Summary: Someone told him that he was 'too young' for the last time. He was not a kid anymore and he was going to prove it, and all Katara had to do was enjoy the ride. Kataang. Warning: graphic lime.
Sexual content with underage minors (Aang is 13, Katara is 15)
If you are uncomfortable with the ages of the characters, then turn away now. That is all.
Sometimes, Aang wondered if people underestimated him.
Oh, it wasn't enough that he became a fully-realised Avatar by the age of twelve, ended a one-hundred-year-old war in a matter of months, and created a never-before-seen bending form in just a day that could permanently take away a person's bending, no—that would just be ridiculous. Who cared if he was the greatest Avatar to have probably lived; who cared if he was a bending prodigy with skills already on par with most bending masters of the world—who cared about any of that stuff if he still looked like a prepubescent teenager?
He hadn't even grown any facial hair and, as Sokka just loved to remind him, facial hair was the mark of a man. Aang, as the water tribe warrior would say, still had the face of a newly-born babe (or, if he were feeling particularly nasty, the backside of a baboonmole—Sokka was extremely lucky that he was born as Katara's brother, otherwise Aang might have reacted to that comment in a completely different manner).
Aang still commanded respect, of course. Wherever he went, people would gaze upon him with awe; they would practically worship the very ground he walked on. He was like a god to these people and, while it made him extremely uncomfortable sometimes, Aang couldn't deny that it did nurture a swell of pride inside him. He was probably always going to be an attention-seeker deep down. But that wasn't his problem. He could tolerate fawning crowds and crazed fan-groups; he appreciated being acknowledged—it helped him forget about his past shames and convinced him that he was on the right path to fixing his mistakes.
His problem was not with the attention people gave him—it was the attention people didn't give him when they were point-blank flirting with his girl.
Of course, they wouldn't do such a thing right in front of him. They were cowards who made their advances a fair distance away from him, and always in public. Aang gritted his teeth together, wondering how the people around him couldn't hear the sharp grinding. The Earth Kingdom lord in front of him continued to chat animatedly, complaining about the recent bout of rough weather that had affected his city and demanding that the Avatar become his personal weather-changer to compensate for the loss and optimise his own agricultural production (not in those exact words, of course, but Aang got the gist). On the outside, Aang was the perfect gentleman—polite, relaxed, and charmingly diplomatic. But in the inside, he was seething—those who knew him well would be able to notice the unusual tenseness of his jaw and the sporadic flickering of his eyes. When he caught sight of his beloved, his hands clenched tightly into fists and he had to work to keep a vein from popping out from his forehead.
It was always like this—every single time he and Katara were invited to a party (usually hosted by the Earth King or Zuko), they would end up separated somehow, and while Aang was busy being the Avatar, leery young men who thought they were being sneaky would approach the waterbending master and put the moves on her.
Sometimes, Aang wondered if they'd forgotten that he was only across the room and that no, actually, he was not in another country and thus he could see what they were doing perfectly fine.
"Avatar Aang?" a voice called out. "Hello? Did you hear what I just said?"
Aang tore his eyes away and stared at the Earth Kingdom nobleman (whose name he couldn't quite remember right now). He was met with a frown; the man was obviously displeased that the Avatar hadn't been paying attention to his whining. 'Oops.' "My apologies, good sir. I'm afraid that I'm just a little tired—I've been travelling recently and haven't had time to rest properly. Can you please repeat yourself?" he asked, flashing one of his more boyish smiles that practically screamed sincerity and honest repentance.
The nobleman huffed and said again, "I was talking about the sudden appearance of horsewasps that were—"
"Ah, yes, the horsewasps! Hold that thought—I think I hear someone calling for help. I'll come back to you!" Without further preamble, Aang escaped the nobleman's clutches and practically ran through the crowd of laughing, chatting people in search of Katara. "Excuse me, pardon me, oops—sorry for stepping on your dress; it's lovely by the way. Excuse me…"
He couldn't help it—he really couldn't. His own perception of self-worth wasn't always the greatest and even though he trusted Katara with his whole heart, he couldn't help but be filled with anxiety every time someone approached her with romantic intentions. It made him sick in his belly, made him want to firebend the men away, made him want to whisk Katara away from everyone else so that they could share a rare moment alone with each other. He was always travelling—constantly attending to his Avatar duties which seemed insurmountable despite the ending of a century-year-old war—and it wasn't fair that the only times he was actually with her, he was always torn away to attend to more Avatar-related business. It was cruel and he hated it.
(A secret part of him missed the war—at least then he was able to monopolise Katara in their little travelling group. But then he'd realise what he was thinking and would punish himself with a cruel, yet justified, fast from all foods and liquids, and commit himself to an intense meditation to suppress such an ugly, horrible thought.)
