Hey there readers! I feel…..happy. In such a light and fluffy mood and I want to type something sweet. Might turn into other things too of course; but I know that I haven't written anything for you guys in sooooo long. Have a precursor to a bitchin' Summer!

WARNING: Shonen-Ai. Two lads in love. Others know it as YAOI and some know it as a good read ;]

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.

For now My pretties...ENJOY!

xxxxx

Jet could always appreciate a good body. He liked to keep fit himself and had a reputation for touching others. Not that many seemed to mind.

He was sitting with his fore-head against the wall in the shade. It was cool compared to his heat-driven sweat; sliding through his hair and down his neck. The humid weather was making it difficult to think straight; among other things. He wasn't stupid; but he was having a really tough time trying to remember.

Remember when it began. The air had a weight to it; mid-summer. Slowly; he began to rock his head from side to side and frowned. He was recalling a day of rain and it was very heavy at that. Enough to delightfully soak right through clothes; there were plenty of pretty girls charging around to get out of the rain but not so quick that Jet didn't catch a glimpse of purple frills or butterfly-patterns on the faint outlines of a bra.

There were a number of other people rushing through the rain apart from one. Rather begrudged with partially hunched shoulders; half way between guarding in annoyance at the rain and not giving a fucking damn. Jet was curious and recognised him and someone he didn't recognise. Strange, yes; however it was enough to have him watching the other lad until he disappeared around the corner.

Jet opened his eyes slowly, still feeling over-heated and now even a little happily flustered. A half smile achingly pulled the corner of his mouth and he let out a sigh. "Shit…" His shoulders dropped; losing this battle to a face in his mind. There was no forgetting about it now and it wasn't even noon.

Every time he read a newspaper; he remember why he didn't. The bloody things had a mind of their own; flopping and folding in the wrong directions, pages falling out of line only to be crumpled, then the tired arms from holding it open all the time.

It wasn't long before Zuko growled and contorted the pile of paper into a ball. Iroh pulled it from his hands before it was condensed beyond all recovery. "Other people like to read the news too…"

Zuko sat back in his chair and folded his arms with an annoyed frown on his face while Iroh smoothed the pages back out and folded it into a more capable size. "I suggest you try reading magazines. Others your age tend to be into that … and it won't get you in such a bad mood."

The scarred teen irately ran a hand through his short black hair. "Girls are into that stuff… and I'm not in a bad mood." His lack of thought was leaving his lies open for speculation; not that Iroh couldn't tell when he was lying. "You haven't left the shop for days… if you were that self-conscious about your haircut you should not have done it yourself to begin with." Iroh pitied his nephews' lack of patience with summer heat; reading newspapers to distract himself and locking himself indoors so he didn't get into irrational fights over stupid things.

Zuko grew flustered and subconsciously grabbed at his head. "It was dark!" He said in pointless defence. In summer; there was never going to be enough dark to cover up Zuko's horrific hair-cutting skills. The teen would never admit that he'd cut his hair because of something someone had said. He wasn't someone who cared about what people thought of his appearance; not that he had a choice with the massive scar plastering half of his features. If nothing else, caring translated into punching or fighting. His hair had grown long and shaggy and it had started to become uncomfortable in the summer heat.

Iroh new his nephew was easily irritated and wasn't surprised when he up and left for another room.

Zuko trundled down to the cellar of the shop. It was cooler down there; with stone walls insulating the chill of the dark. He stopped halfway down the stairs in the dull light and sat on the steps; holding his head. He hadn't had his hair this short in years and it felt strange to feel the cold on the back of his neck. Suddenly, he remembered another hand touching the back of his neck and jumped at the memory.

This was sending the pale teen into an infinite spiral of confusion and dizziness and not even the cellar chill was doing its job. He felt hot in his top and pulled it off in a grump; throwing it on the steps behind him. Jet was always a touchy feely person but there was no escaping remembering now.

Zuko felt a powerful bump on his arm and was half way to turning and scowling when a familiar voice sounded. "Hey; how the hell can you wear a hoodie in this weather?"

He ended up frowning instead as Jet bustled to sit next to him; "I'm not a summer person." Zuko sat with his leg folded on the wooden pier of the lake. Jet sat very close. "In the four years you've been here, you always wear that stupid jumper. Try taking it off; it's a nice day. Don't waste it in there." Jet tugged at the sleeve of the jumper and Zuko pulled away. "It's hot, don't sit so close."

