AN: Ah yes, it is another ship week in the dear old Tumblr universe. First prompt for this Sexy Maiko Week is Mornings, and this is a bit of a preview/side scene for a Modern AU fic i've begun to write and plan to get out as soon as time and motivation allows. Enjoy.


Morning


Zuko doesn't remember much, only that her nails are raking into his back, and his hips aren't moving careful like he's used to. He's got her pressed into the wall, whispering curses as she bites at his bottom lip, smirking at his hisses he makes and the blood that trickles down his chin.

How did I get here? He thinks, but he's interrupted by the noise she makes the third—-maybe, fourth, time he's bucked too hard. Again, he stops, muttering apologies, until her hands slip down, coaxing him forward.

The night before. He remembers that. The car ride, then Mai's separation from the crowd with whoever that was, from who knows where, going upstairs, shutting the door behind them.

There's a reason he used to avoid these things. Parties, get togethers—not that he was ever formally invited, just always rejected the thought. Nonetheless,, they're here, and he's apologizing, while her breath tastes like cigarettes and stale beer, cooped up in a room trying not to be loud—-trying.

The fifth time she cries out, he finally notices the bruises on her collarbones, painted black and blue memories she's never bothered to tell him about.

"I'm sorry," He says, and Mai mutters that it's not his fault, always shutting him up fast, mouth against his, so constant he forgets to breathe. Kissing her starts to feel like the first time she got him drunk. The buzz settles in, too relaxed, until the rest comes in waves. The intoxication pulls at every nerve, surging up his limbs until finally his face is buried into the hollow of her neck, dragging his lips across her skin as if he's trying to find her pulse while keeping them both upright.

They collapse, leaving her straddling his lap as she pushes his shoulders back, laying them both on the floor.

"You got better." Mai mutters, running her hands from his neck, down to his chest and back up again, "A lot better."

"It doesn't feel right."

"Did it hurt?"

"Not me. But I..." Zuko starts, wincing as she bites down on his neck.

"Good."

She falls asleep on his chest, bottom half covered with his jacket that he managed to pull over off the floor. She's calm—-quiet, and his touch is soft like he's used to, grazing the bruises from the fingers of others, ones that he now can't discern from his.

Forgive me, forgive me, he thinks. But she encouraged him and he's never been too sure what else to do other than follow.

"It's what i'm used to." She'd said, guiding his hand along her jaw, down her neck and the gap between her breasts, letting him raise goosebumps along her skin, pretending he can't see her flinch.

It's here, with her head fitted comfortably into his chest, with is fingers running trails up and down her back, dodging scars, that he knows he doesn't want to be another regularity. He wonders what else that means, just how many times have other people's fingers gripped her hip bones too tight, how many hungry kisses like venom, and how long will it take before he can bring himself to suck the poison out of her.

By morning the curtains cast sun and shadow over the both of them. Zuko wakes to her snoring, curled into his side. For a while he watches, smiling as she shifts, nuzzling as far into him as she can for warmth.

"You're so stupid." Mai mutters later, leaving Zuko to wonder just how long she's been up. "You're not supposed to stay."

"Why not?"

"It's like, one night stand ettiquette."

"This is a…?"

"You're a lost cause, Zuko." Mai smiles just enough for himself for him to see, pressing a kiss to hsi rib cage before she sits up to stretch, her expression almost sympathetic. "But, thank you." She adds, disappearing behind the bathroom door.

Mai comes out, immediately steals his boxers and undershirt, slipping them on as Zuko continues to stare. Finally, he snaps out of it, once her curves are covered and his face flushed just red enough or her to laugh.

It's that sound, that always brings him back. Reminds him why he managed to speak to her that day. Because her eyes were so sunken, and her expression and body so lifeless, and yet, even if was just by him being nothing more than pathetic, watching her face light up with a laugh that follows made it all worth the broken courage and effort. "You said thank you, for what?"

She doesn't answer, instead she kisses him soft, hands running up his chest, letting her lips follow the trail. Mai becomes curious. Gentle in contrast to the night before, tracing the hills and valleys of skin, tasting every inch and forgetting the faint bitterness of alcohol that sits on her tongue.

This time, Zuko is careful, and her back arches as he slips downward—-slowly, softly, laying her down, kissing a clumsy path along her torso and between her legs, following like he always has to as she guides him with her hands tangled in his hair.

Finally, she cries out again, breathing hard while Zuko comes back up, dragging his bottom lip along the same scars as if he hopes that would heal them. "You didn't answer my question before."

"Why I said thanks?" Mai breathes out, kissing him hard. "You're so weird, you know? You do whatever I say. You don't run, you don't—-" She bites her lip, "You don't leave me to wake up alone in the morning. Not like—-"

Zuko stops her, quickly running his thumb along her lashline, "I know, not like you're used to."