Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sokka didn’t like online classes.

The first semester of all his classes going fully, intentionally online had been an absolute shitshow. Not only did none of his professors know how to use technology, they also apparently forgot how to teach effectively when talking to a camera and not a room full of people. There were only so many awkward silences Sokka could take before the second-hand embarrassment got the best of him and he jumped in with a comment to help the professor along.

The second semester went a little smoother. A lot more of his classes were what his university called “asynchronous,” meaning he could do schoolwork and watch lectures on his own time. It made time management difficult, but by the end of the semester, Sokka had found a passion for colour coded schedules.

When school started again in September, a vaccine had been created and was slowly being disseminated around the world. To be safe, his university had chosen to stay online for another semester and give students a chance to receive the vaccine before going back to in person classes the following term.

Sokka had been vaccinated months ago, along with everyone else he knew, so it was a little annoying that classes were still online, despite the lowered risk of contracting the virus. However, Sokka was starting to enjoy Zoom classes a little bit more, because he was finally realizing just how great Zoom was.

Sokka had a class at 10 in the morning? He could roll out of bed five minutes before and still make it to class on time.

He was having a bad hair day? He could turn off the camera.

He was bored in class? He could snoop on his classmates.

And snoop on his classmates he did. He learned things about his classmates that he never would have if classes were in person. He learned that Eve would get up and walk into her kitchen every morning at 10:15 and return with a truly delicious-looking cup of coffee. Jackson would sit outside and yell at his neighbours. Wen had perfected the art of falling asleep upright.

And then… there was Zuko.

Sokka had noticed Zuko on the first day of class—his eyes were drawn to him like a magnet. Zuko was drop dead gorgeous. Why this apparent model was sitting in on Sokka’s astronomy lecture was beyond him, but Sokka wasn’t going to complain, because wow.

Zuko was way more interesting to look at than Professor Piandao (sorry, Piandao), so he kept the guy pinned to the screen. It was almost necessary, given all there was to see about him. Like how he had long black hair, and dark brown eyes, and what looked like a massive burn scar over the left side of his face. Sometimes, Zuko would tuck his hair behind his left ear, and Sokka could see that the scar stretched further back, into his hairline and over his ear.

Every so often, Zuko would turn his head like someone was addressing him, then reach off camera and come back with a steaming cup of something. Sokka hadn’t yet determined what this hot beverage was, but he was willing to wait and find out.

Sokka had also learned that Zuko had at least three cats. If he had more, they were either identical to the other cats, or hadn’t deigned to show themselves on camera yet.

On one memorable occasion, an orange cat which Sokka had nicknamed Goose walked in front of Zuko’s camera, then sent an incoherent keysmash to the entire chat. Zuko had quickly moved Goose off his keyboard and typed out a quick apology, but Piandao had waved it off good-naturedly.

There was so much to learn about Zuko that it wasn’t until the third class when he noticed that Zuko’s background was almost as interesting as the rest of him. Behind him was a red wall, and in the space to the left of Zuko’s head stood a tall bookshelf, crammed full of books. Sokka tried to determine what kind of books Zuko liked over the course of multiple lectures, but couldn’t make out any of the titles through the pixelated screen.

And then he saw the swords. He didn’t know how he missed them—except he did, Zuko was very beautiful and extremely distracting—so he spent a long time just looking at the easy elegance of the curved blades, how artfully they’d been arranged on Zuko’s wall.

It gave Sokka exactly what he hadn’t known he needed: a conversation starter.

Sokka opened up the chat window on Zoom, changed the settings so he was only sending the message to Zuko, then typed out the message and sent it before he could lose his nerve.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

i see you wield dual blades.

Sokka watched Zuko’s face closely to see if he read the message, to see if he would make a move to reply. Sokka held his breath—then eventually let it out when Zuko barely moved a muscle. He looked again to the chat box. Did it not send? Was his internet connection being spotty again? It couldn’t be the internet—the video quality was fine, and it looked as if the message had been sent.

Sokka tried to pretend that he wasn’t disappointed. He slumped back into his chair, then actually decided to pay attention to Piandao’s lecture, unmuting himself every so often to ask a question or give a comment.

When Piandao was starting to wrap up the lecture, someone messaged the chat. Sokka almost didn’t read it, thinking it was someone asking a question, but then he saw Zuko’s name and the Privately in brackets, meaning that Zuko had sent him a message back.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

?

No, I’m gay.

Sokka barely had the time to stop his video so no one could see his eyes widen and jaw drop before Piandao was ending the lecture. Sokka stared at the pop-up telling him that the host had ended the meeting and watched the seconds count down until the window closed on its own.

Zuko—gorgeous Zuko with the three cats and a love of both hot drinks and pointy weapons—was gay? Out of all the responses Sokka could have gotten, this was the last one he expected. Not that Sokka was complaining, of course, because this information was exactly what he wanted. Zuko telling Sokka that he was gay opened up so many more avenues for conversation, and Sokka would be damned if he wasn’t going to take full advantage of this new knowledge.

It wasn’t until Sokka got up from his desk when he noticed his bi pride flag on the wall behind him. All at once, Zuko’s response made a lot more sense. He must have thought Sokka was making a reference to being bisexual with the dual blades comment, and corrected Sokka’s assumption.

Sokka reached out to pat the flag like a well-behaved pet. “You’re the best,” he said to the flag, then went to get a snack.

— — —

Sokka kept on messaging Zuko.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

finally piandao is getting into the
good stuff.

there’s only so much about newton
i can take.

After an agonizing wait, Zuko finally responded.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

What’s wrong with Newton?

He seems like a nice enough guy.

Sokka had never been so frustrated in his life when Piandao ended the lecture less than a minute later. Sokka didn’t even have time to formulate a proper answer before the Zoom call cut out.

The next lecture, Sokka sporadically sent messages as he tried to fully explain his perspective on Newton.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

okay, so it’s not like i hate newton
or anything

he’s a cool guy

without him, we wouldn’t know that
space and earth are subject to the same
physical laws, isn’t that crazy?

it’s just that there’s way more interesting
things about astronomy once we get
past all this boring history stuff

like, piandao’s probably going to get into
nuclear fusion soon, and that’s when shit
gets juicy

there are theories about how nuclear
fusion can power stars, that describe
how stars form, live, and die

you can’t tell me that’s not the coolest
shit you’ve ever heard

By the end of lecture, Zuko still hadn’t responded. Sokka was starting to think that he went a bit overboard with the seven back-to-back messages. Maybe Zuko didn’t want to deal with Sokka’s rambling about Newton and physics theories.

Sokka figured that was fair enough. Just because Zuko was gay didn’t mean that he was interested in keeping up conversation with Sokka, no matter how much Sokka wanted to get to know Zuko.

But then a new message came through, right when Piandao was starting to thank everyone for showing up.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

Wow.

You’re really passionate about this stuff.

What’s your major?

Why Zuko thought Sokka would have the time to respond to his question, Sokka would never know. And it’s not like Sokka didn’t try—right before he had the chance to press ‘Enter’ on his keyboard, Piandao ended the lecture. Sokka’s reply was lost to the Zoom ethernet forever.

Once Sokka got over his frustration, his earlier fears about annoying Zuko evaporated. Surely, if Zuko didn’t want Sokka to message him, he wouldn’t respond, right? And he definitely wouldn’t ask Sokka questions about himself. It almost seemed like Zuko wanted to keep the conversation going.

Which didn’t help Sokka understand why Zuko only messaged him back at the end of lecture. If Zuko replied when Sokka initially sent all those messages, they could have had a whole conversation before the lecture was over.

Sokka didn’t understand it, but he got used to the pattern. He would message Zuko throughout the lecture whenever he had a comment he wanted to share, then wait for Zuko’s response. And Zuko always responded—it was just at the very end of lecture, when Sokka couldn’t reply before Piandao ended the meeting.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

i’m a physics and astronomy double
major

what’s your major?

fine 😔 don’t tell me

based on all those books behind you
i’m gonna guess you’re a literature major?
english major? something to do with books
and reading

am i close? put me out of my misery 😩

Even with Sokka’s shameless pleading for a reply, Zuko didn’t respond until the end of lecture.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

Perceptive. Yes, I’m an English major.

Your major makes sense as to why
you’re taking this class.

I’m just doing it because I need a
science credit.

