love me now (m) | 01
(Gif credit)
in which you have sex via FaceTime.
pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)
genre: established relationship!au, mature.
warnings: dirty talking, praise kink, masturbation.
author’s note: tell me why i’m blushing while posting this lmao you can tell i haven’t written smut in years.
chapter index
“I really miss you.”
Johnny laughs quietly at your pouty face, causing the image to shake for a few seconds.
“I left this morning.”
“Still!” You defend yourself, head on the pillows and arm raised, holding the phone up so that Johnny can see your face. “The house’s so quiet. I hate it here.”
“You should’ve come with me, then.”
“I have to work, Johnny, it’s not like I didn’t want to go.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s accusations. He raises an eyebrow as if doubting your word. You know he’s only playing, but it bothers you a little. “Besides, you know how much I love your mother’s cooking, how could I say no to that?”
“Well, for your information, she won’t accept a no next time. She said she’ll cook all your favorite dishes.”
You laugh softly at that, flattered. You’ve been in a relationship with Johnny for two years, yet she loves and takes care of you as if you had dated for decades. Even if you can't go visit Johnny's parents that much, they still treat you like a queen every time you go there. You’re so fortunate to have them and their son in your life.
“She’s so cute. Tell them I love them.”
“I will.” Johnny places his free arm behind his neck and rests his head on it. “Tell me about your day. Did you have fun?”
“Oh, yes.” You hadn’t been able to go out with your whole group for months, ones too busy with work and studies, others trying to get their lives together. Managing to gather them in the same place had been such a challenge but so worthy. “Rosie’s starting a new job tomorrow, Jane will defend her PhD next month, and Jamie’s going to Hawaii on a spiritual retreat or some shit. Oh, and she made out with a waiter. And a bartender.”
Johnny scoffs in disbelief. “Classic Jamie.”
“It was a bet, actually.” And you lost 20 dollars, but you aren’t telling him that. “Wait a minute, my arm’s getting tired.” You rest the phone against the pillows and roll until you're lying on your stomach in front of it, hand supporting your chin.
“Is that my T-shirt?” Johnny asks out of nowhere. You’re speechless, having forgotten about it. Yes, you’re wearing Johnny’s favorite T-shirt, given by his father when he turned 16. It’s dark grey, with a drawing and the band’s name on the front: Coldplay. It fits Johnny perfectly but is huge enough to cover your body like a dress when you wear it.
“Yeah.” An embarrassed laugh leaves your lips because, up until now, Johnny didn’t know that you wear his clothes whenever he’s away. “It smells like you, makes me feel less lonely.”
“You’re so cute.” His eyes form a pair of crescent moons as he smiles, making your embarrassment grow.
“Stop!” Your face falls flat on the mattress in an attempt to hide away from his gaze.
“I mean it, you look so pretty.” You giggle against the soft covers. It doesn’t matter how much Johnny compliments you, you’ll never get used to it. “I’d so fuck you in that.”
You raise your head so fast that you hear your neck crack. You aren’t laughing anymore, but you still smile. Johnny, on the other hand, is dead serious.
“Control yourself, sir, you’re in your parent’s house.”
“How can you tell me to control myself when you look that hot?” That wipes your smile away, his words causing the effect he wants, triggering a heatwave that takes over your body.
There’s a subtle wetness growing between your legs, even if he has barely said anything. That’s the power Johnny has over you. One look, one word, is enough. You look directly into his dark eyes, filled with lust, and you chuckle.
“Fine, you’ve got all my attention. Tell me what you would do to me.”
Johnny licks his lips before speaking. His words come out slowly, dragging them more than necessary. He keeps his voice low, not wanting to disturb his parents. If they catch him dirty talking via FaceTime, it’s over for you both.
“I'd start by rubbing that cunt of yours.”
You slide down the bed and get on your knees, making sure that Johnny can see your face and body. You place a hand on your thigh, gently moving it upwards to your wet core, giving yourself goosebumps. You touch yourself over the thin fabric of your blue underwear, letting out an obnoxious moan. Johnny's reaction is immediate, a quiet curse slipping out of his lips.
You sight. “Like this?”
“Yes, like that.” He says, eyes fixed on your movements. There’s a hint of desperation in his voice, of neediness. “Take off your underwear, babe, let me see you.”
It’s not a plea, but an order. You love when Johnny bosses you around in bed; when he loses his patience and manhandles you until he has you where he wants. And it looks like the dynamic will never change, not even when he’s in Chicago, in his childhood room. You throw your panties aside and go back to the same position, knees on the mattress, fingers rubbing your clit now.
“Fuck, I’m so wet.”
You press your fingertips against your folds, waiting for instructions. Johnny moves his arm from behind his head and it disappears from the frame. A soft growl erupts from his throat, letting you know that he’s pleasuring himself, too.
“Touch yourself for me, baby girl.” The pet name has you drooling, rushing to insert a finger inside of you, slowly, to make sure Johnny can enjoy the moment. Then, he demands. “I want to see your body. Lift the T-shirt.”
You rush to grab the hem of the garment but take your sweet time to pull it up, teasing him. He clenches his jaw and the image shakes a bit. You close your eyes and picture Johnny’s hand around his dick, the leaking tip red and angry. You imagine him using his pre cum as a lube, his hand moving up and down, but never being satisfied, because only you can get him off. You bring the hem of the T-shirt to your mouth and bite it, keeping it up so that he can see your naked body.
“Shit... add another finger.”
You listen and slide in a second finger, the feeling of being stretched making you moan louder. It's a good thing Johnny has AirPods on.
You move your fingers in and out, desperate and lost in the view in front of you: Johnny has closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, leaving his neck deliciously exposed. You wish you could kiss it, bite it, mark him. You know he loves that kinky shit. Unconsciously, your fingers move faster, the sound of your juices flooding the room. You wonder if Johnny can hear that.
“Does it feel good, babe?” He asks, eyes falling on you again. You nod frenetically, unable to form any other words right now. “Fuck, you look so pretty. Are you a good girl?”
You fall apart every time he compliments you. You clench around your fingers and, again, all you do is nod. You moan in between sighs, biting on the T-shirt as you throw your head back. The fabric is all damp and your tongue is dry.
With your free hand, you rub your clit as your fingers reach further inside you. You wish Johnny was the one fucking you right now, your fingers being nothing compared to him. Hell, you want him so bad. Why does he have to be so far away?
Johnny growls again. “You're doing so good.”
Your mind is all over the place. Johnny's words encourage you to add another finger, even if he doesn't order you to do so. Johnny pants quietly enough so his parents don't hear him, but you do. Your hand cups your sex every time you thrust with your fingers, your climax getting closer and closer.
You open your mouth and the T-shirt slides down a bit. You grab it in a fist over your chest, making sure Johnny still has access to your body.
