Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Tara, baby, please.”

She felt like she’d been shot.

The woman, whatever her name was, had already scrambled from the bedroom with whatever clothing she'd been able to find. The door had slammed. Katara assumed she was on the other side of it. She had probably been as shocked as Katara if her calls of ‘I didn’t know!’ had been anything to go by.

There was a ringing in her ear that had reached near deafening levels when Jet’s hand made contact with her arm. She jerked away from him, her features scrunching up. Her heart was in her throat, her voice straining to get around it.

“Do not touch me.”

Why had she agreed to move in? She never should have moved in. For four years they’d been just fine living in separate spaces. Maybe it was for the best. How long had this been the norm, how long would it have continued before she’d found out? If she’d ever found out.

Where was she supposed to go now?

“Tara, please, let me explain!”

She’d go to her brother. Sokka had his own place - well, he had roommates. But it was nearby. Near enough to drive to. Closer than home. She didn’t want to go crying to her dad anyways. He’d never liked Jet. She was too stubborn to admit that he’d been right, not so soon after. One blow to her ego at a time was all she could handle.

“Explain what?” Blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I think we’re beyond explanations. This seems pretty obvious to me.”

The mystery girl had left her panties. Probably because they were at Katara’s feet, abandoned on the rug in an earlier haste, forgotten in another. Katara hadn’t even been at the gym long. She wasn’t teaching any classes there right now, hadn’t for nearly a month, surely Jet remembered that? Though, maybe not. She clearly wasn’t at the forefront of his mind. Remembering that particular detail had probably been too much.

He looked so pitiful, sharp brows scrunched up and downturned, mouth pulled down at the corners in a deeper frown than he usually sported. “Baby, please. I love you.”

No he didn’t, clearly he didn’t. How could he say that? How could he look her in her face and lie? She closed her eyes. She would not cry. Not now, not in front of him.

“Please leave so I can pack.”

“No. No, I’m not leaving until you let me explain Talk to me. Don’t go.”

She sighed. More of a huff really, not so much a sigh. “Fine, fine.” Katara threw her hands up in resignation, “I’ll just leave then. Don’t call me, don’t reach out to me. We’re done. I’m done.”

Jet tried to trap her there, moved to go in front of her before she made it to the door. She wasn’t gentle in pushing past him before he got the chance to stop her.

“Leave me alone, Jet. I’m being so serious. I don’t want anything to do with you. Not right now, probably not ever.” Everything was said quickly before she slammed the door behind her. She was already down the stairs and halfway to her car when Jet came out behind her.

“Tara, wait!”

The only response he received was her middle finger before she sped off.

Katara drove for nearly eight hours, stopping only once for gas. Her music was playing at a near deafening volume, only the Girl-Bossiest of girl boss songs she could find. Anything she could sing along to until her voice was strained would have worked, really. By the time she got past the toll bridge to Ba Sing Se the sun was setting. Sokka would already be at work. She hated to bother him, she knew he’d worry. But Katara really didn’t want to drop the money it would take for her to get a hotel for the night - she only had so much in savings and really didn’t want to start off her breakup by blowing it all on the first day.

Her phone’s GPS had taken her to the lot across the street from the club that her brother worked at, but there were no spaces to be seen. This didn’t come as a surprise. If the line outside of the club had been an indication it was a busy night. It was a Friday night, and the Dancing Dragon was known to be one of the hottest spots Ba Sing Se had to offer. It’d only been open for three years and already it had garnered quite the reputation.

She had to drive two blocks down to find parking. Katara thanked her lucky stars that there were enough streetlights to illuminate her entire walk, but it didn’t help stifle her annoyance when a drunkard standing outside of a bar called out and invited her to join his group.

With a roll of her eyes, she continued forward. But she wouldn’t pretend to not be grateful not to have anyone else yell at her while she walked, even if the single instance had been enough to sour her already foul mood. When the line of potential nightclub patrons finally appeared, she hurried past them. A few of them seemed to have resigned themselves to making the party where they stood, playing music from their phones and taking photos where they were. The bouncer at the front wasn’t letting anyone by the velvet rope, and when she appeared next to him he held out a hand to stop her advance.

“Woah, woah, back of the line.” He did a once over of her outfit, like that would also have a bearing of her getting into the club. It probably would have - didn’t they usually have dress codes? She’d never been to a real club before. There weren’t any in the city she’d lived in before, instead it had been filled with micro breweries and wine bars. But she had never really been much for partying anyways. She was the delegated Mom Friend, so she’d been stuck as the designation driver pretty much every time she went to the bar. Her gym outfit probably wasn’t doing her any favors for getting into the club, then.

“No, listen— my brother is the bartender. I just need to talk to him for a second.” She’d tried calling, but it’d gone straight to voicemail.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Back of the line.”

“Dude, please. It’s kind of an emergency. Can’t you call him?”

“Listen, we’re at capacity—“

“What’s going on, Chit Sang?” Someone had stepped out of the door behind the bouncer.

“This girl’s saying—“

“Sokka, the bartender inside. He’s my brother, I need to talk to him.” Chit Sang glared at her for the second interruption.

The guy who’d stepped out looked her over, “You’re Katara?”

Her face brightened. “Yes! Yes, I’m Katara!”

He gestured towards the door, “This way.”

A few people in line booed, complaints at not being allowed in rang out before being silenced by the sudden blast of music when they stepped through the doors.

“He’s over there,” He pointed towards the bar which was situated perfectly in the center of the floor. A large oval shaped area split down the middle by a mirror-backed wall of glasses and bottles She saw her brother working alongside a woman to rapidly make drinks for the needy patrons.

Katara beelined for him, pushing through the crowd to the front of the bar. It took a moment, but when Sokka noticed her he said something to the woman beside him and finished making the drink he was working on before he ran over to her side.

“Kat! What are you doing here?” He had to yell to be heard over the music.

Katara leaned over the bar to be heard better. “I don’t want to hold you up, it’s a long story and I’ll tell it later. But hey, listen, can I stay with you for a few days?”

Sokka looked confused but he nodded anyways, “Yeah, of course. Here,” He pulled out his wallet and handed over a key card, and then his actual keys. “Take the back elevators up to the fourth floor. The card’s for the elevator. My room is the second one on the left.” He started to turn away but paused for a second. “You okay, Kat?”

“Just perfect, Sokka. I’ll see you when you get off.”

—

The apartment was surprisingly clean for a space shared by three men.

Katara had never met her brother’s roommates, but she knew the building was owned by Sokka’s boss. That was Zuko, the third roommate being Sokka’s fellow bartender Aang. Supposedly the three of them were the best of friends. Katara had never seen a picture of any of them, and for the two years Sokka had been living in Ba Sing Se, Katara hadn’t visited. They’d meet each other halfway sometimes, but they mostly just saw each other when they both went back to the Southern Water Tribe for holidays and special events.

The space was large. Open concept and beautifully decorated. She wondered if they’d done it themselves or if a professional had had a hand in it. A dim light that had been left on illuminated enough of the space that she could see the living room with its large suede couch and fluffy white rug. There was artwork on the walls, diverse pieces with matching color schemes though she couldn’t make out all of the subjects. The kitchen was against one wall, the island separating the two spaces was the only place where she saw any clutter. A laptop, some mail, a half drank water bottle. But otherwise nothing seemed out of place.

She could hardly hear the music beneath her, but if she stood really still she could feel the slight vibrations of it. Massive windows overlooked the nearby buildings. The lights from nearby complexes cast a shadowy glow inside. For a moment, Katara held still. Aside from the buzz beneath her feet and the occasional honk or raised voice from outside, it was silent. Too silent.

The next breath she took felt like a suckerpunch.

She made it to the hallway before her eyes started to burn. Shallow, rapid breaths scraped her throat. Which room had he said was his? The second one on the right or left? Katara went right. But when she scrambled for the doorknob and it didn’t budge, an involuntary sob escaped. She let her forehead hit the wood of the door and took several deep breaths.

Katara didn’t want to cry over Jet. She didn’t want to breakdown because of him. Five years had already been wasted, spending twenty more minutes on it would suck.

Katara turned on her heel and tried the door to the left. That one opened with ease. She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her zippered jacket. Her brother’s room was comfortably familiar. Even though it was none of the same furniture, she recognized Sokka in it all the same. A dark unmade comforter lay rumpled atop an unmade bed, the laundry strewn about nearly tripping her immediately. Clearly it was not his own will which kept the rest of the house clean. A fact she remembered well from her childhood. Briefly, when they were at their youngest, they’d shared a nursery. She’d been the one picking up after him then, too. Katara wasn’t even particularly neat, so she didn’t understand the impulse at all.

A lamp, once turned on, illuminated most of the room's furnishings. It was a good sized space, neither small nor large, but had been filled near to bursting with her brother’s things. A guitar she knew he couldn’t play but that had been covered in a variety of stickers sat leaned against a bedside table littered with water bottles.

“So wasteful,” She clucked, then turned her attention back to the desk. It, like the rest of the room, was messy. Four well-read books sat stacked on one corner. A receipt was wedged between the pages of one like a bookmark. Two framed photographs were set on the opposite end, just under the lamp. The first she recognized: a photograph of them at her college graduation the year prior. She’s in her cap and gown, her regalia hardly visible beneath the plain green fabric. They’re both smiling massively, their arms full of bouquets. The other photo was of her parents. It’s old and faded, there's a distinct white line across one corner where it had previously been bent when shoved into a photo box. Back before anyone realized how precious the photo would later become. A different kind of sadness wiggled in beneath her breast.

Katara dropped her purse on the desk and fished out her phone. She’d had a charger with her in her car, but she’d left her gym bag and the charger along with it in her backseat. For now, she plugged it into her brothers and left it on his bed. One hundred and twenty seven unread messages from Jet stared back at her when the screen briefly illuminated. She should have blocked him. She could have blocked him right then.

She didn’t.

There was a jingling noise in the hallway. Curiosity drew her away from her phone and towards the door. She poked her head out just in time to see the source of the noise.

“Oh! It’s you.”

He was easily recognizable, even from behind. The guy who’d gotten her into the club had been tall and broad. Guys who looked that good in suits didn’t come around often. Even his top knot was recognizable.

He turned, her eyes locked first with his tie. Also distinctive, though she didn’t remember seeing it earlier. Red silk decorated with little blue rabbits. Who wore a tie to the club? Her eyes skirted further up, past the wide, well shaped mouth and the nose with its just barely discernible bump in the bridge. Then she met his eyes, golden near to glowing in the dark, one pulled tight by a scar that stretched from his nose to his ear. She’d seen his face before, down in the harsh streetlights, but she hadn’t had the chance to really study him.

“It is me. Hi.” He lifted his hand as if to wave. His voice had a deep smoky quality that should be menacing.

“Hi.” She waved back, even if it did seem a little strange in the privacy of the house. “So. Which one are you? Aang, or Zuko?”

He laughed, a short bark that seemed involuntary, and then cleared his throat. “Not Aang. Sorry, it’s not funny. Just… Aang’s an Air Nomad. And possibly the complete opposite of me. You’ll see… Sokka said that you’re staying here for a few, ah, a few days?” He stumbled over his words. This he found annoying. He was a fairly confident man, he’d thought. He had been awkward as a teenager, but that wasn’t a problem for him now. Rather, it hadn’t been a problem for him. He was going to have to do something about that.

It made sense that he was Zuko. Her brother’s boss, the owner of this building. He had a tough guy nightclub owner look to him. It also explained the tie.

“Yeah. If you don’t mind. Something unexpected happened and I needed to get the hell out of dodge. It’ll only be a few days then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Of course not. Stay as long as you’d like. Please, it's no rush on my part.”

“Thanks.”

A curt nod. “Of course, if you need anything, let me know. I come and go a lot, so here,” Zuko fished in his pocket for a slim leather wallet and pulled out a black business card embossed with the Dancing Dragon’s logo and his name and reachable phone numbers. “Just a sec.” Zuko scribbled something on the back of his card. “That's my personal number. If I’m not home you can reach me there.”

He handed it over to her and she accepted it with whispered thanks, then he started to turn back to his now opened bedroom door.

“Hey, Zuko.”

“Yeah?”

“Are there any spare towels?”

“They’re in the linen closet in the bathroom.” He started to turn away again.

“Okay, thanks. Oh, and also…”

“Yeah?”

“Where exactly is the bathroom?”

“Right. Sorry. Uhm, it’s the last door down here.” He pointed to the door at the back end of the hall. “Laundry room is through the door by the kitchen,” He gestured back to where the living room and kitchen was. “Help yourself to anything here. Do whatever you need to do to feel comfortable.”

She gave a mindless little bounce and his eyes flickered for a moment. “I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” The door was nearly completely closed behind him when he turned back suddenly. “Oh, one more thing. This room, here,” He pointed to the one to the left of his, “That's a spare bedroom. If you wanted to set up shop there. Not shop, I mean, you wouldn’t be selling anything so not technically a — there's a bed. You can sleep in it.” If she could see him better she’d be able to see the blush that had bloomed across his skin. She didn’t get to say thanks before he’d disappeared into his own room.

Katara took one of Sokka’s few clean shirts and went to the bathroom. She took a quick shower, bypassing the three-in-one shampoo she figured belonged to her brother. She’d washed her hair after the gym earlier anyways, but she’d felt icky after eight hours stewing in her car on the way over. It was nice to wash the day away, the water sluicing thoughts of Jet down the drain. She figured she’d wait in Sokka’s room until he was off before she went to the guest room that Zuko had offered up to her.

By the time Sokka had come home, she was fast asleep on top of his comforter.

Chapter Text

Black out curtains were terrible for Katara’s already horrible inability to wake up. According to the blinking digital clock across the room, it was noon. According to her phone, it was a little closer to two in the afternoon. Her phone, which had been pulled from the charger and left beside a new phone on the table. She shifted groggily, shoving her fists against her eyes in an attempt to drive away the bleariness that had settled in after hours of solid rest.

When Katara rolled over she found herself face-to-foot with Sokka’s socks. That was enough to ruin her desire to go back to sleep.

She nudged the feet. “Sokka?”

Nothing.

Katara nudged him again. “Hey. Psst. Sokka.” This time she added a little poke to the ribs with her toe. Her only response was a snore.

With a deep sigh, Katara extracted herself from the bed. She grabbed her phone before she tiptoed out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. While she relieved her overfull bladder she checked her phone.

Two hundred and twenty one missed texts. All from Jet.

She really regretted not blocking his number.

Katara didn’t waste time reading through them. The poor phone was already chugging along slowly because of the weight of all those messages. From what she saw, they were nothing she needed to see anyways. Simpering paragraph after paragraph begging for forgiveness and understanding and the chance to explain. What could he possibly want to explain? Thankfully her curiosity didn’t force her to dwell on that for too long. Instead she deleted the chat completely, though it did take a moment for it to disappear from her screen. But afterwards her phone was like a whole new thing, moving at its regular pace again.

After she was done, she did her best to wash away the sleep from her mouth with a flosser and some mouthwash. She was going to have to buy a new toothbrush. She was going to have to buy a lot of things. That was annoying. At some point, Katara figured she’d need to convince Sokka to accompany her on the eight hour trip back to the house she’d shared with Jet so she could pack up what she could and disappear completely from his life.

The scent of food being cooked and the familiar sizzle of oil in a hot pan had filled the hall when she left the bathroom. She followed her stomach towards its source, finding a lanky man in a beanie and faded yellow t-shirt before the stove.

“Sokka! Breakfast is almost ready,” He called without looking back, having heard her footsteps over.

Katara leaned against the island counter behind him, curling her toes against the chilly floors. “Sokka’s still asleep.”

The beanie clad man turned to look at her while sporting what may possibly have been the broadest of smiles she’d ever seen. “Katara! It’s Katara, right?”

Nice to know her brother talked about her. “Indeed, hi! You’re Aang, then?” She saw why Zuko had laughed. Aang was his aesthetic antithesis. He looked like a daffodil, all bright and springy in his yellow shirt and rolled up khaki pants. She could see now that his shirt was embroidered, just three little flowers blooming across his chest.

“Yep!” He stuck his hand out for a shake. “It’s cool that you’re staying with us. I was starting to think you didn’t actually exist and that Sokka was making you up. He even showed me photos to prove it, but to be honest I figured they were photoshopped or fake or something. You’re a lot prettier than Sokka.”

Katara laughed, “Yeah? Thanks. Most people think we look just alike.” She gestured with her chin to the pans behind him. “Are two p.m. breakfasts the norm around here?”

He nodded. “The whole house operates on a night-time schedule. We’re never up before noon and thats early for us.” Aang explained. “Except for Zuko. He is not a nightowl. At all. Kinda weird for a guy who owns a club but I guess the perk of owning it is that you hire someone else to do the managing of it and you can just be there when you want to be there.”

“Who manages it?”

“A guy named Jee. Scary dude, but you should hear him on Karaoke night.”

“What do you do there?”

“I’m a bartender, too. I usually work on the other side of the bar from Sokka.” He turned back to his cooking. “Help yourself to this, by the way. I don’t really understand portion control so I always make way too much…” Already next to him there was a hefty stack of pancakes, upon which he piled more on.

She heard the heavy footsteps coming down the hall just before she heard her brother’s groggy voice. “Good morning, gang.”

“Morning Sokka. Pancakes are done.”

“Sweet… Did you make any coffee?”

“No, I didn’t make any coffee.”

“Did you make any bacon?”

“Of course I didn’t make bacon.”

“You just made pancakes?”

Aang turned around, steaming pan in his hand. “What else do you need?”

“Meat!” Then with an over dramatic growl he stomped over to the fridge and pulled out a slab of bacon.

The sink in the kitchen was built into the island counter, so when Aang started to hastily wash a still-hot pan, the soap and water sizzling while he did it, he was standing right in front of her. “I’m a vegetarian.” Aang said. “I don’t cook meat.”

