A field trip with him and only him is synonymous with discussions that are well out of her comfort zone. This is especially true now that Appa has very unwisely eaten one of their tents.
One out of their only two tents.
"Have you realized it yet?" To say anything to Zuko about it would mean to acknowledge a lot of uncomfortable things.
He looks up from brushing out Appa's fur, his harsh reds and blacks looking out of place in the field that they've landed in, the lilies all in faint pinks and azures and lilacs beneath the midnight moon. He doesn't answer right away, studies her for a beat too long.
Oh. It's the first conversation she's initiated with him so far on this mission. That's why.
The last time they spoke, it was a mere two hours ago, right before she bloodbent that Fire Nation soldier. They must have been discussing their strategy and tactics without making eye contact, eyes fixed on the map laid out before them.
"I guess not. What's going on?"
When she pictured telling him, she forgot how intently Zuko watches whenever someone speaks to him, amber eyes unwavering. And it doesn't help that she's standing so close to him, all the better to see his reaction in this vast darkness. "Appa ate one of the tents. That's why he wasn't hungry earlier."
There's a crack of lightning, and he's illuminated for a brief moment, quiescent and incandescent, black hair cast in artificial gold. "I'll sleep out here." There is no other answer that he could have given, and the unspoken, unthinkable alternative to sleeping out here seems to linger within his mind, since his gaze darts to the ground in an effort to break eye contact.
The words almost end up not leaving her mouth. "It's going to storm in five minutes. It'll last the entire night." She knows because she's a waterbender and can already feel the clash of thunder in her veins, so at odds with Zuko's fire. Warmth blooms along her neck. Zuko's gaze follows the way she runs her hand through her hair, the only outward sign of her nerves. Being nervous around Zuko is a strikingly unfamiliar feeling, but well-warranted for their current dilemma. "So . . . count yourself invited in."
She doesn't know why it came out like that, worded like a flirtation.
"This is about more than just the rain," he says quietly, thoughtfully. "Isn't it?"
She doesn't answer because, well, what more could there be to this than the rain?
It's a tight fit, unsuited for tossing and turning. There's barely enough room for them to exist side by side like this, at least not without their shoulders touching.
So far, that hasn't happened yet. She's sticking tightly to her corner on the right. She glances to her left, a ray of moonlight arcing through the tent and across the unscarred side of his face. He draws his knees up, wrapping his arms around them, chin propped on one knee. Katara continues rummaging through her bag.
She swears under her breath. "I must have left my comb at the last place we camped. You don't happen to have … ?"
He hands her a brush before she can even finish the thought.
"This won't work." She sighs. "Whatever."
"Why wouldn't it work?"
"My hair is curly."
"I know." Zuko's gaze dips into each curl, follows each of their individual paths.
"A brush would only turn it into a bison's nest."
"I don't think they have nests. Or at least, ours doesn't."
She blinks several times in his direction, to which he replies with an awkward shrug.
"I think the brush would work," he finally says.
"I'm telling you, it wouldn't."
He pauses. "What if I showed you how?" And then he blinks, perhaps realizing what he just implied. "I mean …"
Ah, she knows what he means. He didn't realize that showing her how would involve his fingers entangled in her hair.
Her only response is to wrap an arm around her knee and ignore him.
But … she can't ignore it, for some reason she can't discern. She feels a chill on her shoulder be soothed by his body heat even without their shoulders brushing. "That would be intimate. You know that, right?"
It's his turn for silence. She expects little more than a splutter, but out comes something shy yet put together. "Are you saying that you want me to do it?"
"Maybe I am saying that." His mind is whirring. She can hear it.
He rests a hand in her hair.
But she pulls away, shakes her head slightly, looking down. He pulls away.
Katara sighs. "I didn't mean for Appa to eat the tent."
"That much I was able to figure out for myself." A wry smile adorns Zuko's mouth. "But let me know if you change your mind. If you decide it's … improper for me to be here."
"Improper." She tests the word on her tongue, considers it. "No."
