In truth, this was only meant to be a proposition for sex.
As Korra and Asami shared their bed, the physicality of Mako eclipsed the difficult emotions Korra grappled with that day, just as they'd hoped and planned for. He served as a complete distraction and allowed Korra to forget herself. She was able to set aside her grief and concentrate solely on the raw need for their collaborative touch.
But in the morning that follows, staring at his usually austere face now softened by sleep, Korra feels so much. More than desire, she wants to run her fingertip over those handsome features as she once did long ago, to study him in this way with more than just her gaze. She wants to memorize him, body and soul, to learn the differences between the boy she left years ago and the man that isn't leaving her side now.
The more she pays attention, the more it seems time has been wearing away his rough edges. He's matured in ways beyond just appearance. Loyal and pragmatic as ever, there now seems to be a deeper undertone of compassion in his thoughts and actions. The Mako she once knew wouldn't have plucked hundreds of flowers to lay at the feet of statues, she doesn't think, but this Mako isn't quite the same as the one she'd left behind. He's always been driven to protect others, be it his brother or lover or his city at large, but there's been a subtle shift in his way of thinking that Korra can now see.
Maybe it was his time with Prince Wu that pushed him to empathize. Or his time with Asami, in whichever way they maintained their bond. With how she treats him, entertaining his company with a smile, he must not have been unkind. He threw himself into his work, and he has extended family in his life now, but Korra doesn't know what else could have changed him.
Maybe it was their three years apart, quietly waiting for her. He's had a lot of time for self-reflection too.
Whatever the cause, he was more than willing to lay down his life for Republic City. Bolin had told Korra about how Mako collapsed from his injuries just as the power source was set to explode, and it is a miracle that either of them escaped in time. He'd risked his life for her often, but this felt different. A heroic end. And somehow he is still here, alive, and holding her.
Perhaps he can sense Korra watching, equally observant of her even in sleep. He breathes deeply as he comes to, the arm curled under her neck shifting slightly. When his eyes open, she's so close to him, looking up to admire his features as she's held in his embrace still. Mako hasn't let her go even as Asami rolled away from them sometime in the night.
He doesn't look or pull away now. His eyes linger on her blue ones, and only drift to observe her lips as she moistens them, her mussed hair, the warm brown skin of her shoulder and arm as she rests partially across his chest.
They don't need to share any words at this moment. They don't need to kiss to send a message to one another, even as they kissed in the night, his lips finding hers, her neck, her shoulders.
Korra wondered if it was okay to keep touching him, hours after their session had ended. This wasn't part of the arrangement. No words had clarified any such boundaries, but boundaries were surely there.
Then Asami pressed her hand gently to Korra's spine in the way that she so often does. It felt like grounding; permissive, as strange as that was to feel. She was aware of Mako's continued roaming and did not express discomfort with it. She was relaxed, and fell asleep, as they all did in the end.
This didn't even feel sexual. His kisses were slow and deliberate as if he were pouring all of himself into her. He didn't rut his hips into hers, even as she noticed his desire again mere hours after he'd already taken her here in this bed. Mako couldn't wholly tame that part of himself, but he tamed his movements and actions. Just enough to express the depth of his love, too palpable and irradiant to deny.
Years ago, he was always uncharacteristically sweet upon waking, and maybe that trait remains in him today. She wonders if Asami ever experienced this side of him, the tenderness and openness he'd only expose before his emotional mask could slip on to carry him through the rest of the day.
Mako is always so guarded. Only sleep truly crumbles that armor.
Several minutes of intimate observation pass before he gives Korra a long squeeze of a hug. Perhaps it's an apology for needing to leave the bed first. He pulls away from her and shifts to sit on the edge of the mattress. There's an immediate lack of warmth, and a return to uneasiness as Korra remembers he isn't quite hers to love in this way. She is claimed heart and soul by another. What was agreed upon in the night is not a reflection of what's acceptable come morning.
Affection for him has restored itself within her, even so. Perhaps this was an inevitability, for so long as he is within her presence, he's cementing himself a place alongside her. Holding him at a distance for so long hadn't erased much in the end.
