Jin Ho's Apartment

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Oh, he was so embarrassed. Every family had their culture and customs, and Jin Ho knew that his family weren't the only ones who had this particular one — there were some families in which the women kept their hair covered all the time! — but that didn't make him feel much better.

He winced when Mizu said I don't get why your hair is so important to you, but didn't say anything. It wasn't really that it was important to him so much as it was just the way he'd been raised. That's how things were. Of course Mizu's people probably had customs he didn't understand either, right? He clutched at the towel and looked away.

I don't think you're weird or anything, and if it's that important to you, I can go without touching your hair or seeing it down, and I'll be able to consider myself a lucky man if those things ever get to happen. I know we're not...to that point yet, so...yeah.

Well... at least there was that. Trying not to focus on the compliment he'd been paid by Mizu saying he'd be lucky if those things happened, Jin Ho nodded. He'd just go to the back then, and Mizu could keep reading and then —

The Waterbender was so pretty when his eyes were shining. Jin Ho smiled without realizing it. Mizu was doing a good job of keeping his mind off Sweeper, and that was the best gift in the world anyone could have given him. As the other man told him he could bend the water out of his hair without looking, Jin Ho's own green eyes sparkled.

"That would be amazing!" he gasped. "It takes hours for my hair to dry normally and I hate braiding it up wet, because then it stays wet forever —" he got up. "Hang on. I'll comb it out and then you can do it, okay?" How exciting! To be able to wash his hair that night AND go to sleep with it dry? It was like a miracle to Jin Ho. His hair was beautiful and long but it was also thick, and the dang stuff could hold water until morning. The metalbender went back down the hallway and picked up his verawood comb and a small bottle of oil. That oil was where the sandalwood scent he always seemed to carry came from — it went on the hair wet and was combed in.

Coming back to the living room, Jin Ho sat back down. "I'll just... comb it out, and then you can — help me?" He seemed a little unsure. When he was satisfied that Mizu wasn't looking at him he took his hair out of the towel, shaking it out a little as he did so. Rubbing a tiny amount of the oil in his hands, he stroked it over the ends of the hair and up into the middle before picking up the comb. Starting at the bottom, Jin Ho worked all the tangles out slowly, humming a little in an absent-minded way. He had a pleasant voice, but he didn't hum very loudly.

It took a little while, but eventually he tossed the now tangle-free hair back behind him and turned away, curling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. His hair hung down his back, heavy and damp. "All right," he said, a little nervously. "I — I guess it's fine now?"

Mugen rubbed his eyes and sighed. Were regular people always so taxing? He would have felt more comfortable if Yuriko has complained about letting the man live or suggested staying to fight off the police.
Yuriko's reaction was something else.
He heaved one more sigh. "Just follow me and try not to look like a witness to a crime."

If he had the pockets of his burned jacket back he would have thrust his hands in them. He settled for his pants pockets. It wasn't quite the body language for an innocent passerby but it was his day off. No acting. He enjoyed acting but it was still work.
He almost counted the steps until the Dragon Flats District. It was a relief to reach one of the poorest and most crime-ridden parts of Republic City. Outside of the south-west where his Clinic and Dumpling shop resided, where he was in talks with a certain group about protection, Dragon Flats was where he felt safest.
It was home, after all.

Even in the poor part of the city there were poor dwellings. Those were the basements. At the cost of occasional boiler maintenance, pipes hanging from the ceiling only one small window one could afford rent and food with a low paying job. Mugen Yuan's mother had two so most of the time it was unoccupied or at least occupied by a sleeping woman.

Silently, Mugen led Yuriko by the wrist into the apartment building. She looked too close to hysteria for his taste. The police confession kind of hysteria.
When a middle-aged woman with a dirty face and a bandaged arm came up from the basement Mugen was the one who felt close to hysteria.
"Mama?" He couldn't say that without unintentionally slipping into his Foggy Swamp accent.
"Mugen!" The woman's thick accent put Mugen on edge. "Cut myself wit'a scythe...or maybe a sickle...one of those, so they let me off." He assumed that only his mother could say such a thing with such a smile.

Next to life in prison, people meeting his mother was Mugen Yuan's greatest fear. It was not so much embarrassment that people often took his mother's thick, almost unintelligible accent and dirty clothes as something to mock as that he felt compelled to kill those people. He didn't like the idea of killing in front of his mama.

Mugen's mother Ziu introduced herself as such as she led Yuriko down the basement stairs into her apartment.
"We'll get'cha outta those clothes and some food in ya."
In the basement apartment was a clothesline and sheet creating the illusion of a separate room. Ziu instructed that Yuriko change into the old light green kimono she tossed at the young lady.
"How long ya been seein' eachother?"
From the other side of the sheet Mugen could be heard choking on the stew his mother was making. Those were the kinds of questions he was hoping to avoid. Those and ones asking if her little boy had ever killed a man.

