Fumbling in the darkness, the moon looking the other way, they danced the way two lovers did. Clothes off and scars visible on both of them― for the both had many, many scars, large and small from fire and lightning and everything in between― if it weren't for the darkness that enveloped the night. There were no stars in the sky; the city behind them polluted the sky like a Fire Nation factory. But they had done this many a night, they knew each others' bodies well enough to once undressed make love.

Make love. Because. Because that is what it was, making love, not fucking or having sex or anything like that. And they have loved each other. They've loved each other for a long time, even if they did not realise it, even if it seemed otherwise. Because they had always needed each other, whether they knew or liked it or not.

Uncle had always known.

And so there they were, two lovers out in the open, no secret tunnels involved, at the foot of the statue of one of them. Aang's back was pushed against the cold hard rock of the statue, his tongue dancing with Zuko's in a passionate kiss that only few people could ever experience a similar one in their lives. Fumbling with clothes, shirts being lifted up and pants being lifted down. They broke apart for a few seconds to get rid of the garments on the upper halves of their body. They had to make sure none of the fabric ripped. The escapades were clandestine; they had wives and children and neither of them could risk any of that.

Sometimes, though, they wondered if people noticed the way they looked at each other from time to time, the knowing grins and the glints in their eyes.

They had been doing this for years and years on end since they had become adults, grown up and matured in every way. They had changed physically and they had grown emotionally, becoming attached to the other and at night slipping away into the darkness, giving their wives some excuse for why they had to leave. Always on the new moon, when the glowing white light was facing away from them, always when they visited each other in Republic City and the Fire Nation capitol.

Afterward, they laid in the grass, side-by-side, and the Avatar ran his fingers down Zuko's face and chest feeling the scars that once meant a loss of honour and now meant honour gained.

It was necessary. It was an addiction. But addictions are hard to break, and neither of them wanted to anyway.