"Purple"

The bruise was many colors, purple and blue and black, but it was mostly purple. It was dark against the skin below his eye, dark underneath Korra's fingertips, dark even though the sun was setting and the sky was losing its brightness.

"This is what happens when I leave. You get hurt," she whispered. Mako firmly held her waist as she raised herself up on her toes and kissed the discoloration with a flitting breath. "Maybe I shouldn't leave you alone again."

"Maybe you shouldn't," he said, knowing that she would anyway. It didn't matter what he said. But still, she was here now and she was his. He tilted his head down and his lips pressed against the base of her throat. He sucked lightly, his bottom lip dragging across her skin as he moved his kisses higher, up to her jaw, her ear. He bit down softly on the lobe.

"I missed you," she said, turning her face into his and running one hand through his soft, black hair. The other rested on his hip.

"I missed you, too," he mumbled into her hair.

"I can tell." Her hand had drifted down, brushing against his pants, feeling him hard underneath. She pressed her hand closer, and he tilted his face away from her, a quiet blush rising on his cheeks.

"Sorry. You just got back. You're tired. I'm sure you don't want to—"

"Don't apologize," she said. She caught his mouth with her lips and smiled into the kiss before she spoke again. "We've exchanged enough of those in our lives already." Korra pushed him back, farther, farther, until he was pressed hard against the wall, and she crushed herself against him. There was no space between them and why should there be? Her fingers ran up his skin underneath his shirt, and she felt the muscles, tight and defined; an anticipating wave rushed through her, collecting down deep.

Slowly her hands raised his shirt up, sliding smoothly up his abdomen, over his chest, until she held the worn, white tank top in her hands. Her eyes raked over his body, and she ran one finger, slow and teasing, from the hollow of his neck down, down, down… He wanted to drink her in, and his lips covered hers yet again. He pressed himself against her and laid a hand on her waist, tugging at her clothes. She lifted her shirt over her head between kisses, and he touched her skin softly, admiring its color and warmth. His fingers glided over her back, appreciating the muscles and bones and strength she held there, the strength that only he knew. He unhooked her brassiere, and it fell to the floor. Her nipples were hard.

He ran his thumb over one of them, and she released the tiniest of noises. Her breast filled his hand, and she leaned into him, letting him touch her because it had been so long, too long. Her eyes urged him, and he felt her longing, her burning. She needed to be touched. She needed to be put together again.

So did he.

She guided his other hand a bit lower, and it reached down, fingering the band of underwear beneath her pants. He caught her impatient sigh with his mouth and let her yank her own bottoms down. She shimmied them off her hips to the ground. They barely made a sound as they hit the wood. All they could hear was their breath and all they could feel was the pounding of their hearts, beating together, pressed together. So close. He felt her trembling, or maybe that was him? It burned. They burned.

Mako inhaled her, and he held her face in his hands and he stared at her, into her. She did not look away from him. Her eyes were big and blue and beautiful, and he felt the need to memorize their freckles. It was always like this, like they were running out of time; the stories they sang when the lights dimmed were quick and wanting, and there were no answers to their questions.

Korra gasped as he lifted her up, gripping her naked thighs, holding her close to him, feeling her fully in his hands. Her arms wound their way around his neck, and her tongue was forceful as it pressed against his, wanting to explore him, wanting him.

In a way, they were indeed running out of time, and they already dreaded their next parting even though they had just been reunited. They lingered on the perfect edges of eternity, yet they were stuck in single moments, clips of life together that they clung to. And even these moments were not always perfect. They pushed and pulled each other like the tide, raging and laughing and smothering each other with a brand of passion that they'd never been able to escape. When Korra had left, she had left him standing angry and alone, the dregs of their latest argument pressing on his conscience. But she came back needing. Pushing, pulling. Like always.

Mako stumbled forward, balancing her weight in his arms, and lifted her onto their table. He breathed onto her neck, kissed her forehead, and slid one hand down the slow curve of her side, lingering on her hips. She toyed with his waistband, slipping her fingers just inside and sliding them back and forth over his skin. She always enjoyed teasing and tempting and making him beg. He gripped the table as her hand lowered even further inside and she grazed him with her fingertips. He pulled his bottoms off and kicked them to the side to allow easier access.

Her fingers were determined to taunt him, and they began their path above his navel. They tracked down his skin, further down where his coarse hair began, and even further, and slowly yet firmly her fingers grasped him, hot and fully erect. He shook his head, and she released.

He kneeled in front of her then, in front of his beautiful and glorious Avatar, and pressed his lips on the inside of her leg. She did not move for she knew what was coming. She let him take the reins, if only for a moment, and she let him take her knees in his hands and she let him spread her. The air was cool. She expected the trail of kisses leading up her thigh, slower and wetter as he approached. Her breath was heavy yet even until it caught in her throat, thick and heavy, when his lips landed right where he knew she was aching.

His tongue reached out, and he tasted her in his mouth, sweet and wet, and she could not control the shudder that racked her body when his tongue flicked across her clit. She instinctively grabbed his shoulders and dug her fingernails into his skin, but she didn't want it this way; he could tell.

"Up," she demanded, not wasting any time because it wasn't something they had.

He obeyed, stood, and pressed his mouth against hers, letting her tongue push inside his mouth. She slicked it over his smoothly, and his fingers tangled up in her hair. She scooted down on the table, moved even closer to him, and her legs wrapped around his waist. He felt her against his tip, slick and ready, and he slid himself inside her. She felt familiar, like there was no rush, but he pushed his hips forward because he needed to be closer, closer.

He'd missed her.

That was the true ache he'd been feeling, the real hurt. He had missed her.

Her breath tumbled into his mouth as she moaned, their rhythm slow and warm and wanting. The table shook as they moved. He liked it slow. It was Korra who increased the pace as she rocked into him and he fell into her and they were one in this moment. Pushing, pulling. Like always, like always. Burning and fast. When would she have to leave again?

It began to end as quickly as it had begun.

Her breaths were sharp and his were low. Her legs gripped him tighter, and he knew she was ready, he knew she was near. He felt her fluttering against him, and he felt her tighten as she got closer, closer, closer and she was coming silently, her back locked as she screamed voicelessly. He still pushed, pulled.

She fell against him, and he pulled her to him tightly, pressing her breasts against his chest, damp with sweat. He did not change the rhythm, for he was already feeling the explosion rising up inside him.

Pushing, pulling.

Near.

His eyes snapped open as he came, and they drank in the purple of the sky seeping in from the window behind them.

All they could hear was their panting. All they could feel was each other.

They embraced as they fell back down to earth, bodies as one, sticky and hot and it didn't really matter, did it? She was finally back, finally here, and he didn't want to let go. He didn't want to, but he knew he had to. He pressed his forehead against hers and looked in her eyes. She put her hands on the side of his face, lightly touching his bruise yet again. He flinched once before he settled under her touch. He did not want to let her go.

"Try not to get hurt next time I leave," she said. "I don't like when people hurt you."

She just didn't know how much she hurt him when she left.

It was a bruise she could not see.

That purple was hidden.

x.x.x.x

a/n: First time writing smut. Sorry? ^^;