Work Text:
Sokka was having a terrible day.
He loved his job, truly, he did. He was a civil engineer at a private company, and most days it was amazing. Today, it was not amazing.
The coffee machine wasn't working. Honestly, he should have just gone home after that. A grant he had really needed had been denied. And, as the cherry on top, he spilled the last of the soup that Katara had made for him on his lap. All before 1 o’clock.
Sokka had never been so ecstatic to walk through the doors of his cozy (read: shitty) apartment. He let out a sigh and dumped his things by the door, nudging off his shoes as he made for the kitchen. He could finally kick back and pretend he wouldn’t have to repeat it all again the next day.
Which was exactly what he did. Sokka threw some leftover Chinese takeout in the microwave and went to change his clothes. Despite the fact that the building he lived in was old (the landlord said it had “character”), he was glad that he finally lived on his own. So maybe the paint on all of the windows was peeling, and maybe the radiator knocked like an angry census taker. But, at least Sokka could now walk around in underwear and a stained t-shirt without judgement. It was the life.
After stripping down to his boxers, Sokka settled onto his couch with leftovers in one hand and a beer in the other. He balanced them on his lap and grabbed the remote to his TV. Time for some horrible reality television.
And it was when Sokka was deciding between 90 Day Fiancé and Love Island that he saw it.
Sokka had kicked his legs up on the coffee table in front of him. His place was a little messy, sure, but not enough so that he didn’t notice the monstrously huge spider that was sitting next to his feet.
“Oh, fuck no,” he whispered.
Sokka locked eyes with the spider. Maybe, if he moved very slowly, it would be fine. He started to inch his legs down from their perch, eyes still on the spider, doing his best not to lose the small ounce of sanity he had left.
Then, the spider jumped onto the couch.
Sokka screamed. He felt that it was very much warranted and would defend that if anyone tried to say differently.
He dropped his takeout and drink then ran into his room, looking around wildly for something that he could kill the spider with. Did he not own a baseball bat, seriously? And that thing was so huge anyways, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the noise it made when he squished it. The thought alone sent a chill up his spine.
So he threw open his window and climbed onto the fire escape. Like any rational adult in that situation would, really.
This was a perfectly fine plan. He could just hang out until the spider decided to leave. But, then again, what if it didn’t leave? What if it laid eggs in his apartment and started its own spider-family?
Sokka realized maybe this was not a good plan. It didn’t help that it was in the middle of January and all he was wearing was boxers and a ratty shirt, either. But as soon as he made to go back inside, the window to his bedroom slammed shut.
Fuck. He thought he had gotten that fixed.
Sokka held his chin between his thumb and forefinger and assessed the situation. He had forgotten that his stupid window was broken, and his stupid landlord hadn’t come to fix it yet. He tried to open it, but to no avail. No amount of physical force or yelling curses made it budge.
Sokka let his head fall against the cool glass of the window. Could he not catch a break? He was sure that the universe had it out for him. It seemed like he couldn’t go one day without some ridiculous cosmic prank being played on him.
He needed to figure out some sort of plan. He was locked out without his phone or his keys, and he didn’t even have on shoes.
The way Sokka saw it, he had two options: the scary old lady in the apartment above him who was always telling him off for playing Smash Bros too loud, or the hot twink in the apartment below him.
Yeah, because that was a difficult decision.
Sokka nimbly climbed down the fire escape to the landing below his. Dark red curtains blocked the view into the apartment – no way to know if its owner was home. Well, he would just have to hope for the best.
He started with a few light taps on the window. Nothing. A few more, slightly aggressive taps. Still nothing. Sokka sighed and put his face in his hands. This was not how he wanted to get to know his downstairs neighbor.
Sokka had seen this neighbor before, of course. They both lived on low floors (Sokka was 3C, his neighbor was 2C) so they passed each other in the stairs or in the lobby pretty often. The only reason Sokka knew his name was because he had accidentally knocked into the guy one morning and made him drop an armful of papers. They were filled with lines of dialogue, the name Zuko printed neatly in the top right-hand corner of several.
