ch: trust.
characters: jet, zuko.
tumblr prompt: jetko week, nsfw.
…
Sometimes when Jet's lips are too hot on the slant of his neck or his fingers are too tight around the angle of his hips, this almost feels like a real thing to him, a relationship that isn't suffering in all the fundamental ways.
If he can call this tangle of sheets a relationship.
But nearly every time he finds himself on the edge of climax with Jet's hand around the base of his cock and his breath spilling down the curve of his spine, he remembers how hollow he feels, even as he moves in a daze to drape his limbs over the dark skinned boy beside him, that the only substance in this twisted rendezvous of theirs is the way that they leave their bodies so vulnerable and open to one another.
Sex does things, terrible things that make Zuko's heart race out of control, like give him the illusion of something deep lying in the crevice between their bodies. Like affection, or the word that he's sure is pressed tight against the backs of Jet's teeth, waiting to hiss out and shatter everything.
If Jet ever plucks up the raw, foolish courage to say it, it will ruin everything, force Zuko to stare the truth and this perspective of subliminal war behind these walls in the center of its eyes, and he's not quite ready for that.
There's something about the way Jet's kisses burn when he trails them along his skin, laced with guilt and blissful ignorance that make them sear into him, remind him that he has a long way back home, if he ever finds the strength to start back on that road.
Jet murmurs something into his neck and it is conveniently quiet, so Zuko hums and winds an arm underneath his, smears their sweat-slicked skin together and places his hope in that this will be ruined, whatever it is between them.
He prays it will be ruined before it is over (because that means it is ending, that someone will have to end it, and he doesn't trust himself to do that.)