Chapter Text
Damn, Sokka wasn’t kidding. Zuko has to tilt his head upward to meet Aang’s eyes.
He almost doesn’t recognize him when he first sees him—obviously, he knows there is no other person in the world with Airbending mastery tattoos so it HAS to be him (and if he thinks about that too long he will spiral)—but... holy shit. He’s so... big.
Not even just because he’s taller; he looks like a young man now. His face is older. He carries himself with more purpose. Zuko does the math to remember how old they both are, and realizes Aang’s nearly as old as Zuko was when they first met.
That makes his eyes well up a little bit, and he lets one tear escape while they embrace, his face hidden from anyone else. He’s so used to always being the tallest and/or biggest person in a room; it’s strange to receive a hug where he’s reaching over rather than under. Especially when the person he’s hugging used to be so small. He starts to understand Iroh a little bit more.
“Sorry I couldn’t come sooner,” Aang apologizes when he pulls away from the hug. “You’ve been doing a great job over here, though! Everywhere I’ve been to, people are talking about how great the new Firelord is,” he recounts, beaming with pride.
He blinks. “Seriously? Someone said that?”
Aang nods. “You’re doing really good! You and Sokka both. Is he here?”
He smiles at the mention of the Ambassador. “He is, yeah. No, trust me, he’s why they’re all saying that.”
And before Aang can assure him it is a group effort, their attention is quickly drawn to the sudden loud call from behind Zuko.
“AANG!!!!” echoes throughout the palace, coming from an incredibly excited Sokka, barreling down the hallway.
Within seconds, Zuko is overwhelmed with a blur of blue and brown that nearly tackles Aang to the ground.
“SOKKA!!!!” Aang shouts just as eagerly, squeezing the other boy as tight as possible.
“What took you so long!!!!” Sokka finally lets go and gets a good look at him— up at him. “And can you stop getting even taller???”
The Avatar chuckles. “You might just be getting shorter, bud.”
Zuko can’t stifle his laugh quick enough.
“Whatever.” Sokka adjusts himself, nose turned up. “Where’s my sister?”
“Oh, she… uh… That’s weird… she should be here…”
Zuko then catches the girl in question in the corner of his eye, sneaking through the doorway, tiptoeing towards Sokka who has his back turned. She makes eye contact with him and ferociously brings a finger to her lips. Aang looks to him, biting his lip hard.
“That is weird,” he agrees, fighting off a grin like his life depends on it.
Sokka’s face scrunches, immediately picking up on the shift in the room. “Why are you… what’s…”
“SURPRISE!!!!” Katara pounces on him before he can turn around, scaring the daylights out of him and knocking him to the floor.
Sokka yelps with surprise, then squeezes his sister as tightly as possible once he registers everything going on. “Fuck, I missed you!!” he says into her shoulder.
It takes a moment for the siblings to finally let go, with a couple more tosses and turns, then stand back up, dusting themselves off.
His eyes immediately go to Aang, glaring at him like they hadn’t just had the exact same reunion moments ago. “You better be treating her right,” he threatens.
This makes the nomad immediately snap to attention. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” he insists, then nods his head for good measure.
Katara can’t help but snort. “Yknow, it really doesn’t have the same effect when you’re a head shorter than him,” she quips, crossing her arms and admiring the spectacle.
Her brother sputters. “Yes it does! What does height have to do with anything?”
And oh, Zuko wishes he could just live in this forever. United with his closest friends, busting each other’s chops and smiling until their faces hurt.
He feels so much younger. He’s sure the others do, too.
-
“So…” Katara starts once she has a moment alone with her brother, “You and Zuko.”
They’re sat in the courtyard by the pond, the waterbender giving the turtleducklings a little show with some cute tricks she’s taught herself. Which makes her first words since they sat down baffle Sokka just that much more.
“...Me and Zuko,” Sokka parrots apprehensively, not a clue where this is going.
She looks around just to be sure there’s no one else around, then continues. “You two have a really… special bond, don’t you?”
His eyes narrow. “Yeah, I guess we do. We’re pretty close now, why?”
He grows more confused as a devious grin slowly spreads across his sister’s face, while she continues to not explain herself.
“What? Do you know something I don’t? Does he hate me or something? Is he plotting something? Am I about to be fired? Are you two in cahoots??”
“You like him,” is all she says, still grinning.
He furrows his brow further, still not quite getting it. “Yeah I like him, he’s a cool dude.”
“No, Sokka…” She leans in even more, her eyes getting bigger as well as her smile. “You like Zuko.”
Sokka blinks. Then blinks again.
.
…
……
What.
He’s rendered speechless for a good solid minute, with only nonverbal scoffs or laughs or sputters, each getting higher than the last one, trying to comprehend what the hell, why the hell, how the hell his sister thinks this,
“You… you need to stop reading so many romance books,” he finally says, following another spurt of laughter. “What possibly makes you think I like Zuko??”
She raises her eyebrows, unamused, unconvinced. “Oh, come on. I’ve only seen you look at Suki, Haru, and Yue the way you look at Zuko.”
That knocks even more wind out of him. “What the hell? When did I ever look at Haru like that—” He cuts himself off, seeing Katara’s grin grow more devious and realizing his mistake. “....or Zuko!” he adds desperately. “When did I look at either of them like that??”
“Why was Zuko an afterthought?” she prods, grin growing impossibly more smug. “Because you know you really do look at Zuko differently than Haru?” Shit, she’s good.
He sputters. “Who— ack— who gives a shit how I look at somebody??”