“Ah. Well, Sokka’s a baby. You cooked for him, now he’s gonna angry-toddler you about it ‘til you die.”

“I resent that!” Sokka glared back at her, arranging a few pieces of the bacon in a pan. It was true though, Katara had spoiled Sokka when they’d lived together. But it was a good sign if he was close enough with his roommates to be so annoying around them.

Once the bacon was sizzling on the stove top, Sokka grabbed a mug and moved over to the coffee pot. Katara watched closely, trying to glean where everything in the kitchen was without having to be snoopy later. “Hey, I thought you said you didn't make any coffee?”

“I didn’t,” Aang had taken a seat in one of the barstools, his pancakes drowned in a purple-ish syrup. “That must be what Zuko made.”

“Euch,” he stuck his tongue out at the thought, but with a resolute shrug he filled his mug with it anyways.

“Why ‘euch’? Does he suck at making coffee or something?” Was she asking too many questions about Zuko? Was it suspicious? If so, no one commented on it.

“He makes it at like seven a.m. And it’s always strong as hell. Like, ‘drink two cups and your heart stops’ strong.” He put the mug in the microwave. “Aang’s is decaf. Terrible for different reasons.”

“I can’t drink caffeinated coffee without quite literally climbing the walls.”

With a laugh, Katara finally made her plate and joined him at the counter. Sokka followed shortly after, his plate piled with bacon and pancakes alike, squeezing in between her and Aang. While Sokka was distracted, Katara snatched a piece of bacon from his plate.

“Hey! Get your own!” He yelled around a mouthful of pancake.

“It won’t taste as good if I make it myself.” She shrugged.

“Tsk. Mm. Gimme your phone,” He motioned with sticky fingers, then wiped them on a napkin before motioning again.

“Why?” She asked, but was already passing him her phone.

“There's an app that’ll let you get in and out. So I don’t have to keep giving you my keycard.” He swiped around for a second, but then his face scrunched up, “Jet keeps messaging you on Cabbage. Like back to back.”

Her face went up in flames. She’d not even thought about Cabbage when she blocked Jet’s phone number. Katara had hardly used the photo sharing app recently. She figured she’d have to go through and delete a lot of pictures from it soon.

“We broke up.”

“What happened?”

Katara bit her bottom lip, “Will you walk with me to my car so I can get my bag?”

“Yeah. Of course.” They hadn’t finished eating, but Sokka stood up anyway.

He lead her out a different way than he’d come, down a stairwell that opened up to the outside. Sokka said he’d get her a key for the stairwell door so she didn’t have to go in and out through the club if she needed to go anywhere.

“I’m only going to be here for a few days,” She reminded him.

“Well. Stay at least until you get a job. Or however long… we have an extra room. The guys won’t mind.”

“Aang seems pretty nice. So does Zuko.” She was definitely not blushing.

Sokka nodded in agreement. Then, “You met him?”

“He got me into the club when the bouncer wouldn’t let me by.”

“Chit Sang. That’s why Zuko was railing on him after work.”

Katara frowned. She hadn’t meant to get anyone in trouble.

“Jet cheated on me.”

A tic started up in her brother’s jaw. “Do you want me to kill him?”

“Not particularly. But I appreciate the offer… That’s why he keeps messaging me, though. When I found out I just… left. All my stuff is still at his place. Well. Most of it. I have a few things in my car. I guess I need to reach out and figure out when I can go get it all.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have—“

“You’re my sister, Kat. I’m going with you. And if he even looks at you sideways, I’ll kick his ass.”

“I’m perfectly capable of kicking his ass myself.”

He gave her a knowing smile and tucked her under his arm. They walked like this the rest of the way, and when they got to her car he had her drive it to park in the private lot behind the building. It was gravel filled but well maintained, and there were four other cars in the lot already. She only recognized Sokka’s two door truck. His baby — dark blue and perfectly shiny, the SWT decal in the back window a familiar identifier.

Beside it was a motorcycle, “Who’s bike?”

“You like it?” He gave her a proud grin and walked over to it, the gravel crunching under his feet. “It’s mine. I bought it after last year's Winter Solstice as a treat to myself.”

“That’s quite the treat. It’s nice. You’ll have to let me drive it some time.”

“Hell to the no. But I’ll give you a ride, I guess. If you’re nice to me.”

“I’ll pass.” She rolled her eyes. “Those ones are nicer.”

“Those are Z’s.” One was a sports car, with all the traditional sports car trappings. Sleek, obnoxious, and cherry red. The other looked like it belonged in a motorcade, massive and black with its tinted windows. She’d put money down that they both smelled new on the inside.

“Why does he live with you guys if he has all this money.”

“No, no, sister. We live with him. Important distinction. Personally, I think he’d just be lonely living alone. Besides, don’t rich people usually have hanger-ons living with them?”

“You’re Zuko’s groupies?”

“Basically.”

—

Sokka had been gone for two hours when Aang told her he had to go pick up Appa, the massive forest cat he’d been happy to show Katara pictures of, from his pet groomer-slash-girlfriend Meng. Left up to her own devices, Katara had decided to start a load of laundry.

Well, half a load. Sort of. She was washing everything that had been in her gym bag. Thankfully it’d been her big one, the one she considered a black hole of abandoned work out clothes. So inside she’d had three pairs of socks, two pairs of bike shorts, a sports bra, a regular bra, four shirts, a pair of leggings, and the outfit that she’d never changed back into the day she’d left Jet. It seemed like enough to last her until she was able to get the rest of her clothes back.

The front door opened and Katara stepped out of the laundry room, thinking it was her brother. Apparently Sokka had taken up coaching a basketball team at the youth center nearby a few afternoons a week, and today was one of those days.

“Hey, I’m doing some laundry but I don’t have a full load. Do you have anything you want me to put in?” But it wasn’t Sokka standing in the kitchen. Zuko was there instead, holding a crumpled white bag in his hand.

“No, but thank you.” She wouldn’t correct his assumption that she hadn’t misspoke. She’d have done his laundry if he’d wanted. Actually, Katara felt a little niggling of disappointment that she wasn’t going to get the chance to wash his shirts.

Speaking of shirts, looking at him now in his faded tee-shirt, Katara could see what she’d missed the night before. Zuko had tattoos - full sleeves on both arms done in a traditional Fire Nation style. A desire to explore them, to learn their designs, hit her with the full force of a freight train.

“A-are you sure? It feels wasteful to start the load now.”

“Why don’t you wait until you have more dirty clothes to wash them, then?”

“Well, this is the only thing I have left.” She tugged on the hem of her brother’s too long shirt, which she was wearing over a pair of bike shorts that she’d decided were Clean Enough.

Zuko looked her over with a slight frown, though she was fairly certain she saw a faint hint of a blush strike up at his collar and start to crawl up his throat.

“That won’t do, will it?”

“Well it’s really only a problem for like an hour or two. I had some exercise clothes in my car, they should last me until I can get my stuff back from Jet.”

“Jet?”

“My ex. We broke up, that's why I’m here.”

He said something quick under his breath, then looked her over again. “Let me take you shopping.”

“Huh? No, no, it’s fine. I’m good I don’t need you to-“ Her voice died out when she saw how he was looking at her, his golden eyes very stern, his jaw set and unyielding. Like whatever she was saying was going to get her reprimanded.

“I know you don’t need me to. I’m asking. Let me take care of it. What if you get a job interview? You’ll need something for that.”

She supposed he was true. And it was impolite to decline someone's assistance, or so she’d been taught. “Okay. Yeah. Sure, I’ll go shopping with you. Just give me a moment, please?” Katara wanted to ensure she didn’t look completely out of place next to him, though she was sure there was only so much she could do.

She raced to the bathroom, combing through her thick tresses and quickly pulling it up into a pony tail. There wasn’t much she could do about her outfit, though she did change, but the addition of her smart watch and a necklace made her look like she’d at least put her clothes on purposefully and not just like they were her brother’s. The oversized shirt she found in her brothers closet was a deep red and boasted ‘Caldera University’ in bold yellow lettering. It must have been thrifted, since she and Sokka had both gone to Bei Fong College, but it hung down past her butt and covered most of the too-tight bike shorts she wore underneath, and that was all she cared about.

It also smelled good, but that was neither here nor there.

Once she put on the mascara that held a permanent residency in her purse and her tube socks and tennis shoes, she actually looked like it was an outfit that she’d want to wear, and less like pajamas.

Dressed, she went back to join Zuko. He was sitting in one of the bar stools, facing out towards her and leaning back to prop against the countertop. His head was down, tapping away at something on his phone. When he looked up at her his brow furrowed.

“Where did you get that shirt?”

“My brother’s closet.”

Zuko gave a knowing nod with just the slightest hint of a frown. “It looks good on you.”

Katara smiled brightly, bouncing on her toes a little. “Thanks!”

Zuko’s frown flipped, “You ready?”

“Yeah. I’m not familiar with the city though, so I’m following your lead.”

He just nodded, then took her out the backway and into the gravel lot where the cars were housed. With the press of a keyfob button the obnoxious red car beeped and the locks disengaged, then he was opening the door for her. She slid in awkwardly, like she was going to damage the leather interior if she moved wrong.

She’d been right. It did smell like a new car inside.

Zuko got in beside her and the car roared to life, music suddenly pouring out of the speakers. He turned it off almost immediately, but she’d heard it.

“Who listens to jazz while they drive?”

“Me. I do. Its soothing.”

“Hm.” There was a teasing smile on her face, which he caught a glimpse of before he pulled out and started off down the road.

“What do you listen to?”

“I dunno. Rap.”

“Rap?”

“Yeah.” She looked him up and down. “Got a problem with that.”

“No. You’re just a lot like your brother. Rap music while you drive, and you’re a shirt thief.”

“It doesn’t count, it’s my brothers shirt.”

“Actually, it’s mine. I should have questioned it. Sokka said he liked that shirt two months ago, and then I never saw it again.” There was a cheeky look on his face, like he was trying not to laugh at her. “I should have investigated.”

“It’s yours!” The blush that rushed up her body made her feel woozy. “Oh tui and la, I’m sorry. I’ll give it back.”

“No, don’t worry about it. You should keep it, actually. It looks better on you.” And then he winked - actually winked - at her. In the daylight, he was much more suave than he was at night time.

They drove in complete silence for a while, him leading the way while Katara played with the him of her - of Zuko’s - shirt.

“I like your tattoos.” She commented.

“Yeah? Thank you. I’ve had them so long, sometimes I forget about them. I got them done a long time ago, back when my friend Mai was first opening up her tattoo shop.” He glanced at her quickly. “Do you have any tattoos?”

“Not a one. But I want one someday. I think they look…” Sexy. “Cool.”

“You should get one. Mai’ll do it, if you want. Its where Sokka got his.” She recalled her brother’s half sleeve, the very basic treeline and wolf’s head combination that suited him despite its popularity. “If you want. I can give you her number. Or the shops email. Or whatever.”

“I’d like that.”

They went to an outdoor mall, and Zuko seemed to know all of the good stores. She refused to buy much on his dime, but he was generous. Even when she made him sit outside of the dressing rooms and judge outfits she tried on.

She stuck to things she knew she’d wear, but nothing similar to stuff she owned already. Sundresses were her poison of choice. Katara had always preferred their versatility.

Zuko insisted her carry her bags. She was achingly aware of how much like a couple they looked like, him keeping close to her, paying for everything she expressed interest in. He even picked out a dress for Katara in one of the stores. A nearly floor length body con dress the same color as the shirt she wore. It wasn’t a color she normally reached for, but it was one that Katara looked good in.

When she tried it on, she almost got too embarrassed to show him. They weren’t joking when they said it was body con. It clung to every inch of her body, accentuating every curve and contour she had.

Katara stepped out of the dressing room.

“How do I look?”

He stared at her in silence for a while before he finally spoke. “Incredible.”

“Yeah? You don’t think its too…” She pinched the fabric at her waist and let it snap back into place. “Tight?”

“No, no but if you do—“

“No. I like it. I just. I’ve never worn anything like this before. It’s different. Good different.”

By the time they were done and headed back to the house, Katara had found herself on the receiving end of way too many clothes. It was a bit overwhelming, once all the bags were loaded into the car and then unloaded again when they were back.

Aang was home by the time they walked inside, at least he seemed to be judging by the blast of indie rock coming from his room, but Sokka hadn’t returned yet. Zuko helped Katara put the bags into the room that he’d offered to her, but she denied his help in tidying everything away.

Outside of the room, Katara stopped Zuko from walking away with a gentle grip on his arm.

“Look, about today. I want to pay you back once I get a job. Please, let me know how much it all was so I can make a note.”

“You don’t have to pay me back, Katara.”

“But I’d like to. This is too generous, Zuko. There aren’t enough thanks in the world.”

He stepped close to her, putting his hands on her biceps and giving a subtle squeeze. “Katara. Don’t worry about it. I’m serious. I’m sure you’ll get the chance to make it up to me.”

Chapter Text

Zuko hadn’t stopped thinking about Katara since he’d taken her shopping.

It was ridiculous.

He closed his eyes and there she was, wearing his tee-shirt, her legs long and dark and completely bare to him. She hadn’t known it was his shirt, but it didn’t negate anything. Zuko wondered if she’d let him give her his entire wardrobe. He’d sacrifice a lot of personal freedoms to see her dressed in naught but his oversized shirts in the future.

His mind's eye was filled with images of her trying on clothes for him, that red dress seared into his brain. There’d be no complaints from him, but there was a certain guilt that came from it.

If Sokka ever found out, Zuko was a dead man. In fact, Sokka had taken on a murderous, suspicious look when he’d come home and saw Katara wearing his shirt. Of course, the look had turned apologetic when Zuko pointed out that the only reason she had it was because Sokka had previously stolen it from his laundry.

But Sokka had warned them all long before Katara had ever come to stay with them that a stray glance in her direction was a death wish. The man was protective of his family, and Zuko didn’t blame him. Zuko didn’t even know the full story and he still wanted to kick her exes ass, he couldn’t imagine how Sokka felt.

That night, he’d found her on the Cabbage app and realized she’d already followed him. He hadn’t noticed because he hated the app on most days - he had amassed a large following because of particular connections and media coverage, and didn’t delete it because it was good for business, but he hated the attention it otherwise brought. Moreso, he despised the expectation that he post photos, that he be accessible to strangers. So, with notifications turned off, he hadn’t noticed that Katara had followed him.

Her account was private. He’d waited impatiently for her to accept his request, and saw she had while he was working. It was close to two in the morning. Zuko squared away that she was a night owl, the opposite of him. Even two was pushing it. Usually, he was there from the opening of the club at seven in the evening until about midnight. But today, Ty Lee had ‘called out sick’ — meaning Azula and Mai had stolen her away for an impromptu vacation. Which meant Zuko was playing bartender so that Suki could cover her tables.

Afterwards, when the bar was shut down for the night and they’d cleared out the patrons, they’d all shuffled home. Zuko the sleepiest among them. But when he’d fallen into bed and remembered that she’d followed him, he immediately went to her account. The first thing he noticed was that she didn’t feel the same way as him about pictures. The second was how many of them contained her ex, Jet. He’d have to remember to have someone look into him when he was fully conscious.

He lingered on the photos of her alone. Mirror selfies, full body shots that showed off her outfits. A lot of them were of her at the beach, or hiking, a few were of her at the gym. It explained the definition in her arms, the sturdiness in her thighs. Apparently, Katara was a surfer, an avid swimmer, and she owned her own kayak. She seemed interested in anything involving the ocean. His particular favorites were the ones of her surrounded by snow, wearing a fur lined parka, her nose and cheeks pinkened by the cold.

There were too many of her and this Jet fellow. He wondered if she intended a reunion with him.

This was ridiculous. Zuko was a grown man. He shouldn’t be getting butterflies in his stomach over his friend and roommate’s sister. He shouldn’t have something as puerile as a crush.

Zuko put his phone down and willed himself to sleep.

It was not restful in the slightest. He was awake by ten, much later in the day than usual but still his normal five hours of sleep. It offset his entire routine, though.

His meditating was interrupted by Momo, Aang’s second and more mischievous cat. Lovingly described as a little bastard of a boy, a devious little man. He was usually asleep during this part of his routine. But at 10:15, Momo was awake and needy.

Then the gym. A terrible place to be, made infinitely worse by the fact that at 10:45, it was busy. It was not busy at 5:45. This was not boding well for him.

He was at the Jasmine Dragon by noon. A daily ritual usually done in the early morning. Whether morning or noon, there was a rush of people needing their fix of caffeine before they went off to work, or returned to their desks from lunch.

Zuko dipped into the back, passing the workers in the kitchen and heading straight for his uncle’s office. He wasn’t on the floor, where he usually was, so he’d gone straight to the only other place the old man would be. Thankfully the employees were used enough to him to know who he was and didn’t try to stop him.

Sure enough Uncle Iroh was seated behind a desk, the spectacles perched on his nose reflecting the light emanating from his computer. He glanced up when Zuko stood before him and his face lit up.

“Nephew! I was starting to think you wouldn’t be joining me today.”

“A little late today, but I promised I’d be here. What have you got for me today?”

Zuko had always insisted on helping his uncle at the teashop, but the man didn’t trust him around the tea itself - he’d improved over the years, but his improvements were a pittance next to Iroh’s mastery - and so Zuko did whatever other odd jobs it was that his uncle needed completed.

Apparently, Iroh wanted to open up a back patio in addition to the front. Something peaceful, good for rentals ‘and possibly small weddings’. This romantic aspect was important to Iroh, apparently. It’d be traditional and cozy and several other things. But most importantly, Iroh wasn’t in a hurry. Which meant Zuko would be unable to convince Iroh to just outright hire a landscaper. He was used to normal tasks - changing air filters, cleaning the gutters, climbing ladders to get pesky cobwebs. Sometimes he even pressure washed. But Zuko did not do yard work.

Except today, he did.

