Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hey Asami, maybe you can be my date to Eska’s wedding!”

Asami gulped.  This is how I die, she thought. Death by Korra.

“Like,” Asami swallowed again, trying to get some moisture into her mouth.  “Like as friends?”

“Come on, you know what I meant, Eska’d never be okay with me bringing a friend,” Korra said.

“Would she be okay with us, you know, both being girls?”

“Oh god yeah, Water Nations are totally fine with that. In fact,” Korra said, eyes brimming with an electric energy Asami frequently got lost in[1]. “We can pretend to be married! That way even my most persistent aunties will have to leave me alone!  Oh please, please Asami, pleeease?”

It’s not like she and Korra didn’t spend most of their free time together anyway.  It’s not like they didn’t share an apartment.  It’s not like they didn’t already cuddle on this very couch during Netflix binges[2]. A few days sharing a room (and Christ, probably a bed) together would hardly be different.  Nope.  Not different at all. 

It’s not like I’ve ever been able to say no to her anyway.

“Of course I will, Korra.”

Korra launched herself across the couch to tackle Asami in a hug.  Asami pretended she was breathless because of the force of it, rather than the feeling of Korra’s face pressing into her neck.

“Thank you Sami thank you thank you! We’re gonna have so much fun!”

“Yeah,” said Asami, hands clenched with the effort of not threading themselves through Korra’s hair.  “So much fun.”

[1] Also on the list of Things About Korra That Drive Asami To Distraction: the little whispies of hair Korra always missed when tying up her ponytail, the three prominent freckles on Korra’s throat, and her ass

[2] Currently: Orange is the New Black.  Previously: Bojack Horseman.  Never again:  Breaking Bad.  Korra was sympathetic to Walter White and Asami would go purple in the face arguing what an irredeemable monster he was, until a remote was broken and the roommates agreed to watch it separately

Chapter Text

The night before traveling, Asami dialed Mako’s number.

“Hey Sams.  What’s up.”

“So, Korra asked me to go to her cousin’s wedding.”

 “Like. As friends?”

“No.”

“Holy shit!  That’s great!”

“No, Mako.  You know how her family is always trying to set her up?”

“Oh god.  You mean like a fake date?”

“Like a fake wife.”

“Christ.”

“Yeah.”

“You gotta tell her, Sami.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Sure you can.  We’re all rooting for you.”

“‘Hey Korra, remember five years ago when I told you I had feelings for you and you said you didn’t feel the same way and we spent months and months rebuilding our friendship?  Well, I lied about being over it, I’m batshit balls deep bananapants in love with you, so why don’t you marry me for real!’”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Mako!”

“Sorry, Sams.  It’s just—things have changed, I dated both of you in the last five years, or did you forget?”

“I try to.”

“Thanks.  But seriously, I think you should go for it.  I think Korra might feel the same way.”

“What?  Did she say something?”

“Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?  What did she say!”

“Not—anything.  But I’ve got a good feeling.”

“Oh.”

There was a pressing silence.

“Well, I should get to sleep.  Lots of traveling tomorrow.”

“Asami—”

“Thanks for chatting.  Bye Mako.”

Asami heard Mako sigh.

“Bye, Sams.”

Chapter Text

“Just how much did you actually pack?” said Korra, grunting as she dragged Asami’s bag off of the conveyer belt at the Northern Water Tribe airport.

“What, do you not want your wife to look nice?” Asami sniffed, crossing her arms.  “Don’t pretend like it’s a struggle for you to lift, either.”

“Fair point,” Korra said, lifting it easily over her shoulder.  She struck a pose, chest puffed out and eyebrows wiggling, and Asami couldn’t help but giggle. Korra swung the bag back down and slapped her head.  “Oh! Speaking of wife, there’s something I almost forgot to give you!”

She unzipped a small pocket of her own battered backpack.  She rummaged for a bit and then pulled out a small, velvet box.  Asami’s heart leapt into her throat.

“It’s not much,” Korra said.  “Pema gave it to me when I came out[1]. Um, it was her grandma’s.”

 Korra lifted the lid of the box to reveal a stunning, simple, silver ring, etched with looping vines.  Korra got down on one knee.

“Asami Sato, will you be my fake wife?”

Asami had pictured this moment so many times in so many ways[2], but never quite in the middle of the blue-gray bustle of the Northern Water Tribe airport.  For a moment her brain short-circuited and she couldn’t respond.

“Too much?” Korra said.  “Sami?”

“Yes,” Asami said.  And then again: “yes.”

Korra beamed, scrambled to her feet, and took Asami’s hand in hers.  If she noticed the clamminess, she had the decency not to say anything.  Korra applied a light pressure to Asami’s knuckles and pushed the ring up onto her finger.

“It fits good!” Korra said.

“Well,” Asami whispered.

“Yeah, whatever, married two seconds and you’re already nagging me.  Come on, we should go catch the shuttle.”

“Korra, wait. There’s something I… want to give you, too.”

Asami reached into her purse and pulled out something thin and round and wrapped in white tissue paper.  She handed it to Korra, who seemed to sense it was something delicate, and was uncharacteristically patient in opening it. A flash of silver caught the light and Korra gasped.

“Oh my god, Sams, this is beautiful.”

Korra held the necklace up to more closely inspect it. The stone was a pale gleaming turquoise, etched with the Ravaa symbol of Korra’s faith circled by the crescent moon of Korra’s nation.  It was looped with a blue ribbon the color of Korra’s eyes, and a plain silver band was wired to the top of the stone.

“What’s this?” said Korra, tracing a fingertip along the ring.

“It was my mom’s,” Asami said.

“Oh my god, Asami, I cannot wear this.” Korra went to hand the necklace back to Asami, who tried not to wince. 

“Just for the wedding,” Asami said. She prayed the quiver in her voice was just in her head, and she reached out to curl Korra’s fingers around the necklace.  Asami’s world shrank to a pair of big blue eyes which widened, blinked, and then closed. Korra nodded.  She turned and lifted her ponytail off the back of her neck.   Asami lifted the necklace and draped and tied it around her best friend’s neck. Asami let the tips of her fingers linger for just a moment on the skin stretched over the knot at the top of Korra’s spine.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“Like it?  Fuck, Asami!” Korra let her hair fall and spun around.  She gripped Asami’s upper arms.  “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Well, aside from you. It must have taken you ages.”

