To Make a Broken Bird Sing

Tarrlok/Tahno

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: Light Bondage, Bloodbending, Graphic shower sexy times

. . .

Tarrlok liked pretty things, and broken things, and needy things.

He liked stray fox-kittens that had been kicked too many times. He liked mantis-mlies with bent wings. He liked croc-kois with tattered fins. There was something appealing about that fragile damaged beauty, all the shattered ego, all the hopeless yearning for former glory returned. Those things made it so easy for Tarrlok to scoop them up and pet their battered self worth and make them so loyal, so needy for his praise, so desperate for attention.

Knowing all that, how could he resist Tahno?

Who else in the whole half-rotten glittering city knew what it was like to rise to the top, be stripped bare, and thrown in a sewer? Who else had been brimming with so much talent, only to be made a blind man? How could he resist from sliding up next to him at the bar, ordering a drink, watching the young man blink back the amazement that someone way paying attention to him? Like they used to. When he was a star.

How could he resist taking the young man home, pouring him another drink, bending the ice into the glass, and watching that longing spread across his face? That ache to be able to bend again. The pain of the loss.

How could he resist lathering the young man with praise, biting his too-pale skin until there were marks, pulling him into the shower and bending the water over the new bruises so that Tahno shivered and shuddered against him?

Know how much Tarrlok loved to play with broken pretty things, how could he resist making Tahno his?

He had big big plans for this city, but Tarrlok decided that he could indulge in one little pet project on the side. After all, all work and no play would make Tarrlok very dull indeed.

. . .

"Ah, Tahno. Of the Wolfbats, yes?" Tarrlok slid into a barstool, full of predatory grace. "Well, formerly of the Wolfbats, if I'm right."

The young man was hunched over the bar, shoulders bundled up close to him like a frightened miserable thing. Life without his bending, his fame, his fans was apparently a terrifying world for the young waterbender. Ex-waterbender anyway. Ripe for the plucking.

He looked over at Tarrlok, almost baffled by the attention. "That's me," he said. "...You...I know you. Some politician right? You worked with the Uh-vatar."

Tarrlok smirked. "Councilman Tarrlok. Allow me to buy you a drink. I'm such a big fan. Well," Tarrlok paused, letting Tahno take a moment to run his eyes over Tarrlok's expensive clothing that reeked of wealth. "I used to be back when you were a pro." He grinned wider as he watched the words hit Tahno like a blow.

"I don't need sympathy from an old man." Tahno looked away, glaring down at his hands.

Tarrlok laughed and placed his hand around Tahno's shoulder. He rubbed his thumb into the soft part of the man's shoulder. Tahno stiffened against the touch instantly, only to slowly relax again. "One drink. I insist." And predictably, Tahno couldn't resist.

. . .

Tahno being a former waterbender was important. Specifically the former part of that.

Oh Tahno being a waterbender in general was nice. A little slice of shared heritage, though with his pale skin Tarrlok suspected that there was more Foggy Swamp blood in the mix than Tahno would admit to. But Tahno being a former waterbender gave Tarrlok that extra little edge to be in control.

If Tahno were still a bender, all fame and fabulous glory, and Tarrlok had approached him, it would have been as equals. Where Tarrlok had experience and tact, money and sway, Tahno would have had his looks and his youth, his fame and his ego. It would have been a seduction of relative equals. Tahno could have made demands. Well, if Tarrlok wanted that, he could just go fuck around with Tenzin.

Tahno losing his bending was Tahno losing all his power, his fame, his pull. It made him dependent and needy and so, so ready for Tarrlok to play with. One drink became one dinner became one night over became, inevitably, a new little hobby for Tarrlok to indulge. A pretty pet bird that he could make sing for treats.

And could he deny that he enjoyed the way Tahno looked at him? The way Tahno would idly trace the muscles of Tarrlok's back was more than satisfying. Tahno was a bird who loved his new cage.

. . .

Tahno liked the classiest restaurants and the most expensive wine. He sat there, staring down every other guest in the room, waiting for someone to object to his hands curling around Tarrlok's arm as the waiter took their order. There was a smugness, though brittle and false, that Tahno wrapped around himself, so proud that someone as important as Tarrlok had him on arm.

"I think I'll take the Lobster-Eel," Tahno said smoothly, choosing, of course, the most expensive food on the menu. "And a bottle of Red. Something nice."

Tarrlok smirked, sliding his hand onto Tahno's upper thigh. "Just give me the same." He gave Tahno's leg a squeeze making him squirm under his touch.

The waiter said nothing, only walking away to put in the order. No one would say anything. No one would dare offend a councilman after all.

