9. Troubles of the Bard

Look at all the lonely hearts
Shivering out in the dark
Hiding from the truth
Cover up the proof

Zuko had never run from his problems, and he was an idiot for it. Had he run, at least once, at least from this one problem, perhaps things could have been different.

Yet his father's fist slammed into him, over and over and over again. And when he fell to the cobblestones in front of their house it was his father's feet instead, the bottle in his hand, which eventually broke, and great slashes were landed across his back and shoulders. Zuko had run through this routine time and time again with his father, ever since his mother had died.

His sister was never touched, and despite her blatant hate of her brother, he was glad for this. She, no matter how much she acted as if, or truly did, despise him, was still his younger sibling. And Zuko's heart, as pure and kind as it had been when he was just a child, wouldn't allow him to wish this fate on anyone else.

The routine was never broken, it was always about the same thing. Some nights the routine was shorter than others, but it always happened, at least on hit, one kick, one cut, one more scar or bruise he would just explain away. Because he would never tell the truth, and he would never run away from what happened to him, because he just was not that kind of person. He cursed himself for being such a way, but it could not be changed at eighteen years old. It was far too late for that.

Demons that I try to hide
Imprison me in my own lies
And all that I can do
Is cover up the proof

But that night, that night something changed, that night the routine was broken, that night his whole life went spinning.

Zuko should have known that it was just a matter of time until someone figured it out. Just a matter of time until someone realized why he was always so injured, why he was in and out of the hospital without fail. Until now however, if anyone had noticed, they spoke not a word of it. Even the neighbors had taken to shutting their windows, closing the blinds, turning up the music, and ignoring the nightly ritual whenever it was taken to the streets.

But that night it was different. That night, that boy happened to be passing through the neighborhood. Zuko still didn't know why he was, perhaps he never would, but he had been there. That boy with the silver eyes and blue tattoos, skin like creamy perfection, smile like a dying rose, stance like the most beautiful tiger waiting to eat you alive.

He'd seen, it was impossible for him not to have. He'd been planning on walking down their street, that was for sure, but he had paused when he saw the crumpled form of Zuko, laying on the cobblestones, life being beaten from him for the god-knew-how-many'th time. He just stood there, he hadn't turned and left, hadn't said a word, hadn't whipped out a cell phone and called nine one one. Just stood there and watched Zuko.

His eyes never left Zuko.

Don't be afraid
To...

When Zuko's golden eyes, bright as fire, closed as bank safes, broken as the glass on the abandoned church floor, had met shimmering pools of deadly mercury, shining like the moon, like the blade of a knife under the starlight, he hadn't looked away. Even as he winced, scream, cried out in pain and long unmeaningful pleas for his father to stop, he couldn't look away.

And when he father was done with him, and he sat up, body long past protesting to the pain, bones uncaring to any factures, skin stretching over too many cuts, the boy simply nodded. Nodded once, and started walking again, straight past Zuko and down the street, and from that moment Zuko should have known. Known as the smell of apples and the perfect Martha-Stewart white wash house met his nose, the sound of even steps, the sight of grace like a predator all washed over him, but he didn't yet.

He would soon.

Stand up!
Stand up if you're broken
(Stand up!)
Stand up if you feel ashamed
You are not alone when you hurt this way
Stand up if you need love
This is my judgment day
You don't have to run
There's no need to hide
Everything'll be okay

The words of the song left Zuko's lips like the winter breeze dusted through old dusty attics full of memories you don't want to think about. Disturbed the dust in places you'd forgotten and chilled you to the bone in such a pleasant way it was unbearable. You wanted to run from it but you couldn't move, were bewitched by that lilting voice so close to feminine, but touching on masculine.

The song had been in a woman's voice first, but until the day they died people would swear that he sung it better. There was feeling behind those words, wretched emotions and hate filled thoughts and such self loathing you just couldn't bear to notice. Even in the crowded club, the dancing stopped and people just stared in awe at the serenely beautiful figure on the stage, as melancholy as the grave, as gorgeous as the autumn leaves just before they fall.

Zuko's tongue spoke words and his lips formed syllables without him thinking, his voice rushed from him in one great motion without his permission and he slunk away to a place where he needn't think. When h sang he could fall into the familiar lyrics, the dutiful pattern of words and melodies, he didn't need to think about it at all. His mind was troubled enough as it was, and he couldn't bear another second of it. These nights, after his father had gone to bed, after he had patched himself up, this is what he lived for. This is all he had left.

