Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) in response to this prompt: "makorra, the number 6, and sudoku!"
Rated T. Implied Sexual Content.
He is sitting up in bed, yesterday's newspaper in hand, as the morning sun filters in through the open windows of his bedroom. Today is his day off and he is resolved to laze about as he pleases for the entirety of this rare, free day. He folds the flimsy page containing yesterday's sudoku into a tight square that frames the awaiting game perfectly. He never used to be into these puzzles, but after facing a few too many unsolvable cases as a detective, he has come to appreciate the promise of a solution, a complete game.
He is about four steps into this particular puzzle, having nearly completed a square and a horizontal row, when the woman asleep beside him stirs. His concentration breaks momentarily as she rolls onto her back, the thin sheets slipping off of her exposed shoulder, and he is entranced by the way the light dances across her skin. His focus lost, the sudden urge to touch her strikes him, and he trails the eraser of his pencil across her collarbone, her shoulder, the side of her arm. A slight smile and light, easy laugh escape him as she groans, the last vestiges of sleep fleeing her, her blue eyes blearily looking up at him.
"And your reason for waking me up is…"
"Just wanted your lovely company," he says, a smirk pulling at the side of his far too innocent smile. She rolls her eyes at him, before pulling the covers up over her head, and her muffled voice barely reaches his ears. Minutes pass and he returns to his puzzle, convinced she has fallen asleep once again, before she turns on her side to face him, silently watching him as he fills in another small square. He is used to her watching him work through a sudoku or crossword, but it is clear she is only looking at him this time around.
"Korra, are you just going to stare at me?"
"I like watching you solve the game."
"You can't even see it."
"Watching your face is more interesting. So serious over a little square full of numbers." She slides up to sit beside him, curling into the warmth of his bare arm, as she pulls her legs up into her chest. He appreciates the feeling of her next to him, the side of her arm against his own, and he continues to place the next missing number into his set.
A new warmth presses softly against his shoulder and he doesn't have to look at her to recognize the touch of her lips against his skin. She shifts beside him once more and her lips find the junction of his neck before moving to the sensitive spot below his jaw, followed by the shell of his ear. Each gentle sensation stays on his skin for a few fleeting seconds after she pulls away; the mild warmth emanating from each spot spreads through the rest of him. Her lips return to his favorite spot, just below his jaw, but this time her lips press a little harder, linger a little longer, her mouth lightly pulling on the sensitive skin as her lips leave him. His grip on the newspaper square slackens, his eyes drift to a close, and he fights down the small groan that wants to escape his chest.
He hears her satisfied little laugh and can practically feel her smirk against his skin, but he enjoys the breathy gasp that slips from her tantalizing mouth when the paper and pencil fall from his hands and he pulls her to him before rolling over and trapping her beneath him.
"I thought you liked watching me." He allows the weight of his lower body to press against her and he delights in watching her squirm in response.
"I do," she says, as her hands slide down his sides, her nails grazing his back, before she settles her grip upon his hips, "but I like this more."
Her sixth kiss is upon his mouth, her head lifting to meet his (she's never been one to wait for a kiss), and he relishes the way she consumes him with such a simple action.
They disappear into the comfort of each other, tangled in the cool sheets of his bed, and only emerge when her stomach loudly pleads for food.
Today was his day off and he spent it exactly the way he wanted.