Oh, no, had he offended Jin Ho? From the way the other man had winced and looked away, it was apparent that he might have, and his heart fell. He didn't want to sound like he was making fun of the Park family's customs, but as far as he knew, reverence of hair wasn't common among Earthbenders. Maybe it was a Metalbender thing; who knew?

Thankfully, Jin Ho thought his proposal of drying his hair was an excellent idea, and he couldn't help but smile. It seemed like something the other man hadn't even considered, despite the fact that Mizu had stated that he possessed certain...talents, but it didn't surprise the Waterbender. Nobody but Waterbenders tended to see how the art could be used for more than battle; but there were really some ingenious uses for it. Who knew? When Mizu was older and cared more about becoming something like the Master his parents had wanted him to be, he might make up some bending technique the world had never seen. Right now, though it needed to be applied to something more important.

I'll just... comb it out, and then you can — help me?

"Sound great." Smiling, he took the "comb it out" as a cue to close his eyes, which he did. The world went dark, but he could sense the water running through the pipes in the apartment and, more importantly, the high concentration of water in Jin Ho's hair. How long had it been since the man had washed it? It seemed like it was still as wet as it was when he had come out of the shower.

All right. I — I guess it's fine now?

He was so tempted to open his eyes, to see Jin Ho with his long hair down, but he couldn't. He couldn't break a trust that the man had given him to do this important task, or potentially ruin any chances he had with the man. It would be tantamount to someone stealing his Fire Berry Wine.

Clearing his throat, he locked onto the cool chi of the liquid held in the hair and held out his left hand, palm-up; with his right, he faced the palm toward the main source of the chi in the room and began gently coaxing it out from the individual hairs. It was amazing, being able to Waterbend "blind," but he held his excitement in lieu of focus on the task at hand. Gently, he streamed the water from Jin Ho's hair into the space above his hand, where he kept it cohesed into a ball. The chi he felt pooled in his hand (no pun intended) and when he couldn't feel it in the other man's hair anymore, he dispersed the liquid he'd created into a mist that scattered in the air around the room. It wouldn't make any difference in the room's humidity, but from what he could tell, what he'd done had made a noticeable difference in the humidity on Jin Ho's head.

"Okay, I'm done. Let me know when it's okay to open my eyes again."

Jin Ho's Apartment

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Having the water bent out of his hair was such a surreal experience. Jin Ho closed his eyes, hugging his knees to his chest. The heavy weight of his hair slowly lightened as Mizu pulled the water out. Before long he was left with only the familiar weight of dry hair, and he put a hand up to it, pulling his fingers through experimentally. His hair was smooth and dry. It was incredible. Usually he had to wait hours! “Wow,” Jin Ho breathed, “if I was a Waterbender I could do this every day.” There was a sense of wonder to his voice.

"Okay, I'm done. Let me know when it's okay to open my eyes again."

Quickly, the Metalbender pulled his hair back between his hands, separating it into three equal sections. Crossing them one over the other, he nimbly braided down the length. He was well-practiced in this plain and simple braid, so it hardly took much time at all. Flipping the end around over his shoulder, he secured it with a green tie. “Okay,” he said. “I’m done.”

It was nice of Mizu to wait to open his eyes, and Jin Ho was tempted to say how much he appreciated it – but at the same time, he still felt awkward, so decided it might be best not to mention it further. “Thank you,” he said instead. “It’s amazing. I usually have to wait forever.” He smiled and, after hesitating a moment, scooted closer to the Waterbender on the sofa. Was the other man tired now? Would he be rude to ask again? If Mizu wanted to keep reading, Jin Ho didn’t want to disturb him… but he felt a bit worn out. He was definitely spent emotionally.

Jin Ho knew that Mizu was probably still uncomfortable from all the crying. He felt guilty about it, but didn’t know how to make it up him. In any case, sitting awkwardly next to him wasn’t going signal an apology. Making up his mind and steeling his resolve, Jin Ho curled up closer to Mizu’s side, closing his eyes. “Thank you,” he said. “I know you’re – it’s probably really uncomfortable for you to be here. But I really appreciate it. I… I hope you know how much I appreciate it.”

He looked calm on the outside, but inside Jin Ho was a bit frantic. Please don’t reject me, he thought. He couldn’t put himself out there much farther.

He seemed so disappointed in her. Mr. Yuan was giving her a sense that only her father had ever instilled in her (though he tended to do it frequently): shame. The firebender wiped her cheeks again. They'd be flushed and red, she knew, but she had to look at least okay while they walked.

Dragon Flats was known for its roughness. Yuriko herself avoided it - that is to say, she'd never even wandered near the border. Too many thieves and killers, her father said, among worse things. But their little stand was a bit too close regardless. Those boys that came just this morning were proof of that. Though the occurrence happened only hours ago, it felt like it was a dream. As they walked, Yuriko felt that even her recent firebending wasn't real - just some horrible nightmare.