He couldn’t deny that Zuko was attractive. He couldn’t deny that he often thought about his stupid fancy clothes or the rough tenor of his voice. He couldn’t deny how much he fantasized about taking him out for a date and bringing him back to his own apartment. So, yeah, this was not how Sokka imagined they would be properly meeting.
Sokka decided to just shove down his pride and knocked forcefully on the window a few more times. It was starting to get colder and there was no way he was going to freeze to death because of a god damn spider.
Finally, Zuko appeared as he pushed aside the heavy curtains. He, understandably so, seemed confused. Sokka gave him a smile and a wave.
Zuko unlocked the window and pushed it open. It even stayed in place, too.
“What are you doing on my fire escape?” Zuko asked, sounding bemused.
“Well, I don’t think this is technically your fire escape,” Sokka replied. “It belongs to the whole building. So, I have just as much a right to be out here as you do.”
“Right, well, I’ll just close the window now and let you go on with your business – “
“No, wait!” Sokka put his hand over Zuko’s where it was about to close the window. “Look, this is super embarrassing, but. I locked myself out of my apartment because there was a spider and I panicked; can you please help me?”
It seemed like Zuko was trying very hard to hold in a laugh. At least he was being polite.
“No way. I hate spiders and there is no chance I’m helping you get rid of one.”
Sokka wanted to hit his head against a wall. Possibly until there was a large, red lump on his forehead. “That isn’t what I meant! I just need to get inside, so I don’t freeze to death out here. I was hoping I could go through your apartment?”
“By all means,” Zuko stepped to the side and gestured sarcastically to his bedroom. Sokka was just glad to be out of the cold.
Sokka awkwardly climbed into the bedroom, doing his best not to fall. The least he could do in this situation was attempt to not embarrass himself. Well, no more than he already had.
He tried not to stare at the bedroom that he had just crash-landed into. It was the same room as his, technically, but Zuko’s decor was about as different to Sokka’s as it could get. Sokka’s style consisted of hanging up random items found at thrift stores while he hoped for the best. Zuko’s room was obviously very intentional and more refined.
“Okay, well. Thanks for the save, buddy, I guess I’ll just be going now,” Sokka went to grab his keys from his pocket and – yeah. Boxers. No pockets, no keys. Zuko looked at him with a raised eyebrow as Sokka patted at his underwear with increasing anxiety. “Well, I may have a problem.”
“Let me guess, you don’t have your keys?” Zuko did not look surprised. Sokka gave him another grin and threw his hands up awkwardly. “If someone has a spare key to your place, you can use my phone to call them. And stop with the jazz hands.”
Zuko dug his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants and shoved it into Sokka’s hands. He quietly excused himself, allowing Sokka some privacy as he punched Katara’s number into the phone.
Katara finally picked up on the third time that Sokka called her.
“Who is this and why do you keep calling my work number? This is for emergencies and only a couple of people have it, so – “ Sokka had never been so happy to hear his sister’s voice, probably ever. Though there was the time with the fishhooks, so maybe he was exaggerating.
“Katara! It’s me, chill out,” Sokka interrupted. Katara let out a long sigh on the other end of the call.
“Why are you calling me from a weird number? You know I’m at work right now.”
“Well, I kind of had an emergency and I need your help, because you’re the best sister in the world and you would do anything for your big brother?” Sokka’s tone was much closer to begging than asking.
“Is this a you’re calling me because I’m a doctor emergency, or another you’re calling me because you did something stupid emergency?”
“Look, just because all emergencies aren’t created equal doesn’t mean they aren’t all important!” Sokka huffed. “I need your help because I locked myself out of my apartment, and you’re the only one with a spare key.”
“I can come by after work, but it won’t be for a while. And you owe me . . . something!”
