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“Hi Honey! I’m home!” she heard her husband call out from her spot in the den and her smile broke out wide. She was up on her feet instantly, knowing he’d carried his voice through the open windows so she could rush to the door and into his arms to be, quite literally, swept up. He did it even when they were only apart for a few hours, getting to the point where he would drop anything that was in his grasp simply to catch her. She loved so much being nestled against him, tucking her head beneath his chin or having his tucked under hers. Feeling weightless in his arms with or without his airbending.
They’d been apart for too long, and she was so excited to see him.
Was.
“Aang! Welcome-. . .home,” she said, looking at the open door where he was standing, smiling so widely it was as though the sun could be summoned into their home from his grin alone.
“Darling!” he said, completely oblivious to her pause, as he made two, three strides forward and scooped her up in his arms. She lifted a solid foot in the air, her legs curling up at the knees as he spun her. She giggled, getting over the initial shock.
It was. . .so scratchy against her collarbone. His muffled “I’m so glad to see you” tickled at her throat and she lay her hand at the base of his neck, supported entirely by him. He pulled away, finally, but didn’t set her down. Instead, he looked up at her, adoration in his eyes.
Usually, the same adoration would be reflected back in hers. They’d had multiple comments about how gushy they could be. Sokka could barely stand to be in the same room as the two of them for months after they got together, and now, 7 years into their relationship, she still felt the same molten heat in her heart whenever he came into a room, especially after being away for so long. She’d gotten back from the South Pole, settling some diplomatic business, just a week ago to a letter that said he’d be a bit late from his Avatar duties in the Earth kingdom.
The last time they’d been apart for so long, months and months and months, she’d found him again more handsome than before. Taller, certainly, and with a bassy rumble to his voice that hadn’t been there before. She’d welcomed these changes with open arms, her eyes going downright moony each time she couldn’t keep herself from leaning up to kiss at his jaw.
This time. . .well.
“Aang!” she said, laughing nervously as she surveyed him. “You too, uh, honey.”
Sweet, gentle Spirits, what had he done with his face? Who was his counsel? Did he have access to reflective surfaces of any kind whilst he was away.
She brought her hands to his face, wondering how she could break it to him. He was the love of her life. The breath in her lungs the same way she was the water within his veins. Her trust and faith, the twinkle in the light, the literal wind beneath her metaphorical wings. He lidded his eyes, looking at her with the spark of a thunderstorm in them, smile as wobbly and lovesick as when he’d been young and hopelessly in love with her. Now, he was older and still hopelessly in love with her. It was her favorite expression of his, the one he didn’t even bother to hide, his open admiration like dew on her skin, kissing each feature of her face.
She, however, couldn’t look away from his jaw. It was a travesty. Atrocious. A slight against her, him, the entire Avatar line, and, most importantly, her libido.
She hated his beard more than she hated anything.
Anything.
“Oh, my love,” she whispered, bringing her palms to his cheeks. He yielded to her immediately, kissing each of her palms, first one, then the other. His hot breath on her hands didn’t even deter her. “What did they do to you?”
At that, he froze as though he’d been encased in ice again. His brows furrowed after a moment, looking up at her through his lashes.
“’Tara?”
“Did you. . .lose a bet?”
He looked even more quizzical as she stroked the new addition to his face. Realization leaked out of his expression and she saw in real time how he became the personification of confusion, eyes searching into the depths of her own.
“Kat,” he started, but she cut him off.
“I will always love you, Aang. Will you always love me?”
He paused, suddenly becoming aghast. “Of course!” he said, easy as inhaling. He nodded enthusiastically. “My breath, my heart, my tides and stars, of course. Why are you asking?”
She felt his hand warm at her back and under her legs, holding her up like he was hanging the moon in the sky itself. The earnestness of him was why she fell in love in the first place. Fell so hard she thought she’d never be able to get up again, though Aang showed her he would always be there with hands outstretched. She was the softest spot of him, where he would always yield. And she had grown to love just how much he would yield to her, to her benefit, to his own doubt. She breathed in heavily, looking at him and bringing one hand to his chest where she felt his heart beating as the other continued to thumb at his face. “Because you’re punishing me, clearly.”
“I’m sorry I was away for so long,” he whispered, leaning in even as she leaned away, and he looked heartbroken. “Are you that mad at me? Tell me what I can do to make it up to you,” he insisted. “I’ll do whatever it is.”
