Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ah, when to the heart of man
   Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
   To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
   Of a love or a season?

-"Reluctance" by Robert Frost

It had been three days since Mai called off the wedding. Scattered across Zuko’s kitchen table were all manner of documents. Price quotes from the caterer, reservation itineraries from the venue, a mock-up of the cake design. The wedding was in three weeks. Well, would have been in three weeks. Now there was no wedding. 

In his hands, Zuko held two plane tickets. New York City to Budapest and a return trip ten days later. Zuko had been particularly excited about the honeymoon. He had planned it in secret, ten days in some of the world’s oldest cities, touring monasteries, old alchemist museums, cemeteries. Mai would have loved it. But now she would never see it. Neither would Zuko. 

He knew he was wasting time. The longer he sat here the closer the cancellation deadlines. He knew he ought to be making calls, sending emails, demanding refunds. But it all hurt too much to think about. 

He hadn’t really been in love with Mai. Not in the head-over-heels, butterflies-in-his-stomach, romantic love the poets wrote about. It had been a more familial love, a love that had developed over years of friendship and culminated in a politically advantageous marriage arranged by his father. Zuko knew he would never have an opportunity for true love, not when his father insisted he married someone with high social standing, someone with an old family name, someone fertile and female with whom he could further the family line. Zuko wasn’t exactly ashamed of his sexuality, more so he was disappointed in it. Life would be easier if he loved women. Life would be easier if he had truly loved Mai. 

Her breaking off the engagement hurt. When his father had suggested the marriage Zuko had been excited. He liked Mai, they got along well and shared a closeness between them. It wouldn’t be a perfectly happy marriage, sure, but it would have brought contentment and security. They would have treated each other well, and it would have been easy to fake being in love, real love, with her. 

“This isn’t what either of us wants,” Mai had said. She looked sad when she said it, but determined. “I thought we could fake it, do what needed to be done for the good of your family. But it’s a lie, Zuko. We would both end up trapped in a loveless marriage. Don’t argue, you know it’s true. This isn’t what you want, and it’s not what I want either.” 

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m sorry. Not for breaking things off, but I’m sorry that your father is such a douchebag that he won’t even let you choose who you love. I don’t want to be a part of it, I want to see you happy for you , not for him.” 

“Are you saying the wedding is off?” 

“It never should have been planned in the first place. I’m sure you would make a wonderful husband, but I’d rather you make a wonderful husband for someone who actually loves you and wants to be with you. I’m doing this for both of us. I’m sorry. It’s over.” 

She was in love with somebody else. Zuko had always known this, Mai and Ty Lee were closer than just friends. Mai’s family would approve just as much as Zuko’s father, which is to say both of them would risk disownment if they ever admitted it. 

Mai had been right, but it still hurt. He’d have to face his father, have to admit his failure in this. He’d have to suffer his father finding him another bride, someone who Zuko would love less than he loved Mai, he was sure of it. 

Zuko held the plane tickets in his hand. His eyes flitted over the mess of papers on the table. Overwhelmed with it all, Zuko tossed the tickets down and turned his back on the mess. 

He did the only thing he could think of. He called his uncle. 

Uncle Iroh had always been supportive of Zuko’s life decisions. When Zuko had minored in English Literature rather than economics like his father had wanted him to, Uncle Iroh had bought Zuko an entire set of Penguin Classics and put a sticky note on all his favorite stories. When Zuko had been caught kissing a boy behind the bleachers of the track field and Zuko’s father had raged at him for weeks, it was Uncle Iroh who offered his spare bedroom. Uncle Iroh didn’t pass judgment, he just wanted his nephew to be happy. 

When Iroh arrived at Zuko’s apartment, he brought take out and a bottle of saké. He settled himself at Zuko’s laptop computer and began going through the wedding arrangements piece by piece, only pausing to pour Zuko another shot of saké when his nerves began to wobble. Together they went through the venue reservation, the cake order, the photography booking. Most of it was refundable, at least to a reasonable degree.

The only major disappointment came when Iroh sat back and held up the plane tickets. 

“I’m sorry nephew, it looks like the policy on the trip prohibits cancellations without at least a month’s notice. I don’t think we’ll be able to refund these.” 

“Fine, fine,” Zuko waved his hand. He was feeling a bit warm from the alcohol. “Just throw them in the trash then. I don’t care, father paid for it anyway.” 

“You want me to throw them away?” The prospect upset Iroh. “This is an exquisite vacation you had planned out. You ought to go anyway, take a chance to see the world.” 

“Uncle, I’m not going on my honeymoon alone. That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard of.” 

“Not as pathetic as wasting it would be. Why don’t you take a friend?” 

“Friend?” Zuko snorted. He didn’t have friends. He had colleagues, and acquaintances, and Mai had friends. But Zuko hadn’t had true friends since college, and even then he hadn’t spoken to them in years since his graduation. They’d been invited to the wedding, of course, but an RSVP hardly counted as reconnecting. 

“There is nothing wrong with traveling alone, either,” Iroh added. “It may be a great opportunity to meet new people.” 

“No. Definitely not. Why don’t you take them?” 

“Oh no,” Iroh laughed. “I’m too old to be romping around the country. And the tea shop would crumble without me.” 

“Well, then. Throw them in the trash.” 

“What about that boy you used to spend time with? The one you roomed with in college?” 

“Sokka?” Zuko laughed, a self-deprecating sound. “Yeah right. We haven’t talked in years.” 

“Perhaps it’s time to reconnect?” Iroh seemed to read something in Zuko’s expression that said, no, not an option, because he changed course. “He has a sister, doesn’t he? Perhaps the two of them would like to take the tickets. Or, if he has a lady friend who would like to go. It’s better to be generous than to waste an opportunity such as this.” 

Fair enough, Zuko thought. No use throwing them away if he could give them away instead. 

“I’ll think about it,” Zuko said finally. He took the tickets and tucked them away in a document sorter on his kitchen counter. 

That night, just before falling asleep, Zuko scrolled through his phone until he found Sokka’s contact. They hadn’t spoken in years. It made Zuko sad to see the emoji next to Sokka’s name in his phone. It was a smiley face with sunglasses on. Sokka had set it himself one night when they were still roommates. They had been close, probably the closest friend Zuko had ever had. His heady college days with Sokka had been some of the best times in Zuko’s life, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the familiarity they had shared. Being friends with Sokka came with a whole host of other people as well: Katara, Aang, Suki, Toph. They had been a close-knit group, and Zuko had been invited in with open arms once he started rooming with Sokka. 

Zuko sent a text. He kept it simple. No need to overshare. 

Zuko:
Sokka, long time no see. Hope you are doing well.
Would you be willing to meet me for drinks sometime the week? I would love to catch up.

Zuko was surprised that the response came almost immediately. 

Sokka:
Zuko!!! Where the fuck you been man???
Yes I would love to get drinks, does tomorrow night work for you?
How does Cornerstone around 7 sound to you? 

I’m so glad to hear from you honestly. Missed you, dude

The sentiment made Zuko’s heart flutter in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. Or rather, he had been accustomed to it, years ago, when it was an unavoidable side-effect of Sokka’s open affection. 

Zuko:
Cornerstone at 7 sounds perfect. Looking forward to it.

That night he fell asleep with all manner of memories plowing their way through his mind. The two of them on late-night study sessions in the library. Cleaning the house together and listening to music at full volume. Sokka falling asleep on the couch in their shared living room, legs somehow sprawled across both the back of the couch and the floor simultaneously. 

The two of them talking, late at night, whispering secrets to one another and drinking from the same bottle of cheap white wine. 

Zuko longing for more than a friendship, but always too cowardly to ask for it. 

Sokka kissing him behind the bleachers during one of his track meets, a moment so perfect it sat on a pedestal in Zuko’s mind, marred only by what followed. His sister, her high pitched voice, the taunt of, “I’m telling father!” 

Cornerstone was busy, even for a Friday night. Sokka pushed his way through the crowd, searching for a familiar face. It was ten past seven, Zuko would almost certainly be here by now. He had always been punctual, even to an annoying degree. It wasn’t long before Sokka saw him. Though it had been years since he’d last seen Zuko’s face, he’d recognize that posture anywhere. Back straight, shoulders square, head held high. 

“Hey stranger,” Sokka said as he stepped up to the table. Zuko whipped his gaze to meet Sokka’s, and it was like nothing had changed in the last five years. His face split into a smile, honest but subdued, nothing like the unrestrained grin Sokka wore when he saw Zuko. 

“Sokka, it’s good to see you.” 

“Stand up and hug me, you bastard,” Sokka demanded. Zuko chuckled and obeyed. It was a quick hug, brotherly, with Sokka slapping a flat palm against Zuko’s shoulder blade. 

“Spirits, it’s been far too long,” Sokka said when the hug broke. He slid into the booth across from Zuko. “How have you been, dude?” 

Zuko shrugged one shoulder. “Not too bad.” 

“Not too bad? Seems like an understatement. The way I hear it, you’re getting married in a few weeks. That’s exciting, isn’t it? Who’s the lucky lady?” 

Zuko coughed awkwardly, and Sokka knew immediately that he’d said the wrong thing. 

“Actually, um, that’s what I’m here to talk to you about.” 

“Oh shit,” Sokka said. “Wait, wait, I feel like I’m going to need a beer for this. What are you drinking?”

“Gin and tonic, but that’s okay, I already have one--”

Sokka was already marching toward the bar and hailing the bartender forward. He ordered himself a beer and Zuko a G&T. As an afterthought he also ordered a shot of vodka for each of them. He returned to the table with drinks in hand and slid Zuko his. Zuko eyed the shot wearily, one eyebrow raised to Sokka in askance. 

“For old time’s sake!” Sokka explained, holding up his own shot and urging Zuko to do the same. “A toast to old friends and reconnecting and all that jazz!” 

They took their shots. From the grimace on Zuko’s face, Sokka judged that he wasn’t anymore accustomed to shots than he had been in college. 

“Okay, okay,” Sokka said, settling back in his seat. “Spill, dude. What’s going on?” 

“Well… Umm… The wedding has been called off.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Mai -- my fiancee -- well, ex-fiancee -- She, uh, she broke it off last week. It was, well, the wedding was, um…” Zuko couldn’t get through a full sentence without cutting himself off. Sokka stared at him with concern plain on his expression. “It wasn’t meant to be, really.” 

“I see,” Sokka said. “I’m really sorry to hear that, man. Was it, I mean, did you see it coming at all, or was it completely out of the blue?” 

“A little bit of both. The marriage was never exactly what either of us wanted. My father arranged it, she was a good political match and her family agreed. But, it wasn’t really what either of us would have chosen, I suppose.” 

“I’ll admit, I was a bit surprised when I heard about the wedding. I mean, no offense or anything, I just never really saw you… You know, marrying a lady.” 

Zuko sputtered on his drink. 

“No offense, really, I don’t mean to assume anything!” Sokka backtracked. “I just always thought, you know… I didn’t think you swung that way.” 

Zuko blinked at him, hesitation plain on his face before his shoulders relaxed an infinitesimal amount and he said, “You’re not wrong. She never really swung my way, either.” 

“So it was a sham marriage.” Sokka had a way of putting things bluntly. Some would call it speaking without thinking, but Sokka liked to think his candid attitude was part of his charm. 

“Basically, yes. I did love her though, you know, in a friend way. It would have been a decent match, I think we would have made each other happy. But, she wanted the be married to someone she truly loved. Far be it from me to keep her from that.” 

“What about you? You deserve to marry someone you actually love, too.” 

“Sure,” Zuko shrugged one shoulder. “That’s not really in the cards for me though. Father would never allow it. I’ve made peace with that.” 

“That’s really rough, dude,” Sokka sounded sad. “It shouldn’t be like that.” 

Zuko cleared his throat awkwardly. He hadn’t meant for tonight to turn into a pity party. 

“I actually had something to ask you.” 

“Yeah?” Sokka raised and eyebrow, beer glass pressed to his lips. 

“I wasn’t able to cancel the honeymoon trip, we are passed the deadline for a refund. I wanted to offer you the tickets. I thought maybe you could go with Suki, or whoever you are seeing these days. And if not, maybe you and Katara would want them. It’s a ten-day trip to Europe, all expenses paid.” 

“Dude, what? No, I can’t take that from you. That’s your trip, you need to take it.” 

“I didn’t pay for it, my father did. I don’t really feel up to going, you know, after everything… But you would enjoy it. Vienna is renown for its architecture, I know you’d like that.” 

“Well, yeah, of course I’d enjoy it. But I don’t want to take that from you. Really, you should go. It could be the trip of a lifetime.” 

“It would have been,” Zuko’s voice was distant, reflective. “I like to think I planned it rather well. But in any case, I really don’t feel comfortable going, especially not alone. Please, take the tickets. Send me pictures. Have a good time.” 

“Well, I’m not really seeing anyone right now… I could ask Katara, but she’s busy with her residency and planning her own wedding, so I’m not sure she’d be able to get the time. I would suggest she and Aang take the tickets, but Aang is volunteering with the Peace Corps right now and has hardly been home at all recently.” 

“Katara and Aang are getting married?” Zuko’s voice sounded vaguely emotional. “Wow.” 

“Oh yeah dude, you hadn’t heard? The planning is pretty early stages right now, I’m sure you will get an invitation once they finalize the guest list.”

Zuko blinked several times in rapid succession. If Sokka didn’t know better, he would have sworn Zuko’s eyes had grown suddenly misty. He looked away from Sokka, glancing at his drink before bolting down the rest of it. 

“Think about it, won’t you?” Zuko asked when he had finished. “The trip, I mean. Ask Katara, at least. And let me know what she says. I’d rather give the tickets to someone who would value them than let them go to waste.” 

“Sure,” Sokka shrugged. “I’ll talk to her, definitely.” 

The rest of the night was filled with recollections and catching up. Questions like, “Did you ever end up selling that ridiculous pickup truck you were always trying to fix?” and, “Bro, are you telling me you never actually wrote that novel? Your ideas were so good, I was always hoping you’d write it so I could finally read it!” 

By the time they finally paid their tabs and stumbled to the curb to wait for their rides, Sokka was feeling warm and euphoric both from the alcohol and from seeing his best friend again. Sure, he and Zuko had drifted apart, but spending three years sharing an apartment with someone during college was a bond that couldn’t easily be broken. 

Their friendship hadn’t been easy in the beginning, but it got to be that way by the end. It had been familiar and content, warm in all the right ways. Zuko had understood Sokka and offered a type of companionship he’d never quite gotten from any of the others. Perhaps it was because of how involved they became in each other’s lives (living together had a way of revealing every little secret, even the ones you didn’t know were secrets). Perhaps it was because he and Zuko were simply meant to be friends, there was something in their cores that made them a good match. In any case, seeing him again had filled a void Sokka wasn’t even sure he had been missing. 

Sokka begged Zuko to meet him again for drinks, and they made a plan to see each other the following Tuesday. Sokka promised he would talk to Katara about the trip, and they parted ways with another hug, this one a little more sentimental than the first. 

Sokka already knew what Katara would say. She wouldn’t be able to take the trip, wouldn’t be able to take the time off work, and besides, she didn’t want to go on a honeymoon trip with her brother. But Sokka had promised, so he asked anyway. 

When they met from drinks the following Tuesday, Zuko felt as though he already knew what Sokka was going to say. Something along the lines of No, sorry, the trip isn’t going to work out, thanks for the offer though, and Zuko was going to end up throwing the tickets in the trash. Uncle Iroh would at least be glad he gave it a shot, and despite the fact he knew uncle was going to encourage him to go by himself again, Zuko knew no one would end up taking the trip. 

It was okay, though. Reconnecting with Sokka made the entire sad event worth it. Zuko hadn’t anticipated how good seeing Sokka again would make him feel. He had expected their conversations to be stilted, corrupted by the passage of time. He had expected to feel awkward and embarrassed after their first meeting. He hadn’t expected to return home elated, to call his uncle the following day and recount nearly every detail about the outing. Hadn’t expected to still be reeling from it four days later. 

Yet here he was, practically bouncing on his feet as he entered the bar on Tuesday to wait for Sokka. He chose the same booth as before and ordered a drink for each of them. A Blue Moon for Sokka, and gin and tonic for himself. Sokka arrived only minutes later and slid easily into the booth across from him. 

