This is it, friends: the final chapter.
You know, this story had a lot less sex in it than I thought it would. Too much angst, I guess.

The physical and emotional exhaustion from their journey made John and Sherlock drift off to sleep for a couple hours. After waking, John realized they had never actually slept together, but it made sense, because Sherlock could never stay long enough to relax. It was nice, though. Being wrapped around someone felt right and comfortable. John opened his eyes and saw Sherlock's curls in his face. No longer held down by the helmet or wet with sweat, his hair was fluffy like a dandelion. John's nose itched and he sniffed, getting his face out of the curls. Sherlock looked younger than he ever did right now, hair mussed and mouth open against the pillow, deep breaths passing his lips. John laughed quietly. Sherlock would hate to know he was like this, vulnerable and slightly snoring.

He brushed Sherlock's hair back and it was soft as silk.

Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed and he frowned, moaning in protest, burying his face into the pillow and trying to stay asleep. John really should have let him sleep; he had been Firebending for the majority of the day. But, he couldn't stop touching Sherlock after weeks and weeks of anxiety and tension. John moved his hand to Sherlock's broad shoulder, rubbing it, and running his hand down Sherlock's bicep.

Sherlock sighed and opened his eyes. His eyes were glassy and confused, and a small smile graced his lips. "John?"

"Yeah?"

Sherlock closed his eyes. "Just making sure you're real." His voice was deep from sleep and utterly sexy. John could have sworn he felt the rumble from Sherlock's throat vibrate on the pillow.

"Thought I was a dream?"

"Mmm, it's happened."

"You've dreamt of me?" John ran his hand down Sherlock's side.

"Mmmm," Sherlock hummed.

God, that fucking voice. John kissed his Adam's apple, grinning when Sherlock made an enquiring hum and it vibrated against his lips.

"You're gorgeous like this," John said, his own voice becoming husky. He licked his lips, feeling a little horny.

Sherlock opened his eyes, smiling softly. "You're not too bad, yourself," he gave a corny wink.

"You're such an idiot," John smacked his thigh lightly.

Sherlock's eyes darkened. "You're aroused."

"A bit, yeah," John admitted, smirking. "Plan on doing anything about it, or are you just gonna keep stating the obvious?"

Sherlock looked down at his leg. "I don't want to aggravate your wound."

John actually forgot about it for a minute. Molly was truly an excellent healer. No wonder the Fire Nation wanted her.

"We can do something as long as you don't jostle it too much," John said. "You can start by kissing me."

Sherlock did at once, his lips warm and insistent. His hand cupped John's cheek and his lips moved slowly, but deliberately. John kissed back and held Sherlock's hip, his thumb rubbing a circle in the material of Sherlock's uniform. Sherlock kissed John's bottom lip, sucking and pulling it lightly.

John felt himself get harder and pressed his body against Sherlock's, but moved his injured leg back so it didn't come into contact with Sherlock. He sucked Sherlock's top lip, nibbling it, and he felt Sherlock's responding moan in his bones. They rocked together until they reached full hardness, breathy moans muffled by their kisses.

"John," Sherlock whispered against his lips, "I have an idea."

"Yeah?" John opened his eyes.

Sherlock's pupils were blown wide, light irises nearly invisible. "I don't think Mycroft has any kind of oil to use as lubricant, so you can't fuck me yet-"

John coughed and sputtered. "I wasn't-"

"But we can do something else."

"I wasn't planning on fucking you," John said, his ears turning red. "Not until we have something to make it as painless as possible."

"I know, didn't I just say that?"

"Yeah," John said weakly, face hot from Sherlock talking about being fucked matter-of-factly. "So, erm, what do you have in mind?"

"Can we get naked first?"

"I thought you would never ask."

Sherlock stripped almost instantly, but it took John a little longer to work around his burn. Sherlock was hard, cock standing proudly, chest was flushed, and lips red from being kissed, nipped and sucked.

John had to attack his lips, biting and thrusting his hips against Sherlock's. He was delectable.

Sherlock broke this kiss, groaning at the touch of John's cock against his. "Ahh, John, John! I didn't tell you about the thing yet."

"The tell me about the thing," John smeared kisses along his collarbone.

"You can get behind me...John, you're distracting me."

"Interesting," John kissed one of his nipples.

Sherlock exhaled shakily. "You can get behind me," he repeated, "put your leg over my hip so it won't hurt, and...John!"

John stopped nibbling Sherlock's nipple. "Sorry. Continue."