They don't speak for a while, and there's the rustling of blankets and pillows as they both figure out how to get comfortable without falling into the other's space, something that would be very easy to do. She sees him lie down, turn his back to her, and she does the same.
She almost begins to drift off when Zuko says, several minutes later, "Katara." It's almost a whisper.
"Hmm?" She blinks the sleep out of her eyes.
"It's just … why isn't it improper?" She furrows her brow at the idea that he's still thinking about this. It might even be amusing.
"Tell me why you believe it is."
He sighs. "Because."
"Because?"
"We're close enough to kiss, Katara." He closes his eyes. "Isn't that proof enough?"
"It's okay." She closes her eyes.
He stills next to her. "What's okay?"
"To say that."
She feels him looking at her. But he leaves her be.
Ten minutes pass.
It's her who interrupts the silence next. She turns to rest flat on her back. "It was bloodbending." Zuko didn't need to say anything. She just knew he was wondering about it. "You thought it was wrong?"
"No. I'll never say that." It's quiet again. She wonders if he's drifting off to sleep.
Another ten minutes pass.
"Zuko?"
"Katara?" He sounds a little surprised that she's still engaging with him. There's some rustling, and she can just barely see his form lying flat on his back.
"You never told me about her. Your mother."
"I told you the story."
"But that can't be all there is to tell."
He closes his eyes. "I think she loved him."
"You think so?"
"Yeah. Until she couldn't anymore. Until the day she was banished." She turns her head, finding it odd to hear Zuko speak of romantic love. "Or maybe she never did love him in the first place. Maybe I was too young to understand."
"Him, meaning your father or your uncle?"
There's a pause, and suddenly Zuko starts laughing, sounding young and even a little carefree. It startles her, awakens her. He's never laughed at something she said before. In fact, he's never laughed so much for anyone before, to her knowledge. "Imagine the scandal, Katara."
"Okay, it was a bad question." She bites her lip.
"It was the best question ever." His fading smile finally dies, and Katara wonders if he also feels the ghost of a friendship that could have been. "But really. I wonder what it must be like to pretend your whole life."
Something about the statement gets to her. She wonders if such an idea could ever be said by him in the daylight, if she would ever listen when the glow of the sunlight swallows him up.
Maybe this, whatever this is between them, burns brightest in the dark.
There's a silent promise as they both doze off not to tell Aang, Sokka, and especially not Toph about their sleeping arrangements once their field trip is over.
She wakes to a softly breathing, sturdy warmth, and it only takes a few moments to realize that it shouldn't be that way.
Katara unwraps her arm from around his waist, lifts her torso away from his. It's like she rolled in her sleep, like some infant, and the only thing stopping her momentum was him, solid and steady.
For a moment, she assumes he's still asleep and thinks herself lucky enough to escape a dose of almost-awkwardness. But of course, when has she ever been so fortunate?
His eyes are on her, and it's clear that he saw the whole thing. "I didn't want to … wake you up," Zuko says very, very calmly. "For obvious reasons."
"Obvious reasons. Like?"
She didn't expect him to make such careful eye contact while under this line of questioning. "Think of it this way. If you'd woken to me on your pillow, I don't think you would have wanted me to know that you knew."
She's the one to look away. And that is definitely a first as far as the two of them are concerned. "What were you hoping would happen, then?"
"That you would sort of just … roll away."
Well. It's a good thing she asked.
"Needless to say, Zuko, we should buy another tent."
Zuko's lips twitch, almost like he finds that funny.
Oh, great. Enough of this. Time to move on.
But no, wait.
She looks down, feels the stickiness in her wrappings and lifts up the blanket to see a stupidly unexpected and unfamiliar red stain, feels the color drain out of her face.
Great. Her first ever menstrual cycle. And look who's there to share in this particular experience with her.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Her brain has to rattle around a bit to recall what she's supposed to do now. And then it takes a bit to register that, well, she never packed an extra change of clothes in her hurry to go on this mission. Fuck.
He doesn't respond, takes what she just said for granted for now, and begins rolling up his pillow. He eyes her, sees that she still isn't even moving. "Okay. Really. What is it?"
