Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The last time Teo sees Aang is when he was fifteen and Aang fourteen. 

The last time Teo sees Aang properly is when he comes to him, The Northern Air Temple, and flopped on his bed (with Teo’s permission of course. Manners and etiquette, Monk Gyatso taught and told him that) crying of heartache, fresh out of a breakup. 

And Teo thinks to himself, scoffs in his head silently to himself, that it’s ridiculous that Aang even while crying of wounded love still thinks about other people and everything affecting them like he did Teo. Asking before laying on his bed. 

Aang is a ridiculous person. But he’s the Avatar, so, that can explain it too. 

(Avatar’s are always ridiculous; with their stunts and skills and most of the time the world resting on them-

Yes, they are ridiculous. 

And yes, Teo can think that. Besides, if he told Aang, he would laugh in that way of his. Beaming and bright and bubbly.) 

The first thing that pops in Teo’s mind that he can say to Aang because he hasn’t spoken at all except that time to tell Aang “yes Aang. You can flop on my bed. I don’t mind.” (Always cares for everyone else except himself. But that’s Aang for you. Avatar Aang.) And that was it because Teo’s just watching him cry and he doesn't even know the reason why or how he knows which room is Teo’s. 

(Aang asked The Mechanic as he passed by him and welcomed him. And then he ran and burst into tears when he couldn't contain it anymore.) 

Teo just watches on, helpless and a little desperate and confused but he’ll wait until Aang tells him. Everything on his own time and accord. After all, the Avatar needs his breaks whenever he has the mercy to and is presented by it. Teo’s not going to rush him. 

He waits. 

Until Aang is ready. Until Aang wants to tell him. Until Aang wants to talk and gets those feelings out. 

(After all, he owes him.) 

Aang does wipe his tears after a while, all his emotions festered out. He does clear his throat and gives Teo a meek smile after he opens his eyes and looks at him. (He’s smiling. He’s always smiling, Teo thinks fondly. Anything to make others happy.) 

And then Aang laughs. Small, quiet, embarrassed, there. Sure. 

Aang laughs. Bright and beaming but soft. 

“Sorry about that,” he laughs, nervously, not meeting Teo’s eyes. “Don’t know what came over me.” 

“It’s alright Aang,” Teo says, reassures, because he doesn’t mind. (He’ll never mind.) “Want to tell me what happened? If you want to of course. I can’t tell you what to do.” He smiles, and closes his eyes again (but he’s facing Aang. His smile is facing Aang.) 

Aang remains quiet. Teo thinks he’s never going to speak about it or tell him and Teo leaves it as that, when he does. When he does speak up and direct his head, tilts it, towards Teo so he could hear better because he’s going to whisper. It’s a fresh wound. (Even though it’s been something like a week or a few days. Aang doesn't know. He can’t tell the difference between time anymore.)

It comes as a surprise to Aang when it doesn't come out as a whisper and instead clear. “Katara broke up with me,” his voice is scratchy though, “I was talking to her about the future. Our future. What it lays out for us but then she suddenly lets go of me and says no and then we break up.” His voice breaks into a sob but he regains himself. 

Teo lets him talk. He only listens. 

“And then- I don’t know. I run away. I’ve never been good at dealing with my feelings,” he whispers, letting out a rueful laugh. “By the time I come back, she’s run away too. And this time, I run away, actually. Exactly like how I was raised and like my people are - were - born to do. Nomads, forever.” He shrugs. “I don’t know what I did. Besides, Katara and I always planned a vision for our future and everything that comes with it. Marriage, children and we-” he gets a bit desperate, panicky, for someone, Teo, to listen, to see he’s not at fault. “We talked about it. So many times. I don’t know what went wrong this time, what happened this time that made her-” 

He’s silent. Teo waits. And when it comes, it comes out as a whisper full of sorrow and longing and love- broken love. “I don’t know what I did wrong,” he admits, “We were so happy. I thought we were anyway. And we were in love!” he cries. “We were so happy in love and she was my forever girl but I guess she isn’t anymore,” his voice dies down in hurt acceptance. 

Aang’s in tears. Teo sees it’s his chance to speak now, everything Aang wanted to say let out, he can comfort Aang. 

(He doesn’t think of how seeing Aang like this hurts. He doesn’t think of how hearing Aang say that Katara was his forever girl hurts. He doesn’t think think think. He just knows, in resignation.

Besides, Aang came to him and is looking for comfort and that is his job. 

It may be the last time he sees Aang before he goes for university in Ba Sing Se.) 

(Whatever Teo does. He does not tell Aang that he is only fourteen and probably shouldn't be thinking of this stuff already. He does not tell Aang that his would-be future with Katara is farfetched. He does not tell Aang that this was going to happen sooner or later. He does not tell Aang that he aimed too high for the stars. He does not tell Aang that he is too young. He does not tell Aang anything. 

He instead tells him this:)

“Well, that’s too bad.” Aang looks crushed and Teo goes on to say, “Hold on, I’m not done yet. And you’re gonna hate me for this but Katara’s an idiot.”

Aang goes to defend her, his mouth open and ready to say something but he just slumps instead. Closes his mouth and sits dejected. 

“Katara is missing out if she can’t see what’s in front of her. She’s missing out because she had the chance but didn’t y’know,” he motions vaguely. “You’re beautiful Aang.” Teo reaches out to take Aang’s hands in his and clasps them, Aang watching on with wide eyes and just a barely there smile. “Anybody would be lucky to have you or be friends with you. Anybody would. In fact, everyone would—”

“Not everyone. Those Ozai supporters hate me and so do others,” he mutters, head downcast and eyes sad. 

“Those Ozai supporters and others will always hate you. But, you know what? They’re missing out too. They don’t know you like we do. Like I do. Like most people do. They don’t matter and don’t count. We do. The people who can appreciate you do.” Teo smiles. “Everybody would Aang,” whispers and squeezes his hands before he lets go. 

Finally, Aang lifts his head and smiles. Free, off-kilter at the edges, with baggage but it isn't as heavy as it was before. He doesn’t appear to be crying anymore. 

“If Toph were here she’d make a blind joke,” he says, clear and without distress. Teo laughs.

She would. Even though Teo didn't talk to her much when they were staying at the Temple together but he knows she would. 

“Do you mind if I stay here for a few days?” Aang asks, small and hesitant, as if Teo is going to say no to him. Avatar’s and their ridiculousness. Especially Aang. “So I can,” shrugs, “heal a bit and all that.”

“Of course Aang.” Teo says, breathy, to hide his laughter at his question. “You don’t need to ask. You’re an Air Nomad, this is your place just like how it is ours.”

“Thanks Teo,” Aang gives him a hushed burning smile. 

“Yeah, anytime Aang.” 

Teo looks away.

———

Aang is fourteen —nearly fifteen— when he talks about their future to Katara just like they’ve done already in the past a few times. It’s nothing new. That’s why it comes as a surprise when she exits his arms and refuses. 

They are together, in love and vibrant. Happy. Whole. 

(It was never meant to last. All the good things in Aang’s life aren’t.)

He shutters. He leaves for the sky. It’s his home. Just like Katara is. Katara was. But she isn't anymore. 

He flies. He runs. He cries. He comes back.

She’s not there anymore.

(Nothing in Aang’s life is, ever if not, permanent.)

He wants to go. He’s aching. But he doesn’t. He gives her space.

If anything Aang knows about, it’s freedom. 

It’s in his veins, in the very blood that runs in his veins, to flutter from one place to the other, to fly high and higher. But—

But she is the person he comes back home to, every time. Came back home to. She was his anchor, she was his tether, she was his person, she was his home. 

(Aang doesn't have a home anymore. He tries not to think about it.) 

He has nothing to tie him to the ground, to the earth, to gravity. He just roams. 

He has no home. 

He doesn’t know what he did or what went wrong or what made her unhappy. He doesn't know. 

And that’s everything.

He should've let go of his attachment ages ago. It doesn't do him any favours. Hasn’t done him any favours. He should've listened to Guru Pathik. It would have spared him hurt. 

He is a chamber. Empty. Alone and lost. Where there was once a space, a hole, in the shape of home, all that lies there now is emptiness. Dark. Chasm. Gaping wound.

(He thinks of the poem when he makes that distinction. He thinks of his favourite poem by a nun who was dead when he is a boy and remains dead when he’s still a boy.

An Avatar’s life is never easy. Especially for Avatar Aang.) 

Aang loves her but it feels like she doesn’t love him. 

And it doesn't matter but he would deal with this hurt, with this pain, every single lifetime just to know and love Katara and be friends with her. 

He wants to believe everything is okay. It isn't. The calm is always fleeting. 

(But it would be better if Aang and Katara never met. If Aang didn't come out of the iceberg. If Aang wasn’t the Avatar. 

Things would be better. Things would be simpler. 

(He would've been wiped out with the rest of the Air Nomads.)

He doesn’t want to think about it.)

I thought you love me? Do you not?

Wasn’t I good enough? Wasn’t I enough?

You make me so happy. Did I not?

Because everything is past tense now. 

He had Katara. He was home. But then he didn’t. But then he isn’t.

He tries to build a home in the air. He drifts. He can’t. He goes to Teo. 

And the wind takes him there. At least, this time he has a purpose and destination and meaning. 

He’s so empty and alone. 

(He wants Monk Gyatso. He misses him. His people aren't here anymore though.) 

An Avatar’s life is never easy. 

———

Aang plays with the kids. Tries to distract himself. Tries not to think about it, about anything at all.

He is the wind. Going with whatever it does. Its flow. He is an Air Nomad. The last of them all. 

He flows with the wind. He plays with the kids. 

And the kids love him and he can say that distracts him from his pain, suffering, longing. By the time he leaves the kids will remember him until the next time he comes. 

(The Northern Air Temple steadily becomes a home. Not home. But a home. 

Somewhere he can land and come back down. 

It helps that Teo is here too.)

He doesn’t think about how he squeezed Teo’s hand before they had to separate that day in the Air Temple. He doesn’t think about how nice it felt or steady or how his hand fit before he went to fight Ozai. He doesn’t think at all. 

It’s always been a kind of tradition. 

“Teo, thank you,” he smiles, his heart’s a bit easier but not all of it.

(They’re in a garden. Appa behind Aang, Momo on his shoulder. This is their place. And Aang has already said his goodbyes to the kids.)

Teo’s lips curl into a grin. “You're welcome Avatar,” and mock bows before Aang shoves him gently (everything is gentle with him. Never to harm, never deliberate, guess that’s what makes Aang stand out as an Avatar. The Avatar).

(When he goes down in history, Teo knows that Aang would be known as the gentlest and kindest Avatar.)

“No but seriously, you don't need to thank me. This is your home too,” he continues on and Aang looks at him considering, softly and Teo tries to ignore the heat that blooms on his skin.

Aang finally breaks the silence between them that was growing, that was comfortable and Teo was finding peace in. “Yeah. Guess it is my home.”

