Who: Korra and Mako When: Saturday March 2, after this log and this text conversation. Where: A fancy restaurant What: Toph forced Korra to go on a date with Mako. At a fancy restaurant. Rating: R. NC-17. Almost-Sex. Drama. Read if you enjoy Porn (okay, who doesn’t?) and if you're over 18, man. Don't get me in trouble. Punks. Status: Complete
Korra was feeling just a bit uncomfortable standing outside of Studio. She’d just gotten her hair dyed mostly blue, cut and a blow out. Usually she was the type to put her hair in a ponytail and be done with it. Apparently Toph had had other plans.
Also put into a dress of Toph’s choosing (the shop girl had been instructed something slinky and blue), she was pulling uncomfortably at the hem. It was short, man. And Korra wasn’t used to wearing dresses in the first place.
Fuck, she was totally out of her element. And was starting to feel nervous.
If she was nervous, than probably if you doubled that nervousness you’d have Mako. His outfit wasn’t what bothered him here -- he was wearing a nice black suit, and his tie was a shiny sort of purple-lavender. He looked good.
His shit-orange Geo-Metro, on the other hand, looked exceedingly out of place in this places’ parking lot. So much so, that Mako had absolutely forbidden the Valet from even offering to park it for him. Because shit, man, he had to have some sense of pride. This was already a strange day.
He wondered terribly what was going through Korra’s head when she’d invited him out -- and then even more so when he learned where. There were a lot of questions on his mind, but he seemed to have lost them all when he spotted her waiting outside of the building. Holy shit.
Korra had checked her phone about a thousand times, because it was kind of awkward waiting by yourself. Toph had sent her on her way in a cab, and she’d ended up being early. So she’d been standing on her own, feeling a bit out of place. Even if she didn’t look it (anymore), she totally wasn’t part of this scene, man. It was weird. She didn’t feel like she could punch anyone effectively in heels and a short dress.
Looking around, Korra pushed a piece of hair behind her ear as she caught sight of Mako. Her heart started beating faster because fuck, suits were good on most guys. But Mako? Yeah, she’d agree that he looked good. Just not out loud.
Now she was nervous. Was she supposed to give him a hug? A kiss on the cheek? The lips? As he was approaching, she decided to do the awkward-wave and smile (she definitely looked uncomfortable) in greeting. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” Mako managed to choke out in return because holy shit. He normally thought that Korra looked good in whatever -- but she had blue hair now and it almost but not quite matched with her dress and he was pretty sure that he legs were going on forever and ever and ever and heels -- oh. Yeah, buddy. Her eyes were up there.
He stood in front of her awkwardly for a moment, wondering the same thing as her -- he nearly held his hand out to shake hers, but that was really fucking stupid. “Hi,” he said again.
Korra kept pushing at her hair. Nervous? Definitely. Showing it? Certainly. She couldn’t help it. She looked Mako over and felt the blush creep up from her chest right into her cheeks. Instead of being smooth about the whole greeting thing, she reached out and gave Mako a good-natured punch in the shoulder. With an awkward laugh and a smile. “Hoow’s it going?”
He was sure he didn’t know why he hadn’t been expecting that. As usual, a surge annoyance went through him -- but it dispelled a little more quickly than it normally did because -- well. She looked nervous. And also because she looked hot as fuck.
“Er--good. Should we go in?” He straightened his tie a little and rose his eyebrows.
“Yeah,” she nodded, turning and making her way to the doors. Stepping inside, she approached the maitre d’ and told him: “Reservation for two. Bei Fong.” They waited as he checked on the table, because they were a few minutes early apparently. Korra just stood there, staring at nothing, trying not to look at Mako. This was really weird.
Weirdest, maybe. Mako had no idea what he should have been thinking beyond -- well. Nope, he had nothing. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his slacks and then changed his mind and took them out again. He shifted his weight onto his other foot.
“So.” he said, looking up at the light fixtures of the place. “Bei Fong?”
Korra let out a breath. She hoped she didn’t sound too stressed out. “My friend Toph. She, uh, her family is rich or something. She made the reservation.” How were these two managing to make this situation even worse? Seriously, they were so dumb. “This sort of thing isn’t usually my.... sort of thing,” she admitted, laughing awkwardly. “Toph insisted.”
Thank god the maitre d’ came back over and led them to their table. Korra had been drinking earlier, but she was just about sober now. She’d need to rectify that. With her chair pulled out for her, Korra had no idea what to do. She sat back awkwardly and made a weird face as he pushed her in.
