…the edible kind, you pervs.
She keeps the blindfold over his eyes even as they go up the stairs.
"You know, this would go a lot better if I could see where we were going," says Amon.
"You got to see where we were going on the car ride over."
He snorts. "Only because your driving was so atrocious that I was forced to intervene. I spent the first five terror-filled minutes with my eyes covered, remember?"
She looks indignantly at him, even though he can't see her expression (especially because he can't see it). "I'm still learning, thank you very much."
"Mmm," is his only reply.
She opens the door and pulls him inside the room before undoing the blue muslin across his eyes. "Okay, big guy...eyes open."
She watches carefully as he takes in his surroundings: a small yet comfortable room decked with dark red paint, a plush-looking bed, a toilet and shower room tucked into the back left corner and a small kitchen at the front.
"This is…" He looks surprised. "This is quite nice, Korra. How did you-?"
"Asami and I discussed some options when I was still...well, you know." A twinge of regret graces her face. "The apartment was originally supposed to be a hidey-hole from the press and other people whom I wanted to avoid. Including you." She looks apologetically at him. "Sorry."
"No need to apologize. I'm sure your reasoning was sound."
"Anyway…I hinted to Asami that while the baby is no longer a consideration, mystery man and I were still together and it would be nice to have a discreet love nest somewhere in the city."
"Somewhere that isn't your boyfriend's secret underground stronghold."
"Don't worry; she doesn't know that you're you. Though I did imply that your place was less than satisfactory. And that you're really messy."
"Avatar, I'm hurt," Amon says mockingly.
"Well, I'm sure you'll get over it," she responds, and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.
He glances around. "Does Hiroshi know about this?" he asks curiously.
"No," she answers, steeling her face, "and it has to stay that way. No one else gets to know about this."
She reaches into her pelt, pulls out a key and wraps his hand around it. "It's not as fun as having me sneak around your home turf," she says with a smirk, "but it's less stressful."
"Thank you," replies Amon softly, and clutches the key to his chest.
"So…" she begins, "now that we're actually here I thought we should…you know…break the place in."
He raises an eyebrow at her. "And you're sure Miss Sato would be okay with that?"
"Wouldn't be the first time someone got laid in this apartment."
"Well then…" He suddenly hauls her up and over his shoulder. She shrieks with surprise and delight and pounds his back with her fists in mock protest. Amon playfully smacks her on the ass, and when they reach the bed he trips and they tumble over and onto the sheets.
They look at their tangled mess of limbs and linens and burst out laughing.
The laughter quickly turns to gasps and moans.
They "break in" the apartment until the blue-gray hours of early dawn.
Experiencing the familiar tingle of post-coital bliss in the still mostly unfamiliar setting of the apartment gives her an impulse she probably would never had had in Amon's chambers.
"We should go to the beach," she says, idly tracing waterbending sigils on Amon's chest.
"Trying to get a tan? I'm not sure anyone will notice," he responds cheekily.
She punches him (lightly) in the face. "You jerk. But seriously…" She bites her lip. "…we should go to the beach."
He gives her an odd look. "Do I need to list the thousand and one reasons why that is a terrible idea?"
"Look, I just was just suggesting something fun. I mean, we've gone out in public before-"
"Only because we needed to renegotiate the terms of our relationship. Said meeting was held on reasonably neutral ground at a time when observers would be few and far between. This is completely different and you know it."
She's startled and feels a little angry at his rebuttal. "What's the matter? Scared of a little sunlight? Or are you ashamed of being seen with me?"
His tone is condescending. "Ashamed? You honestly think I'm ashamed? Far from it. I'm just thinking sensibly." He gives her an incredulous look. "What do you think will happen when a throng of Republic City's citizens see the Avatar lounging on the sand with a mysterious gentleman right next to her?"
"I can say that you're my uncle, just like las-"
"Except last time we could slip in and out with some measure of anonymity. This time we'll be in full view of a more observant public. People will take pictures and there will be gossip and the curious will tell the even more curious who will make inquiries and discover that the Avatar does not have an uncle fitting my description either as a member of her family or as a respected elder. It's a stupid, stupid, idea. Honestly, I don't know how you can be so-"
She's surprised to feel the stinging in her eyes, because this is the kind of analytical crap she knows he's capable of, and she's fallen victim to his incredible thoughtfulness far too many times for her liking. She knows this.
But he wasn't supposed to do this here. The apartment is supposed to be a place for building up, not tearing down.
If you didn't want to go, you could've just said no and left it there.
She sees a flicker of understanding cross Amon's face as he realizes that he's pushed too far. "Korra," he begins, reaching for her shoulder.
But she's already sliding out the bed and grabbing her undergarments from off the floor. "You're right: it was a dumb idea." She blinks until the stinging subsides. "Gonna take a shower. I'll try not to use all the hot water."
She goes into the small room, turns the handle, waits until the temperature is right and then stands motionless underneath the stream from the shower head.
When the stinging returns, she doesn't suppress it.
Later that afternoon she's lying on top of a beach towel with the screams and shouts of hundreds of people echoing around her.