Aang gives him another soft look before he floats up to sit on Appa, Momo chittering. “I’ll see you Teo.”

“Yeah,” Teo’s voice is hoarse soft. “Yeah, you will.”

Aang grins. Beaming and bright and bubbly. Finally, is what Teo thinks. But then he floats back down, squeezes Teo’s hand and carries on like nothing happened. With a wave, he leaves. 

Teo waves back and continues to even after he’s a speck in the sky and no longer seen. 

There he goes.  

(But later. As Aang is flying he realises that another person has been there in front of him all along. 

He breathes.

He’ll see Teo one day soon. After he’s not busy with Avatar duties, after Teo comes back from university. 

Spirits know how long that will be. But Aang has always trusted and respected and loved the spirits and so, they do too.) 

———

He knows what he should do.

And where he should go. But he won’t immediately. A few days just travelling isn’t going to do anyone harm. It’s freeing, for his soul and spirit and body.

Air cleanses him like his meditation, but air cleanses him more because the air is a part of him. He is the air. (There were more people who were the air, but they’re gone now, so Aang is air.) 

He’s an Air Nomad. The last one out of them all. The last one standing. He has to carry on their tradition and culture. He has to continue on their freedom. (It’s the least he can do.)

He tries not to think of Katara and home. 

He floats for a while. Again. Him, Appa, Momo. It’s awfully lonely without the company of others, the company of his friends but he can't ask any more of them after what they’ve done and given. They’re busy. And, they took him in, that’s enough too. Became his home. Without them, without Katara especially he has no home and no one to go back to. 

That’s fine though. He’s destined to be a nomad for how long he lives. 

Air Nomad. 

He has no future anymore, no one to build it with, no one to go back home to. 

In some ways, Aang is desperate for someone. For some kind of love so he isn’t alone and empty. In some ways, he would’ve liked to be stuck in the iceberg not knowing what was love and that everything was an illusion, a fantasy. In some ways, he would’ve liked Monk Gyatso to be with him right now and reassure him, comfort him like he always did before. 

(Before everything. Before the monks told him that he’s the Avatar. Before he ran away. Before he and Appa plunged into the ocean and froze. Before the Air Nomads were wiped out. Before he became the boy in the iceberg. Before before before. Before everything.) 

Aang feels. He blazes with emotions. Blazes and burns and sears. He feels , so much, always. And will, forever. 

(Aang has always had a burning heart full of love for anyone and everyone.) 

He chokes on his feelings, it eats him up, festers inside of him (but, one day, it will rot). It hurts. 

The most feeling that stands out is hurt. It encompasses him whole. Burns him. (Fire is life, but this is not that fire. The one that the monks had and taught. Peace, prosperity, let go.)

Feelings have always been a fickle thing. 

Aang knows. (Monk Gyatso knows too. Knew.)

He mourns. For all lost. For him. He just mourns. Tries to let go too, but that won't happen unless he visits that one person. 

But, all he can do now is try to let go in a way he thinks would help him. 

He writes a letter, and he’s aching all over, to Katara. Meant for only him to see and read and reflect. Maybe, once there isn’t a gaping hole in Aang’s heart, he can come back and read all the letters he wrote and feel peace. But that’s not now. 

(The person, who was home and he had after his people, is gone now. The person left. Just like his people did. Just like everyone else would in his life one day. After all, what’s a bit more pain and grief and mourning.) 

He writes a letter. His hand shakes, but he writes and tries not to feel. 

(He fails.) 

… 

Katara, 

I’m hurt. And I’m sorry for what I did. I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry either way. So much. I love you and miss you.

But my hurt is probably nothing compared to yours. 

I’d just really like to fix things.

Love Aang

…

He leaves it at that. Tucks it in his robe. Takes off for a journey with a destination in mind. 

He’s travelled enough. 

He heads off. 

———

Tries to let go again in his journey. It doesn't happen but maybe one day he can. Will. Especially with the person who he’s visiting. Until then, and even after, letters can help, will help his process.

Monk Gyatso always favoured letters. He always emphasized them and their significance. How they can help if only one wants it to and wills it to. 

———

(Aang can’t believe it at first. He doesn’t want to believe it at first. Doesn’t want to accept it. But he understands. This was bound to happen either way. The calm before the storm. 

Everything in his life, Aang’s life, is bound to break and fall apart and leave. 

This was nothing new.) 

———

Aang visits the Eastern Air Temple. 

Some desperate hope to see if Guru Pathik is still there. Still lives and remains there. Some desperate grab and grasp at one part of his past that didn’t change.  

He does. 

…

Inhales. Exhales. Tries to let go of the people pressing on him. It fails.

“Avatar Aang. It is good to see you,” says a voice from behind him and it’s still the same. Aang turns. Guru Pathik looks the same and he feels relief. 

Guru Pathik makes a ‘come with me’ motion and Aang follows him to the chakra pools that feels like a lifetime ago. (It’s funny what a loss can do to you. Especially when you’re the last airbender, the last Air Nomad. A relic. Lost in history. The last of the last. The only one.) 

And Aang tells him everything. “The person who was my home isn’t anymore. And I am left longing for a future that isn’t even there anymore. Isn’t mine.”

He doesn’t cry. He’s cried enough, back at the Temple, with Teo. 

Aang exhales. His voice comes out strong, doesn’t tremble, and he sounds resigned, as if he’s accepted the fact but hasn’t completely. “The Air Nomads have been dead for 100 years. Me and Katara had a future. We don’t. I thought we were going to make things better. We didn’t. We can’t.” 

(He’s only fourteen. Why is he bothering and thinking about this stuff?

But an Avatar’s life, especially such a young Avatar’s life, has never been easy.) 

“Avatar Aang, I will tell you this. Your love for the Air Nomads was reborn as new love. That love is still there, even if it may not be the kind of love you were expecting. As for others, grief is a part of you,” he smiles, sadly, soft. “It will always be there. It is a necessity that you learn to live with it because it lives on in you forever.”

No future anymore, no one to build it with, no one to go back home to. 

Aang inhales, sharply, but he doesn’t fight. Doesn’t refute what Pathik said like he did years ago. He’s tired. He’s done fighting. 

They were happy. But were they really? Were they happy or were they just sad and hiding in the other’s pain? 

No, they weren’t. They weren’t happy, not really. They didn’t even have the time to grow and just hid in the other’s agony. 

It cuts. Hurts. He’s failed her. She’s failed him. They’ve both failed each other. 

The Guru doesn't say anything. Aang realises this all on his own. Guru Pathik watches, silent as it all happens and emotions pass Aang's face. 

“A river is ever flowing. One must decide if they want to go with it, or sink in it,” Pathik says and Aang snaps back into the present. 

(Aang’s always been bad at detachment. Nomad teachings signified drifting with the wind, freedom, and it signified detachment, while it also signified what was dear, what was good for you. 

He thought Katara was good for him and thought that he knew better in terms of himself and feelings years ago but he didn’t. 

What he knows about attachment, detachment, what he remembers from teachings a century ago is that life is filled with suffering and dissatisfaction. But you can choose not to live a life like that. To achieve a state of satisfaction that will last, let go. You will achieve Nirvana, and nirvana is everlasting. 

Let go. And recognise there was nothing holding you in the first place. Never anything to attach to. That is attachment and detachment. 

With Katara, was pain and suffering and dissatisfaction. But, he has a choice now, is presented with a choice and has the chance to take it. Nirvana is forever. Aang knows. Nothing, but everything, was tying him down in the first place. Everything will settle into place.

He always thought it would be the end of him, but, maybe not this time.)

He knows. Aang’s going with the river. He’s going to let go. He’s ready, finally. 

Guru Pathik smiles. “Once you let go, you will be complete. Once you let go, you take what matters most that restores yourself and everything after that comes with it. Once you do let go, Avatar Aang, you take and keep what is true close to yourself.” 

…

Monk Gyatso always told him: You have to come back down one day, Aang. The air is your home, it is our home but we cannot always stay up there in the clouds for the rest of our lives. Our temples are the reason for it.

He thinks he understands. 

There is one person who can fix this, there is one person who can and will achieve this, there is one person who will make him complete, there is only one person who can let go. That is him. That is Aang.

When he came out of the iceberg and everything that happened after it, he was just a scared boy, wanting family to make up for the ones lost. So, he grasped out for something that was there, that was close, and took it, sealing it close to his heart so nobody can take it away. But he lost himself in the midst of it, isolated all his teachings because there were people,and they were there and Aang has never liked to be alone. 

Detachment equals to recognising with it comes nirvana. It equals to recognising that self exists and is something entirely separate and it connects. It equals to recognising unity. It equals to recognising, initially, nothing is ever yours, you need to let go.

Let it ground you. Let go. 

He does. And just like a river, Aang—

He lets go.

…

Opens his eyes. Guru Pathik watches, curious. Aang breaks out into a smile, beaming and bright. So does Guru Pathik; he wears a proud grin. 

Aang is alive, and complete, and true, and he exists . 

He breathes.

———

He takes from the Eastern Air Temple, away from Guru Pathik (he drank the onion banana smoothie drink mixture just for old times sake before he left). 

Things start to look up.

Everything looks clearer. 

Aang scratches Momo’s ear and laughs. “Momo, I’m so happy.”

He chirps and Appa lets out a groan. 

———

(Even before letting go wholly, it didn't affect him. He accepted it. He’d gotten over it. Just not spiritually.)

———

He visits the South Pole. 

All Aang feels is peace. 

Katara’s here, she’s there, close to him and smiling hesitantly and she’s so beautiful and Aang loves her. He gets reminded of all the reasons why he loves her.

(Later, he’ll love a boy who’s a dusk monsoon. Later, he’ll love a boy who’s glory. Later, he’ll love a boy who’s competitive and a summer’s breeze. Later, he’ll love a boy who loves to tinker and who Aang learns it just for him. Later, he’ll love a boy who he loves more than he did anyone else. Later, he’ll love a boy. Later, later, later.) 

(He might not love Katara like that anymore. And that is alright. But he loves her all the same, so much, so infinite, so whole. 

Because you never forget or fall out of love with your first lover.)

He’s the one who moves first. Crosses the space between them and she’s the one who pulls him into a hug. Yanks him into one. 

“I missed you,” she cries, “I missed you so much. And I’m so—”

He feels relief instead, when on another day, another time, he would be bitter and resigned. 

He holds her hand. “It’s alright Katara,” he says, gives her a small soft beam, “it’s okay. I know. Don’t say it.”

Tears still make their way down her face, and he continues on to say, “I understand. I don’t blame you for it at all. It was both our faults.” he pulls back, little beam still on his face, so much like the sun. “And I’m happy now. I’m okay! You need to be okay now, you need to heal. I’ve let go of you. Now you need to.”

Katara sobs, and hugs him tight. “Best friends?” She mumbles against his shoulder.

