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In hind sight, he really should have seen this coming.
But Zuko's never been very good at predicting these sorts of things, let alone at dealing with anything that can be considered romantic, so it isn't actually too surprising that he ended up in this situation.
Really, he was just trying to be nice. Katara does so much for everyone around her and never gets a chance to really take care of herself, so when she had started to complain of sore muscles, well, Zuko had thought the best thing to do was to offer her a massage.
And it at least worked, because it evaporated Katara's irritability and therefor saved everyone else from getting their heads ripped off.
But for Zuko? It's been pure torture.
He watches as Katara stretches out on her bed, nuzzling her cheek against the pillow. The red tones of her Fire Nation disguise compliment her warm skin tone; her thick hair spreads out around her shoulders like a wave. He sighs quietly at the sight.
No, not really his best idea.
It's never a good idea to give massages to a crush, he surmises.
Still, he climbs onto the bed and gives Katara a weak smile when she peeks at him.
"We don't have to do this, you know," She says. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable."
His eyes follow the gentle dip of her lower back, study the expanse of brown skin exposed to him - waiting for his touch.
He may be dying on the inside because of his own stupidity, but at least he can die happy.
Zuko shakes his head. "I'm fine," He promises, pressing his palms together. "Seriously, I'm - I'll be fine."
Katara giggles, the sound soft and muted against the pillow under her cheek. "You're awfully cute when you're awkward."
Zuko huffs, but he smiles anyway. He reaches out and moves Katara's hair, placing it on the pillow beside her head, and stretches his fingers as he heats up his palms. The temperature is warm, just warm enough for Katara's tastes. Zuko shifts closer, careful not to jostle Katara, and presses his fingers lightly into the space between her shoulder blades. He kneads at the muscles there, grimacing lightly at the knots beneath her skin. He's not sure what put them there today - maybe the explosion Aang caused in the kitchen, or the weird lizard thing she'd had to help chase out of the house, or washing clothing most of the day, or just a simple combination of all of it.
He works a path down her back, careful not to press too hard on the knobs of her spine, and within minutes, Katara is pliant under his fingers. She sighs softly, her muscles gradually relaxing, and slumps properly into the bed. Zuko smiles to himself. He presses his hand flat to her lower back and rubs slow circles, lost for a moment in how smooth and soft her skin is. His littlest finger ghosts over the dimple in her lower back, and for a moment he's struck with the temptation to lean in, to lavish that little spot with kisses.
Zuko clenches his jaw. Focus, you idiot. You know better.
Katara stretches her legs out, back arching slightly against Zuko's hand, and he pulls away, exhaling quietly. The image is deeply inviting. He looks to the ceiling. Agni, give me strength.
"That feels so nice," Katara murmurs, and Zuko closes his eyes.
He clears his throat quietly and hesitates, then reaches past her hips - staunchly avoiding her backside - and kneads at the backs of her thighs. Katara inhales, her legs stretching out again, and exhales a soft noise of approval. Her thighs are muscular, and for a moment, all he can think about is how they would feel wrapped around his hips, locked against his own -
Zuko jerks his hands back. Get it together! He berates himself silently, grimacing. He exhales again, thin trails of steam leaving his nose, and returns his attention to Katara's back. He forces himself to focus on this, to ignore the soft sighs and faint moans muffled by the pillow under her head. This is just - a friend helping a friend. Nothing else. Nothing else at all. Katara takes care of everyone; a little pampering is the least she deserves.
But that doesn't stop his fingers from slipping under the red fabric of her top, probing gently. He marvels yet again at how smooth her skin is, a completely uninterrupted expanse of silk beneath his wandering hands. Zuko bites his lip. He feels Katara's lungs expand when she inhales quietly, startled by his bold move - but she doesn't stop him. She settles again, and he swallows past the lump in his throat, forcing himself to remember that this is nothing more than a massage.
The half hard length in his pants is difficult to ignore, though.
