Archive of Our Own

The Hundred Year War is over. Bato barely believes the news as he and the remaining invasion forces are released from their cells. Every survival instinct in him cries that it must be some kind of sick Fire Nation trick. But then, why would they say it was by order of Prince Zuko?

When he finally makes it outside into a grand courtyard, the sound of people celebrating washes away all of his doubts. They did it. The kids really did it. His chest swells with pride, but it’s soon replaced by paralyzing fear. But at what cost?

A sea of faces swirls around him, but none are the right ones.

Even with the morning sun just barely peeking over the horizon, Bato has to squint, eyes taking longer to adjust after being in a dim cell for so long. He desperately scans face after face, hoping against all odds one of them will belong to-

“Bato...?” A voice calls out, faint with disbelief.

Bato freezes, whirling around to face the source of that gravelly voice he’d know anywhere. His eyes meet ocean blue ones he fell in love with decades ago and he’s powerless to stop himself from running towards the man he wasn’t even sure was still alive.

He’s half-convinced he’s hallucinating, but then the solid, warm body of Hakoda crashes into his awaiting arms, shaking and very much real. Bato dips his head down to press his nose against Hakoda’s hair and takes a deep breath, instantly hit with a smell that’s so distinctly him he almost sobs with relief.

“I thought you might be dead,” Bato chokes out, arms tightening their death grip around broad shoulders. “How are you here? Where did they-” He has to fight back a million other questions as the most important ones push to the front. “Are the kids okay? Are they safe?”

“I-I don’t know.” Hakoda shakes his head, hiding his face in his chest and gripping him tighter.

“We’ll find them,” Bato says, and somehow he knows it’s the truth.

When, after a moment, Hakoda still doesn’t let go, Bato lets himself take the risk of overstepping friendly boundaries and places a gentle kiss on the top of his head. He knows Hakoda has been more open to physical affection in recent months, but it’s still a huge relief when he doesn’t pull away in disgust like his brain insists he has every right to do. On the contrary, Hakoda seems to finally let himself relax into the hug, his grip becoming less desperate and more tender.

“We’ll find them,” Hakoda repeats back resolutely. He seems reluctant as he pulls away, letting one hand linger on Bato’s good arm as he asks, “The rest of the men, are they safe?”

“Everyone who was captured during the invasion should still be here. After you were taken…” Bato has to take a moment, fighting through a sudden wave of emotion brought on by the memory. Hakoda gives his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I was kept in solitary, so I unfortunately haven’t had much contact with the others.”

Hakoda’s gaze strays to the crowd surrounding them and Bato can’t help doing the same. He finally starts to recognize the masses of people wearing green as swamp and earthbenders. The blue uniforms of their tribesmen become easy to spot once he starts looking but he passes over them for the time being.

Where are they?

“There’s one of the kids’ friends!” Hakoda exclaims, pointing to a small earthbender girl on the shoulders of a hulking boy who lets out a boisterous laugh. He drags Bato through the crowd with him as he makes his way towards them. Upon closer inspection, Bato recognizes the two from their time together leading up to the invasion.

“Toph!” Hakoda calls out. “Oh, thank the spirits.”

The young earthbender scrunches up her face for a moment then grins in recognition. “Oh! Sokka’s dad, right?” She hops down from Pipsqueak’s shoulders, landing with a soft thud.

“What happened? Where’s everyone else?”

“Are you kids okay?”

“Aang kicked Fire Lord butt, that’s what happened!” Toph shouts, earning triumphant cries from the other kids surrounding her. “After me, Sokka, and Suki took out a whole fleet of airships, of course. Oh! And Zuko and Katara showed Azula who’s boss…”

The rest of Toph’s words fade mostly into the background as the confirmation that they all made it out in one piece washes over Bato. Though her words do nothing to stop him from being sick with worry, knowing alive doesn’t necessarily mean unharmed.

He knows if he thinks about it for too long the horror of such young kids having to go through so much will begin to set in; pride replaced by a painful sort of grief. Thankfully, Hakoda is there beside him, pulling him to his side and keeping him grounded in the present.

