#48. Kiss
Wow-glad you all liked the last one! Huge thanks for all the reviews, especially Holy Chiz, who I didn't get to reply to. Supports so awesome, you guys.
I have been stranded in China w/o Internet (no, really; though how often do you get that excuse?) so apologies for the lateness. Nice prompt though, ay?
She pressed her hand against the cellar wall, searching for motion above her, and then smiled. "Coast's all clear up top."
"Sweet," he grinned, sliding down the rest of the ladder and landing on the balls of his feet. The thud echoed through the small cellar, and he shot a hasty glance up toward the trap door, almost expecting someone to have heard.
Toph snorted. "Wanna keep it down, Sokka?"
"I'll have you know that Water Tribe warriors are trained in stealth," he replied tetchily, glancing towards the patch of shadow that looked to be Toph. The half-open trap door above, a postcard-stamp-sized square of red and gold, provided exactly enough light for Sokka to see his hands and upper body.
And the bottles. The dim firelight bounced off them, making them glow a deep, rich amber. There were a lot of bottles.
"So what you're saying is you can be stealthy—you're just choosing not to?"
"Be nice," he sulked, making his way towards her.
"Overrated. Come on," she ordered knowledgably, motioning him over. "The good stuff's in the back."
"How do you know?"
"Because the good stuff's always in the back. Duh. Good stuff's near the front for when you just want a drink, okay stuff's in the middle to fill up space, and the really good stuff's in the back, where you know where it is and it's safe from idiots looking for some cheap booze."
"Except we have cunning on our side."
"That we do." She paused, reaching out to gesture towards a shelf that loomed over them in the shadow. For a moment, it Sokka back for a moment to when he'd been sure there were monsters hiding in all caves, ready to eat warriors who wandered in unawares. However, this particular monster-ish shape was striped with rows of dark, elegantly labeled bottles, which made it A-OK in his book.
He reached for one of the bottles, squinting at the label, and then swore quietly. "What?" Toph demanded, and he grinned as he looked up at her.
"This," he declared, "is a '32. Damn—does Zuko even know how lucky he is?"
"Good stuff," she replied proudly. "Always in the back."
Being an aristocrat by birth, he decided, had its perks. Taking Toph had been a necessity—after all, that was the point today—but her being expert at nobles' logic just made this whole thing even better. He'd never tried something this adventurous before for the sake of liquor: sure, he'd snuck the odd bottle from the kitchens or whatever, but this was a million times better.
Besides, he had an extremely good reason. Today was a special occasion, and no cheap cooking alcohol was going to cut it. Raiding the Fire Lord's secret stash wasn't just fun any more: it was absolutely necessary. Period.
He dug out the corkscrew he'd jammed into his belt, twisting it into the stopper and pulling the cork out with a pop that echoed through the cellar. The smell, rich and layered with opulence, hit him like a freight train—damn, he thought happily—but he passed it to Toph first. She sniffed it, wrinkling her nose at the smell, and then lifted it to her lips, taking a swig.
He'd half hoped she'd cough, or even just splutter a little so he could make fun of her—her stealth comment was still aching for a comeback—but she swallowed calmly, giving an approving nod after a moment. She offered it back to him, and he reached awkwardly for it in the near-blackness, the bottle nearly slipping from his hand as she passed it off to him. "Careful," she whispered hoarsely, and then, more calmly, "That's good, though."
"Mm-hmm," he agreed happily, taking a gulp as she passed it back to him. For a moment, he nearly choked: it was like drinking lighter fluid, like swallowing a firebender whole—but then he gasped in a breath, and it was delicious. "Damn…" he said, licking his lips.
"Hey," she protested. "Don't drink it al—"
"Right this way, Fire Lord."
Their eyes widened simultaneously, and Sokka nearly dropped the bottle. "Did you just…" they both began to demand, and then stopped in horrible realization.
"Hide!" she blurted.
Sokka didn't waste a second, grabbing her hand and dragging her towards the last row of shelves. They ducked behind them, both instinctively holding their breath as the trap door above them creaked open. A light appeared at the top of the ladder, shedding gold across the floor, and heavy footsteps followed: three people clambering, one after the other, down the rungs. Peering through the racks of bottles, Sokka realized at the same time Toph did that the person providing the light was holding a flame directly in the palm of his hand, the fire gleaming off the silk of his Fire Lord robes.
"What do you think, your majesty? Perhaps the '72 for her feast?"
"Are you joking?" demanded a second voice, and with a jolt, Sokka recognized it as Iroh. "For this kind of occasion? Nephew, I expect better of you than that?"
Sokka's grip tightened simultaneously on the neck of the bottle and Toph's hand. "He's breaking out the good stuff!" she hissed.
"Least he cares?" he offered weakly.
"Don't worry, uncle," Zuko replied, a faint grin in his voice. "I wouldn't dream of it. Something from the back row for her party, I think," he continued, now to the servant.
Toph cursed sharply, turning to stare at Sokka. "What do we—?"
You need excuses, he registered frantically. Distractions. Do something, Sokka! "Follow my lead," he blurted, and then—with his free hand, not the one holding the barely-opened firewhiskey—he grabbed Toph's chin, tilting his face down to meet hers.
Sokka, for a now-twenty-year-old who spent half of puberty trying to save the world, had done a good amount of kissing, and he considered himself pretty experienced in that whole area—as seen it all as any twenty-year-old could credibly be. He'd be damned, however, if Toph's stunned little gasp into his mouth, her lips brushed with a taste of firewhiskey, was not one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. First he'd just been determined to give Zuko a show (and, okay, maybe just a little motivated by the firewhiskey buzzing around in him) but it was like knocking the first domino over in the chain. His hand gripped her chin, pulling her closer into the kiss—had she always been this curvy?—and then, since she was clearly trying to freaking kill him, her lips parted, and she groaned.