Seriously, so out of her element. Could she get chicken fingers here?
Mako seriously doubted that. He sat and just waited with a very non-practiced silence for the Host to leave and please never come back. Once the man was finally gone, Mako awkwardly looked down at his menu, mostly just bewildered with the stuff he found there. What the hell was a Tarragon Sauce anyway?
“So, uh,” he said. “She must be... uh. Pretty connected.” What he really should have been saying was something along the lines of ‘why does your friend know about me anyway?’
Korra had her elbows on the table, and a hand in her hair. Couldn’t she have just put it in a ponytail? She really didn’t have any table manners to speak of. “Yeah, I think she is,” she agreed. “Her parents are apparently really rich. I don’t think she likes her family, though. But she’s got hookups, I guess.”
Looking down at the menu, she seemed to be having as much trouble with it as Mako. She was just going to do eenie meenie to decide. That was it. And god, she really just wanted to rub her eyes, why did Toph have to insist that she wear makeup?
Mako might have wondered the same thing, had he known her friend was blind. Then again, he’d worn eyeshadow earlier in the week himself, so who the hell was he to judge?
Currently, he was thinking that maybe Korra’s friend was a bit an asshole. But -- well. “I like you hair,” he said, a bit lamely.
Korra looked up at Mako with a smile. Her heart was beating quickly again. She was pretty sure that was the nicest thing he’d ever said to her. “Yeah? I’ve always wanted to do something like this. My mom is definitely going to cry about it. That? I’m not looking forward to.”
“Yeah,” he repeated even as he picked up his glass of water -- wondering vaguely why fancy restaurants wanted to put ever liquid in a wine glass. “Really. I mean -- it looks really cool. Maybe your mom will think so too.”
“Doubt it, but maybe,” she said. Her mom was the type that had never let Korra dye her hair, because she loved the natural colour. Korra had always wanted to do something crazy like this. She was smiling shyly at Mako’s continued compliments, running a hand through her hair.
When the server came over to introduce himself, Korra shot back from her lean on the table and sat up straight. She smiled awkwardly up at him as she ordered a bottle of wine, looking to Mako to see what he wanted. Because clearly she planned on getting that liquid courage up and running.
Wait. Had she serious just ordered a bottle of wine? For … not sharing? Or? No. That couldn’t be. Mako waved off the idea of getting something else because no one ordered a bottle of wine to themselves.
He probably could have ordered right away, but the waiter seemed intent on going about things in a proper order and walked away after the wine order.
Mako looked up at the ceiling again. “So...”
Korra just looked at Mako for a minute. He was clearly disinterested or something. Why else would he be just staring at the ceiling? “You don’t really want to be here, do you?” There you go, Korra’s self-confidence (as usual) not holding up so well across the table from the model that was Mako.
Mako’s gaze shot back to her, eyebrows raised in genuine confusion. “What? No -- that’s not it at all.” Well, there went the neighborhood. Already. Unless he could be less of an idiot for once (although he still maintained he never started this shit). “I’m just not used to -- you know. Places like this.”
Korra kept her eyes on Mako’s, lifting her brows right back at him. They totally couldn’t fight in this nice of a place. She tried to stamp down her anger and succeeded this time. “Okay.” She just ran a hand through her hair and sat back as the wine was brought over. They went through the process, and the server asked if they were ready to order. To be honest, Korra was still just going to order something randomly. So she did.
Mako ordered the thing he’d found that looked safest. It said something about beef, and that was good, right? He liked beef.
When the waiter was gone, most likely thinking them heathens, Mako lifted his wine glass. “No really,” he said giving a little laugh, “I think the fanciest places I’ve been in forever was probably Applebee’s. And they don’t make you wonder what every single fork is for at a place like that.”
Korra had to laugh at that. They really were similar. “Yeah, I have no idea why Toph thought we’d have fun here. She’s just so insistent. If you ever meet her, you’ll see why.” She lifted her wine glass and took a great big sip. It could have been called a gulp. So very ladylike. “Might have preferred something like that, to be honest.”
She had her elbows back on the table, leaning as she would have if she wasn’t in a fancy place. With a very low cut dress. “Maybe the food’s good or something.” It had to be. It was fucking expensive. Good thing Toph was taking care of it.
