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Zuko glanced nervously at the stranger in his passenger seat.
Said stranger grinned back at him.
Eyes on the road, he told himself, and went back to staring back at the barren concrete that stretched on for miles, all disappearing under the wheels of the van. It was easier than figuring out just how the hell he had gotten himself tied up like this.
Well, no, that wasn’t true. Zuko knew exactly how this had happened.
Some part of his caffeine-addled, awake-since-six-in-the-morning mind had flipped out when he spotted the lone figure meandering by the side of the road, bag hanging from his back. He had been kicking up the dust underneath his feet as he held out one thumb, extended so that anyone passing by could see.
Zuko was someone passing by. Zuko could very clearly see the stranger’s thumb, and despite what Azula told him, he was not stupid. He knew a hitchhiker when he saw one. He knew how to avoid them.
But, again. Awake since six in the morning, currently one and a half hours later. Caffeine. Way more than his uncle would have allowed.
He shouldn’t be blamed for what had happened next.
Grumbling under his breath, Zuko slowed down the creaky, archaic van that his uncle was making him drive. With a huff he stretched across the seat, cranking down the window as fast as he could.
“Hey!” he called out to the hitchhiker. “Hey, you!”
The hitchhiker whirled around, eyes wide as he now used his thumb to point at himself. “Me?” he asked, shouting across the quickly dwindling space between them.
“Do you see anyone else out here?”
He gave the dry, grassy land around them a quick look before shaking his head.
Zuko tried not to groan. This kid was going to be eaten alive. “What the hell are you-”
The hitchhiker, whose hearing was as poor as his observation skills, bounded over to the van and threw open the door, not even waiting for it to stop before hopping into the passenger seat with a grin. “Wow, thanks!” he said, voice no less quiet than when he had been outside, and he dropped his backpack on the floor. “I’ve been walking ever since I left the hotel a few hours ago and I was kinda scared that I was going to run out of water soon and I guess I could’ve found some but there aren’t a whole lot of streams around here so I was gonna have to hold out until I found one and-”
Zuko slammed his foot on the brakes, and they both lurched forward violently. Zuko’s forehead collided with the dashboard, just so that his day could get a little worse.
“Oh, wow, are you okay?” the hitchhiker asked as Zuko swore and rubbed at his head. His voice actually sounded concerned as he leaned over, tilting his head to get a better look. “I bet that hurt.”
“It did, ” Zuko hissed out. He stayed there for a few moments, hand pressed against his forehead to try and help with the pain, before sighing and dropping it. Whatever. He was just going to have to think of it as a skin-level migraine and deal.
“I’m Aang, by the way.”
Zuko slowly turned his head to glare at the hitchhiker- Aang. “What are you doing in my car?”
Aang frowned, puzzled. “It looks more like a van to me.”
It took all of Zuko’s paper-thin patience not to kick open the door and just push the kid out onto the road. “Just answer the question,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Well, didn’t you stop to let me in?” Aang, still not buckled up, shifted in his seat so that he was staring Zuko straight in the eyes. It was a little unnerving. “I mean, that’s what you do with hitchhikers.”
“Yeah, I know." This was a bad idea, he noted bitterly. “Some people also kidnap them and dump their bodies in a ditch. How do you know that I won’t do that to you, or that the next person who picks you up won’t?”
It was, frankly, none of Zuko’s business. He wasn’t even sure if he cared or not, but for the past seven years, his Uncle Iroh had been drilling into his head that he should always offer his help when he felt that it needed to be given. And when Zuko looked down at Aang’s dirt-covered shoes and then up at his bright, naive smile, he had a feeling that he was going to be one of the only people to feel a little generous.
“You aren’t, are you?”
That made Zuko pause. “What?”
Aang smiled at him again, calm and steady, as if Zuko was some puzzle that he had already figured out. “You aren’t going to kidnap me and leave my body in a ditch?”
Zuko took a deep breath and counted to ten in his head. “It’s not on my to-do list, no.”
“Then I’ll be fine with you, won’t I?” Then Aang’s grin began to wane. “Unless you don’t want to take me. That’s okay, too, I can just find another ride.”
Kick him out, Zuko thought. This is your chance.
Do not! countered a voice that sounded suspiciously like his uncle. Look at him! Do you think he will last for more than a day on his own?
“How old are you?” Zuko asked, dread settling into his stomach. “And where are you going?”
The spark in Aang’s eyes brightened immediately. “I’m eighteen,” he said, which meant that Zuko had to cross out calling child protective services from his list. “And I’m meeting my friends. . .” He grabbed a phone out of one of his pockets and pulled up a photo; a small island, barely a dot where it stood next to Massachusetts. “Here.”
Massachusetts. Not that far off from New York. Not enough to where Zuko could claim that it was too out of the way, ditch this Aang kid at the next gas station, and then go and face his uncle as if nothing had happened.
He considered, just for a moment, slamming his head against the dashboard again and letting the concussion take over.
Instead, he sighed, taking his foot back off the brakes. “Buckle up.”
Aang’s grin somehow grew wider.
From California to New York, it was about forty-three hours of straight driving. Thanks to a Google search courtesy of the last of Aang’s cell phone data, the drive to Massachusetts was forty-five hours long. Coupled with the stops for meals, bathroom breaks, and hotels at night, that meant a little less than a week on the road.
Zuko and his new travel buddy had been driving for around two hours now, and honestly, he didn’t think that they were going to make it.
At first, Aang had tried to spark up a conversation, striking a wet match and expecting for it to catch aflame. In the past two hours, he had learned that Aang was eighteen, vegetarian, had a Newfoundland dog named Appa, and was going to meet his friends at some place called Amrita Island, where they would all be staying with the father of two of his friends. No, Zuko did not find out why they were separated in the first place and no, he did not care.
During that time he had a feeling that all Aang learned about him was that he didn’t like picking up strangers and that he had a caffeine addiction. Though to be fair, Zuko figured that summed up his personality very well.
As they passed the border to Nevada, Aang leaned back from the window, where he had been sticking his head out like a puppy on his first car ride.
“So,” he asked, voice still painfully cheerful even after it had probably been rubbed raw from the wind, “wanna play Twenty Questions?”
“As in the guessing game?”
“The get-to-know-you game!”
No, Zuko thought, no I do not. But after literal years of dodging social interactions whenever he could, he had figured out that the best way to shut someone up was to appease them for just a little while. “Sure.”
Aang perked up immediately, and he shifted in his seat to look directly at Zuko so quickly that he almost fell off. “Alright, I’ll go first,” he said before Zuko could start regretting anything. “Where are you heading to?”