He nods, although she can't see it, but she can feel it. “Best friends.” and hugs her back just as tight. 

———

And it’s over. It’s officially over and ended. 

Katara’s his forever girl. She’s not anymore, not in that context. But she’s still and always will be his forever girl.

New beginnings. 

Aang’s okay. 

He will be okay. 

…

Hey Katara

I owe you many sorries. And now, I understand. I finally understand. 

In some ways, many ways actually, I was ignorant and selfish and just hurt. And that was what built me and I need to let go of you to see. 

Guru Pathik helped me out. So, most of the credit goes to him. Some of it was me. It’s a wonder what he can do. 

And I love you, and I miss you and care about you so much that words will never describe it. Whatever I put down into paper can never. But you know, and that’s enough.

Forever girl.

But we need to grow. We need to grow up and have a lot of things to do. We’re not how we were two years ago. Time sure flies by, wow. We need to grow, on our own, and heal, and live. 

We need to live! 

Guru Pathik told me things about grief and all of that, how you must learn to live with your emotions otherwise, you’re done for. So, we need to handle it and we weren’t doing a good job on that when we were together. 

So, Katara— I’m letting you go. And now, you need to too! 

We’ll heal.

And you’re so incredibly great. And are so so close and dear to me. All this time, these two years I’ve known you, they have been great. 

You were my lover, but more importantly you were my best friend. You’re my forever girl. 

If you ever need me or someone to talk to and just, anything. You don’t really have to ask with me. I’m here for you. Always. That’s a promise. 

I hope you find your peace, you get to be full and healthy and happy!

Yours Truly,

Aang

———

(Teo, many miles away, lays in bed at Ba Sing Se University, thinks of a boy with grey eyes and soft beaming smiles and dew skin and—

He turns. He tries to sleep.

Once, twice, three times.)

Teo doesn’t see Aang much after that, he doesn’t get to see much of him because he’s in university and Aang is busy doing Avatar duties. 

(Teo’s heard that he’s working on a nation, on a country, where everyone could live in peace and harmony. Teo’s so proud of him. But, he needs to know actually, before he gets his hopes up that Aang is actually doing this, is a part of this because—)

They were both busy, and their visits never happened at the same time. But now he can. He finally can and they can because Aang is coming and it’s been so long and.

But, even if they could not see each other, that did not mean they didn’t speak, they didn’t write. 

Sure, Teo wrote home as much as he could but it was a whole different thing with Aang. 

With Aang, he writes so many times a week, tells him everything, exchanges stories, tells him every small detail about his lie and he knows Aang. Knows which stars he likes, what flowers he saw and picked and wore, and its smell. Teo knows Aang and Aang does too. 

(But nothing could have prepared him for Aang with his midnight storms, boy-sun, dance in the rain, spirits will love you if you love them back. Nothing could have prepared him for Aang and everything he brings in his wake.) 

And—

There he is. There he comes. 

Descends from the sky, looking like poetry, gilded halo and the sun shines. Teo agrees with the sun. 

(Teo doesn’t pay attention to the people in the crowd bursting into noise, he only pays attention to Aang.) 

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even see Aang walking to him, doesn’t even see Aang standing in front of him until he’s there and Teo sees the words forming on his lips. He freezes, blushes, blinks.

Next thing he knows is that arms are wrapped around him, there is heat, and he’s so happy. He sinks into his arms. 

After a few moments Aang pulls back, lets out a ‘huh’ and Teo freezes again, confused, anticipating as he watches attentively. 

Aang is so close that Teo can feel the inhale, exhale of breath and he has to remind himself that this is nothing. Nothing is happening. 

Aang reaches out, lifts a lock of hair (and Teo realises that he didn’t brush his hair in a sudden jolt), twirls it and says, “Your hair’s longer.” 

Teo’s aware of the way his heart is pounding against his ribcage (he wants to tell it stop it heart! stop behaving like this), he is aware of the pink that paints his face, he is aware of everything. “Yeah,” he breathes, “Yeah it is. I grew it out… wanted to see if I’d look good.” 

Aang’s looking at him so closely, as if searching for something, as if he’s never seen Teo before. That moment’s gone as quick as it’s there, fleeting, and Aang smiles (Teo tries to calm his racing heart). “I like it. And you look good.” 

Teo flushes and manages to find his voice. “Thank you.” Aang’s still twirling the lock of hair, he notices, and he quickly lets go as if it's burned him.

There’s a girl beside the both of them and she bursts into cackles, mutters under her breath but loud enough for them to hear, “gay people. Oblivious,” shakes her head and rolls her eyes, wearing a smile. 

They both burn and look away before Aang clears his throat and gestures vaguely. “Wanna leave?” Teo nods and already starts to leave. “Lead the way– oh you already are. Teo, wait up!” 

Later, as they rest under a tree, they can actually have a conversation that’s not in the midst of a crowd and filled with clamor. So, they do, and they catch up on those missing years and what the letters could never say. 

(What could have prepared him for Aang, you ask? The answer is nothing. Nothing at all.)

Aang rests like a tiger-lion, graceful yet still managing to be so powerful. Teo thinks it comes with him being Avatar (he definitely does not think about how Aang has changed. He definitely does not think about how Aang has—) and, “How have you been Teo?” Breaks the easy silence between them.

Teo’s first thought is: what, who? Until he realises Aang’s talking to him and he does not want to tell him how utterly lonely he has been and stressed but his mouth betrays him and ends up saying it anyway. “Me? Uh, yeah, I’ve been good. I think so at least,” he shrugs and it is unfair at how Aang is looking at him right now. It is unfair that he is so awfully pretty. And then he goes, the words slip right out of his mouth. “It’s been a lonely couple of years though,” he smiles, sad and just a touch bitter. 

Aang, if this was anyone else, usually would have not noticed the miniscule tilt down of a person's lips or the bitterness in their tone even if he may hear it and may get treated with it so regularly (it comes with being the Avatar, and he could pretend all he want but it upsets him), but it’s Teo and he knows Teo so he notices everything (all the way down to how his nose scrunches up when he’s happy, all the way down to how his eyes light up, all the ways down to how he gets whenever one of the kids did something, everything). He reaches out but then seems to hesitate and his hand wavers. He notices Teo looking and he smiles at him at what he hopes looks comforting. 

“Well,” and apparently, he decides to forgo whatever he was thinking moments before and reaches out. He holds Teo’s hand and squeezes (one, two, three times) like they always used to do before. (Before. Before he left to fight Ozai, before he became too busy piled up with negotiations and building the world up, before before before. Before the storm, after the fall.) Teo almost jumps at the contact but manages to stop, before he embarrases himself further. His hand is warm, Teo thinks and squeezes back as Aang continues to hold it. “I’m here now.”

Teo’s heart stutters. Aang, you can’t just say things like that. His voice comes out soft when he says this: “Yeah, yeah I guess you are.” 

Aang smiles, so softly that it takes Teo’s breath away. “Yeah, I am,” he murmurs and twirls a lock of Teo’s hair again. 

Fuck. 

———

Things settle into place steadily between them. Their lives are intertwined now, and it’s routine. 

Everything they do, everything that happens—

It’s as if five years haven’t passed between them at all. The way things fall back easily and Teo’s here and Aang is here and. 

One day, under the same tree where they always end up, Aang brushes Teo’s hair. 

Aang’s reading and Teo unties his hair to ease the brewing headache. At one point, Aang looks up and asks, “Can I brush your hair?” Then stumbles, trying to backtrack because it came out wrong, in the way he didn’t want it to. “I mean, if you want me to of course. I wouldn’t force you into anything. It’s up to you. I was just asking, I didn’t mean to come out demanding and stuff,” he rambles and deflates, “you can say no. I’ll just stop.”

Teo listens to him and smiles so widely, fondly, his heart aches. This is the idiot he likes. He’s doomed. Aang will never like him back, that’s a fact and he knows it. Mourns over it at night. “Hey Aang,” he stops his rambling and his gaze snaps up to Teo, hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Yeah?”

“I think that would be great. I’d like that, actually.”

“You would?” He brightens up. “Okay, that’s great! Let me just,” clumsily gestures to Teo’s hair. 

Teo hands him the brush. “You weren’t going to forget the one thing that you needed to actually brush my hair, were you?” 

Aang takes it. “Psh, no I wasn’t. Me? Forgetting? No, and besides I was… measuring your hair. Yeah!” 

Teo snorts, and shakes his head. “You don’t sound very convincing.” 

Aang gathers his hair and falls silent. “Hey, Aang, you know I didn’t mean it like that, right?” Teo says, rushed and worried because he will not lose Aang, will not lose one of the greatest people in his life, to something so small. He shouldn't have said anything, now Aang’s mad at him and it’s because of Teo. 

Aang cards a hand through his hair and Teo tilts his head up to see Aang looking down at him with the gentlest expression he’s ever seen him wear (and he’s seen Aang’s many gentle expressions). “Relax Teo. I didn't mind, I know you were joking. I’m just focused.” 

“You’re fo– Oh. Oh,” he breathes and his shoulders start shaking with laughter, relief. 

Aang watches on, brush halted in air, bemused but happy smile resting on his features. Teo thinks that Aang’s wondering if he’s gone nuts. 

(But he doesn’t. Aang thinks it’s so gorgeous the way Teo laughs and Teo is. High, and butterfly-like. He’s so pretty.)

Teo knocks his hand into Aang’s. He holds it, releases, knocks back. “So, I heard you’re working on something. Oh Great Avatar Aang, tell me about the nation, the country you’re working on. Tell me everything,” he finally says and lets his head rest back on Aang’s legs.

Aang visibly lights up and Teo sees the way his eyes shine. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. And Aang tells him. He tells him how he and Zuko thought of it, how everyone else joined in, how it’s going to be a country where all four nations live together in peace and together as one, how it’s name will be Republic City, how negotiations and things are going, he tells him everything. He doesn't hold back. 

He comes back down. Grins. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s it. For now,” he smiles tentatively and Aang continues to brush his hair. 

Teo’s the one who reaches out and holds Aang’s hand this time. “It’s beautiful Aang. I can’t wait to see it one day,” he states, earnest and just for good measure, squeezes his hand. Aang squeezes back. But what Teo doesn’t say is you’re beautiful Aang. 

At some point, Teo falls asleep in Aang’s arms (what he would do this everyday and what he would do if his best friend liked him back. That’s a fantasy though, it’s just a dream, it’ll only remain in the clouds) and falls asleep to his lilting voice and slow, measured breaths. (One, two, three times). 

And when he wakes up, Aang is gone and there are flowers weaved in his hair. Sunflowers, he realises as he looks from the corner of his eye. Braids too . 

But then he hears footsteps coming and recognises them and stops touching his braid. Aang notices (he always notices) and gives him a small, shy smile. “I didn’t leave,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth as if knows Teo’s distress over it (he knows, he always does). “I’ll never leave without telling you. That’s an Air Nomad braid, by the way. And I added sunflowers too, because they’re pretty and I thought that it would look good, which, it does and I wasn’t wrong.”

