A/N: This is a dumb idea that just wouldn't leave me alone. Here's hoping it speaks to the people who were disappointed by the way things worked out between them in The Witness.

Korra stared over her shoulder at the remains of the avalanche that separated them from the rest of the expedition—rocks coming to a rest, airborne snow gusting about like so much dust unsettled by a broom.

"You ok?" she shouted, jumping down from Naga's back and lunging toward where Mako hung from the polarbear dog's mouth by his coat, his scarf a violent slash of color against the unbroken white of the tundra.

"Yeah," he said as Korra signaled Naga to set him down. "Everything seems to be intact."

"The pass is blocked," she said as he lurched up from the snow with help from her outstretched hand.

"You think everyone else got out ok?"

"My dad knows how to handle this sort of thing." She was reassuring herself as much as him, knowing that experience counted for something in cases like these but that the elements were unpredictable and didn't always favor the strongest or wisest.

"Can you, you know, get us back to them?"

"How do you suggest I do that?"

"I don't know, Master of All Four Elements. How do you think?"

"There's a fucking mountain in our way."

"Call me crazy, but wouldn't the Avatar State be of some help here?"

"Are you kidding me?" Her tone was strident. "It would take a week to punch through that, and I'd probably kill whoever was on the other side of it anyway!"

"So we're stuck here."

"There's another way around," she said, rubbing at the bridge of her nose with the tip of her middle finger. "We follow the coast around this mountain range. It runs all the way back to the Southern Water Tribe."

"And how long will that take."

"Ten days. A couple of weeks if we hit weather. We'll be a couple of days behind the others. At most."

He sighed loudly like this was the worst news he'd heard in a decade and proceeded to shake snow out of the sleeves of his winter coat and then dig it out from the inside of his collar where the wet and cold were starting to leach into his skin. She could have helped him, but her nerves were already raw from the accident, and he was grating on the very last one.

"Look, no one asked you to come. You volunteered."

"Well excuse me for caring."

He had gotten older, but his comebacks weren't getting any better.

Korra checked her gear on the back of Naga's saddle. Everything still seemed to be there, but it was only her stuff. His was either behind or under a few thousand metric tons of rock and ice. They'd have to supplement the rations with fishing. Check that. She'd have to supplement the rations with fishing, a skill city boys didn't seem to have. And…shit…

"We're going to have to share my tent. And my bedding," she said, staring in his direction and trying to look like it didn't really matter to her.

He stared back for several seconds and shrugged sulkily before standing on one foot to empty his other boot.

Theoretically, this shouldn't have been a problem. It had been three years since they'd formally dated, two since they'd last had sex. And the distance they'd managed to keep over that time was cordial, respectful, friendly even. They shared lots of things: drinks, long conversations (usually over drinks), food, laughs at Bolin's expense, the occasional awkward hug. Bedding down together in an emergency like this should have been a slightly uncomfortable but otherwise mundane necessity.

But there were problems. On Mako's end, the problem was that he was in love with her, though whether it was a matter of "still" or "again" was something of an open question. And on Korra's end, things were more, well…even more complicated. She was never certain of anything where he was involved, especially when it came to the question of them, and he'd disappointed her too many times before.

...

"When I look at you, I know exactly what I want," he said, looking deep into her eyes, one hand resting against her cheek.

"Yeah. But I can't always be here for you to look at. I can't stick around all the time just to keep you from getting 'confused.'"

...

He didn't need to be here. She hadn't asked him. But he'd been in useful hunting down and dispersing the vandals who'd cropped up around the spirit portal of late. He'd fought right beside her like they were teenagers again, and he kept giving her that look that made her feel like their energies were vibrating in sync with one another, and her stomach kept doing that stupid flipping thing she thought she'd grown out of.