“The little guy, Maijo, he told me about your little ‘prank’. Saying you were his betrothed?”
His eyeballs clash against his cranium. “It was funny! He asked me who I was and if I was important, you would’ve done the same thing!”
“I really wouldn’t have.”
“What are you trying to get at here?” he asks a little louder than he means to, then scoots back and folds his legs under him. “How does me liking Zuko make your life better?”
She shrugs. “I just want my brother to be happy, is all.”
“Okay, well you just made him really confused and frustrated, so… mission failed.”
“It’s okay if you do, Sokka.”
“Well, I don’t!” he snaps. “I’m still getting over Suki, you know this. How could I still love her and like him at the same time?”
“I liked Jet and Aang at the same time,” she reminds him, unconvinced. “It’s not unheard of.”
He sits with that for a moment. He doesn’t like how much sense that makes.
“I’m sorry I made things weird,” Katara finally says when she can’t take the silence any longer. “I think a small part of me wanted somebody to finally talk about boys with.”
Which, okay. He’ll give her that.
But now he’s actually... considering everything that just got brought up.
The whole... not wanting to leave conversation?
He imagines the same situation, but with Aang instead. Would he be so hesitant to leave?
He decides that’s not a fair comparison. Nothing, really, would be.
The long nights in the study, or goofing off around the palace,
Remembering how a tiny, tiny part of him wanted to believe the whole betrothed thing was true, for some reason. ... Political gain. Financial stability. Duh.
...uh oh.
“No, I do not like Zuko. Why— how would— no. I don’t.”
Katara’s face screams ‘I don’t believe you’, but her voice says, “I’m sorry I made that up. I guess I was bored.”
-
Days pass, Aang has to leave abruptly, Katara stays a week longer, and Sokka decides to go with her back to the South Pole. Partially to prove to himself that he can leave Zuko and the world won’t end, but mainly because he misses home so damn bad.
Everything’s almost packed onto the ship, and the siblings are saying their final goodbyes to the Firelord and co.
Zuko extends his hand, but Katara bypasses it for a hug.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Zuko,” she says into his shoulder.
He smiles, hugging her back. “You’re always welcome here, Katara.”
She gives him a small squeeze before letting go. “Sokka will be back before you know it,” she assures with a smile before promptly boarding the ship.
Zuko turns back around to see Sokka dragging two decently sized bags, practically bursting at the seams. He chuckles softly and walks swiftly over, taking one of them off his hands.
“I could’ve done it myself,” he mumbles.
“Oh yeah? You want this back?”
“...No.”
He laughs.
The two boys drag the bags to the dock, until a noble quickly takes them off of their hands before they can say anything, loading the ship.
They look at each other, both with bittersweet looks.
“You sure you’ll be alright while I’m gone?”
“Sokka, I’ll be fine,” he assures firmly. “Please do not worry about me.”
“I’ll write to you every day, how about that?”
He huffs fondly. “Do not. You’ll make the messengers go crazy.”
“Once a week.”
Zuko can’t help but smile. “Alright.”
“You better write back,” he says, pointing his finger at him.
“I will.” He catches a glimpse of someone on the ship giving a ‘wrap it up’ signal. “Alright, now, go.”
Sokka can’t help himself and lunges forward to give Zuko a bone-crushing hug. Zuko reciprocates just as tightly.
“I’ll see you soon.”
When the two pull away, they’re both still hesitant to let go.
“Wait, let me send you off the Water Tribe way.”
Before Sokka can ask what the hell he means by that, Zuko cups his face and presses his nose against his cheek over and over, breathing in sharply, leaving Sokka speechless.
Sokka’s hand hovers over where Zuko just was when he pulls away, staring wide-eyed at him.
“...That’s how you do it, right?” he asks, suddenly small and abashed.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, it is. How did… when did—”
“Sokka!! Let’s go!!” A man’s voice he doesn’t recognize booms from the ship.
The boy jolts. “Coming!!” He shouts, beelining for the ship. “Bye, Zuko!!” He waves quickly to the Firelord, then practically gets yanked on board by impatient passengers.
-
Katara’s startled awake by several loud knocks at her door, well past everyone’s bedtime. She rushes to open the door, and grows more panicked when she sees Sokka, absolutely wrecked—his hair is undone and frizzy, eyes sunken and haunted.
“Sokka? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
He squeezes his eyes shut and breathes in shakily, and blows it out just as vulnerable. “........I like Zuko,” he admits pathetically.
She softens. “Aw honey,” she coos, pulling him into a hug. “I know.”
-
“How did you know I liked guys before me??” is the first thing Sokka says when he’s finally ready to speak.
His sister can’t help but laugh a little bit. “I always was a little ahead of you with things like this.”
“Did… how long have you known?”
“I suspected it for a while,” she starts, fixing her hair. “But I knew when I saw you with Zuko.”
“Suspected??”
“There were a few times growing up… when you… I know you always wanted to be a warrior, but sometimes you spent a little too much time observing the men training.”
Sokka immediately burns up from the tips of his ears to the pit of his stomach. He knows exactly what she’s talking about.
How diligently he would watch their form, their technique, then slowly evolved into how they cut/styled their hair… their chiseled faces… toned bodies…
Oh damn. All this time he just thought he wanted to be them. But he was definitely staring a little extra hard.
“Hey, no shame!” she insists. “I did the same thing a couple times, we’re all only human.”
That does not make him feel better.
Katara chuckles slightly, if nothing else, to lighten the mood a bit. “This is a big day for you, huh?”
