foxysquidalso | Fic: Why Jet Likes Zuko

I posted this to

jetheartszuko, but I thought I'd post it here too, for the ARCHIVE!

Title: Why Jet Likes Zuko
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Pairing: Jet/Zuko
Spoilers: Mild, up to "The Serpent's Pass"
Characters: Jet, Zuko, Smellerbee
Word count: 635
Notes: The title is self-explanatory.

Why Jet Likes Zuko

First of all, it was how he moved. Tense and stiff when he thought someone was watching him, in the moments he believed himself unobserved, the other boy betrayed his own power and grace: in the way he held himself, in the way he pivoted smoothly, his eyes narrowing, when his attention was attracted by a noise or movement. Always alert, always ready to act. And whatever action he took, Jet was sure, would be effective. It was the way he moved that Jet noticed first, watching him from a distance on the road to Full Moon Bay.

It wasn't until they arrived, became part of the milling crowd waiting for the ferry, that Jet saw him again. A group of travelers shuffled to one side, and suddenly there he was. This time, Jet was close enough to examine the red, ridged welt of the scar that took up half the right side of his face. The sight of it gave Jet a strange thrill all through his body. He didn't know why. He almost spoke to the boy right then, licking his lips before opening his mouth to speak, but his mouth stayed closed as he thought better of it. Jet wanted to wait a little longer, to be certain of him first.

For the most part, the boy stuck to the side of the older man he was traveling with: a relative, Jet was sure. Wherever they went, Jet was not far behind. More than once, the boy's gaze passed over him. One of those times, it lingered, and Jet found himself looking into asymmetrical gold eyes, one of them diminished in size by the encroaching scar tissue. The boy examined him with mild, detached curiosity, as if he were a stray cat rather than a person, then turned away.

"I don't see what's so interesting about him," Bee sniffed.

Jet laughed in reply, but he didn't see what wasn't interesting. The boy's pale skin strikingly contrasted the dark of his scar. His black hair looked as if it would be soft, not that Jet had an excuse to touch it. Jet had heard his voice, though rarely in such close proximity that he could make out individual words. There was a severity to his tone, his words clipped, yet the voice itself was--Jet didn't know what it was, exactly, but he liked hearing it.

Jet waited until the stranger booked passage, listening near the ticket counter. The woman working there was a loud talker, loud enough for him to hear without drawing too close. The herd was usually thicker in the vicinity of the counter. His presence there wasn't suspicious. He lingered briefly behind the desperate few who'd resorted to donning Avatar costumes in the hopes of winning a place on the ferry. He couldn't help scrutinizing them, wondering--but no, all fakes.

That night, he and Bee and Longshot went to work. A lot of the refugees were loud talkers, too. It was easy to discover how long they'd been waiting, what ferry they were taking, and when. It was almost as easy to steal their tickets and passports while they were sleeping. It was their own fault. Most people weren't wary enough. There was a war on; they should have been more careful.

When he was boarding the ferry, his two friends in tow, Jet pushed through the other passengers on the way up the gangplank to win a place next to his quarry. It was then that Jet heard his name for the first time, spoken in passing by the older relative. Li. Jet felt that odd little thrill again. It was a common name, but he liked it. Like everything else about the boy, it put a grin on his face.