Said waterbender turned her head at the sound of her name and called back, with a smile, "Aang!" She had been chatting to an older nobleman—Earth Kingdom, clean beard, cheerful eyes; he couldn't be any older than twenty years—and while he wasn't standing inappropriately close to her like he first thought he was, Aang was still tense. "Aang, this is Ji Yung. Have you met?"
Aang reached her side and automatically put a possessive hand on her hip. Katara gave him an odd glance but continued to smile at him softly. "No, I don't believe we have," Aang said, smiling brightly. None of his features—besides the hand—betrayed his inner wariness. He hated this; these twisted emotions made him feel dirty and, looking at Ji Yung, made him feel guilty and petty. This was behaviour unbecoming of an Avatar and he was going to try his hardest to keep his true emotions secret. "I'm Aang."
Ji Yung bowed slightly; there was a slight upward quirk of his lips. "No need to introduce yourself, Avatar Aang. Of course I know who you are. It's a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance." He straightened and Aang didn't miss the way his eyes narrowed at the hand on Katara's hip. "You certainly impress me, Avatar Aang. You look so young. How old are you?"
"Well… one hundred and thirteen, technically," he responded, forcing himself to grin.
The older man didn't miss a beat. "But weren't you trapped in an iceberg for a hundred of those years, Avatar?"
'If you know so much about me, then why are you asking all these questions?' Aang thought, not without a little bit of snark. He took a subtle, calming breath and nodded. "Yes, I was."
"So really, you're only thirteen," the other stressed. He stroked his modest beard; Aang couldn't help but feel as if the young man was preening, purposefully showing off his hairy manliness against Aang's facial bareness. 'I should really stop letting Sokka get to me,' Aang thought with annoyance. "That certainly is very young. I'm very, very impressed. You've already stopped a war a century old and become a successful Avatar. You must be proud of yourself." Then he glanced between Katara and Aang in a way that made the younger bristle. "And, forgive me if I seem prying, but are you two… romantically involved?"
Aang and Katara simultaneously stiffened. Katara shifted slightly and Aang, getting the hint, let his hand fall away and hang limp at his side. While it was no secret that they were involved with each other, they never actively announced it. Neither were comfortable with that and, Aang suspected, Katara wasn't ready for the publicity it would surely garner. They never kissed in public or showed any excess affection; they would simply just hold hands or hook their arms together when the need felt like it (mostly when Aang was acting as an escort, or when he and Katara were asked to greet someone together). So Aang was surprised when Katara flashed him an encouraging smile and responded softly, "Yeah, we are."
There was a moment of silence where Ji Yung simply stared and Aang's heart did somersaults and high jumps within his own ribcage. He felt his cheeks flushing and his previous anxieties melting away like they were butter; was it stupid of him to be this happy by what she said? He had the sudden urge to kiss her.
"So young…" Ji Yung murmured, and this immediately shattered the happy spell that Katara's words had weaved around Aang. He snapped to attention and couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the older man. Why did he keep repeating that? He was barely out of his teenage years himself! "You sure know what you want in life—the both of you."
"Yeah, we do," Aang snapped, suddenly feeling a spike of dislike for this guy. He felt Katara gently put a hand on his elbow.
Ji Yung lifted his hands in a placating manner. "I mean no disrespect. It's just…"—he gave a rueful smile that Aang didn't buy—"I, unfortunately, have experience in such things. I jumped into a relationship too soon, too young, and I thought I knew what I wanted, but it ended up just being an infatuation. The fantasy faded away eventually, even though I thought it would last forever."
"I assure you that this is nothing like that," Aang said tightly. "I'm sorry to hear about your own experience, but Katara and I are perfectly happy with each other." Who did this guy think he was, saying such things? He glanced at Katara and frowned at the guarded, reserved expression that she wore. She wasn't looking at him and, even though it was unreasonable to assume in the first place, he suddenly felt like she was avoiding his eyes. His heart skipped a beat again but this time for an unpleasant feeling.
Ji Yung bowed in apology. "I meant no offence, Avatar." He straightened and then inclined his head to the side. "Excuse me, but I think I need to get back to my friend." He smiled at the both of them charmingly. "If left unattended, he usually gets to all the food while most people are too preoccupied actually being social." With a good-natured laugh, he gave a small bow again. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Master Katara and Avatar Aang."
"Likewise," Aang lied and while the sight of his retreating back calmed his nerves somewhat, Aang's focus was on the eerily quiet Katara. He slowly touched her hand and intertwined their fingers, his eyes trying to connect with hers. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly, aware not to get too close in their public environment.