Perhaps it was self-doubt and self-hate that made Korra push him away, in part. She didn't want him to misunderstand the complexity of her depression as she recovered from her injuries. Everyone had been questioning her ability to get better, including herself, and she couldn't bear to see that reflected in Mako's eyes.
He had always questioned her decisions, questioned her feelings, and she would consistently blow up in his face over the slightest of criticisms, even if he hadn't intended to be cruel. They grated on each other's nerves too often, fire meeting fire in the worst way.
Then she was so sick from the poison, unable to move her body and unwilling to put effort into maintaining any semblance of a relationship with anybody. It was easier to set him aside, set them all aside, rather than try to make him understand.
Korra only trusted Asami with her feelings, but even that had taken time. They had more in common, despite their many differences, with their destinies being thrown into question so often, the losses that devastated again and again, making each woman question their value and sense of purpose in the world. Mako had his share of hardships, but his were unlike hers, and he couldn't understand Korra in the way she needed.
Arguments were so easy to fall into with him. When they were trying to recover Wu from his abductors, Korra was reminded of that, but it also dredged up more than just the negative memories.
Korra wonders if things would be different now if she gave him an opportunity to try again.
She wants to give him that opportunity.
It's lovely to admire the definition of his back muscles as he hangs his head momentarily, sitting there beside her and facing away. Even as he needs to leave her, he doesn't want to.
When he finally stands, Korra is able to see his butt. So much of him is chiseled and toned, there are dimples in his lower back muscles that she hasn't taken nearly enough time to appreciate. That's what finally gets her to prop herself up, wishing to see him walk around, even if it's just to collect his clothes. She may be focused on the vibrancy of his person, but his body is beyond easy to look at.
He picks up his boxers and pants first. She can see he's semi-hard as he tucks himself away, not unusual for him in the early hours. Only then does he register that Korra is actively watching him.
"Go back to sleep," Mako orders, his voice rich and husky.
Her belly twists with want.
Of course she's not going to sleep. Korra sits up instead, letting their blanket fall from her as she reaches her hands forward toward her toes, stretching to help wake herself up as well. It's not a deliberate act meant to tease him, but he takes a moment to watch her soft breasts hang as they move forward with her. Her lower back has a lovely twinge of soreness, and she knows precisely who caused that.
"We're lightningbending today," Korra informs him.
"Ah... Sure."
As he picks up the rest of his clothes, Korra stretches her arms up next, sighing as she rotates to get those muscles loosened. Asami is still sleeping as she shifts beside Korra, rolling onto her back, a soft breathy noise escaping her as she adjusts into a more comfortable position.
Even though Mako's begun to open the door, it inches closed again. Then opens. He almost runs into the doorframe, not quite watching where he's going.
"Willpower," he mutters before leaving.
Asami doesn't voice all the things she wishes to – she thinks of a few ways to add amusement to their situation, and a number of words to alleviate the tension, but such thoughts ultimately don't leave her lips when she pauses to take in Korra's expression first.
She's openly warring with herself. Korra has been adamantly trying to self-reflect for weeks, but she isn't meditating now and is fidgeting more than anything. Something else important is brewing in her mind, and Asami knows to let her process the previous night on her own terms, without any pushing, without Asami shifting the mood for her.
So their morning is quiet, with few words said. She gives Korra a reassuring kiss to the temple before she heads to the bathhouse. Korra follows, hesitant and clingy, and Asami wonders what exactly is going on in that head of hers.
Asami has a strange time processing the night as well. It hadn't been planned, necessarily. Even if she'd fancifully imagined a few scenarios that could land Mako in their bed, all in good fun, this was certainly not meant to happen when Korra was upset, nor here in this place, nor before Korra had completed her mission. This was more of an outlandish fantasy that she never believed would actually occur.
As much as Asami tries to resist uncouth impulsions, she found herself speaking about Mako – offering Mako, who so easily offered himself – at the first moment Korra begged to be distracted by sex. This certainly wasn't the ideal moment to lay that card on the table, but impulsivity won out.
Asami had spent these weeks pondering how Mako could also assist Korra on their mission, not through intimacy, but as a means to soothe the anxiety and turbulence within. Despite Korra's admission of lingering attraction to him, they thought his company would help to motivate and encourage her.
