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Something Special

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Mako should really just drive a satomobile to work.

It isn't outrageously far between his home and the police station, less than a mile-long trek through the northern, suburban side of New Republic City. But it is on nights like this that he regrets telling Asami no, he doesn't need to use one of her cars. He can just walk. It's good for his health, after all, and at thirty-two years old, that is something he's all-too-quickly becoming aware of.

The outdoor temperature is well below freezing now, however. Mako's breath condenses in the air and his fingers feel painfully numb, even tucked away inside his coat pockets. A snowy gust blows against his face and makes his cheeks burn. It's so cold that he can even feel his firebending begin to weaken as the minutes pass.

When he finally reaches their neighborhood, it takes all his willpower to keep from sprinting down the snow-covered sidewalk to their fenced property. By the time he's unlatching the front gate, Korra's polar bear dog, Naga, is racing across the yard to see him. She's getting older now but still gets excited when her humans come home.

“Hey girl,” Mako greets. Naga performs as sprightly a dance as a fat, old dog can, then tries to lick his face as he enters the property. He pats her on the snout, then gently shoves the beast away from the gate as he latches it closed again.

Mako follows the cobblestone walkway he knows by heart, hidden beneath the snow. After half a dozen steps he pauses, realizing he can see another person's footprints freshly pressed into the white powder.

“Momma's home, isn't she?” he asks Naga with a small smile. She trots her way up to the front stoop with him, wagging her tail all the way.

Naga wants to come inside, of course. Unfortunately, their newly constructed house is a bit too tight for her to navigate inside comfortably, and Asami's passion for collecting expensive, decorative knick-knacks does nothing to make the home suitable for such a large animal. Naga has a luxurious polar bear doghouse of her own, though. And she's built for this kind of weather, unlike firebenders. “Go lie down,” he tells Naga as he opens the front door. “Sorry, girl. Go on.”

Naga sits on the stoop instead, looking sad as he closes the door in her face. Mako sighs and decides that tomorrow he'll bring home a treat for her. There's a meat market not far from the station—he'll pick up something there, maybe. A chicken-ham.

Mako's work boots have become uncomfortably wet from crunching through snow. He toes them off at the doorway, leaving them beside another pair of wet boots that definitely belong to Korra. Judging by the luggage piled by the door, she hasn't been here for very long.

She's finally home, he thinks with relief. She has been in the Fire Nation for two months, helping civilians relocate after a volcano erupted on one of the outlying islands. Korra wasn't due to be home for at least another day or two, according to her letters, so her early arrival is a welcome surprise.

Mako shrugs off his overcoat, exposing his police uniform to the warm air of the building. His flushed face burns further with the temperature change, but it's a pleasant feeling, if only for the knowledge it brings: he won't freeze to death tonight.

“I'm home,” Mako calls out, but their house is so large that he isn't surprised when no one responds.

It's late at night, so it's likely everyone is asleep. He passes the closed doors of his son's room and the nursery. The main bedroom's door is ajar, but when he looks inside, no one is asleep or in bed.

He heads to Asami's workroom instead, and indeed finds her there, sitting at her desk in a nightgown as she scribbles something in a notebook. Surely Asami is making drafts for another invention of hers—she's been on a creative roll lately, and he's proud of her. Still, she shouldn't be working so hard with the condition she's in.

“I thought I'd find you two in here,” Mako says.

Asami perks her head up from her notes at the sound of his voice. “Oh, it's just me,” she states, setting her supplies down on her desk. “Your nose is red, handsome.”

He self-consciously rubs his face. “I'm not talking about Korra or Hiro. Why aren't you in bed?”

“Oh.” Realizing what he means, she rubs a hand idly over her belly. Due in less than a month, heavily pregnant Asami looks a bit less like a model of perfection than she usually does. She's still gorgeous though, puffy cheeks, swollen ankles and all. “Well, one of us is sleeping,” she sniffs, “but I had an idea floating around in my head that I had to sketch out. I tried lying down earlier, but it felt like my bladder was about to burst, so I got up again. And Hiroshi hadn't fallen asleep yet either, so I had to get him back into bed, and...” Her shoulders drop tiredly.

“I'm sorry, sweetie.” He steps over to her side and presses a kiss to her forehead.

Even though Asami mostly stays at home on pregnancy leave nowadays, she is still a hard worker. Korra's stubbornness must have rubbed off on her, as she refuses to let a nanny or maid help more than once per week, even now. They're adults, she's explained before; surely they can make this family thing work between the three of them, without sacrificing someone's career and/or duties to the world.

