Certain Things
Summary:Kataang, OneShot. "There are certain things I take a special pride in," she stated factually, gesturing with her hands. He wanted to ask her what those things were, but he didn't, because he had a feeling that he was going to find out anyway.
A/N: Just wanted to catch the awkwardness of "first time" relationships--and I figured that this idea would carry it out pretty well. Takes place some time after Ozai's defeat.
When they spoke to each other in the evenings, their voices were low and concealed behind the flimsy curtains of the apartment windows. The rest of their group was waiting for orders and, as far as Aang was concerned, they were all to stay with him until his duties as Avatar were somewhat done with. After all, Fire Lord Ozai had only been locked up about two weeks ago. So certain things still needed mending.
He and Katara then, needless to say, had even less time to focus on their barely-kinda-almost-there relation. She wanted to be with him—that much was clear—but at the same time, she wanted to enjoy him when everything around them had relaxed. When Aang's duties as Avatar became less involved and merely mundane monthly responsibilities.
Right now they had settled into a sticky calm that sort of distracted them. It was as if things had been paused since the comet.
Sometimes Katara thought she was waiting too long.
And then it bothered her, because she would have liked to grab Aang around the neck and kiss him. And Aang would readily do the same. But he almost always came home to their temporary lodgings tired and bored, and went straight to his room on his bed—separate from Katara's, across the small, narrow corridor. She could usually hear him snoring or coughing in his sleep, and then she would walk to his room and stand at the doorway, watching him.
"I don't know how long things are going to stay this way," he said to her once, after coming home from an unofficial peace-keeping meeting. Then he touched her shoulder and stretched, yawning audibly, as it was well past midnight. "I mean, it's not like I like it like this. I'd rather be spending my free time with you."
She smiled at him and blushed a little, because his grip on her shoulder had tightened up slightly, and his contact always made her feel content. "It's okay," she returned, smiling again. "I know it's not your fault. I don't like this either."
He shrugged indifferently and sat across the kitchen table from her, hearing Sokka and Toph and Suki holding an argument in the floor directly beneath them.
She diverted her gaze. "Actually...I sort of like living here. With you—I mean. Temporarily. Kind of."
Aang blinked and made a motion to ask what she meant, but then decided against it and sat quietly, mostly because he was tired. But then he said anyway, "I like living here with you too, Katara" which visibly made her happy, as the blush grew a shade deeper.
He took a small dive and put his hand over hers on the table. She looked up. It was obvious that she wasn't expecting it, but it pleased her nonetheless.
"I've been having thoughts about you," Katara admitted in regards to this, smiling quietly again. Her hands were warm beneath his fingers; they were delicate and smooth and the whole state of affairs reminded Aang briefly of when they had visited the fortune teller, Aunt Wu.
"What kind of thoughts?" he asked, smirking from the corner of his mouth.
She laughed and rolled her eyes. "You are such a thirteen-year-old boy."
"One hundred and thirteen," Aang corrected, his eyes glazing over. "I can't help but to act immaturely at such a young age. 'Sides, Water Tribe thoughts turn me on."
He winked obnoxiously. Katara laughed again.
"But really," he continued, "what is it?"
She shrugged, moving her fingers underneath his until their hands were intertwined. She looked at them with fascination. "Nothing bad," she said, "Not in the sense of something bad bad. Like death, or anything. Just...thoughts." Suddenly she frowned and looked up at him. "It's not fair that you have to do all this work."
Aang nodded in agreement and said nothing.
"It's not fair for us, either," she said, "to have to wait like this."
"I wasn't aware we were waiting," he replied casually, tightening his grip on her fingers. There were things that he wasn't comfortable with discussing, and—as it turned out—this was one of them. So Aang shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "We kissed a few times," he explained distantly. "And then everything just...settled."
"Because we're waiting."
Aang shook his head and refused to face her. "No, Katara," he answered, surprising her by disagreeing. "I'm not waiting for anything. You're waiting."
She grimaced decisively and pulled her hands away from him. Aang's eyes widened a little in realization that he had probably said something wrong. Said realization was confirmed when Katara crossed her arms and frowned at him, furrowing her brows and squinting. "What do you mean by that?"
He blinked—tossed into a fierce situation without his consent—and noticed that he was growing more and more awake each second he was here with her, while it was already well past midnight and while he had to wake up early tomorrow. "I—I don't mean anything," he returned, voice raw. "I'm just saying that you're more...reserved...than I am."
Katara's left eye twitched. "You're saying I don't want to be with you."
"No—that's not what I—"
"You're saying that it's a bad thing for me to wait for you to finish all of this?" Her words were clear and precise, but she wasn't looking at Aang when she spoke. "That I should give into you right now because I can—because we can—even though you have things to do, and it's in my better judgment to leave you focused on things that better the world, and not just us. Or at least, because you want me now, you think it's unfair for me to wait for you to finish everything, though we'll have more time to focus on our relationship later. Right?"
His face dripped with desperation. "Katara, I never said anything like that! I don't even—"
"There are certain things I take a special pride in," she stated factually, gesturing with her hands. He wanted to ask her what those things were, but he didn't, because he had a feeling that he was going to find out anyway. Then she stood up and walked to the sink, looking out of the dim window over it, through the flimsy curtain. She waited there until he decided to join her.
His voice was high and shaky. "Katara," he began. "Katara, please. You're being unfair." He touched her shoulder again. But when he did, she turned around fiercely and pressed her lips against his mouth with a brute, intuitive force. Aang stumbled back a little and tried to keep his balance. She broke away from him and crossed her arms over her chest—somewhat exposed in the nightgown she was wearing—and smirked at him.
"Unfairness is one of those things," she said, and walked to her room without adding anything else.
They later found that waiting this way—and being surprised by one another over the course of weeks—was more fun than making final decisions. Besides, there were still certain things that needed to be cleared up. Certain things that needed to be learned from either party—and that urged the use of surprise and excitement and sudden moment impulses. There were certain things Aang took a special pride in too, and he took a great precaution to show them to her.