a smile draws his lips upwards, a slight one, but his eyes crinkle at mizuki’s words. ‘i would have never guessed’; the information had not been his to guess; few knew of his position, few were allowed to. any unnecessary knowledge would put himself in danger. this, however, would put him in no danger. lu ten had never feared mizuki. ending this man’s life after all he had done would be a service.
he breathes out, fingers lithe around the hilt of his blade. the smile falls “it’s not why i’m here. you know why i am,” he hardly gives mizuki the opportunity to finish his sentence. even now, mizuki chooses to dismiss iruka as drama, but perhaps iruka was their beginning and their end. whatever connection lu ten and mizuki had circled iruka, their relationship was defined by the love the had for him. he had come to the assumption long ago, that in his own twisted way, mizuki did love iruka--embroiled in obsession as it was.
lu ten had spent years trying to pry mizuki’s claws and words from iruka’s heart. he had done his best to show nothing but kindness to the man who was one of iruka’s oldest and dearest friends, even as the man drove him wild with words. just as he was attempting to do now.
tongue darts out to wet his parted lips, and he lets the mask drop from his hand. even now, he chooses to run his mouth.
lu ten moves forward in a flash: a hand grips mizuki beneath his chin, fingers dig into the soft flesh of cheek and neck, and he pushes the man back against a nearby tree; his blade plunges through abdomen and into rough bark. “you have always tried to blame him for your own misgivings, mizuki.” the words leave him like venom and he breathes out, chest heavy, though they are hardly above a whisper. he presses his forearm against mizuki’s chest to keep him from moving, and keeps the tight grip he’s got on his chin.
“i have watched you for years. the way you talk to him, your mistreatment; he has been nothing but a good and kind friend to you and you have the nerve to use your final breath to speak of him in this way?”
he tilts the blade outward, just enough to cause further pain. “you and i are more alike than you realize--i will not bore you with the details, not in your....current predicament. but i won’t allow you to assume the love i have for iruka is anything like your affection for him. that is one of the few ways we differ: he will never know the pain of my departure again. your departure, however,” he pauses, gives a squeeze to the man’s jaw, makes sure their eyes meet. “will be a turning point for him, to let him move past the things you have done to him.”
he can barely feel his body. iruka knows, even if it is distant, that everything must hurt, that he’s in just awful shape, but he can’t quite feel it. the pain medication has left him in a haze, with only a dull ache in his arms and chest and back keeping him from resting peacefully. he feels miles away from his body and, unfortunately, from the man standing watch in the corner of his hospital room. as if they continue to be separated by a force stronger than iruka can bear.
Read More Now!
lu ten begins pulling away when iruka makes pained noises, and continues even as the other objects. he doesn’t want to stop; he wants to kiss iruka for the rest of time. “i’m not. i’m not leaving.” his head hovers inches above iruka’s, their noses just touching, and rubs gentle circles into iruka’s cheeks with his thumbs. the words are slurred, but the meaning comes through loud and clear. relief floods him all at once and he’s got to bite his lip to stop it from shaking, to stop himself from sobbing once more: iruka isn’t just alive.
iruka still loves him too.
he can’t help but smile and presses careful kisses to the man’s lips, his nose, as iruka’s hands cover his own. and then his lips return to lu ten’s. “mmph--iruka, wait, wait.” words are whispered against lips. a gasp leaves him as he pulls away, hands steady as they cradle the other’s face in an attempt to keep him where he is, even though he keeps trying. “you’ll agitate your wounds.”
he strokes iruka’s cheek, wiping tears away, and makes sure he is situated and lying down in bed. he sniffs, let’s out a shuddering breath and lu ten is nodding at his words; their foreheads touch and eyes meet. iruka’s gaze is still unfocused and, now, blurred with tears, but they are still the most beautiful eyes he’s ever looked at.
lu ten adjusts himself so that he is laying on his left side, next to iruka; careful and precise with each movement so as not to hurt him. left arm is lifted to rest above iruka’s head, fingers tangling into the man’s hair, while the other hand rests ( so, so carefully ) over iruka’s beating heart.
“i’ll stay with you for the rest of our lives if you’ll have me.” ( oh, please say you’ll have me. )
he leans close, resting his head against iruka’s again and presses lips against the side of his face, up to his forehead and down, again and again and again. each as gentle as the last. lu ten focuses on the gentle beating of iruka’s heart beneath his palm. lips press gently against iruka’s ear.
“i’ll lay here until you’re ready to go home.” another kiss and his voice becomes softer, pleading. “let me take you home when they let you out, iruka. you-- you’ll need help around your apartment until you recover. say you’ll take me back.”
footsteps are quick and deadly quiet as iruka rounds the corner towards lu ten’s cell. for someone out of practice, he’s done well slipping past the rogue nin that called this base their home, and makes quick work of the one guarding the holding cells. he keeps his eyes on the hallway ahead of him, tries not to think about the body he’s left behind. there’s something more important than guilt on his mind.
he’s a strategist more than fighter; a rescue mission is just iruka’s forte, though this particular mission wasn’t assigned to him. he can still hear lady tsunade outright forbidding him from going after lu ten when the hostage’s note arrived. but he’s here now. he’ll ask her forgiveness later, when he has lu ten back, safe and alive and well. iruka knows she can’t argue with a job well done.
