The Arena has a men’s locker room and a women’s, with showers in each--thank the Spirits, or Korra’s sudden Bolin-related crisis would be a lot harder to ignore. As it is, she shoves her disgusting workout clothes into a cubby and pads, naked, over to the nearest shower, intent on letting the steam clear her mind of any and all thoughts Bolin.
She turns the shower tap to the right. Nothing. Frowning, she turns it to the left, and is met with similar results. No.
She scurries to the next shower, and to the third, and to the fourth. The place is completely dry.
“Seriously?” Korra says, to no one in particular. Seriously, the showers seem to reply. Korra has to close her eyes and think of Tenzin to prevent a surge of elemental irritation from dealing further damage to the already completely useless locker room.
She opens her eyes and her gaze falls on the door that leads to the hallway, which leads to the men’s locker room, which leads to Bolin.
Well, I need to shower somewhere, she thinks, wrapping the nearest clean towel around herself and setting off toward her imminent doom.
After a moment’s hesitation, she forces herself to open the door to the men’s locker room. A thick cloud of steam billows through the crack.
“Um, Bolin?” she calls, peaking her head inside. The steam obscures most of the room’s contents, and if Bolin has an answer for her it’s drowned out by the loud spray of water against floorboards.
“Bolin?” Korra tries again, stepping inside. No answer. She creeps toward the source of steam and spray, turns a corner, and finds-
Oh.
She’s never seen a naked boy before. Oh, sure, Katara had shown her diagrams depicting male anatomy in preparation for healing lessons, and her mother had explained the mechanics of sex after her first bleed at the age of twelve. Korra’s mind had eagerly filled in the blanks, and since arriving in Republic City she’s finally had the freedom to conduct more…extensive research on the topic (she will never, ever forgive Meelo for almost exposing her secret stash of literature to Tenzin.)
But seeing Bolin…like this…is something entirely new and different from all of that. His eyes are closed, his expression slack. He runs a hand through his hair, dipping his head back for better exposure to the showerhead, the muscles in his arm and stomach rippling with the motion. Transfixed by shock and horror (and maybe something else, if the sudden tingling between her legs is any indication), Korra’s eyes track the stream of water as it cascades over Bolin’s head, down his neck to his chest, then his stomach, finally arriving at his-
Bolin opens his eyes, and the show comes to an abrupt halt.
“KORRA!” His scream is deafening, snapping Korra back to reality. “What are you doing here?!”
“The girls’ showers are broken!” she yelps, and she can literally feel her eyes bugging out of their sockets. “Why aren’t you using the curtain?!”
“Because I didn’t think I needed to! It’s nine o’clock at night, we’re the only ones here!”
“I should--I need to--” Korra attempts, one hand flying up to cover her eyes--an utterly futile gesture, considering the damage already done--the other wildly gesticulating in the general direction of the exit. “Um. Bye.”
“Wait-”
“No, seriously Bolin, you don’t understand. I need to go-”
“Seriously, Korra,” Bolin says, and there’s something massively unsettling about the tone of his voice, because by Korra’s calculations it should be approximately three pitches higher and roughly one million times more hysterical right about now. But it isn’t either of those things. It’s…calmer than it was five seconds ago. Maybe even a little contemplative.
Oh no.
“Do you need to go?” Bolin continues. “Or do you want to go.”
“Um,” Korra manages. “What.”
“I just mean,” Bolin says, and his voice is suddenly very close, and the air around them is suddenly very thick, hot and practically dripping with moisture and Korra wonders, wildly, if she might be in danger of suffocating. “The shower’s big enough for two. If you want.”
She turns the shower tap to the right. Nothing. Frowning, she turns it to the left, and is met with similar results. No.
She scurries to the next shower, and to the third, and to the fourth. The place is completely dry.
“Seriously?” Korra says, to no one in particular. Seriously, the showers seem to reply. Korra has to close her eyes and think of Tenzin to prevent a surge of elemental irritation from dealing further damage to the already completely useless locker room.
She opens her eyes and her gaze falls on the door that leads to the hallway, which leads to the men’s locker room, which leads to Bolin.
Well, I need to shower somewhere, she thinks, wrapping the nearest clean towel around herself and setting off toward her imminent doom.
After a moment’s hesitation, she forces herself to open the door to the men’s locker room. A thick cloud of steam billows through the crack.
“Um, Bolin?” she calls, peaking her head inside. The steam obscures most of the room’s contents, and if Bolin has an answer for her it’s drowned out by the loud spray of water against floorboards.
“Bolin?” Korra tries again, stepping inside. No answer. She creeps toward the source of steam and spray, turns a corner, and finds-
Oh.
She’s never seen a naked boy before. Oh, sure, Katara had shown her diagrams depicting male anatomy in preparation for healing lessons, and her mother had explained the mechanics of sex after her first bleed at the age of twelve. Korra’s mind had eagerly filled in the blanks, and since arriving in Republic City she’s finally had the freedom to conduct more…extensive research on the topic (she will never, ever forgive Meelo for almost exposing her secret stash of literature to Tenzin.)
But seeing Bolin…like this…is something entirely new and different from all of that. His eyes are closed, his expression slack. He runs a hand through his hair, dipping his head back for better exposure to the showerhead, the muscles in his arm and stomach rippling with the motion. Transfixed by shock and horror (and maybe something else, if the sudden tingling between her legs is any indication), Korra’s eyes track the stream of water as it cascades over Bolin’s head, down his neck to his chest, then his stomach, finally arriving at his-
Bolin opens his eyes, and the show comes to an abrupt halt.
“KORRA!” His scream is deafening, snapping Korra back to reality. “What are you doing here?!”
“The girls’ showers are broken!” she yelps, and she can literally feel her eyes bugging out of their sockets. “Why aren’t you using the curtain?!”
“Because I didn’t think I needed to! It’s nine o’clock at night, we’re the only ones here!”
“I should--I need to--” Korra attempts, one hand flying up to cover her eyes--an utterly futile gesture, considering the damage already done--the other wildly gesticulating in the general direction of the exit. “Um. Bye.”
“Wait-”
“No, seriously Bolin, you don’t understand. I need to go-”
“Seriously, Korra,” Bolin says, and there’s something massively unsettling about the tone of his voice, because by Korra’s calculations it should be approximately three pitches higher and roughly one million times more hysterical right about now. But it isn’t either of those things. It’s…calmer than it was five seconds ago. Maybe even a little contemplative.
Oh no.
“Do you need to go?” Bolin continues. “Or do you want to go.”
“Um,” Korra manages. “What.”
“I just mean,” Bolin says, and his voice is suddenly very close, and the air around them is suddenly very thick, hot and practically dripping with moisture and Korra wonders, wildly, if she might be in danger of suffocating. “The shower’s big enough for two. If you want.”
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