Easy question, thank god. Zuko tried not to let the relief show on his face. “New York City.”
“Really?” Aang leaned forward again, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “That’s so cool! Why?”
“Hey, it’s my turn.” He pursed his lips, trying to think of what he could ask that didn’t seem like a cop-out. “What do your parents think about the whole moving to an island thing?”
“Oh, I don’t have parents.”
Zuko blanched. Shit shit shit shit shit. Not the direction he had been going for. “Uh. Well. Sorry about that,” he said after a moment, and he tightened his grip on the wheel to make sure that he wouldn’t start messing with the hair at the back of his head, a nervous habit he was trying to break.
Aang waved a hand, brushing aside his stammered sympathies. “It’s fine, they died when I was young. I was raised by my grandfather.”
That just produced a whole slew of questions that Zuko knew better than to ask. He had gotten more than his fair share of inquiries over the years, his own face standing as a clickbait article for strangers to pounce on. Top Ten Ways To Shut Up Your Son- Number Five Will Surprise You!
“. . . So, your turn?” he said, not exactly eager to follow that train of thought.
“Right!” Aang straightened up, clapping his hands together. “Why are you heading to New York?”
“My uncle.” In his head, Zuko did a quick run-through of what exactly was comfortable to drop into an everyday conversation. Not that these were everyday circumstances. “I live with him. He’s opening a tea shop on this old property from his father and had to fly in early to get some last-minute paperwork done, so I stayed behind and packed.” He jabbed a thumb towards the back of the van. “I’m bringing up all the heavy luggage and things that we forgot last time.”
Aang turned around and examined the small tower of Zuko’s old yearbooks stacked up in one corner, dangerously on the edge of teetering over. “Lots of stuff.”
“My uncle is a sentimental man.” His lips quirked up at the memory of Iroh struggling to fit an entire tea set into one box, only for the cardboard to burst open at the end, the silver tray poking out of each side. It had gotten a laugh out of Zuko until they both had to spend the rest of the day wrapping each piece of the tea set in bubble wrap and picking up stray pieces of cardboard.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Aang opening up his mouth, hesitating, and then closing it again, and put it down in his mental list of Weird Things Aang Does To Tell Uncle About Later.
“Your uncle seems cool,” Aang said after a moment.
Zuko just nodded. If the kid was trying to pry more information out of him, he was going to have to play by the rules of the game.
“Okay, your question now.” Unphased by the silence, Aang once again turned back towards the window and stuck his arm out, sliding up and down with the wind.
They went on like that until they reached twenty; Aang doing his best to try and get Zuko to open up and Zuko doing his best to shut it down. Though the way he tensed whenever Aang asked something that struck too close to a nerve- do you have any siblings? How come your uncle took so long to move out to his own property? - probably gave away more than his mumbled replies.
"Last question,” Zuko said, holding back a sigh of relief. They were much closer to civilization now, with a lot more cars passing by, so he could barely spare Aang a glance to the side.
“Hmmm. . .” He heard Aang hum to himself as he thought. “How did you get the scar?”
The fact that Zuko didn’t swerve off the road right then and there was a testament to how strong his driving skills were.
“Ooooo-kay.” Aang’s voice was unsteady for once as he dragged out the word. “You don’t have to answer that one.”
“I won’t,” Zuko snapped, and for some reason, something in his stomach twisted at the way Aang drew back.
The silence that followed was almost deafening.
Their conversations were sparse for the rest of the day, despite Aang’s efforts. They stopped along the road a couple of times for lunch and dinner, during which Aang would chatter on about anything under the sun, but they still managed to be quiet affairs.
He would never admit it out loud, but Zuko was coming to find him bearable. Even though once something got him talking it was impossible to slow him down, Aang seemed to know when to shut up, which meant he was already easier to deal with than most of the people in Zuko’s life. He also skirted around topics like Zuko’s scar and any other part of his past, sticking for shallow questions like his favorite movie or if he preferred cats or dogs. (Cats.)
Considering Zuko’s utter lack of social life, it was almost a little tragic that they would probably never see each other again after Aang was dropped off in Massachusetts.
Almost.
“There should be wifi here, right?” Aang asked as they pulled into the motel parking lot. The street lamps above them flickered in the dim moonlight as Zuko parked the van.
He nodded. Aang had been trying to get in touch with his friends whenever his phone could manage it, but no one had picked up so far.
“I’ll pay for the room,” Zuko said as he pulled the van’s keys out of its slot. “You paid for the food earlier,” he added once Aang opened his mouth, probably to protest. “So I’m doing this now.”
Aang stared at him for a few moments, and then he gave him a smile that was somehow bigger and brighter than any other he had made all day. “You know, you’re pretty cool sometimes,” was all he said before he hopped out of the van.
Zuko blinked, watching him pull out his phone and lean against the wall of the motel. Sometimes?
With a sigh, he got out of the van and headed into the lobby. Lucky for him, the late hour meant that there was hardly any wait at the front desk, and soon he was walking back out with a key swinging from his finger.
“No, no, he’s not an escaped convict,” Aang said, phone pressed up against his ear. “I mean, I don’t think so.” He paused, and even from where Zuko was standing he could hear a very loud, very distressed voice yelling something on the other end of the line. “You know, Zuko actually said something like that. He-“ Aang looked over at Zuko as he stepped closer, and his face lit up as if they were lifelong friends instead of strangers sharing a motel room. “He’s right here, actually!”
Without any warning, he shoved the phone into Zuko’s face, and by the time Zuko caught it and read the contact name, Aang had slipped the key off of his finger and ran off- probably to the room number written on the key- and the Sokka had gone deathly quiet.
“. . . Hi,” Zuko said after a moment.
“Hi.”
Another beat of silence.
“I’m Zuko.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
Zuko chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make Sokka send the police after him. “You’re, uh, Aang’s friend, I’m guessing?”
“Yes,” was the cold, clipped response.
Well. This clearly wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’m not going to hurt him,” Zuko blurted out. “Or kidnap him or throw him into a ditch, or something like that.” He heard Sokka inhale, and he scrambled to find something to say before someone started a yelling match. “I just felt like helping him.”
“. . . It’s the eyes, isn’t it?” Sokka said after a moment.
“Huh?” Zuko responded, ever the intellectual.
“The puppy dog eyes.” He huffed, sending static through the speakers, and Zuko swore he heard a little humor behind his voice. “It’s why he gets away with so much.”
“I guess.” Zuko hadn’t exactly spent too much time staring into Aang’s eyes. They were nice though, sure. Big, grey, and crinkled at the edges when he laughed, always somehow filled with warmth and kindness and- why was he thinking like this.
