He didn't see the appeal in her. Katara Kuruk was demanding, stubborn and spoiled.
Granted she was somewhat kind, always brought cookies for everyone on set, and was a highly impressive actress who had swept the world by storm with her performance in the indie tragi-comedy that snagged the Best Picture award at last year's Bosco's ceremony.
But right now, Hollywood's latest obsession was a thorn in his ass.
"You're doing it all wrong!" he sputtered.
"Maybe if you stop shouting at me I could focus!" she snapped back.
They were several months into filming the sequel of the Blue Spirit martial arts superhero franchise film; the first installment had been the highest-grossing film of the decade. Zuko reprised his role as the lead stunt choreographer and stunt-double of the titular character who was being portrayed by his cousin, Lu Ten.
"Again!" He barked, "and this time, do it right!"
"Why isn't Lu Ten here?" She bit back, icily.
Katara had been cast as the Painted Lady, a mysterious vigilante and the Blue Spirit's eventual love interest, for the sequel. Everyone seemed to adore her. Lu Ten (who openly flirted with her), the rest of the cast and crew (who adored her), and even his uncle (who kept pestering his son and nephew for a signed autograph from the actress) were at the palm of her hands.
Zuko was highly suspicious of anyone that revered and kept his distance.
That is until the director forced him to give her additional training sessions. She had been struggling with her stunt work and in particular with the scene portraying the Blue Spirit and Painted Lady's first meeting, which involved a heated battle between the two protagonists.
"Because he isn't screwing up the stunts. You, on the other hand, need all the help you can get," he accused.
She folded her arms in a huff and he couldn't help that his eyes darted to her cleavage in the tight sports bra she insisted on wearing. Zuko wasn't blind; she was probably the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in real life, and the media seemed to agree. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't committed the particular edition of Playboy magazine with her gracing the cover to memory (which he found in Lu Ten's library, mind you) and spent many nights thinking about the tiny blue bikini barely containing her curves - but this was all way, way before he met her in person.
He had never, ever looked at or thought about a co-worker like that before and he hated himself for doing so with Katara.
"Ok, fine, fine," she sighed. "Can we run through the last bit? I keep forgetting about the chokehold."
Zuko acquiesced and proceeded to enact the stunts with her, filling out the role of the Blue Spirit. She charged at him with a kick aimed at his stomach which he expertly deflected. He grabbed her elbow and threw his fist to her face which she ducked before pretending to knee his groin and grab his neck in a chokehold. The scene would end after a series of kicks, punches and body-slams, and the Painted Lady would have the Blue Spirit pinned down beneath her.
For the first time ever, Katara managed to complete the sequence of moves without any hiccups. Zuko lay on his back while Katara squealed excitedly above him, her knees on either side of his thighs.
"Zuko, I did it!" she chirped elatedly.
She bent down for a hug, bringing their bodies flush against each other and his brain went into overdrive.
He could feel her warm breath on his neck and her supple curves (which he had secretly spent hours longing for) against him. The sweet smell of her natural scent mixed with sweat lingered. It was all too much.
Quick! Think about uncle. Naked. In a hot spring. Anything, he willed himself.
No, not the blue bikini- crap! The damage had already been done and the evidence was bulging in his pants.
"Katara, you need to get off-"
"Oh Zuko, I can't believe I did it. I'm so happy! I finally- oh," she halted suddenly and then her face blanched, having evidently felt how happy he was.
She swiftly jolted away from him. Zuko immediately regretted his previous words, mourning the warmth of her body on his.
"I'm so so sorry, Zuko," she said, her face as red as his.
"It's fine - let's just…try it again," he suggested, not meeting her eyes.
The duo proceeded to re-enact the choreographed stunts - this time, he was prepared for any inappropriate possibilities.
But when he fell on his back and she pinned him down once again, he couldn't help but be mesmerized by her proximity - the red sheen of her plump lips and her half-lidded gaze, directed at his own lips. He gulped. This was the Katara Kuruk, arguably the best actress of his generation and known for her rabid fanboys, pinning him down.
Who was he kidding? She could do anything to me, he thought as his breath hitched.
Her eyes widened at the sound. "Crap, Zuk-"
Before she could offer her (false) apologies, he gripped her waist and flipped them over. Blue eyes stared expectantly into his.
With bated breath, he ground his hard-on against her core questioningly.
"Zuko…," she moaned breathily, her eyes rolling back seductively.
That was all he needed to take her lips in between his and fuck her senselessly on the floor of the martial arts studio.