back. She just wants him to say something. Okay, mostly she wants to tease him, because he's always teasing her and it's annoying that she can't give as good as she gets.] Come on. You've always been good with your mouth.

[ Sweet torture. There's no other way to describe what she's doing. Each slow glide of her palm is reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard in the worst (best) way. His body's heat bakes up through his clothes and seems to seep into the air -- a sizzling halo like a sun-fueled illusion on a summer highway. ]

[ Teeth gritted, he clamps a hand around the back of her neck, giving a tender but warning squeeze. ]

You need an engraved invitation to suck me off?

Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe................ [She circles her thumb around the head of his erection, teasing the opening as she nibbles his ear.]

[ Shit. She gets an involuntary hitch in his breathing, almost a gasp. Beads of pre-cum well from the slit under her thumb. This is really the problem when you let a woman get too intimate with your body; everything becomes one drawn-out fucking game. He wonders where all his old callousness has gone, that brutal willingness to shove her down on her knees, grab the base of her skull and ride into her mouth until he's spilling down the back of her throat. Instead of snatching the reins, he shivers, angling his head, her teeth scraping a sensitive point along his earlobe. ]

[ Quiet but raspy, he says, ]

If you -- keep this up ... I'm going to stain your nice jacket.

[ Just a reminder. ]

Edited 2014-02-19 04:09 (UTC)

[You're one to be bitching about games, Hei, considering you treat her body like a game of Operation, touching her as much as you can without letting her get off.]

Jackets can be washed.

[She's not sure why she's being so resistant to the idea; it's not like she hasn't sucked him off in public before, or that she doesn't enjoy it. But she's stuck on this need for him to ask. Not imply. Not manipulate. Not command. Ask, like she's a person who can say no. (Her mind shies away from that particular line of thought, not wanting to bring ugly memories of Carla, of him, into a pleasant evening.)]

[ Well, you have to admit, the sex wouldn't be half as much fun without that balance of giving and denying. (Perhaps a part of him, deep down, understands that this is their transaction: the culling of her creeping, strangling vines of disorientation -- a girl caught in a world with no structure, no goals, nothing to fight for -- and his love of the struggle she puts up in his process of culling them with his little rules and games.) ]

[ With that in mind, part of him wonders why she's being so inexplicably mingy. He almost grabs her wrist and wrenches her palm away to snap, What's with you? Instead he takes hold of her hand. Stops all movement but the saw of his breath in his chest as his cool fingers slide along her wrist, weave his fingers together with hers. His breathing calms and slows, and he clings to her warm little hand, squeezing it like a lifeline, an adult's umbilical cord stretching into nothing. He pauses, regarding her like he is looking into a cipher. Waiting, but he doesn't quite know for what. ]

[ Until something inside clicks, and he breathes against her mouth, and says, Please? ]

[He breathes that word against her lips, and something inside her relaxes. She huffs a little laugh and nips his bottom lip before sliding to her knees.]

Make sure no one's watching.

[And she licks the length of him in one long, teasing gesture.]

[ He nods, and shifts closer to her, offering himself to her delightful mouth and hands. She licks a hot wet stripe across his shaft, and the sensation triggers a quiet spasm all through him. He breathes out a sharp gust of air, but stays still. His attention forks between the warmth of Korra's tongue, and the stillness of the alley. In the long hollow hours of the late-night, the sky is gray-bellied with dark clouds, and the distant twinkling lights of the carnival only seem to compound the strange, skeletal sparseness of this empty street. ]

[ Leaning back against the gritty concrete, he reaches down, his hands cradling her skull, thumbs tracing the divot of her jaw. Kneeling before him, she should seem smaller, somehow. Strangely degraded. Yet there's a dizzying loss in his own control, like that creepy story of Delilah cutting Samson's hair. ]

[She's never really understood how blowjobs are supposed to be degrading. She's got her teeth around one of his most sensitive body parts. Slightly less deadly than a knife to his throat, but similar principle.

Korra swirls her tongue around his head and then sinks down on him, deep and fast.]

[ The sensation explodes messily through Hei, slamming him back into the real world, where sound suddenly travels so that his gurgling hiss of Fuck and the scrape of his boots on uneven cobblestones strikes him at once. ]

[ It's incredible, the way she swoops down and swallows his cock almost all at a go -- a shocking transition from cool, prickling air to pyrogenous heat and hard, sweet suction. Every muscle in his body clamps against the surge of his hips. His shoulders drive into the wall, his head rolls back, and his fingers grip her hair in tight fitsfuls, but stay where they are. He can feel himself touching the back of her throat, and it's enough to send little beads up pre-cum bubbling eagerly up. ]

[Korra regrets how fast she went down just a little; Hei may feel a variety of very interesting sensations as she tries not to choke. She loosens her throat and takes a long moment to focus on breathing.]

