AN: Oh god another one hnngh~ so depraved~

This one sorta-kinda relates directly to the previous chapter. After one or two more, they'll turn into actual oneshots, hah~ I just need to kick start this with a few linear chapters or else I'll start confusing myself ;_;
FAIR WARNING: This chapter might be a bit... risque for some, eehee~ But hey, teenagers have pretty nutty dreams.
D-don't ask me to explain what I mean by "nutty".

Resounding Dreams
All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible. -T. E. Lawrence

From behind, a hand ran through his hair, one that he assumed was Asami's. As he leaned back into the touch, an arm snaked around his middle, another hand slithering up to trap Mako's chin in place with its terrifying, definitely not Asami-fingers.

Mako wanted desperately to break away from the alien embrace, to drive his fist into the face whoever was violating his personal space. But, to his horror, he couldn't move a muscle. All he could do was stand there, cringing and praying for the end.

The hand running through his hair slid down the side of his face, the snake-like fingers stroking Mako's sideburns tenderly. It traveled down, tracing lines on his face and the nape of his neck, slithering, slinking down his body until he heard it, resounding, almost thundering-

"Hotman..."

Mako woke with a start, practically launching himself out of bed and stumbling towards the window, covering his mouth with one hand. He blinked several times to focus his vision, bracing a palm against the windowsill to regain his balance. His white tank top clung to his body, drenched in sweat.

"Shit..." he cursed lowly, his breath hot against his palm. The cool breeze against his face was soothing, but it failed to slow his rapid heartbeat. Without thinking, Mako stepped into his street pants, shoes and socks, and staggered out of his room, a pair of sleepy emerald eyes boring into his back as he went.

Just... just calm down, Mako, the amber-eyed teen tried reassuring himself as he wandered through the halls of the stadium, unsure of where he was going. It was a nightmare; you've dealt with worse, so don't get so shaken up by something that's not even real, damn it

Soon, Mako found himself at the front entrance of the arena, the dim lights of the lamp posts bringing him out of his stupor. Groaning, he sat down on the steps, taking deep breaths.

It was all that creep's fault. If that asshole hadn't been so touchy-feely with him the other day, he wouldn't even be in this state. Having two girls fawning over him was enough to give him a headache, why did this guy have to barge in and start giving him not only headaches, but nightmares? It was just too much for Mako to bear.

And to top it all off, he had Bolin to look after. No matter what, his brother was top priority. He didn't want to get angry at the girls for not realizing that; they had no idea just how important Bolin was. He could, however, blame the majority of his problems on Tahno. Mako had no qualms about that. Blaming things on Hasook had started to get old, anyway.

Even so... Mako knew he couldn't blame things on other people forever. Everyone had their own baggage, so pinning his problems on others wasn't fair. The majority of this mess was on him in the end; it was his fault that Korra was feeling conflicted, his fault that Bolin was feeling conflicted. Mako should have been able to keep himself from getting into such a dilemma in the first place.

But he knew for a fact that his nightmare could be blamed solely on Tahno. That creep just wasn't satisfied with plain old mind games, was he? He just had to throw in those... those weird flirtations of his. And what's with him and his complete disregard for personal space? Was that normal for him or what?

Whatever the reason, Mako was determined not to be played for a fool. Tahno must think he's hot shit, being on a whole different level than Mako. He must think that he can just push Mako around with his creepy tendencies.

Well, Mako thought, balling his hands into fists. We'll just see about that.