You have Lia (chromeknickers) to thank for this latest ficlet. I was all for angst, but she opted for something more light-hearted. Since I'm not one to deny a lady, I present to you what is probably going to be one of many shirtless!Zuko scenes. Enjoy!

Sifu Hotman

Katara didn't think she was ever going to get used to the sticky heat of the Fire Nation. It clung to her skin like an invisible jump suit, making her feel as if she were wearing a second layer of clothing regardless of how little material was actually covering her body. That was why she was dressed in only her white wrappings and blue robe, and why she was staring enviously at the young Avatar who was currently training sans shirt.

Males. They had it so easy. No one cared if they wandered around bare-chested, but if she tried to do that she'd be stuck with a bunch of blushing, spluttering boys and probably a homicidal older brother to boot. It was so frustrating, and—and—

"Oh," Katara breathed, momentarily distracted.

The second jerkbender—as Sokka liked to call anyone who manipulated fire—had just removed his tunic with an impatient tug of his hand and was now taking up a fighting stance, clearly intending to join his pupil. Katara heard the material hit the ground with a soft thwack, but her attention remained riveted on that expanse of bared male flesh. That lean, undeniably male flesh. For some reason, the effect was rather different to what she had experienced while watching Aang.

A light blush stole to her cheeks and, almost helplessly, she found herself following the strong curve of Zuko's shoulders, tracing the sinewy muscle down to the flat planes of his chest. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, and she bit down on her bottom lip as she allowed her gaze to drop even further, tracking the path of a single droplet as it caressed the defined ridges of his abdomen and then slipped lower and lower until it was lost in the waistband of his pants.

Katara let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding, conscious of the heat slowly creeping its way through her body and forming burning strings that reached deep within her core. She told herself it was just the climate—that the sun was getting to her—yet she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the Firebender, mesmerised by the way his lithe form rose and fell as he manipulated the fire that swirled around him. He was like a blade; his body honed to perfection, so sharp and deadly, but still so graceful as he swept through the stanzas. Every thrust made her breath come a little bit faster, and she shifted uncomfortably, squeezing her thighs together as she watched his muscles tighten and ripple with each punch and kick, each flash of fire.

No, she decided. Watching Aang train had definitely not been like this.

Zuko crouched into a new form, springing upwards into a kick that burst with flames. Her heart thudded against her ribs and she dug her fingers into the dirt, slowly raising her eyes to his face. His black hair hung loose and half-veiled his features, but when he moved she would catch a glimpse of gold irises and the red scar that skewed the left side of his countenance. On anyone else the disfigurement might have damaged his looks beyond repair, but on Zuko it just seemed to fit. Without the mark she thought he'd be almost too handsome—even painfully so—to the point where the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his well-defined jaw would pierce rather than appease. Yet when he turned to face her, hitting her with the full force of that unique combination of masculine beauty and ugliness, she still found herself breathless. Embarrassingly so.

Gold locked with blue, and she once more took her bottom lip between her teeth as she felt the burning strings within her pull taut, ignited by the fire of his own carefully directed movements. Nothing else existed for her in that moment; nothing but the fragmented sound of her breathing, the rapid throbbing of her pulse, and the heat—that exquisite yet unbearable heat.

And it was all coming from him.

"Are you okay, Katara?"

Katara blinked and turned her head to see Aang staring at her in some concern as he stood half-crouched in a Firebending pose. She had almost forgot he was there.

"Huh?" she said, still feeling a little dazed.

Aang rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, it's just ... you look, uh, flushed."

Warmth blossomed on her cheeks, darkening the already pink tones to a rich plum. "It's only because of the heat!"

"I-I know," he stammered, taken aback by the vehemence of her response. "I was just—"

"You just what?" she snapped, standing up and planting her hands on her hips. "Just what are you accusing me of?"

"N-nothing. I just—"

"That's right!" she interjected. "Nothing! Because there is absolutely nothing wrong with looking flushed when it's so hot and—and—" She suddenly rounded on Zuko, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. "And would you please put a damn shirt on!"

Zuko's brow creased in confusion. "What?"

Katara froze as she realised what she had just said. "Nothing," she squeaked. "Please, carry on with your bending."

Cheeks burning with shame, she turned abruptly on the spot and marched back towards the house before they could ask her anything else. Zuko and Aang exchanged puzzled glances.

"That was weird," Aang said.

"Definitely," Zuko agreed.

Katara simply thumped her head against the wall. That was the last time she watched Zuko bend shirtless.

What? You really think I'd write a fic that is essentially a euphemism for sex. Please, it's just Firebending. ^_~