[ Oh, he does. And it's ... stimulating, to say the least. Her throat flutters and spasms around him, and he gently pulls back, thin strands of saliva sliding and breaking between her lips and his cock. Compared to the heat of her mouth, the air has an unpleasant wintry chill. He represses a shiver, cradling the back of Korra's skull, following it with his fingers, gently tracing through the soft mocha-colored down at the nape of her neck. ]

This is why it's important to pace yourself.

[ There's a soft dark-blue smile in his gaze. ]

[Her Shut up is muffled by the tip of his erection, which she still has in her mouth, and she scrapes her teeth gently across the top to indicate that she is not at all pleased with the lip he's giving her. And then she's sinking back down, more slowly this time, using her tongue to roll him around a little in her mouth.]

[ Hei raises his eyebrows in his politest, most brittle mask of innocence. But it crumbles into a grimace at the first vibration of her words, the hard scrape of enamel followed by the dark, delicious heat of her mouth. ]

[ His gratitude is clear in the way he gasps, and sags back, scrabbling his fingers through the tangle of her hair to get support, his spine arching and his hips rising a little against her mouth. Just a small pseudo-thrust -- before he swallows with an audible click of his Adam's apple, and goes still. The skin of his erection feels slick with cooling saliva. Hot beneath it. Korra can probably feel the sharp twitch of him against her tongue. ]

[ But nothing else moves. He's ready to let her take this at her own pace. ]

[Her own pace is punishingly slow... at first. Her appetite for sweet torture is dampened by a sudden cramping in her stomach. She shifts her position, assuming it's just a problem with her posture, and starts pumping him faster.]

[ Unfortunately, the State Of Korra's Belly is of no interest to him. ]

[ Instead he hums softly as her pace increases, his rising impatience clear in the way his legs tremble, one knee twitching each time her tongue concentrates on one particular sweetspot, the tickle of her hair against the length of his shaft, the tight curl of her fingers and the hot melting friction of her mouth. He lets his eyes slip half-shut, his hands passing and re-passing through her hair, sometimes pausing to hold her entire head, but always gently. ]

[Okay, her posture wasn't the problem. Korra lets out a faint little moan, more pain than pleasure -- her stomach is cramping really badly. She moves even faster and massages his balls, hoping to bring him off quickly so she can...stand up? Do something? Whatever. She just wants to get him off before things go downhill. Because she's pretty sure it's going to go downhill.]

[ She moans, and Hei shudders, halfway down her throat, jogging his memory, trying to tell if it's a good sound or a bad, and failing. It's too much -- the sweet slick suction of her mouth, the way his balls tighten against her rubbing hand, the feel of her quick little tongue. Distantly he feels himself tense, feels the quality of his erection shift in her mouth. With each stroke, his head swims, his groin heavy as all the blood settles there. A ripple rolls up his stomach, pressure building and stringing tighter and tighter -- and then his body freezes, locking as his cock pulses, thick splashes of spending pooling in Korra's mouth. ]

[ Shivering, Hei sags back against the wall. His breaths come soft and jerky as the after-echoes throb down his muscles and through his brain. ]

[Good is the last thing Korra thinks before she pulls abruptly away to throw up on the pavement, barely missing his shoes.]

[ ........Okay. Ugh. ]

[ A layer of deja vu overlaps the scene. There's a dim recollection of a half-dozen blowjob follies with sloshed barflies, woozy and bleary-eyed and teetering-on-highheels. Why, he'd always wondered irritably, would you ply yourself with so much alcohol that you wouldn't know what to do with a cock even if it slapped your fucking face? Made him want to get some booze down own his neck, in case he landed one of those clueless messes. Not that it mattered much to him, back then. Lie, lie, get what you want. Fuck and discard, then be on your way. That was the summation of his sex life in those days. ]

[ He watches as Korra staggers backwards, and hurls a spray of sludgy puke onto the pavement. Well. That certainly kills the buzz. He's not sure whether to be annoyed, or concerned, or disgusted, or embarrassed. He thinks about holding her hair back. Or touching her shoulder. Or asking if she's okay. Instead, he exhales and does up his pants, tucking his sweater into the waistband. Fuck, hell, heaven and earth ... At least she missed his shoes. ]

[ After a beat, he mutters, ]

Something in the cotton candy?

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