Asami isn't a bender, and isn't well-versed in chi or chakras or anything of the sort. She is modest enough to recognize Mako's strengths outweigh hers in this matter. When Korra chattered on about the fire chakra and its relationship with lightning, and how Mako surely keeps that chakra open, there was no way they could pass up the chance to invite him along. They wanted to learn, but there is something electric about his presence that made this decision too easy.
He was always so skilled at using his body as a distraction, though. Whether Asami felt overwhelmed, exhausted, enraged, or miserable, it was never difficult letting Mako help her relax. They shared little affection, but had a good amount of shared history and respect. She didn't trust anyone else with her body for the entire time Korra was away and recovering. Other men felt wrong to entertain and other women never caught her eye at all. It wasn't that women weren't attractive, but Asami only wanted the companionship of one, and she wasn't in Republic City.
She was experiencing a bit of a crisis when this whole fling began. Three years ago, none of Team Avatar had heard from Korra in the months since she'd departed. Asami's last view of Korra was on that ship, returning her back to the compound half a world away, and with too much time and distance grew heartsickness and turmoil. There was trouble with Asami's business, with the Sato name and its reputation in tatters, even as she strove to rebuild Future Industries from the ground up. There were political tensions rumbling through their city and across the Earth Kingdom. Rebuilding parts of the city was a particularly daunting task as Raiko resisted her best suggestions at every turn.
All it took was one fundraising event, where Mako was the only plus one she could think of bringing. She was irritated by everything except for the man at her side who was trying his best to calm her. She wasn't feeling confident in her ability to wrangle donors, and somehow that cocktail of frustrations plus actual cocktails led to her pushing his fingers up the length of her garters and under her dress. They managed to steal away, and he lifted her against a wall in an instant.
The best part was his sweet face, as red as could be after they sat back down at their event table, when she told him she could feel his cum leaking out from her and ruining her panties. She even made him touch, to verify, to feel how he'd staked his claim there. It was much bolder than she'd ever been before, but the dynamic that spiraled from there gave her an acute sense of power, when she felt desperately little power elsewhere. She led, and he consistently and obediently followed.
It was just supposed to be sex on her terms. But there were some hiccups, like the marks they'd leave on each other. A too-visible bruise on the neck from lips or fingers, scratches from her, lovebites from him, all acting as tags of ownership when neither were owned. That was unacceptable. Rules were quickly set in place to ensure it stayed private, intermittent, and never became anything more than physical. Both of their hearts were elsewhere even if they did not speak of that.
She isn't foolish, though, and knows this arrangement couldn't be 'just sex' for Mako and Korra. Mako is utterly consumed by her. While Asami doesn't quite trust him with her own heart, she does think that Mako would treat Korra better, adding his pillar to the foundation she's built to support her.
Asami isn't the jealous teenager she once was. It isn't a significant bother to imagine Korra being held by him, kissed by him, loved by him and her loving him back. They would have a worthwhile relationship if Asami wasn't here but he was. It would be even better if they could both be here for her, both support her in this way, in this moment when she needs to be shown love and grace more than anything. But it's a hard concept for Asami to wrap her head around, and harder still to voice.
Her bath with Korra isn't driven by intimacy so much as necessity, washing off the night before, their hands remaining to themselves. When they're finished, they get dressed, and Korra stays with Asami the entire time she continues to get ready for the day. Asami's thick hair needs more product and care than Korra's in order for it to tumble just so. She finds a small table and chair, and has brought a mirror to do her makeup with. Korra watches her, studying the process, maybe interested in it and maybe just fond of observing Asami's features as she does this.
When Asami completes her look, Korra helps her hop up out of the chair, seeming to be a bit more excited to begin their day.
But Asami's mood shifts when she sees a dark blotch on Korra's throat. She reaches out to push Korra's hair back, observing the details of the new bruise that has begun to sprout there.
"He left a mark," Asami points out, throwing caution to the wind. Her brow is furrowed with confusion and her tone isn't as amused as she wishes it could be.
Mako seems to have broken many of their rules last night: kissing on the lips, staying the night, making it more than a coital affair, and this, leaving a mark for others to find. He broke more rules than he followed.
"Oh." Maybe her tone is more harsh and accusatory than intended, because Korra suddenly looks concerned. Her hand covers her neck. "I– He kissed me there, I think. I'm so sorry, Asami."
