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Sokka’s favorite part of the day was going to bed.
And sure, he loved snuggling up in blankets and gazing out the window, basking in Yue and all her light. He loved dreaming about fun things like math and his family and friends. He loved the silence that came with the night, so still and different from the bustling palace in the day.
But that’s not why he loved going to bed.
There were lots of things to love about the night, but his favorite by far was seeing Zuko.
Zuko, as hard as he tried, was not good at staying up late unlike Sokka who has a night owl and buzzed with productivity during the evenings. Sometimes, he’d return to their room to find Zuko slumped over at the desk or sleeping sitting up in bed, waiting for him.
When that happened, Sokka would gently tuck Zuko’s hair behind his ear, kiss his forehead, and pry whatever book he happened to be holding out of his hands. He’d place it on the desk then carry Zuko to bed, making sure to tuck him in. Then, he’d climb into bed with him and wrap him up in his arms.
He loved watching Zuko sleep, loved feeling his slow breaths and his calm heart against his chest. His brows were always furrowed in his sleep, even if he was sleeping peacefully. It was adorable—Zuko was such a grumpy-pants.
Sometimes, he’d stretch like a cat or nuzzle into Sokka’s neck. His long hair would tickle Sokka’s skin, but he didn’t mind. His hair was silky. Besides, he’d gotten used to waking up with hair in his mouth.
And almost every night when the clouds weren’t covering her, Yue’s light would shine into their room and cover Zuko as if it were another blanket. The silver hue enveloped him, and he looked radiant. Well, Sokka always thought Zuko looked ethereal in silver.
It was almost like Yue was blessing them, like she was nodding in approval. Looking down on them. Maybe she was.
He liked seeing Zuko look so peaceful. He was always so busy—always giving of himself for others. Seeing Zuko so relaxed made his heart stutter and made him think he could relax, too.
He would smile, press another kiss to Zuko’s forehead, then finally close his eyes.
Zuko woke up with a gasp.
Fire…
He sat up, body shaking violently. He couldn’t breathe he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t breathe—
Each intake of breath was short and choppy—it sounded like he was choking. Maybe he was. His throat was dry, as if he’d inhaled smoke and ashes. Sweat fell down his body like rushing rivers. He was hot—Agni, he was so hot.
Fingers clawed at his throat, nails angrily scraping against his skin. Panic seized his body and he shouted hoarsely, lighting his palms on fire.
“Mmm, Z’ko? What’s wrong? Spirits! Zuko?”
Sokka’s voice was a calmer river, dousing out the burning in his brain. But, Agni, he couldn’t see. Everything was grey and smoky and hurt and the hand was still trying to choke him and—
Suddenly, someone was grasping his shoulders. Cool skin met his sweaty body. He almost struggled, but he’d recognize that touch anywhere. He’d recognize the lip fluttering and the fingers tracing a soothing pattern into his skin.
“That’s it. It’s me, Sunshine. It’s just me,” he heard Sokka say. He sounded so far away, but Zuko knew he wasn’t. He swallowed painfully.
“You’re okay. I promise—you’re okay. You’re in bed with me,” Sokka continued.
That… that sounded right. Familiar. He could feel the silk, light bedsheets brushing against his legs, could feel the puffy pillows behind him.
“I know I’m already touching you, but can I hold your hands? Is that okay?”
Yes—he wanted that. Zuko nodded.
He heard Sokka sigh in relief. “Okay. Before I do that, can you do one thing for me, baby?”
Anything, he thought. He nodded again.
“Your hand is still burning. Can you distinguish it? You’re safe. I’m safe. No one here will hurt you.”
Oh, he hadn’t… he hadn’t realized. Zuko tried to breathe again, but it all seemed as if it were clogged in his throat. His hand was on fire. In his bedroom. With Sokka right next to him. Agni, he was so stupid. He could’ve set the bed on fire or, even worse, hurt Sokka.