“John, I'm so close.” You whine with your eyes closed shut, the knot in your stomach growing with every caress of your clit.
“Wait for me, baby.” Once again, he demands. “You can do that, right?”
You're not sure if you can, but still, you nod, wanting to make Johnny proud. You want to be a good girl, so you keep pumping your fingers.
“But I want to see you touching yourself, please.”
“Sure, babe.”
Johnny smirks, and then his face disappears from your screen. Instead, you welcome the amazing view of his hand pumping his dick, erect and red. It looks so delicious you wish you could put it in your mouth. Damn, the things you would do if he was here with you. The image’s enough to send you over the edge, but you still try by all means to delay your orgasm. And it works, at least until you hear Johnny calling your name.
“Johnny, I can't-”
He must have noticed your desperation because his next words come out softly. “Cum, baby, cum for me.”
By the time you’re able to finish, your hand aches like hell. Your hand gets caught in between your legs as you cum. Your orgasm feels like an electric shock that shakes you to the bone as you call Johnny, desperately. You witness him finishing seconds later, white ropes landing on his stomach, abs clenching as your name slips from his mouth like a prayer. You thrust your fingers a few more times, riding your orgasm until the feeling fades away.
You pull them out, both hands landing on the bed before you fall on it, rolling to your side. You’re tired and sweaty, and the T-shirt sticks to your skin. Only your pants can be heard for a moment. Shortly after, Johnny switches the camera again.
“Fuck, that was hot.” He pushes his hair back, panting. “You’re so hot. I love you.”
The compliment fills you with pride, but his confession makes you smile widely, stupidly.
“I love you, too.”
You close your eyes for a few seconds, only opening them at the sound of Johnny’s voice. “Go sleep, princess, you’re tired.”
“No.” You whine. “I want to stay a little longer.”
“You’re literally falling asleep as we speak.”
There’s something in his eyes that makes you melt: adoration. You love it when Johnny looks at you like this.
“Nonsense.”
“I’ll call you in the morning, alright?”
You pout, closing your eyes again. His voice is so soothing that you could fall asleep as he speaks. “Promise me.”
“I pinky-promise you.”
“Okay...” You giggle. “Goodnight, baby.”
“Goodnight, princess.” He zooms in on his lips, and teasingly whispers. “Dream of me.”
Hell, you miss him so much.
No reposting or translations allowed.
© epinebleue 2023
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WiP Wednesday: The Blue Spirit is a Bitch LMAO
This WiP Wednesday brought to you by “wouldn’t it be funny if only Zuko could see the Blue Spirit and they’re just damned annoying?”
So far, I’m working on Chapter 6 of this, so here’s some random scenes that make me laugh and/or cry.
From the very beginning, taking place during/before Zuko Alone.
In Zuko’s defense, if he’d known that the Blue Spirit was real, he never would’ve used their name! In point of fact, the correct name for his mask was the Dark Water Spirit, but that seemed like a technicality that wouldn’t matter to the spirit he’d apparently offended.
You steal my name, my face… the spirit rumbled, something about their voice sending chills down his spine, I will take you up on the offer.
Zuko gulped. He hadn’t meant to offer anything.
Somehow, he didn’t think they cared.
You want to be the Blue Spirit, they said, and the thing in front of Zuko grinned a wide, creepy grin. Wish granted.
Very abruptly, Zuko’s constant headache spiked enough to make his vision white out.
When he blinked back to awareness, he was lying on his back in the grass and the sun had begun to start peeking over the horizon. Perhaps that was what had woken him, because typically, Agni’s rays energized him.
He could use some energizing right now, because he felt like he’d been hit with a fucking airship traveling full speed.
“Ugh,” he groaned, rubbing his head. “What–?”
Oh come now, it’s not that bad, that chilling voice from earlier spoke and Zuko’s eyes snapped open to see that the bizarre creature in front of him – it almost looked human, except for the complete lack of features beyond the freaky smile – was still there, but had also become solid in a way they weren’t before. When he moved, they followed him. You’re stuck with me, they grinned.
Oh Agni, what had Zuko gotten himself into?
Given his complete lack of supplies, heading for the nearest town seemed sensible, but as soon as he grew close enough to hear the bustle of people, he knew it was a mistake. He could see something weird surrounding each person, a kind of colorful haze that – oh. Oh, dammit, had Ty Lee been right about auras this whole time!?
Ugh, if so, he owed her a massive apology, because he’d always dismissed the silly idea.
It was disorienting, but Zuko fixed his eyes on the ground, only glancing up briefly to ensure he was going in the right direction and not going to hit anyone. No one reacted to his new ‘friend’, despite the clearly inhuman appearance of them.
Yeah, no one else can see me, the Blue Spirit said casually, stretching strangely blob-like hands over their head. Ah, it feels good to move around. I’ve been cooped up in that stupid grove for way too long.
Zuko frowned, wondering if he should ask – but the last thing he needed was to draw attention by talking to himself.
Maybe the spirit would go away and it would become a moot point?
He snorted quietly. Yeah, his life was never that kind.
From Ch 2, where The Chase takes place
A few days later, he actually felt fairly stable with the whole seeing auras thing and the spirit that only he could perceive haunting him.
Actually, it was… weirdly kind of nice? To not be alone. Even though the Blue Spirit was creepy, it was nice to have someone during the long trek across the rocky plains.
A flutter of something beige caught his attention and his hand snapped out automatically to grab what turned out to be… hair?
Specifically, bison hair. The Avatar was nearby.
Heart suddenly pounding with hope, Zuko wondered if perhaps this was his chance to change everything. If he could just capture the Avatar, then – then – then what? He was considered a traitor to the Fire Nation with orders to be executed on sight. What could he actually do if he did manage to catch the Avatar?
Which was far from guaranteed. He’d never successfully held the Avatar for more than a few hours before, and even then, he’d had a blizzard to help him.
Huh, the Avatar really is back? The Blue Spirit asked. Where have they fucking been?
“Uh,” Zuko coughed. He wasn’t wholly sure, but… “I think they got frozen or something?”
…you’re kidding, right?
Zuko just shrugged, changing direction to follow the trail of bison fur. Maybe he didn’t know what to do if he caught the Avatar… but he had to try.
He literally had no other purpose in this world now.
Well, I wouldn’t quite say that, the Blue Spirit grinned. He was starting to get used to seeing that grin on a face with no other features, including no eyes, but it was still creepy. You are the Blue Spirit now.
Zuko frowned. “What does that mean?”
Their grin just widened and Zuko tried not to worry too much about it, but his hackles were definitely up when he spotted the abandoned village in the distance. The Avatar had probably gone there, which meant Zuko would be going there.
For three years, his entire purpose had been pursuing the Avatar. He didn’t know how to stop doing that, especially when he had nothing else. So maybe he didn’t have a great chance of capturing Aang (based on all of their past encounters and Zuko’s usual luck), but he had to at least try.
