Work Text:
Boy I know
That we could be more
Than just friends
But you’re scared
PERFECT, Tyler the Creator ft. Kali Uchis
i
The sound of sprinklers slowly brings Katara into consciousness. The water, cold and surprising, jolts her awake. Her mouth tastes like sand and cheap vodka, and her hair is a wet, matted rat’s nest piled atop her head. She’s blinded by the crisp morning sunlight and attempts to stand up only to have her open palm press down onto something, or rather, someone, and they groan awake.
She jumps at the sound, not fully awake enough to understand what is going on, aggressively patting the soft yet firm surface beneath her.
“Get. Off,” a muffled voice demands, and Katara knows that haughty, elitist tone anywhere. She doesn’t shrink away, but she deliberately put space between them, pulling her knees to her and letting her eyes fall shut.
The wet grass is soaking her through her shorts, and there’s an asshole at her elbow. She’s positive that there are worse ways to wake up, but it’s still very unpleasant. “Where’s Sokka?” she yawns looking at the manicured lawn strewn with cups and a few fellow teens who had too much to drink. “He was supposed to be our ride…” she trails off, eyes looking for the familiar old Jeep her dad gave him when he got a new one.
Zuko grunts, getting to his feet and brushing off his jeans. He reaches a hand out, pulling her up on her feet. She sways a little, but his hand is a steady, warm crutch. She’s grateful that she’s here with Zuko, a known morning person, rather than her brother, who would rather sleep well through the afternoon if they let him.
“Thanks,” she smiles. Her eyes are still scanning for Sokka. “So, um, did you have fun last night?” She tucks a thick curl behind her ear, and Zuko’s eyes follow the movement.
He hums in response, and it looks like his center of gravity is being pulled towards her. “So, Katara, about last night—” he rubs at the back of his neck, awkward and flushing. “I just want—”
“I can barely even remember last night,” she says, sure, and Zuko’s hand falls to his side. She looks up at him through long lashes. “I’m so sorry you got stuck taking care of me. Normally it’s me taking care of everyone else.” A couple of kids are starting to wake up, so they make their way out of the fenced area to the front of the house.
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He clears his throat, “No, no, about last night—"
A car horn blares somewhere behind her. Katara turns around at the intrusive sound. A pale arm stretches out of the car, waving. “Get in! We got coffee and McGriddles!” Suki shouts from the passenger seat. Her brother is in the driver’s seat, looking like death warmed over.
“Our chariot awaits,” Katara jokes, arm extended towards the Jeep. She smiles at him, apologetic, and he gives her a half smile in return.
It doesn’t reach his eyes.
ii
Katara bounds down the stairs, hair up in a messy bun, in an oversized sweater sans pants when she sees a silhouette that is definitely not Sokka. If someone were to ask how she handled that realization, she did not squeal and slip down the last three steps. She’s much too graceful, honestly.
The ruckus of her grace caught his attention.
Zuko was sitting on their well-worn couch, no Sokka to be seen. He seems embarrassed at catching her in her pajamas, and then she remembers how much leg is showing.
Her cheeks flame red. “Ugh! Look away, pervert!” She frantically tugs at the bottom of her sweatshirt. “Why are you even here this early? Where’s Sokka?” Zuko isn’t looking at her, but the back of his neck is red.
“My Uncle gave me the day, off, I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” he murmurs. “Sokka’s just taking the trash out.” He finally looks at her again, and his gaze is so earnest that she immediately regrets reacted how she did. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
Katara shrugs, suddenly shy. “No, um, it’s okay, you know where everything is. Have fun?” Zuko just raised an eyebrow before looking at the television, which she didn’t even notice was on. Okay, conversation over, then.
In the second it takes for her to walk past him, she sees not for the first time that Zuko is pretty cute when his face isn’t all scrunched up. She catches herself biting her lip and is immediately horrified with herself. It’s Zuko for crying out loud!