“No no no, Sunshine. Shhh, I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me. I promise,” Sokka whispered. “Breathe with me, okay? In… and out. In… and out. In… and out.”
Zuko closed his eyes and tried to follow Sokka, to lose himself in the sound of his voice, of the steady sound of his breathing. He tried to let go, to distinguish his flame like Sokka asked, to breathe with him. In… and out.
“That’s it, baby. Just like that. You’re doing great. A couple more times.”
For another minute, they just sat there, breathing as one. It was rough at first, the ash was still stuck in his throat, all flaky and disgusting. But after awhile, it felt as though it had loosened, and he was able to take deep breaths with Sokka.
His mind slowed down while they breathed. His thoughts, which had been wildly thrashing around, were calmer, as if they were going on a walk.
Now, he could better feel Sokka’s fingers rubbing his shoulder, feel his own hand clutching the fabric around his neck. Agni, how stupidly embarrassing of him. His hand dropped into his lap, landing pathetically on his thigh.
And his other hand… the flame was still there, but smaller. It wasn’t angry or terrified anymore. He could feel it shrinking into itself, could feel the overwhelming heat fade away.
Eventually, it was gone, and it was just him and Sokka.
He took one last deep breath before opening his eyes.
Everything was still blurry and everything was dark. It must still be pretty late. He blinked a few times, trying to shake the blurriness from his eyes.
Sokka materialized in front of him. His hair was messy, most strands having fallen out of his wolf tail. He was chewing his bottom lip in worry, eyes wide and focused solely on him.
“Hi,” he muttered. He was so tired.
Sokka physically relaxed as soon as he spoke, his shoulders sagging in relief. “Hi,” he replied, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Is it still okay if I hold your hands?”
“They—they were just burning,” he said, gaze flickering to his lap to glare at his hands.
“That’s okay. They aren’t anymore.”
“I—” he wanted to protest, but Sokka looked so determined, so sure. “Okay.”
So, Sokka carefully took Zuko’s hands in his, weaving their fingers together. He rubbed his knuckles and along the creases of his hand. Zuko never really minded when he did that. He knew Sokka felt bad for touching him “weirdly”, but it was so unlike any touch he’s ever felt before. It was random and sporadic and was just… nice.
“Are you okay?” Sokka asked after a minute, voice hushed.
Zuko shrugged. “Yeah. Just a nightmare.”
He shuddered at the memory. Flames—hungry, consuming. Scathing brightness, scathing heat. Angry shouts and—
“Wanna talk about it?”
Did he? When he closed his eyes, he still saw Sokka’s lifeless body, still saw all the decay and destruction and his helplessness, his inability to do anything and—
No, Sokka was in front of him. Sokka was alive and was holding his hands. He was alive and was here.
So, he shook his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t wanna think about it. I just…” he paused, slowly inhaling and exhaling. “Can I just—or, we just—you know. I—”
He growled. Why couldn’t he just ask! It’s not like Sokka would laugh at him or dismiss him. Sokka always cared about what he thought.
Somehow, Sokka seemed to understand. Though it was dark, Zuko saw Sokka’s eyes soften knowingly. “You want to just lay together?” he asked.
Zuko nodded. Yes, that’s what he wanted.
Sokka let go of his hands, clicked his tongue a couple of times, and then gently guided Zuko until he was laying down again. He let go once more, and Zuko tensed at the lack of contact, but just as his touch disappeared, it reappeared.
Sokka wrapped his arms around Zuko, holding him tenderly, as if he were something special and important. His back was pressed against Sokka’s chest, and he felt Sokka drop his cheek onto the top of his head.
“I love you,” Sokka whispered, lacing his fingers between Zuko’s once they were settled in. And though his voice was like a melody, Zuko could hear the exhaustion.
Guilt pooled in his stomach. The darkness—he’d forgotten. It must be the middle of the night. He woke Sokka up, didn’t he? He frowned. Agni, Sokka was so good to him, so kind. He… he didn’t know what he did to deserve it. To deserve this unending love.