It wasn’t nearly as hot outside in Ba Sing Se as it was this time of year in the Fire Nation, but it was hot enough. Another perk to coming in the morning. The sun was high in the sky now, beating down on his back through his tee shirt. He was sweating almost as soon as he began, filling a wheelbarrow with the back area’s miscellaneous debris.

The space Iroh had decided to turn into a back patio was currently much like the space Zuko used as a private parking lot. Overgrown and containing a few spots of gravel from some time in the past, as well as half buried cement blocks and stubborn patches of tangled, prickly weeds. He should have asked his uncle for gloves.

Not terribly long after, his uncle came out to tell Zuko he’d prepared tea for him. Zuko didn’t have the heart to tell him that a hot beverage was the last thing he wanted. It was likely Iroh would have reminded him of all of the drink’s good qualities, and how they couldn’t be overshadowed by something as mundane as the weather.

Zuko was seated at his usual table near the back of the teahouse, patting his face with a damp cloth, when the front door bell alerted his uncle to a new customer. The shop was still teaming with visitors, but the rush had begun to dwindle down.

“No offense, but this is the worst thing you’ve ever asked me to do, uncle.”

“It’s character building.” He replied sagely.

“It’s torture. I can feel my character becoming weaker.”

“Zuko?” A voice not belonging to his uncle but familiar anyways spoke. Zuko shifted his gaze off of Iroh and let it land on the woman now standing a few feet ahead from her.

Katara stood there, her hair in a braided bun atop her head, a rolled up yoga mat tucked under her arm. Beside her was a woman a few inches shorter than Katara, her own yoga mat at her side.

Zuko realized he was staring at her, and had been for longer than was polite, and blushed. He cleared his throat and readjusted his posture in an attempt to conceal his embarrassment. “Katara! Hey, how are you?”

“I’m good! How are you? I’d say I’m kind of surprised to see you here, but I guess I shouldn’t be. Small world, smaller neighborhood.”

“Yeah, uh, this is my uncle’s tea shop. I’m here pretty much every day.” He made a gesture in Iroh’s direction.

“Your uncle? Oh! Hi! I’m Katara! And this is On Ji. We met today at yoga in the park. On Ji, this is Zuko. My roommate.”

“And I am Iroh!” He introduced himself with a large smile, “But you can call me Uncle! A friend of my nephew’s is a friend of mine.”

He realized he should have been the one to do introductions. Instead he had sat there silently like a dunce. Zuko found it unrelentingly annoying how she threw off his equilibrium. There’d been years put into creating and maintaining a cool façade that would keep him alive and with his head above the water in the world he lived in. Katara made him blush and stutter and lose focus like he was a green boy.

“Would you like to sit?” Iroh gestured to Zuko’s table, which held only one other chair but already the man was already grabbing a third.

“Uncle—“

“I don’t want to intrude.” Katara insisted, “Plus there's a spot outside. It’s a beautiful day out, I want to soak it all up.” She smiled brightly - Zuko felt its impact and the feeling wasn’t gentle - before continuing. “It was nice to see you. And to meet you, Iroh. Zuko, I’ll see you at home.” She waved at them and then bounced off with On Ji to the cashier to put her order in.

He could feel Iroh staring at him from beside the table, but he didn’t acknowledge it. When Iroh slid into his vision, taking the seat across from his nephew, it was harder to ignore.

“Miss Katara is a very pretty lady.”

If Zuko’s blushed burned any hotter he would burst into flames. “Uncle—“

“And she lives with you? Interesting. You didn’t tell me about this development.”

“No meddling.”

“If you insist, Nephew. How did she come to live with you? I thought you already had plenty of roommates.”

He sighed. The truth of it was that he definitely didn’t need any roommates. But he’d tried that, and it had been damned lonely. When Sokka’s lease had been up and he’d had little luck finding a place in the area, Zuko had offered a spare room. Then, when Aang graduated and student housing had lost viability, he did the same again. Now he had a full house.

“She’s Sokka’s little sister.”

“Oh.”

“She just showed up one day, only a few days ago actually, and said she needed to stay with us until she got back on her feet.”

His uncle hummed, but said nothing for a long while. Zuko sipped his tea in silence. Every once in a while his gaze would dart over to the window where he could see Katara just outside with her new friend. Part of him wished he’d insisted they sit with him. Katara had been cute with her hair up like that, though he was partial to seeing all of those deep brown waves flowing freely. He’d wanted to ask her questions, to talk to her. Unfortunately, Zuko was also aware of how dirty he was after the hours he’d put in for Iroh. He wanted a shower desperately, even now that the sweat had dried and left behind a tightness in his skin.

“So, uncle. Tell me about the rest of the plans for your back patio.”

Chapter Text

Ty Lee still had not arrived back in town.

Knowing his sister, it could be nearly a month before they came back from wherever it was their little polycule had disappeared to. The only response from his employee he’d gotten had been a text reading simply: “sorry boss! be back asap”. It had been radio silence from Mai and Azula both. After two days of bartending in her place, he couldn’t do it anymore. He wasn’t a night owl in the least, no matter how he tried. Even with an adjusted sleep schedule he found himself weary, his energy lacking.

Suki had commented that his pep was missing. When Zuko had asked what she’d meant by that with a frown on his face, Suki had just given a little shrug and said he was more pepless than usual.

“Your frown is even less frowny.” It sounded like something Ty Lee would say. His employees were spending too much time together, they were all starting to meld together.

Suki had also made it plain that she did not intend to continue her role as bottle girl. She wanted back behind her bar with the bat she used to threaten people who attempted to wrong her.

“I don’t know of anyone else who can take over that position. I can’t.” It had only been a coincidence that ‘table girl’ had been a role assigned only to women. The last guy they’d had in the position had quit and been replaced by Ty Lee when she’d left her position as a circus contortionist. But Zuko didn’t inspire the reckless purchasing in any ways that didn’t qualify as an active threat.

“Maybe Kat can do it?” Sokka offered.

“If she agrees, have her come down stairs and I’ll get her hooked up.” While Sokka stepped away to call his sister, Zuko turned to Suki. “Suki, do you think you could give her a crash course if she does agree?” She nodded her agreement.

Ten minutes later, Katara came downstairs in a pair of black skinny jeans and a tank top.

“Katara, thanks a ton. You’re really saving my ass. And his,” She waved in Zuko’s direction.

“It’s no problem. I need the money anyways — I am getting paid for this right?” She gave Zuko a skeptical look.

“Of course.”

“Then,yeah! Anytime. I wasn’t sure about what to wear.”

Zuko looked her over, careful not to linger on any one place. Not even on the sliver of dark brown skin that was exposed just above the waistband of her pants. “This is fine. Come with me, I’ll get you a shirt.”

He led her through the empty club and up the stairs to the top level. This was where the gambling rooms were, each one boasting their minimum and maximum bets etched into the glass doors. The game wardens were already inside setting up their tables. Katara followed close behind but her head moved curiously around, glancing through the doors they passed and occasionally over the railing to the club’s main floor beneath. At the end of the second level was Zuko’s office, which he unlocked with one of the keys on his overcrowded keyring.

His was more of a lounge than the average office. His desk was at the far end, a seating area was in the middle, and there was a bar cart beneath the flat screen tv on the wall nearest the door. Along the entire length of the room ran a one way window overlooking the club. Immediately Katara went to look out of it, pressing her face almost flush with the glass.

“This is so cool!”

“Thanks,” Zuko watched her for a moment before going quickly to the decorative chest behind the dark red leather couch. “What size shirt do you want? And, do you want a tank top or a tee shirt?”

“Medium, usually. And… tank top.”

He fished the requested shirt out of the trunk, flipping through the plastic wrapped garments until he found the right one. When he placed it in her hands, she wasted no time unwrapping it and pulling it over her head.

In her black skinny jeans and the top emblazoned with the Dancing Dragon’s logo, Katara looked like all of his other employees. So what was with the spike in his pulse seeing her before him this way?

The door opened. Both of their heads turned in it’s direction.

“Hey, boss.” It was Haru, his head of finances. The only other employee he had that wore suits - though tonight he sported only a green button up tucked into a pair of dark slacks. His eyes landed on Katara and a twitch at the corner of his mouth let Zuko know that he liked what he saw. That annoyed him a little, but he couldn’t dwell on that feeling. “Am I interrupting?”

Zuko would have said yes, but Katara interrupted. “No, no. We were done - right?” She looked to Zuko briefly and as always it made his brain stutter just a bit.

“Yeah. Katara, this is Haru, he does most of the financial stuff.” Eloquently put. “Haru, this is Katara. She’ll be covering for Ty Lee for a while - remind me to work out the logistics of getting her paid later.”

Haru extended a hand in her direction, the shake lingering a little too long for his liking. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Katara is Sokka’s little sister.” Haru’s smile faltered. “She’ll be living with me for a little while.” It disappeared. Good. Smug, handsome, nice little bastard.

“The pleasure is mine. Um, well. I guess I should go downstairs and figure out what it is I’m going to be doing.”

“Right. If anyone gives you hell - touches you, looks at you funny - come tell me. I’ll handle it.”

“Shouldn’t I tell the bouncers?”

“No. Tell me.”

She bit her lip and her lashes fluttered. It was quick, but he saw it. “Sure thing, boss.” Then she was gone, and both of them watched her go.

When the door closed behind her, Haru turned to Zuko with his hands on his hips. “Are you two..?”

“No.”

“Okay. Interesting.”

He cut his eyes at him but Haru was still staring in the direction Katara had gone. “Why are you here, Haru?”

—

Katara fell into the role of table girl naturally. But then, she’d always been good at picking up different jobs. She felt like she’d had a million different ones in her life, whether it was her first one working a berry stand at market back in Wolf Cove, or working in the hospice center doing whatever task she could do to help out. In college, she’d been teaching a variety of things - all ocean based. The sea was in her blood. Her father had oft said it was no shock that she’d gravitated towards the ocean.

They were seafaring people, Katara had been raised on and off ships at her father’s side. She’d gone on many a hunt and fishing trip at sea, and the ocean kept her from feeling terribly homesick now that her life away from her land proper had begun. When she’d wanted desperately to return, the ocean had been like home.

So she’d taught people to surf, taught swim lessons, and interned in the marine conservation center. She’d been leading a surf class before she’d high tailed it for the safety of her brother’s arms. But that had been a seasonal position hinged on the seasonal uptick of beach goers, and as the season ended, so had the position. Thankfully, it had meant nothing was keeping her in place when she’d caught Jet in his lie.

Table girl was a good temporary position for her. The people were relatively nice, if dismissive, when she took their orders. And Suki took care of pretty much everything else. She just had to get the bottles to their proper destinations. Most of the tables were full, emptying and buying new bottles quickly enough to keep her busy. But the table in the corner hadn’t ordered anything yet. It was just one girl there, sitting alone in the corner booth. She was facing out towards the crowd, her fingers drumming at the surface of the table. Everytime Katara stopped to check on her, the woman just waved her off.

“Hey, Suki!” Katara leaned over the bar where Suki was busy popping the tops off of a row of glass beer bottles. “I’ve got a table that’s definitely not going to meet tonight minimum. What should I do?”

Suki turned half way away from her to pass the bottles out. “What table?” She asked, both of their voices half drowned out by the dj’s blaring remix.

Katara gestured to the one in the corner, but when Suki looked around her she just gave a smile. “That table is fine. Don’t worry about her - if she’s here, you don’t have to worry about her minimum. That's Toph.”

“Toph?”

“Bei Fong. She’s Zuko’s, like, biggest investor.”

—

“Who’s the new girl?” Toph asked when Zuko slid into the booth across from her. How she knew it was him was beyond him, but he had long since given up trying to figure out how Toph did what she did. He wouldn’t get a sensical answer anyways.

He’d been watching from his office for several hours. After Haru had left - their conversation was short and mostly needless, but Zuko didn’t mind since he liked the man most days - Zuko had turned one of the chairs from his lounge area to face the window. He was the eyes in the sky, after all, and he had a girl he needed to watch. Katara had been doing great, but he had noticed her constantly checking on Toph. Clearly concerned that she was both alone and without a tab (which wasn’t true - Toph’s tab was ridiculous. She just didn’t pay it).

“She’s Sokka’s sister.”

“Ooooh, that’s Katara. Hm. Interesting.”

“Second time I’ve heard that. Should I be concerned?”

“Why would you be concerned about something interesting? Anyways. Sokka’s told me all about her. Y’know. Gushy brother stuff - she's smart and annoying and ‘too good for Jet anyways’.” Toph gave a dramatic shrug and leaned back against the booth cushion. “Whoever Jet is. You like her?”

“No. I don’t like her. I mean I do, but I don’t like. Like her.”

“Can I get a beer?”

“Sure.” Katara’s voice from just over his shoulder. He turned in his seat to face her, a blush spreading rapidly up his neck. He hoped she didn’t misunderstand him, but judging from the almost playful glare she gave him, his hopes had failed. Katara listed off the options, Toph ordered, and Zuko listened. She’d memorized that already. He wouldn’t pretend not to be impressed and was fairly certain however long she was in this position, she’d make a pretty penny in tips.

“Smooth move, Sparky.” Toph laughed.

“Why would I care about being smooth?” He’d explain everything to Katara later. “How goes business?”

“I have a new mole in a good spot.” It was unlikely that she’d give him more information that that for now. Not until she thought he’d be beneficial in whatever plan she had. That's the way it was between them, the way it was when you often dealt in the underbelly of a city. And Ba Sing Se had a hell of an underbelly. “So business is pretty great for me.”

Katara was back, placing the bottle in front of Toph who slid her hand across the table's surface until her fingertips made contact with the bottle’s dark brown glass.

“Well, Sparky. Pay the girl.” Toph’s smirk was poorly hidden behind the lip of her bottle.

“Sparky?” One of Katara’s brow’s lifted.

“Toph has a way with nicknames. I’m sure you’ll get your own soon enough.”

Toph nodded, “Already work shopping a few. I’ll see which one sticks once I get to know you a little better.”

Toph kept Katara distracted for a few more moments, but Katara quickly extracted herself from the conversation when someone at a nearby table waved her over. Zuko watched her go, and it was definitely not longing that he felt when she disappeared into the crowds.

“So she’s only here until Ty Lee gets back?”

Zuko turned back to Toph, taking a swig out of her beer and wishing he’d ordered one for himself. “Yeah. If Ty Lee comes back.”

Toph snatched her bottle back and this time she didn’t put it back on the table. “She seems like a natural. Maybe you should ask if she wants a permanent position. Then install more sections so she has a spot to work.”

He shrugged. “It’s up to her. She might hate it by the time her stay is up. And I don’t know if she’ll stay in Ba Sing Se, or what her plans for the future are.” Or anything about her, really. Except that she was good, and pretty, and perfectly happy to hand him his ass if she felt the need. Funny, and smart too. Toph had started speaking again, but Zuko had been too busy mulling over what he did know about the Water Tribe girl to notice.

—

Zuko didn’t stay for the whole night. He was glad to be able to get back to his normal routine, and Katara seemed perfectly capable of handling herself if she had any trouble.

That said, he stayed two hours longer than he usually would have, making idle conversation with Toph. He managed to get a few details about her upcoming projects, though she was not much more forthright than she usually would be. He spent most of the time that she was talking with his watchful gaze turned on Katara, trying his best not to get noticeably distracted.

By three a.m, Zuko finally dragged himself up the stairs to his bed. He’d practically collapsed onto his mattress as soon as he’d liberated himself from his suit. However, the sound of everyone coming in a few hours later jolted him back into wakefulness. He heard their hushed voices in the hall as they bade each other goodnight, doors closing behind them before silence settled again. Zuko heard the shower turn on down the hall, but the shuffling on the other side of his wall told him it wasn’t Katara in the bathroom.

He dragged himself from bed and pulled on a pair of gray sweats. When he knocked, she answered quickly. The surprise in her bright eyes when they landed on his face - they quickly darted down over his naked chest, down the length of him before landing on bare feet before shooting back up even wider than before - told him she hadn’t expected to see him on the other side of the door.

“I figured you’d be asleep!”

“I was, I heard you guys come in just now.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I’ll be quieter next time.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I’m a light sleeper, but I’ll be okay. I wanted to talk to you anyways. How was your shift?”

“It was great! Like really great. Even though my feet are killing me, and I think this bra is too tight — I didn’t just say that. Ignore that I said that. I’m tired. I wouldn’t have gotten up so early if I’d known I’d be working.” He didn’t know what Katara considered early, but she’d still been in her room snoring when Zuko had gotten up. “But it was good. I made a lot of money, actually. Crazy amounts. Which I wanted to bring up. I can pay you back for all the stuff you bought me. If you still have the receipts - or if you remember what it cost.”

He shook his head, “You don’t have to give me any money, Katara. Really. And about earlier, when I said I didn’t like you–“

“No, its fine.” She held up a hand to stop him. “Seriously. You don’t have to apologize, and you don't have to like me. I’m your roommate, I’m Sokka’s sister. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do like you. I’m just.” He let out an awkward laugh. “I’m not really good with…” Zuko shrugged. Girls? Words? Saying the right thing? Doing the right thing?

Katara’s hands went to his shoulders. “You do like me?” He nodded and she smiled, bright and wide, and for a second his heart stopped beating.

Then she went up on her toes, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, and she slowly pulled him in for a kiss. When their lips finally touched, it was like a match to a fuse. His hands went to her waist, fingers twisting in the fabric of her shirt. The tameness of the kiss didn’t remain, soon enough he was dragging her hips against him, the firmness of her body against his urging him closer. His tongue was in her mouth, her fingers tight in his hair, and every inch of him was begging for more. Her skin was so hot beneath his fingers and he himself felt near to boiling. But when her own hands slipped down across his chest, tracing the dip of his waist, he had to pull away.

“We can’t. I can’t.”

She looked dejected, her lips bee stung and slightly parted. Katara pulled the bottom one between her teeth, eyes fluttering rapidly.

