Chapter 1: A Thousand Miles
Summary:
Republic City
Asami and Korra"A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton.
Chapter Text
Asami woke to the sound of Naga's enthusiastic barking. She rolled over and glanced at her bedside clock; it was just after two in the morning. "Naga!" she called, but Naga kept up her noise. Asami swung herself out of bed and belted on her robe, not bothering with slippers. She automatically took up the electric glove she kept next to the bed. It's not that she seriously thought that someone would actually try to break into her penthouse above Future Industries; there was a guard downstairs, for one thing, and for another, who would want to incur the wrath of the Avatar? But Asami was a woman who always believed in covering all of your bases.
"Naga?" she called, and she made her way out the bedroom, peering into the gloom. "Girl?" Naga's barking had taken on a frenzied tone, and Asami made her way down the stairs that connected the loft bedroom to the rest of the penthouse as fast as she dared. "Naga? What is it?"
There was the sound of something hitting the floor with a loud thud and Naga's barks turned into a combination of whining and enthusiastic yips. "Naga! Shhh! You'll wake her up."
"Too late," Asami said, but she was smiling. She walked forward and toggled the lights. Korra was laying on her back next to the elevator doors that served as their front entryway, a delighted Naga slobbering all over her, her pack discarded next to her. Korra grinned up at her and got a very large and wet polarbear dog tongue in her mouth for her trouble.
"Aaaaaugh! Naga!"
Asami laughed. "I thought you weren't going to be back until next week." She slid the glove off of her hand and put it on one of the end tables near the elevator.
"Well, things wrapped up faster than I thought. I hitched a ride with a freighter."
"So that's the smell I am smelling."
"Eau de Fish. Pretty popular smell where I come from. Not as good as engine grease, but hey, what can you do?" Korra grabbed at Naga's ears and shook her head back and forth affectionately. "I should probably take a shower."
"Probably," Asami agreed. She couldn't stop smiling.
"I thought about trying to call you to let you know when I was coming but I thought I'd surprise you."
"Color me surprised."
Korra grinned at her, shoving Naga's head out of the way. "So I guess you have to be work first thing tomorrow morning, huh?"
"Normally, yes. But tomorrow morning I have a very important meeting. Last minute thing. I'll send a message to my assistant and let her know that my morning is completely booked and I can't possibly be disturbed." Asami gestured at the pneumatic tube set next to the elevator doors. "In fact, if you go and take a shower, I'll do that right now."
Korra sat up. "It'll be a quick shower."
Asami raised an eyebrow. "It'll be a quick note."
Korra sprang up easily from the floor. "Better get to writing, then." With a wink she raced past Asami and clattered up the stairs. Asami huffed her amusement and walked forward to scratch Naga's chin. "I know, girl. I'm happy, too." Naga's tail thumped joyfully on the floor as Asami took up pen and paper and quickly jotted down a note, her heart light.
Chapter 2: The Rare Flower
Summary:
Zaofu
Wing and Nuo"The Rare Flower," by Kate Bush.
Chapter Text
Nuo woke the way she always did; her eyes wide open, her senses quickly taking in all of the information to be had. Where? The cottage once used by Wing's grandmother. Who? Her darling darling Wing, of course. She turned her head slightly to see him still sleeping next to her, his lips twitching gently. Why? The slight ache deep into her sex affirmed what she'd done the night before. Done three times, in fact. Nuo smiled.
The girls at school used to talk about the first time they'd lie with a man. (Or a woman in Fan's case, Fan had always been very clear about where her interests lay.) There had been a lot of high-pitched giggling, well-heeled and advantaged schoolgirls pretending more sophistication than what they really had. Nuo understood how it worked in the houses these girls had grown up in; sex was making love and it was done discreetly and tastefully behind closed doors. In a bed. In the dark. With a nice husband from a good family, properly vetted and approved.
Nuo was from the Lower Ring. Down there it was fucking, it was a skirt thrown up around hips and being ground against the bricks of a back alley with someone that made your blood burn.
Wing was nobility the likes of which most of the girls at her school couldn't even hope for. Rich. Esteemed. Privileged. Educated. Well-mannered. His was a family legacy of bending that was only matched by the airbending family from Republic City or the Firelords themselves. He was nothing that little Nuo, daughter of a washer woman and a bricklayer could have ever dreamed of. He was a tremendous catch, a boy that even the fastidious mothers of the Upper Ring couldn't find fault with.
She loved him so much. So much that she was a little frightened of it. Her! Nuo! She was fearless, she was determined and strong. She wasn't afraid of anything! But she loved this boy sleeping next to her, this boy with his soft and rumpled curls, with his green eyes and his strong hands that he always washed so carefully so that the dirt under his fingernails from his gardening wouldn't show, oh, this boy with the smile that lit his face whenever he saw her. She loved him the way the only way she knew how, with every fierce exhalation in her body, with a ferocious and all-consuming passion. She didn't know any other way to be. The very idea of losing him made her feel panicky, made her heart beat an unsteady tempo, made her throat close up. He was so sweet. So kind, a dreamer. He saw right through the protective shell she'd put around herself, reached right through it to charm her with his kisses and his earnestness. She'd fallen so hard for him she didn't know what to do with herself. He made her feel young in a way she'd never felt, like the world was fresh and new and lovely. And he thought she was beautiful. He made her feel beautiful, made her feel like she was something precious and cherished.
She was going to marry him. She was going to marry him and give him beautiful children from her body, a gift she would never give to anyone else. She was going to pour all of her energy, all of her ruthless drive into this city he clearly loved so dearly. She would build something with him that would live on for generations to come. She would do this for him. Only him. All for him.
He was splendid. She loved the interplay of muscle under his brown skin. Wing was only eighteen, younger than she was by a year. He hadn't finished growing yet, no longer awkward in that way of teenage boys but still developing the solidness of an adult man. He wasn't as tall as his father, but far broader in the way that certain earthbending men could be. She was glad he wasn't so tall. She still had to crane her neck up to look him in the eyes, but it wasn't impossible. The strength in those arms, though! He picked her up like she was nothing, like she was one of those slender willowy girls she went to school with. She was peasant stock, through and through; short, thick of thigh and wide of hip and with breasts that threatened to overspill out of every dress she ever wore. Wing had touched her everywhere last night, telling her again and again, with a voice that trembled, how beautiful she was. He'd run those strong fingers over every inch of her, kissed her generous belly with reverence, buried his face into the breasts that a schoolmate had once referred to as hippo cow dugs and had suckled at her nipples until she came so hard she screamed with it. He'd grinned down at her, that irrepressible Beifong grin, and had said, "Let's do that again," and she had gasped, laughing, when he took a nipple in his mouth and bit down gently.
Carnal. That's how he made her feel as well. She'd never heard anyone actually say that word; she'd read it in the romance novels that Wu loved and left laying around. But how else could she feel when he'd put his sensitive mouth to her vulva, running an experimental tongue along her clitoris, looking up at her face to see how she was reacting. She'd touched herself there before, of course; she wasn't one of those girls too embarrassed to explore her own body. She'd even stroked herself there while thinking of Wing. But nothing at all had prepared her for how his tongue would feel. She'd come again, so hard she'd been shocked to find she'd left a wet patch on the sheets. She wanted him to do it again. And again. And again. She wanted him to put her on her hands and knees and take her from behind. She wanted to take him into her mouth again, the way she'd done last night while he moaned her name over and over again and shook with it. None of the girls at school had ever talked about that, the power she'd felt, knowing that she was the cause of him grabbing at the sheets, of the sobbing breaths he was taking in desperately while begging her to stop teasing. When he'd finally spurted in her mouth she hadn't even minded, although it had surprised her. Well. She'd just have to do it again and pay more attention next time. She wanted to make it last longer for him next time.
Oh, the things she was going to do to him. Carnal things. Wicked things. Hedonistic things, things that would make him beg and scream and shake. And she'd show him how to do the same things to her, she wasn't shy. Why should she be shy? This was Wing. Her Wing. Hers. Hers forever.
With a nearly silent laugh she sat up and slid a leg over him, coming to rest gently on his stomach, her hair tumbling down around the both of them. He'd kept touching it, taking it between his fingers, and she'd left it loose even though she knew it would be hopelessly tangled by morning. Never mind. It'd be worth the half hour or more she'd spend trying to get a comb through it all. She was aware, as she moved against him, that she was still sticky and she was transferring all of that to his belly. Well. They could shower later. But first. First.
Wing stirred and opened those green eyes to stare up at her, blinking a bit in surprise. "So," she said, and she couldn't keep herself from smiling.
"So," he replied, and his mouth curved up into that sweet, sweet smile.
Hers.
Chapter 3: Time in a Bottle
Summary:
Republic City
Lin and LoLo"Time in a Bottle," by Jim Croce.
Chapter Text
"I have no idea why I'm fussing so much. Your parents will like me or not. For fuck's sake, I'm in my sixties. I'm too old for this damned nonsense." Lin attacked her hair savagely with a brush.
"They'll like you. What's not to like?" LoLo sat on the bed, massaging at his knee a bit, watching her through the open door into the bathroom.
"I'm eight years older than you. I surely won't be giving them any grandchildren. That ship sailed years ago."
"They have plenty of grandchildren. Even some great-grandchildren. Trust me, Lin. They gave up hope of grandchildren from me years ago. It's nothing to do with you."
"How badly is that knee bothering you?" She stopped disciplining her hair to turn and glare at him. It was a glare that had been known to stop Triad leaders in their tracks. It had made grown men cry. LoLo, on the other hand, just shrugged.
"It's been worse."
Lin pointed the brush at him. "Don't you bullshit me."
"Finish your primping, woman. Not that you need it. You look like a million yuan, like you always do." He grinned at her.
"Hmph," she said, and tossed the brush onto the bathroom counter, taking up her tube of lipstick. "Well excuse the life out of me for wanting to look halfway decent when I meet your parents." She applied lipstick and blotted at her lips with a tissue.
"As far as I'm concerned you always look decent."
"If you're hoping to get laid I have to tell you, I'm not in the mood."
With a small sigh LoLo stood up and walked into the bathroom, standing next to her to look at her in the mirror. She was just a hair taller than he was, something that had never bothered him in the least. He never had been the kind of man who needed to be taller than a woman to appreciate her. He'd certainly never felt the need to be somehow better than a woman he loved, not even when he'd been young and hot-headed and stupid. He was proud of the fact that Lin was a thousand times the bender than he had ever been, not to mention her former work as a police chief of an entire city. That she was a damn attractive woman was just an extra bonus as far as he was concerned. "It's not like you to get this worked up about something. What's going on?"
Lin frowned at herself in the mirror. "I just want to make a good impression. That's not too hard to understand, is it?"
"They'll like you. You make me happy and my parents aren't like your mother, you know. All they've ever wanted from all of us kids was our happiness. They are nice people. Uncomplicated. Still in love after all these years. They met when they were both sixteen, did I ever tell you that?" Lin shook her head and he wrapped an arm around her hip, tugging her closer. "My father's father had worked in the kitchens under Ozai, and his father had worked for Ozai's father, all the way back several generations. My father was pretty much a shoe-in at that point. My mother, on the other hand, came from a family of shopkeepers. She liked cooking, though, and shopkeeping didn't appeal to her. So my maternal grandparents managed to find her an apprenticeship at the palace. Which was pretty lucky, all things considered. So in comes my mother, her first day, she was all nervous and excited at the same time, told me when I was a kid that the royal kitchens were larger than her parents' shop, even. She was taken around, introduced to everyone, and put to work chopping onions, of all things. My father came in, took one look at the girl with the red nose and weeping eyes, mangling onions." LoLo laughed. "Apparently she hadn't really developed her knife skills at that point. So anyhow, my father took one look at her and he decided that he was going to marry that new girl AND teach her how to chop onions. Not in that particular order, mind." He tucked Lin's hair back behind one ear. "He always joked that my mother chopping onions got him so worked up it was no wonder he sired so many of us."
Even Lin had to smile at that. "Well, I can guess where you got your humor from, anyhow."
"They're good people. Ordinary people. They never chummed around with the Avatar or saved the world or created a new kind of bending. Hell, for that matter the flashiest my parents get with their own bending is to light a fire from across the room. They raised eight children to adulthood and we all turned out pretty well, all things considered. No criminals or deadbeats, at least. The fact that you make me happier than anyone else in my life is enough for them, believe me. I've written enough about you the past few years, they've really wanted to meet you."
"I don't know why I'm so nervous. I guess it's just that I've never actually met someone's parents before." At LoLo's look at her in the mirror she grunted. "Well, the only man I ever dated long enough to warrant a parental meeting was Tenzin, and his parents had known me since birth. It hardly counted."
"Well, can't learn any younger."
"Not helpful. Not in the slightest. Asshole."
LoLo laughed and kissed her on the cheek. "You'll see. My father will have spent all last night and most of today making sure he's serving you the best dinner you'll ever hope to eat in the Fire Nation. My mother will tell stories about me as a kid and ask you a thousand questions. Not because she's nosy but because she's genuinely interested. I did make them promise that for tonight it would only be the four of us. I can't make any promises about tomorrow, though. Expect my sisters to come out in full force."
"Still not helpful!"
"Look, I did insist that we would stay in a hotel and not at their home. That was a fight, let me tell you."
"I've already heard about it from Izumi as well."
"We'll go. We'll have a good dinner. My parents will be happy to meet you and will do their best to charm you, and their best is pretty good. Tomorrow we'll connect up with the rest of the family. I've got a brand new grand-nephew I'm looking forward to meeting. Everyone will like you. Look at it this way - after my second wife I could bring home an unagi and my family would be happy!"
"Did you just compare me to an unagi?"
"Woman, I do not want to die on this fine day. Not before eating whatever meal my parents are putting together, at least. I did not compare you to an unagi." He ran a thumb across the sharp blade of her nearest cheekbone before kissing her there.
"You know, if I recall correctly - and I usually recall pretty correctly - you told me at the beginning of all this that it was a no-strings attached kind of thing. And here I am in the Imperial City, getting ready to meet your parents. I'd call that strings."
LoLo looked at her in the mirror for a very long moment, his face serious for once. "Lin, I'm not a young man any longer. Hell, middle-age is passing me by more quickly than I'd like to admit. I've been married twice and divorced twice and I wasn't an innocent party in either case. When I met you I'd given up on finding anything serious. I figured I was good for a few no-strings flings for the rest of my life. Hell, when I met you I wasn't even sure what my future held. I was a navy man, working for Wu was never in my plans, I can tell you that much. It changed. You changed it. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don't care if we get married or not, I really don't. I don't care that you need to keep your own place in order to still feel independent. I did care that you were trying to keep us a secret for so long but that's over and past now. I wake up just about every morning with you and I've never been happier in my life. It was worth this spirits-damned knee getting destroyed just so that I could meet you. You're the finest woman I've ever met, Lin Beifong. Sometimes I wish I'd met you when we were still young, even though I know we would have never suited each other when we were both young. It's only because I wish I had more years with you. I don't know how many years either one of us has left - plenty, I hope - but I do know that I want to spend them all with you."
Lin looked away, mouth twisting into a grimace, her eyes filling up. "You're a fool, Lozan."
"Fool for you." He grinned at her, dimple flashing, his arms wrapping around her waist and turning her into his embrace. "Come on. Kiss me and then we'll go."
"Kiss you and then reapply my lipstick, you mean." She glared at him and he laughed at her.
"Whatever you say, old girl." He put both hands to her face and pulled her in for a kiss, her lips, as always, soft and sweet, the embodiment of the contradiction that was Lin Beifong. The woman he loved.
Chapter 4: Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic
Summary:
The Northern Air Temple
Baatar and Huan and Ikki"Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" by The Police.
Chapter Text
"Huan! Huan, I'm back!" Ikki's voice called through the long rough stone corridor that led from Blue's cavern into their bedroom. "Are you there? Can you help me with her saddle?"
"Okay," Huan called back, and he obediently put down the handful of metal that he was making into something. Baatar wasn't quite sure what, yet. Huan had been fucking with it all day, and it still looked like an unformed blob to him. Not that he was going to say as much. Huan was sensitive about his art. Huan glanced over at him, a quick darting look before he stood up. "You could come and help."
"Don't think I'd be welcome," he answered, and moved his protractor over slightly before marking the paper with his pen.
"Maybe you could say something nice."
He looked up at him, cocking his head to the side. "Like what?"
Huan shrugged. "I don't know. I'm the wrong person to ask about that." He stood there for a minute, fidgeting, his fingers twisting together. "Could you try? Okay?"
He sighed and stood up. "Fine. I will try. For you. She's going to take my head off no matter what I say, you know. She doesn't like me." Huan stood there stubbornly, eyes to the floor. "Come on, before she gets mad at both of us. Having her mad at me is enough for the whole mountain." He gave Huan a very gentle push towards the door, following him as Huan made his way into Blue's cavern.
"Guess what?" Ikki said as they entered, her quick smile lighting up her face, "I found...oh." The smile dropped. "I only called for Huan."
"Right," he said, and turned on his heel to walk out. Not today. He was not in the mood for this today. Huan reached out quickly and grasped his wrist.
"I asked him to help. We can get it done faster that way," Huan said, and he stared at Ikki, not backing down. Huan had a stubborn streak a mile wide. He wished Ikki luck with it. None of the rest of his family had ever been able to get around it, that's for sure.
Ikki threw up her hands. "Fine. Come on, you can help me unbuckle her." Huan let go of his wrist and he went to Blue's far side, thumping her as he reached for the buckle of her harness. Blue rumbled. At least she seemed to like him.
"What did you find?" Huan asked from the other side of the bison.
"They just got a shipment of fresh greens in. I picked some up. I thought we could have some for dinner tonight!" He couldn't see her from where he was positioned, but her voice sounded happy. "I got some fresh bread, too. Oh, and I have a letter for Baatar."
His fingers stilled on the buckle. "Who's it from?" His voice was sharp; sharper than he had meant it to be.
"Um...from your mother, I think?" Ikki's voice was apologetic. "I..." she came around Blue to stand in front of him. "I told her you were here the last time I radioed Zaofu." He said nothing. "Look, I did tell her that maybe she could give you some space. I'm sorry, I know you're probably angry with me about it. I just really thought she should know. Your parents were so worried about where you were."
He shook his head. "I'm not angry. It's fine. It's not like it was a secret I was up here or anything." He held out his hand and she put the letter in it. He looked down at his name, written in a familiar hand and took an involuntary step backwards. The envelope skittered about in fingers that were suddenly shaking. With what? Rage? Fear? He wasn't sure. He felt light-headed suddenly and he staggered again. A distant part of him was aware that his breathing had gone harsh and ragged. He ripped the envelope open, tearing the single sheet of paper inside, his gorge rising as he read over the short note inked in bold, decisive strikes.
Ikki's face was concerned and even Huan came around from Blue's other side, his eyes wide. "Baatar? Is...are you okay?"
"This isn't from my mother," he gritted out and he tore the letter in half, frantically grasping at it to tear it again and again, shredding it until pieces fluttered to the stone floor below. "I have to...I'm sorry. Sorry." He spun around and made his way out of the cavern, ignoring Huan's anxious queries. He took several steps towards Ikki and Huan's room and then stopped, trying to get his bearings. He couldn't seem to breathe and his legs started to give out on him.
"Baatar!" Ikki's grabbed at him as he sunk down to his knees, bracing himself up with one hand to the floor. "What's wrong? Can you tell me?" She crouched down next to him, and put a hand to his shoulder. A dim part of his mind recognized that she was using the same calm and steady voice that she used with Huan when Huan was having one of his attacks. "You say the letter wasn't from your mother?"
He managed to shake his head.
"Not your father either?"
He shook it again.
"Well, it clearly upset you, so..." her voice drifted off for a moment. "Oh, spirits. Was it from her? From Kuvira?"
At the sound of Kuvira's name his heart started to lurch so hard in his chest that he gave an involuntary cry of pain. He was marginally aware of Huan standing in the hallway, his hands fluttering as frantically as his heart was.
"Okay. Okay. Look, it's just a letter. She's not here. She will never be here. She's going to spend the rest of her life in prison, she is never going to get out. You know this." Ikki took his free hand in hers. It was the first time she'd ever held his hand. Her hand was dry; she had strong and capable fingers, slightly rough from exposure. "Try to breathe, okay. Can you do that? Can you do it with me?" She put her other hand on his chest. "Come on, let's try together. A deep breath in. Can you try?"
He tried.
"Good, that's really good. Now push it out, that's the way. Can you sit down? On the floor? Huan, can you help him?" Between the two of them they managed to get him to sit down, his back against the stone wall. Huan sat next to him, leaning close. Ikki sat cross-legged in front of him, taking both of his hands in hers, talking to him in that same voice, soothing him. He closed his eyes and was horrified to feel a few tears escape. He let her voice wash over him, not paying attention to the words, exactly, just the tone. Ikki had a light and expressive voice, usually full of warmth and laughter. Like she was. He continued to try and calm his breathing, taking deep breaths in and letting them out, following Ikki's instructions. Ikki, speaking so calmly, holding his hands. Oh, Ikki, she was the most radiant thing he'd ever seen in his life. He wasn't a fool, he knew she had her faults like anyone else. But there was something about her, something whole, something pure, something real. Something good. She made him feel like there was hope, even for someone like him, the man he'd become, angry and bitter and so full of despair. She made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he could come out the other side of all of this, all of the pain he'd caused and was still causing. All the pain he had no idea how to fix. He loved her for that.
He...what?
His eyes flew open to meet her eyes, a clear dark gray. She smiled, that funny little upside triangle grin of hers, all teeth and laughter, and his own mouth opened. "I...Ikki..." he blurted out before he realized what he was doing. He clamped his mouth back shut again, before he'd say something he'd regret, something foolish like, you make me want to be a better man or you make me feel like I might get past all of this or even, spirits help him because no one else was going to, I think I just realized that I'm falling in love with you and that scares me more than I'd care to admit. He took a deep breath instead. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. I can't imagine what a shock that must have been. I'm the one who's sorry. I just assumed it was from your mother. I had no idea who it was really from."
"Not your fault."
"I threw the pieces off the ledge." That was Huan, his voice fierce. Both he and Ikki looked at him. Huan's mouth was set, and his hands were clenched. Huan was angry. He exchanged a quick look with Ikki. "She can't do it, make our lives up here go bad. We're nice here. It's nice. She can't come here with her lies and her hurt. No. This isn't her place. Never her place. This is our place." He reached out with his hands, grabbing at both Baatar and Ikki. "No. Not hers. Ours. Ours."
"No. She'll never come here." Ikki squeezed both of their hands and they sat for a time in silence. "You okay now?"
"I think so. I don't...I don't know what happened to me."
"Sometimes it happens to me," Huan said, and he entwined his fingers into his brother's. "Ikki helps."
"I used to have terrible nightmares when I was a girl. I'd see Amon's mask in my dreams, wake up screaming and shaking. My mother always came into my room, without fail, and she'd just talk to me about normal things until I was able to calm down. It always helped me. I'm glad I was able to help you."
"Thanks."
"Anytime," she said, and she gave him a smile, a real smile, not one of halfhearted ones she usually gave him out of some sort of obligation to his brother. The moment was broken, however, by a plaintive bellow from the forgotten Blueberry. "Sorry, Blue!" she called down the hallway. "We're coming right now!" She hopped up nimbly and pulled Huan with her. "Come on, we better get that saddle off of her." She pulled him along behind her. Huan followed, unprotesting.
Baatar sat in the hallway and stared at his hands. We have ourselves a bit of a situation here, he thought to himself, and he put his head into his hands.
Chapter 5: The Mayor of Simpleton
Summary:
Republic City
Bolin and Opal"The Mayor of Simpleton," by XTC.
Chapter Text
"This is really nice. I didn't know they would do this. Close off a room like this, I mean." Bolin looked around the table they were sitting at, set in the middle of a small private dining room, separated from the rest of the restaurant by walls and a door.
"I got the idea from Mako, actually. He finally got fed up with interruptions whenever he and Wu tried to go for dinner and asked Kwong's to do something about it."
"Yeah. It's not that I mind giving autographs, but I wish people would be nicer about it. It's not very nice to interrupt me when I'm having dinner." Bolin picked up a chopstick and twirled it around his fingers. "Although I could put on a fake mustache next time! Then it'd be like going to dinner with a spy, huh?" He waggled his eyebrows at Opal, placing the chopstick across his upper lip and dropping his voice into a rough growl. "It's on the down-low, sweetheart. No one can know who I am."
Opal cocked her head and thought about it. "You'd probably look pretty handsome with a mustache."
Bolin sat back. "Really? You think so?"
"Sure." Opal nudged his foot with hers under the table. "My hunky super spy guy."
"For you, beautiful lady, I'd grow a mustache." He twiddled the invisible end of said imaginary mustache and Opal giggled. The waiter showed up and they ordered dinner, waiting until he left before taking each other's hands across the table.
"So. I want to talk to you about something."
"My future mustache?"
Opal laughed. "We can come back to that later. No, I wanted to talk to you about moving."
Bolin frowned. "Moving? As in, moving to the syncopated beat moving? Because the last time I tried to do that I broke somebody's foot." He hunched down. "I still feel really bad about that, you know."
"That was an accident, sweetie. You didn't mean to. I wouldn't worry too much, he seemed pretty happy about getting a walk on in your latest mover, despite the broken foot. But anyhow, what I meant was moving as in moving house moving."
"Ohhhhhh. Oh, you mean moving moving. Like away from the Island?" Bolin looked hopeful.
"That's exactly what I mean. Do you remember that big house up on the way to Asami's place, the one you always say looks like a cake that fell over on its side?"
"Sure." Bolin held his hands up in an approximation of a house and then let one hand fall over.
"That's the one. Well, I made some calls and I found out that it's been for sale for some time now. No one's bought it because the house isn't livable any longer, it had far too much damage from the Colossus. Not to mention there's a lot of spirit activity around there, you know that puts a lot of people off. Thing is, though, it also has a lot of property attached to it. All of that wooded area back behind the house belongs to it. So I asked Dad to go over there with me when they were visiting last month and take a look around. Dad says that the entire house would have to come down and we'd need to build something up from scratch. He also said that there's plenty of room to build a sort of barn for Juicy, including a courtyard for Juicy to take off and land in. If we could do that then I'd be able to commute into the Island for my training. He sent some plans for us to look over."
Bolin stared at her. "Your Dad would build us a house?"