When Mugan made for a quite run-down apartment, she was frankly shocked. For a man to live in such a place despite being able to give money away to a random stranger... Mugen grasped her wrist, something that made her start, but she didn't struggle or stop. At this point, she had to trust him. She'd ruined his coat, and yet he was about to buy her dinner. She wondered how he could possibly have another dress for her. And she was about to ask him why he lived in this rundown basement when a voice came out and a woman emerged. To her surprise, the voice came from Mr. Yuan.

"Mama?" he said almost quietly. She saw him tense beside her when the woman began to speak. For a moment she couldn't understand the woman. It was as if she spoke in a different language. But then Yuriko began to realize that it was an accent, heavy and drawling. The woman smiled and noticed Yuriko.

Her name was Ziu, and she moved to help Yuriko down the rest of the stairs. "We'll get'cha outta those clothes and some food in ya," she said cheerfully. Yuriko couldn't help but smile from the kindness. "Thank you, Mrs. Yuan," she said softly with a bow of her head.

There was a crude partition in the basement, creating separate rooms. Yuriko knew it was impolite to stare, so she looked around, trying to take in the room while eying Mrs. Yuan and her son. They seemed as different as night and day. Suddenly, a green thing came at her, and she managed to catch it. It felt so soft and smooth beneath her palms that at first she thought she was holding water, miraculously. But then she realized it was a kimono, light green, made of silk, and 100% beautiful. It was all she could do to keep from gaping.

The woman suddenly said, "How long ya been seein' each other?" Yuriko heard a sputtering from the other side of the sheet, supposedly Mr. Yuan getting chocked up. The question was unwarranted and very strange, but Yuriko knew that Mrs. Yuan had no idea what was going on between the two.

She slipped out of her cotton dress shyly, turning her back on the strange woman. "Oh, no," she said quietly. "No, ma'am, we only just met this morning. He wanted to see me firebend." She left her white little shift on underneath as she shrugged into the beautifully soft kimono. It was a similar green color as her own cotton dress, but infinitely nicer and more elegant. She combed the tangles from her curls with her fingers. The hair rasped against her scraped palms.

She looked up at Mrs. Yuan. "We really did just meet."

When he finally opened his eyes, he let out a relieved breath when he saw Jin Ho's hair in a braid. It would have been a dirty trick to tell him to open his eyes and then still have hair down, wouldn't it? Then again, the cop wasn't that kind of person who would do that kind of thing, so what was he worrying about? He blushed and brushed a strand of his own hair behind his ears.

Thank you. It’s amazing. I usually have to wait forever.

Mizu smiled. "You're welcome. I don't usually get to use my bending like that, so it was pretty amazing for me, too." The most he really used his bending for at all was to clean up the occasional spill at the bar (the regulars didn't let much liquor slop onto the bar as one might think), which meant that most of the time, he wasn't bending; it made him sad when he'd heard about people like Katara and Pakku, and of things like Bloodbending, which was illegal in Republic City. The thought of the...art...sent chills through his core.

"Besides, I love the smell of whatever it was you washed your hair with. My mother used to use a citrus face cream that kind of smells like that." This was his way of expressing appreciation; for the home-cooked meal, for the smell, for the company, all things that reminded him of his mother. He hadn't seen her in years, and he wondered if she was even alive. If he got the time, he resolved to try and find that out.

Jin Ho moving closer surprised him, but his arm curled instinctively around the other man when the officer scooted closer. The citrus scent was intense, but welcome.

Thank you. I know you’re – it’s probably really uncomfortable for you to be here. But I really appreciate it. I… I hope you know how much I appreciate it.

Mizu cleared his throat. "I know how much you appreciate it, and...I'm not uncomfortable to be here. If anything, I'm uncomfortable because I'm worried that I'm not doing this right, if that makes any sense." His chest felt lighter upon this revelation, and his fingers went under Jin Ho's chin to tilt the man's head up. He bridged the gap between them and gently placed his lips on the other man's offering substantially less intensity, but immesnse comfort.

Jin Ho's Apartment

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When the Waterbender curled his arm about Jin Ho, the man inwardly rejoiced just a little. He wasn't moving away! And he thought he smelled good!

"Besides, I love the smell of whatever it was you washed your hair with. My mother used to use a citrus face cream that kind of smells like that."

"Oh," said Jin Ho, "it's yuzu." He blushed a little, the colour bright on his pale skin. "I have to buy soap for my hair a lot so I always change it around... Last time I bought one that smelled like cake and I was so sick of it by the time it was gone. This time it's yuzu. I thought it was refreshing, or something." This was the first time the other man had really mentioned his family. Jin Ho knew they weren't close, but it still made him a little sad. Did Mizu have fond memories of his mother? Was he happy, to be reminded of her? "I — hope that's a good thing," he said, unsure.

Mizu was warm and the night air seemed almost a bit chilled to Jin Ho. He was surprised to hear him say that he wasn't uncomfortable to be there. Really?

