Rooftop travel was never hard for me. I say this because even as a child I constantly found myself hanging from gutters or jumping from window platform to window platform. It was second nature, like breathing. The feeling of the wind in my hair during each jump was as familiar as my own heartbeat.

This side of town, however, was not.

It was worn down and the air was thick and salty from the nearby ocean. I could see the faint glisten of the moonlight on the water if I stood upright, but I tried to avoid that because, per usual, Azula had been correct, there were guards everywhere.
I would jump at the slightest creak in rooftop shingles, which happened often because of the state of the community, but never the less, I would freeze and make sure that nobody had spotted me atop these ramshackle houses. I wonder if the civilians could hear me below, or would they be so soundly sleeping in their beds? It's funny how even when you're asleep, the world keeps bustling around you.

Within minutes I found the house I was looking for. First chimney on the small street near the docks. The road was well lit yet empty, and I peered down the chimney, expecting to see a mesh of soot and darkness. However, I was greeted with a clean polished chute with light filtering up at the bottom. …As if someone had been expecting me.

To say I was hesitant would be understating the situation. I didn't want to jump into a foreign man's home, I didn't want to explain what I had been through today, and I didn't want to be away from Azula any longer. Yet as I began to doubt myself I could see a vague shadow rounding the street corner, I was at high risk of being spotted and any father pause would most likely result in the worst. With a deep breath, I climbed atop the edge of the chimney and plunged feet first into the new environment below. I landed on the soles of my feet with a dull thud.

It was a comfortable looking house. The most notable feature was that most everything was of a red or golden hue. Even the walls were a dull burgundy with a glittering gold trim, it was almost tacky, although, in this scenario it was so well executed that it borderlines perfection. Everything was dim lit by candles in their golden carriers on the wall, and there was a desk in the corner adorned with a mass of paper work and heavy looking novels. I took a few steps forward to examine some pictures on a nearby mantel. My heart warmed with such touching paintings.

There was a young man, must've been about my age, with choppy dirty blond hair that went in every direction. His eyes were brimming with excitement and a consoling joy and they absolutely glowed the most astounding jade green I'd ever seen. His eyelashes were thick and gave him a touch of femininity. He was sitting in a field of what seemed like wheat just beaming at the painter, almost intoxicated by life itself.

If this was the man expecting me, then I was going to be okay.

However there were other paintings atop the mantel, most of them were of another man, a tall man with stormy blue eyes that held just an intense gaze you could probably get lost in them forever. In every picture his black hair swooped down just above his right eye and he kept a confident looking aura about him. One of the paintings happened to be of this man and Azula, working together to bend a massive looking fire dragon.

Oh so he was a bender…? No, this was the man I was here to see. This was one of "Azula's people".

I'd been so lost in the watercolors and charcoal sketches that I hadn't noticed a presence in the corner of the room. I turned to greet him, then realized how unusual the image before me was.

The boy sat in the corner, staring up at me. In nothing but his underwear and what seemed like a collar. Even then, his underwear seemed more like tight cotton shorts than they did anything else. His body pressed into the wall behind him, as if trying to keep away from me, I took a step back as if to ease his fears. His eyes shot into me with such an intensity I was almost compelled to cradle him in my arms, and they absolutely glowed with the most astounding shade of jade green I had ever seen…

Then I realized he was the boy in the painting on the mantle. My eyes widened. He looked so different in the painting, so carefree and at peace, yet here he was, stripped down and gazing onto me like a frightened turtle-duck.

I tried to speak with utmost care. "H-hello…"

His shoulders dropped only slightly and he looking down at the wood flooring beneath him.

"…Can you speak?"

"…May I?" His voice was soft and fragile; he looked up to make seconds worth of eye contact.

"Well why not? It's… it's not my decision as to whether or not you can speak." I tilted my head in confusion.

Then a deeper, sultrier voice entered the conversation, and a tall man entered the room. "No. It's not."

This was the opposing man in the paintings, the man that was expecting me. He grinned down at me almost devilishly; his deep blue eyes glistened with an emotion I could not place.

