Chapter Ten~

Zuko had always thought the expression 'walking on air' was stupid. But that day with Jet he felt like he was flying. His steps were light, he had butterflies in his stomach, and everything looked bright and sunny. He'd be damned if he let Jet know how crazy he was feeling – but he could barely hide it. Every time he looked at the other boy he felt ridiculously happy. Jet would grin at him and he couldn't stop his own smile from forming.

They left the park and wandered into the shopping district where they milled through a bookstore, compared the ugliest CD covers they could find at the music store, and stared in awe (or for Zuko, horror) at a mountainous display of Hello Kitty.

"I can think of so many people who would love this." Jet said sarcastically as he straightened the dress of a plushy.

"Toph?" Zuko smiled as Jet laughed.

"And Smellerbee."

"She does seem the Hello Kitty type."

Jet laughed again.

Strangely Zuko found that he and Jet were acting almost the same as they usually did, except that they were continuously touching one another. Inside stores, when they showed things to one another, they would lean closer than was necessary. Outside in the cold they walked shoulder to shoulder, holding hands and ignoring the occasional judgmental glance from passersby.

Zuko reluctantly agreed to go clothes shopping – mainly because he hadn't dressed for the weather (as usual) and was beginning to feel that Jet's warmth was the only thing standing between him and frostbite (for about one minute Zuko let Jet unzip his jacket so he could be Zuko's human coat, tucking Zuko under his chin with warm arms around him – but as embarrassingly happy as he was feeling there was a limit to what Zuko's pride would allow).

They entered a shop with fashionably disturbing manikins poised in its windows. Jet out a soft 'oh' as he saw something interesting, then pulled Zuko over to a pair of skinny jeans. He pulled the pants down from the wall hanging and turned to Zuko. "No," Zuko said before the boy could ask.

"But they would accentuate your hind features!" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Wha—"

"You think I saw nothing in the locker room?"

Zuko blushed a furious red and Jet laughed. "Be proud you have a nice ass."

Zuko couldn't go any redder. "Could you say that any louder?" He hissed through his teeth.

"YOU HAVE A NICE—" Zuko slapped a hand over Jet's mouth before the other, now staring, customers could hear more than they needed to.

The two had fun for a little while, finding random things like fuzzy purple ear-muffs, sparkling gloves, lady's hose, and the shade of nail polish that best matched Zuko's eyes. Finally Jet found something that he seemed to legitimately want Zuko to try on.

"It's cute!" Jet waggled the article of clothing in front of his embarrassed companion.

"It doesn't have sleeves." Zuko noted as he looked at the offending object.

"It's a vest," Jet told him, "with a fur hood. A vest with fur!"

"I can see that."

"You're going to try it on," Jet grinned evilly and took Zuko's hand to lead him off towards the back where the changing rooms were, grabbing a shirt off a display as he went. "If only they had striped shirts and goggles – we'd make a Matt out of you. And I shall be your Melo – except Melo's on bottom … and he has the scar. Maybe I should be Matt?"

"What are you even talking about?"

Jet shook his head in mock despair, "So uncultured."

Zuko frowned and Jet poked the tip of his nose playfully, purposefully being annoying. "Anyone ever tell you you're cute when you're grumpy?"

Zuko was about to reply but was abruptly shoved into a changing room.

"Want me to come in with you?" Jet leaned casually against the doorframe, grinning wolfishly. The idea of being in an enclosed space with Jet while in a state of undress was an appealing one, but on the other hand this was a changing room. Decision made, Zuko snatched the clothes from the other boy and closed the door.

"You got to let me see before you change out of it!" Jet said, speaking a little loudly so his voice would carry over the stall door.

"What's the point of shopping for clothes when we wear uniforms every day?" Zuko grumbled to himself.

"Because you aren't going to be wearing a school uniform for the rest of your life?" Apparently it wasn't so hard to be heard through the door.

Zuko pulled off his sweater and pulled on the shirt Jet had found.

"Speaking of," Jet started. "What are you planning to do after school?"

"Go to more school." Zuko picked up the vest delicately; he'd never worn one with a zipper before. Zip. How convenient! "What are you going to do?" He waited to hear Jet's response; this seemed like a very important question.

"Same. My parents left a boat-load for my education – so I might as well."

"What are you going to do afterwards?"

"I was thinking of being a policeman."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I like to help people out and I'm not smart enough to be a doctor or anything. I definitely don't want to be a fireman – no offense to your cousin. So yeah, policeman."

