The Honey that Drew Them
Aang had only told Sokka that he was taking a bath so the Water Tribe man wouldn't be surprised to find Aang – well, taking a bath. He guessed Sokka would take one in his own room, just so they could later compare and contrast their bathing experience (it was common for them when bathing together to relay what was happening, mostly because they loved the difference between "I'm washing my hair now, Aang!" and "I'm washing my head now, Sokka!"; it didn't matter that they could see it happening). It came as a bit of a surprise when Sokka entered the bathroom without knocking, a washcloth in hand, saying cheerily, "I have to make sure you wash behind your ears!" in an impressive mimic of Katara's voice.
Aang didn't mind the intrusion, because it was just Sokka and he often did forget to wash behind his ears. He obligingly tilted his head forward when Sokka knelt behind him, rag at the ready.
Sokka clucked his tongue and rubbed behind Aang's ear. "Tsk tsk, Aang, you have such poor hygiene! I'm ashamed."
"I can't help it," Aang joked, scrubbing his arm, "I just get dirty easily."
Sokka dragged the rag across the back of his neck, holding Aang's head still by his jaw. "I guess so." Of course, Aang wasn't any dirtier than he normally was, but that was inconsequential. Sokka dutifully (much more forcefully than necessary, in Aang's opinion) scrubbed at Aang's other ear. "You should be thankful I'm here to keep you clean."
"Oh, I am," Aang reassured him, casually lathering his other arm, for the most part ignoring Sokka's (firmer than necessary, really) hand on his jaw.
Sokka chuckled and ran the cloth across the back of Aang's neck, unperturbed by the goose bumps that lifted on Aang's skin (which he noticed, he always noticed). To keep busy, Sokka started to rub down Aang's shoulders and back, making sure to use plenty of the soapy water and to be gentle around his scar (which still hurt when it rained (stormed), even if Aang pretended it didn't). His hand remained on Aang's jaw.
"Thanks," Aang said, his voice light but the humor gone. "I hate trying to wash my back alone." Even though I could easily just waterbend, he didn't say.
"Yeah, I know," Sokka said, because he knew.
Aang kept scrubbing his arm in the silence that followed (the water started to cool and he let it). Sokka was gentle over the scar but his hand was still rough against Aang's jaw, telling him skin to skin that he would not let go (he was not a fly, he was the honey that drew them). Aang had more patience than Sokka but the goose bumps were inside him and he wasn't completely sure why Sokka hadn't let go.
"There." Sokka dropped the rag, his fingers left in the water just next to (not touching) the dip in Aang's back. "Squeaky clean!"
Aang laughed and Sokka's fingers touched his bottom lip without moving. "Not all of me," he said, and realized four syllables too late that it sounded flirtatious and that the ripples of Sokka's fingers were moving across his thighs.
Sokka chuckled and moved away. "Maybe Katara can help." And he was gone but the ripples still moved over Aang's legs (the goose bumps remained).