With a laugh, Jet leant in closer. "If it makes you take that jumper off…Or I could push you into the water. Cool baths are the perfect thing for non-morning folk." Jet teased. Zuko paused; his `friend` was just the person who wouldn't hesitate to bungee-jump into a volcano if it looked fun enough. Nothing would stop him from shoving Zuko in the water.

True enough; Zuko was not overly cheerful when he was waking up. But that wasn't the problem. Rowdy tourists had swamped the café and he couldn't handle the crowd. The whole point of moving out into a small country town on an island was all for Zuko's sake. It was a beautiful place; the only problem was that other people found it beautiful too. Zuko's safe haven was his hooded jumper; and Jet knew that well enough.

However; Jet also liked to think of himself as something to put Zuko in a good mood, being his only `close friend`. Jet liked to say that often and Zuko found himself fighting it less and less. Although; today Zuko was prepared to go back into the horror of the tourist-infested café to avoid his `close friend`. The scarred teen shuffled away, glaring at Jet from under his hood and mop of hair. "Don't you fucking dare…"

Jet lunged but Zuko socked him fully in the face. The tanned teen faltered with an aching jaw but accepted this challenge. He somewhat enjoyed these play-fights; which consisted more of fighting but knowing that they wouldn't kill each other. Even though that's not how Zuko saw it half the time as he swiftly darted back up the pier.

He was cursing mentally how he just had to sit at the very end of the longest pier. He didn't get more than five feet before Jet grabbed him fully around the arms; pulling at everything. "Ok; as thanks for a split lip I'm taking your jeans. You can keep your stinkin' jumper." Zuko growled and grappled. Jet wanted to laugh but was concentrating too much on where the button and zip was for Zuko's trousers.

Twisting out of his grasp; Zuko hurriedly pulled off his hoodie and threw it to the floor. "There; it's fucking off!" That was when he saw the damage his punch had actually done. There was an unmistakable internal wince; he really wasn't a morning person. Jet dabbed the blood away and the two were hesitant. Zuko knew that Jet didn't give up easily but his façade of being distracted with his lip made the pale teen loose his edge a little.

Then Jet lunged and grabbed his wrist and pulled Zuko close; spun them around and let go. There was physical lift off as Zuko was thrown into the lake; kicking in the air pointlessly and soon immersed in the water. He could hear Jet laugh triumphantly and jumping in after him; both fully clothed. Zuko broke the surface and felt his arms and legs buzz with the cold as the lake washed away the summer heat.

He spotted Jet close by beginning to rise and held the tanned teen under the water. Eventually, Jet broke the surface and laughed and grinned; mostly due to the cold. Zuko scowled through the hair plastering to his face. "Bastard! My phone-!" He splashed violently and shrouded Jet in a spray of water and growled. "You didn't even know if I could swim."

Jet floated on his back. "So? My phone is wet too... and I woulda' saved you if you were drowning. C'mon Zuko; you can swim better without that jumper on right?" He asked. Zuko grabbed his foot with the intention of drowning Jet and stated with a frown. "I didn't want to swim." Jet spun in the water and disappeared underneath only to grab Zuko by the waist and throw him into the air. Zuko let out a yelp and kicked Jet in the shoulder.

"Hah-that hurt Zuko! Watch your feet." Jet then smirked. "Oi, you got mud on my vest…" He pulled at his own top. Zuko shook his head so that his hair wasn't so much a suffocating mop over his face but when it cleared he nearly drowned himself. Jet was pulling his top off and Zuko felt the urge to cover his eyes but decided to start swimming away. He was quickly grabbed and couldn't put up much of a fight in his clothes.

Jet then yanked Zukos top up and the scarred teen still couldn't fight back as the wet clothes trapped him until Jet pulled it right off. "There! Now I don't look so weird." The tanned teen smirked. Zuko pulled at his hair to see. "Jet-!" He howled in frustration.

Zuko lay begrudged on the grass. He had chased Jet half way across the lake to the small island near the middle and the two had fought over Zuko's top until they lay rather exhausted to dry out in the sun as well as rest their aching bruises. The fights they had were weird and Zuko knew it. Jet was playful but rough whereas Zuko just wanted the end goal of winning and leaving. Normal people didn't play fight like them and most left them to it. Jet tormented him daily but it was a kind of physical contact which Zuko hadn't minded as time passed by. The pale teen was in his soaking wet clothes whereas Jet had stripped to his boxers.