She snapped out of her daze and looked at him, flustered. "Oh! Fine!" She gave a reassuring squeeze to his fingers and smiled tentatively. Then her gaze was adverted to the side and she snorted softly. "I think someone's trying to get your attention," she drawled, quirking an eyebrow at something behind him.
"Huh?" Aang reluctantly tore his eyes away and, with a rather disparaging glare, he caught sight of the Earth Kingdom lord waving at him and trying to get his attention; for a nobleman, he seemed terribly ignorant of the party guests around him tutting at his behaviour. Aang turned his face away and Katara laughed at the entirely put-off expression that he didn't bother to hide from her. "Do I have to?" he whined. He would rather spend the rest of his time with Katara.
Said waterbender chortled with amusement and nudged him in the ribs lightly with her elbow. "Oh, stop it," she whispered conspiratorially. "If you keep that up, people might think you like me or something."
Aang stiffened and stared at her, mouth agape, disbelief written all over his features that she would even doubt—then his face flushed a flattering shade of red when he realised that she was just teasing him. "I, uh—"
It was taking Katara quite a lot of self-restraint not to just laugh at Aang's reaction; her fingers twitched slightly as the sudden urge to pinch his cheeks came over her. "Go on," she urged, nudging him towards the impatient nobleman. "It seems important."
The blush faded a little at Aang's quiet, derisive snort. "Right. Important." With a deep intake of air to fortify himself for the next few minutes of what he knew was going to be tedious dialogue, Aang let go of Katara's hand and started walking towards the nobleman. However, he paused slightly and gave Katara one last concerned look. "You sure you're okay?"
Katara lifted an eyebrow and put a hand on her hip. "Of course," she said curiously. "Why wouldn't I be?"
The last of the Avatar's anxieties fell away and he sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "Nothing!" he assured. He hastily turned around and headed towards the impatient Earth Kingdom lord. "Catch you later, Katara!"
'Everything's fine,' he thought, feeling ridiculous—again. 'I got worried for nothing. As usual.'
He was feeling much more placated when he talked to the nobleman again. He was able to focus more attentively on the matters at hand without his mind wandering to eager young men threatening to take his girlfriend away. As more time passed in the mellow humdrum of the party, the more relaxed he became and the more he came to realise that, once again, he had been acting foolish. There was no reason why he should be feeling threatened, or even jealous. He and Katara were more than fine and he wasn't about to let any outsiders disillusion him of that fact. He was in a relaxed and unassuming mood when he excused himself from the dining table (where the Earth King had eagerly delved into yet another one of his numerous adventure stories outside the Earth Kingdom capital) to go search for a bathroom. He allowed a soft, contented smile to himself when he spotted Katara chatting with a little girl near one of the tables, the child's mother looking utterly grateful that the waterbender had been able to stop the girl's sudden fit of tears. A swell of affectionate pride grew inside him and he was suddenly very eager for this party to end. Seeing Katara's smile from such a distance was too much for him and he yearned to be close to her.
'But first,' he thought, reluctantly tearing his eyes away, 'bathroom.'
He had just walked out of the bathroom doors after doing his business when he heard a quiet murmuring of people just around the corner of the hallway. Aang rolled his eyes, recognising gossip for what it was, and was about to turn the corner and hastily make his way back to the party when the mention of "the Avatar's girlfriend" stopped him in his tracks. He abruptly pulled himself back from just turning the corner and glued his back to the wall, suddenly keenly interested in what these people were saying.
"I pity her, really," one said. "It must be embarrassing for her."
An undignified snort. "I'll bet."
"Avatar or not, he's still just a kid—and he's tying her down." Aang narrowed his eyes at the sound of that voice. That was… Ji Yung. "He's probably more like a pet than a boyfriend. In any case, being in a relationship with him is probably… unsatisfying for her." There was a chorus of laughter. Aang felt an angry blush surface on his cheeks. 'What does that even mean?' he raged, his blood beginning to boil. He refused to acknowledge the hurt and the gnawing feeling of doubt that suddenly crept up on him. "She needs someone more her age. Not someone who follows her around like some sort of lovesick rabbitpuppy."
"Yeah," another rallied. "Someone who treats her like a woman."
"She's probably just taking pity on the Avatar—I mean, he did save the world and everything. He deserves to get the girl—for a little while anyway. That's how children's fairy tales go."
"Until she gets bored of babysitting and finally gets a real man," one laughed.
"Who? You? You're not exactly mister manly man!"
"Hey! Do you see this beard?"
"Oh, is that a beard? I thought you just forgot to shave in the morning!"