"I'm uncomfortable because I'm worried that I'm not doing this right, if that makes any sense."

Oh. Jin Ho didn't have any experience with things like this. He had never experienced the death of someone he loved deeply, and he'd certainly never had a man he liked in his house. In every way possible, he was definitely out of his element. How would he know whether or not Mizu was doing it right? Just being there was such a nice thing to do he almost didn't know how to repay the other man. Opening his mouth to say so, he was surprised and stopped by the Waterbender's gentle kiss.

Without thinking, Jin Ho leaned in, sliding one arm around Mizu's waist to curl closer up to him. It wasn't intense or hot-and-heavy. It was... sweet. Jin Ho was, romantically speaking, a very sweet person. He worried always about pleasing the other person, which was likely why he and Hoshi had managed to make things work as long as they had. The feeling of wanting more and being scared to ask for it, but excited at the same time, was new to him. Being with someone who had strong arms and a comforting presence — in the way only a man could be — was new to him. But it was perfect, and it was exactly what he needed.

When he pulled away, he sighed a little. "Do you maybe want to go to bed?" he asked. The emotional gauntlet of the day was wearing on him, and the metalbender felt drained. Of course, if Mizu would rather stay on the sofa and kiss him some more, he'd not say no.

Mugen wished that his mother could be paid to know whenever he tried to fish out the bits of possum chicken. It would have been a lucrative career as that sixth sense never seemed to fail her. Before he could bring the spoon of meat up to his mouth his mother told him to check on the cooking rice and set the table.
As always, when it came to his mother, Mugen did as he was told.

The fragile, gray bowls bended from earth were typically used as disposable containers for take out food at some restaraunts. To Ziu with some care they were free bowls that could last for months. Mugen set out three of them along with smaller bowls filled with white rice.

With only one small window in the basement heat from the stove couldn't escape making things a bit too warm but it also meant that the smell of Ziu stew would not grace any outside noses. The last thing Mugen wanted was to draw people here with an intoxicating smell.
Ziu placed a large pitcher of iced tea in the middle along with mismatched glasses. Next to the tea was a bottle of slightly milky white liquid.
Mugen gestured toward the milky substance.
"Rice wine. She brings it out for special occassions."
The wine and letting Yuriko wear her finest garment told Mugen that his mother was looking to impress. She never said it but it was obvious that Ziu wouldn't mind if her son found a nice girl. He wished he could explain to her that for the most part he didn't think about other people unless they were a source of income or information.

It wasn't until after finishing his first bowl of stew that Mugen remembered he had promised to take Yuriko out for a meal.
"Tell us about yourself, hon," Ziu said to Yuriko.
"Ma, she's had a hard day. We got mugged before coming here.
"You been hanging around bad people, Mugen?"
It would have been funny if it wasn't such a scary question.
"...So, Yuriko. Tell us about working in a flower shop." Mugen shot the young lady a pleading look.

It's yuzu.

Mizu's eyes lit up again. "I knew I knew that smell from somewhere! My mother used yuzu face cream!" It was remarkable how the little things could remind one of very significant things from the past. "And it's definitely a good thing. My mother was a good woman. She was a great woman, but I haven't talked to her for almost ten years." His face fell, but that quickly cleared. Yes, he missed her, but it wasn't like she or his father had made an effort to actually contact him, even though he hadn't moved since two years after he left home.

His longing to find out what had happened to his parents in the years he'd been gone was erased when Jin Ho cuddled up to him. The man had a profound effect on him; it soothed him, made him actually care that there were people in the world who weren't Jiro or Nakura. It was an odd feeling, but he liked it.

Do you maybe want to go to bed?

His eyes went wide for a moment, but he smiled. Their closeness brought his intense physical attraction to Jin Ho to his attention, but a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest tamed what would normally be a roaring dragon. His libido had led to some dangerous liasons in the past, and he could sleep soundly knowing that this wasn't the case with the policeman. It almost seemed like sex would ruin what promised to be a great relationship, regardless of its form, so the fact that he was able to keep his hands from ripping Jin Ho's clothing off made his smile widen.

"I think that would be nice." He leaned his head down and brought their lips together again; a sweeping warmth washed over him like a wave, and when he pulled back, he couldn't help but stare into the other man's eyes again. Yue, how he wanted to dive in and never surface.

Jin Ho's Apartment

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Maybe he should try to find Mizu's parents for him. The idea surfaced in Jin Ho's mind gently. It wouldn't be appropriate to contact them, but he could give their information to Mizu. If the man missed them, maybe he would want it. It would at least give him an option! The policeman made a mental note before his brain was entirely too busy with kissing for anything else.

"I think that would be nice."