Only about six months.

“Nah, just since you asked me to come to the wedding.”

“Have I ever told you how exhausting it is to have a genius for a roommate?” Korra said.  Asami gave a shaky chortle.

“I could stand to hear it more often,” she said.

“Well, come on then, genius.  Talented, unbelievably gorgeous genius,” Korra amended.  She touched her fingers to the stone at her throat before once more hefting Asami’s bag over her shoulder.  “Let’s go catch the shuttle.”

[1] Korra tried to refuse, until Pema asked drily if Korra would like to be the one to decide which of her four children got to have it for their future spouse, instead.  After that, Korra took the ring.

[2] Sunset at the top of Future Industries tower, moonlight in the wild flowers of Air Temple Island, and Korra’s favorite Burger King were her top three fantasies du jour

Chapter Text

Asami nibbled at her bottom lip before dialing Mako’s number again.

“Asami!”

“Oh, hi Bolin.  Is your brother there?”

“Yeah he’s—it’s Asami, don’t—”

Asami heard the sounds of a brotherly scuffle on the other line, followed by Bolin’s sharp yelp.

“Hey Sams,” said Mako’s voice.  “How’s the North?”

“Cold, pretty.  This hotel is weird as hell, though.  All gothic-ice-princess motif.  Like bats in igloos and shit.”

“That sounds like Eska.”

“I guess her dad let her design it for her birthday present a few years back.”

“Fuckin rich people.  Oh, uh, no offense, Asami.”

“None taken.”

“So.  How’s Korra?”

“She gave me a wedding ring.”

“She WHAT?” Bolin’s voice was faint but clear.

“Am I on speaker phone? What the hell, Mako.”

“I told you, we’re all rooting for you.”

“Fuck, who is ‘we?’”

There was a brief silence.

“Hi, Sami.”  That was definitely Opal.

“Hey, Asami!” And that was Jinora and Kai.

“I’m here too.”

“Mako, you told Wu about Korra and me?”

“I’m taking you off speaker.”

Asami took a deep breath while Mako presumably walked into a different room.

“Sorry.  But it’s so obvious, Sami.”

“Yeah.  Yeah I know.”

“To everyone but Korra.”

“I know.”

“You gotta tell her.”

“I can’t!”

“Then why are you calling me?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do.”

Asami bit her lip again, trying to ignore the stinging feeling behind her eyeballs.

“Sams,” Mako said, voice gentle.  “Did you give her the necklace?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“She liked it.”

“And?”

“She tried to give it back when I told her the ring was my mom’s.”

“That sounds like Korra.”

“Yeah.  I should go.”

“Bye, Sami.”

“Bye, Mako.  Thanks.”

Chapter Text

“I hate this,” Korra growled, plucking at the rope of skull-pearls circling her waist.  “This is so dumb.  I hate it.”

Asami’s jaw ached with the desperate clenching of trying not to laugh.  The dress was truly awful.  The skirt was floor length, with spiraling layers of baby blue satin, navy blue ruffles, and black lace, puffing out in a diameter almost as wide as Korra was tall.  The bodice had matching vertical blue stripes overlaid by skull patterned lace, climbing up and around to sleeveless shoulders and an awkward, frilly turtle neck.  There were matching black satin bicep-length gloves embroidered with what looked suspiciously like drops of blood^[1].  Every time Korra moved, the slate gray skull-carved beads clacked together around her waist and wrists.

“The color is nice^[2],” Asami offered.

“The color is nice,” Korra echoed in a simper.  “You get to look awesome while I look like some kind of—some kind of—”

“Victorian horror prom queen?”

“Like the stay puft marshmallow nightmare!”

Asami doubled over and surrendered to laughter.  Through her tears, she could see Korra’s scowl dissipate slowly into a crooked grin, until they were both wheezing so hard that Korra lost her balance and fell backward onto the hotel bed, which made Asami laugh even harder.  Korra flailed her arms, rolling and clacking amongst the ruffles, until finally Asami got it together long enough to hold a hand out to help Korra off the bed.

Except Korra yanked Asami down beside her and held her down with one arm, pulling up her shirt with the other to blow a huge raspberry on Asami’s stomach.

“Korra—ah—ahh!”

“That’s what you get!” Korra said.  “For laughing at an Eska original!”

They wrestled briefly^[3], yelping and giggling, before Asami called uncle and they both fell back panting.  There was a comfortable silence, faces turned toward each other.  Asami was a bit dazed, because Korra was brighteyed and smiling and had yanked the glove off her hand with her teeth to rest it on top of Asami’s.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Mmm?” said Asami.

“I only have to wear it for the ceremony.  I can wear something else for the reception.”

“That’s good.  That’s good.”

Another silence.  Korra twisted her neck to look up at the ceiling^[4].  She touched her fingertips to the betrothal necklace, idly tracing around Asami’s mother’s ring.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked after a while, giving Asami’s hand a squeeze.

“I’ve been to weddings before, you know.”

“Not Water Tribe weddings^[5].  And that’s not what I meant.  I meant.”  Korra raised their clasped hands.  “This?  It’s not weird for you?”

“Oh.  Oh.  Oh, no.  No.  No, it’s not.  That was five years ago.  You know I don’t—you know I’m fine now.  Besides,” Asami prayed her voice was even.  “You want the hottest wife possible, right?  I’m your girl.”

Korra made a noise that was half humming laugh and half sigh.

“That you are, Sams, that you are.”

^[1] They were definitely drops of blood.

^[2] Asami had a thing for blue, for some reason.

^[3] Never, ever, tell Korra ‘I could probably take you in a wrestling match.’  She will never let you forget it.  Ever.