Opal smiled. "Well, that's what he does, you know. Although he wouldn't build it himself. He'd just draw up the plans, we'd have to hire a company to do the building part."
"A house? Just for us? For our own?" His eyes were wide and he put both hands to his face. "All ours?"
Opal leaned forward over the table to kiss him. "All ours. Just ours. You've got money saved from the movers, and my parents have already said they'd put in the rest. We can definitely afford it."
His eyes filled up. "Oh, I always wanted my own house. Just mine." He gave her a tremulous little smile. "Well, and yours too, of course. I never wanted to complain because Tenzin's always so nice about letting us stay on the Island, but I really really wanted to have my very own house." He closed his eyes and gave a joyful wriggle. "My house. I like how it sounds." He doffed an imaginary hat. "Hello, folks. Welcome to my house. The house of me. And my lovely lady, too. Our own little house." His eyes flew open. "Oh! We could give it a name! Like...The Serene Overlook!"
Opal giggled. "It doesn't overlook anything."
"Oh, right. Um...The House of Bending!"
"That sounds like a school or something."
"Right right. Wait! I've got it!" He spread his hands out across the table. "The House Where Bolin And Opal Lived Happily Forever And Ever."
Opal's giggle morphed into a laugh. "How would we fit it on a sign, though?"
"With very small letters?"
"Hmmmm. We can decide on that later. Listen, most of the reason I was reluctant to move away from the Island was because I wasn't sure where we could live with Juicy. I wasn't about to leave him out there all by himself. But since we'd be able to have a barn for him on that property it would be fine. But there's another reason why I want us to get our own place now, though."
"There is?"
Opal nodded, smiling. "I have a present for you." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small box.
Bolin stared at it. "It's not my birthday, though. It's not your birthday, either. Is it anyone's birthday?"
Opal shook her head, still smiling. "It's not a birthday present. Well. Not yet, anyhow. Go on, open it."
Bolin took the box and untied the ribbon, opening it and taking out a pair of tiny knitted baby booties. "Um, Opal?"
"Yes?"
"These are really cute and all, but they won't fit me."
Opal's shoulders were shaking. "They aren't meant to fit you."
"Oh. Well that's a good thing because I was going to say! Boy, I hope Opal doesn't think these will fit my feet because these are like baby-sized!" Bolin laughed. "Like baby-sized little sock thingies would fit me! Because I am not, as it happens, a baby. But! They would fit a baby. We don't know anybody who has a baby, though, do we? Mako's little girl is too big for these now. So who do we know that is going to have a baby?" Suddenly his eyes went so big that Opal was afraid he'd hurt himself. Wordlessly he pointed at Opal's stomach.
Opal nodded and laughed, her eyes filling up. "Uh huh."
His mouth made a perfect O of surprise. "A little baby? You are going to have a little baby? My little baby?"
"Yes. I started to get a bit suspicious and I went to see a midwife two days ago and she confirmed it."
Bolin burst into tears. "Oh Opal! Is it true? Am I really going to be a Daddy?"
Opal slid into the chair next to him and threw her arms around him. "You really are. And you are going to be the best Daddy in the entire world."
"I'm so haaaaaaaaaappy," he sobbed, laying his head down on her shoulder. The waiter chose that moment to come into the room with his arms loaded with a tray of food. He looked alarmed but Opal motioned him forward. He quickly laid out the food while Bolin continued to sob, making his exit as quickly as possible. Bolin suddenly raised his head up. "Boy or a girl?"
"Oh Bolin, I don't know. We won't know until the baby is born."
Bolin put his hand on her stomach and then drew it back. "Can I do that? Is it safe?"
"Of course it is. You won't feel anything yet, though. I'm only about two months along."
Bolin put his hand back. "If he's a boy, do you think we could name him San? After my Daddy?"
Opal kissed him. "I think that's a wonderful idea. Yes. Absolutely yes. Two hundred percent yes."
"Opal, I know I'm not the smartest guy you know. But I promise you, I'll be the best Daddy I can be. I promise. I'll never let anything happen to you or the baby or even me. I love you, so much. So much." He leaned down to put his mouth right next to Opal's belly. "Do you hear me in there, Baby? This is your Daddy speaking. Let me tell you, I can't wait to meet you. But I don't want you to worry about anything, okay? You just stay right in there and grow big and strong, you leave it all up to me. I'll take care of your Mommy for you. You're going to love it out here, just you wait and see."
"Oh Bolin, I love you too. And I know you are going to be a really good father. But listen, I haven't told anyone else yet, okay? I don't want the world to know. I know that eventually I'll start to show and then all of the newspapers will be trying to get pictures of me. But for now, can we just keep it quiet? That means not telling Varrick. Varrick won't keep his mouth shut. Promise me you won't?"
Bolin nodded from his position near her belly. "I promise, Opal. But...can I tell Mako? I think Mako would be really hurt if I didn't tell him."
"Yes, of course you can tell Mako. He won't be going to the papers with it! And Wu will keep his mouth shut too. I'll write a letter tonight and tell my parents." She ran a hand through Bolin's hair. "This is the first grandchild, you know. I think my parents are going to be pretty happy."
"I got a new house and a new baby all in one night. This has been the best night ever." Suddenly he sat up. "Hey! The food is here! When did the food come?"
"When you were busy crying. Come on, it's still hot. And I am really hungry."
Bolin patted her stomach. "Now, don't be fooled by her appearance, Baby. When your Mommy gets hungry she can really pack it away. Remind me, after you're born, to tell you the story about the time we went to the noodle joint in the south side of town and your little bitty Mommy here out-ate your Uncle Wei."
"I'm about to out-eat you. Pass me over some of that rice."
"Sure thing. Mommy."
"Thank you very kindly. Daddy."
Opal hooked her foot around Bolin's ankle and leaned against him as she ate.
Chapter 6: I Don't Go To Sleep To Dream
Summary:
Done as a Tumblr request for a crackship for my own OCs.
WEIQITIAK.
I don't even know, people. Sometimes you just write what the shippers ask for.
Fiona Apple's Sleep To Dream kept going through my head, though. So there you have it.
Chapter Text
"I've never stopped thinking about you," Sitiak said, carrying Qi in arms the size of Qi's thighs. "Even after I went back to Zaofu. It took everything in my power not to take you away with me."
Qi reclined back on the velvet divan, body cool and languid in white satin. "I know." Qi tugged on one of Sitiak's braids until the man's head hovered above Qi's. "Go on and kiss me now."
Sitiak obliged, his mouth coming down on Qi's with a force that made Qi shiver. Qi's fingers ran over Sitiak's bare back; Qi had never actually felt anything that muscular before. Sitiak's hands started to work some sort of magic on Qi's bare skin, deep pressure that made Qi's breath hitch and Qi's body writhe. "I want," Qi whispered spoke in a voice that was clear and loud. "I want. I want now."
"You're magnificent," Sitiak whispered, and his mouth closed down on Qi's nipple, making Qi arch up. "I've never made love to royalty before."
"Stop making me wait for you," Qi replied, and Qi's long hair spooled through the jasmine-scented water, Sitiak's thumbs tracing circles around Qi's thighs. "I'm tired of waiting. But I think you'll need help."
"I know," the man replied, trailing his braids along Qi's stomach. "But he'll have to take off his uniform first." Wei unbuckled the vambraces on his arms while Sitiak kissed along Qi's hipbones and Wei pulled Qi backwards along the bed until Qi could feel his erection pressing into Qi's spine.
"Don't worry," Wei whispered into Qi's ear. "I've done this before." He kissed Qi's mouth as Sitiak's lips moved across Qi's hipbones, closer and closer, and Qi was ready, so ready, not sure any longer whose hands were where.
"Yes," Qi moaned, "Yes, there....please there...please don't stop..."
"I've dreamed of this," Wei said into Qi's mouth. "I've dreamed of you, of you this way, of you opened the jar on purpose, I know you did!"
Qi started to kiss harder, but Wei was pulling away. "I told you it was an accident!" Sitiak said, his braids growing longer and blacker. "Don't be such a baby!"
"I'm going to tell Papa!" Wei said, and suddenly their hands were gone and Qi sat up straight in bed, sweaty and very aroused, breath coming hard and fast.
"I don't care! You weren't supposed to bring it up here anyhow!"
Qi leapt out of the bed, stomping through the bedroom and into the sitting room, voice raised to its highest possible volume. "I had best not see nobody in front of my door when I open it, wakin' me up this early in the mornin'!"
There was a small shriek; a squealed, "Sorry, Qi!" and the sound of feet clattering quickly down the stairs.
Qi banged Qi's head a few times into the door jamb. "Fuckin' kids. Knew I shoulda stayed above the garage." With a groan Qi walked back into the bedroom, landing on the bed with another curse.
Chapter 7: The Way I Do
Summary:
Republic City
Wu and Mako
Notes:
This follows a few days after Chapter 38 of Bits and Pieces; Dribs and Drabs. You should absolutely read that before you read this.
Chapter Text
The King entered his suite at the Four Elements, closing the door behind him. His feet were soundless on the plush carpet. The note left for him at the front desk had told him that his royal robes would be waiting for him in the master bedroom; he went in there to find them carefully laid across the bed. He put them on, hanging his ordinary suit up. The weight of the embroidered fabric pushed down on his shoulders as it always did, and he stood there for a moment, his eyes closed, letting the silk cool his skin.
The carved rosewood box that held everything the King needed was placed on a table in the bedroom and he opened it. The jeweled nail guards were there; as well as ointments, the silk restraints, the cool bone of the godemiche, the mask. The long wooden paddle had been carefully placed on the top, however. Ah. That meant that the Concubine was looking for redemption tonight, redemption he could only get from his King.
The Concubine had asked for a rattan cane for these times, the times when what he wanted was for his King to draw out all of his guilt, his neverending remorse, but the King had refused. He had seen first hand the sort of lasting damage it left in its wake and that he would never do. The King stared at the paddle for a moment before pulling it out, giving it an experimental slice through the air. He smiled as he placed it on the bed and slid on the nail guards. Tonight he would be a stern King, then. He sat down in the chair and waited.
He knew his Concubine was waiting in the small servant's room next door. Waiting to be called. Trying to keep his breath even. Oh, his beautiful Concubine knew how to wait, knew how to be patient. He'd tested him, made him wait once for hours, on his knees, and his Concubine had kept still and quiet, nothing moving but the slight exhale of his chest.
Beautiful.
"You may enter," the King called. His Concubine came into the room and immediately kowtowed in front of the King. He was nude but for a thin silk robe, the sash tied around his waist. Oh, but the King wanted nothing more than to take off his own robes, to feel his Concubine's hands on his skin, the rough scars of the left palm juxtaposed with the smoothness of the right, abrading and then soothing. Not yet, though.
Not when his Concubine needed him.
"Concubine," he said, his tone implying a boredom he certainly did not feel.
"Your Majesty," his Concubine said, a hitch in his breath. Oh, pretty pretty thing. The King knew what he'd see if he made his Concubine stand, knew that arousal was unfurling inside the both of them, sinister and achingly sweet.
"Well?"
An involuntary shiver rippled through the silk covering the Concubine's back.
"I...I..." His Concubine swallowed, head still dropped to the floor. The King pushed at his shoulder with his slippered foot.
"Do not waste my time."
"You told me I had to confess to you if I...if I ever wanted someone else." The Concubine's voice trailed off into a whisper.
The King's mouth twitched up in a quick smile before he smoothed it back down.
"And?" He put ice into his voice. His Concubine shuddered.
"Your Majesty..."
The King ran a nail guard down the side of the Concubine's face. "You are trying my patience."
His Concubine swallowed. "It was...it was your driver, Your Majesty."
Both of the King's eyebrows shot up and he had to check himself before he leaned closer. Qi? "Explain yourself," he said, his mind racing.
"We...we had dinner and some shots of whiskey." The Concubine forgot himself and started to look up; the King reminded him of his place with a perfunctory kick to the shoulder. The Concubine's head immediately dropped back down to the floor. "Your driver went upstairs and changed into this...well, I don't know what it's called. Not a dress, it had pants but it was all one thing."
"A jumpsuit," said the King, almost absently. Qi had a jumpsuit? Since when?
"Yeah. That. And it was all white satin. Your driver came down wearing it and...it was amazing. It moved all over the place. Like water. It was tighter than what Qi ever wears. And I...uh..."
The King's voice was sharp. "You what , Concubine?"
"I touched your driver. My hand on Qi's hip."
There was a silence. The King stared down at his Concubine. "I see." The King thought this over while his Concubine held his kowtow. "So. You put hands where they were not allowed. Hands where you were not given permission."
"Yes."
"You know there will be consequences for this."
That ripple of silk again as his Concubine's body quivered.
The King stroked the nail guards along his Concubine's jawline as he thought. He sat back in his chair, putting his hands in his lap. "You will tell us, Concubine. You will tell us exactly what it was you wanted to do to our driver. In excruciating detail."
"What? I mean...uh...you want me to do what?" His Concubine quickly added, "Your Majesty."
"I want you to tell me, Concubine. You saw my driver in this white satin jumpsuit. And then what?"
"I don't understand. Your Majesty."
The King smiled. "What did you wish to do to my driver, Concubine? You put your hand to my driver's hip. Where did your hand want to go from there? Tell me."
The Concubine was silent for a moment. "I...I wasn't thinking that clearly. I just...Qi was barefoot and that jumpsuit showed off Qi's body and you...your Majesty knows Qi never wears anything tight. But this was tight in places. Smooth. And uh...I wanted to know. If Qi was that soft under it. That smooth. I wanted to take it off. Slow. I've never thought of Qi that way before. I wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss Qi. I've never..." The Concubine's voice faltered. "I got so hard, so quick. I couldn't..." The Concubine went silent.
The King was already growing hard under his own robes. "And?"
"I took the whiskey bottle and went back to my room without anything else happening. We pretended it didn't happen the next day."
"No, Concubine. That is not enough. I wish to know what you did when you went back to our room."
"I drank the whiskey and went to bed."
"Excuse me?" The King's voice was so cold. Unlike his body. His body was on fire . His scalp crawled with the heat of it. "Are you mocking me?"
"No! No, I'm not...I can't ."
"It is not a request. Did I not make myself clear?"
The Concubine looked up, his amber eyes desperate. "Wu, I can't-"
The King surged out of his chair to stand above his Concubine. "YOU DARE!"
His Concubine's face dropped to the carpet. The King stood above him, chest heaving. He placed one slipper onto his Concubine's silk-covered back and pushed it flat to the floor. "You will never refer to us by that name. Never again. Not in this place. You will obey me, Concubine. If you cannot obey me, I will never allow you back here with me."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," his Concubine cried into the carpet. "I'll do whatever you want."
“Yes. You will .” The King removed his foot and sat back in his chair. “Now. You will tell your King what it is you did when you went back into your bedroom. You will tell your King what you did and what you thought and what you dreamed.” He leaned forward to trail a nail guard against the place where his Concubine’s robe exposed his neck. “If you do not tell your King, then how may your King give you the punishment you deserve?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The King waited. Oh, but he wanted to kiss his Concubine, wanted to bite at his collarbones, dig his teeth into him until he left marks. Not yet. Not yet.
“I...I took the whiskey bottle. I didn’t wait around to see what Qi- what your driver would do. I went in and I closed the door and...I drank the whiskey from the bottle. It made it worse. I don’t know if your driver was trying to flirt with me or not. I...I don’t know. I drank the whiskey and I thought, fuck it, I’ll just go to bed. But I couldn’t settle. I...I tried to think of other things. But I couldn’t.” The Concubine went silent.
The King tapped his nail guards against the arm of his chair. “Did you not remember the explicit instructions your King gave you before he left, Concubine?”
“Yes.” It was muffled.
“What were they?”
“I wasn’t supposed to get myself off until you got back.”
The King said nothing. And waited.
“I’m sorry.” It was whispered.
“Tell your King. How, exactly, did you break your promise to me?”
The Concubine’s shoulders stiffened. “I got myself off.”
“You know that isn’t what your King wishes to hear.”
“I used my hand.”
The King said nothing.
“I...didn’t make a big deal of it or anything. I just did it.”
The King sighed. “You are wasting my time, Concubine. Perhaps I should leave you here for the rest of the evening so that you may think alone on how best to answer your King.”
“No! No. Don’t leave me. I...I drank some more whiskey. Not the whole bottle, but a lot of it. Enough that I felt it the next morning. I was on the bed and...I took my clothes off and I…” The Concubine’s voice quavered.
The King leaned forward in his chair and used his nail guards to tilt the Concubine’s chin up. The Concubine’s face was mottled with fierce color. The nail guards dug in slightly to the soft skin under that stubborn, stubborn jaw.
“No more prevarication. Tell your King what he demands.”
The Concubine whispered, those amber eyes looking into the King’s. “Last summer the kids were at Bolin’s place for a few days. Remember? LoLo and Lin had gone down the coast. I came home from work and you were in the backyard, in the pavilion and it was raining, a thunderstorm. It opened up and poured rain right as I got home and I was soaking wet and you were out there drinking champagne and I came out there and you took my clothes off. Do you remember?”
The King stroked along his Concubine’s face. “I remember.”
“I was so hot, oh spirits, the lightning started and you know what that does to me and I took your clothes off too. Remember?” At the King’s nod he continued. “I just took you right there, just right there against the wall of the pavilion, held you up in my arms and fucked you so hard you screamed, I had to cover your mouth, I thought the neighbors would think I was killing you.”
The King closed his eyes and smiled. “Yes.”
“I was inside you and I had to shift a little so I wouldn’t drop you and when I did I looked past you through to the garage and I saw Qi there. Watching us through the window.”
The King’s eyes opened and one eyebrow arched up.
“I knew Qi was watching and I should have...I don’t know. Stopped. Or said something or...I don’t know. But I didn’t. And Qi kept watching. I could see out of the corner of my eye and I didn’t stop. I didn’t want to.”
The nail guards stroked along the Concubine’s neck, leaving faint pink trails behind them. “Why not?” The Concubine tried to drop his head but the King grasped his chin and held it firmly. “Why not? Why didn’t you stop?”
The Concubine stared into the King’s eyes, and gritted his teeth slightly. “I wanted Qi to see how good I was. How good I could be. What I could do to you.”
“Oh,” the King breathed. “Oh, you bad bad man. And you never told me.”
“No.”
“And you never discussed this with our driver?”
“No! Spirits no! I’m still not even sure if Qi realized I caught Qi watching.”
The King leaned back in his chair, taking the nail guards away. “I see. And so tell me, my beautiful Concubine, what were you fantasizing about when you disobeyed your King and made yourself spend in the King’s own bed?”
The Concubine stared straight into the King’s eyes; so willful. Oh, the King would punish him for this later, punish him until his Concubine wept and begged. But not yet. “I thought of how it would have been if it had been Qi there. In all that white. Wet from the rain. How it would feel to take all those wet clothes off, to hold Qi like I had held you, to fuck Qi until I made Qi scream the way I made you scream. I came hard. Really hard.”
The King moved his foot and pushed the Concubine’s head until he had his face to the floor again. “Oh, Concubine. First you touched the King’s driver. Then you touched yourself. You kept secrets from your King. You fantasized about the King’s driver.” The King sighed. “By all rights I should just tie you to the bed and leave you until morning.”
The Concubine’s head flew up. “Please don’t! Don’t do that! I’ll do whatever you say, I’ll take whatever you give me. Please don’t leave me alone there.”
“Do you deserve it, though? Do you deserve redemption from the King’s own hand? For this? For these transgressions?” The King looked away. “Do you deserve my forgiveness?”
The Concubine dropped his back down. “No.” It was muffled into the carpet.
“No, you don’t,” the King agreed. He sat for a few moments, absently tapping his slippered toe on his Concubine’s shoulder. He removed his foot. “Stand up and remove your robe.”
The Concubine drew himself up gracefully and untied the sash of his robe, letting it drop.
“You will-” The King blinked and then leaned forward. There, low on his Concubine’s torso, just above his groin, was a tattoo. An unexpected tattoo. A tattoo of the Hou-Ting crest, no less; the crest that the King had designed for himself. He’d used his coronation brooch in the forefront, all gold lines with two green gems, with the royal yellow circular background. There it was, his new crest, tattooed in color onto his Concubine’s skin. The King reached out curious fingers and swept his nail guards across the tattoo, eliciting a gasp from his Concubine. “What is this?” he asked, tapping it.
“I belong to you,” said his Concubine, voice tight with emotion. “I got it to show I belong to you.”
“Ah,” said the King, and he leaned close enough to kiss it. His Concubine shuddered. “Oh, your King is very pleased, Concubine. Very pleased, indeed .” He kissed it again, smiling as he got nudged by his Concubine’s growing erection. He was more than pleased. He was delighted , and he’d show that delight later. But not now. “Because I am so pleased, I will allow you to choose if you wish to be tied down or not.”
The Concubine was silent for a moment. “Not tied down.”
“Gagged?”
The Concubine shook his head.
Ah. “You must hold yourself still and be silent, then.” He ran a single nail guard down his Concubine’s erection, and it bobbed eagerly. “If you can’t, I will leave this room and we will be finished for the night. Do you understand me?”
His Concubine swallowed audibly. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
The King stood up. “To the bed, then. Face down.” The Concubine quickly obeyed. He knew what his King wanted. He placed himself onto the bed, arms and legs splayed, his face turned to one side. The King removed his nail guards.
There would be no warming up this night. No play with the various things in the rosewood box, no back and forth, watching his Concubine squirm in pleasure. The King understood that his Concubine needed something different tonight. He took the paddle out and gave it one swing before stripping off the King’s brocade robe. It hindered his swing too much. “Count them off, Concubine. No other sound, mind, or else we are finished. Do you understand me?” The Concubine nodded, his eyes closed. Without a pause the King brought the paddle down with an audible crack, the flesh of his Concubine’s buttocks flattening as the wood made contact.
“One,” his Concubine gasped, and was silent. The King continued, bringing the paddle down with well-aimed precision, his Concubine’s flesh at first pinkening only to bloom an angry scarlet as the blows continued. Soon heat started to shimmer off of his Concubine in waves, the way it always did when his Concubine fought for control over his bending, the flame roaring within his blood. By the end, by the time his Concubine had counted to thirty, he was shaking uncontrollably, covered with sweat, tears leaking out of his closed eyes. But he’d stayed silent, and he’d counted each and every one, like the very good Concubine that he was.
The King put the paddle away and took off his spectacles before laying down next to his Concubine, smoothing back a wayward strand of hair. He was silent, letting his Concubine regain his breath. He waited, patiently, until his Concubine opened his eyes, lashes damp still with tears. “Better?” he asked. “You may speak.”
“Yes,” said his Concubine, although it came out roughly. “Thank you, your Majesty. Thank you.” They were done for the night, the King knew. Other nights, he’d continue to play, his Concubine throwing out little sparks of defiance for them both to enjoy. Other nights they’d use the ropes and the godimiche, the clamps, and maybe he’d sit on his throne and make his Concubine take him deep into his mouth, so deep that he’d come right then and there. But not tonight. Tonight his Concubine had gotten what he needed. So the King leaned forward and kissed his Concubine on the mouth, their own signal for when they were done with this game they so loved to play.
Mako smiled into the kiss. “Ow.”
“Ow yourself.” Wu pulled back far enough to kiss him on the nose and then swung himself off the bed. “Be right back.” He went to the sideboard and filled a glass of water from a pitcher, the ice tinkling as it splashed into the goblet. “Mmmm, here.” He helped Mako raise his head so he could drink.
“Thanks,” Mako said, when he’d finished.
“You want more?”
“I’m okay for now.”
Wu put the goblet down on the night table and crawled back onto the bed, holding his arms out. Mako gingerly made his way across the coverlet and lay his head on Wu’s chest, Wu’s fingers immediately going to stroke his hair. “You want to talk about it?”
“No,” Mako said, his voice muffled into Wu’s ribcage.
“Mako…”
“No.”
“Not talking about it won’t help the situation.”
“Sure it will.”
Wu laughed, and Mako’s head bobbed on his chest. “So why haven’t I gotten to see this amazing white jumpsuit?”
“I don’t know.”
“Probably because I haven’t given Qi any whiskey.”
“Seriously, I don’t want to talk about this tonight.” Mako raised his head and glared.
“Okay, okay. Fine, have it your way.” Wu stuck his tongue out. “Can we talk about the tattoo instead?” He grinned.
“You like that, hmm?”
“Mako. My dearest, dearest man. Love of my life. The person I wish by my side, now and forever. I do not just like the tattoo; I love the tattoo. In fact, I can tell you, I am already having all sorts of deliciously filthy thoughts about what I could do with that tattoo.”
“Oh really?”
Wu gestured down to his growing erection. “As you can see.”
“I would do something about that but you kind of beat me stupid.”
“Keep your hands to yourself next time, then.”
Mako grunted and then slid carefully off of Wu to lay flat onto the bed again. “How am I supposed to sit at my desk tomorrow?”
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Nothing. Not a damn thing.”
“That’s what I thought,” Wu said, and flicked the gentlest fingernail across a welt. Mako hissed. Wu swung off the bed to dig into the rosewood box, pulling out a jar of ointment. “Big baby,” he said, and gently started to rub it in. “Better?”
“Mmmmhmmmm.” Silence for a time, as the stripes were soothed and cooled. “Wu?”
“Yes?”
“You know I love you, right?”
Wu stopped rubbing for a moment. “Yes. I know.” He started again.
“I’m sorry.”
“No more sorries. That’s what this is for.”
Mako turned his head back to look at him, his brows furrowed close together, his teeth worrying at his lip. “You sure? Because my track record with fucking this kind of thing up is not good.”
Wu frowned as he put the salve on the night table. The entire point of these nights was to allow Mako to get rid of his anxiety, not add to it. He slid back to face his husband. “Come now, Mako. This is me you are talking to. Besides, that’s why we do this. So that you can forgive yourself and let it go, whatever it is. This time isn’t any different than any of the other times.”
“Except it is. You know why.” Mako turned his face away.
Wu lay there for a moment before reaching for the oil that was always left on the night tables whenever he reserved these rooms, smearing it all over his slightly flagging erection, his eyes half-lidding in pleasure as he gave himself a few extra pumps with his hand. “Roll over,” he said.
“Wait...what?”
“Do it,” the King commanded, and Mako turned over without thinking, letting out with a gasp of pain as his welted flesh hit the silk of the coverlet. “Good,” Wu said, and nudged Mako’s feet until he understood what Wu wanted and moved his legs apart of his own accord.