Never give up without a fight. Intriguing concept.
Zuko scowled at the Blue Spirit, stomping towards town.
Then he saw blue fire blossom above one of the buildings and suddenly, he had cause to run. If Azula was here, if Azula was after the Avatar – no. He had to stop her. Without the Avatar, he had no way of ever returning home. He couldn’t let her take that hope from him, even if it was a frail and fading hope.
When Zuko made his appearance on the scene, Azula and Aang were facing off down a street – so he threw a blast of fire between them and jumped down from the neighboring rooftop, landing lightly on his feet.
Concerned primarily with not breaking his legs, Zuko hadn’t really made notice of what his fire looked like. But Azula had.
“White fire? Really, Zuzu? Can you grow anymore freakish?”
He bared his teeth, snarling at her, but part of him was startled to note that she was right. Instead of the usual orange-red, his fire came out white when he struck.
He had no idea what was up with that, but he set it aside. Maybe it was a side effect of the whole spirit possession thing.
What was important was that the white fire was even hotter than Azula’s blue fire, and he could see on her face when she realized it, her calm veneer broken by a frown. Then she moved, darting between buildings, and the chase was on.
The Avatar followed her, too, and Zuko shot a few blasts at them just to keep them out of the way and on their toes. (If some of those blasts happened to cause them to jump out of the way of Azula’s shots, then that was pure coincidence.)
Zuko’s main focus was Azula. As much as he wanted to capture the Avatar, Azula was the more prominent threat.
She laughed. “So you really are a traitor. How delightful. Father will be pleased when I bring back your corpse.”
Zuko flinched.
“What–?” the Avatar started, brow furrowed in confusion, but Zuko couldn’t look at them. He had to stay focused on Azula, or she would take advantage of his distraction.
The fight continued and he wasn’t quite sure when the others showed up, but somehow, six of them ended up backing Azula up against a wall, bending (and boomerang) at the ready.
She held her hands up with calm deliberation. “Well, look at this,” she smirked. “Enemies and traitors, all working together.” She raised her hands in a peaceful gesture, but there was no way she was actually accepting defeat. “I know when I'm beaten. You got me. A princess surrenders with honor.”
“Like fuck,” Zuko couldn’t help but retort, and her eyes narrowed.
“You’ve never known anything about honor,” she responded and he couldn’t help his flinch.
“That is not true,” Uncle said firmly, somehow here beside him along with the Avatar’s group.
Azula smirked slightly. “Do you doubt my royal word?”
“Every word you say is a lie,” Zuko said automatically, because it was true. Azula always lied.
“Oh good,” Azula said casually, “then you know I’m lying when I say that I’ve missed you, dear Brother. The palace just hasn’t been the same without you. So quiet, so tranquil – so much better without you there.”
Again, Zuko couldn’t hide his flinch and Azula’s smirk sharpened.
It was only the Blue Spirit’s warning to block that let him raise a fire wall in front of all of them, unsure of who Azula was aiming for. Her blue fire combined with his white and exploded, sending them all flying back with a wave of heat.
Zuko managed to land on his feet. He was the only one.
A quick assessment of their surroundings showed that the Avatar’s group and Uncle had fallen to the ground, and Azula was nowhere to be seen.
“Fuck,” he swore quietly, moving to help his Uncle up.
“Thank you, Nephew,” Uncle smiled at him as though things were at all normal. “It is good to see you well.”
“...yeah.”
“Azula’s gone,” announced the Avatar’s strategist – the fucker with the damned boomerang. His name was… Suki? Socket? No, that didn’t seem right.
“That doesn’t mean we can let our guards down,” the waterbender said icily, glaring at Zuko.
Which… fair enough, but suddenly, his motivation to fight the Avatar and get blown through walls was waning. He already hurt enough. He really didn’t need to add additional injuries to his collection.
Aang looked at him with innocence and a slight smile, aura bright like sunshine. “Hi, Zuko,” he greeted, as though they weren’t enemies.
Zuko had no idea what to do with that. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a silent groan.
“Who the fuck are you?” the little Earth Kingdom girl that had apparently joined the Avatar’s group asked.
“Who are you?” he asked in return.
She grinned widely and honestly, it was almost on the same level of creepy as the Blue Spirit’s smiles. He swallowed back a shudder.
“I’m Toph Beifong,” she introduced, “I’m the Greatest Earthbender in the World!”
Zuko blinked, staring at her. “Aren’t you like… ten?”
“Twelve,” she corrected. “And if you don’t believe me, I’d be delighted to demonstrate.”
Something told Zuko that this demonstration would be very painful.
“...I’ll take your word for it,” he decided. Mostly, he was too tired to deal with getting beat up, but he could admit – bright blue streaks of confidence dominated in her aura and he figured that probably meant she could back up her claims.
“So… are we fighting?”
Zuko sighed, really wishing he had a better answer than, ‘do I have to?’
Of course he had to. His Father had assigned him the task of capturing the Avatar. He could not fail. Again. He had too many failures on his record as it was.
But also… his ribs were still healing and frankly, getting blown through a building did not sound appealing.
“Was I imagining things or was your fire white?” Aang asked.
Zuko just shrugged, but yeah, it had been, and he had no idea what that was about.
White fire is not achievable by humans, the Blue Spirit said casually, walking around Aang and examining the Avatar. But you are no longer human.
Zuko’s eye widened and he almost choked at the words. What the fuck did that mean?
You’re me now, remember? The Blue Spirit’s grin was feral and Zuko gulped.
“Right,” he muttered.
And a little later:
“I have a proposal,” Uncle began. “We are all tired and worn. Perhaps we can make camp, get some rest, and deal with things later?”
Zuko sent his Uncle a disbelieving glance. No way would they consent to sleeping with him around. Why the fuck would they!? He was their enemy!
“Okay!” Aang agreed instantly.
“Not okay!” exclaimed the strategist – seriously, what was his name? Zuko really should know it. Soup? Socks? No, that was stupid.
…maybe Suki? His mind kept coming back to that, so that had to be it, right?
“Maybe two separate camps?” Toph suggested. “We can take over some of these abandoned buildings. Or I can just make us an earthen camp.”
“Do you think any of these buildings have real beds?” the waterbender asked with something longing and utterly exhausted in her voice.
When was the last time these idiots slept?
“I don’t care,” he decided, choosing a building at random and stomping into it.
As if to specifically spite him, the Blue Spirit lounged on the bed that was in fact there.
He sighed heavily, but called out, “yes on the beds.”
“Dibs on the next house!” Aang cried out immediately, and from the woosh of air Zuko could hear, he’d probably barged right in.
Zuko shook his head. Was this for real? Was he really about to make camp next to the Avatar? Why!?
Oh, I’d say it’s pretty obvious why, the Blue Spirit smirked.