he stops before the only occupied cell. in the dark, iruka can make out a figure slumped against the wall, but not much else. there is no movement, even with all the noise his footfall has surely made as controlled movements became more desperate. even with his ragged breathing. iruka’s heart slams against his chest, so fast he can feel it in his throat, choking him, making his voice come out strangled and thin. “lu ten?”
no response, and iruka feels a surge of panic. hands are unsteady as iruka unlocks the door, takes a knee at his lover’s side. and there’s a moment when he thinks the man is dead, that he’s already too late. unresponsive, unmoving ( even as iruka places a trembling hand against his cheek, there is nothing ). iruka can’t help but let his eyes linger on the bruising on his face, the dry blood crested on the side of his head, the agitated wounds on his arms that desperately need to be tended to. he tamps down the anger as it rises in the back of his throat, pushes away thoughts of finding whoever’s hand is responsible for this and breaking it. it’s unhelpful. he needs to focus. but - no, he’s breathing, iruka can see it now. the gentle rise and fall of lu ten’s shoulders. oh, thank god, he’s breathing.
iruka forces himself to keep focus. he can feel lu ten’s familiar chakra ( he’s been desperate for it, missing from the bed next to him for more than a week ), but it’s muted and restrained. like someone’s turned down the temperature. he looks for other signs to confirm his suspicion, finds lu ten’s eyes are glassy and faraway, that he looks right through iruka in front of him. it’s genjutsu. it makes sense: he can’t imagine lu ten is an easy prisoner. his captors must’ve grown tired of his constant fighting, his burning up of their bindings. best to place him in a dream to keep him docile. the way lu ten doesn’t stir, even when touched, doesn’t seem to fight to the surface, iruka has to assume its a nice one. it brings him relief to know that, at least in this moment, lu ten isn’t suffering.
bringing lu ten back to reality surely won’t be as sweet as the tricks his mind is playing. iruka places on hand on his shoulder to steady him, his other forming the sign to release the genjutsu. with the amount of time he’s been held here, it’s likely to take a little while for lu ten’s awareness to fully return, but iruka intends to ease him into it with soft, coaxing words. with a surge of chakra, the genjutsu is dispelled and, slowly, slowly, lu ten’s gaze focuses on iruka before him.
he almost cries with the force of his relief. “hey, I’ve got you.” iruka smiles and his voice is gentle, but firm. something real for lu ten to hold onto. he gives his shoulder a squeeze. “you’re coming back now. take it easy. I’ve got you.”
a moment is all he needs. he stands among overgrown grass, breeze light, sun warming tan skin. his head feels fuzzy.
“play! play, papa!”
the boy’s sweet laugh takes him off guard, tiny hands pull at the leg of his pants. lu ten blinks, shakes his head in an attempt to pull himself from his thoughts. the toddler has hands on his hips, looking very clearly unhappy that his father had gotten distracted from their game. “pleeease!!” father is quick to oblige his son: he smiles and quickly makes chase. “come here, you!” they’re both laughing now and lu ten runs after him. finally, arms reach out and scoop him up and the boy lets out a delighted squeal as he throws arms around his father’s neck.
once more his gaze wanders, fixates just a short distance away where iruka sits with naruto. (how old was the boy now? he’s lost track--nineteen? twenty?) he leans close, smiling. “i think it’s time to go get your big brother.” in an instant, the boy is pulling away, laughing and running towards where the other two are seated, and tackles naruto, who quickly takes after the boy.
again, the fuzziness creeps in, but iruka is calling to him and waving his hand, beckoning him from where he sits. he is slow to move, wracking his brain before taking a seat. “i know just what you need.” iruka’s voice calms him and, when he offers out the bundle he’s been carrying, lu ten is quick to accept, pulling the baby close to his chest.
“this all just seems...” he has to stop, but iruka is looking at him with brown eyes filled with concern. “too good to be true?” iruka finishes his thought, and the hand he’s got on lu ten’s shoulder moves to stroke the baby’s cheek. lu ten leans down to press a gentle kiss to the little one’s head. “i feel the same--it’s like a dream. just, take it easy. we’re okay now, lu ten.”
“i’ve got you.”
a groan escapes chapped lips. “...ru...ka...?” he blinks once, twice, as iruka’s face comes into view, brown eyes filled with the same concern. “wha’ happ’n’ed..? where...?” the room around him is coming into view, but his eyes are drawn to the blood across iruka’s vest. he’s trying to sit up at once, worry wracking his body, evident across his face. “the kids...are they okay? where are they...?” the words leave his mouth and feel wrong on his tongue. his hand shakes as he lifts it, and it falls to iruka’s arm. “are you...?”
There were always whispers among the servants. He hears them speaking, voices hushed and low, lest they be overheard by the royal family or the nobles that the whispers were typically about. Lu Ten had always been keen on listening to them. Oftentimes, silly rumors about the latest meeting, or some even about himself, had brought him a sense of relief to feel his tender age of seventeen. There were even a few late nights, where they’d stood around in the kitchen together: the crown prince and new, young servants, close to his own age, telling stories, gossiping, even laughing.
Now, he hesitates around a corner, having backtracked when he’d heard a certain name. He wonders, perhaps, if the group knew he hovered nearby. Lu Ten bites down on his lip at the words he hangs onto-- “crown prince’s tutor” and “execution”.