“Well, I guess I can’t really stop you,” Sokka continued, oblivious to Zuko suddenly nearing a mental breakdown. “And I should probably thank you for doing this. But if you even think about hurting my friend-“
“You‘ll kill me?” Zuko finished for him. Growing up with Azula, he had a certain skill for detecting death threats. Probably one of the reasons why Iroh had spent years trying to get him a therapy appointment.
Sokka laughed, and the sound was both piercing and friendly all at once. “Trust me, my sister will get to you before I ever do. But I’ll help her hide the body.”
“Zuko?”
He groaned in response. It was late now- too late to bother opening his eyes, and both he and Aang had settled into their creaky motel beds.
“Thanks for picking me up, instead of just driving by.”
“Hmmph.”
“It means a lot. You’re really kind, you know.”
Zuko kept still, feigning sleep.
He woke up to a headache and someone hovering in front of his face.
Zuko screamed so loud his voice cracked, and Aang jumped back. “Sorry, sorry!” He stumbled backward into the wall, waving his hands around. “It’s just- you kept talking in your sleep and you sounded sort of upset and I didn’t know if you were having a nightmare and I. . .”
As he trailed off, Zuko slid out of the bed, running his fingers through his hair. Nightmares weren’t exactly uncommon for him, though he preferred to avoid discussing the topic. Iroh was the only one who knew the full extent of them, who knew how often he woke up with his hand clutching the side of his face, nails digging into scar tissue.
“I’m sorry,” Aang said, and from the way his brows furrowed and a frown stretched across his face, Zuko knew that he meant it.
He opened the duffle bag laying next to the bed and pulled out a change of clothes. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Oh- okay!” The smile Aang gave him was uneasy. “I’ll grab some breakfast, do you want me to-“
“Just wait for me by the van when you’re done,” Zuko called over his shoulder as he stepped into the cramped bathroom.
He switched on the shower; shoving the hot water knob all the way to the right. He turned, staring at his reflection that stood in a penny-sized mirror. His hair was tangled and sticking out all over the place, his skin was paler than usual, and there was a sort of wild look in his eyes as if the boy staring back at him was ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.
Zuko sighed. One day left alone, and he was even worse than a mess. What would Uncle think of me?
What would Father?
As much as he wanted to sit and brood under the sputtering shower spray forever, the hot water ran out pretty quickly, and he was shivering by the time he stepped out and reached for his towel. He dried off as fast as he could, ran a hand through his hair again in replacement of a comb, threw on his clothes, and ran out the door.
As Zuko had told him to, Aang was sitting on the curb next to the van, sipping on something in a cardboard cup. He hopped up once Zuko unlocked the van, which is when he noticed the doughnut in Aang’s hand, wrapped in a napkin.
“I know that you told me to just go to the van,” Aang said, holding out the glazed sugar bomb, “but I felt bad leaving without getting anything for you.”
“. . .Thanks,” Zuko mumbled, taking the donut as he opened the van door.
He took a bite of it once they were both buckled in. “Is that coffee?” he asked Aang, starting up the engine and quickly finishing off the donut. He hated eating while driving; another thing Iroh had instilled in him.
Aang wrinkled his nose in what looked like disgust. “No way, I hate that stuff. I got some tea instead.” He tipped the cup towards Zuko. “Want some?”
Zuko stared at him for a moment before shaking his head and chuckling under his breath, pulling the van out of the parking lot. “You sort of remind me of my uncle, you know.”
Aang tilted his head to the side. “Iroh?”
“Yeah.”
“He sounds nice.” As they turned down the road, the sunlight shot in through the window and caught on Aang’s eyelashes, turning them gold.
Stop looking so close. Zuko snapped his head back to face the road so fast something in his neck popped worryingly.
“Can you tell me about him?” Aang asked.
That made Zuko pause- because where could he even start?. Maybe he would never admit it out loud (or even to himself), but Iroh was really the only family he had. He might have been the only friend, too, because these days he didn’t talk to Ty Lee enough and argued with Mai too often to consider either of them more than intimate acquaintances.
College had been a bust, something he had pushed through for barely a semester before taking a step back and realizing that he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, so he hadn’t exactly been able to form a social group there.
According to the overly detailed letter from his father, who apparently didn’t consider a simple email being worthy enough to deliver his wrath, he was an ungrateful, nineteen-year-old washout.
Iroh had told him, gently, over a cup of jasmine tea, that he simply hadn’t yet found the path he was meant to walk on.
“He is nice,” Zuko said, voice low. Aang leaned closer, probably so that he could hear him over the growing roar of the wheels. “He’s the nicest person I know.”
Aang nodded, a clear signal to keep talking.
So he did.
Zuko talked, words spilling out from his mouth like yarn from its spool. He strayed away from anything that fell too deep, but otherwise, his jaw loosened up more than it had in months. Books they thought were overrated, movies they thought weren’t rated enough, a heated debate on coffee versus tea- Aang had a certain gravity that pulled him in, almost dangerously close, and there were times he felt he had to draw back or burn up in his atmosphere.
The time crawled and flew by at the same time. Over the next few days, as the grassy plains outside slowly became dotted with trees before bursting out into forests, Zuko and Aang put together their own little world that only existed inside the van and wherever they stopped for the night. They soon fell into a makeshift schedule- Aang softly shaking him awake early in the morning, spending a quiet breakfast together on the curb of their motel from the night before, and then spending the rest of the day driving, swapping stories, and occasionally stopping for a break or meal before reaching another motel, where Aang’s hushed voice would be the last thing Zuko heard in his ears before he drifted off to sleep.
Aang had offered to take over driving for a few hours, but Zuko had almost immediately shut him down.
“Do you have your license?” he had asked. “Your permit, at least?”
Aang had just sat there, frozen, before giving Zuko that crooked grin that he now recognized as a warning for mischief. And that was the end of that.
Sometimes Aang stepped a little too close and Zuko snapped at him, only to regret it, and sometimes Zuko asked a question that sent Aang into a heavy silence. They both held their secrets close to their chest, but everything else was fair game, and after a lifetime of closed doors and padding quietly through shadowed hallways, it was a breath of fresh air that Zuko never knew he needed.
He didn’t think about the dwindling miles that were left until they reached Aang’s destination. He didn’t think about the likelihood that they would never see each other again after two more days.
He couldn’t.
“Do you see that?” Aang asked, pressing his face against the window with a sort of childlike glee that Zuko had realized a few thousand miles ago sent off anxious flutters in his stomach.