She says it to be a bit of a shit, but Sokka looks up at her with big polar puppy eyes and nods. She softens. “I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he gets out quickly. “It’s just a small thing. I’ll get over it.”
“Like you’ve gotten over everything else?” she asks genuinely. “I still hear you talk to Yue sometimes.”
Ouch. “That’s different. She wasn’t just a teen romance, she was smart, and funny, and so, so…” He takes a shaky breath in, then out. “She deserved to get old. Out of everyone, she deserved to get old the most. She had ambitions, and goals… and she was… so much more than just the Moon Spirit.”
Katara places a gentle hand on her brother’s shoulder. “The people who deserve to get old the most never do.”
His heart clenches.
Fuck, they never do. Not really.
He exhales and leans into his sister, letting himself be held for a while. She traces up and down his arm, places a small kiss on the crown of his head.
“So…” She traces circles on her brother’s back. “You like Zuko.”
He shrinks impossibly further into Katara’s embrace. “Yeah.”
“Well, if it’s anything,” she nudges Sokka back up, “he definitely likes you too.”
He hesitantly lifts himself up further to meet her eyes, not believing what he’s hearing. “How do you know?”
“I’m just saying, if he wanted to respect Water Tribe culture, he could’ve just shook your forearm or something. But no, he used an excuse to kiss you,” she teases lightly.
Then he shoots right back down, covering his burning face with his hands. “You saw that??”
“The entire world saw it.”
He burns impossibly redder. “Tui and La…”
“No! No! Don’t worry,” she quickly reassures. “Everyone was more shocked, like, ‘no way! The Firelord knows what a kunik is!’”
“I didn’t teach him that! No one did!” He peeks up through his fingers. “You think he did that because he likes me??”
She glares at him. “Sokka. When was the last time you saw him kiss, let alone hug anybody else?”
“Literally you and Aang yesterday.”
“We hugged him. When was the last time you saw him initiate something?”
He sinks back for a second. Shit.
Iroh?
…no…
Aang?
… what the fuck
“Sokka. He liikkees you.”
“Stop!!” he squeals, shoving his sister.
“Zuko and Sokka sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-”
“I’m leaving!!”
-
Dear the Great, the Amazing, the Irritating Ambassador Sokka,
As much as I hate to admit it, your presence is greatly missed over here. I hope things are good where you are, and the Southern Reconstruction Project is going the way we planned. Tell your father I say hello.
There is no political purpose I’m writing to you, in case you panicked upon seeing a message from me. You were right, I am going insane without your antics. Maijo and I have started playing practical jokes on the rest of the staff. What have I become?
Aang misses Fire Nation celebrations, so he and I have been brainstorming legitimate reasons to host a nationwide party. I knew a few Fire Nation holidays had messed up origins, but it’s disturbing when you see them laid out in front of you. Our best, and only, idea so far is the Solstice. Do you have any better ideas?
I know you’re laughing at me right now for being the first to write, after I laughed at how frequently you promised you’d write me. I just wanted to check in, because I really do miss you. Everyone around here does. That being said, do not take this as me begging you to cut your stay short. I’m a big boy, I can handle my best Ambassador being gone for a while. Keep navigating those penguin seals out of the training rings.
Warm regards (haha) from everyone,
Zuko
-
“Who’s that from?” Hakoda’s voice jolts Sokka back to reality.
“Dad!” He pants, attempting to gather himself. “Hi!”
The man stifles a short laugh. “Sorry, is this a bad time?”
“No, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” the man assures, pulling up a seat next to his son. “I’ve just hardly been able to talk to you.”
Sokka frowns, turning toward his dad, away from the letter. “I know… this is, like, the first time I’ve been able to breathe since I got here.”
He hums. “Did you and Suki rekindle things while you were away?”
His heart pangs and his face scrunches. What? “No… we haven’t spoken in…” he trails off, narrowing his gaze at his father. “...Why? Did the North convince you to start doing arranged marriages? Who do I have to marry?”
Hakoda snorts. “No! No, you’re not getting married off to anybody. I was just… that was always your ‘reading letters from Suki’ face.”
… what.
Reading letters from Suki—
Ohhh. Oh no.
Not him, too.
He lets out a long breath, debating whether he lies and makes up a fake girlfriend, lies and says he’s just happy to hear from Zuko, or tells the truth and says he stupidly fell for Zuko.
Every single one of those will have followup questions of some kind, all varying in intensity and/or concern.
The most intense/concerned followups would be if he told the truth.
Not worth it.
But for all the less intense ones, he’d have to make up even more lies—
“How’d you meet this girl?” his dad pries before he can make up his mind. “The embassy?”
Fuck, his face is burning. He clears his throat. “Uh, you could—” He laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “They— uh— yeah, I met— um, they work in the palace.”
Suddenly, his smile falls. “This person better be your age, Sokka,” he scolds. “I will not let the Southern Water Tribe’s reputation be soiled if you are sleeping with a Fire Nation noble twice your age—”
“Dad, ew! No!” He vigorously shakes his head to get that image out. “It’s not— no— he’s my age, don’t worry— I’m not—”
“He?”
Sokka freezes.
fuck.
“What— I— did I say he? What I meant— uh— see, I was thinking too fast— it’s not— I’m not—”
“Slow down,” he soothes, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “It’s okay if it’s a he. I was just surprised.”
Woah. Ow. Fuck. Faster than he can process it, his eyes pool up and blur his vision. “Are you sure? But I— … I shouldn’t…”
“Why not?”