The group of friends laughed and moved to more mundane topics—which was a good thing too, because if they had continued with their line of conversation, Aang didn't know what he would have done. He was practically shaking, his hands balled into tight fists, feeling as if his head was about to explode with all the rapid-fire thoughts shooting in his mind. 'It's not true,' he told himself sharply. 'Don't take what they're saying to heart. They don't know me and Katara. They don't know what we're like.' There was an angry throbbing in his head and the intensity of the emotion was overwhelming. He had to remind himself that he was the Avatar, that he shouldn't be upset with gossip, and if he confronted these people in the middle of a party hosted by Earth Kingdom royalty, it was likely to end very, very badly. Typical airbender tactic was to avoid and evade, but Aang was also a firebender and he did not approve of what they were saying about him and Katara. If he didn't have such tight self-control, he would have confronted them before he began hearing their voices fade away as they left the hallway to return to the party. At least, that's what he told himself.
Truthfully, deep down, there was a doubt brewing and stirring inside him that rendered him unable to move his feet. He clutched at the cloth covering his chest as if he were in physical pain.
'It's not true,' he repeated to himself, narrowing his eyes at the wall across from him. 'They're just saying things like that because they're the ones jealous that they're not the one Katara loves. That's all.' He repeated that thought until his throbbing heart began to slow and calm down, and he let his hand fall to his side. His reasonable mind knew that was probably the truth but there was still a part of him that doubted. He bit his lip, straightened, and rounded the corner back to the party.
'Forget what they said,' he told himself calmly. 'Forget you heard anything. Their words don't mean anything because they're nothing but lies.'
He returned to the party with cheerful smiles and youthful enthusiasm, betraying nothing of the storm raging inside of him. If he sighted Ji Yung and his friends, and if they suddenly found their wine frozen in their goblets, and if they sporadically tripped on non-existent earth, and if they constantly shivered with the feeling of someone glaring at the back of their heads hot enough to singe them, he didn't give away anything to hint that he'd noticed. Even Ji Yung tripping on air and landing face-first in a plate of pudding right in front of the girl he was chatting up didn't make Aang bat an eyelash. He just continued on with this dreadful party, the tight feeling in his chest only growing whenever he avoided Katara and indeed, when he knew she noticed.
Aang was trying to unsuccessfully fall asleep when he heard the gentle rapping on his door. He immediately sat up, going from tense to high alert, and stared at the door suspiciously. It was late at night, the party well over. He airbended his way out of the bed, put on his pants, and approached the door warily.
The person knocked again. "Aang? Aang, are you awake?"
Aang recognised the voice immediately and bounded towards the door, opening it quickly. "Katara!" he said, surprised, forgetting his previous troubles in the face of this unsuspected turn of events. "What are you doing here? Is everything alright?"
Katara had her hands clasped behind her back now, avoiding his eyes. She was wearing a silk green nightgown, courtesy of the nobleman who had invited them to stay that night. Aang found himself avoiding looking directly at her too. "Everything's fine," she whispered, the softness of her voice still seeming loud in the crisp quiet of the night. "Y-You kind of left the party without saying anything to me… and I was worried that something was wrong. I didn't want to leave it to the morning, so…"
At the mention of the party—and consequently what had happened in that party—Aang's despondent mood came back and he felt his shoulders slumping. "There's nothing wrong," he murmured, turning his torso slightly to close the door. "Go back to sleep, Katara. Goodnight."
Her hand stopped the door from fully closing. "Wait! Aang!" She narrowed her eyes at him with both worry and irritation. "Were you really going to slam the door in my face like that when there's obviously something bothering you?"
"Katara, I'm fine!" Aang griped, narrowing his eyes at the floor. "Please. Just leave me alone."
There was a moment of tense silence and then Katara withdrew her hand. "Okay," she said quietly. "Right. I'm… I'll just go then." She crossed her arms but it seemed more like that she was hugging herself. She turned. "… Goodnight."
But when Aang finally looked up to see her retreating back, a panic erupted inside of him with an urgency he couldn't keep at bay. He ripped his door as wide as it could go and stepped towards her, crying out in a volume that was probably unnecessarily loud, "Katara, wait!" He really didn't like the sight of her walking away from him; it made him feel like he was being strangled, as if she was taking away the air he needed to breathe with every step she took. "I-I'm sorry. Please don't go." What was he even doing? His head was a mess; all he knew was that he didn't want Katara to leave him yet. He then acknowledged that he probably didn't want her to leave ever. His hand began to drop—when had he reached out to her?—but before it could fall limp at his side, it was suddenly snatched up between another set of soft, familiar hands.
