
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8184.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Avatar:_The_Last_Airbender
  Relationship:
      Jet/Zuko, Jet/Katara
  Character:
      Jet, Zuko, Katara
  Stats:
      Published: 2008-02-18 Words: 2141
****** Neural Net ******
by Vector
Summary
     Takes place in an alternate version of 2x17, "Lake Laogai." In this
     continuity, the tea cart at the station had their jasmine tea at at
     acceptable temperature.
"Get some sleep, everyone. We take the train out of the city first thing in the
morning."
"Great," Jet said, leaning against the doorframe, and they all turned to look
at him.
"Remind me again why you're even here?" Katara asked exasperatedly.
"I want to help you guys find Appa," Jet said for possibly the tenth time
today, sounding just as earnest as the first.
"That's still not an answer!" Katara snapped.
"Katara, we're walking all the way to Whaletail Island. An extra pair of hands
couldn't hurt. What could he do?" Sokka tried carefully.
Katara just fumed, and Sokka and Aang exchanged a glance.
"He does seem to want to help us, Katara. And Toph says he's sincere," Aang
offered. Toph made an affirmative noise from her slouch against the wall.
"Ugh! You're all being stupid," Katara yelled, and stormed past Jet and and out
of the room.
The silence held for a moment awkwardly.
When no one made a move, Jet sighed. "I'll go talk to her."
***
Jet found her out behind the house, standing in the shadow of a nearby
building. She dropped into a stance at his approach, but when she saw who he
was she just glared and stood back up.
"I don't have anything to say to you, Jet."
"Come on, Katara," Jet tried, hands spread. "I thought we could have been
close. You're acting like a jilted lover."
All of a sudden Katara was away from the wall and in his face.
"I am not acting like you jilted me," she yelled, one finger digging a hole in
his chest, the other worryingly close to her bending water jug. "I am acting
like the last time we met you tried to drown a village full of innocent people.
I am acting like that because, as I recall, you did. So forgive me if I'm less
immediately trusting this time."
Jet flinched, but his response came easily. "I'm different now, Katara. I've
just been living peacefully in the city. And I want to help you—I want to join
you."
"I want you as part of my crew," Jet heard himself saying. "Think of what we
could do together."
"I've told you, no. You really don't want my help." The other boy said, and
even though this must be Jet's memory he doesn't recognize the voice. "Don't
ask me again, or I willmake you sorry."
Then the boy turned his head—and damn, what a scar...

"You keep saying that," Katara growled, and Jet blinked a few times before he
could focus. "But I've seen no evidence—"
Some impulse moved Jet forward. Then he was kissing Katara.
She made a muffled noise and stumbled back, raising a hand to her mouth.
"What do you think you're—"
"I was confused back then," Jet interrupted. "I—I lost sight of my real goals."
Something shifted, and his words flowed again. "And my goals weren't right to
begin with. It's better here, in the city. I can live a quiet life." He rose
his eyes to Katara's which were still wide with surprise. "I can work for the
things I really want."
"Jet," Katara started, and for the first time today her voice had lost some of
its edge.
"Please," Jet said, and extended a hand toward her.
Katara's eyes narrowed, and for a moment Jet thought he'd lose his arm. But
after a yawning pause, she reached out and clasped his hand.
Jet gripped back and smiled.
But—something was off. This wasn't how he did things.
Instinctively, he stepped closer, using his grip to pull Katara in so he could
kiss her again, harder, deeper. He released his grip on her hand to settle his
hands solidly at her waist.
It was a few seconds of mindless bliss. Then an impact sent him reeling
backwards and his hands were suddenly encased together in a solid block of ice.
"Katara," he found himself saying gently.
"Jet," Katara bit out, "just because—" But she was flushed, her voice shaky,
and—
The boy with the burn scar had Jet against an alley wall, matched swords held a
hair's breadth from his throat.
"Why are you so interested in me?" The boy rasped. "You don't know anything
about me. You shouldn't be so—" and there he broke off.
It was easy to tell why. He had been pressing closer, pinning Jet against the
stone in his anger—although his swords remained steady, and Jet didn't think he
would reallyhurt him.
But he could only get so close before it became impossible to miss that Jet was
hard against his thigh.
Jet refocused on the sound of harsh breaths falling in sync for a few
moments—both his and Katara's, he realized.
He tried to flex his fingers, but they wouldn't move in the slightest. He could
probably manage to break the ice against something, but then this would really
be a fight. Besides—maybe it was better this way. The ice didn't feel cold,
just solid. There were still things he could do, and it might be easier to
convince Katara he was sincere if he didn't try to take the upper hand.
"What do you want, Jet?" Katara asked evenly, the anger mostly gone from her
voice.
The words "I just want to help you," were on the tip of his tongue again, but
this time something overrode them.
"You," he said instead, and Katara's eyes narrowed. "I want to do good things
for you," he amended quickly. "Ah—and your team. But mostly you," he admitted.
"What I tried to do was terrible. I know that now. And I'm glad you stopped me.
And I—I really like you, Katara."
Some part of him complained that this wasn't how this was supposed to go—it was
too ignoble, awkward, dirty—and that was bizarre, because wasn't that how he
worked? Maybe the city really was changing him.
"Let me show you." His voice came out half-choked.
"I'm not releasing your hands," Katara said. "I still don't trust you."
But that wasn't no.