Honestly, of all the people to be stuck with right now. It just has to be a boy, doesn't it? "It's personal, you could say."
"Can I at least see your blanket so I can pack it up?"
She feels both a headache and a realization coming on. "No. And you should probably take a good look at yours before you start packing it."
And Zuko obliges, seeing the red stain right away. He puts two and two together, apparently. His face is unreadable. And then he finally looks at her. "Am I allowed to ask something?" He coughs.
"May as well. Not like I have any more face to save at this point."
He chooses now of all times to make eye contact again. "This is your first time. Right?"
"How could you possibly know that?"
Now that she's acknowledged the situation aloud, he seems less hesitant to speak. "You don't seem to know …"
"What to do. Right." She thinks about it some more. "Well, I do know. What to do, that is."
There's a silence. Katara makes no effort to move. But Zuko does. He ruffles through the bag that they brought.
He pulls out a pair of black pants. At least he had the foresight to pack extra clothes. "This will have to do for now. It might be a little big."
He says it like it's nothing, but to her, it feels strangely intimate. Sharing his clothes.
"What about something to deal with the … ?" Katara trails off.
Without looking at her, he pulls out one of his shirts, beginning the process of tearing both sleeves off.
Her face heats up as he tears the sleeves into even smaller pieces. "It isn't necessary."
"It is." The rest of the shirt is intact. He folds it and places it into the bag. "It'll be a while before we can reach a market."
For the first time, she thinks the words thank you, but something stops them from coming out.
They stop for supplies shortly after.
"Zuko? Anything you want from the market?"
"I like mangoes."
It's the first time she's heard him say what he likes or doesn't like. They walk up to a stall.
It's a boy. He's Zuko's age. "May I take you on a date -"
"No. Just passing through."
The boy seems to realize Zuko's presence. "Oh. I'm sorry. You and your boyfriend look good together."
"He's not my boyfriend."
They go to another stall. "My, my. You and your girlfriend look striking together, young man."
"She's not my girlfriend."
"Could have fooled me. Might want to consider it."
They split up for the next few stalls.
They meet up again, nearly finished with their shopping.
"Wouldn't it be fun if we pretended?" she asks, reaching out to grasp his hand.
"Why would you want to pretend?" Why would you want to pretend to be together?
"If you say no, I'll forget about the idea."
He doesn't say no.
As they hold hands, a series of jealous looks ensnare them from the teenage girls and boys that they pass.
This is what she gets for wanting to try him on, to see how he fits next to her.
She didn't kill Yon Rha. They don't talk about it, because Katara doesn't want to.
She keeps their makeshift umbrella afloat, stops walking along the gravel to meet his gaze. She looks at his lips, wonders if she should bridge the distance between them.
He doesn't notice her looking, too preoccupied by looking down at his own shoes.
Her face comes closer to his.
What would he say? That now isn't the right time? That they should wait until after the war?
She thinks better of it.
Maybe it's for the best that he pretended not to notice.
The courtyard is right outside Iroh's room. She knows he can see them sometimes. Maybe every time. She knows that he, like everyone else, reads more into what they see than they should.
She's sixteen now, and he's eighteen. She's the fire lord's diplomat, and he's the fire lord himself (in addition to the honorary title of Katara's best friend), and the unfortunate reason for neither of them getting a taste of the rice wine at the party is that they both have an official meeting to attend in an hour. Unfortunate timing for whoever decided it was a good idea to have Sokka's birthday party be on this day at this precise hour.
"Zuko?"
"Yeah?"
"Remember when we were enemies?" She looks to her left, then feels a splash of cold fountain water hit her shoulder from the other side.
"Yes. I'll save you from the pirates."
She laughs, light and free. "Seems like you miss those days. Trying to get on my bad side?"
He splashes her again, very gently. "Of course. Nothing's more entertaining than that."
They spar. She ends up on top of him, and they're laughing. And the person who catches them is Sokka.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. In public, too?" Sokka grins, but it turns into a nervous gulp upon noticing their glares. "Just kidding. It's not my fault that that June lady's starting to rub off on me, okay?"