Sokka shouldn’t have to do this for him. He was strong enough to handle it on his own. Sokka barely gets enough sleep as it is.
“I’m… I’m sorry for waking you up.”
The arms around him tightened at his words. “What? No. It’s okay. I’m glad I woke up. You never have to deal with nightmares alone. Not when I’m here.”
“Why?” he couldn’t help but ask. “You were sleeping. You needed the rest.”
Sokka was silent for a moment, his shoulders rolling. Finally, he asked: “You know how I get sleep paralysis sometimes?”
Zuko nodded slowly.
A deep breath and then: “I’m used to dealing with it on my own. You know? Didn’t want to burden Katara or Aang or Toph or… you with it. It made me feel so stupid. But then you found out and you know what you told me? You said that you always wanted me to wake you up when it happens, if I can. To try and tap you if possible. Or… to wake you up after I break out of it.”
Yeah, Zuko remembered that. He remembered waking up to Sokka’s wide, frozen, terrified eyes. He didn’t want Sokka to go through it alone if he could help it.
Oh…
Well, sleep paralysis was different from his childish nightmares.
… right?
“What I’m saying is, you wanted me to wake you up so I wouldn’t be alone. So I could rely on you. And… and that’s what I want you to do, too. I want you to wake me up when you’re scared or need me,” Sokka continued. “I care about you. I want to be there for you. I’m really glad I woke up because then you weren’t alone.”
Zuko swallowed, mulling over what Sokka said.
See, he wasn’t used to this, to having someone care about him so deeply. He was used to being alone. He was used to fragile love that could be shattered with one wrong move. But Sokka’s love wasn’t fragile. It was strong. He didn’t have to tiptoe around Sokka.
It was… weird, being loved so much. It was really hard to understand. Zuko wanted to understand, though, and he wanted to love Sokka like that, too.
So, he burrowed under the covers further, tapping Sokka’s palms thrice. A silent I love you.
Sokka tapped his knuckles three times in return.
Zuko’s favorite part of the day was waking up.
Yeah, he loved meditating on the balcony, he loved watching the sun rise and listening to the birds sing. He loved basking in such a quiet, still world, when everyone was still asleep, existing on his own without any responsibilities.
But that’s not why he loved waking up.
There were lots of things to love about the early morning, but his favorite by far was seeing Sokka.
Sokka was not a morning person. In no world would he ever classify as a morning before. Where Zuko woke with the sun, Sokka slept in until ten minutes before his first meeting of the day. Something about “getting all the beauty sleep he could”.
The first thing Zuko does when he wakes up is look at Sokka.
Somehow, in the middle of the night, Sokka would end up with his limbs sprawled across the bed. Sometimes they’d be draped over Zuko, sometimes they’d be hanging off the bed. It was never the same with him.
The sun was never fully risen when Zuko awoke, so the sky was always different shades of orange, pink, yellow, purple… and they all shined down on Sokka. It was captivating, and Zuko found that he could gaze at the sight for hours. It was almost unfair, how beautiful Sokka was, even with a small trail of drool dripping down his chin. How was Zuko’s heart supposed to handle such ethereal beauty?
Even though it wasn’t entirely bright out, Zuko could still see the freckles that dotted Sokka’s body like stars in the night sky. Sometimes, Zuko would just gaze at them, look for some of the Fire Nation constellations Ty Lee taught him in the freckles on Sokka’s shoulders.
No matter how many times he looked, Zuko always found new ones.
He was a restless sleeper, so once he crawled out of bed, Zuko would pick any pillows or blankets up off the floor and put them back on the bed. Then, he’d mess around with the blankets until Sokka was tucked into bed.
Sokka slept with his hair pulled up, but it always fell out sometime in the night. Usually, the hair tie would be tangled somewhere in his hair, but occasionally it would be lost somewhere in bed. If it was still in his hair, Zuko would carefully pull it out, comb through Sokka’s hair with his fingers, and then put it back up for him.
