A/N: Modern AU requested by Gwynyx on tumblr.
Warnings: implied sex
Thanks for reading.
SUNSPOT
The beach has never really been their scene. They're not ones for playing in the water or building sandcastles. But there'd been quite a bit of begging and nagging—a pitiful amount, really—and here they are again: sand beneath their toes, and endless blue in front of them.
They arrive thirty minutes late, and everyone else beams because thirty minutes is record time.
Toph throws them sandwiches—appropriately called so—and Zuko brushes off a plentiful dusting of sand before cautiously taking a bite. He offers some to Mai, who refuses it with a frown.
Everyone scarfs down their food, and whips off their clothes as fast as possible: eager to hit the waves. A pair of shorts lands in between them, and Mai goes rigid. Zuko takes a keen interest in a particularly fluffy cloud off to the right, tactically away from the flurry of clothes.
"Get ready to have the time of your lives," Sokka says, throwing his arms around the pair.
"I'm absolutely giddy with excitement," Mai replies, slipping away to grab their things from the car.
Sokka shrugs and skips away, dragging a protesting Suki along with him. They're the first ones at the water's edge, and a friendly shove from Suki ensures that Sokka is the first one in the water. The splash, and his indignant shrieks, startle a group of nearby pigeon-gulls.
Wiping the sheen of sweat from his brow, Zuko has half the mind to tear off his clothes and jump in too. His hands linger at the hem of his shirt when Aang tugs off his own shirt and gives Zuko a hard look.
"You've got something right here," he says, indicating the location with a finger to his neck before running to the water to join the others.
Zuko's brow furrows and his hand rubs the skin at his throat in confusion.
And he freezes.
His eyes grow wide and the events of last night flash through his mind. The color drains from his face, and then a burning red fills him again, starting from his neck, and snaking its way to his cheeks and ears. He turns ever so slowly to Mai, setting up the towel and umbrella.
"No," he manages. "You didn't."
She straightens up, shooting him a quizzical look. He sucks in a breath, hesitantly taking his hand away from his neck, regarding it as if it were covered in blood.
Mai rolls her eyes.
"Oh. That."
"But I asked you not to!"
She scoffs.
"Funny, Zuko," she opens her book and sits down, "I think we both remember that you were asking quite the contrary last night."
He has no retort, grumbling as he rummages through their bag for a hoodie. He throws it on, zipping it all the way up and pulling the hood over his head, taking a seat on the opposite edge of the towel with an audible "hmph."
He replays last night, trying to determine who's at fault for initiating the pleasant, yet regretfully unfortunate, series of events. His mood darkens, because while Mai had pulled him in for the first kiss, he'd been the one to cook dinner and call for takeout when it was deemed inedible. He was the one who'd slathered himself in cologne, and he was the one who looked up those one-liners on the internet earlier that day. He'd also been the most...encouraging of such acts.
Zuko suppresses a groan. All roads lead back to him.
"Can you pass the water?" Mai finally asks.
Zuko doesn't answer and she sighs, grabbing it herself.
"Please," she says, "this isn't any worse than the time my parents surprised us with a visit and you answered the door in your boxers, with—mind you—one of those."
"That's different," he counters. "These are our friends. That makes it worse."
"Really?" she challenges, an eyebrow arched. "And what about the last time my parents visited? They were unfortunate enough to encounter those very same boxers in between our couch cushions."
They both cringe.
Zuko turns away, pulling the drawstring of his hoodie tighter, mumbling about how they agreed that they'd never speak about that again.
Triumphant, Mai returns to her reading.
. . .
"Hey," Katara smiles as she wrings out her hair. Mai pulls back her toes to avoid getting wet, and Katara giggles, quickly apologizing. "Are you guys coming in?" she asks.
"I'd prefer to stay dry," Mai replies.
"Then how 'bout a walk along the beach?"
Zuko declines with a grumble.
Katara's eyes fall on him, and then back to Mai, who only shrugs.