"You and everyone else …" Katara mutters to herself.
"Repeat after me, Sokka," Zuko says, grinning, giving Katara a look from the corner of his eye.
"Uh … all right?"
"Zuko."
"Zuko."
"Is."
"Is."
"Single."
"Single." Sokka blinks. "Hey! I already knew that." He shakes his head. "You two are something else. Look, anyways, I came to ask both of you about something."
Zuko and Katara both roll their eyes and exchange glances. In their experience, such an utterance from Sokka is usually the prelude to some request equally as annoying as he is.
Sokka continues. "Teach me to flirt without Suki realizing that I'm doing it."
Katara slaps a hand over her face.
"Sokka." Zuko explains himself very clearly. "You don't need our advice on how to lure Suki in. You've been together for a good two years now."
"That's beside the point! I'm asking the two of you because your entire friendship has been based off of really skilled, insanely subtle flirting. It's literally all the two of you do."
They both know he's right, but it doesn't mean they have to acknowledge it. Instead, Katara runs at him with a water whip while Zuko looks on fondly.
Zuko's always there when Katara needs him, even when she doesn't realize she needs him. She's upset over a stupid argument that she and Sokka had, something so mundane that she can't even remember what it was about, sitting on a bench in the courtyard, when Zuko comes to sit next to her.
"It's okay." His arms wrap around her waist, the first time he's ever initiated a hug. He does it like it takes no effort or second thought. She wonders if he already knows what happened. He smiles when he sees her smile and shakes her shoulder playfully. "He's an idiot. I'll talk to him right now and that'll be the end of it. Okay?"
She can only nod, wondering when their bond began to shift and morph into something like this. She wonders when her stomach began to swoop like this and her thoughts began racing with He's cute.
Zuko is the only person she would ever ask something so silly to. She's eighteen now, and it's right after they've returned from the Caldera marketplace on their quest to find jasmine tea leaves for brewing tonight. They're in the palace kitchens, and it's just the two of them, the silence comfortable while the leaves steep.
"A lot of girls like you, don't they?"
He looks up. They never discuss things like this. Certainly nothing of romance. That must be why he gives her pause, considers her for a moment. "Apparently."
"They wouldn't stop looking at you."
"I know." He studies her face carefully.
"Why does no one look at me like that? Am I not …?" She stops herself before she can finish the thought.
His expression doesn't change. It's pensive and something a bit more unreadable. "That's odd."
"What?"
"That you would say that."
"Hmm?"
He says it all nonchalantly, like it's obvious knowledge. "That you would think you're not pretty."
The air is sucked out of her lungs for some reason. "You wouldn't say that if you lined Mai up next to me and tried to compare."
He furrows his brow, and she can't blame him. It's a mark of their friendship that he won't say aloud that that was a stupid thing to say. "I wouldn't have to." He reaches up, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. He's never done that before. "Your face is more …"
"Well, these things aren't just about the face, are they?"
She's pretty sure that he knows exactly what she means, but he still says, "What do you mean?"
"Those girls. They weren't just preoccupied with your face, were they?"
"So, you're saying …"
"Your body."
"Hmm."
"Why do you suppose no one looks at me like that?" The room is sparking.
His gaze drifts, but she isn't sure if he means for it to. He looks at the curl falling over her shoulder and onto her heart, at the hand that she rests on the smallest part of her waist, bare and uncovered by her midriff top. He seems to catch himself, looking back up at her face. "I can't say."
"Maybe I'm just not that …"
"Desirable?"
She blinks. "What makes someone desirable, Zuko?"
"It depends on the girl."
"Go on."
"Isn't it something about the combination of … lines and curves?"
"You would know better than I would."
"You're right." As though to drag him in subconsciously, her fingertip plays with the edge of her top, close to where her rib cage ends. The teapot boils over. He gives it no attention. "I would."
As he goes back to the teapot, she wonders how long more this dance of desire will continue until it all comes to a boiling point.
She's nineteen when she asks him another thing that could potentially end up being awkward. Even interrupts one of those dreadfully long meetings for it.
