Make My Move

LunarianPrincess

Summary: Korra gets more than she bargains for on her first trip to a speakeasy.

Warnings: Cactus Juice. Kissing.

Disclaimer: For Bryke's sake! I don't own Avatar: The Legend of Korra, honestly!

Just a heads up, my inspiration was Grace Potter and the Nocturnals' Paris (Ooh La La). If you want to get in the mood, listen to that, Hot Summer Night, and Medicine by the same band…that's the type of music I was imagining in this speakeasy... Now on to the story!

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Korra looked around at the unfamiliar scenery, nearly overwhelmed by the sensory overload. Everywhere she looked there were new sights, sounds, smells, tastes, feelings, it was fabulous. She had begged and begged Bolin to bring her here, to the Arena, and now that she was finally here, she wasn't sure if it was excitement or nerves that were making her hands shake and her stomach clench. Someone jostled past her, shoving her out of the entryway and into the foyer proper. She couldn't even find it in her to shout after them, make a rude gesture, or even get mad, she was just so excited! They hadn't had to wait in the giant line that snaked around the squat corner building like a misshapen Unagi, Bolin had simply nodded at the guy wearing a wide brimmed hat low on his brow and the guy had stepped aside to let them pass.

Stepping carefully in her low heeled white boots, she followed after Bolin as he made his way through the square upper area to the stairs that led to the tables and lower, to the dance floor. Fighting for her attention were the group of people with instruments on the raised dais in the very back of the club, the dancers on the cleared floor in front of them, the flashy groups jostling for position at the bar where scantily clad men and women (really it was nearly scandalous!) fetched pitchers and glasses of sparkling liquids, and the clusters of people intimately huddled around small booths or pedestal tables. All of these were concealed behind the steam, smoke, and general dimness in the place, giving them an ethereal, hazy, otherworldly cast.

Bolin leaned down and whisper-shouted that it was still early and that it wouldn't be so empty for long, the crowd would pick up later in the evening. She nodded mutely in response, not possibly believing that even more people could be shoved into this tiny slice of heaven. Her eyes flicked around as the smile on her face grew, she felt the excitement build, this was so alien, so exciting. She could feel something begin to pound in her chest under her ribcage and realized it was the thump of the percussion, resounding through her body. The high, close collar of her dress tickled the bottom of her chin as her head turned this way and that to catch the flashing of bright colored silk in the light, or the explosion of light as a flashbulb went off, the glitter of jewels under the flickering electricity, the slick-backed hair of men she just knew weren't on the up-and-up.

Korra followed after Bolin as he headed down the stairs to the second level, making his way towards a pedestal in the corner that had a few stools around it. There were two people already at the table, and Korra smiled as she saw Bolin's cheeks go red when the shorter one turned to look at them over her shoulder. Asami's luxurious dark hair had been pulled back with matching combs, highly polished and made of some precious material, Korra was sure. They glittered amongst the dark gleams of Asami's wavy hair. Korra's smile dimmed a bit as she realized her own chestnut waves seemed dull in comparison, the soft blue suede headband with the ivory charm just off center seemed trite and cheap, not nearly as impressive as gleaming semi-precious combs.

Korra's jealousy grew as she surveyed Asami's daring dress, where Korra's neck and shoulders were completely covered by the soft blue silk of her dress, Asami's shoulders and neck were completely bare. Korra felt her cheeks heat as she surveyed Asami's strapless dress, it was made of two different types of fabric, one a light shimmering fabric in maroon, which made up the basic sheath of the dress that ended at the knee, and a thicker, darker fabric in a deep, blood red, which draped around Asami's hips and ended in a tassel that hung down in the front of the dress. Korra's own cheongsam, in a light blue silk with white suede trim and dark blue embroidery seemed prim and pale in comparison. But she couldn't know that the sleeveless top drew eyes to her strong arms, the tight blue silk hugged her lush curves in all the right places, and the knee length, with almost indecent slits up the thighs, allowed tantalizing views of her tan, toned legs, and that she was drawing her own share of stares.

Korra threw her arms quickly around Asami causing the older girl to laugh. Asami arched one of her curved brows at Mako who had hung back silently, like he had nearly the entire night, starting when Korra had arrived at the Arena earlier that night. Bolin had raved about Korra's appearance, praising her for letting her hair down (literally) and telling the Avatar how nice she looked, Korra's apprehension had started to fade, but then Mako had just given her the once over and silently nodded in acknowledgment, and the anxiety was back. Even now, at the club, where girls were dressed much more conservatively than her, she still felt out of place, and Mako's silent gaze hadn't helped much.