“Dammit, Wu! It hurts.”
“I know,” Wu said, and he grabbed a pillow, sliding it under Mako’s hips, ignoring his involuntary whimper of pain. He positioned himself at Mako’s entrance and pushed himself in, hard, as Mako nearly came up off of the bed, unprepared for the suddenness of it.
“WU!”
He stared down at his husband and withdrew himself almost all the way. “I’m not angry.” He shoved himself in, ignoring the almost painful tightness that surrounded him as well as Mako’s gasp. “I don’t care what you did.” He withdrew again, this time to Mako’s moan.
“It doesn’t matter what you do.” He thrust himself in again, holding himself steady as Mako’s hips snapped up. Out again.
“Because I love you, more than anyone else in the world.” In again, and this time Mako begged him please please but he waited before he pulled out again, staring into his husband’s eyes.
“I will never ever leave you, not for any reason. Do you understand me? Never .” And then he was in again, this time for good. He grabbed at Mako’s hips to steady himself as he pistoned himself in, deep and fast. It wasn’t sensual lovemaking, no, this was fucking , because Wu knew exactly what was needed and he fucked it right out of Mako; all of the guilt, all of the shame, all of the confusion, harder and harder, fast and brutal. Mako’s hands were digging into the coverlet and the ends of his hair, disordered and damp with sweat slapped at his cheeks as he thrashed his head to and fro, and Wu fucked him on and on, through Mako’s sudden tears, through his own nearly unbearable desire, keeping up the pace until Mako could no longer stop himself from grabbing at his own erection, the heat rising up again from his skin, and Wu kept slamming into him until he came so hard that he lost his balance and sprawled down gracelessly to fall half over Mako’s thigh and onto his groin, catching the last spurt from Mako’s own shouted orgasm across his chin.
Wu closed his eyes for a moment and tried to catch up with his own panting breath, wiping at his chin, listening to Mako gulp in his own air. He put a hand to Mako’s chest. “Shhh,” he murmured into Mako’s skin. “Shhh, now.” He purposely slowed his own breathing in the hopes that Mako would slow his own down as well. They lay there for a few moments, both of them trying to calm down.
Wu finally opened his eyes to find that he was face to face with the tattoo. He scooched just a little closer to stare at it. “This is a very well done tattoo,” he said, and gave it a another lingering kiss of appreciation.
Mako huffed a little laugh and then reached down with strong arms to pull Wu up and into his chest, kissing the top of Wu’s own disordered curls. “I asked Yumi, she said the artist was the best in Republic City.”
Wu smiled and kissed his chest. “I approve. Very very sexy.”
“Good,” said Mako. “I think you killed me. Just so you know.”
“All in a day’s work,” Wu said, with an airy little flick of his hand, and Mako nuzzled into his neck.
“We should take a shower, I guess.”
“I don’t think I can walk at the moment. Give it a minute.”
Mako shifted himself off of his back and onto his side, peremptorily adjusting Wu until he had him spooned into his arms. “Thank you,” he whispered, and Wu closed his eyes and smiled.
“Better?”
“You always make it better,” Mako replied, and his arms tightened around his husband. “Always.”
Chapter 8: Feel Her Body Rise
Summary:
Republic City
Bolin and Opal"Fields of Gold," by Sting.
Chapter Text
"Opal, honey. Honey. The alarm's ringing."
She snuggled back into pillow, turning away from him. "Mmmmmm."
His large hand slid across her hip as he reached for the alarm, fumbling with it as it squawked indignantly, before he managed to find the right combination of jiggling and smacking that made it stop. "We have to get up." His mouth was saying the words, but his body was still firmly planted into the bed.
"Mmmmmhmmmm." She wriggled herself backwards until she bumped into his chest. Coming up on fifteen years she'd been with him, and the sheer bulk of him never stopped surprising her. His hand curled around her hipbone, easily covering it. Gently, always so gently. She waited; his nose buried itself into the nape of her neck and she smiled without opening her eyes.
"Opal," he cajoled, nuzzling her, "It's time to get up."
"Nuh-huh." She flipped herself over and pushed her face into him. "Ten more minutes."
"You always say that," he murmured into her hair, "And then we end up falling asleep again and I have to run to get San to school."
"School-schmool," was all she had to say about that. "Mmmmmm, you are so toasty."
"Opal..."
"Ten more minutes."
His chest started to rumble with sleepy laughter. "I have to be at the studio."
"What's better, me or the studio?" She snuggled in more.
"You know it's you, Easy-Breezy." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight. "Never anybody but you. You're my best girl. Even if you won't get out of bed in the mornings."
Now it was her turn to laugh, poking at his calves with her bare toes. "Don't make me do it. Let's stay in bed all day. No one will even miss us."
He was grinning at her. "And who will feed our lovely children breakfast?"
She widened her eyes in faux-surprise. "Children? What children?"
"Three of them? Pretty cute, if I do say so myself."
"Nope. Sorry. Doesn't ring a bell. Must be with your other wife."
"Yeah! My other wife! You know...ah...Bopal."
Now she was laughing, covering her mouth with her hand to keep from waking the children. As it was she was expecting Bu to come in at any given second. "Bopal? Bopal?"
"Hey, don't make fun of other people's names, that's rude. You'll hurt her feelings." He was laughing as well by now, the slight scratching around his eyes coming into play. Oh, but she loved all of his laugh lines. She leaned in to kiss him, meaning to haul herself out of bed as soon as she broke away but the kiss was sweet and hot, full of mirth and there was his hand, firmly cupping her ass. She pressed herself into him and wrapped her own hand around his waist, running her foot up his leg. "I don't think this counts as us getting up," he said around her kiss, but she noted that he wasn't trying to pull away, either.
"Don't you want to go to work with a smile?" she asked, and his eyes lit up.
"We have to be quick, the last time I brought San late that headmistress came out to give it to me, she's scary." He started kissing along the column of her neck, his hands busy working to tug her panties down.
"Sic Aunt Lin on her. She's terrified of her." Opal giggled and then gasped as one large finger brushed against her clit. "Hey, bring that back there, mister."
"Yeah okay, let me get my shorts off," he started flailing, thrashing his thighs. "Come on, help me out over here."
She hooked her thumbs into his waistband and started to pull. "Quit moving, you're making this harder."
"Actually, Opal, I think you're the one making things harder." He looked very proud of himself as she dropped her forehead to his chest, giggling. "Get it, you - oh crap! We didn't lock the door!"
She flipped herself over, leaving his shorts around his knees, to narrow her eyes and move her hand. With a gust of wind and an audible snick the lock turned. "There."
"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" He was grinning at her as she flipped back towards him.
"Tell me later, get those shorts off, soldier!" she barked, and shimmied out of her own panties. Bolin tossed his own shorts off the bed and then cracked his knuckles before waggling them at her.
"All ten of them, reporting for duty!"
Her giggles exploded out of her and she clapped her hand over her mouth again. "Stop," she begged, but he was now waggling those thick eyebrows as well as his fingers, and he threw the covers over their heads and yanked her down, grabbing at her ass again.
"Covert operations," he whispered at her. "Can't let the enemy hear us." She grabbed at his prick and he hissed and then made a siren noise, "Bwee-ah! Bwee-ah! Red alert!" His hands covered her nipples and started to twiddle them. "Up telescope!"
"I think you mean periscope," she corrected, gasping a little as his tugging set her on fire.
"Whatever," he said, and then his mouth followed his fingers, suckling and nibbling at her the way she loved. Her hips arched up and she ground into him, delighted at how hard he was. He grunted and sent a hand down to push her thighs apart as she tugged at his hair, pulling him up so she could kiss him again. "Time to fire those ice torpedoes," he gasped out. "You ready?"
She was ready, so ready, wet and panting. "Fire at will!" She felt rather than saw his grin and as he positioned himself she grabbed him and guided him in, arching up again. "Oh, Bo, yes, like that, oh, so good." She wrapped her legs around his waist so that he'd push up against her clit and hooked her arms around his massive shoulders, holding on as he braced himself above her, their breathing amplified under the heavy embrace of their blankets.
"Hang on," he whispered into her ear, and she knew he meant it, as he started to move quickly inside of her, and her head thrashed back and forth across the bed. She loved it slow with him; she loved spending hours as he was tender to her, always so attentive, making her blossom with desire. But oh spirits, she loved this too, when he just fucked her as hard and fast as they could both take it, and she could feel her orgasm flying towards her, grunting helplessly with each hard thrust. "Shh, Opie, shh," he said, and she tried to quiet herself but she was quickly losing control as she started to tense up. "Fuck," she moaned, and he hissed in response.
"Mommy? Are you okay?" The voice came from the other side of the locked door as the knob rattled.
Her eyes flew open. "Shit!" She untangled one of her arms and yanked the covers down, freeing their heads.
"Mommy's okay, buddy, she just uh...well, she stubbed her toe. We'll uh," he kept slamming into her, her breasts frantically juddering and how the man could do that and talk at the same time she had no idea, because coherent speech had already left her, "be down in a second, okay? You go on downstairs, okay, Bu?"
"Okay, Daddy! Hey Daddy?"
"Uh huh?" He rested his forehead on hers, and damned if her orgasm wasn't coming back. "Shhh," he said into her ear; he could feel how close she was, she was sure. Her legs started to tighten around his waist and she couldn't stop the arch of her hips that positioned her right on top of his pubic bone, her remaining hand digging into his shoulder.
"Good morning," Bu chirruped, and she heard the faint sound of his bare feet running back down the hall.
"Coast is clear," he said, and she opened her eyes to see, in the dim light through the curtains, that his eyes were closed in concentration. "Come on now, Opie." His eyes flew open as she started to shake and he quickly put his mouth over hers, muffling her cries as she came, hard, digging her heels into the meat of his ass. He kept going, sweat beading up, and she let out with a breathy little scream as he grunted, froze and came inside of her, her second orgasm surprising her with its intensity. He dropped on top of her for just a second before rolling to his side, still inside of her, taking her with him to wrap her up in his arms. They stared at each other for a long moment before she felt her mouth curve up into a toothy grin.
"Damn, soldier," she said, and laughed as he winked at her.
"At your service, Madame," he replied, and then grinned back at her. They lay there for a minute, smiling at each other, before he leaned close to kiss her. "I love you, Opal Beifong."
"I love you, too."
His eyes started to droop shut; she shook him just slightly. "Oh no you don't, big boy. You've got things to do this morning, no sleeping now."
"Mmm-hmm," he answered, and carefully pulled out of her. She felt the little pang of loss she always felt when he withdrew; having him inside of her always felt so right, so true. "Right. I'm up." His eyes closed and she shook him harder.
"Come on, go get in the shower. Make it a cold one. I'll go make some strong tea, give the kids their breakfast."
He peered at her blearily. "You sure? I'm on breakfast duty this morning."
She gave his ass a squeeze. "I think you've fulfilled all your duties this morning, soldier." He laughed a little, cuffing himself on the head to try and wake himself up. "I'll take a shower once you're done."
"I better make it a cold shower or else I'm not going to be good for anything." He lay there for another moment before propelling himself off the bed, stretching and yawning. He scratched his ass idly as he stumbled into the bathroom, snorting a little. "You need to pee first?"
"Yeah, I'm coming."
"You sure did," his smug voice floated out of the bathroom. She laughed and then hauled herself up, grabbing at her robe.
Chapter 9: You're Windy And Wild
Summary:
Gonap Village, near the Northern Air Temple
Baatar and Ikki"Bang A Gong," by Power Station (with due respect to T. Rex).
Chapter Text
"Not that it's surprising you'd give your own village first priority," the old man intoned querulously, his mouth pinched up. His son shot Baatar an apologetic look.
"Da, the Temple's not trying to cheat us."
"Hmph." The old man was unconvinced. Baatar put it down to age; the Headman of Gonap Village had to be in his eighties, at least. He was practically deaf, too, they'd been shouting all morning. His son clearly wanted to override him but just as clearly was holding back, deferential as well as patient. At this rate they'd be here for another week without getting anything accomplished. He tried not to let his own impatience show. Not long after they'd arrived they'd been informed by the local weather granny that an early seasonal windstorm was headed their way and while Blue and Ikki might be able to power through to get them to the next village there was no sense in risking it. Which meant they'd actually be stuck here another few days even if the old man was willing to negotiate. The villagers were welcoming and would gladly put them up, mountain hospitality being what it was, that wasn't the problem. It's just that this was their fifth village in two weeks and he was tired and missed his brother and was seriously regretting his decision to leave Goba behind.
Not to mention the headman's grandson had been trying to flirt with Ikki from the moment they'd landed and slid off of Blue. He wasn't even subtle about it. Ikki hadn't taken the bait or anything; oh, she'd charmed the boots off of him in three seconds flat, that went without saying. She did that to everyone. Still. What was he, invisible? He was pretty sure punting the man's ass into next week wouldn't help matters any, but he was really fucking tempted.
"Now, why would we cheat you?" Ikki leaned forward and put her hand gently atop the old man's hand, giving him her best smile. "That's not the airbender way, Headman."
"He doesn't look like an airbender to me." A sour grimace was sent his way.
"I'm afraid we don't have very many airbenders yet," Ikki replied. "And one of them is only four years old, we tend to leave him out of negotiations. He can be bought for the price of a moonpeach or two." She winked at the Headman's daughter-in-law, who smiled back at her.
"Is he yours, Master Ikki?"
"He was brought to us by his family when his bending first showed itself." Not entirely true, but close enough. It sounded better than saying they'd paid for him, anyhow. "And by the way, I'd be grateful if you spread the word that any airbenders that wish to come are always welcome. Age isn't important."
"Bunch of sexless hermits," the old man groused, yanking his hand away from Ikki's. He ought to dropkick the old coot off the side of a mountain.
"Some of the airbenders were celibate due to choice or their nature, true," Ikki replied calmly, the smile never leaving her face. "But obviously not all."
"Never mind him, Ikki," smirked the grandson, getting real fucking familiar. "I'm guessing you're one of the other kind of airbenders, hmm?" That's it. He was going to kill him. His fists started to clench up but the lightest breeze danced across his face. Ikki hadn't moved, but she didn't need to; he knew it was her. She didn't even look at him, just let it caress his cheek as she ignored the grandson, focusing on the Headman.
"I'm tired of this conversation," he whined, and snapped his fingers. His grandson immediately stood and give him a hand up from his overstuffed cushion on the floor at the head of the low table. His mother nodded once at him and he escorted the old man out of the room. The woman sighed.
"My apologies. He'll nap now, and won't be back down the rest of the day."
Her husband nodded. "I'm sorry you had to sit through all of that." He shook his head. "It's...well. He's old and he won't step down and it's complicated."
Ikki's smile reached her eyes. "Families are often complicated like that." Both of them returned her smile and the man leaned forward to include him in the conversation.
"I appreciate your patience. Now, if you'll give us a moment we'll get some tea and get down to the business of actually discussing this."
The man went to fetch them tea and some sweetened barley cakes while his wife opened up one of the windows and let some fresh air in. She chatted with Ikki about some vegetarian village specialty; by the time he tuned back in she was promising to write down the recipe for Ikki and her husband had returned with both tea and their son.
They approached it the same way they'd approached all of the other villages; he sat back to let Ikki's charisma come into play, let her humor and sparkle draw them in and relax them before he gradually stepped in to lay down their terms and start the numbers negotiations while she kept the mood friendly. It wasn't a good cop/bad cop thing so much as it was a balance of charm and sense. He sincerely doubted that any of these people took Ikki too seriously, despite her mastery tattoos; she was young and attractive, smiled a great deal, infused cheer into the tensest of situations. They were fools. Ikki was smart; more than that, she was canny. She could read a room like nobody's business, too, a skill he was severely lacking. They'd worked out a system where she nudged him in the right direction, giving him touches of air on certain body parts to let him know how to proceed. A cool touch of wind on his right hand, for example, told him to push a little harder; the same touch on his left hand told him to back off and let her step in for a bit. She was skilled enough that she could target him directly, not letting anyone else feel those subtle little puffs. The breeze across his face was her way of telling him to keep his cool.
At her nod he unrolled the map of the area that Huan had drawn for them, the woman helping him secure the corners. Three more of the villagers joined them, and over the next couple of hours he traced out the other trade routes they'd already secured, discussing what goods they could and could not ferry, the limitations of the seasons and such. At one point one of the men slipped out to fetch dinner for them and they'd cleared the table and set it for a meal. He took a quick jaunt out to the communal outhouse, squinting up at the darkening sky. The weather granny was right, a storm was rolling in. Damn it anyhow.
By the time he got back Grandson had planted himself next to Ikki, grinning over at him with a bit of a challenge. Cocky motherfucker. He mentally counted to ten and reminded himself that Ikki was her own woman and could handle herself. He sat down next to the Headman's daughter-in-law and tried to pretend like pleasant small talk was something that came naturally to him. He wasn't sure how successful he was, but she didn't slap him or anything, so he guessed it was good enough.
Grandson was bleating on about his fascinating career as a barley farmer; Ikki was making faint faux-interested noises in return. He'd like to cram some barley up somewhere where he'd never find it again. The man leaned in close, smirking at her. "So let me tell you about my crop yield, huh?" The older woman sitting to Ikki's other side rolled her eyes and snorted.
"You really ought to work on those pickup lines, boy."
Ikki exchanged a grin with her and then complimented the headman's son on his dish of curried paneer, smoothly redirecting the conversation. He never could tell if this sort of thing bothered her or not. It wasn't like it was the first time it had happened; she tended to draw a crowd of admirers wherever she went. She just carried on, however, while he ate dumplings, politely chitchatted, and thought of ways he could plant his fist into Grandson's face and not blow the negotiations.
He barely registered the first little tendril that brushed along his knee it was so faint, hardly even rippling his trousers. He blinked and glanced at Ikki; she was asking the woman next to her about herbal soap making, of all things. He went back to his dumplings and managed another bite before a slightly firmer gust set the brocaded hem of his chupa fluttering under the table. That was no accident or stray breeze; she was doing that, for sure. She continued her discussion, asking about using camel yak butter to make the soap softer, not paying the least bit of attention to him.
The next touch insinuated itself along his thigh; a slow drag that had him sitting up and squirming just a bit. He was glad he at least had his trousers as a barrier between his skin and those teasing little touches. The Headman's son chose that moment to ask him about the lemons they'd brought as a gift; he pushed up his glasses and was giving a brief and simplified explanation of his hydroponics experiment when he felt a distinct and rather firm pressure on his balls. He let out with a choked gasp of surprise; the man mistook it for a stray piece of dumpling and slammed him several times across his shoulder blades trying to helpfully dislodge it. Ikki stared at him, all wide-eyed innocence across the table.
"Are you okay, Baatar?" The pressure was back, tapering into a caress. Oh, damn her. "Maybe you should drink something."
"Yes, let me get you some more beer," the man agreed, refilling his glass.
"Can't have the guests choking on your dumplings," his wife said, and her husband made a face at her. "You all right now?"
He managed a nod as his cock stiffened, the air she was bending constricting around it through the fabric. "Yes, fine. Sorry about that." He met Ikki's gaze and raised one of his eyebrows very slowly. She fluttered her eyelashes as the grip on his cock tightened and he took a deep breath in through his nose, trying to regain some semblance of control. Oh, she was going to pay for this later. Suddenly she closed her eyes and the pressure eased off a bit as she tilted her head slightly.
"Storm's here," she announced, opening her eyes, and three seconds later a blast of wind hit hard enough to rattle the wooden shutters, right as he was hit with a squeeze of air so tight that his cock actually lurched with it. She wiped at her mouth and fingers with her napkin. "Thank you so much for the delicious dinner. I hate to eat and run, but if you'd please excuse me I should really go and check on my air bison."
"Of course," the headman's son said. "I hope the harvest barn will do for her."
Ikki smiled. "It's a bit of a squeeze," another squeeze to him, she was killing him over here, "but she'll be fine. Generally speaking weather doesn't really bother her."
"Well, I'll show your man here to the room we've put aside for you." He nodded at Baatar, who gave him a bit of a forced smile back. Good thing these chupas were as baggy as they were. If she kept this up he would have a hard time walking.
Grandson stood up to smile at Ikki. "It's getting fierce out there. I should give you an escort, wouldn't want the wind to take you away with it." They all stared at him, including Ikki. His mother reached over and whacked him one upside his knee.
"Fool! She's an airbending master! Why would she need your help getting through a windstorm?"
"Uh..."
The headman's son led him up the stairs to the fourth floor, into a small but brightly furnished room, handing over one of the lamps he was carrying. "Plenty of extra blankets and such in the chest there. Chamber pot's under the bed and there's water on the table. Please make sure to find us if you need anything, we're just down the hall." He had raised his voice to be heard over the insistent howl from the storm, trying to batter its way through shuttered windows. "And thanks once again for the lemons. We'll see you in the morning." A flash of a grin; Baatar bowed and got a bow in return before the man closed the door behind him. He put the lamp down on the table and immediately went to adjust his trousers, still half hard. She'd be the death of him one of these days, he swore.
He'd pulled several woolen blankets out of the chest and was smoothing them onto the bed when Ikki opened the door, thanking their host before shutting it behind her. "Blue all settled?"
"Mmmhmm." Another bang of the shutters. "It's one hell of a storm. I'm glad for the bed, I don't think even Blue would enjoy it out there tonight." She pressed herself up against him and brushed her hand down through the layers of his clothes, giving him a squeeze that way. "You should take these off."
"I'll freeze. They don't have any heat in these rooms. I'm not an airbender, I can't warm myself up."
"I can warm you up," she replied, and winked, tucking her arms around his waist.
"That was a nasty little game you were playing down there," he said, leaning his head far enough back to take his glasses off, setting them carefully down on the table.
"You liked it." She was laughing.
"Did I, now?" He cupped her ass and gave her a swat. "You think it's that easy for a man to just get up from the floor when he's hard and have no one notice?"
"See, this is what diversions are for." She hooked a leg around his so she could get closer. "You know. Knock over a glass of water. Point and scream that you saw a spider wasp. Let out a really noxious fart that you blame on someone else. You're a smart man, you could have thought of something."
"You've done all of those, haven't you?" He couldn't help but smile at her.
"It might have happened." She waggled her eyebrows at him and he kissed her then, pulling her closer. "Come on, take them off, you can get dressed again when I'm done with you."
"When you're done with me, hmm?" She was unbuttoning his shirt and he undid the first toggle of her wingsuit. "Just use me and throw me away." Her skin was so warm, he was aching to fold himself around her and soak it in. You could take the boy out of the South but not the South out of the boy; he dreamed, sometimes, of Zaofu's temperate weather.
"Sure, I need to go and listen to a guy talk about his crop yield." Her tone was so disgusted that he laughed in spite of himself. "What an ass. No wonder he's single." She managed to untie his chupa and tugged it down over his hips, quickly finishing with his shirt and pushing it open to expose his chest to the cold air. He sucked in a breath through his teeth with the bite of it; she murmured, "Sorry," and took his hands away from her wingsuit. "Just get under the covers before you freeze."
With her help he quickly shucked off the rest of his clothes, taking the time to fold them neatly, despite his shivering. He left his socks on, though; thick woolen ones that Mauja had knitted for him and given him before they left. They weren't sexy, no, but they were warm. He hauled up the blankets and slid inside, wincing at the iciness of the bedclothes. She quickly wriggled out of the confines of her wingsuit, launching herself into bed, wrapping her arms around him. "Oooh, you are cold. Let me do something about that."
"I wish you would." She pushed at him until he rolled over onto his back and she lay atop him, positioning herself as he pulled the covers back up. She was a warm, breathing, solid weight on him and his cock, which had shriveled up in the chill of the unheated room, started to stir, just a little. "Fuck, it's cold. Why am I here, again?" He'd meant it as a joke, but she was staring down at him, her gray eyes so close to his own that he was nearly cross-eyed trying to gaze back at her.
"So I can love you," she said, and for once she was perfectly serious. "So your brother can love you. So Goba can love you. So you can help people."
He shook his head. "I'm not a hero, Ikki. Don't make me out to be one."
She only smiled, however. "So let me ask you a question. Where would you put the tank if you were going to set up indoor plumbing here?"
He frowned, his mind starting to focus in on the problem. "Well, I haven't had a chance to survey the village properly, but as we were flying in on Blue I saw a spot that..." he trailed off to sigh at her. "You did that on purpose."
She kissed him. "I am wise like the ancients."
"You're a pain in my ass, is what you are." His hands were roaming along her back, big and just slightly calloused.
"To be fair, I've never actually fucked you in the ass." Her head tilted just slightly as he hissed out a little involuntary breath, his cock twitching at the very idea. "Huh. Well, now. Somebody liked that, didn't they? We'll come back to that later."
"Ikki..." his tone was a warning, but when had she ever heeded anyone's warnings? She lay herself flat down on him to whisper into his ear.
"That'd be fun, wouldn't it?" She shifted and her breasts trailed along his chest. "We're young. We should have lots of fun."
"I'm not really all that young." He tried to figure out if he could get a nipple into his mouth without exposing himself.
"Big baby, that's what you are." The blankets slid down as she slid upwards and he yelped and dragged them back up again as she giggled. "See what I mean?"
"I am telling you, woman, that it's fucking cold in this room. The only part of me that's warm are my feet."
"Oh, I think we can change that, don't you?" She reached behind her, groping until she found him, giving an experimental tug. "Hmmm. That's a problem."
"What's a problem? Where are you...?" He cut off as she quickly slithered her way down the length of him, disappearing under the blankets. He had to grab on to them to keep them from going along with her; he was trying to pull them back up while exposing himself as little as possible when she took him into her mouth. "Ikki!"
She popped him out of her mouth long enough to say, "Just trying to keep you warm," before putting him right back in again and he wasn't sure whether he should laugh or groan so he did both. She laughed as well, he felt the vibrations of it as he looked up to the ceiling, a brightly colored smear without his lenses. If he let go of the blankets he had firmly clutched at his chin they'd never stay in place and he was sure she knew that. This was the woman who had asked his brother to make them a set of handcuffs, after all. She enjoyed teasing him. One of her wicked hands tugged at his sack and he tensed up and thrust into her mouth before closing his eyes, smiling. The wind was screaming defiance outside and he was starting to heat up a little and she was alternating the tugging with a little rough massage, something that she knew damn well undid him. She'd figured that his balls were his weak spot pretty much from the start. Her other hand was wrapped around his shaft, giving her mouth a bit of an assist.