To get his advisors to shuffle out, all she needed to do was burst through the throne room doors and say Meeting canceled.
Everyone, as in everyone, at the palace knows not to come between Zuko and Katara and their wild and bizarre, perpetually-teetering-on-the-edge-of-something-more friendship.
She takes a seat right beside him at the high table. He's always especially, regally handsome when he's in his crown and robes, hair pulled back into a top knot. "So."
"Thanks for freeing up my day."
"Of course. Um … look, I don't know who else to ask, but …"
"It must be about something awkward, then."
"It is." She bites her lip. "Do you also get the vibe that Aang still likes me?"
"Yes." His eyes light up with the air of someone on the edge of gossip. "Well, it's more than just a vibe. You probably get what I'm saying."
"No way. He's been talking to you about it."
"He sounds really young and like a hopeless romantic whenever he starts going on about you. Then again, he is really young."
She leans forward, her fingers hooking onto the gold inside of his sleeve while she smiles. "And he thinks you have all the answers."
"Yeah. And who else is he supposed to go to? Sokka? Imagine how awkward that would be."
At Zuko's disgruntled expression, Katara laughs. "He's a really good kid. Don't be a meanie to him."
"Of course he is. But he needs to find someone his own age to pine over. And yes, I told him as much."
"One could almost think you're being protective of me." She dares to test the waters a little. "Maybe even in a romantic sense."
"Hmm. They could think that."
She lets that sink in. "He's really keeping your hands full, kind of like a little brother."
"Oh, he is. He really is."
"Bet you tell him all about your own girl troubles."
"I might let it slip from time to time."
She pauses in tugging at his sleeve. "That's cute. The two of you talking about that. Ty Lee and I talk about you as well."
"Elaborate."
"We say that you're handsome. What else?"
Zuko starts laughing. "Really?"
"Well, yeah. It's the truth, isn't it?"
She's twenty years old when she figures that it's time to be more direct.
"Zuko. Let's go to your room. I want to talk about something."
Once the door is shut, he asks, "What is it, Katara?"
"It's just … I don't know. Do you promise not to laugh?"
"I'm not going to laugh."
She sighs. "I hate to be this direct, but … tell me what sex is like."
Zuko coughs a bit. "Bold of you to assume -"
"I don't need to assume. You yourself told me that you and Mai -"
"The last time that happened was a year ago. We're through for good this time." A year ago. It occurs to her how hard that must be on a guy, no pun intended. Katara smirks.
He and Mai broke up before Zuko finally joined Team Avatar, of course.
But she still remembers his twentieth birthday, when he came to Katara late at night after the celebrations had ended. He spluttered out an explanation, something vague about Mai and him disappearing into his room together and something else about no strings attached.
To his shock, she patted him on the shoulder and said it was nothing but good practice for whichever girl he decided to date in the future.
Zuko continues. "I'm sure someone without dissimilar anatomy could give you better insight -"
"No. They really couldn't." Her hand grazes his.
She expects him to not dare to venture into this territory with a female friend. But he does. "You … feel kind of blissful afterwards, you could say. Like you're in love, even if you aren't."
"What about physically?" Katara rests her head on his shoulder. They're both slumped on the wall next to each other, dressed to the nines, forgetting about furniture.
She expects him to tease her for even asking the question. But he doesn't. "It's … a rush."
"A rush?"
"Or a blur. Your breathing, the physical sensation … And do you want to know the best part?"
"What?"
"The orgasm."
She looks up at him, shocked, and … sees him biting back laughter. "You just made my heart beat so fast. I couldn't believe you said that!"
"Well, you're right. I shouldn't have said that. Because it wasn't true."
"Then if that isn't the best part, what is?"
"You really want to know?"
She nods.
"The birth control."
She's laughing so hard she can't even breathe. Somehow, she ends up with her head buried in his shoulder, simply trying to stop laughing. "Right, that would be the best part, Zuko."
He wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulls her closer. "I have some … protection … in that drawer right next to you."
"Pshhh, you do not."
"Oh, I do. Don't believe me? Look in there."