As Korra pulled back from Asami, she noticed the girl's mocking expression and turned to look at Mako who was eyeing the pair of them complacently. She tried to resist the urge to pout, but her lower lip extended even as she turned back to Asami's lilting voice asking a bunch of questions. Just his golden eyes on hers had caused her heart to speed up, her skin to feel flushed, and her cheeks to heat just slightly. She turned quickly, grateful for her quick reflexes, so he wouldn't notice her reaction to him. Since he was so unfazed by her, she couldn't stand the thought that she was far more invested than he.

If only her eyes had remained on Mako for a few seconds longer, she would have noticed that his eyes zeroed in on her pout, the weight of his gaze on her lips almost palpable, before it smoothed over her figure to caress the skin exposed by the slit in her dress. Korra's secret desire for Mako's approval would have been satisfied and then some. As it was, her attention was fixed on Asami, who welcomed them to the club. The Arena. It had been slyly named, drawing inspiration from all the pro-benders and the hangers-on who frequented the joint. Korra's eyes sparkled as Asami handed her a tall glass with a bright pink juice inside. She lifted it to her lips as Asami handed a similar glass with a golden drink in it to Mako.

"What's this?" Korra's voice was curious after she took a sip. Her tongue darted out to catch the tiny bit of juice that clung to the corner of her mouth, savoring the sweet flavor with the tang that made the bridge of her nose tingle.

"Lychee juice, with some ginseng, mango, and cactus juice" This last bit was said quickly and Korra was surprised to see Mako's eyes widen a bit. Their gazes clashed as she brought up her eyes when he took a preemptive step towards her. He froze as she looked up at him inquisitively, but when he didn't do anything further she shrugged, lifting the cup back to her lips as she turned her gaze to the gyrating, seething mass on the dance floor.

The music was so odd, there was a driving beat, but it didn't follow a strict progression of rhythm, like the music she was used to. This was free and wild, an unrestrained melodic improvisation. Her head tried to bop along to the beat before she laughed and gave it up, the new music was stuff she heard on the radio in passing in town, but she wasn't real familiar with it. She turned back to watch Asami, her eyes quickly picking out that negligent slouch, and her back relaxed a tiny bit, the aloof set of the shoulders, and she leaned this way. She tried to imitate Asami so that she looked like she belonged here, not like some naïve, wide-eyed babe fresh off the boat.

Asami handed Bolin a miniature cup, then took her own. Korra watched as Asami knocked her little cup against Bolin's then lifted it to her lips, drinking it down quickly, even tilting her head back to drain the liquid as quickly as possible. Korra was surprised that Bolin had mimicked the strange ritual. Before she had a chance to ask about it, Asami had gripped Bolin's wrist and dragged him towards the floor, where there were even more people than when they'd arrived. Bolin's smile widened as Asami placed his hands on her waist and began to dance with him, they were in such close quarters that they brushed against each other. Korra let out a laugh as his cheeks reddened and his eyes widened when Asami got even closer and then began to move.

She set her empty glass down before clambering onto the stool next to the silent giant. She picked up another tall glass full of the sparkling pink juice, the last full one on the table. There seemed to be 3 tall empty glasses, 1 with pink residue from the drink she'd just finished, but the other two had a frothy light brown residue and a golden liquid in the very bottom of the cup, like the glass she'd given Mako. She'd have to ask what that stuff was later. There were also 5 empty mini-cups, one each for Asami and Bolin…and who had drank the other three?

"Hey Shai," The stoic man nodded at her, his eyes fixed on his young charge, while in his hands was a half-empty glass of the gold stuff. Shai was Asami's body guard, about 10 years older than Asami, he looked out for them all when they were together. He was an earth bender, and had been hired by Asami when the Equalists had begun to ransom the kids of nobility and industrialists, trying to fund their movement. Korra liked him, he told funny jokes and never treated Korra differently just because she was the Avatar. She supposed his attitude came from the fact that he worked for the kid of one of the richest, if not one of the most powerful, people in the world.