Asami lies on the ground next to her. She had promised her friend a girls-day-out and she was long overdue on that promise.
"I have to say, it's nice not being cooped up in the Air Temple," sighs the heiress, wriggling appreciatively in the hot sun.
She laughs in response.
It's hard not to notice the people staring at them. She's still hasn't gotten used to it, though when she looks over at Asami it seems as though she is blissfully unaware of the prying eyes.
Then again, Asami has had way more practice at this than she has.
Some people come up to her to express their admiration, to ask for autographs, for blessings, for wisdom, for relationship advice (as if she's in any position to be giving people good advice about love).
Other people want to have debates - about philosophy, about the nature of bending, about the war.
At first it's just one or two at a time, but eventually a crowd begins to gather around her and Asami, and the din starts to become unbearable.
When a clique of teenage benders make some unkind remarks about Asami (and her father), she's had enough of all the nonsense. She came to the beach to enjoy herself, not be the arbiter of everyone else's issues.
She bends the assembled body thigh deep into the sand.
"Oh…wow," murmurs an awestruck Asami.
Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best course of action, she admits to herself, but fuck it. I don't have the patience or the will to deal this. "Look people - citizens - whatever. I came here to spend time with my friend." She glares extra hard at the teenage brats. "A friend who is good and kind and has been through a lot lately – and frankly, so have I." She gives the brats another glare. "I'm not here to deal with your problems, to be your savior or your punching bag or some fountain of wisdom. Not today, anyway," she adds hastily.
She bends the crowd out of the ground. "So please, leave us alone."
The crowd quickly disperses, and afterwards there is a conspicuous berth of bare sand between her, Asami and the rest of the beachgoers.
"Well there's no way that little incident won't make the papers," she sighs frustratedly.
Asami runs a hand up and down her back. "It's alright, Korra. Things happen. And you weren't wrong in wanting some privacy." She turns to stare at the water. "It's easy to forget that we're, you know…people. That just because we have power or money or fame doesn't mean that we don't want the same things as others, the same respect, the same right to have secrets." She flushes. "I guess in some ways, I'm jealous of you. You've had the seclusion of the White Lotus compound, of Air Temple Island…"
"Seclusion?" She snorts. "Tell that to all my guards. But considering what happened with Aang," she adds, "I can see why the Order went a little overboard. At least I've been fortunate enough that my guards have my best interests at heart. Once you're outside the walls, though…" she lets her sentence trail off.
"I completely understand," replies Asami, tugging at her shoulder. "And that's why I made sure to put my bodyguards to good use. One in particular," says adds with a grin.
"Oh really?" she responds with a coquettish smile. "Something else we have in common."
"Korra!" Asami's voice is tinged with mock horror.
"I'll tell you mine, you tell me yours."
"Deal," says an intrigued Asami, sitting upright.
"All right," she begins fondly. "We first met when I was thirteen but didn't get involved until two years later. His name was Howl…"
She decides that they should go swimming in the bay, mainly because Asami's back is starting to hurt (but it doesn't matter because her tan is flawless). At first all they do is splash and swim on the surface, but Asami deserves something special, and as the Avatar she better damn well deliver.
She suddenly yanks her friend off the sea floor, bends an air bubble around them both and carries them out into deeper water.
At first Asami freaks out (understandably) – both because she's underwater and because she wasn't exactly asked about this beforehand. But once they get far enough out that the water clears up and the marine life on the ocean floor becomes visible to the naked eye, Asami's fear appears to vanish and she can do nothing but babble excitedly about everything around her.
The Avatar can't help but enjoy the warm feeling that glows in her chest.
When she finally pulls them out of the water, the beach has gotten much emptier and the setting sun sets the twilight sky ablaze with red and orange.
Asami audibly shakes out her hair with a wet smack. "I should probably get going. I promised Mako that'd we'd meet downtown for sushi." She shakes her hips. "I might not even change. That'll get his attention."
She looks at Asami, pictures Mako with a bug-eyed expression on his face, and laughs.
"You can hang on to my beach towel," says Asami. "You could probably use more stuff for the apartment anyways, and I packed a spare in the car. Stay safe. And thanks again for this afternoon – unexpected, spontaneous, and wonderful." She waves and runs off.
Well all in all this was a pretty good day, she thinks as she cheerfully heads back to her patch of towels. Oh, I hope no one stole my stuff. Asami and I were gone for a pretty long time.
As she approaches the towels, she notices a figure sitting on top of them, and a bucket propped up in the sand. When she gets close enough to recognize the mystery person's facial features, she stops and considers turning around and leaving the bastard right where he is before deciding to hear him out.
She strolls up to Amon and gives him her fiercest side-eye. "I'm still mad at you," she says.
"And you have every right to be," he says quietly.
"You're on my towels."
"So I am."
"How did you know I was here?"