Secrets got me torn apart
Trying to destroy my heart
But I can see the light
It's cutting through the night

All eyes wee on him and Zuko drowned in their feelings, let himself go in the mass of lust admiration hate jealousy wishfulness desire WANT that pooled around him from those watching him as he sang. He needed nothing more but those looks and the thoughts he could read in their eyes, the things he wished to say back to them. When he could escape his own wishes and his thoughts, it was only then that he would truly be free. It was only now that he was truly free.

Two weeks ago last night had been the first time he had seen that boy. Silent as the wind, elusive as the summer breeze, dangerous as the slightest movement by the lion's den. He'd seen him since, but only in passing, never nothing more than a glance in his direction and the sight of those now familiar tattoos. They had never spoken, never given each other more than a look as they passed one another on the college campus (both in the place early, both smarter than they should be).

But now something was different in the gazes. Or at least, in one gaze. There was no yes no please oh god me me me want lust must have that he was used to, there was something deeper and more meaningful and something that made his heart ache. Ache as much as it did when he passed that boy in their school hallways, the way silver eyes would rake over him, brow furrowing at the sight of new injuries, evening when they were healing, full out scowling at anything worse than a few bandages.

Zuko didn't want to look, but he did, and there he was, the silver eyed boy, and Zuko would have choked on his tongue, had his lips not been moving on their own.

Don't run away
(Don't run away)
Don't be afraid
To...

The song ended, the last lines, and Zuko tried not to cry at the familiar lyrics of "Stand Up" finally ended. There was no more hiding to be done, he couldn't lurk behind his music any longer. Oh but he wished to, and he couldn't, and so now it was time to make his exit.

Most nights Zuko would lose himself in the throngs of people, sweaty bodies, dangerously curious hands, dirty words and whatever else he could find short of actual intercourse. But tonight the silver eyed boy is in the crowd, the boy who makes his blood pump faster, his heart seize up, his chest constrict, and Zuko doesn't think he can handle seeing him right now. Doesn't think he can handle it ever.

So he bows and runs offstage, into the back, where he grabs his coat, thanks the manager an leaves through the back door, praying to just get home. His remains folded in his arms, and he thinks about putting it on only he isn't really thinking about it, more momentarily contemplating it before his mind goes blank. The train is only so many yards away, it can't be so hard to reach before anything happens can it? It can.

Zuko is no more than four or five yards from the club when a sudden warmth descends upon his shoulders. His head snaps around and there is the silver eyed boy, hands now slipping into his pockets, coat around Zuko's shoulders, even though he's carrying his own, wearing nothing but a white muscle tank underneath. He smiles at Zuko, but doesn't say a word, just falls into step with him looking up at the night sky. He's taller than Zuko, and maybe a year or two younger, but he seems ageless, and Zuko wants to run.

But he can't because the instant he tries those eyes are on him and his heart won't stop thudding and his feeble escape attempt is quashed.

Stand up!
(Stand up!)
Stand up if you're broken
(Stand up!)
Stand up if you feel ashamed
You are  not alone when you hurt this way
(Stand up!)
Stand up if you need love
This is my judgment day
You don't have to run
There's no need to hide
Everything'll be okay

His apartment isn't college student sized, it's the size of someone who comes from money, but it's so modest Zuko doesn't notice. There's nothing fancy anywhere, the plates in the dish rack are earthen wear and the table looks like a hand me down antique. Everything is simple and there's a small shrine to Buddha in the living room, along with a picture of an old, smiling monk who looks like he could be related to the silver eyed boy, but you could never tell based upon photos alone. Zuko won't admit he's curious.

The boy takes their coats and hangs them in the closet, he's not expecting Zuko to leave any time soon. Zuko isn't planning too either. He smiles at Zuko again and he can feel his heart pounding a mile a minute and he's willing himself not to gasp as those eyes (those damn fucking EYES) burn straight through him.

Zuko wants to run because for the first time in such a long time, in so so so so so so long, someone can see right through him and he knows it. And they know he knows. The boy is well aware of what he's doing to the older, but more fragile male and he isn't stopping, won't stop, until he's torn down every wall between them, and that scares Zuko. Scares him more than his father, more than his peers in school, more than anything in the whole world.