The next Zoom call, Sokka was immediately responding as if no time had passed.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

only for a science credit??? noooooo

astronomy is the best

and zoom kinda sucks but piandao’s
trying to make it interesting

i think you’ll like the later stuff, based
on what’s in the syllabus. all the
beginning content is always so boring

Sokka wondered if he imagined the way that the corner of Zuko’s lips quirked up when Sokka sent the messages. He liked to think that he hadn’t.

Once again, it wasn’t until Piandao started to wrap up the lecture that Zuko replied.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

I guess I’ll have to take your word for it
that it’ll get more interesting.

But it’s not like I’m going to drop the class.

Sokka had just enough time to squeeze in a response.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

god forbid 😉 who else would i look
at the entire class?

Sokka thought that he saw Zuko’s good eye widen right before the Zoom call ended, but he couldn’t be certain. Either way, he was pretty sure that Zuko saw his message. At least, he was hoping.

So, Sokka kept on messaging Zuko. Sokka liked messaging Zuko, and it seemed that Zuko liked messaging him back.

Sokka mostly sent stuff about astronomy and what Piandao was talking about in lecture, but other times he would send jokes or little comments that he hoped would make Zuko laugh or smile on screen.

When Piandao started to explain red shift, Sokka typed out a message.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

oh no! i’m losing you, you’re looking
a little red... try coming towards me…

Zuko didn’t even a crack a smile. If anything, he looked slightly confused, but that could be due to Piandao’s lecture and not about Sokka’s attempt at a joke. Whatever the case was, Sokka tried again another day when Piandao was walking them through vectors.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

it’s not the length of the vector that
matters, it’s how you apply the force

No visual response to that one, either. When Piandao started talking about the formation of planets during the next lecture, Sokka sent another message.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

your video quality is bad… you’re
nep-tuning out

If Zuko found any of Sokka’s jokes funny, he never let it show. It only made Sokka try harder.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

you matter

unless you’re multiplied by the speed
of light squared

then you energy

The joke barely made sense, because he hadn’t linked it to what Piandao was talking about in the lecture, but he knew he had done a better job that time. Zuko’s hand flew to his mouth, curling into a fist as he coughed into it. He turned his head so his hair fell to cover his face, shoulders shaking.

Sokka was grinning like a maniac, he was sure. Maybe he was projecting, but he liked to think that Zuko started to laugh and hastily turned it into a cough to hide his amusement.

Sokka counted that as a win.

— — —

The next lecture, all three cats made an appearance on Zuko’s screen throughout the lecture. Sokka was typing out a message and sending it before he even knew what he was trying to say.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

FLUFFY BOYS!!!

what are their names???

i’ve been calling them really generic
names in my head, so i think it’s only
right that i know their real names

the orange one is Goose

the browny-red one is Beans

and the tortoiseshell one is Sir
Remington III

i’m truly doing them a disservice by
calling them that

except Sir Remy, i think he’d like that
name

As always, it wasn’t until near the end of the lecture when Zuko started to reply.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

Goose??? Why Goose???

The orange cat’s name is Jasmine,
she’s named after my uncle’s favourite
type of tea.

The browny-red one is Druk. He’s mine.

And…

Sir Remington III’s actual name is Turtle.
My half-sister named him.

I’m sure he would very much appreciate
being called Sir Remy.

This time, Sokka didn’t even try to get in a reply before the Zoom meeting ended. He was wholly focused on all the little tidbits of information that Zuko had snuck into his message, probably without him even realizing it.

Zuko didn’t understand Captain Marvel references. He had an uncle who liked Jasmine tea—perhaps that’s who was always popping into Zuko’s room to give him hot beverages—and apparently, he also had a half-sister. He must love his half-sister a whole lot if he allowed her to name his regal tortoiseshell cat Turtle.

It was a lot to comprehend in such a short amount of time.

But god, Sokka wanted to know more. He wanted to talk to Zuko outside of Zoom, outside of the tiny little chat box. All these little snippets of his personality were starting to shine through Zuko’s messages, and Sokka needed more.

And more he got. The next lecture, while Piandao was outlining the homework to be completed for next class, somebody interrupted him with a soft and raspy, “I have a quick question about the homework.”

The voice caught Sokka’s attention immediately. He’d been doodling in his notebook and hadn’t seen who had spoken, and silently cursed himself for missing it.

In his tiny rectangle at the top of the screen, Piandao smiled and said, “Sure, go ahead.”

Sokka frantically started scrolling through the thumbnails, trying to figure out who had spoken. He quickly realized that none of the students had unmuted themselves. Sokka stared at the top of his screen in confusion. If it wasn’t any of these people, then who—

“Yeah, did you want us to do up to question twelve for next class or only up to question ten?”

Sokka felt his jaw drop. None of the other students had unmuted themselves because it was Zuko who unmuted himself. Zuko, who was still pinned to his screen. Zuko, who had the most amazing, raspy, delicious voice that Sokka had ever heard. Sokka felt breathless, and he’d only heard two sentences come out of Zuko’s mouth.

Sokka didn’t even hear Piandao’s answer, because he was too busy sending messages to Zuko.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

YOUR VOICE OMFG

ZUKO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YOUR VOICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I AM

ALFHLJHFDGLGSLHLDGLK

😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱
😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

zuko i want your voice poured over
me like i’m a strawberry at a chocolate
fountain

i want to wear it like an oversized
sweater on a cold autumn day

i’m literally never going to be the
same again

The outline of the homework had come near the end of lecture this time, so Sokka didn’t have to wait very long for a response.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

You’re not very good at poetry.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

ouch.

give me another chance?

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

Fine.

Show me what you got.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

there once was a boy from zoom
who attended class from his room
his face was so hot
cats, he had a lot
and his voice just made my heart go boom

Sokka watched Zuko press his lips together like he was trying to hold in a smile and felt his heart thud a little bit harder. His chest swelled with something like pride. Even just the tiniest, barest hint of a grin from Zuko was enough to ignite butterflies in the pit of Sokka’s stomach.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

Better.

And, um.

Thank you? I think?

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

you’re very welcome

i’ll compliment you anytime 😌

And then, as if perfectly timed, the Zoom call ended.

Sokka smiled to himself. Not only had he learned what Zuko’s voice sounded like—and that low rasp was going to stay with him for a very long time—Zuko hadn’t turned down his blatant attempt at flirting. In fact, he even flirted back. Had he flirted back? Sokka thought he did.

Not for the first time, Sokka wished that he had the Zoom chat to go back and read through, if only to prove to himself that he wasn’t making this up.

And maybe to save that poem he’d made up on the fly. He was pretty proud of that. He kind of wanted to write it down and frame it on his wall, because he made Zuko smile. Or maybe he just wanted to frame Zuko’s smile and put it up on the wall.

Sokka spun around in his desk chair, looking at where he’d hung his bi pride flag. He decided that either would work.

— — —

Sokka did end up writing down his poem about Zuko. He jotted it down on a square piece of paper and stuck it on his wall next to his flag.

When he logged into Zoom for the next lecture on Friday, he kept on seeing the tiny square on the wall behind him. So maybe that was why Sokka was feeling particularly bold.

Halfway through the meeting, Druk crawled up onto Zuko’s chest, nuzzling right into his neck. Zuko hugged the cat closer and pressed his cheek to the top of Druk’s fluffy head.

Sokka almost died from the sheer adorableness that was taking place on his laptop screen, but once he recovered, he typed out a message and hit send.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

where’s my hug? 🥺

For the rest of the lecture, regret about sending the message in the first place and excitement for Zuko’s eventual response warred within him. They’d flirted before, so this wasn’t totally out of left field, but it was definitely forward. Sokka was nervous as to what Zuko’s reply would be. Would he laugh it off? Would he shoot him down? Would he let him down gently? Or worse, what if Zuko didn’t respond at all?

The end of lecture drew closer and closer, and still no reply. Sokka tried to listen to what Piandao was saying, but he couldn’t bring himself to comprehend the words when it felt like his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest.

Sokka swallowed thickly.

Zuko wasn’t going to reply. Sokka had come to terms with it. He told himself that wasn’t going to take it personally, that he wasn’t going to—

A red bubble popped up from the chat, which Sokka had closed as soon as he’d sent his message, unable to look at what he’d sent. He almost didn’t want to read it—what if it was a random student asking Piandao a question?

But… what if it was Zuko?

Sokka held his breath and opened up the chat window. As he read the message, his jaw dropped.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

Ask me on a date and maybe you’ll find out.