He wonders if she will maintain that idea when two little ones are wreaking havoc on their house. Hiroshi is difficult enough.

“Where's Korra?” Mako asks.

“Still bathing, I think. She's had a really long day.”

“I'm sure she has.” Mako presses a hand to Asami's shoulder. “Get some sleep soon, okay? Take a break. I'm going to take a bath, too, and then I'll join you.”

“Alright. Check on Hiroshi for me, will you?”

“Sure.”

He finds their son sprawled across his child-sized bed, passed out with his blanket kicked down to his feet. Korra calls Hiroshi hot-blooded, while Mako just assumes he'll be a firebender. All firebending children's temperatures run a little warmer than normal, and while Hiroshi has yet to bend any element by the age of almost four years old, he thinks it's likely his son inherited it from him. He definitely inherited Mako's looks, if nothing else.

When Mako passes by the bathroom, the door is closed, though a light shines through the crack at the bottom. After knocking quietly, he announces his identity to Korra before entering. It isn't as if she is shy about her nude body around him, especially not after years of being together.

“Hey,” Korra mumbles from her spot in their over-sized soaking tub. She's submerged her entire body in hot water. Steam wafts around Mako as he steps inside the room, closing the door behind him.

“Hey. Welcome home, Korra.”

“Asami mentioned you're working late these days,” she says. “I was surprised you weren't home when I got here.”

“Er, yeah. A lot has been going on. We just busted the Agni Kais—seven arrests, no real injuries. The informant had his charges dropped. Now it's just paperwork.” Mako rolls his shoulders and begins unbuttoning his uniform. “Mind if I join you?”

Korra shifts in the water, moving to one side of the tub. “Come on in.”

Rather than toss his clothes on the floor like Korra has done with hers, Mako folds his and sets them on the counter. She stares at him as he unbuckles his belt, then dips her head back to wet her hair. He pauses to watch the tips of her breasts touch the clear surface of the water.

“How was your trip?” he asks once she rises back up. He finishes disrobing and steps into the tub with her, raising the water level until it nearly reaches her chin. The gigantic, deep tub was a luxury Asami had gifted to Korra as they built the house, to give the Avatar relaxation time with her native element of water. Between all three of their hectic, physically and mentally taxing jobs, each one of them appreciates a good soak now and then.

He knows Korra's muscles must be sore. His back certainly hurts from sitting at his desk, writing reports for the majority of the evening. The highlight of his day was going for a walk during his break, of all things.

“It was okay,” Korra answers. “The weather was great, at least. We need to vacation in the Fire Nation every winter. This place sucks.”

“Oh, I know. I had a fantastic time walking home today.”

Korra laughs, then reaches out to loop one wet hand around Mako's neck. “I missed you,” she says before tugging him closer to kiss him.

After a moment together, she sighs against his mouth. “I hope this is the last time I have to leave for so long. I was worried I'd miss the birth. You don't know how glad I was to see Asami... She's gotten big.”

“That's a good thing. The baby's healthy.”

Korra nods.

It isn't brought up very often, due to the sensitivity of the subject, but fertility has been on all of their minds. Korra was supposed to be the one to bear the trio's second child—but after nearly a year of trying with no results whatsoever, they realized that perhaps it wasn't meant to be. Three years after Hiroshi's birth, Asami and Mako tried again, not wanting more than four years of age between their children.

It is something Korra is bitter about—not that Asami and Mako tried again (that was her idea, actually,) but about her infertility itself. She blames it on the Red Lotus and the metallic poison that lingered in her body for several years. Korra's moon cycles had been irregular ever since that fateful day. Had the poison been the cause of this, or was it the overall trauma her body suffered? Would Zaheer truly haunt her for the rest of her life despite everything she's overcome?

Mako loves both women so dearly. It took a very long time for him to come to that realization, and even longer for Korra and Asami to realize they loved him just the same.

Mako takes a bottle of shampoo from a rack nearby. “Turn around,” he tells Korra, “and I'll wash your hair.”

She does. He lathers her hair and scrubs her scalp with his fingertips, causing her to melt under his touch as he predicted she would. Head petting is a weakness for her, he's learned—it was something her mother used to do to her as a young child, stroking her hair, and it is something Korra does for Hiroshi to help him fall asleep, too.

Once Mako is done, Korra exhales a deep breath. “Thank you, Mako.”

He's truly missed Korra's company these past two months. Asami is great, but without the both of them present, it always feels as if something is missing.