She all but sprints to the cupboard for a cup, filling it up and taking big gulps. Her face feels hot, and Zuko’s never made her feel like this before.
The front door slams shut, and Sokka swaggers into the kitchen, breezy, until he looks at his sister and starts sputtering. “Katara! Wha—What are you wearing? We have a guest, like come on! Put some pants on!” He dramatically shields his eyes and stumbles towards the living room. Katara can hear him jostling Zuko, and Zuko’s complaints in response.
Flushed and eager for a hasty escape, she doesn’t notice Zuko’s stare lingering on her back or see Sokka smacking him in the back of the head, earning a glare.
iii
“You should wear the grey top, it’ll bring out your eyes more,” Suki says offhandedly, her eyes briefly leaving her phone to comment on Katara’s outfit. They were bowling with some of the kids from her school. It was supposed to be just her, Sokka, and Suki, but then Sokka went and invited Zuko (even though she protested) and word just got out.
Katara was only slightly salty. Zuko has been weird towards her since she woke up next to him on some jock’s lawn. He’s been extremely moody, which means a lot coming from him.
She groans, flopping onto her bed. “Ugh, what’s the point in dressing up? It’s just going to be Sokka and his stupid soccer friends.”
Suki gives her an unamused look. “And Zuko. You forgot to say Zuko.”
Katara just rolls her eyes. “As if I care what that jerk thinks. He’s been hot and cold like all school year. I’m not going to let him play me like Fuckboy Jet.” She sits up, eyeing the grey top. “Although, I would look great wearing that.”
She quickly pulls it on over her bralette as Suki sighs. “First of all, no one really likes Fuckboy Jet. We all call him Fuckboy Jet.” She gives Katara a knowing look. “And you’ve known Zuko since middle school, you know he’s not like that.” She finally puts her phone face down, mischief in her. “Besides, I saw you guys at Chan’s party.”
“Oh my goodness, what happened at that party?” Katara groans. “I was so trashed, I don’t even remember most of it.” At Suki’s silence, she continues, “What do you know that I don’t?”
“Oh, no, no, no,” Suki laughs, standing and walking towards the door, phone in hand. “You need to talk to Zuko, I’m staying out of it. You two need to talk.” She raises one eyebrow, her weight shifting to one leg. “You’re a big girl, you can handle it.”
Katara flips her the bird. Suki laughs again and goes to find Sokka. Bowling should be fun.
iv
She’s barely been asleep for two hours when her phone buzzes underneath her pillow. Exhaling, she rolls onto her back, bringing the phone up close to her face. She nearly rolls her eyes when she sees Zuko’s name pop up on the screen and briefly debates ignoring it in favor of sleep, but something inside of her wants to see what he wants. She almost hopes that he’s getting his head out of his ass, but another part of her wants him to stuff it.
You up?
Katara cannot believe what a laughable, basic booty call text it was. She scoffs, as if. Those two words barely even deserve a response, but she’s feeling a little mean and very curious. He doesn’t deserve her kindness, not really, and she’s feeling petty enough to send a petty response.
No I’m sleeping
Did you need something?
????
Her cheeks burn hot. Did he mean to send that to bed? Like what in the actual hell is wrong with this boy? He wakes her up with a maybe sexy text in the middle of the night and he ignores her? There was an understanding between them. She thought they were okay now…Either way, she needs to be firm.
Omfg dude I’m going to bed
Katara shakily exhales, setting her phone on her bedside table and rolling over onto her side. She tucks her hands underneath her head, but her eyes never leave her phone. She sighs again, ready to attempt to go to back into her land of slumber that is most definitely not filled with stupid, complicated boys, when her phone dimly lights up.
If anyone were to ask her, she did not snatch at her phone like some feral child looking for a Snickers. She's cool, completely calm and zen and knows her place in the universe (Zuko might make her a little crazy).
Sorry
…?
That’s it???