He swears his heart stops before he takes off, looking as calm and composed as ever, even as a sickness overtakes him, and he heads towards his bedroom, in desperate need of the safety and privacy that could only be brought by a closed door.
It shuts behind him and he presses sweaty palms against the door. He is stuck and desperate for breath. What had he done? Lu Ten had been attempting to be on his best behavior. Had Iruka done something? Said something to the wrong someone? No. No. He would never. Iruka was careful, thoughtful, to protect both of them.
(What was there to say, anyway?)
What could be done? Take the blame for an act (a word?) that he was unsure of?
Oh, how had he let this happen? How had he screwed up so colossally?
With his back to the door, he slides down until he’s sitting, pulling knees close to his chest. His thoughts are racing: what had pushed them over? would he be required to attend? forced to watch? if he reacted would Azulon do the same to him?
No--Azulon had never been one to beat around the bush. The way his grandfather referred to him (“my heir”) with such pride (like some prized possession). His treatment of Ozai, it was clear even Azulon would not decry his precious heir; the one beloved by their people, already respected by their generals and admirals. No. Lu Ten would live and he would suffer, if need be; (“there is always a lesson to be learned.”).
He stands on legs that shake beneath him and begins making his way down corridors. (What was the lesson?) The servant he’d overheard steps aside when she sees him and bows her head. How did she hear it before him? How much did they know? Had they..?
How did they know everything? He feels eyes on him as he passes, but has no interest in checking to be sure. How did they always know?
Lu Ten rounds corner after corner until he arrives at a pair of large and exquisite doors, where two imperials firebenders stand guard outside his grandfather’s bedroom. They bow, but show no other signs of acknowledgment but, still, he feels their eyes on him. He knew they gossiped just as well as the servants; the only difference was they were quieter about it.
His life was on display from the moment he was born, it hardly belonged to him. It was a spectacle for others to view.
His lifts a hand to knock.
And stops.
Fist rests against wood. The guards don’t move, they say nothing and he owes no explanation. He is their Prince, after all.
He offers something anyway.
“I need a moment.”
Heads turn, the guards exchange a look, trying to decide if the prince is asking them to leave. What was he doing? What could he possibly say? He had envisioned this a thousand times. Begging, pleading, in horrible desperation to spare Iruka’s life, all for reasons he could not fully explain. Reasons he did not want to explain. What happened between the two of them, whatever emotions passed between them, was no one’s business but their own.
Would it come to that? Would he go that far?
Lu Ten takes a breath, straightens his back, and knocks. Armor clinks as the two face forward again.
“Let him in.”
Azulon’s voice through the doors turns his stomach. A guard obliges, opens the door for him, and closes it behind him.
He walks, head buzzing, the room fuzzy around the edges, towards his grandfather. It’s easy for him to forget how old the Fire Lord really is; he looks a different man now, sitting up in his bed, reading over scrolls, versus the powerful man who ruled with no mercy in the war room. Azulon does not look up as Lu Ten approaches him, but with a simple wave of his hand, the boy stops.
“You have got nerve to disturb me without first requesting my presence, Prince Lu Ten.”
His grandfather’s golden gaze finally flicks towards him. The malice in the man’s face is not present in his eyes, he looks almost....amused? Lu Ten swallows and kneels, arm resting on his raised knee and head bowed in typical greeting. “My apologies, Fire Lord Azulon. I had no intention of interrupting--”
“Yet, you have decided to. Tell me what it is you want.”
Lu Ten lifts his head. Azulon did not like being kept waiting, and the prince realized as soon as their eyes meet that he had not prepared a word of what he intended to say. He’d always been quick witted, sharp and able to roll with whatever came his way, but he hesitates for a brief moment: knowing Iruka’s life rests in his hands, but in that moment, the look in Azulon’s eyes changes. The humor gone, replaced by certainty--smugness and anger rolled into one.
This was an expected visit.
The last lesson Azulon had taught him--restraint, was one he had learned well. The burns across his shoulder blades a constant reminder. His time with Iruka had been filled with nothing but restraint as his feelings towards the boy morphed into something entirely new to him. Lu Ten had dreamt of gentle hands wrapping his bandages, of smiles and whispers, of kisses while lying underneath his favorite tree in the city.
His voice, formal, confident, lacks the emotions that his pounding heart tells him. The room grows hotter as his body temperature increases, a nervous habit he’d never gotten control of.
“I wonder what crime my tutor has committed to deserve death. We have only executed traitors and deserters in the past, My Lord. Is there something he has done to deserve such punishment?”
He had taken Iruka there every time the pair had a chance to be together outside of the palace; they had taken to taking walks together on the days they had class together. They shared no kisses beneath the tree, but had laid apart, fingers just barely touching in the grass.
There was no one around. No one to see.
Azulon’s smile is dark.
Had he done this?
(Oh, how he wanted to kiss Iruka then.)
“Is distracting my heir not treasoness?” A pause. “Did I not warn you to restrain yourself, Prince Lu Ten? You think I have not noticed? That this common boy has made you soft. I have looked away long enough while you have conducted yourself so brazenly.” The elderly man’s brows have knitted together, and Lu Ten sees Fire Lord Azulon as he is in the War Room once more. No mercy.
