ch: masks.
characters: jet, zuko.
tumblr prompt: jetko week.
…
There was something troubling about the way that Zuko always proposed this question; it varied from a gentle suggestion outside in the gardens (that he inevitably tore up because chaos and fighting was in his blood) to a snarled question after a long, infuriating day of pomp and politics, to a plea murmured into the thick of tangled, brown hair. It didn't help that Jet said no every time, because it didn't matter how many times he asked, he'd always be fiercely opposed to the idea of making a permanent home in the Fire Nation.
The small detail being that Jet had been living in the palace for the past seventeen months was immaterial in the argument, Jet had assured him the first time he'd asked.
There were some things he couldn't do, he reminded himself as he sprawled out in the garden, dirt caked under his fingernails, swords hooked into the flowerbeds, and one of them was calling this wretched place home. It didn't matter how many pretenses he put on for being with Zuko in public, pretending as if there was nothing going on between the two of them. What mattered was that the one place he'd ever called his home had been dissolved into ash and he'd promised himself that there was no way to build another one, anywhere.
But he'd lied, because small pieces of home were with this stupid, troublesome, tea serving Lord.
As much as Jet tried to hide it, pretend that there was nothing there, he had a weakness to the fact that Zuko relented around him. However stubborn he could be, a lengthy day or a crooked smile could completely unravel him into Jet's lap with soothing fingers pulling through that silky hair of his, lean limbs coiling around his shoulders protectively.
Oh, he'd tried to hide his feelings in forms of rage and terror and fear because those things were real, they were all the things he'd ever known about the Fire Nation, but it was difficult to hide them when everything changed and suddenly they were comfortable with one another, and suddenly Zuko was saying I love you instead of that roundabout way he'd always answered yeah, me too, and there was no way to fight it any more.
So when he'd walked in on Jet folding a golden sash around his waist, he'd been surprised to see the last of the protective barriers shatter in his presence. Jet fumbled, albeit on purpose or by instinct of never having held anything as rich and smooth as the Fire Lord's clothing, and when Zuko grinned because he knew what this meant, Jet just turned his head aside and wondered how long he'd last here.
…
notes: the blue spirit would have been an easy cop-out, but it's important to know jet is as guarded as zuko, secrets or not. weee post-war.