“Dude, did you see that guy playing the guitar outside? He was killing it. Oh damn, did you order this for me?” A pause for a sip. “Blue Moon! Thanks! You still know my favorites.” 

Zuko smiled politely and shrugged. 

“Did you get a chance to talk to Katara?” 

“I did. And she can’t take the other ticket. I’m sorry, man. With work and all the other stuff she has going on, she said it just wasn’t possible. She was excited to hear that I hung out with you though! She misses you too, she said she wants to come to the next one of these if she can. I think they’d all like to see you, you know, the whole gang.” 

“Right,” Zuko sipped his drink to give himself time to think. “That would be nice. I’d like to see them too.” 

“I’m sorry about the trip though…” 

“That’s okay. I knew it was a long shot. You can still have the tickets though if you want to go. Alone, or with anyone else. Honestly, I’m happy to give them to you.” 

“You know, I was thinking about that… My work schedule is pretty flexible, and I have always wanted to see Europe.” 

Zuko’s heart quickened. If Sokka took the tickets, that would be a weight lifted off Zuko’s shoulders, and he would love to do something nice for Sokka after neglecting him for so many years. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah man, of course. Vienna has always been a dream of mine. But listen, I wouldn’t take them just to go by myself.” 

“Right, well, as I said, take whoever you want. There are only two tickets but--”

“You and I should go.” 

“What?” Zuko nearly choked on his own breath. “Us?” 

“Yeah, just the two of us! I mean, we spent years together in that tiny apartment, so I’m sure we could handle traveling together. And it’s been literal years since we’ve spent quality time together. I just think it would be fun. You and me, traipsing across Europe, getting drunk in pubs and sightseeing and all of that.” 

“I don’t know, Sokka. That feels a little…”

“Weird? Why should it feel weird? Sure, we haven’t seen each other in a while, but it’s not like I’ve become a career criminal in the last five years. You’d be safe with me, I promise.” 

“I don’t think I’m feeling up to it.” 

“Come on, Zuko. Think about it. Getting drunk together in a foreign city with your best friend is the best cure for a broken heart. Everyone knows that. It’s like, a proven fact.” 

Zuko was silent. The idea was reeling through his mind. Imagining him and Sokka, together in some of the most beautiful cities in Europe, sitting across from one another in cafes and touring castles together. The image was exquisitely tempting, which was exactly why Zuko had to refuse. 

“I don’t know, Sokka.” 

“Come on , think about it. I mean, really think about it. Don’t decide now. Take a night, sleep on it, call me tomorrow with your answer. If it’s a no, then fine, that sucks, but I won’t take the ticket without you. You deserve it, man. You’ve had a bad few weeks, a relaxing trip is exactly what you need right now.” 

“You sound like my uncle.”

“Iroh is a smart man. You know what they say, great minds think alike.” 

“Sure,” Zuko snorted and took a drink of his gin and tonic. “I’ll think about it. I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

“Great!” Sokka beamed. “That’s all I can ask. Now tell me more about the trip, what cities are involved exactly?” 

Zuko told him. Ten days, three days in Budapest, three in Vienna, three in Prague, with an extra day for travel times. Reservations at some of the best hotels in the cities. An itinerary involving all number of heritage sites and expensive restaurants. As Zuko talked, he found himself going off on tangents about all the old libraries in Budapest, the decrepit cemeteries he’d researched because he knew Mai would like them, the rich history of alchemy and magic steeped in Prague. He was gushing, he knew, but he had planned the trip so carefully, researched everything so thoroughly. He wanted it to be the trip of a lifetime. It made him sad to think he would never see it. 

Unless he said yes. 

Unless he saw it all, with Sokka at his side. 

Zuko didn’t give any answer, but when they parted ways, Zuko thought about how disappointed he was to be leaving Sokka. He wished they could spend all night at the bar, just talking and laughing together. You could have this, you know, the traitorous part of Zuko’s mind whispered in the back of his head. You could have ten days of this, just the two of you. 

The next morning, Zuko called his uncle. He told Iroh about Sokka’s offer. He wasn’t entirely sure why he called, since he already knew what Iroh would say. He supposed he just needed to hear it from someone else, someone that wasn’t the traitorous voice in his own head. 

“Nephew, that’s wonderful! You must say yes. The two of you would have a wonderful time.” 

“I know that,” Zuko sighed. “It’s just… Do you think it’s a good idea? Do you think father would approve?” 

“Absolutely not, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a good idea. You are a grown man, Zuko. You need to make choices for yourself, not for your father. If going on this trip with your best friend is what would make you happy, then you must do it. Do it for you, not anyone else.” 

“Thank Uncle. I guess… Well, I guess I better call Sokka. We have some planning to do.” 

“That you do! Have fun. Take pictures. Enjoy yourself.” 

“I will. I promise.” 

Zuko hung up the phone and dialed Sokka. Sokka answered with a, “Well? Did you decide?” 

Zuko said he had. He said yes. Sokka whooped with joy and hung up almost immediately afterward saying he needed to talk to his boss right this minute. 

The decision weighed heavily in Zuko’s mind. His father would hate it when he found out. He would certainly not approve of Zuko’s choice to romp through Europe with another man. And yet, there was nothing implicitly romantic about the trip. Sure, it was a honeymoon, but he and Sokka weren’t married. They were just two friends, who had accidentally made out a few times, who were going on a honeymoon together. While both single. 

As anxious as the thought made Zuko, it made him feel excited, too.

Chapter Text

Trip Itinerary  

Zuko S. <[email protected]>

To: Sokka

Sokka, 

I attached copies of all relevant documents you might need for the trip. I also included a list of links you might find helpful. I will need to update the flight information with your contact info, so if you could please send me a photo of your driver’s license, I will call the airline today to get everything updated. 

Were you able to get the time off work? 

Links:

Hotel - Budapest
Hotel - Vienna

Hotel - Prague

13 MUST-HAVE EXPERIENCES IN PRAGUE, CZECH REPUBLIC

TWO DAYS IN BUDAPEST: THE PERFECT BUDAPEST ITINERARY

Ruins and rooftop terraces: Budapest's best bars

Visiting Budapest In November – The Definitive Guide

Itinerary: 

Nov 14:  Arrive in Budapest 8:15AM

Nov 15:  Budapest

Nov 16:  Budapest

Nov 17:  Train from Budapest to Vienna

Nov 18:  Vienna

Nov 19:  Vienna

Nov 20:  Train from Vienna to Prague

Nov 21:  Prague

Nov 22:  Prague

Nov 23: Fly home 7:00AM

Flights: 

Departing

JFK - BUD 

6:50 PM – 8:25 AM (8h 35m)

Nonstop 

Returning

PRG - LHR

7:00 AM – 8:20 AM (2h 20m)

Layover - London (1h 30m)

LHR - JFK 

9:50 AM – 1:55 PM (8h 5m)

Best,

Zuko

RE: Trip Itinerary

Sokka W. < [email protected] >

To: Zuko

Wow!!! You really do have everything planned out!! 

No, haven’t been able to get the time off yet but working on it. Have a project coming up due that week, boss says I can go if I can get it done by the Friday before we leave. Might have to do a bit of work while we’re out there, but we’ll see. Don’t worry though, I’ll get it all settled. 

Maybe I’ll lie and tell him I eloped and this is actually my honeymoon… Will report back on that later… 

Attached a pic of my license, let me know if you need a better one. 

Ummm also??? We definitely need to go on a pub crawl in Budapest. Ruin bars??? What’s cooler than that???? 

Also I found this, you might like it (if you don’t know about it already). Bunch of old caves that once held Count Dracula (!!!!!!) 

https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/labyrinth-of-buda-castle

I’m so excited for this dude. Really. This is going to be amazing. 

Sokka

RE: RE: Trip Itinerary

Zuko S. <[email protected]>

To: Sokka

Sokka, 

The license picture worked fine. I called and updated all your info. I have both our boarding passes printed already. I will plan to pick you up around 5pm Nov 14 for the airport. It is supposed to be a bit chilly, so pack warmly. 

Pub crawl sounds great. And I didn’t know about the Panoptikum but I will definitely add it to the list of sights, sounds like fun. 

You’re going to tell your boss that you got married just to go on this trip? Seems risky. 

If you need to work while we are there that is fine, don’t worry about it. 

Best, 

Zuko 

RE:RE:RE: Trip Itinerary

Sokka W. < [email protected] >

To: Zuko

Eh It’s fine, I will just tell him it was a mistake and we got the marriage annulled after a few weeks. He’d believe me, I’m typically pretty impulsive ;) 

Pickup at 5pm sounds perfect. Thanks!! 

I’ve been looking into weird sights all day. Did you know there’s an astrological clock in Prague? Definitely want to see that. 

Also! I just realized!! We’re going to be in Prague for your birthday! That’s so exciting dude, I can’t think of a better place to be! We’ll make that a special day for sure :) 

Okay I should probably get back to work. Lot’s to do before we go. 

Sokka

Zuko avoided talking to his father over the next few days. There was a big meeting with a foreign advisor coming up, so Ozai was pretty tied up at work, which suited Zuko’s needs perfectly. He didn’t offer any information on the upcoming trip, and his father didn’t ask. Zuko already had the time off work, and while his father probably assumed he would unschedule the time now that the wedding was off, Zuko kept it lowkey that he would still be using the time for the trip. 

Uncle Iroh was a different story. He stopped by Zuko’s apartment most nights and chatted with him about the upcoming trip. He did all he could to settle Zuko’s nerves, but inevitably Zuko always asked, “What happens when my father finds out?” Iroh wasn’t sure how many different ways he could say, “It doesn’t matter because you are an adult and this is your vacation and not your father’s.” Zuko was an anxious person though, and it took a lot of reassurance to quell his thoughts. 

Zuko saw Sokka several times over the next few weeks as well. Sokka was busy trying to get his project finished in time for the trip, but he seemed to find ways to make time for Zuko. They got lunch together one weekday and discussed potential sightseeing destinations. Sokka brought takeout to Zuko’s apartment one evening and they coordinated packing accessories. 

(“We don’t want to double pack things. Look, are you bringing a first aid kit? I am, so you don’t need to pack one. Oh, but you should bring a USB charger adapter if you have one. And your wifi hotspot, I bet it’s better than mine.”)

Soon, the week of the trip was approaching and Zuko was in a constant state of near panic attack. He called Sokka past 10 pm one night, half delirious with anxiety. 

“Hey,” Sokka answered, sounding tired but not like he’d been woken up. “What’s up?”

“You have a passport, right? A current one? I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask before now, I just assumed, but I realize that was a stupid thing to assume--” 

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Yeah, I have one. It’s updated, I’m good to travel. I even made a backup copy in case anything happens to the original. Are you okay? You sound stressed out.” 

“Good. Good, good, good. What? No, I’m fine. I’m just going over last-minute things.” 

“Right,” Sokka said slowly. “Well, it sounds like you’re getting yourself worked up. Here, do you want me to go over my checklist with you?” 

“Your what?” 

“My travel checklist. Katara gave me a copy of one ages ago, I laminated it at work one day when I was bored so I can use it over and over again. Okay, here it is. Are you ready?” 

“What-- Yes, sure, I’m ready.” 

“Okay. Phone charger?” Check. “Medication?” Check. “Eye drops?” Nope. “Okay, go grab eyedrops. While you’re at the medicine cabinet, also make sure you have…” 

The checklist went on for nearly an hour. With every last minute item Zuko tossed into his luggage, he felt the load on his shoulders lighten. Zuko was an inherently organized person, but sometimes stress made him less efficient than he would like. Sokka was not an inherently organized person, but he had plenty of mnemonics and devices to help him be more so. This was something that Zuko had forgotten about Sokka. He was good to have on your side during stressful times, his easy-going, level-headed personality helped Zuko relax, while his problem-solving techniques helped him overcome any obstacle. Be it studying for tests, working on projects, or, evidently, packing for international travel, Sokka had the resources to make it as painless a process as possible. 

Zuko had known this once, back when Sokka was the only person he ever went to in times of unease. Perhaps he ought to start going to Sokka more often. Perhaps that would be good for Zuko. 

The day of the trip was upon them faster than either realized it would be. Sokka had hardly slept in the last few days, clocking in countless hours of unpaid overtime in order to get his project ready enough for him to leave town. Though no amount of sleep deprivation would stop him from buzzing with excitement while he waited for Zuko to pick him up for the airport. He kept going over checklists in his mind, making sure everything was ready for him to leave. 

Before he knew it, Zuko’s texted him that their cab was waiting at the curb and Sokka was flying down the stairs of his apartment complex to meet him. Zuko helps him pack his luggage into the trunk, and they settled across from one another in the backseat, a grin plastered on Sokka’s face. 

“Ready?” Zuko asked. 

“More than you know. Come on, husband, sweep me off to Europe.” 

“Don’t call me husband.” There was laughter in Zuko’s voice as he said it. 

“Oh, my mistake, maybe I should have discussed this with you first. Do you prefer hubby?” 

“No!” 

“Baby?”

“No.”

“My dearest, darling bridegroom?” 

“Nope.”

“Beloved? Lover? Sweetums?”

“Okay, I changed my mind. Husband is fine. Sweetums is not fine.” 

“Whatever you say, darling.” 

Zuko’s lip quirked in a smile. Sokka wondered if he actually liked that one. 

They checked into the airport without incident and soon found themselves waiting in the terminal, counting down the minutes before they could board their flight. Sokka was overjoyed, chatting amiably and telling stories of every time he’d ever flown before. Zuko was tight-lipped and sullen. Sokka had a few guesses as to why. 

“You feeling okay?” Sokka asked as they both sat at the terminal, shuffling around in the uncomfortable airport chairs. 

“Fine.” 

“Ah, right, because a mumbled ‘fine’ is a completely reassuring thing to hear from your travel partner.” 

Zuko sighed but said nothing. 

“Listen, Zuko… I know this trip is going to be a bit upsetting for you, considering it was supposed to be someone else sitting here, not me. But try to let yourself have a bit of fun, okay? We’re going to have a good time,” Sokka threw his arm around Zuko’s shoulders and squeezed. “I promise.” 

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s all just a bit… much.” 

“I understand.” Sokka squeezed again. Zuko leaned into the touch, and to Sokka’s utmost surprise, he tipped his head against Sokka’s collarbone and let it rest there. 

“I’m glad we’re going,” Zuko said after a moment. “I mean, the two of us. I think I needed some time with a friend.” 

“I needed this too, to be honest. Work has been driving me mad, and Katara and Aang hardly talk to me anymore now that they’re planning their wedding. Suki’s off with her acrobatics troop. Toph is still competing in muay thai competitions all over the world. I’ve missed this, just us two, hanging out.” 

Sokka removed his arm from around Zuko’s shoulders and pulled out his phone. He unwound his earbuds and offered one to Zuko. 

“I downloaded some podcasts for us to listen to. I even got some of those boring history ones you like. Have you heard this one yet?” 

They both curled up in their chairs, sharing Sokka’s headphones, and waited for their plane to board. Sokka knew this trip wouldn’t be all sunshine and happiness for Zuko, he was going through a tough time and would need Sokka’s support. It was a good thing Sokka had been through this rodeo before. Giving Zuko support was, possibly, one of the things Sokka was best at. 

They listened to their podcast and Zuko shared tidbits of information when he felt it necessary. Sokka listened, watched the boarding screen for they’re tickets to be called, and all the while he kept his shoulder pressed to Zuko’s, offering comfort the best way he knew how. 

Eventually, their flight was called. They boarded the plane, settled into their seats, and Sokka nudged Zuko’s shoulder.

“Well, loverboy, this is it. Say bye-bye to NYC.” 

Zuko gave a half smile, eyes fixed on the airport tarmac outside of their tiny porthole window. He didn’t take his eyes off the runway, but he did lean into Sokka just a bit, their knees and shoulders touching. Sokka didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it this way. 

Chapter Text

Zuko didn’t sleep on the plane. His stomach was a bundle of nerves, and besides, he’d never really liked flying. Sokka had no problem sleeping on the plane. The seatbelt light had barely gone off before he was snoring on Zuko’s shoulder. Zuko angled his body so that he might be a more comfortable pillow for Sokka. He tried to read, but couldn’t focus. Eventually, he gave up and drown his thoughts in an overpriced mini-bottle of airline wine, and turned on a gratuitous action movie on the in-flight tv. 

