( the last time he kissed anyone, it was saying goodbye to korra and the sum of their relationship. it was a sad, somber thing. filled with love, but. final. this is the opposite of that, questing and alight, alive with an inquisitive nature and ripe with possibility. of which, fruit has fallen from the bow of laden branches, it's a carpet on a forest floor. that moment in time between rotten and delectable. there is so much in that one gentle press of the lips he knows he's going to be thinking it over later, staring at the ceiling of his apartment, wondering what else he could have done.
duty chases at his heels. a guilty tattoo like beaten drums. it's not quite sleeping with the enemy, but.
he lifts his eyes to dick as he sits back, palm tingling where he pressed his mouth against it. such a soft, worshipful gesture, and mako just. doesn't feel worthy of it, right now.
up on the roof, he asks, as if setting whatever this is now between them free into the night sky and the sparks of a coming dawn is an inevitable conclusion. the rising sun is meant to energize firebenders. most of the ones he knows are morning people, very few of them abide the empty night. it's a siren song. yet right now, he feels. such an odd, swelling dichotomy of things. he's tired, but he isn't interested in sleep. his hand aches, but he feels light. guilt is a shackle, but it's the only thing keeping him anchored.
he's just so fucking confused. he shakes his head, though he doesn't have it in him to reclaim his wrist as dick kisses it. )
I need you to stop interfering with police business. Don't be coy. I know you know what I mean.
no subject
duty chases at his heels. a guilty tattoo like beaten drums. it's not quite sleeping with the enemy, but.
he lifts his eyes to dick as he sits back, palm tingling where he pressed his mouth against it. such a soft, worshipful gesture, and mako just. doesn't feel worthy of it, right now.
up on the roof, he asks, as if setting whatever this is now between them free into the night sky and the sparks of a coming dawn is an inevitable conclusion. the rising sun is meant to energize firebenders. most of the ones he knows are morning people, very few of them abide the empty night. it's a siren song. yet right now, he feels. such an odd, swelling dichotomy of things. he's tired, but he isn't interested in sleep. his hand aches, but he feels light. guilt is a shackle, but it's the only thing keeping him anchored.
he's just so fucking confused. he shakes his head, though he doesn't have it in him to reclaim his wrist as dick kisses it. )
I need you to stop interfering with police business. Don't be coy. I know you know what I mean.