When he processes the words, he flushes because that’s a compliment. An indirect compliment but compliment all the same. And then Aang goes and tugs the braid which makes his face sear with scarlet. He wants to say Stop it but then Aang will know so Teo doesn’t. He keeps it to himself, locks it up and locks it away, just like he does his feelings for Aang. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime Teo. Anytime,” he murmurs. 

Teo stops, he looks the other way (like he always does, because he can't face and see aang).

“Guess sleep was really tempting. You knocked out on me and everything.” He laughs, and amusement coats his words. 

Teo likes him. But Aang will never like him back. 

(That’s alright. He’ll make his peace with it. Someday.) 

———

Candramā sang Yuoe.  

Aang knows that term intimately. He is so close to it. 

He knows it like a friend. 

Candramā sang Yueo means to mourn with the moon. 

The first time he’s introduced to it is when somebody at the temple passes away, at night. He would say unfortunately but it’s not unfortunate at all. That somebody is one with the spirits, that somebody becomes a spirit, that somebody is a spirit and lives, loves, does as a spirit. 

That somebody has reunited with the spirits. 

The spirits are good to you if you are good to them, and the Air Nomads were always good to them so they weren’t harmed or pursued by vengeful spirits. 

His name was Sonam. 

(May the spirits love him.)

Aang finds it unfortunate back then, finds it sad but now as he’s grown up and the only airbender remaining, he doesn’t anymore. He finds it beautiful. His culture has always been so beautiful.

His name was Sonam and Aang told Gyatso then, “I am so sad Gyatso, are you sad? Why do people die?” 

(He understands now. He understood then but he didn't know. Didn’t know like he does now, today when it’s still fresh but closed. Not healed, maybe never healed.)

Gyatso had put a hand on his forehead and had said, “My dear Aang, of course I am sad but that does not mean I will let my sorrow encompass me whole. He lives, still. Just not the way we want and expect him to. As for why do people die? They die because it’s time for their soul to move on and join the spirits. They die because we all will one day . Death is a part of life you will face in your life and I hope that you don’t become familiar with it.” He poked Aang’s chest and he giggled, Gyatso smiled softly. 

“Do not let this knowledge hold you back, young one. With it always comes something so lovely. It will not do you good in the future. Many men have rotted away their lives because of it.” Then, leant down and whispered, “want me to tell you a secret? You mustn't tell anyone Aang. I trust you with this.”

Aang leaned towards him, eyes wide and head tilted to the side. Little him had been charmed from the moment he said secret and whispered back but failed, “Tell me Gyatso. You can trust me with this.” 

Gyatso chuckled, and Aang had instinctively drawn near to it. He used to love the way it sounded and moved. (He still loves it now but he doesn’t remember it. Only in his dreams he does. That’s what Aang can say is unfortunate. Candramā sang Yueo. ) “Well Aang, the secret is Candramā sang Yueo. Mourn with the moon as it rises in the night sky and sheds its light. Mourn with the moon because the moon is there and understands your pain. You mourn with the moon because it is your friend like the sun is. And then the sun has a secret too. I’ll tell you it later but it is a precious thing and you must cherish it.”

“I’ll cherish it, Gyatso. I promise.” 

Monk Gyatso smiled. “Then that’s all I can ask from you Aang.” 

That had been it.

Candramā sang Yueo. Gyatso told him first. The monks told him second. 

Candramā sang Yueo. It’s a sacred tradition all the Air Nomads knew about (knew) and practiced (practiced. Not anymore. Aang’s the only one because he’s alive) where you start your process of grieving at night, as the moon replaces the sun in the sky as it goes to sleep. The moon, the night, is the only time you mourn and you hold it in for the sun and begin with the moon again. You mourn in the protection night gives you, in the silence of stars. 

With it, comes a second part. It brings another part to the already beautiful honoured tradition. Because the moon cannot exist without the sun just like the sun cannot without the moon. 

Sūryakō sā Samjni. You do not grieve, you do not mourn.

Sūryakō sā Samjni.  

There are two parts of mourning. One that comes before, and the one that comes after. Sūryak sā Samjni is next, is the second part to the grieving process the Air Nomads used to follow (they still do but Aang doesn’t know. They’re all gone) and falls after Candramā sang Yueo.

Sūryak sā Samjni. You remember with the sun. You do not mourn. You cease it for the day because the sun brings a new day, brings life along with it. You remember with the sun after you mourn with the moon and you remember everyone lost and loved. Even from the smallest of bugs to even the largest animal. You don’t mourn, you keep that for night. You, instead, remember everyone, all those you loved. Remember and honour them, their memories, legacies they left behind and live . 

Just live now.

Live. Because that is what they would want you to do and be happy. For them and for yourself. Live. 

(Remember them because they’re not truly gone.) 

Exhale with the moon, inhale with the sun. 

Dinakō sā Uṭhnhōs. Rise with the new day the spirits bring. Rāta saṅ ārāma. Rest with the night the spirits rose. 

It goes with Candramā sang Yueo and Sūryak sā Samjni too. 

Aang’s got so much to lose though. He’s got so much to mourn. It’s hard to save it all for the moon. (Besides, Yue shouldn’t see his grief.) 

He rests with the night and mourns with the moon. He mourns about his people gone, he mourns about his culture lost, he mourns about being the airbender and last of them all. 

Aang let’s his grief sit and lets it claw through him, tear him apart, and– It hurts, it hurts so much, it’s so painful and heavy and he can’t even speak. 

He’ll never get over the loss of his people and he is angry. He is so angry and it hurts. It all hurts. Everything hurts and he cries. 

He cries. 

He hurts. He breathes. 

Exhale. Exhale. Exhale. 

Dawn breaks, the sun rises and he stops. He lets go. 

He ceases. Rises with the day. Remember with the sun. 

Lets go. But doesn’t actually. It stays in him and will for the next moon, night, and for all the moons, nights, to come. 

( The thing about mourning with the moon is that there is always so much left. Always so much pain that remains behind.)

(Grief lays in him, slumbering so it can be alive for the night, and is a dull heartbeat in the back of his chest.) 

(Mourns with Yue. Remembers them with Agni.)

He inhales, slow and smooth and steady. 

I'm ready to live.   

———

Aang has always been open to love. It’s the very thing that makes him fall in love with people so quickly without any warning. 

First it was Gaden from one of the Air Temples (Northern). So wild and free and roguish. Aang loved him then, he loves him now too. (Monk Gyatso had brought him along and that is how he met Gaden and he was—) 

Katara was second, as he woke from the iceberg and she was a breath of fresh air. So passionate and warm and fierce. Aang loved her, he loves her now too. 

And then now, now , he thinks there is Teo. Teo, is indescribable. Aang won’t do him justice. 

Teo is everything. But everything doesn’t capture him either. 

(He wishes, prays, to Yue that she grants him a love that will stick. Love and person that will stay. 

He hopes it’s Teo. He prays it is.)

But Teo doesn’t like him. He won’t ever. 

(Aang has always loved so much and he’ll never stop. Even at the cost of his own heart.) 

———

“Monk Gyatso,” Aang had said, holding his robe. 

“Yes Aang?” Monk Gyatso had looked down, smiling softly.

“I think–” he says slowly, trying it out and the words next to come out his mouth. “I think I might like a boy.”

Monk Gyatso had beamed, soft like dripping honey. “Love is a wonderful thing, my dear one. It’s beautiful but can be ugly too. You need to be cautious and wise with it.”

Aang had groaned. “I didn’t ask for a lesson Gyatso,” but later had apologised. 

“I know you did not Aang. It’s still good to know. Knowledge in all forms is great to know. But I’ll answer what you were originally looking for, love is pure and it is beautiful so love freely Aang. Thank you for telling me. I am proud of you.” then adds, an afterthought. “I loved a boy too.” 

Aang hugged him, and hung onto him. 

“Gyatso, now you have to tell me. Who was it? Was it nice? How did it feel? Tell me, please .” 

Monk Gyatso laughed. 

(He had told him later.) 

———

Aang is a relic. 

He’s a relic of history lost. A relic lost to the ages. 

There is no one else. It is only him.

The avatar is the last airbender to live.

He doesn’t like to think about it but he falls back on it so many times he can’t help it. He can’t stop it. 

Aang is the only one who knows the stories and history and culture  and traditions. He’s the only one who knows. He’s the only one who remembers. He’s the only one alive. 

His culture is basically dead. The temples rot and are empty and will most likely continue to stay empty. 

He is alone. He is as good as dead. He is–

He’s the sole survivor. He’s the last one standing. Last one living. Remaining of his people. 

He’s from a dead age and nothing will ever fill the empty hollow in his chest that aches of his people gone. 

Teo finds him, hours later, after the sun has gone down and sits next to him. If Aang knows he’s there, he doesn’t say anything, he stays curled up. 

Aang lifts his head and there are tears left on skin. Teo doesn’t say anything. He waits. 

(Aang didn’t wait to Candramā sang Yueo. It got the best of him this time.) 

(There is only so much one can take before they explode.)

“My people are gone and I’m the only one who’s here and alive. And it is so unfair. Everything is unfair. I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t have left. If I had been there then maybe I wouldn't have abandoned them and I’d died with them and I think I would’ve liked th—”

Teo cuts him off. Is it rude? Yeah but who cares, aang is saying all that stuff he has to cut him. “And that is where I stop you,” he’s never firm or resolute but for this he will be. “I don’t think you would’ve liked that, actually. I don’t think you or any of us would’ve liked a world where all the Air Nomads were completely gone and wiped off. So, no, you wouldn’t have liked that you died with them and we wouldn’t have liked it either. And no, even if you had been there nothing would have changed. The world would just be aang-less and everybody would hate that. I don’t think I can live in a world without you Aang,” he looks down and Teo reaches forward to grab his chin and tilt his face up so he looks him in the eyes. 

“It’s not your fault that you weren’t there. What could you have done? You couldn’t have saved them all—”

“But I could’ve saved some of them then,” Aang states, vehemently, eyebrows furrowed and eyes focused on Teo’s. 

Teo realises he’s still holding Aang’s chin. But it’s nice and besides, he should probably savour this moment while he can because this isn’t going to happen again. Or at least for a while.  “Yeah, you could’ve but you didn’t,” it’s the wrong thing to say by the way Aang flinches. “Oh, oh I didn’t mean it like that sunshine. You could have saved some of them if you were there but you weren’t and the world goes on. You’re here now and with us. And the Air Nomads? They’re not gone. Not completely. You’re still here, aren't you. And yeah, you may be the only person but still. The Air Nomads aren’t gone.” And Teo still doesn’t let go. 