Katara was right in front of him and why—why was he suddenly so aware of her proximity? He could smell the soap she'd used when she'd taken a bath earlier today: an earthy mix of pine and rose, made heady with the scent of lilies. The hands that held his were so gentle and soft, as if they've never encountered work or hardship, which Aang knew was a lie. There was strength in her grip, firm yet soothing; the young Avatar could feel his heart hammering like a drum against his ribcage as he stared into equally fierce yet tender blue eyes. "Talk to me, Aang," she whispered imploringly, trying to express through her gaze her concern and her desire to help however she could. She gently squeezed his hand. "What do you need?"
'Need,' he repeated. There was a heavy lump in his throat and all he could do was stare at her with wide eyes. 'Why did she have to say that word specifically?'
He snapped out of it with a jolt, his fingers twitching inside her hands; he wondered if she noticed how sweaty his palm was becoming. With his heart threatening to burst with a feeling he was unable to identify, he gently began to pull her into his room. "… Come inside?" he breathed, not knowing what he was going to do at all; he was running on pure instinct and indulging in every one of his sporadic desires.
A brief moment of hesitation passed through Katara's eyes but it was quickly replaced by undeniable trust. She smiled at him and nodded, letting herself be pulled into his room, ignoring the way her heart seemed to skip a beat when Aang closed the door behind her. His room was dark, only a silver of moonlight passing through the curtains, and while Katara was usually at complete ease with Aang, something about him tonight was different—edgy. Unpredictable. The darkness obscured his features, hid his full expression, and Katara had to remind herself that this was just Aang. She was safe with him.
"It's dark in here," she said, trying to keep her voice light despite the fact that her words had pierced the silence like glass shattering on stone. "Want to light a candle, oh mighty Avatar?" She tried to project her voice as teasing but it came out more like a release of breath. She felt her face flush when Aang didn't respond to her words; he only continued to stare at her. She was still slightly taller than him, she mused offhandedly—he'd grown quite a bit in the past year, but he was still a few centimetres sho—then, without warning, she was suddenly tugged downwards and she landed on his bed with a yelp. Aang quickly sat beside her, clasping her hands tightly in his. Katara gave him a mock glare and remarked wryly, "If you wanted me to sit down, you could have just asked." She pointedly ignored the fact that they were now both seated on his bed, alone, at an ungodly hour of the night—at least, she tried to ignore it; her heart had other ideas and the flush in her face betrayed her thoughts.
"Sorry," Aang said, finally breaking his recent oath to silence. "I just don't like being reminded that I'm still shorter than you."
"Oh, stop worrying about that, Aang! You're still a growing boy and before we both know it, you'll be—mmph!" She couldn't complete her reprimand because Aang suddenly saw it fit to shut her up with a kiss (what was with him and kissing her when she least expected it?). Katara was thrown into a sense of déja vu; his kiss was pressing, urgent, desperate—his lips moulded against hers with a pressure that made her heart tremble. Her eyes fluttered closed and she gently returned the kiss, immediately noticing how Aang relaxed, as if his previous tenseness was due to an uncertainty that she wouldn't kiss him back. He shifted closer to her, their thighs pressed against each other, and slowly crept his hand up her arm to grip her shoulder while the other intertwined their fingers together. Katara's heart fluttered with the intimacy of the kiss and she squeezed his fingers in encouragement.
Then his tongue darted out to trace her bottom lip, and her eyes snapped open. She pulled back with a gasp, her face flushing crimson. He'd never done that before! "A-Aang, what—"
"S-Sorry, Katara, I just—I mean—" Aang's face was flushed as well but his eyes were shadowed, darkened with emotion rather than just the natural lighting. He followed Katara's movements as she shuffled back, grabbing desperately at her shoulders to keep her in place—to keep her close. "Can we—I just want—" And then his lips were on hers again and instead of being chaste, he tentatively opened his mouth and ran his tongue across the soft flesh of her lips. Katara squeezed her eyes shut, her face burning and her lips firmly closed. It—he was suddenly too overwhelming, his touch like fire dancing across every point of contact against her skin. As he moved against her, it felt like her ribcage was shrinking, and before she knew it she was suddenly depleted of oxygen and she had to breathe—she needed to suck in some air or else she'd faint from sheer light-headedness—and she gasped unwittingly, allowing Aang's eager tongue to clumsily slip inside of her. Katara's hands found Aang's bare back and she simply clutched him.
