Only If For a Night(MxM)

A touch of Envy

A bedraggled Zuko sat cross-legged on the counter of his kitchen, staring into nothing as he sipped his coffee from a mug that had a math joke on it that Jet didn't understand. He had only left the kid alone for as long as it took him to shower and get dressed again. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but he had worn worse before.

As he was leaving the bathroom (which was marble and expensive but the water pressure was the most fantastic thing ever). He heard the groggy man speaking conversationally with the dogs that were sprawled out on the floor, having already eaten the most expensive dog food Jet had ever seen. Even if he was going to take the dogs back, he couldn't afford the lifestyle they had grown accustomed to.

He couldn't follow the conversation because it wasn't in English.

"Did you teach my dogs Japanese?" Jet leaned against the kitchen wall, arms crossed. Zuko was still in his pajamas and about three inches away from tumbling into the sink.

"And some Chinese," he replied, not moving his head from where it was resting against the cabinet. Morning light coming through the window streamed seraphically over his face and onto his hands.

"My dogs speak more languages than I do," he grumbled to himself, stepping over the dogs to get to the coffee. He poured it into a mug that had a flaming Pokemon on it and took a sip.

"This tastes like ass," he spluttered, blanching at the dark liquid.

Zuko's tired head leaned forward to look at him, molten eyes alert despite his fatigue. "It's three hundred dollars a pound for it,"

"Well, it still tastes like ass,"

Zuko snorted and leaned back against the walnut-colored cabinet. He watched Jet wander through the kitchen, digging in the fridge for milk and the cupboards for sugar.

"I taught them new tricks, want to see?"

All he had was almond milk, and the only sugar he found was hard as a rock. "Naturally," he replied, leaning against the kitchen island.

"Smellerbee," Zuko called out drowsily, the pitbull's nubbed ears swiveling to him. "Where's lamby?" he cooed out in Japanese, and she was up in a flash, scrambling her thick body out of the kitchen and into the hall where a massive basket of dog toys was kept. She sprinted back into the kitchen, the same ragged toy that Jet had sent with four years ago hung from her mouth. She trotted up to him and rammed her nose into this thigh, smearing her drool on his fatigues.

"You kept your lamb, that's such a sweet girl," he praised, leaving the horrible coffee on the table and smooched her on the head. Her tail wagged in delight.

"I had a harder time teaching Longshot Japanese; he likes Mandarin much better,"

"He's always been a picky boy," Jet added, smirking. Zuko ignored him the best he could while his ears turned pink and called out to the Yorkie/chihuahua. "Longshot, go get me my shoes,"

The Yorkie bounced across the apartment, and the other two waited. His proud little tail wagged as he dragged in one of Jet's massive boots across the floor, grumbling and growling with the effort.

Zuko sighed. "I asked for my shoes, but I guess that'll work."

"He listens about as well as you do," Jet chuckled, trying to repress the rest of his laughter. Longshot finished yanking it into the kitchen, underneath where Zuko was sitting and jumped up, trying to get his attention.

"You did good, I guess. Here," he tossed him a treat, then one to Smellerbee who waddled back to Jet, who still held the slimy ripped up lamb in his hand. Some of the holes had been hand-sewn back together, the thought and effort put into it heavily outweighed the lumpy outcome.