There were times when his brain couldn't help but take a rational step back; he'd assess his situation dispassionately, mentally filing away all external stimuli and his reactions to it. He was thirty-four years old, laying in a freezing cold room in a village so small and rural it wasn't even on most maps, wearing nothing but a pair of woolen socks, clutching at several blankets in order to stay warm, his dick in the mouth of one of the scant handful of airbending masters alive. This was his life; Baatar Beifong, favored eldest son, former heir to his family's name, mechanical genius, raised in wealth and privilege, one of the greatest villains in recent history. He was here. This was not a story. She was here with him and it was real. He started to shake and it was at that point that Ikki came sliding back up his body, her head forcing its way through the blanketed barrier at his chin.
"Don't cry," she said, working her hand through to cup his chin. "Please don't cry."
"I'm not," he replied, but a tear that had made its way down his temple dripped into his ear, giving the lie to his words. "I'm not...I'm not sad, I swear I'm not."
"You sure?" she asked, and he smiled at her.
"I'm sure. Sometimes the tears just come on their own."
"Too many years without them," she said, and he was struck, once again, at how very wise she was.
"Please," he asked, or possibly begged, and she knew what he wanted. She moved herself into position and after a moment of fumbling managed to slide herself on to the tip of him and he took it from there, pushing slowly into her as she used her knees to push down. He was a man of science; of logic, of numbers, straight lines and precision but he swore that every single time he settled himself inside of her he understood why some people woke in the morning to praise the sun for shining. Was this how it was going to be, always? He'd figured that it was a first time sex thing, maybe a second or third, but it wasn't like that. Sex with her made him feel like going to his knees, grateful for everything. He wanted to tell her but had no idea how to convey his devotion without sounding like an idiot, so he closed his eyes and tried, for once in his fucked up life, to stop thinking and just enjoy how it felt to be inside a woman whom he loved and who loved him, no strings attached, in return.
She lay flat atop him, pressed skin to skin, their movements slow and deep. Her eyes closed and she breathed out a sigh, the rug covering the wall behind them swaying and bumping in response. He loved this about her, loved how her passion manifested itself in the very air she breathed. He had never once been afraid of her, never intimidated, never worried that she'd strike out or punish. The heat inside of her was incredible; wet and intense, and while the air was just as cold as it had been a half hour ago he no longer cared. He let go of the blankets, stretching out fingers that were aching just a bit with tightness of his grip. She opened her eyes then and he smirked at her as he pushed her up, her legs straddling his hips. "Do it," he encouraged, and she threw her head back and ground down onto him, hard. "Yes," he hissed, and raised his hips with a sharp jerk as she cried out. He reached around to grab her ass and slid her up his dick before dropping her again, grinning as they both gasped at it.
"Thought you were cold," she laughed, color flushing across her cheeks and collarbone. "Or is it just that you're willing to risk frostbite for a good orgasm?"
"Give me a good orgasm and I'll let you know," he said, flicking up an eyebrow and she raised herself up and pushed herself down again.
"I can do that," she replied, and braced her hands on his chest as she fucked herself onto him, her grin mischievous. She was done with being slow and he was happy to help things along, powering into her as she clutched at him. "Scoot up, scoot up," she insisted, pushing at him with her hands and knees until he figured out what she wanted, sitting himself up with his back against the rug on the wall. She used the angle to clamp her legs around his waist and dug her fingers into his hair, as his hands dug into the meat of her ass. "Come on," she moaned into his ear and that was it, he pistoned into her as she matched him thrust for thrust, bringing up as much wind as there was outside, he swore. The rug at his back started to burn him as he thrashed against it and that just made him hotter; a dim part of his mind registered that he was muttering the word fuck over and over again, putting actions to words. "Don't stop," she gasped but he had no intention of that, no fucking intention of that at all, but then realized he was going to come before she was and he tried to slow down a little but she yanked on his hair and slammed herself into him so hard that he wasn't sure if it was pain or pleasure he was feeling and then he was coming into her, fingers tightening enough to leave little bruises on her. He grunted as he spasmed, unable to move under his own power.
"I want you to come," he gritted out, and she nodded into him, taking one of her hands out of his hair and quickly moving it down to rub at her clit, still impaled on him.
"Do it," she implored, and he raised one hand and brought it down with a resounding smack on her ass; she jolted and moaned, "Again, again," her fingers furiously moving. He smacked her twice more and then she stiffened, holding her breath as he grabbed her, her back arching as she cried out and shook around his still imprisoned cock.
"There, there it is," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her as she remembered to breathe again. She lay her head on his chest and blew out a sigh. They sat there for a moment, the both of them clutching at each other, their breathing still labored, until he realized that despite the exercise, he was still colder than a camel yak's balls in a snowstorm. "Under the covers," he blurted out as he scooted himself back down into the bed, wincing at the rug burn on his shoulders. She made an awkward little upwards lurch to free herself from him and crawled under as well, helping to settle the blankets back to where they should be.
"Better?" She wrapped herself around him.
"I'm still fucking cold."
She snickered. "Big baby, just like I said." She started to snuggle into him but he shoved the covers down, hopping out of bed, groping shortsightedly at his pack. He fished out a pair of soft, knitted long underwear, yanking them on, followed by the matching top. He owed Mauja big time. He dashed across the room to throw himself back into the bed, pulling the covers back up to his chin, Ikki chuckling the entire while. "Now are you better?"
"Yep." He gathered her close and patted her head. "You should go to sleep. After all, you have a lot to learn about the scintillating subject of barley farming, best to do it on a good night's rest."
"Ha ha ha, asshole," she said, rapping him lightly on his chest. She was grinning, though. "Only you would do what we just did with your socks on."
"I see no point in having cold feet when I can avoid it," he replied, and yawned, risking an exposed arm to extinguish the lamp. "Someday you'll appreciate how practical I am."
"I already do, silly man," she said, and he smiled as her cheek rested against his chest.
Chapter 10: Sweet The Sting
Summary:
Republic City
Mako and Qi"Sweet the Sting" by Tori Amos
Chapter Text
I finally chased Jiahao out of the dojo tonight. I usually cut the guy a break since he works his ass off but it was late and I still needed to clean up before I could lock up and head home. Yumi’s Da has been doing poorly and her sister called her up and told her to get down there before it was too late. She’d canceled her regular classes but I’d told her I could keep the place open for a few hours a day if some of her more advanced students wanted the space to train on their own. Felt like it was the least I could do, she’s broken up about the whole thing, although being Yumi she doesn’t really let it show. I know her pretty well by now, though. She was going to take the train but Wu wouldn’t hear of it. He sent her down in his airship, Sitiak in tow to see if he could help any. I’m hoping her Da pulls through but it doesn’t sound very good.
Before I left the house this afternoon I’d told LoLo not to expect me home for dinner. I figured I could dash out and get myself something but we’d gotten slammed with one of those fierce summer storms that come up out of nowhere, the kind that like to make a lot of trouble before they head on out to sea. This one came complete with some pretty impressive thunder booming through the now silent building. I was thinking I’d ride the storm out a bit before I headed home, maybe scrounge around Yumi’s cupboards, see what I could find. My car’s got a roof you can put up but it was never meant for a downpour like this one. May as well swim home, if it came to that.
I’d just finished wiping down the mats when there was a pounding at the door. I was guessing it was probably Jiahao, forgetting something, but it was Mako, soaked as anything, hunching his body over a bag in his hands, trying to keep it from getting wet.
“Shit,” I said. “Come on in.” I moved out of his way while he dripped all over the entry mat. “Let me get you a towel or something.”
“Yeah, I’m past a towel,” he said, handing me over the bag. “I think the food’s still hot, though.”
“Go get those wet things off, I’ll deal with this. How’d you know I was here?”
He kicked off his shoes, grimacing at the squelch they made as they hit the floor. “LoLo called and left a message for me at the station.” He scoffed. “I don’t think he trusted you’d get something hot to eat.”
I just grunted at that. As far as LoLo is concerned, the world would starve if he personally wasn’t feeding it. Although he wasn’t wrong about tonight.
“Everyone gone?” He eyed the door to the locker room, all the way across the dojo.
“Yeah, I’m the only one left, I was just finishing tidying up.” I peeked into the bag. Chin’s, of course. My stomach let me know that wanted some of what I was smelling and it wanted it now.
“Okay,” he said, and started stripping off his clothes. At my look he shrugged. “You really want to have to mop up behind me?”
“Fair point.” I left him to it and took out one of the boxes, sniffing at it. Komodo chicken, so that one was his. Mine was the spicy bean curd and I took a seat on the floor mat and dug in. Mako bundled his clothes under one arm and jogged his way around the perimeter of the room, dressed in nothing but his damp undershorts. Fuck me but the man has a nice body. I tried to focus on my food but I’m telling you, it was no easy thing. It’s not that I’m shy about bodies or anything but as it is I was just getting used to being able to actually touch Wu’s. I love the man, everybody knows it, but when it comes to bodies he’s slender as a reed. I’m afraid I’ll break him, you follow? Although I guess he’s tougher than he looks. We haven’t done very much since getting back from my place out in the country, just messing around like two horny teenagers with our clothes mostly on. It’s nice to be able to touch him when I want to. He gets kind of pissy if I mess up his hair, though, which I think is hilarious. Never met such a vain man in all my life, and I lived my first years in a whorehouse.
We were getting into things the other day when nobody was home but LoLo, seeing as the kids and Lin were off at Opal’s house and Mako was at work. But Wu had another one of his forsaken meetings and we lost track of time a bit and when I realized it I dragged him off my bed, told him to hurry up, we’d be late, and hustled him downstairs. LoLo came out of the kitchen, took one look at us and started snickering, damn him. Wu tried to play it off but that only made LoLo laugh even harder. He put his arm around him and said, “Wu my boy, I know this hasn’t been an issue for you before, but you might want to change before you go out because you’ve got lipstick on your collar.” Wu turned as red as my lipstick and practically took air back up the stairs while I cursed and LoLo just sat down and laughed his ass off. I’m not really used to wearing it either! By all rights I should have been pissed at LoLo for laughing at us but I’ve always found it hard to be mad at him. Besides, it was pretty funny. Next day, Lin comes up to me and says, “Little hint from me to you…wait to put your lipstick on until you’re ready to walk out the door,” and handed me a packet of blotting papers with a roll of her eyes.
Which is just their own way of telling us that they know what’s going on and that they approve. I’m glad, no point in bullshitting around and saying I don’t need their approval. Truth is, Lin and LoLo are the closest thing I’ve ever had to parents and their approval means everything to me.
I’d gone through most of my dinner by the time Mako reappeared. He’d toweled off and sort of shoved his wet hair back, wearing a pair of gi trousers that were too short and fit funny in the waist. “Whose are those?” I handed over his komodo chicken.
“Korra’s. I’ll take them home and make sure they get washed, she’s not in town anyhow.” He sat down next to me and dug into his food, motioning with a chopstick. “There’s rice, too, help yourself.” I dumped about half of it into what was left of my sauce and we ate in silence. Neither Mako nor I are chatters when we eat, not that it matters. Between Wu and Zhi it’s not like the rest of us could get a word in edgewise even if we’d wanted.
Mako suddenly turned his face up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes. “Lightning’s coming,” he said, and about five seconds later it lit up the northside windows, set high up on the walls. He grinned. “Love the lightning.”
“That makes exactly one of us,” I said. I still wasn’t over that little shitstain throwing that lightning at the Butterfly last year. If I’m honest I don’t know that I ever will be. I’ve had more than one nightmare where she didn’t catch it the way she did. He didn’t say anything, just pressed his bare foot along my ankle. Knowing Mako he’s probably had his fair of nightmares about it, too. “I was going to let the storm die down a bit before I drove home,” I said, fishing out the last bits of rice. “If I had known it was going to rain like this I’d have taken Wu’s car.”
“Where are you parked?” He looked around like he was going to see it or something.
“Over at Lin’s place, inside her flat’s garage. I don’t like leaving it on the street, I spend half my time chasing people off of it.”
That got another grin out of him. “Yeah, some street rat might want to boost it, see how it runs.”
I snorted at that and aimed a lazy kick his way, which he avoided. “I just need to go through the locker room, although I think it’s pretty clean. Laundry service’ll come by tomorrow, though, so I have to make sure I’ve got their bag ready for pick up.”
“Well, if the storm doesn’t clear up by then we can take my car home. I can drop you off on my way into work tomorrow. We can ask Lin to take Naoki to school.”
“Yeah, okay.” I sat there while Mako finished his dinner and cleaned everything up, put it back in the bag, listening again as a heavy roll of thunder boomed loud enough to rattle the light fixtures. The lightning followed immediately after.
“Close,” he said. We just continued to sit there, though, not really moving, listening to the storm pick up. It was really letting us have it. I closed my eyes, and as the sky roared again a hand curled around my bare ankle, making me shiver at the feel of rough skin. Mako’s left hand. He’s never once touched me without his glove on. I opened my eyes just as the sky flashed and it blinded me for a second. I blinked a few times to clear my sight and found his mouth hovering near mine.
“Do it if you mean to, but don’t you dare walk away from me again,” I said, but I’m not sure he heard me over the drumming of the rain on the roof. I’m not sure he would have cared if he had, either, because he wasn’t stopping this time. He was kissing me before I quite knew what he was doing and there was nothing slow or gentle about it, either. I didn’t care, I wanted him as bad as he wanted me. He was spicy in my mouth, with just a hint of the ginseng candies he sucks on so Wu won’t taste the cigarette smoke. He pulled away from me, though, just as it was picking up and looked me right in the eye, so close his breath was puffing across my mouth. He’s got beautiful eyes, Mako does. The color of mandarins, shot through with bits like butter. Firebender eyes. I don’t know what roll of the dice made him as handsome as he is but he’s the best looking man I’ve ever seen, I always thought so. Don’t get me wrong, I hated him at first. I was afraid of him. Not just because he was cop but because there’s a darkness running deep in him, something he keeps pretty well hidden. Like knows like, though. I knew he was dangerous, just like he knew I was. We circled each other for a lot of years, Wu in the middle, our hackles raised. I was jealous of him, I’ll admit it. But I wanted him, bad, in a way that the kid I was then didn’t at all understand.
He was staring at me, that scarred hand still wrapped tightly around my ankle, like he was afraid I was going to run off on him. “We’re doing this,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. What was I going to tell him, no? I wanted him to burn me the fuck down. I had enough time to think about the fact that both he and his husband had their first times with me when it was raining - kind of funny, right? - but that was all I had time for because his mouth went right back on mine.
I’ve read all of the romances that Wu has on his shelf, including the ones he’s written. Whoever’s being seduced for their first time - and it’s always their first time, isn’t it? - they usually have some sort of moment where they go on about feeling fragile and full of wonder, shy or maybe overcome with desire or some such shit. Well, that’s not how I felt. I felt hot. I felt wet. I felt like I had to do something to keep from screaming, so I dug my short nails into his back and he liked that and that made me even hotter. I didn’t want him to make love to me! I wanted him to fuck me, rip me open, tear me apart, slam into me so hard I wouldn’t walk straight for a week. I didn’t want any sweetness from the man.
But that fucking Mako, he wasn’t going to give me what I wanted. He’s the kind of man who gives you what you need, so he pulled the both of us up and hauled me up into his arms and walked me across the mat to the one wall where Yumi’s got mirrors. He stood me in front of him, and then, as we were both watching, started to undo my black tunic.
“What are you doing?” I asked, but he didn’t answer me, just finished with my buttons and hauled the tunic up and over my head like I was Meili or something, just tossed it on the floor. I don’t have much at all up top - not enough to ever really bother with bindings or anything like that - and the cooler air made my nipples hard enough to cut glass. Mako smiled, though, and pulled me back into him with one hand while he ran that rough left hand over one of them.
“Sweet,” he said into my ear, and I scoffed while my body was trembling all over.
“Ain’t sweet,” I said, glaring at him in the mirror. He just kept smiling, though.
“Sweet,” he repeated, and took my earlobe in his teeth. Now, I’m not Wu, I’m not going to come just from someone putting their tongue on my ear, but I’m not going to lie and say that it didn’t rile me up more than a little. Fuck. It riled me up a lot, and I was already feeling good to go. He was watching me in the mirror, watching his own hand travel across my breasts, pulling at them, hard. He could see I liked it, he looked smug, damn him. He had me so close to him that I could feel his chest tight against my back, rising and falling as his breathing was picking up too. If he was trying to play it cool he wasn’t fooling me. His eyes were all narrowed down, his grin just a little cocky, just a little cruel. He pinched one of my nipples so hard I moaned and my back arched away from him, chasing after his fingers. He chuckled low in my ear. “Sweet.”
Me? I’m a lot of things. A killer, for one. A thief. A liar. I’ve been ruthless, been gentle, too, when the occasion called for it.
But sweet? Since when I have I ever in my whole fucked up life been sweet?
He pulled me back flush with his chest again, so tight I could feel his chest hair along my back. I could feel how hard he was through the thick material of the gi. He was kissing my neck, still watching the two of us. I tried to turn into him, but he wasn’t having any of that. I’m strong but he’s stronger and he just shook his head slightly and kept me where he wanted me. Normally I’d fight that - it’s just my nature, I don’t know that I’ve ever just let go of much of anything without a fight - but his hands felt so good on me that I wanted him to keep doing what he was doing. He must have realized it, because he let his good right hand take hold of my other breast and then he was tugging on both of my nipples and I swear on my dead mother that he was about to make me come right then and there, I had no fucking idea that anything could feel as good as that. I was whining, too, making this noise I couldn’t have stopped even if I had wanted to. Because he’s Mako he just yanked harder, not letting up on me. My knees were going weak by this time and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how he was doing this so damn fast. I had enough time to think Oh fuck here it is and then I was thrashing against him, my knees giving out completely as he held me up. “Fuck,” he breathed into my ear and when I looked at his face in the mirror I saw he was a little shocked too.
I’m darker than he is, not as dark as Wu, of course, he’s got that beautiful brown skin. Mine tends more to sand, a kind of warm beige, and I can and do tan in the summers. I’m not really what you’d think of when you think of rosy, is what I’m saying. But my face and neck and chest had splotched all over a sort of brick color, and he was staring at it. “I’ve never seen you do that,” he said, running his fingers over it. Well, glad you’re enjoying the show, Mako, meanwhile don’t mind me, I’m just fucking dying over here. His face changed though, got smirkier, and his hand slid right on down me to go into my trousers, his fingers going right on over my clit to take a little trip inside. I let out with a little yelp - I was not expecting that, fuck me - and he pulled his hand out and stuck his finger right into his mouth. My own mouth dropped right open. Oh, the fucking nerve of the man. He closed his eyes for just a second, sucking, and then opened them again and grinned at me as he ran his wet finger across my nipple. “Sweet,” he announced, and I slammed my shoulders back into him to show him what I thought of that. He just laughed, the bastard. “Sweet little Qi,” he said, and then he took us both down to the mat, down to our knees first before laying me flat down on my back, him next to me. “Don’t believe me?”
“I ain’t sweet,” I growled again, and his answer to that was to unfasten my trousers and shove them down my hips, pulling them as well as my shorts right off of me. That’s right. The man had gotten me naked as the day I was born in about two seconds flat. And he’d already made me come. Shit. When you’re good you’re good, I guess. I tried glaring at him, but he wasn’t fooled for one second. He knew I wanted it as much as he did.
“I could eat you all night,” he said, and maybe it should have sounded like one of those ridiculous things out of a romance, but let me tell you, when a man is saying that as he’s pushing your legs apart and putting his mouth on you it goes from silly to gritty shit I’m going to soak this mat I just got finished cleaning just like that. Wu was game for trying, I will give him that, but Mako knew his way around down there.
The man never does do much of anything unless he’s good at it and obviously I don’t have a wide range of experience but he had me so jacked up I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I’d had to give Wu some pointers about what I liked but the man here was working me around in ways I hadn’t even known were workable, his tongue all over me. I was not even close to keeping my cool, I was trying to move all over that mat but he had a firm grip, keeping me where he wanted me. I wasn’t even sure what all he was doing down there, just that he was doing some sort of slurpy-nibbling thing that was making me babble all kinds of nonsense, begging him not to stop, my fists beating on his head, which didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. Right as I could feel it coming again, right as I started to tighten up he pulled back to grin at me. “What the fuck!” I hollered at him, and then he slid a finger in, easy as you please, and tapped upwards with it.
“Knock knock,” he said, looking very pleased with himself. I squeaked, which is not a sound I am often known to make. I tried to scooch myself back down towards his face, but he just shook his head. “Ah-ah-ah,” he said, the same warning noise he makes at the kids when they’re acting up.
“Get on with it,” I said, but all he did was just run his tongue very slowly along me while still keeping my eyes. Oh, he was having himself a good old time. I brought my knees together and squeezed at his head. “I swear,” I said, and I wasn’t really sure what I was swearing except that I was starting to feel all snarly from getting so worked up and then just hanging there. He got the point, though, because he started stroking that finger in and out, pressing down in a place inside me I hadn’t even known I had. “Fuck,” I said, and he laughed.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile,” he said. Yeah, no shit, right? He pushed my hair back a little and smiled at me. “You really are sweet.”
I shoved at his chest. “Quitcher noise, boy. I ain’t sweet.”
“Sweet as candy,” he said, letting some Dockside flavor the words. “Sweet,” he kissed me, right on my clit, “as” another one, “candy.”
I snorted, although I did like the kissing. “Ass.” He just kept smiling, though. He took in a quick breath when I stretched my leg to run my foot over that good-sized bulge in those pants, though. I’m thinking Korra never needs to know what was going on in them tonight. “Well now,” I said, because I can be sassy when I put my mind to it too, you know, “What do we have here?”
His grin got even bigger. “Why doncha put yer hand down and give it a try?”
“Dunno, old son, might be as it bites me.”
“You a coward?” He came up along my body to whisper in my ear, and his laugh was nothing more than a hot breath.
I slid my hand on in there. Oh, he’s a big one, for sure. What did I say about the man being born perfect? Far more than a handful and if he wanted in my mouth I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to manage it. But I guessed he’d be used to that. Wasn’t quite sure how I’d manage all of that inside me, either, and if you think I wasn’t thinking about that then let me set you straight right now. I wanted it inside of me, make no doubt. I gripped him hard and pulled my hand up and he hissed at me. Not so smart now, are we? He was good and wet at the tip, too, and I used my thumb to move it around that fat head of his and his breath stuttered out of him.
“Problem?” I asked, and he drew his head back to glare at me, giving me a challenge. I pulled my hand out to fumble with the ties on the gi and once I had them loose enough he shoved them down, yanking them off with a little more trouble than he’d had with mine. I was about to go back in for my prize when I saw something on his skin, inked in right above where the black hair started to grow around that cock that was bobbing around, trying to make my acquaintance. I put my face a little closer to it and it surprised a laugh right out of me. It was Wu’s Hou-Ting crest, tattooed right there, claiming him for his own. “What the…” I started, and he grabbed my hand and moved it to cover it up.
“You did that,” he said, eyes drilling holes into me.
“Say what now?”
“You and that fucking white jumpsuit.” He pushed my hand back down to his dick. “I felt so damn guilty about how much I wanted you that night that I did it for Wu.”
My eyebrows went up. “Wu wanted you to do that?”
He shook his head. “No. I did it on my own.” His eyes closed as he took a deep breath through his nose. “Wu…he likes that. He likes it when I prove myself to him.”
I pumped my hand a little. “I’m guessing you like it too?”
His eyes opened again. “Yeah,” he said, and he swallowed. “Yeah, I do.”
My breathing picked up. “Like how?” My clit started throbbing, waiting to hear about this. I know they spend nights at the Four Elements hotel. I always figured it was nasty stuff they didn’t want to do at home.
His fingers dug into the meat of my ass. “I let him do whatever he wants to me.”
Now it was my turn to swallow. “Anything?”
“I have a way to make him stop if I need him to.”
My body felt like it was burning up. “Have you ever made him stop?”
He slowly drew his mouth up my jaw until he got up to my ear. “Never,” he whispered. Well, now. “The tattoo is so that he’d know I belonged to him.”
My grip tightened a little and he moaned. “Then what are you doing here with me?”
“You’re going to be a Hou-Ting too,” he said. “We both belong to him.”
“You really think I belong to him?” I asked, brushing my fingers across the tattoo. “I don’t belong to nobody.”
He was quiet for a moment, although his breathing was rough in my ear. “Then I guess I belong to you, too.”
“Is that what you want?” I asked. Some things about Mako were suddenly making a whole lot more sense to me.
There was a long pause before he whispered, “Yes,” into my ear, and then he bit down on my collarbone, sucking at me, marking me.
I didn’t know what to say to that, it was going to mean some thinking on my part that my body was not at all interested in having right then. He seemed to be fine with my not answering though, because he pulled me in good and tight so I could feel that big boy of his tucked up against my groin and belly and then did a wicked little grind against me. “Son, you really think you’re going to get that monster all up inside me?” I asked, joking but not really joking, if you catch my drift. He pulled back to meet my eyes.
“I know it’s your first time for that,” he said, turning serious. “I’ll be careful. You trust me?”
I didn’t even need to consider that. “Yeah.”
“Good,” he said, and kissed me, taking it slow, making it sweet. He wrapped one of those long legs around me and made his way down until he took a nipple into his mouth, making these little happy noises I don’t think I’ve ever heard him make before. Back and forth he went, sucking and biting, making me squirm with how hot I was getting. Next thing I knew he had a hand on me, stroking me down there but not quite where I wanted it. “Come on, then,” I said, and he didn’t say anything, just rolled over on to his back and took me with him, moving me until he had me where he wanted me, pushing down on my thighs until I was kneeling over his face. He pulled me down then, and started going to town. He had a good tight grip on my hips, his mouth going everywhere, staring up at me, looking at me like I was one of those fruit tarts he loves so much. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with my hands but my nipples were feeling all lonesome, so I decided to give them some attention and he growled right into me. Yeah, he liked that, I could tell. So I stared right back into his eyes and started to twist and pull on my breasts, something which was getting me worked up almost as much as him. His hands slid around to cup my ass and he squeezed, hard, and pushed me a little further up. He had his tongue inside of me now and it felt so fucking good I sunk down on him without even thinking if the man needed to breathe or not. Movement caught my eye and I turned my head to see the two of us reflected in the mirror. I didn’t even recognize myself! Who was this person sitting atop this gorgeous man, all panting and moaning with their mouth open, eyes half-closed, pulling on their little titties? I looked downright sexy, for a wonder. Is this what he saw, looking up at me?