"This really is the life," Tahno said, flipping his hair behind his ear. He hadn't yet managed to make his hair as lush as it used to be since he could no longer use his bending to help style it, but he was doing his best to look good in public. Tarrlok approved. The prettier Tahno kept himself, the more fun he was to keep around. Slowly, the broken brittleness that had over taken Tahno when his bending was stolen was healing, or at the very least, Tahno was getting better at hiding it.

"You look as glorious as ever, Tahno," Tarrlok said, pouring on the praise that would keep Tahno placated.

. . .

Tahno was happy so long as he had Tarrlok's undivided attention. Any more than a few days without a fancy dinner and Tahno would be almost unbearably insolent and huffy until Tarrlok fucked him against a wall. Any attempt for Tarrlok to speak to any other even mildly attractive people in front of Tahno was met with flat out rudeness.

But then, Tarrlok rather enjoyed watching the hot red flush f jealousy creep up Tahno's neck, the desperate huffy possessiveness, the fear that he would be replaced. It was just another reminder that Tarrlok owned him now.

It didn't really matter that the Avatar was being difficult, or Tenzin was still a thorn in his side half the time, or that madman Amon was running around being a hazard in his city. At the end of every long, scheming day, he could draw the little former waterbender to bed and fuck him into the mattress. And really, that made everything just a little better.

. . .

After Tahno's shower lasted nearly an hour, Tarrlok decided he had to go in there and kick the brat out.

Letting his new pet indulge in some flickering memory of opulence was one thing, but an hour long shower was just absurd.

Tahno was standing in the shower, his muscles tight, his back turned to the door. The water ran in rivulets over his thin frame, over his how-are-you-even-a-water-bender-with-skin-this-light skin, over the new bite marks Tarrlok had left along his collarbone but hadn't healed yet.

"Tahno?" Tarrlok said as he walked over and popped open the shower door.

Tahno turned, his dark hair plastered against his head. His eyes rimmed with red. "….Right. My bad…." Tahno looked away and snorted, a raw little nerve. "Don't want to use up all your fancy pants hoity-toity money on long showers, right, councilman?" The sarcasm cloaked so much naked emotion.

Tarrlok's mood softened a little. "Trying to bend again." It wasn't a question. Of course Tahno was trying to bend again. Tarrlok couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose his bending, to close his eyes and NOT feel the flow and chi of water around him. Maybe there was another reason Tarrlok had picked Tahno, something deeper than the simple pragmatism of singling out an easy new toy. Sympathy may have played a role, and Tarrlok was man enough to admit that to himself.

Tarrlok pulled off his robe quickly and stepped into the shower. Tahno hadn't responded at all, whether in sympathetic shame, or the obnoxious self pity he was prone to. Tarrlok slid his hands over Tahno's shoulders, the rough dark pads of his fingers trailing over his skin. Down his shoulders, over his arms, until his hands gripped Tahno's thin little avian wrists. Tahno's back was pressed against Tarrlok's chest, the younger and slighter man fitting against him easily. Tarrlok's cock, half hardening, pressed against Tahno's ass as their bodies fit together in the steamy air.

Tarrlok slowly began to bend the water of the shower around them, manipulating the ebb and flow easily. He kept Tahno's hands in motion with his and for a moment it looked as though Tahno himself were bending again. Tarrlok could feel the younger man's muscles relax slightly. It was a dumb, silly trick, but Tahno seemed to take some comfort in it. An easy manipulation, just a little game to make Tahno all the more reliant on Tarrlok's attention.

Tarrlok slowly let his hands run up Tahno's arms. The water still rushing around them, the palms of his hands lingered on the tendons of Tahno's neck, over his shoulder blades, down his spine. Every inch of skin, every ridge and line of muscle was his to feel, to know, and to mark now.

Tarrlok tangled the rough pads of his fingers into Tahno's hair, gripping it until the younger man whimpered with pain and need. The noise sent a rush of satisfaction through Tarrlok. The feeling of ownership, of control, of taking a wild broken thing, and making it gasp out his name on moist pants of breath.

Tarrlok's other hand slipped down the arc of Tahno's spine, feeling the taut line of the boy's body until his fingers slid between his ass, pushing Tahno against the cold tiles of the shower wall. Even after an hour in the steamy air, the slick ceramic tiles had retained their cool temperature. Tahno's feet were pushed apart, his back arching slightly. A small dollop of shampoo on Tarrlok's finger helped him ease the digit slowly past the tight ringed muscles of Tahno's ass.

Tahno, his face, hands, and chest pressed against the chilly tiles, the hot water still running over his body, let out a sharp needy gasp as Tarrlok's finger entered him, slowly stretching him out. "T...Tarrlok..." His hands slipped against the tiles, searching for purchase as the pleasure began to lace through his blood.

