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Zuko was used to nightmares. He had them… regularly, to say the least. They weren’t as bad as they once were (thanks, therapy!), but he still couldn’t go a month without having a nightmare. They used to be about his atrocity of a childhood with his dad, or his mom, or Azula, or Jet, or just random, seemingly meaningless anxiety dreams. Recently, though, they’d taken to attacking a different one of his innermost insecurities.
The first nightmare of this, well, variety was about his friends. In his sleep, he had convinced himself that they hated him. He never had friends to begin with. Even Sokka, his best friend/roommate, was gone. Sokka wasn’t actually in the nightmare at all. That might seem less worrying, but Zuko’s half-asleep brain was concerned by his absence.
Zuko stumbled into the kitchen five minutes later under the pretense of fetching a glass of water. Of course, he found Sokka passed out on the couch in their living room. It was a bad habit of Sokka’s, but Zuko was glad for it on this particular night. He thought about how he’d last seen Sokka several hours earlier. He was incredibly invested in a reality TV show that always came on late, but he could never make it through a whole episode without passing out. It would’ve been endearing, but Zuko was still freaked out from the nightmare.
He sat down next to Sokka on the couch, trying not to disturb him. Of course, though, Sokka’s eyes snapped open instantaneously. His whole body tensed, and Zuko thought he might jump into some fighter position. He didn't do that, though. Instead, he softened instantaneously when he saw it was Zuko.
"What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack? Give a guy some warning next time, Zuko," Sokka teased.
"Sorry, I…" Zuko shot Sokka a nervous smile, willing him to not see exactly what he was feeling. That, of course, did not work.
Sokka's face scrunched up in thought for a moment before he casually put his arm around Zuko’s shoulders. "Penny for your thoughts?"
He leaned into the touch, trying not to seem too desperate for comfort. "Nightmare," was all he could say.
Sokka tightened his grip on his shoulder. Zuko was afraid he was going to ask something stupid, or something that Zuko couldn’t answer, like, “Are you okay?” or, worse, “What was it about?”
Thankfully, Sokka didn’t ask anything. He just hummed and started flipping through the channels on the TV. It might have seemed insensitive, but it was what Zuko needed. He just wanted company. He really didn’t feel like being grilled, or talking, or explaining, or…
Sokka landed on some cooking show. It was either incredibly boring, or maybe Zuko’s mind was just numb. Either way, he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention. The captions scrolling across the bottom of the screen sent him into a sort of peaceful trance.
One minute he was staring mindlessly at the TV, the next he was waking up with his body fully underneath Sokka’s. He had no idea how they had ended up like this, but it didn’t feel wrong, necessarily. He couldn’t bring himself to wake Sokka up, so he just stayed still. The cooking channel was still on, but now it was on some morning show. The host was almost done demonstrating how to make a breakfast smoothie (with copious amounts of alcohol) when Sokka woke up.
It was nice, seeing Sokka wake up. His body was awake before his eyes. Arms stretching and muscles tensing. It took a minute, but when his eyes did open, they flew directly to Zuko’s face. Blue on gold. It was a lovely split second before Sokka tumbled off the couch.
“Sorry!” he yelled from the floor, as if he had ended up on top of Zuko on purpose. Zuko couldn’t keep himself from snickering as he sat up.
“I didn’t know you were such a cuddler, Sokka.” Zuko’s words were teasing, but he still couldn’t keep the flush off of his face.
Sokka groaned, still sitting on the floor. “It’s not my fault we fell asleep on our─ very small, by the way─ couch. There was only so much room!”
Zuko tensed as he remembered the night before. He had never really confided in Sokka about the nightmares. He knew he didn’t tell him any details, but now Sokka knew he still had them.
Back when they first moved in together, they would talk for ages about their traumatic pasts. They’d both seen “professionals” since, and everything was supposed to be better. It was better, in comparison, but things weren’t perfect.
“I still have nightmares too, you know,” Sokka said, breaking through Zuko’s spiralling thoughts.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Zuko was puzzled for a second before realizing that Sokka had guessed what he was thinking. And was associating his flushed cheeks with embarrassment at the nightmares.