Aang’s eyes look into his and this feels so intimate, is intimate, what are they doing, what is he doing, and he’s so close Teo can see his freckles. (he’s got so many, they all dot and spread across him. Another reason to fall for Aang.) His eyes flitter, and Aang tries his hardest not to look at Teo’s lips. 

“You called me sunshine,” he breathes out, eyebrows raised.

“I… I did? I didn’t realise. You don’t mind do you?” (Sunshine slipped out of Teo’s mouth and he didn’t even notice, but he guesses it's because of how well it fits. Sunshine, Aang, there’s no difference really.)

“No, I like it. I just have to find something for you now.” And then he does something new. He nudges his head against Teo’s and leans away, holds Teo’s hand, squeezes, let’s go. 

Teo catches it before it falls to lay at Aang’s side and holds onto it, laces their fingers together and gives him the sweetest shyest smile Aang has ever seen. 

Aang aches, because this is something he’ll never have. Aang aches because Teo doesn’t like him back. 

And Teo— he knows Aang. He knows Aang will continue to think over it and he can’t do anything to help and it hurts. He knows him so, “Tell me about them.” Tell me about your people , goes unsaid but is clear in the silence. 

Aang, for the first time since he’s sat down (wheel-chaired over but he’s still sitting so it’s not a big deal), smiles. It’s small, hesitant but it lights up his whole face, softens everything like the sun. “You really want to know?”

Teo’s never noticed how ancient his eyes are before but he noticed the pain (always did, always knew). He doesn’t know what to do, so he does what he’s best at, being an idiot and does something impulsive. Untangles his hand. Throws caution to the winds and cups Aang’s face. He hears the hitch in Aang’s breath. “Yeah, I do,” he tells him, earnest like he is always with Aang. 

Aang. Before he can stop himself, he tells Teo about the Air Nomads. He tells him about his people. 

(Teo continues to hold Aang’s face in his hands. Never lets go.)

Aang likes Teo. He likes Teo so much. He might even love him. 

———

Aang finds himself telling stories, for Teo, to Teo, because he enjoys them and likes them and Aang will do anything for the people that he calls family. (Teo is not that kind of family that Katara, Sokka, Toph, Zuko, Suki are.) Also, to keep his knowledge alive. 

The Air Nomads used to tell stories down. It was a way of life then, and also now. The tradition of stories came to be because of the Water Tribes. 

Stories were valued by the Air Nomads. By his people. Stories were and are important. They’re how, one of the reasons how they kept the temple alive other than their spirited selves, and Aang keeps his culture alive by telling its stories to anyone willing to listen. He continues the tradition and tries to keep his knowledge alive because he’s the sole person remaining who knows how beautiful the Air Nomads used to be, and he’d be ashamed if he forgot it. 

He passes it onto other people, just like he did one hundred years ago, just like they used to do once. 

Aang will never get over the loss of his people but sharing his culture, his stories, with Teo hurts less. Especially when he doesn’t look at him with sad looks and pitying gazes the others do if forrow leaks into his vice. He just listens, attentive, with curious eyes and lets Aang share. 

Yeah, yeah. Aang likes Teo. He knows it. 

———

“Teo?” Aang whines, lying down but watching him and his work interestedly. 

“Yeah?” He hums.

“Can you teach me how to make things?” 

Teo’s hand hangs in the air in shock. “You want to learn? Actually?”

He nods, eagerly. “Yeah! Besides, you’ve got a degree? Is it a degree, I don't know, now! Let's put all those things you learned to test,” he wraps an arm around his shoulders and hangs off him. 

Teo raises an eyebrow, slanting a curious look to him. “What brought this on so suddenly? You never wanted to learn before.”

Well, that’s because there wasn’t someone in my life who I had a crush on who liked this stuff before, Aang wants to say but he doesn’t. I’m learning this because you love it . “Well, Monk Gyatso always said to learn as much as you can even if you might not be good at it.”

Monk Gyatso had told him that. “My little Aang, knowledge is such a bountiful thing. Learn. Learn and seek knowledge as much as you can. It’s  marvelous. Especially for such a hungry soul like you.”  He had booped him on the nose after that, and Aang had held his finger giggling. 

He smiles at the memory. 

But Teo teaches him and Aang learns.

(At one point, Teo’s hands covered his and he almost melted. Yue, please.) 

(At one point, Aang’s face got so close to his, and he could’ve kissed him then and there here but he didn’t, and he blushed from head to toe.)

Aang gifts him a sunflower and places it in his hair gently, warmly.

Teo flushes, cheeks going red and he bashfully smiles. 

Fuck. He’s such a mess.

———

He’s the one who Aang shares his most treasured stories with.

———

It’s the little things that set Teo’s heart aflame. 

Like Aang bringing him tea, and smiling when he realises Teo looking, and brushing a finger on his cheek as he passes by him, and paying attention to whatever he says when he gets excited. It’s—

It’s everything. But everything can’t even describe Aang.

Sweet and gentle Aang who has the softest of love. Teo likes him. Fuck. Everyone does though, he isn’t special. (Aang doesn’t like him back. He tries not to think too hard on it.) 

———

“There was this… tale the monks used to tell me. Monk Gyatso used to tell me before I went to sleep because I asked for it.” He laughs, melancholic but fond. “It was one of my favourites. I loved it, still do. I’m getting distracted, sorry, you’re waiting for the actual story and not my life story.”

“Aang.” Teo cuts him off, and says affectionately. “I don’t mind any story. Especially if it’s one about you. Monk Gyatso’s wonderful. I think I would’ve liked him.”

“You would’ve loved him,” he tells Teo, hand outstretched as if asking and Teo links their hands without even thinking. It’s muscle memory at this point. 

Eyes soft. “I would.”

Aang’s lips tug into a grin. “Yeah, you would. But, story, it was about the sun and the moon and their love. How it lived to the stars and everything in between. The challenges they faced to get there.”

Teo feels his own grin pulling at his lips and, just to mess with Aang, mentions, “A romantic, huh?”

He sputters before he finally settles on something to say, “Yeah but we know this already. And no, before you ask it wasn’t Tui. It was some spirit entirely else.” 

“How’d you know I was gonna ask if it was Tui?” 

“I can see your grin!”

They stare at each other, startled by the outburst and then laughter spills, and they’re both snickering together and they’re still holding hands and everything is so bright. 

Teo wants it to stay like this forever. While it can, at least and Teo paints a mixture in his mind and shoves it in his memory, deep and there for him to take out whenever he wants to remember and be shining. 

———

“Hey tempest.”

“Tempest?”

“Yeah! You gave me sunshine so I’m giving you tempest.”

“I love it.”

“I know.”

They laugh.

———

Aang gazes at Teo like he actually sees him, is seeing all of him and it’s terrifying but Teo never wants him to stop. 

———

“Did I tell you about that time when I met a lion turtle?”

“A lion turtle? No way.” Shakes his head in disbelief, then: “Did you try to ride it like you always do other big animals?”

Aang laughs, shaking in mirth. “In a way, yeah. But, better, I sat on it and it just kept swimming.”

Teo breaks out into cackles.

———

Yātana wa Chiyū.

Yātana wa Chiyū is where you give back to the earth, to the spirits. You thank them for the little but big things. You thank and take time out of your day to pay your greetings to them and celebrate the plants that grow, the air that people breathe, the sky that gets painted in colours, the animals that live.

There are different ways you can give back to them and show your appreciation. Aang does it in the form of dancing.

Aang had asked Gyatso once, “The spirits love us if we love them and that goes for all other things too. And we pray to them so can I dance for them? It will make us all happy. I think it’ll make them happy. Will they be happy?”

Gyatso had smiled, “Yes, they would. Smart thinking of you. Dancing expresses emotions words cannot ever conceive and it will show all that is true. I think they wouldn't mind.” He had laughed, free, nothing contained. “I would join you in dancing to the spirits but these old bones creak.”

“That’s fine Gyatso!” Aang had laughed too, just like him. “You can still sing the Nirārth.”

He did it in the form of dancing when he was young and the Air Nomads weren’t taken by war, and he does it now. 

Yātana wa Chiyū. Aang feels complete. He hears voices. Voices join him, singing, murmuring, laughing in a tongue of its own, so ancient and powerful to human ears and minds. Spirits. Observing. Spirits, singing. Spirits.

Air Nomads used to give prayers to the spirits. Regularly. Recognising everything and its sacredness and being thankful. Then they didn’t. They stopped until Aang five years ago came out of the iceberg and to carry on history lost and to make up for the time, he began Yātana wa Chiyū again, especially knowing they needed it most in the times of war. 

For them, and his family, and the rest of the world, he stopped the war. 

And he does it regularly, because he is his people and it all lies on him. 

Usually, he does this on his own. Today, he brings Teo along. 

“Watch this,” he says, as he stands in front of Teo and he backs away. 

He feels the dirt under his toes and he spins, kicks, leaps, dances, sings his own verses he knows the spirits will like. 

“Aang?” Teo calls out. “What are you doing? Your dancing is great but there’s more to you bringing me here to just watch you dance.”

He lets out a delighted laugh. “You’re right. Yātana wa Chiyū. Give back to the earth, to the spirits. Tell them you appreciate everything. Thank them. They’ll be happy. We used to do it. Now I’m the one who does it.” It doesn’t fill him with sadness, he doesn’t feel pain over it, the spirits are with him. “Now watch and just wait and see.”

He dances, he sings his nirārth, the leaves start to swirl in circles and Aang looks at Teo with the happiest and brightest grin he’s ever seen on his face it makes a soft grin appear on his. Wait for it, Aang mouths. He waits, and he doesn’t regret it one bit. Wind blows past them, something divine, and then for a minute there were voices. Murmuring, laughing, singing. Teo’s mouth drops open, stunned. Aang laughs, lilting and high and the voices laugh with him. 

Teo thinks, Oh. Oh. This is the Avatar and watches him with awe, soft smile playing on his lips and Aang’s so beautiful. He’s so stunning . 

Do Avatars get blessed with beauty? Are they always so pretty like Aang is? 

(Even pretty can’t do him justice. Nothing can.)

Then they’re gone.

Aang turns to look at him with bright eyes, bright smile, bright face. Everything is so bright. He’s so bright. The moon beams down on him and Teo thinks again that Oh, oh , this is the Avatar, this is the man I like . The moon beams down on him and Aang looks like a god. 

“Did you see?” He laughs, excitement in his tone (he’s so happy tonight) “Did you feel it?”

Teo, because Aang’s excitement is contagious and his excitement is also fueled by it, he giggles. Giggles. That’s the effect Aang has on him. “Yeah! Yeah, I did!” It was so beautiful, he says. But it doesn’t compare to you. Nothing ever does , he doesn't say. 

And Aang, still running high on pure elation, grabs Teo’s hands, brings them up to his face and doesn’t even think , at all. He presses a kiss onto them.

