Internet Connection

Korra drummed her fingers on her wheel rims as she waited for the lift, buzzing with nervous energy. A date. A real, face to face date. She felt almost dizzy with excitement. No, scratch that, she was dizzy because she was forgetting to breathe. Naga stopped nudging her hand as Korra took a few deep breaths. She didn’t want to imagine Asami’s reaction if they had to cancel their date because she’d passed out due to overexcitement. Asami would hold that one over her until the sun burnt out.

The lift finally arrived and Korra rolled in, stretching to hit the button for the ground floor. She cracked her neck and then her knuckles, earning herself a disapproving look from both Naga and the lift’s other occupant. Korra ignored them, focusing on the slow progress of the lift. Finally the doors opened and Korra grabbed the wheels, rolling out into the lobby, scanning around for Asami. She stopped in her tracks.
“Oh. Oh, wow.”
The vision in the red dress turned slowly, quite innocently giving Korra time to appreciate every angle.
“I take it you like the dress?” Asami asked. Korra nodded mutely, mouth slightly open, looking her up and down.  Asami laughed, stooping to kiss her. “You know,” She said conspiratorially, her lips just centimetres from Korra’s ear. “You’re looking pretty fine yourself. Pictures just don’t do this justice.”
Korra’s normally cocky grin had more than a shade of over-awed teen about it. It didn’t help that she hadn’t owned any formalwear; she’d not had much need of it recently and was doing her best in a shirt and trousers.
“Shall we?” Asami asked. Korra pursed her lips in mock thought.
“One second,” she said, pulling Asami back down for another kiss.

They weren’t going far. Asami had recommended the hotel for its proximity to some of her favourite parts of the city, including her favourite restaurant. The maitre d’s face lit up as he clocked her, turning on his best charm for his most valued and indeed valuable customer.

Korra looked at Asami over the top of her menu, watching her peruse her own menu in the soft candlelight.  
“I can see you,” Asami said in a sing-song voice, not looking up. Korra blushed to the roots of her hair. Asami looked up, clearly fighting not to laugh. “Get a good ogle in?”
“It’s not that!” Korra protested. “Well...maybe a bit that,” she conceded, “but not all that. It’s just...this is the first date, you know? Since? And I’m trying to imagine telling the me that just got out of hospital that one day this will be happening and I mean...” She gave a half shrug. “I wouldn’t have believed it. I wouldn’t have believed I’d be with someone like you before I got hurt. I mean, you’re wonderful. You’re perfect. And I...I punched people for a living. You’re you and I’m just me.”
“You’re ‘just’ nothing, Korra.” Asami told her
“I’m just nothing?” Korra quipped, putting a hand to her chest. “Oh, you wound me!”
“Oh you asshole...”  Asami shook her head, amused. “You know exactly what I meant.”
Korra grinned. “I did. But I, much as I like hearing you say it, I also enjoy screwing with you.”
Asami waited until Korra lifted her water glass, taking a sip.
“How would you know? We haven’t screwed yet.”
Asami raised the menu just in time to block the spat water. “Too easy,” She chuckled as Korra wheezed. “And don’t try and spin that one, sweetie, because you’re still looking like a slapped mackerel.”

The rest of dinner thankfully went past without further disaster, more or less. Asami nearly put her elbow in her dish because Korra was laughing about something and the light had just hit her so perfectly. Korra wasn’t the only one thinking about the past, thinking about that thin, pale, shadowed face in grainy footage and hospital lighting. It could have been an entirely different person sat before Asami now, talking so animatedly she almost took out a waiter behind her and didn’t even notice, too wrapped up in catching Asami up on the foundation’s work in the past year. The courses went past all too soon, and finally even the last of the wine was gone. Korra saw the waiter waiting politely in the background, ready to offer the bill and free up the prime table they had been occupying the entire night. Asami glanced round, clocking him as well.
“I think we may be wearing out our welcome.” Asami said.
“And I thought there was nothing that Sato smile couldn’t get us.”
“Oh, it has its limits. Nuclear launch codes, for one.” Asami sighed in mock regret. “Still, it seems a shame to end the night already.”
Korra swallowed, suddenly feeling very warm.
“It...um...it doesn’t have to.”
Asami looked at her in polite confusion. Korra rested her chin on her hand, attempting to subtly loosen her collar. “Tonight. It, uh, it doesn’t have to be over. I’d like it not to be over.” Korra saw the slight twitch of the corner of Asami’s mouth. She flopped back in her chair. “Oh, you bastard!” She laughed. “You know exactly what I’m saying, quit teasing me!”
“But it’s so fun!” Asami chuckled. Korra pouted and Asami reached across the table, taking her hand. “Honestly? I was having trouble finding the balls to ask you. We’d have been another bottle down at least before I got there.”

They didn’t hurry back to the hotel, enjoying the cool evening air, the clear night sky above them.