She takes one out of the drawer. "So you weren't lying. Well, this is kind of big."
"It is."
"How would you even put this on?"
She discards the wrapper, and he puts a hand on top of hers, guiding her hands. "You would pull it back like this."
"I would? Or would the guy?"
"Well, maybe the guy would let you."
"Then all you would do is …"
Zuko grabs a candle wick. "You would guide it on like this. But leave a space here." A silence ensues while he thinks. "I get it now. I've caught you."
Ah. So he has. Well, she did intend for this to happen. For Zuko to realize that it's him that she wants to do this with. "I'm guessing you don't object to my intentions?"
"No, of course not." He smiles that same teasing smile reserved only for her, that smile that always makes her brain rush.
Before her nerves can take over, she brings her mouth to his, tongue immediately tracing the seam of his lips.
But … he backs away. Pulling away from her, he looks … taken aback.
"You're right. You caught me," she says dejectedly. "I thought you might feel the same way, but I guess not."
"Call me oblivious, but I didn't realize it was me that you said you had intentions for."
Her cheeks blush. "Well, it is. It's very much you. Even if you are oblivious."
His eyes trace her neck, her collarbone. "When? When did the feelings start?"
"It's hard to tell. I probably always did. Just never realized it. It's your jawline, you know. Blame that."
He tips his head onto her shoulder like he always does, listening and contemplating. "Tell me more."
"Your voice."
"What about it?"
"It's … good. I'm sure you know. It's your voice."
"What else?"
"Your hair."
"What else?"
"Your eyes."
"Keep going."
"Zuko." She's just about depleted her list of all his physical attributes. "What else do you want to hear? To sum up everything I just said, you're cute."
"I'm what now, Katara?"
Her face flushes, and she finds herself unable to meet the sparkle in his eyes with dignity.
"I see. So apparently, I'm cute. Right?"
"This is not going how I imagined it to."
He pulls her in for a hug, and she falls into his chest. "It's okay. Don't be embarrassed. That's exactly the same stuff I think about you, minus the jawline part."
"You really mean that?" She breathes in deeply, her blush vanishing into his fiery warmth.
"Sorry for being a gigantic llama-chicken about all of this. I should have said something, but I was scared."
"Yeah, I figured." She adds, "I forgot to mention that I like your personality, too."
"Oh boy. I'm in trouble if that was simply an afterthought." She feels his laugh vibrate against her, and she looks up at him. He starts to twirl a lock of her hair playfully.
"Shush, you know what I meant."
His voice grows quiet. "I liked you ever since our first conversation, even if I didn't realize it back then. You were … honest, fiery, kind, emotionally intelligent." He gently pulls her back to face him, places a feather-light kiss to her forehead. It's strange to receive such an intimate touch from him.
Swift and sudden, he presses a firm and playful kiss to her cheek. Her face heats up when he pulls away, and he starts laughing that same adorable laugh of his.
"May I take you on a date, new girlfriend?" She shakes her head furiously. "No?" He laughs harder.
"It's just, I was expecting an actual kiss just now."
"Katara. All I did was kiss you on the cheek and you're blushing all over yourself." His eyes are teasing.
"Fine. Maybe I wouldn't be able to handle it." She sighs. "Let's do something else, then."
"Like what?"
"Sex. And all the things leading up to it."
There's a pause.
"Zuko?"
"Lead the way. Can't promise I won't blush, though."
"Oh, really?"
"Weren't we 'just friends' only a moment ago? Considering that fact, I figured you might want a couple weeks' worth of buildup before, um, diving right into this. Not that I'm complaining."
"Shut up." She buries her face in his shoulder embarrassedly.
"From enemies to this, huh?"
"You're making this awkward." He grins.
"Fine. How do you want to proceed from here?"
She unbuttons her periwinkle midriff top. He's seen her like this plenty of times before, in just her wrappings. She undoes them as his eyes fall shut.
He takes a deep breath. A part of her wonders if this is something she'll regret out of embarrassment later, but there's a thrill of excitement overshadowing that feeling by far.