“Oh. Right. Okay. I’m sorry—“

“Don’t apologize. It’s not that. It’s…” The water shut off down the hall, and the sound of the curtain hooks sliding across the metal was unmistakable. “I just don’t think this is a good idea.”

Katara nodded, pushing a stray hair behind her ear. The strand caught on the little diamond glittering there and he wanted to reach out and fix it.

“No, it's cool. Really. I get it. It isn’t a good idea. G’night, Zuko.” The door was shut before he could respond, and then the bathroom door was opening.

Zuko slipped inside of his own room just as Sokka emerged with Suki close on his heels.

Chapter Text

There was a tension in the house that everyone but Katara and Zuko seemed oblivious to. They hadn’t spoken to each other, even during team meetings before their shifts, during the following few days.

Dancing Dragons was closed on Sundays, the first of the household’s three days off. Katara had tried to sleep in, to keep her eyes closed and stay buried beneath her duvet until the ache in her calves had rescinded. But someone was vacuuming, pots were clanking, and everyone was talking. No amount of burrowing beneath her pillows was shutting out the noise. So finally she dragged herself out of bed and stepped out into the din.

Sokka was standing on a chair, a swiffer duster extended the full length of its arm while he swiped wildly at the top of the cabinets, dust swirling around him while Aang tried to catch it with a handheld vacuum.

“What’s happening right now?” It was a struggle to raise her groggy voice loud enough to be heard, but thankfully Aang noticed her arrival and clicked the vacuum off.

“We’re cleaning.”

Katara padded forward on bare feet, the cold floor making her wish she’d put on her slippers before she’d come out. “Why are you doing that?”

Now, Katara could see the source of the clanging. Suki was on her knees, pulling out the pots and pans from the cabinets and stacking them all on the floor. She was deep in them now, seemingly looking for something specific.

“It’s family meal day.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Family meal day.” Sokka faced her fully. “Every Sunday is family meal day. Ursa comes over and we all cook and eat. It’s a good fun time.”

Katara’s brow furrowed, “I don’t know who that is.” The name seemed familiar, like she’d been mentioned to her before, but Katara couldn’t place her.

Suki climbed up off the floor, dusting off her denim jeans and lifting the stack of pots up to drop on the counter. “Ursa is Zuko’s mom. She usually brings Ikem and Kiyi. Used to be, Sokka and Aang would dip out before she came and then Ursa found out they were doing that and said they have to be here. And then I got dragged into it.” By the smile on her face, Suki didn’t mind that she was brought into it at all. “Now it’s your turn.” Suki put her arm around Katara’s shoulders. “You’ll have to cover up your butt though.”

She tugged at the hem of her sleep shirt, a teasing smile appearing on her face. “Do I have to? You think she’ll care?”

“She probably wouldn’t.” Suki leaned in a little and whispered so only she could hear, “It’s the son I’m worried about.”

A squeak let out before she jumped away from her and took off back towards her bedroom, a blush burning hot on her cheeks. Suki’s laughter followed her down the hall.

Damn Suki’s skills at observation. Sokka had joked as a kid that he’d wanted to be a detective when he grew up, but maybe it was Suki who was better suited for that particular line of work. Because of course Suki had noticed the tension between them. Katara was shocked no one else had commented on it. Zuko had a staring problem, and the silence between them wasn’t inconspicuous. They lived together, she worked for him. But neither Sokka nor Aang had mentioned just how thick with it the house had been the last few days.

Since the kiss. Katara hadn’t told anyone — who would she tell? She’d come to like Suki a lot since they’d met, but they hadn’t really become friends yet. Her and On Ji were still coming into friendship. Too early for her to go to. Nearly all of the other friends she’d had had been Jet’s first. It had been near radio silence from them since the breakup. The ones who hadn’t ghosted her had full on blocked her on social media. A feeling that had cut deep and made her suspicious of what exactly Jet was telling them.

Would Zuko even want her there? He may not want his mother to meet her, would it be awkward and uncomfortable? That part was a given.

Katara went to her closet and flipped through the clothes in there, nearly every garment had been purchased by Zuko. A knock at the door preceded it’s opening, then Suki poked her head in. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

She stepped around the door and shut it behind her. This was the first time Katara had seen Suki outside of work, so she took a moment to take her in. It was easy to see why she had become the object of her brother’s affections. She was just as much of a gym rat as Sokka, her well muscled arms exposed in the pale green halter top she’s wearing. She has a tattoo on her shoulder of an open fan filled with intricate designs, and her auburn bob is pulled back in a claw clip, showing off her soft features.

“I wanted to apologize for teasing you. If it’s not something you’re cool with. I just feel like I’ve known you forever since your brother has told me like all there is to know.”

Katara’s eyes went wide. “Suki, no, you don’t have to apologize! I just… well… you were right. And I panicked. Also, I do need to get dressed, but I have no clue what to wear. It’s his family, aren’t they like fancy or something?”

Suki smiled. “I was right? So there is something going on between you and Zuko?”

“Not exactly. It’s kind of the opposite actually.”

“You like him but he’s too stupid to act on it?” Suki’s brow arched.

“We kissed. ‘Nd then be was all,” She deepened her voice in a poor mimicry of Zuko’s, “‘no, sorry, we can’t do that’. Which is fine. Like, okay, we don’t have to do anything. But now it’s so awkward. And if I pushed already, I don’t want to push harder. So I’m waiting for him. But he hasn't said anything. Like at all. And now I’m meeting his mom! And I have no idea what to wear!”

“Slow down. Here, sit. Do you want me to pick something out for you?”

Katara flopped back onto her bed, nodding silently. She heard Suki rifling through the closet.

“You wear a lot of blue.” Suki noted. “Woah, this is sexy.”

Katara sat up. Suki was holding out the red body con dress Zuko had bought. “I look really hot in it. I have no idea when I’ll ever wear it though.”

“What’d you have in mind when you got it?”

“Nothing. Zuko picked it out. He got me all of that stuff, actually.”

Suki looked between her and the closet. “What, for real?” When Katara nodded, Suki sucked her teeth. “Girl. Is he in love with you or something?” She replaced the dress in the closet and kept searching.

“No, he’s just nice.”

“People aren’t that nice.” She held up a long sleeved white henley shirt covered with a smattering of blue flowers. “Do you have a mini skirt?”

Katara took the henley and started to undress. “Yeah. In the dresser,” She gestured to the chest of drawers before pulling the shirt over her head. It was tight and showed off not a modest amount of cleavage. The skirt was a plain denim that barely covered her ass, but Katara didn’t care much because at least someone else had made the decision for her. Left to her own devices, she would have over thought it and worked herself into a frenzy.

She secured her mothers necklace around her throat and combed out her hair - which had thankfully fully dried from the shower the night before.

“How do I look?”

“If I was Ursa, I’d want you for my daughter in law.”

“Oh, for the love of La.” Katara rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop from laughing. “Not going to happen, Suki.” Then her face took on a serious note. “I probably should have waited longer. Jet and I were together for years, and like no time has passed. He still has all of my shit in his house.”

“When are you going to get all of it back?”

“Soon, hopefully. I need to make sure Jet will be there before I go and I really don’t want to talk to him right now.”

Every once in a while Jet would make a burner account on Cabbage to send her messages begging her to take him back. She was a little convinced he didn’t actually care if they got back together. Just that he got a response. So far she’d managed to avoid it. She hadn’t said a word to him since she’d left. Hopefully Jet didn’t decide to just throw all of her stuff out.

After a while, Suki left to return to her previous task, and Katara went to do her makeup. Half way through she made up her mind and unblocked Jet’s account on Cabbage and sent a message asking when he’d be available for her to come to the house to pack up her things.

Sometime later Katara heard the door open and a cheerful barrage of voices start up. She slipped out into the hall, hoping her arrival wouldn’t even be noted. Everyone was still standing in the vicinity of the door, crowded around the newcomers. Zuko was there now too and she wondered where he had been earlier. Even from behind she knew he looked nice, a dark button up stretched across his shoulders and disappeared into well tailored slacks. But Katara would absolutely not be caught staring at Zuko’s ass during introductions to his mother, so she forced her gaze past him.

The first she noticed was the woman - presumably Zuko’s mother. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than Zuko, her hair the same inky black. She caught her eye when she glanced over his shoulder and Katara saw the smile widen over her face.

“And who is this?”

Everyone turned in her direction, Zuko’s expression faltering slightly.

“That’s my sister!”

“Oh! You’re Katara!” The woman pushed past her son and came immediately towards her with open arms. “I’m Ursa, Zuko’s mom!” Her hug was warm and tight and the stiffening in Katara’s back relaxed after a moment. “I’ve heard so much about you.” She didn’t get to respond- which was nice, since she didn’t know what to say- before Ursa stepped back and gestured to the other two visitors. “This is my husband Ikem, and my daughter Kiyi.”

Zuko must have gotten all of his genes from his mother because he looked nothing like Ikem. Kiyi on the other hand seemed a perfect combination of the two, with her father’s olive complexion and her mother’s jet black hair, her eyes large and the same bright golden color as Zuko’s. She looked to be about fifteen, her gaze darting between Katara and her phone screen.

She greeted them both in turn, feeling a little awkward. But as the day continued, that worry began to be shed. Apparently. Azula sometimes joined them during these dinners - though more often than not she was absent for some reason or another. Katara still hadn’t met Zuko’s other sister, but she had seen pictures of her during her Cabbage stalking.

The preparing of the meal was one of the group endeavors, Ursa explained. Though Sokka was on drink duty because he’d once burned an entire pot of pasta once and he wasn’t allowed to cook while Ursa was there until he figured out how he’d managed to do that. Sokka didn’t seem to mind and neither did anyone else.

Ask the man to skin an animal and dehydrate its meat and he’s on it. Ask him to boil water and the house goes up in flames.

Tonight, Sokka was making his “signature” cactus juice cocktails. Not actual cactus juice but the ‘cactus juice equivalent to a liquid marijuana’, which didn’t make anyone any less nervous. But her brother was a professional, and though Katara hadn’t had a drink made by him since they were both in college, she trusted him enough in that regard at the very least. Still, she thought with a glance in Zuko’s direction, she’d have to be mindful.

Everyone was moving around the kitchen in a way that felt like very organized chaos, but Katara wasn’t familiar with the routine. She’d been assigned stove top duty and was currently frying the zucchini that Suki was breading, while Ursa tended to two pans, one of chicken and one of tempeh, both seasoned fragrantly with lemon, rosemary and a variety of other spices. Zuko and Kiyi were busy chopping vegetables for the salad, and Ikem had started the rice cooker before moving on to plating sides of kimchi and pickled daikon and the like, before eventually moving on to helping Sokka make drinks.

Ursa maintained a casual stream of conversation with Katara for the length of their work together. Casual questions like where she was from - Ursa had never been to the South, but she’d heard it was beautiful -, what college had she gone to - a good school, she’d suggest it to Kiyi -, and why she’d moved to Ba Sing Se - she hoped that loser knew what he’d lost -. Katara’s verdict ultimately was that she liked Ursa.

Zuko was speaking to Kiyi behind her, though Kiyi was doing most of the talking. High school gossip and notable drama, with Zuko only pausing to push the conversation forward and keep her going. Katara had no context for any of the conversation, but she found herself getting distracted by his voice on more than one occasion.

The entire meal was like that. Zuko was quiet, but Kiyi had enough to say for everyone. Apparently her best friend was now her ex-best friend because she started dating their other best friend’s ex-boyfriend, and really it would have been fine if the now ex-best friend had just told the best friend she liked the ex-boyfriend. But sneaking around equaled backstabbing equaled the end of a friendship.

At some point, Ursa interrupted her conversation with Suki to focus her attention on her son. “Sokka has been bringing Suki for months, Zuko. When are you going to bring a girl home for me to meet? Hm?”

Zuko’s entire body began to blush, the pink rising over his collar and burning a path across his face. “Mom, I—“

“Y’see, Mrs. N.” Sokka interrupted and clapped Zuko on the back. “It’s because Zuko has literally no rizz.”

Kiyi busted out laughing, which drew Katara’s curiosity. While Zuko started playfully ripping into Sokka, Katara leaned in towards Kiyi and asked, “What is rizz?”

Still bubbling with laughter, Kiyi managed to calm enough to explain to her. “Rizz is like swag. My brother has no rizz.”

“What’s swag?” Katara’s eyes were wide. “Kiyi! Am I old? Why don’t I know this stuff?”

“It’s okay. You’re very pretty.” Kiyi managed a straight face and patted her hand pityingly.

Katara feigned pain, pressing her hand over her heart. “Ouch. Well. At least I’m pretty.”

“Zuko also has terrible luck with girlfriends.” Sokka interjected again.

Katara met Zuko’s eyes briefly. “It’s true.” He said. “I do.”

Her brother nodded sagely. “There was Mai.”

“Dating my sister.”

“And then Song.”

“That lasted all of three weeks.”

“Then Jin.”

“Now she’s my employee.”

“My best friend is rizzless. I’d say it’s embarrassing but it makes me look good.”

“What do you even need rizz for, hm?” Suki’s brow lifted sharply and she shoved her finger into his ribs.

“You’re right. I lay my rizz at your feet Zuko. All you need to do is choose to pick up the mantle.”

“I don’t want your dirty, second hand rizz.”

“Fine. Stay rizzless and bitchless—“

“Language!”

“I apologize, Mrs. N. Rizzless and girlfriendless.”

“We’ll see about that.” Zuko downed the rest of the cactus juice cocktail and poured a second.

“Careful. Those are pretty strong.”

_____

The drinks were strong. And Katara was a lightweight. Three drinks had been too many, but they’d been delicious and sweet and the more they’d drunk the more they’d laughed. Everyone had drank too much, except for the ever responsible Ursa and the too-young Kiyi. Slowly they all filtered out the door, Sokka and Suki sneaking off towards their room. Aang had passed out already on the couch in the middle of their not very family friendly card game, and the gang left him to rest.

Ursa had pulled Katara into a strong hug, telling her how glad she was to have gotten to meet her and saying how she hoped they'd see each other plenty more in the future. It was warm and motherly and deeply comforting. She dipped off towards her room, Zuko stayed behind with his mother for a while. Katara heard them speaking quietly for some time through her wall, though she couldn’t make out anything they said. Then she heard the door finally close and complete silence settled over the house.

She’d settled on top of her bed after changing into her pajamas and was dragging her comb through her hair when a knock sounded at her door.

Zuko stood on the other side, heavy lidded and a little flushed, and for a moment all he did was look at her. All she did was look back.

Then, “Can I come in?”

“Right.” Katara moved out from the room's entrance, letting him slide by her. Their shoulders brushed and that point of contact felt like it had been shocked, the feeling lingering even after he’d stepped away from her.

“Can we talk for a second?”

He was drunk. She was too, but she knew enough to see it in him. The slight wobble in his stature, the barely there slur in his words. Katara sat on her bed and he climbed on too, his legs hanging over the side.

“The other day—“

“You don’t have to.”

“I do. The other day, when I said that we can’t. It isn’t because I don’t feel that way about you. I like you. A lot. Really I do. But there’s a lot about me, my family. My father. It wouldn’t be a good idea. And your brother would agree.”

“Your dad seemed nice.”

“Who?” After a moment he realized who she’d meant. “No. Ikem is my stepdad. He’s fine, but my father. He’s in prison, for a lot of reasons, complicated reasons. I don’t want to be in it, much less drag you into it.”

“Zuko…” Her brow pinched, one of her hands went to his bicep. She gave it a comforting squeeze and he leaned in towards it.

“I’m not very good at being good. And you deserve good.” His eyes were soft, if a little hazy and unfocused. There was a lot there, a burden she wished she could untangle and help him carry.

But she could only take what he allowed her to have. So when he leaned in to rest his head against her shoulder and breathed in her faint cocoa butter scent and asked, “Can I stay here with you tonight?” she had no thought of denying it. She just rolled back her duvet and slipped beneath it, welcoming his heat when he joined her. He laid himself lower than her, his head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped around her middle.

Katara very carefully removed the tie in his topknot, then gently massaged his scalp and combed through his hair with her fingers. He let out a soft noise of pleasure at the feeling. It wasn’t long before the pair of them were asleep.

When Katara awoke the next morning, it was to an empty bed and a single text from an unknown number.

(***) *** ****: hey! its haru. im wondering if youd have time to get together soon-ish to go over a few things? all work stuff :)

Chapter Text

After his initial text to her, Katara met with Haru three times over the following two weeks. Their first meeting had been just work, working through some issue they’d run into with her bank that had meant the pair of them had sat on speakerphone with an employee for three hours. Afterwards, Haru treated her to drinks at a local bar located underneath a boutique. The music had been unobtrusive and familiar and the vibes had been casual. They had been clear that it was not a date. The second and third time they’d gone out together had also not been dates. One was a trip to the movies, the majority of their conversation had been focused on the contents of the film. The other had been Haru tagging along to her yoga in the park class and getting tea with her and On Ji afterwards. They’d gone to the Jasmine Dragon again but with Zuko back on his regular schedule, there’d been no surprise appearance from him. She did notice the renovations to the back patio were nearly complete, and Zuko’s uncle Iroh had been as friendly and conversational as always.

He’d brought up his nephew at every turn, which Katara hadn’t minded. Zuko and Katara had found a comfortable casualness out of necessity. They interacted and no one thought anything between them was off. But Katara remembered the weight of him against her side in bed, how his hair was like silk, how warm he was. They hadn’t kissed that night but the one she had gotten was seared into her mind. So in the moments when they were alone, the weight of those memories settled right back down on the pair of them and sent them both running for cover.

The other man in her life - much to her continued dismay - was Jet. They’d been going back and forth trying to settle on a day when she could drive to his house and rescue all of her belongings. But every date she gave him was an issue, and every date he gave her was last minute and impossible. Katara knew he was dragging this out, though she didn’t for the life of her know why.

