Confidential | By : kitana Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > General Views: 5015 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender is not mine. This work is not-for-profit. |
Title: Confidential
Author: Kitana
***
There are many things that Zuko values. Honor, loyalty. Strength, determination. But nearly above all else, Zuko values privacy.
The first few weeks after his exile, all he craved was the privacy to be alone with his thoughts. Iroh, naturally, didn't want this for him. There were months of frustration where Iroh wouldn't knock on his door and Zuko nearly burned his own room down with irritation. Now, thankfully, things are different.
When Zuko first steps inside of his room, he bolts the door. The latch slides closed easily and he exhales. These days, they're in a warm part of the world. Zuko's uniform clings to him from the humidity, pasting itself to the curve of his muscles. He peels each piece of his uniform away, revealing himself, freeing himself a little more.
Zuko should be used to the heat; he is the essence of it, anyway. Heat and fire, it's in his blood, what he's made of. He presses himself against the metal of his door, naked. It's cooler than him, but only by a few degrees. Still.
Sometimes, when he is absolutely certain there will be a stretch of time, of privacy, like now, Zuko goes slow. His fingers and palms are calloused, and his arms and legs and chest have fading battle scars, but there are parts of him that are still soft. Still sensitive. He touches those places first.
Zuko's skin is clammy, in the middle of drying from the dampness of sweat. He leans his head back against the door, touches the pads of his fingers to his throat. He swallows involuntarily and he can feel the bob of his Adam's apple. His lips part on a slow exhale when he brushes his fingers against his nipples. His cock responds instantly, throbbing, thick and full between his legs. Briefly, Zuko thinks he should retire to his bed so he can feign sleep, just in case – but he's rooted to his spot by the need and urgency he feels creeping up his spine.
He arches into his own hand when he finally grasps his cock. He clamps his mouth shut, biting down on his lower lip instead of breathing out. Zuko has learned before that he is often closely monitored and that the noises of pain and the noises of pleasure are often only different by a hairsbreadth. Zuko bites down harder, spreading his legs wide and giving himself ample room to cup his balls gently.
Each tug sends fresh little waves of desire through Zuko; it gets harder to control his breathing and he knows there is a fast and bright flush across his cheeks. Zuko knows that everyone will see his face and know how he spends his time. Not training (yet), not meditating (yet), but instead fisting his cock feverishly and thinking of all the different ways he can tease himself back to this peak later, when everyone's gone to bed.
It's that thought – the thought that his crew, even his uncle, will see his arousal written all over his face – that has him swallowing back a moan as he paints his fingers sticky white. A few trembling moments pass before Zuko has his breathing completely back to normal. He brings his hand up to his face and, one by one, he slides his sticky fingers into his mouth. His lips tingle, swollen and bitten red, as he pulls now-clean digits away.
He takes his time to dress.
The flush of his face is bound to give away what the state of his clothes will not.
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