[fic] Feeling Peckish
Title: Feeling Peckish
Word count: 512
Pairing: Jet/Zuko
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Zuko Xi is really ticklish.
Note: Another little perfect_info story, though you don't need to have read PI for this to make sense. Written for the seventh and last day of Jetko Week, which was a blast. <3
***
"I'm hungry," said Jet. He was sprawled across the oatmeal-colored futon with his legs propped up on the back, feet pressed against one of the apartment's tall windows. His head hung over the edge, and he flashed Zuko an upside-down smile. "You're making curry tonight, right?"
Zuko glanced up from the papers strewn across his desk. "You can't possibly be hungry," he said. "We had lunch two hours ago."
"Bee kept snitching my tacos."
"She made them, it's her right."
Jet heaved a long, loud sigh and draped his arms off the cushion as well, so that they hung limply on either side of his head. "I can't hold on much longer," he moaned. "My stomach is gonna digest itself."
"Jet…"
"I'll waste away!"
Zuko chuckled, pushed back from his desk and crossed the room. "You look fine to me," he said as he sat beside the other boy. In truth, Jet looked very much more than fine, even now as he dangled off the edge of the futon, his face turning red and his hair standing straight up.
"I'm desperate," said Jet in a strained stage whisper. "I may have to turn to cannibalism."
Zuko reached down to ruffle Jet's hair, though the angle made it awkward. "I have faith in your self-control," he said, his tone wry.
"You shouldn't," said Jet, and bit Zuko on the arm as if to prove the point.
"Ow."
"Come on, that couldn't possibly have hurt," said Jet, laughing as he righted himself. He took Zuko by the shoulders and darted forward to bite him on the neck, harder this time.
"Ow!" Zuko tried to push him away, but Jet's arms shot out and wrapped around his midsection. "All right, I'll make you dinner!"
Jet pulled back again, licking his lips. "Changed my mind."
Zuko realized a moment too late what he planned to do. Still holding Zuko's torso in a solid grip, Jet dipped his head down and mouthed the side of Zuko's ribcage, making dramatic snarling noises all the while, and Zuko's entire body convulsed.
"Stop!" he gasped, his hands tangled in Jet's hair as he tried to hold him off, but Jet was relentless. He moved to gnaw playfully on the soft flesh just above Zuko's hip, fingers tickling along Zuko's ribs. Zuko squirmed in his grip and tried to wedge his legs between them, but was laughing so hard that his eyes watered, and all he managed was to end up on his back with Jet straddling him.
"Jet, stop…I'll make…" Glasses askew, he was too short of breath to get through the whole sentence at once. "…Make dinner…"
Sensing weakness, Jet clamped his thighs around Zuko's hips, easily batting all attempts at defense aside, and wormed his hands into Zuko's armpits. "Told you, I changed my mind," he said, his grin wide and white. He shifted his weight, moved so that Zuko could feel him through their jeans. Still gasping for breath, Zuko's chest heaved as Jet's hands slid up under his shirt.
***
Word count: 512
Pairing: Jet/Zuko
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Zuko Xi is really ticklish.
Note: Another little perfect_info story, though you don't need to have read PI for this to make sense. Written for the seventh and last day of Jetko Week, which was a blast. <3
***
"I'm hungry," said Jet. He was sprawled across the oatmeal-colored futon with his legs propped up on the back, feet pressed against one of the apartment's tall windows. His head hung over the edge, and he flashed Zuko an upside-down smile. "You're making curry tonight, right?"
Zuko glanced up from the papers strewn across his desk. "You can't possibly be hungry," he said. "We had lunch two hours ago."
"Bee kept snitching my tacos."
"She made them, it's her right."
Jet heaved a long, loud sigh and draped his arms off the cushion as well, so that they hung limply on either side of his head. "I can't hold on much longer," he moaned. "My stomach is gonna digest itself."
"Jet…"
"I'll waste away!"
Zuko chuckled, pushed back from his desk and crossed the room. "You look fine to me," he said as he sat beside the other boy. In truth, Jet looked very much more than fine, even now as he dangled off the edge of the futon, his face turning red and his hair standing straight up.
"I'm desperate," said Jet in a strained stage whisper. "I may have to turn to cannibalism."
Zuko reached down to ruffle Jet's hair, though the angle made it awkward. "I have faith in your self-control," he said, his tone wry.
"You shouldn't," said Jet, and bit Zuko on the arm as if to prove the point.
"Ow."
"Come on, that couldn't possibly have hurt," said Jet, laughing as he righted himself. He took Zuko by the shoulders and darted forward to bite him on the neck, harder this time.
"Ow!" Zuko tried to push him away, but Jet's arms shot out and wrapped around his midsection. "All right, I'll make you dinner!"
Jet pulled back again, licking his lips. "Changed my mind."
Zuko realized a moment too late what he planned to do. Still holding Zuko's torso in a solid grip, Jet dipped his head down and mouthed the side of Zuko's ribcage, making dramatic snarling noises all the while, and Zuko's entire body convulsed.
"Stop!" he gasped, his hands tangled in Jet's hair as he tried to hold him off, but Jet was relentless. He moved to gnaw playfully on the soft flesh just above Zuko's hip, fingers tickling along Zuko's ribs. Zuko squirmed in his grip and tried to wedge his legs between them, but was laughing so hard that his eyes watered, and all he managed was to end up on his back with Jet straddling him.
"Jet, stop…I'll make…" Glasses askew, he was too short of breath to get through the whole sentence at once. "…Make dinner…"
Sensing weakness, Jet clamped his thighs around Zuko's hips, easily batting all attempts at defense aside, and wormed his hands into Zuko's armpits. "Told you, I changed my mind," he said, his grin wide and white. He shifted his weight, moved so that Zuko could feel him through their jeans. Still gasping for breath, Zuko's chest heaved as Jet's hands slid up under his shirt.
***