^[4] Decorated in the background with vivid dancing Northern lights, and in the foreground with several werewolves twisted in mid-transformation agony.  Actually, it really helped Asami sleep next to Korra, because it was about the least sexy thing she could ever think of

^[5] To be expected: at least a few drunken uncles challenging each other to fish-slapping contests (which are exactly what they sound like), a few people getting more naked than they ought to be and jumping into the still frigid Northern Sea, and definitely someone starting several consecutive rounds of karaoke when they manage to steal a microphone

Chapter Text

Asami found respite in an aqua-tiled, shark themed restroom to text Mako.

--I don’t think Kor’s fam believes we’re rly married.

They’re all skeptical af

--did you kiss?

--Shut up

--you have to kiss that’s what married ppl do.

 i’m gonna text her that you should make out

--Don’t you ducking dare

--too late

--I hate you!

--love you too. love you both

Chapter Text

Asami reentered the hotel restaurant, letting the chatter of Korra’s family wash over her and calm her nerves.  Korra was deep in conversation with her fellow bridesmaid, Anaya.  Asami felt a hot stab of jealousy in her gut before she reminded herself that Anaya was Korra’s cousin, and even if she weren’t, Asami had no actual claim on Korra for which to be jealous in the first place.  She waded through the crowded tables and sank into her seat.

“—really think that the Ferrets stand an honest chance to win the cup this year?” Anaya was saying.

“More than an honest chance!^[1]” said Korra.  “Look, I know last season was rough^[2], but—Oh, welcome back, Asami!  Naya, this is Asami, my, um, wife,” Korra said, stroking her fingers down the stone at her throat.

Anaya extended a hand that was a few shades lighter than Korra’s, with nails painted a pale powder blue.  She wore a beautiful pink fur-trimmed dress that skimmed across her collar bones and her mahogany colored hair was done up in an elegant Water Tribe style, with loops around the back and braids coming down the sides.  Anaya’s eyes were grayer than Korra’s, and almost as nice.  Asami shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you,” said Asami.  She felt Korra’s arm snake around her shoulders.

“Likewise.  Korra’s told me all about you, but I didn’t know you had gotten married.  Or even,” Anaya produced a mild humming chuckle—“that you were in a relationship in the first place.  When was the wedding?”

“Recently,” said Korra.  “We are very in love, so you can stop flirting, cousin.”

Anaya laughed again and withdrew her hand.

“Can you blame me?  Your wife is lovely.  Only I didn’t get an invitation.”

“We eloped,” Korra said.

“Recently?” Anaya offered.

“Very recently,” Korra agreed, glowering.

“Hmm,” Anaya said.  Asami gulped.  It was now or never^[3].  She reached out to touch the opposite side of Korra’s chin lightly with her long fingers, applying a soft pressure to ask Korra to turn her head.  She did, meeting Asami’s eyes with a quizzical little crease between her eyebrows.  Asami took a deep breath, leaned forward, closed her eyes, and touched her lips to Korra’s.

For an agonizing moment, Korra went rigid.  Then Korra relaxed.  And then, and then—she more than relaxed, curling the hand of the arm already around her into Asami’s hair, lips pliant and soft and willing.

“Ah, newlyweds,” said Anaya, the skepticism gone from her voice.  Korra broke the kiss and her hold on Asami and leaned sharply backward.  Asami was pretty sure human hearts shouldn’t beat as fast as hers was, and there were deep spots of pink on Korra’s cheeks.

“Korra, do your—” Anaya glanced around the table before leaning forward and lowering her voice. “Parents know about this?”

“Has my phone been going ballistic since I told the family?” said Korra, grimacing. 

“Ah,” said Anaya.  “And they approve?”

“My parents love Asami,” Korra said.

Well, that wasn’t a lie, at least^[4].  Asami was very grateful they had decided to tell Korra’s parents about the fake married plan.

 “Frankly, I can’t believe Uncle Unalaq let you come, let alone be in Eska’s bridal party.”

“Yeah, I was surprised too.  Maybe he figured the dress would be torturous enough even my dad would feel it.”

Asami tried to join in on the cousins’ giggling in a convincing manner, but her head was buzzing and her lips were on fire.

^[1] Korra was lying to herself.

^[2] They won less than a quarter of their games.

^[3] Technically they had kissed before, but Asami was pretty sure it didn’t count because Korra had gone through an intense Godfather obsession a few years back, until she and Mako had had a screaming match about whether “Fredo kisses” counted as cheating.  It was a very confusing month of Asami’s life

^[4] In fact, Tonraq and Senna knew about Asami’s feelings for Korra, and were 100% supportive.  She was a frequent houseguest during holidays and other visits, so it was not hard to figure out.  They also could not understand how Korra didn’t know what was going on

Chapter Text

“So did you kiss?”

Asami put a hand over her cell phone microphone and blew smoke out of her lungs, courtesy of the egregiously priced cigarettes obtained in the hotel gift shop.

“Yeah, Mako, we did.”

“Hell yeah!  Was it good?”

“Yes.  God, yes.  But it’s just pretend.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Sami?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you really, really sure?”

“Yes, goddammit.”

“Okay.”

There was a silence.  Asami took another drag.

“Are you gonna tell her?”

“No!”

“Then stop smoking and go to bed, Sams.”

“How did you know?”

“Because I’m a detective.”

“Ass.”

“Because you only ever smoke any more when you’re stressed about Korra.  Or real, real drunk.”

“Good night, detective ass.”

“Good night, Asami.”

Chapter Text

Korra flopped into a seat beside Asami, flung her forearm over her eyes, and groaned dramatically.

“Too early,” she whined.

“It’s not so bad,” Asami said, shaking shut the Republic City newspaper she had wheedled from the front deskperson on her way to breakfast.  “Want me to get you some bacon?”

“First you need to teach me your secrets,” Korra said.  “How did you manage to beat me out of bed and put on a full face of perfect makeup, despite skulking around our balcony smoking cigarettes all night?”

Asami flushed.  “You, uh, noticed that?”

“Of course I did,” Korra said, a devilish grin on her face as she peaked at Asami from beneath her elbow.  “There are no secrets in a marriage bed.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Korra said, and her expression dimmed.  “I know my family’s a bit much.  You can make it up to me by getting me breakfast.”

