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Zuko woke to the smell of something sweet wafting from the kitchen, and his best friend’s voice crooning along to the rock music playing softly from the radio.
It was a normal way to wake up on a Sunday. Neither of them worked on Sundays, and Sokka had taken to making breakfast for the both of them. It was a pleasant routine to get used to after living in a stuffy dorm together for three years. But that was in the past. Now, they had their own little apartment near campus, and sure一the paint was peeling in some places, and the faucet in the bathroom was leaky, and the old wooden floors creaked with every step taken一but it was theirs, and that's why Zuko loved it so much. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was hopelessly in love with the guy he shared his space with, but that was beside the point.
Zuko stretched before getting out of bed, slipping his feet into his ratty pair of Pikachu slippers that had seen better days. He padded out of his room and to the kitchen, where Sokka was standing at the stove with his back to the doorway, now softly humming and swaying his hips to Dreams by Fleetwood Mac. Sokka's music taste was as colorful as his personality, but it was also a great way to read his mood. When he listened to classic rock like this morning, it meant he was feeling relaxed; at peace with himself and his life for the time being.
Sokka wasn't wearing a shirt, and Zuko took a moment to admire the broad expanse of his shoulders. He longed to touch that soft brown skin, run his hands through Sokka's messy hair, which was currently out of its usual ponytail and hanging every which way.
Shaking his head to clear his mind of those thoughts, Zuko quietly walked up to peer over Sokka's shoulder at the frying pan on the stove.
"What are you making?" he murmured quietly.
Sokka startled, letting out a yelp and dropping the spatula he had been using to poke the contents of the pan. "Jeez, how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that! We need to get you a bell or something," he exclaimed through a breathy laugh.
Zuko grinned up at Sokka. He looked back at the pan and saw two pieces of round, fluffy deliciousness sizzling in butter.
"Pancakes?" he asked with a raised brow, "I thought you said you were never eating pancakes again?"
That admission came after a night of one too many shots. Zuko had drunkenly made them a batch of Japanese souffle pancakes in the middle of the night, but despite his best efforts, Sokka still threw up everything he had eaten the next morning. He remembered laughing at Sokka’s expense as he groaned I'm never eating pancakes again, Zuko into the toilet
Sokka rolled his eyes and waved his hands dismissively. "That was forever ago. Besides, it's your favorite," he muttered, looking away from Zuko and flipping both pancakes in the pan.
Zuko's heart fluttered at the thought of Sokka doing something so thoughtful just for him, and quickly moved to sit at their small kitchen table before he did something stupid like kiss his best friend.
God, I'm pathetic, he thought, losing it over pancakes. Get a hold of yourself.
Sokka set the spatula down and turned around to face Zuko, leaning with his elbows on the counter and his legs crossed at the ankles. "What are you doing today?" he asked.
Zuko shrugged and looked down at his hands. "I was planning on staying in and getting caught up on a paper."
"That's lame," Sokka said with a smirk.
"You're lame," Zuko grumbled. He avoided Sokka's gaze so the other man wouldn't see the smile pulling at his lips.
"We can watch a movie after we eat, if you want," Sokka suggested. Zuko noticed that he was fiddling with his hands, almost nervously.
Zuko sighed. "Fine. I guess one movie wouldn't hurt." It wasn't a hard decision to make in the end. Sitting flush against Sokka's side on their too small couch for a couple hours, or diving head first into his paper? It was a no-brainer.
Sokka's eyes lit up, which made Zuko's heart melt. He would do anything to put that look on Sokka's face. To make him happy.
Zuko blamed that part of himself for what happened next.
Sokka had just finished dividing the pancakes evenly onto two plates, when the first notes of You're My Best Friend by Queen tinkled through the speakers of the radio. Sokka stood up straight and turned until his eyes met Zuko's, a devilish look on his face.
"Oh no," Zuko groaned.
"Oh, yes! As my best friend, you totally have to dance with me right now!" Sokka chirped.
He marched the short distance over to Zuko and grabbed both of his hands, pulling the shorter man into a standing position. Zuko was reminded of how strong Sokka was when he stumbled right into Sokka's chest from the force of the pull. He looked up in embarrassment, but Sokka didn't seem deterred. Instead, he held tighter onto Zuko's hands and pulled him away from the table where they would have more space to dance.