“What?” Zuko peered out the windshield, view obscured by a nearly starless night, and pushed the thought away. It was just another thing he was going to have to ignore, all the little details about Aang that he had begun to collect against his own will. That, and the way each and every one of them made him want to either hide his face like a shy schoolboy or slam his head into the dashboard for a second time that week.
“Wait, pull over!” Aang’s smile managed to outshine the van’s headlights, so really, who was Zuko to refuse?
After glancing at the mirrors- for no reason, really, because the last car they had passed had been nearly an hour ago- Zuko slowly pushed on the brakes and parked the van by the side of the road.
“What is it?” he asked, but instead of answering, Aang unbuckled and hopped out of his seat, running over to Zuko’s side and throwing open the door. “What-“
Aang stuck his hand out, palm up. “Do you trust me?” He leaned down a little, voice dropping, and thank god the forest road had no streetlights, or else Zuko would have to explain away the blush that bloomed across his face.
“Uh.” He blinked up at him.
Aang laughed, and he grabbed one of Zuko’s hands. “It’s a Aladdin reference, now come on!” He threaded their fingers together and yanked him out of his seat, and Zuko swore he felt his heart stop and start up again as Aang led him over to the grassy area that stood before the swaths of trees.
“What is it?” Zuko repeated, looking around and trying to act like he wasn’t a few seconds away from a stroke.
“Shhh.” In the near pitch-black darkness, Zuko could barely make out Aang lifting a finger to his lips and then letting go of his hand as he crouched down, seeming to search through the tall strands of grass for something.
Zuko was about to stick his hands into his pockets, definitely not already missing the pressure of Aang’s palm against his, not a chance, when Aang gasped softly. The grass rustled as he hopped back up, stepping towards Zuko with his hands cupped together. “Okay, give me your hands.”
“Why?” Zuko asked, already doing so.
Aang just flashed him another beaming smile before reaching out, sandwiching his hands right between Zuko’s, and slowly opened them up.
The firefly that had been trapped inside buzzed its wings, and it began to glow with a soft yellow light as it flew out, probably celebrating its freedom.
Aang laughed, freely, with his head thrown back and shoulders shaking up and down, as more and more fireflies popped out of the grass and flew around them, lights blinking off and on in a silent symphony.
If Zuko had any sure idea of what love was, he thought this might have been it.
But before he had the chance to drink in the sight in front of him, Aang turned and dashed further out into the grass, leaving a path of startled fireflies in his wake.
“What, too old for playing tag?” he called out.
“Yes.” Zuko rolled his eyes as he set off on a run after Aang, whose giggles somehow grew even louder as he twisted and turned through the grass, seemingly on a personal mission to piss off every bug in the area.
And if Zuko had happened to feel his lips pull into a smile, well, it was too dark for anyone to see him anyway.
How long they ran around, he had no idea, just that for the first time in years he felt like an actual boy, not just a kid who was still feeling the growing pains from saying goodbye to his childhood too fast.
After they both tired themselves out, they flopped down onto the shortest patch of grass they could find, staring up at the stars scattered above them.
“You know,” Zuko said as his chest rose and fell rapidly, “I haven’t done something like that in a long time.” He couldn’t help but laugh, despite how breathless he still was.
The grass around them shifted as Aang turned his head towards him. “You have a really nice laugh.”
Which was, of course, the perfect time for Zuko to choke on his own laughter.
“Oh, geez, are you okay?” Aang sat up and scooted over towards him, clearly worried.
Zuko waved him off, straightening up as well. “Fine,” he wheezed out after a good minute. “I’m just- people don’t say stuff like that about me.” He stared down at his feet, trying to will away the burning in his ears.
“They should.”
“Well, they don’t.”
He grimaced. He hadn’t meant for it to come out that sharply, but the words slipped against his tongue before he could even think about them. Like they always did.
“. . . Zuko,” Aang said, his voice softer than he had ever heard it, “we’re friends, aren’t we?”
It took him a moment, but Zuko nodded. “Yes.” It was the truth, but it somehow still burned against his throat.
“So you don’t have to be scared of me, you know.”
Zuko clenched his jaw, teeth gritting together. “I’m not scared of you.” I’m just a little terrified.
Aang didn’t say anything else. Instead, he slowly slid his hand over and laid it on top of Zuko’s.
He stayed still as Aang interlaced their fingers once again. It was almost like having a cat on him; not willing to risk moving and making them leave.
They sat like that, holding the stars in their eyes, skin barely brushing against each other in the grass, for much longer than Zuko would ever admit.
“I’m not scared of you,” Zuko said again after a while.
“Then what are you scared of?” Aang kept his eyes upon the sky as if they held the answers to what was going on.
“Nothing!” Zuko snatched his hand back, which finally caught Aang’s attention. “I don’t know, maybe you’re the one who’s scared-”
“ ’m not the one who gets angry whenever someone gets too close.” Aang began to raise his voice, and it was much harsher than his usual chirp. “I don’t just shut everything down whenever you ask the wrong question-”
“No, actually, you do,” Zuko stood up, digging around in his pockets for the van’s key. “At least I actually react to things, but you just pretend like the problem doesn’t exist, like you’re some little kid!”
That seemed to be what did it for Aang; he stood up and stomped towards the van, not even sparing Zuko a backward glance. He threw open the back door and jumped inside before slamming it behind him.
“What are you doing?” Zuko hissed as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Sitting in the back.” Aang sat, stomach down, with his face pressed against the back of the seat, muffling his voice. “Like a little kid, remember?”
Zuko muttered profanities to himself as he started up the van, pulling back out into the road. “Very mature, you know.”
He sat with his eyes trained on the rearview mirror, waiting for Aang to get the jump on the last word.
It never came.
Aang’s constant chatter was almost like a whole other person on its own. Zuko realized that the next day after they had driven in almost complete silence for an hour, and he felt as if an ocean had suddenly opened up between them.
The ride to their next motel the previous night had been more than a little awkward, and when Zuko woke up that morning after the first nightmare he had since a few days prior, the room was completely empty.
He had been through couples fights before. It’s just that every other time, he had been in an actual relationship. (Namely, one relationship, with a girl who had threatened him with a knife the last time they had spoken.) Not whatever the hell he now had with Aang.
Zuko was about to switch on the radio to try and combat the awful silence when Aang turned his head to him, expression stone-like.
“One question,” he said, and Zuko damn near wanted to collapse at the sound of his voice. “We both know we’re hiding something, and after tomorrow we might never see each other again, so this is the time to spill. Go.”
Zuko swallowed heavily, beginning to cherry-pick just how much of a Tragic Backstory™ he was willing to give out, and then realized that Aang was staring at him expectantly.
