Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction ❯ Avatar: The Wind on the Waves ❯ Chapter 13

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

The warm candlelight accented the autumn reds and yellows about the small room. Blankets, hung up as wall décor when not in use, softened the otherwise cold stone walls. The carved nightstand bore a wide bowl of fresh water, be it for a midnight drink or cleansing the face upon waking. There was little sound throughout the chamber, save for soft sighs and gentle kisses.

Still reveling from their earlier excitement, Katara could not get enough of experiencing Aang: his stormy eyes, his lips, the feathery touch of his fingers on her face. She had embraced him tightly, but as her grip loosened, her hands came to rest on his collarbone.

Had Aang been wearing the looser robe that exposed his shoulder, disrobing him would have been all too easy. But as that had been burned away by Ozai, and Aang was now a fully realized Avatar, he now wore the full robes and heavy shawl. Removing them was going to take a while; Katara suppressed her groan.

Aang, on the other hand, did not seem so forward as he had been during their first coupling in the woods. He trailed kisses along the corner of her mouth, descending to her jawline. Katara felt the smile against her throat when she shivered.

Ah, but his hands were not still! After pulling her close against him, Aang loosened his grip to hold her waist in his hands. Fingers flexed on her garbed body, and he snorted his disappointment.

Katara shifted herself and pulled the heavy winter coat over her head. She meant to toss it onto the chair beside the bed, but missed, and didn't seem to care. Her lips reunited with Aang's as her hands slipped up under tan airbender shawl. His body heat could be felt so easier here, but his bare skin would be far warmer. Slowly, she pulled the shawl up and over his head; their kiss was broken up only for as long as it needed to be.

Katara anticipated the removal of her shirt to come next, but Aang rushed not at all. Ghosting kisses over her face, he then rubbed his cheek against hers, loving the warm, chaste contact. Her soft sigh against his ear caused him to shudder.

An amused snicker from Aang woke Katara from the romantic haze surrounding them. She watched, curious, as Aang bent some water from the bedside bowl into a heart shape. Carefully, he breathed a low, steady flame behind it so that the heart lit up for Katara. Her amusement charmed him.

“You're not so out of breath this time” she noted.

“A couple hundred firebending drills will do that.” He smirked, bending the water back to the bowl. “Was that too silly of me?”

“No, Aang, that was just perfectly you.”

They leaned into one another, touching foreheads. Aang took her hands into his own and massaged them, relishing their softness.

Oh, but her hands were not the delicate things they appeared to be! Aang knew all too well what they were capable of, and as such, respect was due to them. These hands had taken out legions of enemy soldiers, knocking them prone and turning their own attacks against them. Just as they hurt, they healed. They chillingly bent blood, and they saved his life. In reverence, Aang brought those hands to his lips and kissed them.

“Aang…” she sighed.

Closing his eyes, Aang focused only on the feel of her hands in his own. His fingers moved from firmly caressing her palms to her wrists, progressing up her arms. Lost in his tender touch, Katara rested her head against his shoulder. A deep breath flooded her with the room's essence: the candle smoke, traces of incense, soft linen, and of course Aang.

Aang's trail continued on up her arms, slipping beneath the short sleeves of Katara's shirt to pamper her shoulders. She moaned softly, his fingers rubbing away tension she had never known was there until now. Skillfully, Aang managed to reach the middle of her back, between the shoulders; applying pressure there garnered him a relaxed sigh of approval.

Those books, Katara reasoned, had to be how Aang was so good at what he was doing. There was no other plausible way. He was spoiling her and excelled at it.

A stray, jealous thought darted across her mind, one that suspected Aang of having been with someone else prior to meeting her. But that concern was invalid; he had been a silly boy when they had met, and far too preoccupied with having fun to have been in a serious relationship.

Even in those days, Katara recalled, she had caught him smiling at her often. It was a goofy smirk to be fair, but almost always was it for her. Perhaps she really was his first and only, a friend who gradually fell in love with her. His shy, adorable blushes whenever she had planted little kisses on his cheeks certified it.

Lost in her musings, Katara failed to notice that Aang had been working at the very same spot on her back for a while. She kissed his neck to remind him she'd not dozed off on his shoulder. A satisfied snort from him made her sit up. As his hands withdrew from her sleeves, there was a sudden looseness around her.

“What the…?”

