Title: Fours a crowd

Pairing: Main: JetKo. Side Pairings: SokkaZuko ZhaoZuko and maybe HaruZuko? LOL SLUT.

Rating: PG

A/N: LOL. OH GOD. That's the last time I eat a whole cheesecake. Hurts my stomach to eat so much! Erk. Well anyway, this is just a random thing I started to write, I wanted to cheer myself up from my tummy emoings. Its low quality, but it makes me giggle. So, enjoy!

(If you haven't been able to tell by now: I adore Zuko. Kthnx.)

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A sweet smell wafted through the small, messy apartment Zuko had rented. Books, brushes and other various objects lay scattered and forgotten on the ground, covered in junk, plates and old fire nation projects. The owner of the home sat dead faced on the couch, his arms nestled under his chest and his feet lolling off the side, or to be more exact, off Jet's lap.

He sighed and wriggled on to his back, flipping a few useless papers with his feet in the process. "Are we drunk yet…?" He asked, wincing and hiccupping loudly between words.

Jet chuckled. "I 'unno, just keep on drinking…" He took his own advice and slurped messily at his drink, getting the majority of it on his shirt and pants—which happened to be endlessly amusing to a drunken Haru, who unfortunately, was the most sober of them all.

From the couch side Zhao smirked and sipped his own drink. "Can't handle some liquor, can we prince Zuko?" He questioned, ignoring the fact that Sokka was giggling madly behind him, completely and utterly drunk.

Zuko growled and sat up on the couch—or would have, had he not slipped back on to his side. "Yesh I can!" He pulled himself up once more and lunged for Zhao's bottle. "Just watch me!" He added proudly.

The Admiral let the bottle slip from his fingers and in to Zuko's awaiting hand. At receiving the bottle, Zuko tipped it over his mouth and caught the few gulps that were left in between his lips, his throat burning at the strong, overpowering taste.

He coughed and dropped the bottle, clutching his neck weakly in an attempt to soothe the burning sensation. "Ahh…" He licked his lips and removed all traces of the scorching alcohol. "What was that?"

"Sandbooker, 40 alcohol" the admiral answered simply, earning a wide eyed stare from Jet and a pointed look from a drunken Zuko. "I suggest you sit quietly for a little while."

Zuko groaned and failed his arms weakly. "Son…of…a bitch…" Of course it sounded more like 'sonvch' to everyone else in the room, but Zuko didn't seem to care. He simply slumped over the couch and continued to mutter profanities under his breath, his hands still attempting to grab and throttle the sly admiral.

"No need to use such language." Zhao seemed quite amused at this, and in one swift stroke he managed to pull Zuko from the couch and on to the ground. Jet attempted to help Zuko up, but unfortunately he was just as drunk and Sokka, and this merely resulted in him landing over Zuko's legs.

The freedom fighter sighed and pressed his forehead in to the ground as Zuko struggled out from underneath him. "Ya know what…I NEVER liked you" Zuko stumbled to his feet and swayed dangerously, hand shaking like that of an addicts as he pointed at Zhao, his expression jumbled between angry and pouting. "You such a jerk, Zaaooh, my father was a…" He hiccupped. "…dumdum to hire YOU."

Zhao simply raised an eyebrow. "I mean, sheeesh, you look like a monkey, and probably smell like one too" The prince laughed at his own joke (Which earnt a glance from Sokka, who was in the middle of stealing whatever sake bottles he could from the cabinets.) and pushed forward, his hands wrapping around the Admirals middle.

He gave a loud sniff and frowned, falling to his knees with his arms loosely wrapped around the Admiral's leg. "You smell like salt and smoke…and daddy's aftershave…" He murmured. "Me 'n' Jet…we smell like that…after…after he shows me how to make babies."