“But they can probably tell you more about it themselves.” Toph smirks, pointing somewhere behind the two watertribe men.

They both turn around just in time to hear Sokka and Katara shouting their names and the next thing Bato knows, he finally has three of the most important people to him back in his arms.

He’s finally home.

Later that night–after Zuko has officially been crowned Fire Lord and evening festivities have begun–Bato and Hakoda have a moment of peace to themselves.

Bato’s limbs feel warm and fuzzy, though whether from the exquisite food bursting with flavor now in his stomach or from exhaustion he’s not sure. A strong, equally warm body presses against his side and he sighs contentedly.

“I don’t know how they do it,” Hakoda mumbles sleepily, indicating the mostly younger people still occupying the impromptu dance floor a little ways off.

“I think we’re getting old, it’s been a while since we’ve danced like that,” Bato says with a low chuckle, not mentioning how that’s probably because they’ve had very little to celebrate as of late. He can just barely make out the forms of Sokka (crutch be damned), Katara, and the rest of their entourage among the dancers. He thinks for a moment, heart beating almost painfully in his chest. “You should be out there, celebrating with your family.”

“Let them have their fun.” Hakoda smiles softly and then straightens up, facing him with a fierce determination in his eyes that has Bato’s mouth feeling a little dry.

He knows he shouldn’t stare but isn’t strong enough to look away tonight. After so many years of loving those very eyes, he finds himself mesmerized by the new way they burn in the amber glow of the Fire Nation lights surrounding them. So beautiful that it makes him want to curse the Spirits for always keeping him just out of reach. The man he’s loved for as long as he can remember. An ache as familiar and instinctive to him as breathing.

What he doesn’t expect is the way Hakoda keeps staring too. Or the way his hand lifts to cradle the back of his neck. Bato tries to hide the stutter in his breath, desperately squashing down the feelings of hope before they get the chance to finally shatter him.

The hand at Bato’s neck gently pulls him down until their foreheads are touching, explorative fingertips brushing along the sensitive hairs at the nape. It’s all Bato can do not to whimper at the soft touch, somehow more intimate than the nights they’ve shared sleeping in each other’s arms.

Hakoda’s eyebrows furrow in a way that tells Bato he’s about to be told off, though for what he’s unsure. His heart pounds in his chest in anticipation, his breaths becoming shallower by the second. He listens as Hakoda takes a steadying breath and then takes one of his own.

Hakoda’s voice is low and thick with emotion when he finally says, “I’m where I’m needed most right now and that’s with my family here. With you, Bato.”

“Hakoda…” Bato’s throat seizes up completely, eyes welling up with sudden tears.

“You will always have a place with me, with my family. With our family.” Hakoda presses a gentle kiss onto the top of Bato’s hair, mirroring the taller man’s actions from before. His next words are slightly muffled but Bato hears him as if he were speaking directly to his heart. “You are my strength. My courage. My harbor in a storm.”

Calloused hands wipe away the tears now sliding down Bato’s cheeks, soft as the gentlest caress. Bato opens his eyes only to be greeted by a look he’s only ever caught glimpses of. One he’s gotten used to telling himself will never belong to him, because it has always so clearly been meant for Kya. Beautiful, strong, self-sacrificing Kya.

He feels completely at Hakoda’s mercy, his hand moving of its own accord to mirror the hand on his neck. The fear of ever being separated from him for a third time—left with the all-consuming regret of never being fully honest with his closest friend—is what finally makes him break. He’s powerless to stop himself from whispering, “I love you.”

A lifetime worth of yearning pours out of him with those three simple words. More terrifying than storming the Fire Nation’s capital, or holding a newborn Sokka for the first time. Hakoda’s gaze burns into him and Bato wants nothing more than to be swallowed up by the flames.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“Why?” Hakoda cuts in gently, thumbs brushing away Bato’s fresh tears. Before Bato can answer, Hakoda asks a new question. Something fragile but filled with what can only be hope. “Do you mean it?”