Sokka read the message just in time, because less than a second later, Piandao quickly said, “Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!” and ended the Zoom meeting.

Zuko wanted Sokka to ask him on a date? Zuko… wanted to go on a date with him.

A grin slowly stretched its way across Sokka’s face. Zuko wanted Sokka to ask him on a date. And Sokka was only too happy to comply.

Sokka looked up as the door to his room flew open. Katara stepped in.

“Hey Sokka, is your–” she cut off as she saw the look on Sokka’s face. He tried to stop smiling, but he couldn’t manage it. Katara’s eyes narrowed. “Why does your face look like that?”

“Zuko wants me to ask him on a date!” Sokka exclaimed, unable to keep this amazing news to himself. He rose from his chair to grab Katara by the shoulders. “Do you know what this means?”

“Who’s Zuko?”

“Who’s Zuko?” Sokka repeated, crestfallen. His hands dropped to his sides. “The love of my fucking life, Katara. He’s–”

“Oh,” Katara said flatly. “This is the guy you pinned to your screen the first day of class, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!”

Katara tilted her head, sympathy painting her features. “I don’t think he wants you to ask him on a date, Sokka. He doesn’t know who you are.”

“No, Katara, I’m being completely serious. We’ve been talking.”

“Talking?” Katara looked extremely doubtful. “Talking how?”

“Over Zoom.”

Now she looked alarmed. “In the chat? In front of everyone?”

“No! Privately.”

“Privately,” she echoed, realization dawning. “Uh huh. Yeah. Those private chat messages are super private. Right.”

Sokka frowned. “Why are you talking like that?”

“I’m not talking like anything,” she said quickly. “Uh, so, you’re gonna ask Zuko on a date over Zoom?”

Well. Shit. Sokka hadn’t really considered that he’d have to ask Zuko out through a message. He’d never done that before—he’d always asked in person. In his opinion, it was better that way. He could tell based on the person’s body language whether or not they actually wanted to go out with him. Sure, Sokka could see Zuko on his screen, but the guy had an impressive poker face. Sokka knew he’d get nothing out of him until the end of class.

“Yeah, I guess I’m gonna have to.” He looked at Katara imploringly. “How should I ask? What should I send him?”

“Don’t ask me,” Katara said.

“Oh yeah,” Sokka said with a roll of his eyes. “I forgot you and Aang have been together since you were like, twelve.”

“That’s not true!”

“It might as well be,” Sokka shot back.

“We’ve only been dating for two years!”

“You’re right! I’ll ask Aang!”

“Wait—What?”

Sokka was already edging past her to go downstairs. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

“Well, yeah, he’s here, but–”

“Aang!” Sokka hollered as he ran down the stairs.

“In the kitchen!” Aang yelled back.

Sokka skid to a halt where Aang was sitting at the counter, plate of food in front of him.

When mandatory quarantine was first announced, Katara had begged Hakoda and Bato to let Aang stay with them, because who knows when I’ll ever see him again, dad? Quarantine ended months ago, but Aang had just… never left. And dad and Bato never told him to leave. So here he sat in their kitchen.

Aang paused with his fork hovering halfway to his mouth. “Yes?”

“How did you ask out Katara?”

Aang lowered the fork without taking a bite. “Um.” He squinted into the middle distance, as if trying to remember.

“Well, don’t think too hard about it,” Sokka said.

“I, uh… don’t think I did?”

“Well, you’re no help!” Sokka exclaimed, arms flailing. “How the hell am I supposed to ask out Zuko?”

“What’s all this shouting about?” Bato asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Ask out who?” Hakoda asked, following in behind Bato.

“Dads!” Sokka said, turning to the two older men. “Just who I wanted to see!”

They regarded Sokka suspiciously.

“That’s not what you said a week ago when you said my texting was too loud,” Hakoda said.

“In my defense, it was,” Sokka said, then turned to Aang to have him back him up. “You were there, tell him.”

Aang shook his head, quickly taking a too-large bite of his food and chewing very slowly.

Sokka narrowed his eyes at Aang. “Traitor.”

Aang shrugged, leaving Sokka to look back at Hakoda and Bato awkwardly. “Everyone being home all the time is weighing heavily on us all?”

“Uh huh.”

“Likely story.”

“I’m sorry, okay? But I have a very important question for you both.”

“Alright,” Hakoda says, waving a hand. “Go ahead.”

Sokka waggled a finger between the two of them. “Who asked out who?”

“He asked me out,” Bato and Hakoda said at the same time. They looked at each other in surprise.

“You asked me out first!” Hakoda said.

“I hate to break it to you Koda, but I definitely didn’t,” Bato replied.

“Yes, you did! You–”

They devolved into bickering, and Sokka tuned them out as he sighed wearily, slumping into the chair at the counter next to Aang. “Well. They’re not gonna help.”

“Sorry, Sokka. I wish I could help you out, but I thought more on it, and I never really asked Katara out on a date. We just kind of… happened.”

“We did,” Katara said from behind them, stepping closer to wrap an arm around Aang’s shoulders. She grinned as Aang leaned into her, pulling her closer and kissing her cheek quickly.

Sokka sighed again, watching as Hakoda and Bato’s bickering slowly morphed into sappy smiles and loving compliments.

“This is all extremely unhelpful,” Sokka said to the four other people in the room. They ignored him.

— — —

Sokka sat in front of his laptop on Monday morning.

He’d spent the entire weekend thinking of date ideas, each concept thought up and eventually discarded. Even with the pandemic being all but over, it had changed the way people interacted in restaurants and coffee shops. Would Zuko want to be in a public place? Or would he prefer something lower key? Would he think that Sokka was being cheap if they didn’t go out somewhere properly?

This was why Sokka asked people out in person. There was a collaboration that wasn’t present on Zoom, especially when Zuko refused to reply during the lecture. Plus, there was the added pressure that Zuko was expecting Sokka to ask him on a date, and Sokka wanted his proposal to be perfect.

In the end, Sokka decided on stargazing. He had done his research—it was supposed to be a clear night tonight. Plus, it was relevant to the class and something that Sokka actually knew about. If Zuko didn’t end up having a good time, he would at least hopefully learn something useful.

Sokka clicked on the Zoom link right at ten o’clock. Zuko was already there, looking beautiful as always. He pinned him to the screen almost immediately.

Sokka didn’t want to wait an entire hour for Zuko to respond to his message, so he decided not to send it until the end of lecture, when Zuko would reply right away. Sokka typed out his message carefully and slowly, made sure it was on the right settings to send only to Zuko, and sat back in his chair.

Even at ten in the morning on a Monday, Zuko really was beautiful. His hair was down today, long and shiny, and he looked extremely cozy in a dark red turtleneck sweater. Sokka could just see the tips of Druk’s ears peeking out from the bottom of the screen.

Zuko looked gorgeous, as always, but he was holding himself stiffly, unnaturally tense as where he’d typically be relaxing back into his office chair. The hand that was running through Druk’s fur seemed more like a repetitive motion rather than loving strokes like usual.

Sokka hoped he wasn’t in a bad mood. That might make Zuko’s acceptance of his date idea less likely. Sokka almost deleted his message to ask Zuko if everything was okay, but then Piandao was launching straight into lecture, and Sokka tried to pay attention.

Ten minutes to the end of class, Sokka read over his message once more for any typos or mistakes, took a deep breath, then finally sent it.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

it’s supposed to be a clear night tonight.
want to go stargazing with me? i can tell
you stuff about space that i bet piandao
has never even heard of.

As soon as the message sent, Sokka watched Zuko closely on the screen, waiting for a reaction.

Nothing happened for a very long time, and Sokka tried not to think of Zuko turning him down or not replying. Zuko had told Sokka to ask him out, right? That was a thing that happened. Sokka wasn’t making that up.

Zuko should reply.

Right?

Movement on screen caught Sokka’s attention. Zuko’s eyes flickered like he was reading something, then went completely still once again. And then, with no warning, Zuko’s screen went black, leaving his name floating in dead space.

Sokka blinked.

Was that… a good sign? Or a bad one?

Sokka wasn’t sure. He almost yelled out for Katara’s guidance, but then Zuko’s video was suddenly flaring back to life, and Sokka’s mouth snapped shut.

Zuko looked mostly the same, except his hair was somewhat disheveled, like he’d been running his fingers though it repeatedly, and his eyes were slightly wild as they focused back on his laptop.

