All Bets Off

Sokka and Suki spar. Everybody wins and everybody loses.

It had started as a friendly observation made by Suki just before dinnertime.

"We haven't sparred in awhile," she'd said casually as she'd bent to gather more wood from the pile to haul into the house.

Sokka had let the hatchet fall one final time, where it stuck in its tree stump, and looked around as if to discover whatever it was that had made her think of sparring. Finding nothing out of place amidst the snowed-in huts of Kyoshi, he had turned his eyes to the young woman standing before him, hauling wood in her plain winter clothing. The cold had made her nose a delightful shade of red, and her pale face stood out starkly from the hood of her brown overcoat.

Scrutinizing her so closely really hadn't helped his powers of articulation, but he had learned the hard way that any and all sexist comments (especially those meant in jest) went over worse with her than they did with Katara. So, in lieu of responding how he had wanted to – which was, "What are you talking about? We sparred last night. Twice." – he'd given the dojo a searching look. It had turned out to be very empty.

And what was supposed to be a quick, easy workout – to help them stretch, and keep them in form and to add a bit of an edge to their hunger for the approaching meal – had turned into a knock-down, drag-out, no-holds-barred, completely unprofessional brawl before ending in a stale-mate.

Of course, neither Suki nor Sokka could accept that outcome, and unless one of them forfeited, it was going to be a very long night.

"Give!" Suki ordered again, one arm clamped firmly around Sokka's neck, elbow pressing hard against his ear.

"Like hell!" he responded, and gave another experimental tug on her waist, which he had managed to wrap an arm around; still no good, because she had anchored herself by locking her right leg around his.

"Would you just give already?!" she pleaded, shaking him.

"I'm not gonna give! You give!"

"NO!" she shouted, and shook him again.

"Oh, come on!" Sokka wheedled, giving another tug: she didn't budge, and his shoulder was beginning to ache from the odd angle. "We both know I'm going to outlast you."

"Ohhh," she pronounced slowly, her hold on his neck tightening. "We do, eh?"

Then she leaned in and licked the back of his ear.

"Hey!" he squealed, his grip on her waist slipping a few inches before tightening again. "No fair! We agreed: no dirty pulls!"

"That wasn't dirty," she responded demurely.

Sokka gave her an annoyed look, and cautioned in a low, level voice, "Don't think I don't know your game, missy. I've got you all figured out."

"I bet you do," Suki murmured, pressing herself in close and wriggling as suggestively as possible. "You're always on top of things."

Sokka's hold slipped again, farther this time, never retightening, and he couldn't help but wonder when and where she'd learned to be so brazen. It took a good deal of confidence to try and win over an enemy by batting your eyelashes, and though Suki was a more than accomplished warrior, she had always seemed disbelieving when he'd called her pretty. Either her opinion of herself had grown exponentially, or she had become incredibly good at bluffing.

Or maybe she just wanted to have another go at him, and this rather roundabout way was her attempt to keep him from discovering her insatiable appetite for bed wrestling. The way she was rubbing against him, it was fairly obvious that her desires had shifted from winning to getting him naked – again.

Suddenly, the press of her breasts against his back became far more personal. He felt every breath she drew. The pressure of her thigh locked around his, her ankle hooked around his calf just below the knee, was enough to bring to mind the memory of the first time he'd been bold enough to try something new – and it had turned out to be a very, very good idea.

So again he let the arm he'd wrapped around her waist grow slack, but instead of letting go all together his hand slid beneath the hem of her loose tunic. She tensed, and in that moment he was able to find the soft skin on her back. He stroked his thumb along the base of her spine, and he let his fingers dance lightly up her side. Her arm began to loosen as she bit back a giggle – he'd discovered early on that she was just as ticklish as he was – and she began to squirm.

"Cut that out!" she said breathlessly, still twisting against him as he continued the assault to her unprotected side. "S'not fair!"

"Not fair!" he exclaimed, rejoicing silently as her hold loosened again. Already his breath was coming easier. "Who was just licking my ear? Was that you? Cause that didn't seem very fair to me."

Then, because it would take her completely by surprise (and piss her off just the tiniest bit), he pinched her. Hard.

Suki yelped and let go of his neck entirely. She would have jumped away, but the leg she'd locked around his kept her firmly in place. He used the momentum of her pull to flip himself around in a move that was only half as awkward as it looked, and his added weight was more than enough to send her sprawling backwards. She landed heavily, then grunted when his landing (heavy, across most of her person) knocked the wind form her lungs.

Before she could even breathe he was kneeling between her legs, his hips against hers, pressing her to the floorboards. He caught up both her wrists in a strong, gentle grip and pinned them above her head.

Time stopped, and so did her struggling.

If there was one thing Sokka had that she didn't it was superior body mass, and most of it was resting on her pelvis and lower stomach. The contact sent a delicious, unbidden shiver up her spine, and she couldn't help the way it made her move against him. He drew in a deep breath, and looked at her the way he did when he really wanted something. Whether that something was her, or another helping of dinner never made much of a difference, except for the light in his eyes. Before him, she'd never seen such a shade of blue.

"You win," she said simply, and found there was just enough slack on her arms to raise her head and press her mouth to his.

He let her have her way, and even kissed her back for a few fleeting moments before pulling away from her with a smug grin, pinning her more tightly against the wooden floor.

"I knew it," he gloated, shaking his head down at her. "I knew it!"

"Knew what?" she asked absently. She was far too busy licking the skin exposed by the collar of his tunic.

"I had it figured out a looooong time ago. You – would you stop that? I'm trying to explain my thought process, and it's kinda hard when you- Ow!"

"You big baby," she murmured against his chest.

"Hey!" he yelped, when she bit his other nipple. "That hurts!"

"Shut up and take my clothes off," she demanded, squirming beneath him. "Or let go of my hands so I can do it."

"Suki, we can't- I mean we shouldn't- Anyone could walk in-"

She'd gotten loose by that point, and started pulling at his belt. She had her hand halfway down the front of his breeches before he could really register that she'd moved at all. Her tunic had fallen open – he wasn't quite sure how – and he wasn't quite sure whose hands those were but they certainly looked like his, and she was certainly responding like they were his. She was making that sound in the back of her throat (his name, and some unintelligible syllables), and her kiss was more tongue and teeth than love and tenderness. Her touch, delicate and precise only a short moment ago, grew lax and fleeting before falling away all together. Her hands fell to her sides to scrabble uselessly at the smooth floorboards, and then she was pushing his tunic off his shoulders and clutching his head to her chest, pressing his cheek against her hot, flushed skin. She had her legs locked tightly around his waist, her knees pressing in against his ribs, but with only a little effort he was sliding down her body, pulling at the laces on her breeches with one hand as he wrapped the other arm around her thigh, hooking her knee over his shoulder. She was all but shivering in anticipation.

Then she shrieked.

"I haven't gotten there yet," Sokka said jokingly, his voice tight, but then he looked up, past Suki's still very exposed torso, to the crack in the sliding door, and the person standing behind it.

With a shriek of his own, Sokka leapt away from Suki and scrabbled for his pants - which were still very much undone – as Katara began to babble apologies, hiding her eyes behind both her hands. "I told you so," he muttered angrily.

Suki crossed her arms over her chest and blushed.

AN: So... Avatar, huh? You still write that, Jojo? Go fig...