Asami nodded and pushed herself away from the table and headed toward the buffet.  She filled a plate with Korra’s favorite breakfast foods:  eggs, biscuits, yogurt, bacon, and waffles, and slathered the whole pile of it in Mrs. Butterworth’s^[1].  Asami hesitated before grabbing an apple too, even though she knew it would probably go uneaten^[2].

In Asami’s absence, their table’s empty seats had filled with a trio of older women all leaning toward a redfaced Korra and clucking like hens.

“—really, Korra dear, you don’t want to end up like Tonraq—”

“—blic City is even more foreign than that awful Southern Water Tribe, I think that—”

“—so many nice girls up here, there’s even some kind of lesbian club that meets—”

“I’m not a lesbian!” Korra said, which shocked the three women into silence. 

“I mean.  I’m bi,” she muttered.  Asami felt that this was her queue, and swooped toward the table.  She placed the apple and breakfast plate in front of Korra, grabbed the darker girl’s face in her hands, and leaned forward.

Korra was ready this time, apparently.  She reached up to clutch around Asami’s neck and leaned into the kiss, closing her eyes as their lips pressed together.  Asami wasn’t sure whose tongue squirmed forward first, but for a glorious moment the sounds of chatter and clinking silverware shrank into silence as their mouths moved together.

“Ahem.”

Asami’s nostrils and throat were burning with Korra’s scent and Korra’s taste and Korra, Korra, Korra—

“AHEM.”

There was a faint popping noise as Asami unstuck herself and plunked into the seat beside Korra, whose eyes were still closed.

“Nice to meet you!”  Asami said in a voice she was certain was much higher than usual.  “You must be some of Korra’s aunties!^[3]”

The three women introduced themselves, beady eyes flicking back and forth between Korra and Asami, three sets of eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed.  After courtesies were completed, the women made excuses and drifted away from the table.

Korra had an unfocused expression on her face.  Asami picked up Korra’s hand and molded her fingers around a plastic fork.  Korra frowned at the implement, and then stuck it into her plate to begin mashing everything into one sloppy, syrupy mess.

“Hey,” Asami said, as Korra took a big bite.  “That was okay?”

“Mmf, yeah of course,” Korra said, swallowing.  “I’m sorry, I should have introduced you, not made you do it yourself.”

“No I meant,” Asami bit her lip.  “The kiss?”

“Oh.  Oh.  Yeah.  Yeah, that was good. I mean, it was fine.”  Korra scowled at her plate.  “This syrup tastes fancy.”

“It’s Mrs. Butterworth’s,” Asami said.

“Good,” Korra said.  She jabbed the fork back into her plate and hunched over it.  “Good.”

Korra began to shovel the pile into her mouth.  Asami cleared her throat quietly, trying to disintegrate the lump that had formed there.   She picked up the Republic City paper and resumed reading.

^[1] Despite the fact her Tribe was world renowned for maple products and probably in part because of Asami’s flabbergastedness, Korra preferred the shittiest, cheapest, most sugary syrup available

^[2] Asami was equal parts irritated and amused by Korra’s original song and dance number “Vegetables are the Devil (Yes Tenzin I’m Talking About You)”

^[3] While Unalaq was indeed Korra’s father’s brother, most of the people Korra called auntie and uncle were either vague relations or current/former lovers of said vague relations.  And occasionally, just really friendly drinking buddies

Chapter Text

--kor just texted me to ask if she was a good kisser

--She’s supposed to be at the wedding rehearsal

--don’t change the subject

--What did you say?

--i’m not telling you until you tell me what happened.

--We kissed again

--…??

--W a lil bit of tongue

--nice, sami!!

--So???

What did you talk about??

--i mean you’ve kissed her more recently than i have

--Fuck you

--yeah silly you’re both very good kissers

--Idk if I trust your judgment considering

--considering what.

sams.

sami.

asami??

--Psych you’re fine.

You‘ve got that lip nibble thing

You’re good

--that was rude

but thanks  :)

--Ugh Mako.

Did she say anything else?

???

--i’m sorry sams.

--It’s ok. I’ll ttyl

--bye

Chapter Text

Korra was drunk.

No, scratch that—Korra was obliterated.

Asami couldn’t blame her.  There were only so many snide comments one’s own family could make about one’s parents^[1] before one, well, needed to take the edge off.  And then take a little more. 

“Korra, come on,” Asami said, knees bent under the weight of Korra’s armpit on her shoulder.  “Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

“Okay S’lami,” Korra said.  “You’re the genius.”

They made it a few stumbling steps before Korra shrugged off of Asami and said: “Skaaaa!”

Wincing, Asami saw the bride-to-be gliding toward her and Korra.  For the rehearsal dinner Eska was wearing a blood red dress trimmed in black fur, with long dagged sleeves that fell over her hands.  She was accompanied by her twin, in a similar outfit with the colors reversed, and her fiancé, a surprisingly chipper Fire Nation man wearing a sensible black suit named Hiroyuki.

“Hello cousin’s wife, cousin,” said Eska, eyes flicking at each of them.  “You are very drunk.”

“Yep,” Korra said, and then she giggled. “Sure am.”

“I require you to be sober tomorrow for the wedding,” Eska said.

“Shan’t,” Korra slurred.

“She will be,” Asami said.  She reached out to tug Korra back toward her, but Korra lost her balance and Asami had to catch her by the crooks of her elbows.  Korra was bent at the waist, arms akimbo, back arched, and her face pressed into Asami’s chest.  She nuzzled into Asami’s cleavage, and Asami could feel herself heat up all over.

“You smell good, Sami’s boobs.”

“Sweetie, please control yourself,” Asami said through clenched teeth.  She tugged Korra upward until they were eye to eye.  Korra leaned back at the waist and pointed at Asami’s face.  Then she opened her hand, wobbled a bit, and put her palm on Asami’s cheek.

“So pretty.  Isn’t Sami pretty?”

“She is very proportional,” Eska said.

Korra heaved herself onto Asami’s shoulder and blew a long breath buzzing between her lips.  Her chin swung back and forth across her chest and she was looking at Eska and company from beneath hooded, drunken eyes^[2].

“She’s also, the nicest.  Nicest wife ever,” Korra said.  She hiccupped. “Not jus pretty, okay?”

