"What made you decide to show up?" Kuvira jibed as Korra lay her board on the water.
"Oh you know," Korra kicked off the ground and started to paddle, "Trying to impress a girl."
"At least you're admitting it." Kuvira shrugged.
"Took a while," Korra shot back nonchalantly, downplaying the epic hopeless truth of it. Much progress had been made in the last few days, the weight of her guilty crush on her best friend now lifted, only to reveal the plethora of new insecurities nestled beneath it.
Korra waited on still waters, watching the fans on the shore, only to blink as a drop hit her in the eye. She'd been too lost in her own thoughts to notice the blackening sky.
The swell beneath them started gathering, and the pair smiled independent of each other, the challenge rocked beneath them.
Korra heard her name from above, without thinking she gazed up at the cliff above them. Her heart skipped at the silhouettes on deck chairs, perched on the lip. She waved at them, Ikki and Meelo waved back.
"Look I'm sorry, about how I reacted on our date." the voice closest to her surprised her, and she looked back at Kuvira mounted on her board. Korra waited to hear the rest, "I have a tendency to lash out, I don't make excuses for it."
"I wasn't in the best place either," Korra admitted, looking up at Asami, helpless to resist catching her every movement. She was standing now, on the edge of the cliff in the swirling rain.
"You were being a tease," Kuvira jibed.
"I'm a walking trope okay? Typical gay falls for her best friend and don't I know it."
"I saw what you were up against, Mr Perfect, I'd wait too," There was a softness in Kuvira's voice then, one that she didn't expect and but had noticed once before, when they were honest and alone.
"You met Iroh?"
The was a pause, the rain began to bluster and waves became choppy, in the distance behind them the swirls started forming. For once Kuvira was lost for words.
"You told him where we were?" Korra surmised.
"Of all the gin joints," Kuvira quoted, shrugging.
"He went berserk," Korra's voice started to rise over the din of the storm, and soon enough they were yelling back and forth.
"At least now you don't have to hide anymore. You're welcome,"
"Did you major in being a bitch?" Korra asked her, beleaguered and exasperated.
"I dabble, and actively practice it."
Korra didn't reply as she bent forward to paddle with the wind at her back and the curl jutting beneath her board.
Muscle memories twitching her legs and ankles just so as she stood, she proudly started carving the glassy underside of the wave. Kya once told Korra that, like her father, she had the knack, the inherit talent for flying on the water. Kuvira was but a spec on her radar.
They returned to the fold to a smattering of applause, but this was only heat one and they were just getting started. Korra flipped back, not even stopping to see the scores before swimming to the hilt of the next wave. The rain against her face, jaw set she scored the next arc as though leaving a trail of fire behind her, lapping over the top and somersaulting sideways and landing it flawlessly.
She snatched a look at the woman on the rock above her, and tried not to think about how much she wanted to impress her.
She felt 16 again, fighting her best only when Asami was around to see it.
"It's nice to see you take chances superstar," Kuvira yelled at her, smug grin plastered over her lips.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Korra couldn't stop herself from taking the bait.
"Based on your track record I thought you'd be more passive," Kuvira looked up at the rock beside them, "After all you waited for her to get dumped before staking your claim,"
"She's not-You don't know what you're talking about,"
"I'm trying to help you," Kuvira yelled back, "How many love stories start out with a broken heart?"
"If this is your flirting it's not working," Korra muttered feeling heat rush up her neck.
"What was your plan then? If he did marry her?"
"To Suffer! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Korra hated the look Kuvira gave her then, undeniable pity marred her features and suddenly their whole dynamic shifted.
The ocean was rougher and harsher now, and something in the back of Korra's mind told her to stop, another told her the rewards were greater. Already she was being carried into the biggest tube of the bout, darker and more looming than the rest. All the while Kuvira's words bled into her brain like a poison.
What would have been haunted her; Asami at the altar with Iroh; returning from the honeymoon and telling her all about mere thought of Iroh in her place drove her mad. Even the very real memory of Asami showing her the ring proudly. She felt a sickness in her chest as envy gripped her. It never would have happened if she'd had her way, silent and suffering.
She felt disgust at herself then, what she had thought was being a true friend felt cowardly by comparison. An evil thought pulsed her thoughts, Asami was settling. It formed a pit and punched her gut, and suddenly she flinched and found she had steered into Kuvira's path. Korra saw the whites of her eyes before darting desperately out of the way. It was her undoing.