Mako didn’t know what ‘you’ll see why’ meant in regards to her friend, and wasn’t sure he wanted to. Maybe she was unattractive? Vicarious living through beautiful people? He swallowed, feeling bad for even thinking that.
“Hopefully,” he said, glad that the crisis had been averted. For now. “So -- uhm. How’ve you been?” People were supposed to ask that sort of thing on dates, right?
Sure. Totally. Small talk is always fun. “I’ve been good,” she said, shrugging. “Slowly recovered from that whole Wonderland thing. How about you?” Korra wasn’t good at small talk. She just didn’t really care about that stuff, and so hardly ever partook in it. Why not skip the talking and get to... other stuff?
She meant sports. Totally sports. “How’s school?”
He wasn’t terribly good at it either. Especially when the other person didn’t seem terribly interested in it. “Oh. You know. Uhm. Good. School. I go to classes. Now that they aren’t giant trees.” Useless, these two were.
“Good.” This was awkward. There was a long silence as she looked around the place. It was pretty full, with lots of rich-looking people. She was definitely the only one with oddly-coloured hair in there. Korra was feeling a bit self-conscious, which led her to lean over more. And let her hair fall forward to cover her face.
Seriously. She took a very large-sized gulp of wine, just looking up at Mako through her lashes.
Mako could never really believe that this girl had a lack in self esteem. She was fucking gorgeous -- and the blue hair was seriously the coolest thing he’d seen all day. His breath hitched a little with the way she was looking at him, and he could only hold his wine glass up in the air -- just hovering there in his hand while he stared back.
Korra held his gaze for a little bit before looking away. MAYBE she would think she was hotter if some people didn’t tell her she wasn’t pretty. “Um,” she said, though she hadn’t thought of anything to follow that. Her pause was a little longer than normal. “Yeah... How’s um,” what sport did he play? “Volleyball?” That’s the one. She looked back at him. Had he been staring the whole time?
He had. And MAYBE someone would say so if she didn’t act so crazy all the time. Then again, she was being pretty normal right now. And they both knew they didn’t give enough of a fuck to really talk about how his volleyball was going.
So he cleared his throat. “You -- uh. You look really nice.”
There was that blush again. Had she ever blushed so much before? Her cheeks and neck felt hot, and she turned her head a bit. She felt like a bashful teenager all over again. Why did Mako always make her go all melty? “Oh, um,” she swallowed, looking away. “Thanks. You do too. I like your suit.”
The fuck? Why were they getting along? This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Or was it? Mako smiled, but tried his damnedest not to look too happy with her compliment, lest she flip out and flip the table and all it’s crystal cups over on him. “Thanks. Uh--how did you get your hair blue, anyway?” Someday it was possible that they might learn to have a proper conversation with each other, but it was probably a long time coming.
It probably was. At least their tongues got along, right? “Uh, Toph has really crazy hair. Like pink and red and... stuff,” she said, having to censor herself in such a nice place. “I said I wanted blue. So she took me to the place she goes to. And, uh, this.” She made a waving motion.
And oh, thank god. Their first course came. What the fuck had she ordered again? She thanked their server and then started poking at it. At least it looked pretty?
Mako smirked at her avoidance of swearing, terribly amused by it. “Pink would be cute too,” he said, after a moment of both of them staring at their food. “Why is it that the more food tends to cost at restaurants, the less of it you seem to get?” Mako asked, lost. In what world was that shit okay, anyway?
Korra had just taken a drink of her wine, so laughing made that quite awkward. She managed to keep the laugh urge down enough to swallow, but definitely laughed wholeheartedly after it. “Honestly,” she agreed, shaking her head as she picked up what she thought was the correct fork. She started eating because that might be a good idea with the amount of wine she’d already drank. Speaking of which, the waiter had topped up their glasses when he’d brought their food. A welcome thing as she took a long drink of it.
“And there’s so much cutlery to choose from.” She was starting to feel a bit tipsy.
“Right?” said Mako, who was in the same boat she was. Ships were sailor, or something. He stared at all his forks and then couldn’t help himself when he picked up the teeny-tiniest one. “This one,” he decided, holding it up. “Goes with the size of the meal. It’s meant to be.”
“Sure is,” she agreed. Making work on her food, it was finished quickly. Because that plate was tiny and shit. And Korra was definitely a fast eater. “That was, uh. Not very much.” And now she was laughing. Because how ridiculous was this situation? “I think I’m going to starve.” She should probably not be laughing as hard as she was.