“You think I have no seen the way you behave?” He scoffs. “I have shown both you and this boy mercy for allowing it to go on this long. He has no place here. I allowed you to sully yourself with the company of servants--” Lu Ten’s eyes close and he is bowing his head again, lower than before. He can hear the sneer in his grandfather’s voice without looking. “Oh, do not play shy now. You are my heir, the son of the Dragon of the West, and you will behave as such. I have seen you seek out the servants for company and thought nothing of it. Your father did the same as a boy. Now, whatever spell he has on you will be broken.You will be there. And you will give the orders to-”
“No..!”
The word leaves before he can stop them. His head snaps up from the shock, brown eyes wide. Azulon looks pleased to have caught him so off guard. “Grandfather, I--” he feels sick. Their eyes meet, Lu Ten’s chest is heaving as panic settles in. Oh, spirits, please don’t make him give the orders. Not Iruka. “Fire Lord Azulon,” he corrects himself; this was not a chat amongst family members. This was a private political meeting.
Lu Ten had the keen feeling that he did not take to being called grandfather the way he did to being called Fire Lord. He was Fire Lord Azulon first and foremost. The slip-up had clearly made him angry.
“What is the problem, Prince Lu Ten? You have ordered other men to their deaths, have you not?”
Head falls lower, his knee drops, and Lu Ten bows lower still, until his forehead is pressed against the marble of the floor. “Please, Fire Lord Azulon. Let the boy live. I’ll do anything.”
The heat around the room swells once more: candles, this time. The flames grow, brighten the room, and Lu Ten clenches his eyes shut tighter. Lu Ten’s anxious mind merely warmed the room, enough to make one sweat, but Azulon’s anger had scorched men in the past; had scorched his own grandson just a few months prior. “The time for doing anything has passed! You have had your chance.”
No. No, no, no, no.
“I had only shared the information a few hours ago and you race here to change my mind? That behavior is not befitting of the future ruler of my nation. The boy makes you weak!”
Lu Ten’s thoughts drift briefly to his grandmother, a woman long gone before his birth. He had never known her, rarely heard talk of her, beyond knowing that his own father had been named for her: Ilah and Iroh. Surely his grandfather must have had some fondness for her. Some love.
“I beg of you, Fire Lord Azulon. Anything at all. I swear to you, I’ll never see him again. All contact will cease immediately.” He presses his head against the cool marble, focuses on it. Cool against the increasing hot room, he was unsure which of them was the blame for it. Tears swell behind closed eyes and he lets out a shaky breath.
If never seeing Iruka again meant he would live, Lu Ten would suffer the remainder of his life in silence, but it was one promise he would keep.
Tears roll out the corner of his eyes, but he does not look up, cannot allow him to see him like this. “You should not be seeing him outside of your class or any supervised sessions at the palace. You truly must believe me to be a fool to not know the things you do. My mind is made up. The commoner will be put to death and you--”
“Please, no! Is it not punishment enough that I won’t see him, when you know what he means to me?” His voice raises but it cracks and quivers with fear. Desperation. He’s running out of ideas. The hands, flat in front of him, curl into fists and shake. What has he got to offer?
He does not know what Iruka means to him (goodness, kindness, in a world that has shown him very little). The way his heart felt the first time he watched Iruka talk with Zuko and Azula. It was that moment he realized he wanted to run away with them; just the four of them. His cousins, safe and happy, away from their father. All of them away from Azulon. When had he come to despise his grandfather?
“I will be by your side, I swear it. I am your heir. I have proved my loyalty to you time after time and I will do it again. I will follow in your footsteps, in my father’s footsteps. Allow me this one thing, I beg of you, Fire Lord Azulon. I will not ask you for one more thing. I will not let you down again.”
No more weakness. No more mercy.
Azulon had risen without him noticing until the footsteps near. This is too familiar. His body tenses, preparing for what happened the last time he had bowed his head so low (his back aches at the thought).
“Your weakness is like that of Fire Lord Sozin, towards the end of his life. How will you prove this to me, Prince Lu Ten? That you will not go back to your ways when I am gone.” He pauses as though he had just come up with the idea, but Lu Ten knows him well enough to know that the next words have been prepared all along. “Shall I send word to your father, to ensure he keeps you in check? Or perhaps it is better to just handle the issue at hand now, as I have said.”
He dares not look up. Think, think, think, Lu Ten, you fool. What had he to offer to the most powerful man the world had known?
“General Iroh told me when he was a boy he dreamed of taking Ba Sing Se. We will take it for you, Fire Lord Azulon. I will take it for you.” He had been training to join the military. He could outdo his father’s strongest men. He had been born to fight, to burn, to conquer like his forefathers before him. His voice steadies as he goes along: strength and confidence returning. He could do this.
“You said it was my destiny to finish the war Fire Lord Sozin started. I will finish it in Ba Sing Se. Let the boy live. That is all I ask, and I will give you everything.”
Something inside of him burns to see Iruka. The tutoring sessions they had together had dwindled, meetings a few times a week had turned into one, then one every few weeks, and then none. Iruka’s departure from the palace for the final time, weeks ago, had nearly caused the prince to fall into complete despair. The old aching and familiar emptiness had settled quickly into his chest as loneliness took hold of him, tighter than ever.