Under the blue was a vortex into a fierce tangle of net and weed. Before she could curse herself out she couldn't tug out of the trap she'd quite literally made herself. Her board, attached by rope to her ankle, acting as a sail and anchor tugging her down. Every time she fought a new problem gripped her, and as the panic set in she didn't notice the woman ascending upon her.
Asami unravelled the board first, tearing at the clasp and watching it get ripped away by the tide.
Mesmerised she felt calm as familiar hands set her free, cupped her cheeks, held her close.
"Korra look at me baby are you hurt?"
"That was so dangerous." she coughed, and inhaled deep, "You dived from the cliff!"
Asami rolled her eyes and kissed her fiercely. Korra knotted her fingers in her hair to keep her close, kissing her in the waves and the rain, getting lost in the tempest of Asami Sato breathing life back into her bones. The sea began to calm, and Asami took a grip on the netting to steady them, left arm keeping Korra tucked against her. Her kisses petered off as she realised Korra probably needed a moment to catch her breath.
For that the Ice Sculptor was grateful titling her head back and absorbing the woman pressed into her.
"You didn't answer my question," Asami pressed.
"I'm fine," Korra breathed, "I just lost my head a little,"
"It looked like you were about to drown."
"It's a good thing you saved me then isn't it?" Korra jibed, meeting her eyes again, seeing the locks of stray hair that had fallen into her eyes, begging to be pushed back, and watching her lips tug as though about to say something important.
"What?" Korra asked.
Asami kissed her again instead.
"Nothing," she lied, taking her hand and guiding her, shaking limbs and boardless, toward the shore. Korra suddenly felt an affinity for the men in tales lured by sirens; she knew then how it felt to be powerless to follow.
It was an odd feeling, to go from weightlessness, to standing and the weight of the world returning. The ocean clawed at Korra's ankles, as though warning her not to go. She looked down at the pale palm in hers and decided against it.
The sun was shining after all.
Suddenly the hand was yanked away, and Asami was rounding on her opponent; who had been running toward them with perhaps the tiniest amount of concern in her expression.
The next set of surfers kicked off, and it wasn't long before interest of the crowd was turned toward the new.
"What are you playing at?" Asami snapped. Pointing a finger, eyes turned fierce and familiar fight reflex raising her adrenaline.
Kuvira bit her smug smile while raising her palms in surrender, shocked and bemused by it all. While Korra took hold of her wrist this time and warned.
"Asami don't-"
"I don't know what you did but Korra almost got ki-"
"It was me," Korra interjected, "I took my eye off the ball."
Asami turned to her, off balance but softening under her gaze.
"Are you okay?"
Korra nodded, slipping her hand down her wrist to squeeze her fingers.
"Look at you defending her honour, for a second there I thought you'd kick my ass,"
Asami rounded on Kuvira again, only to snap her gaze back to Korra who shot back.
"That privilege is reserved for me,"
"I honestly don't see it."
She felt the respect they had for each other fall off of them like waves and she was buffeted by the notion she was missing pieces of the conversation. Kuvira scrutinised her, as though something in her gait gave away the decades of martial arts training Asami had accumulated.
"What are you looking for?"
"A demonstration perhaps?"
"Korra!" small voices came from the crowd behind them, and the conversation stopped.
Ikki ran and hugged the Surfer, Jinora smiled and Meelo stopped his run to stand tapping his foot expectantly on the sand.
"I'm sorry Meelo, I guess I needed more training."
The boy inspected her before shrugging.
"I guess a comeback story has to start with a humiliating defeat,"
"Humiliating?" Korra exclaimed before he barrelled into her arms.
"That flip was pretty dope though." Kuvira nudged her, and Korra smiled despite herself, gaze flashing between the two green eyed women, and experiencing the strange auras mixing in her chest from the both of them.
"Let's get a drink," Korra finally blurted, leading Asami by the hand she still held to the bar they spent their first night drinking in.
Bolin, Opal and Mako had already found their way to the bar, and while waiting for the storm to pass has familiarised themselves with old friends, Whiskey, Rum and Tequila. Korra instinctively dropped Asami's hand as they approached and were greeted with a wall of - waheey!
"What is Mako wearing?" Korra asked Asami.