Tarrlok quickly froze the water around Tahno's hands and feet, tethering him to the tiles with the ice. With the younger man now rooted in place, Tarrlok slowly slid a second finger inside him, stretching him further. Inch by inch, Tahno was unmade. Quivering and easing back against Tarrlok's fingers, he opened himself up for the older waterbender.

Tarrlok released Tahno's hair, sliding his hand down over Tahno's chest as he continued to stretch out Tahno's body. Tahno, his hands and feet still frozen in place, shivered and gasped against the contact. "T...Tarrlok..." he managed to pant again, his hair slick and plastered against his skin.

"That's right," Tarrlok growled in Tahno's ear as his hand slipped down to wrap around Tahno's cock. "Say my name." He ran his fingers slowly up and down Tahno's stiff cock. He pulled Tahno's foreskin back, running the pads of his fingers over the sensitive ridge in a slow rhythm, matching the pace of the fingers he had working Tahno's ass open.

"Oh, spirits...Tarrrlok.." Tahno's head was hung, his body shivering. "Please..."

"I do like the begging," Tarrlok laughed. In an instant the ice holding Tahno in place was gone, melting down the drain. Tarrlok spun Tahno around, lifting him up around his waist and holding him against the wall, legs spread. Tahno was feather light, pressed between the tile wall and Tarrlok's body with almost no effort. Tarrlok grinned wickedly. "You like it don't you? The way I bend? How the water listens to me?"

"Y..yes." Tahno shivered. Tarrlok's cock brushed against Tahno's ass, hinting, teasing.

"You'd say yes to anything I asked, wouldn't you?" Tarrlok leaned in, his teeth teasing along Tahno's lips as his fingers dug into his skin. There would be light bruises there for days unless Tarrlok healed them later. Maybe he would, maybe he'd let Tahno wear the marks like badges.

"Y-es. Yes." Tahno panted. In his state all smug confidence, any domineering entitlement, any self suffering pity was washed away by the pounding lust.

"Good boy," Tarrlok laughed. Tahno's eyes widened. Tarrlok, very slightly, began to bend the blood in his veins. Not enough to hurt, not really. Just pulling the blood away from Tahno's head a little, twisting his legs further apart with the bending. Enough to make Tahno dizzy, make him burn, make him feel his blood pulled through his body beyond control, even as Tarrlok's cock continued to grind against his ass.

"B...bloodbending..." Tahno gasped, his breathing even more labored. "But..h-how..."

"You can feel it can't you?" He ignored the question. "My bending. Inside you." Tarrlok growled the words into Tahno's ear. "You like it."

"P..please..."

Tarrlok pulled more of the blood away from Tahno's head and into his cock, making him nearly deliriously hard. The light-headedness made Tahno all the more fevered, lost in the sensations.

Tarrlok puled Tahno's hips down against him, burrowing his cock inside of him. Hard and fast he slid his cock into the man's body. The friction and the heat, Tahno's sudden gasping moans echoing against the shower tiles, the slap of flesh against flesh quickly filled Tarrlok's senses. Here was power, here was control, here was the friction of skin on skin, and the rush of a beating heart in his grasp.

Tarrlok held Tahno up with one strong arm, grasping Tahno's cock with his other hand. He stroked him off as he thrusted up into Tahno again, and again. Greedily he took his flesh, feeling Tahno's inner muscled squeezed against his own cock with hungry need.

It took almost no time for Tahno to reach his climax, spilling his seed all over Tarrlok's chest as the man continued to thrust into him. Tarrlok followed soon after, holding Tahno tightly as he pumped his semen into his body. They stood there like that, panting, covered in each others mess as the water turned cold around them for a long minutes before Tarrlok let Tahno slide back onto the tiles to clean himself up.

. . .

Tahno lay spread out on Tarrlok's bed covers, asleep and beautiful. Still naked and dripping wet from the shower, a thin line of semen that had been missed somehow by the water, was drying slowly on his inner thigh. Sleeping, Tahno looked more the way he used to, Tarrlok reflected. The tired, mournful lines around his eyes, the guilt. shame, and lostness he seemed to drown in was absent. He was young, and lean, his mouth open just slightly, his legs tangled hopelessly in Tarrlok's sheets.

Tarrlok had big, big plans for this city. He was burdened with glorious purpose and weighty ambition and nothing would stand in his way. But that didn't mean he couldn't indulge himself, and of all the toys in Republic City he could have picked, he was rather pleased with himself for picking Tahno.

. . .

/End

I'd like to take a moment to thank yall for reading this (rather ridiculous) fic. As always, though this has been proofread, no one is perfect. If you notice any typo or mistake, do let me know so I can fix it. :)

Reviews, comments, kudos, etc always make my day.