The mid-spring sun started to dip just below the horizon, where they knew it would reappear just a few hours later. As it descended, the temperature started to drop even lower, and she knew they needed to get a shelter together. They pitched the tent with minimal conversation and surprisingly little argument, and Korra ripped her sleeping bag in half so that it could serve as a blanket for both of them, laying the pad from Naga's saddle underneath them to insulate the floor. It didn't smell great, but neither did they.

Korra released Naga to go make a snow cave for herself before doling out rations as Mako charged the battery for the portable tent heater. It warmed up quickly, so they stripped to their silk thermals and crawled under the blanket, back to back, their coats serving as pillows.

Sometime during the night, Korra woke up, surprised to find Mako's arm draped over her side, his hand dangling flaccidly near her stomach, breath tickling the back of her neck. A tiny snore told her he was still asleep. Old habits die hard, she thought. Even habits as old as this one.

She thought about how to move him without waking him, but then he shifted in his sleep, and his arm gripped her a little tighter, pressing her back flush against his front. And it felt good. Really good. She hadn't been held like this in quite a while, and the weight of his arm was so, well, familiar. So she closed her eyes and guiltily convinced herself that she was just trying to let him sleep and allowed the expansion and contraction of his chest carry her off to oblivion.

When she woke in the morning, he was already up and moving around, acting blithely unaware of what had happened. If he was, he didn't say anything. Neither of them did.

...

When it happened again the second night, she didn't move him then either, even when she realized that he was getting aroused in his sleep, erection brushing against her buttocks when she shifted. It wasn't so bad to be wanted, she thought, especially by him. Even if he was unconscious.

On the third night, she found that she was waiting for it to happen, and when it did, she dared to snuggle just a little closer as soon as his arm fell across her, like she used to do back when they shared a bed from time to time and this was all just so natural.

The movement woke him up. "Shit, I'm sorry," she heard him say as he rolled over and away and her body cried out for the contact to return. "Sorry," he repeated a couple of times, curling into himself, ashamed and almost afraid to go back to sleep.

The silence in the tent folded itself around them, filling the space they'd created between their bodies and rendering each restless shift and shuffle as loud as the avalanche that had set their ears ringing a few days before.

Korra's skin felt itchy even under the smooth, feather-light fabric of her thermals, a raspy, raw craving for human touch that was exacerbated by the close proximity of a body that could provide it and seemed so willing to do so—at least when the brain attached to it was disengaged. She listened as his breathing slowed again and wondered if he would roll back over once he was unconscious. The intolerable minutes ticked by as she realized that anticipation wasn't helping her sleep any more than it was helping her find relief. So she decided to try something. She'd always preferred to be the big spoon anyway.

Listening carefully to make sure that he was really asleep, she rolled over to her other side and placed a hand on his lower ribs, the warmth of his skin seeping through the silk of his undershirt. He didn't move, and she was emboldened, lifting her hand and letting her entire arm circle around his waist, edging forward millimeters at a time until her breasts were almost touching him.

In an instant, his breathing changed and muscles tensed. A thousand curses flashed through her brain as she froze, trying to determine whether she'd really been caught or if this was just a reflexive action to some disturbance in his dream. They were still for several long seconds as she wrestled with herself, gradually making up her mind to withdraw and pretend it was all a mistake. Just as she was preparing to let out her best fake snore and roll back over, she felt his arm move—not to push her away but to rest right over hers. She was mortified and excited at the same time. His long fingers fit into the crevices between hers, drawing her hand more securely against his stomach, and the pace of her heart sped up just a little bit more.

She let herself be pulled in, pressing the full length of her body against his and enjoying the gap that had formed between his top and pants, allowing her to feel a little patch of his flesh. His thumb gently massaged her forearm, the smooth circular motion reminding her of other places she'd like to have touched. And the urge to explore became overpowering.

When her palm slipped under his shirt, he didn't move or protest, letting her fingers trace the dips of his rib cage and the subtle lines of his abdomen, thumb pausing to play with his navel. His skin was soft and covered with fine hairs that gathered in a line and swooped down his stomach into his pants. Feeling brave, she followed them. And to her surprise and delight, his hand fell over hers once again to guide her down and place her palm against his erection, straining insistently inside his pants.

She wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed once, loving the way it twitched in response, the way his breathing changed as she varied the pressure. Squeezing once more, she let go and ran her fingers teasingly from the base to the top, anticipating the gasp that followed. She didn't trouble herself with what any of it meant or where any of it was going. This power that she had over him had always been intoxicating, and she allowed herself to revel in it without any dread of the consequences. So after teasing him for a minute more, she withdrew her hand and raised it to her mouth, licking her palm and each finger before diving back in and listening with supreme gratification to the strangled sighs that spilled from him.

Her hand worked around him slowly at first, speeding up, thumb rubbing against the sticky top once she felt him thrust into her downward motion. The muscles in his back were twitching, trembling as he struggled to hang on until he finally grabbed for some article of clothing he was evidently prepared to ruin and caught his climax just in time. She bit her lip in silent satisfaction, not even worrying about the unmet need that had formed between her thighs. After he cleaned himself up, she let him pull her arm around him once again and fell asleep listening to his heartbeat as its frantic rhythm slowed.

In the morning, she woke first and gently untangled her arms from his to dress and go catch fish with Naga. They rode throughout the day in relaxed silence broken only by the most ordinary observations about the weather and the condition of the ground they were covering.

...

Once night fell, things took another turn. She said good night with her back to him just like always, but there were undeniable sparks in the air, an atmosphere that made itself known only in the ways they tried not to look at each other as they removed their outer layers or the way he apologized for hogging too much of the sleeping bag at first.

Rather than make a move, Korra waited this time, curious to see what he would do, the furious heat of what she wished he would do blazing away between her legs. He owed her, after all. She squeezed her thighs together, rocking just a little bit to get relief until a loud huff spilled involuntarily from her lips. Her cheeks colored a little when she realized he probably heard, but then again, maybe she didn't care if he heard. Maybe it was his turn to listen.

But he wasn't taking the bait. Not yet, at least. Frustrated and resolving to see how far he would let her go on her own, she slid a hand down the front of her pants to part herself and let her middle finger rub against her clit until her breathing came in spasmodic puffs.

Like a sentinel called to duty, he responded, rolling over and resting a hand on her elbow. She felt his nose brush the back of her neck as his fingers followed the line of her forearm down below her waist, middle digit taking over for hers. It moved in slow, small circles that increased in speed and intensity until it dipped downward, tracing the flesh at her opening before venturing inside.

She placed her hand over his, forcing him to go further as she rocked urgently against the motion, spurred on by the feeling of his…keen interest in their activities digging into her back as his hips reflexively thrust forward in time with hers. Things started to come together on a knife's edge of arousal, and she arched her back against him as his arm flexed around her, drawing her closer even as his fingers worked with toe-curling proficiency at her sex. With two fingers thrusting in and out of her, he rubbed his thumb against her clit again, and her body contracted deliciously, releasing as she surrendered and rode out her climax with his strong hand still firm against her.

In the aftermath, she fell almost instantly into the best sleep she'd had in weeks, body pleasantly numb below the waist, comfortably nestled in the circle of his arms with the evidence of his lingering desire still pressed against her buttocks.

...

They continued like this for the next few nights, each of them taking their turn without any explicit agreement passing between them. They never spoke—not after and certainly not during. They never kissed. They never even looked back to meet the eyes of the person pleasuring them, afraid, perhaps, that it would all fall apart if there was any open acknowledgement of what was happening.

In the daytime, they were amicable, cooperative. They struck their tent without bickering over how best to do it, made several miles of uneventful progress—sometimes walking to give Naga a break—before eating together hastily at the end of the day, anxious, it seemed, to undress and climb under the covers, to shut out the lantern and resume their clandestine activities. He would roll over after a few minutes, and his fingers would brush delicately at her through her clothes until she guided him inside. And then they would flip, and she would return the favor.