“Deal. Also, I’ll need you to kill a spider for me.”
“Oh my God, Sokka, fine,” She paused for a second. “Hey, you never said whose phone you’re calling on.” Sokka blushed. He had told his sister about how much he wanted to ask out his devastatingly hot neighbor. Multiple times. Yeah, there was no way he was getting out of this one.
“It’s my neighbor’s,” Sokka could hear his own voice deflating. “He, uh, let me in. Through the fire escape.”
Despite the silence on the other end, Sokka could hear the smile forming on Katara’s face.
“Like, the neighbor? The one that you were writing sonnets about and acting all mushy over?”
“I don’t do that!”
“You so do.”
“Look, it’s not important. Just. Get here as soon as you can, okay?”
Katara began to say something, but Sokka ended the call before she could get it out. She would probably be mad at him for that later, but any more of her teasing would definitely kill him. And Katara had taken the whole “do no harm” oath, so really, Sokka was doing her a favor.
Once Sokka was finished, he stepped through the bedroom door and into the hallway that led to the kitchen and the living room.
The rest of Zuko’s apartment matched his room; immaculately clean and orderly. His apartment looked like it could have come out of an Ikea catalogue. Usually, Sokka would have felt uncomfortable in a place so pristine, but it was far from intimidating.
It was in the little things. In the pairs of slippers that were scattered around, or how the throw on the couch looked impossibly soft, or the way Zuko was watching a kettle on the stove come to a boil. It all felt very welcoming.
Sokka cleared his throat before he entered the tiny kitchen. “So, my sister will be here at some point. Hopefully soon. But, seriously, thanks for the save. Hopefully next time we see each other it won’t be preceded by a giant scary spider and me freaking out.”
As Sokka said this, he realized two things. One, his incredibly hot neighbor now knew that he was a colossal idiot who was afraid of spiders. Two, said spider was still in his apartment. Living it up like some douchebag Spider King. The fucker had probably gotten into his takeout and everything.
“Yeah,” Zuko bit his lips to stop a laugh from coming out. Sokka’s gaze ended up stuck on the way his tongue smoothed over the spot before speaking again. “Must have been some spider.”
Sokka could feel his face heating up. At least his skin was dark enough to hide the worst of it. “You have no idea.”
Zuko didn’t reply. Instead, he reached into the cabinet above him and pulled down two mugs, plopping a tea bag into each of them.
“You can stay here, while you wait,” Zuko started to pour water into the mugs, but stopped suddenly. “I mean, you know, only if you want. You don’t have to if you think that’s weird, or, uh.” Zuko waffled around for a second. Sokka thought it was adorable.
“You know what, I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”
Sokka ended up taking a seat at the tiny, round dining table that separated Zuko’s living room and kitchen. It was cluttered with stacks of papers, a few journals, and Zuko’s laptop. Sokka clutched his mug of tea, something sweet and floral-smelling, and tried his best to not be nosy and read all of their titles. Zuko must have been some sort of writer. That explained why Sokka virtually never heard noise coming from the man’s apartment.
Zuko continued quietly attending to something in his kitchen, and Sokka let his eyes wander to the decor. Upon closer inspection it seemed to be a mix of modern and Japanese items. There was a large, grey couch, but also a couple of zabutons scattered around a wooden low table in the center of his living room.
The walls were mostly bare. Only a few things were displayed: a pair of dual swords, some antique masks, and a few paintings. Sokka noticed that he didn’t have too many photos of himself or his family.
Zuko finally emerged from the kitchen, balancing his own mug of tea and two bowls in his arms with surprising dexterity. He set a bowl in front of Sokka first – all it contained was white rice and a fork.
He looked at Sokka shyly as he sat down across the table. “Sorry, this was sort of all I had planned for dinner.”
“Oh, please,” Sokka reassured him. “You’re already being way too kind by sharing this.”
Zuko smiled at him. Sokka smiled back.