He wanted him to go first.
“Why are you moving to Amrita Island?” Zuko asked, figuring that it was just better to rip off that bandaid. “I know it’s where your friends’ father is, but I don’t. . .”
Aang closed his eyes and settled himself into his chair. “Sokka and Katara are moving there because they were raised by their grandmother since their dad moved around a lot from his job, and he just now got to settle down. Gran-Gran, Miss Kanna, she-“ Aang’s voice broke off a little, and Zuko stared straight ahead, not willing to see if the pain he heard was reflected in the boy’s eyes. “She took me in after my grandfather was killed.”
This time Zuko couldn’t help as his head whipped around to look at Aang, which meant he watched his face twist with alarm as he pointed out the window shield. “Car, car!”
“What- oh shit!” Zuko slammed the steering wheel to the side, swerving off the road just before a car going way past the speed limit shot into the space they had just been occupying.
“WATCH THE ROAD!” Zuko shouted, slamming on the horn, even as he braked on the van and the offending car disappeared from sight. “ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL SOMEBODY, YOU ASSHOLE?!”
He situated the van on the side of the road, set it into park, and turned back to Aang, who was staring at him with wide eyes. “What?” he snapped, and then winced. “Sorry. I mean-”
He was cut off by an outburst of giggles. Aang slapped a hand over his mouth, but he still doubled over with laughter.
Zuko sat and watched him, a little starstruck, and more than a little lost.
“It’s- it’s fine, ha .” Aang sat back up, wheezing a bit, and wiped a tear from his eye. “I thought that you were this shy, quiet person with some anger issues the whole time and you just totally flipped out on that driver -”
“Well, the driver deserved it,” Zuko mumbled, which sent Aang off on another laughing fit.
He wasn’t sure if he appreciated it being at his expense, but he was so relieved to finally see Aang smile again, he wasn’t sure if he cared.
“If you thought that was bad,” he added once Aang calmed down, “you should have seen me when I was younger. I’m honestly surprised Uncle never bought any earplugs because of me. Or a hearing aid.”
Though now that he was really thinking about it, he was grateful that Aang had never come into contact with a sixteen-year-old Zuko. No doubt he would have scared him off.
“Yeah, I bet.” Aang sighed, and his smile began to fade away. “I was the one who found him. Gyatso.”
“Gyatso?” Zuko unbuckled his seat belt so that he could turn and fully face Aang.
“Well- I always just called him my grandfather, but we were never actually related. He’s just the one who took me in after my parents died, and it felt weird calling him by his first name but he never wanted me to feel like he was trying to replace my parents, so.” Aang shrugged, raw grief and nostalgia tugging at the corners of his eyes. “It’s funny though. They died when I was little, so it’s not like I had anyone for him to replace.”
Zuko was stuck between trying to give out some form of sympathy or keeping his mouth shut until Aang was finished talking. He understood- of course, he did, considering how even with fewer years Iroh had proved himself a better father than Ozai could ever even try to be.
“I get it,” was all he said. The last thing he wanted was to trip some sort of wire and upset Aang again.
Lucky for him, all Aang did was nod before continuing. “It was some sort of break-in or something like that. He was at home alone because I was out playing soccer- ” He drew in a shaky breath. “I used to be so good at it, you know. Soccer. But I haven’t been able to play since. . . Gyatso died.” The last two words seemed a struggle, but once they were out Aang’s shoulders dropped, suddenly free of holding up a heavy burden.
Zuko’s fingers dug into his palms, not quite sure what to do. What could he do? What the hell could he say that Aang hadn’t heard a thousand times before?
“I don’t know what Gyatso was like,” he started, slowly, “but I know that he wouldn’t have wanted you to see him die. And I know he wouldn’t have wanted you to die trying to fight off his killers,” he rushed in once Aang opened his mouth. “And. . . I know that he loved you and that you’ll play soccer again one day.”
Aang stared up at him with wide, teary grey eyes. (Definitely puppy dog eyes, dammit, Sokka.) He sniffled and rubbed at them with his sleeve. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He dropped his arm, and though his eyes were still slightly red and puffy, they were a little less clouded now. “Well, I know now, I guess. Thank you.”
Zuko nodded, still quite at loss for what to say.
“. . . You don’t have to answer,” Aang said, head tilted down, “but h-”
“The scar.” He already knew. He always knew when someone was about to ask.
“Only if you feel like it.”
“I know.” Zuko sat back in his seat. No, he didn’t feel like talking about his scar or who had given it to him, but he never did in the first place. And maybe it wasn’t exactly the most healthy choice of thinking, but he felt like he owed Aang a little honesty after holding him at arm’s length while driving him across the country. “My father is the head of the family business. It’s really the only thing he cares about, so when he invited me to sit in during a boardroom meeting, I was excited. I mean, how could I not be?”
Aang was back to his wide-eyed stare. Zuko wondered if he had looked like that, just a few minutes ago.
“I didn’t really understand a lot of it, to be honest. My sister was always better at business talk than I was.” And diplomacy, and memorizing the names of stockholders and business partners, and just about every other thing they studied during their time together, meaning that the question of the heir to the company was never a real one. “But then one of the board members started talking about budget cuts and docking the employee’s pay and-” Zuko paused, letting himself catch his breath. He could still remember the look on the whole room’s face when he stood, opening his mouth for the first (and last) time in such a large presence. “I tried to tell them not to, and Father took it. . . personally.”
Something cold hardened inside Aang’s eyes and Zuko watched as his knuckles turned white.
“He had some close friends and a few good donations at the hospital, so no one said anything. He wasn’t there when I woke up, though, and he never came by. I haven’t seen him since he burned me, actually. Iroh took me to his home once I had recovered enough. And I’m lucky he did.”
“Is your dad in Massachusetts?” Aang asked, his voice a dangerous calm.
“Uhm.” Whatever reaction Zuko had been expecting, this wasn’t it. “Not that I’m aware, no.”
“Good. If he was, I’d kick him out into the ocean."
After Aang had dried the rest of his tears, they were back on the road, and finally talking again. Considering how many conversations he had tried to get out of over the years, Zuko couldn’t help but be a little surprised by how much he had missed the sound of Aang’s voice. Or maybe he had just missed Aang.
Either way, he now felt like a permanent fixture in Zuko’s life. He didn’t want to imagine looking over to the passenger’s seat in a couple days and finding it empty.
By now the sun had begun to lower, streaking the sky with all sorts of pinks and purples. Zuko pulled the van into the parking lot of the first fast-food restaurant that caught his eye, and his stomach growled in response.