When Mizu leaned in and kissed him again, the metalbender sighed softly. His hand slid up, stopping at the back of the waterbender's neck. Jin Ho wanted to wind his fingers into Mizu's hair so badly... but they weren't at that point, right? The temptation was very strong, though, so he ended up pulling away, blushing. "All right. I — I'll just make sure the bed isn't destroyed, then," he said. He tended to toss and turn and sometimes not make the bed in the morning. Getting up, the young man went back to his bedroom and hastily cleaned up a little, straightening out the sheets and putting a pillow back on the other side of the bed. He'd thrown it during the night.

Jin Ho's bedroom was painted a soft, silvery grey, and its walls seemed luminous in moonlight. He always slept with a curtain open so that it wouldn't be too dark — it was easier to go back to sleep after he woke up afraid if he could see. The bed took up a lot of the space in the room with its metal frame and dark grey sheets. Another quilt was thrown across it, hastily unwound from a blanket cocoon leftover from the night before. A book sat on the nightstand next to the window, a random biography of Toph Bei Fong. The bedroom was a very simple room, kept that way to avoid anything frightening when waking up from an awful dream. It was mostly a bed and the wardrobe, whose doors remained closed.

Jin Ho looked up when Mizu entered the bedroom, and smiled nervously. "I, um. Is it okay with you if I take my shirt off?" He looked embarrassed and cleared his throat. "It's just that I never sleep in one because the neck feels like it's choking me when I'm sleeping — and with the dreams and all..." He'd more than once ripped the neck of a shirt when trying to sleep in it. Now he didn't even bother trying. Toying with the end of his braid, Jin Ho chewed his lower lip. He didn't want to make Mizu uncomfortable, but sleeping in a shirt would definitely make the dreams worse. He didn't want that, either!

As Mr. Yuan was given some directions by his mother, Yuriko stepped out from behind the partition. A wave of warmth and rich smells flushed her cheeks. It smelled like stew, and that stew smelled good. The heat didn't bother her: the kimono silk was incredibly light and airy, and didn't cling to her like cotton did. The small family set the table quickly, like they knew the practice well. Yuriko was the same way. She cooked and cleaned and set the table. It wasn't hard, and with enough practice you could do it quickly.

Still she gratefully thanked her hosts. If this was the dinner that Mr. Yuan had in mind, Yuriko was more than content for it. The 19-year-old sat demurely, smoothing the skirt beneath her fingers and clasping her hands on her lap. Mrs. Yuan set down a couple of beverages, and Mr. Yuan elaborated. "Rice wine. She brings it out for special occasions."

Yuriko nodded, though she'd never tried the stuff. Tonight she'd take a sip or two out of curiosity, but it wouldn't do to come home drunk. Not at all. She reached for the wine and poured a trickle into her little cup. Enough for a large mouthful, but not too much. "Thank you very much," she said with a smile, and used both hands (as if drinking hot tea) to sip the wine. It was surprisingly warm, and a bit strong, but as she held it on her tongue, she found it had a sweet aroma and made a pleasant tingling. She swallowed and felt dull warmth spread above her neck to her cheeks.

It was quite nice.

As she was served a bowl of stew, she found that the rice wine went exceptionally well with it, though she couldn't place why. It had bits of meat in it that were neither fishy nor fatty. Instead, it was very savory and had swallowed the broth of the stew like a sponge. It was very good, and Yuriko couldn't help herself but to eat more. There were even big chunks of tender vegetables, which she ate just as heartily. Soon enough, she had refilled her cup from the rice wine pitcher, and found she loved the flavor.

After half of her stew and rice were gone, she realized how quickly she was eating, and dabbed at her lips with a napkin. Thankfully, there seemed to be a lull in the meal anyway. Mrs. Yuan said, "Tell us about yourself, hon."

Yuriko was thinking about a response — her head was growing just a bit fuzzy — when Mr. Yuan broke in, telling his mother vaguely about that afternoon. The firebender flushed slightly, hoping she wouldn't have to talk about her accident. But then Mr. Yuan seemed to save her. "...So, Yuriko. Tell us about working in a flower shop."

She smiled and took another small sip of the wine. It really was quite good, and she could tell Mr. Yuan really wanted her to talk. "Well, it's owned by my father. I'm his heir and will have to run it someday, so he's been teaching me how it works for a while." She rubbed her hands together under the table. "He's been teaching me how to tend the gardens and how to speak with customers."

She took another sip and flattened a curl absently. "Sometimes business can be bad, but it's a good job. My da-- father pays me, so I can buy myself some treats every once in a while."

The alcohol made her feel more at ease, and it seemed like even Mr. Yuan's cold eyes were thawing. She heard some chatter out the window as a person walked by. "Mister-- I mean Mugen -" (the personal name was a bit strange on her tongue) "- ran into me while I was getting off work, and he offered to bring me here."

It was a blatant lie, but it came to her very easily, as if it was truth. Or maybe she wanted it to be. Maybe Yuriko imagined it up like a dream that never happened, like Mr. Yuan (or should she call him Mugen?) had come up to her all warmth and smiles, wooed her with kind words, and then put his arm around her waist and led her home to meet his mother. It wasn't so, but the idea was nice.