Wrapped up in anxieties he couldn’t quell, Zuko tried to level his breath and remind himself of what Uncle Iroh had said. There was nothing wrong with this trip. He was an adult, going on a tour of Europe with his best friend. He would return home by the end of the month and apologize to his father for not mentioning the trip. His father would find him a new bride, and eventually Zuko would get married and go on a real honeymoon. One not with Sokka. 

For some reason, the thought made Zuko sad. He knew he would never have a honeymoon with Sokka, that this was the closest they would ever get, but he could stop himself from thinking wishfully. 

With every mile the flight put between himself and his father, Zuko felt his anxiety diminishing. When it got too bad, he would just glance at Sokka snoring softly to his right, and he would feel a little better about the entire thing. He was doing this for Sokka, after all. Sokka had always wanted to see Europe, and if this was the only way he would ever get an opportunity for it, Zuko could withstand some mild disappointment from his father. He’d been doing it his entire life. 

Sokka snapped awake the moment they landed. He looked at Zuko with a sleepy, excited smile. 

“Are we here?” He asked. Zuko nodded. Sokka positively beamed. 

“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.” 

“Sokka, shhh…” Zuko pressed a finger to his own mouth, nodding toward the children across the aisle from them. 

“Oh. Whoops,” Sokka dropped his voice to a whisper. “Holy fucking shit, Zuko. We’re here!” 

Zuko laughed. They waited for their turn to exit the plane and soon enough they were trekking their way to the baggage check. Sokka was bouncing on his heels, peering at everything around them as though the Budapest airport was the most exciting thing he’d ever seen. Zuko’s feet dragged and he wondered where he could get a very strong coffee. 

The hotel was a short cab ride from the airport. Zuko lugged his bags from the trunk while Sokka babbled on about the hotel being one of the prettiest buildings he’d ever seen in his life. Zuko tried to listen, while also trying to wrestle his bag into an upright position. His limbs felt heavy, he was too exhausted to deal with his bag not wanting to roll correctly on the uneven sidewalk. 

“Oh hey, let me,” Sokka said, stepping up beside Zuko and taking his bag from him. He was already carrying his own duffle bag over his shoulder and had his carry-on tucked under his arm. Even still, he easily lifted Zuko’s luggage and carried it with his left arm. Zuko was left with just his small carry-on backpack. The distribution felt uneven, but Sokka didn’t seem to mind. He was already talking again. “Look at the stonework here-- Oh my gods, is that the river? What’s it called? Oh, the Danube, I remember.” 

They entered the hotel lobby and Zuko stepped to the desk and cleared his throat. 

“Reservation under Sozin?” Zuko asked. 

“Ah,” the woman at the desk smiled. She was blonde, with streaks of gray lining her messy bun. “The American couple! What is it you call it? Ah, honeymooners.” She spoke in accented English, and wore a warm smile on her face, looking between the two of them. 

“Actually, about that…” Zuko said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is there any way we can change the room reservation?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but the Executive King is the best room we have open right now.” 

“No, no, that’s okay. I was actually wondering if we could downgrade. Do you have anything with two beds?” 

The woman frowned, looking between the two of them. 

“I will have to check... Please, hold on a moment. There will be a surcharge for changing rooms, I’m sorry, it’s non-negotiable.” 

“That’s fine,” Zuko sighed. 

“There’s a single room available, or a single with two queens… I will have to verify with my manager about the downgrade, it looks as though you requested two of our specialty packages, I’m not sure if those can be transferred.” 

Zuko sighed again and nodded. He didn’t care. Whatever he needed to pay, whatever they needed to do. It didn’t matter anyway, he wouldn’t be needing the specialty packages. 

Suddenly Sokka was beside him. Zuko straightened when he felt Sokka’s hand at the small of his back. 

“That’s alright,” Sokka said, speaking to the woman at the desk. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll just take the original room.” 

“Are you sure, sir?” 

“Yes. I’m sure it’s perfect.” 

Zuko opened his mouth to protest, but Sokka silenced him with a glance. He still had his hand on Zuko’s back, and he ran his thumb back and forth once, right along Zuko’s spine. 

The woman handed Sokka the keys and Sokka flashed her an award-winning smile. He hoisted his bag up further on his shoulder and used the hand on Zuko’s back to direct him toward the elevator across the lobby. 

“Why’d you do that?” Zuko huffed as they entered the elevator. 

“Because you’re tired, and it was going to be a hassle to change the room. It’s fine, Zuko. Whatever was picked out before will be fine for us. If there’s only one bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

“Of course there’s only one bed,” Zuko mumbled. “It’s a honeymoon suite.” 

“We’ll make it work.” Sokka offered Zuko a small, encouraging smile. Zuko sighed and leaned his head against the back of the elevator. 

They found their way to the room and Sokka unlocked the door with the keycard he’d been given. 

The room was breathtaking. Outfitted entirely in stylish white and brown, there was a small sitting area connected to the largest bed Zuko had ever seen. Large windows covered one entire wall of the room, and outside Zuko could see pointed rooftops and a large span of the Danube river. 

“Holy fuck,” Sokka said, dropping the luggage on the chair nearest the door. “Look at this place!” 

Sokka strolled through the room, into the small sitting area where there was a large basket on the table beside a small vase of roses. The basket contained two bottles of champagne, ornate crystal glasses, and small individually wrapped candies. 

“Look!” Sokka pulled out one of the bottles of champagne and showed it to Zuko. “Goodies!” 

“Right,” Zuko said. “Specialty package. Honeymoon, remember?” 

“Oh, man, this is great. Look at this view!” 

Zuko collected his bags and took them to the bed. He ignored Sokka, who had pressed himself to the windows and was gaping at the city below. 

“There’s a couch,” Zuko observed. “I can sleep there tonight.” 

“Nope, the couch is totally mine. You get the bed.” 

“Sokka, I don’t want to argue about this--” 

“Then don’t, take the bed.” 

Zuko scowled at Sokka from across the room. Sokka scowled back, but it was forced. He couldn’t hold it for more than a few seconds before breaking into a grin and laughing. Sokka crossed the room to Zuko and took his shoulders in his hands. 

“Look at you, being all grumpy in the most beautiful hotel room I’ve ever seen. I don’t understand you.” 

Zuko tried to twist out of Sokka’s grasp. 

“I’m not grumpy,” he protested. 

“Yes, you are. You’re tired and grumpy.” Sokka ran his thumbs along Zuko’s collarbones. “You just need to rest and relax a bit. Why don’t you hop in a shower and take a nap, it will make you feel better. I’ll go out and find us something to eat for lunch, yeah?” 

Zuko frowned but nodded. 

“Sure. Yeah, that sounds good,” Zuko said finally. 

“Good. I’ll be back soon.”

Sokka gave Zuko’s shoulders one final squeeze before letting go and collecting his key card from the end table near the door. 

“Sleep tight, princess.” 

Sokka left the hotel room, and Zuko flopped onto the bed with a sigh. He knew he ought to try and cheer up a bit, at least for Sokka, but it was hard when he felt so tired and anxious. Sokka was right though, a shower and some rest would help. He’d get to the shower in a bit. Right now, rest was all he needed. 

Sokka felt like he was in a dream. He strolled the cobblestone streets in an intoxicated haze, trying to take in everything he was seeing. Their hotel was in the heart of the castle district, and everything around him was built with light stone, pillars stretching high toward the blue sky. 

Bars bustled with midday patrons, people sat at outdoor tables talking and enjoying meals together. Sokka strolled along until he found a deli that seemed promising. He popped inside and bought Zuko and he each a sandwich. He also bought a bottled ice coffee that he was sure was overpriced and aimed at tourists, but Sokka didn’t care. 

He continued to walk until he found a small touristy looking shop where he bought Zuko a square of dark chocolate. Zuko had what Sokka liked to think of as a not-too-sweet-tooth . He wasn’t one for processed sugars, but he liked sweet things so long as they verged on being savory. Dark chocolate was his favorite. 

Further down the street, Sokka found a small bar, where he ducked inside and ordered a pint of beer. He wanted to give Zuko enough time to rest and recuperate. He had been irritated ever since the airport. Before the airport, if Sokka was being honest. He knew the toll the trip was having on his friend, he wouldn’t hold it against Zuko if he was a bit prickly. Sokka knew he’d come around. 

After close to an hour had passed, Sokka thanked the bartender and made his way back to the hotel. When he entered he found Zuko curled loosely on the bed, on top of the covers, shoes still on. He was fast asleep. Sokka put the sandwiches in the minifridge and poked around the room. The bathroom was spotlessly clean and shimmering. There was a standing shower as well as a gigantic bathtub. Upon further examination, Sokka realized it was jetted. This was undoubtedly the best hotel he’d ever been to. It must have cost a fortune. 

Sokka collapsed on the couch and tossed his socked feet on the table. After a moment, he lunged forward and examined the champagne bottle. It was written in a language he couldn’t identify. Sokka figured it didn’t matter. He popped the cork and poured them each a glass. 

Sokka approached the bed and set their glasses on the night table. He sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. 

“Come on princess, time to rise and shine,” Sokka said gently. He shook Zuko slightly.

Zuko mumbled something before opening his eyes and peering up at Sokka. Sokka collected the champagne glass from the night table and held it up for Zuko to see. 

“Good morning, sunshine! I brought you food and poured you a pick-me-up.” 

“Did you get caffeine?” 

“I did. It’s in the fridge.”

Zuko straightened up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “You’re a saint,” he said with a yawn. 

“I know. Now come on, eat with me on the balcony.” 

Zuko stood and stretched. He took the champagne from Sokka and followed as Sokka lead them to the balcony. Sokka placed his glass on the small table out there, before ducking back inside to retrieve their sandwiches. He offered Zuko his, along with the coffee and the chocolate. 

“What’s this?” Zuko asked, peering at the chocolate. 

“A present. For my petulant paramour.” 

“Thank you,” Zuko said, his voice small. 

Sokka flopped into the chair opposite Zuko and tore open the paper wrapping his sandwich. He took a large bite and grinned at Zuko. Zuko opened his own lunch with less gusto. 

“To us,” Sokka said, raising his champagne glass, “And to this beautiful city.” 

Zuko tapped his glass to Sokka’s and took a swig. 

“To us,” Zuko agreed. 

After eating, Sokka insisted that Zuko see the bathtub. Zuko found this a bit odd, but followed Sokka into the bathroom and admitted that it was a rather nice tub. 

“Maybe that’s what I need,” Zuko mused. “A nice long bath.” 

“Yes!” Sokka agreed enthusiastically. “Get in there! I’ll bring you more champagne.” 

Zuko let Sokka pour him another glass, and obeyed as Sokka pushed him into the bathroom and hollered through the closed door, “I better not see you again for a solid half-hour. Get soaking, princess. I’m going to explore the rest of the hotel.” 

Sokka found his way to the lobby bar, the lounge, and the concierge desk. 

“How can I help you?” The concierge asked. 

“I’m looking for somewhere nearby for dinner and drinks. My…” Sokka hesitated. How should he refer to Zuko? Friend was the most honest word, but if he said husband, there might be perks. “My husband is not fond of traveling, he’s a bit sullen. I need somewhere to take him to cheer him up.” 

“Of course. What does your husband like? Would he prefer somewhere upscale, or more casual?” 

“A mix of both maybe? Somewhere where he can get the fancy wines he like, but I can also get a good beer, you know?” 

“Say no more,” the concierge wrote down the name of a restaurant on a slip of paper and gave Sokka walking directions. 

Sokka thanked the man, and then as an afterthought asked, “Do you do room service here?” 

“Of course. Dial nine on your phone. There should be a menu in your room. We have several food options, and can also do anything from the bar.” 

“Excellent. Thank you, good sir. You’ve done me a great favor.” 

Back in the room, Sokka hollered through the bathroom door. 

“I hope you’re relaxing in there!” 

“I was until you came back,” Zuko called back.

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you to say. I talked to the concierge, he gave me recommendations for dinner. Don’t argue, I’m taking you out. You have to see the city.” 

“I will! After I’m done in here. These jets, Sokka… You’ve got to try them.” 

“All in good time, dearest.” 

“Don’t call me dearest.” 

“Okay, darling.” 

Sokka busied himself with unpacking his bags into the dresser and familiarizing himself with the room. He plugged his phone into charge by the bed, and also plugged in Zuko’s for him. Sokka poured himself another glass of champagne and found the room service menu the concierge had mentioned. He tucked it away for future use. He’d exploit it later, next time Zuko was in one of his moods. Zuko couldn’t resist a good gin and tonic, and after about two he turned into one of the most open and hilarious people Soka had ever met. If he got irritated again, all Sokka had to do was have a few drinks sent up to the room and forced into Zuko’s hand. The rest would take care of itself. 

Eventually, Zuko emerged from the bathroom wearing the fluffiest white robe Sokka had ever seen. His hair was tousled dry and falling across his face in a disorganized pile. His face was passive and relaxed looking. 

“How was it?” Sokka asked. 

“I feel like a whole new person,” Zuko said, sounding pleased. “Is there any more of that champagne?”

“Way ahead of you,” Sokka said, holding up the bottle and beckoning Zuko closer to the couch where he was lounging. 

Zuko brought his glass over and let Sokka refill it before collapsing on the couch beside Sokka. Sokka raised his arm as Zuko settled in next to him and draped it along the back of the couch, fingertips brushing Zuko’s shoulders. 

“This is the life,” Sokka sighed. 

“Mmm,” Zuko hummed in agreement, tipping his head back so it rested on Sokka’s arm. “I need a tub like that in my house. You really ought to try it.” 

“I will, don’t you worry. Tonight though I think I’ll just hop in the shower so we still have time to grab dinner.” 

“Where are we going?”

“Not sure how to pronounce it. But the concierge said they will have the wines you like. And he said they have local beers there, which I’m definitely going to try.” 

“Works for me.” 

“Glad I could please the princess. Now if your highness would excuse me, I’m going to shower and get ready. Finish that champagne, I’ve already had far too much.” 

As the sun was setting, the two of them left the hotel and made their way to the restaurant. Zuko looked sharp in a black sports coat, his undershirt a deep burgundy. Sokka wore a subtly patterned blue button-up, french tucked into dark jeans. When Sokka caught sight of them in shop windows, he had to admit they made an attractive pair. 

Dinner was as good as the concierge assured them it would be, and Sokka enjoyed the sight of Zuko getting looser and looser with each glass of wine he polished off. He talked with his hands and his voice rose slightly as they discussed tomorrow’s itinerary. 

On the walk back to the hotel, Zuko took Sokka’s hand suddenly and pulled him to the edge of the road, overlooking the river. 

“Look,” he half-whispered, voice overjoyed and slightly slurred. “Looks at the lights.”

Zuko pointed to the reflection in the river, the city lights twinkling in the choppy water. Like looking into a kaleidoscope, the colors were ever-shifting, dynamic and fluid. It was like looking at the flicker of candles, or the sunlight shining through shimmering leaves. Pops of color, or light, momentary, then dissipated, only to be taken up by another moments later. 

Sokka dropped Zuko’s hand. Zuko looked downtrodden for a moment, but his smile returned the instant Sokka looped his arm around Zuko’s waist and pulled him close. 

“It is everything you hoped for, loverboy?” Sokka said the words quietly, his head tipped so he spoke directly into Zuko’s ear. Not quite a whisper, but enough to make Zuko shiver nonetheless. 

“Yes,” Zuko whispered back. 

They watched the lights in the river for longer than they meant to. But it didn’t matter. They had nine more days of this, stretching long in front of them. There was nowhere they needed to be tonight, no rules they were meant to follow. They were merely strangers to the country around them. No one knew their names, no one knew who they were meant to be. Here, they could be anyone. 

Two figures, holding one another on the banks of a river, the moonlight bathing them in her enduring affection. 

Chapter Text

Zuko awoke to Sokka’s voice. It was a strange sensation, one that took him back to the college days when he would wake to Sokka singing in the kitchen, or pounding on his door and yelling, “Zuko, do you have a clean shirt I can wear, I fucked up and forgot to do laundry.” 