Oh.
“I’m not embarrassed,” he replied honestly. “I just hoped things would be back to whatever ‘normal’ is by now.”
Sokka looked thoughtful for a second before his eyes lit up. “I know what’ll cheer you up!”
Zuko grinned nervously. That
look
in Sokka’s eyes wasn’t always the best thing. It was a
little
endearing, though. “What is it?”
“It’s a surprise!” Sokka declared as he jumped up, running to the kitchen. “Stay there, and relax, Zuko!”
Zuko cracked his knuckles anxiously, but he let Sokka continue with the ‘surprise.’ He seemed so excited about it, after all. Zuko didn’t want to ruin his fun.
Within ten minutes, smoke was filling the apartment. A few “ shit s” and “ fuck s” were drifting into the living room from the kitchen. It was, perhaps, more than a little worrying. Zuko went to the kitchen to see what the hell Sokka was doing.
He was standing over a pan of what looked like bacon. Very crispy bacon. In a grease fire. Sokka put the pan in the sink and turned on the water, which only made the flame bigger. Because it was a grease fire, dumbass. It was, to say the least, very distressing. Zuko usually did the cooking, and this was why.
The smoke alarm was going off now, so he decided to make his entrance. Sokka was wide-eyed and coughing. “Hey, Zuko! You wouldn’t happen to know how to put out a fire, would you?”
Zuko turned the water off and put the lid to the pan over it, extinguishing the fire. He also turned off the stove eye. Sokka was already opening the windows to clear the air.
The smoke was starting to clear out after a few minutes, but it still smelled horrible. Luckily, the bedrooms were mostly unaffected, so they evacuated to Sokka’s room.
Sokka collapsed onto his bed face-first. Zuko opted to sit in Sokka’s desk chair, spinning around passively.
“So,” Zuko started. He paused intentionally and Sokka groaned.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sokka said into the mattress.
Zuko should have been more concerned about what just happened, but he wasn’t. He had put out a ridiculous amount of kitchen fires in his time. He was a chef, after all. They rarely went a month at the restaurant without some sort of fire.
“That was quite the surprise, Sokka.” Zuko tried to keep his tone even, but some humor must have leaked into it.
“Shut up.” Sokka rolled over and sat up. “I was trying to make you breakfast in bed... or something like that.”
He hadn’t actually thought about what Sokka had been trying to do. He met Sokka’s eyes for a moment, only to break away, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “Oh.”
“You had a rough night and… You usually cook. I just wanted to give you a break.” Sokka was twiddling with his thumbs.
It was a little overwhelming, having someone care about him enough to do that. Zuko really didn’t know how to respond. There might have even been a tear in his eye, somewhere. Not that he would admit that, though.
His body moved without his consent, and he was hugging Sokka.
It wasn’t a very long hug. Zuko pulled back once he realized what he was doing. Sokka didn’t even have time to respond.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. He was standing by the door now, ready to bolt. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Sokka. “I didn’t know what to say.”
Sokka laughed, much to Zuko’s surprise. It wasn’t even a cruel laugh. “It’s okay, Zuko. It was just a hug. I love hugs. You can hug me whenever you want, really.”
Zuko let out a relieved breath. “Thank you, Sokka. I never…” He looked back at Sokka, who was now smoothing wrinkles out of his comforter with a pleased look on his face. “Can I teach you how to cook, sometime?”
Sokka glanced at him. “Why? Did you not enjoy putting out the fire? I thought it added a certain
pizazz
to the day.”
Zuko laughed. “I’d put out fires for you any day, Sokka, but I’d really prefer there be no fire to begin with. It’s almost like you’re trying to lose our safety deposit on this place.”
“Yeah. I think I’ll have to take you up on that offer.” Sokka looked him in the eye. “I wouldn’t want to lose the deposit.”
They both dissolved into snickers and laughs.
That wasn’t the last time Zuko had a nightmare. It
was
the last time Sokka caught the kitchen on fire, though. Thankfully.