Sherlock huffed half-heartedly. "As I was saying, you can, um, thrust between my thighs," he finished awkwardly.

But that sounded delightful to John. "Turn around, Sherlock," he commanded lowly.

Sherlock immediately flipped onto his other side.

John carefully swung his injured leg over Sherlock's hip and lined his hips up with Sherlock's pale, muscular thighs. John felt himself begin to leak in anticipation.

He wrapped his arms around Sherlock's torso and Sherlock lifted one of his thighs enough for John to slide himself through. His cock sliding between Sherlock's thighs made John groan. This was a very good idea.

"Come on, John," Sherlock growled.

John fucked himself between Sherlock's thighs, which would have been weird a few weeks ago, but the friction was perfect. Sherlock had known exactly what he needed. He bit Sherlock's pale shoulder and didn't realize he was grunting with each thrust, feeling pleasure from root to tip of his prick, arousal like a hot pool in his groin.

He reached down and took Sherlock in hand, who threw his head back and groaned, and bucked his hips so his erection fucked John's hand.

They had a fast rhythm, the bedroom filled with John's grunts and Sherlock's moans, which were cut-off from his bitten bottom lip.

"Sherlock, let me hear you," John whispered into his ear. "We don't have to hide anymore. Let me hear you."

Sherlock let his mouth drop open and he moaned loudly, his dick slick in John's hand. The space in between Sherlock's thighs was now wet from John, and fuck, he wasn't going to last. One day, he would last longer than a teenage boy. But for now, he jerked off Sherlock and gave five more thrusts before his release was spilling between Sherlock's thighs. John muffled his long groan in the pillow, panting when the last spurt of come shot from his cock.

Sherlock was still fucking John's hand, now whimpering and desperate. "You can do it, Sherlock," John encouraged, still breathless and coming down from his high. He propped himself on his elbow to look at Sherlock's face, and he rubbed his thumb over the tip. "Come for me, Sherlock."

Sherlock gasped sharply, eyes shutting tightly and mouth dropping open into an O, and he came, hot and wet all over John's hand and on the sheets. John released him before he became oversensitive and he rolled on his back, his shoulder hurting.

Sherlock turned over and stared at John with glassy eyes, catching his breath. He was immaculate with messy hair and come between his thighs.

"I think," Sherlock said thickly, then cleared his throat. "I think Molly and Mycroft may have heard us."

The corner of John's mouth twitched up. "You think?"

Sherlock wriggled closed to John and put his head on his chest, kissing above his right nipple. "You enjoyed my suggestion?"

"Hell, yeah. Next time, I want you to try it." He wanted to witness Sherlock utterly lose control (more than usual).

Sherlock grinned. "Okay."

They lay in companionable silence, limbs loose and damp skin cooling.

"John?" Sherlock asked ten minutes later.

"Yes?"

His fingers played with John's blond chest hair. "You had a partner before the war."

"Yeah," John didn't deny it, but he felt uneasy. "Why?"

"You don't want her?"

John wouldn't ask how Sherlock knew she was female. "I don't," he said to the ceiling. "I don't and, I feel bad about it."

He felt Sherlock tense.

John wrapped his arm around Sherlock's shoulders. "Not bad enough to leave you, but, I think she expects me to come back. And I won't."

"Ever?"

"Besides her, I don't have anyone to go back to in the Earth Kingdom," he admitted. That was part of the reason why he joined the army; no one would really miss him besides her, and he didn't even know if she thought about him. "I don't want to go back to her, and I feel bad because I should," he confessed. The guilt he felt was strictly on moral grounds. He didn't miss her, and he felt like a bastard.

"I'm sure Mycroft could figure out what she's been doing," Sherlock said, looking up at him.

"Yeah?" That could relieve his guilt a little. "If he could, yeah. I just want to make sure she's okay."

"Consider it done."

Sherlock wrapped his arm around John's neck. "Mine," he said almost inaudibly.

John knew the thought of Mary upset Sherlock, or else he wouldn't have asked about her. But John couldn't be with anyone else now, even if he tried. He tightened his arm around Sherlock. "Mine."

Weeks passed by in Mycroft's home. Before long, Molly was fully able to heal John's leg. He felt like he could never repay her, but she only smiled and told him that their friendship was enough, and he owed her nothing, except:

"Just keep Sherlock occupied so he stops deducing every man I come into contact with," she said.