Their silence allowed Korra to imagine that it was somehow her own private thing, like it was just a dream she kept having, even at the times when the smell of sex was more intense than the smell of polarbear dog and several weeks on the road. She felt alive, content, happy despite their predicament and the long miles that still stretched out before them.

He was the one who broke the spell. It was the morning of Day Seven, and her brain was still buzzing pleasantly from her latest orgasm as she struck the tent and packed their supplies onto Naga's back.

"Are we ever going to talk about this?" he asked out of nowhere.

"Talk about what?" She was aware of just how dumb this sounded.

"About the fact that we've been having sex for the last four nights in a row."

She felt a blush bloom hotly across her cheeks, creeping up toward her hairline and down the back of her collar. But she fought for her dignity. "If that's what you think sex is, Mako, then…"

"You know what I'm talking about."

He was staring at her intensely, and she turned to face him, more than a little angry that he was turning this into a confrontation, that he was demolishing this weirdly perfect arrangement that they'd fallen into almost by accident. He was the one who had started it after all. Well, sort of.

"We're just blowing off steam. It's no big deal."

"You don't think this is a big deal?" She couldn't tell for sure, but his voice sounded stung. His eyes contained something that looked vaguely like longing. If this was a big deal to him, then why had he waited so long to bring it up?

"Do you want to stop?" she asked, because this was a discussion she wasn't really prepared to have.

He waited several seconds to answer. "Only if you do."

It was a standoff. They stared at each other, each waiting for the other to admit that it wasn't all a mistake.

"Ok, we'll stop then." She shrugged, trying to be casual about it. What did it matter? It was all ruined anyway the second he opened his mouth.

The rest of the day was excruciating, and when night finally fell, she didn't sleep a wink.

...

On the eighth day, they found a cave, and in the cave was a volcanic hot spring that offered an ideal place to rest and clean up a bit with a few days left to go before they reached civilization. Korra demanded he hand over his clothes, which stunk even worse than hers—so she said—and she washed them in the bubbling hot water while he went to an opposite corner to bathe. Her back was turned, a tacit promise not to look, but the cave offered little in the way of real privacy. A jut of rock concealed him partially, but she found herself cocking her head slightly to get a glimpse of his naked body in her peripheral vision.

She'd almost forgotten what he looked like underneath his clothes, all sinew and muscle, built in the chest and shoulders but slim at the waist and hips, ribs straining through his pale skin when he reached his arms overhead in a stretch. She enjoyed the sight of him for a minute or so before bending his clothes dry and calling out to let him know that they were ready. A splash echoed against the walls of the cave as he lifted himself out of the water, and knowing it was risky, she ventured another peek out of the corner of her eye, skin tingling when she saw his thin calves and strong thighs come into view, cock resting against his upper leg, buttocks twitching when he moved around to evaporate the clinging moisture.

She listened to him dress behind her, and when he told her he was decent, she turned and found him fixing her with a concentrated look.

"Now it's my turn," he said, gesturing toward her moldering getup, and the flash in his eyes nearly melted her on the spot.

...

That night there was absolutely no way to get comfortable. It was good to be clean, but her skin rasped underneath her clothing. The muscles in her legs were twitchy, and she kept having to re-roll her coat in order to make a better pillow. She knew she was keeping him up with her movement, but she didn't care at this point. She hoped he stayed awake.

"Something wrong?" he asked innocently.

"Nope," she said, a little too loud to be completely casual.

"Can't sleep, huh?"

"What's it to you?"

She heard him roll over, and her stomach tightened a little bit even though he wasn't touching her yet. "I just wish there was some way I could help."

He could be such an asshole.

She breathed a sigh of exasperation. Were they really going to play this game? Really? "Oh, I think you know exactly how you can help."