“Wait,” Aang said before he could open the door. “I want to talk to you about something.”
“Okay?” Zuko leaned back, letting go of the handle. “Is something wrong?”
“Uh, yes? I mean, no, but kind of?”
“That doesn’t really answer my question.”
For once, Aang was completely silent as he avoided Zuko’s eyes. “Last night, you said we were friends.”
Zuko nodded, pushing back all the warm, fuzzy feelings that came along with the memory of the previous night.
“I’m happy you’re my friend, I am, I just-” Aang cut himself off with a sigh. “Sokka said this would be easier,” he grumbled.
“Sokka?” Zuko had talked to him a couple more times on the phone, along with his sister, Katara, but he couldn’t really imagine what they had to do with their argument. Unless. . . “He’s not serious about killing me and hiding the body, right? Because I have a friend who can-”
“Ikindoflikeyouwaymorethanafriendpleasedon’thatemeisthatokay?” Aang sputtered out.
“Huh?” Zuko frowned at him. “Can you say that slower?”
Aang took in a deep breath and dropped his head in his hands, mumbling some more nonsense.
Zuko rolled his eyes and leaned forward. As interested as he had become in anything Aang had to say, he had been driving for five hours and he was hungry. “Can you just-”
Aang lifted his head up and pressed their lips together.
For a mortifying two and a half seconds, Zuko sat there with his eyes wide open, completely frozen. But then they fluttered closed and he leaned in deeper, his hand coming to the back of Aang’s neck.
He was kissing Aang.
He felt Aang wrap his arms around his waist, and that’s when it fully hit him.
Aang was kissing him.
Zuko pulled back, his chest seizing with either shock or fear, he wasn’t quite sure. “Oh,” was all his brain could come up with, ever so helpful.
“Sokka said that kissing someone was quicker than straight up confessing to them.” Aang rubbed the back of his head, cheeks flushed as he put on that crooked grin of his. It was a thought that Zuko would take to his grave, but a blush was a good look on him.
“You certainly got to the point.” Zuko took a moment to try and wrangle the absolute mess that his mind had become.
The point was, apparently, that Aang liked him back. And he was sticking with high school terminology for now, because the big L word was something a little too permanent for their current situation.
Aang, for some reason Zuko couldn’t comprehend, looked at him and saw someone worth holding hands and kissing and running around chasing fireflies with.
The thought had him grinning like an idiot.
“If you don’t like me that way, that’s okay, you know.” Aang had his eyes cast down to the floor of the van. “And you shouldn’t feel obligated to, I just had to-“
“Aang.”
Once he looked up again, Zuko pulled him closer for a proper first kiss.
He heard Aang inhale sharply before he titled his head to the side, once again putting his arms around Zuko’s waist. They pulled apart for a moment before leaning in again, too caught in each other’s orbit to stay away for long.
Zuko felt himself being tugged over the central console, and he was ready to climb over it until his stomach roared with a particular vengeance.
They broke apart again, staring at each other for a moment before Aang burst out into a bout of laughter. “Maybe,” he gasped between giggles, “let’s talk about this inside.”
“Uh, right. Talk.” Zuko had to practically hold himself back from taking Aang by the lips as he hopped out of the van, but after they were both outside Aang grabbed his hand again, so maybe it was worth it.
Once they were settled down into a cramped booth with food placed in front of them, they both dug in. Apparently, a small emotional feud followed by the beginnings of a make-out session worked up an appetite.
“So,” Aang said as he swallowed a handful of fries. “I had this idea-“
“You’re not moving to New York,” Zuko cut him off.
“I wasn’t going to say that!” But then Aang frowned with an almost pout that did horrible things to Zuko’s heart rate, which probably meant that the thought hadn’t been far from his mind. “But we can text and video chat. And Massachusetts isn’t that far anyways, so we can probably visit all the time if we want.” He stared down at his food and sighed. “I know that it isn’t perfect, but-“
“Do you really want that?” Zuko asked before he could stop himself.
Aang shot him an incredulous look. “It’s my idea? Of course I do.”
“No, I mean-“ Zuko glanced at his reflection in the napkin holder, warped by the dirty and dented metal. “Are you sure you want me?”
His eyes were pulled away as Aang leaned forward and took Zuko’s hands in his. “Zuko. I know that I’m a friendly guy, but I don’t usually make out with people I met five days ago.”
Zuko watched as the server who had been standing off to the side, clearly acting like they weren’t eavesdropping, dropped their jaw to the floor.
“It won’t be easy,” Aang went on, oblivious to their audience, “but, you know, Gyatso used to tell me that nothing worth working for is ever supposed to be easy. And you’re worth it. We both are. I promise.”
“. . . Oh.” Zuko blinked, trying to swallow back the sudden lump in his throat. “I really don’t deserve you.”
“Hey, don’t say that.” Aang leaned forward to give him a small peck on the lips and sat back down in his seat. “You deserve good things. And look at me, I’m great!”
Zuko laughed, shaking his head, as the server wiped at their eyes.
“Zuko.”
He startled awake, heart pounding, much like he had a few days ago. Except right now it was still dark outside, they were somewhere along the border of Indiana, and Aang was standing a little ways away this time.
“You were having a nightmare,” Aang whispered, and Zuko could make out the way his brow furrowed, even in the sparse lighting. “It sounded bad.”
It had been awful, to be exact. Zuko rubbed his forehead, which is when he noticed his hands were trembling.
Really awful, apparently.
Aang took a few steps closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Zuko didn’t say anything. Instead, he sat up and wrapped his arms around Aang, laying his head on his chest.
“Hey.” He felt limber fingers gently carding through his hair. “You don’t have to talk, but do you want me to stay?”
He nodded as well as he could with his nose buried in Aang’s shirt.
Zuko shifted to the side as Aang crawled into the bed, slipping under the covers. Zuko threw his arms around him again, and he settled into them just right, as if he was always meant to be there.
“You can go back to sleep.” Aang brushed a few stray locks out of Zuko’s face. “You’re safe.”
And Zuko knew that. But he still fought to keep his eyes open, even as Aang drifted off into sleep, because he knew that when he opened them next might be the last time he ever woke up to Aang in his arms.
Traffic had, unfortunately, been very light during their last drive together.
“How did you end up left behind, anyways?” Zuko asked, trying his best to pretend that he couldn’t see the docks in the distance.
“Well.” Aang was staring out the window, voice dreary, matching the clouds above their heads. “I lost my plane ticket.”
“Really?” Zuko did his best to stifle a laugh.
“Yeah, actually. But I’m so glad I did.”