If they had continued to meet, unprompted and without reason, he knew it would draw glances and whispers that neither could withstand. Shoulders rollback, stretching the taut muscles in his back where, a few years earlier, his grandfather had scarred him. Though the initial pain had left, the injury flared on occasions; he only dismissed it on account of the chill in the night air.
He had been on his best behavior. If he gets caught, he thinks, they won’t do a thing to him. There was nothing to be done. He would be gone in a few weeks time--to the soon-to-be scorched Earth Kingdom; to war.
If he was caught, though, what could they do to Iruka? Surely Azulon would know (he seemed to always know what lurked behind the surface); his grandfather was one of the few, perhaps the only one, who could read him. Until Iruka. The two boys could share a glance that said more than any words could.
It’s dark now, and the streets are empty other than the guards that patrol, it requires almost no effort to avoid them. He couldn’t think of what they would do to him, because he wouldn’t get caught. The only thing that mattered now was seeing him; he needed to. Iruka deserved to know that he would be joining his father to Ba Sing Se. Lu Ten pulls the hood of the cloak closer around his face.
The prince had never set foot in Iruka’s apartment before, but during one of their strolls through the city, they had walked towards the building; Iruka had even pointed out the exact window that belonged to him. Lu Ten had imagined himself walking the path to Iruka’s home hundreds of times.
He’s gathered a few small pebbles in his hand and is throwing them at the window. A figure moves in the dark and when Iruka pokes his head out to investigate, a smile blossoms across his lips. Oh. It had been so long. He feels almost weak in the knees, but shoves the feelings of longing and loneliness aside. Lu Ten pulls down the hood of his cloak to show himself, dark hair loose and shorter than it had been since he was a boy; trimmed below his shoulders instead of hanging at his waist.
He waves an arm. Beckoning him:
(Come down and see me or invite me up. It’s been too long.)
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I almost bled out and I couldn’t stop thinking about YOU.” i’m sorry i had to. i am obligated to.
Arms are wrapped tightly around himself. (Stay grounded.) Iruka was no longer his to rush to, to hold, to tend to. He wished he was. How stupid he had been to think that leaving Iruka would make him safer.
That thought process had pushed him right into harm’s way. It hadn’t come from his family, as he had expected, but from Mizuki. He couldn’t fully wrap his mind around how Mizuki--possessive, controlling, Mizuki--had done this to the person that he had so clearly loved to have control over. He should have, though. Should have seen it coming and been there for him. Their last encounter, just a few weeks ago in his apartment, had been the last time they’d interacted. Lu Ten had known they had ended things, that Mizuki had kicked him out. He should have known. If he had been smart enough he could have prevented this.
So, he keeps his distance and continues to blame himself as Iruka comes around.
The two of them in hospital room took him back, reminded him of his own injury. Lu Ten hugs himself tighter and takes a shaky breath. He could still remember the pure bliss of lying in his hospital bed, Iruka pressed against him as they dozed together; sharing sweet whispers and even sweeter kisses. The injury itself could very well have taken his life, but what had come from it had been worth every bit of pain. He’d take it tenfold to take Iruka in his arms again now.
Staff had warned him that even with the healing he had undergone, Iruka would be given medication for the pain, that he may be in and out of consciousness, that he may be groggy, but he was alive.
His body trembles as their eyes meet and Lu Ten knows how he must look: face contorted, eyes brimming with tears.
“Stop looking so upset. I want to see you smile. Your smile is so pretty.”
Iruka’s words are slurred and they offer him no comfort. He shakes his head, and he does his best to smile for him (show that he is glad that he’s alive), but it’s sad. Lips quiver, and he sniffs, before his expression falls and he rubs furiously at his eyes. “Iruka, please...” his voice shakes, takes a step away. “You’re hurt.”
Iruka’s eyes seem far off and out of focus. “I guess he didn’t take the break up that well, huh?” His tone is sweet, like it was whenever he comforted Lu Ten when they had been together. Iruka was hurt and he was trying to cheer him up, trying to joke even in the state that he was in.
“That’s not funny.”
Tears flow freely now, but he still attempts to hide them, brushing them away with the back of shaky hands and fingers. He’s got to take a breath. You could have died, he wants to scold him. ( You could have died and we’ve barely spoken in weeks. I’ve been avoiding you because looking at you hurt too much. I love you and I haven’t told you in months. You were almost gone too soon and you want to tell jokes? I’m so stupid to have left you and I hope you know that. )
But Iruka is looking at him as though he hears every thought. He doesn’t bother to hide his tears anymore.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I almost bled out and I couldn’t stop thinking about YOU.”
The words nearly knock him off his feet and he cannot come up with any of his own. He can only act on instinct.
Lu Ten is across the room in an instant and bent over the bed; supported by the mattress on his knees and propped up by his forearm near Iruka’s head, he takes Iruka’s face in the palms of his hands, delicately, as best he can (how he loved to cradle his face, stroke his cheeks with his thumbs) and kisses him.
There are awkward movements as he attempts to kick off his shoes, bringing himself closer and closer with each kiss, but careful not to put any weight on him, not to accidentally shift him and aggravate the already severe injuries.
“I love you, I love you.” Words are whispered and cheeks burn red as tears drip from his eyes onto Iruka’s face. His hands don’t stop shaking even as he wipes the tears from Iruka’s face. “Sorry, sorry. I’m--” They’re so close, heads nearly touching. “I’m in love with you and I’m so sorry.”