Zuko frowned, confused. “What?”
What’s the Avatar’s name? They asked out of nowhere.
“Uh…” Zuko glanced around, trying to figure out the relevance. “...Aang?”
Mmhm. And what are the others’ names?
“Um,” Zuko flushed. “I mean, there’s Toph. And… Suki?”
“Are you talking to me?” Uncle called, making his way into the house.
Zuko shook his head, flushing.
The Blue Spirit smirked and suddenly he knew he was going to hate whatever was said next.
You have a crush, the Blue Spirit announced.
“What!?” Zuko flushed bright red, sputtering in disbelief. “Do not!”
The Blue Spirit just cackled, that same ghostly laughter that sent shivers down his spine.
“Nephew?” Uncle approached, a look of concern across his face.
Zuko covered his blushing face. “Nevermind,” he muttered.
Uncle’s eyebrow arched, but he let it go. “Are you tired?”
“Uh. Kinda?” He was… but he’d also noticed that he needed a lot less sleep now than he had before.
“Then let us rest,” Uncle smiled. “A man needs his rest. We can speak in the morning.”
After Zuko has a nightmare:
Fortunately, Zuko awoke with the scream trapped in his chest, the memory of his Father’s fist of fire making him shake.
He needed air, so he launched himself out of the chair and stumbled out onto the streets, where the sun was about two hours away from peeking over the horizon. Fortunately, Uncle had taught him to meditate on where the sun wasn’t as much as where it was, so Zuko chose a nice spot and settled down.
Naturally, that was when the Blue Spirit plopped themselves in front of them with – actually, with a strangely serious expression. As much of an expression as one could make with only a mouth.
That’s fucked up, the Blue Spirit opened with.
Zuko blinked. “...what is?”
Your memory.
Zuko’s eye widened. “You can see my memories!?”
Only when you dream. For now.
Well. That wasn’t ominous.
“How long am I stuck with you exactly?”
Oh, you’re never getting rid of me, the Blue Spirit laughed.
Swallowing hard, Zuko decided he couldn’t think too hard about that.
He was wrong, the Blue Spirit said, mouth flattening into a serious line again. You know that, right? Like, I don’t even have human morals and holy fuck, he was super wrong to do that to you.
Zuko frowned. “He was punishing me for disrespect,” he whispered.
Yeah, I’m a spirit of justice, the Blue Spirit said bluntly. There was nothing just about that.
“Yes there was,” Zuko objected. There had to be. Otherwise, how could everyone else have acted like it was okay?
He was always forcing his Father to punish him. It wasn’t that Father wanted to – but Father wanted him to be stronger, to stop being a disappointment.
He deserved everything Father had ever done to him.
That’s bullshit, the Blue Spirit said.
“Well, what do you know of it?” Zuko snapped. “It’s none of your fucking business.”
On the contrary, the Blue Spirit grinned. I am the spirit of vengeful justice. It is entirely my business how my host has been mistreated.
“I haven’t been,” Zuko said, but somehow it felt like a lie.
Yes, the Blue Spirit said simply, you have. But not to worry – you can now take just revenge for each slight!
“There aren’t any slights!”
Really? Not even against the Blue Fire Girl?
Zuko hesitated.
That’s what I thought.
“Ugh,” Zuko groaned. “Just… shut up.” He’d come out here to meditate, not to question everything he’d ever known.
But the thoughts wouldn’t stop circulating around his head when he tried to meditate, so he changed his plans, instead pulling out his swords.
In the prior village, he’d combined his swords and his fire together. And he hadn’t noticed if his fire was white there – more concerned with the whole stone mallet to the chest thing – but it certainly was now.
It was kind of unnerving, so Zuko stuck to playing with his swords only, doing his best to mitigate how much he pulled on his ribs. But he couldn’t afford to be idle while they healed, so he needed to learn how to fight with them.
It wasn’t the first time he’d learned to compensate for an injury limiting his mobility. (In the most memorable previous time, he’d had to figure out how to practice dual dao with one arm in a cast after Father had broken it as punishment for playing with swords when his firebending was a disappointment.)
Again, the Blue Spirit said, that’s fucked up. Like, seriously. No wonder the world has gotten so out of balance if that’s what’s leading the Fire Nation.
Zuko felt like he needed to defend his Father, but he really didn’t know what to say. It was Father. Everything he did was right by definition.
But the Blue Spirit said nothing else and Zuko let it go, shedding his shirt when sweat started to make his skin itch. Then he focused only on moving his swords the way they were supposed to move, filtering out all other input from his senses.
Which is why he jumped about three feet into the air when Aang’s voice asked out of nowhere, “what happened to you!?”
“Fuck!” Zuko swore, pressing a hand to his pounding heart. “Fucking Agni, don’t do that.”
The Avatar just frowned at him, face pinched with what almost looked like concern. “What happened?”
“None of your business,” Zuko snapped, reaching for his shirt and quickly covering his torso – and the very obvious bruises and scars scattered across it.
“Katara’s a healer,” Aang offered.
Katara. Was that the waterbender? He had read that waterbending could sometimes heal. But even if she could do it… “yeah, I don’t think that’s on offer for your enemy,” he said bluntly.
“Everyone deserves healing,” Aang disagreed. “And we won’t know until we ask.”
“Well, I’m not asking,” Zuko snapped.
“But–”
“Fuck off,” Zuko said, turning away from the Avatar. This… was actually the perfect opportunity to attack, with no one else around but them. But right now, Zuko was angry and confused and in pain and he did not have the mental capacity to deal with the Avatar trying to help his enemy. Again.
He spun his swords, moving through the katas Master Piandao had once taught him and paying the Avatar no mind. He kind of figured Aang would go back to his friends – but instead, when he finished the kata, Aang clapped.
Zuko whirled around to stare at him.
“That was really cool!” Aang enthused. “I mean, I knew from before that you were good with swords, but like – wow! You’re really good!”
“...thanks?” Zuko hazarded, uncertain of what to do with the Avatar’s praise.
Cruuuuuuuush, the Blue Spirit’s singsong voice said from way too close, and Zuko jumped again, earning him a surprised look from Aang.
Ugh. He did not have a crush.
You so do, the Blue Spirit responded, clearly amused.
“What do you want?” Zuko demanded, and he honestly didn’t know if he was asking the damned spirit or the Avatar.
Aang shrugged. “We haven’t seen you in a while.”
“...shouldn’t you consider that a good thing?”
“Hmm,” Aang paused to actually think about it. “There are positives to it,” he said eventually, “but there’s something reassuringly familiar about you chasing me.”
“...are you fucking kidding me?”
“Well, I mean, since I woke up from the ice, you and Katara and Sokka have been the most consistent things in my life,” he said, smiling brightly at Zuko.
Zuko… did not know what to do with that.
“Hey, can I ask?” Aang began, “why do you chase me anyway?”