"He's really feeling the island spirit,"
Their spiky haired friend had procured himself with a beverage with an umbrella, hibiscus crown and glassy vacation eyes in the time they had left him.
"It actually suits him," Korra mused, glancing shyly at her companion. A cacophony of voices told her to reclaim the hand she had dropped, but in all the noise she could manage but a few fingers curling through the index and middle of Asami's right.
The heiress noticed this, but said nothing as she pursed her lips and stepped into the bar, this time leading Korra. Their three friends caught the interaction, Opal the knowing, Bolin the Oblivious and Mako the Uncharacteristically Giddy.
"I think being relaxed looks good on anyone," the heiress surmised, "it's just not a look we've ever seen on him," Asami smiled and shared the warmth of it with only Korra.
She couldn't put her finger on the many mood changes the pair had undergone in the last few hours alone. They were in a boiling pot of pent up emotion, unsaid things, and unresolved tension. The very earth beneath their feet made up of volatile shifting tectonic plates, that failed to ease the pressure beneath thus far.
But all Asami wanted was another moment alone with Korra. Before she could raise the issue Kuvira was pushing drinks in their hands. The kids had lost interest in the notion of simply consuming liquids and gone to watch the next bout.
"Korra tells me you guys met when you quote kicked her ass?"
"It was a pee-wee MMA competition - someone had to come out on top!" Korra defended,
"Ah so you admit she's the top?"
Asami watched as the heat rushed to Korra's ears and made them gleam, adorable when flustered.
"I'd say at this point we're omni until a status quo is decided," Asami surprised herself when she added it. She had to admit it was fun to brag about sex, she could never do it with her best friend before, well, at least not in this context.
"Korra was the biggest baddest bitch in the place. I was a new starter to the club. I had to build up a rep."
"I underestimated you then but I did not after that. I'd say we were evenly matched."
"You call 89 over 73 even?"
"You counted?"
"You didn't?"
Korra's mind boggled, they'd fought hundreds of times, but she'd never looked at the numbers. She might've guessed why Asami had won so often though; it's hard to fight against your crush with conviction.
"Teenage Korra had a thing for braces." She recalled, only to find her blush increase tenfold as she realised what she'd just admitted.
"You're not telling me you were holding back 89 times? I had you fair and square end of, that's the total."
"I think we have a new more real total nowadays, is all…I'm saying." Korra began to reel herself in but Asami looked at her, semi angry but mostly curious, Korra was peeling back years of hiding right before her eyes.
"What real total?"
"What do you call 15 over 8?" Korra shot back sipping her drink and Asami's mouth dropped open in shock. Asami knew exactly what those toe curling, hair pulling, pleasure screaming numbers meant.
"15 what over 8 what?" Kuvira asked, certain of the answer when Korra only sipped her drink in response.
"Korra I can't believe you!"
"What? It's not like we're ever going to spar again, we've got new priorities now."
"Ugh!" Asami huffed taking Korra's drink and putting down hers with it. She placed a hand on her chest and pushed her, walking backwards until she stepped off the stage and her feet hit sand.
"What are you doing?" Korra balked, appalled and decidedly aroused as Asami tied her hair up in a messy bun front of her.
"Starting a new total, are you ready?"
Korra watched her open her stance, her lithe long body an exemplar of power and prowess. She raked her eyes over the lines and determined set of her perfect jaw and could think of nothing better than finding a way to wrap her body around hers.
"Let's do it." Korra grinned at her.
"Bolin, Opal - Can you judge this?"
"Hajime!" Opal yelled from her seat at the bar, and Korra had but a moment to let her brain catch up before catching Asami's hands.
She deflected and twisted on the sand, one foot rooted, the other high which Asami elegantly dodged. The heiress returned the kick with one of her own, but Korra caught this in the crux between crossed wrists, and she lifted the leg as high as it would go. Asami fell back and let her hands take her into a back flip.
They're both rusty, and slower than they remember ever being, but in each moment they find new appreciation for the other. The muscle memory comes together, and each movement is graceful and synchronised as perfectly as a dance. Until Asami breaks the cycle, that was almost becoming something else, by tugging on Korra's shoulder, falling on her back, tucking her feet into Korra's diaphragm and launching her behind her.
"Did you just sacrifice me?" Korra asked bewildered, and Asami could only laughed as she got back onto her feet.
