Work Text:
It is on nights like this, when the moon is full and round and bright, that Katara most profoundly experiences the joy of Aang beside her.
When they were children their proximity was practical, innocent. The scant distance between them closed as the decades wore on. Where he once slept within eyeshot, he now rested wrapped around her, his long limbs a tangle around hers. Katara doesn’t mind the warmth of his skin, the steady pressure of his hard and lean body, the way his breath stirs the thick coils of her hair. When Aang was truly at ease it was as though he floated. When she was beside him, she floated right along with him.
Her hand dances down the long column of his spine, past his fading scar, tracing the patterns and paths that are mapped out beneath his skin. She can feel the life within him, strong and steady, so very much like the man she loves. Katara’s fingers follow his tattoos, faint in the light of the moon. Over the hills and valleys she reorients herself, mapping the differences.
He wakes up in measures, his breath catching when she rolls into his touch, his eyes fluttering open when she leans her forehead against his.
“Feels good,” he exhales contently, snuggling closer still.
Katara says nothing, only smiles. She continues her work, smoothing a hand over his lightly stubbled head, following the angles of his cheeks down to his jaw. She tugs at his beard, a recent addition. He chuckles, grey eyes still closed.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
She leans forward, pressing her lips to his chin. Aang’s hands tighten around her hips, drawing her closer still. One calloused thumb finds the gap in her sleeping robe and seizes the opportunity to reciprocate her affections. He rubs spirals into the sensitive area at her waist. She recognizes them as air bending patterns. She is nearly as familiar with them as he is.
His lips find hers. No matter how often they come together, there is something novel in it, something new to be gleaned from the touch of his mouth. Some nights he is playful, nipping and teasing, laughing against her pebbling skin. Other nights he is desperate and almost rough, needing her to help him forget. On nights like this, he is purposeful.
She thinks perhaps she likes these nights best.
“Sweetheart,” he has many nicknames for her. This one comes out on a gasp. His hand slips beneath her, hefting her against him.
He’s long since outgrown her, towering a head over her. Here in this haven they have created they are on an equal playing field. Katara braces herself on his shoulders. Strength fills her. In one swift move, she rolls. The Avatar, savior of the world, is beneath her. He stares up at her with so much awe that it steals her breath.
She shrugs the silk from her shoulders, loosening her hair. Aang reaches up for it, tangling in a hand before tracing the curve of her neck down to where her necklace sits. It has been two years since he gifted her with the handmade jewelry and his promise along with it. Katara kisses his palm, leaning forward, encouraging his touch.
She shivers as his hands skirt down, her heart hammering. She spent the better part of a month wondering, but now she is sure. She hopes that Aang can feel it as acutely as she can.
His motion stops when he reaches her stomach. His eyes widen and he sits up, swallowing thickly.
“Katara,” he begins. She can hear his heart racing, pounding a rhythm to match her own.
“Can you feel it?” she asks quietly, speaking at last.
Aang brings his chest to hers, holding her tightly. All at once he is laughing, joy so pure that it seems to flow right out of him and into her, tethering them.
“A baby,” he gasps, kissing her shoulder.
“A baby,” she echoes, hugging him.
A new kind of love blossoms. It is anchored between them, a living thing, the product of their union.
“We have to pick a name,” Aang says delightedly.
Katara laughs, catching his face between her hands.
“Soon,” she promises, pushing him back slowly.
He obeys, reclining into the cushions and blankets, tattoos glowing. In the moonlight, the two of them are nearly indistinguishable from one another, two souls joined together.
Katara falls onto the bed with her husband, delirious with joy.