Morning After
AN: So after reviewers begged me to continue, I decided to see where this would go. Here's the next installment. Sorry that there's not much smut in this scene, but it's build-up for much fanservice later, promise!
Aang feigned sickness again that morning. Katara came by and sat on his bed. He curled up under the covers and pretended to sleep. His stomach felt like it was rotting from the inside. There were knots all over his insides and he felt like he was going to throw up.
"Do you need anything, Aang?" she asked. She was using her motherly voice, full of concern.
He didn't say anything. He hoped that if he stayed silent long enough, she would just take him to be sleeping and leave.
"Aang," she said, a little louder.
No such luck. He pretended to be roused and opened one eye lazily.
She smiled at him, holding out a steaming cup. "I brought you some tea."
Aang pushed himself up and took it. "Thanks, Katara."
She smiled again. "I hope you get better, Aang." She twisted a loop of her hair with a finger, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
Aang thought of Zuko, how he had sat on the bed with his elbows on his knees, slumped forward, how his hair covered his eyes and how he had chuckled a little. His breathy voice. Zuko, thrusting up and down into his own hand. Zuko, stroking Aang, biting his neck, moaning into his shoulder.
"Aang!"
He shook himself. Katara was staring at him, wide-eyed, backing away from him like he had suddenly turned into Ozai.
"What?"
Katara pointed a shaky finger at his crotch. Aang looked down. The sheets had been pushed off when he sat up to take the tea. A large bulge was clearly visible under his pants.
Aang jumped and tried to cover himself up. The tea flew out of his hands and all over the sheets.
Katara was up on her feet. She turned and ran, the curtains swinging wildly behind her.
"Oh, man!" Aang said. He held his head in his hands. Why did this keep happening to him? Now Katara hated him. And Zuko definitely hated him. How many people was he going to lose because of his problem?
Something had to be done. He had to ask somebody. And it definitely wasn't going to be Zuko. He waited in bed and listened to the others outside. When Katara and Toph said that they were going to go practice their bending, he leapt up and snuck outside.
Aang hid behind a column and peaked out to the clearing near the fountain where they usually ate their meals. Katara was gone, and Zuko was nowhere to be seen.
"Pssst," Aang called. "Sokka!"
Sokka looked up from scratching his back with his boomerang.
"Sokka!" Aang motioned for him to come over.
Sokka stood up and followed Aang back to his bedroom. Aang sunk into his bed. Sokka stood there with his head tilted, looking nonplussed.
"What's with the secrecy?" Sokka asked.
Aang put his head in his hands. How was he going to even say this?
"There's something wrong with me," Aang said finally. He sighed. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.
Sokka folded his arms. "What's wrong with you?"
Aang tried to form the words in his mind.
"If you don't tell me, Aang, there's no way I can help you."
"I—I think it's a guy thing."
Sokka uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. "Is it about"—he looked around, and whispered—"girls?"
Aang shook his head. How was he going to say this? His face was already burning with humiliation.
"Come on, Aang. Out with it. The great Sokka is listening."
"I get this—this…uh…problem. You know—when—when I wake up in the morning."
"Problem?" Sokka looked confused, but then his face lit up. "Oh! You mean a problem." He looked pointedly at Aang's pants.
Aang looked down, worried, but thankfully his pants were still loose and it wasn't there. He nodded heavily and buried his face further in his hands.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Sokka said. He nodded sagely. "All guys get it now and again."
"Yeah, but I get it—you know—when I think of…someone."
Sokka blushed and held up his hands. "Well, yeah, that'll happen. But you know, I don't think I want to hear about you and my sister."
"Katara?"
Now Aang was really confused. What did Katara have to do with anything? Sokka must have picked up on the look that Aang had because he dropped his hands and sat down on the bed.
"Aang, didn't the monks teach you about this?"
Aang shook his head. Nothing like this had ever come up.
"That settles it then. You my friend are in desperate need of"—dramatic pause—"sex ed!"
Something in Sokka's tone of voice made Aang think he should never have asked. But he was curious.
"You see, Aang, when a man and a woman love each other," Sokka said, getting up to pace the room with his hands clasped behind his back, "they sometimes want to get naked and touch each other."
"WHA—?"
"But they shouldn't." Sokka gave him a stern look. "Especially if they're not old enough and the woman happens to have an older brother with a boomerang that could crack your head open!"
"But I don't—"
"Don't interrupt Aang." Sokka continued to pace. "When you become a man, you can get married and then you two can do anything you want. But until then…"
"I don't want to get naked with Katara."
Sokka stopped walking. His brows were furrowed. "What?"
Aang wondered if he should reply. His curiosity and desire to save himself from Sokka's wrath won over humiliation of admitting to him what happened.
"I don't think about Katara when I get my—problem."
"You don't?"
"No, I—nevermind. I just need to think."
Sokka took a step toward him and pointed at his chest. "You better think and figure this out. Because if you hurt my sister, I won't hold back because you're my friend." Sokka turned to leave.
"So…so I'm supposed to get my problem when I think about Katara?"
Sokka sighed. "It's called an erection, Aang. You need it to have sex." He crossed his arms and turned toward the door, but he didn't take a step. "Who do you think about?"
Aang held up his hands, willing Sokka to calm down. "No one," he said in what he hoped was his most calm and mature voice. "Where's Zuko?"
Sokka looked confused but said, "I haven't seen him yet today. Why?"
"Oh, no reason. I just need to talk to him."