A tear quickly streaks down his face. He quickly rubs it off. “Because… I just… I don’t know.” He sighs and hunches over, hiding his face that’s now spewing even more tears. “I’m learning a lot of things about myself that I didn’t know a week ago.”
The man hums and gently brings his son’s face back up to face him, then wipes away the tear with his thumb. “You know who went through a similar thing when he was your age?”
He sniffs. “Who?”
“Bato.”
And that’s groundbreaking enough to pull Sokka out of his emotions for a second, and sit back up and ask ever so eloquently, “Huh?”
Hakoda chuckles softly. “Bato’s had male and female partners throughout his life, and loved them all the same. We had a similar conversation like this one when we were teenagers.”
It takes a second for him to take all of that in, not believing his ears. How is this the first time he’s ever heard about this? “So… it’s not a fluke? Like, not a one-in-a-million chance someone can like boys and girls?”
“I thought that, too.” He smooths over Sokka’s hair. “No, you’d be surprised how many people there are that do.”
That takes a weight off of his chest he didn’t realize was there until it was gone. And he, he laughs. And he pulls his dad into a hug like he just found out the secrets to the universe. Hakoda laughs too, holding him tighter.
“Tell me about this boy,” he prompts once his son settles down, smiling softly. “He must be pretty special for his letters to have you smiling like that.”
He flushes. Right, the whole ‘reading-letters-from-Suki’ thing. He wasn’t aware he was smiling or anything—how obvious was it—his desk faces away from the entrance?
“He…” he can’t help but laugh nervously, ducking his head. “He’s just really… I don’t know.” It takes a second to gather his thoughts, but when he does, he sits back up and sighs contently, looking back up at his dad. “He’s so much like me, but also nothing like me at the same time,” he remarks. “He tries. He tries so hard. He tries to be good, to be better, to be the man he thinks people need him to be.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” the man remarks.
Sokka laughs. Damn. “Yeah…” he rubs the back of his neck. “Katara kinda helped me realize I liked him, but… I think I have for a while. I just didn’t know I could, you know?” He clears his throat. “It really hit when I was leaving, and he said goodbye with a kunik.” He smiles at the memory. “That really just… made me realize how much he cares, for me, our culture… yeah.”
“What’s his name?” he asks softly.
That feels like a thousand knives thrown onto Sokka’s body. Right. He has to tell his father, the Southern Chief, that the boy he likes is the Firelord. “You, uh… you know him, actually.”
“Oh?”
The boy, head low, maneuvers his seat so he’s facing his dad. “Promise you won’t freak out, okay?”
Hakoda raises an eyebrow and leans back apprehensively. “Why would I freak out?”
He swallows, eyes glued to the ground. “.......it’s Zuko.”
There’s a deafening silence between them for what feels like an eternity. Sokka forces himself to look up and sees Hakoda’s unreadable expression, and he might actually explode.
“Dad, please, say something,” he begs, finally breaking the silence.
He evenly breathes in, then out. “Firelord Zuko.”
Sokka nods, slumping into himself. “I’m not happy about it, either.”
“No, it’s not that…”
“What is it, then?”
Hakoda tucks a flyaway strand of hair behind his son’s ear. “Just be careful, is all. There are people out there who hate the Firelord, and want him gone. I fear they would use you against him to get what they want.”
A chill runs down his spine.
Initially.
Then he fully takes in his father’s words, and the feelings of dread and fear for his own wellbeing melt away, and all he feels is belittled. Suddenly he’s thirteen years old again, and his dad is explaining to him why he doesn’t count as a man yet as the rest of the men leave to fight.
“Dad, I’m a warrior,” comes out snippier than he intends. “I’ll be okay.”
The man’s eyes soften. “I know you are. You are a very strong, formidable young man. But—”
“I broke you out of prison!” the boy reminds him, voice breaking. “I’ve taken on armies! You think some miserable bigots will be the thing to break me?” he asks desperately. It’s not rhetorical.
“Sokka…” The Chief firmly places his hands on both his son’s shoulders. “I have never doubted you or your abilities for a second.”
Damn it, another tear falls again. Hakoda quickly wipes it away.
“You’re so much like me. I know you feel like you can take on the world, which you have. But you cannot stop any and every threat that comes your way. Nobody can.” He looks away for a moment and lets out a long, shaky breath before looking his son in the eyes. “I could not save your mother.”
That hits him like an avalanche.
“You’re my son, and I want you to be happy. But I have seen how much evil people can take away from the strongest people I know.”
Sokka reaches up, hand trembling, and gently grips his father’s wrist. ‘I…” His voice can hardly stay together. “I love you,” is all he can manage to get out.
Hakoda’s eyes get impossible softer, and he pulls his boy into a hug. It’s uncomfortable and awkward because of how they’re sitting, but neither of them care. “I love you, too,” he whispers, rubbing up and down his back.
-
He spends the next couple of days assisting with construction, training little ones, and not writing back to Zuko.
The more he tries not to think about him, the more intensely he thinks about him. Ugh.
He wishes he was a bender right now. Any bender, doesn’t even have to be water. He just wants the satisfaction of being able to manipulate something, like shooting fire out of his hands to make a huge explosion, or pulling a giant chunk of dirt out of the ground, or shooting air hard enough towards the ground to propel him upwards, or cause a typhoon or whirlpool... He just— needs to do something.
Because the more he just sits alone with his thoughts, the more they wander.
The more he thinks.
The more he thinks about Zuko.
His golden eyes,
His long, silky, jet black hair…
AGH!
He had to diffuse two explosives in two months. Planted in his room.
Then they had to background check and interrogate every. Member. Of the staff.
