She kissed him goodbye at the door, promised to see him at practice the next morning, and the second Korra left, Mako all but ran to the bedroom. He had been painfully hard for the last hour they had been hanging out, listening to the radio and making out. Trying to pretend that he wasn't had become impossible, but if Korra wasn't going to bring it up, than he wasn't either.

As he took himself in his hand, Mako started to think about Korra, what he wanted to do but couldn't yet. They just made out all of the time, she wasn't ready for anything else yet, she hadn't before- which Mako understood, but he missed sex. He started to stroke himself to thought off pulling off Korra's top, kissing between her breasts, slipping a hand down her pants to feel just how wet she got for him.

He pictured her undressing in front of him. She wore tight bindings under her clothes, Mako could feel them when they made out on the sofa, grinding against each other and touching everywhere above clothes. Mako found the idea of unwrapping them from around her oddly sexy, kissing her skin as he went. It wouldn't be like with Asami; she had worn those little modern undergarments with all the clasps. Mako found his mind drifting back to that memory. It had been his first time ever, with her. Mako remembered his hands shaking so much trying to take the damn things off of her that she had finally stepped back with a gentle laugh and done it herself.

Asami had been all tiny straps and delicate lace, wide expanses of smooth skin that he hadn't been able to stop touching. Mako felt almost guilty remembering just how beautiful she had looked, and just how close to her he had felt in that moment. Not just the feeling of incredible heat and tightness when he had pushed inside of her, but the warmth he had felt when they had clung to each other afterward, lazy under sheets, not able to stop running their hands across each other's naked bodies. Asami had dragged her fingers over his bare chest, he had kept his hand cupped innocently around her waist, and they had just stayed there intwined with each other for hours in the dark, talking about anything- everything. Mako remembered feeling so full, wishing that the night would never end.

Just how was it that it had ended?

His thoughts had gotten off-track and the movements of his hand had slowed. Mako pushed his mind back to baser things. The time right after they had moved their things into the Sato mansion. They had been swimming and she had put her arms around him and he had spun her around in the water. They started kissing against the side of the pool and soon Asami's hands were sliding to touch him below his waist.

"Not here," Mako whispered as he kissed behind her ear. "Bolin could come in any second. Or your dad. Or anyone."

"Come on," Asami said, wrapping her legs effortlessly around his waist in the water. She ground against him once, and Mako stuttered out a moan. She began to slide out of her swimsuit, letting it float away as she then attempted to disrobe Mako of his. He could only concentrate on the pearls of water balanced on top of her breasts, the sensation of her soft palm wrapping around him.

Presently, Mako began to jerk himself off harder at the memories of sliding into her, fucking her against the side of the pool. Her cheek pressed into the side of his neck, her fingers digging into his back. The way he had been able to feel her come around him, quiet but making desperate little noises right next to his ear. Lying in bed, he concentrated on thrusting into her, biting her neck, sucking on her nipples until finally Mako felt himself peak. He cried out from the force of it before sucking air back in, coming all over his hands.

After his head stopped swimming and his breathing settled down, Mako rolled over to find something to wipe off his hands and stomach with. The pleasure was fading and now he was just feeling kind of sick and gross.

He thought about going to see her. He thought about talking to her and apologizing for what he had done. Quickly, though, Mako dismissed the idea. What would he even say? He didn't have any answers for her, why he had changed his mind so quickly. He didn't even really know. He had just wanted Korra so badly when he wasn't supposed to have her, he had thought of her so often in this exact situation- and now, when he was with Korra, he was back to thinking of Asami. It wasn't that he wanted his girlfriend any less, but the memories existed, so it wasn't so wrong to tread back to them. Right? Mako wiped himself down with a handkerchief, then tossed it aside to wash later.

She probably wouldn't want to hear from him anyway. Mako swallowed heavily and pictured attempting to talk with her and how awkward it would probably be for the both of them. It wouldn't be worth it. He would probably end up sounding like a fucking idiot because he wouldn't be able to think of a way to phrase the words so that she would get it. And really, what had he done that was so wrong? Just wanting someone else wasn't a crime. He hadn't cheated. Unless kissing once counted as cheating. And Korra had kissed him. And Asami knew about that already. Maybe he had done wrong, slightly, but what good would admitting that do? It wouldn't change the way things had turned out. He wouldn't want to change how things turned out. There was nothing else he could tell her, really, but still a dull ache was settled in his stomach. It wouldn't go away and he had no idea how to quell it. Whatever.

Mako sprawled out on his back, staring at the ceiling, pants still half-down. He had lied on this bed with her, her naked body aligned with his and her face pressed up into his shoulder. "I love you," she had said, and he had repeated the words. He had clutched her loose hair in hands and leaned in to press his lips to her, a kiss she returned with matched need.