The sensation of her tongue shifting against his made his whole body tremble—and not just slightly. It was like an earthquake originating from their mouths; as their tongues moved sporadically against each other, the vibrations spread and amplified into a wild, uncontrollable tremor that reached every point of his body and made his toes curl. He could feel his face inflaming as if he was being engulfed in fire but he didn't dare back away. Instead, he pressed himself closer, mapping out the insides of Katara's mouth and tenderly, curiously, massaging the wet organ that tentatively danced with his own. He felt Katara shiver against him, heard the small whimper she released, and instinctively angled his head to the side to delve his tongue in deeper. Her answering moan was simultaneous to the digging of her nails into his skin, both sensations so devilishly good that Aang felt like he was going to lose his mind.
He pulled back finally to let them both regain their breaths. In the limited light, Aang was able to make out Katara's flushed face, and the sight of her nearly throttled him. The air was heavy with their heady pants and they were oblivious to the coolness of the night air. Katara was looking at him with an expression of wonder and… of something else. "Katara," Aang whispered, leaning towards her again, his body energised and heated in a way that he'd never felt before.
"Aang, w-wait," she said, shaking her head from the electrified haze his kiss had given her. She gently put her hands on his chest, blushing violently when her palms touched his bare skin. "Why—I mean, not that I didn't e-enjoy it"—her face was burning—"but are you—I mean, are we—there's no need to rush—"
"I'm not a kid," he murmured, his half-lidded eyes flashing with fierce intensity. Determination was coursing through his veins, along with that feeling he finally identified as this crippling type of desire. "I'm ready."
Katara gaped at him. She wondered if her face could get any redder than it already was. "I-I don't think you know what you're saying—"
"I do," he said firmly, his voice expressing more conviction than he actually had. In all actuality, he didn't know where this was going at all—he just wanted to keep touching her. Her eyes widened in response to his words, doubting and nervous and concerned, which wasn't what Aang wanted to see. He wanted to see that look again—that completely undone look she was wearing before, the one that beckoned more. Desperate to see her like that again, he moved forward to kiss her.
But Katara saw the move this time and she hastily turned her head; his lips landed on the underside of her jaw instead, startling a gasp out of them both at the foreign sensation. Instead of pulling away however, Aang decided that this error in aim was to be the starting point for his new explorations and he began to litter kisses under her jaw and across her neck. The Avatar tightened his grip on her shoulders and shifted his legs so that he was nearly straddling her; then, with another yelp, Katara found herself on her back, stuck between the soft cushion of the mattress and Aang's half-naked body. She closed her eyes shut as Aang tentatively kissed her neck and her collarbone, unable to do anything but hold onto his shoulders—still slim, but broader than she remembered—and become pliable to his gentle touch.
She was just as new to this as he probably was; she'd never been touched like this before by anyone. At her soft mewling, he became bold and began to trace her sides with his fingers, suddenly annoyed with the fact that her nightgown was keeping him from touching her bare skin. The thought of undressing Katara made his heart thump painfully in his chest. With urgency, he lifted his head from her neck and claimed Katara's lips, meeting no resistance this time as she eagerly opened her mouth to meet him. The noises she made and the way her hands scratched at his back was driving him crazy; her scent was everywhere, her heat was everywhere, and the way she unconsciously arched against him caused an unfamiliar tightness to manifest in his groin. Aang was keenly aware of how his blood seemed to be rushing to one place in particular.
Suddenly, he was frightened. There was something strange happening to his body, something new and intense, and he was scared that the growing hardness in his pants was something unnatural and disgusting. But when he pulled back to convey his fears to Katara, all he saw was her flushed face against the mattress, her eyes closed and her lips swollen red. The sight was undoing him—he didn't know what he wanted anymore—and he groaned desperately, "K-Katara, please."
Katara slowly opened her eyes at his tone of voice and immediately recognised the fearful uncertainty shining in the Avatar's gaze. She stiffened, which made Aang stiffen, and after a beat that felt like an eternity, she slowly reached up and cupped his cheek. "It's okay," she whispered. "Don't be scared." She gave him such an understanding smile that it nearly broke his heart. "We're too young to be doing this kind of thing anyway—I let it go too far. I'm sorry. Come on, let me—"
"No!" Aang protested, keeping her down when she tried to sit up. "I want this; I want this," he told her, on the verge of panicking. It was the truth: if she left now, if she moved away from him, if he couldn't touch her anymore, it would break him. "Just—please—don't push me away."
"Aang—" Then she gasped, her eyes widening when Aang shifted and a noticeable bulge brushed against her hip. She looked up at him, at the desperate desire in his eyes, the lust, and despite all his confusion and fear, there was adoration there, a sincere yet selfish yearning.
He bent his head and whispered coarsely into her ear, "Katara…"
And when his hot breath caressed her ear and his hip gently moved against hers again, she let out an unbidden moan and rolled her hips upwards in response. Horrified at her action, she stilled. When Aang tensed and pulled back, she was met with dark grey eyes that she could no longer read. It made her heartbeat quicken and her mouth turn dry. He didn't look like a kid anymore.