But Zuko…
Zuko…
FUCK!
NO!
He is not allowed to think about his coworker that way.
Co-worker?
No he’s the Firelord, so superior?
Superior…
Because he’s on top of him…
Directly on top of him…
Telling him what to do…
OH TUI AND FUCKING LA—
“Damn, what’d that punching bag ever do to you?” a mature voice teases behind him, ripping him out of it.
And now he’s harshly put back in the present: delivering blow after blow to this poor punching bag, swinging like crazy, the spot in the middle cracking a bit at the seams.
He looks down at his hands. Knuckles split and bleeding, wraps torn, and holy shit, as he begins to catch his breath and cool his head, it’s as if his brain remembers he’s supposed to be feeling pain right now. His wrists begin to ache, and his knuckles sting like a motherfucker.
Holy shit, he’s never been that sucked in before. Any other time he knew to stop before the skin got too damaged.
“Everything okay, Sokka?” He now recognizes it’s Bato, and remembers he has to respond.
He hangs his head and groans. “It’s complicated.”
“You don’t have to talk about it… but let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”
“Wait,” he begs, extending a hand out. “I don’t… can we talk? Just us? No healers around… or… anything?”
He softens. “Of course.” Bato lowers himself to the ground and beckons the boy to sit with him. “What’s going on?”
“Bato…” He swallows, suddenly incredibly nervous as he goes to sit down next to him. “Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
He flicks his eyebrows. “A few. Why? Are you having boy problems?”
‘Boy problems’ makes him flush a bit. “No… yes…” He grunts and buries his head in his hands. “I’m just so confused… and conflicted…”
“Is this your first boy?”
Sokka meekly lifts his head back up. “...yeah…”
Bato can’t help but chuckle a bit. “Your first boy is always really hard.”
“How did…” He sighs and rubs his eyes. “How did you know? With your first boy? How’d you know you liked him? ”
The man blows out a strong puff of air. “It’s… you know….” his eyes shift all around the room as he crosses his arms and leans back. “You want the real answer? Or the mushy answer I tell people?”
A suspicious eyebrow nearly bumps against Sokka’s hairline. “What’s the real answer?”
Bato laughs and focuses his eyes on anywhere but Sokka. “I was hunting with a friend of mine, and the way he grunted and wiped the sweat off his forehead made me feel the same things a pretty girl did.”
Immediately, he imagines Zuko in that situation.
Holy shit…
Taking charge, hunting,
Out of breath, heaving, wiping himself off—
“You really like this boy?” Bato asks with a cunning smile, almost like he can read Sokka’s damn mind.
Fuck. Shit.
Fuck.
He swallows his pride and nods.
“Does he know?”
“I hope not,” comes out immediately.
The man shifts his sitting position. “It’s scary, I know.”
“Especially because he’s Fire Nation.”
That makes Bato’s head snap towards Sokka. “...he is?”
“I know,” he whines, burying his head back in his lap. “I know… I know…”
“No, hey, Sokka, buddy,” he slowly lifts the boy’s head back up to face him. “I’ve had my fair share of Fire Nation men, I get it.”
And that completely makes him forget any inner turmoil from before, and immediately replaces it with pure confusion. If Sokka were standing, that would’ve knocked him off his feet. “What?? When?? How???? WHY????”
The man throws his head back, laughing. “You think Zuko was the only rebel in 100 years?” he jokes once he settles back down. “I won’t get too gross, but let’s just say any former enemy of the state around my age knows my name.”
Definitely got too gross.
Sokka audibly swallows. “Okay, so, uh… funny you mention Zuko…”
The man sobers. “...Is your boy Zuko?”
His boy.
“Mayyybbbeeee???”
That’s when he expects him to gasp, tell him how appalled he is, how the Firelord is the only Fire Nation man off limits, advise he stay the hell away,
But he… smiles. And says, “He’s a good kid. You’d be really good for each other.”
And Sokka doesn’t really know what to say to that. Doesn’t quite believe it, doesn’t quite believe anyone would believe it…
“I mean it!” he assures. “You’ve been through a lot together—that kind of stuff bonds people.”
Bato sighs when he still doesn’t get any sort of response from Sokka. “Your dad gave you the whole speech about how dangerous it is, didn’t he?”
Sokka raises an eyebrow at that. “How did you—?”
“I’d be surprised if he didn’t,” he says with a laugh. “I know your father. He’s a protector, just like you. He has so much responsibility on his shoulders, and he tries his hardest to keep his family out of harm’s way.” The man brushes a flyaway out of Sokka’s face. “Obviously, I know some of his concerns are warranted. But I also know he can find the danger in just about anything. Being a dad does that to you. If your boy was from here, he’d warn you about ulterior motives to get closer to the Chief.”
Sokka sits with that for a moment. Doesn’t let that give him too much false hope, but... it definitely was reassuring. A bit. He decides to leave that discussion there.
“How, ah… how do you… how different is it… being with another guy?”
Bato chuckles. “You know, people are already so different as it is. Every person I’ve been with was a new experience. Being with another guy is as different as being with a brand new partner, really.”
Huh. He sits back, taking that in. “That makes sense.”
“When you live as much life as me, you make a lot of sense.”
Sokka softens, goes to hug the man, but it’s not that comfortable since they’re both sitting down. But neither of them acknowledge that. “Thanks, Bato.”
“You’ll be alright, Sokka. I promise.”
-
Dear the regal, the dramatic, the Firelord who’s going insane without me Zuko,
The Southern Reconstruction Project is going great!! Everything is according to plan and more. You wouldn't even recognize it — it’s already way better than the North. I have no evidence to show you, but just trust me.