Teo inhales, sharply, and Aang’s still so bright, grinning happily, (Teo wants to see him like this forever) and his eyes widen. Aang’s kiss on his fingers, on his hands, on his knuckles, Aang’s lips on his fingers and—

Teo breaks one hand from his hold, and almost rests his hand on his cheek but manages to pause himself. Aang smiles, almost seems to droop, melt, and his eyes seem to say yeah, go on. Even if it doesn’t, even if Teo reads it wrong, he does go on, does what he says, and he rests his hand on Aang’s cheek and Aang leans into it, his eyes flutter shut and Teo thinks woah, he’s so pretty, and he could wax poetry about this. About him. (Spirits know he already does.) 

Then, a sudden thought intrudes his mind and this is out of his comfort zone but for Aang, he’ll do anything for Aang. He hesitates — mind battling with itself, weighing out its pros and cons — but with a surge of confidence drops his head against Aang’s and he pretends that Aang lets out a contented sigh because he did not. He did not. Aang doesn’t like him like that and will never like him like that. It’s all Teo’s laughable aching hoping. 

Aang wraps a hand around Teo’s and holds. Clutches, and Teo thinks about returning the kiss but he’s already done something so, no, maybe another day. This is enough. 

(It's kinda ridiculous how Teo can hear Aang’s voice in the back of his head even when there are no words to be said or exchanged. It’s kinda ridiculous how Teo can guess, can tell what he’s thinking. It’s ridiculous how he knows Aang.) 

Later, Aang wishes him goodnight with such a soft smile that Teo is left breathless and unable to speak. But when he does catch his breath and can speak without embarrassing himself, he offers him a goodnight to, and (thinks if he should or should not but he) presses his fingertips to Aang’s for brief moments. 

Later, their touches start to linger. 

But now, they stay like that for a while.

———

“Hey Aang.”

He hums sleepily, eyes closed, mumbles, “yeah?”

“Can I trace your tattoos?” Teo whispers in the space between them, because this feels intimate and it’d feel wrong if he is anything but hushed. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, he has to keep his voice down. 

Aang shifts. “You can.” 

That’s all Teo needs. 

He runs his finger over the tattoos that adorn Aang’s skin and that tell about the time gone. “Your tattoos are really pretty. Pretty can’t even cover it.” It’s worth seeing the pink that coats Aang’s face after he tells him that. It always is, when it comes to Aang. 

“Yeah. Like you.” Teo’s turn to blush. 

He continues to trace it, the line and thinks about all its history, the weight and culture it holds. 

“I guess I’ve got to thank you, though.” He admits, thinks Aang’s asleep until he moves to face him and finds him already looking at him, eyes open. 

“Thank me for what?”

Teo’s laughter comes out as a huff. “For giving us hope. You came to our temple that day and were an Air Nomad. That meant a… lot to us. Gave us hope. You were the people who’s temple we lived and built a home in. And you were angry,” he mentions.

Aang’s features twist into regret. “I’m sor—”

Teo interrupts him before he can finish, and smiles ruefully. “Don’t be. We understand. It was our fault. We turned your temple, people’s temple, into something almost unrecognisable. Something sacred into… something else. We understand. We knew. And especially for,” he trails off and leaves it unsaid but Aang hears and understands him anyway. 

“We felt guilty about it too but to survive, we had too…” he shrugs, “what could’ve we done? We found this place and settled down. And the spirits were angry at first but then they weren't once they realised, I think so at least. I think they understood actually.”

(Aang remembers something Monk Gyatso had told him what feels like ages ago. But, in reality, it’s been around five years since he came out of the iceberg and five years in which his people were there and he had them. Five years ago. In five years, a lot has been done. Five years, and for Aang, his people were snatched away by the cruel hands of no mercy. Five years ago, he ended the war and the world started rebuilding.

And it fits what Teo says. Explains it perfectly. What could have they done? 

“To survive, people go to their greatest lengths. Do not fault them for it. Understand them instead and their stories, and the situation they were driven to by desperation. Remember that, my young one." And then they went to throw practice their airbending by throwing pies at people.) 

“Jīshén Ich Adar Rúg Ni Adar Sorer,” Aang breathes out, and laughs in joy, light, because this explains everything. 

Teo raises an eyebrow, curious. “What does that mean?”

“The spirits will respect you only if you respect them,” Aang replies. “And you guys did! That’s why they weren’t angry anymore! They understood. And recognised your situation and desperation. You guys respected them so they respected you back and stopped.”

Aang’s eyes always crinkle when he smiles, Teo observes. He’s known that for ages, he’s just noticing now. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess we did. I guess they did,” he laughs too. 

When he catches his breath, unrestrained bliss in his veins that comes with Aang, he carries on. “And then later on you understand. You tell me that I have the spirit of the airbenders. Coming from an airbender, I was honoured. You tell us that you’re happy we made a home here and made it into something of our own. We owe a lot to you.” For good measure, Teo squeezes Aang’s hand (one, two, three times). 

Aang seizes it before Teo withdraws it. He traces his palm lines with ease like he’s done this hundred of times before and will do it hundreds of more, like it’s instinct at this point, and when Aang meets his eyes. Well, he looks at him with something in his eyes, something fiery and in a split second it goes away. Teo wonders if he imagined it, it’s not unlikely, he’s imagined a whole lot of things. That must be his eyes playing a trick. 

“You don’t. Owe me anything actually. I’m saying this as the Avatar but as Aang too who you know personally.” Closely. “You guys owe yourselves everything.” Comments as an afterthought. “And I know the spirits are happy that you all came upon this place and turned it into something alive once more. Something empty into something that’s so full it bursts.”

Then he closes his eyes again and turns, still holding Teo’s hand. Teo, for a second, thinks he’s fallen asleep but if he blinked he’d have missed the slight curl of his lips and the imperceptible movement of his legs that nudges him. 

But—

Teo falls asleep to the rise and fall of Aang’s chest and the sound of his breathing as their hands continue to hold on and never let go .

(For what it’s all worth, Teo and Aang never let go of each other. 

Even at times where it seems like it but they never let go, not in actuality. 

They never let go. And, I guess, that says everything.)

(Teo dreams of a boy-sun. Dreams of a boy who loves too much and hates too little. Dreams of a boy who loves flowers and loves to braid his hair and presses kisses on his knuckles every chance he gets when the opportunity presents itself. He dreams of a boy who loves the spirits and the spirits love him back. Dreams of a boy who is beaming, ablaze, and everything he isn’t. He dreams of a boy in a meadow with him and they’re happy and in love. He dreams dreams dreams. 

That’s all it’ll ever be.) 

When the sun brings day, that’s how they remain. That’s how they wake up. Aang’s legs hooked around his body, and Teo curled up on his chest—

Aang offers him a smile, beaming and ablaze just like in his dreams. Teo offers him one back.

They don’t speak of it.

———

It's the butterflies sinking in his stomach, spinning and spinning and spinning that Aang thinks: oh.

Oh.

———

Aang. He—

In love or like he’s always never really kept track. 

Aang. Doesn’t know when it happens or how it happens. He just wakes up and knows. 

After. He knows after he Sūryakō sā Samjni. 

Aang just knows.

He knows that his I like Teo changes into I love Teo at some point. As time went on and as the world kept twirl, twirl, twirling. 

(Everything in the world dances in some way, he muses.)

Aang loves Teo. 

And, he thinks, Teo might like or even love him back. 

But that’s just wishful thinking. Teo’s not interested in him like that.

He’s hoping for something out of his reach, out of his sight and touch, like the stars are.

Aang can’t ever have anything when it’s there, right in front of him, in sight and not something like the stars are and something he can tenderly touch. 

It’s fine though. Aang’s dealt with this once, he can deal with it twice.

He’ll be okay. If Teo doesn’t like him back. 

It wouldn't be anything new. 

———

(Teo falls in love with Aang like the sun with life.)

———

(Guess what. What? Aang has fallen in love with Teo like the ocean with the moon.)

———

Teo holds a hand up and Aang doesn’t need any words to know what he’s asking. It’s basically rooted deep in the two of them now, almost reflex. 

He doesn't immediately hold it. 

Teo quirks a brow at him, waiting, watching, and Aang smiles.

“You’re so impatient,” he whispers, laughter in his voice.

“Only for you,” Teo whispers back, a flash of something in his eyes. 

Aang’s breath catches. Stop it Aang. You know he isn’t interested and doesn’t like you back.

Aang brushes his slender, long fingers against Teo’s palm and Teo’s a goner. He’s always been a goner for Aang.

Teo flexes, and Aang pauses, lifting his eyes to meet Teo’s. Saying what are you doing? Do it. Show me. And- that’s all Teo needs. 

He raises his fingers and presses them against Aang’s (it isn’t interlaced. They don’t hold hands), that’s how they remain, in a silence that Teo always finds comfort in when with Aang. His eyes flutter close. And then Aang weaves his fingers like the practice of one who’s done this so many times (they don’t interlace their hands. Don’t link them at all) and Teo slots his fingers on the spaces between Aang’s and—

It’s like these hands were made for holding him. 

I love you. 

———

The first time it happens is when Aang wakes up from a nightmare and it’s still so fresh. 

(Nothing ever goes away. The war’s taken so much. It’s done so much.) 

That’s how he finds himself in this predicament. Walking down the hallway to where he knows Teo’s room is.

That’s what happens as he stands in front of his door, hesitating before knocking. 

And he’s awake, Teo’s awake, and calls him in, leaning on his arm.

“Aang? What happened? Are you alright?”

Aang swallows, wetting his lips. “I’m fine,” is what comes out. “I’ll leave. I probably woke you up.”

“I was up anyway. You didn’t wake me up.” He lays back down. “Now. come on, stay. Please.”

Aang slides in next to him, sheets rustling as he goes under the duvet. Teo reaches out in the fissure between them and he takes Aang’s hand in his. 

“Want to talk about it?”

Aang shakes his head. 

“That’s okay.” 

“Just? Just sleep, okay. I’ll be right here.” 

Teo wavers, but reaches to cup Aang’s face and brushes his thumb across his cheekbone. He hears the sharp intake of air and pretends he has this. 

(In the morning, Aang wakes up for Sūryakō sā Samjni and he’s Candramā sang Yueo. In the morning, he wakes up to find he’s lying on top of Teo as his arms wrapped around his waist. In the morning.) 

———

After that, Aang starts to sleep in Teo’s bed more often than not. After that, they always gravitate towards each other at night and wake up with arms around each other and heads resting against hearts and breaths against skin.

They never bring it up. 

———

It's the way their eyes meet, touches lingering, gazes shared, smiles so soft like the sun itself and Teo thinks—

Yes. Yes, this is it.

———

There was Katara but now, maybe, just maybe there’s Teo.

He had Katara, but he has Teo now. 

And then he doesn’t. 

———

He aches. 

Teo, because he has to know. He needs to know. He has to, just so he knows and doesn’t do anything he regrets, for both him and aang. So he knows what he’s getting into. Needs to know that Aang still doesn’t love her and.