The room grew warmer around her.

All right. I — I'll just make sure the bed isn't destroyed, then.

Mizu smiled as the other man left the room, and his eyes drifted to the cover of Siege of the North. How could he have found another person in the world who was as interested in books about war as he was? And a cop, at that? He almost couldn't believe it, but then again, things happened in the world that he couldn't believe sometimes, like his meeting Mr. Chien.

After a couple minutes, he got up and walked down the hallway where he'd seen Jin Ho go; he paused just outside the bedroom's threshold. Was he really about to go into the officer's bedroom, albeit under different circumstances than ones that normally led to a man's bedroom. It was weird, but not unwelcome.

He smiled as he entered the room; the shimmering walls made the bedroom more alluring in a good way. He'd never seen a room painted a color like that. Icy eyes caught a glimpse of a book by the bed's side, and he immediately recognized the woman on the cover as the same one who had a statue that bore her likeness at the police headquarters. She had, he'd been taught, been one of the, if not the, best Earthbenders of all time, for she'd been the one to introduce Metalbending to the world. Perhaps his parents weren't so crazy for pushing him like they did.

I, um. Is it okay with you if I take my shirt off?

Mizu blushed furiously. "Whatever's comfortable. I...I was going to ask you if it was okay if I did that, but...you know...I didn't know if it was a good idea. I'm here to make sure..." He paused to swallow a lump in his throat. "...to make sure that you're okay, and..."

Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. FOR THE LOVE OF AVATAR KORRA, SHUT UP!

The little voice in the back of his mind was practically screaming at him and, if it had been a person, it would have been beating the snot out of him.

"So I'm okay if you do. Y'know...if you're okay if I do." He gave Jin Ho a weak smile. Damn his conflicting emotions. On one hand, he had absolutely no problem if Jin Ho took his shirt off, but was he okay if the other man was okay with him taking his off?

There were times that even Mugen underestimated his mother. A sunny disposition, thick accent and low paying jobs had a way of painting someone as a rube. Then Ziu would grin like the only person in the room in on a secret and Mugen would feel like the rube. His mother couldn't read words but she could read people.
"Ya sure like them firebendin' gals, don'cha, Mugen?"
Mugen's throat seized. Once again he was reminded that his ability to read a mark was not inherited from his absentee father but from his sweet-as-sugar mother. Suddenly, Mugen was thirteen again and being teased about girls. It was supposed to be a quiet place to change clothes and calm down, not an exhibition of his vulnerabilities.

He was glad Yuriko didn't mention the mugging or that Mugen stood on the man's arms while he burned. Not talking about being mugged was natural.
"I just like firebendin', mama," he said far too meekly for his taste.
To his surprise Mugen's mother did not start with humiliating stories about Mugen trying desperately to bend at a young age. Instead she smiled and bluntly suggested that after they eat Mugen should sing.

A low moan and grinding of teeth proceeded Ziu's suggestion. Both knew that the origin of Mugen's vocal prowess would have to be told. If he didn't pick up where his mother left off Mugen knew that the conversation may be steered in even worse directions.
"I was apprenticed to a troupe of actors when I was younger." He sighed when it was apparent he would have to go on. "I saw a street performance of a play...the name escapes me, but I was struck with awe. I didn't want to become an actor but I wanted to learn how a person could become someone else."
Mugen shifted his gaze away from Yuriko, afraid of how he might react if he noticed any snickering.
"I learned to act, sing and stage fight. My acrobatics didn't reach an acceptable level before I went on to other things, though." He was sure that Yuriko would know that 'other things' meant crime.
"I couldn't make money acting so I took on odd jobs to pay for school."

While cleaning the table Ziu apologized for not having any sort of dessert and disappeared behind the curtain dividing the basement into two rooms. He knew that if he kept his voice low he could do some apologizing of his own.
"Apologies. I only meant to change clothes and rest a while and take you to a restaurant. You'll have to forgive my mother her indulgences. I don't bring guests here...for obvious reasons." Yuriko hardly seemed the type to use Ziu against Mugen but even the slimmest chance was too much for the young man.
He couldn't help but wonder how Yuriko would react if she knew how much blood would be shed if that one woman in her thirties were to become a victim of crime.

Jin Ho's Apartment

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Even though the Waterbender's speech was somewhat hesitant, Jin Ho didn't really hear it that way. He focused more on what was being said, rather than how the other man said it.

"Whatever's comfortable. I was going to ask you if it was okay if I did that, but I didn't know if it was a good idea. I'm here to make sure that you're okay, and..."

"Oh," Jin Ho breathed, "good." What a relief. As for Mizu having his shirt off, well — "I don't care if you never wear a shirt again," he said, without realizing he'd spoken his thought aloud. Then, blushing brightly, the young officer whirled around to face away from Mizu. Spirits! Get a filter! How ridiculously embarrassing! "I — I mean — I don't mind! It's fine!" Rubbing at his head for a moment he sighed before just taking hold of the hem of his shirt and pulling it off. As he did so, in a slightly muffled voice he went on.

