I have no rights to these characters. (That's probably for the best. I'm as fluffy as a newborn kitten. Once it's dried.)
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Who did she think she was? Zuko stomped through the camp in a very un-stealthlike manner. The Blue Spirit would have been appalled at his lack of attention to his surroundings, if he still existed. He was older than her! He was a prince! How dare she! And he had no intention whatsoever of washing the Avatar's bison, he fumed as he tossed the bristled branch off into the bushes.
He needed to blow off some steam.
He growled through his teeth as he climbed the rocks to his meditation spot. Stupid girl. Stupid sexy girl. He shouldn't have let her tell him what to do like he was... like he was one of them. Which was why, as he dropped into a basic form above the river, he felt a familiar bitter comfort in the fire and smoke that emanated from his body. His future had slipped away like a fish in his hand every time he tried to hold onto it.
The only solid thing (he grimaced as he exhaled flame through his fists in short, controlled bursts), the only thing he was holding onto was the wish to hold onto her. He didn't even know if he wanted it to really happen. But the way his breath hitched in his chest when he even thought about it, breaking his flow made up his mind for him.
"I'm acting like a stupid girl." He growled to himself. He was ready for a fight. He was ready for her rejection. He just wanted something to happen.
He found her on the outskirts of the training field.
"Finished with Appa already? You couldn't have. What have you been doing?" She was shifting into scolding mode. Ugh. He hated it when she got this way. He cut her off at the pass.
"Can I talk to you, Katara?"
"Sure." She looked at him expectantly. She was not making this easy.
"Alone?" He glanced over at his uncle and Aang, who were still working on basic sets. Aang was almost ready to spar, Iroh had told him earlier that day. That was a task Zuko would actually enjoy.
"Is it important?"
"Yes."
She sighed. "Okay. Lets take a walk then. Aang seems to be holding up okay, he'll be alright for awhile."
Zuko noticed Aang glowering at them as they left. He did not hold back his smirk.
After they had walked for a bit in loaded silence, she said, "So. What did you want to talk to me about?"
"I..." He took a deep breath, steeling himself for her reaction. He had a sudden change of whatever you call it. Plan.
He grabbed her arm and swung her around to him, took one last look at her face before he found his courage (somewhere near his spleen, he thought), closed his eyes and dove in head first.
His lips hit hers at a slightly odd angle, which he quickly overcorrected, succeeding only in bumping their noses together. He slipped one hand through her hair (so soft...) to the nape of her neck to anchor himself, and concentrated on the texture of her mouth. It was different than in his dreams and his... waking dreams (he preferred to deny that he had any control over them). Wetter. More solid. Not moving.
He backed off, cheeks blazing. Heart racing. Ready to bolt, if necessary. He felt strangely elated in the release of his... whatever it was.
"Oh..." it was her turn to be speechless. There was a strange look in her eyes that he was not having any luck pinning down.
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What was he doing? What was he doing? Suddenly it all made sense. She kicked herself mentally for not getting it. Of course. Why she hadn't seen it before, she hadn't a clue. She replayed the last ten seconds quickly in her head. Yes. He had in fact kissed her. Kissed her. And she had... liked it. She started to speak again, she started to demand answers and explainations. But she decided against it as she remembered the feeling in the pit of her belly a moment ago and decided to leave the thinking to later. She flung herself at him, arms locking around his neck (a little tight, he squirmed) lips finding his willing and pliant. His arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her slightly up on her feet. (So nice, she thought.) His tongue found her lips and parted them, feeling for teeth and smooth and wet and each other. They were both painfully new to to this, and they struggled to find a rhythm that wasn't just desperate thrusting and want. He bit her lip a little too hard and she whimpered, pressing her chest into him and flattening her hands in his hair. He groaned and his knees seemed to buckle a bit in response. Eventually they found a steady back and forth, a gentler exploration.
When at last they were ready to break apart, lips swollen and eyelids heavy, they stood quietly and held on for what felt like dear life. Her forehead fell lightly on his shoulder, his chin rested in her hair. She was overcome by a sudden shyness and felt a hot blush creeping into her cheeks. What were they doing? And why did this feel so good?
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"You don't like to talk, do you?" She finally said quietly, looking up into his face, the ghost of a smile crossing her features.
How did she do that, he wondered, smile with her whole face without moving a muscle?
"No." He replied. And for once, he was completely sure of himself.
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The End? Maybe not... stay tuned.