He pulled me away, then, half of his face covered with my wet. He grinned at me and rolled me back to the floor, kissing me, getting my face wet too. I couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t stop all of the noises I was making. A single finger slid into me, real easy-like, and my hips shot up off the floor. He explored around in there, still kissing me, grinning into my mouth. So cocky. Ah, I loved it. “More,” I managed, and then another finger slid in there. The man’s got long fingers, too. Just thought I should mention.
“That okay?” he asked me, and I managed a nod.
“You ain’t hurtin’ me,” I said, and he kissed down my throat. Those two fingers were working in and out of me and I was doing that little shimmy thing across the mat again, I couldn’t stop myself. Not that I wanted to. His scarred thumb went to my clit and started to circle it and I swear my whole body was screaming it felt so fucking good. He muttered something I didn’t quite make out and then another finger slid in, and now I was yelling I don’t even know what, getting tight all over, mostly forgetting I was supposed to be breathing, my body feeling like it was expanding, like I was going to start floating like a damn airbender or something. Without warning he pulled his fingers out of me and I lost it, started crying at him not to stop, no shame in me at all. But he had something so much better in mind, and he moved away from me, going up on his knees, and I was begging him for it, you can best believe it. I honestly don’t think he was any better, he was breathing hard, his own face flushed and I swear to you his eyes looked like they were on fire. I know what you’re thinking, but I swear it’s true.
He got himself all snug up to me, lifting one of my legs up to his shoulder so he had a little more wiggle room. “Okay,” he said, and then his cock started to slowly push into me as I held my breath, anticipating the size of it. It was a little dicey there for a minute but he was being careful and he’d gotten me so wet that pretty soon it started feeling amazing, I was so full of him and I wanted even more. I tried kicking at him with my free leg to make him go a little deeper but all he did was grin at me and grab it and hook it over his other shoulder. He just kept sliding forward slowly, stretching me out and both of us were sweating with the effort of it. I had tears in my eyes, it was so good.
“Breathe,” he reminded me, and I took a deep breath in, making him shift just a little in me and it felt like the whole world exploded and I started punching at his chest, I didn’t know what I wanted at that point, but he sure as fuck did, because he started moving just the slightest bit inside me, nice and easy, but he was so big that I could feel everything he was doing and there I was again, begging him to please go harder, but he knew what I needed more than I did and he kissed my knee and kept up what he was doing as I started to twitch, hanging on that edge. I reached down to touch myself but he knocked my hand aside, shaking his head at me, not even giving a damn when I bared my teeth at him, throbbing all over, tight and wound up, my body like an engine, screaming at me to shift gears now now now, and that’s exactly what he did, pulling almost all the way out of me before slamming himself in as deep as I could take it and that was it, my hips flew up as my back arched and my fists were banging on the floor and it was so deep, so sweet, that tears were leaking out of my eyes and I was thrashing all over, it felt like nothing had ever felt before and my body couldn’t stop, it just kept throbbing with my heart, yes yes yes. I swear I thought I was dying for a minute, I came that hard.
He didn’t wait for me to cool down before he started to move again. I tried to put my arms back around him but we were both slippery with sweat so I ended up grabbing around his neck. I hung on for dear life, my eyes closed, while he was pounding himself into me, and I thought I was all done but I wasn’t, damn the man altogether, my engine started to rev up again and he was fucking me so hard I’d find out later I had marks across my back from getting shoved across the mat. He hooked his arms under my shoulders and hauled me in as close as he could, practically laying on me, the base of that big cock of his stroking my clit in all the right ways, and I thought I was going to come again but he made a sort of strangled noise and froze up. My eyes flew open to watch his face change, feeling his body go tense over mine as he let go inside of me. Tit for tat, I always say, so before he cooled down too much I pushed myself against him, just a few little strokes against the base of his cock and that’s all it took for me to come again. Just a little one this time, the finishing touch as Wu likes to say, like when they put a curl of lemon rind atop your dinner. I peeked at Mako to see if he minded but he just had his eyes closed, taking in deep breaths, shaking more than a little now himself.
“Shit,” he said, and then, very carefully, rolled over so that I was laying atop him, him still in me. He wrapped his arms around me and we lay there for a time, both of us worn out. At some point he started slowly massaging along the back of my head with his fingers and I kissed his chest in thanks.
Now, look. I know Mako did not show up at this dojo tonight thinking he was going to get into my pants. He showed up to bring me dinner, because he’s a considerate man that way. He’s also a man that will take an opening when he sees one, it’s what makes him such a damn good firebender. He took his shot tonight and made it his business to make sure he did a thorough job of it. That’s how he is. What I’m trying to say here is that sure, maybe it would have been nice to have done this in a bed, going slow, making something romantic of it instead of just fucking on a mat that, if I’m being honest, smelled more than a little like feet. But I’ve got no regrets. We’ll have plenty of time later to do this in all kinds of different ways, and I’m looking forward to that. But right then and there I was good with just letting him hold me, his cock getting all soft in me.
I’m not sure how long we were there, I think both of us might have dozed off a little. Eventually I forced myself to move, noting that he’d softened enough to mostly slide out of me. “Still raining,” I said.
He just grunted.
“Haven’t heard any thunder in a bit.”
“It’s moved south.”
“Ah.”
We lay there, not really looking at each other until he sighed. “I need a smoke.”
“Not in here you don’t. Yumi’d kill you.” I eased away from him, dragging myself up to sit with a bit of a groan and whistled as I saw what we’d done. “Shit son, you made a damn mess here.”
He grinned up at me. “You think that was all me?” I nudged him with my foot and he leaned up and kissed me. “Go take a shower. I’ll clean this up.”
“I can do it.”
“Yeah, I know you can. Go on. She still keep the cleaning supplies in the one closet?” At my nod he stood in a fluid motion, staring down. “Good thing the laundry’s coming tomorrow.”
I took a long enough shower that he eventually joined me in there, scrubbing himself off quickly, frowning at his still damp clothes. Nothing I could do about it for him, I wasn’t the waterbender in the family. We got dressed and he helped me tidy up the locker room and get the laundry all loaded up and ready to go.
It was still raining when I locked the front door behind us. He immediately lit up a cigarette and handed it to me before lighting up his own. We smoked for a bit under the overhang of the building.
“You want to take your car?”
I shook my head. “I’d rather not if I can still catch a ride with you.”
He just jerked his thumb. “It’s around the corner.” We both pitched our smokes into the water running along the sidewalk to the sewers and made a dash for his car. Mako’s car is a basic sedan model, painted in green and black. He uses it at work sometimes and doesn’t want to draw attention to either it or himself. He’s got a beautiful red motorbike that Asami gave him fifteen years or so back though and he babies that thing like it’s the love of his life. Not that I’m one to talk. He slid behind the wheel and I got in the passenger side. Normally I prefer to drive but he gets a little touchy about it if it’s his car, which I get. I’m the same. He started up the windshield wipers - another one of Asami’s brilliant ideas - and pulled out, heading north. Our place is across the North Bridge from downtown, this time of day we’d have about twenty-five minutes or so to get home. With a little sigh I curled up on the seat next to him and he patted his thigh, so I put my head there and he slid his fingers into my hair. “Go to sleep if you want,” he said, and then he quieted right back down. His leg was warm under the damp wool of his pants, a little too hard with muscle to be especially comfortable but I didn’t want to move away from the tenderness he was showing me.
There was a radio at the whorehouse where I grew up. One of the men had brought it in as payment when he was cash-poor and the Madam, she let the whores keep it for themselves. One of them, Blossom, she was a big pro-bending fan, she liked listening to the games in between pokes. I wasn’t allowed anywhere near the customers, but I’d sit quietly in the back of the private room where the whores hung out when they were waiting, listening to the games, eating bits of candy the customers sometimes brought and the whores would give me. I got to be a big fan. I remember him and his brother, remember when Korra started to play for them as well. That was when the Equalists were making a big scene in the city. Not that it really mattered to us. Neighborhood I grew up in, nobody had the time to bother with that kind of shit, everybody’s too busy just trying to live to see the next day. Worrying about whether or not benders have it better doesn’t really apply. Everybody had it better than we did. But I knew who he was. Move along a few years to when he took me to the station, it didn’t click, not even when Wu called him by name. But Wu took me home that first day, took me into the kitchen where LoLo took one look at my scrawny ass and immediately sat me down and fed me, never mind that I’d just had a meal at the station. We went to go and look at his car - oh, that pretty yellow Satomobile - and came back in and he took me for a tour around the family wing of the house. And there, hanging up on the wall in the living room, in a place of honor, was a Fire Ferret poster, all nicely framed. That’s when it clicked for me that he was that Mako, the handsome firebender that so many people sighed over, the friend to the Avatar, the guy who had took down the Colossus. In my mind, he was far more a celebrity than Wu ever was. It’s not like I had a good working knowledge of the Earth Kingdom! I surely had never bothered about their King. We had dinner that night, sitting in the kitchen, me still in my rags, Wu talking to me like I wasn’t trash off the street, me admiring Naoki’s pretty dress and the bows in her hair, Mako looking at me like he was just waiting for me to fuck up so he could toss me out on my ass. I was just about to turn fourteen. I would have laid down in the street and let Wu step all over me if he had wanted to. But Mako? He scared the shit out of me. Not just because he could have killed me with a flick of his hand, although that was part of it. He scared me because he was a celebrity, larger than life, one of my heroes in the flesh, glaring at me across the table.
I came out of my doze as he put the car into park. “We’re home,” he said, cupping my head and running his thumb along my neck. “Let me go and open the garage door.” I sat up and shook myself a bit.
“No, I got it.” I jumped out, glad to see the rain had stopped up here. I let him in and closed the door behind him, waiting for him to hop out of the car. We walked together into the entrance that led into the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible. It was later than I thought. LoLo had left a light on for us and as we kicked off our shoes in the entryway he poked his head around the corner, dressed in his caftan, his hair braided back for the night.
“You two get some dinner?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“Yeah, I stopped off at Chin’s,” Mako said.
LoLo nodded. “Well, I saved a bit of duck in the icebox just in case.” He smiled. “Goodnight, then.” We said our goodnights as well and he went back into his room.
“I need to get these wet things off.”
“Yeah,” I said. We stood there in the kitchen for a minute before heading out, down the hall to the big staircase, walking up together, not saying anything. Second floor and he stood there awkwardly for a moment before nodding at me and turning to go into his and Wu’s bedroom. I walked up the next flight to where my room is. I half-expected Wu to be in his office across from me, but he wasn’t. He must have already gone to bed, then. I shucked off my clothes and hung them up before putting on a pair of sleeping trousers and an undershirt, brushing my teeth.
My room was very quiet.
I crawled into bed and turned off my bedside lamp, laying there in the summer darkness. I wasn’t really sleepy any longer. Truth be told, I was feeling like I might cry, which was just foolishness. What did I have to cry about? Nothing, that’s what. Still, my throat was aching with it, and the first hot tear had rolled down my face when I heard my door open. “That you, baby?” I called. Sometimes Meili likes to come up and sleep with me.
“No, it’s me,” Mako said, standing in the door between my sitting room and my bedroom. I sat up. I couldn’t see him very well.
“What you need?”
He sighed and walked forward, putting his hand out. “Come on.”
“Come on what?” I didn’t know what he wanted from me.
“Don’t sleep up here tonight. Come down with me.”
“Come down with you where?” I thought he meant down to the living room or something, couldn’t figure out what he was going on about.
“To our bedroom.” He waved his hand impatiently.
“You want me to go and sleep in your bed with you? Where’s Wu?”
“In bed, where else would he be?” He sighed again and reached forward to grope for my hand. “Come on.”
“But this is my bed.”
“We can figure it out later. I just…I don’t want to lay awake all night thinking about you up here all alone. Not after what we just did.”
My mind was racing along. “What about Wu?”
“Wu won’t care.”
I frowned. “You sure about that?”
“Would I be up here if I wasn’t?” Well, I had to give him that, Mako’s not one to just guess at something and hope for the best. So I swung myself out of bed and followed him back down the stairs, him in nothing but a pair of his shorts again. He let us into his bedroom and closed the door quietly behind us. He led me by the hand to the bed and crawled into the middle, holding up the covers and patting at the empty space next to him. It’s a big bed.
I still wasn’t sure, but I settled down and he made one of his all is well with the world kind of grunts, tugging the thin blanket over me. I lay there on my back, trying to figure out what, exactly, I was doing there.
“Mako?” Wu’s voice was groggy. “Are you home?”
“Yeah. Go on back to sleep.”
“Is Qi home?”
“Yeah. Right here on the other side of me, actually.” There was a long silence and then the bedclothes rustled as Wu sat straight up, hand sliding across Mako to land on my arm.
“Qi? Is that you?”
“Uh-huh,” I managed to get out. I was so nervous I felt sick with it. Wu just patted me, though.
“Lovely,” he murmured, and then took his hand away, laying back down. “Does Qi have a pillow?”
“Yeah, one of mine.”
“Did you put your salve on?”
“I got it covered.”
Wu yawned audibly. “Mmmmmm,” was all he said before shifting a bit, finally getting comfortable again. Mako found my hand under the covers and squeezed it. I squeezed back and waited for him to fall asleep, which he eventually did, his hand going slack in mine. I lay there for a time, thinking it all over, noticing the different ways my body was a little sore, trying to wrap my head around what had all just gone on. Their bed smelled a bit like jasmine, a bit like the herbal stuff Mako puts on his scars, more than a bit of two men, asleep. Their windows faced the front of the house instead of the back, like mine, and the moonlight was in all the wrong places for this time of night, throwing me off a little. Mako slept heavily, hardly moving, his breathing deep and even. Wu, like he had at my lodge, tossed and turned, murmuring in his sleep, restless.
I must have fallen asleep eventually, because the next thing I knew the bedroom was full of light and there was Wu, hair a mess of curls, glasses in their usual place on his nose, moving in and out of his forms. Mako was still asleep. I watched him until he’d finished, holding his last pose for several long minutes. He saluted the sun and then looked down at me, his smile looking like the sunrise itself. “Good morning, my love,” he said, and when I smiled in return, he winked at me. “I told you he was spectacular.” His eyes laughed at the look on my face and he did that sassy little walk he does when he’s pleased with himself straight into the bathroom, disappearing inside. A second later a long brown hand appeared in the doorway and two fingers gave me the royal order to join him. I slid out of the bed and walked into the bathroom to find him sitting on the counter, looking like the cat that ate the cream. “Close the door behind you, my darling, and tell me every single delicious detail.”
Shaking my head at the nerve of the man, I did what he asked and put myself between his legs, pulling him close to me as he wrapped them around the back of my thighs. “What do you want to know, you nosy old biddy?” I asked him before biting down on his earlobe, enjoying how he shook in my arms.
This was going to be fun.
Chapter 11: Why Can't We Both Be Right
Summary:
The Imperial Jade Hotel, Ba Sing Se
Poppy and Jai"Don't Wanna Fight" by Alabama Shakes
Notes:
This is the final chapter, Kisses, of my December 2021 Prompt List Fic Collection. It was meant to be a ficlet. 20k words and a year and a half later, here it is. What can I say? You all know me by now.
No Beta, so apologies for any mistakes. Feel free to give me a heads up so I can correct them!
Chapter Text
She had stopped by the front desk at the Imperial Jade hotel to check and see if he’d already arrived when she heard the familiar stomp stomp stomp of Jai’s footfalls across the marble floors. Finally! The damnable man had point blank refused to let her pick him up in the family airship, insisting he’d make his own way there. His fucking funeral. He'd told her he was taking a train and then one of the public airships that took him across The Great Divide and over the Serpent’s Tail, landing outside the city near the former Lower Ring, which of course meant yet another train across the city itself. Public transportation was slow, dirty and full of who the fuck knew who. She had no idea what he was trying to prove with any of it, unless he wanted to make sure she was aware he was a stubborn idiot. He had no need to prove it. She already knew. His insistence on said public transportation - Paid for by the mine! What was the point of all of it! He could have saved the mine money by going with her on her airship! - meant she’d left two days after him and even at that she’d been cooling her heels in the Upper Ring all morning, waiting for his train to arrive so she could make sure he didn’t try to wiggle out of checking in under the Beifong name. Granted, she had taken advantage of the time to do a little shopping but that wasn’t the point, was it?
She turned to greet him and nearly choked. Someone please tell her he wasn’t going to wear that same hideous off the rack suit to their meetings for the potential new refinery. Please. Not to mention he’d clearly been traveling in it, if the embedded wrinkles and sagging droop of his shirt were anything to go by. He must have something else to wear, even if she saw only two bags in his hands.
No. Wait. That wasn’t a bag. That was a wicker basket. No. He had not. He wouldn’t dare.
It must have shown on her face because he stopped in the middle of the lobby to glare at her.
“What?”
There she stood, in a stylish dress that clung to her everywhere, leaving absolutely nothing up to the imagination, in that vibrant red that was her namesake, a matching hat trimmed with red silk poppies tilted saucily over one eye. And heels, of course, these in red as well, impossibly high as per usual. She was staring at him - no scratch that, glaring at him - with that single eyebrow cocked up, her mouth making the most ladylike moue of disgust he’d probably ever seen. She submerged herself in profanity like the most hardened of his miners but there was no mistaking Poppy Beifong for anything but a lady.
Damn the woman anyhow.
Her gaze moved from him to the basket he was holding in his left hand. Her lip curled up at that.
“What?”
She scoffed and put a hand to her chest. Her hands were gloved, of course, but he’d lay every yuan he had that her fingernails had been polished to match. “Tell me you did not bring that beast.”
He glanced down at the basket. “He doesn’t like it if I leave him behind.” The truth of the matter was that he couldn’t leave Mao at home. He’d tried to pay extra just to have someone feed him and change his cat sand once a day but had been refused by everyone he’d asked. Mao had gotten himself a bit of a reputation at the mine. And in any case, Mao liked to travel. Mostly.
“Unbelievable,” Poppy said, and turned to the woman behind the reception desk, the one who had already checked her in a few hours earlier. “This is Jai, he has a reservation under Beifong as well. He’ll apparently need a box with cat sand in his room.” She flicked her hand. “And some sort of food for the cat, I assume.”
The concierge shot a very quick look at the basket, which had started to rattle and growl. Mao wanted out. “It will be our pleasure, Miss Beifong.” She fussed with a large book for a few moments. “Mister Jai is registered in your suite, Miss Beifong.”
Poppy froze. “I beg your pardon?”
He frowned. “I think there’s been a mistake.”
The concierge shook her head. “Your reservation is for the Grand Secretarial Suite, Miss Beifong, as is Mister Jai’s. We received your bags from the private airfield and our staff already took the liberty of taking your things there for you.” She looked pointedly at his hands, like she wasn’t sure if he had anything else than Mao’s basket and his single suitcase and didn’t want to ask.
Poppy’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “This is the first I’ve heard of it. We were meant to have two rooms.”
The concierge flipped through the book again before glancing up apologetically. “I’m afraid there is only the one room.” Her glance ricocheted between the two of them. “Of course it is a suite, with two bedrooms.”
Poppy gritted her teeth before pasting on a smile. “I see. And who, do tell, made these arrangements?”
The concierge pasted on a smile in return. “They were the arrangements that were made before you arrived, Miss Beifong.”
Rage practically radiated off of Poppy in waves. “Indeed. And let me make a guess. There are no other rooms available tonight in the hotel?”
The concierge dutifully went through the book again, although he was sure she knew exactly what was or wasn’t available already. “I am afraid not, Miss Beifong.”
“Of course there aren’t.” Poppy’s black eyes were snapping. “Well. If you could ensure that someone brings the cat sand and food as soon as possible I would be grateful.”
“Immediately, Miss Beifong.” The concierge quickly passed Poppy two keys. Poppy took them into her hands and swung around to march across the lobby, not even looking to see if he was following her.
“The Grand Secretariat Suite,” she said to the elevator girl, who let out a shriek as The Beast snuck out a paw to swipe at her. “Keep that damn thing contained,” she snapped at Jai, who practically bared his teeth at her.
“Is this some sort of a fucking joke?” His nostrils had gone white. “Was this your idea?”
“It very clearly was not my idea,” she grated out as the elevator started to move, the girl in her smart uniform trying to mold herself into the mirrored wall to avoid The Beast’s basket. “I’ll fix it, just let’s get to the room first.” She pointed at his suitcase. “Please tell me you have another suit in there.”
“What?”
“You can’t possibly think you can go to the meeting in that-” she waved her hands at all five thousand feet of him in disgust “-article of clothing. They’ll laugh us out of the building.”
“They’re not there to discuss what I’m wearing,” he hissed, and the fucking cat took that as a cue and started hissing as well.
“Are you seriously that naïve?” She scoffed. “This is Ba Sing Se, Jai, not whatever backwards village you came out of.”
“I lived in this city for nearly ten years,” he shouted, and the doors slid open. He dropped his suitcase - which had certainly seen better days - and dug into his pocket, pulling out some money, which he handed over to the elevator girl. “Thank you,” he said, very politely, before grabbing his suitcase and turning back to her. “Don’t tell me about Ba Sing Se!”
“Whatever,” she said, and flicked her hand as she passed him, heading down the carpeted runner of the hallway. She was going to murder Mommy. Absolutely murder her. She jammed one of the keys into the lock of the door that proclaimed itself the Grand Secretariat Suite and opened it, moving herself inside, dropping both keys on the marble of the console table along with her handbag, quickly removing her hat and gloves as well. The man was lucky she didn’t stab him with her hat pin. How dare he bring that wretched beast! If Mao snagged a single one of her silk stockings the way he had he always done before Jai took ownership of him she’d strangle the both of them with her bare hands.
“This hotel has plenty of rooms,” he grunted, dropping his suitcase and tossing his own hat onto the table before shutting the door behind him and bending down to untie his shoes. “I don’t believe for one fucking second they’re completely booked.”
She merely sniffed at that. “Don’t you even think of letting that beast out until they’ve brought the cat sand. The last thing I need is for him to do his business on the carpet.” She waved towards the rooms. “They’ll have unpacked my things into one of the bedrooms already. You can take the other one.” She located the phone and as soon as her heels were off, headed straight for it.
“I thought you were going to fix this?” He put the basket on the floor and crossed his arms. “This entire thing smells of your mother’s interference.”
It reeked of Mommy’s interference, of course, but she didn’t appreciate him saying it. “Oh, I am so dreadfully sorry that I have not resolved this situation to your satisfaction in the approximate ten seconds we have actually been inside the room. How very careless of me. I’d say you could fire me but I am, technically speaking, your boss.” She gave him her sweetest smile, and he responded with a curse that would have done Auntie Lin proud.
She picked up the phone, waiting for the hotel operator. “This is Poppy Beifong in the Grand Secretariat Suite. I need to place a call to Republic City. Northside two-two-eight. They’ll ask for a password, and it’s Bob.” She waited for the operator to confirm it back to her before thanking them and putting the phone back into its cradle.
“Who are you calling in Republic City?” His scowl was fearsome. “Is that where your mother is? And why does she need a password? Who needs a password for their phone?”
“My mother was in Zaofu when I left, for your information. And former kings need passwords so that random people and the paparazzi aren’t trying to get them at home.” She headed straight for the bar, where she poured herself a glass of whiskey, quickly tossing it down. “Any other questions?”
He stared at the glass in her hand. “What is that?”
“Whiskey. Fire whiskey, to be precise.” She poured herself another shot. “If you want some, get your own.”
“Since when do you drink fire whiskey?” His lip curled up. “I’ve never seen you drink anything but wine.”
“Since I studied in Republic City and got a taste for it thanks to my sister and my uncle,” she replied. “Is there anything else you’d like to know? My shoe size? The shade of lipstick I’m wearing? The name and address of the first boy I kissed?” Now where had that come from?
He scoffed. “I’ll pass, thanks.” He stomped through the living room and into the room to the left, banging on something that was probably a drawer and letting out with a savage grunt before stomping back out again. He muttered something that sounded like “How much clothing does one fucking woman need” before snatching up his suitcase and the basket with the cat and stomping into the room on the right.
“I will kill her,” she said to the empty room, and sucked down the second shot in a single gulp.
He knew, with absolute certainty, that her mother had done this. Damn interfering woman! Damn interfering Beifongs! He tossed his suitcase on the bed that was big enough to sleep an entire family but put Mao’s basket down gently. “Hang in there, gorgeous,” he said, offering his hand for Mao to sniff. “They’ll be here soon with some sand for you.” Mao mewed piteously and he grimaced.
He probably should have taken the Beifong’s airship for Mao’s sake instead of spending two days traveling but he hadn’t wanted to be on the airship with her alone. Spending time alone with her was a bad idea for everyone involved. So he’d brought along some cat sand in a bag and had tried to help Mao that way and the poor cat had been miserable. Well. He’d just have to take the woman’s airship back to the mine, then. Fuck him. Sideways.
Her shoe size? Child.
Her shade of lipstick? Fuck Me Red.
The name and address of the first boy she’d kissed? Whoever he was, she’d probably ruined him for life.
And the worst part of it was that he would kill for a glass or three or five of fire whiskey but he wasn’t about to go out there and get it now. “Fucking Beifongs,” he muttered, and, once again, thought about quitting.
The shrill ring of the telephone cut through the quiet and he heard Poppy answer it; silence for a few moments and then she actually laughed. “Of course it’s me, Uncle Wu!” A silence, then: “No, I’m here on business, it’s about one of the mines…..mmmhmmm….Uncle Wu! I wasn’t calling you about the mine!” She laughed again, a happy, carefree sound. “No, I wanted to ask you for some help.” Her voice lowered at that, and he walked closer to the door, trying to overhear what she was saying. Uncle Wu? It must be the former King Hou-Ting, then. It was common knowledge that her mother had been his secretary during his abdication - he’d learned about it in school, in fact - but he had no idea that the Beifongs were close enough that Poppy had his password and talked to him like he was an actual uncle instead of the head of the oldest royal family in the world. She laughed once again and as he hovered he heard the knock on the door.
“Jai, can you get that?” she called, but he was already walking towards it. “No, that’s fine. Uncle Wu, you are a lifesaver, thank you…..yes. I will, I promise. Give my love to everyone…..mmmmhmmm….I will. I have to run!”