Because the Fire Lord is a sadistic asshole, the Blue Spirit said.
Zuko froze, which apparently worried Aang, because he held his hands out, quick to assure, “you don’t have to tell me! I’m just curious.”
You know, the Blue Spirit observed, if you won’t believe me, maybe you should tell him. I guarantee he will tell you that your Father is seriously fucked up beyond belief.
That made Zuko scowl and Aang winced, leaning back and murmuring an apology.
It was ridiculous that Zuko felt guilty for making him think it was his fault that Zuko was pissed.
He wanted so badly to respond to the Blue Spirit, but there was only so much responding to things no one else could hear that could be excused. So he grit his teeth and bit out, “go away.”
Aang pouted. There was really no other word for the expression. “Aw, c’mon,” he whined. “We can talk about something else!”
“I don’t want to talk to you at all,” Zuko said without thinking and the hurt that crossed Aang’s face made something uncomfortable twist in his chest. He huffed, annoyed with everything about this situation.
“Okay,” Aang said quietly, voice small. Zuko did not feel guilty about that. “But can you at least come see Katara and get healed? It can’t be easy to fight with… all of that.”
It wasn’t, but like hell was Zuko admitting that. “I’m fine.”
“Those bruises looked really deep,” Aang pointed out.
Zuko shrugged. “Nothing broke. Probably.”
“‘Probably’!?”
He sighed, “what do you care?”
Frowning, Aang looked up at him with earnest eyes and said, “no one should be in pain.”
That actually made Zuko laugh, which was horrible for his ribs, but… “I don’t remember what it’s like not to be in pain,” he admitted. “You get used to it.”
Aang’s look of horror just reminded Zuko of how different their lives were. This was an airbender who had grown up in a world without war, in a temple where fun and serenity were considered to be the most important things.
It was such a foreign upbringing that Zuko couldn’t really understand it. His entire life had always been a struggle. He’d never been given anything for free – but the Avatar? They probably got offered free shit all the time.
Shaking his head, Zuko turned away. “Go away, Aang.”
Aang did not go away. In fact, when Zuko headed towards the house Uncle was sleeping in, the Avatar followed him.
“You know my name,” Aang said, surprise in his voice.
Zuko’s face scrunched in confusion, unsure why that mattered. Then he spotted the Blue Spirit’s wide grin parting to say something and he snapped out, “shut up.”
Aang ignored that. “Do you know the others’ names?” he asked curiously, skipping up next to Zuko.
Zuko’s fists clenched and the Blue Spirit laughed.
No, the Blue Spirit said, smugness in their voice. You just know his because you’ve got a crush.
He did not! Desperate to defend himself, he blurted out, “I know Appa and Momo!”
“You… do?” Aang blinked at him in surprise.
Zuko flushed. “Um. Admittedly, not sure which is which.”
That made Aang burst out into giggles. “Appa is my bison,” he said with a grin. “Momo is our lemur.”
And a little later:
“The world has changed so much,” Aang said, voice quiet. “It scares me.”
“I mean,” Zuko heard himself say before he knew he was going to, “even a hundred years ago, your perception of the world was probably pretty different from most people in the other nations.”
“Why?”
“Well, you’re an Air Nomad.”
“...yeah?”
Zuko flushed. “The other nations don’t really have so much emphasis on ‘fun’. Even historically. And I mean, not saying that you were ignorant of the other nations – I’m sure you visited them plenty – but Air Nomads… the other nations aren’t like that.”
“What do you mean?” Aang frowned.
Zuko sucked on his bottom lip, trying to find the right words. “Probably the closest to the Air Nomad lifestyle would be the Water Tribes. They’re communal too – or at least, the South is. I dunno much about the North that’s not eighty years out of date, and as of then, they’d moved away from that a couple thousand years ago. But that makes a pretty significant difference. When you know your needs are provided for… it’s different. But the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom… they’ve never been like that. I mean, I’m sure some places have done it on a local level before, but like, nationally, there’s no guarantee for Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom citizens that they will always have food or shelter or water or–” he spotted the look on Aang’s face and broke off. “Um. Yeah.”
“Really?” Aang whispered. “I mean, I guess I knew that a little bit? Bumi lived on the streets in Omashu a hundred years ago.”
Zuko blinked. “Bumi? As in King Bumi!?”
“Yeah, he became king at some point?” Aang shrugged. “He – he was always good at taking care of himself that I guess I never really realized… how can the Earth King and the Fire Lord not feed all their people?”
“Well, scale is definitely a factor,” Zuko said. “Like, there is a point where a society gets too big to effectively manage. I mean, there were around twenty-nine thousand Air Nomads. The Southern Water Tribes, too, were around twenty thousand at their peak. But the Fire Nation has a hundred-seventy-nine thousand people, and the Earth Kingdom has at least three-point-five million.”
Aang’s eyes were wide. “Whoa.”
“Yeah. So size is a factor. But probably also culture? Like… before the Fire Nation unified into one country, we were a little more like the Southern Water Tribes. Each island had their own clans and good rulers took care of their people. But then we came together as one nation and…” he frowned, horrified by the thought that it all went downhill from there.
“But…” Aang’s face scrunched up in confusion, “I mean, I don’t really get how having a single ruler works, but like… how can they not take care of all their people? Isn’t that the purpose of having a ruler?”
Zuko had no response to that.
He’s got a point, the Blue Spirit pointed out, watching Zuko and Aang like they were the best entertainment they’d seen in years.
…which might actually be the case, but Zuko determinedly did not care.
He scowled at the Blue Spirit, just on principle.
“What are you looking at?” Aang asked curiously, following his gaze – and probably seeing nothing more interesting than the dust-swept ground.
“Nothing,” Zuko muttered, realizing that at some point, he’d stopped walking just to talk to Aang. Frown deepening, he resumed his journey to Uncle.
Aang continued to skip alongside him until they heard Katara’s voice snarling, “where is he!?”
They shared a concerned look and ran.
Katara stood over Uncle, icicles hovering threateningly around him. The only thing that stopped Zuko from attacking was the fact that Uncle appeared entirely calm, sipping a cup of tea.
Where had he even found tea?
“Katara?” Aang called, and she whirled around.
“Aang! Are you okay?” she asked, running up to him and glaring fiercely at Zuko.
“I’m fine,” Aang said easily. “What’s wrong?”
“We woke up and you were gone and then it turned out Zuko was also gone, so…” the Water Tribe boy – Aang had said his name, hadn’t he? What was it? – shrugged, looking bored. There was clear relief on his face, though, and his boomerang was in hand.
Agni, Zuko hated that thing.
Then the boy’s words penetrated his head and he realized that he hadn’t even tried to capture the Avatar. Like, at all.
Was he really so scared of getting his ass kicked that he didn’t even bother to try!?