And when Katara moans again, soft and drawn out, eyelashes fluttering across her cheeks, Zuko feels himself twitch with avid interest, and grits his teeth in response.
He pulls back quickly again, all but tumbling off of the bed. "Okay!" He says, too brightly, rocking on his heels, "All done! I'll see you in the morning!"
Zuko hurries from the room, hurries down the hall, and shuts his door a bit harder than necessary. He leans against it heavily, dropping his head back, and exhales loudly. "Dammit," He mutters, drawing a hand down his face. His cock continues to throb, and he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Uncle was right - he never thinks things through.
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Zuko does his best to avoid being left alone with Katara for the next few days. His delicate psyche can only handle so much of those moments before he shatters and is left permanently brain dead.
Still, he follows her around like the lovesick puppy that he is, gladly doing her bidding and assisting with the daily chores. It's unsettling how much they all fit into this home, this neglected house his family hasn't touched in years. To Zuko, this rag tag group makes this place feel more comfortable than anyone he shares blood with ever could have done.
Today, the sun beams down on them with merciless intensity, negated only by the occasional cool breeze filtering through the courtyard.
He dodges Aang's blow, knocking his flames aside with a swift kick, and retaliates with a whip of flame. Aang cuts the whip in half with the heel of his foot and forces Zuko back.
Zuko straightens, and he smiles at the Avatar. "You're getting better," He notes, and smiles more when Aang lights up, beaming at him for the praise. "Go take a break, we could both use it."
Aang doesn't need to be told twice. He hurries away, running inside to find something to drink.
Zuko follows Aang inside, stretching with a wince. The training session had drained him, but in a pleasant way; he feels properly worked out. He moves past the kitchen and into the sitting room, where he finds Katara kneeling before a basket of clothing. She tips her head to the right, sliding a hand under her curtain of hair to rub at the back of her neck.
Zuko crosses the room to her. He raises his brows when she looks up. "Are you okay?" He asks.
Katara nods, shrugging. "My neck hurts, but I think I just slept funny. It's no big deal." She squeezes her neck once, then lowers her hand and reaches for another article of clothing with a small sigh.
Zuko chews his lip. He crouches down and hesitates, wondering if maybe his hand is too grimy and sweaty from practicing in the sun all morning, but he reaches out with a heated palm and slips his hand around the back of her neck, resting it against her cool skin.
Immediately Katara's shoulders drop. She tips her head forward slightly, lips parting with a soft breath. Zuko swallows, unable to look away from the sight. "That feels so good, thank you," She murmurs, humming softly under her breath.
Zuko watches Katara. He curls his other hand in the fabric of his pants to keep from reaching out and stroking her lower lip, to stop himself from kissing her out right. Instead, he pulls his hand back, smiling a bit at the way Katara whines, and tips his head. "I'll come by your room tonight," He murmurs, watching her.
She looks up, and the corners of her mouth lift slightly. "Good. I'll be waiting." Her voice is soft, alluring. She stands and takes the basket with her, walking down the hall, and Zuko falls flat on his butt, exhaling loudly.
Was that flirting? He's sure that was flirting. Zuko rubs the heel of his hand against his forehead. He's only sure of one thing tonight, and that's that he will not survive this time around.
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He slips into her room at the usual time; when the others are asleep, and the moon is out.
Katara looks up with a smile. She's brushing her hair, fighting through the tangles and knots made throughout the day. Today she chose her Water Tribe robes to wear, despite the heat boiling around them; in the dark, the colors are paler than usual. Zuko shuts the door behind him, watching in fascination as the comb slides through her hair.
Something about the air feels charged. Zuko leans against the door for a moment, trying his best to calm his nerves. He crosses the room to draw the curtains closed; the room darkens further, with only a thin sliver of moonlight reaching across the floorboards. "Maybe you should ease up on your work load," He suggest, turning around, "Not that I mind doing this, but you do a lot of work and it's-"
The words die on his tongue when he sees the sash on her robe falling from where it's wrapped around her waist. The material slips open, offering a peek at what lies underneath, and then it slides from her shoulders and flutters to the floor in a pile of soft blue at her feet. Zuko swallows thickly. His eyes follow Katara's hands, where they curl in the waist of her pants and push them down past her hips, past her thighs, until they pool around her ankles and she steps out of them, nudging them into the pile her robe created.