A message came through not a moment later.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

So your idea of a first date is basically
giving me more homework?

Sokka felt his eyes widen. Oh shit. He didn’t think this through.

Distantly, he remembered Zuko telling Sokka that he’d been taking this class to fulfill a mandatory science credit, and that he essentially thought the course was boring. Sokka had told him that the later content would be more interesting, but he never thought to ask again, to ask if Zuko was enjoying the class now that the boring modules were out of the way.

Shit. Asking him on a date to do something that Zuko thought was boring was such a rookie mistake. And now he was probably going to say no–

A message popped up from Zuko, one that looked like an address. Sokka didn’t recognize the street name, but he was copying the text before he’d even realized he’d done so, scared that the Zoom call would end any minute now, and it would be lost forever.

Less than a second later, another message came through.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

Pick me up at 8.

The corner of Zuko’s lips twitched, just barely, and Sokka liked to think that Zuko was smiling directly at him. Sokka grinned back.

In the background, Piandao was closing off the lecture. Sokka was too caught up in the way that Zuko’s grin was slowly—reluctantly—growing, as if he was watching Sokka’s unashamedly bright smile and couldn’t help himself from smiling back.

Sokka was going to see Zuko tonight. Like, in person. He was going to be able to see him and touch him and listen to his voice and have nothing except air dividing them for the entire night.

So sue him if he was happy. Sokka wasn’t going to stop smiling for the world.

“Sokka, you seem very happy that class is ending,” Piandao said with a bemused grin. “Has my lecture been that terrible?”

Sokka unmuted himself and watched Zuko raise a hand to his mouth, as if he was worried about what Sokka might say.

“Not at all, professor,” Sokka said. “I just got some amazing news.”

“Oh?” Piandao said, eyebrows raising. “Would you like to share with the class?”

Sokka smirked at Zuko, at his frozen-in-headlights stare, and decided to take pity on him. “No thanks. I think I’d like to keep it private. At least for now.”

“Fair enough,” Piandao replied. “Well, that’s all for today, everyone. See you on Wednesday!”

Sokka winked at Zuko right before the Zoom call ended, and he hoped that Zuko saw it. Based on the way Zuko’s smile grew infinitesimally larger, Sokka was pretty sure he did.

Sokka stared at his screen, exiting out of the open Zoom tab. Exhaling heavily, he slowly closed his laptop. He wouldn’t be needing it for tonight, and he couldn’t be happier.

— — —

On a Monday night in the middle of October, Sokka picked Zuko up outside a nondescript tea shop. He drove them to the park where they walked the pathways, fingers brushing, laughter and smiles easy between them.

They laid beneath the stars, stretching out along the grass, shoulders pressed together. Sokka pointed out the Milky Way, spouting off facts at a rapid pace. By the time he realized Zuko was staring at him, Sokka was sure he’d been rambling for too long.

“Sorry,” Sokka apologized quickly. “I’ll shut up now.”

“Don’t,” Zuko replied with a soft smile. “I like listening to you talk.”

“Well, you already know how much I like listening to you talk.”

Zuko looked away at that, but Sokka could just make out the way his cheeks had reddened in the low light. Sokka made a vow to do everything in his power to make Zuko blush again before the end of the night.

It wasn’t a hard task to accomplish. Sokka made Zuko blush when he asked for the hug he was promised. And again when Sokka leaned in and pressed a kiss to Zuko’s lips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the first day of class,” Sokka said.

“That early, huh?” Zuko murmured. Sokka could feel the puff of breath against his lips, their mouths barely an inch apart.

“That early,” Sokka confirmed.

“Well,” Zuko whispered, listing ever so slightly forward. “Thank god for dual swords.”

Sokka smiled. “And bi pride flags.”

“That too,” Zuko agreed, then leaned in to connect their lips once more.

Sokka kissed him back sweetly, already looking forward to every single kiss that would come after.

So maybe Sokka did like online classes.

But only a little bit.

He liked Zuko much, much more.

— — —

(Sokka did eventually frame a picture of Zuko smiling. He hung it on the wall next to his poem and bi pride flag, right where it belonged.)

Chapter Text

Piandao, unlike most of his colleagues, didn’t mind online classes.

Of course, it had been a learning curve, but Piandao got the hang of Zoom eventually. As much as Jeong Jeong liked to tease him about being old, Piandao was hip enough to figure out how to deliver online lectures.

(It’s not like Jeong Jeong was one to talk anyway—his hair had gone grey long before he’d even hit thirty.)

Piandao liked the online classes. They were easy to lesson plan for, and talking to a screen of black and white names really wasn’t all that different from talking to a room full of disinterested students.

It helped that the university administration had told all professors to limit their teaching time online—which Piandao was still confused as to why they had done that—but he wasn’t complaining, because he had less work to do.

But what Piandao really liked most about online teaching was that he and Jeong Jeong were able to spend so much more time together.

Before the pandemic was announced, Jeong Jeong had planned to take a year-long sabbatical, most of which would be dedicated to his anthropology research on the other side of the world. Piandao had supported his husband, because of course he did, he understood the world of academia just as much as Jeong Jeong. But Piandao couldn’t lie and say that when the research trip was cancelled, he hadn’t been pleased. Not only because travelling seemed like a bad idea at the time, but also because now Jeong Jeong was staying home. He was no longer going to be staying in a remote location with no service or wifi, only allowing a phone or skype call once in a blue moon. Now, when Piandao wanted to talk to his husband, all he had to do was walk into the room over and do so.

See, the sabbatical wouldn’t have been that bad if classes were in person and the university was open. Piandao would have found things to do with his time. But sometimes he thought about how terrible it would have been to be locked inside for months on end without Jeong Jeong and had to sit down for a moment.

It would have been awful. His heart truly went out to all the long-distance couples who were separated during this time.

So, Piandao didn’t really mind teaching online classes. The moment he ended his Zoom lectures, he was able to walk into the office right next to his, rub a hand over Jeong Jeong’s tense shoulders, and press a kiss to his cheek.

Well, he’d been able to do that at the university too, but Jeong Jeong’s office was in a different building, all the way across campus, and it was over a ten minute walk, so—Piandao just liked having Jeong Jeong close. And he knew that while Jeong Jeong was disappointed about his research project being postponed indefinitely, he was happy to be with Piandao, too. Piandao could see it in the way his shoulders lost their tension as soon as Piandao’s hand made contact, in the way that he leaned into the kiss on his cheek, then turned his face up in a silent request for another.

Piandao was always happy to comply.

“What are you working on?” Piandao murmured as he pulled away.

“Bureaucratic bullshit,” Jeong Jeong replied succinctly. “Kissing you is way more fun.”

“Well, I would hope so,” Piandao chuckled, straightening up.

Jeong Jeong watched him pull away, wincing in sympathy when Piandao’s back cracked. “Is your back still bothering you?”

“Only a little bit,” Piandao replied. “Don’t worry about me.”

“It’s all that sitting down you’re doing,” Jeong Jeong said.

Piandao raised his eyebrows, looking down at his husband. “And what are you doing right now?”

“I’m not the one who has a bad back, darling,” Jeong Jeong said, picking up his reading glasses once more and sliding them onto the bridge of his nose. He reached out to pat whatever was closest to him, which ended up being Piandao’s hip. “I’m young and spry.”

“You’re only two years younger than me,” Piandao told him, the words worn and familiar.

“Like I said, young and spry.”

Piandao rolled his eyes. “Would you like some lunch?”

“I would love some lunch,” Jeong Jeong said.  

Piandao pressed another kiss to the top of Jeong Jeong’s head, even though Jeong Jeong was already focused back on the screen, fingers rapidly moving across the keyboard. “Coming right up.”

— — —

So, Piandao didn’t mind the online classes. But sometimes he’d look at the sea of random names on the screen and wonder if his students were even there, if they were listening, and it made him appreciate the students who put their camera on just a little bit more. Piandao wasn’t the type of professor to put students on the spot—he’d had plenty of teachers like that growing up and despised them immensely, so he refused to do it on principle. It didn’t stop him from wondering how he could tell if his students were engaged in his lecture.

He brought it up to Jeong Jeong one evening as they ate dinner.

“Oh,” Jeong Jeong said. “That’s an easy fix.”

“An easy fix?” Piandao echoed. “How would you know?”

Jeong Jeong glared at him. “I do go on Zoom every so often, you know.”