He’s got a leg on either side of his hips now, still careful not to touch, not to put pressure on. Thumbs move in a familiar fashion, stroking Iruka’s cheeks. “I never stopped loving you. Not for a single moment. I--” He wants to explain. (I wanted to keep you safe. I wanted to protect you from my family.) But those words don’t come out.
mizuki kisses him like he’s marking his territory.
the months had ticked by achingly slow. he was alone, in a too lavish apartment that had been too big for the both of them. now, alone, the size was suffocating. lu ten had always felt far more at home in iruka’s apartment, leaving his own apartment vacant more nights than not. the pair had bounced around from place to place, never truly daring to take the step and move in together the entirety of their relationship; most nights had been spent at iruka’s because it was more convenient for his work, and it had worked out in the end.
it made things easier when lu ten broke things off. there had been no messy moves or dividing of things. just an exchange of some clothing and spare toothbrushes, a few trinkets here or there, that had been kept at the other’s apartment. (he would be embarrassed to admit that he had very nearly kept the sweater belonging to iruka that he had found a few weeks later).
he had hoped the silence, the loneliness, would pass with time, but that had proved untrue thus far. the time without iruka had been painful and filled with more agony than he would ever admit. he buried himself in work, either missions or paperwork at the tower. what little time away had been spent with his young cousins. the only thing keeping him from slipping into despair and begging the love of his life to take him back was that iruka would be happier, safer, without him.
it was something he was telling himself, even now, as he heated water on the stove for tea.
lu ten was so entangled with iruka, it was no shock that the man’s chakra lingered. most nights, the comfort and sheer warmth of its presence was the only thing able to help him sleep at night. it was so common place that the sudden growth of it outside his door makes him hold his breath. the knock nearly topples him.
one thousand images flash through his mind before he opens the door. why was he here? an overdue reunion or was iruka finally angry enough with him to tell him. had something gone wrong or was he here to say that it was the right thing and that he was better off without him (no, no. iruka would never be so callous). the door opens and iruka is there, not at all how he expected to find him: upset with tears running down his face. a few months ago and lu ten would have simply taken the man in his arms, wiped tears away, done everything try to make it right. instead, he nods, steps aside and tries to ignore his heart pounding loudly in his head.
“yes--yes. of course.” lu ten ushers him in, towards the sofa, trying to keep his face from showing the concern he felt as the door clicked shut behind him. “sit down. --uh, let me--let me get you some water.” he returns from the kitchen, glass in hand and box of tissue in the other. heart still beats in his ears and he hesitates before taking a seat on the sofa, making sure to leave space in between them, though he wants nothing more than to take iruka’s hands in his and hold his face; kiss him and tell him it’ll all be okay.
what happened?
he can’t give voice to the words in his head. so afraid to pry, to overstep. but iruka is here, with him, crying on his sofa and, for the first time, lu ten would not dare to reach out to hold him, no matter how desperate he was to do so.
he stands suddenly, takes a small step away. “i--i think i still have my homemade chai blend that you like.” he knew he did; it had been shoved to the back of a cabinet, behind his other teas, when he could no longer stand looking at it. “i’ll put some on for you and..you can tell me what’s wrong. or you can sit.” he manages a smile, brows crinkling together in worry. “just make sure you drink some water.”
the words catch his attention, but he doesn’t lift his gaze. he's on his back, their heads touching, as he stares intently. he can't even bring himself to look at iruka's face. they’re wrapped up in one another, something that had become normal for them now, but he reaches out, fingers tentatively grazing the old burns.
“ i remember. . . ”
his voice is low, gaze soft; he’s far from happy to remember their youth. his hands, now calloused and rough, are gentle when he takes iruka's arm and brings it to his lips to pepper soft kisses along the marred skin. a sigh. lu ten shuts his eyes and brings his lover's hand to his cheek.
that was what happened during sparring sessions, he had told himself again and again. it had taken multiple instances for him to finally stop firebending at him. the prince had been vicious and unrelenting, even during training; iruka had been one of the few who actually volunteered themselves of their own free will to practice with him. it had been difficult to find someone who was willing; he'd been breaking bones and taking down men twice his size and three times his age. he was a monster.
" i should have stopped, i-- " another sigh; brown eyes open after a moment of silence and he kisses iruka's hand. who would have stopped him? the behavior had been encouraged by anyone who's opinion mattered at the time ( his father, his grandfather ).
he's staring off, unable to look iruka in the eye or at the burns that littered his body because of... what? pride? routine? family honor? shame rises in him as he sits up, legs on one side. training had been an opportunity to be close; had allowed for touches to linger. he had craved it long before he was able to identify what it was he felt for iruka. any injuries would need to be cared for, to be wrapped, to be soothed. lu ten remembers the desperation for contact with him.
" i was awful. " you still are, he tells himself.
finally, his gaze returns, and his fingers are back, this time, tracing the burns on iruka's chest. he's trying to build up the courage to say what he wants to, but it feels trapped in his chest. iruka is putting on a brave face and lu ten isn't sure which of them it's for.