He finally opens his eyes. His jaw immediately slackens. He tries to bring his eyes back up to her face, and yet they drop back down. Her hand twitches almost subconsciously, as though wanting to move to cover herself shyly from the intensity of his gaze.
His finger goes to her shoulder, drawing a light curve, questioning.
"Whatever you want, Zuko. And whatever that is, I think I'll like it." Her breathing quickens. "I know you can be sweet, but that's not what I want right now. Maybe I'm in the mood for something more … intense."
He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to.
He responds by throwing her to the floor, until she's on her back and he's on top. His hands grip the underside of her breasts, and her thighs crisscross together and her back arches and a gasp leaves her.
"That rough enough?" His hands, square and male and callused, continue upward, rubbing up and over her nipples like it's nothing.
He's careful not to let his hips touch hers, not even slightly, maybe not wanting to push her limits too much too soon. She pulls his head down, pulls at his hair until his mouth meets her chest.
He starts with the right side, giving an open-mouthed kiss to the center of her nipple. He presses kisses all around the areola, before venturing further out, much harder kisses doled out to every inch of roundness.
His mouth is aggressive, moving to suck the skin on her rib cage, and she knows he'll leave bruises there.
He comes up for air. Meets her eyes.
"What do you think so far?" Katara asks, the beginnings of a smirk on her lips. She sits up, knowing that the movement makes her breasts sway and that that fact must be making the area between his thighs act up.
His breathing is erratic. She's never seen Zuko like this before. "What do I think? Well …" He leans his head down suddenly, capturing the same breast again with his hand, placing a sudden kiss to it. And she gasps, a moan slipping out, which he blinks at slowly. "Perky. Teardrop-shaped. To my liking."
"Really."
"But you already knew that. That's why you wanted to show me."
She nods. "This one looks a bit swollen, doesn't it? Thanks to your doing."
"It does. Is that a complaint?"
"Never. Anyways, I know you were only halfway through, but I had an idea. Do you know what I want to do?"
"What?"
She doesn't know where the words come from. "Suck you dry."
He turns his head to the side. Oh, is that a blush she sees? "You don't have to."
"Embarrassed to let me see?"
"Just a little. Just a little bashful." Hmm. That will change soon. She's sure of it.
She reaches for his pants buttons, undoing them, and he sucks in a breath, eyes melting to gold. She roughly pulls out that thing of his that he was just so bashful about, hard as stone, a length to brag about.
"Zuko? I don't suppose you're still embarrassed?"
"I didn't want you to know I was hard." She giggles. "Well. Your thoughts?"
"Show-off. You already know it's big. And that I don't know what the hell I'm doing."
"Oh, I know that." His smile is hot, teasing. Her gaze is daring, narrowed.
He sucks in a sharp breath again. She dives into his lap, mouth clamping onto his length without a moment's notice. "Fuck." It's obvious that he hasn't yet realized the way he's subconsciously tugging at her hair as though pleading with her. She tries to stop herself from smiling. She sucks as hard as she can, licks him wildly. Every so often, it's like he wants to say like that but his breath keeps stuttering like a flame every time he tries to say it.
She pulls her mouth away, yanks him up by the arm, and throws him back on the bed. The look on his face is dazed, questioning.
She cups her breasts, aching and swollen, and brings them to the tip of his length.
It doesn't take long before he comes. And it doesn't take long after that for him to pull her next to him so that they're face to face on the pillow, white-hot liquid dripping from her chest to her waist and pooling at her thighs. It sticks to her hair.
There's a knock at the door. "Zuko? Don't tell me you're still asleep!" Ah, it's Sokka. What a mood-killer.
Zuko takes a deep breath, as though about to respond, but Katara puts a finger on his lips, brings her mouth to his ear as she whispers. "Put on some of your protection. Hurry."
He raises an eyebrow.
"We're finishing what we started, aren't we?"
He does what she asks, glancing at the door that Sokka is persistently knocking at.
"I know you're awake in there! I heard you opening a drawer!" They finish undressing while Sokka speaks.