Yeah, I don’t think that’s the problem, the Blue Spirit said, a smirk on their face. Zuko’s brow knit in confusion and they clarified, do you really want to bring that innocent and gullible Avatar to the man who burned your face off?
Zuko couldn’t help his flinch and it garnered him strange looks, but he tried to ignore it.
What do you think your Father would do to him? the Blue Spirit asked curiously. Which body part do you think he would burn first.
Zuko’s inhale made sharp pain spread through his chest and he winced, pressing a hand to his ribs absently, more focused on the Blue Spirit than the way the Avatar looked at him with obvious concern.
He wanted to tell the Blue Spirit that they were wrong, that Father wouldn’t – wouldn’t–
Would your Father keep him alive, you think? Or let him reincarnate eventually?
“Stop,” Zuko whispered, eye wide as he processed the Blue Spirit’s words.
“Stop what?” Aang asked, standing too close to him and looking curiously between him and the presumably empty patch of street where the Blue Spirit stood. “Are you okay?”
Suddenly unspeakably angry, Zuko grit out, “I’m fine.” Then he turned on his heel and marched away – away from the Avatar, but more importantly, away from the Blue Spirit and the horrible things they said.
They were wrong. They had to be. Father wouldn’t–
But. But he’d never thought Father would burn him so badly either, and what if the Blue Spirit was right!? If – if Father could punish his son so severely… what would he do to the boy who happened to be the Fire Nation’s most wanted enemy?
Zuko had deserved his punishment, but Aang…
No, not Aang. The Avatar. The one being powerful enough to challenge the Fire Lord.
Father would have no mercy. He certainly hadn’t had any for Zuko.
And that was right. That was just.
The problem was, Zuko wasn’t sure he could sentence anyone to worse than what he got. The burn on his face had been deep enough to steal not just his sight on that side, but his hearing, too. It hurt constantly and made his whole head throb.
But he’d deserved it. Right? He’d – he’d spoken out of turn in the Fire Lord’s war room. He’d shown unforgiveable disrespect. That – that was an offense serious enough to warrant such a punishment… wasn’t it?
An hour ago, he wouldn’t have questioned it. But now? Now the Blue Spirit’s complete disapproval of his Father had instilled doubts in him.
Father wouldn’t be happy.
It was fine, though. Zuko wouldn’t succumb. He would always be loyal to his Father, as a good son should be. He wasn’t a good son, Father had made that clear, but he had to try.
So why couldn’t he dismiss the Blue Spirit’s words?
Trying to stop thinking, Zuko dove into a kata that he knew well enough to be comfortable with, but not so well that he didn’t have to pay attention to what he was doing. His fire came out bright white, but he refused to let his mind contemplate that. It didn’t matter what his fire looked like. All that mattered was that he execute the kata correctly.
Next Chapter:
Iroh was used to worrying about Zuko. In general, his nephew excelled in reckless behavior – but now especially, with everything in their life so shaken up, he felt that worry more keenly than ever.
He shouldn’t have let Zuko go alone.
“Uh…” the Earth Kingdom girl coughed, “what the fuck just happened?”
“Got me,” the Water Tribe boy said. “Zuko just started staring into space and freaking out.”
“I don’t think he was staring into space,” the Avatar said, frowning. “It seemed more like he was looking at something.”
“But there’s nothing there.”
Iroh stroked his beard, intrigued. “Nothing we could see. Which does not necessarily mean nothing at all.”
“...are you saying that Zuko’s seeing things?”
“Actually, I was thinking more about the white fire. The spirit fire.”
The Avatar gasped. “You think Zuko saw a spirit? But why couldn’t we?”
“Very few beings can see a spirit’s form without the spirit intending it.” Iroh was actually one of those beings, but he’d seen nothing either. The question was, did that mean there was nothing to see? “Some of it comes down to power – not many spirits are powerful enough to manifest physically unless something serious happens to set them off.”
“Like the fucking Hei Bai spirit,” the Water Tribe boy muttered.
“What,” the Avatar asked hesitantly, “what would it mean, if Zuko sees a spirit?”
“I’m not sure,” Iroh admitted, but now that the thought had occurred, he worried about it. What could the spirits want with his boy?
“He’s injured,” the Avatar’s quiet voice said.
“What? Who?” the waterbender blinked.
“Zuko. He looked pretty badly injured, but he wouldn’t come back to ask you to heal him, so…”
She sniffed, sticking her nose in the air. “I wouldn’t anyway.”
The Avatar frowned sadly. “He guessed that. But – but he could have broken bones, Katara!”
“...he did touch his ribs like he was in pain,” the boomerang kid said reluctantly.
Iroh fretted, but he knew nothing he could say would help this girl decide to heal her enemy, so he stayed quiet.
“So what? He chased us across the world!”
The Avatar chewed on his lip and then admitted, “he also saved me from Zhao once.”
“...what?” Iroh wasn’t the only one to look at him in surprise.
“I – I got captured by Zhao,” the Avatar explained hesitantly. “After that big storm, you remember? Where you guys got super sick? Well, I went looking for medicine and these freaky archers came after me and… Zhao strung me up in this stronghold. And he – I was so scared,” he admitted. “I could barely move. I didn’t know what to do. But then the door opened and–”
The waterbender scoffed. “And Zuko appeared? Yeah right!”
“He did!” the Avatar insisted. “But I didn’t know it was him at first. He wore a mask and used swords instead of fire.”
“...Zuko can use swords?” the Water Tribe boy asked, looking mildly disturbed.
“Yeah! He was practicing with them earlier and wow! He’s really good! I mean, I kinda knew that, because we had to fight a lot of firebenders to escape, but like…” he shrugged.
The waterbender crossed her arms. “Well if he’s so injured, what is he doing practicing?”
The Avatar frowned. “I mentioned that. He just said that nothing was broken. Probably.”
“‘Probably’!?” Iroh couldn’t help but burst out.
“That’s what I said!” The Avatar looked distressed. “He – he said he doesn’t remember what it’s like not to be in pain.”
Iroh winced. It wasn’t that that came as a surprise, exactly, but it was difficult for him to acknowledge the reality that his boy experienced constant pain and there was nothing he could do about it.
He did not like feeling powerless.
“What does that mean?” the Water Tribe boy demanded. His sister’s face was a strange mix of horrified, disbelieving, and sad.
Iroh sighed. “Such deep burns are not without consequence,” he murmured.
“Who–?” the Avatar dared to ask.
Part of Iroh wanted so badly to tell them. Their goal was to face the Fire Lord and stop this war. They should know just how terrible Ozai was.
But… Zuko wouldn’t want his enemies to know. Zuko hadn’t yet come to realize just how unforgivable it was for his Father to do such a horrible thing. It broke Iroh’s heart, but he hoped that one day, Zuko would be ready to acknowledge that his Father was wrong.
