Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) for Makorra Week 2013.
Rated T for flirtatiousness, drinking, and language. Fluffy sexual tension? Is that a thing? I'm making it thing.
The tequila burns her throat as she swallows the shot and grimaces.
Agreeing to see her ex was the first in a string of bad ideas. She knows getting dinner is a stupid idea. She knows going to a bar is a horrible idea. She definitely knows doing shots with Mako is a terrible, awful, remarkably dumb idea.
That is, until she's three shots in and starts to forget why she thought this was such a bad idea in the first place.
He swallows another shot before he pushes back the hair framing her face with both hands, her skin tingling from the touch, and lets his hands cup her cheeks, his fingers threading through her hair. She thinks this type of touching might be crossing a "friend" line but the thought drifts away as quickly as it had come.
"You know, I think about you a lot." He's staring at her, his eyes slightly glazed but still glowing, like a fire trapped behind ice. She pulls a gulping breath in, letting it fill her chest, as she tries to stop the dizziness flooding her head, unsure if its cause is his words or the alcohol.
"I think about you too. All the time." The words feel heavy on her tongue, like she wasn't supposed to say them.
"I miss kissing you. And I miss holding you." His face is flushed and she's pretty sure he's closer to her than when they first started this silly bet on who could outdrink the other. Her heart is pounding and she feels each pulse in every part of her body. It eggs her on, emboldens her, pushing the liquid heat further through her.
"I miss touching you." Her tongue slides out to coat her parched lips, the lingering taste of tequila spreading through her mouth once more. His eyes flicker down to her mouth and she watches the way his lips part slightly, the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows, the way his chest expands with his shaky breath.
"Fuck, Korra." His eyes lock with hers and her hands play with the ends of his scarf.
"I miss that, too." She doesn't remember if she pulled him down to her mouth or if he pushed toward her, but his lips find hers, their drunken, sloppy kiss heating her from her lips to her toes.
Someone suggests they go back to his apartment and she's certain it's the best idea of the night.