Fabric shifted against her skin beneath her shirt. Lifting her hand and deftly feeling her chest, Katara found that Aang had unbound her chest wrap. The linen strips unwound with little movement from her, slipping to pool around her hips.

“Aang!” she mockingly scolded him. He simply turned his rosy, sheepish expression to the side.

Even with all that had transpired between them, Aang was still shy in some regards to intimacy. It amused Katara that he could be so mature and yet still be so bashful.

Aang took hold of the wrap and unwound it from around Katara's waist, careful not to tear it. The thick material of Katara's shirt kept her body covered, but without the secure wrappings, her bosom stood out a little bit more against the cloth. Aang did not stare, but admired her, appreciating her beauty as he always had.

“Would you… close your eyes and turn around, Katara?”

The question seemed so simple, so casual, yet the purpose behind it puzzled Katara, and piqued her interest. When she searched his eyes for an answer, he only beamed love for her and added, “Please?” She did as asked, wondering what he meant to do.

Her shirt was carefully, sensually lifted over her head and put aside. The new engagement necklace still decorated her throat, and Aang's fingers brushed it briefly. Katara had anticipated the room to be chilly, but the candles, even with their small flames, kept the room cozy. She cracked an eye open to peek, but Aang quickly warned her not to.

The soft splish of water being bent touched her ears. The hands that came to rest firmly on her shoulders were coated in warm water, and Katara loved the feel of it. Aang gently kneaded her shoulder blades as she purred under his touch.

The water was warmed further, and Katara recognized it as the Healer's Touch. She would know it better than anyone, as she had spent weeks at a time trying to revive the then-comatose Avatar. Katara was not injured, but being treated to this was blissful.

“I never had the guts to say it before, because I was afraid you'd take it the wrong way, but I really like it when rub my back like this.”

“You never had say it, Aang. I knew.”

He moved his hands in circular motions along her backside, taking care not to miss a spot. Whenever his hands reached her shoulders, he let a few drops trickle down her front side. It tickled, but did so quite stirringly.

Aang sent the water back towards the bowl, but Katara retrieved it, keeping it warm on her hands.

“Don't you want the same?” she asked.

“You just want me to take my upper robe off!” he flashed her a snarky grin.

“As if you ever had a problem shedding your clothes!”

“Did you expect me to swim or practice waterbending with it on?”

“And when you're firebending?”

“I could've accidentally lit myself on fire with it on.”

“When you're earthbending?”

“Earthbending is dirty work, or have you not seen Toph when we don't insist she take a bath?”

“That's true. Then the only time you DON'T take it off is when you're airbending.”

“Or when we're walking around town.”

“Are you going to take your top off or not?”

Aang complied, the grin never completely leaving his face. He was still quite lean without being scrawny; hours of bending drills had toned his torso well. Katara couldn't help but stare despite having seen Aang shirtless so many times. Unlike those other times, however, she was unafraid to let Aang see the color in her cheeks.

The Avatar shied under her gaze. She placed a water-covered hand on his chest and gently pushed him to lie back on the bed. This surprised him, as he had anticipated attention to his backside, but as she began massaging his chest and stomach, he certainly wasn't going to object.

There was a certain familiarity to this act. From the deepest recesses of his mind, Aang recalled feeling Katara's hands on him this way before. When he knew he had never actually seen her do it, he grasped that this had been part of the healing sessions while comatose. That had been the deepest form of intimacy to transpire between them at that point and time.

Katara brought her hands up to his neck, working the water all around and along his collarbone. Wherever she moved the water, there was left behind a light sheen that glistened in the candlelight. Aang purred beneath her.

Bending the water away, Katara continued rubbing his chest, taking delight in the friction the water had previously prevented. She worked her way down slowly, gradually, until her palms brushed the hem of his pants. Baggy as they were, she knew very well what lay beneath.

Aang took her hands in his own and pulled her on top of him. Her breath caught in her throat as their bare flesh came into contact. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling Katara into a deep kiss. Katara shifted herself, earning a soft moan from him. She purposely ground her body against Aang's; he threw his head back in a louder, aroused cry.

The arms holding her to him tightened their grip. His lips descended upon the base of her neck, planting kisses that lingered. A thrust of his hips elicited a surprised gasp from her throat, and she melted under his soft attentions.

All around them, the candles flickered. Shadows danced with every movement the tiny flames made. The swirling triskele emblem of the Air Nomads accented the feel of the room. Peace radiated from all contained within the resting chamber.