Her temporary job had padded her savings quite a bit, aided by the fact that she was living rent free and barely had to foot the grocery bill (though she’d done her best to chip in).

“I heard Ty Lee’s on her way back from Ba Sing Se as we speak.” Haru’s voice came from over her shoulder as she walked back towards the bar with her empty tray in hand.

She smiled but didn’t look back, “Yep. Which means I’m back on the job hunt. Any leads?”

Haru stood close behind when she leaned against the bartop. “I’ll keep an ear open.”

While Suki made the drinks Katara had put in, she glanced over at the pair of them on more than one occasion. Something bordering on mischievous glinted behind her steely eyes.

“But it does mean that we’re no longer co workers. I know we talked about how going on dates with a co worker was a bad idea. But now that we’re technically not… I wonder if you’d like to take advantage of that?”

This time she did look back at him. “Sure. I’d like that.” It’d be the first date she’d gone on since Jet. Haru was a nice guy, Katara liked him just fine. There was a potential something there - no fluttering in her stomach or overwhelming desire to kiss him at every turn. But something which she was happy to explore, to possibly expand upon.

Haru smiled, wide and kind and pristine, “Great. When’s your last day?”

“Tomorrow. How about you pick me up the night after?”

“Sounds like a plan!”

Suki had sat the last of her requested drinks on her platter, giving her a questioning look that Katara answered with only a wink before balancing her tray and going off towards the table that had put in the order.

In two days, Katara would be going on her first date in several years with someone that wasn’t Jet. She had enough optimism to believe that the date would be just fine.

_______

Just fine was an overstatement. The date had been okay.

Haru had said he’d pick her up outside of the club just as the evening was picking up. Katara had told Suki where she was going, and though it wasn’t much of a secret, she hadn’t gone out of her way to tell Aang or her brother that she was going out. She certainly hadn’t told Zuko, who she’d barely seen the last few days. But he’d seen her walking through the alley towards the road and had turned on his heel when he’d realized it was her.

Katara was wearing a black mini dress that she’d bought earlier that day - she had discovered an inability to be comfortable wearing any of the clothes Zuko had bought on the date, and instead of dwelling on that, she instead went shopping - and baby blue platform pumps that matched the cropped chiffon cover-up that tied at her breast. The satin pumps also did magnificent things for her legs. Which might have been why Zuko had stood still for a moment, staring at her in the unflattering glow of the streetlamps.

She just stared back.

“You’re going out?” He asked finally.

Katara took a moment to respond, “I have a date.”

“A date?” His brow furrowed, then his eyes traveled a slow line down the length of her. She felt a pulse of something that she immediately tamped down.

“Yes. A date. With a person. And he is picking me up like now, so if you wouldn’t mind.” Katara motioned with her hand to the air behind him. “I’ve gotta get going.”

Almost as if he hadn’t realized he’d been standing in front of her blocking the exit from the alley, he jolted and moved aside. The loose gravel crunched over his fancy leather shoes, orange lamp light glinting off of the chain at his collar. It caught her attention briefly when she started to walk past him - he had gone without a tie, his patterned shirt unbuttoned enough to show a distracting patch of skin.

Distracting enough that she lost her footing on the gravel, her ankle turning on the loose rock. She hadn’t wobbled enough to fall before Zuko had grabbed her, saving her from the inevitable scrapes and mortification of landing on your ass in the streets.

“Thank you.” She stared up at him with momentary bewilderment. That fluttery feeling in her stomach like it always was when he was close. He smelled amazing. Bury-your-face-in-it amazing. “You smell amazing.”

The ghost of a smile at that before he straightened her out and took a step back. “Your date’s waiting, Katara.”

“Is he?” Awkward laughter while she tugged the hem of her dress properly into place.

“Have a good night… You look beautiful, by the way.”

She thanked him again and carefully went out until she found Haru’s car.

Maybe if she hadn’t seen Zuko before the date. Maybe if he hadn’t looked so good, smelled so good, maybe if she didn’t know that he tasted good too. Maybe then it would have been more than fine. She might have focused more on what Haru was saying. It was sure to have been interesting - he was interesting. They had a lot in common personally and politically, when they’d hung out as friends she’d had plenty to say.

She was near silent now. Katara’s responses to him were sparse and dry and totally unfair. He deserved her attention. But a majority of the date was spent with great lapses in conversation. Dessert was the worst part. The rum cake, spiced and fragrant, smelled like him.

“Are you alright? Is it not good?” Haru asked from across the table.

Katara hadn’t even realized that she had stopped eating all together, the spoon pressed against her tongue. “Hm? Oh. I’m okay - it’s delicious really. It all had been. I’m just a little distracted tonight.” She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I’m sorry, Haru. I’ve been totally checked out all night.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Katara. I get it.”

Of course he did. Because Haru was kind and understanding and totally deserving of someone that wasn’t spending the entirety of their date thinking about another man. Which only made her feel more guilty. Katara managed to focus only marginally better than before, and by the time the bill came he refused her offer to split it.

He remained the gentleman for the remainder of their time together, pulling her chair out and opening the car door for her. But the drive was awkward. She kept fiddling with the edge of her dress, the music playing softly between them the only sound.

By the time Haru was pulling up outside of the Dancing Dragons nightclub, Katara was prepared to apologize again.

“I want to make up for tonight to you somehow.”

“Katara,” Haru put his hand on her knee. “You don’t have to make anything up to me. Unless that means you’ll consider a do-over?”

“I’ll–“ The car’s interior lights came on and the music pouring out of the club suddenly became louder. When Katara turned her head behind her, it was to come face to face with Zuko.

The bane of her evening was leaning in the open door, eyes molten and steady on her. “I’ll take her from here.”

Haru huffed out a laugh. “Right. Katara,” He waited until she turned her focus back to him. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight. Consider it.”

“I will.” Katara smiled and hoped it was bright and genuine. “Thank you again.” She climbed out, forcing Zuko to move out of the door.

“Let me know when you get home safely.” She’d barely gotten it out before Zuko was closing the car door with slightly more force than was needed.

Katara turned on her heel to glare at him before wordlessly stomping off towards the building. She could have done without Zuko immediately following after.

“I don’t need an escort,” She huffed, just barely keeping her footing steady when the pavement turned to gravel. When she slipped a little and Zuko grabbed her arm to keep her steady, she pulled away. All it had served to do was remind her of his presence prior to the date. Of why she’d been so hard pressed to focus. His hand was so warm on her skin, the heat lingering.

“I think you do.”

“You thought wrong!” Katara stomped up the stairs. Zuko had the keycard ready before her and was holding the door open for her before she could protest. “I had a good time tonight, just so you know.” Katara insisted with a glare.

“I don’t believe that.”

Katara scoffed, eyes steady on his. “That certainly doesn’t excuse your macho big brother display outside. One is enough, thank you.”

His jaw clenched, “You know damned well that nothing I feel about you is brotherly.”

“Then what is it?” She snapped. “Because you’ve made it clear that you can’t act on anything romantic. So it can’t be romantic feelings that has you being rude to my date. My date - who is your friend, by the way.”

“Katara–“

“No. It is so unfair. I’m trying to get over all of this shit with Jet, and then you come along and make me like you and now I have to try to get over that too.” Her skin felt like it was on fire, her eyes a little misty.

“Don’t.” Zuko said, his voice quiet.

“What?”

“Don’t. Forget what I said — it was stupid, I was stupid. Thinking I could just pretend I don’t want you the way that I do. So don’t. Don’t get over whatever you feel.”

“Zuko. I swear to Tui and La and Agni and whatever else is holy that if you pull away from me again, I will end you.”

He took a step towards her.

“I’m not a toy. Zuko.”

“I know.”

“You can’t just pick me up and play with me when you want and then drop me again.”

He picked her up quite literally then, pressing her back against the door. “I won’t.”

Katara’s legs wrapped willingly around his waist, her hands clasped tight on his shoulders. “I’m serious.”

“No games. No pulling back.” There was promise in his voice. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Intense was an understatement. She was so keenly aware of how hot and hard he felt between her thighs, how big his hand felt against the small of her back, the other gripping her ass. Her hands slipped from his shoulders to his hair, holding him close. Involuntarily, her hips rocked in little motions against his stomach. He groaned against her mouth, desire flooding the both of them. It wasn’t long before Zuko’s hand was sliding past her hem and grabbing her bare skin.

They separated briefly, breathless gasps mingling between them. “Can I touch you?”

Katara felt like she’d combust if he didn’t. “Touch me. Do whatever you will to me, please.” She pulled him in for another desperate kiss, knowing her lips would be swollen after. The hand at the small of her back slid around to skate across the swell of her breast. She cursed her strapless bra for the space it put between his hand and the hardened peak of her nipple. Katara arched into him anyways, her heels pressing into his bottom to drive him closer.

Zuko’s lips danced over her jawbone, then down her throat, sucking just hard enough at the juncture that he knew it’d leave a mark. Every place he touched was so alive that she didn’t even notice his hand snaking between them to slip beneath the waistband of her thong. But the jolt of electricity that went through her when his fingertip found her clit brought her back to reality with a little squeak. Her eyes went wide, back arching to give him more room. When two of his fingers slipped inside and he started to move with the assuredness of a man well acquainted with the action, Katara knew she was a goner. One of her legs dropped, the platform she still wore keeping her tall enough for this easy access. The other leg stayed hitched around his waist, held in place by the hand that wasn’t pumping between her legs.

“You’re so good,” He cooed, capturing her lips for a kiss. “You feel so good.”

She could have reciprocated the sentiment, would have if not for her inability to formulate any words at all. Language escaped her, leaving breathy moans in its wake. But Katara accepted the praise he continued to pour over her eagerly. Up until the feeling that had been steadily building in her finally burst and her leg gave out. Her vision swam for a moment, every breath loud in her ears.

Zuko caught her, lifting up again. This time he carried her through the house, pushing open her bedroom door and depositing her atop her comforter. She clung to him, arms tight around his shoulders, and dragged him in with her for another bruising kiss.

“I have to go back to work.” There was disappointment in his voice which was surely reflected in her face. “For just a little while.” Zuko removed her shoes for her, tossing them to the ground. “Leave your door unlocked.” He lingered for a while longer, clearly reluctant to leave.

After sometime he stood and straightened out his suit and his mussed hair, kissed her one more time, and went back to the club below. Katara fell into an extremely peaceful sleep only moments later.

Chapter Text

Zuko slept in late the next morning, but this time he had no complaints.

After he’d left the club the night prior, he’d gone back upstairs to change into his pajamas and then slipped into Katara’s room. She’d been asleep but had stirred just enough to cuddle against him when he’d climbed beneath the blankets. He usually slept hot, but Katara’s weight was soothing against his chest and he hardly even noticed the added warmth. And by morning, with a mere sliver of daylight creeping through the black-out curtains, she was peacefully asleep on his naked chest. Zuko didn’t want to wake her, but he also didn’t want to leave her to come into consciousness in an empty bed. Or, maybe, he just wasn’t ready to lose the connection.

The tip of his finger slid along the bridge of her nose, then across the well shaped arch of her brow. “Katara,” His voice was quiet and smoky with the night's disuse.

He received a little grumble in response.

“Katara...” Still just a whisper, a smile forming at the way her brows furrowed and she huffed at the intrusion.

“So warm,” Her voice was tiny and groggy and so sweet it nearly cut him to the bone. “I don’t want to get up.”

“You can go back to sleep, but I have to get up.” His hand curled over the curve of her shoulder, thumb brushing circles into the smooth skin.

It was as if she was only then aware that she was sleeping on his chest. Katara sat up, putting her weight on an elbow. She looked him over slowly, appreciatively, a storm cloud gathering behind her eyes. “Why do you need to get up? We could just stay here all day,” Her other hand trailed up the center of his chest, tracing along the inked designs in his skin.

“As tempting as that is,” Zuko wound his fingers through her thick tresses and guided her in for a long, lingering kiss. Morning breath be damned. Before he became helplessly distracted by the sweetness of her lips, or by the way she sighed against him, he pulled back. “Unless you want to explain to your brother why I’m under you, I think I should leave before he gets up.”

She nodded in agreement at this. Zuko hadn’t thought much about it, and if he did he might realize that really, keeping it a secret was foolish. But this was a liaison, and liaisons were best kept to yourself until the liaison went from situationship to an actual relationship. One with titles and conversations and changed social media statuses. This was especially true when it came to telling your roommate, who also happened to be your best friend, that you’re fucking their sister. Even if you hadn't gone all the way yet.

“I guess that’s true.” Katara kissed the center of his chest, then the flat of his nipple. Zuko did little to stop the pleased shudder that slid through him. “But we might have at least a few minutes, if you want to take advantage of it.” Her hand slid over his belly button and along the line of dark hair that disappeared under the waistband of his sweatpants.

Anticipation coiled at the base of his spine. “I’m not enough of a fool to even consider denying that offer.” Zuko watched with heavy lids as she disappeared under the blankets. Then her mouth was on him, his fingers were curling in the sheets and his jaw was clenching to stop the moans that threatened to escape.

Sometime later, when he’d been brought to a finish and Katara had returned to rest alongside him once more, he finally relented to the need to get up. He slid from the warmth of her embrace, leaving her bleary eyed in his wake. Zuko adjusted his sweatpants and gave her a lopsided grin. She was lovely all mussed beneath the comforter. Her dark lashes swept her cheeks with each long blink like she might fall back into a slumber at any moment.

“What are your plans for the day?” He asked, retying the drawstring on his sweats.

“I have yoga in the park, and then back to job applications.” She scrunched her nose, “Much fun.” Katara drew herself from bed, stretching her arms above her head in a way that captured the whole of Zuko’s attention. She caught him watching - unsurprising since he hadn’t been subtle in the least - and gave him a cat-like grin. Katara was a little dramatic in the swaying of her hips when she walked past him to retrieve the towel hanging from the hook on the back of the door. One of his, but he wouldn’t tell her that. He didn’t mind, and he had no desire to see it go unused.

“Yoga in the park? You do that near uncle’s tea shop, don’t you?” Did his voice crack? Maybe a little. But, damn, Katara was pretty. How had he managed to go even a minute in her presence before without falling to his knees? He supposed he owed that to how nervous she made him. He felt like a green boy any time he was in her presence. And part of him liked it.

“You remember?” She thought of when they’d happened upon each other after he’d started building Iroh’s new back patio. “I do. Why? Wanna come?”

“No.” She looked a little disappointed by his quick answer. “I have to go by uncle’s to help him with something. And… I don’t really like group yoga. But… I could drive you if you’d like?”

Katara smiled again and his heart resumed its beating. “I would like. I need to take a shower - give me a bit?”

Zuko nodded and she, having gathered her necessary accouterments, slipped from the bedroom and down the hall. Zuko left too, closing the door softly behind him and heading to his own room to dress for the day. When he finished, Katara was still in the bathroom, though he could hear the hair dryer blowing from within.

The rest of the house was quiet, the soft sounds of his socked feet against the floor the only noises to be heard. In the kitchen, Zuko went straight for the cupboard. He’d eat at the Jasmine Dragon, but he needed something in his stomach before he withered away - or got snappish.

“Mornin’.”

Zuko jumped nearly a foot in the air. “Holy fucking hell.” She was the only person in all his life that had successfully snuck up on him - aside from his Agni forsaken sister, who’d gotten much joy out of that particular ability. “Good morning, Suki.”

She’d come to stand just behind him, the handheld console she’d apparently been playing moments before discarded on the marble countertop. The pause screen blipped rhythmically. “You’re up later than usual.”

“I cannot even begin to express how creepy I find that. Are you keeping up with my sleep schedule?” He tried to give her an intimidating look, knowing perfectly well that it wouldn’t work.

“Just an idle observation.” Suki’s stormy eyes looked him up and down, mild disapproval radiating from her. “Be aware of that, bossman.” Suki patted his chest with the backs of her fingers. “I am always watching.”

Zuko gave her a little frown knowing full well that his eyes reflected the little thread of fear that nipped through him. “What, exactly, are you watching for?”

“Tears.”

“Are you planning on making me cry?”

“Not yours.” Suki looked behind her at the sound of the hair dryer cutting off. “Just know. I’ve got my eye on you.” She then made a very cartoonish gesture to signify that she was watching him, as if a reminder that she didn’t mean to be taken too seriously, and snatched her console back up off the counter.

Zuko was still pressed with his back flat against the cupboard door when Katara came in.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” His eyes flicked in Suki’s direction. She’d taken up a perch on the couch, leveling a bright smile in Katara’s direction when their gazes met.

“Good morning, Tara.”

“Good mornin’, Suki. How’d you sleep?” Katara pushed past Zuko to fish a granola bar out of the cabinet.

“I’m awake already, so not great.” She laughed, “Coulda used a few more hours. But, unfortunately for me, I’m a light sleeper.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good.” Suki shrugged nonchalantly. “What’re you up to today?”

“I have a yoga class.” She sat on the bench by the door to shove her feet into her beat up white tennis shoes. “Zuko was gonna take me. What about you?”

“Sokka and I usually go to the gym together, so I’m just waiting for him to get up now.” She sighed. “See you later?”

“For sure.” Katara pulled her ponytail through the back of her baseball cap, then looked at Zuko. “Y’ready?”

He nodded and followed her out the door. When he passed Suki, she gave him the universal ‘I’m watching you’ signal that he’d seen from Sokka a thousand times in the past. Her laughter followed them out into the crisp morning air.

“She knows, by the way.” He said, following Katara down the stairs.

“Does she? I thought the energy was a bit weird in there.”

“Yeah.” Zuko opened the door for her, then went around to his own side. “Pretty sure she implied that she’d kill me if I hurt you.”

“Awh!” Katara cooed. “That’s sweet.” She sucked her teeth affectionately. “I guess that means we’re actually friends, huh? Maybe I should threaten Sokka a little. Reciprocity.”