“You’re on vacation,” Piandao said.

“Barely,” Jeong Jeong scoffed. “Should have just postponed the sabbatical when the research project was cancelled, and taught classes like you. Now I’m roped into doing things when I could have just been lounging around all day.”

“Are you insinuating that I lounge around all day?” Piandao asked.

Jeong Jeong paused. “Do you not?”

Piandao, quite graciously, chose not to respond to that. “Back on topic. What’s this easy fix you were talking about?”

“Right,” Jeong Jeong said. “You can set up your Zoom meetings so that you can read what people are saying in chat.”

“I already do that, JJ.”

“No, I mean, the host of the meeting can read what people are sending to each other. Privately.”

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Piandao said. He frowned. “Isn’t that a little… invasive?”

Jeong Jeong leaned back in his chair. “You said you wanted to know if your students were paying attention to your lecture. This is a way to do that.”

Piandao narrowed his eyes at his husband. “How did you even know you could do that?”

Jeong Jeong shrugged, a smirk playing around the corner of his lips. “I have my ways.”

“How many Zoom meetings have you offered to host just so you could spy on what other professors were saying?”

Jeong Jeong made the face he always made when he was trying to look innocent. It didn’t fool Piandao—it hadn’t for years, now. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling.”

“Don’t try to distract me by calling me darling,” Piandao said.

“Darling… I would never.”

Piandao shook his head. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

Jeong Jeong lifted one shoulder, full on smirking by now. “I can think of a couple things.”

Piandao had meant to ask Jeong Jeong more about how he could go about setting up his Zoom meetings so he could see private messages, but it seemed that Jeong Jeong was willing to skip straight to dessert, and Piandao was all too willing to comply.

They didn’t get to the dishes until the following morning.

— — —

When classes started up again in September, still online even though the pandemic was all but over, Piandao was well versed in setting up his Zoom lectures so he could see what his students were saying. He learned over the course of several online semesters that students never really used the private messaging feature, and if they did, it was usually one student asking another if they could borrow notes from a lecture they missed.

It was all dreadfully boring.

Piandao expected that behaviour to carry through for the classes he was teaching this semester, and for a while, he was right.

And then he was very, very wrong.

— — —

Piandao liked Sokka. He was one of those students that had his camera on every meeting, would nod along to Piandao’s lecture, and even unmute himself and jump in from time to time, which almost no student ever did on Zoom. Piandao liked how energetic he was. He also liked the bi pride flag that was always in his background.

Which was why, when Sokka was the first one to privately message somebody, Piandao was surprised. It wasn’t anything about the lecture, either, which was even more surprising, considering that Piandao had considered Sokka to be one of the most engaged students in his class.

The message was simple, and it caught Piandao’s attention only because it mentioned wielding dual blades. For a moment, Piandao was confused, thinking that Sokka had sent the message to the whole chat, that he somehow knew that Piandao used to teach sword fighting.

But then he noticed the Privately in brackets, and the clear From Sokka to Zuko that preceded the message.

Piandao found Zuko on screen—another student who had his camera on every lecture, which Piandao appreciated, although he never said anything—and noticed why Sokka had sent the message to begin with. On the wall behind Zuko, two beautiful dao blades were displayed. He supposed he couldn’t fault Sokka for taking the time to appreciate some truly artful sword forgery, because wow. Those were some nice swords.

Piandao continued on with his lecture, but he couldn’t help but notice that Sokka’s occasional nods and thoughtful expressions were nowhere to be seen. The boy looked almost… disappointed. At first, Piandao thought that it was because of his lecture, but then he realized the real reason—Zuko still hadn’t responded.

While Piandao was pleased that Zuko was perhaps trying to pay attention to the class content instead of messaging Sokka back, he did start to feel bad for Sokka. He was so utterly deflated that Piandao started to wonder why Zuko hadn’t messaged Sokka back.

Piandao quickly realized it was because Zuko was confused. He had probably spent most of the lecture stymied by Sokka’s message, only to reply with a question mark and an assertion that he was gay. Piandao watched in amusement as Sokka’s face completely lit up, right before he turned off his camera.

Piandao would have loved to let the lecture linger on, just to see what Sokka would have done after he turned his camera back on, but time was up, so he quickly said goodbye to his students and ended the Zoom meeting.

While the private messages between Sokka and Zuko were entertaining in the moment, he didn’t think much of them until they kept on happening. Sokka would message Zuko throughout Piandao’s lecture—and it was sometimes about what Piandao was talking about, which always made him smile—but Sokka would only get a response at the end of class.

If Zuko had never replied, or said anything else in response, Piandao would think that Zuko was annoyed by Sokka’s constant messages. But Zuko always replied, and he always kept the conversation going. Sokka never hesitated to pick up their conversation right where Zuko left it when the next lecture started.

It was sweet.

Piandao thought he’d be more bothered having Sokka and Zuko message right under his nose, knowing that they weren’t paying attention, but it didn’t. He knew Sokka was still listening despite all the back-to-back messages he sent, because he’d still unmute himself and ask a question every so often, and his grades were superb. He assumed Zuko was trying to pay attention, since he messaged Sokka at the end of lecture, and Piandao appreciated that. So he never called them out. It wasn’t doing any harm.

Plus, it was really sweet. Sokka’s subtle attempts at flirting and Zuko’s subtle attempts at flirting back were adorable. And Piandao was sort of getting invested, by now.

Enough so that he started talking about them to Jeong Jeong.

“Wait, one of them has a bi pride flag on his wall?” Jeong Jeong asked in clarification.

“Yeah, Sokka does. Then he messaged Zuko–”

“The one with the swords?”

“Right. So, Sokka messaged Zuko–”

“So, Pride Flag messaged Dao Swords–”

“Will you let me finish?” Piandao asked, exasperated.

Jeong Jeong fluttered a hand in a mock bow. “Yes, of course.”

Piandao rolled his eyes. “Sokka messaged Zuko about the swords, something like ‘I see you wield dual blades,’ and then Zuko messaged back ‘No, I’m gay.’”

Jeong Jeong started to laugh. “He thought Sokka was asking if he swung both ways!”

“Yeah, that was my thought, too,” Piandao said, cracking a smile.

“So Zuko knows Sokka is bi. Sokka knows Zuko’s gay. What are they going to do about that?”

“They’ve been talking.”

“Still?”

“Yup.”

“About what?”

“The class. Newton. Zuko’s taking the class only to fulfil a science credit, which is kind of sad–”

“Aw, poor baby,” Jeong Jeong simpered mockingly.

Piandao ignored him. “But it’s to be expected. Not every student taking my class has to be an astronomy or physics major.”

“What else does Pride Flag send?”

“Sokka,” Piandao corrected, but continued on anyway. “The past few classes he seemed to be on a joke kick. Trying to make Zuko laugh on the other side of the Zoom call, I presume.”

“And has he succeeded?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Piandao said with a frown. He truly thought that Zuko was having a coughing fit in the previous lecture, but Sokka had grinned like he’d won a trophy, so Piandao was still undecided.

Jeong Jeong eyed him for a moment. “What else?”

“Well, today Sokka asked about Zuko’s cats.”

“Sounds riveting.”

“The two of them are cute,” Piandao protested. “They kind of remind me of us.”

“I take offense to that,” Jeong Jeong said immediately. “We were never that stupid.”

Piandao raised a single eyebrow. “Weren’t we?”

“Absolutely not.”

Piandao grinned, reeling Jeong Jeong in to hold him close. “Doesn’t matter. I feel like a proud uncle or something. It’s so weird. I barely know these kids, but it feels like I do.”

Jeong Jeong shook his head, resting his palms on Piandao’s chest. “If you wanna be their gay mentor, then you be their gay mentor, baby.”

Piandao raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Why must you be the way that you are?”

“Because you wouldn’t want me any other way.”

Piandao sighed, because Jeong Jeong was right. Jeong Jeong grinned like he knew exactly what Piandao was thinking.

“Well, now that you’ve talked about them, I feel like I need to know more. Can I see them?”

“You make it sound like we’re adopting a pet.” Piandao chuckled. “JJ, you can’t come into my office during the lecture.”

Jeong Jeong raised his eyebrows. “Who said anything about that?”