Flustered, thrumming, the Ice Sculptor rounded on her and launched herself so either leg landed on either of Asami's shoulders. They hit the sand with a thud, but the heiress wasn't down for long, twisting, using her famed legs to turn the tide she had Korra's arms pinned either side of her head, and her hips gripped tight with the length of her thighs.
They'd garnered quite an audience, who'd started to clap as it was clear who was victor as Korra looked up at Asami mounting her.
The pair didn't move however, Korra looked up at her, pupils blown wide and chest heaving, adrenaline scoring through her veins hot and pumping. She could fight, but it was the last thing she wanted to do right now. Asami looked down at her, finding it impossible to look away from those eyes, those eyes whom she'd pinned 89 times before, and never noticed how all encompassing they were. Never once had she defeated Korra, and as she looked down on her, wanted to seal the bout with a kiss, never once, until now.
Chests heaving, throat dry, she finally uttered, quietly so only Korra could hear.
"Take me somewhere."
She could only nod and wait for Asami to unclench her fingers. Korra couldn't hear the jibes from Kuvira and Bolin as blood pumped in her ears. Asami didn't notice the looks they got as they wordlessly got to their feet and she followed Korra through the bar, past their friends and out of sight.
"Those guys are in a world of their own today." Bolin mused as he watched them go.
"Oh hun," Opal whispered rubbing is sweet innocent drunk little head.
Behind the bar, nestled in the trees was a small shack. Asami had expected to be led back to the house, but trusted Korra implicitly, waiting patiently for her to unlock it, careful not to touch her.
Korra takes the combination padlock, guides Asami inside, turns and locks the door behind them. In the sheets of light peeking through the shack wood the heiress can make out long shavings, tools mounted on the walls, broken and in progress surf boards, a couch and a mini fridge.
"Is this-" Asami doesn't wait for her to finish that sentence before kissing her. Petal lips bruising, their contact somewhere between their usual gentle selves with the heightened taut nature of post fight bodies. Korra turns her against the wood and pushes her roughly against it, teeth nibbling at her throat as she pulls at the tie in Asami's hair. Letting the tendrils free against her back as Korra's lips ride the curves and valleys of her body, fingers tugging down shorts over her hips.
"Ah!" Asami knotted her fingers in Korra's hair as she guided her legs over shoulders, angled her hips and wasted no time in parting her with two fingers and teasing her clit with her tongue. Asami felt pleasure of it behind her eyes and closed them to keep it all in, Korra trapping her against the door, holding her up, filling her and fucking her.
Who knew fighting could be foreplay? was the last thing she could think before her mind was reduced to bright lights, obscenities and immeasurable pleasure.
They were finishing what they had started that morning, before they had been rudely interrupted. So many things that had fallen out of place were put back, as Korra's fingers pulled a 16th orgasm out of her friend in as many days, twitching around her fingers and keening behind pursed lips as she tried to stifle the sound.
It couldn't help but feel different, as though the interruptions had shifted their world view by a simple degree.
As Korra stood and balanced Asami on her now shaky legs, a solemn air tinged the moment. As the heiress put her hand on her chest and pushed her back until her knees hit couch and she had no choice but to fall back, Korra felt her old doubts, the fresh poison rear its ugly head if only for a moment.
Asami undressed her, kissing every inch of salty skin she revealed and worshipping as though on borrowed time. She let her fingers tease, circling nipples and nails scraping gently over her stomach before hovering, barely touching the wetness gathered between her legs.
Korra absorbed the still moment, the in-between, the excitement, guiding Asami's mouth over hers, biting her lip, tasting her tongue. With her free hand she rested it on the back of Asami's, waiting for the moment her fingers would rush past entrance. Needing to feel the closeness of that moment, connected and together. Unable to shake the thought that moments like these were numbered.
Desperate to make it count, Asami didn't let up until the odds were even, cradling her head, lips tracing her flushed skin, even tasting her intoxicating sweat. The heiress fucked her until her arm went numb, as though her ex were waiting outside to take her kicking and screaming away from it all. From Korra whose face she peppered with loving kisses, whose hand burned a mark forever into her skin as she held the arm that fucked her, whose very being made her chest feel like it was glowing.
Shaken and off balance they clung to each other, right until the heiress slotted her body over the exhausted sculptor. Her warm breath huffing into her neck.