It's weird, to have Zuko over her with his arms braced on either side of her head, clothes forgotten. It makes her bite her lip and giggle. Zuko's eyes widen and he covers her mouth.
Sokka's footsteps immediately walk away.
"I'm not really nervous. I just … I can't believe that we, like you and I, that we're going to, um …" More giggles leave her.
It seems to sink in for him too. Everything that they already did. Everything that they're about to do. "Right. Won't stop it from being fun, though."
She smacks his bicep playfully. He sucks down her neck, and suddenly the playfulness leaves her.
"Do it. Do it now." Her nails dig into his shoulders.
He thrusts into her slowly, carefully, giving control over to her to set the pace. And she's blushing again, and surprisingly he is too, but his eyes are also clouded over with lust while simultaneously reading her face for any signs of wanting to stop.
Another knock pounds at the door. "Zuko? We're all going out to lunch in a bit. Are you coming?"
Oh, he's coming. Just not in the way Aang thinks he is.
Before Zuko can think of stopping to answer, Katara tugs at his hair, thrusts her hips upward in several quick motions.
And he responds. His cock fills her up at breakneck speed, rubs up against her aching clit. He wraps her legs around his waist, and soon they've both forgotten their embarrassment.
Mid-thrust, they look into each other's eyes.
And that's when the door bursts open.
Both of them are pretty disgruntled at lunch. After all, neither of them exactly got to finish.
They're all at a table that seats six people, Aang sandwiched in between Zuko and Katara. Across from them are Sokka, Iroh, and Ty Lee.
"So. Who was it?" Sokka leans across the table at Zuko and winks.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you guys hear him? What do you mean, he says. I know what I heard."
Ty Lee lifts her teacup to her lips and looks at Sokka like she thinks him a huge moron. "I don't hear anything." She turns to look at Aang, who just straightened like a board and started coughing. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing! Just … Sokka, you should probably stop."
"You know, Aang, some of us are the reason that others don't get a chance to stop or, um, finish, if you want a synonym, all because we can't read the room," Zuko says over his own cup of tea.
Aang flinches, patting Zuko on the shoulder. "But the thing is, there wasn't a room to read. I wasn't even in there at first!"
There's an awkward pause for a good five minutes while everyone contemplates Aang's words and tries to make some sense out of them.
Aang trudges on with his eighteen-year-old determination. "Look, Zuko, it's not my fault that I'm still a virgin and you're not. Otherwise, I would have known better. You can't pin this on me!"
Sokka's eyes widen.
The waiter stops by their table, but Iroh puts a hand up. By the way, Iroh isn't saying a word. He probably already suspects what happened.
"If it makes you feel better, I think you were doing a good job."
"Aang. You are the last person I want to hear this from."
"But who was the girl?"
"You mean, you don't know either?"
Sokka whispers something into Iroh's ear and then Ty Lee's ear to catch them up.
Katara stiffens.
"I mean, all I saw was that she had brown hair -" Aang suddenly takes a gulp of tea and nearly chokes on it. "Never mind."
Iroh narrows his gaze upon his nephew.
"Okay. If it will get you all to leave me alone … I'll tell you who it was." Zuko takes a deep breath. "It was Ty Lee."
"WHAT?"
Well, at least Zuko tried valiantly to divert the attention away from Katara. He shows up to her room after lunch battered with bruises, though.
"I would have gotten here sooner. It's just, she blocked my chi, so I couldn't move for an hour."
"I get it. Don't apologize."
"Hey," he says, voice low. She's in a corner, sitting on the floor, and he shakes her knee with a hand, her face buried in the other knee. "Don't tell me you're blushing again."
"I'm not."
"Well, you should be. That thing you did earlier was creative. I'm not going to forget it anytime soon."
Katara harrumphs and finally meets his eyes.
"It was hot, Katara."
"Well, I suppose that makes me feel better." She thinks about the day's events again. "Can we cuddle now? You tired me out."
He joins her on the floor, reaches for her until she's in his arms. "Well, now it's going to be awkward for us once we tell everyone that we're dating."
Right. They can thank Sokka and Aang for that one.