Asami sighs and tries to force her own body to relax.
Her fingers remain by Korra's neck, easing Korra's hand down so she can observe it again. She rubs a thumb over the mark, debating whether she truly has the strength to share her lover like this. She firmly boxed Mako in with rules and regulations, but with Korra his actions prove unrestrained. This mark echoes his recurrent disregard for how Asami feels about anything. By allowing him to touch, and more, this is giving someone else the wheel, giving him the wheel, which is the only part she's a bit uncomfortable with. This is unpredictability when their dalliance was founded on the opposite of that.
If she's going to cast this situation in a positive light, Asami has to speak her mind carefully. She doesn't want Korra to feel as if she's made a mistake by allowing Mako in. This is difficult terrain to navigate in the best of circumstances; there are too many factors at play for this to be an easy conversation.
"He and I followed a strict protocol," Asami begins to explain. She's never told Korra about this – Korra knew vaguely of their nights together, and yet none of the details. "There were rules set in place for how we went about relations. No kissing, no marks left behind, and he never stayed the night."
"I didn't know," Korra says before she can elaborate any further, but her soft voice warbles as if she could cry over this. "I'm sorry I asked if he could stay. We should have clarified boundaries beforehand. I'm so stupid for not checking in with you."
"You did. I said he could stay."
Asami's face tightens as she registers how afraid Korra is of upsetting her. But she recalls how Korra once swore never to hurt her like Mako did. Swearing to never cheat. Perhaps Korra's concerns run in that vein; she's concerned she's hurting Asami in a way that's too reminiscent of their shared past, kissing a boy behind her back. Mako, specifically.
The last thing Asami wants is to argue with Korra over something Mako's done. Korra has been more than generous making sure she's comfortable with Mako's presence on these trips. The duty to outline expectations falls on Asami's shoulders just as much. Being irritated with Mako's actions may or may not be reasonable, but Asami was the one to facilitate and encourage this entire situation.
She wanted to bed him, and asked Korra to allow it. They're all guilty of having vices.
"This wasn't a boundary," Asami tries to reassure. "I'm trying my best to not knee-jerk react with irritation – at him, not you. This was our arrangement when you were gone. You never agreed to any such thing, and we never told you how we handled this. I'm just surprised since he doesn't typically do this."
Their 'protocol' was set to formally end when one of them entered a relationship, regardless. He hadn't technically broken any rules. He got carried away, joyous and overeager as soon as he was granted permission to touch the woman he adores. Korra reciprocated, drawing him in just as readily. Asami understands how he could have this moment of weakness, forgetting himself and forgetting propriety. If their roles were reversed, Asami can't pretend she'd do anything different.
"Tell me what to do to fix this," Korra pleads. For as much as she's overcome fear and guilt, her anxiety is spiked now, unable to be quelled by the words Asami has offered. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't want anyone to come between us."
Asami shakes her head. "I'm not hurt by this. There's nothing to fix."
Maybe her tone is still off. Korra waits, still needing her to elaborate. Words aren't often a struggle for Asami, but she isn't quite sure how to lay out her thoughts here. She isn't certain this is the right time to tell Korra that embracing Mako is more than okay. She just needs another moment to process.
It's unclear where Korra's heart is at exactly. It's nostalgic and lustful, but there is certainly more, and Asami doesn't want to be the reason those deepest desires aren't realized. If Korra indeed sees him in a romantic light, then far be it from her to stop them.
Jealousy and possessiveness fueled her in her youth, and led to her own heartbreak again and again. Asami once expected others to not only prioritize her, but to love her exclusively. But with wisdom she's begun to understand that monogamy may not be an entirely realistic or fair expectation for the rare few whose hearts are not built for that. Mako had sincerely cared for both women, and yet they forced him to choose between them. That had only stained their faith in and love for one another in the end. If only they were all more open to discussion, more understanding and less threatened by the unknown, then perhaps the grief they put each other through years ago wouldn't have happened.
"I'm a bit scared," Asami finally admits, in spite of her belief this is a step in the right direction. "I'm scared to share you. Scared to lose you."