Katara stands across from him in her wrappings only. The white stands out starkly in the dark; the material hugs her hips, her thighs, her chest, exposing the smooth expanse of her soft stomach to his eyes.
Oh.
Oh, Agni.
"I thought it would be easier with less clothing in the way," Katara explains. She turns around and moves to her bed, laying down and stretching across the length of it.
Zuko feels rooted to the spot. It's one thing to see her like that when everyone else is in various stages of undress, trying to get a bit of relief from the heat of the Fire Nation sun. It is entirely different to watch her settle into bed, in nothing but her under clothes, hair draped over her shoulders, blue eyes shining at him in the darkness.
He presses a hand to his chest, checking to make sure his heart hasn't given out yet, and crosses the room slowly. Zuko kneels on the bed carefully, tucking his legs beneath him. He glances at Katara. The way she is watching him gives him the distinct feeling that she is testing him, pushing the fragile boundaries that lay around them and between them.
Zuko closes his eyes to center himself. He opens them and draws the familiar heat to his palms and places them on Katara's back, pressing down gently. Immediately she sighs, relaxing under him, and he sets to work. All temptation aside, her muscles are terribly knotted; it's a wonder that her chi flow isn't blocked at all. He purses his lips, ready to chastise her for working her body to this point, when she hums quietly, and all thoughts fly out the window as the pleasant sound invades his senses.
He chews his lip and presses his thumbs down above her shoulder blades, and Katara makes the same noise, this time an octave higher. She arches slightly, turning her head to look at him, and Zuko feels trapped in the hypnotic pull of her gaze.
Suddenly, he is hit with the need to be closer to her.
He swallows, glancing at Katara, and shifts to straddle her thighs. She watches him, and her eyes widen in surprise, but she settles back down, and Zuko feels his nerves spike. But he holds himself in check, weight braced on his knees, and returns to his ministrations. He has a much better angle like this, able to really lay into the tension in her muscles.
When she moans, he closes his eyes at the rush of heat that floods his stomach. Katara presses her face to her pillow and arches once more, and Zuko nearly topples forward trying to avoid her back side meeting his hips. He feels himself begin to stir at the very idea, and he grits his teeth, willing his body to calm down before it embarrasses him.
"Mmm, yes," Katara sighs, and Zuko nearly bites through his lip. There is a distinct throb between his legs, a very specific part of him responding intensely to Katara's approval. He does his best to ignore it, but then she shifts under him, her backside brushing against his thighs, and he has to pull his hands away quickly so that he doesn't burn her.
Katara lifts her head, and the smile she gives him is shy but knowing, and it hits Zuko that she is doing all of this on purpose. She's teasing him on purpose.
Oh.
Well.
Two can play that game.
Zuko kneads at her sides gently, waiting until she lays her head back down. He moves her hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck, and settles his hands above her shoulder blades, leaning closer than he normally would. His breath ghosts across her skin, and he smirks when a shiver ripples down her spine. His skin is tingling with nerves, with excitement, with anticipation. Zuko massages Katara's shoulders slowly, the same even pace he's established tonight, and watches her profile. Her eyes are closed, lips parted just slightly; there is a slight flush to her round cheeks. The sight is terribly inviting.
Slowly, Zuko presses his mouth to Katara's neck - a test. He is rewarded with a soft gasp, with her pulse jumping under his lips, with her fingertips pressing into the sheets beneath her. He takes this as a sign of encouragement and creates a path of tentative kisses along the length of her neck. Her skin is unbelievably soft, warm to the touch. He stops at the curve of her shoulder, smiling faintly when he feels her pulse fluttering rapidly beneath her skin.