Ooh, you make me live
Whatever this world can give to me
It's you you're all I see
Ooh, you make me live now honey
Ooh, you make me live
Zuko grudgingly followed Sokka's steps as he waltzed them back and forth around their small kitchen. He had never been a good dancer, which was obvious in the way he kept stepping on Sokka's feet. He would have fallen a few times because his Pikachu slippers had no traction on the linoleum floor, had it not been for the steadying hand Sokka placed on his waist. The action brought a flush to his cheeks. He dared to glance up at Sokka, who had an incredibly soft look on his face.
Then Sokka opened his mouth and began to sing. To him. For him. He had a lovely voice when he was trying. Zuko could listen to it forever.
Oh, you're the best friend that I ever had
I've been with you such a long time
You're my sunshine and I want you to know
That my feelings are true
I really love you
Oh, you're my best friend
Without realizing it, they both slowed their steps until they were no longer dancing, but just standing there and searching each other's eyes. Zuko felt like Sokka could see right through him to those pesky feelings that were bubbling up to the surface, like a volcano ready to erupt, threatening to overwhelm him at any moment. But there was something in Sokka’s eyes that told him it would be okay if he burst open, if he revealed that part of himself he had pushed away for so long.
The song continued to play in the background, but they weren't paying attention anymore. Sokka leaned further into Zuko's space, eyes beginning to slip shut. He pressed his lips to Zuko's, who stood frozen. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. After pining for Sokka from basically the moment they met, this didn't feel real. Because good things like this didn't happen to Zuko, and he didn't deserve them.
After a moment of hesitation on Zuko's behalf, Sokka began to pull away, withdrawing into himself. He stuttered out an apology that made Zuko’s heart clench. He was so weak for this man; he couldn't bear the feeling of Sokka leaving him, couldn’t stand the fact that he made Sokka believe his touches were unwanted. In a rare moment of bravery, he yanked his hand out of Sokka's, grabbed his hips and pulled him back in.
Kissing Sokka was like being broken apart and put back together again. Everything he felt for his best friend was poured into each soft press of lips, each graze of skin-on-skin. He vaguely registered Sokka's hands coming up to frame his face, the thumb of his right hand resting just underneath his scar. A cruel reminder of his father's abuse. But maybe it could be something else. A testament to how much he trusted Sokka, to let him in like this and give him everything he had to offer.
Eventually, they broke apart, breathing heavily. Both looking at each other, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
"You look so pretty when you blush, you know that?" Sokka whispered, brushing a hand over Zuko's cheek. Zuko felt said blush grow darker at the compliment, and averted his gaze. Instead of saying anything, he stepped forward until they were pressed together, chest to hip.
Sokka understood what he wanted and wrapped his arms around him tightly. It felt so good to just be held by him. Zuko buried his face in Sokka's warm neck, feeling his pulse throb rapidly against his face. He did that. He made Sokka feel like that. A small smile came to his lips at the thought.
After a minute, he pulled away, looking down and taking Sokka's hands. They were shaking. Zuko looked up at him with a furrowed brow.
"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.
Sokka was quiet for a moment. He took in a shaky breath that was as unstable as his hands and blew it out in a rush. A strand of hair lifted over his eye from the breeze, then fell back into its original spot.
"Yeah, I just…." he trailed off, suddenly seeming shy. A hysterical little laugh escaped his mouth, followed by, "I've wanted to do that for a long time, is all."
Zuko knew that if anyone looked at him right now, he would probably have cartoon hearts exploding out of where his eyes should be. "Me too," he whispered in response to Sokka's confession.
Sokka sighed, contentedly. "You ready to eat?" he asked, a question that seemed to break the magical bubble that they were living in.
"Oh一uh, right. Food. Breakfast. I'll just-" he took a step back towards the table, glancing up at Sokka as he did so. He had such a fond expression on his face that Zuko had to look away before he kissed him again.
Sokka grabbed their plates and brought them to the table. He heated up some maple syrup for their pancakes and grabbed some whipped cream from the fridge as he did so. Zuko rolled his eyes at Sokka's tendency to overdo it on the sugar.
When Sokka finally sat down, he grabbed the syrup first and poured it over his pancakes. As he passed the bottle over to Zuko, he paused. Zuko looked at him with a question on the tip of his tongue, but Sokka began to speak before he could say anything.
"You know I love you so much, right?" Sokka asked, in that beautifully earnest way of his.
Zuko looked at him, at the adoration in his eyes, his kiss-swollen lips, and smiled.
"Yeah," he murmured, "I know."
They picked up their forks and began to eat.