Iroh sighed, shaking his head in response to the Avatar’s question.
The Water Tribe boy coughed. “Um. Who are you, anyway? I mean, obviously you’re always following Zuko around, but…”
That made Iroh’s lips twitch. “I am Zuko’s Uncle,” he introduced. “My name is Iroh.”
“His… Uncle?” the boy said with a strange expression on his face. “As in… his Father’s brother?”
“Indeed,” Iroh agreed.
“...younger brother, though, right?”
“Ah,” Iroh clicked his tongue. “No. Ozai is almost twenty years my junior.”
Not me just sharing practically the whole next chapter oops
“Nephew!” Uncle beamed at him, looking up from the Pai Sho board he’d found somewhere. “Would you like some tea?”
Zuko sighed, taking a seat across from Uncle (carefully holding his torso still, because fuck, his ribs hurt). He would not be playing Pai Sho, but he did want to talk to his Uncle.
“What’s on your mind, Nephew?” Uncle asked, inviting him to share.
Zuko wanted to ask. But it was also really hard to get the words to cooperate. In the end, his question was blurted out with a complete lack of tact.
“What do you think Father would do to the Avatar?”
Uncle blinked in surprise, then took a moment to think, looking contemplatively down at the board. “I am not sure I can theorize,” he said.
“He’ll,” Zuko stuttered, “he’ll do worse than he did to me, won’t he?”
“It is highly likely,” Uncle said carefully. Too carefully.
The Blue Spirit’s words ran through his mind again and he had to whisper out the question that scared him more than anything. “Was Father wrong?”
“What?”
“When – when he – I – I deserved it, right?”
“No!” Uncle said with such emphasis that it made Zuko tense. He clearly noticed and calmed himself. “No, Zuko. There is nothing you could do that would deserve such treatment.”
Zuko frowned. How could that be? “But…”
Told you, the Blue Spirit chimed in, and Zuko suddenly noticed them lounging across the moth-eaten couch.
But that didn’t make sense. How could he not deserve it? Why would Father do that if he hadn’t deserved it?
Because he is cruel, the Blue Spirit said simply. But don’t take my word for it. Ask him.
Zuko chewed on his lip, not quite able to look at Uncle. “Why?” he asked quietly. “If – if I didn’t – then why?”
“Zuko,” Uncle began, but Zuko had to finish.
“If – if what he did was wrong, then why didn’t anybody stop him!?”
Uncle set his teacup aside, and when Zuko glanced up, he was looking at Zuko with a serious expression. It made him look sad.
“There is no excuse for cowardice,” Uncle said, and his voice shook in a way it never had before. “But sometimes fear is easier to succumb to than courage.”
Zuko frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Uncle said, “that not only did Ozai wrong you, but you were failed by all of us who should’ve done something and never did. It is unforgivable, Zuko.” Uncle met his gaze with shiny eyes. “Of everyone there that day, Zuko, you are the only one who did not do something wrong.”
“But–”
“You were right, Zuko,” Uncle said clearly, stopping for a moment to clear his throat, voice thick with emotion. “You were right to speak up for the 41st. You absolutely did not deserve what happened – no one ever could.”
“But how can that be!?” Zuko burst out. “If – if it was so wrong, then how come no one has ever said that before? How come you’ve never said that before!?”
Uncle flinched. “You love your Father,” he said after a moment. “When you love someone, it is difficult to see the ways they are wrong. When others criticize those we love, we rarely believe them. But that does not mean it is not true.” He sniffled and cleared his throat. “I never wanted you to push me away.”
Zuko’s face was scrunched in distress. “But – but even the Earth Kingdom merchants and the gossips in every port and the soldiers everywhere – everyone acted like Father was right. How can that not be the case?”
“Your Father has a great deal of power over the world,” Uncle said slowly. “Not because of his crown, but because of his cruelty. People the world over fear him. Fear makes us cowards, and sometimes it is easier to pretend it’s not there than to admit that we failed. Because if we acknowledge that Ozai is wrong and we do nothing… we are not less guilty than he is.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense!”
“No,” Uncle agreed, voice so very sad. “It doesn’t. The world has become terribly broken, Zuko, and too few remember what it is to act with compassion and love. Our family has brought a century of war on this world and people have become twisted with malice and desperation. That does not make it right. What Ozai did was wrong. And there is no possible way anyone could deserve that.”
Zuko shook his head, not able to accept that. It was ridiculous. If Uncle was right, then the whole world was wrong. That couldn’t be possible.
It made much more sense to think that the problem was Zuko. Maybe… maybe other people wouldn’t deserve it. But Zuko did. Zuko had to have, because otherwise, every single person he’d ever met had been wrong. All those people who sneered at him and laughed at him and made jokes about it and–
It was too many people. Surely they couldn’t all be in the wrong.
No, it had to be that Zuko was the one wrong. It had to be.
Uncle reached out slowly to touch his arm and Zuko couldn’t help his flinch, head spinning with confusion.
It couldn’t be. Uncle had to be incorrect, that was the only thing that made sense.
But… but Uncle looked at him with such guilt and pain and heartbreak and Zuko didn’t know what to do with that and–
“I need air,” he grunted out, scrambling to his feet and bolting.
Unfortunately, while Uncle could be outrun, the Blue Spirit could not be.
He’s right, they said, strolling alongside Zuko.
“Fuck off,” Zuko grit out. “Just – just go away!”
Fine, the Blue Spirit agreed. But he’s still right.
A moment later, they popped out of existence, and Zuko let out a shaky breath, suddenly feeling a hot burning behind his right eye.
They were wrong. They had to be.
Right?
Now Aang’s POV
Aang was floating on cloud nine. He could earthbend! After a horribly long day of failure after failure after failure, he could do it! He could move rock!
Katara left to start dinner and Sokka and Toph had eagerly followed her, but Aang had too much energy to stay in place, so he wandered through the streets, bending pebbles around just because he could.
So when he spotted Zuko stomping down an intersecting street, he raced after the Prince excitedly.
“Hey Zuko, guess what?” He used his airbending to speed ahead and come around to face Zuko, a bright grin on his face. Then he spotted Zuko’s expression and his smile fell. “Are you okay?”
Zuko turned away instantly, sniffling and wiping his right eye. Aang… was pretty sure he’d seen tears on Zuko’s cheek and he didn’t know what to do with that. It had… never really occurred to him that Zuko could cry.
“What happened?” he asked softly.
“Nothing. Go away.” Zuko’s voice lacked any force and he wouldn’t look at Aang, even when Aang circled around him again.
“Is there anything I can do?” Aang asked quietly.
“Yeah, fuck off,” Zuko grunted, twisting on his heel to stomp away from Aang.
Aang chewed on his lip. He – he didn’t want to not respect Zuko’s wishes, but something was very clearly wrong and he couldn’t just leave Zuko to be upset alone.