Now the playing field feels a bit more leveled.
Zuko shifts his weight gingerly and slides his hands down Katara's arms. He returns them to her waist, pressing into her sides gently, and continues to kiss at her neck. She exhales unsteadily, head tipping away - allowing him more access. He leans a bit closer, placing an open mouthed kiss just under the sharp corner of her jaw; another shiver rolls through her, and she exhales a soft noise, something caught between contentment and need.
He can feel his heart slamming against his ribs, thrilled and timid all at once. He's only ever been this close to one other person, and, well, it never felt like this - never felt so exhilarating to simply touch.
The heaviness trapped against his thigh throbs, demanding that he do more than just touch - much, much more.
Zuko brushes his mouth over Katara's jaw, testing the waters further. He brushes his lips along her cheek, slides his hands down to her hips. His fingers fit over the curves of them perfectly, and for a moment he's lost in the full shape of them. He presses a kiss just shy of the corner of her mouth, pulling away when she turns her head, and grins at the whine he gets in response.
Katara huffs and tosses her hair out of her way. She glowers at Zuko from the corner of her eye, as if scolding him for being such a tease. In response, Zuko presses another open mouthed kiss below her ear. He tips his head to ghost his lips over her earlobe, delighting in her shiver, and presses his teeth to the delicate flesh gently. Katara gasps, shoulders drawing back, and bites her lip, but she can't contain the sigh of pleasure that bubbles in her throat.
The blood rushes through Zuko, rushes right to a rather hard area between his legs. He braces his weight, careful not to let let his hips anywhere near Katara's. This little game is one thing; he doesn't want to overstep any boundaries.
But she has other ideas.
Katara turns her head to look at him again and arches, pushing her back side right into Zuko's hips - pressing herself against the erection trapped in his pants. He gasps sharply, jumping at the sudden contact, and fists his hands in the sheets to keep himself from toppling off the bed.
"Agni, Katara," He hisses, looking up at her with wide eyed shock. His cock throbs insistently, and the feel of her against him, despite the layers of clothing, is terribly distracting.
The corner of her mouth tugs upward in a triumphant smirk. "Is there a problem?" She murmurs.
His eyes narrow. He presses his hips forward, shifting them lightly, and smirks in turn when another gasp bursts from her. "Not at all," He responds. His voice lowers a pitch, rasping in her ear, and she shivers yet again.
This time, when her back arches, it is with intent. Katara presses backwards and shifts her hips slowly, a liquid circling motion that has Zuko's jaw going slack. He drops his head with a low groan, unable to resist her any longer, and tries to match her rhythm. For several long minutes they are lost in the pleasure of this little dance, rocking against each other in a somewhat clumsy way, but it doesn't matter. Zuko lowers his head and kisses at Katara's neck again, this time with a fervent purpose. He sucks and nibbles at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, one hand coming to rest on her hip, and basks in the soft moans and needy mewls coming from her.
She presses back against him once more, and then she pushes him back. Zuko sits up immediately, blinking through the haze of lust clouding his mind. Did he go too far? His nerves begin to overtake him, but Katara merely twists under him so that she's on her back. Her hair fans out around her head like a dark halo; the sliver of light in the room manages to find her eyes, stripping the bright blue to a pale moonstone, and Zuko is struck by the sight beneath him.
And then she grabs his tunic and hauls him down, pressing her mouth to his in a demanding kiss.
Zuko responds eagerly. He presses against Katara, kissing her fiercely, careful not to put the full brunt of his weight on her. Katara pushes at his shoulders, digging into the fabric of his tunic.
"Too many clothes on," She breathes, tugging his tunic open.
Zuko can only grin like the idiot he is.
He sits up and shucks the clothing from his shoulders. Katara's gaze pins him into place, and he holds still to let her drink him in. The intensity in her eyes makes him feel suddenly shy; she's seen him shirtless before, but this - she has never traced her slender fingers down the length of his torso, has never looked at him as though she wants to devour every last inch of him - and he would let her, he would gladly let her eat him alive.
