choke
. helium lost .
Author's Notes: Another fic that's about six months late . I am very, very punctual indeed—really!
Dedication: For the lovely, awesome Whomever, who requested Jetara for my drabble meme. I'm very sorry for the delay D: I hope you forgive me and that you enjoy it! Admittedly, there's not much between them here in terms of, say, words, or action, but… well… hi. :D
His lips are surprisingly rough, considering that his words are so sweet and gentle.
She lets a sigh escape her parted lips as his hands run over her body, feeling the curves beneath the blue fabric. A blush paints her cheeks in shades of maple-red, the same color as the leaves that are falling outside past the treehouse windows. Sunlight drifts lazily in, illuminating the specks of dust hanging in the air. From outside, she can hear shouts and laughter, footsteps, running, jumping—but in here—in here, it's quiet, with just the two of them and their breathing.
"You're beautiful," he whispers, trailing a finger down her cheek, and she shudders as a chill runs up her spine. She bites her lip almost hard enough to make it bleed, and she lets out a choked cry. Some part of her wants this to continue, but another part of her wants it to stop because, even though it feels so deliciously right, it feels so utterly wrong.
"I…" she begins, but he plants a kiss on her cheek, and the words are caught once again in her throat.
"Shh," he whispers. "There's no need for words."
And he trails his rough lips down her cheek and kisses her neck, then kisses her collarbone; he flicks out his tongue and runs it along that smooth, protruding bone, savoring the softness of her skin. Her skin is flawless and is a beautiful, rich color; he trails his tongue back up the side of her neck, feeling her pulsing artery beneath. She whimpers and covers her face with one hand and draws blood from her lip; she's shaking with a raw mixture of both fear and pleasure.
"I…" she begins again, and he kisses her cheek, once, twice, then nips at her earlobe. "I… ahh…"
She melts in his arms as his fingers wander over her, tracing out the curve from her chest to her hips, and she jerks, half of her body trying to pull away, and the other half yearning to remain with him. He leans down and kisses her lips, savoring the taste of the beads of blood that are welling up; he parts her lips gently with his tongue and explores her, then draws back to lightly trail his tongue over her lips.
"Do you like it?" he murmurs, and Katara breathes out heavily before gulping and nodding—a small nod, yes, but a nod nonetheless.
"Do you want more?" he breathes, and Katara doesn't resist as he trails his hand up her thigh; she doesn't protest when he slips his hand up her shirt and feels the flat muscle of her abdomen; and she only whimpers and gasps as his hand creeps upward.
The light coming in through the doorway is suddenly blocked as a shadow is cast over the two of them, and he looks up, the languid smirk wiped off his face—but the only person standing in the doorway is Longshot, an eyebrow raised.
"Ah, right," Jet says, the smirk returning to his face. "I almost forgot—I'll go now and get those plans ready."
And he parts from her, walks out, and leaves her alone (a shivering, shuddering mess on the ground, the warmth coursing through her rapidly becoming painful heat—and she opens her mouth and lets out a single, solitary sob).
Author's Notes: I hope you liked it, Whomever! ; 3;