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Don’t Mind the Phone, It’s Just Sokka Calling by gotrice15278

Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, she was going to have a place to stay when school was on breaks. That was better than staying in a hotel, motel or taking a plane back home. No, she had worked hard throughout high school so she could go abroad for college. One person wasn’t going to ruin it for her. She wouldn’t allow it.

“So,” Zuko said, breaking her thoughts as he fished out his keys from his left jean pocket. “When’s your first day? Sokka said I should tour you around a bit so you get the hang of the Tube.”

“Well, um, I have about two weeks. I need to get supplies and stuff.”

“You do know that Sterling Pounds are about double the U.S. Dollar, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, good. Did you need it changed?”

“I did that before you picked me up.”

“Good girl,” he smirked.

Katara couldn’t help but notice that his scar, the one his dad caused one drunken night, was fading or at least blending better with his skin. He jiggled the lock before it clicked and then opened the door.

“Welcome, Miss Oxford.”

“Thanks…I think,” she said as they filed into his flat.

The flat was peaceful and quiet when she woke up. She walked around a bit, getting a better idea of the layout of the place and realized she was alone. However, Zuko was nice enough to leave a note on the fridge. ‘Eat up, I’ve got errands to run. Be back later.’ Opening the fridge, she poked around a little before settling on some leftover chicken cutlets.

She hadn’t been aware she had fallen asleep on the couch, until she heard the front door close rather sharply and Zuko yelling. She quickly wiped the drool from the side of her mouth and sat up. She peeked at the irate man as he walked pass her and into his room, still yelling and now, cursing.

“Fuck! Fine!...that’s utter bullocks!” She heard him shouting from behind his bedroom door.

He emerged in his boxer shorts, making her look away.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it,” she repeated like a mantra.

She knew it was a bad idea; living with Zuko…in London…even for a few days at a time. They had always had a love-hate relationship, but there was always Sokka to intervene…now their only sane connection was in Miami…happy to have the family beach house to himself with his girlfriend.

Katara shut her eyes and bit her lip as Zuko paraded around the apartment in his underwear. She couldn’t help but think of how toned he’s gotten since she last saw him…two summers ago.

“Shit,” she muttered.

She wouldn’t admit it, but Zuko had always been the source of her frustrations, innocent or not. She liked arguing with him, she thought of how sexy it was when his jugular vein twitched when he was livid.

She heard his footfalls coming toward her, and since she was sure, he hadn’t taken notice of her, decided to feign sleep. Having finally ended his tirade on his phone, she could hear the floorboards creak under his weight.

“Oh, shit,” he hissed, “shh, quiet.” He told himself.

She mentally smiled, he probably remembered she was living there now and he was parading around in his underwear.

She heard him retreating and thought it the right time, “ZUKO!” She jumped up from the couch.

He jumped, slipped on his feet, and landed on his bum. A smile spread across her face as he gaped like a fish and clutched his chest.

“Damn it, woman!” He struggled to his feet and charged at her.

He had a feral grin on his face as he landed on her and caught her wrists. She flailed about for a while before her knee made contact with his ribs. Despite this, he hadn’t loosened his hold on her.

Then they tumbled off the couch, grappling on the floor. His hands skimmed across the thin fabric of her spaghetti strapped tank top as she grabbed the back of his knee, trying to pull him off balance.

“Have to do better than that, Sweetness.”

She frowned at the detested nickname, and pushed her elbow hard against his cheekbone —and she could feel his molars.

“You’re the one who barged in. I’m still jetlagged.”

“Bull,” he panted as he squeezed the hand pressed against her chest gripping a handful of her hair -- this causing the scrunchy to fly off onto the floor.

He held her down on the floor; their grappling sessions were notorious. But he always maintained control, so that they wouldn’t really hurt themselves. He moved, pinning her down.

She peered up, noticing that familiar pulsing vein and the sweat starting to bead upon his brow. She smiled wickedly as she relaxed her legs that she had wrapped around his body holding him firmly in place above her while he kept her pinned down.

She tapped at his shoulders, a sign of surrender, and allowed her hands to roam over his back. He involuntarily shivered and moved to close the gap.

“It was two summers, wasn’t it?”

“When we were at that pool party and got pissed-drunk?” She looked up at him.

“Yeah…you know, your brother asked me afterward who had given me a hicky on my collarbone.”

“Oh, really? And what did you answer?”

“Some crazy girl who likes to fight a lot.”

He smiled as her legs now wrapped themselves around his midsection. There was no gap between them now.

“You know,” he whispered wickedly as he balanced his weight on his arms. “I always knew about your fetish.”

“Oh?”

“You always look at my collarbone when we fight.”

She blushed as he kissed that spot under her ear and things heated up fast. They had not noticed the phone ringing until…

“ZUKO! I KNOW YOU’RE DOING SOMETHING TO MY SISTER!”



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