A short story in which Sokka cannot seem to find the right words to say or the right time to say whatever words it is which he cannot find and realizes that maybe he does not need them, anyway. This feels a little cliché to me, but I'm really rusty so I'll go ahead and post it.
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Sokka squinted at Toph's pink lips, his brow furrowed in fierce concentration as he tried to physically will his ears to hear better, but it was no use; he could not figure out a single word that Toph was saying to him over the buzz of chatting bar patrons and the bass of the band on stage. He knew that he lacked the... skill? Sensitivity? Patience? ...whatever was required in order to read lips, but, and maybe it was the alcohol that was making his head swim, he could not stop staring at her lips anyway. Their light shade, bare of lipstick and thus much more tempting; Sokka hated kissing lipstick, the way that they smoothly danced apart and together to form words that he could not hear, and the way her pink tongue would barely dart between them to wet them had him entranced. Completely.
Toph curled her toes around the brace of her bar stool, her feet too sensitive to constantly take in all of the people and vibrations of the music, while she chatted nonchalantly about what she had been doing since she had seen him a month ago. She could not hear herself over the noise and was very well aware that Sokka had absolutely no idea what she was talking about but he rarely focused all of his attention on her, especially her lips, and she was enjoying the almost painful look on his face.
Someone bumped into her back, releasing a strand of hair that tickled her nose and she paused to blow at it with little effect. Sokka, eyes still on her lips, subconsciously reached out and took the strand between his thumb and finger, rubbing it a little to feel its surprisingly soft texture before tucking it behind her ear, his fingers tracing her lobe as he pulled his hand back. Toph's lips parted slightly in utter shock, her eyes wide and heart pounding. Five seconds later Sokka's eyes slipped into focus and his face perfectly matched Toph's as his brain realized what he had done. His brain was obviously behind his hands, though, because he was rubbing her ear again and the first thought that he had was 'soft.' The following thoughts were fuzzy and contradictory and giving him a headache, so he watched his hand move of its own accord as if he were having an out-of-body experience and stopped thinking altogether.
Toph had never had someone touch her earlobe before, it was... nice. But weird, and for someone like her; someone both blind and not physically affectionate, a little too intense. So she delicately reached up and pulled his hand down before holding it in both of hers and letting her fingers brush over his skin. His hand was much larger than hers; she would always be petite, and very warm but dry, the earth kingdom's atmosphere having sucked the moisture out of it; leaving it rough and cracked. She traced two of her fingers along each of his, scraping over callouses and thin scars, wrinkle lines and tiny hairs. She even took in his nails; short and jagged from his biting habit, and his knuckles; cracked and rough from physical labor, before sliding her fingers to the underside of his wrist where she felt his racing pulse beat beneath them.
Sokka could do nothing but watch her hands inspect his; his brain had slowed way down, but when she lifted her hand and placed it on his cheek his brain stopped altogether. Toph rubbed his cheek with her thumb before moving her hand to his jawline, her skin never breaking contact with his. She traced his jawbone from one side to the other and smiled as she felt his muscles tense under her touch. His stubble was a bit sharp and scratchy, though probably only a day or two old, and she was surprised to realize that she had never thought of him with stubble before. She traced his nose, his eyebrows, his forehead, his hairline, she could feel his blush under her palm, his breath against her knuckles, his surprise in his features. Finally she ran her thumb along his bottom lip, back and forth, before letting it rest in the middle. Sokka stuck the tip of his tongue out and licked it, making Toph pull her hand back at the unexpected sensation. Sokka laughed and, knowing that she could not hear it, grabbed her hand and held it in his. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back, then brushed his lips against her knuckles before turning it over and placing a kiss against her palm. Toph could feel his smile in her hand but had no idea what to do. Just because Sokka had been staring at her lips did not mean that he liked her and she had been too bold in touching him and now his soft, perfect kisses against her skin were breaking her heart. She felt a prickling behind her eyes and pulled her hand out of his grasp, shifting her body away from him and towards the counter. Her twelve-year-old self would have stormed off so that he would not see that he had had an effect on her, but her twelve-year-old self would have also have had a heart attack by now.
Sokka was surprised when she pulled away. And confused. Again. He liked Toph. He knew that Toph liked him. So... what was the problem? Sokka sat back and turned to the bar, too, lost in thought. Aang was much better at this stuff than he was, all 'in touch with his feelings' and 'romantic.' Subtle, though, in his romantic actions, although he could be because Katara knew that he loved her and she loved him back... not that it had always been that way. Well, Aang always loved Katara and Katara always loved Aang but neither of them knew how the other... Sokka smacked his hand against his forehead. She did not know that he liked her and, also, he was an idiot.
Sokka opened his mouth, ready to spew a long, corny, sappy, declaration of liking-ness and maybe he would use the L-word when he remembered that she could not hear him, anyway, and he could not exactly write her a note, so the confession would have to wait. Sokka sighed and glanced over at Toph, his eyes again drawn to her lips which were now pinched together in frustration. Well the confession thing did not really work out for Aang, maybe he could just skip it? With that thought Sokka reached out and cupped Toph's chin, turning her to face him, and placed a light kiss on her cheek. Toph's lips parted in surprise and Sokka brushed his thumb against her bottom lip before placing his lips over hers. Toph's eyebrows somehow managed to raise even further as Sokka pulled back for a second before kissing her full on the mouth. Her lips were as soft and as sweet as they had looked and tasted even better than he had imagined. Toph, for her part, decided that she preferred feeling his lips with hers instead of her thumb. As he let his hand slip from her chin to her hair and she scraped her fingers along the nap of his neck, Sokka decided that this was a better way of catching up than talking, anyway.