"How about," Jet said, taking a step toward her and then dropping to his knees,
letting the ice around his hands fall solidly against the cobbles. He looked up
at her. "Like this, then?"
He wasn't that close to her, really. There was no way she could feel his breath
across the space and through her clothes. But something made her react, her
face flushing visibly red and her mouth dropping open slightly.
The boy's mouth had dropped too as he backed off all at once, undamaged eye
wide.
"I—you—what?" the boy stuttered out, confusion making him look a lot different
than the anger of a few seconds ago.
Jet smirked, amused. "Come on, Li."—Was that the boy's name? Li?—"It has to
have crossed your mind."
From the look on his face it was clear it hadn't. "What do you want from me?"
he asked, slipping his swords back into their sheath.
"I want you to join my crew," Jet said. Then, at Li's look, "I wasn't lyingto
you. You're an amazing fighter. But I certainly wouldn't say no to other
things."
"Like?" Li asked, arms crossed.
Jet pushed aside several incredulous replies to that. Sounding condescending
probably wouldn't go over well. He could try something much better.
"Like getting our hands down each other's pants after a fight," Jet offered,
cock twitching as he said it aloud. "Or—" he took a moment to sort through
fantasies—"maybe you up against a wall, pants down as I suck you off."
Li stared at him in silence for a moment. Then—
"Alright," he said, and Jet boggled. "You—that second one. Here. Now." His
voice stuttered, then firmed on the command.
Jet suspected Li thought he was calling a bluff. Or maybe it was another
version of drawing swords to try to convince Jet to give up. That was fine with
Jet. It would be equally as counterproductive.
"Okay," a breathy voice said, and Jet had to blink for a moment before he
realized Katara was agreeing. "What..." She hit the word with confidence, but
then trailed off as if she didn't know what to ask.
"Get your clothes open for me," Jet said—and god, that was hot, and he could
hope for some reciprocation at the end of this but that wasn't really the
point. Hopefully she'd at least release his hands. "And then I'll—" his head
ached, and his mouth was suddenly dry, so he licked his lips. He suspected the
point got across, because Katara's breath caught.
"Right here?" She asked disbelievingly.
The thought that prompted "of course not, we can't do that, it would be
completely improper," was so out of place in his head that he ignored it
entirely.
"Yeah. No one's around," Jet said. "Unless you'd rather do this back inside
with your friends?"
Katara blushed furiously. "No. Alright." She reached to loosen her sash. Jet's
mouth went dry again.
She didn't remove more clothes than she had to, just lifted her tunic away and
undid the bindings below her waist until she could slide fabric down and bare
herself in a flash of skin and fine hair.
This might be easier if—Jet looked around quickly. "Sit up on that windowsill a
bit," he offered, and he shuffled forward between her legs as she did so. "Get
your legs spread and kind of over my shoulders."
It took a few awkward moments to get her hips aligned comfortably—it would have
been easier with his hands, of course, but the best he could do with them was
brace them and the ice against the wall for support—but eventually he settled
and breathed in the scent of her. He looked up and saw her watching him, face
and eyes hot.
He licked her once, slowly, and she made a strangled noise that might have
started out life as a yell. He heard a thud as she tossed her head back to hit
the window frame solidly.
He pulled away a moment. "All right?"
"Fine," she said challengingly.
Jet smiled. "You might want to be more quiet, if you can. Wouldn't want your
friends to come see—"
"Wouldn't want anyone to come see what's going on," Jat's own words echoed in
his head.
Li's face twisted like it hadn't occurred to him that maybe an alley in the
outer ring wasn't the safest place to be doing this.
"You could have mentioned that before," he bit out.
"Hey, you're the one who thought this sounded like such a great idea," Jet
retorted, and splayed his hands out on the bared skin of Li's hips, pressing
them back against the stone.
"I didn't," Li started, "—aagh." He gasped as Jet sealed his lips back around
his cock.
The image—memory?—lingered longer this time, and it almost started to bother
him—who was Li and why didn't he remember him?—but then he looked up to see
Katara glaring down at him, bits of hair falling loose from its knot, and he
just ached.
"Sorry," he managed, licked again between her folds, and set to sucking her off
in earnest.
She wasn't particularly quiet, but with how worked up she sounded already maybe
he could finish her quickly enough not to matter. In a matter of minutes her
hips were canting up involuntarily, and as she caught her breath on a gasp the
ice around his hands liquefied all at once.
He didn't think Katara had meant to do that, but he wasn't above using it
anyway. He brought one hand up, pressing the tips of two cool fingers into her,
sliding slickly—and then she was coming with a shout, muscles clenching, thighs
trembling, the water on the ground splashing upwards in defiance of gravity—
Li was quiet, now, but he squirmed, shifting against the wall, hands clenching
and unclenching as they sought for purchase on the stone, and sweat beaded on
his face and neck, dripping down to dampen his collar. Jet could tell when he
got close because he bit his lip hard enough to look like it hurt.
And then all the sweat on his face vanished into steam.
Jet's eyes widened, and his control slipped enough that he grazed tender flesh
with his teeth—
And then Li was coming, and it was all Jet could do to not choke as he tried to
think of a better explanation than what he'd thought instantly—but the lamps
out on the street were flaring up in sync.
Jet spat on the ground and caught a breath.
"You're—"
"He was a firebender," Jet said aloud, and Katara's unfocused eyes widened in
confusion.
Then the ache in his head turned into real pain.
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