Zuko gave her a humored look, “Maybe. I won’t though, you know. Give Suki a reason to try to kill me.”

Katara shot him a bright smile. “I know it. For the record. If you did, I’d kill you myself.” He wondered what sort of omen it was that Jet was still walking around unharmed despite the pain he’d inflicted.

Zuko parked just on the other side of the park where Katara attended her class and walked her down to the gated entrance. It was a short distance, wherein they walked close to each other, not touching aside from the occasional brush of their shoulders. Zuko’s hand twitched, and he considered reaching out for hers. She was so close, and she would have let him.

Katara’s phone buzzed and she fished it out of the pocket of her quarter-zip top’s pocket. She stopped walking and reached out to take Zuko’s hand to pull him to a halt as well.

He gave it a little squeeze, grateful that his thoughts had been brought to life so quickly. “What's up?”

The little smile on her face was telling, but her reply made his jaw clench. “Jet just text.”

This made her happy? “Oh?”

“He said I can come get my stuff Monday. That he’d be home all day.”

“Oh! Do you need a ride?”

“No, but, if you wanted to come… I could sure use the backup. And maybe Sokka would let me drive his truck.”

Zuko smiled down at her, keeping her hand in his. “I’ll go with you. Absolutely. I’ll do the heavy lifting.”

She thanked him, the smile staying on her face for the rest of their walk.

“I might still be at the Jasmine Dragon when your class lets out. If you wanted to stop by, that is.”

“Yeah, I’ll pop in. Thanks for the ride.” She bounced on the balls of her feet, teeth exposed in a sunny smile.

“Of course. I’m gonna,” He stepped back, gesturing with a thumb towards the sidewalk.

Katara reached out to grab the front of his t-shirt. “Wait.” Then she looked around as if checking their surroundings and pulled him down for a quick kiss to the lips. “I’ll see you later?”

Zuko’s face burned hot with a blush he knew was anything but subtle. “Later.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

Inside the tea shop, Iroh watched him with an inquisitive gleam in his eyes. “What has you smiling so big, nephew?”

He couldn’t help it if the blush burned brighter and his smile grew a fraction. “Nothing, Uncle.”

Chapter Text

When Zuko had offered to go with Katara, he hadn’t anticipated Sokka. Of course it made sense that Sokka would want to go. They all had the day off, and Zuko had already known that he was protective of his sister. Jet had cheated on Katara, and Sokka had mentioned that even without that fact, he wasn't much of a fan. In Sokka’s words, the guy was ‘skeevy’ and had the general energy of a pest. He’d also had an enlightening conversation with Toph, which had told him plenty more about Katara’s ex.

Skeevy indeed.

“Are you guys ready?” Katara’s gym bag was doubling as an overnight bag for them. It was ridiculously early in the morning, since they had hopes of getting to the place Katara had shared with Jet sometime around mid day, and with eight hours on the road, Zuko had insisted they leave before sun up. So Katara’s voice was bleary, her hands tucked into the pockets of her baggy sweatpants.

When Zuko’s alarm had gone off earlier that morning and he’d turned to gently shake her awake, she’d groggily pushed him away and hid herself further beneath the blankets. So he’d gotten dressed before going back and trying again. Katara had dragged herself out of bed with a glare, but she’d still pressed a kiss to his lips before she went about getting ready for their trip.

“We were waiting for you,” Sokka teased from his spot at the counter, mouth full of a cereal bar.

Katara cut her eyes at him, then shifted to look at Zuko. “Sorry. You ready?”

He nodded and reached out with a gesture towards her bag. “Let me take that.” When Zuko reached past her to open the door, he added, “Sleep in the car. Sorry you had to get up so early.”

“No, it’s fine,” She muttered. “I’m just not a morning person.”

Then they were out the door, the pre-dawn air crisp and quiet. The occasional car drove past the club, but beyond that the city was asleep. The crunch of gravel followed them to Sokka’s truck. Sokka called out ‘Shotgun’, but Zuko was already ushering Katara inside.

Her brother pouted. “No respect for the sanctity of shotgun. Isn’t it bad enough that I’m not allowed to drive my own car? Now I have to sit in the back too. Shakin’ my head right now.” He shook his head, his ponytail bobbing with the motion.

Katara had already curled up in the passenger seat. Her body was turned towards Zuko and Sokka, who had taken the seat behind Zuko, her cheek resting along the curve of the seat. “How come your new fancy truck doesn’t have heat seaters?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Heat seaters. Y’know. That make your butt warm,” She still sounded as drowsy as she felt, her eyes closed and her bun half-squished by the hood of her sweater.

“A seat heater?”

“Yeah.”

Sokka sucked his teeth. “It has one, you just gotta open your eyes and look.”

“Be sweet to me.” Katara opened her eyes just to glare at her brother. Then she turned to find the button to turn on the heated seats.

“Let me sit in the front seat on the way home. Then I’ll be sweet to you.”

“We’ll see.” Katara said with a yawn before settling down against the leather.

Zuko glanced away from the road for a second, “I have a feeling this is going to be a very long eight hours.”

“Our dad used to say the same thing.” Sokka piped up from the back.

But the sibling squabbling didn’t last for long, and both Sokka and Katara were asleep within the hour. When Katara woke up again, feeling more rested than she had when she’d first woken up, it was to the noise of Sokka snoring and Zuko’s preferred soft jazz. Her stretch was what drew his attention the the fact that she was awake.

“Morning.”

The look she gave him, though he could hardly see it, made his heart stutter in his chest. “Good morning.”

Then she hooked her index finger in his sleeve and dragged his hand into her lap. He would have gone willingly, but he’d never complain. She wasn’t quite holding his hand, her finger tips were drawing designs on his inner wrist, which gave him leave to do the same to her inner thigh. Maybe it was all a ploy to butter him up, because a moment later she pointed with her free hand to the radio. “Can I change this?”

“To what?”

“I dunno,” A little shrug, “Something with words, maybe.”

“What? You don’t want to talk to me?” He replied teasingly, but then he passed her his unlocked phone so that she could play whatever she wanted through the radio’s aux.

She watched him for a moment, as if trying to figure out if he was being genuine. “I’d love to talk to you.”

And they did, with Sokka’s snoring and the light jazz that Katara didn’t get around to changing as the backdrop. Zuko told her about college, how he’d majored in business but minored in developmental psychology, how he hadn’t expected the night club to be such a hit. But it was - likely thanks to the good word of mouth from both Mai and Azula.

“Mai, the ex that's dating your sister?”

“That’s right. And Ty Lee.”

Katara nodded. “Right. Thats the same Mai that owns a tattoo shop? She did all of yours, right?” She traced the outline of the ink with the tip of her nail.

“She did.” Zuko glanced over at her with a teasing grin, then squeezed her thigh gently. “No need to be jealous.”

Katara sucked her teeth. “I’m not jealous.”

“She did them after she dumped me for my sister. Just so you know.”

“Sounds like you’re the jealous one.” She poked his bicep, and he could see her watching his reactions with curiosity in her eyes.

“If you mean when it happened, I was. It was bad and pathetic. We didn’t even like each other all that much, but it felt like the end of the world when she told me. She doesn’t really do ‘gentle’ so it was very ‘I realized the thing I liked about you was that you looked like Azula’. But I was also seventeen so really everything felt like the end of the world.”

Her laughter was bright and full bodied. “Damn, that is rough.”

“Tell me about it. I’d ask you about your worst breakup, but…”

“Yeah.” She sighed deeply, a dramatic edge to it. “I dunno. I’m over it. I think. I feel over it most of the time, especially lately.”

“I wonder what that’s about.” His lip quirked into a smile.

She returned it. “Oh, no idea. Luck, I guess. But, well. In a lot of ways, I guess I just don’t notice. I mean I was with him for so long, but I’m not — I don’t —“ Another sigh, but this one was genuine. “I hardly even think about how much it sucks that he cheated on me. Because yeah, if fucking sucked. But I’m not even all that sure I was in love with him. I mean we dated and he was there and I lived with him. But at some point we went in the opposite direction.” Her voice was small, and she was mindlessly picking at the edge of his shirt sleeve. The steady snores from the backseat disrupted the calm of the car. “Maybe I’m grateful. What if I’d married him? I probably would have, if he’d asked.”

“Awful glad you didn’t.” It wasn’t much, but he never was good at finding the words for moments like this. Still, he rubbed his thumb in what he hoped were comforting circles. He was surprised to hear that she would’ve married the guy, but he supposed that was generally the nature of long term relationships. Though for some reason, the thought stuck him between the ribs. There was also a distinct desire to punt Jet across a field the moment he saw him.

The look she gave him was nothing short of affectionate. “So am I.” Then after a moment, Katara added. “I was thinking I might go back to school.”

“Oh really? Tell me about that.”

“Well, BSSU has a phenomenal biology department. I considered transferring way back when for it, but didn’t because Jet got all passive-aggressive about it until I didn’t want to do it anymore.” Katara rolled her eyes. “Anyways, now I’m thinking about applying for my masters. If I was closer to the ocean, I’d go Marine Biology, that's what I saw myself doing as a kid. But I think I might be leaning more towards medical research.”

He would have happily sat and listened to her for hours. And he did for the better part of an hour, until Sokka woke up and began complaining about how hungry he was. They stopped for a quick breakfast, and this time when Zuko got back to driving, it was to the very un-jazzy sounds of Katara and Sokka yelling the lyrics of nearly every rap song on her playlist. But Zuko found that he thought this was endearing, especially when she’d turn to him to force his involvement despite him not knowing many of the words. He was familiar enough to recognize it, it was played often in his club, but Zuko had never been so lyrically inclined. Nor was he quite so energetic.

In the end, the eight hours passed surprisingly quickly. When they neared Gao Ling, some of Katara’s earlier vibrancy began to wane. When Zuko turned the truck onto the road where she’d once lived, she’d settled into complete silence. If Sokka wasn’t in the car, or if he had still been asleep, Zuko would have given her hand a reassuring squeeze. Instead, it was Sokka who reached forward and rubbed her upper arm affectionately.

“Feel okay?”

Zuko glanced over briefly, and he saw the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed around her answer. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m great.” Her hand went to Sokka’s, giving it a pat and then a squeeze. “Just wish I didn’t have to do this. Or that he wouldn’t be there while I did.”

“Don’t you have a key?” Sokka asked.

“He told me he changed the locks. Y’know. So he had to be there.”

“What a fucking dick.” Sokka muttered some more about vaguely violent things, but he’d leaned back in his seat again, and Katara had started typing quickly on her phone.

Zuko put the car in park outside of a quaint yellow duplex. Katara remained in her seat for a few moments, staring blankly at the building's exterior. Then she sighed, unbuckled her seat belt, and climbed out. Zuko watched her knock on the door, watched her wait for the door to open, and then as Jet opened the door. He recognized him, both from Katara’s Cabbage account and from his own sleuthing. Sokka perked up in the backseat, then very awkwardly maneuvered himself into the front seat. If it had been his own car, Zuko would have been fuming about him having his dirty canvas shoes all over his leather seats. He couldn’t very well reprimand Sokka about how he treats his own car.

Katara was still talking to Jet, and though they couldn’t see her face, they saw how she shifted her weight from foot to foot, clearly impatient. Jet was taking too long for Zuko’s liking too, and he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

Her head turned and Katara looked back at the truck. Jet reached for one of her arms and turned her back to look at him again. Then Zuko heard Sokka mutter, “Shit,” and he was half way out the door.

“Wh—“ He saw what, and it had him jumping from the truck just as quick. Katara had swung, and now Jet was keeled over in the grass and Katara had disappeared in the house.

Sokka went in after her, so Zuko turned his attention to Jet.

The other man was unsteady on his feet and he groaned loudly when Zuko approached him. “What the fuck…” He was hiding his nose behind his hands, blood dripping down his palms and landing in the dirt. “She broke my fucking nose.”

“You shouldn’t have touched her.” Zuko’s jaw clenched and he stuffed his fists in the pockets of his dark wash jeans.

“I didn’t— Not like that.”

“Clearly she didn’t feel the same way. Your nose’ll be fine. You’re lucky she didn’t do worse.”

“I oughta fucking call the cops. I’m the innocent party here!” He pushed, standing straighter now but still clutching his bleeding nose.

“Maybe.” Zuko shrugged, then stepped closer to Jet. “But you won’t, will you?”

Jet glared at him, “Why shouldn’t I?”

“I’d hate for a tip about your involvement with a certain organization to fall into their laps. Wouldn’t you?” Zuko wasn’t any more likely to send an anonymous tip to the police any more than Jet was to actually invite them to his house. But the bluff was easy, and it gained the appropriate response.

At least, until Jet decided to speak again.

“Who the hell are you? You who she’s fucking now?”

This time, when Zuko swung, Jet landed in the grass with a thud and had the good graces not to stand back up again.

Chapter Text

It was no surprise that Katara seemed as if she had been drained by the day’s activities. She was holding her hand close to her chest, prodding at the bruise blossoming against her skin there.

Even Sokka was silent for the extent of the drive from Jet’s house to the hotel.

They’d left him, after he’d recovered enough from Zuko’s hit to sit up, sitting on the lawn. He’d watched them with a tight jaw and a bloodied nose, but he’d had the forethought not to say whatever it was he’d been thinking while he seethed in the dirt. Uninterrupted, they’d managed to get the car packed relatively quickly. By the end of it Katara just wanted out. She’d insisted anything left behind was as good as gone — he could sell it or give it to the next girl, she didn’t care. She’d gotten the things that she cared the most about and wanted most to be gone.

With Sokka’s truck bed hidden by a diamond plate cover, Katara’s retrieved belongings would be safe parked in the lot of the Kuei Hotel overnight. Katara took the longest to get out of the truck, staying put even after Zuko opened the door for her. She offered him a tentative smile when she finally climbed out.

Zuko checked them in and retrieved the keys from the front desk before leading them up the elevator to the floor where their two bedroom executive suite was located. Sokka had initially complained that he’d have to share a room with his sister, claiming that she woke him up with her snoring (and certainly not the other way around), but when he’d realized that him switching rooms with Zuko would put Zuko in the room alone with Katara, he’d ceased his arguments.

Inside of the hotel room, which was as luxurious as advertised, Zuko turned to Katara while Sokka went to put his bag in his room.

“You’ve had a rough day. If you want, I can sleep in there with Sokka, or in the living room, and you can have my bed.”

“No, it’s okay,” Katara reached out to squeeze his bicep reassuringly. And then once extra for her own enjoyment. She felt a deep appreciation for his daily workouts at that moment. “If his snoring gets too bad, I’ll slip out. Into the living room. The couch looks comfortable.”

She heard Sokka call out that he was going to take a shower, and a few moments later the spray of water in the bathroom started up. Katara’s hand dropped from his bicep to his hand and she gave it a gentle squeeze. His sudden pained hiss reminded her that she wasn’t the only one with an injury.

“Oh! Zuko, let me see!” He didn’t protest when she raised his hand for better viewing. A purplish bruise was already beginning to blossom over his knuckles. “Poor baby,” Katara pressed the gentlest of kisses to the skin. “Let’s get something put on that. You hit him a lot harder than I did.”

“You still got a pretty good lick in.” He insisted when she led him over to the suite’s little kitchen. “You ever trained before?”

Katara laughed under her breath. “No, but I can fight. Sokka wrestled in high school. I was just a regular old scrappy gal.”

“A ‘scrappy gal’? Is it 1952?”

“Don’t make fun of me, I got a booboo.” Katara lifted her own hand so he could see her own bruise, a playful look having taken up residency on her features.

“Matching wounds.” He kissed her knuckles the way she did his, then in a thorough distraction from her attempt at first aide, he leaned in to capture her lips with his. Briefer than she would have wished, because they were both so aware of the sound of water hitting the walls of the shower where her brother was, but she reveled in it nonetheless.

His lips were so soft against hers, the fingers at her waist gentle despite their firm grasp. Zuko slipped away from her with enough time for them to both gain their composure before Sokka came back out into the living room. Zuko had quickly made compresses for both of them.

When Sokka appeared with a towel over his head asking about dinner, they both just looked like two pals treating their minor scrapes.

“I was thinking we’d order room service.” Zuko suggested.

Sokka shook his head. “No way. The bar downstairs has real sized drinks. But if you two jailbirds want to nurse your poor little hands, I support that. I’ll go downstairs though.”

There were no protests from either of them. When Sokka left after having done his hair and donning a shirt, the pair of them were left completely and utterly alone. For a moment they just watched the door, half expecting a suspicious Sokka to burst back through brandishing accusations. But he didn’t. Her thoughts must have been clear on her face because Zuko tilted her face up with the gentle touch of his finger.

“We can tell him, you know.”

“Yeah,” She nodded, then reached out to hook one of Zuko’s belt loops. “Maybe not right now. We’ll figure it out when we get back home.” Katara guided him forward before lifting herself on her tip toes to kiss him. “Wanna watch a movie?”

There was a thin white blanket that reminded Katara more of a hospital sheet than a throw, but when she pressed herself into Zuko’s side, she found she didn’t much care about the blankets' warmth. He was exceptionally warm, and she found herself tempted to fall asleep against him before the beginning credits had even ended.

But the hand tracing geometric patterns into her skin did wonders to keep her alert. When the hand wandered past har arm and began marking those same patterns against the planes of her stomach halfway through the final act, Katara’s attempts at concentration started to wither. Her hand slid over his stomach, fingers curling in the fabric. Then she readjusted so that her face was tilted up towards his, eyes heavy lidded and lips plump. Her fingers went to his throat, followed the contours of his jaw before slipping up to undo his top knot. The hair tie fell uselessly to the ground somewhere behind them. When Katara finally hooked her finger on the chain that had been previously hidden by the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward for a kiss, Zuko had looked near to begging for it.

