[LoK] Rise and Fall, Makorra
Title: Rise and Fall
Rating: PG
Fandom: Avatar: the Legend of Korra
Disclaimer: Characters and story belong to Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, Nickelodeon.
Characters/Pairing: Mako/Korra
Warnings: None.
Comments: Originally posted on Tumblr 14 April 2012, in response to chongthenomad's prompt: CRAZY MAKORRA HEADCANON TIME.
The needle skipped once, a brief scratching noise ringing in the bell before it fell into the right grooves and an upbeat melody started to play. The record, Mr. Chong explained as he blew imaginary dust off the disc, was one of his customers' favorite purchases right now. One of those songs that they played in those new-fangled dance clubs where all those young people liked to go these days, he said-a far cry from the slow, swooning music of earlier that night.
Korra was already in position, both hands extended expectantly, a look on her face as if to say, well? This was your idea. Mako hesitated, until his brother gave him a firm shove in her direction, and he stumbled into her arms. Automatically his right hand settled in the dip of her waist, while his left groped for her fingers. Her free hand landed firmly on his shoulder, gripping a little too hard to be graceful; he could see the muscles in her arms tensing.
"I don't know how to dance," she confessed under her breath.
"Neither do I," he admitted back. "Not to anything like this."
On the first try, they stepped in opposing directions. Feet shuffled, trying to get back to the pose they started in, clasping and re-clasping their hands in an attempt to make their palms fit comfortably. Again, they began; again, they each tried to pull the other in opposite steps.
"Cut that out," Mako snapped, annoyed. "I'm the man, let me lead!"
Korra responded by turning firmly to the side, pulling Mako with her, and his feet tangled trying to stay upright.
It was all wrong; Korra was trying to imitate the adults from earlier, a dance she did not know to a song it did not fit, and she was dragging Mako along for the ride. Once or twice he tried to resist her, only to realize he had no ideas, and she seemed to have her own, anyway. Their knees bumped, her skirt brushed against him, his left foot collided with her shin; again, she turned them.
Step. Push. Step. Pull. Push. Turn. There was no pattern to Korra's movements, no way to determine where she would go next, nothing to be done but follow. Their hands hung in the air beside them, through that touch Korra would guide him. And slowly, Mako realized, he could guide her as well. A light pressure meant she wanted to push; instead he pushed back, turning her around, unable to contain a triumphant smirk as she stumbled over herself. She returned, and they spun in the direction they had just come; then back. The hand on Mako's shoulder slid to his chest for better leverage, and he pulled her closer to him to counter.
Step. Stumble. One way, back the other. Korra was laughing now, her steps growing wider, more elaborate in an attempt to trip up her partner. Their legs tangled, it was a miracle they didn't fall. Were they following the beat any more? Mako didn't know, and neither did Korra.
They were lost in their own world, dancing to a song only they could hear, composed of laughter and smiles and a night not as wasted as they thought.
Rating: PG
Fandom: Avatar: the Legend of Korra
Disclaimer: Characters and story belong to Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, Nickelodeon.
Characters/Pairing: Mako/Korra
Warnings: None.
Comments: Originally posted on Tumblr 14 April 2012, in response to chongthenomad's prompt: CRAZY MAKORRA HEADCANON TIME.
The needle skipped once, a brief scratching noise ringing in the bell before it fell into the right grooves and an upbeat melody started to play. The record, Mr. Chong explained as he blew imaginary dust off the disc, was one of his customers' favorite purchases right now. One of those songs that they played in those new-fangled dance clubs where all those young people liked to go these days, he said-a far cry from the slow, swooning music of earlier that night.
Korra was already in position, both hands extended expectantly, a look on her face as if to say, well? This was your idea. Mako hesitated, until his brother gave him a firm shove in her direction, and he stumbled into her arms. Automatically his right hand settled in the dip of her waist, while his left groped for her fingers. Her free hand landed firmly on his shoulder, gripping a little too hard to be graceful; he could see the muscles in her arms tensing.
"I don't know how to dance," she confessed under her breath.
"Neither do I," he admitted back. "Not to anything like this."
On the first try, they stepped in opposing directions. Feet shuffled, trying to get back to the pose they started in, clasping and re-clasping their hands in an attempt to make their palms fit comfortably. Again, they began; again, they each tried to pull the other in opposite steps.
"Cut that out," Mako snapped, annoyed. "I'm the man, let me lead!"
Korra responded by turning firmly to the side, pulling Mako with her, and his feet tangled trying to stay upright.
It was all wrong; Korra was trying to imitate the adults from earlier, a dance she did not know to a song it did not fit, and she was dragging Mako along for the ride. Once or twice he tried to resist her, only to realize he had no ideas, and she seemed to have her own, anyway. Their knees bumped, her skirt brushed against him, his left foot collided with her shin; again, she turned them.
Step. Push. Step. Pull. Push. Turn. There was no pattern to Korra's movements, no way to determine where she would go next, nothing to be done but follow. Their hands hung in the air beside them, through that touch Korra would guide him. And slowly, Mako realized, he could guide her as well. A light pressure meant she wanted to push; instead he pushed back, turning her around, unable to contain a triumphant smirk as she stumbled over herself. She returned, and they spun in the direction they had just come; then back. The hand on Mako's shoulder slid to his chest for better leverage, and he pulled her closer to him to counter.
Step. Stumble. One way, back the other. Korra was laughing now, her steps growing wider, more elaborate in an attempt to trip up her partner. Their legs tangled, it was a miracle they didn't fall. Were they following the beat any more? Mako didn't know, and neither did Korra.
They were lost in their own world, dancing to a song only they could hear, composed of laughter and smiles and a night not as wasted as they thought.