"Why are you wearing a hoodie?" Katara ventures.
"It's cold."
"But we're at the beach. And you're a firebender."
"You're a waterbender. You still get thirsty."
Katara opens her mouth to say something, but abandons whatever it is after a moment's thought.
"Mai?" she asks instead.
From the other side of the towel, Mai sighs, closing her book and rising to her feet.
"Better than sitting here with this dud."
She doesn't look back.
It's impossible to ignore her slender curves, and he can instantly identify where his hands fell on her waist when they'd decided to abandon their takeout, and make for the couch for some proper entertainment. Zuko inwardly curses, pardoning last night's pick up line, and instead blaming his current misfortune on the way her hips sway as she walks away.
. . .
He's gone nowhere near the water, but his back is drenched. Two emptied water bottles lay beside him. The preservation of one's pride is sweaty work.
In truth, he's not troubled by the existence of the mark on his neck, rather, he's bothered by the unfortunate timing of its stay—and any issue he's taken with that has faded as well. In all truth, he's adamant to remain cross until she acknowledges him. Though, by the look of things, that could take a while.
She and Katara are two specks down the beach. Distance makes eavesdropping impossible, and even if that were not the case, the others are just too loud. Suki's laughter rises above the sound of the waves as she watches Sokka's hopeless attempts to build a sandcastle as Toph and Aang bend away the sand, sniggering as his miniature towers fall.
Sweat from his brow drips into his eyes, and Zuko peels off his hoodie just as Aang runs up.
"Hotman," he says, reapplying sunscreen to his head.
Zuko frowns and takes a keen interest in the divots in the sand.
When he turns back, Aang leans over him, eyeing him carefully.
Zuko scrambles back, covering his throat.
"That thing is still on you. What is it?"
"An allergic reaction," he mumbles.
"What are you allergic to? Is it mayonnaise? Because earlier, when you asked if there was any mayo in your sandwich, I told you that there wasn't any but there may have been just a little..."
"Maybe I'm allergic to you," Zuko says with a glare.
Aang returns it with a sheepish grin.
"Hotman," he waves before returning to the others.
With an irritated grunt, Zuko throws his hoodie back on.
. . .
They have him light the fire, and someone breaks out stuff for smores. In a strategic attempt to ditch the hood, he sits with his bad side to Toph. Aang is eager to wiggle between them, curiosity knitting together his brow as he repeatedly pokes Zuko.
The hood goes back up.
Across from him, Mai appears uninterested in the general conversation. Aang roasts two marshmallows—one for him and one for Toph, who, after the last bonfire, is no longer allowed to roast her own. Suki tells a story, which Zuko supposes is quite funny, because everyone else is laughing.
He's too preoccupied to be listening, devoting all of his attention and energy to looking visibly irritated.
It doesn't seem to work. She's absolutely infuriating. Politely smiling when the two girls on either side of her throw their arms around her as they double over in laughter, sipping her drink as if she were at a gala and not a bonfire, he glares at her and she ignores him completely.
"Hey," Aang whispers, poking at Zuko's hoodie, "so how's that thing?'
"Your marshmallows are burning."
Aang quickly blows them out, sticking them in Toph's outreached hands before turning back to Zuko. She yelps and the marshmallows fall to the ground.
"You should get that checked out."
"I'm fine."
"Because allergic reactions can be serious. One time, I—"
"Just leave me alone!" Zuko snaps, shoving him off.
"What is going on?" someone asks.
"Nothing."
"Zuko has a funky rash on his neck!"
Sokka jumps to his feet.
"I," says Sokka, "will be the judge of this 'funky.'"
Dutifully, he walks over, ceremoniously pulling down the collar of Zuko's hoodie.
"It could be an allergic reaction, or," Sokka says, avoiding Zuko's attempts to bat him away, "...it could be pentapox!"
The rest of the group remains unconvinced, the fire illuminates blank stares. Zuko pulls his hood over his head, mortification staining his cheeks a bright red.
