Title: A Dry Heat
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Author: piratequeen0405
Chars/Pairs: Zuko, implied Katara
Genres: Canon/Emo-Angst
Warnings: Masturbation
Word Count: 498
Summary: Zuko is tormented by weather, circumstance, and desire. Takes place somewhere around Episode 14-15ish, Season 2
A/N: First attempt at writing for this fandom; inspired by the extreme heat and humidity my area experienced this month.
Oppressive.
If he had to choose one word to describe the air that afternoon, oppressive worked as well as any.
The air was wet and still, thickened with an indolent weight he couldn't abide. It seeped through his skin, invisible and invading, and he felt he couldn't move or speak or think at this usual pace. It didn't soften the restlessness that had plagued him for so many years, only made it even less tolerable.
One more thing he had to tolerate.
Uncle Iroh smiled at him in his Iroh way, bemused by his nephew's irritation. "This energy that you feel, this build-up in the sky, is as vital to life as the fire that courses in your blood. You've felt humidity before…I suspect this time it seems worse because you are surrounded by walls." The walls of Ba Sing Se or some other, more metaphorical, walls? The question hung in the moist air. "It's a different energy, but you'll see," he said. "The rain will come and by morning the air will have cooled and lightened. There is balance to be found, if you choose to seek it."
Zuko understood energy. It was hot and tense and fast. It was part of him and flowed through him, ready to be channeled into flame. It was nothing like this. This energy didn't burn and move; it hovered, like a fetid, damp towel, covering him and making breath difficult, making the scar on his face throb and pulse like a caged beast.
Oppressive.
The rain did finally come, but it was just rain. No lightning—no common ground, no fiery connection. Just rain. Water. The same grotesque heaviness was everywhere, only now it was no longer borne by the sky. It spilled onto the ground, soaking in and becoming hidden again. He stood still and let the rain dampen his clothes, his hair. True, this energy had life, but it was so passive it made him feel sick.
Oppressive.
He retired to their room.
Zuko, alone in the shadows and feverishly hot, lay on his pallet and reached past the rough cotton of his pants to stroke the wild, angry veins pulsing beneath his smooth skin. And tried to ignore the rhythmic tattoo the rain beat on the roof. Tried to ignore thoughts of water…and thoughts of a young, spirited Waterbender. His fist clenched around his stiffening cock, like he could wring away the excess water within him, strangle the source of his frustration. Would this bring him balance, this release? Would a quick climax clear his mind, or only etch keener the liquid depth of her blue eyes?
He would one day find the Avatar, and with that he would encounter her once more. He tried to quell his eagerness at that prospect, but was resigned to its futility. Eyes closed tight, he surrendered to desire and frustration. Wetness was everywhere.
He could no more stop his thoughts of her than he could stop the rain.