Her fingers dip into the waist of his pants and he inhales through his nose, gritting his teeth. The strain against his trousers is obvious, embarrassingly so, but she tugs him forward and crushes her mouth to his once more.
The fire in his blood flares high when she slides her tongue across his lower lip, slipping it into his mouth. Zuko moans, the sound soft and muffled by the kiss, and presses closer, aligning his torso with hers, and he swears he can feel her heart pounding in time with his.
There's a distant voice somewhere in his mind panicking about what's happening - isn't this sudden? What if someone hears them? Is he doing this right? He could be awful and ruin it completely - but then Katara's hands slide into his hair, tugging gently, and Zuko moans again, the voice completely washed away by the wave of want that courses through him.
His fingers skitter across her ribs, much closer to her thundering heart, and reach for the knot that keeps her bindings in place. "Too many clothes on," He mutters, and grins when her breathless laughter winds around him like a warm breeze.
Katara leans away a bit to unwind the fabric around her chest, and Zuko is struck suddenly by the fact that this is happening, that this is real. It's not one of the fantasies he's entertained for months and months and months; Katara is under him, Katara is touching him, Katara is undressing for him, and the realization hits him without mercy. He reaches out to help, fingers clumsy, and finally the wrappings fall away from her chest. Zuko skims his fingers down the curve of her breast, traces one finger unsteadily around a nipple, nail pressing into the edge of the sensitive flesh lightly. Katara inhales, arching a bit; the hardened peaks are dusky, a shade darker than her skin. His gaze travels, taking in the exposed length of her torso, studying the goose bumps along her abdomen.
Perfect.
Zuko leans in and kisses Katara again, unable to stay away from her mouth for long. Katara opens her legs around his hips, pressing hers up, and Zuko gasps at the contact. A flush spreads through him, along with a frisson of heat, and he groans and rocks his hips, sighing against her lips at the wonderful friction. Katara's hands glide down his back, squeezing his backside, and Zuko's hips jerk forward, thrusting against hers. Its her turn to gasp, the sound fading into a faint moan, running right to his very core.
Her fingers pull at his pants, pull until they start to slide down his hips, and Zuko jumps at the suddenly cool air around his hips and the top of his backside. He gets the hint, though, and lifts himself to shimmy out of his pants, pulling them off of his feet, pushing them down the bed to sit somewhere with his tunic. The flush on his face spreads down his neck and chest; he has never been so exposed before - has never shown so much of himself to one person. It's a nerve wracking experience.
But Katara gazes at him with round eyes, eyes full of wonder, full of desire, full of hunger. She has never been ashamed of going after what she wants, this he has learned. The embarrassment fades under the intensity of these things swirling in her eyes, a powerful current all their own. Her nimble fingers glide up his thighs and his cock jumps in response, eager to be touched, eager to be inside of her.
Katara watches Zuko as she begins to unravel the bindings around her hips and thighs. He tracks the movement of her fingers, gaze flickering to her face. There is a warm flush dusting her cheeks, but he can detect no hesitancy in her, not a single bit of regret in any of her movements.
She really wants him, and this knowledge alone makes his head spin.
Zuko reaches out, pulling the bindings away from Katara's hips when she is ready. She lifts her hips to oblige him, and the white material comes away to reveal even more smooth brown skin, a thick patch of dark curls at the apex of her thighs. Zuko drinks her in, hands sliding up Katara's thighs, thumbs pressing against the insides lightly. He looks up at her again as he slides his hands back down and parts her legs at the knees, leaning in to meet her once more.
His mouth ghosts along hers, and when their hips meet, a sharp jolt of pleasure shocks his veins. She is warm here, warmer than he could have ever imagined, and so very wet. An unsteady breath bursts from his lungs. Katara swallows it as she kisses him, as she presses her hips to his, rocking them lightly. Zuko moans into her mouth, wondering for a second if he'll come then and there; the friction is so much better without anything in the way.