Sokka managed to sit in silence for approximately two and a half minutes before he was itching to say something. What could he even say in this situation? Thanks for saving me from the big, scary spider, you’re my hero! Or, the scar on your face is tragically sexy, how did you get it? Okay, no, that one might be a little insensitive.
“So,” Sokka couldn’t bear the quiet anymore and finally just said the first thing that popped in his head. “Are the swords real?”
“Yeah, they are,” Zuko answered simply, not even looking up from his rice.
“Okay, then,” Sokka paused to take a sip from his tea. “So, you must be a secret vigilante, right?”
Zuko almost choked on his food. He raised an eyebrow and looked up at Sokka. “And what makes you think that?”
“It’s obvious,” Sokka started. “You have all this work stuff strewn out, so it looks like you have a boring day job. The “antiques” that you’re using as decoration. How suspiciously quiet you are for a dude in his twenties. It’s clearly because you’re out fighting crime at night. I must say, it’s all very Daredevil of you.” Sokka crossed his arms, satisfied with his analysis.
Zuko let out a huff of a laugh and sat back in his chair. Sokka couldn’t help but notice how toned his arms looked as he folded them across his chest. The guy was skinny, but it must have been all muscle. Maybe Sokka wasn’t that far off in his anxiety-induced ramblings.
“I hate to ruin your superhero fantasy, but I’m not a vigilante,” Zuko finally said.
“Damn. Was I at least close?”
“No,” Zuko grabbed a handful of papers and pushed it across the table. The top sheet was a cover page for a short story. “I’m a writer. Not exactly a boring day job, and I’m quiet because it takes up all of my time.”
“Hmm. I guess I can work with that,” Sokka realized that was definitely a stupid thing to say. Thankfully, Zuko didn’t comment on it. “Anyways. Your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
Sokka rolled his eyes. “You have to guess what I do. Duh”
“Fine.” Zuko tapped his lip, squinting his eyes as they roved over Sokka. Sokka felt a little hot under his gaze, but he tried to ignore it. “I don’t know. I’ll just go with personal trainer. From the everything about you.”
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Sokka smirked and hooked his arm around the back of the chair, not-so-subtly flexing his biceps. Sokka knew that he looked good. He spent way too much time in the gym not to. And this was a perfect opportunity to mess with the gorgeous, awkward man sitting across from him.
Zuko’s cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. It was adorable and everything that Sokka had hoped for.
“I don’t know! You’re just, um, cheerful. And have muscles? Shut up.” Sokka couldn’t help but laugh at the way Zuko struggled to give his evidence. “Okay, that obviously wasn’t the right answer. What do you actually do?”
“I’m a civil engineer.” Zuko raised his eyebrows and nodded. Sokka could tell he had no clue what that meant. “I build roads and stuff, basically. I do a lot of math and get to boss people around.”
“Sounds like my worst nightmare,” Zuko mumbled over the top of his mug. He made a face, as if realizing maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say, and quickly added: “But I’m sure you’re great at it!”
“I like to think so, yeah,” Sokka laughed.
The two finished their rice in a comfortable silence. Usually Sokka would be rambling out of his ass by now, just to stave off any awkwardness, but he didn’t feel the need with Zuko.
“So,” Zuko said, after clearing their bowls and refilling their cups, “I just got a Switch if you want to play something?”
***
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you beat me at my own game!” Sokka threw himself back into the (very comfortable, he had found out) couch, crossing his arms as he pouted a little. “And with Kirby! This is unbelievable.”
“Hey, last time I checked Smash Bros wasn’t your game,” Zuko laughed and settled next to Sokka. He let his head rest against the back of the couch and turned his head against it in order to see Sokka. “And, obviously, Kirby is a perfectly suitable main.”
Sokka let out a huff of air in response. Their faces were about a foot apart when he turned his head, but Sokka could still see the little glimmer of triumph in Zuko’s eyes. The crinkles and lines in his face caused by the shy smile he was so obviously trying to push down was a far cry from the normal scowl Sokka was met with. It was nice. More than nice, actually.
