Chapter Text
“Zuko, just let me hold your hand!” Aang pouts yet continues to reach for Zuko’s hand again despite having his own hand slapped away for the third time.
Make that fourth.
The Avatar—the most powerful bender who’s very experienced in achieving his goals— decidedly switches tactics and begins to utilize his full-body power. Throwing himself onto his adversary as a grand, sneaky scheme of wiggling commences atop of the poor firebender. The Avatar expertly waves his arms in all directions, which ultimately leads him no closer to his desired destination.
In normal circumstances, Zuko would probably be amused by Aang’s overzealous attempts at such a simple request, a daily interaction even. Though, while he would not be quite on the ground in hysterics, Zuko would typically have released a chuckle or two. Not today. Today’s circumstances are not ordinary, and Zuko is not laughing. Their campsite is way too close in proximity for Aang to be pulling this sort of stunt. What if the others see? Zuko contemplates. We had an agreement. At least, I thought we did.
“Oh, c’mon, Zuko!” Aang pleads, wiggling his fingers and flashing that sweaty palm inches from Zuko’s nose.
An odd sensation buds deep within Zuko’s chest as Aang’s thumb brushes across the top of his hand— reassurance. That’s what those stupid, squirmy fingers had to offer, and it is an offer Zuko knew all too well.
Honestly, it is not like it is even that big of a deal. It’s not like Zuko wants to turn down the so-called offer! In case you are wondering, this obviously would not be the first time Zuko held Aang’s hand in his own. Or even the first time Aang pleaded for Zuko to do so—usually, however, Zuko is not so reluctant. It is about the timing of the thing—Aang’s timing, which was terrible. Though Aang did spend roughly 100 years, or the entire war, in an iceberg, so it’s not like Zuko could say it is much of a surprise.
Iceberg or not, it doesn’t matter. Zuko promised himself that he would not give in. Aang will just have to suck it up and ride on one of his air scooters or something because I’m not doing it. Eyes glued straight ahead, Zuko continues on his path to the Western Air Temple to meet the others after their little excursion with the Firebending Masters.
Was he walking his way back to camp? Running? No, maintaining is probably the best word to use at the moment. “Walking” is too generous of a term. Zuko is mostly treading along—barely—with the entire weight of a flailing Avatar atop of him. And, believe it or not, airbenders? Not as light as you’d think.
It is hard to ignore Aang, however. Even when trying his best, it’s almost impossible. One moment the Airbender is behind Zuko, above him, and below him. During one very strange millisecond, perpendicular to him. All in less than twenty seconds.
There is no way Zuko can keep this up forever. There is still a substantial amount of traveling to do before they reach camp. With Aang’s fluctuating body, it has become increasingly hard for Zuko to move. “Aang,” Zuko warns, finally irritated enough, using the same tone he employs when Aang calls him Sifu Hotman one too many times.
“Zuko,” Aang counters, giving his firebending teacher his biggest, brightest grin and most persuasive eyebrow waggle. Too caught up in his facial techniques, Aang stops wiggling around, removing most of his weight from Zuko. This—this right here is his big opening, Zuko’s only chance.
Zuko bolts, darting far away from the Avatar. And, Aang, well, he slips immediately, only catching himself from smacking his face off the dirt thanks to his airbending abilities. “Zuko!” Aang calls after the firebender as he begins to chase Zuko down.
The air currents surrounding Zuko begin to feel more intense, which either means he is picking up speed or the airbender’s finally closing in on him. Going with the latter, Zuko conjures massive flames from his fists, propelling himself fifty feet from his adversary.
Sure, he got some extra time to think, but really what did he have to think about? It is not like he is going to fight Aang over hand-holding, of all things! What is Aang going to do to him other than annoy the spirits out of him? Where’s this little game of theirs headed anyway?
Turns out, there is not as much time to ponder these questions as he thought. Before he can even comprehend what is happening, the Avatar is falling from the sky—and, much to Zuko’s horror—right above him with limbs swinging wildly. Limbs wrap tightly around Zuko’s torso like an octopus who found a brand new home. Zuko’s eyes fall closed in defeat.
“C’mon, Zuko, why can’t I just hold your hand? We did just sort of kind of get married, after all,” Aang points out, laughing as he lays his head on Zuko’s shoulder.
A few seconds pass as Zuko allows himself to receive the Avatar’s imploring gaze. A stare that is not so much ‘confident’ as it is full of hope, and perhaps a bit of fear. The pair had just been over this, and it would not kill— not even bruise — him to hold Aang’s monkey-feathering hand. If the others happen to see, it is not like they would assume the two had accidentally gotten married, right? They would probably presume Zuko and Aang had gotten their heads out of the cabbage cart long enough to start dating.
Not marriage.
Who assumes marriage right away? No one, Zuko. Literally, no one, Zuko reminds himself.
“Fine,” Zuko concedes, offering his hand to his personal human backpack, who starts grinning like an absolute dunderhead. The Avatar, ladies, and gentlemen—Spirits, help them all! Before Zuko could even begin teasing Aang for being so clingy, the world decides to throw a fireball directly at this moment.
“What?”
“Did you just say—”
“Married?”
Suddenly, both men are more alert than ever, eyes bulging, mouths agape, and heads turning ever so slowly toward the unexpected party of Sokka, Toph, and Katara. No. No. But, the air temple was right over— Zuko snaps his head side-to-side—Here. We were just five miles away. How? Running. Fighting. Hand-holding. Airbender. Jet propulsions...right.
Aang’s grip on Zuko’s hand slackens, “Monkey F—"
"— Fuck."