— — —

By the next class, Piandao had largely forgotten about his and Jeong Jeong’s conversation from the other day. It wasn’t until he got a message at the beginning of class from someone with the name Jay—no last name—when he began to remember.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

quick, make me a co-host

Piandao almost read out the words, thinking it was a student asking a question. He paused in his talking for a moment, completely taken aback by the message before a few more came through, seemingly all at once.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

i wanna see the private messages

piandao honey you stopped talking

husband, light of my life. make me
a co-host

Piandao squinted into his camera, hoping that Jeong Jeong was seeing this on the screen of his computer in the other room and feeling bad about his actions. He continued on with the lecture as best he could while engaging in conversation with his husband.

From Piandao to Jay (Privately)

JJ, how did you even get the link to
this meeting?

Never mind, that’s not important.

I’m not going to make you a co-host.

That seems unethical.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

that’s boring

you wouldn’t want to be boring, would you?

darling… please?

🥺

Piandao sighed wearily on screen, rubbing his eyes.

Goddammit. Jeong Jeong knew him too well.

He made him a co-host.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

they haven’t even said anything to
each other yet

i’m bored

say something funny

actually… hmm

😏

you look amazingly sexy today

did you shave this morning?

fuck, you’re hot

i can’t believe you’re my husband

i want to ravish you

Suddenly, Piandao knew how Zuko felt when Sokka sent him a thousand messages right after the other. No wonder Zuko always waited until the end of lecture to respond. It was kind of overwhelming.

And unless Sokka had somehow figured out a different way to message Zuko on Zoom that Piandao couldn’t see, Sokka never sent messages like these.

Piandao was going to have a very long conversation with Jeong Jeong after this. Jeong Jeong knew it too, if the messages that kept on coming through were any indication.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

oooo furrow your eyebrows again

yeah, just like that

see, this is how swords and pride flag
should be messaging

instead, they’re saying nothing

you lied to me

how dare you

… you really are extremely sexy when
you talk about things you’re passionate about

Piandao tried his best to ignore any messages that came after that, as they only got increasingly more and more X-rated.

He thought he’d done a pretty good job of it too, but he got a bit distracted when he was talking about the homework. He must not have described the task well enough, because Zuko, who had never spoken on Zoom until now, unmuted himself.

“I have a quick question about the homework,” Zuko said.

Many things happened at once, all in the span of a few seconds:

Sokka perked up on screen like a dog who had seen a squirrel, clearly looking for whoever was talking. Piandao knew that Sokka had Zuko pinned to his screen, so Sokka clearly didn’t notice that it was Zuko who unmuted himself as he searched through the students at the top of his screen.

Jeong Jeong messaged him, too.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

is this the first time swords has spoken?

he has a distinctive voice

based on pride’s reaction i’m guessing it is

oh, this is gonna be good

Piandao was inclined to agree. He smiled at the tiny Zuko on screen and said, “Sure, go ahead.”

Zuko asked, “Yeah, did you want us to do up to question twelve for the next class or only up to question ten?”

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

PRIDE JUST REALIZED IT WAS SWORDS

this shit is better than reality tv

“Good question,” Piandao said, trying valiantly to ignore the influx of messages that were popping up from both Jeong Jeong and Sokka in the chat window. “You guys only need to do up to question ten. Of course, if you’d like to work ahead, you can, but it’s not required. Only the problems covered up to question ten will be included on the upcoming quiz.”

“Um,” Zuko’s eyes seemed distant and unfocused as they looked at his screen. “Okay, thanks.”

“Of course,” Piandao replied. “Any other questions?”

As he waited for any other students to unmute themselves with questions, he caught himself up on the messages he had missed.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

YOUR VOICE OMFG

ZUKO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YOUR VOICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I AM

ALFHLJHFDGLGSLHLDGLK

😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱
😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

zuko i want your voice poured over
me like i’m a strawberry at a chocolate
fountain

i want to wear it like an oversized
sweater on a cold autumn day

i’m literally never going to be the
same again

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

pride’s got it real bad

ohhhh my god

he’s spouting POETRY

POETRY?

A STRAWBERRY AT A CHOCOLATE
FOUNTAIN? WHO DOES HE THINK
HE IS?

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

You’re not very good at poetry.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

i am inclined to agree

“Questions?” Piandao said, a bit desperately. “No one has any questions?”

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

ouch.

give me another chance?

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

Fine.

Show me what you got.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

swords was way too quick to give him a second chance

make pride sweat a little, jeez

“Well, if no one has any questions, I suppose it’s time to wrap up the lecture,” Piandao began.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

PIANDAO DON’T YOU DARE END
THIS ZOOM BEFORE PRIDE HAS A
CHANCE TO REDEEM HIMSELF

give him TIME

“Maybe I’ll do a quick recap of what I went over today,” Piandao said eventually. He eyed the time at the edge of his screen, noting that he only had two minutes left before the end of lecture.

Halfway through the recap, Sokka’s message came through.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

there once was a boy from zoom
who attended class from his room
his face was so hot
cats, he had a lot
and his voice just made my heart go boom

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

oh

i am reluctantly impressed

Piandao was already doing his recap, so he decided to finish it even though Sokka had sent his redemption poem.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

Better.

And, um.

Thank you? I think?

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

you’re very welcome

i’ll compliment you anytime 😌

“Thank you all for showing up today, folks,” Piandao said with a sigh of relief. “See you all again on Friday.”

He ended the lecture.

“Poetry?” he heard Jeong Jeong call from the other room. A loud sound echoed through the hall, like he’d slammed his hands down onto the surface of his desk. “POETRY?”

— — —

Half an hour later, Piandao received an email.

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: October 13, 2021

Hello Piandao,

I asked a question in class today about the homework. Unfortunately, I think the audio on my end must have cut out, because I completely missed your reply.

Could you please let me know which question to finish at so I can be best prepared for the quiz next week? Thank you in advance.

Regards,

Zuko

Piandao couldn’t help the smirk that stretched across his face. He had a feeling that Zuko’s audio mishap wasn’t a mishap at all, and that he had been distracted by Sokka freaking out over his voice.

As Piandao read over the email once again, he realized that he was finding this very entertaining, so he responded.

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: October 13, 2021

Zuko,

Sorry to hear about your audio troubles. Zoom is such a fickle thing! Handy for some things, and absolutely dreadful when it comes to other things.

As for the answer to your question: you only need to do up to question ten to be prepared for the quiz. Of course, feel free to work ahead! But it’s not required.

I hope that helps! I wish you luck if you encounter any other problems with Zoom.

Take care,

Piandao

— — —

When Piandao started the lecture the Friday after and waited for students to show up, he stared at the black rectangle that said ‘Jay’ and sighed deeply.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

don’t look so glum, darling

it’s a beautiful day!

also you need to make me a co-host again

Piandao was typing out a message even as he made Jeong Jeong a co-host to the meeting.

From Piandao to Jay (Privately)

You really shouldn’t be here.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

but that last class was so good

POETRY!

you didn’t seriously expect me to miss
out on this, did you?

From Piandao to Jay (Privately)

I hoped.

Piandao began teaching not long after that. For the first half of the meeting, Jeong Jeong sent intermittent messages, mostly commenting on how bored he was. Piandao ignored most of them.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

oh, there’s the cats you mentioned

they’re pretty cute

should we get a cat?

wait

piandao

i think i’m really onto something here

we should get a cat

From Piandao to Jay (Privately)

I am TEACHING, JJ.

Please be quiet.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

you’re no fun ☹️

you know what WOULD be fun, though?

a cat

Piandao cleared his throat noisily before continuing on with his lecture, hoping that Jeong Jeong would get the message. He didn’t send anything else, so Piandao relaxed a bit, sinking into the easy rhythm of the topic for today’s class.

When another message popped up, Piandao thought it was going to be from Jeong Jeong, asking for a cat again, but the message was from Sokka.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

where’s my hug? 🥺

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

oh, that was SMOOTH

pride’s got some MOVES

what is swords gonna say

WHY does he always wait until the
end of class to respond

he’s putting pride through hell

it’s almost the end of class, piandao

what if swords doesn’t reply

Piandao started to wrap up the lecture, asking if anybody had any questions.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

swords still hasn’t replied!!!

piandao STOPPP

Piandao ignored Jeong Jeong’s messages. He wasn’t going to drag on this lecture like he had last class. He wasn’t blind—he saw the weird looks the other students had given him.

“Well, alright then, if no one has any questions, I suppose that’s all for this class,” Piandao announced.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

Ask me on a date and maybe you’ll find out.

