How do you combat writer's block? Porn! Set at the Western Air Temple, pre Boiling Rock. ;)
Pale fingertips trail idly across smoky brown skin, relishing the sudden appearance of tiny bumps that trail in their wake. The boy lying prone on his back shivers as his skin is further exposed to the brisk air, knots undone and layers removed by those nimble fingers. He finds himself panting, eyes shut tightly against the teasing waves of pleasure these feather light barely there touches are sending through him.
Fabric brushes across his exposed chest, aggravating an already overwrought nipple and, in his mind, he compares the feeling to being electrocuted, if only being electrocuted were this indescribable sort of amazing that he can't even name because he's never felt like this before.
He wants to protest the injustice of the situation. It's really not fair that he's lying against the cold hard ground, tender skin left to the mercy of the elements like this while the young man above him, playing his body like the most sensitive harp ever created, remains fully clothed.
But he forgets it quickly as a new, not quite strong enough, wave of pleasure sweeps over him and he's suddenly doing his best to become a human bow as he arches his back so far off the ground that his lover has to readjust his previously languid position in order to continue his ministrations.
A low raspy chuckle escapes the pale man's throat as he urges his eager plaything to keep this new, almost unnatural, position by lightly pinching a swollen and over sensitive nub between calloused fingertips, enough to earn a choked sob of repressed pleasure from the boy below him. With his other hand he coaxes strong, tan legs to bend and thrust toned and slender hips even further off the ground. He smiles with satisfaction at the body before him, all long lines and sinewy muscle, quivering with a thirst that only he can quench.
"Zuko… please." The boy on the ground barely manages a throaty whisper, all his breath lost to his body when battle roughened skin brushes across his naked inner thigh, so close, oh so close. He presses the back of his head into the firm ground and raises himself to the tips of his toes in an attempt to touch the sky with his straining and completely exposed erection. "Please."
"Not yet." Warm, wet air blows across his lower abdomen with the whispered words and he swears he feels tears creeping from below his eyelids because this is practically torture.
The pressure on his nipple increases and he loses control with the shockwaves that rock his body at the sensation. It's too much but not enough at the same time and he groans because he knows he can't take anymore but Zuko only blows a warm trail of fire heated breath along the contours of his stomach, causing his muscles to heave and clench.
"You're so beautiful, Sokka. I need you."
He almost swears that Zuko sounds like he means it and he decides then that he'll die if this continues on any longer. A breeze sweeps over them both, causing long strands of black hair to sway against his skin as he feels hot lips press firmly against his navel and it tickles at the same time that it inexplicably makes him cry out.
Sokka's breath grows ragged and he finds himself distracted by the only contact from the firebender that hasn't been tantalizingly distant as Zuko's lips leave a moist trail that turns his skin to gooseflesh as soon they leave it. He doesn't quite notice the single finger that's daringly tracing a lazy pattern in the air just a hair's breadth away from his aching shaft until he feels just the edge of a fingernail against the sensitive skin and his chest heaves as Zuko slowly drags it up the length.
He nearly screams with frustration and rakes his own fingernails through the dust coating the cold stone against his back.
He gasps, eyes shooting open as the touch suddenly stops, "No, please!"
Zuko's lips reluctantly leave the sweet taste of Sokka's skin behind as he releases the nipple he's still been lightly fondling and his blazing golden eyes meet Sokka's icy blue ones. Sokka can't tell the difference between the malice that he's always seen there and the uncertain almost vulnerable compassion he thinks he sees now but he's far past caring. He's all too aware of the simmering air so near to his throbbing erection, that Zuko's bending the air, and all he can think about is how much he wants that heat to surround him instead of just hovering there.
His arms are pinned uncomfortably beneath his back, supporting his awkward bridged body, but he manages to free a hand without collapsing though his thighs are angrily threatening to give out and he fists it roughly in the loose cloth of Zuko's pants, the pained and lusty look in his eyes forcing the formerly haughty firebender to startle and falter.
"Please." He closes his eyes again and tries to pretend that he isn't begging pathetically for release from his former enemy but then the cloth in his fist is ripped away roughly and the air around him grows almost frigid within seconds. His heart stops in fear that Zuko's had enough of him and left him alone to suffer without proper release and if that's the case then he's probably royally fucked everything else up too, the gaang, Aang's firebending, ever finding his dad, winning the war…
His muscles begin to sing with pain and he reluctantly begins to lower his hips to the ground as a sad sigh slips past his lips.
And as suddenly as the heat was gone it's back and tenfold and he bites his lip so hard that it bleeds. He can't stifle the moan that's so loud and broken that it's more of a wail and he doesn't try. If he thought he was going to die before then now he's quite sure that he's dead because this is bliss. This is pleasure like he's never experienced and, he thinks, if he's not dead yet then surely whatever comes next will kill him because he can't imagine surviving such an onslaught of pure feeling.
He's being engulfed by something gloriously hot and wet and he doesn't quite have the faculties handy to register that it's a mouth. All he can do is thrust upwards into the heat and give himself up to the building pressure low in his belly.
His moans echo off the stone walls and create a symphony of voices around him, reduced to the most primitive of speech patterns. He doesn't know how it thrills the boy kneeling between his thighs to hear these noises and he wouldn't believe it even if he did.
The tip of Zuko's tongue pressures the underside of his swollen erection and swirls around the head, digging into the tiny slit at the top and tasting the pre cum that's been waiting for him there ever since he first laid the tribesman down. Sokka shudders beneath him and thrusts madly, trying to push himself even further into the heat.
"Zuko…" There's not enough timbre in the breath to even classify the utterance as speech as it passes Sokka's lips but Zuko hears it as he's trying vainly to touch his own lips to the base of the shaft in his mouth and he accidentally swallows against the butterflies that suddenly erupt in his stomach. It's enough to send Sokka soaring over the edge, any inhibitions completely forgotten as he screams with his orgasm.
"Zuko!"
Zuko gags at Sokka's release and pulls away but not before he catches an uncomfortable amount in his mouth. He admires the contrast of the thick white liquid against the silky tan skin of Sokka's stomach as the rest of his eruption lands there, before turning his head to the side and spitting his mouthful onto the ground.
Sokka's legs finally give and he collapses into a panting heap of quivering limbs.
"Beautiful." Zuko whispers before crawling over the trembling tribesman and softly caressing his cheek. Pale lips meet tan in a tender kiss, allowing Sokka to taste himself on Zuko's skin. He returns the kiss fully, unable to muster the energy to doubt Zuko's sincerity and he realizes, somewhat dazedly, that somehow he doesn't feel the need to anymore.
Ehh writing in the present tense is weird.