"Weren't you the one who made pentapox up?" Suki asks.
"No, that was Katara. And it could still exist!"
Aang shakes his head.
"The pattern for pentapox is different. And these are all purple-ish."
Across from him, Mai glances up. Something crosses her face, and in a fleeting moment, it's gone and she returns to picking her nails. Katara and Suki share a knowing look, and Zuko retreats as far back into his hood as he can possibly go.
Toph laughs.
"Ok, I know for a fact that Zuko isn't allergic to Mai."
Aang stares at her, baffled.
"Huh?"
Sokka's jaw drops.
That's a—" his finger points from Zuko to Mai, connecting the dots. "And you?!"
Mai yawns.
"Guilty."
Marshmallows and graham crackers lay forgotten in the sand. The girls laugh louder, and the fire burns brighter, along with the red of Zuko's cheeks.
"Wait, guys, I don't get it!" Aang says.
"I don't see what all the fuss is about," Mai sighs, "It's no secret that we kiss."
Sokka shakes himself from a daze, sputtering.
"Yeah, but this is, like, physical evidence on Zuko's neck!"
"Alright, we get it already," says Zuko through clenched teeth. "Can we move on now?"
"Will someone please explain what's going on?!"
. . .
The entire car ride home, no one says a word. Mai holds her tongue for amusement, and Zuko holds his in vexation, though the silent treatment isn't very effective when it's directed at someone silent. Zuko's frustration only grows. And so it's at each sigh, and every yawn that he makes sure to look his haughtiest, jutting his chin in the air and crossing his arms tighter across his chest.
Mai gives no reaction, and she nods off about halfway through. The silent treatment also proves ineffective when aimed at someone sleeping. When they pull up, she stretches out, drawing out her yawn in the most taunting of ways.
He has half the mind to give up.
Frowning is tiring, and after fumbling with the lock, he immediately slumps down on the couch.
He does his best to ignore her when she sits down beside him, paying no attention to how she stares at him so expectantly, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"You're not still holding that grudge, are you?" she says. He can hear the smirk on her voice. "Stop pouting."
The smell of salt sticks to her skin, and faint traces of her perfume linger in her hair. He turns away because he's supposed to be angry and she's not making it easy.
Mai slides onto his lap, tracing the mark on his neck. "Have I done your pride irreparable damage?" she does nothing to hide her mocking tone, nothing to cover up the smirk on her lips.
"No," Zuko grumbles back.
With a finger, she tilts his chin up for a kiss, and what little resolve he has crumbles. When her lips touch his, Zuko's mind goes entirely white. For a moment, he forgets who he is, unable to remember his very name. He can't recall today, or yesterday, or the day before that. Impossibly soft lips, and warmth in the pit of his stomach are the only things that register.
And they're back to where it always begins: her nails carving into his scalp, and his hands traveling up her torso. They're pressed together tightly, movements heated with an urgency he cannot name.
His sense of being is lost, and he's drowning in her soft lips on his jaw, her tongue trailing down his skin. He groans as her teeth graze the area where neck meets shoulder, her lips sucking and pulling...
His eyes fly open and he pulls away, stunned. "Wait! No!" he cups his neck in shock. She looks at him, her eyes gleaming and her brow raised as she wipes her mouth with a finger. "You just...Dammit, Mai!"
They're swift movements: he pivots their position and pins her to the couch. He attacks her, licking and kissing just below her jaw. The sweet satisfaction of revenge just begins to set in when he feels the vibrations of her low, rasping laugh.
"Zuko," Mai gasps, "that's not how you do it. You're just getting slobber all over my neck."
He frowns and she looks rather smug.
He has no earthly idea how she does it, but she anchors herself to him with her legs round his waist, flipping them over while still managing to keep the both of them on the couch.
"Lucky for you," she says, leaning back down, her teeth grazing the curve of his ear before kissing him again, "I'm willingly to let you practice."
-FIN-