They had to wait for the lift, Korra’s fingers drumming a nervous tattoo against the handles of her chair, Naga sat patiently beside her.
“I’ll get dad to give her a run.” Korra told Asami, who had been wondering about that. It wasn’t that she had anything against Naga; the dog was cuteness on four paws and she did wonders for Korra, but the idea of doing, well, anything, with Naga’s protective and reproachful gaze on them was a little off-putting. “There’s a connecting door between the suites, so if I need her she can get back in, but I haven’t needed that for a while.”
Asami wasn’t sure who was being reassured as they got into the lift. She put a hand on Korra’s shoulder and felt her relax. “I just...” Korra bit her lip. “I want this to be...”
The lift stopped before Korra could articulate exactly what she wanted. She gave up, leading Asami down the hall to her room.  

The room was nothing special in itself, nice enough but impersonal.  Even Korra struggled to stamp her personality on a hotel room. Still, there were a few things Asami recognised from endless hours of video calls. The dressing gown hung over the chair. The thick blanket folded on the base of the bed, not that Korra could possibly need it in the comparative warmth of Republic City, Naga’s bed and toys in the corner. Asami excused herself as Korra wheeled over to the connecting door.

Korra removed her shoes, manoeuvred herself out of her chair and onto the bed and flopped back against the pillows with a groan. She linked her fingers behind her head and stared up at the ceiling. After what felt like an eternity Korra heard the lock click and the bathroom door open.
“Thought you got lost,” Korra grinned, pushing herself into a sitting position. “Uh...I...wow. Um. Asami? I think you forgot something in the bathroom.”
“You think so?” Asami asked innocently.
Korra nodded. “Yeah,” she managed. “Like, um, your dress?”
Asami looked down at herself.
“Well, would you look at that?”

Korra was only too happy to look at that as Asami joined her, sitting beside her and leaning across rather than straddling her; Korra had mentioned more than once she didn’t like to be pinned. She lowered herself towards her but Korra held up a hand and Asami stopped at once.
“Now, be honest,” Korra said seriously. “Did you do that little show all for me, orrrrr did you just want to make sure you got that dress hung up properly so it wouldn’t get all creased?”
The twitch at the corner of Asami’s mouth gave her away. Korra laughed. “I knew it!”
“Jerk!” Asami pouted, shoving her back down onto the bed. Korra pulled her down with her and Asami caught herself on her hands, one either side of Korra’s head. Korra barely had to lift her chin to kiss her.

“You’re still laughing at me,” Asami accused after she’d pulled away. “Was the dress thing really that dorky?”
“Oh, totally. Uber dorkish. But I’m laughing because you’re in my bed. We’re...” Korra’s hands moved to Asami’s waist. “This is happening. It’s like a really cheesy, awesome dream.”
“You want me to pinch you, see if you wake up?”
“Go for a leg.” Korra told her, with a crooked grin. “I don’t want to know if it isn’t real.”
Asami rolled her eyes. “And you call me a dork,” she said fondly, fingers skimming Korra’s jawline.

Asami’s hand moved from Korra’s jaw to rest on her collarbone, thumb just tracing across the sliver of uncovered chest. She let it rest there for a moment, pulling back so she could see Korra’s face, the question loud in the silence.
“Try not to be too horrified,” Korra tried to joke but her voice came out all wrong.
“I promise,” Asami told her, kissing her gently as her fingers eased the shirt open. She didn’t look, not at first. There was no rush. Besides, she was enjoying the noise Korra made as she kissed her way down her neck. Her fingertips grazed across Korra’s skin as she undid the buttons, feeling the imperfections like a topographical map of hurt; entry wound, surgical scars. Korra shrugged off the shirt awkwardly, still comfortably pinned by Asami, tossing it off the side of the bed. The bra followed. Asami paused at the hollow at the base of Korra’s throat, waiting for the little groan of impatience to give her permission to continue before moving down across her chest, down her sternum. Korra’s grip tightened as Asami’s lips brushed against the puckered knot of scarring on her abdomen, one of her hands resting against Korra’s hip, on her waistband.
“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Asami asked, her breath warm against the soft skin of Korra’s stomach. Korra shook her head.
“No it...it’s...it’s nice,” she managed lamely. “It’s just...there’s not enough feeling... can you not...”
Asami’s hand slid back up onto Korra’s side.
“ ‘No’ is enough. You don’t need a reason. Above still ok?”
“Above is good. Above is really, really good.”

Asami had had more than a few fantasies about having Korra underneath her. It wasn’t quite how she’d imagined it; there certainly hadn’t been trousers in her dreams, but hearing Korra make those little moans as her tongue circled a dark nipple was better than Asami could have possibly imagined, and it only got better as Korra’s hand slipped inside her underwear, feeling the damp heat. Asami groaned into Korra’s breast as her fingers moved against her.
“Did I do this to you?” Korra asked teasingly, but there was a slight note of wonder in her voice.
“You have no idea.” Asami replied, canting her hips slightly to shift the pressure from Korra’s hand. “fuck,” she breathed, and Korra grinned, moving in the slow, gentle pace Asami had been setting.
“Asami?”
“hmm?”
“Just because I can’t doesn’t mean you can’t.”
“Huh...fuck...”
Korra’s fingers curled inside her.
“Get up here,” she ordered, enjoying the look on Asami’s face as she beckoned again. “Get up here. And hang on to the headboard.”