Sokka let his eyes trace these lines as he thought about how much he had enjoyed spending the evening with Zuko. Okay, yes, it had been a while since he had gotten himself out there. But that wasn’t the only reason he enjoyed it. It was how comfortable he felt with Zuko. It was how kind Zuko was to him. It was how Zuko laughed at his terrible jokes.
It wasn’t until Zuko cleared his throat that Sokka realized he was staring. He shook his head, hoping that it would seem as if he had just zoned out. Maybe Katara was right about the whole waxing poetic thing. He needed to get himself together.
“Uh, sorry,” Sokka finally broke their eye contact in order to set the Switch controller on the table in front of him. “Must have spaced out. Did you say something?”
“No! Nothing,” Zuko blushed. He was a terrible liar.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Sokka teased.
“It’s just,” Zuko sighed and fidgeted with his own controller in his lap. “I said I think you have nice eyes. They’re really blue, like sea glass or deep water, or something.”
Sokka took a second to compute what had been said. Zuko thought he had nice eyes. Zuko thought his eyes looked like sea glass. A grin slowly spread across his own face, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Or something,” Sokka finally said.
“Yeah. Or something,” Zuko replied.
“Are you flirting with me?”
“You finally noticed,” Zuko said, looking surprised that the sentence escaped his mouth. It sounded like a question more than anything, a little unsure, a little apprehensive.
Sokka’s grin grew wider. He was speechless. Not only did Zuko think he had pretty eyes, but he was also flirting with him. Intentionally.
The two were so wrapped up in the moment that they almost didn’t notice when Zuko’s phone began to vibrate. Sokka felt himself crashing back down to earth as Zuko reached to answer the call.
He answered it with a short “Hello.” and then held out the phone to Sokka. “It’s for you.”
Right. Because the reason he was here was because he was locked out of his apartment and terribly inconvenienced, not because he was on a date.
Sokka had barely raised the phone to his ear before he could hear his sister on the other end.
“I’m in the lobby of your building and I’ll be up in a minute, so you better be there. And tell your new boyfriend to be nicer to me next time. Or else.”
“He’s not my – oh, whatever. I’ll see you in a second, Katara,” he ended the call before Katara could say anything else embarrassing. When he looked back to Zuko, the other man had a strange look in his eyes. Sadness? Disappointment? That couldn’t be it. “Well, I guess that’s me.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Sokka stood and made to gather his belongings, when he remembered he didn’t bring anything. Zuko followed a few paces behind as he walked to the door.
“Uh,” Sokka turned around before he reached for the door handle. “Thanks for letting me hang out here. It was really nice of you.”
Zuko nodded. His usual frown had returned and Sokka couldn’t help but selfishly wish that Katara hadn’t called and ruined the moment.
“See you around, then,” Sokka turned but before he could open the door, a soft hand grasped his own.
“Wait,” Zuko dropped his hand as Sokka turned back to face him. “We should, um. We should do this again some time. Not the whole you-getting-locked-out-of-your-apartment thing, but you know, hanging out. Together.”
Sokka looked at the man in front of him. He was beautiful and brave and funny, and Sokka couldn’t wait to find out what else. He grasped Zuko’s hand again and gave it a squeeze.
“I would like that. A lot.”
Zuko let out a huge sigh. “Me too.”
“So, are you sure you don’t want to kill that spider for me?”
“Get out before I change my mind, dumbass.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Sokka gave Zuko a small kiss on the cheek and left, not looking back despite how much he wanted to.
Because if he did, Sokka knew he would never want to leave. But it was okay. He could save the looking back for next time. And hopefully a third, fourth, and fifth time.
The door behind him clicked shut and Sokka victory danced all the way up to his apartment. Maybe instead of killing the spider that got him into this situation, he would have Katara capture it and set it free into the wild. It did score him a date, after all.