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Zuko asks a servant to retrieve Aang early in the morning, even before the first rays of pale sunlight have begun to stream through his bedroom window.
It’s his wedding day. Soon, his fiancee—the daughter of a noble from a neighboring city—will be here to retrieve him for breakfast. The first of many meals they will share with one another, Zuko thinks, mouth set in a grim line. He moves to the window, staring out at the castle grounds, colored blue in the dim light of dawn. It’s a new day.
He takes his time dressing, eyes flickering uncontrollably to his door. It isn’t until he’s finishing up, drawing his thick black hair into a tight bun at the top of his head, that the door finally creaks open. Zuko doesn't turn; he stares into the mirror as he ties a red ribbon around his hair, and wonders who the grim-faced young man staring back at him is.
Apparently, Aang is wondering the same thing. “Stop pouting,” he says, probably intending to be harsh. Sadness waters down the severity of his words, pools in his grey eyes, weighs his shoulders down.
Zuko lets his hands drop to his sides and finally turns, meeting Aang’s gaze head-on. “I didn’t think you would come.”
The airbender’s frown deepens; his brows pinch. “You asked me to.”
“I know,” Zuko says hoarsely. “I needed to see you.”
He’d expected his words to make Aang angry, but the man’s expression doesn’t change. All of the fierce emotions which had once caused Aang to act out, to insist that Zuko reconsider getting married, that he put himself first for once—those have all been extinguished. There is no fire in Aang’s eyes now; only sorrow and resignation. He’s given up.
“There’s no reason for you to need to see me,” Aang tells him. There’s exhaustion in his voice, in his eyes, in his bones. He’s so, so tired .
Zuko can’t stand to see him like this. “Yes, there is,” he insists, taking a step closer, amber eyes alight.
“Why?”
Zuko advances until he’s directly in front of Aang. He lets his hands settle on Aang’s shoulders, relishing in the familiarity of the man’s wind-battered, suntanned skin. Aang is warm, even in the early morning chill. The sun exists in him—Zuko knows it. It’s nestled there, right next to his heart. It shines through his skin, makes him glow, brings light and energy and warmth to everything that falls into his orbit.
When he speaks again, Zuko’s voice is hardly a whisper. “You know why.” He slips a hand down to Aang’s waist and draws him closer. He dips his head forward, pressing against the gentle warmth, yearning for the sunlight that Aang always pours into him.
Aang’s hand presses over his mouth before their lips can meet. Zuko’s eyes flutter open, startled—he blinks down at Aang, and the airbender stares back with anguish in his eyes.
“You’re getting married today,” Aang says solemnly.
Zuko knows. His bride-to-be is two doors down; she’s probably already awake and dressing for the day. The room that they will share come tonight is just across the hall. Zuko had personally selected the silk sheets upon which they would lay together tonight, and every night thereafter. He knows very well that he is getting married today. He also knows that he will never love his new wife the way he loves Aang. She is kind, and intelligent, and beautiful—she will be a wonderful leader and a good mother. She will do her duty, just as Zuko will. They are a logical match. Together, they will continue to build a peaceful world.
“It’s for you, Aang—for the world. You know what’s expected of us.” Zuko says, his voice muffled by Aang’s hand.
Aang’s frown deepens, and he shakes his head.“I know what you think is expected of us,” he retorts bitterly. “But I also know that the world isn’t as cruel a place as you think it is. We don’t have to hide.”
“You’ve always been too optimistic. I need to prove to the world that I can do this, that I can be a Firelord that brings peace instead of destruction, not just for now, but forever . I’ve already waited long enough; I need an heir.” Zuko tells him.Then he leans in, tenderly kissing the palm still pressed over his mouth.
“There are other ways,” Aang argues, turning his gaze away. He shifts in Zuko’s hold, pulling back, drawing his hand away from the man’s lips.
“ Aang ,” Zuko whispers his name like a prayer. He catches Aang’s hand, entwines their fingers. “Is it really worth losing everything we have over?”
He leans in again. Aang turns his face away and Zuko grabs his chin, guiding his gaze back toward his. He holds Aang’s hand steady when it tries to cover his mouth a second time; he closes in the last of the space between them before Aang can stop him. He seals his lips over Aang’s and kisses him desperately, willing his emotions to come through—for Aang to understand how much he needs him, how much he loves him, how badly he wants to be with him. Zuko’s hands come to Aang’s face, gripping the sides of it, holding him firmly in place.
Against his mouth, Aang lets out a sob. Zuko swallows the sound, pressing urgently into him to no avail. Aang’s hands raise to his chest, palms flattening against it before he shoves Zuko back, face twisted with heartbreak.
“You have a fiancee,” Aang’s voice is strained and wet as he says it. “We can’t. I won’t , Zuko. I won’t do that to myself. I told you already.”
Zuko lunges forward, tears burning in his eyes, reaching for Aang yet again. The airbender steps back, putting himself out of reach; he watches Zuko’s hand grasp at the empty air and stifles another sob. Then, he turns and makes for the door.
“Aang, wait, please,” Zuko begs, dashing forward and throwing himself in front of the door before Aang can grab the handle. “I told you, she already knows. She doesn’t love me, she knows she’s free to be with whoever she likes as long as it’s discreet—”
A humorless laugh bubbles up and spills from Aang’s lips. “That may work fine for both of you, but I don’t want to have to hide my love. I don’t want to be anyone’s secret.”
Zuko opens his mouth to reply, but a knock on the door interrupts them.
“Firelord Zuko, may I come in?” Comes the soft, even voice of Zuko’s bride-to-be.
Aang wipes the tears from his eyes, and gently pushes Zuko away from the door. The man watches, amber eyes glued to Aang’s back, as he opens the door. The woman behind it blinks, seeming surprised to see the Avatar. Neither man offers an explanation. Instead, Aang smiles softly at her, bows his head, and wishes her a long life full of happiness.
Zuko watches Aang leave without a word. His hand twitches at his side. The gaps between his fingers feel larger than ever.