Shai's silence allowed her to go back to her visual feast. She devoured the sight of all the different people around her, here people didn't dress as "water tribe" or "fire nation" or "earth kingdom." Here people wore crazy colors, sumptuous fabrics, daring designs, and mingled bender and non-bender alike. Korra's heart soared as she looked around at all the different people, there was no discrimination or "oppression" just a bunch of young people having fun. She sipped at her drink some more, frowning when she realized it was empty. She let out a little laugh and shared a glance with Shai. She wondered if that was concern in his gaze, but before she could examine it further her attention was caught by the new beat of the music, it was deeper, more sensuous, and less playful. She was enjoying the music, her eyes closed and body swaying when her throat went dry as she felt a familiar presence slip closer, nearly touching her. Her eyes popped back open and she shivered as his arm brushed her shoulder as he set his empty glass on the table, amid the rest of the empties.

"Do you want another drink?" Mako's low voice slipped through the cacophony of the bar to thrum through her. Her skin prickled, and she swallowed with an audible click in her dry throat as she nodded, not daring to turn around. She felt him move away, and the stiffness began to leave her. She hoped he hadn't noticed her awkwardness. She cursed herself. It hadn't always been this way. She and Mako had generally had pleasant interactions, aside from their few spats or sniping at each other when aggravated at early practices.

Then summer had come along a few weeks ago, Korra had walked into morning practice with two topless benders. She herself had worn her normal top, but she had switched the heavy pants with the fur pelt and boots for lighter, looser pants, with a leather belt and sandals. Bolin's topless self hadn't shaken her too much, the surprise had been when she had caught sight of Mako's toned chest and her mouth had gone dry. For some reason she had stuttered and tripped her way through practice, easily explaining away her lack of focus with the hour of the morning (a full hour earlier than anything they'd done before) but inwardly she could admit that the sight of Mako's naked chest flustered her. Even worse was the direction her thoughts headed anytime she thought about it now.

Korra took advantage of the fact that Mako was occupied with making his way through the crowd to get to the bar, to get her fill of looking at him. She could feel her cheeks flush as she gave him the once over. He wore a vest, a dark charcoal grey, that left his toned arms exposed, but his customary red scarf wrapped around his neck preventing her from seeing that tantalizing corded muscle that she longed to sink her teeth into. Shaking that thought from her head her perusal continued, the pants he wore were a deep brick red, a couple shades darker than his scarf, and tighter than usual. Her mind wandered into a very naughty place and she hiccupped in surprise. Korra bit her lip when he turned around abruptly, his smoldering golden eyes meeting her limpid blue ones. His eyebrows came together quickly and she glanced away, her eyes quickly gluing themselves to the table top, following the aimless pattern etched in the cheap wood. She couldn't have known that her eyes had looked drowsy and inviting, that the intensity and depth in them scared him, made his breath catch, made his heart beat just a bit faster. That she had looked downright seductive, tempting, provocative. A slew of other lascivious phrases passed through his mind as he watched her sink her teeth into her bottom lip before staring at the table top.

Mako was quickly through the thickening crowd and back at their table, and she accepted her drink with hearty thanks but desperately avoided his gaze. She sipped at her drink, her gaze leisurely traveling through the club now, absently wondering how it had gotten even hazier inside the club, why the lights seemed to move with her eyes. She found that her body had begun to sway with the music again, she had finished her drink and found herself staring at Mako as he looked around, detached and aloof. He wasn't exactly haughty, but she could see that he wasn't entirely comfortable here.

Before she could think her impulse through, she had grabbed his hand was pulling him down to where Asami and Bolin were still wrapped around each other in the dance. Surprisingly he didn't shake her off violently, refuse to be budged, or rebuff her. He simply followed her, making her smile grow as they finally made it to the smooth dance floor. The frenetic music makes her want to move and she begins to jolt along with the people around her. Bolin laughs at her, but she doesn't feel offended, she just smiles at him moonily, whipping her hair over her shoulder as she flicks her feet out like the people around them. She still has a grip on Mako's hand and pouts at him when she notices his other hand is in his pocket and he's not moving in the dance with her.

"Not much of a dancer." His simple statement is whispered into her ear in response to her questioning look and she feels a chill slide down her spine. She knows he only leaned down to ear to be heard. Not to breathe over-hot air into her ear, over her neck, and into her hair. It wasn't so his low voice can thrum through her to settle in her pelvis again. She lets go of his hand in order to turn and face him and grab his shoulders. But in the minute that her hand is free, someone else grabs her. The big guy in the short squat hat doesn't notice her growl, or the fact that she's tugging against him. Her resistance is nothing new, this guy is used to a little spunk, in fact his eyes light up at her struggles.