Zuko didn’t even bother attempting to lighten the mood after that.
They pulled into the parking area for the docks, and if Zuko squinted, he could see the boat in the distance drawing closer and closer along the water.
“That’s my ferry.” Aang finally turned back towards him, still smiling, even though his eyes were shining with unshed tears. “This is your last chance to drive off and kidnap me.”
“Noted.” Zuko reached into the back of the van, grabbed Aang’s bag, and stepped outside.
He leaned against the hood of the vehicle, and after a few moments, Aang followed. “That’s no fair,” he whined, taking back the bag.
Zuko shrugged. “Well, the van is locked now. Nothing we can do, I guess.”
“I could kidnap you-“
“No.”
Aang huffed, crossing his arms. “Worth a shot.”
They stood there, breathing in the salty air as the ferry made its way across the water.
“Here.” Aang handed him a scrap of paper, and when Zuko took it, he read over the phone number and email address scribbled on in chicken scratch.
“Your handwriting is awful.” Zuko carefully folded it up and placed it into his pocket. Like hell he was going to risk losing it.
Aang grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze, which Zuko returned. He was going to miss the feeling of fingers slipping in between his. He was going to miss looking over and finding Aang trying not to doze off in the passenger seat. He was going to miss the hours spent laughing and talking and trying to get a glance at the other without getting caught.
He was going to miss Aang.
“Don’t say goodbye, okay?” Aang faced him head-on, though Zuko knew that they could both see the boat out of the corners of their eyes. “Because this isn’t one. We’ll be back together so quickly it’ll be like we never left.”
Zuko was out of words, out of time, out of everything but a breath in his lungs and a racing pulse, so he pulled Aang in for a kiss.
Aang gripped onto his shirt with a near desperation that Zuko felt against his lips. So he pulled back, because any longer and they might just never leave.
“I‘ll see you later,” he murmured against Aang’s cheek, which he placed another quick kiss against.
“Hey, no fair!” Aang’s laughter was broken up by the beginnings of a sob. “I wanted to say it first!”
“Too late.” Zuko took one more moment to gaze at him, doing what he could to commit everything to memory before stepping back.
The ferry landed at the dock, giving out a high pitched whistle as its passengers filed out.
“Later.” Aang began to walk backward, refusing to look away from Zuko’s face. “I promise.”
“Don’t miss your ride!” Zuko shouted over the growing distance between them. “And watch where you're going!”
Aang shook his head, giving him one more grin that he had become so fond of before turning around, dashing off to the boarding line.
For a moment Zuko stayed planted where he was, hoping that maybe the ferry’s engine would suddenly bust, or that they would be at full capacity, or that Aang would lose his mind and come running back and they could spend another day bickering about what to do.
Instead, he watched as Aang stepped onto the boat, and was quickly lost in the crowd.
So Zuko did the only thing he could do now. He got into the van, started up the engine, and drove away, holding back the stinging behind his eyes as the boarding docks faded away behind him, and the skylines of New York drew closer.
The lot was one of those where there was a place for a shop downstairs and a living space up above, so Zuko had to go in through the back to reach their new apartment.
It was a nice place. Smaller than their last house, of course, but it was big enough for them to both have their own space, and they had a nice view of the streets below.
Zuko didn’t really miss the house they had left behind, anyway. It had never really felt like home. That honor only belonged to two people; one who had to be somewhere on Amrita Island by now, and the other was probably lost among their boxed-filled apartment.
“Uncle?” he called out, dropping his duffle bag on the ground.
“Zuko?” he heard someone respond, and he turned just in time to watch his uncle emerge from the other end of the hallway.
Iroh beamed at him, and though his chest was still aching, Zuko already felt himself unwind from the tense knot he had wound himself into during the final stretch of the drive.
They met each other in the middle of the hall, and Iroh hugged him with rib-cracking strength, even though Zuko now stood nearly a foot above him.
“Hi Uncle,” Zuko croaked out, and he patted Iroh on the back.
“I’m so happy you finally made it!” Iroh stepped back and clapped his hands on Zuko’s arms. “There’s so much work to do around the shop, and I-“ He paused, staring up at Zuko, and his expression suddenly grew serious. “Though something tells me I should ask how your trip went first.”
Zuko half-smiled, half-grimaced. It was impossible to hide anything from his uncle, so there was no use in even trying.
“I met someone,” he started, and Iroh’s eyebrows shot up his forehead.
“Well, this is no place to discuss such things.” He ushered Zuko further into the apartment, grabbing the bag on the way, all while ignoring his nephew’s protests. “You, sit,” he said, gesturing towards the standing dinner tray and folding chairs that had been set up in what looked like the kitchen. “I’ll make some tea, and then we’ll talk.”
Zuko just nodded, easing himself into the wobbly chair. When it came to his uncle and tea, resistance was futile.
Iroh hummed a familiar tune to himself as he set up the tea kettle on the stove. It set up a strange ambiance, with the air conditioner running in the background and all the noise from the streets below, but Zuko could probably find himself getting used to it.
“Here.” Before he knew it, a steaming mug was placed in front of his face as Iroh sat down in the other chair. “Now, you didn’t tell me much besides those messages you sent when you crossed over into another state,” he said, and Zuko could have sworn that he sounded a little scornful, “so I’m asking for full detail here.”
Well. Full detail he had asked for, so full detail he would receive.
Zuko went over all that had happened during the past week (though it had felt more like a lifetime), only stopping when Iroh would refill their tea. When he described picking up Aang, Iroh made a noise of approval and patted his hand, which made him sit up a little straighter.
He couldn’t help but go a little fuzzy on the story telling when they got to the later parts of the road trip. It wasn’t that Iroh would judge him- he would never do that about anything, definitely not on who Zuko happened to fall for- but talking to the man who had basically raised him about a sudden, whirlwind romance was just weird.
Still, he should have known better than trying to keep anything from Iroh.
“This boy,” his uncle said once Zuko began to talk about the docks, taking a sip of tea. “Aang, you said his name was?”
Zuko nodded, feeling himself tense up. “Yes, Uncle.”
“You seem awfully close to him.”
“. . . I guess.”
Iroh sent him a sharp grin over the brim of his mug. “If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly was the relationship between you two? I feel like I may have missed out on some details.”
Zuko stared down at the reflection in his lukewarm tea. “I don’t really know,” he said, and something in his stomach twisted once he realized it was true.
“Uncle,” he asked, “how do I know if I love somebody?”
From the look on Iroh’s face, slight shock widening his eyes, that wasn’t the question he had been expecting. But then he gave a long, gentle sigh, and smiled at Zuko with so much affection it nearly knocked him off of his chair.