His fingertips came to rest lightly on her elbow, and her eyes involuntarily fluttered shut. This was agony. His body shifted across the ground, and his breath got closer to her ear.

"I think I do," he whispered. "But you're going to have to do something for me first."

"Fuck you," she retorted, aiming a sharp elbow toward his ribs and missing. He caught it with a hand wrapping around her bicep.

"No, not that," he said, and she rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. She couldn't think too much about how she had walked right into that one because he was moving closer, pressing the full length of his body against hers. He massaged her arm gently before moving his hand to her waist. She heard his breath get desperately close, and then the tip of his nose brushed the shell of her ear. If her clean underclothes weren't soaked already, they likely were now.

"I need to know why we're doing this," he said, his voice losing its teasing sensuousness and becoming serious.

Her eyes opened in confusion. "I'm…I don't know what you're asking."

His hand moved slowly from her waist to her hipbone, which he squeezed a little as he pulled her more insistently against him. He was hard as a rock. "If we're going to keep this up, I need to know what's going on in your head."

He wasn't being smooth, she decided; he was being a dork. He really wanted to know. And she wasn't sure what to say to him. It was cruel, anyway, making her talk about this "relationship" stuff when every nerve in her body was screaming for release. Didn't he think she might say anything to get him to keep going? Or did he think more of her than that?

"What are you expecting me to say?" she said. "I just wanted to do this, ok? I still want to."

In response, he teased the ribbon of skin that peeked out between her layers before letting his palm smooth up her abdomen to brush the backs of his fingers against the underside of her breasts, which she'd left unbound after her bath just for comfort—and maybe sort of kind of in hopes that it would drive him crazy. She inhaled sharply.

"You want me to do that?" he asked, grazing one finger against the side.

"Yes," she hissed through her clenched teeth. His hand finally palmed over the curve as his thumb circled a nipple so stiff it could cut glass. She arched back into him, letting her ass rub against his erection in hopes that it would propel him on. He took his hand from her breast and wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her firmly in place.

"What I want to know is this," he whispered, breath hot against the slope of her neck, blowing aside her freshly dried hair. "Is it really me that you want? Or is this something anyone could do for you?"

She froze in his arms, and he nestled closer, speaking with his lips almost touching her jawline. "It's ok if you say it is, if we've really just been doing each other a favor here. But before I can keep going, I need a straight answer."

"I could ask you the same thing," she said, grabbing his hand and trying to move it lower.

"I think you know what I'll say." He reached down over her clothes and cupped her between her legs.

An involuntary groan escaped from somewhere deep inside her, and she tried to move her hips against his hand even as he held her firmly in place. "You put that hand to work, or I'll take it right off you." She tried to make it sound teasing and sexy but was surprised by her own fierceness. This was getting ridiculous.

"I'm sure, Korra," he said, saying words that were approximately two years late. She froze. "I've been sure for a long time, but this is the first time in two years that you've let me get even close to you. And I need to know why. Why now?"

She felt an instinct to turn her head but resisted it, staring firmly into the darkness as if it would provide her with a way out of this conversation, away from words that seared her flesh with the memories of past heartbreak even as they held out hope. The quiet crept back around them as she continued doing mental calculations, trying to decide if this was really a thing she was prepared to jump into with both feet or if she should just tell him to fuck off. There would be no more casual hand jobs now that he'd taken things into such unbearably intimate territory.

He felt her hesitation and read into her silence, and his grip on her relaxed. "It's ok it's ok. I'm sorry…I shouldn't have…I get it," he stammered, vulnerability and chagrin registering in his tone.

The loss of his touch was like a lance through her belly. "Mako," she nearly screamed, her voice high and desperate. Her hand grabbed onto him reflexively. "Please please don't stop touching me." It sounded alien, a sound she barely recognized as coming out of herself.

