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Jet’s hands were always cold. Like the ice water that Zuko had plunged into all those months ago at the northern water tribe. It makes his blood freeze, his heart seize. And he wonders, when it’s gone, if he’ll remember how to even breathe.
Jet touches him, and it’s so different from the searing pain he felt when his father scarred him. The raw flesh beneath Jet’s fingers starts to tingle, and for a moment he’s worried he’ll have to battle frostbite once more. It’s different from Mai’s, soft flesh and firm pressure. Fingers scarred and calloused from her early years of training with sharp knives. Learning quickly to catch and return, lest she be cut once more.
Jet’s touched him before. Hands roaming in the dark behind the tea shop. He has a break, and Uncle will be expecting his return soon. And despite the flush of heat that threatens to rush his cheeks, Jet’s hands leave ice in their wake. So much so that Zuko briefly wonders if he’s a water bender, he thinks, maybe it would be better. It would be a logical reason for the way Jet makes him cold.
Jet moves away, his breath is heavy against Zuko’s skin. And the weight makes him forget how to breathe on his own. And Jet grins, wide and toothy as his gaze takes over Zuko’s form. And then lingers, as it always does, on his scar. Zuko doesn’t have to be a psychic to know what he thinks. What everyone thinks when their sight rests a second longer over his left eye. And he can’t help the memories that flood his brain of fire and pain and laughter of that day.
Jet asks one day. Days after that event in the alley. They’re sitting on the roof looking over the city. And it’s one of the few times that Zuko is content with this life. It reminds him of better days. Before his mother left and before Azula became cruel. They’d sneak to the top of the palace, looking out along Caldera. Azula would ask him questions she dared not ask aloud in the company of their father. And Zuko would answer, with the most sincere response that he could muster. He missed those days.
Zuko hates it when Jet catches him by surprise. He must be slipping, becoming too comfortable with this strange sense of freedom. Jet’s hand cups his cheek, his thumb grazing the outer ring of scar tissue. And Zuko hates that it still hurts. And he can see Jet speaking, his mouth moving but Zuko doesn’t allow himself to listen. “What-” and he doesn’t let Jet finish his sentence.
“Don’t touch me.” Zuko growls out, turning away from Jet and his hands of ice. He doesn’t meet his gaze, and for once he’s thankful for the blurry vision that conceals Jet’s face from view.
Jet doesn’t touch him again after that. Instead he barges into the tea shop in the middle of his shift and attempts to attack him. And honestly, Zuko is relieved he does, only so that he doesn’t have to feel his hands against him again.
~~~
Sokka’s hands are warm. He notices that while escaping from the boiling rock. Sokka, who lived his whole life in the arctic circle, has the warmest hands of anyone he’s ever touched. Of anyone he has let touch him. And he can’t help the blush that fills his face every time he has the chance to touch him.
Sokka’s eyes are wide as Zuko pulls him into the cooler. The conversations from the passing guards fall on deaf ears, drowned out by the sound of Sokka’s teeth starting to chatter. He doesn’t blame him. Fire nation clothing is meant to be breathable and fire resistant. There was no need to make it impenetrable to the cold. Despite Sokka hailing from the southern water tribe, he had furs and thick coats to protect him from the harshness of the frozen tundra. Here, he had none of that.
Zuko draws his fire, can feel it pool and bubble in his core as hot breath ghosts over Sokka’s cold flesh. And Sokka moves closer, “Sorry.” He whispers, his skin thawing under Zuko’s careful heat. And he can only hum in response as he pulls Sokka closer to him. He pretends he can’t feel the press of Sokka’s lips to his clavicle. He pretends that he doesn’t wish he wanted more.
~~~
Zuko has the information he needs. He knows who’s responsible for the death of Sokka and Katara’s mother. And he goes to stand and he’s caught off guard when Sokka reaches for him, his hand on Zuko’s shoulder as he looks him in the eyes. There’s something unspoken happening between them right now, and he can’t help but step closer to him. Sokka’s eyelids are heavy as he leans close and Zuko’s desperate to rush him. To see if his lips are just as warm as the hand on his shoulder. But he stops himself. Now is not the time for what could be a huge mistake. “Thanks, Sokka.” Zuko mumbles, pulling away and leaving Sokka puzzled and confused. His eyes are downcast and Zuko wishes he could be good enough for him. Good enough for himself.