Teo’s always been desperate when it comes to love. 

He has to be. He loves too easily and once he hands his heart to you, well. It’s yours forever. 

He has to know, so he asks Aang, some hidden distress in his voice, he asks: “Aang, do you still love Katara?”

“Yeah, I do,” he answers and Teo feels like he’s been doused in cold water. 

His heart clenches, a knife digging in deep and it hurts. It hurts so much and—

It never really began, did it?

It’s all just been wishful longing for something that can’t ever be his. Something he can never have.

Well. That’s it then, isn't it. It’s the end. Teo never stood a chance. 

His fault for hoping and falling in love. 

———

Teo is nineteen when he falls for his best friend. 

Aang is beautiful, beaming, bright and he’s his best friend and everything is so easy. He can’t help it when he falls for him. Aang makes him smile and laugh and looks at him so soft that Teo’s even more of a faller than he already is. He’s everything Teo ever dreamed about. 

Teo is nineteen and in love. 

But Aang loves Katara and he’s done for. 

Teo loves Aang. He loves him so so much and if he still loves Katara then. Anything to see him happy even if that means Teo doesn’t get to have his dreams and wishes. 

Even if that means he doesn’t get to be happy with the man he loves. 

He thinks that he can’t ever love someone other than Aang.

Teo knows. He knows that he can never have and couldn't ever have Aang, that Aang will never love him back the same way he loves him.

Teo knows a lot of things about Aang. 

He’ll just. He’ll keep going on like this. What else can he do?

(Nothing.)

Teo cries himself to sleep and agony crushes him whole.

Aang will never love him back. 

He’ll always love Katara and only Katara. 

Teo’s a fool. Always has been a fool when it comes to love. 

… 

In another life. In another world, Teo and Aang will be together and happy. 

In another life, Aang will tell Teo that yes, he loves Katara but not in the way he thinks he does. Teo will whisper that he loves him and kiss him, Aang will murmur against his lips and will tell him that he loves him back. 

In another life, they’ll both propose at the same time and laugh about it. Aang will propose to him the way few of his people did and Teo will make him something and give it to him and they will love. 

Forever.

In another life, they will get married, elope and Teo will be staring into Aang’s eyes drowning in only love for him and Aang will whisper Tempest against his lips as their mouths touch. 

In another life, they’ll break the news to Aang’s friends and they’ll shout in shock because they never even knew they were dating and they will giggle. They will adopt children and be parents and they’ll die holding each other like they do now and they will be happy. 

Teo will be happy. 

But this. This is not that life. 

Teo will never have that life.

———

He avoids Aang.

Tries to, at least.

But that’s hard when Aang comes over to him and looks so hurt, says so hurt, “You’re avoiding me. Why?” 

“I didn’t mean to Aang.” Lie . “I’ve been busy.” Lie . “I’ve been making things. Putting that engineering degree to use.” Grins but it falters around the edges. 

“Oh,” he replies.

“Oh,” Teo repeats. “Yeah. Well, I’ve got to,” he vaguely gestures.

Aang’s eyes widen, and he’s still hurt. “Oh, oh yeah. Enjoy,” he awkwardly says. 

When did they get so uncomfortable?  This isn’t them.

“Uh, thank you. I’ll try. My best that is,” and nervously laughs and tries not to cringe but he guesses he grimaces at the faintest smile that raises on Aang’s lips.

His heart cracks in two. 

———

He feels himself fall deeper in love with Aang instead of the opposite, of what he’s been trying to do. 

Falling out of love is hard. Especially for someone like Teo. 

He ignores him, makes excuses and pretends he doesn’t see Aang’s crushed look whenever he leaves. 

If it’s to spare Teo the hurt, then he’d do anything to let Aang be happy with Katara. Even if that means removing himself from the equation completely. 

———

Please. Please let me fall out of love with you. Please be happy with Katara and without me. Please let me mourn what couldn't ever be. Please don’t tell me you love her again, I can’t go through it another time. Please let me pretend I never met you. Please please please. 

———

This pain. This hurt, it’s agonising and he feels like his insides are being torn apart.

Aang will never get over his people and he knows it. 

And it takes him a long time to realise this, realise why, but he does. Aang’s the Avatar. He can’t really detach like the others do.

He can’t let go of his worldly attachments. 

That’s why he has a lot of wild pain and grief that stays jammed in him. That’s why there’s too much to mourn, that’s why it’s hard to save it all up for Candramā sang Yueo. 

That’s how Teo stumbles upon him. Mourning with the moon.

Crying, as the torment eats him away. Aang just cries, freely, endlessly. No words this time. 

“Oh, Aang,” Teo whispers, devastated because this hurts. It hurts him, and is hurting Aang a lot more. 

He can’t really avoid Aang in this state. Or in general either.

Teo draws him in a hug, cradles him, cups his face and Aang clutches at him, desperate. Teo’s never seen him like this before. 

Aang wracks with sobs, gasps, doesn’t let out a noise and all Teo can do is hold.  

Teo’s thumb drags across his eyebrows and presses a kiss on Aang’s forehead. He knows Aang gets comforted by touch. But he is so clueless in what to do, he is so out of his zone, he hates it. 

Aang leans into it and Teo notices. He notices , he always does. And so he leaves little kisses fluttered on skin (wishes he could have this with Aang. But no, not in this life. In another life and world). 

“Aang, sunshine, your people are with you. And I’ve said this once and i'll say it a hundred more times for however long you need me to and for however long you're with me.”

I love you. 

He doesn’t say it. It isn’t what Aang needs. 

“You’re here and many people love you. I love you,” he says it but quickly covers it up with, “you’re my best friend. You’re not alone. You have all of us with you.”

(Aang had them, but then he didn’t. And that is what hurts most.)

(“If I was gone. What would you do. If you never met me then.”

“I’d miss you.”

I’d miss you. Incomplete, and aching. Like the stars do the night sky. Because the stars are nothing without the night sky, and that is me without you. )

… 

He sees Monk Gyatso in his dreams. 

It’s hard to speak, especially with the ash that falls and fire that pulses. 

He tries to say something. Says I miss you. Why’d you leave me? I’m all alone. And here.

Monk Gyasto says back, I know Aang. But, even with all this pain, you live. You are alive and you exist. We’re with you. We haven’t left.

He hurts. He breathes. And he breathes, clearly, for the first time in a while. 

———

The moon glows, much like Aang does always, and Teo can’t help himself.

He never ask the spirits for much, he just has to ask this once for himself and he’s heard her and—

Teo looks up at her. 

“Uh, hi– Hi Yue,” Teo stumbles, speaks again. “I’m Teo, Aang’s friend.” lets out a hushed laughter. “And what I’m asking you is probably selfish but I guess I’ve always been when it comes to love. I just– I need your help and I know you’re the one most likely to help and eager to because you know Aang and are, were, his friend so. I love him and shit, I know how he never will love me back because he loves Katara and he told me he loves Katara so what was I supposed to do. But, that’s not what I wanted to talk about. He’s all, there’s no way to describe Aang actually. I– He’s so great, no one compares and everything and more to me and just. I love him. He doesn’t need to love me back but that'd be nice and I think I’d love it. No, I would love it. Yue, if you hear me and want to, just help me. Please.”

He’s left feeling raw, and exposed, heart out of his ribs. 

But, with how the moon beams brighter, he thinks she’s heard him too. 

———

Listen, Aang loves Teo. And he hopes Teo likes him back. So, the logical thing to do is to ask him out and maybe that will– reveal everything. 

Except Aang can’t. For two reasons. 

1. Teo’s been avoiding him. 
2. The world

Aang has a duty to the word as the Avatar. As an airbender too because, there’s nobody else to revive his culture, history, stories, everything. People just believe them to be myths now, and that’s wrong because it isn’t, they aren’t and Aang lives. He’s real proof of being an airbender and a relic lost to the ages, and history and everything he carries along being the last sole survivor of the Air Nomads (from what he knows, that’s unlikely but that’s what everyone believe so and Teo told Aang not to go looking for something that’s not there. At least, not when the wounds are fresh). 

As long as he lives, he’ll make it his mission to bring them back and share with the rest of the world because someone has to. He needs to in fact.

Aang is the Avatar. And that’s where, how, and what makes the world and just think they can collectively decide for him.

Just waiting to pick him apart over something and if words gets out he loves a boy then–

But he also has a duty to love. Has a duty to his heart that beats every rising day and every sleeping night. 

So, he should be allowed to love without being judged. The world owes him that. He’ll just only ask for that, he can deal with everything else. 

———

Aang can’t really say no, can he?

No. He can’t. Especially when he’s such a sucker for kids

Can’t resist. 

So, he picks up the girl whose hands are reaching for him and settles her on his hip the way Monk Gyatso did with him when he was young. Younger. 

“Hi, what’s your name?” 

“I’m Bo,” she tells him enthusiastically, sticking her hands on his cheeks.

He smiles, beams. “That’s a really good name, Bo! It’s really wonderful. Like you are.” 

She giggles, ducking her head down. “Thank you. It means precious,” she states, solemnly, with a short nod. 

“And you are,” Aang pokes her and she squeals in laughter as a laugh begins to bubble out of him. She tucks her face into his neck. 

Teo watches on, makings of his own smile on his features and wishes he could have this someday. 

Aang sees Teo coming, waving at him to come closer. 

“Did you meet my friend Teo?” Friend, that’s all Teo will ever be. Friend, it sounds so wrong coming out of Aang’s mouth but Teo. “He’s so smart and the coolest.”

“I know Teo! He’s my friend too!”

Aang mock glowers at her, and dramatically says, “He can’t be your friend too. He only has to be one of ours.”

Bo grins and untucks her face from Aang’s neck to look at him. “I’m your favourite. Tell Aang that.”

Teo nods, serious as he says. “Aang, she’s my favourite. Sorry. But sometimes, sacrifices have to be made.” He hides his smile.

Bo wiggles and Aang puts her down, ruffling her hair as she promises “you’re my friend too!” and runs away. 

Over his shoulder, Aang glances at Teo who looked at them, looks at him with an off-kilter, satiny soft smile and the words that were on the tip of his tongue die. Teo has… never looked at him that way before.

(“Aang, do you see yourself as a father?” Teo breaks the silence as they rest under the tree.

Silence, then. “Huh. Uh, yeah. I do.” With you. “Why? How about you?” Aang knocks their hands.

“I was just wondering.” He snorts, shakes his head. “And me? Yeah, I guess. If it’s with the person I like. Love.” With you.

Aang’s face crumbles. “Oh.” Is that hurt that shatters his voice? “I think they’d be stupid to not love or like you and in the future become a parent with you.” 

It’s you , Teo wants to scream, you are the one who’s stupid and who doesn’t love me and isn’t going to be a father with me. It’s you Aang. Why can’t you see? 

I’m right here Aang. I’m right here and in front of you. Just love me already. Please. I love you.