Mako was really liking this giggly, fun, almost shy version of Korra. The short dress and heels helped too, but that wasn’t the point. He finished his meal almost as quickly, and nodded in vague agreement. “Don’t worry, girl,” he said, going for funny or bust, “I’ll get you a value meal when we’re done here.”
Korra didn’t even know how to respond to that. She just rolled her eyes and grinned. “My hero,” she mumbled around her glass. Yeah, the wine was making her feel better. “I honestly don’t know why Toph thought this place would be a good idea. I’d be happy with McDonald’s.” Seriously, she would be. Even if Toph had forced her to get all done up for that too.
Mako only gave a shrug at that, because he had no idea either. He didn’t know her friend. Was kind of scared about the prospect of ever having to, in fact. “Maybe she just likes it when people feel stupid,” he muttered.
“Excuse me?” she asked, flipping that switch (as she does). She put her wine glass down with a splash. Not even suspecting she’d misheard him saying that she was stupid (how much wine had she had? Oh, and the beer). “Stupid?” she hissed quietly. Because getting rowdy in the middle of a fancy restaurant isn’t exactly classy shit, man.
And there Mako went, eyes widening enough where maybe he was just a deer in headlights again. This girl was impossible. Seriously. One second he could have a sense of humor, and the next he was being crucified as a heathen. “What?”
Ugh, and there was the anger. It was building up. She felt like she was going to burst. The moment she started seeing red, she put both hands on the table and pushed herself to standing. Because she couldn’t blow up in here. She just had to get somewhere else. And here she’d thought things were going well.
Korra stormed past the server, who was bringing their second course to the table. She retreated straight to the bathrooms, pausing at the communal one when she saw the attendant. That wouldn’t do. Turning, she saw one of those single-stall handicapped bathrooms. And went straight in, putting both hands on the counter. She just stared at herself in the mirror, trying to calm herself down.
Ugh, thought Mako. Again. But at the same time, his stomach was flipping a little bit -- and it wasn’t so much out of annoyance was it was anticipation. It was disgusting of him, he knew, that he enjoyed seeing Korra angry. There was something wrong with him that he delighted in seeing just what was going to happen next.
This was her fault, he decided. Korra’s fault that he felt this way. That he had some horrible Pavlovian response to seeing her angry, and only being able to think that something good was going to come of it. That made him angry, too.
So, like an idiot, he followed her. Rushing past the waitress, who he didnt even notice looked puzzled, and straight into the little bathroom that he’d seen her push her way into. The door slammed behind him. And he just stood there, staring at her for a moment.
He was definitely both the first and last person she wanted to see in that moment. Korra was frustrated about the whole thing. Why did he have to make her feel so conflicted? It made her want to punch things. Lots of things. She was staring at Mako through the mirror as she bundled her hand into a fist and punched the counter. God, he pissed her off and turned her on all at once. What was that shit?
“What do you want?” she asked, clearly still mad.
“Well,” he said, giving pause as if her punching the counter had nearly shocked him into silence. “I know what I don’t want,” he said finally. “And that’s to drive you to the damn emergency room because you feel the need to punch marble fixtures.”
Korra lifted her eyebrows as she continued watching him in the mirror. God, she just wanted to punch the counter again to piss him off. Always one to listen to her impulses, she followed through with it and punched again. Well, now her knuckles hurt. The price you pay for having a temper.
“And what do you want with me?” she demanded, sounding angry. “I don’t understand you. At all.” She leaned back on the counter and let out a breath. “One second you hate me. The next, you’re kissing me. What’s up with that?”
Uh, no, girlfriend. That’s all you. Mako? He’s just a nice, cute, innocent boy. You’re ruining him. Or something.
“I could say the same of you,” Mako said, stepping a little closer with the vague intentions of making sure he hand was okay. But she didn’t turn around, and so he was just standing behind her, peering into her blue eyes by reflection of the mirror. “But I’m here because you invited me. And because I wanted to come.” No. That was not a double entendre.
Korra, at his mental command, turned toward Mako. She was holding her injured hand in the other, stroking it as if it might help. She’d probably need some ice, but that wasn’t her main thought right then. She was more interested in staring daggers at Mako. “So, did you intentionally come and try to piss me off?”
“No,” said Mako, and he tried to will as much earnestness into his eyes as possible. Look, Korra. Look at these light brown puppy dog eyes. Tell me that they aren’t telling the truth, they seemed to say. “I didn’t.”