As if pulled by invisible forces, he was back on her, his right arm moving underneath her body to hold her tightly and his left finally making its way down beneath her clothes to where she needed him. His lips pressed into the soft skin between her neck and shoulder blade, not kissing her exactly but imprinting their chapped roughness into her skin.

His fingers were strong and dexterous as always, changing patterns until he found one that made her cry out and push back against him. She was making no effort to be quiet this time around. Points of light prickled beneath her eyelids, waves of pleasure rocking through her as she danced at the peak of infinity, seeking the fall into oblivion.

"It's you," she heard herself say, voice cracked and hoarse from day after day of sucking in freezing cold air. "Mako, I want you." He plunged a finger inside of her. "You just you only you always. Always."

He moved two fingers in her as far as they would go. "I want you to come for me," he whispered.

And she was trying. He worked at her precisely as he knew how, precisely as she'd shown him so long ago, but it just wasn't happening. She was climbing climbing climbing, but she couldn't find her way to the pass that would carry her over the top.

"I can't," she choked out. It wasn't enough.

"Tell me what to do," he gasped, sounding as desperate as she was.

In answer, she reached behind herself and tugged at his pants, trying to nudge one side past his hips and failing. He took the hint and worked them off the rest of the way himself, still holding her close to him with his right arm. Her pants were next. He roughly pulled them down to her knees where she fought her way out of them, kicking them frantically away from herself.

With his left hand, he pulled her top leg up and back so that it rested over his and slowly pushed himself inside her from behind, groaning painfully with every inch. "Shit," she called out, thankful there was no one on the tundra to hear her. "Shit shit shit." It had been a, well, a while, and she could scarcely believe how tight she was, how intense it felt to have him fill her. He thrust shallowly into her a few times, the tip pressing against a particularly sensitive spot, and all the while his finger tapped gently at her clit.

She came seconds later.

He continued to move languidly inside her, holding her tight as she rode out the aftershocks. Their breathing was synchronized, hot and gusty. Almost shyly, he kissed her neck, her jaw, nipped at her ear lobe, and for the first time since they'd begun this weird little game, she looked back and found his face, eyes staring lovingly into hers.

His lips pressed against hers dryly, chastely almost, far too innocent a kiss to match what they'd been doing all week. She parted her lips and gave herself to it, relishing the tender intimacy of his lips softly brushing against hers while their lower bodies continued to rock in tandem.

"Are we doing this for real?" she asked, unanswerable questions still racing through her head. "When we get back, I…"

"I'm not going to let you down this time," he said, voice pleading. "I'm willing to fight for this if you are."

His thrusts grew more insistent, and she found her body was heating up again, breaths coming a little more shallowly, words clipped at the edges.

"I love you, Korra," he huffed, the warmth spreading through his chest radiated against her, overheating her underneath the insulated blanket. She was afraid she might melt, so she held onto him, hand reaching back to dig her fingernails into his backside.

"I love you too." There was air between each word.

"Tell me what you want," he said, begging, his hands clutching at her, one coming back down to rest between her legs and the other cupping her right breast and pulling it to a peak.

"I want to feel you deeper," she gasped, the feeling of him moving only as far as this position would allow now teasing her, making her want more. "I want you to just take me."

Once again, she tugged hard on his ass, practically pulling him on top of her. He complied, following her movement until they were both on their knees, him ramming into her from behind, pushing himself forward as far as she could take him, her spiraling toward ecstasy as she felt their bodies collide. Without warning, she felt herself jolt into climax again and a yell clawed its way out of her chest.

"I feel you I feel you," he whispered, redoubling his pace. She felt him burst inside of her, his body collapsing against her back, teeth digging into her shoulder as they finished together. And when he pulled out, she rolled over to pull him down on top of her, kissing him hotly, wetly all over his face and neck, lips popping against his skin as she tried to find territory she hadn't yet covered. He cupped her face and guided her mouth back to his, sliding his tongue past her teeth and kissing her slowly, sensually.

They didn't make any progress on the road the next day. Or the next day either.