Finally snapping to life Jet let out a squeak of anger and reached for Zuko's head, hoping to grab him and pull him back before he revealed any further information. Unfortunately Zhao seemed quite interested in hearing the story and he quickly ripped Jet away, making sure to kick the freedom fighters face in the process. And just to be thorough, he kicked his shoulder as well. "Oh, do continue, Prince Zuko." He encouraged cheerfully.

"Its really nice, annnd…sometimes he does this thing with his mouth, it…so warm…" He trailed off in to a murmur of Jet's great mouth, his lips curving in to a blissful smile. "…There was this one time we did it on your desk…and we cleaned it after thought, but it was funny, 'cus we…" Zuko trailed off once again, but this time, instead of been silent, the Admiral scoffed and kicked him off and on to the floor, expression dark.

"You did WHAT on my desk?" He demanded the two boys, voice rising with each word. Zuko winced and rubbed is ear, whilst Jet looked sheepishly between the four people in the room.

"We make babies." Zuko answered quite suddenly. He fisted a hand and shook it to further his point, clearly enjoying whatever reactions he got from the Admiral. "'Course you don't know, that's what made it funny…" Sudden realization seemed to pop in to Zuko's mind at that point. He blinked, stared up in to Zhao's furious face, and finally shrugged and frowned, unsure of what else to do while in his intoxicated state.

Behind him, Jet was tensing and attempting to crawl away from the two firebenders. He knew as well as any other man that an angry Zhao would NOT have pretty results.

Just as Jet reached out to pull open the door a loud crash sounded. He turned his head around just in time to see the couch tip over, Zuko and Zhao bent and fighting over its various cushions.

"Stupid monkey-faced bastard!"

"Shut it you brat!"

"I'll kick your—augh! Don't pull the hair! DON'T pull the hair!" A loud yelp escaped Zuko's throat as the Admiral pulled his head backward and worked on trapping him against the cushions

"I DO NOT look like a monkey!"

"OW! YES. YOU—OW—shit, stop that—DO."

This continued for another five minutes (With Sokka and Haru cheering them on) until Zhao managed to shut Zuko up by sitting on his waist and pulling at his hair. The prince gave an un-naturally loud whine and twisted his head, trying with no avail to escape the Admirals hold.

When Zhao gave rough tug at the silky black strands, he slowly began to cease his struggles. "…I just got a haircut today, you know…" he mumbled, drooping against the cushions with a defeated sigh. He was already drunk; there was no point in continuing a fight he wouldn't even remember. "You should get one too, for your monkey sideburn things—OW!" He gave a low whine and pressed his face in to the cushions, too tired to attack Zhao back. "Jet knows the place…"

"Eh?" Jet jumped at the mention of his name. "I did what now? What?" He eyed the drunken prince, his own eyes narrowed at the hands that were holding him down. "Uh, your going to crush his head…Erm, Choi, was it?"

"Zhao!" Another tug. "He deserves to have his head crushed."

Zuko yelped and twisted his head out of Zhao's grip. "Ow, now I have a headache" He groaned and shuffled underneath the admiral's waist, attempting to get comfortable. "Ugh, Jet, come kiss me better!"

"What? I can't kiss a headache better"

"Yes you can."

"No you can't"

"Yes you can."

"NO YOU CAN'T"

"YES YOU CA—"

Sokka cut the two lovers off. "I'll kiss it better if you want!" He exclaimed, leaning over the prince's trapped head, lips puckered. "Ohh Zuuzuu..."

"OH GOD, JET HELP ME—"

Jet quickly grabbed Sokka by the head and wrestled him in to the ground, pulling him across the room, and then right in to a laughing Haru's waist. The prince simply ignored the three of them as they fought, too focused on trying to keep the room from spinning each time he moved.

Zhao stared down at the younger male. "So I guess that just leaves us?"

"Yep."

"…And you're underneath me, helpless…" He waved a hand. "Trapped…"

"Yep."

"And drunk."

"Yep."

Zhao grinned.

"So, what else do you and Jet do together?"