He opened the door to find four bellhops, one carrying a box that was clearly meant for cats, another pushing a wheeled cart with a silver platter atop a pristine white cloth, covered with a silver dome, yet another holding what looked like a cat bed as well as a scratching post and the fourth carrying an entire armload of boxes. “Uh…” he started, but Poppy was there, gesturing them inside.
“Thank you. You can take the cat things into the room there on the right and take the boxes into the room on the left.” She reached into her handbag and pulled out money as he followed the bellhops going to his room. The one with the box opened a door that led into a bathroom and placed it there; the other one moved the silver platter to a side table and bowed before lifting up the cover to reveal two small silver bowls, one filled with water and the other filled with raw meat chopped small, mixed with some sort of liver pate, if his nose wasn’t mistaken. Mao smacked at his cage.
“Here we are, kitty. I’m so sorry,” he said, unlatching the box and Mao leapt out, sniffing and stretching. “Here. Let me put the food and water over here.” He took the bowls and placed them on the floor.
“Where would you like the bed and post, sir?” The bellhop holding them was watching Mao.
“Uh, just over here is fine.” He gestured and the bellhop put them down. He doubted Mao would use the bed - Mao liked to sleep with him - but the post would probably be appreciated.
“If sir would give me the traveling box I will see to its cleaning.” The bellhop who had carried the sandbox bowed. “If it is acceptable to sir the maids will change out the sandbox in the mornings and evenings when they service the room. If the cat finds the food acceptable please let the front desk know and we will provide the same meals twice a day.”
“Sure,” he said, and did his best to keep his expression neutral. The entire thing was fucking ridiculous but these people were just doing their jobs. He handed over the basket - which did, in fact, need some pretty serious cleaning - and stood back so that all three of them could file out of his door, where Poppy handed over cash.
“Could you please ask the kitchen to send up a meal for two?” Poppy thought for a moment. “Lobster crab, if available. If not, then turtle duck would be fine.”
“Of course, madam. Right away.” All four bellhops bowed and made their way out.
“I’m assuming you haven’t had lunch,” she said, and stared at his open bedroom door. “That cat had better not step foot into my bedroom.” Enthusiastic scratching came from the sandbox and she rolled her eyes. “Nice.”
“Like you wouldn’t do the same,” he said, but she ignored him to walk towards her bedroom. “What were all those boxes?”
“I did some shopping while I waited for you to arrive,” she replied, and he followed her, standing in the doorway.
“I thought we were here for business!” She went shopping? For what?
“We’re going to be here a week, Jai. I think we’re allowed to do other things like eat, bathe, and yes, perhaps even shop or take in a show or something.” She pulled a hat out of a box and peered at it, turning it in her hands. “Speaking of which, I have two tickets for us to see the opera later this week. Li Wei is singing.”
Like the name was supposed to mean something to him. “I don’t want to go to the opera.”
“Don’t be obstinate, Jai. Nobody is getting tickets for that thing. It’s been sold out since last year.” She stood in front of the mirror and perched the hat on her perfectly coiffed head. He’d thought she must have put her hair into curlers like so many other women did until he’d seen her without them the time her mother had railroaded him into spending the night.
Speaking of her mother. “Are you going to get another room for me?”
She sighed and put the hat back in its box before facing him. “It’s one of two things, Jai. Either all of the rooms are actually sold out or the front desk is being bribed an outrageously obscene amount of money to say that they are.” She shrugged. “Either way, what would you have me do?”
“I don’t want to stay here with you!” Shit. That came out wrong.
She curled up a lip. “Such a gentleman. No wonder the ladies are knocking down your door.” She flapped her hands at him in a reasonable facsimile of her mother. “I need to freshen up before the food arrives.” When he didn’t move, she scoffed. “That’s my polite way of saying I need to use the toilet, Jai. Or do you want to come in and watch me do that as well?”
He felt his face go hot. “No! I don’t!” He scowled at her and stepped back, slamming the door in her face before going back to his own room, taking the time to wash his hands and face, patting down his hair helplessly. Mao was eagerly chowing down on whatever it was they had given them. “You’ll puke it back up if you eat too fast,” he warned, but the cat ignored him. He threw himself on to the bed and tried not to seethe. Damnable woman! The opera! Why the fuck would he want to go to the opera!
He hadn’t wanted to stay at the Imperial Jade. He knew it of course; you didn’t live in Ba Sing Se without knowing about it. He’d never actually been to the Upper Ring neighborhood in all his years in Ba Sing Se, however. He’d accepted that he’d be staying there - Raava fucking forfend the Beifongs stay anywhere else - but he assumed he’d have a small room and would, when not in the actual meetings, be able to relax there. He’d even brought a novel to read! He’d thought he might take the train down to the University, walk around the old neighborhood, see how it had changed in the years since he’d left. He even thought he might look up a few old acquaintances from his years in the city, both as a student and then during his years working there. He thought he might give Ahn a visit. They’d been friends with benefits for quite a few years and insofar as he knew she wasn’t in any kind of serious relationship. Maybe he could just have an uncomplicated, pleasurable evening. He hadn’t had anything even remotely resembling a pleasurable evening - uncomplicated or no - since he’d taken the job at the mine.
“Fuck,” he said to the ceiling, and reminded himself, firmly, that he was here for business. Outside of business hours he had zero obligations to spend a single second with Poppy Beifong. He did not actually have to attend the opera; he did not have to do anything whatsoever she demanded. He was his own person, and if his own person wanted to spend the evening somewhere else where women did not a)wear large flannel granny nightgowns and b)didn’t boss him around then he was just going to do that.
There was a knock at the door and he heard a cart being rolled in as Poppy said something too low for him to hear. “Stop sulking and come and eat,” she called through his door and he took several deep breaths before going into the living room, reminding himself that she was not the boss of him.
The man came storming out of his bedroom, looking like murder was on his mind. As if this whole room debacle was her fault! He was very welcome to pick up the phone and call Mommy about it if he liked. She was about to tell him so when she saw him looking at the domed platter of food on the table in the living room like someone who hadn’t eaten in months. It might explain a lot if he was one of those people who got cranky when he was hungry. Orchid sure as hell was. Orchid was downright foul when she was peckish, as a matter of fact, and always had been. So without another word she took away the cover to reveal the lobster crab as well as several different kinds of smaller dishes and poured him a cup of tea while he served himself, immediately digging in.
She stood, as he continued to eat, taking the fire whiskey from the bar, pouring a splash of it into his tea cup as he grunted first his surprise and then his thanks. She left the bottle on the table as she served herself. Not that she didn’t think the man was naturally surly. Oh, clearly he was. But if she had realized that hunger made it worse she would have been carrying snacks. Well, she couldn’t learn any younger, as Grampy always said, so she’d make sure to have snacks going forward.
She kept quiet as he ate, not wanting to distract him, even though she could see that fucking cat sneak his way out of his bedroom, creeping about the suite. Shedding all over everything, of course. Mommy had called Uncle Wei to tell him that they’d thrown Mao at Jai (although Mommy hadn’t put it that way, of course) and insofar as her family was concerned, Jai was stuck with him now and forever. The fickle beast had transferred his devoted love from Mommy to Jai; unlike Mommy, however, Jai returned it. The cat even followed him into the mine, a bell around his neck so Jai knew where he was, coming when Jai called as if he was trained or something. And he’d called her ridiculous for her footwear in the mine! Not that she’d worn heels again. She’d had boots, coverall and a miner’s hat with a lamp made to fit her and she wore those when she went into the mine itself.
He hadn’t let her anywhere near where the cave-in had happened, no matter what she’d said or done. He’d lost his temper with her one afternoon, in fact, shouting at her that she might be a Beifong but she was inexperienced and would be a liability to not only her own safety but the safety of the workers who were down there trying to stabilize it. Nobody would be able to focus on their work if they were constantly worried about where the owners’ granddaughter was, he’d bellowed, jabbing a finger at her. Stop trying to be a hero! She’d been so offended she’d gone immediately to her train and had refused to talk to him for a good two days after that.
She’d never fire him, however. The man might possibly be the most annoying person on earth right behind Iris but he did know his job and he did it well. He’d flat out told her, not long after she first arrived, that his plan was to weed out most of the old guard who had been there under his predecessor, granting some of them early retirement packages and firing one of them straight up when he found evidence that the manager in question had been authorizing overtime - which wasn’t actually being done - and then pocketing the money allocated for it. She’d been wondering about that kind of thing herself and, with his permission, made arrangements to send all of the pertinent financial documents to Uncle Mako. If anybody could find a cooking of the books - as Uncle Mako had put it - then it was her uncle. Uncle Mako had tried to brush away the mine’s payment but Iris had stepped in at that point and said he had to take the payment as a professional instead of a family member doing a favor (even if he did give it all to charity). Iris had plans to go after the former head of the mine, who had ever so conveniently moved to another one of the nations under the former yoke of the Earth Kingdom to avoid taxes and legal repercussions and needed to be able to show official proof of malfeasance.
The former head of the mine would never know what hit her by the time Iris was done with her. You did not fuck over the Beifong family. Period.
Not to mention there were still a lot of miners who were owed back pay from that time and one of the other things Uncle Mako was doing for her was extrapolating that information so she could, at last, see to it that they were compensated. That was going to come out of the family’s bank account, not the mine’s, however. The family had been responsible, after all. They needed to make good on it if they ever hoped to be able to attract more workers to any of their mines and refineries, not just the West Valley mine. She hadn’t discussed that part of it with Jai yet. He would only fight with her about it and insist on the mine covering it and frankly, if he did that the mine would likely fold. She’d tell him later, when it was all said and done and let him roar at her then. She wasn’t afraid of his roaring.
“This was good,” he finally said, after he had nearly demolished the entire tray of food. His tone had improved and while she wouldn’t say he looked joyful, precisely, he at least didn’t look antagonistic.
“Next time, say something if you’re hungry,” she said, and he scowled at her before filling his tea cup with more whiskey and drinking it down. Good. If he was fed and whiskeyed he’d possibly be more receptive to the rest of their day. Ah, which was starting now, if the knock on their door was any indication. She stood up before he did and opened the door, gesturing the entire crew inside as Jai scrambled to his feet, looking at both them and her suspiciously.
“Surprise!” she said, with her best smile, and shut the door behind them.
It had been a damn good meal. He’d only had lobster crab once before in his life - a celebratory dinner, after he graduated, which he’d invited his family to and had saved up for months to afford - and this meal had been better. He hadn’t managed any breakfast or lunch with all of the transfers between the public airship and the Ba Se Sing train and he’d been famished. She’d also given him some of the fire whiskey and normally he wasn’t a big fan - he’d never liked the choking burn going down - but this whiskey was so smooth he’d only felt it when it hit his stomach, the mellow warmth of it sweetly lingering in his mouth. So this is what expensive alcohol tasted like, then. Because he didn’t know a damn thing about whiskey but he thought it was a given that whatever was provided to Poppy Beifong at this hotel was the best.
How must it be to be her? Born into such wealth and privilege. He knew her mother hadn’t been but her father? Born and raised in a first tier family like that.
It would have been so much easier if she had just been what he had first expected, a frivolous rich girl sent by her family to put in an appearance, keeping her out of their hair. She wasn’t that; she was incredibly intelligent, fiercely determined, exhaustively knowledgeable and spirits knew the woman never took no for an answer. He was pretty sure he knew where she’d gotten that from. The miners purely loved her; she could out-curse them, out-bend them, probably out-drink them if her current attacks on the whiskey bottle were any indication. As small and slight as she was, with those short black curls, she could have passed for a boy but there was never any mistaking that she was a woman. How the fuck could she go into that mine with her lipsticked mouth and polished fingernails and get those miners to take her seriously? She gave them all that killer grin of hers that he’d seen on her father, batted her eyelashes and had them eating out of her hand in minutes.
There was a knock on the door and she leapt out of her chair like someone unsavory had grabbed her ass. What the fuck was that about, then? She opened the door and an entire army made their way into the suite, complete with a rolling rack that looked to have clothes hanging from it.
Oh she wouldn’t dare.
The army descended on him and before he knew it he was in the middle of the living room, the furniture moved aside, as he stood on what he very sincerely hoped was a sturdy enough tea table as he was stripped down to his undershirt and shorts while being measured, Poppy talking to the man who seemed to be in charge, looking over several suits that were hanging on the rack.
“I do like this brown but it’s going to go to ash on him,” she said, fingering a dark brown jacket and the man in charge nodded, already whisking through the suits.
“This is the one, I think.” The man held up one in a brown that was almost a cinnamon color.
“Oh, yes. Yes, that’s it,” she replied, nodding. “But keep it conservative, he’s got to read as the head of our mine, I don’t want any distractions from that. No flash. He doesn’t need a different suit for every day, but another one would be good.”
Another man with a clipboard and pen was writing. “Shirts?”
Poppy thought for a moment. “Seven should be sufficient, I think. Undergarments as well as accessories. I'll leave those to your discretion.” She held up a finger. "No need for cufflinks, however. My sister made a pair for him." The man nodded as he wrote it all down and then walked over to consult with someone else.
The man in charge continued to quickly flick through the suits until he found one in a dark green. “I think he’d do better in a richer shade, but this fulfills the brief better than the emerald and it will still be flattering.”
“Yes, that will do,” she said, nodding. “He can wear the same pair of shoes. And the same hat. As I said, I don’t want anything too flashy.”
“I understand,” the man in charge answered, and some man he’d never met before stuck a measuring tape up in his crotch.
“HEY!” he shouted, but everyone ignored him. Including the man with the tape. “Do you mind?”
“I don’t, no,” the man said, with a little wink, and his jaw nearly hit the floor. The man smirked and moved down to measure his knees, of all things.
There was another man tracing around his shoes who then made him lift up each foot so he could trace around them as well as measuring the width of his feet in several places. His head was measured. He was required to put on a shirt, which was pinned in various places as Poppy looked on, nodding, and then he had to put on the brown suit, it getting pinned as well. At least no one stuck anything into his flesh. Mao, who had found a perch on top of a tall, decorative cabinet, licked at his genitals with supreme indifference.
“I’m sorry for the short notice,” Poppy started, but the man in charge bowed at her.
“His Royal Highness is our finest customer,” he replied. “And it is an honor to dress the Beifong family.”
“I’m not a Beifong,” he said, but was ignored. Again.
“We will have these delivered first thing in the morning,” the man said, with another bow, as his entire army moved the furniture back into place, packed up their things and headed for the door. He handed Poppy a card. “If there is anything at all we can further assist you with, please don’t hesitate to call my secretary. She will put me into immediate touch.”
“Thank you again, Mr. Wong.” Poppy dimpled at him and the man looked satisfied as he left.
“Can I get off this fucking tea table now?” He didn’t even know where to start with her. He couldn’t even…couldn’t even begin to grasp at the words he needed to tell her to fuck right off and die.
She gave him one of those looks of hers, the one with the arched left eyebrow, the one that clearly said Honestly I have no idea why I am even associating with you, you ignorant peasant, and snorted. “I just assumed you liked playing king of the mountain, Jai. Why else you would still be up there?” She flicked a hand at him and then turned to speak to the one man who hadn’t left with the rest.
“POPPY,” he growled, but she merely flicked that dismissive hand again without even looking at him and continued to talk to the man.
He took several deep breaths, trying to calm down.
It did not work.
“What the fuck? Are we playing make over the local hick tonight? I didn’t ask for this and I don’t want it! If you want someone else to run your mine, someone who gives a shit about fancy fucking suits then hire someone else!” He was so pissed at her that his chest hurt. He knew he wasn’t elevated enough for her or her family, there was no need to rub his fucking face in it. He was who he was and he refused to be anyone else. Not for anyone. Especially not for Miss Poppy Beifong.
Poppy’s shoulders stiffened. “Jai has a cat’s sandbox in his bathroom, will that be an issue for you?” The man shook his head and bowed. “Perfect. It’s right through there, if you would like to get set up. We’ll be with you in just a moment.” The man bowed again, and without looking towards the coffee table, took a large bag with him into his bedroom.
She turned around and he nearly startled at the fury that had tensed up her delicately pointed chin. “Get off the table, Jai.”
He hated to concede but he did feel ridiculous, standing up there in his underwear. He hopped down and grabbed at his discarded suit. “Listen, I meant what I-”
She cut him off, and her tone was like ice. “Let me make something clear to you. What you wear is your own business, not mine and certainly not the Beifong family’s.” She put her hands on her hips and it took everything in him not to take a step back. “However, we are presenting ourselves together as the public face of not only the West Valley Mine but of the Beifong family as well. You cannot go there tomorrow in an old, ill-fitting and crumpled suit. You will not be taken seriously if you do. And we need to be taken seriously by these people. The survival of that mine and the very people who work there depends on it.”
He scoffed, his own fury tasting like acid in his mouth. “Oh. And what, you’re going to show up there in a dress like that one,” he gestured at her dress, “and that lipstick and those fucking shoes and expect them to take you seriously?”
She stared at him, her mouth drawn tightly, before striding into her bedroom, returning after a moment with a garment bag in her hands, which she unzipped. Inside was a beautifully tailored suit of what he’d come to recognize as Zaofu green, tastefully trimmed in gray, the cut of it not in the least bit revealing. She thrust the hanger into his surprised hands and went back into the bedroom, returning with a box, which she opened to reveal a pair of gray heels, which looked expensive, yes, but were not at all sexy.
Up went that eyebrow again. “There may be times, Jai, when you showing up as the local hick and me showing up as the spoiled rich princess will work to our advantage. People would underestimate the both of us, and we can use that. But this week is not that time. We need to show these particular people that both of us have business degrees, that we are serious and accomplished and will, most importantly, make them money.” She took in a deep breath. “I know you don’t think of fashion, of clothing, to be important. I know that in your day to day working life it’s safety that’s paramount. I am not here to make you into a fashion plate.” She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, if I was, we’d be in Republic City, not Ba Sing Se.” She met his eyes again. “But presentation matters in these kinds of things. This is my world, Jai, just like that mine is yours. You told me that I had to wear boots and a hard hat in your world and I did. And I am telling you that you have to wear a nice suit and get a fucking haircut for mine. Are we clear with each other?”
He stood there, staring down at her, as she met his gaze without flinching. Was she afraid of anything? He didn’t think she was. She made him want to throttle her on a regular basis. He was also painfully aware of how magnificent she looked in the moment, with those black eyes blazing, her cheeks taking on color, her teeny tiny ass radiating outrage.
“Understood,” he gritted out, relying on his own outrage to keep his composure, and she pointed at his bedroom.
“Then, if it isn’t too much trouble, please get dressed and go and get your fucking hair cut.”
He got dressed and got his fucking hair cut.
She’d told the stylist just to clean it up - again, nothing too flashy, nothing that would take more than a comb and maybe a little pomade if the man wanted to get fancy - and to give the man a decent shave. She knew damn well, after all this time, that there was no point in giving him a more elaborate or fashionable cut. Jai spent most of his days with his hair crammed under a miner’s hat, why burden him with a haircut he had neither the time nor inclination to fuss over?
Did she love fashion? Oh, she did. She adored it in a way that probably only Untie Qi really understood. Possibly Naoki as well. (Naoki spent a lot of time in her training gi, of course, but she dressed to the fucking nines whenever she got a chance.) Rose was a loss, Sayuri was a disaster, Orchid skewed towards traditionally feminine and while Iris always looked sharp she stuck to the classics as did Meili whenever she managed to get away from her clinic. San and Zhi spent most of their time in the field and the rest of her generation were either airbenders (wingsuits, ugh, whoever came up with those ought to be buried alive) or children and didn’t count.
However, as much as she loved it herself, she absolutely understood when others had no need for it (Rose, who never left the estate or San and Zhi, who needed protective clothing in the desert) or who simply weren’t worth bothering with (Sayuri, for the love of fucking Raava, sometimes it was hard to believe she came out of Uncle and Untie). She had slotted Jai somewhere in the middle of had no need for it and thus the two expensive but unexceptional suits and the clean with no frills haircut. Although she was pretty sure she was going to burn those ancient dress shoes of his.
The stylist had gone above and beyond the call of duty, however, and had told her that he’d also managed to give Jai a basic manicure, trimming his nails and making sure they were clean. And for that he got a very generous tip as he was leaving, with the promise to come the next morning to give Jai another shave. No one in her family was particularly hairy - the closest, she supposed, was her Uncle Baatar, and even at that it wasn’t all that to write home about - but Jai seemed to get good and scruffy within a few hours.
It was virile of him. Or something the fuck like that.
She thought Jai might come and yell at her for a bit - it always seemed to make him feel better when he did - but he stayed in his bedroom, so she drew herself a bath in the enormous marble tub in her own, sniffing at the various potions that the hotel had provided until she found one that smelled like a sort of spicy jasmine. Moonlit Desire the label read, and she snorted as she poured some of it into the bath, undressing herself and sliding in, wrapping a towel around her head to protect her hair. “Moonlit desire my ass,” she muttered to herself, sighing and closing her eyes. What a fucking day it had been. And it wasn’t even over. There was still dinner to get through, and they should probably go over their presentation for tomorrow just to make sure everything was covered. She’d gone over everything on the airship on the way, of course, and she and Jai had spent the past two weeks making very sure every single thing was addressed and accounted for. The truth of the matter was that she’d come to understand fairly early on that he was really there at the mine to make sure the employees were well cared for. He could and did manage the actual day to day running of the place - he was astonishingly good at it, and after all of this was over and the mine was starting to turn a profit again she had some ideas about him relocating to Zaofu and taking over as the head of all of the Beifong mines - but she was a cold, hard numbers person herself, and that’s where she’d need to step in for this presentation.
She’d been so determined not to fuck this up that she’d called Meng-Meng and asked if she’d be willing to go over the numbers for her. Meng-Meng had agreed and she’d sent copies of everything to Republic City, trying to not let her nerves get the best of her. Meng-Meng had called two days later, told her the numbers were perfect and congratulated her on coming into her own, saying she was sure everything would go smoothly. It had meant something to have Meng-Meng say it, not that she was going to broadcast it around or anything.
She was laying there, eyes closed, actually feeling her muscles start to relax, when she felt the slightest brush of something across her cheek. Her eyes flew open and before she could stop herself she screamed; a real spine-tingler, long and shrill. Sayuri, who had spent most of her seventh year practicing screaming in the back garden of Uncle’s house in Republic City (why? oh who the fuck knew why when it came to Sayuri) would have been proud. At the end of the scream she made a pathetic whimpering noise, which was far worse than the scream had been. That sounded sounded like teenage Orchid, trying to get all of the boys at school to fall over themselves helping her. Fuck’s sake!
“POPPY!” Her bedroom door slammed open and the unmistakable stomp of Jai came hurtling through her bedroom. “What the fuck!”
“Your fucking cat is what the fuck,” she screeched, still not quite herself. “I’m going to drown that evil little bastard!” She grabbed for Mao, who hissed at her as he jumped off the rim of the tub, promptly knocking over half the things on the counter as she leapt out of the tub, ignoring the water going everywhere, still screeching as Mao yowled, her perfume flying off the counter to smash on the marble floor, its scent overpowering the bathroom. “Oh you little fucker! You little fucker!”
The doorknob rattled. “Poppy! Open the fucking door! Leave poor Mao alone!”
POOR MAO? Oh, she’d give him a poor fucking Mao! She lunged for the cat again. “Die! Die! Die!” She managed to get his leg and dragged him into the water as he frantically tried to crawl back up her arm, the cat letting out with a noise like nothing she’d ever heard before before scrambling out, still yowling.
Her bathroom door shuddered alarmingly before bulging inward and then bursting open, sagging from its hinges. “Poppy!” Jai hurtled inside, quickly taking in the situation, her standing there in nothing but the towel around her head, glass on the floor, and the fucking Spawn of Vaatu atop the toilet, claws out, hissing and spitting. “What the…” He trailed off, but only for a second. He first reached out and grabbed her, picking her up and hauling her out of the bathroom, tossing her unceremoniously on the bed before going back into the bathroom. “Mao. Calm down, Mao. Shhh, calm down now. Shhhhhhhhh. Come here, gorgeous, come on, shhhhhhh.”
She lay there sprawled on the bed, trying to wrap her brain around the fact that the man had picked her up like a sack of rice and had tossed her so that he could go and comfort his fucking cat. Her brain finally caught up with her and with a gasp she grabbed at the white silk coverlet of the bed, wrapping it around herself. “Get out of here,” she hissed, but Jai ignored her.
“Mao. Mao. Come on now, shhhh.” His voice was calm and soft. “That’s my boy. Everything’s okay, you just had a scare. It hasn’t been your day, has it? Come on, shhhh, let’s go back to our room, shhhhh.” He continued in this vein for a few moments until appearing in the doorway, a wet Mao in his arms, trying to stick his head into Jai’s armpit. “You got him wet,” he said, glaring at her. “Do you know how hard it’s going to be to brush him?”
Her mouth sagged open. In her mind she came up with a properly scathing retort, but all that she was able to manage was, “Fuck you!”
He ignored her to take his cat away, making soothing noises.
It was at that point that she glanced down and saw the red seeping through the white silk, which when peeled away revealed gouges up her left arm that started to burn the second they were exposed.
It was also at that point that Poppy Beifong, who always had her shit together, started to cry.
Poor Mao was trembling in his arms and he got a towel from his bathroom and started to carefully dry him a little, blotting as much water out as he could without distressing the cat even more than he was. He’d let Mao groom himself and then he’d brush him out once his fur was dry. “You okay now?” He rubbed his fingers along the cat’s jaw and murmured at him, hoping to calm him.
“Okay, I need to go check on Poppy, make sure she didn’t get any glass in her feet. Hang in there, gorgeous.” He pressed the lightest of kisses on Mao’s head and went to go check on the damn woman.
Who was…crying? What? His heart did a flip-flop in his chest and he stared at her as he rushed into her room. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did you step on glass?”
She glared at him from wet eyes and a nose that was absolutely turning red. “What happened? What happened? That fucking cat happened! Look at my arm!” She wailed the last word and stuck her arm out towards him and he winced. Mao had gotten her good. Thankfully he’d clipped his claws right before the trip or else it would have been worse.
Poppy gasped and started to emote fury like an enraged scorpion bee. Oh shit. He’d said the last part aloud.
“I’ll give you a could have been worse!” She started to shift herself off the bed but he grabbed at her feet. “Let go of me, you drooping ballsack of a motherfucking shitbag!”
He just stared at her for a moment, not letting go of her feet. What a mouth on the woman. He found himself oddly impressed. “Hold still, damn it! I need to check if your feet got glass in them!”
