A/N: Happy Friday y'all! I don't know about you, but it's been a WEEK. TGIF for sure.
Anyways almost two months ago jellolegos dropped this incredible art on tumblr post/637723175509164032/late-night-tea-zutara-etsy-i-twitter-i and thought "huh, I think I'd like to write a fic for that. Then a couple days later Sanasnacks officially asked if someone could write one, and I said maybe. Then of course, life happened, but better late than never, right?
Thanks to the wonderful hereforthezutarastuff for beta-reading 3
"How's your homework going?"
Katara blinked, the anatomy diagram flashing before her eyes as she looked up at Zuko. "Uhm, good, I think. I might actually pass this exam after all."
Zuko chuckled and fiddled with the handle of the push broom. "I mean, we all knew that, but I'm glad you figured it out."
Katara stuck out her tongue before flipping over her phone to check the time.
"Shit Zuko!" Katara finally noticed the shop was empty save for the two of them, and Zuko had already removed his tea apron. "You should have kicked me out of here twenty minutes ago!" She began frantically packing up the chaos of her notes that had scattered across the tiny table.
"It's ok! I promise," Zuko assured her, placing one hand on her arm to still her. Katara froze, staring at Zuko's hand on her arm, until he flushed. He pulled his hand back, bringing it up to scratch his neck. "You uh, you looked like you were pretty deep in your notes, and Uncle said it was fine if you stayed till I finished closing."
Katara blinked once, twice, before shaking her head in a weak attempt to shake away the lingering feeling of his touch.
"Still, you should have kicked me out. I don't want to keep you here any later than you need to be." She resumed packing her notes, albeit less frantically.
"I don't mind you being here," he blurted, and Katara turned to study him. Zuko ducked, his shaggy hair covering his eyes, but Katara still noticed the faint blush dusting his cheeks.
Katara and Zuko were friends. Best friends, in fact. Despite their rocky start, Zuko was the only person Katara trusted with her deepest, darkest secrets. They understood each other on a level no one else could match.
It made her crush on him rather annoying.
She didn't want to have romantic feelings for her best friend. She didn't want to notice the lines of his jaw, or the way his golden eyes lit up when he was excited, or the way his casual touches set her skin aflame. She didn't want these emotions, because she would rather have Zuko as a friend than not at all. Up until this point, Katara played it safe, never risking their friendship for what she believed was a one-sided crush.
But now…
Now, as she studied him under the neon glow of the Jasmine Dragon sign, the flush spreading to the tips of his ears and his weight shifting from one foot to other, she wasn't so sure.
"Zuko," she said suddenly. "Why don't you sit for a moment?"
"Is everything ok?" He asked, leaning the broom against the table behind them as he slid into the booth across from her. Katara nodded, pushing her braid over her shoulder as she finished packing her backpack.
"Yeah, I uh, I…" Katara trailed off, her eyes wildly scanning the room for something to talk about. Zuko's hands fidgeted on the table, and she gasped.
"Zuko! What happened?" She exclaimed, gingerly taking his hand in both of hers. Katara brought his hand closer, studying the small burn on the back of his hand. She ignored the hitch in his breathing, drowned it out with the pounding of her heart.
"It's nothing, really. Uncle already helped me ice it," Zuko said, though he made no effort to remove his hand from hers. Katara suddenly felt the heavy weight of his gaze upon her as she studied the new pink skin. She prayed to any spirit that might be listening that he could not feel the way her pulse raced.
"Still, you can never be too careful," Katara said, her voice just above a whisper. She made the mistake of lifting her head to meet his eyes. The gold of his eyes was burning, molten in the low light. Katara had to remind herself to breathe.
"I appreciate you double checking it, Dr. Katara," Zuko attempted to tease, but his voice was too low, too husky to be playful. Katara felt like she was trembling.
"Anytime," she whispered. Slowly, painfully slow so he could still pull away, she brought the back of his hand to her lips. She gently kissed the burn, careful to leave only the slightest pressure. Despite the shaking of her own fingers, she held his gaze. He gasped when her lips brushed his hand.
"Katara," he muttered. It was a prayer, a hope, a question.
"Zuko," she answered. Time seemed to stand still as they stood on the precipice, the edge of before, waiting to tumble into the after.