He drags her a few steps away, his hand tight around her wrist. She feels irritation splash through her as this guy leers at her, his eyes sliding over her in an eerie manner. She feels repulsed when he leans down to sniff her hair and steps forward so that her breasts begin to flatten against his chest. Korra tries to get grounded but for whatever reason, her center is always just the slightest bit…off. She is just starting to feel the prickle of unease when the guy slides his hand over her hip and to hold her snuggly at the base of her spine. About to cry out in revulsion she feels the air grows hot behind her. She smiles.

"Let her go." Mako's voice is calm as ever. The big guy barely spares him a glance. But Korra sees Bolin and Asami on either side of the guy. She lets out a giggle, oh this is gonna be good.

"Get your own hussy, this ones mine." The sleezeball's voice is grating, a nasally whine that makes Korra's nose scrunch up. Then she realizes what he said her "Hey!" covers the sound of his shocked cry when Bolin and Asami each grab and arm and yank him away from her. Korra's eyes widen as she stumbles back only to be caught by Mako. She is grateful for his steady feet, and his hands on her arms, providing the stability she needs. She smiles up into his worried eyes before letting her heavy head drop onto his shoulder and letting her attention get back to that jerk.

She watches as the guy elbows Bolin in the chest then turns to take a swing at Asami. She dodges and he turns back to get Bolin but is taken by surprise. He only makes a wheeze when Asami slams the blades of both hands to the back of his neck and Bolin shoves a fist directly into his diaphragm. The guy's eyes roll back and he hits the ground unconscious, Shai is already there dragging him away and throwing him at the guards of the clubs. Bouncers, Korra remembers, giggling at the mental image of them bouncing away with the guy between them.

Korra isn't surprised that no one interfered, that no one stopped either of them, no one cried out for police, the music didn't even stop. The music! Her head pops off of Mako's shoulder and her whole body jolts. She starts to walk away but there is resistance. She looks down and notices that she has Mako's wrist gripped in her right hand. She frowns at it thoughtfully, ignoring Asami and Bolin as they chitter and laugh at her before going back to the dance. The music is still going so she holds Mako's wrist in her hand, ignoring the fact that he isn't dancing, as she bops along to the beat.

Korra feels the music change as a girl gets up to the mic, growling and cooing into it, in contrast to the hard beat and sharp horns. Korra grabs Mako's free arm, shaking his arms to and fro and she stomps her foot lightly in time to the beat, each time letting her hips get looser, until she is swaying her whole body with the beat. She doesn't see that Mako has an incredulous half smile as she dances with him, swaying bonelessly in his arms. As the lady began to sing something about breaking the law her ankle rolled and she just knew she was going to fall. She knew this in an odd, detached way, and her eyes slid closed as her body rocked in the direction of her fall. When she felt firm, warm muscle encased in fabric instead of tile, her eyes popped open.

Her body was now plastered against Mako, and her momentum caused them to sway together, she grabbed his shoulders and allowed her body to sway with the beat, still stomping her right foot to the beat. Mako's hands slid from her waist to one on her back and one on her hip as he widened his stance to accommodate her shimmys. She tilted her head back to laugh, exuberance filling her as she danced to the sumptuous beat as the girl's voice rose and fell. She slid one hand into Mako's hair and let the other fly into the air, winding and twining around as she moved it to the beat. She let out a whoop, releasing Mako's hair and sliding her hand down his neck over his shoulder and down to grab his hand before spinning herself around. She lets out a giggle when she wobbles and his hand is on her waist again as she sways. She leans closer to him, so close their noses touch, and she loves that when his eyes are this wide she can see all of the color, that beautiful molten gold.

She is hypnotized. She stares blankly at his eyes, her head beginning to feel fuzzy and her lips going numb. She freezes, blinking rapidly, trying to clear her head as it clouds. Her eyes slid closed and she began to feel a bit nauseous, her eyelids feel so heavy and as she looks up at Mako, he notices the fear in her eyes.

"Are you ok?" Her fearful eyes and the slow, boneless shake of her head as she gripped his shoulders again brought him up short. She saw his eyes flick behind her just before her eyes slid shut, missing the quick words he mouthed as her heavy eyelids refused to open again. Her legs refused to hold her weight and she suppressed a scream as she felt them buckle. Mako quickly swept up the dizzy, wobbling girl, making his way out of the bar and out onto the street. Korra fisted her hands in his vest, her head lolling against his shoulder and rubbing against his scarf. She fights the rising nausea that comes from the movement while being dizzy, she tries to imagine being on a boat or riding Naga, but her head is fuzzy and her body rebels.