The first press of her lips to his was the spark that led to the outright explosion of pent up passion. It was moments before they were chest to chest, Katara’s thighs spread across his hips, their centers flush. He fit so perfectly beneath him. When her hips rolled against his, the friction alone was enough to make her moan. The noise spurred Zuko on further. His hands went to her ass, squeezing through the soft fabric of her pants. Their kisses were rough, bruising and needy. She nipped at his lips, his throat, his ear. Each roll of her body was met with one of his own. Lust coursed through them like a fire they couldn’t quite douse.

“I want you.” Katara cried. Her nipples ached, and she’d never felt quite so empty.

“I’m yours.” He assured her, fingers playing with the clasps on her bra. Her own hands toyed with the button on his jeans. It’d be so easy to just rid themselves of their clothes, for her to slide down the length of him. Familiar to her now, though she’d never felt him inside. Not fully, not how she wanted him now.

But Katara managed to remain just aware enough of the noises around them. Of how the movie they’d stopped watching had switched to whatever had been next in the channel’s queue, of how the people in the room above them wouldn’t stop stomping. Of the faint cursing of someone in the hallway. None of that stopped her from nearly jumping out of her skin when the knocking started.

“Kat! I forgot my room key!”

Her brother’s voice was only a little muffled by the door’s metal build. Zuko’s eyes were wide, but he helped her put herself to rights before covering his still obvious erection with the blanket’s fabric. Then Katara darted for the door. She could only hope she looked normal when she opened it, but from the way Sokka staggered in he probably wouldn’t have noticed anyways.

He reeked. “Did someone douse you in champagne?”

Sokka turned on her with a lopsided grin. “There’s a wedding party downstairs. They are… so friendly. I didn’t even have to pay for my food! But, uhm,” He wobbled where he stood. “I’m gonna maybe go to bed.” When he turned back and finally noticed Zuko on the couch, his brow furrowed. “You guys were watching a movie?” Then be scoffed and started off towards his assigned room. “I didn’t even know Zuko watched movies.”

After that, they spent a while just watching whatever movie it was that had come on. She couldn’t tell someone the plot if they asked, her body was tense and her every movement lined with raw nerves. If Sokka had been even a moment later… and thank La that he’d left his room key. But sometime later, when the heavy snores of Sokka sounded through the wall, Katara risked a glance at Zuko.

“Wanna go to bed?”

“If you’re tired, I can turn the tv off, but I might stay up a while longer.”

“No, I meant… Do you want to go to bed… together.”

Zuko’s eyes widened, “Oh. Oh. Yes. Absolutely. Fuck, yes.” Then he pulled her in for a kiss, hooked his hands under her legs, and carried her into his bedroom. He dropped her on the mattress and wedged himself between her legs. It was such a delicious fit, she immediately began pulling at his clothes.

When he leaned back to yank his shirt over his head, she finally asked. “Do you have condoms?”

Zuko dropped his shirt back over his torso. “Shit. No.” He thought for a moment, his breathing heavy. “Hold on.” Then he scrambled for his bag, as if he might have a lone loose condom he’d left in there at some point. When he turned up empty, he checked the hotel bathroom. Nothing, of course.

“You can try the convenience spot in the lobby?” She offered.

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her. “Brilliant. Brilliant, beautiful, horny woman. I’ll be back.”

When he left, Katara took the time to freshen up. She undressed, then slipped into the plush white robe hanging in his bathroom. Not the sexiest article, but she practiced in the mirror ways to make it drop alluringly from her body in a single motion. Then she waited.

Zuko came back in and closed the door carefully behind him. “No condoms in the shop.” Immediate disappointment. “But…” He reached into his pocket and showed off the strip of condoms. “Sokka was right. The wedding party downstairs is very friendly.”

She grinned and stood from the bed. “Perfect.”

Then he really noticed her. Saw the loose curls falling over her shoulders and down her back, the exposed length of her throat over the robe. His eyes skirted over to the neatly folded pile of her clothes. She didn’t get the chance for her practiced sensual robe dropping, because one of Zuko’s hands tentatively raised to the belt at her waist. She nodded at his inquisitive look and he flicked the robes tie open. With a little shimmy, the fabric slipped and fell to a pile at her feet. There she stood before him, completely in the nude. They’d seen each other naked - or rather, mostly naked - several times since their first encounter that night against the door. But this felt different.

Katara hadn’t felt shy during those moments, though now she resisted the urge to cover her nakedness with her hands. She resisted the urge, favoring instead the unadulterated lust that showed on his face. He knelt before her, as he’d done in the past, and pressed his lips gently to the space beneath her navel. Her lips parted on a sigh, lashes fluttering at the sweetness of it. They ventured across, his mouth mapping out the curves of her body. All of them, she felt, his fingers tracing each spot in its wake.

Katara’s own fingers threaded through his hair. Then danced along the edge of his face, feeling the ridges of his scar before it melted away to the contrasting smoothness of his jaw. One of his thumbs rolled across the peak of her breast, he felt her gasp beneath his still questing lips. She felt the smile that movement caused him.

“La, Zuko, how you tease.” Her voice was a whisper. They knew they had to be quiet, though they both would have preferred to be allowed to react with abandon. Even if they weren’t still keeping things secret they’d have to be quiet. There was no world where Katara wanted her brother aware of her sexual proclivities.

He nipped the sensitive skin on her hip. Then squeezed the prominent curve of her ass before shuffling her backwards towards the bed. She went easily, gladly letting him lead when he lifted her leg over his shoulder and pressed a kiss to her center.

She was wet with wanting him, toes curling with the anticipation of the pleasure she knew he would bring her. And he did, earnestly, with his tongue to her clit and two of his fingers pumping within her. Katara’s hips rolled restlessly, her jaw clenched with the effort her silence required. Her fingers curled tightly in the comforter. It wasn’t long before Zuko was finally pushing her over the edge. Her back arched off of the bed, a long, low moan slipping out despite her tries. Then he was kissing his way up her body, lingering when he got to her breasts.

A hand played with one, adept fingers tweaking and kneading in the lost delicious way. Lips and tongue focused on the other, softly enough not to overstimulate her still pulsing body. His eyes were closed, then when they opened again they focused solely on her. He smiled against her, pausing his work to switch sides and note, “You’re so beautiful.” His voice was deeper than usual, making its usual smokiness even sexier. “So perfect.”

She knew she would have little bruises where he sucked at her skin, she also knew by the end of it he'd have them too, and she made no protests when his attention shifted to her throat. Katara hitched her leg around his hips, then stopped. “Zuko.”

“Hm?”

“Take your pants off.”

His laughter was soft when he climbed off of her to discard his clothing, leaving them in a messier bunch than she had with her own. Then he ripped one of the condoms from the row and in a motion that had Katara whimpering with want, slid it over the impressive length of him.

In the golden light he looked like a god. His eyes looked near to glowing, his dark hair mussed the bold lines of his tattoos so different from the untouched expanse of his stomach.

“You’re so—“ She looked him over. “I wish I could take a picture of you. You look so good.”

“Take it. It’d just be yours to see, it is just yours to see anyways.”

Katara pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, the idea tempting. She’d never considered taking a photo of her partner in the nude before. She’d never let them do it before, either. But now… “Hand me my phone.”

He did, and he didn’t bother posing - he didn’t need to - just stood before her hard and proud, the smile on his lips lopsided. She only took one before tossing her phone to the side and lifting her arms in his direction. He happily went into them, bringing their bodies flush together. Then Zuko reached between them and guided his length home. He was finally inside of her, pressed nearly to the hilt, and it felt like he’d always meant to be there. Her gasp
was dramatic, but the stretch of him was so good it alone nearly pushed her over the edge. Every thrust that followed was nearly the same. Perfectly placed, the rhythm had her back arching and her fingers scratching at his back.

The moan that he drew from her lips was far from quiet and though it pleased him to hear it, his fingers went to her mouth. “Shhh,” He chastised, but did nothing to slow his torturous thrusts.

When she gasped loudly and a string of expletives came pouring out, his hand went firmly over her mouth. This, she found, she liked. Her eyes rolled back, and with her mouth covered he muffled the sounds enough for her to be able to moan nearly as much as she wanted.

“Fuckin’ hell, Katara,” He buried his face in her hair. His spare hand came between them, fingers seeking her bundle of nerves. “I want you to come again.”

She said something beneath his hand to the effect of “Please,” and he replaced his palm with his lips.

He drank deeply from her, every inch of their bodies pressed as closely together as possible.

Her thighs snapped hard around his waist, keeping him as close as possible when finally she fell over the precipice and into another orgasm. Zuko wasn’t far behind her, his hips stuttering against hers.

Afterwards, they held each other in the dark. A long moment passed before reality crept back in. Katara slipped quietly into the bathroom with her pile of clothes, and Zuko cleaned himself and the bed up. In the next room, Sokka continued to snore peacefully.

Chapter Text

Katara wondered if everyone could see it on her.

If when they looked at her they knew, without a doubt, that she was getting laid with shocking, delicious regularity. It was like she was walking around with a blinking sign hovering eight perfect inches above the top of her head. The words ‘Zuko Put His Penis In Me’ flashing in rarefied neon like a scarlet letter.

It had been a week since they’d gone to the house she’d shared with Jet and Katara had liberated her remaining belongings. A week since Zuko and Katara had first slept together. And then they’d done it every night since. She was like a woman possessed.

With dick.

Something had to be done about this.

Katara wobbled a little in her crow pose and tried to ignore the glances from On-Ji to her left. Her jaw clenched. She was not at all as relaxed as she wanted to be.

When their session ended for the day, On-Ji nudged Katara with her elbow while they stood repacking their gym bags. “Whats with you?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You just seem a little out of it today.”

“I feel a little out of it.” She admitted, letting out a deep breath when she did.

“Dooo you wanna talk about it?” She offered, and Katara considered it. Were they close enough to talk about these things together?

Katara guessed they were, since On-Ji was one of the three friends she’d made since moving to Ba Sing Se. But they hadn’t really ever talked about personal dramas. Mostly they just talked about yoga or pilates, sometimes the occasional other menial topic would slide into their conversation. She supposed that the only way you got to the point of talking to your friends about your love life was by talking to your friends about your love life.

“Maybe.” Katara pursed her lips. “Lets walk and talk.”

On-Ji nodded, her ponytail bobbing with the motion. “Sure. Let’s go to the Jasmine Dragon.”

Katara’s heart stuttered. She lived with the man, it made no sense that the prospect of seeing him in his uncle’s tea shop might make her feel giddy. But, alas, she felt a blush creeping up past the collar of her nylon zipper jacket.

In the heat of the mid morning sun, Katara contemplated how to breach the subject.

“Okay, so… I’m seeing someone. And I really like him. I mean, really really. He’s so sweet, and so good looking. Like, he’s top two hottest guys I’ve ever seen and he’s not number two. I mean he’s so good. A little scary, but not to me. But we haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Well, that’s pretty normal, I’d think. I mean most people don’t tell people right away when they start dating someone new.”

“Right. But, he’s my brother’s best friend. And his roommate. And also my roommate. So there's this whole extra layer of awkward uncomfiness that I’m just not equipped to deal with.” Katara flapped her hands to demonstrate the jumbled mess.

On-Ji gave a thoughtful hum and adjusted the strap of her gym bag to sit a little further up her shoulder. “Yeah, I can see that. And you’re scared to tell your brother?”

“Right. Because I’m worried he’ll be angry. Or worse. Disappointed.”

“Why would he be disappointed?”

“Well, y’know. Because we just had to go rescue all of the stuff I owned from the ex boyfriend I just broke up with? And I’ve already moved on with someone new? And we’ve also been hooking up right under his nose.”

This had her friend giving a little ‘oooo’. “You go girl. I knew you had that orgasm-someone-else-gave-me look about you.”

Katara didn’t really want to get into the dirty details of her sex life while walking the streets of Ba Sing Se towards a tea shop owned by her paramour’s uncle. Except, yes she did. “La, he’s good, it’s so good. I’m like, in constant awe.”

“You’re dickmatized. I’ve seen the signs a thousand times. Tsk-tsk. I’m proud of you, girl. Jealous, but proud.”

“We’ll get you someone next.” Thoroughly distracted from her earlier venting, Katara and On-Ji walked the last bit to the shop in companionable silence.

She felt the flutters in her stomach and tried to remind herself if was unlikely that Zuko would even be in the shop that day. But even so, she took inventory of herself in the shop’s tinted windows.

Dark hair was piled high in a particularly pineapple-y updo, and she’d worn a sports bra that did particularly good things for her breasts. Her skin had that pleasant, just worked out glow that didn’t look quite sweaty (thank you, low impact workouts). If she didn’t see him, at least she knew she looked good.

At first she didn’t. They sat at a small table near the window just like usual, and Katara let On-Ji order something caffeine free while she checked her phone for the first time in three hours. Most of her world was still asleep, though she did have a great deal of follower requests to filter through on her Cabbage app. She’d noticed an influx after Zuko had followed her. He didn’t follow many people and if she had to guess, she’d say the people who considered themselves a fan of him (weird, since he wasn’t really a celebrity) probably noticed when he added one more to the list.

She accepted very few of them, only letting the ones whose names she recognized, like Ty Lee and the Boulder, actually follow.

“Katara.”

She knew that voice, knew the way it said her name a thousand different ways. Each a smoky caress. Katara bit her lip and looked up to find Zuko standing beside her wearing a work worn t-shirt and blue jeans. He must’ve been doing work for his uncle because he was a little sweaty and there was a smudge of something on his jaw.

“Zuko!” She smiled. “If I’d known you were here, I would have gotten a table for three.”

“Oh, Zuko! Your roommate Zuko. Your brother’s roommate, Zuko. Look at that. All the pieces. Click. Haha.” On-Ji grinned from across the table.

Katara cut her eyes at her, but there was no malice in the glare. “Subtle.”

“She knows?” Katara got a sudden burst of anxiety. What if he got mad because she’d told someone? They hadn’t talked about divulging it with anyone outside of Sokka. “Good.” He leaned down and captured her lips in a firm, but all too brief, kiss.

When it broke, Katara barely kept herself from pouting. She wanted more.

“I’m gonna get back to work. Before you leave, come to the patio, let me show you what I’ve done.” A cheeky wink made her think that wouldn't be all he showed her. “It was nice seeing you again,” Zuko gave a wave to On-Ji before slipping out the shop’s backdoor.

“I see what you mean about him not being number two.”

They both giggled like middle schoolers over their shared celebrity crush. Then topics shifted to more mundane things, like work and school and social responsibilities.

It wasn’t long before their tea cups were emptied aside from a few stray leaves, which had made On-Ji remark that she wished she knew tasseography before they finally parted ways. Katara deposited the cups in the designated gray bin and waved to Iroh who was busy training a new hire during the visit.

Then she danced under the construction warning tape and out the door. “Zuko?” She called, finding the back patio a little larger than she’d expected. It hardly felt like Ba Sing Se. If not for the buildings on the adjacent sides, Katara would’ve thought she’d been transported to the country.

Zuko popped up from behind some shrubbery, a smile alighting his stern features. “What do you think?” He asked, gesturing to the patio.

“You did an amazing job. I’m shocked you put this together by yourself.” It reminded her a little of the sacred grove in the Northern Water Tribe. The oasis there felt like a break fromt he surrounding world, too. Though this was certainly less holy.

“Shocked? I know how to get my hands dirty.” He jogged over to her and put those hands on her hips.

“Oh, I know. Actually, I think it’s kind of hot. Look at you, Blue Collar Zuko is something I can get behind.”

“What about on top?”

She moaned around a grin. “That too.”

Then they kissed, finally, her hands slipping into his hair, his cupping her rear and bringing her in close. They nearly got lost in each other, but thankfully Zuko maintained enough composure to eventually break the kiss. Both were out of breath, the sun only making the steamy exchange even steamier. She squinted up at him. Almost said something she wasn’t sure she meant yet.

“Let me show you something,” He pulled her back to reality and led her just a little deeper into the garden. It wasn't so large, but he’d worked with a professional landscaper to make it seem like it’d been extended.

Near the back of the garden was an arbor trellis in full bloom with wisteria. It was a breathtaking view that had Katara gasping in awe.

“I cheated a little. I bought it all together in one piece. The gardener figured it’d die and didn’t want to move it, but with the right,” he cleared his throat, “motivation, we managed to get it here in one piece. And it seems to be doing okay. But time will tell.”

“You didn’t threaten him, did you?”

“No! No, of course not. He’s a gardener, not a mob boss. I didn’t hold the man up. But money moves. I can be very persuasive when I need to be…” He blinked at her like he was shocked she’d even think it of him. All she could do was offer a shrug. “Anyways… my uncle wants to be able to let people host stuff out here. Particularly weddings. And it is very pretty. It wasn’t exactly planned but… well… I wonder if nows as good a time as any.”

It was her turn to blink in shock. There was no way he was actually about to ask what she thought he was going to ask.

Zuko took her hands in his, dragged his thumb over one of her knuckles gently. The ring finger, she couldn’t help but notice.

“I know it’s only been a few weeks, so I understand if your answer is no. But… I was wondering… Do you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Chapter Text

Katara’s soft, prettily scented hair tickled Zuko’s nose from where she lay tucked under his chin. Her nail dragged along the dark ink of one of his tattoos. Though he was perfectly satiated from their earlier activities, laying there nude with her while she traced the sensitive skin near his nipple had him hyper aware of how badly he seemed to want her all of the time. His arm was tucked under her, holding her to his side. His thumb traced idle patterns onto the curve of her hip.

“Did they hurt?” She asked, following the bold curl of the Nuo mask tattooed on one of his pecs.

His voice was a little hoarse when he spoke, “Like a bitch. It’s an addictive pain, though.” She’d asked the question before, but he didn’t mind answering.

“I want one. Not as big as yours, though. I’m not brave enough for that, I think.”

“You’d look hot covered in tattoos.” Zuko’s hand went to her hair to guide her in for a kiss.

