Chapter Text
There was snow on the ground for the first time this winter; three inches, enough to close down the schools in the area. Which was just as well, because Jet wasn't in shape to go to the kitchen, let alone school.
All miserable day since around 4:00 AM, he'd laid in bed, with a pounding ache in his head and his chest feeling like it'd cave in at any moment.
He didn't understand why. Sure, he'd had pain over the months since his injury, maybe ran out of breath a little quicker than he should, but never anything like this. There was no good reason for him to feel this way — the doctors had all said he'd be fine, that as long as he didn't do any heavy lifting (he didn't) or overexert himself (he hadn't) he'd be okay.
This was not okay.
He'd managed to drift off a couple times, losing track of minutes and hours in troubled dreams. The pain in his head made the clock on his bedside a blur, the green glowy digital numbers merging and confusing him. He stopped trying.
At some point Sydney came in. She left a glass of gross, iron-flavored tap water and toast that, for once, wasn't burnt, and said she'd stay home from work in case he, you know, died or something. Real heartwarming stuff. She was probably kidding, but it wasn't real funny right now.
Jet laid on his side, wrapping his arms around himself like it'd help shield him from the pain. The change in position eased the pressure on his lungs a little bit, making breathing easier. Just as he started to drift off, he heard the chime of his phone's ringtone. He took a deep breath, debating whether he should compromise his comfort to answer it or just ignore it and go back to sleep.
Another chime. It could be important.
It went one more time, meaning there was only one more before it would go to voicemail. It could be Zuko.
He sighed, reaching over and flipping the phone open before the last ring. "Hello?"
"Hey," Zuko's slightly muffled, staticky voice said, and for a second Jet almost felt okay again. "Um. School's not in today, and I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. Uncle said we could see a movie or something."
Bitter disappointment brought back the ache full-force. Jet sank back onto the bed, sighing. "I'm sorry, Zuko, but I can't," he said, the words hard to get out.
"Oh. Did something happen?" The concern in Zuko's voice was painful. Jet rubbed his eyes.
"It's just a bad day. I don't feel good," he admitted. Zuko was quiet for a minute, and Jet got worried. Had he made him mad by saying no?
Finally, Zuko softly asked, "Do you want me to come over? I can have Uncle drop me off."
Jet hesitated. He didn't want to be alone, but was company worth having Zuko come all the way out and sit in his freezing basement room and be miserable?
"You don't have to," he said. "I'll be fine."
"I didn't ask if I had to," Zuko said. "Do you want me there or not?"
"I do, but —"
There was a muffled murmuring on the other end. "Uncle Iroh wants to know if you have any allergies," Zuko said.
"No," Jet replied, puzzled.
"Okay. I'll be over in about...twenty minutes," Zuko said.
"You're gonna be miserable," Jet warned him.
"I'm always miserable. I'll be less miserable with you."
Jet fell silent, a bizarre warmth growing in his chest. "Okay," he said quietly. "I'll see you when you get here."
"See you then."
Zuko stood on the porch, cold hands nervously fidgeting with the strap of his backpack. He'd knocked, based on the assumption that one of Jet's guardians (for lack of a more accurate word) would be there, but what if they weren't, and he was just wasting time standing here waiting? He was about to knock again, just to be sure, when the door opened.
A woman, probably 40-something, stood in the doorway, openly staring at him.
"What d'you want?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously, lingering on the scar for too long.
"I'm here to see Jet," he said.
She scrutinized him for a long moment, the way Wu did whenever she came in the tea shop, before sighing. "Follow me."
He followed her through the house, which by now he was vaguely familiar with the layout of; he hadn't been to Jet's room, though.
It was in the basement. And it was cold.
Sydney (Zuko was pretty sure this was Sydney) opened the door, leaning in. "Jet, someone's here to see you," she said, before standing aside so Zuko could go in. The door closed behind him.
Zuko looked toward the bed, clearing his throat. Over the top of the covers, he could see the familiar messy brown hair, a little messier than usual. A moment later, Jet rolled over, a pained grimace crossing his face for a moment as he reached up to rub his watery eyes.
"Zuko?" he said, hoarse and quiet. "Mmh. Syd let you in?"
Zuko nodded, shifting his feet awkwardly. "Uh...I brought you some tea," he said, taking off his backpack. "Uncle makes it whenever I'm having a bad day." He gestured vaguely toward his scar as he dug the thermos out of his backpack. "There's also soup," he added, getting a second thermos. "I'm...not sure which one's which."
