Author's Note: A little look into the friendship between our beloved Fire Lord and Waterbender. Plus, bath time?


"Good evening, Katara."

So, this was happening.

The wind blew faintly through the window, and a whirring sound rushed between the waterbender and the Fire Lord. Other than that and the ruffles of her feet against the satin bedsheets, the silence loomed over the scene. Momentarily, the smirk on Katara's face dropped; Zuko had yet to say anything, to move even, and his face had fallen flat. The only thing that stopped her from covering herself in shame and embarrassment was the light flush that had crept upon the Fire Lord's chest. Other than that, he was blank.

Zuko had grown accustomed to keeping a poker face in stressful situations. Once, during a meeting with the other heads of nations, a wood frog had found its way through a parted door and leaped down the center table, disorganizing stacks of important government policy papers. It took everything in Zuko's power not to burst out in laughter.

So it had come in handy after all. Except this time around, the Fire Lord had no interest in laughing. The underside of his thumb came to rest upon his chin as he titled his eyes downwards, the single eyebrow lowering. With his other hand, he shuffled the robes falling down one arm. His jaw had tightened as he provided the same face he used throughout most of his meetings Interested, but somewhat skeptical in its look, he kept Katara in a staring match for a second longer, before she broke the sexy act and cracked a smile.

"The bath in my guest suite is broken. Can I just use yours?" She folded her legs under the nightgown, bent them so that only a bit of thigh was exposed, the upper part not its usual deep caramel due to the hue of gold. With a humph, she lifted herself from the bed, placing one foot at a time on his floor, as if to cautiously make sure she wouldn't disturb anyone.

He dropped his glare, a smirk breaking onto his face as he exposed a bit of teeth. Bringing a hand behind his neck, he reasoned with her, "And you couldn't just use the boy's suite bathroom?"

"Ah, come on, Fire Lord," she rolled her eyes, teasing him with a pointed tongue. "We miss you over here. You know the five of us don't even sleep in those huge rooms? We share the beds."

"What else could I expect? My best friends." Grinning as they met besides his bed, he realized that even now, when she was almost seventeen, he towered over her. It was funny. The blue eyes had stayed the same, her mother's necklace, the way she drew her hair backwards, but certain things had changed. Now, where snow or smooth skin may have laid, sun freckles resided on each cheek, and the former roundness of her face had disappeared. Her ears were pierced, and her collarbones protruded with each movement.

Beautiful, he thought.

She, on the other hand, hadn't taken in his beauty until that very moment, it seemed. In the candlelit room, a hint of moonlight coming from the barrel drawn curtains, she inspected him. The way his scar twitched with each facial movement, and the smoothness of his lips (he'd finally found time to moisturize them…or rather, found a servant to do it for him). If she hadn't taken an extra second to look, she would have never noticed the paleness of his jaw, despite the few hairs that grew from it, or the way the bump in his throat jumped each time he laughed. What was most familiar, shockingly, was the hair. Still rugged and shaggy as it had been when she'd first known him, even when it was up in its topknot.

There they'd stood, for a minute now, and stared at the grooves of each other's skin, before he cleared his throat and she'd shaken her head. "Which way's the bathroom?"

He pointed, but she yanked his hand, and steadily dragged him over with her. From the tap came a squeak as he turned it open, allowing her to adjust the temperature to her liking before plugging the drain. Content, she made her way over to the sink and poked lazily at the tidbits he kept there.

"You know," Zuko started, taking the spot on top of his closed toilet lid, "we never did finish that conversation we were having earlier."

"The one about The Dragon of the West? It was fun. Sokka fell asleep, but I'd totally see it again. Let's go next weekend."

"No, no, not that one…though now that I think about it, I'd love to go. I was talking about the political one," he spun around slightly on his seat.

"Right," she pried open a red canister to reveal his hair gel, and brought it to her nose to sniff. When she returned it to its space, she proceeded to face the large, singular mirror that spanned the wall, and imagined how it would feel to ready herself in the morning in this way. The way, she assumed, the Fire Lord did. "All I was meaning to say was that I thoroughly believe, since the Southern Water Tribe is deemed underdeveloped, we will never be seen as an equal to the Earth Kingdom or the Fire Nation. Politically, that is."

"I wouldn't say 'never,'" she peered upwards at him in the mirror, and he met her eyes steely eyes with a shiver. "I don't mean it like that. I mean that, unfortunately, I agree. It's been systematically forced on our people to believe that your people are…"

"Peasants? Savages?" Katara's eyes dropped back to the sink.

"Again, unfortunately, yes. I don't agree, of course."

"Took you long enough," she teased, recalling the names he used to taunt her with. "Isn't that right?"

"Ha-ha," scoffing, he dusted himself from where he previously sat and walked towards her, knocking an empty pill container from her hands, "I still can't apologize enough for that."

"No need to, Zuzu," her hips bumped firmly into his. "Though I hope one day the Water Tribe will be viewed as equals, I know we still have a lot of rebuilding to do." She sighed, before widening her eyes. "Hey! This is my comb! You've been using my comb!"