"Katara," he murmured again, leaning down and capturing her lips once more in a kiss. But this time, instead of it being urgent, it was slow and careful and full, his tongue lazily filling up her mouth and easily engulfing her. She felt him wedge one of his legs in between her own, his thigh unintentionally rubbing against her through her nightgown. She let out a moan in the kiss, Aang swallowing the sound greedily. He released her mouth and kissed her jaw, his teeth gently scraping against her skin. Carefully, slowly, he began to rock his hips against hers.
Katara squeezed her eyes shut. "A-Ah…"
"Is this okay?" Aang murmured, nibbling at her jaw. He pressed himself more heavily against her, increasing the friction; his bare chest was rubbing against hers and teasing the hardened nubs there. Aang caught the bottom of Katara's ear in between his teeth and began to gently suck.
"A-Aang!" Katara cried, wrapping her arms around his torso. "T-That… A-Ah… That feels…"—her breath hitched—"really good…" At the back of her mind, she knew they shouldn't be doing this. They were too young for this kind of intimacy—she was too young for this. She was still one year away from marrying age, and yet… yet they were… and Aang was… A moan ripped itself from her mouth when Aang pushed them higher onto his bed and simultaneously positioned himself so that he was now in between her legs. The new position of his weight against her and the cushion of the mattress all around her was overwhelming, filling her with a guilty kind of thrill and nerve-wracking adrenaline. The room was full with their heavy breathing; Katara was just able to see the steam from their breaths mixing with each other's just before Aang captured her lips again. Aang intertwined his fingers in her hair while she simply kept a hold of his shoulders as if her life depended on it, drawing him nearer and unconsciously lifting her legs to wrap around his hips.
Aang was running on pure, mindless instinct when he suddenly jerked his hips forward and the torturous hardness of his cock brushed against Katara through the fabric of their clothes. They both released a startled gasp and Aang pulled back. His wide eyes met with an equally wide set of blue ones and both Katara and Aang became completely still. There was a heartbeat of silence where Aang was suddenly fully aware of his trembling limbs and his heavy pants and Katara's messy hair and swollen lips. He opened his mouth to say something—anything —but his throat was completely dry.
Then Katara cupped his face between both her hands and smiled at him softly. "I'm not ready, Aang…" she said, but there was curiosity and desire in her eyes that belied her words. "I'm not ready… I'm—we're too young… but…"—she leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips—"I can't bear the thought of you stopping right now," she confessed in a breathless voice, tickling his skin. Her legs tightened around his hips. "Please… I don't want you… to stop touching me." She rolled her hips upwards, moaning softly when his hardness rubbed against her clit, their clothes intensifying the friction between them. "A-Aang… I want you…"
And Aang was undone. He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her passionately like she was the very air he needed to breathe, and simply rocked against her in a lazy, languid motion, kneading his body to mould against hers. Every time he pulled back and slid against her, their clothed sexes would rub against each other, a tantalising tease but feeling so sinfully good. Aang detached himself from Katara's mouth and instead licked and bit at her neck, kissing it with the same ferocity of how he'd kissed her mouth, eliciting a staggered moan from her. Katara squeezed her eyes shut, blind to everything but the sensations he gave her, her warm breaths tickling his ear and her whispered words of adoration filling his soul.
"A-Ah… Aang…" The knowledge of just what exactly was rubbing against her made her delirious with joy and lust—the knowledge that she had done this to him was heady and seductive. She was so wet, the fabric of her underwear sticking and rubbing against her torturously, and the feel of Aang's hardness rhythmically poking and prodding at her entrance was driving her wild. Her nails dug into his skin, traced the line of his tattoo on his back, and she felt him shiver in response to her actions. He quickened his pace, unknowingly rubbing her clit in an almost punishing rhythm. "Aah! Nngh—Aang, I—ah!"
There was a tightness that was growing in both their groins, driving Aang nearly mad with the urgency of it. He pressed most of his weight onto the girl beneath him, trapping her there as he set the nearly brutal pace, revelling in such new and pleasurable sensations that made his toes curl. Katara was clutching at his back desperately, trying to anchor herself, and Aang responded by sucking fiercely on her neck, immensely enjoying the sounds that escaped her mouth at his roughened touch.
"Aang, I can't—I feel like—I'm going to—!" The desperation and shrill panic in her voice spiked a sudden curiosity in him and he pulled his head back to look at her. The move caused his actions to slow and he was baffled by the sudden, ferocious glare that Katara was now sending his way. She rolled her hips upwards urgently and hissed, "D-Don't—Keep going—I need to feel you there—p-please!"