Instead of apologizing - because it wasn’t his fault, man - he leaned forward, settling both hands on either side of the counter behind her, and then kissed her. Because she wasn’t the only one who knew how to make the first move. Sort of. Okay, yeah she was.
Yeah, she definitely was. It wasn’t exactly the first move, either. If they were really counting, it was the third, really. But Korra wasn’t concerned about that in the moment. She was far more concerned with lacing her fingers in Mako’s hair, and responding to his mouth’s assault. She breathed into it, pulling him as close as she could. She decided that this was much better than the dinner idea. Much, much better.
Way better than dinner. That second course could sit there and rot for all the fucks Mako gave about it. They were so pressed up against one another that Mako didn’t give a second thought to lifting her up and having her sit on the counter of the sink -- he just did it, fingers pressing into her hips and lips gnashing against hers.
Korra went up without complaint, biting Mako’s lip as if complimenting him on the idea. She settled her legs around his hips, feet curling around his thighs. Having entirely forgotten she was wearing a dress and not pants, she was unaware of how intimate this really was. Well, okay, she had a pretty good idea. But Mako wasn’t exactly able to control that bit of this encounter. “This,” she breathed between kisses. “Is so fucked up.”
Yes, yes it was.
Inclined to agree with her, Mako nearly vocalized it -- but stopped himself at the last second. He really wouldn’t be able to handle it if his next words pissed her off more and she ended the whole evening before it even really started. Instead, he huffed out a little breath and pressed his lips to hers again. His hands slide to hold her legs up where they were resting against his hips.
It really was a very -- well. Sexual position that they’d gotten themselves into. If Mako had been a smarter man, he might have tried seeing if they’d locked the door.
With her hands on his shoulders, Korra disconnected from his lips and dipped her head to his jawline. She bit him (quite hard, really) and then kissed it better, arching her back a bit as she continued with that for a moment.
Her hands slid down from his shoulders, following his arms down till she reached his hands. Forcing him to pull on her legs, she scooted forward, grinning as she breathed against his neck. This was probably a bad idea, with the door very much unlocked. But she wasn’t really thinking on that.
And anyway, if they got kicked out for making out in the bathroom, Toph would probably high five Korra. Probably.
She totally would.
Mako was positive he’d have a bruise on his face in the next coming days, but couldn’t be bothered to care -- not like he didn’t have to wear make-up for his modeling stints, anyway.
Hands curving under Korra’s ass, he pulled her forward even a little more, until their bodies met nearly completely. Poor Korra’s skirt wasn’t really a skirt anymore so much as a --well -- long shirt.
Pressing his hips forward was his way of saying that he totally was excited to be here, thanks very much. There’s no way his obvious erection was lying.
Korra wasn’t complaining. In fact, she wasn’t doing much of anything that would resemble complaint. Mouth still at his ear, she breathed his name, raspy and lustful with a small groan following it.
With his hips pressing forward, she lost all sense of logic and reason. Her legs tightened around him as her hands traveled to his face. Cupping the back of his head with her long fingers, her thumbs pressed into his cheeks as she moved her lips back to his. Sucking on his lower lip, she breathed heavily before pulling it through her teeth. God, he tasted like fire.
And he would, wouldn’t he?
He liked hearing his name on her lips almost as much as he liked the fact that she couldn’t really say much of anything else. There was something intoxicating about the little sounds she was making, and he felt nearly high on it all.
He kissed her again; hard, teeth fighting back against the biting battle that she was so obviously winning - grazing against her bottom lip and tongue. Mako slid a hand away from her ass -- running it over her upper thigh and then forward more. Undergarments, he decided as he hooked his fingers deftly underneath them, were the devil.
Korra agreed. Or would have, if he’d voiced that reasoning. She shook a bit as his hand traveled up her thigh, her back arching toward him. It caused her lips to disconnect from his, and she opened her eyes as she set her hands on the counter behind her. Her legs acquiesced his silent wish, unhooking from behind his thighs to just sit at his hips.
Breathing heavily, she watched him with a (slightly predatory) grin. She’d let him win this round.
Yeah well, fine. He’d take this victory. If he had to.
Her grin was encouraging, admittedly - there was something like a challenge there and -- well -- he took it as one. His challenge? To make her stop looking at him like that. To make her throw her head back and make noises that she wouldn’t normally let herself. To make her completely forgive him (for whatever the hell it was he’d done, anyway. He couldn’t remember).
