For ishipmakorra based on this post. I hope you like it! Please forgive any typos as I just whipped this together and haven't reread it yet.
"I can't stop thinking about you."
He's slurring his words, stringing them together in sloppy sentences that practically drip with the alcohol thrumming through his veins. She's a little blurry, the hard edges of her form easing into soft lines that he thinks would feel like dandelion fluff if he touched her. And, God, does he want to touch her.
"Ok then, Mako, time to get you home." She rolls her eyes at how his footing is less than steady when he stands with her, letting her slide his arm over her shoulders and rest the suddenly massive weight of his own body against her side. She smells like liquor and smoke, which makes sense since they areat a bar, but she still smells like her, too, like something heavy but free, like the ocean and the forest and those noodles she likes, and maybe a little like Naga too if he's totally honest. She calls out to Bolin, looking for his brother to pass off the responsibility of getting his drunken self home, but he's missing in action. She says something about reckless idiot brothers, but he's too busy edging his head against the nape of her neck to hear them clearly.
"I'm serious, Korra. I think about you all the time. Every day. I can't stop." He isn't quite sure if he meant to say these things or not, but they're out there now, and boy does it feel good to get them out of his head. "Why didn't we work?"
"Mako, stop, you don't want to have this conversation now, not when you won't even remember this tomorrow." Somehow his feet start moving and she's guiding them to the door and out onto the street. The sharp night air burns like ice on his skin but he likes it. He wants more of whatever encourages her to pull his body closer to hers.
"I'm not even that drunk, we had exactly the same amount!"
"Well, let me tell you something, you have almost no tolerance, Mako, while I'm from the water tribe and practically grew up drinking the stuff."
"That's not true, I could drink you under the table."
"Uh huh."
He thinks about that for a few minutes, letting the steady beat-beat-beat of their footsteps distract him, when he remembers what started this in the first place.
"I'll still mean it tomorrow. You're all I think about. Damn, I miss you. Does being just friends really work for you cause it doesn't for me, but I'll take it, if that's it for us." He can feel his own breath against her neck when he says it and it's warm and she's warm and they reach his apartment a lot faster than he likes. Pros and cons to living one block down from their favorite bar, he supposes.
"Mako, seriously…" He pulls back from her neck to look at her face, the conflicted blue gaze drawing more drunken confessions from him.
"I fucked things up, we kinda both did, but fuck, I miss you more than anything."
Something snaps and she's telling him to shut up, pushing him against his door and pressing her mouth to his. It's aggressive and angry and desperate and all he can do is pull her against him when she fists her hands in his hair and draws him closer to her. It's everything he's missed about her.
And then it's over. She pulls away, reaching into his pocket for his keys and unlocking the front door he's still leaning on. He stumbles back into his entryway, but her hands reach out and steady him.
"If you're really serious…call me tomorrow, ok?"
"Ok, I can do that." She smiles and laughs in a little puff of air at that, guiding him to his bedroom and disappearing only to return with a glass of water.
"Tomorrow, then?"
"Tomorrow."
The last thing he remembers is her form retreating from his bed, her eyes shining with the lingering traces of her smile.
Despite the pounding headache that makes even opening his eyes painful and the overwhelming amount of embarrassment he feels for his drunken self, he calls her.
"So?"
"I still mean everything I said."
"Good."
"Good?"
"I miss you too, Mako."
"Korra…I—"
"I'll grab some food for your hangover on my way over. We can talk then. Sound good?"
"That sounds better than good, that's…perfect." His chest tightens in response to her words, a rush of exhilaration, anticipation, and relief filling him when he knows she still wants him.
"Well, it's an extra ten minutes out of my way, so you owe me for last night and this. Think you can make it up to me?"
"I'm sure I can think of something."
Her teasing laugh as she says she'll see him soon doesn't leave his ears until she's there in front of him and he's kissing every inch of her, pulling her tightly against him, and falling back into his still warm bed with her.
And later, when she drags him out of his apartment for fresh food, fingers laced through his, he realizes with a smile that he still can't stop thinking about her.