" you don't have to pretend it's okay. " His stomach is in knots and tears fill his eyes. " I wish you'd be mad at me, or upset at me. i hurt you over and over again. i’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, i swear. "
he had fallen asleep early the previous evening, mostly sprawled across iruka as he had studied; curled up, head in iruka’s lap, arms tangled around the man’s waist. there had been mutters of both of them going to bed, each trying to coax the other off of the loveseat and into the bedroom to get a proper night’s sleep. lu ten was woken the next morning by the sun peaking through
iruka seemed to have not moved at all during the night, sitting just as he had been when lu ten had drifted off to sleep--reading and taking notes as best he could despite his partner wrapped around him. he sits up, stretches arms, and rolls shoulders back with a sigh; he’s unsure if the stiffness was from falling asleep on their sofa or from his latest mission. bandages cover arms, soothing fresh burns that his teammate had already tended to.
there were soft whispers of good morning between them and lu ten gently scolds him for having stayed up all night ( “this isn’t the first time you’ve done this.” “you need sleep, too.” all said with a smile, a small laugh, a little roll of his eyes ) all of which iruka brushed off with a sweet smile, barely lifting his head from the research piled around him. lu ten stands, pressing a quick kiss to his love’s head, and reaches up to undo iruka’s hair before heading to the kitchen. eyes wander as he makes them breakfast, watching iruka begin to slow, though he doesn’t stop. he returns, plate in hand, and sits next to him.
“you should try to eat something. and get some rest.” a smile and he’s offering up food on a fork. “come on.”
he makes sure iruka eats, asks questions about what he’s been reading and listens as he sleepily gushes about his student, but iruka begins to slow once more; finally drifting until he’s fallen against lu ten’s shoulder.
gentle hands remove the papers, the pencil, the books from around iruka and he holds his head steady as he shifts, lays back, and brings iruka down with him. there is more warmth, more comfort in their small apartment, then there ever had been in his family’s compound; lu ten runs a hand through iruka’s hair and places another kiss to the head of the man dozing on his chest.
gossip travels fast through hallways of the school. students regurgitating tidbits of news they’ve overheard from their parents, teachers desperately trying to explain to curious young minds exactly what’s happening in their homeland. it’s become easier to answer their questions since the war ended. they’re all a little freer to speak these days and iruka has made good use of that freedom, encouraging his students to share what they’ve been told, to ask the questions they hold, often for the very first time, about the shifts happening to their world. right under their feet, right in front of their very eyes. for the first time since he was a boy, iruka is unafraid; there is no shadowy figure hanging over him, listening in, anymore. there is a new fire lord ( a boy he remembers fondly from when he was just a child ). the spectres that haunted his youth are gone.
Gaze is soft and he can't help the smile that spreads when the papers fall, the small gasp that leaves him. His heart is ramming so loudly in his chest he swears it jumps out with every beat. Iruka stands and he watches, cautious as he begins to move towards him. Had Iruka been taller than him when he had left? They had certainly been closer in height, then, he remembers.
His name leaves Iruka's lips and he's drawn forward by some invisible force, but takes only one step before stopping. Even after all this time there is some left over fear of being watched, of being caught. He had been terrified of being sold out to Azulon, but he was gone and had been for years now. Who would an observer tell if the two stood close by ? If their hands touched ? If they kissed ?
Hands fidget; he wants to reach out. Wants so badly to take his hand without hiding beneath a table or pulling back as soon as someone walked by. Instead he rubs fingers into his own palms.
But, Iruka is getting closer and closer and his heart may just burst. He's smiling too, utterly breathless, when he stops in front of him. Close enough to touch, he thinks. Iruka is real, standing in front of him after so many years.
The smile falters, though, as he spots the tears running down Iruka’s cheeks. He raises his hands, instinctively, though he had never before dared to initiate contact so openly before, but drops his hands before he can reach out and wipe his tears away. Fear creeps in again. His grandfather's face appearing in the back of his mind; the white, hot rage so familiar that it still lingered years after his passing. He remembers worrying for Iruka ( for himself, too ); what would happen if they were found out. The way they hid, never truly talked about whatever it was between them (love ! It had been and still was love).
Lu Ten, always impatient, so accustomed to getting what he wanted, had put them in danger more times than he'd care to think back on. Desperate to say something he couldn't or act in ways they shouldn't have. Iruka was a good balance, protective and intelligent and careful despite being two years younger. ( " I'm protecting us both, " he had said, Lu Ten remembers the words stinging then, he had always wanted more ). That argument--that tense moment between them--it was one that had truly put fear into him, perhaps for the first time; he had seen himself on hands and knees, begging his grandfather to spare the life of the common boy had they ever been caught, maybe even at the risk of his own neck. He was still unsure if Azulon would have heard him out had it come to that.
He hesitates, but his smile returns when Iruka speaks; draws him back to the present. His voice was sweeter than he had imagined it, far better than he had remembered. Lu Ten swallows the lump in his throat and takes a small step back, and turns just enough to shut the classroom door behind him.
His heart rises to his throat as he steps closer again, until they're nearly toe-to-toe.
