Title- Feel Better
Rating- K+
Characters/Pairings- Kataang
Genre(s)- flufffffffffffffff
Summary- Katara catches cold. Aang, as usual, does his best to make her feel better.
A/N- This is filling a request for tophbeithong on Tumblr.
SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME I CAN'T STOP WRITING THE FLUFFIEST RESPONSES TO THESE PROMPTS.
Aang could tell something was off almost the moment he opened the door. Whether it was the unusual stillness or the distinct lack of light despite the lateness of the hour, something clued the nineteen-year-old Avatar in to the fact that all was not quite right.
The little house in Ba Sing Se's upper ring had become something of a home base for him and his friends. Only two streets away from the Jasmine Dragon, the young members of Team Avatar often used the house the Earth King had bequeathed to them as a sort of mutual home-away-from-home. It was most frequently used by Aang (and by extension his fiancee), as he didn't exactly have another home to return to, and his work as the Avatar often brought him to Ba Sing Se. For the last two weeks, while he had gone to help settle a dispute between the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation regarding shipping routes in the western waters, Katara had stayed behind in the city in hopes that she could assist the cause by pressing the case for cooperation with King Kuei.
Aang looked around the common area, squinting his eyes against the unbroken darkness inside. He used a little waterbending to rid himself of the evidence of the thorough soaking he had gotten in the heavy rain that was drenching the city.
"Katara?" he called. "Are you home?"
A loud sneeze from the back of the room and an irritated groan were his only response.
Quickly setting aside his staff and pulling his scarf from around his neck, he hurried across the floor to the rear of the house. There, he found Katara curled up on one of the little ornate couches. Despite being buried under a heavy blanket, she was shivering visibly. A soggy handkerchief was clutched in her hand, and her nose was red and chapped. Her hair was a chaotic, frizzy mess. Aang's heart went out to her at the sight, and he crouched down next to her, reaching out to touch her shoulder gently.
She looked up at him with bleary eyes, then with another groan, she pulled the blanket up over her head completely, hiding herself from view. "Ugh, dod't look at be," she said in a voice thick with congestion. "I'b a bess."
"You look fine," he assured her, trying to pull the blanket back down so he could see her face. She resisted his efforts, stubbornly staying concealed beneath the spun wool. Despite his concern for her, Aang couldn't help but smile at her determined attempt to hide from him. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Do," she said sourly, finally relinquishing her grip on the blanket. "I'b sick."
"I couldn't tell," he teased gently. He was rewarded with a reluctant smile.
"I thought you said I look fide," she said.
"You do. I took a guess from the context."
She smirked. "Dice save, airbe- Achoo!" She interrupted herself with another violent sneeze that she just barely caught in her handkerchief. She flopped back on the couch with a moan and covered her streaming eyes with one graceful hand. "This has beed the worst day," she muttered.
He gave her a sympathetic smile. "You wanna talk about it?"
"Dot really. The Earth Kigg is beigg deliberately obtuse add it hasd't stopped raidigg sidce you left and Gederal Stupidhead Kwad gave be his cold."
"General Stupidhead, huh?"
Katara pulled the blanket up over her head again and sighed. "Yes."
Aang grinned a little. He had discovered a long time ago that Katara tended to revert to petulance when she was sick, and as concerned as he was for her health, he couldn't help but find it strangely endearing.
"Katara."
"Mm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Mm-hm."
"Why are you lying out here on the couch? You'd be more comfortable in the bed."
"Stupid bed sucks whed you're dot here."
Katara had always been a very affectionate, demonstrative partner. She loved him and she made sure he knew it. But it was moments like this, when she showed him all the little ways she had integrated him thoroughly into her life, that he saw how true and sincere that love really was. Aang's heart melted at her words. He pulled back the blanket and attempted to kiss her, but she pushed him away.
"Uh-uh. You'll get sick, too," she protested.
"I don't care," he said, continuing his attempts to reach her lips despite the hand she was pressing against his chin to stop him.
"I do," she pointed out. "It's bad edough that I'b sick, but we just got the wall repaired after Toph threw a hissy fit. We dod't need you sdeezing yourself through the roof as well."
Aang had to concede that much to her logic. Airbender colds were messy affairs. "Fair enough," he sighed. Then, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he swooped down and pressed a kiss to her cheek instead. "Come on," he said softly. "Let's get you to bed."
Gently, he slid one arm under her legs and another behind her back and lifted her from the couch easily. He carried her the length of the room and into the bedroom they had claimed as theirs in recent years. He laid her down on her side and pulled the covers over her. She immediately snuggled down into the mattress, but when Aang stood up, she sat up as well.
"Where are you-?"
He shushed her gently. "I'll be right back," he assured her.
Once Aang was assured that she had settled back down, he hurried to the washroom and retrieved her hairbrush. Upon returning to the bedroom he slid into the bed beside her. "Sit up a minute," he coaxed her gently.
When he'd gotten her settled upright against the pillows, he went about untangling the lopsided remnants of her braid. Her hair was a complete mess, and he knew how crazy it drove her when she didn't or couldn't take care of her hair. Having no hair himself, Aang had always been a little bit fascinated by his fiancee's hair, and when he was sixteen he had finally asked her to teach him how to care for her hair. It was a nice excuse to be close to her and run his hands through her soft brown curls, and she enjoyed having him take care of her hair.
Doing his best not to tug on the multitude of knots that had somehow worked their way into her long locks, he ran the brush through her hair. Katara let out a soft hum of contentment as he worked. He worked his way from the bottom up to her scalp the way she had taught him. When he was finished, he tied her hair back in a simple braid.
She let out a soft sigh and dropped back against his chest tiredly. He wrapped his arms around her chest and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Feel better?" he asked.
"Mm-hm."
"Sleepy?"
"Mm-hm."
They laid back down, Katara coughing a little as she did so. He tried to pull her close against his chest, as he had nearly every night since they began sharing a bed almost two years previously, but she turned away from him in a further attempt to avoid passing on her cold, so he simply cuddled up behind her instead.
"You're warm," she whispered.
"So are you."
"But I have a fever. You're just hot."
"Why thank you."
He could practically hear her rolling her eyes, and knew she was trying not to smile (and probably failing, if he knew her). "You dow what I mean," she said, nudging him pointedly in the ribs with her elbow.
"Yeah, I do," he replied.
A long silence ensued and then he heard her say, very quietly, "You are pretty hot the other way, too, though."
Aang concealed his broad (and more than slightly smug) grin against her shoulder. "Look who's talking," he reminded her.
She laughed a little, then sniffled loudly.
"Sleep," he commanded. "You'll feel better in the morning."
"I already feel better," she mumbled, clearly already halfway asleep. She yawned. "You always... dow just what to do to... make me feel better..." And just like that, she nodded off.
Aang brushed aside one last lock of hair that he had missed, smiling affectionately at the sight of his sleeping wife-to-be, and snuggled even closer to her, listening to the slightly raspy sound of her breathing. Not long afterward, he drifted into sleep as well.