Sokka & Zuko's Awkward Amusing Adventures

BY : TantraTantrum
Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Slash - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 859
Disclaimer: I don't own ATLA. With any luck, I will spawn a fan animation or two, and that's it. No money earned with this story, but other things 85% my own, loosely based on fandom, I'm banking on it. Yes that was a pun.

The older firebender began to slide his fingers in and out.

“H-hey,” Sokka said, voice shaking, “Zuko w- warmed up his hands . . . is that a good idea here, or no?”

Iroh shook his head. “I don’t think so. Some people do, but . . . Even with the lambskin, I don’t want to risk it.”

“A-alright,” Sokka closed his eyes again.

The Water Tribe boy took his former advice, and expanded his lungs all the way, then let out the air slowly.

His rim loosened slightly around the lambskin.

“That’s right,” the bearded firebender purred. “Now, I want you to do that each time I go in, and then inhale when I come back, all right?”

“Will do.”

He pressed forwards again, lube now completely coating Sokka all the way around his sensitive sphincter.

The boy’s bare chest lowered, as if the man were pushing out the breath itself with his hand’s advance.

Then he retracted, and Sokka’s diaphragm pulled air back down from his head, like a syringe.

The next time he pushed, Sokka twitched, his breath sputtered, and he suddenly pulled air in again, before he could help himself.

“O-o-oopss,” he slurred. “Sorry.”

“That’s all right. It’s hard to get into the swing of it.”

He gave the boy a moment to regain his control and even out his breath.

The wise old man said, “It is like the push and pull of the tides, young one. You’ve seen your sister and the Avatar synchronize their breathing with the water, right?”

Sokka nodded.

“Think of that.”

“Does that make you the moon, and me the water,” Sokka joked, putting a hand on his own shaft and fingering it a little, “Or are you the water, washing over me? And I’m just the beach sand in its wake?”

“Either way you want to see it,” Iroh chuckled. He looked at the boy’s hand. “Are you getting uncomfortable? Do you want to go ahead and finish yourself? We can resume at any time.”

“Uh . . . not sure,” he rubbed himself gently down to his base.

“Well, I have all the patience you could ever need,” the grayed man returned. “There is no rush.”

“Mmmff, I was really enjoying that,” he wiggled, and he tightened down over him again, undoing their progress but liking the slippery feel of “gripping” the fingers anyway. “So conflicted here.”

“Ha.”

There was no suspense, just warm amusement.



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