“I can distract you, if you want?” he offered. If Zuko wouldn’t talk to him, then he could at least help Zuko take his mind off whatever had happened… right?
“Why!?” Zuko demanded, rounding on him. “What do you care!?”
Aang frowned. “Why… wouldn’t I care?”
Zuko sputtered. “Because we’re enemies, maybe!?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want you to be unhappy,” Aang pointed out. “I don’t want anyone to be unhappy. So if I can do something about it when someone is…” he shrugged.
Zuko stared in disbelief. The eyelashes of his right eye – the only eye that had eyelashes – were clumped with tears and it was pretty obvious that Zuko had definitely been crying.
Aang hated when people cried. He wanted to give Zuko a hug, but that might be pushing things a little too far. Still, he could at least do something to offer comfort.
“If you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s okay,” he said, voice as gentle as he could make it. “You don’t have to tell me. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take your mind off it.”
“...how?”
“Um,” Aang considered his options. “Oh! Would you like to fly on Appa?”
Zuko’s face made it clear he thought Aang was crazy.
“Flight is amazing!” Aang insisted. “C’mon, I’ve taken a lot of first-time flyers out. It’ll be fun!”
“Fun,” Zuko repeated blankly. “You… I don’t know why I’m surprised,” he huffed.
Aang attempted a smile. “As you know, Air Nomads are big on fun,” he said easily. “Do you wanna go flying?”
There was definite temptation on Zuko’s face, but the frown stayed dominant. “You realize I could just knock you out and fly to the Fire Nation, right?”
“Well, I guess it’s possible,” Aang acknowledged. “But I think Appa would have something to say about that. He can be positively unmoveable when he’s feeling stubborn, you know?”
Zuko blinked slowly, processing that. Then he actually snorted.
“Sky bison were considered to be one of the most willful pack animals in the world,” Zuko muttered.
“Yeah!” Aang nodded, though he was definitely surprised Zuko knew that. But it didn’t really matter. “So… wanna go flying?”
“...fuck it, why not?” Zuko said after a moment.
“Great! C’mon!” Aang positively beamed, grabbing Zuko’s hand and dragging him towards Appa.
Zuko asks the burning question
When Zuko’s eyes opened again, there was a considering look on his face. “Can I ask you something?”
Surprised, Aang nodded. “Sure!”
“In – in the Air Temples,” he began, voice hoarse, “how were you punished if you disrespected the elders?”
Aang tilted his head. “Disrespect how?”
“What do you mean ‘how’?” Zuko frowned. “Disrespect is disrespect.”
“Well, I guess, but like… it kinda depends on how much of a sense of humor you have, you know? Like – like Master Gyatso and I would prank the other elders all the time, and Monk Tashi would get super mad, but Monk Pasang usually found it funny. He’d even give us feedback on how the pies tasted!”
“...pies?”
“Oh yeah, see, Master Gyatso is a great baker. And pies are perfect for throwing at people’s heads.”
Zuko stared at him. “You… threw pies at your elders?” There was clear horror in Zuko’s voice. “What did they do to you? How were you punished?”
“Oh, usually it was just more chores and stuff,” Aang shrugged. “I’m very good at cleaning bison stables.”
Zuko’s stare almost turned gaping.
“What?”
“You,” Zuko’s voice was strangled, “you attacked and humiliated your elders and all you got was more chores!?”
“Uh… yeah?” Aang frowned. “Why? What do you think should’ve happened?”
Zuko clutched at his hair, face distraught. “It’s – that can’t – it’s not – what!?”
Aang wasn’t sure what was troubling Zuko so much, but he reached out with clearly telegraphed movements to touch Zuko’s arm. “What happened?” he asked quietly.
Zuko’s muscles flinched under his fingers, but Zuko didn’t actually pull away. Instead, he sat hunched over, tugging at his own hair.
“Zuko?” Aang shifted closer, hoping to offer what comfort he could. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Zuko shook his head, very obviously focusing on keeping his breathing steady. Even so, each exhale shuddered, and Aang was pretty sure that wasn’t just because of the bruising he’d seen earlier.
“Can I hug you?”
That made Zuko jerk back, gaping at him. “What!?”
“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” Aang said very seriously, “but you seem like you could use a hug. So… can I?”
For some reason, his question seemed to cause Zuko great consternation, but after a long moment, Zuko said, “I… guess?”
“Okay,” Aang smiled. “Just tell me when you want me to let go.” With that said, he shifted so that he could hug Zuko properly, pulling Zuko into him and pressing their chests together.
Zuko was tense in his arms and he kept his touch gentle, not wanting to aggravate the unknown injuries Zuko definitely had.
It was kind of awkward, just sitting in silence, hugging someone who was stiff as a board, but Aang ignored that, focusing on offering whatever comfort he could.
He didn’t know what was wrong or why Zuko was upset, but he did know that he liked Zuko and he didn’t like Zuko being unhappy.
So he held Zuko close and gradually, Zuko’s muscles unwound. At some point, Zuko even tilted his face into Aang’s shoulder, hands coming up to clutch at the back of Aang’s shirt. Aang smiled slightly, leaning his weight into Zuko and slowly rubbing Zuko’s back.
They stayed like that for a long time, just circling in the air above the village their families were in and hugging tightly.
And finally, a fun little distraction
Aside from Uncle, it had been a very long time since anyone had hugged Zuko. And even Uncle didn’t do it often.
It was… kind of nice?
Embarrassing beyond belief that he needed it, but he could admit that after waaaaaaay too long spent hugging Aang, he… did actually feel a little bit better. It hadn’t fixed anything, but he felt sort of like it had grounded him. There was still a typhoon of thought and emotion in his head, but he’d managed to push it down enough that he felt like he could actually breathe.
Unfortunately, that meant that he then had to acknowledge the part where he’d basically just broken down in his enemy’s arms.
He flushed, swallowing uncomfortably and drawing away with a mumbled apology.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Aang said softly. “Are you okay?”
Zuko opened his mouth to respond and then realized that he didn’t have an answer. He… wasn’t entirely sure he knew what it meant to be okay.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Aang’s smile was compassionate in a way that made Zuko feel exposed like a raw wound.
“No!” he lashed out with a scowl.
“Okay,” Aang said easily. “If you decide you do wanna talk about it, you’re welcome to come to me any time. In the meantime, do you wanna do a barrel roll?”
Zuko’s face was probably a fascinating thing to study as different emotions flashed through his mind.
But honestly, that did sound pretty cool.
“Yeah,” he decided, setting aside all the things he didn’t know how to feel about.
“Great!” Aang grinned. “Hang on to my arm, just in case. Appa knows what he’s doing, but it’s still best to be careful with people who can’t fly.”
The barrel roll was actually completely amazing and Zuko actually felt a smile pulling at his lips. It was an unfamiliar feeling.
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