"But you're such a delinquent!"

"I just act this way 'cause girls like it."

Zuko rolled his eye (he wouldn't admit how much he liked that Jet's bad boy behavior) and opened the door. He felt stupid for wearing anything with fur on the collar.

Jet was leaning against the door to the changing room. He turned when Zuko came out and smiled a blinding, beautiful smile. Zuko was momentarily dazzled.

"This thing is ridiculous," he snapped himself back to reality. "Why have a furry collar when your arms are bare?"

"That's the point! It's a vest with fur! It's a contradiction!" Jet admitted with a grin. "But you have the long sleeves to keep your arms warm." He stepped forward and gently took the edges of the fluffy hood in his hands and pulled the material close around Zuko's neck. "Besides, this way you don't need a scarf."

Zuko felt warm but only half because of the vest. Jet saw him blushed and a ghost of a smile crept onto his features. He leaned in, pulling Zuko toward him and their lips touched in a soft kiss.

Zuko liked shopping.

Before Zuko knew it the two had wandered over to his uncle's teashop.

They sat down at the plain wooden tables and Jet looked around, admiring the jade colored walls and the nostalgic smells of a well-loved home. Zuko had long gotten used to it. He had come to consider the Jasmine Dragon as a reincarnation of his uncle in building form – they were both calming, warm, and full of tea.

Iroh spotted them from the kitchen window and hurried out to offer them some of his best tea – free of charge of course. "I'm glad to see you two have made amends." He chatted amiably as he poured them each a drink.

Jet grinned, his cheeks pink from the cold outside. "We just had to talk things out."

'Then make out,' Zuko thought but did not say.

"Zuko, are those new clothes?"

Zuko unzipped his vest a bit. "Yeah," he felt a little self-conscious.

"You look so handsome." Iroh ruffled his hair fondly. Self-consciousness gone, Zuko fixed his hair with a scowl.

"He's always handsome," Jet said unabashedly, looking straight at Zuko as he said it. He grinned evilly when the boy's face flushed with embarrassment.

Iroh chuckled and his belly heaved. "Of course! How foolish of me, you're right." The old man went and brought them some cakes to eat with their tea, then got back to work.

The two sat and chatted like they always did; speaking of nothing. Jet would talk and Zuko wouldn't understand or wouldn't know what to say – they'd both end up amused.

Zuko refused any public displays of affection – coming down off his high he was embarrassed about all the touching he and Jet had done in public already. He wasn't sorry for the touching – but he was embarrassed about their audience.

Luckily Jet was innovative – once he realized Zuko wouldn't hold his hand while in his uncle's teashop he went for a more subtle approach. The two boys touched feet under the table. Jet would stroke his foot up Zuko's calf under the pretense of crossing his leg. He reached for Zuko's knee and received an amusing, albeit unexpected, reaction as Zuko flushed and clapped his hands over his mouth to keep from laughing.

"Your knees are ticklish?"

"Shut up!"

"You're adorable."

When they'd had all the tea and cakes and attention from Iroh that they could stand they left the shop and headed back to the park, only instead of smoking as their usual habit, the two sat and talked.

Jet held Zuko's hands and they huddled together to keep out the cold (most certainly not snuggling). Jet told Zuko stories, how he'd been arrested for shoplifting once and how he'd been the one who'd graffitied 'Remember remember the fifth of November' on the side of the Qin Bridge by the freeway (which Zuko had actually seen although he didn't know the reference). Zuko told Jet about Aang and Toph visiting when he was sick. Which reminded him of his mother, and how she used to take care of him when he wasn't feeling well, which lead to him telling Jet about her – how she'd left when he was eight. He'd never known why. He probably never would.

Jet wrapped his arms around Zuko and held him tightly, kissing his burnt temple; for once Zuko found he didn't mind too much. The air was wintry clear making the sky seem particularly huge and everywhere, which only just made the two of them feel even more together and whole. Zuko thought that he wouldn't mind feeling like that forever.

Zuko was sad to go home, but as he walked up the stairs to his apartment he still felt warm tingles where Jet had touched him during the good-bye kiss they'd shared.

He let himself into the flat and kicked off his shoes, setting them away as he usually did. The apartment smelled like fresh tea; his uncle was home. It wasn't too late, dinner hadn't even been started. Zuko was in just enough a good mood that he thought he might offer to help Iroh make the meal when he entered the kitchen and saw his uncle at the table. He looked very solemn.