Then, he’d bend down and kiss Sokka’s forehead.
It was always strange to see Sokka so still and silent since he doesn’t tic in his sleep. He knows Sokka prefers it that way, thinks he’s more lovable like that, but Zuko always longs for the little sounds, the little twitches.
It’s nice to see him look so peaceful, though. So unbothered and calm. As if he didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Then, Zuko would meditate on the balcony for a half hour. Afterwards, he’d change into his robes for the day. Once he was all set and ready, he’d write Sokka a little note and place it on his nightstand. Then, he’d give him a second forehead kiss, and leave for the kitchens, making sure to close the door softly.
Sokka screamed, slamming his hands on his desk. His heart thumped angrily in his chest.
He had too much to do—far too much to do—but he didn’t have any time to do it! And his eyes were dropping and burning and he was so thirsty and his leg hurt so much from all the running around he did today and there were so many deadlines floating around in his brain that he couldn’t remember what went with what and—
Rough, warm hands wrapped around his waist as a chin plopped on his shoulder. “Hey, Penguin.”
Sokka tried not to melt into the gentle touch, but he could only resist for so long. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on and match Zuko’s rhythmic breathing. It was steady, controlled. He breathed in, slowly, shakily, and then out. His breath wavered, but he was living in tandem with Zuko.
His neck jerked harshly, his shoulders rolled like there was no tomorrow. It couldn’t have been comfortable, but Zuko never let go.
“It’s late,” Zuko whispered. “You’ve been working all day, why don’t you head to bed?”
Bed… Spirits, Sokka wanted to go to bed so badly. But… “I have so much work to do,” he sighed, raising a hand to massage his temple. “I need to finish this pitch for the minister of education and I need to finish rewriting this proposal for King Kuei—it’s not like he could do it himself—not to mention all the work for the council and—”
“Penguin.”
Sokka’s mouth clamped shut upon instinct, chest heaving.
“It’s going to be okay,” Zuko said, gently pressing his lips against the side of Sokka’s neck. “The world won’t implode if you go to sleep.”
The words tingled through his skin, a soft kind of heat flowing from his neck down to his arms, passing through his chest, and all the way down to his knees.
And he knew—he knew that resting wouldn’t destroy the world’s economy, that going to sleep wouldn’t burn the Earth Kingdom to ashes. But… Sokka’s mouth was dry and his clammy fingers were twisting anxiously around each other.
“I—” he swallowed. “I know that.”
He could practically feel Zuko’s disbelieving stare and raised brow. “Uh huh,” he said, slowly releasing Sokka from his grip. Zuko grabbed his hand before Sokka could whine at the loss of contact and began dragging him away from the desk.
“Hey! If you’re going to force me to sleep then at least let me put everything away first!” he squawked, digging his heels into the floors. Unfortunately, Zuko was stronger, and his feeble attempts to crawl back to the desk weren’t even an inconvenience.
At that, Zuko snorted. “Sokka, and I say this with all the love in the world, but if I let you go back and put everything away, you’ll spiral. One minute you’ll be stacking the papers, and then next you’ll see a spelling error or come up with something you just have to add. It’s either this or I’m carrying you to bed over my shoulder.”
Well, that wasn’t fair. Sokka liked being carried by Zuko, it made him feel safe and important and, it’s just… Zuko was so strong. But he knew from past experience that Zuko carrying him away from work and to bed meant being flung over his shoulder and dropped onto their bed and it was more embarrassing than hot. So, he stopped struggling and let Zuko lead him.
They reached the bed and Zuko used his free hand to gently maneuver Sokka until he was sitting on it. “It’ll all be there in the morning for you, babe. Come on, you’re so stiff. Let me take care of you.”