Zuko pulls away, and Katara brushes his hair from his eyes. Her fingertips linger on the scarred part of his cheek. "Are you -" His voice disappears, swallowed by sudden anxiety. "Are you - sure?"
She watches him for a long moment. Despite the boldness she's shown him all evening, something shy flickers in Katara's eyes. She presses her lower lip between her teeth and nods. "Positive," Katara whispers. Her hand settles on the back of his neck, and she brings him down to her, offering a soft kiss to placate his nerves.
Zuko allows himself to relax into the kiss, to simply bask in the softness of Katara's mouth for a moment. When she breaks the kiss, she bites her lip again and nods once more. Zuko puffs his cheeks for a moment. He rests a hand on her thigh and reaches down to adjust himself, aligning the head of his cock with her entrance. His heart tumbles about, threatening to rip him apart with the force of its beat, and then he slides himself into her.
For several heartbeats, neither of them move. Zuko is utterly overwhelmed by the tight heat enveloping him, by the sheer pleasure that comes from this alone. He forces his eyes open to look at Katara, lifting a hand to sweep his fingers down her cheek.
"Is this - is it - okay?" He asks, voice quiet, ragged at the edges.
She swallows hard, releasing a shuddering breath, and nods. "Perfect," She whispers, and Zuko is sure that his heart is gone now, wrapped up in her hands.
He shifts gently, biting the inside of his cheek - Agni, no one had ever told him it felt this good - and braces his weight on his forearms, watching Katara, waiting. She wiggles under him, hips lifting slightly to meet his, and Zuko breathes steam, forces his eyes to the ceiling to hold himself in check.
They are clumsy, for a while. It's entirely new for the both of them; Zuko himself is worried that it's going horribly, horribly wrong, but then Katara tips her head back with a soft giggle, the sound breathless and pure, and he relaxes enough to dismiss the intrusive thoughts. She's no better at this than he is, he realizes. He leans down to kiss her, gliding his tongue along her lower lip, and decides to let instinct take over. No more thinking, no more worrying.
Katara sighs softly into his mouth. Her fingers slide into his hair once more, nails digging lightly into his scalp, and he picks up his pace a bit, encouraged by the way she tugs at his hair. He peppers hot kisses down her throat, breath fanning across her skin as he moves down. Under him, Katara whines, tugging at his hair again. Zuko continues his path. He rocks his hips into hers and drags his mouth down the valley between her breasts. His mouth closes around a nipple, and he shudders heavily when Katara gasps and arches into him, hips moving faster, the need for this pleasure beginning to eclipse all else.
Katara's thighs press against his hips, locking him in place between them, and Zuko grunts, thrusting faster still. He rolls her nipple between his teeth carefully, palming her other breast with his hand, letting go only to exhale breath of fire over her skin.
"Zuko," Katara breathes, voice thready with need. Her back arches off the bed, chest pressing to his. "Zuko, please-"
A low moan rumbles through his chest. He presses himself against her and kisses her hotly, deeply, overcome by sheer need. Katara winds an arm across Zuko's shoulders, holding him close to her; their heart beats mingle together in a frantic rhythm that refuses to slow down. Her eyes are wide, pupils dilated with lust, face flushed beautifully; her hair curls in the heat they've created, clinging to anything within its reach. She is wrecked, and she is utterly beautiful.
A familiar pressure begins to build inside of him. Zuko grunts quietly, pressing his face to the curve of Katara's neck. He drags his mouth across her flushed skin with each thrust, whispering encouragements to her, senseless praises about how wonderful and how utterly perfect she is.