Katara blinked, and Zuko was leaning over the table, and she was kissing him. Or maybe he was kissing her. Katara closed her eyes, deciding she could work out the logistics later. Every wish she had made for the past four years was happening, and she was determined not to miss a moment of it.
With the first swipe of Zuko's tongue against her lips, Katara leaned forward and let herself deepen the kiss. She carefully brought one hand up to caress his scarred check, and Zuko sighed against her. She let her hand on the table tangle with his, fighting the noises of contentment that wanted to spill out of her.
Katara pulled back enough to catch his eye, smiling when he tried to follow her lips. "I uh- is this, is this ok?" Katara asked, uncertainty creeping into her tone. She frowned when Zuko burst out laughing in mild disbelief.
"Spirits, Katara, yes. This is more than ok with me. Is it ok with you?"
Katara nodded, her thumb tracing circles against his scar. Zuko took in a sharp breath and squeezed the hand he was still holding.
"If I had known… If I had thought this was something you wanted, I would have kissed you a long time ago," he confessed. Katara's eyes widened, taking in Zuko's shy admission.
"If I had thought this was something you wanted, if I thought you wanted me, I-"
"Katara," he cut her off. "What on earth have I been doing wrong to make you think I didn't- to think it was possible for me to want anyone but you?"
Katara's jaw dropped a little, shock overwhelming her. "But you- and Mai," she stuttered. Zuko raised his eyebrow as if to ask Really? That's the proof you have?
"You brought Jin to my birthday party last year," she said, and Zuko snorted.
"You mean the party you had to take me home from because Azula seduced my date?"
Katara's brow furrowed and tilted her head, a refusal on the tip of her tongue before she remembered he was right. She had been so swept up by the fact that she got to spend a little more time with him, just the two of them, she ignored the reason why she had to take him home. Katara closed her mouth and slumped into the booth, bringing both hands to cover her face.
"I'm an idiot," she mumbled against her palms. Zuko chuckled, reaching to pull her hands away from her face.
"The most brilliant idiot I know. It's ok, I'm an idiot, too." He gently kissed each of her fingers on her right hand, then her left. His eyes locked on hers as he turned her right hand over, pressing his lips to her palm. Katara took in a shuddering breath, fighting the urge to close her eyes against his blazing gaze.
"If it's alright with you," he said, bringing her other hand over to kiss her palm. "I'd like to be your idiot."
His expression was earnest, honest, hopeful. Katara hated herself for bursting out laughing.
"I'm sorry," she said as she gasped for air. "I shouldn't be laughing, but in all the times I pictured this, I never thought you would call yourself an idiot while asking me out."
Zuko smirked, and Katara froze, her laughter dying as she realized her admission.
"So you've thought about this?" Zuko teased, his voice dropping. Katara could only nod as he resumed kissing her palms, her wrists, his lips lingering for a moment more against her skin.
"Should I take that as a yes then?" Zuko asked, all serious again as he brought her hands down to the table. Katara reached up and traced the edges of his scar.
"Yes Zuko," she whispered. "I'd very much like for you to be my idiot."
Iroh trusted Zuko completely with everything except tea. He would never understand how he managed to fail in cultivating an appreciation for the art of tea making in his nephew. However, Iroh did trust Zuko with closing up the shop. He knew Zuko had a routine down, and it usually took him less than thirty minutes to sweep and get the shop ready for the next day. Iroh was surprised when, an hour after closing, Zuko had not made his way upstairs to the apartment they shared above the Jasmine Dragon.
Iroh decided to check on his nephew to ensure nothing was amiss. He made his way back downstairs, fighting off images of burglars attacking Zuko. Iroh paused before opening the door, the sight before him halting him in his path.
Katara was still in the booth she claimed as her own on nights she came to study, but she was not alone. Zuko was leaning across the table, whispering to Katara. In the neon light, they both looked ethereal, like they had crossed over from the spirit world. Iroh only watched them until Zuko closed the distance between them, pulling her in for a kiss. With a smile on his face, Iroh made his way back upstairs to the apartment.
He might have lost his bet with Miss Beifong, but it was worth it to see his nephew happy.
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