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31_days2005-12-23 11:44 pm
yesthatnagia.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-12-23 11:44 pm
[Dec 23] [Avatar] Stolen Moments
[t]itle: Stolen Moments
[r]ating: T
[w]ordcount: 441
[d]ay: Dec 23: What's the use of feet?
[f]andom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
[p]airing: Sokka/Katara (YES, I KNOW what you're about to say, so, shut UP)
[s]ummary: A stolen moment. Aang is asleep, and Katara's feet hurt.
[n]otes: I write incest, yay.
There are, of course, stolen moments.
He is just enough older than she that she remembers hearing him crying out in the night (before their home was... That), and wondering why. She remembers the resurgence of it, too, and the way he wouldn't look at her all the next day.
Now, she looks back on her confusion and smiles.
He, seeing her smile, smiles back.
She sits barefoot before the fire, one hand curled on a foot, and he sits with her, his hand covering hers.
Aang is invisible in the firelight, and his absence is their reminder: you are all I have left. You are all that is beautiful in this world.
"My feet hurt," she whispers.
"We'll have to buy you new shoes, I guess." And he smiles at her again, that expression brilliant.
He might not be a Bender, but he doesn't lack for strength.
"But until we get some, I guess I'm just going to have to make it feel better..." That grin widens. "All by myself. You wouldn't have any blisters, would you?"
She looks up at him, shaking her head. Where is he going with this?
"No..."
And with that, he is behind her, pushing her off her log.
"To tell you the truth," he says, "I've always liked your feet."
"W-what?! My feet?! There's so much ELSE--"
"--Quiet! You want him to wake up?"
"No," she replies, quieter.
A finger traces along her left foot--- the side of her heel, the very arch of her foot, pressing ligtly, scraping lightly with a fingernail. It isn't exactly a tickling feeling. No, definitely not a tickle. But it sends shivers running down her spine and heat into her belly.
"I really, really like your feet," Sokka whispers into her ear, nibbling on her earlobe.
His hands swirl along her feet, touching, caressing, scratching so lightly...
From her feet to her ankles, from her ankles to her calves, from her calves to her knees ("Aie!" She squeaks, louder than she'd intended, and he hisses, "Sssh! Don't wake him up!").
From her knees to her thighs, and ahh--- ahh--- ahh---
His hands have slid up inside that skirt, are teasing her through the rag-cloth she uses as an undergarment. He is teasing her, and she hates it, because he approaches teasing now the same way he does when he's just being her brother.
And then Aang heaves a sigh, a great big sigh, and she looks over her shoulder at her older brother. He wears the same look of guilt she feels, and with a quick, brotherly kiss, he retreats.
Their moment of stolen time has ended.
[r]ating: T
[w]ordcount: 441
[d]ay: Dec 23: What's the use of feet?
[f]andom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
[p]airing: Sokka/Katara (YES, I KNOW what you're about to say, so, shut UP)
[s]ummary: A stolen moment. Aang is asleep, and Katara's feet hurt.
[n]otes: I write incest, yay.
There are, of course, stolen moments.
He is just enough older than she that she remembers hearing him crying out in the night (before their home was... That), and wondering why. She remembers the resurgence of it, too, and the way he wouldn't look at her all the next day.
Now, she looks back on her confusion and smiles.
He, seeing her smile, smiles back.
She sits barefoot before the fire, one hand curled on a foot, and he sits with her, his hand covering hers.
Aang is invisible in the firelight, and his absence is their reminder: you are all I have left. You are all that is beautiful in this world.
"My feet hurt," she whispers.
"We'll have to buy you new shoes, I guess." And he smiles at her again, that expression brilliant.
He might not be a Bender, but he doesn't lack for strength.
"But until we get some, I guess I'm just going to have to make it feel better..." That grin widens. "All by myself. You wouldn't have any blisters, would you?"
She looks up at him, shaking her head. Where is he going with this?
"No..."
And with that, he is behind her, pushing her off her log.
"To tell you the truth," he says, "I've always liked your feet."
"W-what?! My feet?! There's so much ELSE--"
"--Quiet! You want him to wake up?"
"No," she replies, quieter.
A finger traces along her left foot--- the side of her heel, the very arch of her foot, pressing ligtly, scraping lightly with a fingernail. It isn't exactly a tickling feeling. No, definitely not a tickle. But it sends shivers running down her spine and heat into her belly.
"I really, really like your feet," Sokka whispers into her ear, nibbling on her earlobe.
His hands swirl along her feet, touching, caressing, scratching so lightly...
From her feet to her ankles, from her ankles to her calves, from her calves to her knees ("Aie!" She squeaks, louder than she'd intended, and he hisses, "Sssh! Don't wake him up!").
From her knees to her thighs, and ahh--- ahh--- ahh---
His hands have slid up inside that skirt, are teasing her through the rag-cloth she uses as an undergarment. He is teasing her, and she hates it, because he approaches teasing now the same way he does when he's just being her brother.
And then Aang heaves a sigh, a great big sigh, and she looks over her shoulder at her older brother. He wears the same look of guilt she feels, and with a quick, brotherly kiss, he retreats.
Their moment of stolen time has ended.