It deepend quickly. When they parted, breathless and panting, she grinned down at him. “Terrible influence. We’ll see what the future holds.” Then she reached between them to stroke him slowly before adjusting herself above him. The blanket fell from her shoulders, the moonlight cast her in its pale glow. Zuko slid his hand over the dip of her waist, across her stomach to just beneath her bellybutton.

When he was buried inside of her, his thumb dipped between her folds to kick up a rhythm against her clit. Katara rode him languorously, both of them still sensitive from earlier orgasms. He squeezed her hip with the unoccupied hand, gaze alternating from her face to her breasts then down to where their bodies were joined and up again.

“When do you want to go,” He asked, voice strained and even smokier than usual.

“Let’s go today. Let’s be spontaneous.”

Mai would take a walk-in, he was sure. “Today,” He nodded. The club was still open downstairs, but it had to be close to three a.m. The bed squeaked beneath them, though neither of them paid any heed to the sound of the springs. Zuko’s hips thrust beneath her, desperate for her to move faster. Desperate to come again. He didn’t want it to be over soon or anything, he’d happily spend the entire Saturday beneath her. But the pace was torturous, and he was fairly certain that was on purpose. “Fuck, Katara. Faster, please.”

She ground her hips into him. “Make me.”

He growled, then he gripped her hips hard and flipped them over. Zuko hovered above her for a moment, considering all of the ways he wanted her. “On your knees,” He instructed. Katara scrambled up, arching her back so that her chest was on the disheveled comforter and her hips were angled up towards him.

“Agni, take it,” He groaned, cupping his hand over the hot, wet center of her. Zuko dipped two fingers inside, relishing in the delicious squeeze.

“Please, Zuko,” she wiggled her hips while she watched him over her shoulder. Her dark hair fanned out around her, tangled from their night of activity. He could hardly deny her pleas and moments later one large hand pressed at the base of her spine, using this for leverage.

He wasn’t particularly gentle, because at this point he knew she didn’t want him to be. His hips snapped roughly against hers, their moans a familiar chorus in the dark of Zuko’s bedroom. Zuko wasn’t in a good position to reach around her and push her closer to orgasm, but he saw one of her hands disappear between her thighs. Her toes curled, eyes screwed shut.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me. Let me feel you.” The hand on her back slid to her hip, gripping hard while he continued to thrust.

She mumbled incoherently, then, “I’m coming. Fuck, yes, I’m coming,” And then she was. Her whole body tensed around him. It was nearly impossible not to come right then and there. She felt so good around him. He clenched his jaw and continued to fuck her through her orgasm. When he couldn’t take it any longer, he pulled out of her, and it didn’t take many more strokes before he was coming across her back in thick strands.

When their breathing had evened out again, Zuko climbed off of his bed on shaky legs and snatched a discarded shirt to wipe her back clean. Then he pressed a kiss to her ear, which made her give a little pleased hum.

“I should go take a shower.” She sighed, pushing herself to a sitting position. “I don’t want to get dressed though.”

“So don’t. Use my shower.”

Katara looked over at the door to Zuko’s en suite. She’d peed in there on occasion, but she’d never used his shower. She always said it was because all of her soaps were in the other bathroom and she hadn’t gotten around to moving them. He didn’t have the curl creams and specialty sugar scrubs just laying around, but his own shampoo was far from lacking. Zuko had kept up a careful skin and haircare routine since he was young. Unlike Sokka, who he was fairly certain he’d heard had used that dish soap used to clean up animals trapped in oil spills once when his own soap had run out. ‘If it’s good enough for turtleducks, it’s good enough for me’, he’d said. Zuko found the thought horrifying.

“Join me?”

“Absolutely.” He followed her gladly. Following her was one of the easiest things he’d ever done.

—

They slept until noon. It was later than either of them usually would, but probably still earlier than their housemates.

Katara crept into the hallway and tiptoed down the hall to her own room. Before she could make it all the way, Sokka’s bedroom door creaked open. Thankfully it was Suki who slipped out. Both stopped and stared at each other for a moment before cracking matching smiles.

“Walk of shame.” Suki joked, then her brow furrowed. “Walk of shame?” Her eyes flicked to Zuko’s closed door. “Katara! Updates! Now!”

“Shh!” Katara hissed, then she grabbed Suki and pulled her into her bedroom. “Zuko and I are dating. We started sleeping together after we all went to get my stuff from Jet’s house. He asked me to be his girlfriend a few days ago.”

Suki squealed a little, a quiet, shrill sound that reminded Katara of the sleepovers she used to have as a girl. The sort where they’d stay up all night and cut out pictures of teen heartthrobs from the hoards of magazines each girl would bring. “I can’t believe it! You’re fucking Zuko! You’re fucking my boss. Ew. He’s like my work dad.”

“Gross, don’t call him that.”

They both laughed. “Well. He does pay my bills.”

Katara groaned and moved over to her closet. “Fine. I’m sleeping with your work dad, and you’re sleeping with my real-brother. I think we’re even.”

“I guess you’re right.” Suki watched while Katara thumbed through her clothes, pulling out item after item only to reject it and put it back. “What are you trying to find?”

“I’m getting a tattoo.” She held up a blue halter top. Katara had no clue where she was going to get the tattoo, though she sort of knew what she wanted, and this shirt had the most skin access. That or a tube top, but the idea of fighting a war to keep it in place all day just seemed like too much.

“You’re getting a tattoo! Joining the cool kids club, huh?”

According to her weather app, it was too cool out not to go for layers. The only hoodie she could find was one she’d had since high school, her school name and her hockey team emblazoned on the front. “I’ve fallen victim to peer pressure.”

Suki laid back on Katara’s bed, propping herself up on her elbow. “Good. Who’s doing it?”

Katara looked at her like she was surprised at the question. “Mai, of course.”

When Suki’s eyes widened, she wondered if she’d missed something. “You’re letting Zuko’s ex girlfriend give you a tattoo?”

“Well, yeah. Didn’t she do all of yours?”

“Yeah, but I never fucked her ex.” Suki said with a shrug.

Katara clucked disapprovingly. “It’d be very petty if Mai held that against me, considering she’s in a throuple with his sister.”

“Okay, very true.” Then she gave Katara a genuine smile, “I don’t think I ever said it, but I think the two of you would be cute together. Congrats. When are you going to go public?”

She sighed. “Soon, I think. I’ve just really enjoyed having this to myself. And after what happened with Jet, I kind of don’t want eyes on my relationship. But I don’t want to be secretive forever.” Katara stuffed her hands in her hoodie pockets. “Okay, no more boy talk. When’s your next game?”

“Next Sunday. You should come. Better yet, you should play.” Suki was always trying to get Katara to join her team, no matter how many times Katara insisted she didn’t do sports anymore. She got a little too zealous with the competition part of things, and it always seemed to devolve into violence. That’s why she’d been so good at hockey. It’s also why she’d moved to individual sports. Teamwork was great, but if you gave Katara a weapon and told her to swing, then she’s gonna swing. Casualties were a necessary part of war and rugby.

“I’m not going to play, but I’ll very gladly come cheer you on.”

There was a gentle knock at her door, then Zuko’s voice on the other side. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes! Lemme just grab my purse.” A lick of unfurled in her stomach, and she let out a shaky breath. “Tattoo time.”

“Tattoo time! Brave girl. It’s not gonna hurt at all.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“It’s gonna hurt so bad.”

Katara slung her crossbody over her shoulder and opened the door to Zuko on the other side. Suki followed her out into the hall.

“Look at you, you stud. I can’t believe you convinced Kat to get a tattoo.”

Zuko seemed confused. “Stud?”

“She knows.” Katara explained simply.

“Oh, well. I don’t know about studly , but I am very lucky.”

“Thats so cute! You’re so cute! Okay, go get stabbed before Sokka wakes up and wants to know why you smell like Zuko.” Suki shooed them down the hall and they went off together.

Once they were outside, Zuko twined his fingers through Katara’s. She squeezed back, her thumb passing gently over the ridges of his knuckles.

Mai’s tattoo studio was only a block away from Dancing Dragons, so despite the chill and the wind they walked down. They spoke of menial, distracting things as they went. But despite that, by the time Katara was standing outside of The Silver Dagger she was starting to get a little antsy. Zuko bent to press a quick kiss to her lips.

“Don’t worry. It’ll feel like a cat scratch. Not bad at all. I know for a fact that you’ve taken worse.”

She nudged him with her shoulder. “Saucy. I know it won’t be that bad. But I’m nervous anyways. It’s like getting a shot. It only takes a second but I still dread it all day.” Katara looked at the front door and it’s dark tinting, then shuttered like she was shaking out all of the tension. “Let's go in.”

The music inside was loud, heavy metal mixing with the buzz of tattoo machines and the conversations between artist and client. A bald man in a sweater and beanie combination sat behind the counter, he reminded Katara of Aang, if it wasn’t for the thick mustache and the tattoos she saw over his collar. He looked up when they approached, a grin appearing when he made eye contact with Katara. It widened when he'd given her a once-over, then faltered when he looked at Zuko.

“Hey, how can I help?”

“Are you new?” Zuko asked, hardly even looking at him. He was glancing around, probably trying to find Mai.

“Uh, yeah. Did you wanna get a tattoo? Or a piercing?”

Zuko started to speak, probably to say something dismissive, so Katara interrupted. “I wanted to get a tattoo,” She pulled out her phone to show him the simple design she’d decided on.

“Kaito, I got ‘em.” A smoky voice called over the music. A woman, tall and thin, walked over. She had to be Mai, and the first thing Katara noticed was that she was beautiful. Her hair was as inky a black as Zuko’s, thick and shiny. The bulk of it was twisted at the back of her head in a claw clip. She had more tattoos than Zuko, and most of them were on display thanks to the black tank top she wore. Unlike Zuko, her tattoo’s extended past her collar. She even had one on her face, a slim dagger tucked close to her ear. She also had quite a few piercings. One in her lip, two in her nose, and her bridge. It was very symmetrical.

Kaito slid aside in his wheelie chair, and Mai gestured for Katara to show her the phone screen. Mai looked over the simple wave tattoo design she wanted, “Cute.” She glanced up at Katara, “Where do you want it?”

“I was thinking my hip, maybe.” Katara lifted her sweater up to show the spot.

“Okay, cool. I’ll need you to fill this out. Do you have your I.D?”

They did all of the boring bits quickly. Katara filled out the form while Mai drew the design on a piece of stencil paper. When they were both done, Mai took Katara back to her booth. The wall was decorated in Mai’s flash, both the traditional style of Zuko’s and more modern, horror-style pieces. She recognized some, like the Koh the Face Stealer drawing. That movie had terrified her the one time she’d braved watching it.

“The paperwork and set up will probably take longer than the actual tattoo.” Mai warned with what might have been considered a playful quirk of her red-painted lips, but her monotone voice made it hard to tell.

Katara pulled her hoodie over her head and folded it neatly on the corner of the paper-topped bed. “Yeah. I just couldn’t think of anything bigger than that that I wanted right now.”

“No judgment from me. My first tattoo was a little frowny face I poked into myself with an ink pen. Zuko probably remembers. I was too scared to rebel against my father and he did not believe women should have tattoos.” She shrugged, not looking at her while she continued to put together all of the necessary bits. “I don’t talk to him any more, though. So, what was there to stop me from doing whatever the fuck I wanted.”

Katara smiled at this. Mai came over to prep the hip she wanted tattooed before carefully placing the stencil.

“Good spot,” Zuko remarked when she peeled the stencil off.

Katara was a little distracted looking at the purple ink on her skin, but she blushed at the compliment anyways. “Thank you.”

“Like it?” Mai asked, pulling on her gloves. When Katara voiced her assent, Mai had her climb up on the table. She wheeled over on her own chair, then picked up the machine she’d put together a few moments prior. “Alright, y’ready?”

She doubted she was, but Katara nodded anyways. When the machine buzzed to life, Katara flinched. Zuko squeezed her hand. “None of that. Don’t want her to get off line.”

“I would never,” Mai lined the needle up, but before it made contact, Zuko’s attention shifted. Another woman had walked over - Azula, Katara recognized - and without bothering to say a greeting to anyone she grabbed Zuko’s forearm.

“We need to talk.” She squeezed his arm. “Now.”

Zuko looked down at Katara, “Just a moment. You guys go ahead.”

Katara nodded and watched as they walked away. Mai regained her attention. “I’m gonna start going if you’re ready.” Again, Katara gave a nod.

Once she’d started the slow pull of the needle along the stencil, Mai spoke again. “So you guys are together? Ty Lee says no, but it looks to me like she’s wrong.

“We… we are. Yeah. But it isn’t public or anything.”

“Why?” Mai hadn’t looked up at her, just kept dragging the machine against her skin. “Are you embarrassed?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Good.” Mai leaned back, lifting the machine and giving her skin a wipe. “Don’t fuck with him. I like him. If you hurt him, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“I don’t plan on hurting him.”

Mai used a napkin dampened by something pleasant smelling to clean the excess ink off of Katara’s skin. “Alright. We’re done here.”

“Really?” Katara sat up and looked at the dainty tattoo now etched into her skin. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“Next time, let me do something fun.” Again, that little smile was paired with her deadpan tone.

Katara paid while she waited for Zuko to finish talking to his sister. When he finally came and retrieved her, his brow was furrowed and his shoulders were tense.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” He lied, then thought better of it. “No, actually. Um. My father? He, uh, he escaped - or, rather, he was broken out - of prison.”

Chapter Text

It had been two days since Zuko had gotten the news that his father, Ozai, had broken out of prison. They hadn’t lingered long after he’d found out, and Zuko had been a little paranoid on their walk back home, so it wasn’t the same easy going stroll they’d taken on their way out to the tattoo shop. Katara had understood why, but she wished he’d been more forthcoming. Not that discussing his feelings had ever been Zuko’s strong suit.

He’d spent a lot of the day after at the police station and talking to prison guards. He’d been pent up when he got back, biting at his knuckles and eventually leaving to go to the gym. Then he stayed at the club nearly until closing. As far as she knew, he hadn’t told any of the other roommates what had happened, and Katara wondered if that was a good idea. But from the tightlipped look on his face and the way he was constantly wincing and dragging his hand across his scar like it was bothering him, she second guessed pushing him. So, when midnight came on the second day and she heard him come up into the apartment, she hadn’t expected to see him. She was in her room, since she figured he’d spend the night in the club the same way he had before, and she didn’t make a move to go to him when she heard him go into his own room and slam the door behind him. But a few minutes later her own door opened. She hadn’t managed to get to sleep, but she pretended anyway. Her breathing evened out and her eyes closed. Katara did her best to ignore the way the bed dipped when he slid in behind her. He didn’t move in close or wrap his arms around her, just laid inches away, warming the air around her the way he always did.

She turned and they lay shoulder to shoulder for a while, then her hand slowly closed the gap between them, intertwining their fingers. She squeezed, and he squeezed back. Eventually, they slept.

On the third day, Zuko’s frustrating silence continued. Sokka and Aang were sound asleep following a night at the club when Katara found him drinking tea in front of the window, staring out at the lively morning city.

“Zuko,” Her quiet voice interrupted whatever thought he was having. She didn’t know exactly what to say, feeling like most of their conversations the past few days had been stilted and short. Katara didn’t want that - it was in her nature to butt in. She’d always tried to be a safe space for people, motherly when it was needed. Some people were a little more stubborn than others.

He turned his head in her direction, the morning sun golden against the slope of his nose and the dark curl of his lashes. He looked so lovely, and so tired, his lack of sleep a bruise under his eye.

“Have you heard anything else?”

“Not from the cops. Or from Toph.” He didn’t say anything more forthcoming than that.

Katara dropped her gym bag on the ground and sidled up beside him. After a moment, and with noted reluctance, Zuko wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close.

“Is there anything I can do?”

He chuckled low and sardonic. “There isn’t anything anyone can do right now. Except maybe something drastic.”

She let her hand slide a comforting path across his broad shoulders. “Drastic how?”

“It isn’t…” His jaw works. “Katara, my father… my family… they aren’t like yours. They aren’t good.”

“You’re good. Your uncle is good. Your sister… seems nice.” Karara gave him a half smile. “They’ll find him. He won’t be able to hurt you.”

A calloused thumb traced the high point of her cheekbone. “It isn’t me I’m worried about.” Zuko swallowed and took a step back before walking into the kitchen and depositing his mug in the sink.

Katara followed. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to protect me against your father.”

“I know. But you shouldn’t have to.”

“He hasn’t tried anything yet. Don’t push me away, Zuko, I can decide what I can and can’t handle.”

“But you shouldn’t have to—“

“But I can.” She fisted her hands in the fabric of his shirt and tugged him close. “Let me? If it comes to it, let me.”

He didn’t agree, but he did brush his lips against hers in the start of a kiss. A properly distracting one that soon had her braced against the counter with her legs hooked around his waist.

She was dressed for her yoga class and he couldn’t get his hand under her sports bra well enough to mold her breast the way he clearly wanted, but his thumb rolling over her pebbled nipple had her sighing against his mouth all the same. She arched her back, her hips rolling against the hardness she could feel growing between them, and he pressed closer. It was so good she didn’t even think she’d mind if he tore the seams of her overpriced leggings if it meant he’d be inside of her.

It wasn’t until he wrenched away with a curse that she noticed the ringing. And it wasn’t until he was answering the phone that she realized that it was coming from him.

“What the fuck do you mean?” His voice was terse and quiet, hushed words coming rapidly as he turned away from her and paced from the spot they’d been standing together in.

She watched him, her body cooling slowly from the loss of his overwhelming heat.

“Where? I want details, I want to know every fucking second that he was here. Who saw him?” He glanced over his shoulder at her for barely a second. “Yeah, I’m coming. I’m leaving now.”

And then he was gone, flying out the door and down the stairs to the parking lot below, leaving her there trying to put the pieces together from the one-sided conversation.