"Good evening Ty-lee. I see you've met Kenji…" He gave the young man in the corner a very superior smile and said almost condescendingly, "Come now, Kenji, we have a guest, greet her accordingly!"

Kenji looked over at me again, significantly more unperturbed than before and slightly inclined his head. "Welcome to our home... Is there any way I can make you feel more comfortable?"

The particular wording off the question threw me off. Why didn't he just ask if he could get me anything, or tell me to make myself at home? I smiled somewhat awkwardly to my dismay and shook my head, to which Kenji nodded proceeded to keep his head down, eyes pinned at the floorboards.

I looked back at the Sauvé and well groomed man before me.

"I was told that this house was occupied by one…" I kept my hands close to my body, and stood on my toes, something about this man was charming yet frightening.

"Oh, don't worry about Kenji. He's nobody to you… I'm Satoru. A friend of Azula's. "

"I'm sorry, but…I've never heard of you before." My words didn't sound mean or displeasing but they certainly let my curiosity shine through.

His demeanor was constantly collected, constantly aloof. "A recent friend."

"I see. Azula said you'd be expecting me?"

"And I was. This is just a temporary bunker until she arrives. So please, make yourself at home. "

And with that, Satoru casually walked over to Kenji and kneeled down to his level, as if to speak to him. However, I let myself become curious once more.

"Satoru…? If I may ask…why is Kenji…?" I could feel my face become hot at the implication of his Kenji's exposed body.

In return, I received no verbal reply, however, the handsome composed man, leaned into Kenji and bit the soft skin of his exposed neck, right above the collar. Kenji's body shivered and his jade eyes closed slowly as his naturally puckered lips parted innately. Satoru bit and sucked at the young boy's soft skin with such an undying hunger that for a moment I thought certainly he must've been showing off.

My eyes were locked to the young men, my mind screamed in protest, my hands were shaking in discomfort, or maybe even a sort of excitement. To see a man lust so strongly for another man's body sent shivers through me. The only noise was the sound of my battered breath.

Until a small moan made its way past Kenji's soft lips, and with that Satoru pulled away from the boy's neck, exposing a small reddish-plum colored mark on his suckled skin.

"Be a good boy and run us a bath, Kenji…"

"Yes, sir." I noticed now that his voice was not as fragile. It was now more relaxed and contented. His expression no longer so fearful, but almost as carefree as the painting adorning the mantle depicted.

As he rose, Satoru gave his rear end a small whack and a low chuckle. Kenji's face flushed a bright red and he hurried off into the next room, not bothering to acknowledge my presence any longer, but after a spectacle like that, I didn't blame him.

"Why, Ty-lee, you look like you've seen a ghost…" The firebrand man's smile was ear to ear, and was haughtier that I'd ever seen. I couldn't even begin to fathom a reply. I couldn't even begin to fathom a noise. He sat on the floor and calmed his smile.

"Don't tell me that bothers you… The idea of two men… consummating the flesh?" His eyebrows perked in interest. I stumbled around my thoughts, still unable to find the right words. Of course it didn't bother me.

"Or perhaps… it excites you?" His shit-eating-grin was back again, mocking me. "The body works in such funny ways."

Finally when I had the chance to catch my breath, Kenji was in the doorway again, head down, arms at his sides.

"I ran a bath, sir."

"Good pet."

There was that nickname again. Pet. A title Azula did not hesitate to call me not too long ago. I swallowed at the implications of the nickname, because Saturo's were obviously much different than mine. But were they different than Azula's? So much mystery in a three letter endearment.

He rose slowly and joined Kenji in the doorway, locking his arms around the young pet's waist, and calmly looked my way.

"Please, try to relax while you're here. Azula will most likely be here shortly and I'll bet a bit of sleep sounds rather pleasant to you right now."

To be honest, it did. I hadn't realized how tired I was until he mentioned it just now.

"Make yourself at home, feel free to nap on our couch or make yourself some tea…" And on that note, he slipped a finger into Kenji's leather collar and gently tugged him into the other room.

I didn't hesitate to lay down on the plush maroon couch. I tilted my head back for a moment to collect my thoughts, but instead it was deep slumber that greeted my being.