His voice was smooth as honey, laced so heavily with care and love that it was impossible to protest. “I—”
Sokka wasn’t good at taking breaks. He never really got to take them when the war was still raging, when he and his family were actively being hunted. The aftermath of war wasn’t much different. The teenagers who saved the world should be the one to fix it, right? At least, that’s what everyone’s lack of stepping up suggested. Dad tried to tell him that it wasn’t his responsibility—it wasn’t any of their responsibilities. But he’s the youngest council member by a couple of years and a good chunk of them are old and bigoted.
Change wasn’t going to just happen—he had to work for it. Every break he took felt like he was letting some young kid down, like the world was one step closer to raging again.
And that was stupid —he knew it was—but, well… it wasn’t easy to tell himself that he was safe and Katara was safe and his dad was safe and Aang and Toph and Zuko and Haru and—
His breath hitched. “I have so much to do,” he croaked.
Zuko, who had kneeled before him, one hand on his bad knee and the other tenderly cupping his cheek sometime during his spiral, nodded seriously (that was something Sokka loved about Zuko—he always took him seriously). “You do,” he agreed. “And you want your work to be good, right? Thoughtful, indisputable?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Zuko said, smiling warmly. “Then you should know that it won’t be your best work when you’re this tired, right?”
“I’m not that tired,” he protested, fluttering his lips and shrugging his shoulders.
Zuko chuckled, his laugh light like a gentle ripple in a pond. “Penguin, the bags under your eyes are so heavy we could take them shopping. Don’t force yourself to work when you need rest. You’ve done so much today, not only can you afford to sleep, but you deserve sleep. You can’t deny yourself rest, baby. You just can’t.”
Deep down, he knew what Zuko was saying was true. He knew. So… why couldn’t he believe it?
“How… how do you just… let yourself sleep when there’s so much to do?” His voice was faint and scratchy.
And Zuko was gazing at him with this heavy sadness in his eyes. Sokka fidgeted uncomfortably. “You’re… you’re so good, Sokka,” Zuko finally said, rubbing his thumb across his cheek. “And you’re just a kid. We both are. I wish I could… I wish I could just make you believe me when I tell you that you deserve to go to bed.”
“I try to!”
“I know you do,” Zuko quickly assured. “I think… this is something we should talk about when we’re both more awake. When you aren’t running on four hours of sleep. For now, I need you to trust me. You trust me, right?”
“Always,” Sokka said instantly. He didn’t need to think about—trusting Zuko was instinct.
Zuko bent forward and kissed his knee, carefully, slowly. So full of love that Sokka’s cheeks began to heat up. “Then trust me when I say you deserve sleep, okay?”
His fists clenched at his side, his eyes blinked wildly, painfully. Sokka would trust Zuko with his life—he trusted Zuko more than he trusted himself. So, despite the way his body and mind protested, the way they tensed and stung, he nodded jerkily. “Okay.”
The affirmation peeled off his tongue as if he were prying dried paint off a wall, but even still, Sokka allowed Zuko to help him undress and change into his night robes and then guide him into bed. Vaguely, he could hear Zuko mumbling something about how they’ve both been working too much and should take a long vacation to the Southern Water Tribe soon.
Zuko gathered Sokka in his arms once they were laying down, running his fingers through his hair and humming quietly. He had a beautiful voice, Sokka discovered one day awhile back. He’d been walking around the palace garden one day when he stumbled upon Zuko sitting by the turtleduck pond, singing.
And Sokka didn’t think it was possible to love Zuko even more.
Sokka closed his eyes almost cautiously, his heart still numb and scared at the prospect of resting when there was so much to do. He gripped Zuko tightly, drowning himself in his heat.
Sokka laughed, pressing closer into a pouting Zuko.
“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy,” he teased, booping Zuko on the nose.
Zuko rolled his eyes. “I’m not grumpy,” he said. “I’m just cold.”
“Hm, it’s almost like we’re in the Southern Water Tribe…” Sokka grinned cheekily at him, his face full of light and life.
