013 "It's Not Even Cut" by Abraxas 2010-12-14

Zuko plunged a fist into the fountain and it steamed.

Sokka relaxed as vapor spread about the air.

"At last," he said with a grin, "a good use of jerkbending."

"Jerkbending! Peasant - " Zuko started then ended dragged into the water after yet another announced sneak-attack. "Sokka!"

"Just saying - it would be useful at the pole."

Zuko reclined onto Sokka - prince's back against warrior's thigh - the water was only ankle-deep. Naked, their bodies displayed their cuts, fresh after a round with weapons. They stung as wound brushed against wound and bled into the fountain.

The water-boy found the ointment and dabbed a cloth into it. The fire-boy struggled not to cry as the medicine was applied.

"How did that happen?" he mused about the wound.

Space-Sword flew at Zuko - its edge bruised an exposed area of chest.

Dueling-Blades split while Sokka did not look and scraped a bit of skin.

Warrior and Prince parted and circled each other. Weapons ready, they tested their attentions, thrusting and retreating where the opportunity arose. They paced and drifted toward the edge of the courtyard. A remote part of the temple, the perfect spot to practice no hold barred style.

"Yeeeouch!"

"Baby!" Zuko chided, "You didn't yell when I gave it to you."

"What am I supposed to do?" Sokka whined. "It hurts, damn it..."

A fragment of a smile came then vanished off of the exile's face.

It had been Sokka's idea to spar. Not that Zuko complained. Although everything they did nowadays seemed to be yet another of the tribesman's ideas. They needed that practice - and it was best to fight away from those sensitive of violence. As their torn clothes and scratched skin attested...

Prince tried a last ditch attempt at redemption. Surging toward Warrior, he raised the Right Blade and thrashed the Left Blade - it hit Space-Sword and it rang like a bell. Prince spun as Warrior's grip faded. Alas, as Prince's eyes averted, Warrior crouched and rolled and knocked the opponent onto the ground. Awkwardly the tribesman lunged atop of the exile, their weapons scattered, their hands grappled as they fought body to body.

"Kiss it," Sokka said. "Kiss it - like mommy used to."

"Baby!" Zuko sighed - yet kissed that cut. "Baby feel better that I kissed the boo-boo?"

Sokka smirked at thought (and actuality) of Zuko baby-talk.

"Almost... What about this?" He pointed to a cut at his arm. It was kissed obediently. "Hm, a big cut needs a big kiss." It was kissed rigorously. "You are good at kissing the boo-boo ... but ... what about this?" He stood - and pointed - while water dripped everywhere. "What are you going to do about this?"

"It's not even cut," Zuko tried to complain.

"Well ... it'll make up for the rest," Sokka replied, raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms. "Well ... I'm waiting..."

Aang stumbled into the courtyard - and retreated. Jaw agape. Eyes shut. Thankfully, the boys were too distracted to notice.

"Hm, like this we won't need jerkbending to keep warm."

END