Eska’s fiancé gave a mighty guffaw, clapped his hands together and then threw an arm around Eska, drawing her close.  Even though Asami had observed them throughout the rehearsal dinner, she still couldn’t believe that Eska’s reaction to this was merely a pointy little grin, the most expression Asami had ever seen on the girl’s face^[3].

 “Splendid, Eska, isn’t it splendid to be around other young lovers?” He was teasing Eska.

“I suppose it is,” Eska said.

“She made this,” Korra interrupted, hand flying to the stone at her throat.  Even in her inebriation, she touched it delicately.  “She made this, for me.  She’s a genius.”

“Come on, Korra,” Asami said doggedly.

She managed to drag Korra away, into the elevator, and down the hallway toward their room.  Asami had to let Korra go to open their door, and she slid down to the ground with her back on the wall, head slumping forward between her knees.

“Korra.”  Asami sighed.  “Come on, kitty^[4].”

They entered their room and Korra staggered over her feet to land belly-first onto the bed.  Asami shook her head and went to the bathroom.  She wiped off her makeup, brushed out her hair, and filled up a glass of water for Korra.  When she came back into the bedroom, Korra was topless and shimmying out of her underwear.

Deep breaths, Asami, deep breaths.  You’ve seen her walking around the apartment naked a thousand times.  Deep breaths.

Except she’d always had a book to read or project to work on or dinner to cook or something to distract her, but at this moment Asami could only lick at the sweat beading above her upper lip and clench at the plastic cup full of water in her hand.

Korra fell backward onto the bed and tossed her panties into the corner of the room with a flick of her foot.  She tugged at the comforter underneath her^[5], rolling and groaning in her attempts to get at it.  Asami exhaled slowly to steady herself, then marched over to the side of the bed. 

“Stop moving!” she said.  Korra giggled.

“Yes, mom.  Asami mommy.  Asamaay mommaaay.”

Asami managed to free the comforter and tucked it around Korra from neck to ankles.

“Too hot,” Korra said, throwing the blanket down to her waist.  Asami wondered what the surface tension was for a pair of perfect breasts, and if it could be tested^[6].

Asami rummaged in her bag for a sleeping t-shirt and when she found it she shrugged out of her dress with her back to Korra.  She pulled the oversized shirt over her head and went to busy herself with rebuilding the pillow barrier between hers and Korra’s sides of the bed, which Korra had demolished in her drunken attempts to get at the comforter.

“No don’t,” Korra said, catching Asami’s wrist.  “Don’t care if you kick me.”

Asami’s whole body was tense.  She slid under the blankets and turned away from Korra, who immediately snuggled around Asami and buried her nose into Asami’s hair. 

“Smart too.  So smart,” Korra said after a while.

Asami said nothing, because she couldn’t hear anything over the press of nipples against her back and the pleasant tickle of Korra’s pubic hair on her ass cheek.  Or the way Korra’s thumb was just barely resting on her collarbone, or the way the tops Korra’s thighs felt so solid and strong against the bottom of hers.  Or how Korra’s abs swelled against her with every rising breath, or how she--

“Night, Sams.” Korra yawned, gave a swift kiss to the back of Asami’s neck through her hair, and said: “love you.”

In a few moments, Korra was snoring.  Asami didn’t get to sleep for a long time.

^[1] Culminating with Unalaq including the term: “certain runaways who shall not be named who may or may not be my brother” no less than four times in his rehearsal dinner speech

^[2] This was all an uncommon (okay, not that uncommon) condition Asami liked to call “Korra’s unintentional sort of Robert Deniro impression,” which was not as bad as “Asami blacked out is actually 100% legit Lara Croft.”

^[3] Korra and Asami had spent a memorable evening making a .gif of all of Eska’s facebook pictures, flickering between each one quickly with Eska’s unmoving face in roughly the same size and place of everyone one.  The effect was astounding, and eerie.  Not just the profile pictures.  All the pictures.

^[4] This was a nickname in reference to the week where Korra was determined to find a Pixar movie that could make Asami cry.  Korra almost gave up after Up didn’t work, but considered it a win when Asami laughed so hard she cried when Korra confessed she really identified with Sully from Monsters Inc.

^[5] Korra slept with only a comforter at home.  No sheets, no extra blankets—one comforter, forever, winter, spring, summer and fall.  Asami had to sneak it to the dry cleaners when Korra was away or it’d never get washed

^[6]  Varrick, Iknik Blackstone. "Orbs on a Zhu Li Moon." Republic City Science Sentinel. 

Chapter Text

“Asami, it is too fucking early for this.”

“Sorry.  Sorry.  I’ll just text you later.”

“What happened?”

“Korra got drunk last night.”

“That is not 8AM phone call worthy.”

“And spooned me.”

“Ah.”

“While naked.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Sams?”

“Yeah?”

“How many cigarettes did you smoke last night?”

“None, thanks.”

“Didn’t want to move because of the spooning?”

“I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Probably not.  Where are you now?”

“Getting her breakfast.”

“Aww.”

“Shut up.”

“Just tell her!”

“Bye, Mako.”

“Bye.”

Chapter Text

“Hey,” Asami said, nudging at Korra.  “You have to get up.  We need to get you showered and presentable.”

Korra whimpered, then turned her back to Asami and drew the comforter more tightly around her shoulders.

“Hey,” Asami said again.  “I’m serious, Korra.  Look, I brought you coconut water.  And bacon.”

Korra snaked an arm free of her blanket and held it palm up toward Asami.  Asami slapped a banana into it.

“Want bacon,” Korra muttered, eyes still closed.

“Banana first.”

Korra groaned and drew herself up against the headboard of the bed.  She blinked blearily at Asami, then looked down and noticed her bare breasts.  Korra flushed and pulled the comforter up to cover them. 

“Banana,” Asami said firmly, eyes watering with the effort of not looking below Korra’s face.

Korra grimaced and began trying to peel the fruit with shaking hands.  She flipped it over once and then again, trying from each end before Asami snorted and did it for her.  Korra took one bite, turned almost as pale as Asami, and threw the comforter off herself.  She scrambled off the bed and into the bathroom.  Asami was alarmed, but by the time she got to the bathroom, Korra had finished vomiting and was flushing the toilet.