Piandao watched Sokka hesitate as he opened his messages, then saw the complete shock that overtook his features.  

He couldn’t watch for very long.

“Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!” Piandao said, then ended the Zoom meeting.

Piandao blew out a breath.

That was a lot to take in.

It was silent for a long moment. Then, a few seconds later, Jeong Jeong said loudly from the other room, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

— — —

Over the weekend, Jeong Jeong kept coming up with ideas about how Sokka was going to ask Zuko out on a date.

“Do you think Pride will unmute himself to ask Swords out?” Jeong Jeong asked, flipping through Netflix as he lounged on the couch.

“Why do you refuse to call them their names?” Piandao asked with a laugh.

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you prefer if I called them Sokka and Zuko?” Jeong Jeong’s eyes peeked over the back of the couch.

“You mean their names?”

Jeong Jeong huffed. “Do you think Sokka will unmute himself to ask Zuko out?”

“Like in the middle of class?”

Piandao walked over with their drinks, sliding one onto the coffee table. He kicked gently at Jeong Jeong’s ankles to get him to move his feet, but Jeong Jeong only lifted his legs just high enough for Piandao to slip underneath. Piandao rolled his eyes, but did as Jeong Jeong wanted, lifting his glass of iced tea out of the way as he sat down.

Jeong Jeong rested his feet on Piandao’s lap. “Sokka could ask at the beginning of class. Or the end.”

“I think if he did that, Zuko would die of embarrassment and Sokka would never get an answer.”

Jeong Jeong hummed, eyes still on the screen. “It would be a bold move, though. Fortune favours the bold, and all that.” He paused. “So, you think he’ll ask in the chat?”

“That’s my guess.”

“That sucks.”

“Oh?” Piandao raised an eyebrow over at his husband. “How so?”

“It’s better to ask someone out in person.”

Piandao shifted so his body was facing Jeong Jeong. He looked at him pointedly.

At first, Jeong Jeong didn’t notice, too focused on choosing a new Netflix movie to watch. Once he’d found one, he did a double take when he finally realized that Piandao was waiting for a response.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why do you think it’s better to ask out someone in person? You didn’t ask me out in person.”

“I didn’t ask you out at all,” Jeong Jeong corrected.

“Ouch.”

Jeong Jeong gave him a flat look. “Honey, we hated each other when we first met.”

Piandao winced. It’s not that they hated each other.

Okay, well, they did. But they didn’t actually know each other, at the time. What they hated was each other’s reputations. Piandao knew Jeong Jeong as a professor who was rude to administration and hard on science students who needed to take humanities courses to fulfil their degree requirements. While Piandao didn’t know it at the time, he later found out that Jeong Jeong knew Piandao as one of the science professors who always got department funding from the university for new research instruments, while the anthropology department suffered in comparison.

They hated each other in name only.

Then they met at a conference—in a completely different city, even though they both taught at the same university—and actually got to know each other. They were strangers, but they spent the entire night together at the hotel bar, laughing and chatting well into the early hours of the morning.

It wasn’t until they saw each other on campus months later, purely by accident, when they realized who the other was. It caused a lot of hostility. A long period of time passed when all the professors in Piandao’s department were convinced that they were in a secret relationship, purely based on the tension between them.

One day, Piandao decided to be the bigger person and end this weird feud between them. He showed Jeong Jeong one of the cool pieces of technology the physics department received a grant for, and Jeong Jeong had been rude and standoffish the entire time. Piandao finally cornered him, demanding why he was being so difficult with him now when things had been so good between them at the conference all those months ago.

They aired their grievances, and only then did they slowly realize their perceptions of each other were misguided. Then Jeong Jeong kissed Piandao up against a multimillion-dollar microscope and that was that.

Now that Piandao thought about it, neither of them asked the other out. It just kind of… happened.

“Huh,” Piandao said.

“Are you only just realizing now that we hated each other?” Jeong Jeong asked, looking at Piandao like he thought he should get his head checked.

“We never hated each other,” Piandao maintained.

“I hated you,” Jeong Jeong said easily.

Piandao blinked.

“What?” Jeong Jeong shrugged. “I did.”

“You didn’t even know me. All you knew was the amount of money the university was giving my department.”

“That’s all I needed to know,” Jeong Jeong replied. He nudged his toe into Piandao’s thigh, voice going soft. “I changed my mind when I saw that stupid microscope.”

“Stupid? That microscope–”

Jeong Jeong shifted abruptly, pulling his feet back so he could kneel up onto the couch and shuffle closer to Piandao.

“The microscope was very important and led to some very important breakthroughs, yes I know, darling.” Jeong Jeong leaned in closer, pressing a chaste kiss to Piandao’s lips. “I’m sure it makes very pretty pictures. Not that I would know, because you never actually showed me how it worked–”

“We were a little preoccupied–”

Jeong Jeong cut him off with another kiss. “Yes, I know that too.” He grinned. “I’m not complaining.”

“I mean, it seemed like you were complaining,” Piandao said.

“Definitely not,” Jeong Jeong said, grinning wider.

Piandao grinned back, leaning in to kiss him again.

— — —

Piandao ducked his head into Jeong Jeong’s office before his astronomy class on Monday. “Are you going to grace me with your presence today in class?” he asked.

Jeong Jeong looked up from the screen, eyes peering at him over the rim of his glasses. “If I said no, would you believe me?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t say it.” Jeong Jeong turned back to his computer. “But you’d be a fool to think I’d miss Sokka asking Zuko out on a date. I’m still holding out for a big dramatic proposal.”

Piandao sighed, pushing away from the door frame. “I think you’re too invested.”

“You started it!” Jeong Jeong called out.

Piandao disagreed. Without Jeong Jeong telling him how to see private messages to begin with, none of this would have happened.

He still wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

— — —

When Piandao started the lecture on Monday morning, Zuko was one of the first students in his waiting room. Jeong Jeong was also there, and while Piandao played with the idea of not letting him in, he ended up discarding it pretty quickly. If Piandao didn’t let him into the class, he wouldn’t put it past Jeong Jeong to waltz into Piandao’s office and take matters into his own hands, Piandao’s professional lecture be damned.

Piandao let Jeong Jeong into the class, along with all the other students waiting. This time, he made Jeong Jeong a co-host before he could even ask.

The hope on Zuko’s face was so painfully obvious when he first got into the meeting. He must have determined that Sokka hadn’t showed up yet, because his expression dimmed somewhat. Once Sokka finally joined the Zoom call, right at ten o’clock, Zuko had slipped on his usual mask of casual indifference.

Piandao still saw the hope that peeked through on Zuko’s face when Sokka leaned forward, clearly typing something on his keyboard.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

he’s typing!!! what’s he gonna say

i wish he would unmute himself

think of how cinematic that would be

Piandao ignored Jeong Jeong’s messages, instead keeping an eye out for what Sokka was going to message Zuko.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited.

By the time Piandao looked up at Sokka on screen, Sokka had leaned away from the camera, propping his head up on his fist. But—

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

why didn’t he send anything???

Piandao didn’t have a good answer to that. It seemed that Sokka had chosen not to send anything after all.

Belatedly, he looked over to Zuko, who looked as if he’d been carved from stone. Between one minute and the next, his expression went from hopeful to completely, carefully blank. The tense line of his shoulders and the stiffness in his posture made Piandao’s back twinge in sympathy.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

oh god

swords probably thinks pride’s not
gonna ask

BUT HE WILL, RIGHT?

if this doesn’t have a happy ending…

piandao, how could you let this happen
to me

why hasn’t pride said anything?

It was odd that Sokka hadn’t sent a message. Usually he’d have sent five messages to Zuko, by now. Piandao wondered why today, of all days, he’d decided to withhold.

Zuko had put himself out there with the last message he’d sent on Friday. And now Sokka wasn’t sending anything? He was making Zuko miserable.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

this is hard to watch

And it was. Throughout his lecture, Piandao would catch glimpses of Zuko, who was clearly upset but trying not to be. He had probably expected Sokka to respond right when the class started, as had become customary, and when Sokka didn’t, he automatically took that as a rejection.

Sokka, on the other hand, seemed fine. However, he did seem more agitated than usual—he kept on fiddling with his piercings, or chewing on a pencil, or spinning in his chair.

Piandao could do nothing but continue teaching. Sokka still had time to send something.

Finally, finally, a message came through, ten minutes to the end of class.