You say you love me...
That's all I'll ever need...

His lips are soft, is all Zuko can think. Soft and they should be pliable, but they're not, and if they're not, they should be hot and demanding, but they're not that either. They're just there, gentle and calm, reassuring and at the same time almost possessive against Zuko's and he wonders in the world has just closed up around them so it's just them and no one else. There's no tongue in the kiss, no nips on the bottom lip, no growls of need, no purrs of want, just the slightest hint of pressure and the feel of hands holding him up, pinning him to the wall.

The boy pulls back, eyes almost glowing, smile on his face.

"Aang." is all he offers in words and Zuko can do is whisper hoarsely back;

"I know."

He'll never admit that it was the day he saw him at their college that he ran to the principle's and asked for his name. He'll never say he caved without preemption, never say it to the boy's, to Aang's, face. But somehow, he's sure Aang already knows.

Aang smiles that breathtaking smile and kisses him again, and this time there is tongue, but it's still nothing like Zuko's been kissed before.

There's no force behind it, no desire, no need for more. It's just Aang kissing him, slow and soft and gentle, like this was the most natural thing in the world for him, like kissing Zuko was the most natural thing in the world. And he couldn't break the kiss, even though some part of him screamed for him to shove Aang off and run, he just couldn't do it, and he knew he was becoming trapped.

And he hated that he didn't care.

If you say I'm good enough
That's good enough for me...!

Tears are shed that night. Tears of pain he thought he could no longer feel, of emotions so pent up inside him he had forgotten they were there. But Aang hushed all his cries, swallowed his sobs and his whimpers, washed away all feelings of hate and remorse until Zuko was back to being a bare, innocent child at the mercy of the one over him, loving him without qualm.

And yes, he's sure it's love now, even though neither of them say it and neither of them mean to even have it, but it's there and they can't deny it. Those who claim there is no love at first sight need to reevaluate their opinions, because Zuko is sure it was the first sight of those blade silver eyes, and Aang is sure it was the first catch of the broken sunset gold orbs, that got him. It hardly matters either way, because here they are now, and here they are sure to remain.

Cries of pleasure are as close to words as they come, there's no confessions of love, no affectionate words, they daren't even tease. Not tonight, not the first time. Names are all that keeps them from transcending humanity into the lands of heaven where all is euphoria, and still it is hard to tell the difference between the two. Never had Zuko been treated so softly, caressed so lightly, kissed so gently, touched so caringly. It brought tears to his eyes that Aang wiped away and kissed from his cheeks, as their feelings were realized through their bodies.

Stand up!
(Stand up!)
Stand up if you're broken!
(Stand up!)
Stand up if you feel ashamed!
You are not alone when you hurt this way
(Stand up!)
Stand up if you need love!
This is my judgment day
You don't have to hide
There's no need to run
Everything'll be okay

It is two weeks later and it's been a month since the day Zuko's life changed forever. It's been a month and routine has continued and neither he nor his love, his lover, dare say a word about it.

But tonight, tonight for a second time that routine is going to be interrupted. Tonight, once more, things are going to change, and this time, this time they won't go back to how they were. No, tonight, was the end. Tonight, Zuko stopped standing in his father's way, stopped standing tall against his sister's words, stopped taking every hit with a broken smile. Tonight was the last night.

He still can't feel the pain, still can't feel the fists, beating him down to his knees. But tonight he doesn't fall completely. Tonight he stays on his knees, raises his arms and blocks the blows he can. His eyes flicker back and forth, waiting, watching, knowing, feeling that it will be tonight. He has taken this almost all his life, but his love, his love cannot bare it.

And when silver eyes, broken shards of one way glass, ice cold as a blade frozen in the dead warrior's hands, fix on his father, soften like molten metal and turn on him, he knows this is it.

Stand up. He remembers. Stand up.

And Zuko stands, and his father is yelling, and he stands, grinning a bloody smile, eyes brighter, more alive, defiant and uncaring. His father stumbles back in shock and he turns, walks down the street, barefoot like when he'd been bodily thrown from the house, to his lover's side. His father is yelling again and Zuko can't be bothered to care as a warm arm wraps around him and for the first time in his life he walks away.

Stands up, and walks away.

(Stand up!)
If you're lonely...
(Stand up!)
Stand up if you're broken!
This is not judgment day.