Katara's voice broke the silence in praise of Aang's fingers on her breast. Aang did not need to do much bring her pleasure this way, and by just this simple caress, it was he who was blessed with her wordless approval. Her eyes, pinched shut, and quick, heated breaths on his skin gave credence the enjoyment he lavished upon her.

Aang rolled them onto their sides, still facing one another. His fingers trailed her side, sliding painstakingly unhurried down to her hips and flattening his palm there. Katara dipped her finger into her mouth, then brought it to Aang's throat and dragged a line downward past his chest and stopping at his navel. She repeated this motion while her eyes never strayed from the gray ones staring back.

Brushing his navel, Katara was reminded of just what it meant for Aang to be the Avatar. Not one, but all four of the elements obeyed him. He communed not only with the physical world, but with the spirit world as well. The Avatar was likened to a deity who had given up his place in the heavens to instead reside among mortals.

Yet…

The Avatar was not immortal. He lived and died just as every other creature did. The divine being was born to humans and lived among them as such. No matter how many times his spirit returned, the Avatar still had to learn to speak and walk, to grow mentally and physically, and to bend the elements one art at a time. When the time came, be it of old age or the consequences of his purpose on the earth, the Avatar would die, be reborn, and repeat the process once again.

Katara needed no reminder of Aang's mortality. His brush with death at Ba Sing Se had been very real and terrifying. Without the holy water from the Spirit Oasis, all had agreed, Aang would surely have died, along with Avatar spirit and any hope the world might have had for an end to the war. So as she brushed his navel with her fingertip, his preciousness went not unrevered.

His hand kneaded her hip evenly, treasuring this contact with every circular motion he made. Reaching out to him, Katara rested her hand just above Aang's waist, then slowly worked her fingers under hem of it. There was still a belt to untie before she could remove this part of his clothing, but right now, it was enough to poke just beneath it. Aang took the next step by undoing the knot on her belt and pulling it free.

Katara moved to undo his binding, but found herself unable to do much with Aang's hand rubbing her bare skin. He hadn't even pulled her skirt down to do it, simply slipping his hand beneath the fabric to touch what was hidden. Her breath caught and she was momentarily unable to do anything to him. Struggling not to be swept away, she tugged at his belt. Without the simple silken strip, the loose pants slackened about Aang's slender frame.

As soon as her hand came in contact with his bare hip, Aang pulled her in closer and didn't let go. Katara's hand ghosted from his side to his back, working its way down to cup his rear snugly. Though already half naked, they seemed to only grow hotter as their explorations continued.

The earthen tent had been dark, barely letting in any of the moonlight from outside. Here, by the light of many candles, they could see one another clearly and in all of their sacred glory. There seemed to be a holy aura about the room, a place of meditation, and what transpired between the Avatar and his love was sacred and full of purity.

Katara drew the thick, loose garment down Aang's legs, and he finished removing them for her. He was clad only in his loin piece, leaving little to the imagination. Aang drew her firmly to him, moaning in her ear.

The better lighting piqued Katara's curiosity about Aang. She had always marveled at the streamlined pattern of his airbender tattoos. They descended down his spine to wind around his limbs and end at his hands and feet. Part of her wanted to see for herself how low the back stripe tapered or if it split to go down his legs.

But to see them would mean turning Aang over, and doing so was the last thing the Avatar wanted to do. He was just as aware of the candlelight as she was, and it gave rise to some of the apprehensions that had previously not concerned him the first time; Katara had felt him, but not seen him. Aang tightened his hold of her and pressed kisses to her throat. She would not see him if he could help it.

The waterbender sighed sweetly, but her determination to see him fully kept her active. Her fingers slipped into his loin piece and unhesitatingly began drawing them off. It was a tricky feat given that Aang would not relinquish his grip on her, and that on account of such, Katara needed to unhook it from him. As the fabric shifted off of him, Aang buried his face in her neck, muffling his moans.

He tilted his face up to catch her lips with his own. A tattooed hand entangled its fingers in Katara's skirt and pulled it off of her. She broke the kiss to help him remove it. Aang quickly covered himself, a deep blush flooding his paleness.

“Aang?”

“…”

“Is something wrong?”

“No… I—I'm just a little…I-it was different… in the dark…”

“Because we couldn't really see each other that well?”

He nodded.