"It's just too hot to sleep in clothes in the summer time, isn't it? I mean, I never do because I feel like I'm stuck in mud or something, but —" the shirt came all the way off, now getting folded. The scar tissue from the accident was now fully visible, just next to the spine on his lower back. It was old enough to have faded to white, turning silver in the moonlight filtering through the window. It almost matched the walls — Jin Ho's skin was pale enough to suggest that someone in his family had strong Fire Nation blood. The scars from his accident matched each other, one on the neck and one on the lower back, where the vehicle's metal had stabbed into him during the wreck. He was lucky that it hadn't been even a centimeter closer to the spine! The scar tissue was thick and smooth and pulled just a little with movement, suggesting it was deep as well. Otherwise, Jin Ho's back, just like the rest of him, was muscular and reflected his attention to physical fitness.

Setting the shirt on the bedside table on top of the book, Jin Ho turned back around, smiling a little sheepishly. He pulled the covers back and sat down on the mattress. Pulling his braid back around over his shoulder, he toyed with the end. Usually he slept in nothing, but he ought to be fine in just trousers. It wouldn't hurt — he had done it before, after all. It was just the neck of a shirt that gave him more trouble. Deciding to get under the covers before he did or said anything else stupid, the young man slid beneath charcoal grey sheets and waited. The bed was pleasantly cool.

I don't care if you never wear a shirt again.

Mizu turned as red as the sun at the end of the day for a brief second, then looked back up at the Metalbender, smiling. From what had happened in the living room, he should have known that Jin Ho wouldn't mind him with his shirt off, but what threw everything off was the fact that they were about to climb into bed with each other.

It's just too hot to sleep in clothes in the summer time, isn't it? I mean, I never do because I feel like I'm stuck in mud or something, but —

Everything Jin Ho had just said was erased from the Waterbender's memory upon revelation of his back. In his head, he heard screaming, grinding metal and a sound that he couldn't even describe, and his eyes traveled along the rivulets of flesh that were lighter than the rest of the skin. He wanted so badly to reach out and touch them, but he feared that he would either offend his romantic interest or somehow experience the crash as if he was there, because that's why he had them, right? The crash he'd been in?

But then there was the rest of his body. Mizu's eyes drank Jin Ho's form in as the other man climbed into bed. Biting his lip, he took his own shirt off and dropped it on the floor by the other side of the bed, waiting for a few moments before climbing onto the bed, on top of the quilt.

"I know what you're talking about. I hate sleeping with clothes on in the summer. The city gets so hot..." He trailed off as he cast a few glances toward the other man; what exactly were they doing? His heart skipped a beat as he scooted closer to the now-shirtless Jin Ho and, holding his breath, slid his arm around the officer again. His tongue moistened his lips as he felt smooth flesh under his fingertips, and surprisingly, could feel chi moving smoothly beneath the scarred skin.

"You are an interesting person, Park Jin Ho. You're a cop, but you...care. I guess that's why you're a cop." He found the words slipping from his mouth, but the shocking thing was that it didn't feel awkward; they flowed naturally.

Jin Ho's Apartment

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Jin Ho wasn't blind — he noticed the look on Mizu's face. Flushing, he rubbed the scar on the back of his neck. "They're from the accident," he said. "I know that's what you're thinking, right? If that's what it is? So I just thought I'd tell you. It is. The metal sort of crumpled and stabbed me." It wasn't a big deal to talk about the injuries — he'd had to answer questions about them often enough that it seemed commonplace. "I don't mind answering questions about it, if you have them. I'd rather you ask me than... I don't know, just wonder about it." But he hoped that it wasn't... ugly to the other man. Jin Ho had never thought about how they might be unattractive to a potential lover because he hadn't had one, but now he found himself worried.

Thankfully, the Waterbender's removal of his shirt distracted him from his worry for a little bit. The man's darker skin tone was so smooth — it practically begged him to touch it. When the other man laid on top of the covers, Jin Ho felt a pang of disappointment. Maybe he was unattractive! How had he never worried about this before? Ah, spirits. It — but then Mizu scooted closer and slid an arm around him, and the policeman's mind shut up for a blessed moment or two.

"You are an interesting person, Park Jin Ho. You're a cop, but you...care. I guess that's why you're a cop."

Well, naturally! Jin Ho laughed in a good-natured way. "Of course I care," he said, "and yes, that's why I'm a policeman. We've been over this." He smiled, taking in the way Mizu's face looked in the moonlight. The Waterbender was taller than he was, and Jin Ho had never had the pleasure of curling up with someone whose body could be fitted to his in a supportive way. Taking advantage of it, he tucked his head down against the other man's collarbone, forehead by Mizu's neck. It was a comforting feeling. Mizu's skin was warm and Jin Ho wound his other arm around him, closing his eyes.