Korra blesses the fact that they are so close to the real arena, that Mako is strong enough to carry her the whole distance, that she is away from all those people, the cloying smoke, the pounding music, and that Mako hasn't started making fun of her yet. She is a bit confused, but the clear night air is beginning to clear the cobwebs from her head. She is desperate to figure out what is going on so she starts to go over everything that happened in that club. Was she poisoned? Could that be it? She replays everything that happened… and groans. Cactus juice.

Cactus Juice. She remembers the hilarious stories Master Katara would tell about her brother and that stuff. She groans and feels Mako's hands tighten on her, feels him lift her closer, feels him pull her in tighter, feels him hunch in around her. If she wasn't so nauseous and dizzy, she'd be swooning. She takes a few more deep breaths, willing this terrifying numbness to leave her limbs, and prays that she won't humiliate herself in front of her team captain.

Korra hears a familiar voice as Mako begins to climb the steps. She is grateful that he answers smoothly, there is nothing hesitant or suspicious about his answer, and the person allows them to pass. Thanks to the fresh air the desperate nauseous feeling is beginning to fade, but it leaves her body hungry. His arm is under her knees, curled around her waist, and his hand rests solidly in the small of her back. But the Cactus Juice has started to affect her in a new way, she feels each sensation more deeply, and is shocked to notice that Mako's thumb is stroking her waist from its position on her back. She purrs in response to the stimulation, and buries her head further into the crook of his neck. She feels him stiffen in surprise, his body stock still, frozen on the steps.

He begins to take the stairs a bit quicker, and Korra is grateful that the disorienting nausea is gone, or she's sure she'd have lost what little she ate today. She tilts her head, the tip of her nose sliding along his neck, burrowing beneath the soft red scarf. He makes a noise in his throat, and though she can't hear it, she can feel it through her nose. She hums in response, her hands restlessly shifting in her lap. She lifts one heavy hand from her lap to the shoulder opposite her face, gripping it desperately as she lifts her face so her tongue can dart out and touch the indentation of his neck where it meets his jaw. She tastes his moan, elated and shivering.

He stops and she lets out a mewl of anger as he lowers her in his arms, shifting his hands and trying to stand her up. When she resists him, he takes a few more steps and lowers her to the sofa in the wide open loft. She holds onto his shoulder, refusing to let go, he huffs in what she thinks is exasperation and kneels next to her.

"You'll be ok, Korra, you're just drunk on cactus juice" His voice is low and soothing, calming. And he follows the words with a brotherly palm on her forehead, smoothing the sweat dampened locks off her face. She slides her hand over his shoulder, fisting it in his hair before dragging his face to her lips with surprising force. She watches his eyes widen comically from beneath heavy eyelids, her eyes sliding close as her lips finally find his. She takes advantage of his shock to devour his mouth. It only lasts a few seconds before he stiffens and pulls away. "Don't Korra, you're drunk, and I don't want you to regret this."

His voice is thick and she nearly crows in triumph, he isn't nearly as unaffected as she imagined. She kisses the only part of him she can reach, the underside of his chin. She flicks her tongue out to feel the rasp of his stubble against it. She hums and desperately sucks his skin into her mouth, tasting, licking. His head falls forward on a groan and she greedily kisses every inch of him. A second later a shocked moan bubbles out of her when he latches his mouth onto hers, quickly taking control. His hands come down on either side of her body, keeping him just out of reach, their lips are the only thing connecting them. She desperately tries to get her body to move, but it's melting into the couch with a combination of the lustful languor inspired by his kisses and the beguiling bonelessness brought on by the cactus juice.

He pulls back, his golden eyes nearly glowing in the darkness. She stares at him, the redness of his lips, the tiny bruise forming on the left side of his chin, and the crazy mess of his hair. He has never looked more attractive, and her mind fills with lewd suggestions. She pouts when he stands. He takes a step away, breathing heavily. Korra whines a bit in the back of her throat, desperate to follow him. Make him follow this through.

"We need to stop, goodnight Korra." She frowns deeply as he takes a seat in the wicker chair across the low lying table from the couch she is currently reclining on. Her eyes become even heavier and she curses as she starts to fall asleep. Her last sight is Mako touching his lips reverently, his eyes low lidded and burning into her own. Triumph. It may not happen tonight. But she knows now, there is passion in him. And she will be the one to enjoy it. Soon.

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Please read and review! Let me know if I should leave this as a one shot or if you think I should continue. -LP