~~~
Zuko’s nervous. It’s the day of the comet, and Zuko watches as Sokka and Master Piandao speak. And Sokka’s mesmerizing blue eyes meet his and Zuko can’t help but blush as Sokka looks back to Master Piandao, bows and walks towards Zuko. He’s off to the side and can’t help but look over to Uncle, who grins back at him with a wink before returning to speaking with Jeong Jeong.
Sokka’s in front of him now, and he can’t help but observe the softness in Sokka’s eyes. “Zuko.” He starts, and Zuko thinks it's the nicest his name has sounded in a while. There’s softness in Sokka’s voice, tenderness he hasn’t felt from anyone other than Uncle, and it feels wonderful. It encompasses his very core and he wonders if this is what romantic feelings are supposed to feel like. So very different from the gruff edge of Jet, the calculated tone from Mai. It’s almost tangible as it weighs softly in his very soul.
Sokka swallows hard, and Zuko watches as he steps closer to him. A hand comes out and rests on his right shoulder. Always his right. As if Sokka knows how skittish he becomes when his left side is involved. Sokka is observant and kind, it wouldn’t have surprised Zuko if Sokka knew just how much he appreciated it. Sokka’s words are soft, almost a whisper, a declaration for only Zuko to be privy to, “Stay safe.” It’s more of a command than a request, and Zuko can only nod his head. Sokka approaches closer, and Zuko can’t help but lean into the empty space between them. His heart beating erratically in his chest he fears his ribs will break from the force of it all.
Zuko replies, “You too.” their lips are so close and if Zuko wanted to (and he wanted to) he would just have to angle his face like so, lean in a little more, and kiss him like he’s been wanting to for so long. And it’s like Sokka reads his mind because he does exactly that. Their lips brush and it’s like fireworks exploding in his mind. It’s magical and beautiful and Zuko realizes in the back of his mind that his question is answered:
Sokka’s lips are warm and Zuko wants to spend the rest of his days experiencing it.
Sokka’s arm is wrapped around his waist now, the hand that once was on his shoulder rises to cup his cheek, almost as if he needs some tangible proof that Zuko is really there. And Zuko doesn’t want to pull away, doesn’t want this experience to come to an end and be left cold once more. “Sokka.” His name falls from Zuko’s lips like a sacred prayer to Agni.
Sokka pulls away, his dark skin flushed with red as his hands return, one rubbing at his neck as he struggles to remember how to breathe. “Don’t die.” Sokka blurts out and he wants to smack himself in the head for blurting it out. And Zuko laughs. Sokka doesn’t have a moment to think of a recovery before Zuko’s lips are pressed to his cheek, a dopey grin spreading across Sokka’s face as Zuko pulls away.
“You too.” Zuko says. And he wants to promise him, and wants Sokka to promise him. But this is a war and they’re not children anymore.
Sokka wants to kiss him again, but now he’s almost painfully aware of their audience and so he smiles at Zuko, and Zuko smiles back. And Sokka runs back off to the eel hound and Zuko feels cold for the first time in a while. Katara watches him with a soft expression as he climbs on Appa, and he doesn’t miss the smile that accompanies the nod of her head.
~~~
They get a moment to themselves when everything is over. When Zuko is recovering, well, supposed to be recovering. He’s at the table in his study, papers spread out covering every inch of the wooden surface before him. His coronation is tomorrow evening but there’s things to do. He has to make sure Azula gets help. Has to make sure he doesn’t fuck this up. He has to make sure everything is perfect. There’s drafts of laws; outlines really. Laws he wants to repeal, declarations he wants to make. He has the rest of his reign to figure out.
He’s so focused on what he’s doing, the characters on the page almost swimming in his already shitty vision, he almost doesn’t hear the knock on his door. “Zuko?” His head snaps up at the sound of his name and he looks up. The doors to his study are open and Sokka is standing there. Leg no longer wrapped in bandages but he still held on to his crutch with a tight grip.
