Chapter Text
An insignificant Earth Kingdom town. Not too big their reputation and image would proceed them, not too small they can't blend in.
Perfect.
They're at a festival—for what, Sokka doesn't know. He'd stopped learning the Earth Kingdom's written language when his father had left: there had been no one to teach him. And with the world at war, it had seemed trivial, a waste of time better spent protecting his tribe. Now, he wished he hadn't given it up.
He wished he'd bothered to learn a little of the Fire Nation dialect and written language, too. Zuko could speak the Southern Water Tribe language—his royal education gave him fluency in all the world languages—but occasionally he'd say something to Sokka in Fire Nation, and Sokka longed to know what it was.
Then there were the marks.
He didn't know where Zuko's was. He must cover it up, because Sokka wasn't sure there was a part of Zuko he hadn't memorized. If he could just see it, he'd know... Or if he knew some Fire Nation, he could read his own.
Zuko had seen his. Sokka had never tried to cover it up before -- he might have, if it wasn't on his chest and therefore usually obscured by his shirt, considering the distinct language and coloring of the letters. He couldn't read Fire Nation, but the sharp characters were hard to miss. Zuko hadn't commented on it, hadn't offered to translate it. He might have even assumed Sokka already knew what it read.
Needless to say, Sokka did not know what it read.
He could get Aang to translate—but then Aang would know. And then Aang would tell Katara. Katara knew, of course, of the Fire Nation name tattooed on his skin by the spirits. But if it was Zuko... well, that would be revealing two things Sokka was just not ready to share.
Sokka scanned the crowd, trying not to make it obvious he was looking for someone. He'd sent a messenger hawk, but there was no way of knowing if it had reached its destination. He prayed to the spirits it had.
He turned to Katara, only to meet empty space. He turned back to see Katara and Aang eyeing the flowers at one of the many stalls along the street.
Ugh, we get it, you're soulmates, and you found each other, and it's so cool and rad and beautiful or whatever.
He turned to Toph, who wasn't as easily distracted.
"I'm going to shop." It wasn't technically a lie. "Make sure the lovebirds don’t get kidnapped." Sokka almost gestured back, but stopped himself. Blind. Right.
Once he was a good distance away from the rest of his party (and after a short shopping excursion, because there were so many vendors and he just couldn't help himself), Sokka began his search in earnest. They usually met on the highest rooftop, which was...
Sokka scanned his surroundings.
There. A building so tall he wouldn't be able to see if there was someone atop it.
He hoped there was.
He braced himself in the alley next to the building. He was... okay at parkour. He was no Blue Spirit, though, and it showed. Sokka was almost grateful to find an empty rooftop when he finally clamored up; he didn't want Zuko to see the great force it took for him haul himself and his noodle limbs over the top of the wall and onto the roof.
He sat, facing the sun, and waited.
It was almost sunset by the time Sokka felt the familiar presence of the cloaked boy slide next to him. He didn't ask why he was late; he never did. It was tacit between the two boys. Sokka was fairly sure Zuko had given up his hunt, but he hadn't explicitly said so. Sokka wasn't sure he wanted to know. He didn't like thinking about that stuff with Zuko; besides, when he was with him, there wasn't much room in his head for anything other than Zuko.
"Hey," the rough voice came from beneath the hood. Sokka turned to the boy and pulled down his hood. This high up, no one else could see them.
Golden eyes met blue. And spirits, were his eyes gold. Amber eyes were common in the Fire Nation—but not eyes like Zuko's. Not eyes so pure and solid from afar, then revealed a thousand different colors like a kaleidoscope when you got closer.
Sokka pulled Zuko closer.
He held Zuko's face in his hands and kissed him. His lips were warm; they always were. It must be a firebender thing.
After what felt both like hours and mere seconds simultaneously, the two separated. Zuko leaned into Sokka's side and Sokka leaned against his. Together, they watched the sunset.
With his arms around the shorter boy (who really wasn't that much shorter), Sokka could forget the war. The Avatar. Their quest.
It was just him and Zuko.
"I missed you," Sokka spoke quietly to the other boy. No one could hear them up here, but it felt private; a message only for Zuko.
Zuko twisted his head to kiss Sokka. "I missed you, too," he whispered into Sokka's mouth; what felt private to Sokka was infinitely more so for the banished prince. Sokka understood. It was only natural, given what Zuko's past. Zuko had only told him a little about his childhood, and Sokka hoped one day he could hear the full story—but for now, he knew enough to appreciate when what was private to Zuko was shared with him.
Sokka took out the fire lily he had bought earlier (from a different flower shop than the one Katara and Aang were occupying) and tucked it into Zuko's topknot. Zuko smiled, turning back to the sunset to hide his blush.
When the darkness was nearly complete, Zuko stood up, offering Sokka his hand. He didn't let go after pulling Sokka up.
"C'mon," he said softly, and Sokka let Zuko lead him carefully down until they had reached the balcony of one of the rooms in the building. Zuko removed a pin hidden in his topknot and expertly picked the lock, opening the french doors to reveal a small hotel room, complete with a full-size four-post bed.
Sokka hesitated, knowing their time was limited.
"I know you have to go," Zuko said, and looked up into Sokka's eyes, "but stay awhile?"
Sokka grinned down at Zuko. Instead of answering verbally, he swiftly lifted the smaller boy off his feet and carried him to the bed. Zuko let out a very un-Zuko giggle, which made Sokka grin wider.
He placed Zuko onto the bed, hovering over him for a moment, which Zuko used to flip them so he was above Sokka.
Sokka stared into golden eyes, and suddenly the name on his chest didn't matter as much.
Zuko watched the gentle rise and fall of Sokka's chest as he breathed. He so rarely got to see him like this, since they could never spend a full night together.
He should wake him up. He would wake him up. Eventually.
Sokka had to leave, and Zuko did, too.
But Sokka looked so peaceful. He could wait a few more minutes.
His eyes drifted to the sharp red letters decorating his chest, placed just over his heart. He reached out a hand, but stopped himself before he touched the mark.
Sokka had to leave. He should wake him up.
Just a few more minutes.