Katara rubbed his shoulder, then traced the blue arrow. Her light smile never shifted as her fingertips trailed down his arm, lower and lower, to the hand attempting modesty. She could feel Aang tremble at the proximity of her hand to his sensitive body. Her eyes suddenly locked with his, and he recognized the words spoken next.

“I see you… and you're beautiful.”

Her fingertips stopped at the tip of the arrow and gently took hold of his wrist. Hesitantly, he let go of himself and let her guide his hand to her breast. The words sunk into his mind, and realizing the silliness of his fear, breathed it out.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

Katara drew him into a long, languorous kiss, enjoying the taste of his mouth on hers. The hand on her breast squeezed gently and massaged with all the tenderness of the airbender it belonged to. She purred contentment upon his lips. Liking the reaction, Aang sidled downward to take a peak into his mouth. Katara gasped, cradling his head as he suckled.

The final barrier between them now was drawn off the waterbender's body and cast aside. The rosy blush never left the airbender's face even as he buried it within the plush of Katara's bosom. His arm slid around her waist and rested the hand, splayed, on her lower back. Her body was pulled flush against his.

If the Avatar thought he would be rolling over her, he was mistaken. A mischievous curl of her lips and it was Katara who overtook him. His love-lidded eyes watched her as his mouth hung agape, having lost the soft skin it had been nursing. She knelt above him, straddling his hips and loving the reaction.

Katara lowered herself to sit on him. So close… what an insane tease it was to be so close! Aang tried to sit up and embrace her, but only managed to grip her wrists tightly. Their breathing picked up, and even some of the candles flickered by it. She pushed against him, throwing her head back in a long howl. Aang followed her, echoing her provocative song and refusing to release her wrists. Katara ground against him more, and their mutual volume increased with every repeated motion.

Aang trembled at the feeling of being so near. He pulled Katara forward and just off of him, her face coming only a hair from his own. Locking eyes, their heavy breathing slowed only minutely. No words were needed now; Katara eased herself back cautiously.

A few anxious pants preceded the resounding cries as they slipped together. Fists balled up in the soft blankets. Katara's hips shifted slightly off of him, then let gravity draw her down, tearing another scream from them both. He gave an experimental thrust, and the sensation forced his hands to her hips, holding her there. It was incredible how deeply sheathed he was within her.

Aang slipped his palms to cup her bottom, grinding her forward once… twice…, then she followed the rhythm. Her arms kept her upright, and her fingers appreciated Aang's lean, toned stomach. The deliberate, unhurried movements and easy slip were indescribably sensual.

A great amount of willpower was needed for the Avatar's next intentions. One arm gripped Katara's waist as he sat himself up, face to face with the writhing waterbender. The other arm moved back to support him in this position. By this posture, they connected much deeper, and their love song only grew louder.

Katara threw her head back as Aang breathed hotly against her chest. Every brush, every thrust, every sound set their nerves afire. The familiar tightness where they met as one grew closer, ever so tauntingly closer. Aang at once latched onto her breast, suckling in time with his thrusts.

Katara howled her release, bringing Aang over the edge with her. The candles flared suddenly before going out just as quickly. Blue arrows lit the darkness in a blurry, foggy glow. Descending from their heaven, Aang collapsed onto his back, with Katara slumping beside him.

Too exhausted for words, Aang drew her against his chest and pulled the soft coverlet over them. Sleep soon claimed them both, but their dreams only led them on from where the waking world had stopped.

Many hours later, Aang opened his eyes to the darkness. He recollected his thoughts and flexed his fingers on the warm shoulder in front of him. Katara's soft sigh tickled his bare chest. Mildly chilled, she snuggled deeper into Aang's warm embrace.

Now almost fully awake, the Avatar assessed their situation. He was lying nude with Katara after having made love to her. Very passionate love, he smirked. The candles had gone out at some point or other, which led him to another, somewhat more pressing question…

How long have we been asleep?

Careful not to disturb Katara, he bent a tongue of flame in his free palm and looked about the room. The flame sputtering out, however, disturbed his glance. Confused, he bent another fire, only for that one to go out as well. Giving it one final try, he watched his own palm for a culprit; the flame seemed to snuff out as though by water.

“Katara?” he whispered, thinking she might be awake. But a snoozy moan was the only reply.

Feeling a slight chill, he tucked his arm back under the coverlet and around Katara. As curious as he was to his fire going out, he would rather stay in suspense a bit longer than disturb the sweet waterbender beside him.