This time, Sokka was singing a song of his own devising. It went something like, “The sun is up, time for the princess to wake up, wake up, wake uppppp…” 

Zuko groaned and rolled over in the bed. His mouth felt dry, and there was a hint of a headache pulsing behind his temples. Zuko usually woke up with the sun, but evidently, six glasses of wine delayed his morning habits a bit. 

“Go away,” Zuko mumbled, flapping a hand in the general direction of Sokka’s voice. 

“Nope,” Sokka said, unfairly cheery in the morning. Zuko felt the bed dip and suddenly Sokka’s voice was closer. “We’re going to see Count Dracula today. You gotta get up, come on, I’m excited.” 

“No,” Zuko whined. “Too tired.” 

“I brought you coffee. And pastries. Come on.” 

Fingers prodded at Zuko’s shoulders. Zuko batted them away. 

“Fine,” Sokka sighed dramatically. “Fine, leave your husband waiting. How chivalrous of you. I’ll be on the balcony enjoying the sunshine if you need me.” 

The bed shifted again, and Zuko heard the balcony door slide open, then shut. Zuko distinctly remembered arguing about who slept where last night, but seeing as he awoke in the bed, Zuko guessed Sokka won the argument and took the couch. After wallowing in self-pity for several minutes, Zuko remembered what Sokka had said about coffee and pastries and finally climbed from the bed in search of them. 

Zuko found Sokka’s gifts sitting on the living room table. There was an insulated cup filled to the brim with hot, black coffee. Beside it were packets of sugar and cream, and a plate of several pastries doused in powdered sugar. Zuko sighed thankfully and seasoned his coffee (cream, no sugar). He bit into one of the pastries and went to join Sokka on the balcony. 

“Goodmorning, sunshine!” Sokka said cheerily. He had his own coffee in his hand, feet thrown up on the small table as he basked in the morning sun. It was chilly this morning, but the sun was bright and beautiful. 

“Hi,” Zuko mumbled around his pastry. He sat across from Sokka and took an actual bite. It was delicious. “What is this?” 

“No clue. I found it downstairs at the breakfast bar.” 

“It’s good,” Zuko said around a mouthful. “Did you wake me up by talking about Count Dracula?” 

“Yes!” Sokka swung his legs to the floor. “I think today we should visit those caves where they held Count Dracula one time.” 

“You do know Count Dracula is a fictional character, right?” 

“Vlad the Impaler,” Sokka said with a wave of his hand. “Whoever he was. They’re caves Zuko. Old, spooky, caves, and we should visit them. Also, they’re pretty close to that library you wanted to visit. So I think we should do both today.” 

“Sold.” 

“Of course it was the library that sold you. I should have lead with the library.” 

“Perhaps,” Zuko smirked and sipped his coffee. 

Sokka laughed, aiming a half-hearted kick in Zuko’s direction. 

“Hey!” Zuko protested, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “Spousal abuse already? And on our honeymoon, too. Disgraceful.” 

“Yeah, yeah, just get dressed.” 

They walked to their first location, strolling amiably through the quiet city. Zuko had a coffee refill in his hand as they walked. Sokka carried a small backpack with water bottles for both of them. They crossed a bridge across the Danube, and Sokka stopped every few feet to take pictures. Zuko kept his eye on the map on his phone and tugged at Sokka’s elbow every time he threatened to wander off in the wrong direction. 

The Panoptikum was a hole in the wall location. Not many tourists seemed to be interested in it, which suited Zuko perfectly. He wasn’t much for the over-hyped tourist destinations. 

The caves themselves weren’t really caves, more like a labyrinth of subterranean prison cells. The attraction was a bit campy, with mannequins dressed in period attire posed behind the rusty iron gates, but Sokka seemed to be enjoying himself. 

“The place is so weird, ” Sokka narrated as they walked. 

“It’s dark,” Zuko observed plainly. 

The light was dimming, and they came to a passage that was almost entirely pitch black. The only way to know where they were going was to hold onto a green rubber hose and use it as a guide rope as they walked through the dark. 

“I can’t see where I’m going,” Zuko complained. 

“Me neither,” Sokka laughed from somewhere ahead of Zuko. 

The walls were made of stone, and somewhere in the distance, Zuko swore he heard water dripping. Then came the faint trill of laughter, farther away than where Zuko assumed Sokka to be. 

“Was that you?” Zuko asked. 

“Was what me?” Sokka asked, his voice closer than Zuko anticipated. 

“That laughter. I thought I heard-- Fuck !” Zuko gasped as he ran into something solid and warm. He jumped back, losing track of the guide rope. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Sokka laughed. He groped for Zuko in the dark, finding his wrist. “You ran into me. That was definitely me if that’s what you were asking.” 

“This place is giving me the creeps,” Zuko muttered, fumbling with Sokka’s hand in the dark as Sokka guided him back toward the guide rope. 

“Aw, is the princess scared?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Do you want to hold my hand?” Sokka’s voice was teasing, but his hand found Zuko’s in the dark and he interlaced their fingers and tugged him along. “It gets brighter up here.” 

They entered a strange chamber with a higher ceiling than before. Behind the iron gates were fake heads impaled on stakes. Zuko twisted his face into a grimace. 

“Yuck,” Zuko said plainly. 

“You’re too sensitive, princess,” Sokka teased, tugging Zuko closer and pressing on through the labyrinth. 

Eventually, they found the cell where Vlad Tepes was held captive and tortured in the 15th century. Inside the cell was a coffin, cast in artificial blue light. 

“Do you think Vlad the Impaler was actually held here?” Zuko asked in a whisper. 

“That’s what the internet told me,” Sokka said with a shrug. “Creepy, isn’t it?” 

“I don’t like it,” Zuko whispered. 

“Are you scared? Like, actually?”

“No,” Zuko snorted. “It’s just an old stone cell.” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Sokka sounded playful, teasing even. “Whatever you say, princess.” 

“Stop calling me that.” 

“Or what?” Sokka tugged at Zuko’s hand, which was still entwined with his own. “Are you gonna lock me in there with Dracula’s ghost?” 

“Maybe,” Zuko huffed. “Have you had your fun yet?” 

“I guess so,” Sokka squeezed Zuko’s hand. “Come on, back through the spooky passage with you. Do you want to walk in front this time?” 

“No.” 

“Then follow me.” 

Sokka led them back through the passage, never dropping Zuko’s hand even though both their palms were slick with sweat. 

Eventually, they emerged back into the afternoon sunlight. Zuko took a deep breath of the fresh air and rolled his shoulders. He liked being out in the open, but he kind of missed Sokka’s hand entwined with his own. 

“Okay, now it’s my turn,” Zuko said, pulling up the directions on his phone. “Library time.” 

“After you,” Sokka said, faking a low bow and gesturing Zuko forward. 

As they walked, Sokka surprised Zuko with his knowledge about their next location. 

“I was reading up on this place. It’s like a mansion that used to be owned by some old Hungarian aristocrat. I think the city turned it into a library at some point. The pictures I saw online were beautiful. The architecture style is called Neo-Baroque. It’s not true Baroque architecture because it was 19th century, which is outside the typical Baroque period, but it still uses all the Baroque elements. A lot of this city is in that style, actually.” 

Zuko wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He was a bit taken with Sokka’s research. He hadn’t thought Sokka had even listened to the name of the location, let alone looked it up the Szabo Ervin Library on his own. 

They arrived at the building, which had a beautiful domed roof and ornate decorations on every surface. They stepped inside and Zuko’s breath left his chest. The high ceilings were ornamented with beautiful, intricate molding, and lighting the room were some of the largest chandeliers Zuko had ever seen. The entered the Philosophical Reading Room, and Zuko stopped in his tracks and pointed. 

“Look at those spiral stairs. Isn’t it wonderful?” 

“It really is,” Sokka said, and he sounded just as awestruck as Zuko felt. 

“Oh, and all these books.” 

Zuko walked along the shelves and trailed his finger along the spines. Most of them were in languages he couldn’t read, but they were beautiful to see nonetheless. The library was mostly empty, they had the place to themselves. They trailed from room to room, Zuko pressing his fingers to the plush of the chairs, ran his fingers along the carved wood.

Together they climbed the central spiral staircase, and Sokka lagged behind on purpose, waiting until Zuko was a level above him before calling his name. Zuko looked around, confused, before leaning over the railing and peering down at Sokka. Sokka held his phone up and snapped a picture. 

“What?” Zuko asked, annoyed that Sokka was holding them up. 

“I just wanted a picture of you,” Sokka laughed. “No need to get so angry.” 

“Oh,” Zuko said, leaning away from the railing and beckoning with his hand. “Come on then, you got your picture.” 

Sokka jogged up the rest of the stairs to meet Zuko, a smile on his face. He held out the phone to show Zuko the picture. Despite the speed with which Sokka had snapped it, it was framed rather nicely. The stairs ascending in a beautiful arc above him, his hair falling forward in his face as he peered down at Sokka with a pensive look on his face. 

Zuko smiled. He didn’t like photos of himself, he always found every little flaw with his own posture or attire. But he liked this one, and he liked how proud Sokka looked to have taken it. Sokka linked their arms and paraded them up the rest of the stairs. Zuko went willingly, feeling the warmth of the other body beside him, the beauty of the structure around him, and his own inner peace, here, surrounded by books, and beside someone who cherished him. 

After finally leaving the library, they stopped at a few miscellaneous sites they found along the way, taking the long way back to their hotel. Having not eaten anything but the pastries, both of their stomachs began to growl, and Sokka pointed out bars along the way. Zuko had his heart set on some fancy restaurant he’d read about, but as the night grew longer, the bars were starting to seem like a better option. 

“Come on, I’m hungry, we can go to your fancy restaurant tomorrow,” Sokka said finally, grabbing Zuko’s wrist and pulling him into the next bar he saw. 

“Hey, stop dragging me around,” Zuko protested. 

“Would you rather hold my hand proper?” 

“No,” Zuko sounded like a petulant child. Sokka entwined their fingers and stepped to the bar. 

“Hello!” Sokka greeted the man behind the bar happily. 

“Ah, an American couple,” The man spoke with a deep baritone. He had white hair that stuck out on all sides, like a Hungarian Albert Einstein. “Honeymoon?”

“Yes, actually,” Sokka said before Zuko could protest. He dropped Zuko’s hand and wove an arm around his waist instead. “Here for dinner and drinks, if you please.” 

“Drinks are on the house,” the man said jovially. He pointed to a small table toward the back. “Beer for both?” 

“Yes please,” Sokka squeezed Zuko’s side, silencing him before he could say a word. “Thank you kindly, good sir.” 

Sokka led them to their table and Zuko sat across from him. 

“Liar,” Zuko hissed across the table. 

“It got us free drinks, didn’t it?” 

“It got us free beer. ” 

“Beer is a drink, you pretentious asshole. Ah, here it comes.” 

The man set two foamy glasses on the table and handed them a menu. Sokka could make out a few English adjacent words and ordered them both Fisherman’s Soup. They sipped their beers, and Zuko admitted that it wasn’t half bad. Zuko was fond of the soup, too. It was spicy, just the way he liked it. 

“To our wonderful honeymoon,” Sokka said, raising his glass to Zuko. Zuko toasted, a bit begrudgingly. 

“I am sorry,” a woman the next table over said. Her eyes were bleary, and she had clearly had more than one drink. “You are married?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sokka said brightly. “And isn’t he a stunning husband?” 

“ Elragadó, ” the woman agreed in Hungarian. She waved at the bartender and pointed to them and said something in Hungarian. The bartender must have understood because he gave them a bright smile and brought over another round of drinks. 

“Oh!” Sokka said surprised. He turned to the woman. “Thank you, thank you so much.” 

She nodded at them and smiled, her mouth full of slightly crooked teeth. It was endearing. 

“Many happy years for you.” 

“Thank you!” 

She turned back to her group. Zuko stared at Sokka, his mouth hung open slightly. 

“You’ll catch flies, sweetness,” Sokka said with a sly smile, taking a long drink from his beer and wiping away his foamy mustache. 

Zuko snapped his mouth shut and frowned. 

“Just drink it,” Sokka whispered. “And rejoice. They’re happy for us.” 

Zuko sighed but did as Sokka suggested. He drank down the beer, and soon they were both on their second mugs. Zuko loosened up as he drank. By the time they left the bar and paid their very menial tab, Zuko was a bit pliant as Sokka wrapped an arm around his waist and dragged him to the next bar. 

They had much the same experience there. The bartender congratulated them loudly, and another American couple at the bar offered to buy their first round. 

By the third bar, Zuko was giggling. Honest to Gods, giggling. He had his arms around Sokka’s neck, practically hanging off him. Sokka had always known Zuko to be a lightweight, but foreign alcohol combined with the general lack of food during the day made for a very tipsy Zuko. 

Upon entering the third bar, Sokka did away with any decorum. He strolled straight to the bar and said, “My husband would like a glass of your finest ale. And I’ll take a stout if you have one.” 

“Husband, eh?” The woman behind the bar said with a smile. “Just married?”

“Yes, ma’am. And I aim to show him a good night.” 

“He took me to a library,” Zuko offered drunkenly, pressing a hand to Sokka’s chest. “And a spooky tomb.” 

“Well, I’m glad you found your way here. First-round is on the house.” 

Sokka thanked the woman and took their offered drinks. Zuko gulped his beer and grinned at Sokka with a foamy mustache, his eyes unfocused. 

“You’re a funny drunk, you know that?” The affection was evident in Sokka’s voice. Zuko stuck his tongue out and took another drink of his beer. 

“It’s your fault I’m drunk,” Zuko said when he composed himself. “You did this to me.” 

“I sure did,” Sokka laughed. “And I’ll continue to do it to you. Drink up, princess.” 

“You keep calling me that.” 

“It’s because you are. A princess, that is.” 

“I’m not,” Zuko pouted, then drank more of his beer. “Why can’t I be a prince?” 

“Because prince’s don’t need to be waited on hand and foot like you do.” 

“You’re the one who likes it,” Zuko’s voice was slurred and heady. “You like taking care of me.” 

Sokka’s heart grew warm with the accusation. “I do,” Sokka admitted. 

“That’s okay,” Zuko stage whispered. “I like it, too. And I also like it when you call me that.” 

“Call you what? Princess?” 

“Yes. And the--” he hiccuped. “The other names, too.” 

“Which ones? Darling?” 

“Yep.” 

“Sweetness?” 

“Mmm-hmm.” 

“Husband?” 

Zuko paused on that one. He seemed to think about it for a long moment, before shaking his head. 

“Not that one?” 

“We aren’t married. When we’re married, you can call me husband.” 

When we’re married. Zuko didn’t seem to realize the implications of what he’d said. He just continued to smile at Sokka like the drunk, lovesick fool he was. He drank his beer and asked Sokka to get him another of the same type, rambling on about how he actually liked beer now, but maybe that was just because he’d had so many of them. Sokka nodded and got him another drink as if in a trance. 

Sokka knew Zuko was just drunk. He was saying all types of things he didn’t mean, and probably wouldn’t remember in the morning, but the words sat heavy in Sokka’s heart. 

It would be easy to be married to Zuko. It wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed Sokka’s mind. Not just on this trip, but in his whole life. He’d thought it before, back when they were in college and sharing an apartment. They had such a good system in those days, Zuko writing all the grocery lists because he was on top of things like that, but Sokka doing the shopping because Zuko didn’t like the crowds. Zuko cooking them dinner because he knew his way around the spice cabinet better than Sokka, but Sokka doing all the cleaning up because Zuko hated touching wet food. What one gave, the other took, and returned tenfold. They were generous to one another, caring of one another. They worked together well, had spent three years in easy domesticity together. 

And then Zuko had left, dropped off the face of the earth, and disappeared from Sokka’s life. Yet here he was, back in Sokka’s life, and uttering dangerous words like when we’re married. 

It was too convoluted a thought to foster while he was drunk. Sokka just took their beers back to the table and went along with whatever nonsense Zuko threw his way. They laughed and drank, and when they were finished they walked back to the hotel arm in arm.

Chapter Text

The following morning was worse than the day before. Zuko woke with a pounding headache, his body felt heavy and sore. His feet hurt, and he knew it was from how much they had walked the day before. There was no Sokka to pester him into waking this morning, instead his own body was the perpetrator. 

