[drabble] untitled - atla, jet/zuko
Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender
Pairing: Jet/Zuko
Word Count: 207
Song prompt: “Magic to Do”, Pippin soundtrack
Disclaimer: Not mine.
“Show me something.”
Brief silence. Hesitating nothingness. And then a candle, over in the corner, comes to life for one burning moment before flickering out again.
“No.” Jet exhales through his nose, slow, forced patience. “Show me something else.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
Zuko looks at him. A brow-knitted look that, Jet is quickly beginning to learn, holds all his confusions. “What, you want me to do tricks?”
“I want you to do something real.”
He doesn’t understand, not until he sees the way Jet’s fingers twitch toward his hook swords.
“I’m not going to fight you with it.”
Anger tightens Jet’s face. “Why not?”
Zuko watches him, sees his tense body, sees how tightly wound he is, how much Jet wants to kiss him and kill him in equal measure, how he wants to pull him in and how he wants to run away.
“It’d be easier for me too, Jet.”
“What?”
“If we were enemies.”
He moves close, and Jet flinches but stays still when Zuko’s hand, warm, slips into his, into the empty space his weapon would be.
“But it’s too late for that,” he says, and Jet knows he’s right but can’t help wanting to prove him wrong.
Pairing: Jet/Zuko
Word Count: 207
Song prompt: “Magic to Do”, Pippin soundtrack
Disclaimer: Not mine.
“Show me something.”
Brief silence. Hesitating nothingness. And then a candle, over in the corner, comes to life for one burning moment before flickering out again.
“No.” Jet exhales through his nose, slow, forced patience. “Show me something else.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
Zuko looks at him. A brow-knitted look that, Jet is quickly beginning to learn, holds all his confusions. “What, you want me to do tricks?”
“I want you to do something real.”
He doesn’t understand, not until he sees the way Jet’s fingers twitch toward his hook swords.
“I’m not going to fight you with it.”
Anger tightens Jet’s face. “Why not?”
Zuko watches him, sees his tense body, sees how tightly wound he is, how much Jet wants to kiss him and kill him in equal measure, how he wants to pull him in and how he wants to run away.
“It’d be easier for me too, Jet.”
“What?”
“If we were enemies.”
He moves close, and Jet flinches but stays still when Zuko’s hand, warm, slips into his, into the empty space his weapon would be.
“But it’s too late for that,” he says, and Jet knows he’s right but can’t help wanting to prove him wrong.