"Something I heard over the rumor mill. I took the liberty of coming down here myself, seeing as there are only two people in Republic City who know my face, and I can disguise my voice well enough. It was easy to locate you and Ms. Sato, but I decided to keep my distance. When you left for your swim a man came over – I don't know what his allegiances were – and tried to pee over your belongings. I managed to scare him off and figured I should remain here in case others tried to vandalize or steal your possessions. As it happens-" He reaches into the bucket and pulls out two crabs. "-I also found time to catch these. There are plenty more, actually. I thought we could eat them for dinner."
She looks around her spot. "I don't see a fire anywhere," she remarks casually.
Amon looks sheepishly at her, and she instantly understands what he'd intended. "So bending is bad unless your girlfriend can use it to cook food for you anywhere." She starts to stomp off.
"Korra, wait!" Amon says, leaping to his feet. "That's not…I mean, yes, I had hoped you'd be willing to firebend-"
"Bye."
"No, please, just listen to me-"
His tone of regret is just enough to make her turn around and face him.
He runs a hand through his hair. "I was…I was out of order this morning. Not that what I said was wrong, mind you." He flinches when her eyelid twitches. "But there was no need for me to be so malicious in my saying it. And for that, I am truly sorry. So I came out here with food. And apologies."
She stares at him long and hard before slowly reaching into the bucket and pulling out a crab. "I hear that Bay crabs aren't that good. But since you went through all the effort…" She puts both hands around the struggling animal; after seven seconds it goes still and steam begins to rise from under its shell.
"Thank you, Ko-"
"Don't thank me yet. I'm only doing this because it'd be a shame to waste all this meat, its origins notwithstanding." She dumps the remaining crab onto the sand and jerks her head towards the ocean. "Grab some more seawater. Once I've cooked all the crab, I'll boil out the salt and we'll having something to drink and cool our mouths."
She rips the shell off of her fourth crab and dives hungrily into the sweet flesh; she grabs a little of the salt leftover from the boiling and uses it to season her food.
"You know, this actually tastes a lot better than I imagined." She turns to look at Amon; he's still on his second crab, eating quietly and deliberately. "So," she asks, halting briefly to lick her fingers, "aside from groveling for forgiveness at your girlfriend's feet, was there any other reason you decided to show?"
He glances at his pasty complexion. "To be frank, I could use a little more color in my skin. Being underground for the better part of two decades has not helped in that regard."
"I like it when you're frank with me," she admits. "But being frank doesn't mean you have to be a jerk. I mean, I'm not some fragile piece of pottery or something, but you can be a real asshole sometimes. It's not necessary. And, as much as I appreciate your frankness, don't remind me of how old you are." She wrinkles her nose. "I don't like feeling like I'm jailbait."
"You hardly qualified as jailbait when we first slept together…maybe by Republic City standards, but not by Water Tribe standards. Traditions are changing, of course, but by all rights your father would've married you off long before now." His face flushes with embarrassment. "Not that...perhaps I should retreat from this line of conversation." He takes a swallow that seems much larger than the bite of crab that just went in his mouth. "Korra, are you… are you ashamed of being with someone my age?"
"Yes, Amon," she interrupts, giving a fake sigh of regret. "I'm ashamed of having a hot, dumb, older man who's madly in love with me and great in bed. I'm completely not ashamed of having a boyfriend who thinks that being older, wiser and slightly less powerful than me gives him the right to be a jerk."
"Fair enough," he chuckles. "But I'm only 'great' in bed? I must be losing my touch," he says jokingly.
"Well, I'm sure you'll get back to 'exceptional' with time."
"Perhaps we could-" he says brightly.
"Uh uh. One, I'm still mad at you. Two, because of point one, I am in no mood to deal with sand in my-"
"You could get on top? Wouldn't that avoid the problem?"
"Point one." She wags her finger at him.
"Point taken." He stands up, grabbing the bucket and the towels as he does so. "Do I have to sleep on the floor?"
"No. But no cuddles. And no sex until I say so."
"How will I survive?!" says Amon with a twinkle in his eye.
She makes an up-and-down motion just in front of his groin. "Now that's just cruel," he groans.
She winks at him. "Deal with it."
They start to head for the road.
"You know, I really am glad we came to the beach," he says.
She gives him a skeptical eyebrow.
"Alright, maybe this time doesn't count." He smiles at her. "Something to look forward to, then."
She smacks him in the face with a crab claw. "I'll hold you to that."
Author's notes: Because we are at the point in the story where Amon has to deal with his shit (because now both Korra and Amon are in mental space where they can actually and honestly contribute to the discussion), this is the second chapter in a row where this happens: Amon screws up/Amon actually gets called on his shit/Amon apologies/Amon tries to get better. While it may seem broken-recordish, keep in mind that we've actually dealt with two different issues: first, his controlling nature and now (some of) his intellectual dickishness. We've got one more to go - his emotional intimacy issues (though as of right now I've not planned for any Amon screwups in the next chapter. There will definitely be screwing though, heh heh).
Side note: in "Are You Gonna Eat That?" canon Korra and Howl never got around to intercourse because of mutual concerns on both sides but they pretty much did everything else (and though I'm not gonna say it one way or the other, Howl might give better head than Amon. Might.)
As always, reviews, constructive criticism, suggestions, feedback of any kind is welcome.