The Solstice is a great idea!! But if you’re looking for some new Fire Nation traditions to start, might I suggest a holiday for the amazing handsome Southern Water Tribe Ambassador? I mean, that guy is really something, someone should give him a raise already.
In all seriousness, maybe something commemorating the end of the Hundred Year War, have it be a celebration of different cultures to symbolize Avatar Aang restoring balance? Just spitballing here. I think that’s pretty good, though.
I miss you over here, too! I can’t believe you and Maijo are pranking everyone without me. I’ll be back before you know it, don’~~^—
“Dear Zuko, I looove you!!” Katara’s mocking voice pulls him out of his stream of consciousness. “I miss you sooo much, I wish I was there right now so I can smooch you and tell you how much I looove you!!”
The boy seethes. “Don’t you have to go teach waterbending or something??”
She laughs. “Don’t you have to be doing actual Ambassador duties and not writing to your boyfriend?”
“HE’S NOT MY—” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Why’d you come in here?”
She approaches and leans against his desk, teasing disposition suddenly gone. “I heard you told dad.”
He swallows. “He actually, uh, figured it out.”
“I’m proud of you,” she comforts with a small smile.
Sokka groans. “Don’t do that.”
“What? I mean it. I know you still have some manliness issues going on—”
“I do not have manliness issues—”
“But if you were gonna like any boy,” she approaches and leans against his desk, “Zuko’s a pretty good one.”
He sighs and props his head up with his arm. “Is he really, though?”
“I mean, you guys are perfect for each other.”
“How?”
“You balance each other out,” she continues. “He doesn’t think more than two seconds in advance, while you strategize to the smallest detail… he’s a bender… you’re… not…”
He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That’s all you got?”
She sighs, then readjusts herself. “I don’t know, when I was there at the palace… you guys just reminded me so much of me and Aang. You’re both so comfortable around each other.”
“I can’t be with him,” he insists before she can continue.
“Says who?”
“Says me, says the world, says the spirits, says everybody!”
“I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff,” she raises.
A huff. “That’s… different.”
Katara furrows her brow. “Okay, what’s going on?” she pries, staring daggers into her brother’s eyes. “You never let that stop you before. You’ve been the other man for Tui’s sake—”
“If I were to date Zuko, people will say I’m his gigolo. His plaything. The reason the South has gotten ‘so much special treatment’. I’m stealing him from his suitors—”
“Woah, woah, woah—”
“Don’t try and tell me I’m wrong,” he bites, a little harsher than intended. “You and I both know the sick things people say about ‘the Avatar’s girl’.”
As he says it, he knows it’s the wrong thing to say.
And her reaction as if he just tore open a wound that only just began to scab over only solidifies that.
She breathes in, then out.
“...and yet here I am. Still happily with him.”
…
Yeah. He can’t really think of anything to follow that up with.
Katara kinda gathers that after the first minute or so of silence.
She smooths over her brother’s shoulders, then gives a small squeeze. “I know… I know. Believe me, I know.”
She doesn't say what she knows, but Sokka can feel it. He knows, too.
“You deserve to be happy,” she starts. “And I think you’d be happy with Zuko.”
Sokka shuts his eyes, puts a hand over his sister’s, still on his shoulders. “I think so too. And I really... really wish I didn’t.”
She puts her other hand over Sokka’s, sandwiching it between both of hers. “Don’t think too hard about it while you’re here, okay? The Fire Nation takes up enough of our lives,” she tries to joke, but neither of them laugh.
“You’re right,” is all Sokka says before kissing his sister’s cheek, then leaving to see what or who needs his help.
-
Because Katara can’t help herself, she sneaks back into Sokka’s room and finds his discarded letters once he’s gone.
Dearest Zuko,
Zukoooo, my main man, my
Zuko,
Look at you, making the first move!
I knew you’d write first. You love me so much it
I miss you over here, too! The South Pole looks great. It would look better with you h ^v–~~
Oh, brother. She gets the feeling the rest of them are like this, too.
-
Zuko never thought he would ever miss his nightmares.
He lost what may actually be, once added all together, a year’s worth of sleep to the fear of reliving either his most painful memories, or his greatest fears.
He’s been on a good streak so far—the nights he wakes up in a cold sweat are spread few and far between since returning from his stint in Ba Sing Se.
But now, here he is, bargaining with Agni to give them back.
He never thought there could be anything worse than nightmares about the war.
But, no. There is.
And that’s dreams about Sokka.
The first time he ever had a dream about him was a couple months after Sozin’s Comet, and it was so blurry he couldn’t make out what it was supposed to be until a day later.
The next one was the night after they ran into each other in Ba Sing Se. They were back at the Boiling Rock, stuck in a cooler together, huddling for warmth, because Zuko couldn’t remember how to firebend for some reason.
The next one was after the rage room.
Then, after Sokka left for the South Pole, it was damn near every night. Each one more realistic than the last. Each one more… uh… intimate… than the last.
He wakes up after each one, heart pounding. Confused. Angry. Frustrated.
And he can’t stop thinking about them afterwards, reliving them during important meetings when his head really should not be in other places.
A part of him has always been very fond of Sokka. Since he joined Team Avatar, he always felt himself gravitating towards him, or being the most interested in him and his endeavors; he chalked it up to being he was the only other boy his age, the one he could relate the most to.
He tried not to think about it too much when he didn’t feel the same pull towards Aang, the boy who quite literally saved his life and was the first one to take a chance on him.