“Sokka.” The other man’s name falls from his lips in a soft tone, rising quickly out of his chair and almost running to him. It’s the first time they truly were alone since they kissed. They saw each other when the battle was won, but Sokka was busy and Zuko could still feel phantom sensations along his limbs from the lightning. They had shared a glance before Zuko had been pulled away.
“Your Uncle told me where I could find you.” He said sheepishly, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he stared at the tiles of the floor. “I uh.” he paused, Zuko in front of him now and it was almost like Sokka forgot how to speak.
Zuko smiles at him, understanding the unspoken words that seemed caught in his throat. So he replies, “I’m glad to see you too.” He says, and Sokka smiles back at him. Zuko wants to reach out, to hold him against his body. Wants to feel the press of his lips against Sokka’s once more.
And luckily for him, Sokka seems to read him like a book. He reaches out for him, Zuko’s eyes flutter close at the feel of Sokka fingers ghosting over the bare flesh of his arm.
“Prince Zuko.” His name catches him by surprise as he quickly pulls away from Sokka. Looking past him and seeing a palace guard a few yards away. Why hadn’t he heard them approach? “My apologies, sire,” they continued, bowing now that his eyes are on them, “Your presence is needed in the main hall for approval of the final preparations for your coronation tomorrow.”
Zuko nods his head, the guard bowing once more before taking their leave. He turns back to Sokka, who has done his best to not be in the way of Zuko’s important business, “I should go.” He says, meeting his gaze, “I uh, I just wanted to see you.” He’s turning away, and before Zuko could think he’s reaching out for Sokka, stopping him in his tracks.
Sokka looks back at him, and before he can say anything Zuko is leaning in, their lips meeting for the first time since the day of the comet. Sokka’s hand comes to cup the right side of his face, Zuko’s thumb gliding across his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
Zuko pulls away much too quickly. He wants to spend more time with Sokka, but if he doesn’t arrive soon another guard will seek him out. “I’m glad you came by.” Zuko says and Sokka can only nod his head, skin flushed red and Zuko would be lying if he said he didn’t like the way Sokka looked at that moment.
“Perhaps I may be of service and escort his majesty to the main hall.” Sokka says in his best diplomatic impersonation. And Zuko can’t help but laugh.
“I would be most honored.” He replies, offering his elbow to Sokka, who gladly links it with his. And if they sneak one more kiss prior to their arrival then no one else is the wiser.
~~~~
It’s been a week now since his coronation, and Zuko knows that not everything will be sunshine and rainbows, though he knows Sokka will paint them there anyways. But here? In the privacy of the turtle duck pond and a spread of food for him and Sokka, he can pretend it is. Pretend that they’re still out in the world. That they can be happy.
Zuko looks over at Sokka from where he is lounging. Sokka is regaling a story from when he, Toph, and Suki took over the air ships. And Zuko is smiling as Sokka looks at him, drifting off from what he was saying just to continue to gaze at the other man.
There’s a conversation they still need to have. A conversation about what they have. And Zuko’s not sure how to properly approach it, and he’s secretly hoping that Sokka makes the first step.
And he does, “I like you, Zuko.” He says, he pauses and his face scrunches up in the way that makes Zuko laugh. Like he’s just taken a bite out of a particularly sour fruit that hasn’t yet ripen to sweetness. And he hopes that what they have hasn’t gone bad. “Obviously I like you. I don’t go around kissing people I don’t like. And I really like you and well.” He stops, not quite sure how to proceed. So Zuko takes over, shifting his weight to his other arm.
“I like you, too, Sokka.” He says, reaching his hand out to cover Sokka’s. He can feel him relax, releasing tension he wasn’t aware the other was holding. And warmth blossoms between them, and Sokka’s leaning forward now. His weight held on his legs as he straightened himself up just a tad. A hand coming out to wrap around Zuko’s waist, almost as if Sokka was using it to anchor himself in this time and place. Another hand coming up to his neck, bare fingers brushing against his skin as a blush overtakes his face.