She can't guarantee that Mako will be what Korra needs. He could run on jealousy just the same, pry them apart, turn them on each other. But the mark he left on her doesn't feel intentionally territorial, and Asami wants to extend a bit of trust to him, even if these are murky and uncharted waters for them all.
"But you offered to share me," Korra says dejectedly. "This was your idea… Asami, I don't understand."
Asami's smile is weak and not very comforting. "I'm scared for our relationship to change, is all. I don't regret anything."
Asami pulls Korra into an embrace, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. When Korra's fingers hesitantly shift to the middle of her back, it feels like their hug they had outside the library before all of this began, before Mako became affixed so firmly to their sides. That was when Asami told Korra she seemed lost, and that she should attempt to reconnect to the ones most important to her: the Avatars, she believed, but maybe it was meant to be Mako as well.
Korra's breathing is harsher, like she's trying to calm herself but has forgotten the need to go slowly.
"You two are open books," Asami says, grasping for her resolve. "I can see the love between you, clear as day on your faces. I don't want to limit that just because the world tells us we should."
Korra is too tense. She shifts, uncertain.
Asami lets her think about that. There's so much more she'd like to say – to explain how she knows they love each other, to explain how he's blossomed into a good man, or how Korra could benefit from having someone else at her side, even as Asami doesn't question her own worth anymore and knows she belongs just as much. It's too much to voice, and all the words she'd planned slip away from her at this moment.
"I don't know what to do, Asami," are the words Korra mumbles into her shoulder.
"I think you do." This response comes easier, at least. When Asami draws back, Korra looks like heartbreak personified, and Asami hates that this sort of conversation worries her so. She's done nothing wrong, and neither has Mako. "I love you," Asami tells her, "I adore you and all that you do. I'm with you no matter what. We're grown; I believe I can learn to share."
Korra's expression is so hard to read at that moment. Asami lets her hands linger on Korra's shoulders for a beat before they drop. She moves to collect her mirror and makeup, ready to leave this room and this conversation. She can't stand the way Korra's looking at her, like a bomb set to detonate.
This conversation is hard, but convincing Korra to trust in herself is the hardest part of it.
"Raava spoke with me last night," Korra offers. It's a shift in topic, until it's not.
Korra recounts the story of the light spirit's unyielding love for the first Avatar, which transcended the constraints of time and separation. Raava's affection extended to all Avatars, growing rather than diminishing with their numbers. Love is complex, yet boundless, Raava said. And Raava encouraged her to embrace the beauty in that.
Korra then tells her about Mako. About how maybe she could love two, if she lets herself. If Asami lets her do that.
"A spiritual part of you led us here," Asami tells her for the second time.
Something drew her to the library, and to this temple, in efforts to show her the path forward. Korra's concerns about fate removing her autonomy have validity, but this situation makes Asami believe that if some higher power is indeed pulling the Avatar's strings, then maybe it's trying to guide her in a better direction. It's trying to make her understand.
Maybe it's just Raava doing that. Asami places her hand on Korra's chest, imagining this spirit may understand Asami's intentions, or Korra's heart, better than they themselves do.
Maybe they are spending too much time in this room, and Mako will be wondering where they're at, but Asami takes more time to clarify where she stands. There is no pressure to do anything, and no pressure to avoid anything. Korra is in control of her own destiny, so far as love is concerned.
Korra spends much of the morning in the statue room again. The light spirit may or may not be willing to speak, but there's still significant grief to contend with either way. Looking upon all the countenances of other Avatars proved too difficult yesterday.
It was as if Korra had expected to suddenly feel better about their absence, as if observing the dead could make one feel at peace. Perhaps this visit made Korra's grief worse in the same way Asami observing her father's shrine makes her chest pang with despair. But this is a step toward acknowledgement, and Korra can no longer claim she doesn't know anything about the other Avatars. This may be what it takes to help her move forward – not by forgetting them, but by knowing and refusing to let this sadness restrain her.
While Korra spends time alone, Asami relaxes with Mako for a bit in the kitchen, and at least with him she feels freely able to tease him about the night before. She adores the way he chokes on words whenever she knocks him off balance with her own.