This time, when his own hope begins to peek out of its hiding place, he doesn’t immediately squash it back down. His heart aches as he says, “Of course, Hakoda.”

“Then you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I-”

“I know.” A flash of grief takes over Hakoda’s features for a moment, raw and bittersweet. “I know. But I also know that what my heart is telling me is true. You have always had a space in my heart and always will. Just as she always will. You aren’t encroaching on my grief, or taking advantage of me, or doing whatever ridiculous things that brain of yours is telling you.”

“And even though it’s taken an embarrassingly long amount of time for me to realize it for myself. I mean, seriously embarrassing. Like, ‘Kya is definitely laughing at me from beyond the grave’ levels of embarrassing.” Hakoda grins sheepishly and Bato melts, letting out a small laugh. He pulls Bato in close once more until their noses are almost touching, fingers twisting in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I love you.” Hakoda whispers it almost reverently, like a prayer. “I love you, Bato.”

Bato barely has time to process the euphoria from hearing those words from his mouth before those same lips are claiming his own in a heated kiss. Something molten and dizzying pools in his stomach and his chest cries out in protest from having to keep his thundering heart contained. Decades of dreaming, wishing, yearning for the feeling of Hakoda against him like this pale in comparison to the real thing.

Which is, of course, why it has to be cut unfairly short by a startled voice.

“Oh uhh-” Sokka’s voice crack is unmistakable.

Bato and Hakoda jump apart like they’ve been caught with their hands in the seal jerky jar. Embarrassment floods through Bato’s body, made worse by the realization that Sokka isn’t alone. Though the Kyoshi Warrior and freshly-crowned Fire Lord appear more awkward than disgusted, like teenagers who forgot that adults kiss each other too.

Spirits above, Hakoda had kissed him. Had said he loved him.

A strong hand finds Bato’s under the table and he finally lets himself look at Sokka, having always dreaded the reaction of the kids more than he’s ever been afraid of Hakoda’s. Sokka’s face scrunches up and Bato prepares for the worst.

“Ugh, dad! Get a room. Please.” Sokka shudders for effect. “I’m glad you worked through your sexuality crisis and all but like, come on, serious oogies.”

Bato can’t help laughing with relief, turning to Hakoda with a curious look at the words ‘sexuality crisis’. Hakoda’s face turns even redder.

“Oogies? What are you, ten?” Suki questions mockingly.

“No son should have to see his dad making out with his-” Sokka cuts himself off, frowning. “Well, okay. It feels a little weird to call you Uncle Bato now given the circumstances, but…”

Zuko turns to Sokka, confused. “He’s your…?”

“He’s not actually my uncle!”

Suki pokes them both in the sides. “I think we’re getting off topic. Don’t forget why we came over here in the first place.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Sokka suddenly looks nervous, glancing between Bato and Hakoda. “I know you’ve sort of all met each other already. Mostly. But uhh, dad, Bato. This is Suki, my girlfriend.” He takes her hand in his with a sappy grin. Then, after only the barest hint of hesitation, he takes Zuko’s hand in the other. “And this is Zuko, my boyfriend.”

Bato must not hide his surprise well, judging by how unsure Sokka looks when he adds a tentative, “Tada…?”

Snapping himself out of his mild confusion, Bato stands to greet them properly. He can ask as many questions as he needs to some other time. “It’s an honor to make both of your acquaintance.”

Hakoda stands to do the same, taking a moment to pull Sokka into a bear hug. Letting go of a now red-faced Sokka, he looks warmly from Suki to Zuko. “All are welcome in our household. You’ve got your hands full with this one, though. I trust you’ll keep him out of too much trouble?”

Sokka holds up both of his occupied hands, snorting. “Hands full? Get it?”

Hakoda grins and Bato braces himself for a surely terrible joke. “All you kids need now is an Air Nomad, then you’ll have the full Avatar cycle.”

“Dad!”

“Oh come on, it’s a little funny. You followed the order and everything!”

“Aang and Katara can keep their oogies to themselves, thanks.”