Sherlock and John kissed practically 24/7 and spooned every night, and their fucking turned into making love. John recognized this as the honeymoon phase, but it was still blissful.

Mycroft was annoyed by their sexual activities, sending them disgusted glares whenever he could. Molly was embarrassed by it, which wasn't surprising, since her room was right next to theirs. John and Sherlock didn't care enough to stop. In the night, they whispered sweet nothings into each other's ears and made confessions they were too afraid to voice in the daylight. It was Sherlock who whispered his love confession to John first, when John was inside him for the first time, and John only took seven seconds to say it back.

Even though they were technically in hiding, they had never been happier.

Mycroft did find out about Mary. She was fine. More than fine. She was, apparently, being taken care of by another man.

John was angry that she was having an affair while she thought he was away at war, but it made severing ties easier with her. He wrote her a letter bidding his cold goodbye. He told her that he was safe but kept the details hidden. He didn't want her to rat him out to the Earth King out of spite, which upon reflection, was something she would do. Being done with her only made John feel closer to Sherlock, no obstacles between them.

Two months of hiding ended when the Avatar defeated the Fire Lord. They all knew the war would end one way or another when Sozin's Comet arrived. Mycroft had told them about the Fire Lord's plan to use the comet's strength to aid his army in an attempt to completely take over the other nations. John hated that, hated the fucking Fire Lord and his plans, but breathed a huge sigh of relief when, the next day, word reached the world that he lost.

"I was right," Sherlock said smugly. "I knew the Avatar would defeat him."

"Do you have to make everything about yourself?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Absolutely," Sherlock sniffed.

It was nice to know love did not change Sherlock's haughtiness, and John thought that sincerely. He was still the same Sherlock he met at the Boiling Rock, just softer, more open, but he was there all along.

"How were you so sure?" Molly asked.

He gave her the you're-a-fool look he was so fond of, "He's master of the elements. How could he have lost?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "Okay, point taken."

Within the two months of living with Mycroft, John didn't see him genuinely smile until after the war. He wondered if Mycroft's icey attitude was largely an act, like Sherlock's.

Since they were no longer traitors, John and Sherlock went outside.

Once he stepped on the dirt, John realized he could finally Earthbend. He couldn't wait anymore. Right outside of the house, John stomped his right foot and brought his fists together, bringing up a large stone wall, and punched the air, sending the rock crashing into a tree. The rock smashed into tiny pieces with a crunch.

John took a deep breath and released it slowly. That felt good.

Sherlock was smiling at him. "Feel like yourself again?"

"Yeah, actually," John brought rocks up from the ground and rotated his fingers, having the rocks hover in a circle above his hand. He flicked his index finger against his thumb and flung a little rock at Sherlock.

"Hey!" Sherlock deflected the rock.

John snorted. "Sorry, princess. I forgot you're such a delicate flower."

Sherlock's lower lip protruded in a full pout. "You're mocking me."

"I adore you," John said easily, feeling light and happy.

Sherlock blushed, as he always did when John complimented him.

John looked around the Fire Nation capital. He could go anywhere in the city. "Sherlock, can we take a walk?"

"Anything you'd like, John." He held out his hand.

They walked, hands clasped together tightly, with nowhere to go, just taking in the city, the feeling of freedom from the war and the weight that was on their relationship for all that time. Sherlock had evidently grown up in the city, because every so often they would pass by an area and Sherlock would tell John a story from when he was a child. He spoke enthusiastically, eyes lit up and sparkling in the sun.

John decided that Sherlock must have been an adorable child.

When the sun set they walked back to the house. They were in the bedroom when Sherlock whined, "But there's so much I still have to show you!"

A thought occurred to John that, if he had been alone, would have made him tear up. He hugged Sherlock, hiding his face in his neck. "You'll have a long time to show me, won't you?" he asked softly.

Sherlock hugged him back, resting his cheek on top of John's head. "We will," he agreed. "You're right, John. We will."

John kissed Sherlock on the lips, not breaking the hug, and they kissed and held each other for a long time because they could. They could kiss as long as they liked. They could spend an entire two weeks hugging, if they really wanted to. They did have a long time.

They had the rest of their lives.

Thank you SO MUCH for reading this weird AU! This was pretty hard to write for me because these two universes don't have much in common. Like I said in the first chapter, my friend had the idea.

I was super surprised to hear some of you haven't actually watched "Avatar: The Last Airbender." I HIGHLY recommend it. I don't do this universe justice. The show is one of the best I've ever seen. Seriously.

Thank you again :)