He let out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry in advance," he said, "in case I — do something stupid." Like wake the man up screaming bloody murder, for instance. Or kick him. Jin Ho wasn't sure if he kicked in his sleep or not.

They're from the accident. I know that's what you're thinking, right?

His fingers ran lightly over the raised flesh on the back of the man's neck. You have no idea what I'm thinking. For some reason, he felt himself trying to bend, trying to heal, but with no water, nothing happened. He had to remind himself that he probably wouldn't be able to heal them anyway; his parents had never mandated that part of his training growing up. Damn them. Didn't they think that the skill might be useful someday? Oh well.

"I think I know everything I need to know. I don't have a problem with them, if you're worried about that. I think..." He took a deep breath. "I think you're beautiful." What had he just said? He blushed furiously when his words registered in his brain, but he looked back up at the other man. He started to wonder if he was being too forward again, but he'd started to figure that whenever he felt like he was, he probably wasn't. His track record since they'd met spoke volumes on that matter.

That's why I'm a policeman. We've been over this.

The Waterbender smiled. "I know, I just like hearing you talk, for some reason." He brushed a strand of hair behind his ear again, making a mental note to get a haircut in the next week or so. The minor irritation vanished when Jin Ho slid an arm under his back; the feeling of the Earthbender's bare flesh on his own was exquisite. He couldn't have ever believed that he'd enjoy this more than some of the more intimate moments of his life (sans the intimacy; on the emotional level, at least), but he was, and he took a deep, calming breath in and let it go.

I'm sorry in advance in case I — do something stupid.

Mizu's brow knit. "Stupid? Like the nightmares?" He placed his hand on Jin Ho's shoulder as his arm snaked around the other man's body. "Don't even worry about it. I've got a lot to think about, so I'll probably be up all night. Plus, I haven't been drinking, so...yeah. I'll probably be up." The truth was that, at some point between his arrival and the present, he'd resolved to stay up all night to make sure he could comfort Jin Ho should he have nightmares. Not that he'd expected to get into the man's bed, but...

Jin Ho's Apartment

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"I think you're beautiful."

The Metalbender blushed, not sure of what to say. He considered himself average – just fine, nothing special, not bad. Mizu, on the other hand, was strikingly beautiful. It seemed odd to hear someone say that about him. Jin Ho had never considered it. “Thank you,” he said. The fact that he found the Waterbender attractive was constantly mirrored in his eyes. “I… you know I think the same about you.”

“I just like hearing you talk, for some reason."

What a nice thing to say. Jin Ho smiled, happy to hear it. “I like hearing you talk, too,” he said. “I’d like to know everything about you.” But maybe not at that exact moment, when he was so warm and so comfortable. The feeling of being held by someone else was soothing. While he never really felt unsafe at home, there was a new and different kind of security to being so snuggled up to someone else.

"Don't even worry about it … I'll probably be up."

“Okay.” Worn out from the crying and the emotional gauntlet of the day, Jin Ho soon began to fall asleep, breathing slowing into a smooth, quiet rhythm. He had been asleep at least an hour before the dreaming came upon him, furrowing his brow and tightening his grip on the other man. His fingers twitched, compulsively tightening and then releasing just as quickly. He was blessedly quiet, though, at least in the beginning.

There was just so much blood. As he opened his eyes, he registered a searing pain in his neck. Putting his hand back, Jin Ho touched metal and pulled away instantly. The blood bloomed like roses on his fingertips. He was injured. Frightened, he cast a glance to the side, trying not to move his head. The metal in his neck grated on muscle and he whimpered.

The whimper echoed in reality.

The driver was slumped over the wheel, bleeding over the face. Jin Ho put a hand out – who was it? Who was driving?
Not Jin Ho. He didn’t know how to drive.
The driver didn’t respond to his nudges, so he pushed harder.

In his sleep, Jin Ho pushed Mizu away almost violently, turning over on the pillow. His breathing became fast and distressed.

It was hot, too hot, and the sound of fire licked into his hearing with terrifying proximity. The blood was everywhere. Why was the blood everywhere?
He pushed at the driver again. Wake up.
The acrid smell of burning hair choked him. The immobile driver’s clothing began to smoke, and Jin Ho panicked, shoving at them again. Slumping to the side, head turning on a dead neck, the driver’s sightless eyes stared at him.
Blue eyes.

“No—!” he tossed his head in his sleep.

He had to get out of the vehicle. He would burn to death – he had to get out. Shoving at the door, he wept as it refused to give. The metal burned his hand.
“Please –“ ignoring the burning in his neck, Jin Ho shoved the door again. It finally collapsed under his weight and he let out a moan of relief, leaning into the open space –
Only to be stopped by an iron-like grip on his wrist.
The corpse smiled, tightening its grip on his wrist, and he screamed.

It was an almost animal-like sound, terrified and haunting. In the window, curtains fluttered lazily with the breeze.