Into his mouth.
Sokka, realizing abruptly that his other hand was being wasted, dropped the firewhiskey.
The bottle shattered, and the other three footsteps sped, before clattering to a frantic halt. Toph, completely distracted by what was definitely the best dream she'd had in her entire life, ignored them, her hands sliding along his chest like they'd been aching to do borderline forever…
Until Zuko spoke up.
"What the hell?"
Sokka drew back, gasping for breath. Toph's hand, weaving into Sokka's belt, stiffened abruptly, and she yanked back, eyes wide with panic. Iroh, on the other hand, was grinning like the Cheshire cat, fingertips steepled evil-mastermind style as if this whole thing had been his doing. The servant looked like he wished he was anywhere else in the universe but here, and Zuko looked torn between going even paler than he already was or flushing a furious red. The result, a brilliant compromise, was rather spectacular.
Color aside, though, he was staring not at Toph but at Sokka. "What the hell?" he repeated, sounding not angry but staggered. "Sokka?"
"Oh," said Sokka calmly, wrapping an arm around Toph's waist. "Hey."
Toph, cheeks flaming and jaw slightly agape, managed, "…Hey."
"Sorry 'bout that," Sokka continued. "We were just looking for a little, uh, privacy."
"In the wine cellar, eh?"
Sokka fumbled. "We were figuring we wouldn't be… ah, disturbed," he finished, pointedly quirking an eyebrow on the last word.
The servant, at last reaching his breaking point, edged frantically around the shelf and was gone in a patter of footsteps. Zuko, however, eyed them for a moment, and then, with an unhurried wisdom, his gaze moved calmly to the shattered bottle on the floor. A moment too late, Sokka tried to shuffle in front of it, but Zuko's golden stare fixed him in place like a spotlight. "You two," the Fire Lord aloud, "are such awful liars."
"What?" Sokka demanded, sensing his defense unraveling as he spoke. Pointedly he glanced down, letting his jaw drop as he saw the ex-bottle of firewhiskey. "Oh," he said slowly. "Damn. I must have… have—"
"Knocked it off the shelf," finished Toph seamlessly. "Sorry, Sokka and I tend to get a little… carried away sometimes." She flashed Zuko a coy grin, adding, "Come on, Sparky—you and Mai must know the feeling, right?"
Zuko gawked, his face suddenly matching his brilliant red robes. Iroh, meanwhile, broke into a full-on guffaw until a scowl from his nephew stopped him. "I know that you two have no sense of shame," Zuko snapped.
"Nephew!" broke in Iroh. "What's wrong letting loose a bit? I'm sure it would suit you well—"
"What's wrong?" Zuko echoed. "What's wrong with stealing a…" He scrutinized the pieces. "A bottle of the '32?"
"They're just having some—a '32?" Iroh choked, face falling in an instant. His eyes flared with horror. "Oh!" Abruptly, he collapsed to his knees by the bottle shards, face in his hands. "You terrible, terrible children!" Lowering his hands to finger a piece of glass, he spoke at last without looking away from the puddle. "Punish them, nephew," he whispered brokenly. "Oh… this whiskey was a thing of beauty once…!"
Sokka, taking opportunity of the outburst, tried to edge away, but a stare from Zuko froze him in place. "So…" he mumbled, "we're really sorry, so can we…?" He pointed toward the ladder hopefully.
Zuko grinned.
"Sure," he agreed coolly. "There's really not any need for me to do anything."
Uh-oh.
Sokka's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"Not my place," continued the Fire Lord lightly. "And I'm sure Katara could do a much better job anyw—"
"Katara?" Sokka blanched, jaw dropping. "Oh… oh, Spirits, no, Zuko, please—do you know what she'll do to me?"
"Kind of the point, Sokka."
"It's my fault," Toph interrupted.
Zuko raised an eyebrow as his gaze flicked to her. "Oh?"
"I wanted to do something fun now," she lied, biting her lip. "I thought this would be a good idea. It's not his fault. And, uh, you can't punish met today, right?" She grinned hopefully. "That'd be pretty low of you, Sparky." When he didn't respond, she added cautiously, "And I didn't mean it about Mai, either."
Zuko took a deep breath, cutting her off. "So if that was your idea, then the …" he gesticulated, struggling for words. "Diversions?"
Sokka and Toph both hesitated.
"Mu-tu-al?" Sokka offered finally, dragging it out into three long syllables.
For a moment, Zuko stared at him carefully, searching his face for something to back up the claim. Apparently finding some kind of answer, however, he straightened, flicking his fingers. "Just go," he muttered, "and don't do it again. I will tell Katara!" he shouted after the other boy as, taking no chances, Sokka and Toph raced towards the ladder. Both offered apologetic smiles as they skirted a glaring Iroh, still on the ground.
As the earthbender brushed past him, though, Zuko grabbed her wrist. Toph yelped softly as he pulled her back, bending close to her ear as he added a final retort.
"Happy birthday," he whispered, smirking as she glared at him. "Glad you got what you wanted."
She flushed red, pushing away, but Zuko didn't miss the hint of a grin on her face either. He smiled despite himself—about time someone finally gave Toph something she liked.
For the record, it's Toph b-day, and she's legal now. Hence the necessity for drinks XD Reviews are always great!