Tilting his hand down further, he brushed his fingers near teasingly against her.
She squirmed, and felt her hips get a mind of their own and rise to the occasion. They pushed up toward his teasing hand (had she done that?). She was just watching his eyes, trying to figure out what was going on in that pretty little head of his. Korra was not one to like lack of control. She wanted to push him where she wanted to go.
And so she let her impulse take over, reaching for the waistband of his pants greedily. Claimed his lips with hers hungrily. Fighting for control, or something.
Hey, Korra. I’m fucking busy over here. Not that he was going to say that, because, you know. Still, he didn’t stop what he was doing either, because that would have been rude. And counter productive to his challenge. Instead, the two of them would have to find some semblance of balance with their arm space.
Groaning a little in antici(pation), Mako kissed back yet again, even as he very intentionally slid a long, angling finger into her.
Korra had gotten partway finished with what she was doing when, oh, hi, that’s distracting. With his button now open, her hands just staying where they were. She breathed into his mouth, the end of it sounding a bit like a whimper. Her chest pressed tight against his as her hips moved to give him better access.
It was kind of funny. The first time these two had ever really been in such a fine establishment, and they were more interested in getting each other out of their clothes than looking any sort of proper. Speaking of which, Korra continued her work on Mako’s pants as she bit his upper lip, hissing her appreciation of the situation.
Eh, being fancy was for the birds -- Mako had no use for it, especially when it came to things like dates. Anyway, this wa way better than any food on a fancy, stupidly pronged fork.
He brushed her hands away from his waistline with his free hand-- there’d be plenty of time for that later -- even as he experimentally curved his finger inside of her. Damn, she was hot.
So enrapt in this, he honestly didn’t even notice when the door to the bathroom opened.
Korra’s head arched back as Mako’s finger curved, face disconnecting from his, her eyes opening just in time to see the door opening.
Oh my fucking god. That was all that went through Korra’s head as her eyes met the ones that belonged to the bathroom’s next guest. He looked just about as mortified as she did, and let himself out quickly after. Before he’d made his retreat though, Korra had already put her hands on Mako’s shoulders and shoved him back roughly.
She was blushing. Mortified. Embarrassed. Terrified. Adrenaline was pumping as her heart went into overdrive, because how fucking terrible was that?
“You didn’t fucking lock the door?!” she demanded as she hopped off the counter. God, she probably looked like a huge mess. She made work of pulling her skirt back down as her face went red. She wanted to cry. Or scream. Or punch Mako in the face.
But she didn’t. What she did do was storm out of the room, because holy fuck she had to get out of there. Passing their server on the way out, she just mumbled a “Charge it to our tab,” to the very confused staff. And then exited the building. She wasn’t wasting any time getting out of there, with the intention of running home.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How was he supposed to know he was meant to lock the door? Wouldn’t have that been kind of fucking creepy? To lock a girl in the bathroom when she’d gone in there to be alone? What did he look like, some kind of creep rapist?
Starting after her, he only just barely remembered to button his pants again. Mako didn’t bother talking to the waiters or the Maitre’D as he raced out after her -- practically slamming the doors open.
“Hey, no, wait!” He called out at her retreating form, feeling stupid and embarrassed and frantic about it all. How dumb were they? Why couldn’t he just act like a normal fucking human being around her?
“Let me -- at least -- I have a car--”
Korra didn’t want to stick around. She was panicking when she heard his voice call out from behind her. Pausing, she leaned over and started pulling off her heels. She couldn’t run in heels. She really just had to get out.
Without responding, she straightened and started jogging away.
That was when Mako decided that Korra was kind of an idiot. A sweet, adorable one that was prone to intense emotional bouts, sure. But still kind of an idiot.
He watched her with a helpless expression for a moment and then gave a heavy sigh before taking off for the parking lot and fishing his keys out of his pockets even as he ran.
It wasn’t long before he was back on the main street -- driving until he’d caught up with her. The shittiest thing about having such an old car was that power windows were not a thing he had. So while driving, at a stupidly slow pace, he had to lean over to his passengers side door and roll the window down.
Everyone was going to die tonight.
“Get in the car,” he yelled at her.
Korra’s eyes were filled with and spilling angry, embarrassed, confused tears. Her jog had slowed to a walk once she thought she was far enough away that he wouldn’t chase her. Apparently she was wrong.