Zuko climbed from the bed and stumbled to the bathroom. On his way back to the bed he paused to observe Sokka asleep on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes. He didn’t fit on the couch at all, his long legs sprawled over the armrest and one hand dragging on the floor. He snored quietly. 

Though he knew he ought to try to sleep more, Zuko wasn’t sure he was able to. Instead, he got dressed and found his way downstairs to the breakfast bar, where he got coffees both of them and a plate of pastries. He trudged back to the room and set Sokka’s coffee on the table in front of him. Zuko took his own out to the balcony and sipped it thoughtfully. 

He remembered most of the previous night, hopping from bar to bar, getting free drinks. Sokka calling him his husband. Spirits, he’d said it a dozen times. The word rang in Zuko’s head. It had sounded so good on Sokka’s lips, like it belonged there. 

Zuko used his morning to send a text to his uncle, giving him some updates on the trip and sent the few pictures he had taken so far. He checked his email and scrolled through a bit of social media. Eventually, the balcony door slid open and Zuko turned to see Sokka, scratching his head and yawning, coffee in hand. 

“Hi,” Zuko greeted. 

“Hi,” Sokka returned the greeting, distorted through his yawn. He sat across from Zuko and took a long drink of his coffee. “Damn, I’m hungover.” 

“Me too,” Zuko chuckled. “Aspirin is on the table.” 

“You’re a saint.” 

Sokka ducked inside to retrieve the painkillers and returned with a pastry and his phone in hand. He yawned again and scrolled through his phone. 

“Oh,” Sokka said eventually. “Katara texted. She wants to facetime us.” 

“Now?” 

“She’s on break at work. Now might be the only time.” 

Zuko glanced down at his rumpled button-up (evidently, he’d fallen asleep fully dressed last night) and shrugged. 

“Her loss. We look like shit.”

“She’s seen worse.” Sokka tapped on his phone, and Zuko heard the call ringing through the speakers. Sokka twisted in his chair so Zuko was visible in the background of his screen. 

Soon Katara’s face popped up on the screen. Zuko hadn’t seen her in years, but she’d hardly changed a bit. Her hair was a bit different perhaps, and she was wearing blue hospital scrubs, but it was the same friendly face Zuko remembered. 

“Well, hello lovebirds! How is the honeymoon going?” Katara chirped. 

“Good,” Sokka said. “Great, actually. Turns out people love giving you drinks when you say you’re just married.” 

“Is that why you guys both look like Hell?” 

“Yep, that’d be why.” 

Katara laughed. “Tell me about it.” 

Sokka began recounting their trip, and Zuko jumped in when he forgot important details like that it hadn’t just been any old library, it was one of the most well-preserved 19th-century mansions in Budapest that also happened to have a lot of books. Sokka told her about all three bars, and about how between all they drank they paid for maybe four drinks. Katara frowned. 

“Doesn’t that seem kind of like cheating?” She asked. 

“What do you mean?” Sokka said. 

“Well, you guys aren’t actually married. Seems kind of like taking advantage of the kindness of strangers, doesn’t it?” 

“Look, they offered. We aren’t wearing rings or anything. Besides, it’s good to let loose every now and then.” 

“Fair enough. Just try not to do it too much, don’t want karma to come back and bite you.” 

“Hey, no ill omens on my honeymoon, Katara.” 

“It isn’t your-- Fine. Fine. Well, I’m glad you guys are having fun. Drink water. Make sure to eat a good breakfast.” 

“Yes, mom.” Sokka rolled his eyes. “Catch ya later, sis.” 

“Have fun, lovebirds. Stay safe.” 

Zuko sipped his coffee. He hadn’t said much on the call. Katara’s words rolled around in his head. It’s what he had been saying the entire time. Sure, he had other reasons for feeling awkward when Sokka called him his husband, but at the root of it, it came down to the fact that it was a lie. 

Sokka must have read the apprehension in his face because he frowned at Zuko and said, “What? Don’t tell me you agree with her.”

“Well, she had a point. We kind of lied to all those people last night.” 

“Look, they wanted to give us a good time, and they did. It’s not really a lie, more just an untruth. We are on a honeymoon, after all.”

“But we aren’t married.” 

“Hm, you got me there.” Sokka drank his coffee and shrugged. “What do you want me to say? We can’t really track all those people down and give them a refund. They went home thinking they made somebody’s day, and they did, so their money went to a good place, right?” 

“No more lying about being married.” 

“Fine,” Sokka sighed. He stood and stretched. “I think I’m going to explore that fancy bathtub now. Try not to think about it too much.” 

“Whatever,” Zuko slumped in his chair and sipped his coffee. 

“Think of it this way,” Sokka said with a chuckle. “If we ever do get married, then we weren’t technically lying, we were just chronologically challenged.” 

Sokka left Zuko with that and disappeared back into the hotel. Zuko chewed on the thought for the rest of the morning. He wasn’t wrong, but it was far from the truth, or at least far from any truth Zuko could ever have. 

He’d go home. His father would choose him a bride. Zuko would forget all about the feelings he harbored for his best friend. Life would go on. 

They decided to take it easy that day. They took a short walk to the deli Sokka had found the first day and had brunch. Then they strolled to a nearby attraction Sokka had found, called the Timewheel. Sokka told Zuko all about it as they walked. 

“It’s a giant hourglass. It only needs to be turned once a year, on the new year. It’s so big it takes four people to turn it. It runs all year, I think it’s the biggest hourglass in the world.”

Sokka had been right about that. It was humongous. The structure was exactly as described, a giant hourglass enclosed in a circular disc. They stood shoulder to shoulder, watching as the tiny pieces of glass fell through the choke point and joined the pile in the lower bell. 

Zuko found himself lost in a hypnotic daze, watching the glass fall at a steady pace. For once Sokka didn’t narrate, just watched silently, eyes occasionally drifting from the hourglass to Zuko beside him. Zuko’s eyes didn’t leave the glass, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere. 

As the pieces fell, Zuko thought about the time in his own life. Passing just as steadily as the glass, every moment slipping through his fingers. Slipping, slipping, passing him by before he had a chance to seize on the things that made him happiest. He could count all his happiest moments on his fingers, and nearly all of them involved the man beside him. And yet, that would slip through his fingers too. Their trip was going by far too fast, soon he’d return to real life and for what? To marry someone he’d never met? To spend the rest of his time trying to make his father happy, so he could run a company he didn’t care about? 

Just as everything began to feel too overwhelming, as Zuko felt emotion well up inside him and threaten to spill out all over the concrete, he felt hands on his hips. Sokka slid his arms around Zuko’s waist, seizing him from behind and pressing his chest to Zuko’s back. Sokka’s chin came to rest of Zuko’s shoulder. Zuko raised his hands and laid them over Sokka’s arms wrapped firmly around his stomach. 

“What are you thinking about?” Sokka asked quietly. “You got all pensive on me.” 

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” 

“Come on, you can tell me. We’re married, after all.” 

“Sokka…” Zuko tried to squirm away from Sokka’s grasp but was frozen by the press of lips on his scarred cheekbone. Sokka let his lips linger there a moment before dropping his chin to Zuko’s shoulder again and giving him a gentle squeeze. 

“Whatever’s got you upset, don’t worry about it, okay? Just be here, with me. Live in the moment.” 

“Okay,” Zuko whispered, squeezing Sokka’s hands. “Okay.” 

They went back to the hotel early that day. Sokka called for room service and they stole food from one another’s plates, music playing softly on Sokka’s phone. Zuko tried to take Sokka’s advice and forget about all the troubling thoughts swirling around his head. It didn’t matter what happened when he got home, the trip would be wasted if he spent the whole time worrying what his father would say. If he didn’t enjoy himself in the here and now, then he might as well not have taken the trip at all. 

It was remarkably easy to forget about home when Sokka was sat in front of him, chatting about how glad he was to not be at work because he was sure the project was a nightmare for the rest of his team. Sokka liked being an architect, but sitting in proposal meetings really took the fun out of the work. He talked about the coworkers he liked and talked even more about the ones he didn’t. 

Zuko watched him from his spot on the couch. Even in his sweatpants and Foo Fighters t-shirt, Sokka was distractingly handsome. Those blue eyes, that easy smile. He stood and walked to the small counter, taking up the second bottle of free champagne and fiddling with the cork. He laughed when it popped, and let out a small whoop of triumph. 

“I always love popping champagne,” Sokka told Zuko. “It always feels like a celebration.”

Sokka poured them each a glass and passed one across the table for Zuko. Zuko took it and raised his glass in a toast. Sokka clinked their glasses, though neither of them had vocalized what the toast was for. For us, I suppose, Zuko thought to himself. 

It hit him then, all at once, and in the purest form a thought can manifest itself in. 

I love him. I am completely and totally in love with Sokka. 

Zuko laughed. Sokka smiled, though he didn’t know what he was laughing about. It didn’t matter, he liked seeing Zuko smile. 

How strange, Zuko thought. How perfectly ironic. He had fallen in love, in true, simple, honest love, on his own honeymoon, in one of the most romantic cities in the world. The realization hadn’t come in a grand cathedral, or while walking along a picturesque riverbank. Instead, it had come in a small, quiet, domestic moment shared between just the two of them. The kind of moment they could have again and again for the rest of their lives if only the world was different, if only his family was different, if only Zuko himself was different. 

But in this world, in this time and place, he could only have it now, in a foreign land, on a once-in-a-lifetime trip. 

The thought broke his heart. 

Chapter Text

The train ride to Vienna was beautiful. As they passed rolling hills and tiny towns, Sokka kept himself pressed to the window, pointing out all his favorite parts. Zuko sat across from him, book in his lap, pretending to read and sneaking glances at Sokka. Leaving Budapest had been bittersweet for Zuko. He was eager to see what allure Vienne had in store for them, but Budapest now held a special, secret place in Zuko’s heart. It was the city he had fallen in love in. It would always be that for Zuko, no matter what happened next. 

About an hour into the train ride, Zuko’s phone rang. He glanced at it and felt his heart drop as he saw his father’s contact glaring on the screen. Zuko’s heart hammered in his chest, but he dismissed the call. Sokka saw it too but didn’t say a word. 

Zuko wasn’t about to ruin his trip, not in this way. He would talk to his father when he got back to the States. He would face the fallout there, not here, not when Sokka was so excited sitting across from him. 

Sokka was just as excited in Vienna as he had been in Budapest. He rambled on about the architecture and the beautiful cathedrals. They checked into their hotel, and Zuko didn’t even attempt to change the room this time. They took the elevator to their room, which was just as stunning as the first had been. Sokka inspected the bathroom right off the bat and came back sad to announce that there was no jetted tub. There was, however, a sauna in the hotel, which was almost as good in Sokka’s opinion. 

Their balcony had a stellar view of Saint Stephen's Cathedral, an elegant building with a skyscraping pillar reaching toward the sun. The city was bedecked in pale stone, and the sidewalks were a patchwork of large stone slabs. 

Zuko walked out on the balcony and took a deep breath. He placed his arms on the railing and peered down at the city below. Sokka stepped out beside him. 

“I can’t decide what to do first,” Sokka leaned against the railing beside Zuko, back against the railing, eyes on Zuko. “Hit the sauna, find the hotel bar, or just run through the city like a little kid.” 

“Are you hungry?” Zuko asked, turning to prop his hip against the railing and face Sokka. “Maybe we can find somewhere to get brunch? Personally I don’t think I’m up for a while day of sightseeing just yet, but maybe we can take things easy, explore around the hotel?” 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Sokka agreed with a grin. “Food first, wandering next.”

They found a cafe down the street from the hotel where they lingered over brunch. Once Sokka had eaten all the fancy cheese and mini rolls he could stomach, they took to the streets and wandered aimlessly. 

In an apothecary shop, Sokka smelled every candle while Zuko chatted with the teller about their tea recommendations, and wound up buying a few proprietary blends to bring back to Uncle Iroh. 

In a local boutique, Sokka tried on every hat and posed for Zuko, who laughed so loud he got strange looks from the other patrons. 

They wandered through a tiny book shop for nearly an hour without buying anything. Sokka teased Zuko for being the only person he knew that could ogle at books for hours without even being able to read the language.

Sokka found a chocolate shop and bought armfuls of different types for him and Zuko to try. He figured if he had any leftover, he would bring them back as gifts for his friends. They sat on a bench on the bustling street and unwrapped chocolates, Sokka taking the first bite and saying things like, “Oh, this one has bits of fruit in it!” or, “Too dark for me, you’ll like this one,” before passing the other half to Zuko to try. 

They stopped in a few bars in the late afternoon, and Sokka bought two bottled beers to go, which he packed into the inside pocket of his canvas jacket. Zuko was feeling a bit tipsy as they returned to the streets, and confident enough to link his elbow with Sokka’s. 

“I think I’d like to write a book about somewhere like here,” Zuko said, in relation to nothing they’d been talking about. 

“Yeah? Like, set here in Vienna?” 

“Maybe. Or somewhere like this. A medieval city, rich with history. I just think it’s so much more interesting than anywhere in America. It’s so old. Think about all the things these buildings have seen. Ancient monarch, the rise of modern history. Think about the stories they could tell.” 

“It is something to think about,” Sokka said thoughtfully. “It makes me feel strange, in a good way. Thinking about how these buildings were all here long before we were even born, and they’ll still be here long after we die. It makes me feel small, you know?” 

“It kind of makes you feel like none of your problems really matter,” Zuko mused. “Like, everything you are worried about -- work, emails, paying bills -- none of that matters in the grand scheme of history. We’re just tiny specs. These buildings have seen wars, harsh winters, famine, but they’re still standing.” 

“Does it make you feel better or worse to think we’re just specs?” Sokka asked, genuinely curious about the answer. 

“I’m not sure,” Zuko thought for a long moment. “Good, I think. It makes me think that any mistake I could possibly make in my life really doesn’t matter, you know? No one will remember it anyway, no one will remember me, so I’m allowed to make any mistakes I want.” 

“I’ll remember you,” Sokka patted Zuko’s arm, still looped through his own. “But I don’t think you’re capable of making mistakes. Little ones, sure, like forgetting your key card in the hotel room--” 

“Hey! That was one time. And you had yours, so we were fine.” 

“--but I don’t think you’re capable of making big mistakes. You’re too smart for that.” 

Zuko was silent for a long moment.

“Thank you,” he said finally. He wanted to add, But you’re wrong. I’m making a mistake right now. A big one. A dumb one. 

“Though I do think you have made one big mistake in your life so far. Don’t worry though, there’s still time to fix it.” 

“And pray tell, what might that be?” Zuko asked with a snort. 

“Not writing your book. I really think you should. I remember your short stories in college. They always blew me away. I don’t think the world is ready for a novel written by you, but I think they better get ready because you’re going to knock the wind out of them.” 

“I won’t ever write it,” Zuko said sadly. “Not working for my father. I never have the time. And besides, he doesn’t think becoming a novelist is a real job. He wants me to take over the company when he dies.” 

“But that’s not what you want to do.”

“Yes and no. I don’t want to see my father’s legacy destroyed, so if me taking over is what helps keep our family name great, then that’s what I’ll do.” 

Sokka snorted. “Why? So you can keep trading stocks and buying out tiny mom and pop shops, or whatever it is your dad’s company does? That’s not you, Zuko. You should make your own name for yourself.”

Zuko didn’t respond to that. Sokka didn’t prod. They let the subject drop, and continued strolling through the city, arm in arm, eyes trailing along the dazzling stone walls around them. Walls that heard all their secrets, saw them in the bright light of day, but would always keep the moment secret, keep it sacred. 

As the sun was setting they found their way to the Viennese Ferris Wheel, a sight Zuko had read about and was half interested in visiting. The line was long, but Sokka insisted they wait anyway. As they stood in line and chatted casually, Sokka used a car key to pop the cap on one of the beers and they snuck sips while they waited. Others saw them but no one seemed to mind. They finished both beers by the time they were boarding the Ferris wheel. 

It was dark as they rose above the city. There was another couple sitting across from them in the car, whispering to one another in a language Zuko didn’t understand. He stared out over the city lights, and Sokka wrapped his arm around Zuko’s shoulders. Zuko didn’t bristle, didn’t try to shake Sokka off. He leaned into Sokka’s chest and snuggled close enough that he could smell the fancy hotel shampoo in Sokka’s hair. 

