Zutara Week: Day 1

Prompt: denim

Sometimes, Zuko began to wonder if Toph was getting to Katara. It would make sense, right?

The blind teen just must really, really like to ruin his life. Sometimes he wasn't quite sure why Sokka even kept her around.

Then again, it didn't really make sense, this. This thing called love. If love was ever logical, he would have fallen for Mai. He'd still be engaged in a marriage he didn't want, and never in this paint-splattered room, her art studio--and now the scene of a recent wrestling much.

Zuko also tended to wonder why he even bothered. With life, with love...with so many things.

If he was honest with himself, it all came down to Katara. Technically speaking, he supposed she was the light of his life.

Technically speaking.

But that didn't really apply when she was sitting on top of him.

Sighing, Zuko stared up at Katara's sea-blue eyes, deep enough to drown in, as she bent down over him, legs spread around his torso.

Honestly, this whole asserting of dominance thing was kinda freaking him out. And not only because Zuko feared yet another Azula-figure in his life, but this time in the form of his sort-of girlfriend.

"I suppose you thought you'd win," she said confidently, holding him down as best she could--which was actually quite well. Katara didn't study martial arts for nothing.

Zuko shifted, uncomfortably aware of the friction as denim brushed denim and hips rubbed together. "No," he admitted. "Not really."

Katara smirked down at him. He blinked back at her with liquid amber eyes.

"Ha. So you admit it--I win," she said proudly.

Glaring in return, Zuko eyed her suspiciously tight jeans with a hint of appreciation. "Sometimes," he muttered under his breath, "I wonder."

"You'll be a good boy, won't you? Stay where you are until I'm done," Katara asked, blue eyes gleaming. Zuko gulped. Sometimes she could be scarier than Azula, his father, and Toph on PMS all rolled into one.

He also tried desperately to ignore the implications behind her words.

"No," Zuko said, exasperated, "I don't mind, really."

"Good, because--" she glanced at him, eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?" Katara accused of a newly invigorated Zuko. She tried to ignore the twist in her stomach as she watched the shag of black hair fall across Zuko's face, his eyes perfectly aligned with her own.

Prying his hand away from Katara's iron grip, he slid his hand into the pocket of her jeans, and smirked. She flushed in return.

Because the truth was, Zuko didn't mind.

Really.

a/n: please forgive me; it's quick and easy but all i could wip up given the late posting date...!