His love for Asami comes from admiration, respect, and years of knowing one another in a pleasant manner. Affection is easy between them. His love for Korra is similar to that, yet distinctly different: their relationship is just as passionate as it's always been, just as wholly consuming. The two still get into the occasional argument, but time, wisdom and maturity have worn away their rough edges.

Mako and Korra understand each other—perhaps in a different way than Asami and Korra understand each other, or he and Asami. But they all fit together, somehow.

Mako and Korra bathe one another. While Mako is methodical and efficient at scrubbing her skin with soap, Korra takes her sweet time, lingering over the parts of Mako's body that she favors. His hair, his fingers, his shoulders and biceps... Her touch drifts from his neck to his navel, then lower, taking his cock into one hand and playing with him until he is hard and heavy in her palm.

“I want you,” she murmurs. She wraps both arms around his neck, bringing the two of them closer together, inviting herself into his personal space.

He huffs against her throat, then kisses the moist skin there as she slides her legs around either side of his crossed ones. “Asami is probably in bed already,” he points out as she rubs herself against him. “And I know— fuck. I know you don't like how water feels when we do this, so...”

“Drain the tub then,” she says before bending a swirl of water over his head. “Wait, close your eyes.”

Ah. His hair still has shampoo in it. Obediently, he shuts his eyes and tips his head back, allowing her to rinse his hair with her waterbending.

“Okay,” she says before knocking the drain's plug loose behind him with one foot. “Okay, now—“

“Yeah—“

Without waiting for the water to drain, she lines herself up with him. He can feel when she finds the right spot because then she's sinking down onto him, and it's warmer, and slicker than water, and—

Spirits, is she tight.

She lets out an expletive and presses down further until he's fully inside her. She waits, letting her body adjust to the thickness of him. Mako closes his eyes again and leans his forehead against her collarbone.

“I missed this,” Korra says shakily as she begins to move.

“I missed you,” Mako returns, bringing one hand up to curl into her hair. Her haircut is shoulder-length, as it has been for years, and he still loves it. His left hand, mildly scarred from years ago, grips her hip to help her ride him.

She gets a rhythm going, then stops abruptly, hissing at the rougher feeling the water provides.

“Korra, wait— wait for the water to drain.” Mako tries to scold her, but as he feels her muscles squeeze down around him as she readjusts herself on his lap, his words lose their strength. His hand in her hair drops to her breasts, caressing one for a moment before lowering to just above where they are joined.

“Oh,” Korra gasps, rocking a bit as he touches her. Her hands grab both sides of his face and she kisses him forcefully, letting her tongue find his.

Being with two women has taught him quite a number of useful things. He rubs her in just the right way, quick little circles around one sensitive point. Korra's back arches and she moans, and he doesn't stop his ministrations until the water's gone.

Slowly, she raises herself up and slides back down—he can feel the difference in her body already, the slickness from her arousal.

“I love you,” she pants. Her face presses into his shoulder as she begins to fuck him in earnest, and she breathes, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

 

- - -

 

“Took you two long enough,” Asami comments when the both of them enter their bedroom. Illuminated by a bedside lamp, Mako sees Asami glance at them over the top of the book she's reading: a mechanical parts manual, of course. “I'm assuming you two had fun?”

Mako grips the towel around his waist tighter, swallowing nervously. Sex usually occurs between all three of them, only occasionally between two. Mako hates to have left Asami out, but...

“Fuck yeah,” Korra says. “I couldn't wait. It's been two months.”

“Put some clothes on, woman,” Asami laughs when Korra drops her towel, bold as brass.

“I might,” she teases. Instead of listening, she crawls across their mattress toward Asami.

Setting her book down against her chest, Asami raises an eyebrow. Her eyes shift from Korra's crookedly grinning face to her naked body.

They kiss. It's chaste and sweet, and it makes Mako want to smile if just for the absurdity of it all. Mako waits for a moment, admiring the view of Korra's backside before finding clothes for both of them to sleep in. He tosses a tank top and pajama pants to Korra in the hopes that she'll stop being so... indecent around the pregnant woman.

A minute later, Asami giggles at something she whispers. When he turns to face them, he sees a clothed Korra pressing an ear to Asami's belly, as if listening to the baby.

“Hi,” Korra speaks softly near Asami's stomach. “I came back early to see you. We can't wait to meet you...”

Asami runs a hand over Korra's hair, meeting Mako's gaze with an amused smile.

His family is something special, alright.

But he honestly wouldn't want it any other way.