In response to this prompt sent to me on tumblr: "Mako sleeps weird on the police department floor and Korra massages it out."

Word Count: 890 words

Rating: K+ / T

"Korra, can you grab-" Mako turns his neck to glance at the girl lugging a box of supplies onto the airship behind him, a sharp pain shooting through his neck and shoulder, forcing a muffled, strangled sound similar to that of a buffalo-yak from his throat. He lets go of the bag he's holding to grab at his stiff neck and shoulder, hoping to relieve some of the strain, momentarily forgetting the blue-eyed girl behind him, until he hears her footsteps and the soft push of a foot against the stiff fabric of the bag he's just dropped, nudging it out of the way.

"You okay, Mako?" Her voice, laden with concern, encourages him to face her, but the painful tug in his neck forces him to settle for glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Must've pulled something in my neck and shoulder. Nothing serious. Just give me a minute." He's about to move out of the entrance, knowing he's blocking the path of the loading dock onto the ship, when warm, strong hands begin pushing him toward a set of crates in the corner.

He feels like he should resist; Korra touching him in any form is probably a bad idea because, well, he just sort of, kind of desperately misses having her hands on him in any way and being near her is hard enough as is. They're still in an awkward, "broken up and not quite friends again" phase of their relationship, and she's trying to so hard to make things normal between them while he's still unable to piece together sentences in front of her without awkwardly calling her the Avatar (he doesn't do that) before saluting her and scooting away (seriously, what was wrong with him).

But…

She's really, really good with her hands (Mako remembers just how amazing she is at these massages andmassages a little too well) and his neck is killing him. Maybe pretending they're just a normal set of friends for a few minutes will be fine…

"You're probably stiff from sleeping on the police department floor, smart guy. Beifong mentioned something about finding you under your desk one morning…?" Her voice is sympathetic but somehow still teasing while she semi-forces him to sit on floor in front of her, taking her own seat on one of the crates. Her hands begin working on the stiffness in his upper shoulders, thumbs pushing with just the right amount of pressure, a satisfying mix of pain and pleasure that sends a relaxed chill down his spine.

"Probably not my best idea, but anything beats sleeping outside." He closes his eyes, her hands moving to his neck, rubbing soft circles into his skin before she's sliding her fingers from his hairline to shoulders again. He feels the goosebumps raise on his skin when a wave of pleasure washes over him, and he wonders if she notices (he hopes she doesn't).

"Sure, but you had other options. You could have stayed at the air temple and slept in an air nomad bed, stiff mattress and all." He can feel the air from her laugh against his hair as her hands trail down between his shoulder blades, finding a knot and working it away. He bites back a moan, his head beginning to feel hazy and his body warm and content. Honestly, she's too good at this.

"Yeah, but it wasn't really an option." He thinks he feels her hands pause for a moment before moving in slower strokes against his lower back. She knows he's weak for her hands there, always liked the way it felt when she was pressed on top of him as she worked her hands and mouth down his body, pliant and eager under her touch, and—

"Why is that?" Her voice is a bit too soft, hints of frustration and hurt creeping into her tone. It snaps him out of his too comfortable fog, reminds him of what exists between them now and what belongs in the past.

"Well…"

Because you were there.

He can't say it. She knows exactly why he didn't stay there, but he still can't say it to her face. That would mean admitting he still wasn't over her, that he hadn't been able to move on after months of separation. Her hands still on his back.

"You know, I had a lot of work and stuff. Trying to make it to the next paygrade and all." He rubs at his neck, relishing the ease he feels in his now loose muscles when he turns to glance up at her. "Thanks for this, though. It really helped."

"No problem. Just trying to help a friend out. " He doesn't miss the disappointment that starts in her gaze and settles in her jaw, her mouth turned down in the corners. She stands and crosses her arms then, something between a grimace and a annoyed smile plastered on her face. "We should probably help finish loading the ship."

"Sounds good." He clears his throat before standing, hands shoved in his pockets. She leaves an uncomfortable silence in the trail of her footsteps. He lets the distance between them grow before he follows after her, pretending he didn't miss the feeling of her hands on his back the second they left him.