This time, he raises his left hand first, shaking until fingers graze Iruka's cheek. They steady there and he uses his thumb to wipe away the tears that spill from his eye. " I've missed you. " The words fall out before he can stop them. ( Have you missed me ? Please say you have. )
His other hand raises, more assured than before and he wipes away tears from the other cheek. Finally, the face of the man he's desperately and secretly loved for years is cradled in the palms of his hands. They stand together, Lu Ten’s thumbs stroking Iruka’s cheeks, and drops his right hand, fingers tangling into the fabric of the man’s shirt. ( Someone is going to catch us, he thinks. The door will open any moment and they’ll have to pull apart. ) But he can’t take a step back, he’s waited too long to hold Iruka the way he is now. He’s being selfish again; he wants more.
He means to sound confident and sure of himself, the way he had all those years ago when he would flirt, try to dare him to do more, but his voice shakes. “ I want---” a pause, tongue darts out to wet his lips. Eyes flutter shut and he shakes his head before lifting his gaze to meet Iruka’s again. He tries to fall into the old pattern; wants to make a demand: ( I want to talk. Kiss me like you did then. ). Demands are easier than asking if there were still feelings between them.
The voice that comes out is soft, barely above a whisper, fear and tenderness all mixed together in his words and expression: “ You said we could talk when I came home..? ” ( Please say that you still want to. Say you’ve thought of me, like I have of you. )
@scnsei + you ever just write, like, a page and a half just because??
Hair is still short, hanging loose, barely above his shoulders. He's hyper aware of his appearance in ways he hasn't been in years; trying to smooth out the wild hairs on his head and the wrinkles in his clothes that were only there because of the way he continued to tug at them. The clothes are nowhere near the ornate ones he wore in his youth; armor had been left behind and fancy robes worn only when keeping up appearances with the new Fire Lord, his young cousin. What he wore now was closer in style to the average citizen, but still nicer than what he had grown used to the last five years.
It had been seven years since he was last home, and he had only returned a few short weeks ago. He had meant to seek Iruka out sooner, the person who had been with him constantly in his mind; fear, among other concerns, stopped him in his tracks.
Caring for Zuko and Azula needed to come first. Zuko was still unsteady in his new role as Fire Lord; the one Lu Ten had been groomed for since birth. Now, though, he was focusing on holding Zuko's hand through the transition, working diligently behind the scenes while visiting with Azula as often as her healers would allow. Weeks had passed and news of the prince’s return to the Fire Nation had gained speed. Had Iruka known already that he’d come home ? Would he care at all or--- ?
Years later, the feeling of the boy's lips still lingered.
Questions about schooling and education continued to dominate conversations within the palace’s walls: how would they undo decades of willfully lying and manipulating their own people ? Though he did not have a clear answer, Lu Ten knew Iruka was the one to go to. He'd held off, even when he was so desperate to reach out. Afraid, after seven years that things between them had changed or, somehow worse, that Iruka had moved on after his “death”.
It made sense, the feelings they shared for one another as boys had never even been spoken of aloud; still the thought was too much for his heart to handle. He wanted to, no, he needed to see him.
He hadn't expected to find himself in the same building where they'd first met. Walking through the hallways of the school, where the two had shared quick glances and quicker touches, made it start falling into place. Iruka : smart and always thoughtful and kind to others; teaching made sense. They had studied together, on productive days, but more importantly, Iruka knew. Iruka had always known the path the Fire Nation was on was the wrong one, and he had been brave enough to voice it to the Crown Prince.
Schools were still recovering from the invasion, history lessons were told to stop immediately; a new and long path lay ahead of them. He had been pointed the right way, checking each doorway for the right number, each step taking him closer and closer until-- Iruka's voice, deeper now than it had been, but still the same ( gentle and warm ), drifts from a room with an open door. Lu Ten almost stops, feeling suddenly choked up, and when a figure steps from the room his heart nearly stops. A student bursts free, all smiles, and Iruka calls after him, telling him to be careful and to get home safe. He smiles, sidestepping as the boy rushes past him without even a glance.
His heart pounds in his ear and he feels it rise up from his chest as he spots the class number he'd been told belonged to Iruka. Had they shared a class in this room as boys ?
He stops in the doorway, gazing, older now than he was-- they both are. He sees the handsome man he was so sure that boy would grow into, the one whose heart had been big enough to let in an entitled brat and who had taught him more without saying a word than he'd learned from any other private tutor.
Lu Ten barely feels like himself but, who was he now? Not a spoiled prince, but a man who had worked and lived on his own in a way he never would have thought possible all those years ago. Would he be impressed? Would the change be too much or perhaps not enough? Why was he even thinking that the person he was now could properly atone for his family's history? That he could be good enough for Iruka, even back then, had been incomprehensible. But now ?
A hand moves to his head, suddenly self-conscious once more, though Iruka has not looked up yet from the papers on his desk. The prince's once waist length hair was long gone, skin tanner from making a living with his hands beneath the sun. He stands a little straighter and lifts his hand, intending to knock to announce his presence, but rests his sweaty palm on the frame instead.
A thousand things run through his mind : he could clear his throat or knock, ask if they could talk ( "you said we'd talk when I got back" ), the image of himself simply walking across the room and kissing him enters his mind, but he can't bring himself to do any of those things.
Heart pounds, louder and louder; it feels like hours have passed, but it's only been a few seconds. Finally, a breath passes his lips, and he breathes out the word that has passed his mind everyday for nearly a decade:
turnnoffyourmind
annaxmalina
germansingergirl
ellievsbear
jacobvanloon