He didn't know what suddenly came over him, but Aang had trusted his instincts this far and he wasn't about to stop listening now—he bent forward, ceased her pleads with his mouth, and reached down with a hand to tentatively cup her between her legs.
She immediately bucked against him, her cry muffled by his kiss—"Mmpphh!"—and Aang marvelled at the wetness that was seeping through her undergarments. With natural curiosity, he rubbed and prodded her with his fingers, completely fascinated with the warm moisture and utterly ignorant of what he was doing to her.
Then his thumb brushed roughly against her clit while his other fingers pressed unknowingly against her entrance, and Katara tore her lips away from him and cried out in earth-shattering ecstasy. She squeezed her eyes shut as she was suddenly blinded by bright, white lights, her legs clamping around him in a vicious grip to retain her sanity as her first orgasm ripped through her. She buried her face in the crook of Aang's neck and shoulder, holding him tightly as she shook and become completely undone, her release more like the bursting of a dam that provoked waves and waves and waves of debilitating pleasure inside her body. She cried out and moaned, nails digging into skin, the waves of sensations seeming to go on forever until the intensity actually began to fade and she fell back onto the bed with a shuddering gasp, breathless and disorientated and complete. She clutched blindly at Aang, held him close, and kissed him fiercely, letting herself be clutched and tightly held when Aang's own orgasm overwhelmed him. He pressed himself roughly against Katara's throbbing entrance and simply let go, shaking and groaning and being completely undone, feeling his pants getting wet as spurt after spurt of his essence was released into the cloth and not caring one bit at all.
After what seemed like a lifetime, Aang pulled himself off of her and rolled to the side, keeping her close as his arms remained wrapped around her. As the mind-blowing pleasure began to fade, as their heavy breaths began to calm down and the galloping rate of their hearts began to ease, Aang realised how sticky of sweat he was and how soiled his pants really were and couldn't help the bubble of laughter that escaped his lips.
Katara startled at his laugh but soon joined him—the Avatar's laugh was one of the more infectious things about him.
"Oh gosh," Aang whispered, grimacing when he shifted his legs and felt the stickiness there. "What did we just do?"
Katara was looking at him with a wry look but her deadpan expression was ruined by the happiness that shone in her eyes and the blush that kissed her cheeks. "You tell me. I… I honestly don't know what that was." She shuffled closer and kissed Aang's nose. "But it felt nice," she conceded with a bashful whisper.
The concession made both of them turn crimson. In order to hide his face from her, he pulled her closer, releasing a small whine against her neck. "I'm so embarrassed. I-I'm sorry, Katara—I don't know what came over me…"
In a euphoric mood that was probably caused by their earlier activities, all Katara could do was giggle. His breath was tickling her. "Well—you do have a tendency for moving fast, or getting into things earlier than most people. Let's see," she pondered, a teasing lilt to her voice. "You discovered you were the Avatar four years before you were meant to… You pretty much mastered all four elements in a matter of months, when it's supposed to take you years… And you had your first girlfriend when you were twelve. All things considered, this shouldn't be too surprising."
Aang wondered if she could feel his face catching on fire. She probably could. But he still pulled back slightly to look at her in the eyes. "So… I'm not too young?"
"We're both too young, you idiot," she laughed, slapping him gently on his arm. "You were too young to do any of those things. But honestly…"—it was Katara's turn to feel like her face was on fire—"… I don't mind."
At Aang's wide, bashful grin, she shook her head furiously and resisted the urge to slap him again. "Don't," she scolded. "It was wrong of me to let it go this far. We have to be careful, Aang, otherwise it really might go too…" She shook her head again and refocused her thoughts to something else. "What got into you?" she asked instead, flustered and hot.
Aang's face was still burning too and he ducked his head to avoid her eyes again. But he was smiling; he was smiling so widely that his cheeks hurt. "I was being an idiot," he simply said.
"What do you mean?"
"I… I was bothered by something someone said at the party. It got me really angry and frustrated and I just… wanted to make you happy."
There was a moment of silence, and then Katara sighed, figuring it out in a matter of seconds. She wasn't Aang's best friend for nothing. "Yup. You're an idiot. I was already happy, Aang."
Aang grinned and lightly pecked her collarbone. "I love you."
"And I love you." Katara returned a kiss on his temple. "Now let's both get cleaned up and you can escort me back to my room."
"Why don't you just…"
"If I stay and someone finds out, then no doubt Sokka is going to find out, and do you really want that to happen?"
Aang grimaced and pulled away. "No. I'm too young to die."
Their eyes met.
And they laughed.