Their car paused near the top of the wheel and Zuko could see the entire city for miles and miles. He turned to Sokka with a lovesick, soppy smile pasted on his face, and suddenly they were kissing. It was Sokka who leaned in first, but Zuko reciprocated as though he had expected the kiss the entire ride. 

The other couple was kissing too, holding hands and nuzzling into one another. It only emboldened Zuko, so much so that he ran his tongue along Sokka’s bottom lip and let out a soft gasp when Sokka reciprocated. The kiss was long, and deep, and deliciously improper. It took Zuko back to nerve-filled days behind the bleachers at Sokka’s track meet. It took him back to every wonderful dream he’d had about that moment in the years that passed. But more than anything, it rooted him in this precise moment, overlooking the city and sharing the most romantic kiss he’d ever experienced. 

When they parted, there wasn’t a single moment of awkwardness between them. They both grinned at one another, foreheads pressed together in intoxicating delight. 

“Well, loverboy, do you like Vienna or Budapest better?” Sokka asked as their car began to descend. He still had his arm around Zuko’s shoulders, wrapped up in one another. 

Zuko thought about it a moment. 

“I’m not sure yet,” he said finally. “All I know is, I like them both better than New York.” 

“Can’t argue with you there,” Sokka laughed. 

He kissed Zuko again for good measure, nuzzling his nose against Zuko’s cheek. 

Back in the hotel, Zuko couldn’t keep his hands off Sokka. As soon as they stepped over the threshold, Sokka turned to say something and was interrupted by Zuko pressing him against the closed door and taking Sokka’s jaw in his hands. Sokka made a small noise of surprise but quickly reciprocated the kiss. His hands came to rest on Zuko’s hips, tugging him closer. 

Zuko scraped his teeth along Sokka’s bottom lip, following up with his tongue, tasting beer and sweets and something uniquely Sokka. One of Sokka’s hands slipped under Zuko’s shirt and came to rest on the small of his back, fingers splayed, pressing him closer. 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko gasped when he broke apart long enough to tuck his face into the side of Sokka’s neck and suck kisses into the soft skin there. “I had to-- I needed--” 

“I know,” Sokka said, using the hand that wasn’t on Zuko’s back to thread his fingers through Zuko’s hair. “Don’t stop.” 

Zuko used shaky hands to undo the first few buttons on Sokka’s shirt, running the tip of his nose along Sokka’s collarbone before pressing more kisses there. A groan escaped Sokka’s lips, a sound of encouragement that only drove Zuko to suck harder, leaving a love bite in his wake. 

Sokka pulled at Zuko’s hair, tipping his head back so he could recapture his lips. As the kiss intensified and Zuko felt Sokka’s desire pressing against his thigh, he pulled back from the kiss and said, “Bed. Now.” 

They stumbled toward the bed, hands and lips still on one another when the position allowed it. Zuko climbed backward onto the bed, Sokka following him and straddling his hips. Sokka had lost his shirt during the transition, and Zuko wondered if it had been his doing, or Sokka’s. It didn’t matter, Sokka was kissing him again, touching him, running warm hands along Zuko’s stomach, his chest, cupping the side of his neck. 

Nothing mattered. The world, his father, the culmination of all his deepest desires. None of it mattered to Zuko. All that mattered was that he was here, in this very moment, alone together with Sokka. 

Chapter Text

Zuko woke early the next morning, absolutely overjoyed with the day’s agenda. Today was the moment he had really been looking forward to. They were going to tour the Austrian National Library, one of the largest libraries in the entire world. It housed some of the oldest tomes and the entire collection boasted over 2.5 million books. Zuko had seen photos of it, and he knew they hardly held a torch to seeing it with his own eyes. 

Waking next to Sokka was an added benefit to the day. He slept on his stomach, snoring lightly into the plush pillows. Zuko found his way to the breakfast bar and brought two coffees back up to the room. He held it in his hand as an offered, sitting on the edge of the bed and nudging at Sokka’s shoulder. 

“Sokka,” he said softly. “It’s library day. Come on, you gotta get up, I want to get there early before the crowds.” 

Sokka grumbled, rolled over, and smiled up at Zuko with sleep hazed eyes. 

“Goodmorning, sunshine,” Sokka’s voice was thick with sleep. His eyes caught on the coffee in Zuko’s hands. “Is that for me?” 

“Yes. Now drink up and get dressed.” 

“Yes, sir,” Sokka said, sitting up and taking the coffee. “This is the big one, isn’t it? The Hapsburg library you were telling me about?” 

Zuko was nearly vibrating with excitement. 

“It sure is. Apparently, there are books as old as the 14th century there. I don’t think we’ll be able to see any, they are probably kept in climate-controlled rooms. But still, to think… The oldest book I’ve ever seen was 16th century, and I practically cried.” 

“I remember that,” Sokka climbed from the bed and stretched. “That was in college, wasn’t it? That herbal or whatever it was that you had to do a project on?”

“Yes!” Zuko was lost in thought. “It was so beautiful. All musty and delicate. It smelled like mildew. Spirits, what I would give to see it again.” 

“Well, maybe you’ll see something even better today.” Sokka was picking through clothes in his dresser. “Is it a dress-up nice occasion?” 

“Probably. I want to go to dinner on our way back, and I think it’s a bit of an upscale place.” 

“Right-o,” Sokka said. 

Zuko went out on the balcony to drink the rest of his coffee and give Sokka privacy. The sky was a bit overcast today, and there was a chill in the air. It felt like the perfect weather for looking at old books, but maybe that was just the poet in Zuko that thought that. 

Sokka joined him on the balcony after a few minutes. He wore a tan button-up, rolled up at the sleeves. He looked good, and Zuko indulged himself in an appreciative once-over which made Sokka’s face flush. 

Before leaving the library, Zuko turned off his phone. He didn’t want his father calling him and ruining the exceptional day that laid before him.

They took a train to the library. Zuko was too eager to walk, he wanted to be there as quickly as possible. The building was outstandingly large, sprawling across the entire horizon. They hardly needed to step inside before Zuko was overwhelmed. The lobby itself had more books than Zuko had ever seen in one room. There were multiple levels connected with catwalk like ladders. The ceiling was domed and adorn with an elegant painting, in the center was a marble statue of a man, cape billowing over his shoulders. 

Zuko paused in the entryway, staring up at the painting and breathing it all in. Sokka stepped up beside him and wrapped his arm around his waist. 

“Alright, looks like we’ve seen it all already, time to go,” Sokka teased. 

“What?” Zuko squawked. “There’s so much-- This is only the--” 

“I’m teasing you, princess. Let’s go, come on, giddyup.” 

Sokka kept his hand on Zuko’s lower back as he pressed forward into the maze-like building. They wandered from room to room, Zuko taking slow deliberate steps as he absorbed everything around him. As they entered one of the wings, Zuko was distracted by the painting on the ceiling, while Sokka spotted something he knew would delight Zuko. 

“Hey, loverboy, look at this.” Sokka tugged Zuko’s hand and directed him toward the massive book sitting open on a stand. It was a handwritten manuscript, the pages ancient and yellowed. 

“Oh!” Zuko gasped, crossing the room quickly and pressing himself against the velvet rope that protected the book from tourist’s grubby hands. “Oh, spirits Sokka, this has to be pre-16th century. Look at the illumination on this page.” 

Zuko had his hand pressed to his heart, as though he was observing a newborn baby or a precious animal. Sokka didn’t get the same delight out of looking at a dusty old book in a language he couldn’t read, but seeing Zuko with such joy on his face nearly brought a tear to his eye. 

Sokka stood behind Zuko and wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist, chin on Zuko’s shoulder. 

“It’s very nice,” Sokka agreed. 

“It’s beautiful, ” Zuko corrected. 

You’re beautiful, Sokka thought but didn’t say.

All in all, they spent nearly four hours in the library. Zuko insisted on seeing every room. He spoke to the librarians and asked if there really were passageways behind some of the bookshelves. They confirmed there were, and Zuko nearly fainted. Zuko poured over ever globe in the library, studied every statue. He ran his fingers along the carved wood and took books from shelves and pinched the pages between his fingers. They saw exhibits of papyrus, entire rooms filled with cracked and aging maps, and, as promised, more books than either of them had ever seen in their entire lives. 

Zuko was positively blissful when they finally left the library. He recounted every sight to Sokka, as though Sokka hadn’t been beside him the entire time. Sokka listened closely, paying less attention to the actual words Zuko was saying and more to the absolute joy with which he said them. 

It was too early for dinner, so they stopped at a second sight for the day. It was the Museum of Fake Art, which Sokka had found online and thought sounded fun. They paid the fees and began to amble through the exhibits. There were forged works mimicking the paintings of Rembrandt, Klimt, and Mattise. They were all absolutely exquisite, and Sokka would never have known they were forgeries. 

Zuko had quieted down about the library. He observed the paintings with reverence, but a strange feeling had overcome him. It might have been a side-effect of the vivid wonder he had felt earlier, but something in him felt suddenly melancholy. 

Separated from Sokka in one of the galleries, Zuko stopped in front of one of the paintings. It was in the style of Monet, hazy colors depicting two figures on a riverbank, the twinkle of lights reminding Zuko of their first day in Budapest overlooking the Danube. 

Zuko lost himself in the painting. It was so convincing. He would never have known it wasn’t painted by Monet himself, and yet the plaque beside it proclaimed a name he’d never heard of. Zuko began to wonder if it really mattered anyway, the forgery was as good as the originals, and yet the painter of this one had died in obscurity while every person who’d ever taken an art history class would remember Monet’s name. 

Perhaps it didn’t matter what was real and what was fake. Perhaps all that mattered was how it made you feel when you looked upon it. 

Zuko’s thoughts drifted, as they often did, to his own circumstances. In a way, this entire trip was a forgery. A fake honeymoon, and yet, it was populated by two very real lovers. Did that still make it a forgery? And if so, which of them was the perpetrator, himself or Sokka? 

Across the gallery, Sokka was crouching, phone out to get an artistic photograph of one of the paintings. The feeling of affection that swelled in Zuko’s heart when he looked at Sokka felt real, it didn’t feel like a forgery. The looks Sokka gave Zuko, so soft and sentimental, those felt real too. Yet there was nothing honest about this trip. It was still a false honeymoon, and all the feelings would disappear once they returned to New York. They had to disappear. Zuko had a role to fulfill, a birthright to uphold. 

Which part was the forgery: their love, or the future they could never have? 

Which of them held the paintbrush: himself or Sokka? 

Zuko pulled himself away from the painting. He found Sokka across the gallery and said he was ready to go. Sokka seemed a bit disappointed, but cheered up when he linked arms with Zuko and said, “Does this mean we can go drink now?” 

“Sure. I think I could use a drink,” Zuko admitted. 

They found their way to the restaurant Zuko had read about. It was the most upscale place they had visited so far on the trip. Zuko didn’t care, his credit card didn’t have a limit and besides, he’d pay any sum to see the way Sokka’s face lit up when the bartender brought him a drink that was on actual, honest-to-spirits, fire. The bartender put out the fire with a hollow ball of ice and bowed low, offering the drink to Sokka. 

“Oh my gods, Zuko, this place is classy. ” 

Zuko chuckled. He ordered them a bottle of wine for the table. The waiter poured them each a glass and took their entree orders. Zuko ordered for the both of them, and Sokka was overjoyed when a plate of steak and garlic potatoes found its way to his place setting. 

Sokka moaned when he took his first bite, rolling his eyes back in an exaggeration of pleasure. 

“I take it you like it?” Zuko asked, taking a bite of his own meal. 

“I love it,” Sokka said. Then he chuckled and pointed a fork at Zuko. “You know, if being married to you is this fun, maybe we should do it for real.” 

Sokka laughed at his own joke. Zuko just stared, food half-chewed, frozen by Sokka’s words. 

For one wild moment, he considered saying, Yes, let’s do it, let’s get married. 

Then he considered saying, Is everything a joke to you? 

In the end, he said nothing. Sokka seemed to find this strange because he raised an eyebrow and tipped his head to one side in askance. Zuko stayed silent, finished his bite, sipped his wine, and looked away from Sokka. 

“Did I upset you?” Sokka asked. 

“No.” 

“You seem upset.” 

“I’m not upset. I’m just trying to enjoy my meal without making bad jokes.” 

“It wasn’t a joke Zuko--” Sokka considered for a moment. “Well, I guess it was. But I mean it, I’m having a great time.” 

“Mmm.” 

They finished their meal without incident. Zuko was quieter than usual and on the walk back to the hotel, they didn’t hold hands. They didn’t link arms and Sokka didn’t sling his arm around Zuko’s shoulders like he wanted to. 

That night Zuko insisted on taking the couch. He said it in such a harsh way that left no room for Sokka to argue. Sokka climbed into the large, empty bed alone and slept fitfully, wondering where he had gone wrong. 

The following day was rather strange. Zuko was cold and distant, a marked difference from how he had been the rest of the trip. Usually, Sokka could cheer him up with a bad joke and a glass of wine, but not this time. 

They toured and old cemetery, and a 19th-century villa. Neither of them talked much, and the trips felt stilted and awkward. Sokka floundered for something to say, a way to weasel the truth out of Zuko, but he was tight-lipped. 

When Sokka suggested they see the Hapsburg topiary maze, Zuko told Sokka to go on ahead. He wasn’t feeling well and wanted to go back to the hotel to rest. 

“Do you want me to come with?” Sokka asked. 

“No, go have fun. I’ll see you tonight,” Zuko said in a tone that left no room for argument. 

Sokka nodded and told Zuko to feel better. Zuko shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. Sokka watched him walk away back in the direction of the hotel, and felt like his heart was breaking. 

Sokka toured the maze anyway. As he wandered through the labyrinth of hedges his mind was entirely occupied with thoughts of Zuko. Vienna had taken a strange turn. Sokka supposed it had all started with the kiss on the Ferris wheel, but things had seemed fine after that, so Sokka was hard-pressed to believe it was the kiss that ruined everything. 

The phone calls, however, were another story. Sokka had seen it happen at least twice. Zuko’s father called, Zuko silenced the call. Sokka didn’t know all the details of what was going on between Zuko and his father, but he knew they had a difficult relationship.

It all took Sokka back to the college days when he had kissed Zuko behind the bleachers. Zuko had been so excited, so pliant and blissful in his arms, and then Zuko’s sister caught them and inevitably told their father. After that Zuko had refused to touch Sokka. He finished out the remainder of the semester with cold distance, and never called after graduation. 

It always came back to Zuko’s father. He was a cruel man, Sokka knew this. Zuko bore the scars to prove it. He didn’t approve of Zuko’s choice of company, and he would never accept Sokka as a son-in-law. This was a given. Sokka had known this from the beginning. It shouldn’t matter, though. In Sokka’s opinion, Zuko should be allowed to love whoever he loved, and if his father didn’t accept that then his father needn’t be a part of his life. He only brought Zuko pain. Sokka thought that anything that brought Zuko pain should be eradicated from the face of the planet. 

Sokka wondered what Zuko’s father knew about this trip. Zuko had been tight-lipped when it came to the details. If Sokka had to wager, he’d put money on that Zuko’s father had no idea Zuko was even here. And if he did, he doubted he knew who Zuko was with. 

Sokka raised his head and looked around his surroundings. He was surrounded on all sides by hedges. He hadn’t paid attention to where he was going, and now he was lost. 

Sokka wondered how to get out. Both of the maze, and the mess he’d made with Zuko. He could plod forward unthinkingly, as he usually did, but that would only get him more lost. He had to think his way out of this. 

Sokka retraced his steps to the best of his ability and recounted the trip in his mind. Zuko had been happy with him, there was no doubt about that. He was happy when they were together, happy when they had their lips on one another. Through drunken ramblings, Zuko had revealed that the idea of marrying Sokka wasn’t atrocious to him. When we’re married, he’d said. Not if, not in another life. But when. Someday. A possibility. He’d been drunk when he said it, but drunk words were sober thoughts. 

Zuko wanted to marry Sokka. Or at the very least, he wished that it was a possibility. Perhaps in Zuko’s mind, it wasn’t possible, but to Sokka, it was a very real possibility. He’d always loved Zuko. It wasn’t even a thought for him anymore. That realization had come and gone years ago when they were both nineteen and living together for their first year. He would always love Zuko, in whatever capacity Zuko allowed. As friends, as partners, as his adoring husband. It didn’t matter to Sokka, as long as Zuko was back in his life and stayed that way. 