Katara clutches at his neck and his shoulder. Her spine bows, and she squirms under him, breath coming faster - he knows she is close. Zuko pushes himself up on one hand and watches Katara, wanting desperately to watch her come undone under him, around him, because of him. Her gaze locks with his, and in her eyes a storm thrashes about, building and building and building -
his only warning is a loud gasp. Zuko drops his head and covers Katara's mouth with his, muffling her cries of pleasure as best he can when she comes. She clenches around him, tight and hot and wet, clawing at his back, and that's all he needs to follow her over the edge. Zuko grunts into her mouth, his own back arching as he rides the crest of his orgasm until the wave dies down. When it does, he collapses on Katara's chest, ear pressed to her lungs; she is trembling, just like he is.
It feels like they spend hours laying like this, tangled up together, sweaty and spent. Eventually, Zuko pushes himself onto shaking arms and pulls out gingerly, hissing at the sensitivity of it all. Katara whines softly and draws her legs shut as Zuko falls onto the bed beside her. Her hair is a wild mess of curls, face still flushed. Her lips are swollen; there is a vibrant red mark in the area where her neck meets her shoulder. He's never seen a more beautiful sight.
From the corner of her eye Katara peaks at him. She watches him like this for a moment, looking shy suddenly, and then she turns away with a peal of giggles. Zuko blinks, watching Katara curl onto her side. Her laughter is muffled by the pillow under her head.
After a moment, it catches up to him too, and he buries his head in his arm to hide his own laughter.
That really just happened.
Thousands of fantasies had finally come true and not a single one of them compared to the real deal.
Zuko reaches out and pulls Katara to him by her waist. She squeaks, but she turns over to face him, biting her lip endearingly. He pries her hair from her face and moves it from her neck and shoulders, draping it over the pillow she lays on. Her own fingers are hesitant where they rest over his heart, examining the pace of it.
"Soooo..." Zuko says, drawing out the word, and it's all Katara needs to burst into another fit of laughter. He grins, feeling utterly enamored, and continues, "I think that was a great way of relaxing us both. We should do it more often."
Katara covers her face with her hands, trying in vain to quiet her laughter. Warmth bubbles inside of Zuko, settling like a blanket over the lust fading out in his system. He nudges his nose against Katara's until she lifts her head and kisses her softly, tenderly. He's answered with a happy sigh. Her hand runs along his arm as she kisses him back, settling over his waist.
Zuko pulls the blanket up over their waists, covering them partially as Katara begins to drift off. He watches her, stroking her hair, and sighs contentedly. He knows he shouldn't fall asleep here, but he'll worry about sneaking out later. Right now, he's perfectly happy with the risk he's taking.
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The sun has barely risen when Zuko slips from Katara's room, adjusting his tunic.
It was harder than he thought it would be to leave her; the peace on her face while she slept and the way her little hands were locked around his arm had been compelling enough reasons to stay. But he'd pulled himself away in the end, not quite ready to face the reactions of their friends.
Zuko shuts the door quietly behind him -
and turns to find Suki staring at him from the end of the hall.
He freezes in place, his good eye the size of a gold coin.
Suki's eyes are wide as well. She points at him, mouth opening in shock -
and then it closes as a slow grin crawls across her face.
Zuko's shoulders slump. Doomed. He is utterly, utterly doomed.
When he looks up, Suki beckons him closer. She crosses her arms, tilting her head to look him over. "I take it you slept well," She teases, grin widening.
Zuko groans and presses his hands to his face. He drags them down, peeking at Suki between his fingers. "Please don't tell everyone else, especially Sokka-"
"Relax, I'm not telling anyone." Suki waves a hand, taking Zuko by the shoulder to push him down the hall, leading him to the kitchen. "I've been waiting for something to happen between you two for weeks now."
Zuko blushes furiously. He stumbles over his feet, glancing up at Suki with wide eyes once again. She simply yawns, moving away from him to root around in the kitchen.
"Besides, Toph is the one you have to worry about."
Zuko freezes in the process of pulling out a chair to sit in. He looks at Suki, eyes narrowed, and sits down slowly.
"Okay. What's the best way to bribe a sneaky twelve year old?"