Silk & Twisted : Open
Series Title: Silk and Twisted
Story Title: Open
Author: Moor
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I make no claim to “Avatar”.
A series of drabbles, one-shots, and other shorts all relating to sex, in one way or another. This round: Toph & Aang, by special request.
Finally, they’d talked.
(But just prior to that…)
She’d gone to bed two hours early, just to get away from him. He was being stubborn and infuriating and she wanted nothing better than to eject him from her life. She was utterly fed up and unsatisfied with everything and anything that had to do with the (formerly) most important person in her heart. And though she couldn’t figure out how, she knew her heartbreak was her own fault, too. She didn’t know what else to do anymore. She couldn’t believe she’d wasted so much of her time, so many of her emotions on him, trying to do what was right, trusting him, and now realizing she barely knew the man she’d fallen in love with. She was angry with him, but furious at herself. How had she been so stupid?!
She felt like screaming, but was too frustrated to even do that. She lay down on their futon, staring unseeing at the ceiling, trying to calm her rushing heartbeat, her ragged breath. She felt tense, and forced herself to open her fisted palms. Letting the silence of the darkened room envelop her, she took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes. She knew she wouldn’t sleep for a while, but hopefully she’d not have to face Aang again and end up riled back up. She’d just fake sleep if he came to bed. She hoped he’d stay away forever.
Letting out a huff, she tried to block out the vibrations she sensed, even through the futon’s cushion.
But Aang had always been brave, and that courage was something she’d admired in him, long ago. So, after some time had passed, he’d decided to crawl into bed, sitting beside her, but not touching her… and he looked at her. She didn’t have to see him to feel his eyes on her. He kept watch over her for a bit before finally starting to talk about his day, his week, all the way back to the beginning of the month, just telling her everything he’d been going through, thinking, feeling, having to manage because of his responsibilities; opening the door to invite her in to see his side of their life together.
It was like a damn burst between them, one beam cracking at a time as the pressure built up and eventually blew the blockage apart. In spite of her best attempts to ignore Aang and feign sleep, Toph found herself looking over at him, too; and openly listened. Soon she nodded at him, acknowledging his words, his concerns, his worries. After an hour or so, she started reluctantly talking about her own doubts, and was surprised at how quickly she was able to relax around him again, relieved just to have his presence there beside her, attending to her, truly listening to her for once instead of cracking jokes and immaturely distracting her from her troubles.
Talking uninterrupted, sharing so openly, bordered on a tangible sensation to and between them; and they were hesitant to actually break, by any kind of physical touch, the re-discovered cord that connected their hearts. It took time-hours--but they parlayed, bit by bit: sitting together; shifting closer; leaning forward; and… embracing. With timid hands they caressed arms, hair, faces, lips. Near dawn, overcome with physical and emotional exhaustion, they collapsed in unison under the light blanket, his arms encircling her waist, peaceful together for the first time in ages.
Aang leaned across Toph, running his hands over her side reverently. He’d missed having her so close, both physically and emotionally. He’d almost lost her-he prayed he’d never make the same mistakes again.
Toph stirred slightly in her sleep, noticing the altered rhythm of his heartbeat. When she mumbling-ly asked him what he was doing, he softly replied it was “all part of the intercourse between lovers”. She corrected him sleepily, “you mean the discourse between lovers.”
The faint light of the approaching sunrise reflected mischievously in his dark eyes, and he shifted smoothly to straddle her, deliberately making his intention obvious to her as he leaned close and put his cheek to hers and murmured, “No, I think I had it right the first time,” in a low voice.
She smiled at him, and slowly wrapped her hands around the back of his head and shoulders, languidly pulling him down to her. “I’m willing to be wrong on occasion,” she admitted.
AN: Crap, I wrote something serious. Did I embarrass myself with this? (Honesty, please….)
AN: Not sure how I feel with this one… I tried to make it in-character, but I’m still learning.
AN: I've just noticed, I keep giving the girls/women in my stories 'bad days', and having the guys come save them. I should switch things up next time!
x-posted to ff.net : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3362701/3/