Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.
Word Count: 980
Author's Notes: 3/11/12. No real prompt for this one. This is purely for Alison's love of all things Korra/Asami bromance. And she makes me want them to actually be decent friends to one another, too. D:)
Gifted To: ebonyquill
(Love you!)
That one night
on the kitchen floor.
Korra stiffened when she felt a chin drop gently onto her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Asami murmured into the red hood scrunched around her neck. The tiniest trace of a smile attacked the corners of Korra's lips, and when Asami leaned closer in to catch a glimpse, Korra lost control and had to turn away. She rolled her eyes for good measure, but to no avail; she was caught. "I aaam," Asami pleaded, knowing full well that the worst was over. She trapped Korra's shoulders in her arms and when Korra struggled and tried to break away, Asami only wrapped her arms around her more tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she begged, burying her face even deeper into the red, love-worn fabric of their alma mater... and Korra might even have stood a chance, if not for the fact that every apology was punctuated by another fervent nudge of Asami's nose to the space above Korra's clavicle, which meant that her ticklish spots were simply no match. "I've apologized so many times!" Asami continued, as Korra finally cried out and tried slapping, scratching, and wrestling the hands away; unfortunately, all she succeeded in doing was making herself laugh even harder and completely ruining the already-minimal level of organization to the class notes she'd arranged over the small kitchen table. "Korra, please, please, please don't still be mad. Please, please, please, please—"
"Asami!"
"Please, please—"
"Ah—Asami!" Korra finally broke free. (She'd had to launch herself from the chair in order to do it, of course.) Korra backed herself against the counter at the sink, and held out a halting hand to try and maintain some distance between them; Asami was still leaning over the back of the kitchen chair a few feet away, but Korra didn't trust that illusion of safety for a second. (Asami could be a sneaky one, and she was fast.) When she finally caught most of her breath, she looked across the open space above the stained and splotchy hardwood. "Asami, I wasn't mad."
Asami leveled her with a mere look.
"Korra."
"Okay, fine," she grumbled, crossing her arms. "Yeah, I was. I was pissed, but only because I was so caught off guard. I mean, it was one thing when I would walk in on you and Iroh, or even that guy with all the random-ass cabbages—"
"Korra! It was a family business," she hissed. "And I told you to never speak of him again!"
She smiled as she ducked a flying eraser, and this time Korra didn't bother to hold back her smirk. "Or what about that Hasook guy that you dated from my oceanography course freshman year?" (Duck.) "He was quite the keeper. Or maybe that shady guy—" (Duck, dodge, drop.) "What was his name again? Shady—shady something, right? Isn't that what I called him? Shady—ow!" Korra curled in on herself, nursing her left shin. There would be a bruise there tomorrow. "Asami!"
But Asami merely cackled. The hard floor was digging into Korra's hip, but her roommate didn't seem to mind, rocking and rolling all over the ground as she was. Her pouting lip jutted farther, and she shoved her roommate hard enough to send her tumbling, but by now Asami barely noticed because she was practically roaring with delight. "Just typical," Korra huffed, crawling over to poke Asami's shaking shoulder. "You're a frickin' maniac and your laughter still sounds like bells."
She should have seen it coming, but by then it was no use; when Asami reached over and pulled Korra's shoulder down onto the kitchen floor beside her, Korra couldn't even put up a fight. Down she went with an oof! and an ugh! and: Asami, if you give me another splinter, so help me—
"I guess I've dated some pretty disappointing characters, haven't I?" Asami sighed, sending shockwaves of exhaustion all the way down Korra's spine. It wasn't the most comfortable position—they normally had the sense to at least do this in the living room—but Asami's warm shoulder was pressed against hers, and truthfully, she didn't want to move. Korra sighed, too.
"I liked Iroh," she offered quietly, sending a sidelong glance to her left; Asami caught it with a very familiar look. "But you already know that."
"Yeah," Asami breathed deeply, staring up at the ceiling. "I know."
Many things passed between them. The warmth shared from one shoulder to the next. Memories of break-ups and hook-ups and ice cream. Too late nights with too many movies and never enough pillows. Old rooms, dorm rooms, living rooms, bathrooms, and now, even the kitchen floor.
This is gonna be okay, Korra thought to herself, studying Asami's profile carefully. We've been through weirder shit than this. Right?
"Hey, Korra?"
She could feel herself frowning, but found it impossible to stop. "Yeah?"
Asami hesitated, which was almost never a good sign. She opened her mouth once, closed it, and opened it again. Korra's senses went on alert. But finally, Asami sighed and leaned back, letting her head gently drop back onto the old floor. Korra tried to tell herself that this wasn't unusual... but she was already feeling a strange kind of loss.
"I'm sorry, Korra. I know it's weird because he's your supervisor, and... I shouldn't have brought him over, especially after you asked me not to."
"Hey," Korra said softly, shifting closer. "Look, it's over with. It's no—"
"I'm sorry," Asami whispered, eyeing her roommate seriously, and surprising Korra into silence.
She couldn't remember the last time Asami had looked at her like that.
"I promise you," she smiled a sad, sheepish smile. "It won't happen again."
And her promise rang true.
It didn't.