"You two were loud last night," Asami says, although it's a bit of an exaggeration. Even as she laid beside them, all she could hear was the sounds of their breathing, their lips. The wet suction of kisses upon kisses, but too soft and slow to be any real nuisance. A hand sliding across a hip and up a back. A couple murmurs, and little else. None of it was loud, but it was bewitching. A bit thrilling, as kinky as that is. "You left a hickey, too."
Mako clearly doesn't know how to explain himself. He doesn't have to. She waves him off, having a good laugh at his expense, and his returning smile is cautiously relieved.
Asami doesn't tell him a thing, since that falls under Korra's jurisdiction. If something authentic forms from him and Korra spending time together, perhaps this is good, but it will require Korra to take the lead.
When Mako and Korra join up in the courtyard to begin firebending together, Asami leaves them be.
Spending some time for herself now, she returns to what appears to be a music room, deeper in this temple. There are unique instruments inside and she only recalls the names for about half of them. Yesterday she noticed a wind-up record player tucked in a corner that triggered some interest. The cylindrical phonograph is relatively nonfunctional, but she spends a couple hours by herself attempting to clean, diagnose and repair it. The drive belt wasn't aligned well and a spring had broken inside from someone overwinding it.
Asami only interrupts Korra's study session to get the Avatar to metalbend the spring back together. Both benders are flushed and sweaty, Mako from having generated lightning a dozen times, exhausting him. Korra has been struggling to discern and separate positive and negative energies but looks excited nonetheless.
"I felt a spark," Korra gushes, her smile as wide as can be, hair sticking with sweat to her cheeks. "No lightning yet, but I think it's right around the corner. I'm doing it!"
Asami squeezes her, kisses her. She shows her appreciation for Mako too with a hug and kind words for all he's doing to help.
In the evening, Asami makes tea again. She loves doing this for Korra, seeing the way she wraps every finger around her cup, letting the warmth soak into her, eyes closed and content even for a brief moment. There's a few flavor profiles that she knows Korra prefers, like lemon or mint, with extra honey, but never with anise. The tea she prepares now is almost grassy, musky, more a medicine than a treat. The most palatable way to doctor it up is with the honey Korra prefers.
Asami finds them outside. Korra is taking a breather, but Mako persists, blasting a long jet of fire out of his left arm in an effort to better regulate its flow of energy. It's roaring hot. He's gotten so much stronger in the weeks since Korra healed him. His lightningbending hasn't been substantially impaired, after all, and he isn't giving up.
When Korra is handed her cup, she immediately recognizes what it is by scent.
"The White Lotus never let me stop drinking this stuff," Korra grumbles. "Since getting with you, I thought I didn't need to take this anymore."
"Me too. But here we are."
Their eyes linger on Mako a fair distance away from them. He puts his hands on his hips, looking overly satisfied with himself and his progress. When he notices Asami's attention, he waves like a dork and yells something about how she should be proud of Korra.
He's too cute.
"How did you know to pack this?" Korra asks, referring to the contraceptive tea. When Asami tightens her lips to hide a smile, Korra barks a hearty laugh at her.
What can she say? She's a forward thinker.
"For tonight," Asami cheers, an answer in of itself, holding out her cup as if to clink it with Korra's. Korra does so, and they're snorting laughter into their cups as they chug together.
Korra doesn't seem to tell Mako anything about their conversation, either.
They've worked hard all day, so focused and driven, giving lightning generation their very best effort. It's slow-going, and Korra finally ends their practice after a number of hours and a number of burns to her fingertips. But it shows lightning is perhaps possible for her, and she's beyond pleased. Mako has certainly been a strong motivator.
Korra is sure her fire chakra is more open than yesterday. She's doubting herself less, connecting to others more, and there's a renewed eagerness and excitability in her. Late into the night, she's so chipper and emboldened by her success that she's the one to pull Mako into their bedroom.
Asami guides Mako's hands as they hold the pendulum together, watching it sway clockwise just below Korra's ribs. Korra pulls her top up enough and guides Mako's hand to feel her there, similar to how she'd felt for his chakra on their journey here.
Maybe he doesn't detect the flow of chi like she wants. But as she sits there, grinning as she enjoys feeling her life's energy thrumming warmly beneath the breadth of his hand, he dips down to kiss her again.
Asami doesn't mind, really.