“You okay?” Asami asked from the doorway, trying very hard to ignore the way Korra’s back muscles rippled and the dimple indentations above her ass.

“Much better,” Korra said, still kneeling above the toilet.  “Uh, Sami?  Can you grab me some clothes?”

Asami retrieved a pair of athletic shorts and sports bra from the floor of the hotel room^[1].  She tossed them into the bathroom.  She could hear the sounds of Korra getting dressed and then gargling and spitting some water into the sink.

“Okay,” Korra was saying as she exited.  She drew a shaky breath.  “Banana.  Then water.  Then bacon.”

They sat together on the bed while Korra munched and slurped and groaned her way through breakfast.

“I’m never drinking again,” she said.

“You told me last night not to let a hangover stop you from drinking tonight.”

“Did I really?”

And that you loved me.

“Mmhmm.”

“That doesn’t sound like me.”

“You also texted it to me.”

Asami showed Korra her phone.  It said: i need to study the end quad wedding dimt let me be siber.

“‘I need to be drunk for Eska’s wedding don’t let me be sober?’” Korra guessed.

“As far as I can tell,” Asami said.

“Hmm,” Korra said through a mouthful of bacon.  She swallowed.  “Could still be a forgery.”

“When have my text messages ever looked like that?”

“One time you used ‘objectively’ wrong.”

“Hey!” Asami said.  She grabbed a pillow and tossed it at Korra.  “That was four years ago!”

Korra’s hands were full of breakfast plate and the pillow hit her face with a soft whump. 

“Oh, it’s on,” Korra said, chucking the empty plate over the side of the bed.

“No, Korra, don’t—”

Korra tackled Asami down to the bed and made a grab for her wrists.  Asami dodged and snaked a leg around Korra’s lower back.  Korra grunted and twisted in Asami’s hold, managing to curl an arm underneath Asami’s armpit and around her shoulder.  They grappled and shifted on the bed, and Asami ended up on top straddling Korra’s midsection, hands firmly pinning the insides of Korra’s forearms. 

“No fair,” Korra whined.  “I’m hungover.”

“You started it!” Asami said breathlessly.

Korra was avoiding eye contact.

“Let me up.”

“Not until you say uncle.”

“I’ve had enough of uncles!”

Asami let go, shocked at the harsh edge in Korra’s voice.  Korra rolled off the bed and stomped to the bathroom.  She slammed the door behind her and Asami heard the shower turn on. Asami sank back down to lie on the bed and pressed a pillow to her face.

^[1] Asami agreed to stop cleaning Korra’s room if Korra stopped leaving underwear in the common areas of the apartment.  In the end, neither of them got what they wanted

Chapter Text

--Kor’s mad at me

--what happened

--Idk.  I beat her at wrestling and she got mad.

--you wrestle all the time

--I know

--you sure she was mad?

--Yeah

Do you think she knows

--no

--How do you know?

--did you tell her?

--No!

--then she doesn’t know.

maybe it’s the kissing?

and the spooning?

--That’s what I’m afraid of

--sams, i love you

--Thanks??

--but you need to tell her

--Noooooo I can’t

--Asami, this is Jinora.

--Hi Jinora

--& kai!

--Hi Kai

--Your soul is in a state of turmoil.  If you don’t release your emotions, there could be dire consequences.

--Gee, thanks.

--she means u need 2 tell korra or ur heart will go KABOOM

--Can you two just text me on your own phones??

--sorry, it’s mako again.

but i agree with them

--UGH

--where are you now?

--I’m in the room.

K’s getting her hair done with the rest of the bridesmaids

--cheer up kiddo

and don’t smoke

--Uuuggghhhhhh

Chapter Text

When Eska appeared at the end of the aisle, Asami suspected the bridesmaid dresses had been an intentional ruse.  True, Korra’s cousin was channeling Morticia Addams—a form fitting dark blue number that flared at the ankle into a slashed skirt trailing behind her—but it was still phenomenal.  Paler blue Northern Water Tribe style embroidery crept up the legs, around the hips and back, and flourished at Eska’s shoulders and swooping but tasteful neckline.  The long sleeves slashed at the shoulder then connected again at the wrist.  Even the skull-head earrings and matching betrothal necklace were working for the bride, or perhaps it was simply the blissful marital glow.

Asami bit her lip and once more made eye contact with the side of Korra’s head.

She knew. Korra knew, and that’s why everything was fucked.

Asami tried to relish in the cupcake absurdity of Eska’s twelve bridesmaids.  She tried to mentally document what it looked like to see Desna bawl so hard he had to be escorted out before the vows could be finished.  She even tried her normal failsafe for distraction: appreciating the architecture and engineering of the room she was in, especially the waterfall that seemed to flow upward against the wall that was the backdrop of the bridal party.

Of course, Korra wept.  She cried for anything and anyone, good or bad or sad^[1].

The ceremony ended and Asami hurried to leave.  She found a side door to the outside and rummaged through her clutch for a cigarette and lighter.

“Fuck!” she said, startling a bird off the side of the hotel.

“Need a light?”

It was Anaya, waddling toward Asami in her bridesmaid dress with a cigarette tucked behind her ear.

“Yeah.  Thanks.”

Anaya lit Asami’s and then her own.

“So, are you and Korra fighting or something?  You seem fine, except you’re smoking, and something tells me you don’t do that very often.  And she was acting very strangely this morning.”

“She was hungover,” Asami said.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Asami took a drag of her cigarette.

“I mean,” Anaya said.  “Not that it’s my business.  But I think you kids have a shot, so I’d like to see you work it out.”

“Anaya, you’re two years younger than Korra.”

Anaya chuckled and smoke writhed up around her nostrils.

“Maybe by the calendar.  But I’ve never met anyone as young at heart, have you?  Anyway,” Anaya pinched and rolled the cherry out of her cigarette and stamped on it with a dainty shoe.  She tossed the butt in a nearby trashcan.  “I bet after the declarations of love, you both will be too drunk and sappy to be mad at each other anymore.”

“Declarations of love?”