Wiping at her face, she turned to look at Mako. God, could he not just leave her alone once? She shook her head, looking straight forward as she continued walking. The last thing she wanted to do was get in the car. And she was stubborn.
And oh god. Now it was like a shitty 80s movie, Mako reflected, because he was only driving as fast as her walking allowed, and there were cars honking and passing him, and he was pretty sure someone had just called him a cunt.
But he wouldn’t speed up.
“Korra,” he said again, loud, so she could hear him through all the honking. “please.”
She turned her head again at his pleading tone. Fuck, why did he have to look at her like that? Slowing to a stop, she sighed and approached the car. “Fine,” she said. Once he’d stopped to let her in, she pulled the door open with a loud creak, climbed in (seatbelt on, of course, because her player is totally OCD about that shit) and crossed her arms over her chest. She was frowning as she stared out the window, and wiped a hand across her eyes. “Just take me home.”
Tears. Mako was so not as relieved as he should have been when she finally got into the car and he was allowed to drive at a real speed. Not relieved at all. Because she was crying. And he could deal with being punched and yelled at and being kissed angrily. But he could not deal with tears.
Girls like Korra should never have had to cry, about anything. And maybe that was the exact moment that he realized he didn’t hate her at all. Not even a little bit.
He drove in silence for a time, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had gone a funny color. Minutes passed by and he hadn’t even thought to turn the radio on or anything to break the silence.
It was awful.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “Uh-- do you still. Uhm. I mean. I can get you some McDonald’s or something.”
Korra didn’t look at Mako once. She had stopped crying, but she was still just a bit miserable. Okay, she was totally miserable. She didn’t even think to laugh at what he’d said. If she hadn’t just gone through one of the most embarrassing moments of her life, she would definitely be in for some McDonald’s. But some random had just walked in on Mako with his hand where it should not have been in a public restroom. She was going red just thinking about it.
“I just want to go home,” she said, leaning down to roll up the window.
Mako didn’t try to speak again, until he’d parked his shit-orange little car on the street outside of her place. The engine made an angry sort of noise as they idled there.
“I-- uhm. I’m really sorry,” he said, because he was.
“No, it’s okay,” she told him, shaking her head. “It’s not your fault.” Was the world ending? “I should have known better. I just hope that Toph doesn’t get pissed.”
She undid her seatbelt and turned, looking at Mako finally. “Thanks for going with me, I guess.”
The world might have been ending. Even then, Mako didn’t expect he was about to get invited in for one last coffee before everything died.
“Er-- right. It’s -- you know. It’s okay. Maybe next time will go better.”
Next time? Korra hadn’t really thought that far ahead. In fact, just a few minutes ago she was hoping to never see Mako again. She just stared at him, eyes big and blue and surprised as she tried to decipher what he meant by that. But she was slow, apparently. So she had to ask: “Next time?”
Mako suddenly looked very abashed and unsure of himself -- turning a faint shade of pink. Was that something he shouldn’t have said? He scratched the back of his neck, awkward. Uncomfortable.
“Well. I mean. You know. If you want to.” Because, yes, Mako. Girls who were publicly humiliated in handicapped bathrooms in fancy restaurants totally love going on second dates.
Oh yes they totally did. Well, probably. Korra didn’t really know what to do about this whole situation. And she wasn’t really a typical girl, anyway. Amanda would probably know what to do in this situation. “Um. Okay,” was what she came up with. She smiled (it couldn’t really be called a smile though, her lips just sort of turned up) and nodded. “Call me, I guess?”
Mako nodded, sort of shocked into silence. What else could he do but nod? After tonight he hadn’t even really been expecting that.
“O-okay,” he said finally, and gave a smile too. And it was a stupid, kind of big one.
Korra was about to open the car door and head inside when a thought crossed her mind. She turned back to Mako with a smile (a real one this time), leaned over the console and pressed her lips to his in a chaste, but sweet kiss. She bid him “Goodnight,” but not goodbye, lingering a moment before picking up her heels, opening the door and stepping out. She made her way barefoot toward her apartment building, ready to go upstairs and die of embarrassment.
Mako sat in amazed silence for a moment, and had he been a younger boy, he was sure he might have sworn off washing his lips for a while, there. He shook his head to clear his brain and get it back into working order. Grinning, he put his car back into drive. “Your hair was really cool!” He called again, even as he sped off at exactly the speed limit into the night.