Dreaming was when he had his bending back. He didn't compete; just went through his forms, the water coiling and turning. His dreams weren't always about waterbending; not to say they didn't include a waterbender.
When he dreamed of her, it was of "private lessons," sparring and banter, moving closer until they were dancing, pressed up against each other. It would become more feverish, hands venturing across bodies. Lips would meet. Clothes would come away and –
And he would wake up. He still couldn't bend. She was still pining over that firebender. He was still going to dream about her.