Jet laughed quietly. "I like surprises." He laid his head back on the pillow, sighing. He looked rough — his eyes had dark circles underneath, and the rise and fall of his chest was slow and labored. "You didn't have to come here," he said, more seriously. "Really. Thank you."
Zuko nodded, setting the thermoses on the bedside table. "Of course."
Jet took his hand, pulling him toward the pillow-piled twin bed. "C'mere, babe, I'm freezing."
Zuko smiled, exasperated but already kicking off his shoes and climbing in behind Jet. His arms wrapped loosely around his boyfriend's waist, his hands touching cold, bare skin. "God, no wonder you're cold, put some actual clothes on."
"’M wearing clothes," Jet protested.
"You're wearing —" Zuko glanced down. "Shorts. That's not clothes."
"You wish it wasn't." Jet sighed, resting his hands over Zuko's, pulling them up to rest over the rough scarring on his chest. "I'm sorry I couldn't go anywhere."
"It's okay," Zuko said. "You're more important than a dumb movie or whatever. I don't like being around people anyways."
"Mm-hm." Jet took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I'm gonna try 'n sleep..."
"Okay."
Jet squeezed Zuko's hand, closing his eyes; Zuko felt him relax, little by little, until his head dropped back onto Zuko's chest.
Zuko sighed, kissing Jet's head and closing his eyes.
The dream was the same one that woke him up this morning; sharp, intense pain, and then overwhelming pressure from all sides as he sank down into dark water. No matter how he fought he couldn't reach the top before his lungs gave out. The hand reaching for him was too far away, the hands pulling him down clutched too tightly. Light was fading around him.
He woke with a gasp that sent an ache through his chest, and doubled over in pain, coughing as he tried to regain his breath. The arms around his waist loosened, a warm hand pulling around to rub his back. He clung to the arm still around him, grinding his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut until the pain started to subside.
Zuko was completely silent, and Jet could feel how tense he was. He turned over, poking Zuko in the chest. "Breathe," he reminded him.
"Shut up," Zuko said, relaxing marginally. "Are you feeling any better?"
Jet shrugged one shoulder. His stomach growled, with an ache that reminded him how long it had been since he'd eaten. The toast Syd had left was cold by now — he didn't want toast anyway, he didn't think he could handle anything that solid. "What kind of soup did you bring?"
"Leftover chicken soup. It's strained, so there's not much in it but the broth and seasonings. Uncle said it'd be easier on your stomach that way."
"Mmh." Jet rolled over to reach for the thermos — he didn't like the way it pulled at his chest, but sacrifices, right? He popped up the lid tab, taking...felt weird to call it a sip, but that was what it was. The soup was still pleasantly warm. It wasn't too filling, but helped settle the discomfort of his hunger after a few mouthfuls.
"I love you," he declared, laying back down with a sigh.
"...Because I brought you soup?" Zuko said, a note of amusement in his voice. Jet shook his head, setting the thermos down and turning to face Zuko.
"I love you because you're you, but right now I really love you because you've made my shitty day so much better by being here." He decided it was worth expending a little more effort to wrap his arms around Zuko. "Thank you."
"Of course," Zuko said, his lips pressing against Jet's forehead. Jet sighed, his eyes starting to drift closed.
"Are you going back to sleep?" Zuko asked.
"Mhm." Jet sighed. "Still a little achey. Gotta sleep it off."
"Okay. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Thank you," Jet murmured, nuzzling into Zuko's chest and slipping off to sleep again.
It was early evening when Uncle called, asking when Zuko wanted him to come and pick him up.
"Uh..." Zuko glanced at Jet, still sleeping on Zuko's chest. "I figure it might be a little while," he said quietly.
"Okay. Call and let me know when you're ready. And try not to stay too late, I'm sure there will be school tomorrow."
"Of course, Uncle."
After a quick goodbye, he hung up; Jet opened one eye to look at him.
"’Zat your uncle calling?" he mumbled.
"Yeah."
Jet nodded, rubbing his eyes and rolling off of Zuko, propping himself up on his elbows. "What'd he say?"
"He just wanted to know when he should pick me up. I said I'd call and let him know."
Jet nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Think we've got time for a movie?"
Zuko checked his phone again; just after 5:00. "Yeah, we've got time."
Jet grinned. "Order a pizza?"
Zuko smiled back. "Sounds good to me."