Zuko automatically went to Sokka everytime he had a nightmare now. Normally, he could never fall back asleep after a nightmare, but he fell asleep almost instantaneously when he was with Sokka. He attributed it to his fear of being alone. It was probably an accurate assumption, anyway. It certainly didn’t hurt, though, that Sokka, apparently, got cold at nighttime and appreciated the extra warmth. Sometimes it was the couch, sometimes it was Sokka’s bed. They were always together on those nights, regardless.
Sokka always helped Zuko make breakfast on those mornings. Zuko would let him stir the pancake mix, or he would stand over Sokka’s shoulder as he scrambled the eggs. He never let him cook the bacon, though. Zuko wouldn’t be fooled twice.
It all felt very… Zuko couldn’t place his finger on the word. Intimate. Maybe “domestic”, but that felt too heavy. Everything they were doing was platonic. They were friends, not family. He couldn’t deny the jump in his stomach that he felt when thinking about Sokka in a familial sense. And he wasn’t thinking about brotherly love.
They had been close before, but now they were clos er. Waking up beside each other. Cooking together. Sitting down to watch TV every night on routine. It felt… nice.
Zuko had learned things about Sokka that, before, he had never even noticed. He really liked routines, first of all. Even if it was loose, it was definitely a routine. He did everything by routine. He woke up in the mornings and did the exact same things everyday. He had even fit Zuko into it on days that they did their… thing. It was kind of funny. Zuko did nothing on routine. He went to work when he was scheduled, brushed his teeth when he thought about it, did laundry when he was out of clothes, sometimes later, and woke up at a different time everyday. Complete opposites, in that aspect.
He had tried to talk to Sokka about his routines once, but he denied having any routine. He said he just “does what needs to be done.”
The routines were the reason Zuko knew something was wrong when Sokka knocked on his door that night. It wasn’t that Sokka never broke his routines, but this was something he had never done before. Ever. Never even mentioned doing it. It was entirely spontaneous.
Zuko was playing Minecraft when Sokka knocked on the door. It scared him a little, but he called for Sokka to come in anyway. Zuko did a double-take. Sokka’s eyes were bloodshot, and he had definitely been crying. Zuko had seen Sokka cry before, but it felt different this time.
It was 3am and Sokka was here. In Zuko’s bedroom. Crying.
Zuko got up from his desk immediately. “What happened?”
Sokka stared, hard, at the ground. “Nightmare,” he mumbled.
He knew Sokka still had nightmares, but he had trouble connecting that a nightmare had done this to Sokka. Did he go through them alone usually? How frequently did he get them? What could Zuko do? It felt like deja vu, but Zuko was still clueless.
He took a tentative step towards Sokka, only to have Sokka fully launch himself at Zuko. Zuko almost fell over, but stabilized himself at the last second using Sokka. Sokka was clutching tightly, so Zuko returned the pressure of the hug. Zuko didn’t have a lot of experience hugging people, but Sokka, obviously, needed this.
It didn’t take long for the sobs to start. Zuko, without letting go of him, moved so they could sit on the bed. Sokka’s face was pressed into Zuko’s shoulder, and his whole body was shaking. Zuko still didn't really know what to do, but he continued holding Sokka, whose hands were still fisted tightly in his shirt.
Once the sobbing had calmed down to hiccups, Zuko started rubbing circles into Sokka’s back. Some time after that, they ended up horizontal next to each other. Sokka’s face was still pressed into Zuko’s shirt, and Zuko wondered if he was getting good oxygen.
The hand rubbing circles moved into Sokka’s hair, playing with it gently. Sokka flinched back, and Zuko removed his hand immediately.
“No!” Sokka said, grabbing Zuko’s wrist as it retreated. “Don’t stop.”
Zuko looked at Sokka warrily.
“Please.”
Sokka leaned into the touch as Zuko weaved his fingers through his hair. There was still an occasional tear escaping his eye, but he hadn’t retreated back into Zuko’s chest yet. Laying nose to nose, Sokka’s eyes were closed. Zuko could see everything, down to the individual eyelashes resting on Sokka’s face. It felt wrong to look, though. Somehow.