“It’s a Water Tribe thing.  Korra didn’t do it when you eloped?”

“Uh, no.”

“Then you’re in for a treat.”

Anaya smiled and patted Asami’s arm before wedging her way through the side door.  Asami smoked her cigarette down to the filter and didn’t exhale until her lungs felt on fire.

^[1] Once even during a Dr. Pepper commercial.

Chapter Text

--I’m going to tell her

After the toasts.

I’m going to tell her.

--yes!!

--Can I move in with you and Bo when she rejects me again

--don’t think like that

--Wish me luck

--you don’t need it

--Mako!!!!

--luck, asami

Chapter Text

“Say that to my face, Lornek you son of a bitch!”

“Don’t talk about our mother like that!”

Smack, smack.  Roars of laughter.

Asami sipped red wine through thin lips, astounded at the scene playing out in the opposite corner of the reception hall.  Two burly men with similar broad noses and windchapped faces were swinging big gray fish at each other.  They each got a couple of healthy smacks in before other men pried them apart.  Everyone clapped and the buzz of several hundred people chatting once more filled the room.

“Where do they get the fish?” Asami asked the person seated to her left.

“Each table’s got a bucket underneath, see?  It started as this old tradition but now it’s like, just for that.”

Asami was seated with other partners of the bridal party.  She gamely invented answers about how she and Korra had met and fell in love and decided to elope.  She tried to ignore the excited chatter about the declarations of love.  The bridal party hadn’t returned yet from picture taking, and Asami was on her third glass of wine.

The DJ let a song fade out and switched on the microphone.

“Ladies and gentleman et cetera, please grab a drink and take a seat.”

When everyone had found their tables, the servers began passing out food and the DJ played “Monster Mash.” As they were introduced, each of the pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen entered the room with a goofy routine.  Someone zombie-walked and someone else let loose a lusty howl.  When it was Korra’s turn, she was wearing fake fangs and bridal-style carrying a groomsmen almost a foot taller than her.  Asami beamed when they got the biggest applause.  Korra flashed her a plastic pointy grin when she sat down at the head table, and Asami felt her insides unclench a little.

After Eska and Hiroyuki were introduced as man and wife for the first time, they sat and the DJ once more quieted the music.

“While we work on our main courses, it’s time for everyone’s favoritest most baby-makinest time of the night, declarations of loooove!”

Eska accepted a microphone and stood.

“Most things in this world are dark and terrible.  Hiro is only dark, and that is not terrible.”

Asami could see crocodile tears shine in Hiroyuki’s eyes and slip down his face.

“I love him because he understands my soul.  I love him because he has never tried to change me.  I love him because I conjured him using a ritual to summon a sex demon and got a foreigner who makes me laugh.  Ha, ha.  I am happy that I get to spend eternal darkness with him.”

Eska embraced her new husband and Asami joined in clinking a fork against her glass, imploring them to kiss.

The declarations then moved on to the oldest member of the family.  Eska’s grandfather talked about his love for his dead husband.  Unalaq spoke of his wife.  The members of the bridal party with spouses spoke one by one about their love for their partners.  Finally, it was Korra’s turn.  She accepted the microphone and stood, twisting the betrothal necklace back and forth between her fingers.

“Asami Sato is rich.”

Asami gulped down the last large sip in her wine glass.

“But it’s her richness of spirit that I love.  She finds magic in changing leaves and children’s laughter.  She doesn’t get out of bed in the morning without smiling.  She can’t pass a missing pet poster without programming the number into her phone.

“Asami Sato is smart.  But it’s her delight in knowledge that I love.  The way she forgets to fall asleep when she’s found some new math problem that’s actually difficult for her to figure out.  The way she apologizes for talking your ear off about a book and then goes right on talking about it.  The way she is patient with anyone that could use her big brain to make the world a better place.

“Asami Sato is beautiful.  But I love her for the beauty in her soul.  I have never seen her turn down someone who could use her help, least of all me.  I love you, Asami Sato.”

There was a loud ringing in Asami’s ears.  She sat rigid in her seat, staring into the points of blue that had been the center of her universe for the better part of a decade.  Distantly she was aware of the gaping smile stretched across her face, but mostly she couldn’t really think at all.  The DJ announced something about dancing and Korra broke the eye contact, setting Asami free of her reverie.

Eska and Hiroyuki had their first dance to “Henry Lee^[1].”  Eska dipped her husband deep at the end of their waltz and kissed him thoroughly.  He laughed and returned the favor.

“Okie dokie ladies, gents, everyone,” said the DJ.  “We’re now going to invite anyone who’s been together for fifty or more years onto the dance floor to join the bride and groom.  That’s right, hobble on out here, let’s celebrate your love!”

A different slow song began to play and two elderly couples shuffled around Eska and Hiroyuki.

“Okay, now please join us if you’ve been married for forty years or more.  That’s great.  Thirty years?  Twenty?  Ten?  Okay, if you’ve been together five or more years, please join us on the dance floor.  Four years.  Three.  Two.  One.  That’s almost everyone, but I see a few young people with betrothal necklaces around their necks who aren’t out here yet.  Anyone been married less than a year?”

A russet colored hand entered Asami’s field of vision, palm up.  Asami exhaled and took it.

Korra was a vision in pale blue.  Her dress was sleeveless, clinging to her chest and waist until it split into two wide slits on either side of her hips.  On her legs were dappled suede leggings which made Asami’s fingers twitch with the desire of wanting to know how soft they were.  She wore her hair gathered into a traditional collected bun on the top of her head, with two long gentle curls framing the sides of her face. 

They swayed together on the dance floor.  Korra’s head rested just underneath Asami’s chin.  Her hair smelled faintly of mint.

“I’m sorry for this morning,” Asami whispered when the music was done.

They broke apart, still holding hands.

“Sams, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Korra said.  Asami wasn’t certain she had ever seen Korra’s face look so serious.

“Do you want to maybe—” Korra began, but just then Anaya, in a bra and panties and accompanied by another young woman in an equal state of undress, skidded toward them.

“We’re gonna go jump in the sea!  Wanna come?”

Asami and Korra shook their heads.

“Your loss.  Come on!”