“I can check my own feet!” She was still crying, her face screwed up with rage. “Haven’t you done enough!”
He ignored her to thoroughly check her feet. No glass at all that he could see. They’d gotten lucky on that one. He dropped her feet and ignored her sputtering, walking out to the living room, picking up the phone and telling the front desk that they needed someone to clean up the bedroom and bathroom, fix the door, and bring them bandages. Yes, on second thought, a healer would be good. And also some dinner. And more fire whiskey.
“Okay, they’re sending someone to clean up this mess and a healer to deal with your arm.”
She was still crying, but trying to hide it under bravado. “I don’t need a healer.”
“Cat scratches can get nasty. Better to have the healer. Here.” He reached around in the bathroom until he found a bathrobe, handing it to her. “Put that on unless you want everyone and their mother seeing you naked.” He’d seen her naked. Well, not seen seen. He hadn’t been looking, he’d been mostly focused on getting her away from the glass and grabbing Mao before he got even more worked up and started biting as well. But she’d been right there. Naked. Wet. Angry.
Right, no more thinking about that.
“I fail to see why you even care.” Poppy wiped her face on the coverlet. “I’m sure Mao needs you.” This was said in the most spiteful tone possible. “I’ll be fine.”
“Poppy.” He put his hands on his hips and stared down at her. “Mao was really upset.”
“Oh, and I wasn’t?” That little chin wobbled. “But who cares about me, right?”
“Poppy.” He sat down on the bed next to her and she scooted away, refusing to look at him. “I didn’t want Mao to attack either one of us. He’s just an animal, and he was scared. Scared animals are dangerous.”
“I’m dangerous!” she spat out, and he knew that if he wanted to keep his drooping ballsack intact this wasn’t the time to smile.
“Just put on the bathrobe, they’ll be here any second.”
“Just so we’re clear-” she started to tug the bathrobe on “-I’m mad. That’s why I’m crying.”
“Yes, I got that.” He politely stared the other direction.
“And I hate that cat.”
“It was hardly the cat’s fault!”
“It was completely the fucking cat’s fault!” She sucked in a gasp of pain and at that he did turn. She was gritting her teeth, trying to ease the robe over her arm.
With a sigh he grabbed her out of the bed, hoisting her into his arms and taking her into the living room, where he deposited her on one of the sofas before rolling her sleeve up as carefully as he could. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Really? And here I thought I’d go take a stroll down the block.” She yanked the towel off her head and tossed it onto the tea table.
He ignored her to check in on Mao, who was hiding under the bed. He softly closed the bedroom door behind him and was about to answer Poppy when the knock came on the door to the suite.
It was like watching a well-rehearsed circus; the maids that headed for the bathroom to clean up the glass and the water and replace the towels; the other maids that re-made Poppy’s bed and then turned both beds down for the evening, the bellhop who cleaned Mao’s box and left another serving of food in a silver dish, the what he assumed was a metalbender that did something with the hinges and doorknob of the door to put it back to rights and the healer who carefully examined Poppy’s arm with her waterbending, cleaning out the wounds and working with them until the skin had closed. There hadn’t been any waterbending healers where he grew up and he hadn’t been able to afford them when he lived here in Ba Sing Se but he was guessing this particular hotel probably had one on staff. He was fascinated with the entire process.
Poppy had told funny stories about her growing up to the miners after the cave in to distract them but he’d never been good at that kind of thing. Not to mention that most of his stories about growing up weren’t particularly funny. He poured her a large glass of what was left of the whiskey instead, silently placing the tumbler into her free hand while the healer was at work, pacing back and forth, waiting for them all to finish up and leave.
The healer confirmed she’d be back in the morning before they left for their meeting to do another session on Poppy’s arm as even more people showed up and brought them dinner. And another full decanter of fire whiskey. Thank fuck, because he needed it.
And in any case, Poppy hadn’t eaten much lunch and the woman always did get cranky if she wasn’t eating regularly. He guessed it had to do with her being so tiny; how much food could she take in at one time anyhow? He tried to keep at least a few packaged rice balls around the office that he could give her when she went from sarcastic to snarly.
They ate their dinner, both of them silent for the most part, looking anywhere but at each other, putting a good-sized dent in the whiskey. He hated the silence; Poppy Beifong was not made to be quiet. He was the one who had to break it, however. “I know you don’t like the cat, but all of that was an accident.”
She merely snorted at that and toyed with the remains of her braised turtle duck.
“Poppy.”
“You aren’t going to change my mind about him,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. “Not to mention you made it clear who was more important in the moment.”
“Risk assessment.” He sat back in his chair and finished the last swallow from his fancy crystal tumbler. Oh, he could get to like the good stuff, for sure.
“Pardon?” There went that eyebrow.
“Risk assessment. My job. I have to make quick decisions based on an even quicker assessment. It’s like I said before, Mao was scared and I was legitimately worried he’d continue to attack.” He raised both of his eyebrows back at her, he didn’t have the trick of a single one. “I did grab you first, if you recall. I didn’t want you stepping on any of that broken glass or getting attacked any further by Mao.”
“You threw me on the bed.” Her mouth thinned. At some point she’d lost most of her lipstick, although he wasn’t sure she realized it.
“I was in a hurry. You were fine.” He wasn’t going to apologize for it. “How’s your arm?”
“Fine.” She was still pissed, he could tell.
He sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead. He wasn’t in a mood to humor her with a fight. Truth be told, that scream of hers had scared the fuck out of him. Poppy wasn’t a screamer; she’d been genuinely terrified. She might talk shit about the cat - and he knew she wasn’t kidding when she said she loathed Mao - but he had a hard time thinking of her actually being cruel to him. Poppy had a mouth on her and frequently made him want to bash his head into the nearest wall but she wasn’t someone to go after others that were weaker than her. He took it as a weird sort of compliment that she clearly didn’t have any issues exposing him to her considerable ire. She obviously thought he could handle it. Which he could, of course. Just like she seemed to handle him as well.
He knew he didn’t have the greatest of social graces. He was too impatient, took everything too personally. He was terrible at the kind of kowtowing that all of the old guard of the former Earth Kingdom expected from someone like him and had exactly zero idea how to relax. But she usually didn’t seem too bothered by him, which was a good thing. It made his working life easier, that was for damn sure.
“We should go over the presentation for tomorrow,” Poppy said, and he grunted.
“We’ve been over it enough,” he replied, meeting her eyes. “Is that really what you want to do tonight?
“As opposed to what?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Just not that.” She merely flicked out a hand, irritated. “Besides, I’ll need to brush out Mao once his fur is dry, otherwise he’ll mat. And I brought a book.”
There went the eyebrow. “You brought a book.”
“Yes, believe it or not, I can actually read. One of those things they prefer if you go to university, you know.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What kind of book?”
“Fiction.”
“Title?”
“Murder in the Caldera.”
“Murder in the Caldera?” She frowned. “Some sort of detective novel?”
“Yes. The latest in the Inspector Kurata novels. From the Fire Nation? It came out six months ago but I haven’t had a chance to get into it yet.”
“And why not?”
He snorted. “Well, you see, I work at this mine and there was this minor inconvenience that happened, you might have heard of it? An entire section of the mine collapsed?” He shifted his voice into his best impression of Poppy’s own, elevated accent. “I just haven’t had a single moment to myself!” She flashed him the fingers and despite himself, he grinned.
She stared at him for a moment. “Stop that.”
“Stop what? Now what the fuck am I doing?”
He was smiling, that’s what the fuck he was doing. She didn’t like it. It was wrong, for all kinds of reasons, which included the fact that he looked friendly when he smiled, not to mention uncomfortably handsome, which was off the table. Right off the table. The only person she’d ever really seen him smile at had been her sister, and-
“Do you have a thing for my sister?” Her voice rose up at the end, which was not keeping it cool. Get it together, Beifong!
The smile dropped off his face and it went back into its normal thunderous scowl. Thank fuck. “What? A thing? What are we, twelve years old?” His mouth curled up into an even deeper sneer. “Don’t get me wrong, your sister’s a knockout but she’s not really my type.”
Now her mouth was curling up. “A knockout. Really.”
“For fuck’s sake, are you going to be one of those tiresome people who gets jealous? She’s a knockout, it’s not like it’s the first time you’ve heard it.”
She bared her teeth. “First of all, I’m not jealous of any of my sisters. Secondly, the entire fact that you called her a knockout is suspicious as fuck.”
He threw his arms out, his look incredulous. “Calling your sister a knockout is suspicious? I’m guessing people have been doing it all her life.”
“For your information, they have not.”
He scowled and sat back. “That’s just bullshit, Poppy, and we both know it.” They glared at each other. “For fuck’s sake, is this because she was pregnant? Why would that have anything to do with it? Women don’t automatically become hideous when they’re pregnant.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Orchid?” Her voice got a little screechy again. “Are you talking about Orchid?”
“Well who the fuck else would I be talking about? Your terrifying lawyer sister? I only met her the once and she wouldn’t be interested in me, anyhow.” He paused for a moment. “Although to be fair, she’s also good-looking. In a terrifying way, but since you’ve told me she’s married I’m assuming her wife likes it well enough.”
“I WAS TALKING ABOUT ROSE,” she shouted, having heard quite enough about how good-looking Iris was, of all fucking people, and he came right out of his seat to glare down at her.
“WHAT?”
“Rose! You were nice to her!” She stood up too, not that it helped. She was in her bare feet in a bathrobe. He was at least twenty times her size.
His face went through a series of expressions that she’d couldn’t quite identify before he bent down and leaned into her space. “Your sister Rose is not who I was talking about.” She realized that he was angry this time. Not irritated, not annoyed, not impatient, but angry. “I was talking about Orchid, which is whom I assumed you were talking about. I do not have a thing for your sister Rose. I brought her the gem because the miners actually did ask me to give it to her, not because I was somehow wooing her.” He took in a deep breath. “I don’t know what kind of man you think I am, Poppy, that I would take advantage of someone like Rose, but I can assure you, I am not that kind of man.” With that he straightened up and stomped away into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
She gasped, wholly affronted, stamping her foot into the plush carpet. “Don’t you slam your door at me!”
Silence.
She shut her mouth with a snap.
Silence, only broken by the distinct sound of the taps in his bathroom being turned on and water rushing into a tub.
She could feel herself nearly levitating with rage and she stamped her foot again to try and keep her head from exploding.
His bedroom door flung open and he stomped out clad in only his hideously wrinkled trousers, right past her, to snag the cut glass decanter of fire whiskey and one of the matching glasses, stomping past her again without even acknowledging her presence, slamming the door behind him once again with his foot.
“OH FUCK YOU,” she shrieked.
Silence.
“I hope you drown in there! You and your fucking cat!”
Silence.
“Do you hear me, Jai? Do you hear me?”
Silence.
“And that’s my whiskey!”
Silence.
Well, two could play at that fucking game, couldn’t they? She sat down on one of the sofas, crossing her arms and staying silent.
Silence.
Here was a little something that Poppy Beifong’s nearest and dearest all knew about her: she hated to apologize. It made her have to admit that she wasn’t always right, and she loathed that. Admitting she wasn’t always right made her vulnerable, and she did not subscribe to being vulnerable with regards to anything. Also, if she was going to be brutally honest with herself, it made her feel badly for being an asshole, which was not a feeling she was comfortable with and therefore apologizing was to be avoided as much as possible.
It wasn’t like anyone else ever apologized for anything in her family. (Uncle Bolin didn’t count, he married in.)
Okay, so fine. Granny had impressed upon her own children as well as her grandchildren the importance of apologizing. Granny had been open about her past and told them all that she’d been a delinquent little shit who had scarred her own sister’s face and due to the whole cock up surrounding it (which included Great-Grandma Toph just casually breaking the law as the chief of police of Republic City, which was possibly one of the Beifongiest of the Beifong things to do in all of Beifong history) she and Great-Auntie Lin hadn’t spoken for over thirty years. “Do you want that? To never speak to your sisters for over thirty years?” Granny had asked her once, when she and Iris had had a terrific fight when they were still girls.
Iris? Eh, thirty years of not speaking to Iris might not be all that bad.
Okay fine, it would suck.
Jai wasn’t one of her sisters, but he was an extremely valuable employee and therefore she needed to step up and do the mature thing and apologize in order to maintain a professional relationship with him in order to keep things running smoothly at the mine in order to…oh fuck it, she’d lost the thread of it. She’d quite possibly had a little too much whiskey and her arm ached and the shit-sucking cat had genuinely given her a scare. In other words, the past hour had been difficult. But she didn’t actually want the man to drown.
She got up and went to his bedroom door, calling through it. “I don’t actually want you to drown.” She did not say it about the cat. Insofar as she was concerned, the cat could get run over by a Satomobile and she’d throw a party.
Silence.
“Jai, don’t be like that.”
Silence, except for what sounded like water sloshing a little in a tub.
“Jai.”
Silence.
“I know you can hear me!” She slid down his door to sprawl gracelessly on the floor, sighing as she leaned back against the door. “Jai.”
Silence.
She closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. “Fine. I’m sorry I said I wanted you to drown.” Still not apologizing for saying it about the cat, though.
Silence.
“Jai. Come on. I said I was sorry. It’s been a trying couple of hours.”
The door yanked open suddenly and she tumbled backwards into his room, legs flying up as she squawked inelegantly.
“Oh, so you were the one that got hijacked into standing on the fucking tea table while strange men fondled your crotch with a measuring tape? Don’t start with me about a trying couple of hours, Poppy.” He scowled down at her, dressed in a matching hotel robe, whiskey decanter in his hand. “What are you doing on the floor?”
She returned his scowl but, as always, he seemed unimpressed. “Is there any of that whiskey left?” He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and then bent over to scoop her up with one arm, depositing her on the sofa before sitting next to her, handing over the decanter. After a moment she put it to her mouth and took a swallow. If he could do it then she could do it. “You know, it’s fucking rude to just pick me up whenever you want to. You only do it because I’m small. You’d never do it if I were one of my sisters.”
He scoffed and then took back the decanter, taking his own swallow. “Sometimes I have better things to do than stand there and argue with you for an hour over the least little thing. It’s just quicker and easier that way.”
“I do not argue over the least little things!”
He turned his head slowly to stare at her. “Riiiiiiiight.”
She snatched the decanter back. “Oh shut up.” She nearly dropped it, however, when he started to laugh. She’d never heard him laugh before and the sound of it shook her harder than she cared to think about, never mind admit.
“Pretty sure the only thing that’ll stop you from arguing is death,” he said, still with that deep, slightly raspy chuckle, shaking his head. “Although I don’t know. You’d probably be arguing from the grave.”
“Oh, just tell us how you really feel,” she groused, pulling the decanter away from him as he reached for it but his reach was at least twice hers and he snagged it and made a sizable dent. “Pick me up whenever, steal my whiskey, send your fucking attack cat to murder me.”
“Just a quick reminder that that cat is a Beifong. If he’s a murder cat then talk to your family about it, not me.” He took another swallow of the whiskey, still grinning at her. Not too much whiskey, not yet. Still in the feeling relaxed area rather than the oh shit I’ll regret this in the morning area. “Let me see your arm.”
She curled up her lip at him and he waved the decanter at her, laughing when she tried to grab at it. “Asshole!”
“Show me your arm,” he repeated, and that little Beifong chin jutted right out. He would lay the entirety of his next month’s salary that her parents had probably told her not to do something when they wanted her to do it when she was a kid. He shrugged. “Or don’t, same to me.”
The arm was practically thrust into his face. He gently took it and examined it. Still a little inflamed, but yes, the skin was completely closed and free of infection. Waterbending healers were clearly worth the money. He let it go and took a deep breath.
“I have an aunt.” He waited for her to make a dismissive comment, but she was silent. For once. “Meera. My father’s youngest sister. She’s…” he paused for a moment, thinking of how to approach it. “She’s forty this year, but…I don’t want to say she’s a child, she’s clearly not, but she has limitations. She’s never been able to live on her own, for one thing. She’s capable of certain things, she’s always helped around the house and she’s very proud of her vegetable garden, and she loves cats.” He scoffed. “She was always taking in strays. She’d probably even like Mao. But living on her own was never something she was going to be able to do. She lived with my grandmother until my grandmother died when I was four and then moved in with us. She still lives with my mother today.” He shot a glance her way and Poppy simply gazed back at him, still quiet. “She doesn’t handle change well, or too much information, she can manage small trips to the market with a limited amount of things to buy but she never did manage to learn to read or write. Although maybe part of that is because my grandmother never bothered to send her to school, I don’t know. She’s not a bender, not like my father was. She was always there when I was growing up, always very loving with us kids. Happy, for the most part, even when things weren’t going so well.”
“I see,” Poppy said, and when he shot her another glance she nodded.
“People take advantage of people like her.” His jaw hardened, and he took in a deep breath. “Men. Men will try and take advantage. She doesn’t understand if someone is using her, she takes everything everyone says at face value. She’s been taken advantage of before. Sexually, I mean. She…she’s not…” He took in another breath and nearly flinched when Poppy took his hand in both of hers.
“I’m sorry I said what I said to you about Rose. We’re all overprotective of her, but that’s not an excuse.” Her mouth twisted a little. “But clearly you know what it means to be overprotective as well.”
He nodded. “I do.” She nodded at him, sharply, and then looked away. He didn’t think apologies came any easier to Poppy Beifong than they did to him, so he let it be.
They were quiet for a long moment before Poppy spoke again. “Do they still live in your little village, then?”
He grimaced. “In the house we grew up in. Owned by the mine. Two bedrooms, one step up from a hovel. No running water and you can forget electricity. We were all crammed in there, all of us kids and Auntie Meera and my parents. I want them to move but my mother won’t hear of me spending any of my money on her.” His sigh was more of a grunt of exasperation. “If it were up to me I’d get them the fuck out of there. It’s a dead end place. My sister Varsha left after me, she did well in school and passed the civil service exam. She married a few years ago and moved to one of those towns inland of Republic City, actually. She and her husband both work in civil service, they have a little boy and another one on the way.”
“Really? Near Republic City?” Poppy looked surprised at that.
“Yeah. An hour or so east by train, apparently. I keep telling myself I’ll get over there and visit her and my nephew, but I’ve never made it.” He grimaced. “She likes it there, her husband’s a United Republic citizen, they have a house with electricity and plumbing and a garden, even.” He scoffed. “They’re doing well for themselves. It’s a good-sized farming and trade community on the river, no mines.”
“Huh.”
“Rajit, my brother, he’s a pretty decent earthbender, he apprenticed as a stonemason. He makes good money, has steady work.” He shook his head. “We don’t hear much from him. It hurts my mother, I know, but I guess it’s better for him that way.” He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep swallow of the whiskey. “My baby sister, Sita, is still at home, but she’s hoping to go to university next year.” He grunted. “At least my mother isn’t arguing with me over paying for that.”
“Ba Sing Se or Republic City?” Poppy’s eyes narrowed the way they did when she was thinking about something.
“I’m not sure. She’s talked about studying business but I think that’s because she feels obligated to make money to help my mother. She loves studying, though. She’s smart. I swear that kid reads a book a day.” He found himself smiling. “All of the great literature, poetry, that kind of thing.” His smiled broadened, thinking of how Sita’s enthusiastic words spilled onto the paper in all the frequent letters she sent him. “I can’t tell you how many hours I spent in used bookshops when I was in Ba Sing Se, spending money I didn’t have, buying her books I could ship back to her.”
Poppy nodded decisively. “Republic City. They have an excellent literature program at the university. Not to mention I have family there. They’d keep an eye on her, make sure she finds her feet.” As he opened his mouth to protest she waved him off. “Young girl from a rural village, in the big city for the first time? Jai. Either of those cities would eat her alive, you know that. Student housing’s as hard to find there as it is in Ba Sing Se, I’m guessing, but my family can help.” Her dimples appeared. “Don’t worry, none of them are as pushy as my mother.”
He only rolled his eyes at that and took another swallow of the whiskey, passing it to her as she held a hand out. He normally bristled at the idea of any kind of help, any kind of charity, but he’d been worried himself, thinking of Sita trying to manage by herself in a big, uncaring city. He took the whiskey back to take another swallow. He had no idea why he was talking about any of this with her. They’d never gotten anything close to personal like this before. Before he realized what he was doing, he started to speak again.
“My parents were both miners.” He glanced at her and she nodded. He’d discussed it briefly in his job interview, so he wasn’t surprised she’d know about it. “My mother stopped working in the mine when I was born, I’m the oldest. My Dad…” he took in a breath, trying to find the words, “…he was a good man, he worked hard and was a good provider, he really cared about his family. But when I was eleven there was an accident at the mine. Gas was released, and he was right there.”
“Ah,” she said softly, those black eyes never leaving him. Well, she’d know what he was talking about. She’d made it her business to know, something he’d come to learn and respect about her.
“He didn’t die, but there was damage. Physical, of course, his lungs were done for, he could hardly breathe. Problems with his nerves, too. But the gas, it changed him. He became a completely different man, almost overnight. Angry. Bitter.” He sighed and looked down at his hands. “Violent.”
“Jai,” she said, and put a hand on his arm.
“For the most part he left Varsha alone. But he’d go after my mother sometimes and for some reason, fuck knows why, Rajit. Rajit was only eight when the accident happened, I don’t…I don’t know. I don’t know why he went after Rajit, I just don’t get it. I never have.” He met her eyes then. “But I couldn’t let it happen.”
Her hand slid into his hand, those slender, soft fingers tightening into his. “No, you wouldn’t, would you.”
He shrugged. “I was good-sized, even then. It hurt, but it would have hurt Rajit more. Not to mention my mother.” He scoffed, trying to push back the emotion that was trying to take over.
“What happened with your father?” She stared down at their entwined hands.
He took in a deep breath. “I was fifteen, and my mother was very pregnant with Sita.” She turned her head and he grimaced. “She was my father’s, but I don’t think she was made from love.” She took in a quick intake of breath but kept still. “I was at school, along with Rajit and Varsha. My mother fought for that, you know. The assumption had always been that I’d go to work at the mines as soon as I’d turned twelve or so like everyone else in the village but my mother wouldn’t stand for it, said I was too smart, that I needed an education.” He scoffed. “She got a lot of shit over that, from a lot of different people.” He let a breath out with a hiss. “But anyhow. All we knew was that a neighbor came to get us from school, told us there had been an accident and that our father was dead and our mother was in labor. Sita was born that night. Early, she was pretty small, but strong, and both she and my mother made it.” He reached up his free hand and massaged his forehead. “Officially my father slipped and fell, hit his head and died that way. But my mother took me aside before I left for university and told me it had been my aunt.” He closed his eyes and breathed in. “He’d gotten angry about who knows what and went after my mother, kicking her in her stomach, which is why she went into labor early. She was trying to protect herself and Sita when my father dropped like a stone. And there was Auntie Meera with one of the iron cooking pans in her hand. She’d hit my father with it. ‘Stop it, Kabir,’ she kept saying, over and over again.”
“Spirits, Jai,” she breathed.
“I’m the only one that knows.” He turned to her then. “My mother’s never told my siblings, she never wanted them to know. Of course there was a token investigation but the village healer - who I am guessing must have known, I can’t think getting bashed in the head with an iron pan looks like a fall - just agreed with my mother’s version of what happened. He knew what was going on in the house. Healers usually do.” He shrugged, trying to make light of the situation. “We buried him and things were difficult in many ways but in more ways they were better. A lot better.” He shook his head. “The mine, there was nothing. They didn’t care. He was paid a pittance after the accident and when he died they tried to take that away from my mother, tried to kick her out of the house, too.” He scoffed. “I had to go there, to the mine offices, and demand they give my mother his pension.”
“Fifteen year old Jai,” she said, and he could hear the laughter lurking in her voice. “I can only imagine.”
He surprised himself with a chuckle. “Let’s just say that I spent two weeks making a real fucking nuisance of myself outside their offices and when that didn’t work I started to rile up the miners themselves. Most of them knew my father, of course. I organized a walk-out, got most of them to up and walk out of work in protest.”
She laughed outright then. “You pissed them off so much they gave you the money just to shut you up?” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Oh fuck me, I wish I could have seen it. That’s amazing, Jai.”
He slid his arm around her shoulder, grinning. “It’s a gift.” He snorted. “What can I say? Although I’m pretty sure you have the same gift. Pissing people off.”
“So true,” she agreed, not sounding apologetic in the least. “Pissing people off, anything with numbers, earthbending.”
He knew what kind of an earthbender she was, he’d seen her in action. Metalbending as well. “Best earthbender in your family?”
She cocked her head even deeper into his shoulder, thinking. “Well, there’s no getting around my grandmother and her sister. The famous Beifong sisters are famous for good reason, believe me. They’re in a whole different league. And of course my great-grandmother Toph, although she died before I was born, I never met her. My Uncle Huan is a pretty astonishing bender, although he’s a lot like Rose. Different. He doesn’t use his bending in ways that people expect. There’s no discounting my father and his twin, either, my Uncle Wei was a pro-bender for a lot of years. And my cousin San - that’s my Auntie Opal’s oldest son, you saw her and my Uncle Bolin at that power disc game, they came from Republic City - is something else. San does it all. Earthbending, metalbending, sandbending, even lavabending, he learned that from Uncle Bolin. I’ve never learned lavabending, but Granny taught me to sandbend and I learned the seismic sense from her as well.” She pursed her lips. “Although I think San or Uncle Bo would teach me lavabending if I asked.” She flicked out a hand, a dismissive gesture he’d seen her grandmother and sisters do as well. “But out of my sisters? I’m the best. Orchid isn’t actually all that powerful of a bender. Well. She’s good for your average bender, I guess, but not for a Beifong. Iris is fairly decent, although she’s never bothered to learn to bend sand or the seismic sense. Rose does her jewelry, so her fine control over metal is pretty much unmatched by all of us, and her seismic sense is damn good. She rarely earthbends, though. But I do well with it.”
She wasn’t bragging; he’d never heard her brag, although she certainly could if she wanted to. “I’m no great shakes myself. Just learned from family, and we’re all miners, so. I’m too old to learn anything new, probably.” He shrugged, bumping her head a little and she pursed her lips, humming.
“That’s not true at all. Look at all the Harmonic Convergence airbenders, most of them were adults when they got their bending and they didn’t know a thing about it. And my great-grandmother taught all kinds of already established earthbenders how to metalbend.” She jabbed an elbow into his side. “You just need a teacher.”