After months upon months of endless work that the world deposited onto their laps, Zuko and Sokka finally managed to take a break. A three month long vacation in the Southern Water Tribe to get out of the stifling palace and to spend time with Sokka’s— their —family. They made a promise to not talk about politics or work the entire time. This was for them, not the world. They deserved to be selfish.
Zuko huffed, but grinned at the joy practically radiating off Sokka. It was nice to see him so carefree, so relaxed.
The first few days of their trip were rough, what with Sokka’s chronic pain flaring up as soon as they landed and all. They had to spend a couple of days laying around and doing nothing while Sokka’s leg throbbed and burned. Katara did her best to relieve some of the pain and Zuko provided all the warmth and heat Sokka needed, but it was still disheartening to see him look so dejected.
It was their seventh fifth night of vacation, and they’d headed to bed once Sokka realized how red Zuko’s face was and how hard he was shivering. Yeah, he was still getting adjusted to the cold.
They were laying in bed, bodies and limbs intertwined with one another as Zuko tried to warm himself up. It had been a long day today. Hakoda took Zuko hunting while Bato and Sokka went on a couple of walks to ease him into being active in the cold.
Hunting was a mess, but in Zuko’s defense, he was cold. He slipped into a couple piles of snow along the way, and he couldn't escape Hakoda’s bemused grin the entire trek back.
Still, it was nice to feel so wanted, to be away from everything. Even if Sokka, Katara, and Aang cackled at his expense. It was worth it to see Sokka smile. Katara just got a snowball to the face, and, well, that may have been incredibly stupid on Zuko’s part because she retaliated by dropping a pile of snow on him.
So, yeah. Zuko was cold.
But… huddling so close to Sokka made him a bit warmer.
“You’re just grumpy because I’m a better hunter than you,” Sokka continued, leaning his head on Zuko’s shoulder.
“Please, the only reason I did so badly was because I was still getting used to all the snow and ice,” Zuko retorted, wrapping an arm around Sokka so he could run his fingers through his hair. “I bet I’d do better than you once I get adjusted to the cold.”
Sokka’s eyes glimmered. “Oh, are you issuing a challenge?”
“Maybe I am,” Zuko smirked. “You and Aang versus me and Katara. Three days from now.”
“Oh, absolutely not!” Sokka protested, running his fingers along Zuko’s side.
“What, you scared?”
“Yeah, a little!” he cried. At Zuko’s smug grin, he sighed. “Of Katara, not you, you doofus. Besides, you guys aren’t allowed to team up anymore. Remember? It’s a rule.”
Oh, yeah. To be fair, he and Katara didn’t really do anything wrong. They were just playing some game kind of similar to Pai Sho that Iroh taught the group. It was Zuko and Katara against Suki and Aang. It’s not like they intended to set fire to curtains or drench their opponents in water. They just… had a lot of feelings. And also would’ve won if everyone hadn’t rage quit and then made that stupid rule.
He huffed. “Fine. You and Bato against Hakoda and I. Deal?”
“Oh, you’re so on! You’re going down!”
“In your dreams!”
Zuko prodded Sokka’s side, eliciting a giggle. Sokka did the same to Zuko, who did it back. Soon, they were a mess of poking and tickling and loud laughter as they each tried to pin the other to the bed.
“Can you guys shut up?”
They both jumped apart at the sound of Katara’s voice.
“I know you guys are disgustingly in love, but some of us are trying to sleep!”
Zuko and Sokka looked at each other, looked in the direction of the igloo where Katara and Aang were sleeping, then back at each other. Then, they burst into laughter.
“I guess we should try to get some sleep,” Sokka sighed.
“I suppose,” Zuko conceded. “You’ll need it, after all. If you want to stand a chance at winning.”
Sokka lightly kicked Zuko then instantly wrapped himself around Zuko, curling up into his side. “Love you, Sunshine,” he mumbled, tapping his back three times.
Zuko tapped his arm thrice in return, laying his head on top of Sokka’s as he yawned, the exhaustion finally starting to hit him. “Love you, too, Penguin.”