Work Text:
Hot air stirs the fine hair at the nape of Katara's neck. She rolls her head forward, and looks at Aang from beneath half-lowered lids. He is studying the heavy clouds of steam above them with rapt attention, very obviously not looking at Katara.
Katara closes her eyes. Air currents tease at the edge of Katara's towel. Her skin is hot, her thighs damp. Katara's legs part. Across the small room Aang whistles with casual innocence; his breath is warm and quick between Katara's thighs.
She bends Aang to his knees with a crooked finger and a slow smile.