By the end of the night Kya's just drunk enough to be clumsy and clingy in a way that Lin would generally find annoying-in this public of a setting. (She'd already congratulated Kya on the turn out for the festival—and so had half the city council.)
Kya had explained to the crowd how this final part of the ceremony represented consciously letting go of the weight of the past—of disputes, bad relationships, poor decisions-of filling that space with clarity and new purpose.
As the crowd had watched a dozen waterbenders send lit lanterns off into the harbor, Kya had made her way down to Lin's side, had spoken just loud enough for Lin to hear and no one else.
It's this whispered resolution that had Lin making allowances for the hand that kept slipping into hers when they had to say hello to this old friend or to that merchant who had donated so generously to the event—for her own hands that found Kya's waist during the press of bodies to meet Bumi for one more drink.
Kya's just drunk enough not to ask why they aren't turning on any lights as Lin leads her by the hand through the dark house.
There's just enough light in the bedroom from the sliver of moon and the street lamps outside that she can see Lin undressing.
Lin's skin looks deceptively fragile as the shadows of her uniform fall away. Its hazy glow is distracting along the curve of hip to narrow waist-distracting too in its absence from the shallow valleys that frame each muscle in her upper arm.
She's stumbled out of her boots and fighting with the leather cord holding her hair up when Lin's hands catch hers. Steadier hands carefully untangle the tie and let her hair fall to her back, releasing a hint of incense lingering stubbornly from earlier in the night.
It's Lin's fingers that patiently undo the laces along her ribs, loosening the suede belt to fall around her feet-and Lin's hand that tugs the intricately painted cuff at her bicep down her arm and tosses it aside-Lin's fingers bunching in the fabric over her hips, pulling her outer-dress over her head.
Kya shrugs her shoulders, moves her hips just so and the dress beneath joins the rest of her clothes on the floor.
Lin walks backwards, pulls Kya forward.
Her weight shifts from one foot to the other; her hips hitch forward.
It isn't the alcohol alone that has Kya off balance.
Lin's fingers kneading into the backs of her thighs are somehow holding her upright but Lin's mouth on her breast is warm and wet and creating the perfect combination of bite and lap, of sting and soothe.
It's still a relief to fall forward.
She couldn't name a single spot that Lin hasn't touched.
She's scratched her nails against her scalp and tangled her fingers in her hair. Calloused palms have smoothed their way over her inner arm, the small of her back.
Lin's thumb is brushing lazy arcs between her legs. Her mouth has found the place behind her ear that makes her breath catch, the tender spot beneath her breast that makes her stutter out Lin's name.
When she comes, it's slow and soft and spreads over her in a shudder.
It takes a moment for mind to catch up with body-to realize that Lin is shifting her to her side, sliding up the length of her back, fumbling, then fitting them together.
And then Lin is impossibly inside her too, stretching her, filling her up and drawing out again-and again-and hitting that spot that makes her reach back and clutch at Lin's hair until the lights filling her vision fade and she can hear Lin saying something, something that requires a response.
That something makes her want to watch Lin come apart too, but her greedy body is moving again, drawing itself up on knees and elbows and rocking back harder.
When she comes this time, it's sudden and furious and leaves her biting at the sheets.
Lin's hand is the only thing moving between them now. She can feel Lin's breasts against her back, falling in time with the roll of her hips but out of sync with the breaths coming in pants against her shoulder.
She makes a half-hearted attempt to reach back to touch her, but manages only to brush her fingertips against Lin's thigh.
Lin's nails bite shallow crescents into her hip just before her weight collapses over her back.
When Kya wakes up, the room is brighter than it was before, but the sun isn't quite up yet—and neither is Lin. Her arm is still thrown over her back, a leg pinning hers down.
When she moves, rolling over and stretching, all the right places are sore.
Her foot meets something solid and cool, forgotten in the bed. Nothing more than metal now. When she kicks it clear of the sheets, it thuds to the floor far more loudly than she had expected.
"The hell-"
Lin's awake then—but her scowl is rendered ineffective by the sheer state of her hair. She blows a piece out of her face as Kya teases, "Which earth-bender spirit do I need to thank for your perfecting that little trick over the years?"
A satisfied smirk replaces the scowl.
"The first time you tried it, your ego was bigger than my—"
"I remember," she interrupts.
She buries her face against Kya's neck to hide the blush warming her cheeks. She remembers the bravado and enthusiasm of youth sometimes being at odds with skill-and anatomy.
She can still smell incense in Kya's hair and they have absolutely nowhere to be besides here for the rest of the day.
"Go back to sleep."