"Uncle?"

Iroh glanced up, his eyes wide in surprise, like he hadn't heard Zuko come in. "Zuko," he put his hands on the table and pushed himself up to stand. "Your father called."

Zuko felt his insides squirm. His father couldn't have called just to check in, not with how grave Uncle was looking. "He did?"

The older man nodded, his expression so devoid of humor that Zuko dreaded what he'd say next. "He left a message for you – he says he knows about your indiscretion and wants you to pack your things and come home immediately."

Zuko felt like he was sinking. "For good?"

"He didn't say. But I suspect from his tone that that was what he meant." Iroh stroked his beard, thoughtful and fretful all at once. "What are you going to do?"

A few months ago Zuko would have jumped at the chance – hell, last night he would have been more than happy to leave the whole place and forget everything; he'd hurt so badly. But now … now he had a reason to stay, something else besides the will of his father was sustaining him.

Zuko bowed his head. "Maybe I should call him," he said hoarsely.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Iroh said quickly. "You should wait –maybe tomorrow after he's had time to calm down."

"He's mad?"

"He gave that impression."

Zuko knew his father, he must have been furious. He bet that Iroh had heavily paraphrased the message Ozai had left.

But what indiscretion had he done? Sure, there were a lot of things Zuko had done recently that his father would have been displeased with – many of them having taken place that very day – but none that his father could have found out about. It wasn't like his father was spying on him.

Zuko's face flushed as he realized that any number of the people who'd seen him with Jet that day could have told his father about it. All it took was one person who knew his father and could recognize Zuko.

"Zuko?" Iroh's voice pulled the boy back to reality. "What are you going to do?"

"I…" Zuko tried to think but his mind was spinning.

For so long he'd wished his father would tell him to come home – that his father would want him home again. Now his father wanted him home and Zuko felt like a black pit was growing inside of him – the taint of knowing that his father only wanted him back so he couldn't cause trouble.

"Zuko?"

"I don't know," Zuko said weakly. "I want to go home but…"

"But what about Jet?" Iroh finished.

"Yeah. Wait – what? What about Jet?" Zuko's ears started to heat up.

"I thought you two were dating now." His uncle's eyebrows rose in surprise.

Zuko's mouth fell open and his face went hot red. If his hair could have blushed it would have. "Wha – no! What?" He'd always been good at articulating clearly. "We're just friends!" He looked away, aware of how much he was blushing. He'd always been good at lying too.

"Zuko, you've been living with me for six months now and I have never seen you as happy as when you are with him."

"I'm not gay," Zuko threw out – still reeling.

Iroh sighed, "Fine, you don't have to be gay. But we have to talk about this—"

"How did you know?" Zuko blustered, still not paying attention.

"Zuko," Iroh sighed, somewhat impatiently. "I'm old but I'm not senile." He saw the unimpressed look on his nephew's face and sighed again. "I figured it out this morning when Jet came over. Can we talk about the more pressing matter at hand?"

"You're… you're okay with it?" Zuko didn't know why he asked. It wasn't like he cared what his uncle thought of him. Really. He knew what his father would think – it shouldn't have mattered to him what his uncle believed.

"Of course," Iroh said, his tone surprised. "Zuko, I've come to think of you," he swallowed like there was something in his throat, "like a son. Why would I care who you choose to be with so long as you're safe and happy?"

Now it was Zuko's turn to swallow the lump in his throat. Okay, maybe his uncle's approval did sort of matter to him. "Okay," he mumbled, looking down at the floor.

Iroh stepped forward and put his arm around Zuko's shoulder in a half-hug. "I know you've been having a rough time lately, and I know you may not want to think about it – but you have to make a decision here. What do you want to do?"

Zuko sighed, feeling shaky. He was having a rough time right now. He let his head fall onto his uncle's shoulder and promised himself that he would obliterate this moment of weakness form his mind later. Iroh rubbed his back the way a parent would rub the back of sick child; comforting and unfamiliar to the young boy. He sighed again.

"I'll go," he said.

"What?"

Zuko straightened up, feeling his confidence grow. "I'll go home – back to my father."

Iroh looked shocked and opened his mouth to protest but Zuko cut him off. "I don't intend to stay – I just… I need to talk to him." He pulled away from his uncle. "I'm going to go pack." He didn't move.

"Are you sure?" Iroh asked, his voice more serious than Zuko had ever heard.

The boy looked evenly in his uncles eyes. "I'm sure."