“I like you so much.” Zuko can’t help but add on, the words are a jumble inside his brain and he’s never been this shy before. But he knows he doesn’t want to screw this up. But this is Sokka, and he’s known the other man long enough to know that he doesn’t want to lose him. And he knows Sokka would never judge him. Tease him, yes, but judge him? Never. So he speaks the truth that scares him more than anything he’s ever faced since his banishment. “I don’t want to lose you.” He confesses, and Sokka’s gaze goes soft as he leans forward.
Their breath mingling before Sokka kisses him softly, and pulls away all too quickly, “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, jerk bender” Sokka says, and Zuko can’t help but grin. “I’m not gonna let you go that easily.” He continues, and before Sokka can say anything more to the declaration Zuko kisses him back.
They stay like that for some time. The two lie close with no worry about being interrupted. The Kiyoshi Warriors are standing guard, and that means they’re among friends. And Suki would give them a signal before they were to be interrupted by any royal guard or councilman.
Sokka’s the one who voices it, and Zuko is glad it doesn’t fall on him. He’s never been good with that sort of declaration anyways. “Soooo…” he says, leaning close to Zuko and resting his head on his shoulder. Zuko glances down at him, kissing him quickly and watching with amusement as Sokka’s face turns red and he splutters. His trail of thought knocked off course and Zuko secretly enjoys seeing him like this.
“Yeah?” Zuko asks, as Sokka tries to remember how to speak. If he had known it would take a simple kiss to quiet the man before him he would have done it ages ago.
“Are we dating?” Sokka asks, his face doing that thing again. No doubt he had a more eloquent way of putting it but Zuko makes his brain go foggy and he finds it harder to think as it is around the fire bender
Zuko has been waiting for that moment, a wide variety of responses are at the ready and he chooses his favorite one “I hope so. Otherwise I’ve spent the last week kissing a total weirdo who I had no intent on pursuing a romantic relationship with.” Zuko grins, watching as Sokka processes the statement and looks at him with fake horror.
“Listen here-” Sokka begins, a smile on his face as Zuko pulls him close. Their lips collide as Zuko’s hand travels up and becomes tangled in the loose strands of hair that frame Sokka’s face. Sokka relaxes against him, and Zuko doesn’t want to let him go, not yet anyways.
But Sokka pulls away, smirking at the fire bender “Rude.” He says and Zuko leans back, his weight supported by his hand, and gives Sokka a smirk of his own. His heart flutters in his chest and he feels weightless. “I’m beginning to think you only kiss me to shut me up.” And Zuko can only smile wider, a laugh bubbling up from his chest as Sokka pouts.
Sokka’s hand rests on his waist, the other on his right shoulder. A blush still dancing amongst his skin as stray strands of hair cling to the curve of his zygomatic. And his gaze lingers on the left side of his face. And for once, that knowledge doesn’t make him quiver. Sokka blinks and he looks away, and now it’s Zuko’s turn to speak. “It’s okay.” He says, his voice rough as Sokka leans in. “It’s okay.” He echos.
“Is it okay if I do this?” Sokka asks, his voice soft. Bare fingers ghosting along the flesh of the right side of his neck. It’s so different from anything he’s ever felt and Zuko can’t help but be breathless at the tenderness shown to him by his best friend. Well, boyfriend. That’s what they were now, right? Boyfriends?
It takes Zuko a moment to realize Sokka is still waiting for a response, his mind racing as he replies, “...yes.” His voice is horace, and he’s not even sure if he actually responded until Sokka leans in closer. Sokka’s left hand travels up, and suddenly it’s pressed to his face. Soft fingers wrapping around his cheek and his breath comes out in shudders.
“How about this?” Sokka whispers, their lips are closed once more. Zuko’s hair falling into his face and obscuring his already shitty vision even more. But he doesn’t care. Not when the promise of kissing Sokka once more hangs in the space between their lips.
So Zuko responds the only way he knows how to when Sokka is like this, “I swear if you keep stalling I’m going to regr-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. This time, it’s Sokka interrupting him with a kiss. Zuko’s eyes falling shut as his hands wrap around Sokka’s neck, he wants to pull him infinitely closer and keep him there for as long as he can.
And for once, the feel of a hand pressed against his scar doesn’t hurt.