Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or it's characters.
80
It should have been fun. Nearly six weeks of working at the cafe, and Aang and Katara had never worked a shift together. It should have been fun.
Instead, there was a weird, awkward tension in the air, thrumming like a plucked string whenever they spoke or bumped into one another. He knew he had made a mistake the night before, walking away from her when he should have stayed and talked, but the truth was, he did want that gym partnership. Financial stability, the ability to make his own hours, plan his own workout regimens, select his own clients...
But, he also knew that he was willing to spend the rest of his life dodging Mrs. Morishita's grabby hands and listening to his manager complain about the state of his gym bags, if it meant he could have Katara by his side.
He would not go without her. And she couldn't go. Asking her to move was beyond selfish. He'd blundered and made mistakes in the past, and all it had done was made him see things more clearly. He was going to marry her, one day. But, he was putting that in jeopardy if he moved to the Fire Nation.
"Aang," Katara murmured, pulling him from the deep mire of his thoughts. "I'm going to go on my break. Just call out if you want anything."
"Okay."
She paused, hesitating, then quickly shuffled over to press a kiss to his cheek before walking into the break room.
He lost himself in the customers, in making their orders and greeting them with a forced smile, burning away the minutes til she'd be near him again. But when Toph pushed her way past the café door, Aang's placid smile faltered. He didn't know if he had it in him to deal with Toph's gruff attitude at the moment.
"Twinkle Toes," Toph greeted as her cane whacked the wood of the ordering counter.
"Hi, Toph," he sighed. "You want the oolong?"
"Yea, sure." She waved a dismissive hand. "Listen, I saw Kuzon this morning."
He nodded absently. "Did you?"
"He told me why he's here. That he asked you to move to the Fire Nation."
Hot water spilled over the side of the mug, and Aang scowled.
"I think you should take the job," Toph said firmly.
"I can't, Toph," Aang explained with exaggerated patience. "Katara is here."
"She can go with you."
Aang rolled his eyes. "Thank goodness you showed up, or else I'd never have figured this mystery out. Can you solve any of my other problems for me while you're here? How to tie my shoes, maybe?"
Toph blinked in surprise. "Spirits, what's chapped your ass?"
"Katara can't move, Toph. Her whole life is here. Classes, friends, her brother. Suki. Her job."
"I think that's up to her, don't you?"
"What do you mean?" He snapped, bending down to wipe up the spilled water.
Toph leaned against the counter. "Have you asked her, or are you deciding for her?"
"I- we've talked about it."
"You always do this, Aang. Put everyone before you." She frowned. "I know how much she means to you. I really do. I just don't think you should give up on this. I don't even think she'd want that."
"She doesn't want that," he admitted begrudgingly.
"There has to be a way to work everything out for the best, Aang," she insisted. "You've been through hell and come out smiling. You deserve this. Please don't give up because you're afraid."
"But I am afraid," he said. "I can't lose her."
"Then don't. Keep her, and get this job, too."
He smiled sadly. "Usually it's me doing the daydreaming, Toph."
"Spare me the platitudes," Toph snapped. "You want it? Make it happen. An opportunity like this one may not come again. You've been fighting all your life. For fuck's sake, don't give up now."
Sokka stared into the mirror, adjusting his jacket. He knew he cut a svelte figure in the suit that Haru had picked for his groomsmen. It emphasized the broadness of his shoulders, highlighted the trimness of his waist, and added height to his already impressive stature.
"Fuck," Haru complained. "Save some good looks for the rest of us." He shot a dirty look at a seamstress who leaned unobtrusively against one of the dressing room stall doors, eyeing Sokka appreciatively. "Now I understand why brides always pick ugly bridesmaids dresses. They don't like being upstaged."
"You're beautiful to me," Sokka said in a sing-song voice, blowing him a kiss.
"I feel like I should demote you to a regular groomsmen. I don't want you standing next to me for comparison when Song walks down the aisle."
Sokka stepped away from the mirror. "You're the groom," he reminded his friend. "Song won't even be looking at me."
"I can tell you for a fact that Song will at least notice you. She had a little crush on you when she first met you," Haru said sullenly.
"Well, then, it's a good thing you two are meant for each other. Song and I would have been a disaster, and she knows it, too." Sokka smiled at his friend encouragingly. "And anyway, give yourself some credit. You look great."
Haru made a flippant gesture. "When you and Suki get married, Song'll probably throw me over for you when she sees you standing at the altar."
"I'd elope with you before I ever eloped with Song," Sokka laughed. "And anyway, I sort of doubt that Suki and I will ever get married," he added under his breath.
Haru squinted at him in surprised scrutiny. "What? That's not what Song says. She says Suki is just being a stubborn ass because she's scared of her feelings, but once it happens, it'll happen fast."
"I appreciate Song's optimism, but this is more than just stubbornness. It's, like, a fundamental fear of marriage."
"That... sucks," Haru said succinctly.
Sokka nodded morosely. "We got into a fight about it, and we're getting back to normal, but it feels like it's hanging over us like a lead weight."
"So... are you going to stay with her?" Haru frowned. "I mean- if you don't really have an endgame, and she doesn't want to get married... Where is this all going?"
"I don't know," Sokka admitted, sighing. "I just know how I feel about her, and I hope that's enough. We'll see." He straightened, turning away from the mirror. "Fuck, this is depressing. Let's talk about something else. You're getting married, for fuck's sake. That's a happy thing. Step into the mirror so I can properly swoon over you."
A/N: boy talk. I, like so many others, have a true weakness for a man in a tailored suit.