He’d never said the words aloud, though. He’d never admitted it to Zuko. He hadn’t wanted to frighten him away, yet here they were, at what felt like a precipice. If he told Zuko, and Zuko didn’t reciprocate, then Sokka could catch the next flight home and they could forget all about it. If he did reciprocate, though… Well, then, the possibilities were endless. They could return to New York and get an apartment together. They could elope right here in Europe. It didn’t really matter to Sokka, as long as it was what Zuko wanted. 

Sokka emerged from the maze. He knew what he needed to do. Sokka caught the train back to the hotel, walking would take too long, and he had something he needed to say. 

Back in the hotel room, Zuko turned on his phone and felt his heart drop with the sight of the numerous missed calls from his father. 

It had all been a mistake. Kissing Sokka, letting things go as far as they had. Before the kiss, it would have been easy to write off all the fond looks and lingering touches as a bi-product of Sokka’s affectionate nature. It would have been easy to return to New York, to thank Sokka for the good trip, to assure him they would meet for drinks yet ignore the invitations and drown his feelings in his work, his responsibilities, the real world. Now though, now it felt impossible. 

He couldn’t deny that there was something -- be it love or lust -- between the two of them. 

He also couldn’t deny that he had a responsibility to his family, his father. A responsibility that could never facilitate whatever fantasy festered between himself and Sokka. 

It was like being nineteen all over again, frozen in fear behind the bleachers, praying Azula wouldn’t tell father but knowing in the bottom of his heart that she would. Except, nobody had caught them this time. The only offender was Zuko’s guilt, and it burned inside him like a wound.

Zuko knew he had delayed the inevitable long enough. He popped the bottle of wine that had been left in their room, poured a glass, tossed it back like a shot, and dialed his father’s number. 

“Zuko,” his father answered, voice cold. Zuko stayed silent. “Where are you?”

“Vienna.”

“And who’s there with you?”

“No one right now. I’m alone.” 

“Don’t play dumb with me.” 

“What do you want?” Zuko asked with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. 

“I want you to come home this instant. You need to board the next plane and stop this stupidity. This romp through Europe is not a fitting image for our family. I expect you home by the end of the week. I have someone you need to meet. The arrangements are already being made, your wedding will be scheduled by the end of the month.” 

“Father, I don’t think--”

“I don’t care what you think. You’ve had your fun. Disgracing this family might be enjoyable for you, but I’ve had enough. This is non-negotiable. Come directly to me from the airport. We will have words.” 

The phone line was dead before Zuko could respond. He set his phone on the table gingerly, trying to control his breath. It had gone exactly how he expected, and yet Zuko still felt bitter disappointment. He felt sad and heartbroken and so, so stupid for expecting anything different. 

Zuko was already packing his bags when the door to the hotel room banged opened. Sokka stood there, slightly breathless. 

“Zuko, I need to talk to you-- What are you doing?” Sokka looked frantic, staring between Zuko and the luggage laid out on the bed. 

“I’m leaving. I’m sorry Sokka, but I have to. I talked to my father, he has someone he needs me to meet. I need to catch the next plane.” 

“But…” Sokka took a few steps toward Zuko, then stopped. His shoulders were slumped, his face twisted in bitter disappointment. “But you can’t go.” 

“I have to. I have obligations to my family. This trip was a mistake. I left your airline ticket on the table. You have all the information you need for getting to Prague, the reservation is under my name.” 

“If you’re going, I’m coming with you.” 

“No, you aren’t.” Zuko’s voice was cold. Inside, his heart was shredding into a million pieces, but he forced his voice to stay steady. “I told you. This has all been a mistake. Don’t mention any of this when you return to the States. Goodbye, Sokka. Enjoy the rest of the trip.” 

Zuko pushed past Sokka without another word, and then he was gone. Out into the hall, and at the curb hailing a cab before he could look too closely at Sokka’s face and the tears that had welled there. 

Dwelling on the past would do him no good. Zuko steeled his heart and gave his instructions to the cab driver. They pulled away from the curb, and Zuko didn’t look back.

Chapter Text

Sokka didn’t sleep that night. He sat on the edge of the bed and cried. He tried calling Zuko, but the calls went to voicemail. Sokka didn’t have enough money to pay for a flight home, he would have to wait out the next few days and use the ticket Zuko had left him. Zuko had also left him a train ticket to Prague, and had written the name of the hotel on a slip of hotel stationery. 

It was all fucked. Everything felt awful. Sokka drank the free wine and wandered around the hotel room in a daze. He thought about calling Katara but didn’t have the energy. He wouldn’t know what to say anyway. ‘Well, things were going really great, until I kissed him and geared up to profess my undying love, and then he caught the next flight to New York and left me here alone.’ He didn’t want to admit such pitiful defeat to anyone, least of all his sister. She had warned him not to let anything go too far, to give Zuko space, and to make sure he was happy. He’d failed. He’d gotten too caught up in his own emotions and scared Zuko away. Scared him halfway across the world. 

The next morning Sokka boarded the train to Prague. He didn’t look out the window, he didn’t have anyone to chat with about the beautiful countryside. Instead, he stayed quiet and kept his eyes trained on the upholstery of the seat in front of him. 

Objectively, Prague was just as beautiful as Budapest or Vienna had been. But it held none of the joy the previous cities had. None of the elegance and charm. Sokka wondered how much of it had ever really come from the cities, or if the elegance and charm had all been housed in the beautiful man beside him. 

Inside the hotel, Sokka found two bottles of wine, just as there had been at the previous hotels. There were cute little chocolates and a coupon for a free architecture tour of the city. Sokka shoved it all aside and poured himself a glass of wine. He bolted it down and poured himself another. Drinking might help dull some of the pain. Or it wouldn’t, and he would just be drunk and sad, which was still somehow better than sober and sad. 

Sokka sat on the balcony and stared at the cloud-covered sky. Zuko was probably up there somewhere in a plane destined for New York. Bitterly, Sokka hoped he was just as heartbroken as Sokka was. It would serve him right. 

Zuko watched the stewardess call the first group for boarding. He had spent the night at the airport, the next flight wasn’t until the following day. Now he was here, watching his plane board, and his feet refused to move. 

He had no idea what he was doing. He dreaded the moment his flight touched the ground and he was back in the same city as his father. He thought of how their discussion was going to go. He had already been called a disappointment enough times for a lifetime, he didn’t need to hear it again. 

Zuko fantasized about strolling into his father’s office and slamming his hands on the desk. About confessing all, refusing to marry whatever woman his father had dragged out of the woodwork. He thought about announcing that he was already engaged to someone else, to someone beautiful and pure and good. Someone with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Someone who would never bear him children, but someone who would love him with every fiber of his being until the day Zuko died. 

It was a lie though. He wasn’t engaged to Sokka. He never had been, and now he never would be. Not now, not after the way he’d left, with the way he’d broken things off. 

Not after putting that sad, broken look on Sokka’s face. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, someone’s words echoed. You are a grown man, Zuko. You need to make choices for yourself, not for your father. You should make your own name for yourself. Who’s words had they been? His uncle’s? Sokka’s? An amalgamation of his own traitorous mind? 

Zuko paced the terminal. In his mind he held two dichotomous thoughts: Him standing at an altar beside a woman he had never known, dreading the life set forth for him by his father; him standing at an altar beside the most wonderful man he’d ever met, looking forward to endless paradise he himself had devised. 

The answer felt so simple, and yet so difficult all at the same time. Throw away his family, or throw away a singular person. 

Not just any person, his mind reminded him. The only person for you in this whole wide world. 

The stewardess announced last call for the flight. Zuko was nowhere in the terminal. He was racing to the curb, and hailing for a cab. 

Zuko arrived at the train station just in time for the next train to Prague. It was state of the art, one of the fastest ways to travel in Europe, and yet it couldn’t possibly go fast enough for Zuko’s liking. On the train, he made two phone calls. The first was to his uncle. The moment Iroh answered the phone, Zuko was spilling the entire story. He didn’t care that the other people in his cab would hear him. He didn’t care if the entire world heard him. 

“I’m on my way to Prague. I left Sokka there, I went to the airport but I couldn’t board the plane. I fucked up, Uncle. I made such a huge mistake. I was so rude to him and said things I didn’t mean.” 

“I’m sure he will forgive you, nephew.” Iroh’s voice was calm and kind, the way it always was. 

“I love him. I loved him before, and I knew I shouldn’t have taken this trip because it was only going to make things worse. But I think he loves me, too.” 

“I’m certain he does. You are very easy to love.” 

“But I hurt him, Uncle. I said-- I told him--” 

“Please listen to me,” Uncle Iroh spoke softly, but there was an urgency in his voice. “You apologize to that boy, and you listen to what he has to say. Be honest with him, and let him be honest with you. There is goodness in the universe, and that goodness will find you, Zuko. It has already found you, you just haven’t let it in.” 

“I know. I will. I’ll listen, and I’ll tell him the truth.” 

“And don’t for a moment think of your father. He has no say in how the rest of your life should play out. That decision is yours, and yours alone. And by the sound of it, you’ve already made your decision.”

“I’m going to ask him to marry me.” 

“Good. And on the day you wed, I will be right there beside you. Well, more likely, I’ll be in the audience, weeping like the silly old man I am.” 

“Thank you Uncle,” Zuko’s voice was thick with emotion. “Thank you for everything. Thank you for always supporting me, and for… Just, everything.” 

“You’re welcome, nephew.” 

“I’m going to call my father. I’m going to tell him the truth.” 

“Be brave, Zuko. And be honest. That’s all the universe can ask of you.” 

Zuko said his goodbyes and the line went dead. He took several deep breaths, controlled his emotions, and called his father. 

“Zuko,” his father answered, voice just as cold as ever. “Are you back in New York?” 

“I’m on my way to Prague.” 

“I thought I told you--” 

“You did. And I didn’t listen. I’m on my way to Prague where Sokka is. I’m going to find him, and I’m going to ask him to be my husband. This is non-negotiable.” 

It felt so sweet to use his father’s own words against him. His father sputtered on a response and Zuko plowed forward. 

“If he won’t marry me, then fine, I guess I’ll never be married. Or maybe I will find someone else. But it won’t be somebody you choose. I’m done letting you choose for me. It’s never done me any good. Consider this my resignation from the company.” 

“You’ve dug your grave,” his father said. “Now lie in it.” 

The line went dead. It was one of the most glorious sounds Zuko had ever heard. His hands were shaking, his heart felt near bursting with every emotion under the sun. Zuko looked out the window, watched the countryside pass him by, enshrouded in clouds. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. 

“I’ve lost my room key,” Zuko said to the man behind the counter at the hotel. “I’m Zuko Sozin. My party checked in earlier today, but I seem to have lost my room key. Is there any way you can give me a replacement?” 

The man asked for identification and tapped briskly on the keyboard. 

“I see that you checked into the room today at 11 AM. The King Suite?” 

Sokka was here. He’d come to Prague. The information was overwhelming. 

“Yes, yes that’s us.” 

“I can give you a replacement, but there will be a surcharge. Would you like the pay now, or at checkout?” 

“Either. It doesn’t matter, whatever is fastest.” 

“I will apply it to your checkout bill. Here you are, sir.” 

The man passed a keycard across the countertop. Zuko yelled a thank you over his shoulder as he raced to the elevator. Zuko found the room quickly and slid the keycard in the door. It opened with a small click, and Zuko threw open the door. 

Sokka wasn’t there. His luggage was on the bed, an empty bottle of wine sitting on the table, but the room was empty. Zuko brought his luggage into the room and wander through every nook and cranny, hoping that Sokka was just out of sight. He had no luck. 

Zuko walked to the windows that overlooked the city of Prague. He pressed a hand to the glass and stared out at the people bustling below, the skyline of medieval spires and Baroque architecture. Sokka was out there, somewhere, in this great foreign city. Zuko thought he knew where, but it was impossible to be sure. The world was wide and open, there were so many nooks and crannies where he could be hiding. 

Zuko wrote a note and left it on the table in case Sokka came back before Zuko found him. Then he pocketed his keycard and left the hotel in search of the man he loved.

Chapter Text

Wallowing in self-pity had been fun for about an hour or two, but after that Sokka got fed up. He stood in the hotel room overlooking the city before he told himself there was no use crying to himself alone in the hotel. He’d always wanted to see Prague, and as much as he wished he was doing so with Zuko beside him, goddamn if he wasn’t going to enjoy himself. 

Slightly tipsy and nerves frazzled, Sokka left the hotel room and strolled the city. They had discussed the Prague itinerary at great length. There was a lot Zuko had wanted to see in the city, more old libraries, a museum of alchemy, those kinds of things. Sokka had looked forward to them, but only when Zuko was by his side. There was only one thing on Sokka’s list. A marvel of ancient mechanics, a cornerstone of 14th-century craftsmanship. 

Sokka walked through the streets until he found the clocktower. The Astronomical Clock was absolutely stunning. So many working parts, all moving in tandem, in sync with one another. It showed the time in four different dialects, the phases of the moon, the location of the sun through the constellations. The date, the month, the day of the week. The current phase of the zodiac. 

November 20th. 6:52 PM. They were in the phase of Scorpio. Tomorrow was Zuko’s birthday. He would be turning 29. Sokka had planned out the entire day. Breakfast at a cafe Zuko would have liked, a tour of a creepy old cemetery, and then a stroll through the shopping district, culminating with a tour of Strahov Monastery which boasted one of the oldest libraries in the city. They would have gotten dinner together and took a bottle of wine back to the hotel. They would have laughed and talked and maybe even kissed. 

Sokka clenched his hands into fists and stared up at the clock. Minutes passed, each part of the clock moving in perfect harmony. He and Zuko had moved like that once, years ago. And then again, only days ago. Not any longer. Sokka wondered if they would ever speak again. 

People moved all around him, but Sokka was rooted to the spot. Tears welled in his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall. He’d cried enough for someone who probably hadn’t spared a second thought for him. 

Zuko raced through the streets. He thought he saw Sokka a dozen times, but they were only strangers. People watched him strangely, but Zuko didn’t care. He only had eyes for one person. 

The clock came into view and Zuko felt his heart leap into his throat. He knew he ought not get his hopes up, there were a million sights in this city and it was impossible to predict where Sokka would have gone. He should have been ripping open pub doors, darting into every bar he passed. He was more likely to find Sokka drowning his sorrows in a pint of beer than out sightseeing. 

Zuko approached the clock tower and it was then that he saw him. Standing squarely in front of the tower, eyes focused on the moving parts, hands clenched at his sides. His shoulders were slumped, his hair in disarray as if he had been running his fingers through it. 

Zuko slowed his pace and forced himself to walk normally. He had thought so much about getting here that had no idea what to say now that he was here. He walked to stand beside Sokka. Sokka didn’t even turn his head, he gave no indication that he knew anyone was standing beside him. Around them, tourists laughed and chatted and took pictures, yet it still felt like the whole world was at a standstill. 

After a moment Zuko cleared his throat and said, “Do you know the legend of the old clockmaker?” 

Sokka whipped his eyes to Zuko, and Zuko forced himself not to look. He kept his eyes trained on the clock. 

“The story goes that he was a master craftsman, and he built this tower. Everyone in the nation was envious of the clock’s beauty and they begged him to make one for their city. The old masters were fearful that he would share the secrets with another nation, so they blinded him before he could ever copy down the plans. Driven mad, the old clockmaker threw himself from his own tower and lodged himself in the gears of his own clock, ensuring that the secret and the clock both died with him.”

Zuko finally turned to look at Sokka. His eyes were wet. He gaped at Zuko, mouth parted and a dumbfounded look scrawled across his face. 

“It’s just a story, of course. Rather macabre, but still interesting--” 

“I thought you left.” Sokka’s voice was rough, thick with emotion. 

“I did, but I came back,” Zuko said with a shrug. His hands were shaking. 

“I love you,” Sokka said, the words so plain and simple, so perfectly suitable on his lips. “I’m in love with you.” 