From Sokka to Zuko (Privately)

it’s supposed to be a clear night tonight.
want to go stargazing with me? i can tell
you stuff about space that i bet piandao
has never even heard of.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

FUCKING FINALLY

pride used you in his chat up line oh
my GOD

stargazing????

cliché

LOOK AT SWORDS’ FACE

Piandao tried, but by the time he looked, Zuko had turned his camera off. He looked at Sokka instead—and he was clearly perplexed, eyes wide, lips pursed. He opened his mouth, like he was about to yell off camera, but then Zuko’s camera was flaring back to life. Sokka’s mouth snapped closed.

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

So your idea of a first date is basically
giving me more homework?

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

LOL

PRIDE’S FACE

TELL HIM, SWORDS! STARS ARE
BORING

From Zuko to Sokka (Privately)

433 Gaoling Rd

Pick me up at 8.

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

…

would it be wrong to show up to that
address at 8pm tonight

but god, look at the way they’re grinning

if i were you, i’d be offended

Piandao looked at how wide Sokka was smiling, Zuko not far behind, and decided to have a little fun.

“Sokka, you seem very happy that class is ending,” he said, trying to look slightly confused. “Has my lecture been that terrible?”

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

OH YOU ARE EVIL

I KNEW I MARRIED YOU FOR
A REASON

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

Piandao held back his grin, knowing full well he was doing this mostly for Jeong Jeong’s benefit.

Zuko’s eyes widened, hand coming up to cover his mouth. He looked worried about what Sokka would say. Sokka didn’t have any hesitations, unmuting himself easily with a grin.

“Not at all, professor,” Sokka said. “I just got some amazing news.”

“Oh?” Piandao raised his eyebrows. He hoped he conveyed an adequate amount of surprise. “Would you like to share with the class?”

From Jay to Piandao (Privately)

i really hope you can hear my cackling
through the walls

Sokka smirked, eyes fixed on his screen where Piandao knew he had Zuko displayed. His expression melted, smirk sliding into something softer, gentler.

“No thanks,” he said. “I think I’d like to keep it private. At least for now.”

Piandao grinned. “Fair enough. Well, that’s all for today, everyone. See you on Wednesday!”

He ended the lecture.

“He winked!” Jeong Jeong yelled from the other room. “He fucking winked!”

— — —

(And no, they didn’t show up at the address Zuko sent—which Jeong Jeong had determined was a tea shop called the Jasmine Dragon—at 8pm that night just to see what happened.

At least, not that Sokka or Zuko noticed.)

Chapter Text

THREE MONTHS LATER

— — —

Sokka slowly packed up his things from his desk, waiting for the other students to filter out before approaching the desk at the front of the classroom. Piandao was behind it, logging out of the desktop computer before the next professor came in to claim the classroom for the next hour.

“Uh, hi,” Sokka said, clutching the strap of his bag a little tighter.

“Sokka, hello,” Piandao’s eyes flicked up to land on Sokka, turning to close his laptop before sliding it into his bookbag. “Did you have a question about the lecture?”

“Um, no, not really.”

Piandao raised an eyebrow.

“I did have a question for you, though,” Sokka hastily added.

“Sure,” Piandao said. “I’m all ears.”

Sokka nodded, setting his shoulders back. “I’m a physics and astronomy major, and I know astrophysics is your specialty. Over the holidays I was reading over one of your papers on stellar dynamics and evolution, and I was completely blown away.”

Piandao looked vaguely impressed at that, but Sokka didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Anyways, I was wondering if you have any research projects going on at the moment. And, um, if you did, if you had any need for a research assistant.”

Sokka clamped his mouth shut. He’d practiced this speech a thousand times on Zuko over the break, and he’d gone off script a couple times, but overall, the question was the same. He looked up at Piandao hopefully, his heart thudding in his chest.

“Oh,” Piandao said. He looked taken aback, as if he hadn’t been expecting that particular question. “I… I do have a research project at the moment. Have you been a research assistant before?”

Sokka winced. “No, not exactly. But I’m a quick learner! And I’m sure I’d be interested in whatever you’re working on.”

“My work is currently focusing on theory of magnetohydrodynamics and its possibility of being applied to the interstellar medium.”

For a moment, it felt like Sokka’s brain had a heart attack. His jaw dropped. “The—Oh my god, that sounds so cool. That’s such an interesting field of study—astrophysical systems aren’t in thermal equilibrium, so they’d need additional kinematic treatment, wouldn’t they?”

Piandao raised his eyebrows, rearing back slightly. “Astrophysical plasma, correct.” He nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes at Sokka. “How many of my articles did you read again?”

Sokka chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Um, all of them?”

Piandao grinned. “You’re exactly the kind of student I’m looking for in a research assistant. How about you come to my office later this week and we can talk about it?”

“Yeah!” Sokka exclaimed. “That—Yeah, that would be fantastic.”

“Perfect. You were in my class last semester, right? So you know my email.”

“Yes,” Sokka nodded vigorously. “I have it.”

“Well, great, you can—”

The door to the classroom swung open, and Zuko’s head popped in. He saw that Piandao and Sokka were still in conversation, quickly said, “Oops, sorry!” and ducked back out.

“No, no, come on in!” Piandao called. “We were on our way out. The classroom is yours.”

Sokka almost thought that Piandao did a double take at Zuko as he edged back into the room, but it must have just been a trick of the light.

Sokka laughed. “Oh, no, that’s just my boyfriend.” He held out a hand for Zuko to take, and while Zuko still looked like he felt bad for interrupting, he stepped forward to lace their fingers together.

“Boyfriend,” Piandao echoed distantly.

Sokka met Zuko’s eyes, then they both slowly looked over at Piandao. “If you have a problem with that, then I don’t want–” Sokka began.

“No!” Piandao exclaimed, waving a hand through the air. “No, no, not at all. I just—I blanked for a moment. Sorry about that.” He clapped his hands together as an awkward silence descended over them. “As I was saying earlier, just drop me an email and we can schedule a time to meet later this week. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great,” Sokka replied. “Thanks so much.”

“Of course,” Piandao said. “And um, I really don’t care about your sexuality, truly. I think it’s—you caught me off guard.” He turned to Zuko. “You look extremely familiar, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Zuko said. “Um.”

Sokka looked between Zuko and Piandao thoughtfully. Finally, it clicked. “He was also in the class you taught last semester!”

Surprise crossed over Piandao’s features. “Oh! Right! That must be where I recognize you from. Now it all makes sense.”

“We actually, um, we met in that class,” Sokka said, his grin softening as he looked over at Zuko to find Zuko already looking back at him.

“Did you,” Piandao said.

“Yeah,” Sokka said.

Piandao’s expression did something funny at that. “How did you guys, um, start talking?”

Sokka felt his eyes widen, and he saw Zuko’s do the same. “Uh… we–”

The door opened once more to reveal a man with white hair, although his face still looked fairly young, most likely around the same age as Piandao. Sokka figured that he was probably the professor to the next class, wondering why the hell they hadn’t vacated the room yet.

“Sorry!” Sokka said, seeing a chance for escape and capitalizing on it. “We’ll get out of your hair.”

The man who opened the door stepped back without a word to hold the door open for Sokka and Zuko as they made their way out. Once they were in the hallway, Sokka threw an arm around Zuko’s shoulders and drew him in close.

Zuko wrapped an arm around Sokka’s waist, his other hand coming up to play with Sokka’s fingers. “How’d it go?” he asks.

“Good! I think he thought I sounded smart, so that’s always good.”

Zuko pinched Sokka’s side lightly. “You are smart.”

Sokka pulled Zuko in closer so he could press a kiss to his temple. “I lo–”

Behind them, near the room they just left, Sokka thought he heard a muffled exclamation of, “Was that swords and pride?”

The mention of swords caught Sokka’s attention—he stopped in the middle of the hall, Zuko stumbling to a stop beside him.

“Did you hear that?” Sokka asked, turning slightly.

Zuko looked over Sokka’s shoulder to where Sokka was staring. He shook his head with a shrug. “I didn’t hear anything. What did you hear?”

Sokka turned back around, eyes sliding away from the open door of the classroom they just left. “Nothing,” he said. “Must have imagined it.”

“Must have,” Zuko agreed.

Sokka pulled Zuko close, and they kept on walking.

— — —

(Sokka eventually discovered that hosts could see private messages on Zoom. Today, however, was not that day.)