“If you have to ask, I think you already know the answer.”
9:08
Hey
Zuko here
9:09
ZUKKKOOOO
ITS SOKKA
I STOLE AANGS PHONE
9:09
Oh
Hi
Can you give it back
9:10
okay wow he lied you are not funny
9:10
???????
9:11
I’m so sorry about that!!
This is Aang :D
9:13
Hey
9:13
Hey!!
Want to video chat?
9:14
Sure
Even if he hadn’t seen her face dozens of times behind a screen, Zuko would have no doubt been able to pick Katara out of a crowd. She stood with a certain firmness as if the whole world was an ocean meant to bend around her.
Though knowing what she looked like, even if that image was put together by pixels, was certainly helpful when it came to meeting her in the middle of an airport.
“This is it,” she announced, spreading her arms out as she strode towards him. “This is officially the best birthday gift ever. Aang is going to love it.”
Zuko just chuckled as he was pulled into a hug. “Don’t you mean me?”
He had been doing a lot more of that lately; laughing, smiling, actually living instead of simply doing through the motions of everyday life. It was amazing what a difference a new job and a couple of friends made.
The Jasmine Dragon had only been open for a few months, but business was already booming. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe his uncle really did make the best tea in the world, or maybe it was just plain luck. Either way, during the weekends customers would wander into the shop like moths to a flame, so Zuko had been tempted to decline Katara and Sokka’s offer and stayed at home to help.
But once he had heard about their idea (most likely tipped off by Sokka), Iroh was practically shoving him out the door.
“Jet and Longshot are more than enough help,” he had insisted, dropping a bag into Zuko’s arms. “I appreciate your dedication to the business, but I’m not about to let it stand in the way of young love!”
So here he was, being led out of the airport by Katara, on his way to meet his boyfriend for a second time.
Sokka was already standing outside the taxi, waiting by the curb, so luckily Zuko was able to brace himself as his friend took off at a run and practically tackled him into a hug.
“You people are very affectionate,” he mumbled into Sokka’s sweater.
“Well, hello!” Sokka stepped back, showing off the goofy grin Zuko was now so familiar with. “I’ve been waiting for this for, I don’t know, forever?”
“Three months,” Katara said, throwing Zuko’s bag into the trunk.
Sokka nodded, seemingly unabashed by the correction. “Yeah, three months.”
Three months. It was a little unbelievable, to think that it had been that long since Zuko left Aang on the ferry. It was even harder to think that Aang had still decided to stick with their long-distance relationship, as much as he tried to get Zuko to believe it.
It was just one of many things they were working on, but they had all the time in the world to figure their lives out.
The car ride to the docks flew by, all three of them squished into the back seat as they chattered, most likely tiring out their poor driver. The three of them talked nearly every day, sure, but it was different for Zuko to see them face to face. It was different when he could knock against their shoulders during a turn or Katara could grab his hand as she pointed out the window or when Sokka could pull a joke out of thin air. By the time they made it to the water, the sides of Zuko’s face hurt from grinning too much.
He stood out on the gravel, bag hanging from his shoulders as Sokka paid the driver. (He had tried his best to offer up his own money, and had gotten a double sibling-enforced No!)
The ferry stood on the water, piling up its next group of passengers. “My old enemy,” he mumbled to himself. Except today it was becoming an unfortunate ally.
“Come on!” Katara said as she bolted past him, towards the boat, with Sokka following close behind.
Zuko sighed and dashed over, barely stopping to give the man by the gate his ticket before running over to where his friends stood by the railing, feet thumping against the wood.
“Nervous?” Katara asked. She was pulling at her hair as it whipped around in the wind, tying it up.
“Oh please, he has nothing to worry about.” Sokka threw an arm over Zuko’s shoulder, giving him a good shake. “He’s got me giving him advice!”
“I hate you,” Zuko said in the deadpan he often used when talking to Sokka, and both of the siblings burst out into laughter.
He was worried, because there were just too many things that could go wrong right now, including but not limited to: getting to their house and finding Aang gone, getting there but Aang being too busy to bother talking to him, somehow managing to fall into the water and showing up completely soaked. The list went on and on.
But there was also a spark of excitement settling into his nerves, which kept Zuko from turning tail and swimming back to the docks.
As if they had somehow sensed his anxiety, Katara and Sokka held up the conversation, thankfully never commenting on how Zuko grew quieter. Their house was rather close to the shore, so it was a short walk up to the front porch, which is where they left Zuko before heading inside.
“We’ll go get him,” Sokka called over his shoulder as he hopped up the steps and into the house.
“And don’t worry, you’ll be fine!” Katara whispered-shouted just before the door shut behind them.
Zuko took in deep, shaking breaths. Aang had meant it when he said that they would talk as often as they could- they always did their best to video chat at least once a week, and they called and texted twice as much. Even though they had never truly met, Iroh considered him another fixture to the household, and more than once Zuko had caught them talking together when he had left during a call to take care of something in the shop.
On one hand, it warmed his heart to see his two favorite people getting along so well. On the other, they both had too many Embarrassing Zuko Stories on their hands to be allowed near each other.
“What do you mean Appa got out?” he heard a voice shout from behind the door.
Zuko gripped the straps of his bag, taking one last moment to try and steady his heartbeat. Here goes nothing.
Aang was standing right in the center of the doorway when he threw open the door, so Zuko had the perfect view of his mouth falling open in shock.
Over his shoulder, Zuko caught a glimpse of Katara grabbing Sokka, who was doing a horrible job of subtly videoing them on his phone, and dragging him out of the room.
“Happy birthday?” Zuko said, and Aang’s eyes widened at the sound of his voice. "Well, it's later, so-"
Aang practically flew down the steps and landed straight into Zuko’s arms, which thankfully had bulked up a bit after so much heavy lifting around the shop. They spun around for a moment before Zuko set Aang down, holding him in his arms, tight as he could.
He could spend forever in that one moment, and he would be happy for the rest of his days.
“I knew it,” Aang said. He leaned back and tilted his head up, smiling wider than Zuko had ever seen him. “I knew they weren’t just going out to buy cat food. We don’t even have a cat.”
“Yeah, they’re bad liars.” Zuko put his hands up to Aang’s face, and he couldn’t help but give a trembling laugh. “I missed you. I missed you so much.”
“Me too.” Aang leaned into his touch, looking like someone who had found all the treasure in the world. “And I love you.”
The words sent waves of electricity through his skin. “I love you too,” Zuko breathed out.
When Aang reached up and kissed him, he didn't bother trying stop himself from smiling against his lips.