But it’s starting to get increasingly harder to ignore when he’s now having these dreams more nights than he doesn't.
It’s one of the universe’s favorite things to do, to play tricks on Zuko. To give him all this comfort and happiness and warmth and love at night, then waking him up to the reality that he does not, and will not, have that.
Because Zuko may be an idiot, but he’s not stupid. He couldn’t do that to Sokka, to himself. Sokka said it himself; the world would explode if they were ever betrothed.
It makes him remember why he went through with running away all those months ago now.
Why he saved Appa all those years ago, before he was ready to accept that Team Avatar were the good guys.
No one deserves to be in a cage. To be shackled, restrained, with such limited free will.
With that thought, he huffs. “Oh, poor you,” he scolds himself sardonically. “You’re stuck in the highest role, in the richest monarchy in the world. You are just like an endangered Air Bison being whipped and exploited for entertainment.”
“Your majesty, with all due respect, you have enough people to argue with,” Maijo’s young voice reminds Zuko that he is not in the privacy of his office and is actually outside in the courtyard where anybody can walk in. “Don’t make that list longer and add yourself as well.”
... That made a little bit of sense. A little.
“Forgive me, Maijo,” he says before he dips his hands in the water, then slicks back some flyaway hairs he just knows have escaped. “I’m just... it’s just been one of those days.”
The boy frowns for a moment, then softly perks up again, reaching for his bag. “Maybe this will cheer you up,” he says when he’s retrieved what he was looking for: a rolled-up parchment with a blue seal. “The Southern Water Tribe sends their regards. I’m guessing. I didn’t read it or anything. But I figure if it was bad news, they’d send people, not a letter, right?” He hands the letter to Zuko, cursing himself under his breath. “Anyway. Here it is.”
There’s a little too long of a pause, Zuko looking at the letter in his hand, and Maijo looking at Zuko looking at the letter, before the Maijo finally pipes up again says, “That’s all. Bye now,” and promptly leaves.
-
Dear Firelord Zuko,
The Southern Reconstruction Project has made so much progress! The agonizing nights you and my brother spent were much worth it; the South has prospered more in these past few months than it used to in years.
I’m writing on behalf of Sokka, as he has not had a free moment since he’s arrived. He misses you very much, and told me to say you should perfect triangles by the time he gets back. He said you’d know what that means.
He also told me about you and Aang trying to find a reason to host a celebration of some kind. There has to be Fire Nation holidays from before the war that were forgotten about, do some digging and find some ancient history books. You’ll find something cool, I know it.
Don’t spread yourself too thin without your trusty right hand. He’ll be back soon.
Say hi to your Uncle for me! I miss him and his proverbs.
Love,
Katara
-
“Master Katara is such a nice young lady,” Iroh coos.
“I think I overdid it, Uncle,” Zuko whines, subconsciously crinkling the edge of the letter. “I sent him off with a Water Tribe kiss, and then I wrote him this letter about how much I missed him??” He slams his head on the table with a grunt. “What is wrong with me??”
The man places a hand on his nephew’s back. “You always did love with all your heart, Lord Zuko. Nothing about that is wrong.”
“It is when his sister writes to you on his behalf!” he cries, flopping onto the table, folding his arms in front of him to cushion his face. “He’s probably too uncomfortable to write to me, to even think about me.”
“She said he was busy,” he reminds him.
“For a month?” He pathetically lifts his head back up to look his Uncle in the eyes, not believing him and knowing he can’t believe that either. “A whole month he couldn’t find ten minutes to sit down and write to me?”
“You don’t know how overwhelming Ambassador Sokka’s workload is right now. He’s currently rebuilding his home, remember?”
He responds with a miserable whimper, then looks down to scan back over the letter.
Iroh approaches him and gently threads his fingers through his nephew's hair, much longer than the last time he saw him. “Have you been washing your hair with rice water?”
“...yes?”
“I can tell,” he remarks. “It’s the healthiest I’ve ever seen it.”
Zuko blows a stray strand out of his face with more force than he needs to. “At least something about me is.”
The man frowns. “You don’t feel healthy?”
“No— yes— I— I don’t know. I’m—” He struggles for words, tries to speak with his hands, then gives up, hangs his head, and groans. “I miss Sokka. …I miss when I wasn’t in love with him.”
“Love can be very frustrating,” Iroh agrees, sectioning his nephew’s hair into three different pieces.
“I wish…” Zuko starts, sitting still and upright to make it easier for Iroh to braid his hair. “I wish I could’ve loved Mai. It would’ve been so easy. I do love her, but… not the way I should. Not the way she loved me.” He goes to pick at the scar tissue around his eye. Iroh shoos his hand away. “And now I’m having dreams about my Ambassador. Who’s Water Tribe. And another man. ”
Iroh hums. “I recall two lovers in the same situation as you.”
Zuko’s stomach swoops at the use of the word ‘lovers’. Then he quickly stifles that feeling. If he lets himself think about that for any more than a second, well. He’d be more ruined than he already is.
“You may know them; their names were Oma and Shu.”
That rips him right out of his repressed romantic haze, and he can’t help but roll his eyes. “Yeah, you think Sokka and I will defy all odds and create a city called ZukoSokka??” A light swat. “Hey—!”
“Despite their love for each other being doomed by almost every outside force, they found a way—”
“And one of them got killed, remember?”
Iroh sighs, then fastens the end of the finished braid. “Every day you put that Firelord headpiece in and wear those robes you hate so much, because you know if you don’t, the wrong person will.”