Zuko blushed, and chuckled nervously, "No way! That must've just gotten mixed up in there."

"Yea, sure, sure," she tapped him on the head with it. "That's so unhygienic! What if I had lice?"

"You really are neurotic," snatching the comb from her grip, he motioned it towards the tub. "And your bath is ready."

Almost every part of his body urged him to stay, to simply throw caution to the wind and wait for her to unrobe and dip in the water. But another part, a part buried deep inside of him, the same part that thanked servants and helpers though he knew it was not traditional, the part that his mother had instilled in him, knew it was time for him to leave. And so, on his heel he turned, almost out the door when-

"Zuko, look!" Katara grinned, and, if he had to describe it, almost giggled. A mountain of bubbles was forming just beyond where she stood, her back to him, undressing slowly. The tangles of her heavy curls coiled down her back, seemingly massaging the deep indent of her spine. While she brushed the arms of the nightgown off her shoulder, his eyes traced the way it plummeted, only to bounce around the curve of her hips. Just above her barely revealed panties were two dimples on her lower back, where he imagined placing his fingers as he held her. But that image was cut short as the nightgown dropped fully, and she bent downwards after hooking her underwear and tugging them off slowly. All Zuko could see was her shapely backside, and the heart the upper part of her thighs formed, before she placed one foot into the water at a time, with the same caution she had used before.

All the while, Zuko stood, dumbfound and babbling about bubbles and soap, before he decided silence was the best environment to admire in. Now, though, he was stuck in some kind of neutral realm, unknowing of what move to make next. Carefully, he too removed the heaviest of his robe layers. Not to undress, but mostly to allow himself some space to breathe as heavily as he urgently felt he must. Yet with his lack of robes came, of course, the problem of hiding his arousal.

This would become a very particular problem especially when Katara, without looking back at him, asked if he could wash her back for her.

With a deep breath, Zuko grabbed the body wash from the counter and made his way over to the tub. He dragged a stool from the far wall over to her side, careful not to stare too long at the body beneath the water. Slowly, he positioned himself, and squeezed a portion of soap into his hands before rubbing them together and bowing slightly towards her.

Hesitantly, she dragged her long locks over to the shoulder farthest from him, which gave him access to the smooth, brown skin of her back. Careful not to move too quickly, the Fire Lord allowed the suds to slide down her back before beginning to massage them into her.

"Zuko," she moaned quietly. The same moan he had heard not hours before in the guest bedroom. He felt his erection stiffen against his thigh, and saw his robes shift. The pale skin of his legs began to shiver with each feeling of her slick skin. "Around my neck."

The Fire Lord shifted from his seat and rested one knee on the tile floor, a position he had not practiced for almost two years now, as any stance of submission was deemed a dishonor. However, he had a strong feelings his ancestors would be giving him a pat on the back for being able to handle a moment as intricate as this one.

Katara, on the other hand, had tilted her head backwards against the tub, her breast coming dangerously close to lifting out of the water, as his hands caressed below her ears and the underside of her neck before dropping to her collar bones.

"Lower," breathing out her demand, Zuko almost toppled over.

"Uhm, say that again," he requested, and felt his voice shake. His skin had become hot and flushed from the warm water, but also from the positioning of her body, delicately resting, her eyes hooded shut and lips parted slightly, her breathing coming slowly and deep. This was how he had always imagined she would look, if he ever had the chance to-

He almost smacked himself for thinking about this now, out of all times, when his cock was so strained under his robes he felt the pulsing in his feet as much as in his chest.

Again, she breathed out, and he admired the way her collar bones responded to her sigh, "Lower, Zuko."

So, with certainty this time, the Fire Lord moved his hands lower, to the upper part of her breast. Lower again, to where his hands dipped below the water, the suds washing away, and the feeling of the swell of her breast became clear. And lower one more time, to where the her nipples brushed against his palm, and he let out the growl he had kept between gritted teeth for the past half hour.

"Fuck," he bit back, wet tongue between teeth, eyes shutting intensely. "Katara."

But she said nothing, only bucked her breasts upwards, further into his hands, where he felt himself cupping them softly, afraid to grab too roughly. In his fantasy, his nails would be scratching her, his teeth on her hardened nipples, sucking and pulling as she writhed around him. Instead, he was confined to simply holding them, massaging them in the same way he had done her back, and feeling the squishiness of the way her breasts seemed to mold around his fingers like clay, compared to the prominent nipples that he rolled between his middle and ring fingers.

His lip began to bleed from where his teeth dug into it, and the space between his eyes grew tight, but the place he felt the most pain was between his legs. His arousal was stiff and hot, continuously pressing against the tub or his leg and bringing him back to the harsh reality of the situation. Neither had moved for a long time before he caved, bringing his hand out of the water and up to cup her cheeks, delving into her as their warm, smooth lips met for the first, much sought after kiss. Her hands were warm on the back of his neck, and his wet in the tussle of her hair.

Before he could bother to attempt to slip his tongue against her bottom lip, however, she pulled away quickly.


Author's Note: Sorry to leave you on another cliff hanger, especially when it's been way too long since I last updated. The story is starting to get good :)