“She was hitting the flask hard during pictures,” Korra said, shaking her head at her cousin.  “And she thinks I should.  I mean.  Do you want to maybe step outside?”

Asami nodded and Korra tugged her through the increasingly crowded dance floor to a balcony outside.  The door closed behind them and they were left with blissful silence save for the muffled thumping of the music’s base.  Korra guided Asami to sit down on a bench and then turned her face upward toward the night sky.

“The stars are so amazing out here.  I always forget.”

“I think they’re nicer at your parents, honestly.”

“Me too,” Korra said, flashing Asami’s favorite crooked grin before frowning again.

“Look.  Asami.  Look.  Okay.  Here goes.  What I said in there during the declarations—”

“It’s okay, I know it’s just a tradition—”

“No, no!  You need to just let me talk, okay?  Promise?  Okay.  So.  What I said in there, it’s all true.  And I mean, yeah, I could have been talking about you as a friend.  Because you’re an amazing friend, the best, really.  But I can’t.  I can’t do this anymore.”

Tears began to slip down Korra’s face.

Asami’s heart started pounding very hard.

“Asami, I love you. 

“Not just, like, as a friend.  But, I’ve known for a while, I thought that friends were fine, you know?  After Mako and everything that happened.  But in the apartment, we’re just…  like it’s as natural as air, and I feel like we’re really together anyway, except we can’t kiss, or—” she trailed off, and blushed.  Asami felt a throbbing sympathetic heat rush to her face and a matching one race into her groin.  She could barely concentrate even though Korra’s words were changing her life where she sat.

“But then you kissed me, it was so good, Asami, fuck.  It’s everything I ever thought it would be, fantasized and dreamed about, and it was a two second fucking kiss in front of my cousin, shit.  And, I just can’t hold it in any more, I’m sorry if this fucks everything up, and you probably don’t feel the same way, but I’ll explode if I don’t say anything and Mako was wrong you don’t feel the same way do you?  I—”

“What!” Asami squawked.

“I—love you?”

“No, idiot!”

Asami leapt to her feet and grabbed Korra’s face and kissed her so hard they both fell to the ground.  And then they were laughing and gasping and crying, Asami was crying and she couldn’t remember the last time—

“What the fuck!” Korra said.  She delivered a tiny punch to Asami’s shoulder and then they kissed again.

“Mako knew!” Asami said when they broke apart.  “That asshole!”

They managed to get up onto the bench with their hands entwined and lips attached.  Their faces were pressed hotly together and Asami wasn’t sure whose tears were slipping off her chin.

“What do you mean, ‘Mako knew?’  And shit, Sami, you’re crying?”

Asami hated to be apart from Korra’s lips, and reconnected to them urgently before she could respond.

“I mean he knew I’ve been in love with you for years!”

“He—you love me?”

Asami would have done anything to feel the sweet press of Korra’s body and Korra’s hot tongue moving against hers forever. 

“Yes, Korra, yes.  Korra.  Yes, I love you.  Isn’t it obvious?”

In the starlight, Korra flushed a deep pink.

“You just—always keep your feelings so locked up.  All those longing looks and—don’t laugh!  I thought you were teasing me.  Like, I figured if you were flirting with me all the time it’s because you didn’t feel the same way?  I dunno!”

“What about you!  I have never seen you get through a conversation with a crush without stammering!  How was I supposed to know without you being obvious!  You’re always so sure of yourself, you always go for it—”

“Not with my best friend who told me she had feelings for me then dated my other best friend who after they broke up I then dated!”

“Is this all Mako’s fault?”

“Maybe!”

They kissed again, a languid, bruising kiss that Asami was certain she’d always remember.

“I am going to kill him,” she growled into Korra’s mouth when they were done.

“You can’t.  I threatened to fuck his life up if he ever told anyone.  Besides, he promised, and you know how seriously Mako takes his promises,” said Korra.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.  But everyone knew about me—no one told you?”

“They all did.  I brushed them off, saying there was no way you still had the hots for me after I fucked it up so many years ago.  I owe Bolin an apology for how many times I lost my temper about it.”

Korra had a way of sucking gently at Asami’s tongue that was leaving her dizzy.

“This stupid wedding—I thought maybe it’d cure me?” Korra murmured into Asami’s neck, her hands running up and down Asami’s ribs and waist and then around her upper back.  “Remember Opal started it?  Our celebrity marriage name—”

“‘Korrasami’” they said together.  Asami’s whole face was aching with the sweetness of everything that was happening.

“And the necklace.  Shit, Sams,” Korra went on.  “I couldn’t—I thought I’d be happy just being roommates and best friends, even though it hurt, but I couldn’t go the rest of my life and not tell you.  I couldn’t have the smallest chance at real happiness with the girl who made this and not go for it.”

Asami was gasping for air, weak and filled with pulsing energy all at once.  She ran her hands up Korra’s thighs and midsection and breasts at as slow a pace as she could muster, ending with her arms curled around Korra’s neck.  She kissed the hollow of Korra’s throat, right above the betrothal necklace.

“Six months,” Asami whispered, kissing up Korra’s neck and jawline and ending at her lips.  “It took me six months.”

“Thank god,” Korra said.  “I was afraid you were an actual genius.”

“Hey!” Asami said, and she bit down on Korra’s lower lip for emphasis.  “I am going to make you pay for that, later.”

Korra shivered and leaned into another kiss.

^[1] A charming ditty which sounds romantic but is about throwing a man into a well.  Hiro thought it was hilarious

Chapter Text

--did you take off yet?

--Still on the runway.

Asami’s phone buzzed and Korra snatched it, pushing the button for speakerphone.

“Hello?”

“CONGRATULATIONS!” said several voices at once.

“…on the sex!”

“Thanks, guys.  Fuck off, Bolin,” Korra said.

“We’re so proud of you.”

“Get home so we can start planning the wedding.”

“I can do a soul-convergence ceremony if you want to keep it non-religious—”

“Ooh, would you look at that, the flight attendant is telling us to turn off electronics.  We’ll see you in a few hours!”

Korra pressed the ‘end’ button and grinned at Asami.

“I love you, Asami.”

“I love you, Korra.”