Old Habits Die Hard

Summary – Aang notices some similarities between Kuzon and Zuko.

Disclaimer – Avatar: The Last Airbender != mine

Warning – some light boyxboy action

A/N – Writing fanfiction when I'm supposed to be working on college apps…of course, how else would I spend my time? xD

.fire nation palace.

They barely noticed it happening. One minute—they were bidding each other farewell. It was dawn. The sun rose golden and crimson, enlightening the world of their night camping out by the kitchens to the world. Kuzon was prepared to give his mother an explanation and a guilty smile. As he went to pass Aang, their hands brushing against each other as they both waved good-bye, his head swerved to deliver a chaste kiss on the corner of Aang's lips.

Surprise. Aang felt his back straighten.

"Wish me luck!" Kuzon called as he sprinted away.

"…Good luck!" Aang decided to forget about it. It wasn't very important, anyway. They had barely even touched.

.western air temple.

The night was fresh. Aang was slumped against the wall, willing himself to sleep, hypnotizing himself with his airbending fingers as he toyed with little patterns and intricacies. But his eyes remained open.

He gave up trying. "I'll be right back, Momo," Aang promised his pet, who crowed in response. He took up his glider in his hand. Perhaps flying would free his mind.

It did not. Because he saw the shadow of an intruder first.

"Hey! Stop right there!" By nature, his voice shouldn't be intimidating—it was barely mature. But people would recognize it now as the Avatar's. "Did you hear me? I said stop!"

The dark-clothed figure perched on the window sill crouched down. His head turned toward Aang. "Calm down. It's only me."

Of course. The height. The curve of the back. "Zuko? What are you doing? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Stillness. Zuko lifted a single arm and revealed his face, his scar. He observed Aang from this distance. "I'd say the same for you."

Aang shrugged forlornly. "I can't sleep, I don't know why. I'm feeling…" He trailed off, trying to find the right word. Zuko eyed the Avatar's lean form. He was barely older than a child. Of course.

"Bored?"

"I guess. I thought flying would help!" Aang brandished his glider proudly. "Wanna come with me?"

Zuko's expression barely changed as he shook his head. "That wouldn't work."

"Why not?"

"That glider's only meant for one person. I'd be too heavy for you to hold." Zuko gestured at the thin staff with a sort of characteristic pessimism.

"It worked once before," Aang pointed out.

Instantly, Zuko was taken back. He was surrounded by swords. He was breathing through the tiny holes of his mask, looking through the carved slits and searching for the Avatar. And at one point he grabbed a hold of Aang as the boy wrapped his legs around him and lifted the two up to the fort's walls.

"It…didn't, as I remember." But there was a hint of a smile on Zuko's face. He was beginning to relent.

"I'll keep the air flowing under you. You take the sides with your hands too. Come on, it'll be fun!"

It felt oddly like skirting around corners and sneaking out. Actually, that was exactly what they were doing, except they were tip-toeing to avoid waking everybody, not to keep secrets. But pretend games were never that bad.

Zuko stood still as Aang got onto his back and wrapped his legs around his lower torso. He whipped out his glider and guided Zuko's hands against his.

"Ready?" Zuko forced his anxiety away and nodded curtly. A gust of air pushed the two off the ground. They flew.

Zuko finally unclenched his stomach, his tight coil of nerves loosening as he relaxed against Aang's trust. The sky was dark, empty, a lavish black labyrinth of mysteries. He wondered if Aang knew where he was going. But he must—he'd flown here before. Warm, midnight wind flew through his sleeves. So this, he mused, must be what it's like to be Aang. Free. Light. Powerful.

"I told you," Aang laughed triumphantly against the back of his neck.

They landed softly, albeit a tad clumsily, on the patch of grass above the temple. Neither knew what time it was anymore. Then again, neither really cared. Sitting, breathing in the same air, enjoying the nothingness that they could share without any exterior expectations…they watched the sun. It rose golden and crimson, enlightening the world of their night in flight.

"We should head back now," Zuko said, staring at the way the rays touched the temple with light—slow and vague at first, and then a more intense glare. It was the moving of time of which Zuko was always so aware.

"Yeah, we should," Aang nodded.

Neither seemed distraught by their complete lack of sleep. Rather, this insomnia put them in a trance—so that when Zuko inhaled a little too deeply and a little too close to Aang's cheek, they felt it and moved closer and it was quite nearly a chaste kiss of smoke—they barely knew it happened.

They returned to their camp, Aang presenting a guilty smile to each irate face of worry. The entire night seemed a tad…familiar.