“What?” Zuko choked out. It wasn’t that he was surprised by the words, it was just that Zuko was the one who was supposed to say them. That was the whole reason he’d raced here, those words on the tip of his tongue the entire time he’d been searching for Sokka. He was the one who was supposed to confess, and instead, he’d rambled about the old clockmaker. “Sokka…” 

Sokka stepped forward and took Zuko’s shoulders in his hands.

“I love you. I thought you left and it broke my heart. I love you, and I can’t help but wish this entire trip was for real because I would marry you in a heartbeat. If you’d have me.”

Zuko gasped out a breathless laugh. 

“Yes. Yes, I… I’m so sorry I left. I was confused and I didn’t know what I really wanted. I shouldn’t have left.” 

“But you came back. Why did you come back?” 

“Because I love you, too. I think I’ve loved you for years. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you.” 

“Better late than never,” Sokka said, then he kissed Zuko. He pressed their lips together and crushed Zuko to his chest and held him close. 

Zuko threaded his fingers through Sokka’s hair and kissed him desperately, kissed with everything left in his freshly mended heart. Behind them, the clock tolled and they kissed until the bells stopped ringing, and they kissed even after. 

Nothing else mattered. Not the city around them, not the people who gaped in awe at the strange reunion they saw before them. The two of them were alone in the universe, singular and exceptional, two specs at the center of their own private cosmos. 

Night had fallen by the time they walked back towards the hotel. Fingers intertwined, they mosied through the bustling city streets. Prague was rather beautiful, Sokka realized. He hadn’t noticed before, caught up in his own head. 

“Have you eaten?” Sokka asked. 

“Not really. I have been kind of all over the place for the last few hours. Days? I don’t even know what day it is right now.” 

Sokka chuckled. “Let’s get dinner. Restaurant or pub?” 

“Pub. Somewhere with beer.” 

“Look at you,” Sokka teased. “I knew I’d turn you into a beer person.” 

“Don’t get too excited, I was only saying it for your benefit.” 

“Sure you were, princess. This looks good enough, let’s go in here.” 

They entered the bar, hand in hand. The bartender smiled at them and asked, “Honeymoon?” 

“First date, actually,” Sokka said. He grinned at Zuko beside him. Zuko grinned back. 

“Ah, even better!” The man chuckled. “First round is on the house.” 

He gestured them to a seat and they took up the menu. The man brought them their drinks, and they both smiled at each other with foamy beer mustaches. 

Over their meals, Zuko cleared his throat and said, “So, uh… Did you, um, propose to me back there?” 

“Oh,” Sokka chuckled nervously. “I guess I kind of did.” 

Zuko nodded, taking up his beer thoughtfully. 

“It was in the heat of the moment. Not that I didn’t mean it! It’s just, you know, we can start with dating first.” 

Zuko shrugged. 

“It doesn’t really matter to me either way. I kind of, uh, told my dad I was on my way to Prague to ask you to marry me. So, again, we can start with dating first. But just so you know, marriage is not, you know, off the table…” 

They stared at one another, and both broke out into nervous laughter at the same time. 

“Wait, wait-- You actually said that to your dad?” 

Zuko shrugged again. “He wanted me to come home to meet some woman he was trying to arrange for me to marry. I kind of told him to fuck off. And I also resigned from the company.” 

“Holy shit, really? Wow, Zuko, that’s… That’s a lot.” 

“It was a long time coming…” Zuko stared at the table as he spoke. “And it felt good to do it.” 

“Good for you!” Sokka raised his glass in a toast. “To you, and your newfound independence!” 

“Rude,” Zuko teased as he tapped his glass to Sokka’s. 

Sokka didn’t lower his glass after he drank, just raised it again and said, “And to us, and our engagement-honeymoon-thing!”

Zuko laughed and toasted again. 

“This trip really has been a mess. Looking back, what will we even call it? Our honeymoon where we also got engaged?” Sokka asked. 

“ Are we engaged?” Zuko asked. 

Sokka shrugged. Zuko shrugged too. They laughed again. 

“How about this,” Sokka said, “Tomorrow, we go to one of those fancy little jewelers in town. I’ll buy you a ring, and you can tell people whatever you want. It can be a promise ring if you want, or it can be an engagement ring, whatever you like the sound of. We won’t plan anything right off the bat, there’s no need to rush. If you just quit your job, you’ll probably need some time to get back on your feet. I’ll help in any way I can. Once everything is settled, and whatever fallout from this trip has passed, we can negotiate a possible wedding. Maybe. If you still want to.” 

Zuko was a bit breathless. He nodded, then haltingly choked out, “Yeah, that sounds good. That sounds really, really good. And I’ll buy you a ring, too... “ Zuko shrugged one shoulder. “We don’t have to call it anything. We can just call it us, you and me, together or whatever.” 

“And someday I promise I’ll propose to you in a better way. Not whatever that was back there.” 

“I don’t know if there is a better way, to be honest,” Zuko smirked. “There’s kind of nothing better than being proposed to in front of a major historical landmark. People plan that kind of thing for years, it’s just our luck that it happened spontaneously.” 

“Fair enough,” Sokka laughed. “I can’t argue with you there.” 

They finished their meals and drank more beers than they intended to. The walk back to the hotel was a cacophony of laughter and Sokka singing songs of his own creation. They held hands the entire way. That night there was no hesitation as they climbed into bed beside one another, fingers loosely intertwined, breath soft on each other’s cheeks. 

“What happens now?” Zuko asked into the darkness of the room. He could see the lights of Sokka’s eyes, reflective in the moonlight. They were curled like parentheses, facing one another across the expanse of the bed. 

“What do you mean?” Sokka asked. 

“With work. My family. All of it.” 

“I can’t really answer that,” Sokka said softly. “Only you know what will happen with your family. As far as I can see it, we finish out this trip and eventually -- unfortunately -- we go back to New York when our time is up.” 

“I’ll need to go collect my things from my office if my father hasn’t thrown them out on the street already.” 

“Call your uncle. See if he can go collect them for you.” 

“I’ll have to get another job soon. I have savings, but I won’t be able to afford my apartment for long if I don’t find something fast. There is an acquisitions company that tried to scout me last year, I could call them up and see if they’re still interested…” 

“Don’t go back into business,” Sokka squeezed Zuko’s hands. “You’re not meant to waste away in some stuffy office building.” 

“Oh?” Zuko chuckled. “Where am I meant to waste away, then?”

“In some home office with a typewriter. I picture the room as wood-paneled for some reason. A glass of Scotch on your desk, surrounded by cigarette smoke--” 

“I don’t smoke.” 

“Shhh… For the sake of this fantasy, you smoke. You’re on your fourth novel. You’re scheduled to do book touring all around the world. And I, your humble servant, bring in bags of fan mail and drop them at your feet.” 

“You think I should write?” Zuko’s voice was small, breathless, disbelieving. “But how? Sokka, I need to pay bills--” 

“No, you don’t. Come live with me. Get rid of your apartment, we can share mine. Go work at your uncle’s cafe if you need extra income. You can share my office in the second bedroom.” 

“I don’t know…” Zuko did know. He knew that the idea of sharing an apartment with Sokka and writing his book was every dream he’d ever had wrapped into one. It was a fantasy too good to be true. “I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“Impose on what?” Sokka laughed and squeezed Zuko’s hands again. “We lived together for years, so we already know what each other is like. We’ve shared the same room for a week now and haven’t killed each other. You wouldn’t be imposing, I promise. You’d be making me happy.” 

“My father will be angry. He’s going to disown me. He hasn’t said it yet, but I bet he’s already contacted the lawyers and written me out of the will.” 

“So what? I mean, I know that’s awful and it must suck for you. But you don’t need him. You’ll have my family. And you know that gang already loves you. And you’ll have your uncle. You don’t need toxic people in your life, you just need people who love you.” 

Zuko sighed and shuffled closer on the bed, tucking his face against Sokka’s shoulder. Sokka threaded his fingers through Zuko’s hair and held him close. 

“Whatever happens next, you’ll have me. I promise it won’t be as bad as you think it will be.” 

Zuko nodded against Sokka’s chest. They fell asleep like that, pressed against one another, wrapped languidly in one another’s arms. 

Chapter Text

Sokka snuck out early the next morning, just as the sun was rising. Zuko was still wrapped in the blankets, face buried in the pillows. Sokka dressed as silently as he could and slipped out into the city streets. He found a cafe nearby and ordered an entire breakfast spread to go. The paper bag was so heavy Sokka had to carry it from the bottom so the handles wouldn’t rip off. He lugged it back into the hotel room and organized the breakfast on the table. From the lobby downstairs Sokka got two pipping cups of coffee and brought them up to the room. 

Taking a step back, Sokka observed the spread laid out before him. Fresh bread, tiny containers of jams and honey, a pile of sugary pastries, soft cheese and cured meats, a bowl of colorful fruit. 

Zuko was still wrapped up in the covers. He had stretched one hand out to where Sokka had been laying, his fingers tangled in Sokka’s pillowcase. Sokka climbed into the bed behind Zuko and wrapped his arms around his waist. 

“Time to get up, birthday boy,” Sokka said, pressing kisses to Zuko’s shoulders, his neck, his cheek. Zuko began to stir, pulling away from Sokka at first, before opening his eyes and realizing what was happening. As soon as his golden eyes focused on Sokka he smiled and tipped his face upward so Sokka could kiss his cheek properly.

“Hi,” Zuko said, voice thick with sleep. “Why are you up so early?”

“It’s your birthday! And I brought you breakfast!” 

Zuko sat up on his elbows and looked to the table across the room. He stared for a few seconds, blinking, before turning to Sokka with an expression of astonishment. 

“You got all that for me?” 

“Well, I’m going to have some, too. Obviously. ” 

Zuko took Sokka’s face in his hands and kissed him square on the mouth. They found their way out of bed eventually and Zuko took a seat at the table. He tasted every pot of jam, licked honey from his fingertips. He sipped his coffee and stared across the table at Sokka. 

“You’re wonderful, you know that, right?” Zuko asked fondly. Sokka shrugged, ripping a chunk of bread from the loaf and dunking it in raspberry jam. 

“You deserve it,” Sokka said through a mouthful of bread. Zuko scowled. Sokka laughed. 

They lingered over breakfast, taking their time savoring over every piece almost as much as they savored the time with one another. It was nearly noon before they motivated to head into town. It was a chilly day, overcast and drizzling. All the better to walk closely, Sokka’s arms around Zuko’s shoulders. 

They found their way to a jeweler and browsed for a long time. Eventually, they both agreed upon a matching pair of rings, slim and humble, white gold inset with a trio of diamond and onyx chips. The set was identical. Outside the jeweler's, in view of St. Nicholas Church, they slid the rings onto each other’s fingers and admired the way they glistened in the overcast daylight.

“I can’t believe this,” Sokka said, holding Zuko’s hand in his and admiring the way the ring sat on his slim finger. “Am I dreaming? Slap me, please. Give me a good smack, wake me up from whatever this is.” 

“If you’re dreaming, then I am too. No use waking up if it’s a good dream.” 

“Can I take a picture?” Sokka asked. “Am I allowed to tell people about this?” 

“Sure,” Zuko didn’t want to admit that the idea excited him. What would the others have to say about this? Would they be happy? Bewildered, excited, confused? 

They held their hands up in front of the church, the black clocktower and dazzling spire in the background of the photo. In the foreground were their hands, side by side, engagement bands unmistakably placed on their ring fingers.   

Sokka tapped on his phone for a bit before pocketing it with a smirk. 

“I sent the picture in our WhatsApp group chat. We’ll see how that goes over.” 

“No caption?”

“Well, I captioned it for Toph so she’ll know what it’s a picture of. But I didn’t leave any explanation. I’ll let them infer for themselves.” 

“Evil,” Zuko laughed, intertwining their fingers. “You just like messing with them.” 

“It’s fun,” Sokka shrugged. He tugged at Zuko’s hand. “Come on, I have somewhere you’ll like.” 

“Is it the monastery?” Zuko asked, trailing along as Sokka began to walk off toward an unknown direction. “I still want to see the library there.”

“Haven’t you seen enough libraries?” Sokka teased. 

“Well, I guess so…” Zuko sounded a bit disappointed, but he had already asked a lot of Sokka on this trip and didn’t want to burden him with anymore boring book tours. “If it isn’t the monastery, what is it?” 

“You’ll see.” 

“No fair.” 

“Come along princess, keep up now.” 

As they drew closer to their destination, Zuko’s suspicion grew. They seemed to be going in the right direction. He looked at Sokka suspiciously, but Sokka just whistled and swung their hands, looking as innocent as a common criminal. 

“You’re a liar,” Zuko prodded. 

“I’ve never lied in my life.” 

“See, that right there is a lie.” 

“We can’t be starting this relationship out on a foundation of lies. What good would that do anyone?”

“Still a liar,” Zuko narrowed his eyes at Sokka. As they rounded a corner Zuko grinned and slapped Sokka’s shoulder. “I knew it! You are a liar!” 

“I never said we weren’t going. You just assumed that for yourself.” 

The Strahov Monastery stood before them in all its baroque glory. Sokka continued to whistle innocently as he marched them to the entrance and tugged Zuko inside. Once indoors he dropped Zuko’s hands and made a shooing motion. 

“Go on then, go moon over old books, you big nerd.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“I want to see the cabinet of curiosities. I heard there’s a dodo bird here. I’ll find you once I’m done.” 

Zuko hesitated, then stepped back to Sokka for a kiss before darting off and disappearing into the Theological Hall to moon over the shelves and globes, or whatever else was in there. Sokka strolled through the rooms leisurely, hands in pockets. He found a large stuffed chair and flopped in it, taking out his phone to check the responses. 

Katara: 

Is that what I think it is?!?!?! 

Aang: 

Whoa whoa whoa what am I looking at right now

Toph: 

What the hell Sokka? Are you engaged? 

To Sparky?? 

Katara:

He’s still in Prague, so unless he met some foreign stranger I’m guessing that’s Zuko’s hand

Suki:

SOKKA! EXPLAIN YOURSELF

Aang:

Did you get engaged in Europe?

That’s so romantic !!

Toph:

You haven’t even seen him in years and now you're marrying him? Bold move

Suki:

We all knew this was going to happen

Katara:

Are you telling me you got engaged on your honeymoon? Oh man, this is TOO good

Sokka:

Yep. That’s exactly what I’m telling you :)

I’ll explain more later

Right now I have to go find my FIANCE, he’s lost somewhere in a maze of books.

I have to save him from himself

Aang:

CONGRATULATIONS

Katara:

I’m calling you later, I need answers NOW

Toph:

I always knew you were a sap.

And also gay for Zuko.

Sokka muted his phone and went looking for Zuko. He found him in a grand hall, standing square in front of a huge case of books. He had his hands in his pockets, staring upward, completely unaware of his surroundings. Sokka crept closer before poking his fingers into Zuko’s sides and laughing when he startled. 

“Rude,” Zuko said, laughter in his voice. 

“That’s me, rude as can be,” Sokka joked, sliding his arms around Zuko and hugging him from behind. Chin on his shoulder, Sokka listened as Zuko rambled on about the philosophical and religious texts in front of them. They looked to the ceiling together and observed the dazzling paintings above their heads. 

It was an unfortunate reality of life that all good things must end. The trip had been both endlessly long, and far too short for either of them. Before either of them imagined, they were taking a cab to the airport and waiting for their flight home. 

They got drinks at an airport bar and Zuko observed the plane ticket in his hands. Across from him Sokka recounted all his favorite sights and scrolled through his phone lamenting how he wished he’d taken more photos of this and that. Zuko was half-listening. His eyes were fixated on the ticket in his hand, eyes tracing every letter, mind elsewhere. 

Not even a month ago Zuko had held these same tickets in his hands a different man. A man controlled by a father who never loved him, a slave to his own shame and dissatisfaction with life, estranged from the man in front of him. Leaving New York his future was dim and dismal. Returning, it was full of possibility and hope and love. 

Uncle was going to be so smug about this. Zuko almost dreaded telling him. Almost. Mostly he was brimming with excitement, eager to rant and rave about the prospect of spending his life with someone he truly loved. 

Zuko looked at the tickets, looked at the ring sitting pretty on his left hand, then looked across the table to Sokka’s brilliant smile. Everything felt right in his tiny, complicated, wonderful world.