He pulls out a chair next to Zuko to sit and meet his eye level, and reaches out to gently turn his face towards his. “Traitors have attempted to assassinate you, yet you still fearlessly show up to work every day. Why do anything at all if it may result in death or injury? There is no reward without risk, Lord Zuko. But you know this. I know you do.”
He does.
He considers that for a second, then stiffens. “Why are we even talking about this like we’re getting married tomorrow??” he snaps, getting out of his seat. “I still have work to do. I have deals to finalize by the end of the week.”
The man crosses his arms and leans back, a little amused by how his nephew doesn’t even try to come up with something convincing. “And what are these deals? What are you dealing?”
Zuko stammers for a moment before whipping back around. “That’s confidential!” And he storms out of his office with a huff.
-
Maijo has to commission a new rage room that night. As well as consult a few scholars about what material could possibly withstand more heat than solid steel.
-
Half asleep, Sokka’s dragging his bags across the marble floor of the palace, cursing himself for bringing so much damn stuff with him.
He was supposed to arrive hours ago. He never got a straight answer why it took so long—first it was wind, then it was fuel, then just dancing around the question. Finally, he couldn’t take it and just asked someone to wake him up when they docked.
Now he’s groggy and trying not to make any noise because he’s not sure exactly how late it is, but late enough that they tell him to be quiet coming in.
And he nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Zuko up and about, and Zuko reacts about the same when he registers the other boy.
“Sokka?” Zuko chokes out, gathering himself. “When did you get back?”
“Literally two seconds ago,” he says with a breathy laugh. “Why are you still up?”
The Firelord groans. “I’ve been revising school textbooks nonstop pretty much since you left.” He rubs his eyes. “There’s not a single true thing in any of them. Not even—I knew obviously they wrote themselves to be the heroes in the War, but there’s so many things that I would never even think of? Apparently kids learn in school that Azulon was unable to lie, like, Agni gave him the gift of pure honesty. What does that have to do with anything? Also, just not true.”
Sokka blinks, not quite processing all that.
Zuko realizes. “Sorry, do you need help getting settled?”
“Uh… Yeah.”
-
“Why didn’t you tell me about the textbook thing?” Sokka asks once they’ve gotten into a groove of unpacking. “I would’ve come back sooner to help you.”
“Exactly.”
That makes him sigh. “Zuko…”
“Aang was here for a bit!” he desperately rebuts. “He helped me with Air Nomad culture and history and all that—”
“It is literally my job to help you with things like this!”
“What was I supposed to do? What would that letter have looked like? ‘Hey Sokka, I know you haven’t seen your family in damn near a year, but I need you to come back right now and help me rewrite history books!!’” he mocks.
“....Yes!!” Sokka’s completely abandoned anything he was doing, now looking at Zuko like he’s grown three heads. “When you and one other guy—who’s seventeen—are the only ones working tirelessly on something that takes a village!”
Before Zuko can come up with some lame response, he’s overwhelmed by the door swinging open, followed by a pallid, concerned guard. “My Lord, is everything alright?” he asks before Zuko can.
He sits there dumbly for a second, then remembers how loud he and Sokka just were, and how late it is. Then he sinks into himself, slightly embarrassed. “Uh, yes, everything’s fine. I’m sorry we disturbed you. Go back to your post.”
As she retreats, Zuko slowly turns back to face Sokka, who is biting down on his lip hard, trying not to laugh.
“...what?”
“Go back to your post,” he mocks in the deepest voice he can muster, puffing his chest out. “I’m Zuko and I’m the king of the world~”
“Alright, you need to go to sleep,” he insists, fed up, reaching down for Sokka’s bag.
“Says the guy who hasn’t even seen his bedroom in three days,” Sokka retorts.
“That’s a bold assumption.”
“Is it a correct one?”
“....... yes.”
Sokka bites back a laugh. “You’re a mess.”
“I don’t have to help you unpack, you know.”
Sokka calls that bluff immediately. “I know.”
And, to no one’s surprise, Zuko doesn’t even pretend to stop helping. If anything, starts working more efficiently.
“Wow, it’s like I never left it.” Sokka admires his room with a proud smile once their finished putting everything away.
He looks back over at Zuko, expecting some sarcastic comment, but he’s just smiling at him, with all the fondness in the world. Like he’s something to behold. Which, he is, don’t get him wrong, but... this is an interesting time and place to be... beheld.
“I really missed you,” he sighs more than says.
And that... throws Sokka off his rhythm just a little bit. Makes some warmth pool up in the bottom of his stomach. “I missed you, too.”
Just like that, Zuko pulls him into a tight, warm hug, feeling up and down his back, nestling his chin on his shoulder. “Agni, I really, really missed you.”
Sokka shuts his eyes and wraps his arms around Zuko just as tight. He won’t let himself read too far into the embrace, but he also won’t pass up an opportunity to hold Zuko close to him. “I know, I’m a pretty great guy.”
Once again, he expects a scoff or a ‘you ruined it’, but Zuko softly chuckles and hugs him tighter. “Yeah… yeah you are.”
Woahhh.
Sue him for feeling a little warm and fuzzy at that. Like anyone else wouldn’t?
Then suddenly, Zuko shoves himself out of the hug, sending both of them backwards.
Sokka catches his footing and gives Zuko a, ‘what was that?’ look. Because, well, what was that.
“Uh...” Zuko stands with his mouth open, then brings up his pointer finger as if he’s about to make some big statement, then all he says is, “Goodnight.”
Then he turns on his heel and bolts out of the room, leaving Sokka speechless.
...what in the hell.