He grinned. “Are you offering?” He snagged the decanter with his long reach and took a few more swallows. He really needed to slow down with it. Between the two of them they’d nearly demolished it and he was beginning to suspect that underneath the smoothness there was a lot more potency than he’d expected.
She just laughed, though. “Fuck no. I’d be a terrible teacher. But my grandmother’s an excellent one. I bet she’d work with you. My father, too, if you wanted.” She gave that hand flick again. “He’s the one who told my mother to make you spend the night, by the way.”
He drew back at that. “Wait. What?”
She snorted before sitting up and taking the decanter from his hand. “My mother has many, many strengths, but she’s not really very maternal. Don’t get me wrong, she loves us. Very much so. But she’s worked all our lives, it was Daddy who stayed home with us and raised us. He’s the one that’s empathetic, the people person, not Mommy. He took one look at you coming off the tram and told Mommy you needed a good sleep and a day off.” She waved the decanter at him before drinking. “She took it from there, of course, you can blame her for the rest. But it was Daddy who told her to do it.”
“Huh.” He wouldn’t have called that, not in a million years. Her father had been friendly, when he came for dinner, one of those people for whom socializing seemed to come easily. He knew enough about the mines and the city of Zaofu itself to know that it was her grandmother and mother who were calling the shots, however. “So the striped pajamas were her fault.” He went to take another swallow but realized that Poppy had finished the rest of the whiskey. Typical. “Is she the one who picks out your nightwear as well?”
Poppy scowled. “Fuck off.” Her upper lip curled. “For your information, I get cold when I sleep.”
“So an extra blanket’s off the table? You have to wear some old grandmother’s nightgown?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but my nightgowns are couture.” Poppy’s glare had some heat to it.
He scoffed. He was not afraid of a little Beifong heat. “Is this your way of saying you are paying a fuckload of money for something my grandmother would have made at home out of an old rice sack?”
She sailed right past annoyed into fury again, channeling her inner scorpion bee. Spirits, but she was sexy when she did that. A teeny, tiny, nasty, lethal little scorpion bee, stinging venom. Quite a temper for an earthbender. “Fuck you sideways, Jai!”
“Promises, promises,” he muttered. Wait. That was probably inappropriate. Good thing they were out of whiskey.
“You wish, little man,” she threw right back at him before scowling at the decanter. “Did you finish off this whiskey?”
“I believe it was you that finished it off.” His lip curled up of its own accord, mirroring hers. “Little man. That’s rich, coming from someone the size of a ten year old. What’s the point of being as short as you are? You’re an adult. Have some self-respect. For yourself.” Hmmm. That didn’t come out quite as expected.
She had this particular look about her, one where one eyebrow arched up and her mouth pursed, a look that made sure the receiver understood they were the stupidest person alive. He was that person in the moment. “You have some self-respect.”
“I have plenty of self-respect.” He gestured at himself. “I’m tall, aren’t I?”
She leaned forward and jabbed one perfectly polished red fingernail into his bare chest, his hotel robe having slid open more than he had realized. “That’s heredity. I can’t help my heredity. I never asked to be so short. And why are you so tall anyhow? It’s patently ridiculous.” She scowled and deepened her voice. “I’m Jai, and for fun I like to impersonate trees.”
He grinned at her. “At least I don’t impersonate pissed off little scorpion bees.” She sucked in an outraged gasp at that, and he laughed. “See? Just like that. Buzz buzz! How dare you call me a scorpion bee, I’ll sting you to death! Buzz, buzz! I drank all the whiskey!”
He sat there, newly cut hair tousled, his robe gaping open at the chest, legs slightly apart, and he was laughing at her! He called her a scorpion bee! She was his boss, or had he conveniently forgotten that? Not to mention the fucker had drank all the whiskey.
He was so ridiculously tall and so ridiculously handsome that she wanted to rip that grin right off of his face. How dare he! Nobody laughed at a Beifong! And especially nobody laughed at her nightgowns. They were beautiful! They were warm! They were couture! “And fuck you very much for insulting my nightgowns!” She jabbed at his chest again. He was very nicely furred there, all sort of peasantly manly or something. Pleasantly. Peasantly. Whatever.
The infuriating man merely sneered, however. “Are we back to the nightgowns? I thought we’d moved on. Well, get it out of your system then, scorpion bee. Tell me all about how magical spirit dragons shit out the special warming fabric, just for you.”
The entirety of her hand was pushing onto his chest. His chest wasn’t budging, and she wasn’t quite sure why she was pushing him, but he’d called her a scorpion bee and had insulted her whiskey and drank her nightgown and his eyes were like the dravite that Rose had embedded in the cufflinks she'd made for him, dark brown but not black like hers and her mother’s and her sisters’ (except for Orchid and her jade Beifong eyes, but fuck Orchid and her pretty face and her big tits anyhow) but a dark warm brown with hints of gold and amber in them, ringed around with thick, long black lashes. Other people would kill to have those lashes, and he had them and did he appreciate them? She knew he didn’t. Who did he think he was, with his eyes like dark crystals and his obscene lashes and that sensual mouth, hidden under frowns and the usual scruff of his beard.
“How dare you,” she meant to snap, but it came out in a whisper instead, and she went up on her knees to try for better leverage to push him but the man wasn’t just as tall as a banyan tree, he was as unmovable as one, and he brought his hand up to cover hers, his palm so large it nearly covered her entire hand, never mind his fucking fingers. He could splay a single hand and cover the entirety of her back, she was sure of it, and just as she thought it she felt the pressure of his free hand sliding across the thick cloth of her own bathrobe, fingers curving slightly around her ribs.
“How dare you,” he returned, and then his mouth was on hers.
Contrary to what most people might think, Poppy Beifong was not used to getting her way. Well. She was used to getting her way, of course, but that was about family and business. Being the youngest of four sisters - of the beautiful, competent Orchid, the fierce, intelligent Iris, the fragile, gifted Rose - had taught her a lot about how to fight in order to keep up. She had to be more competent than Orchid, more intelligent than Iris, more gifted than Rose. She was the best overall bender of the bunch, true, and she’d understood young how her precise, analytical mind worked. She liked things to be correct, damn it, and she liked things to make sense and to be profitable. She’d never been afraid to go toe to toe with anyone with regards to business, and she’d always taken true pleasure in being underestimated. It got her blood running. She enjoyed putting people in their place, and she was well on her way to getting the Beifong name and fortune, once one of the most renowned and influential in the Earth Kingdom, back on top. There hadn’t been anybody as good at it as she was since the death of her not particularly lamentable great-great grandfather, Lao. She was changing that, however. Orchid could have Zaofu, as far as she was concerned. She was a Beifong, and that meant something, never mind what her great-grandmother had done to diminish the family name.
She’d do just about anything for the Beifong family. What she wasn’t used to doing, however, was anything much for Poppy.
This man, with his long, banyan root fingers wrapped around her body, with his open mouth tasting of whiskey and his freshly shaved cheek smooth against hers, was not for the Beifong family. He was for her, for Poppy, for the furious scorpion bee who had neither the time nor the patience for romance or tenderness or soft, sweet words. She knew better than to do what she was doing, her brain trying to throw up increasingly more desperate demands to stop, and she ignored it all to press closer into him, thrilling to his savage grunt as she brushed her belly against the swell of his erection.
“I asked you first,” she pulled away from that greedy mouth to say, but he didn’t bother to answer her with words, just leaned down to bite her neck, fingers tightening when a moan escaped her. “Did you hear me, Jai,” she managed, but then he shoved the collar of her robe to the side and followed it with his mouth and she ground herself into his erection as retaliation.
“Is that how it’s going to go,” he said into her ear, and then bared her left breast for a single moment before taking the tip of it into his mouth, drawing it through his teeth. Oh thank fuck he wasn’t one of those useless men who liked to brush kisses or nuzzle, she loathed that kind of thing. Not that she didn’t appreciate foreplay as much as the next girl, but she wanted to be fucked, not have somebody blowing air all over her like she was a campfire needing to be kindled, thank you very much. She could kindle her own damn self.
“Bite it,” she managed, and he made a huffing sort of sound of amusement before closing his teeth on it. Not enough to draw blood, but enough so she’d feel it and her back arched up. Oh shit oh shit, fuck the man, why would he have to be as good at this as he was with everything else? “More,” she said, and pounded on his chest with the hand that wasn’t trying to find its way past the robe to his thigh.
“You’re the boss,” he said around her nipple and then he stood up with her, her legs automatically wrapping themselves around his hips. He started to walk towards his own room put she pounded on his chest again.
“Not with that fucking beast watching me,” she said, and he pivoted on one heel and turned them towards her room, fumbling with her door and then kicking it shut behind him. “Get me on the bed, get this robe off of me.”
He yanked at the tie of her robe as he stood her on the bed and then scowled as he tried to undo the double knot she’d put in the sash. “Fuck it, can’t get it, do it yourself,” he said, undoing his own sash and shrugging out of his robe, letting it drop to the floor. “Can’t you even manage a simple knot?” he asked, grinning as she smacked at him again, sliding a hand up her thigh to flick at her clit with his index finger, ignoring her curse as she struggled with the tie, finally undoing it and yanking her own robe off with his help. She took him in - legs up to his chin, well defined stomach muscles (cum runnels, an older woman she’d worked with at Global Industries had called it once after too many drinks, and the name had stuck in her head ever since), and a cock that was big enough to please but not big enough to tear her in half.
She pointed at it, already gleaming and wet at the tip. “Acceptable.”
“Good. I’ll expect a raise, then,” he said, and tugged at her ankle, tumbling her down to her back.
She waited for him to move, to do something, but he just stared down at her for a moment before walking away. She opened her mouth to say something indignant but he spoke before she could manage more than an incredulous scoff. “Hang on.” Her closet door opened and then shut again and he reappeared with the red heels she’d been wearing earlier in the day. He had them both hooked over one finger. “Give me a foot,” he demanded, and she was so surprised that she pointed her left toes up at him, speechless as he carefully but expertly slid her feet into both of the heels, even managing, despite the whiskey, the tiny buckles to secure them. He smirked down at her.
“Now then. Where were we?”
“You want to do this with my heels on?” She flicked up an eyebrow as he slid onto the bed and took one of her feet into his hands, cradling it delicately.
“I knew you were a smart girl,” he said, and then began to caress her feet.
“Is this some sort of a weird…oh fuck. What are you doing? Jai?” Her hips arched up as he pressed his lips along the top of her foot, exposed by the thin straps of leather that connected to the strap around her ankle. He ran his tongue along the same straps and she gasped. It felt electric, what he was doing. Was she actually into this? He certainly seemed to be, for a man who complained so frequently about her footwear. “I thought you hated my shoes.”
“That’s on you, not me,” he replied, and lifted her other foot.
“Are you going to…oh spirits, what are you doing to me? Shit. Shit. Are you going to suck my toes?” Oh she was absolutely into this. What the fuck was going on? She was so wet she couldn’t believe it of herself.
“Not with a closed-toe pump, Poppy. I take back what I said about being smart.”
“Fuck you!”
“We’re getting there. Keep the shoes on, though.” He raised his head and met her eyes, his gaze so dark and hot she actually whimpered, like some stupid, brainless schoolgirl. “I like the shoes, Poppy.”
She gasped in a breath but he wasn’t waiting for her, he had already pulled her legs apart and hooked her knees over his shoulders. “Is that how this is going to - oh shit. Jai!” He’d gone straight for her clit and didn’t even bother to look at her when she lightly kicked at his head. “This is a one time thing,” she said, writhing into him. Fuck the man, really! Did he have to be so good? There was none of that wishy-washy tongue lapping and swirling that men seemed to think was all that. No, he was digging into her with his nose, two (or was it three?) of those long fingers already inside of her, pushing and twisting. He didn’t bother to answer, just bit her clit and held her still when her body tried to come off of the bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cried, babbling really, as her thighs started to tighten around his head. “Don’t you dare stop, don’t you dare, don’t you-” she lost track of what she was saying as she forgot to breathe for a moment, her body tensing up. “Please,” she moaned, and later she’d kick herself in the ass for it but in the moment she needed him to keep doing it, he wouldn’t stop for a joke, would he? He wouldn’t leave her like this, so tense she couldn’t even manage to breathe, her body straining.
He didn’t say a word, but the hand that wasn’t inside of her grabbed her hand and held it as he bit her and then sucked her so hard she screamed and then came, her thighs shaking and her brain, for once, shutting the fuck up.
Fuck, she’d come so hard and so fast she’d practically gushed with it, dousing his chin and neck, her body near to collapse after being strung so tight he’d worried, through the absolute high of making her come undone, that he might have hurt her. He pulled his fingers out of her slowly - she was tiny and tight, even there, but she’d taken three of his fingers without a problem and even just the thought of it was making his balls ache - and settled her down into a more comfortable position.
Next time, he wanted to see her face when she came. Her eyes were closed, her breathing still unsteady and whatever had been left of her lipstick was gone. The red heels were sprawled gracelessly on the bed. He had never enjoyed women who were passive or controlled in bed, who kept their feelings in check. It was sex, wasn’t it? The whole point was to feel it, not worry about proper decorum or any of that shit. He wanted a woman to be ready for him but hours of teasing and gentle foreplay usually made him antsy. He had suspected - hoped, fuck it, he’d hoped - that she wouldn’t turn out to be one of those women. As usual, Poppy Beifong did not disappoint.
He’d been wanting to touch her for such a long time. Since that first moment he’d walked into his office and she’d taken off those ridiculously gorgeous olive leather shoes, fully prepared to go barefoot into his mine, snapping out that line about Chunso’s mother fucking a wolfbat that made all of the miners fall in love with her on the spot. She was trouble with a capital T, he knew that. He’d always liked the ones that were trouble. A personal failing, which usually came back to bite him in the ass. This one, though. This one couldn’t bite him in the ass. Not with all those people at the mine depending on him.
Not with her.
She took in a deep breath and opened her eyes, that one eyebrow scrolling up. Every single time she did that he’d get half-hard, not that he needed help in the moment. “I suppose you think that was worth a raise,” she said, with one of her little disdainful sniffs, and his cock bobbed eagerly.
“At least ten percent,” he shot back, and grinned when she sniffed again.
“That remains to be seen,” she said, sitting up. “And you better not get anything on these shoes, they’re custom.” She nudged at his hip with said shoe. “Get on your back.” She pointed towards the middle of the huge bed and then did that little hand flick when he didn’t move quick enough for her liking. He maneuvered himself into where she wanted him, accepting her irritable nudges and one of her high-handed glares when he dared to smirk up at her. “Don’t move, Jai.”
“Don’t move?” Her breasts were small, true, more teardrops than globes, her nipples a sort of rosy brown that was distracting him. He enjoyed breasts but they’d never been the be all-end all when it came to attraction for him. Her ass, though. Her ass was glorious. It was shaped like a plump little moonpeach. Spirits but he loved a woman with a moonpeach ass. He wished she’d turn around so he could get his hands all over it.
“Put your hands above your head.”
He complied, and she tsked at him impatiently, moving them where she wanted them.
“Now. Don’t move, Jai.”
“Am I allowed to breathe?” he threw out, just to piss her off, and she took one of his nipples between those red, red fingernails and pinched it, hard. His hips bucked up and she immediately slapped at his cock.
“I said no moving. Can you or can you not follow a simple direction?” Up went that eyebrow again. He wanted to move, just to have her slap him again (she could slap his cock as many times as she liked, spirits) but if she wanted her fun he’d let her.
“You’re the boss,” he repeated, and fuck if she didn’t smugly purse up that little bare mouth. Oh, he was in for something, he knew it. Scorpion bee. She ran one of those tiny hands up along his cock, gripping him hard around the base and sliding her nails up, and as he hissed she shot him a look. “You didn’t tell me to be quiet.”
“True,” she replied, and then hovered above him, her mouth a mere breath away from his cock, which was trying desperately to go the distance. “I’ll allow it.”
“Very magnanimous,” he said, and then caught his breath when she put her mouth on him, forcing his body to stay where it was. She wasn’t going to make this easy on him. Not that he wanted her to, but it was the principal of the thing. “I didn’t know you had it in you.” That earned him another glare and a little smack to his balls. For fuck’s sake, he was going to come in about two seconds flat if she didn’t let up on him. “Take it down a notch, Poppy,” he said, and she met his eyes for a moment before pulling herself away from his cock. “Give me a minute.”
She watched him and her smile, when it came, was slow, her dimples appearing out of nowhere. Those dimples didn’t show up on her that often but when they did he’d have to check himself. Fuck. He’d been kidding - no, not even kidding, more like deluding - himself that he wasn’t falling for her. He had it bad for her, so bad. She drew herself up and straddled his hips in one quick move and he startled, barely managing to stay still. “Don’t tell me what to do,” she said, and the smile shaded into a wicked grin and the next thing he knew he was inside of her, his cock sliding in about an inch. He let out a strangled noise and she put a finger across his mouth. “Don’t move, now.”
Sweat sprang out across his forehead and in the curve of his spine as she began to lower herself, inch by inch. He couldn’t help himself; he let out with a groan and she raised herself a bit, sliding up instead of down, where he needed her. “Ah ah ah, you aren’t moving, are you, Jai?”
“I’m still waiting for something that would necessitate it,” he replied, knowing she’d take it as a challenge and she did, tossing her head and lowering herself even further, creeping down until she’d managed about halfway. He’d started gritting his teeth.
“Necessary yet?” she asked, and clenched herself around him, hard enough that he thought he might actually pass out if he kept himself from coming much longer.
“I’m sure you’re doing your best,” he said, and bared his teeth.
“Are you really sure?” Another head toss but he wasn’t fooled, her skin was flushed and her breathing had picked up. “I wouldn’t want you to be unsure, Jai.”
“I’m always sure,” he managed, as she very slowly continued to move until she was settled at the base of him. He’d never been promiscuous, not exactly, but he’d slept with his fair share of women and none of them had ever made him quiver the way she was doing, her thighs clamping into his sides and that moonpeach ass nestled on top of his balls. “You seem a little unsure, though. Not quite sure what to do now that you hit bottom?”
Her grin struck like lightning and with that the Lady Poppy Beifong, youngest and most contentious of the infamous Zaofu Flower Garden, great-granddaughter of Toph Beifong herself, started to ride.
He’d kept himself still, she had to give him that, although his breathing was labored and sweat was pouring off of him. He was so lean - she’d lay her fortune he’d been a skinny kid who had grown into a skinny man, only filling out a bit as he matured - but there was no place that wasn’t muscled. She’d never seen him do any kind of exercising but he was one of those people who was always in motion, even when sitting behind a desk with paperwork. It’s why she had wanted, so badly, to see if she could keep him still.
She’d also wanted to make sure he knew who was in control. Because she was in control, not him with his razor-sharp tongue and the way he’d shove his hair back when he was exasperated and the volume of his voice when he was pissed (the man could be heard fifteen levels down the mine, she was sure of it) and that ferocious scowl. Fuck, he’d been so kind and respectful with Rose and had even fallen to the ground when her little nephew had pelted him in the leg with a mud pie, declaring that Narin had gotten him and then chasing him around with pretend growls as Narin had giggled in return, as her mother and Orchid had watched him, exchanging looks with each other and making her want to scream. She didn’t want his softness! She didn’t need his tenderness!
“I don’t need you,” she hissed at him, and he stared into her eyes as she continued to rock on him, a steady rhythm, her breath starting to hitch. “Do you hear me, Jai?”
“I hear you, Poppy,” he said, not breaking eye contact.
“I don’t need you!” She pounded her fists into his chest. “I don’t need anybody!” To her horror, she felt her eyes start to fill with tears. It was the whiskey. She shouldn’t have drunk so much. Spirits, he was holding himself so still for her, she could see the terrible effort it was taking, but he was holding still for her. For her. “Do you hear me, Jai?” she whispered, and she wanted to stop, kick him out of her room, but he felt so good inside of her.
“I hear you, Poppy,” he whispered in return and then he did move a little, his head tipping backwards as she clenched herself around him, as hard as she could. She could forgive that though. He wasn’t made of stone, after all. His hands were locked into fists, still above his head. She could have held him down with some metal - the silver knobs on the dresser would have done just fine - but this was better.
“This doesn’t mean anything at all,” she said, and tasted salt as a tear tracked its way down her cheek. “It’s just sex. And I’m only crying because I’m drunk.”
“Yes, I know,” he said, and then he moved, bringing up his hand to blot carefully at her tears. She slapped at his hand, but he was undeterred, bringing his other hand to wrap it around her waist and they stared at each other until she looked away, unable to bear what she thought his eyes were telling her. He had no right to look at her that way. She started to slide off of him but he shook her, however, and she automatically looked back to see that smug look on his face that infuriated her. He scoffed.
“Come on, scorpion bee,” and there went that sneer, “do you want me to fall asleep here?”
“Oh fuck you,” she snarled, but he easily pulled her up until she was nearly off his cock before dropping her, cupping her ass in his hands as she cried out.
“You keep saying it, but I’m still waiting.”
She knew he was giving her an out, allowing her to save face, and she hated him for it. She did. She hated him so much. He wasn’t allowed to look at her like that, like he was what, fond of her? (More than fond of her, her brain tried to interject, but when had she ever listened to herself?) She knew how to fix that, however, and so she leaned back, pulling his cock along for the ride, and he exhaled a grunt. She moved her leg and then slid her heel along his chest, pushing his nipple in with the dangerously narrow heel and that did the trick, he sat up and in one smooth movement, pulled her off of him and flipped her on her back, hoisting her legs back up to his shoulders before entering her again in one solid push, which felt so amazing she let out with a shout.
“Don’t take too long about it,” she said, hoping he’d fuck her as hard as he could and she wasn’t disappointed in the least. He was fast, and so big inside of her, and merciless, and now he was the one holding her down as she felt her orgasm start to wind through her as her back arched up and she’d probably be sore in the morning, it’d been longer than she cared to think about since she’d done this, she didn’t fuck with Zaofu boys, her ironclad rule since she was a teenager, and oh fuck, he was good, there was some twisting thing he was doing with his hips and it was coming, it was, she was, and she cried out as she came again, so deep and so long that she forgot how to breathe for a moment and then he gritted his teeth and froze inside of her, his exhale rough as she actually felt him come.
“Poppy,” he whispered, and then took her into his arms, rolling them both to their sides, holding her as she continued to shake with the aftermath of it all and she couldn’t help a moment of weakness, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding on to him. She was absolutely tender inside but his cock was slowly softening, easing out of her gradually as they both tried to remember to breathe. Breathe. She needed to breathe.
He lay there for a few moments after they’d both come, trying to pull himself together as his cock eventually slid out of her, without much luck at all. He wanted nothing more than to roll over and go to sleep, but he needed to get the shoes off of Poppy and there was a considerable wet spot, which he was pretty sure neither of them wanted to sleep in. Poppy herself was sprawled in a boneless heap, eyes closed, her breathing just starting to quiet. Fuck, but she was beautiful.
He was in for it now.
With a mental kick to his own ass, he untangled her arms from his neck, sat up and leaned over, carefully unbuckling each shoe and sliding it off, checking for damage. They seemed to be okay, although the light wasn’t great or anything. He heaved himself up off the bed, ignoring Poppy’s irritated murmur, placing the shoes next to her closet and going into the bathroom, where he drank two quick glasses of water and re-filled it for her, bringing it back to the bed and propping her up, handing it to her. She scowled at him suspiciously - what was he going to do, poison her post-coital hydration? The woman was impossible! - but drank it all and even managed a muttered thanks. Next was a quick wipe down of himself and then a clean, dampened towel for her.
He’d had a lover once who had been irritated with him for not just going to sleep after sex. What could he say? He was a man who believed in finishing things properly, and that included after care. He loathed leaving a job unfinished, and giving a woman some water and making sure she got cleaned up a bit and then holding her until she slept was how you finished. What, was he going to just leave her there alone, shoes still on her feet, with his spunk drying on her skin, thirsty and uncomfortable? He wasn’t that kind of man.
He rummaged around in her perfectly unpacked drawers, careful not to mess up her things, until he found her nightgown. It clearly was for warmth, although it was still soft to the touch, made of what he thought might be very, very fine wool. Maybe later he could see about getting her something more conventionally sexy, although truth be told he didn’t mind the granny nightgown. He just liked giving her shit about it. He pulled it over her head and settled it down before picking her up. Her eyes fluttered open.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Taking you to my room.”
“Why the fuck are we going to your room?” She managed a glare. He wanted to kiss the glare right off of her but suspected that would only piss her off more. Which could lead to more fun, but they did, after all, have a business meeting in the morning. Later, then.
“Do you want to sleep in the wet spot? I can leave you there, if you insist.”
“Hmph,” she said, and left it at that as he carried her across the suite, easily sliding her in to the bed that had already been turned down for him. There was a mint on the pillow, which he unwrapped and popped into her mouth before tugging her nightgown down where it had rucked up about her hips. He slid in after her, pulling her close until she automatically nestled into his chest.
“There,” he said, and took a deep breath. “Go to sleep, Poppy. We have to get up in the morning.”
“We aren’t doing this again,” she mumbled into his chest, around the mint. “Do you hear me, Jai? This was a one time thing. Don’t get any cute ideas. It was just lust and too much whiskey and it won’t happen again, even if it was good.”
“Okay,” he said, and let his hand stroke down her back. “You’re the boss.”
“I mean it,” she yawned, and practically climbed into his chest. Poppy Beifong was, apparently, a snuggler. Who knew? “We should have your family to dinner.”
“Who are you, your mother?” He kissed the top of her head to let her know he was just kidding and she grunted what might have been a complaint but also might have been contentment. He was going to choose the latter.
“Daddy can take your auntie around his garden. And I can talk to your sister about Republic City University.”
“I thought this was a one-time thing,” he murmured, and shifted a bit to get more comfortable, keeping her in his embrace. “Just a lust and whiskey thing.”
“Don’t question me. It is.” She smacked at his chest half-heartedly and then yawned again. “That cat had better not come near me.”
“Go to sleep,” he whispered, and kissed the top of her head again, closing his own eyes. He made a mental note to stop off at the apothecary the next day to pick up some herbs for the usual men’s birth control tea. It never hurt to get backup to whatever she was taking, and he hadn’t bothered since he’d started working at the mine and his social life had gone from lukewarm to frozen.
Because they were going to do this again. For the rest of their lives, as far as he was concerned. Poppy Beifong could fight it, but he knew how to get around her. He gently covered her hand on his chest with his own and hoped she wouldn’t notice that Mao was laying on the pillow next to her head.