Zuko continued playing with Sokka’s hair, even after Sokka had fallen asleep. He couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep, not on purpose. What if Sokka woke up again? Left with his thoughts, Zuko compared and contrasted this occasion with his own nightmares. The only major differences were that Sokka was in his bed, and he was awake while Sokka slept, and Sokka was much better at this than he was. He wondered what had scared Sokka so badly, and if their nightmares were similar, content-wise.
His eyes were shutting involuntarily when Sokka, despite appearing completely asleep, started talking. “Why did you let me in? You didn't have to comfort me.”
Zuko’s eyes snapped wide open. Sokka was gazing at him sleepily. Nothing felt real. His mouth was moving faster than his brain.
“I love you.”
He almost took it back, but it was true. No point in lying. He thought about how nice it felt to have Sokka’s feet resting in his lap while they watch TV, how they would cook together and he would rest his chin on Sokka’s shoulder to make sure he was doing it right. He thought about how he was hyper-aware of Sokka. How he wanted to hold him and how Sokka felt like family already. Love was the word. Besides, Sokka told Zuko he loved him all the time.
“I love you too, Zuko,” Sokka replied before curling into his chest and falling back asleep.
Of course, Sokka had taken it as a friendly thing, and that wasn’t wrong, necessarily. Zuko did love Sokka as a friend. His heart was beating a little too fast for that to be all, though.
Zuko woke up the next morning, the sun shining brightly through the window, with a lump on his chest. Literally. There were blue eyes beside him, staring intently. An arm was thrown across him.
“Sokka?” he breathed out. His throat was coated in the typical morning mucus.
Sokka, much like their first night together, jumped. This time, however, they were in a bed, so he didn't fall to the floor.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” Sokka teased with a grin. Zuko could smell his nasty morning breath. His eyes lingered on Sokka’s lips for a moment before he closed them altogether.
“What time is it?” He stretched his arms out above him. Sokka hadn’t moved; his arm was still laying across Zuko’s torso.
“It’s eleven. You don’t have work today.”
Zuko risked a glance towards Sokka, only to find him still staring at him. There was nothing to indicate that he intended on stopping anytime soon.
“Great,” Zuko croaked. He moved to sit up, but Sokka’s arm tightened on him. He looked questioningly at Sokka, who had a very serious, un-Sokkalike look on his face.
“Zuko. Did you mean what you said last night?”
Zuko opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried to recount what they had talked about. “What did I say last night? I’m sorry, I’m still half-asleep.”
Sokka flushed and broke the dizzying eye-contact. It came back to Zuko then. He joined Sokka in being a blushing mess.
Sokka went to get out of bed. “If you don’t remember, it’s not-”
Zuko grabbed his hand. Sokka snapped his head back towards him. Zuko took a steadying breath before whispering, “I meant it. I meant it so much.”
Sokka closed his eyes before piercing Zuko with a look, and Zuko didn’t know what the look meant, but it made him squirm. “Say it again?”
Zuko desperately wanted to move, or break eye contact, or anything, but he couldn’t. He leaned closer to Sokka. His voice came out stronger than he felt. “I love you, Sokka.”
Sokka grinned widely. He was leaning in too. “I meant it too.”
Zuko pursed his lips. There was barely an inch between them. “Say it again?” he mimicked.
Sokka laughed softly. “I love you so much, Zuko. Always have. Probably always will. Now-”
Zuko didn’t let him finish. He grabbed Sokka’s face with both hands. Sokka’s eyes were wide as Zuko kissed him firmly.
Later, when they were cooking breakfast for lunch, Zuko couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. The word he had been looking for all along was love.
He couldn’t remember falling for Sokka. There was no exact moment in time where he just knew. The little moments definitely added up, though, and Zuko wanted to tell everyone about them. Write a novel, a poem, a song. For now, though…
Sokka rested his head on Zuko’s shoulder as he fried the bacon.
“You’re going to get grease in your eyes,” Zuko warned.
“Whatever,” Sokka moved even closer. “It’s worth it.”
Zuko just shook his head and kept cooking. And, if Sokka was trying to distract him so they could do other things?
They wouldn’t put water on the grease fire this time.