Bato chuckles. “Between the two of you we’ll have a kid from each nation regardless.”

“Think we can handle it?” Hakoda’s devious smile has Bato reaching out for his hand again, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Absolutely.”

After a few more teasing comments and some playful ribbing between father and son, Sokka glances off, looking pensive. Bato follows his gaze to where Katara is sitting with Aang a little ways off and quickly understands.

“We should tell Katara as well. She deserves to hear it from us first,” Bato says, glancing at Hakoda who nods in understanding. He knows they’ve been on better terms since their talk before the invasion, but if anyone isn’t going to take the news well, it’s her.

“Me and Zuko can send her your way,” Suki says, taking the firebender by the arm and dragging him away with her. “Come find us when you’re done!”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Sokka shouts back as they get farther away.

“And if you do, don’t get caught!” Hakoda chimes in, earning him a chiding elbow to the ribs from Bato.

He only feels bad when Hakoda visibly winces, having entirely forgotten about his injury during the Day of Black Sun.

“Shit, sorry Koda-

Sokka gasps dramatically, covering his ears. “Bato! My innocent ears!”

“I know for a fact Hakoda has said much worse around you kids. Is that still giving you trouble?” Bato continues, smoothing a hand over Hakoda’s waist.

“It’s just a little tender, nothing to worry about.”

“Hakoda…” Bato starts warningly.

“Oh, don’t you start. Honestly, Bato, it’s fine.”

“You said the same thing when you ignored that fracture for a month,” Bato counters pointedly.

“Does the word ‘oogies’ mean nothing to you?” Sokka cries out indignantly.

“What about oogies?”

They all whip around to see a confused, if concerned-looking Katara.

“Nothing!” Sokka blurts out, turning to Hakoda. “I mean- Well-”

“Oogies aside. Your father and I wanted to talk to you two about something. Though I’m afraid your brother is already…” Bato pauses, feeling his face heat up. “...privy to the details.”

“Okay,” Katara says, looking between the three of them uneasily.

“Also they know about Suki and Zuko,” Sokka adds quickly in a stage whisper.

“And we assured him that everyone is welcome under our roof,” Hakoda says firmly. “Even if the circumstances aren’t exactly traditional by most standards.”

“By stupid standards,” Sokka mutters.

Hakoda laughs. “Yes, alright. By stupid standards.”

“Oh,” Katara says, looking at Bato and Hakoda with wide eyes.

“And the thing is, love does funny things. Sometimes you just have to let yourself be swept up in its current and not try to dictate its direction. Even if that means branching into multiple directions at once, or…” Hakoda stops to think for a moment. When Bato takes the plunge and grabs one of his hands, he smiles. “Or meeting with a river that’s been right beside you all along.”

Bato can tell the wheels are beginning to turn in Katara’s head, but she hasn’t quite put it together yet.

Hakoda continues. “And for me, that river turned out to be Bato. Though it took me far too long to realize it for myself.”

“But what about- When did-” Katara looks more confused than ever, eyes starting to well up with tears. “I don’t understand.”

“You kids know Kya and I have always made a space for Bato in our family, and I think I’m finally beginning to understand why. Beginning to understand that loving multiple people in a lifetime doesn’t diminish that love, you just have to make room to fit more.” Hakoda takes Katara’s hand in his. “I love your mother and will continue to love her even after our spirits are reunited in the ocean. That fact will never change. But I also love Bato.”

“And I love Hakoda.” Bato catches Katara’s other hand on its way down from holding her necklace, grasping it firmly. He reaches over to grab Sokka’s arm as well, straining against the flood of emotions building in his chest. “No one could replace Kya. I wouldn’t want to even if I could. Your father, your mother, Kanna, you and your brother. I care for all of you so deeply. You’ve always given me a place to come home to, a family to keep fighting for when all seemed lost. All I ask is that you allow me to continue doing what I always have.”

There’s a moment of silence as they all seem to wait for Katara’s response. When one isn’t immediately forthcoming, Sokka breaks the silence, sounding choked up.