Aang offers him a smile, tentative and not up in the corners, one where it doesn’t meet the eyes. His eyes. “I think they love you back. One day with time. I hope you get to be happy and in love.”

I'm not going to be if it's not you. Without you.

Instead, Teo tries to smirk so Aang doesn’t see through him, but he knows it comes out as a wince. “Yeah. Me too.”)

———

Suffering comes before anything before the destination and cause, before happiness. 

———

(Things go back to a semblance of normal between the two, as normal can be anyway, Aang resumes. Teo resumes too. 

Aang sneaking into Teo’s room, flinging his arms around him, with tear-dusk eyes and trembling hands. Slipping an arm over his hip, bringing him close, sleeping to his warmth. 

Just.

After the rise before the fall.) 

(Teo kisses his cheek every morning and lets himself have this when he can't have anything else.)

———

Oh, the agony. 

———

Loving Teo is as easy as breathing to Aang. He can’t imagine doing anything else

———

Loving Aang is as normal as waking up to day and the sun to Teo. 

(Too bad they’re just stuck yearning after each other relentlessly and not opening their eyes to see what’s in front of them. To see that they love each other and to get it over with already.)

———

Fingers trail up and down palm lines. Fingers trail up and down tattoos. 

Kisses press on skin, soft, gentle, warm. Intimate, but not the deep kind of intimate. 

Hands knock. Breaths blow. Touches linger. 

———

In their world, they only believe in touch. In love too. 

Love touches. 

———

It happens like this:

Aang knocks his hand against Teo’s. 

Teo knocks Aang’s shoulder and pushes him. 

Aang pushes him back and Teo’s back hits the earth and he catches Aang’s arm before he does hit the ground and he. He tugs. 

Aang falls on top of him and from here he can see the stars that dust his face. Sees the universe in his eyes. Sees, realises, Aang's eyelashes flutter on smooth skin and how long and pretty they are. Feels his heartbeat. Feels his heat that spread onto Teo. Feels the movements of his body. 

Teo sees and feels everything. 

And they’re so close. They’re so close. Their lips are hairsbreadth apart, inches away from each other and Teo runs taut under him and Aang is looking at him with so much emotion swirling, pooling in his eyes. Aang is roaming his eyes everywhere, wherever he can and sees, as if trying to memorise him, all of him (down to the very soul, down to the very heartbeats that beat for him) but Aang breaks it as he moves away. But not without pressing a kiss to Teo’s forehead, so tenderly he might cry, and a brush of his thumb against his brow and– he drags it down to Teo’s lips, lets it stay there, and Teo—

He wonders how Aang’s lips would feel on his. 

( What are you doing to me? What you do to me Aang. Don’t you have a girlfriend? Why are you doing this with me then. Aren’t you – )

Teo looks up at Aang and his breath is stolen away for what seems like the millionth time. Aang can’t help what he’s about to do. Just. Teo blushing, and the look in his eyes always as he looks up at him is— 

It’s everything to him and more. He wants to live with it forever. Live like this. 

He can’t help the flow of his thumb across Teo’s brow, can’t help it flowing around and then dragging down to Teo’s lips and letting it stay there. 

Aang wonders what it’d be like to kiss Teo. 

———

The fire wanes and waxes with the rise and fall of his fingertips. The quiet blankets them, and it was easy. Comfortable.

Something Teo always finds comfort in. He loves the silences that expanses and lays on them like something gilded. 

Aang radiates with wicked moonlight Yue gifts and radiates on him.

Fire crackles, and all that’s there is warmth. 

Aang looks up, tugs on a lock of Teo’s hair and places it behind his ear as he runs a hand through his hair. 

And Teo—

Fuck. He wants this. He wants this so much and so bad. Let him have this even if it’s for a moment . 

Anything with Aang. Anything for Aang. 

“Your hairs down,” speaks hushed, as if this is something so reverent as his hand searches for Teo’s to entwine.

A blush blooms on Teo’s face, more warmer than a summer breeze. “Yeah it is.” You noticed. I wore it like this for you because you like it so much. 

Aang hums. “You look pretty,” he tells Teo, still so soft, and presses a kiss on his brow.

He ignores the way his treacherous heart swoops and how he tingles all over just because of Aang and his words. “Don’t I always?” He smirks, trying not to let whatever happening inside of him betray him. 

“Tempest, you’re stunning.” Aang, you can’t go saying things like that. You make my heart do all sorts of things. Stop it. 

Teo falls in love with Aang all over again. 

“Not like you sunshine,” he says quietly, not meant for Aang to hear but in the vast space between them, the silence that cloaks them, he hears it anyway. “I don’t think anyone could forget you.”

Aang’s mouth runs dry, and smiles, small but so bright. “Nobody can ever forget you Teo. I can’t.”

And what Teo would give to write poetry about this, about him.

“I didn’t see you before Teo, which was dumb but. I do now. And,” he mutters, light in his voice and Teo knocks his hand against Aang’s and Aang knocks it back. 

“Do you want to brush my hair? I’ve got my comb with me and this time,” he says slyly, sneaking a glance at him as red creeps up on Aang, “you aren’t going to forget the key needed.”

“Can there be flowers?” 

Teo laughs. “There can be as many flowers as you want.” 

Gathers Teo’s hair, braids, flowers and Teo falls asleep like he did what felt like a lifetime ago. 

He wants this. He wishes he could have this. 

———

It’s everything that leads up to this. 

It’s the kisses (not on lips never on lips) and touches and lingers and it’s everything . Teo can’t keep it bottled up, just, knowing Aang has a girlfriend. Has Katara. 

It’s all those gestures and maybes, and what ifs, what could be’s.

And it could be only gestures and that Teo is looking too closely and that it's nothing more than that. But.

He has to know. He needs to know. If he can have this. 

Teo takes his hands in his and takes his chance. 

Last resort. Attempt. After this, he’ll never do it again and will try to forget everything. 

(Nobody can forget Aang, though.) 

He wants . 

Teo takes Aang’s hands into his and clutches, tightly because. “Please. Please tell me that it’s not nothing and you feel it too. You do too,” he gasps out and it hurts but this has been eating at him for so many weeks and.

He’s aching, he wants to know, he’s desperate to know. 

“I need to know. I need to.” He rasps, giving his heart to him all laid out bare. 

And Teo is breaking, he’s begging and if this was any other day he would’ve—

He would have. 

“I love you. I’m in love with you. But you love Katara. And you don’t love me back and I know that but I just need to know and tell you before I–” He stops, murmurs. “Were you just leading me on all this time? Was this all it was? I need to know. And it's fine if you don’t love me. It won’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Aang–” 

And Aang—

He laughs . He laughs softly, quietly and Teo flushes with embarrassment because he should’ve never done this and this bastard is making fun of him when he’s given him his heart and made himself feel so, so exposed. He shouldn't have ever even thought of this and told Aang because this is what happens. 

Aang laughs, relief encompassing him whole and he feels lighter than he ever has and smiles. And a traitor tear escapes Teo’s eyes and this is why he doesn't do this stuff. But before he can even go to wipe it, Aang already outstretched his hand and brushed it away with the pad of his thumb and lingers. Holds Teo. 

Aang tilts Teo’s chin up with his finger so he meets his eyes, meets his gaze, (Aang’s never looked at Teo like this before) and says, “Teo. Teo,” like a prayer, like a blessing, like he's something a miracle, breathes out. “I don’t love Katara. I love you.” 

Teo’s heart jams up in his throat and all he feels is the thrum of beats and iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou! singing in his veins and drifting all over and he feels ardor. 

“But you told me that you love Katara,” he hates how it comes out weak, his voice comes out as.

Aang lets out an oh, and tiny beam of sunlight, understanding and affectionate as he realises. “I did,” he admits, “and I do love her but not in that way anymore.” 

Teo falters, shaking his head incredulously and states, “We’re so stupid.”

“We are,” Aang mutters, smiling, as he leans forward and Teo tracks every move, tense, as Aang places a kiss right above his lips. Right above where their lips meet. 

Teo glares at Aang and he tries to hide a laugh but fails. It’s there in plain sight for everyone to see. And they’re in plain sight for anyone to see if they come across them. “You can’t just, not finish the job.”

Aang’s shoulders shake in mirth as he tries to hide his face. But he recovers soon enough to do and say this that Teo—

“You’re right. Let me make that up to you,” he whispers. “And you can take this any way you like.”

“Any way I like,” Teo repeated. “Any way I like?” 

Aang’s heart will split in two for Teo. 

“Any way you like,” he confirms, dips his head and teeth peeks out. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Teo reaches out for him and Aang closes the distance between them, draws himself so close to Teo and their lips meet, and they’re kissing. 

Teo is so so in love with this man that he drowns, and it feels larger than life, larger than everything, larger than the whole world and universe that exists and expands over Aang.

“Does that prove it to you?” Aang murmurs smoothly against his lips and Teo fists his hand in his shirt.

“It does,” he hoarsely says. "It does. Now, kiss me again.” 

Aang does. And just because they can.

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss again. 

———

Avatar’s can’t ever let go of worldly attachments.

Aang is an Avatar.

And he’s selfish so.

He doesn’t let Teo go. Never lets Teo go. 

———

Aang had Katara. Now, he has Teo. 

———

(“I wrote poetry. About you.”

“You did? Can I read it, please?”

“Of course you can Aang. You don’t need to ask. I was gonna show it to you anyway.”

“I know I’ll love it. Like I love you.”)

———

Thank you Yue.

———

This is how it goes:

Boy meets boy and falls in love.

Boy meets girl and submerges.

Boy meets boy and is home.

———

Closer and closer.

Breathes in. Breathes out.

Hands. Kisses. Touch. Whispers. Love.

This is how to build a home. 

———

Aang flitters like his people did. He stays in the air but comes back down. Always comes back down. The air is your home and so is earth.

Especially when you have someone tying you down to the earth.

For Aang, that someone is Teo.

And he wakes up every morning, and what a beautiful thing it is to love.

———

Teo loves Aang like the sun with life.

Aang loves Teo like the ocean with the moon. 

———

Hey Katara, it’s been a long time since I’ve done this. 

Something like five years in fact.

And that was for healing and coping. 

I’ve done that all already. So, this is not for you. 

It is for you but not for you you .

I found someone. I know someone. And I love him so much that my day gets brighter if he’s here with me and it's just. I can’t even describe it. I can’t even describe him. That’s how he is. 

He loves me too. That’s all you need to know.

And I am so so happy. I love him.

Love, 

Aang

———

Aang loves and he loses many times in the course of his life but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

Why? Because he wakes up every zǎoste and loves so much with his entire soul and being. 

He loves and loses but he always gains back. 

To anyone else, to everyone else, it’d be surprising, to rise and love this much. 

But to Aang– But to him , it's as easy as he breathes. Exactly like the air is, never ending, ever-flowing. 

He wakes up and he loves and, really. 

It’s like breathing.