Jet signed and poked at his friend. "You're hardly going to dry like that…" He murmured. Zuko was lying flat on his back with his arms folded over his chest. "I don't care. I'm going to get wet swimming back to the pier any way. No thanks to you." His tone was only a little bitter. The tanned teen touched Zuko's long hair which had matter to his cheek. "You might have had a better chance of winning if you could see what you were doing y'know." He stated; referring to the long hair-style.

A weird tingling sensation made Zuko shudder as Jet pulled lightly at the wad of hair. He then quickly covered the shudder when he batted away the hand. "Stop touching me." Unfortunately; Jet zoned in on the comment as another challenge. "Oh? Still a cranky bitch? Well it's a good thing you're ticklish."

It was quiet for a second as Zuko thought to himself. `I'm not…-` He then realised his mistake of staying still when Jet tickled at his side. Zuko flinched. "I said stop it-" He cut himself short to stifle a yelp when Jets fingers wriggled under his head and ran along the back of his neck. That sent Zuko springing to his feet and running for the water.

Jet grinned and tackled him in the shallows. "Ha! You are ticklish! This is fantastic!" He cackled while the pale teen wriggled under him. Zuko couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed in public; quite a sad thought over run with every new, frustrated bout of laughter. "Jet-! Jet ssstop! N-no!" There was a small squeak in his voice and Jet got a pleasant chill up his spine. "Oh? Ticklish around the neck?"

What happened next made Zuko grimace in embarrassment as he recalled the sound he made; that very unfortunate groan of submission and exhaustion. Jet had sat on him with that stupid grin; asking if he felt better. Zuko actually did but he wasn't about to admit it at the time. Instead he pushed at Jet and they sat in the shallows of the cool lake continuing small splash battles and then trying to dry out their phones.

Zuko couldn't help a small, very-very small smile when he remembered how Jet thought he was being a smart-ass and pulled apart his own phone to the point of no return. When they returned to the café in the evening Jet hung around and hassled Zuko as he carried out the final chores; not even offering to help as per usual. There was always that thing where Jet pulled at the tassels of Zuko's apron and rustled his black mop of hair saying that he should cut it.

Eventually, the pale teen began to seriously consider cutting his hair to the point where, one evening, he curiously tested a few snips of the scissors.

His partially happy memory turned sour and Zuko banged his head with a groan against the cellar wall. The worst part was having to face Iroh and thankfully there was nothing more than the assumption that it was the heat which drove him to chopping so erratically. Surely Jet would catch on that he'd cut it for another reason; which is why Zuko had feigned illness, heatstroke and then just plain refused to go out because of reasons which Iroh didn't prod into. What seemed to be worse was that he could not find his hooded jumper anywhere and had nearly bitten off Iroh's head about the laundry. He couldn't hide and so he went to the cellar to calm down.

Flustered about not even being able to pull at the short strands in agonising embarrassment, he continued on his spiral of emotions. `This is why people don't have friends!` He cursed internally and then kicked at something nearby. Part of his spiral consisted of debating whether or not he was just embarrassed about cutting his hair so short, or for the reasons behind cutting his hair. And then that hair-cuts were something that girls troubled over; especially when there was a boy involved. Then Zuko fell into that deep, dark hole of uncertainty about whether or not Jet was still just a friend.

Iroh flinched when he heard a chorus of clatters coming from the cellar and apologised to the customer he was serving. "He's…doing some late-spring-cleaning…" He said with a reassuring smile.

Zuko had thrown whatever he could get his hands on and his temper tantrum only stopped when he threw a metal bucket and it came back to hit him. In pain and panting; feeling that he had exerted most of his confusion on the poorly cleaning equipment, he sat down on the freshly cleaned bed.

When they first moved here; Zuko took to sleeping in the cellar. He had a bed upstairs; however when he was having a bad time, Iroh made sure to keep the cellar as clean as possible and make both beds. The pale teen flopped onto his side and took a deep breath, relishing in the normal scent of the bedding. He hadn't slept down here for a while but it blocked out a lot of the noise from the café so much so that he caught himself slipping into sleep. It might have been just after mid-day and the buzz of the remaining tourists slowly called Zuko back into a light snooze.

Just after lunch; Jet found himself at the back door to the café. He blinked a few times before realising that he hadn't knocked yet; and he didn't know if he was going to. Zuko had been avoiding him for a while and he was curious about just how ill Iroh would believe he was this time. He shrugged off any doubts he had about seeing Zuko today. More and more recently, Jet had been spending time at the café than he had anywhere else. It was a nice place, a cool place. Always lively and then quiet at the right times. It also smelled so nice with aromas of tea and other sweet things.

He wrapped Zuko's hooded jumper around his waist and knocked on the door.