“Will you,” she whispered, tenderly tracing her thumb over his lower lip, where his beard wasn't even close to reaching, “shave?”
He paused. “Huh?”
“Please? Sweetie, for me?”
“You mean- Kat!” Finally, she broke and started to cackle as the realization came through him. She squirmed so hard in his arms he finally set her down, pouting. “I was actually worried!” he said, though there was the slightest pride there that she had gotten him the same way he would get her. Sure, he wasn’t as sly about it, mostly doing harmless little pranks and tickles at her ribs and spine when she wasn’t looking to make her throw whatever she had in her hands up in the air, only to catch them in a gust of wind.
Her husband, joy itself. What was it the play had called him? An incurable prankster?
“Oh,” she wheezed out, pressing a hand to her chest, “I love how you always believe me.”
“This is like when you told me there was a spirit under the bed!” he accused.
“Yes, a bit, except now the monster is on your face.”
He rubbed at his beard self-consciously. “Is it. . .is it that bad?”
“No, no!” she started to assure. “You’re always going to be handsome. My handsome, wonderful man. You’re just,” she bit her lip, trying to cover up her giggles, “a tiny bit less handsome with it than without?”
He groaned. “I knew it was a bad idea. Why did I let Sokka talk me into it?”
“Sokka?” she guffawed. “He must really have hated how I can’t keep my hands off you. It’s like you have a squirrelmunk on your face.”
Aang looked like a wounded animal, much like the one she first thought Sokka glued onto him. “Taraaaa,” he whined.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” she acquitted, but he looked at her skeptically. “I promise! I mean, at least I know you won’t be able to throw any bald-faced lies my way.”
He groaned at her terrible pun. The jokes really didn’t run in the family. She was grinning as though it was brilliant though. He wasn’t actually hurt, but damn, if she wasn’t a waterbender, he’d question if she was from the Fire Nation just from how she was roasting him.
“I’ll shave just so you won’t make that joke again.” Then, he paused. “Will you kiss me to at least see the difference just once?” Sokka had told him women loved the feeling of a beard when they kissed. And, well, he had no experience in that particular field.
“Oh, darling,” she said, looking at him and bringing her hand back to his cheek. She leaned in and his heart melted in his chest again as he curled down to meet her. A hairsbreadth away from her lips, he felt more than heard her whisper, “I’m really trying to follow this whole vegetarian thing and that means I don’t put dead animals near my lips.”
He sputtered as she laughed again. “Okay, got it! I’ll shave!” he said, breaking himself and laughing with her.
“Thank you!” she called as he made his way to the small bath closet where there was a bowl of water and his shaver for his hair. It would take barely a few minutes, even as he firebended the water a little warmer so it wouldn’t shock his face. It was good for him to refresh anyway, especially if he was going to kiss his wife after this. His beautiful, wonderful, suddenly funny wife.
Sokka and his darned advice. Aang closed his eyes as he scrubbed at his face. Yeah, it was never very good. He remembered the being aloof conversation. So, papaya. He set his gaze into the pool of water in the basin, bending it still and shaving quickly along his jaw. At least this was better than that particular brand of wisdom.
He felt at the close crop, standing back up. Suddenly, his hands were replaced by Katara’s, and the feeling of it so close to the skin made him jolt and send a pleasant shiver up his spine.
“Oh? You’ve decided you like me, again?” he said, feigning disinterest.
“Yep,” she replied simply, a laugh still caught in her throat even as he spun in her grasp, the wind rustling his robes. He smiled down at her and looked at the way she ogled him. As disappointing as it was that his beard didn’t suit him as well, the way she looked at him now stroked his ego plenty without it. Years of their relationship and she still looked at him like he was the only drink of water in the entir Si Wong desert. His own heart fluttered in his chest as he looked over the gentle curve of her smile, the way her eyes squinted just slightly in her mirth. His thumbs rubbed up and down her sides, desperate to feel the warmth of her.
“Well, hello handsome. Welcome back,” she said, and he didn’t even have to bend down as she lifted herself on tip-toes and traced her hands down to his orange collar, fisting the linen as she yanked him down into a searing kiss that had his toes curling.
He sighed against her, ice of him yielding to water and pliant in her grasp as always.
If she was going to kiss him like that, her hands scrabbling to grasp his robes more tightly, as though trying to rip them off at the seams, well, maybe he needed to grow the beard out just to shave it off, again.