Yeah okay, night
Meet me at the park
Please
She stares at her phone screen, chewing on her bottom lip. On one hand, why would he text her at 2:30 in the morning when he made it clear that he just wasn’t all that into her. Aside from their tense, hushed conversation at the bowling alley that night, just a few hours ago, there’s been almost complete radio silence on his end.
She doesn’t respond, just sits there chewing on her thumbnail. Zuko isn’t a bad guy, he’s just…complicated. Katara isn’t sure how well she’ll do with complicated, but she’s had worse crushes before, and Zuko is honestly all right, in her eyes.
He needs her, and he’s worth it.
Meet you in 20
+
Dressed comfortably in a pair of leggings and a light hoodie, Katara walks underneath the streetlight closest to the park. Considering it’s a quarter past too fucking early in the morning, the fact that she cannot see Zuko pisses her off a little.
She’s missing precious sleep for this little shit, and school starts back up in the morning. He’s a guy of few words, this must be for something.
His ears and neck are flaming a brilliant red. “What, uh, do…Do you remember that party we went to? With Sokka and Suki last weekend?” He’s avoiding her gaze, and Katara interprets it as shame.
Huffing, she says, “Yeah, the party where we all drank so much that we woke up the next morning in their front lawn.” She can’t really forget the party, she was immortalized in a few snapchat stories guzzling red cup after red cup. She wanted to be fun for once, throw caution to the wind. She looks him in the eye, holding his gaze. “What about it?” She shifts her weight to one leg and crosses her eye.
Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose. “So, you don’t remember why we were together on the lawn in the first?” He sounds frustrated, Katara is confused. “How can you not remember?”
Katara sucks in a breath, eyes flitting to the stars. She was drinking, a lot, and she never wants to touch the stuff again. She remembers Sokka and Suki being nauseating, Zuko sulking around in their periphery. She wanted to loosen up, and Zuko is the walking poster child for a person who needs to loosen up. She remembers pulling him away to have fun with her. She’d only wanted to see him smile.
Her silence is deafening, and Zuko isn’t known for his patience. “Is that it?” he whispers, almost like her lack of memory pains him. Her eyes drift to him again, and she drinks in his appearance. His short hair was sticking up in every direction, like he’s spent most of his night running his hands through it. His jaw is working, tense, and Katara is suddenly struck by how much she still wants him, this strange, complicated boy.
His eyes are trained on her, gaze unflinching. Katara’s tongue darts out to wet her lips. It’s too much, too intense, but she can’t look away. His hand reaches for her, slowly, as if he was giving her a chance to move away if she didn’t want him to touch her.
Katara desperately want him to kiss her. She feels like a livewire has been strung through her body. Zuko gently pulls her to him, his free hand coming up to rest on your neck. He leans his head towards hers, but he misses her lips, content to inhale the scent of her hair. Her eyes flutter shut, and his breath comes out shaky.
“How can you forget the happiest night of my life?” he says, and it’s the pained way he says it that makes her tighten her grip on his hand.
They stand there, breathing each other in, and the tension is palpable. Zuko heaves a sigh and presses his lips to hers. It’s much too brief for her to enjoy, and her lips barely pucker before he moves away. He stares at her again, cheeks flushed. “At the party, you kissed me. I’m, uh, returning the favor,” he rasps, and his lips quirk up in a small smile.
She still doesn’t remember the party, but clearly Drunk Katara was braver than Sober Katara. The entire week suddenly makes sense, the stolen looks, the fact that he couldn’t stop blushing if she was around.
Zuko likes her, and she spent an entire week stressing that he didn’t want her that way.
“You suck at communicating,” is the first thing that comes out of her mouth, and she blanches, worried that she ruined the mood.
He just shrugs miles and pulls her close. “We figured it out.” Katara beams and fastens her mouth to his. She’s greedy for his lips, and Zuko seems just as eager for this as she is.
It was the best Spring Break she’s ever had.