“I think…” He gives Bato’s hand a squeeze then looks up with determination. “I think she would’ve been happy it was you who dad found, Bato. You held us together even when it seemed impossible. Especially dad. And I can’t think of a single person I’d trust more to keep being good to him. To all of us.”

Sokka’s earnest gaze and words are what finally make Bato crack, tears silently sliding down his cheeks as his heart swells in his chest. “That means more than you know, Sokka. Thank you.”

Katara huffs in frustration and Bato braces himself for the inevitable. Unexpectedly, she turns to Sokka. “How can you accept this so easily? You’re acting like this isn’t even that big of a deal!”

Sokka turns to Katara with a no-nonsense look that startles Bato with how much it makes him resemble his mother. “Think about it Katara. It’s not like Bato’s some stranger, he’s known mom and dad longer than we’ve been alive! I’m not saying it won’t be weird for a bit, but don’t you think dad deserves to be happy?”

“Of course dad deserves to be happy!” Katara snaps, looking afronted.

“Even if that means him, y’know, building a future with someone who isn’t mom?” Sokka continues with a pointed look. Katara looks away, abashed, and Sokka’s tone softens. “It’s a lot to take in, I know. You have every right to be upset and scared and confused. That’s kinda how I felt at first too. But like they said, no one is being replaced. We’re not going to forget mom ever existed just because dad was lucky enough to find another person who makes him happy.”

“I think I just need some time,” Katara says, arms crossed and shoulders tense.

“Of course, kiddo,” Hakoda breaks in gently, making Bato want to wrap all of them up in the world’s biggest hug and never let go.

She glances down at her necklace once more and then gives Sokka a tentative, watery smile. “I think you’re right though.”

“As always,” Sokka says with a smug sigh that eases the tension out of all of them.

Katara rolls her eyes and then seems to sober up, looking distant again. “I can still remember how in the months after we lost her, dad could barely muster up a smile, let alone laugh. I felt the same, even if I didn’t fully understand what happened or why. It didn’t take long for Sokka to make me laugh with his stupid antics though-”

“Hey!”

“-maybe a few weeks or so. But it was different with dad. We tried to cheer him up in all the ways we could think of. Anything to hear one of his loud laughs…”

Bato remembers those days all too well. The haunting silence of a too-quiet home that once felt so endlessly full of life. Months where it was a struggle to get Hakoda to eat and drink, let alone leave his bed. Days that were clouded by a blanket of their mutual grief as Bato did everything he could to make sure they kept holding on. One more day. Just one more day. And then on to the next, every passing week becoming a celebration of the life they fought to cling to together.

“Then, there was this one night where we were all sitting down for dinner. Bato was telling a story about all three of you getting up to mischief together. Gran Gran seemed wary. But then, against all odds, you finally got him to laugh. It wasn’t even a big one. But I think that’s the day they started coming easier. And I was so thankful that you were there, Bato. You never gave up on us. You were always there, protecting us, protecting dad, like some kind of guardian spirit. And you still are.”

“Oh, come here all of you,” Bato says softly, giving in and pulling his family in close for a much-needed group hug.

He imagines they’re quite the sight to any passersby as they become a crying, trembling mess of blue. But he doesn’t care in the slightest. He has exactly what he needs right here in his arms and in the open support of the people he cares about most.

It’s a long time before they pull away from each other and Sokka is, once again, the first to talk.

“I think everyone needs a guardian spirit or two. I like to think I have mine, even if…” He trails off, seeming unable to continue.

Bato is caught off-guard by Sokka’s suddenly somber tone, initially presuming his ‘guardian spirits’ were the two people he just introduced to them. He watches as Katara grabs one of his hands, whispering a soft, “Oh, Sokka…”

“Taking the guardian spirit term literally, hah- There’s one, umm-” Sokka’s voice hitches like he’s trying not to start crying again. “There’s someone I haven’t mentioned to you guys yet. Someone that we met while traveling with Aang.”

And so, Bato and Hakoda learn the story of the Northern Water Tribe princess, Yue. Beautiful, strong, self-sacrificing Yue. With each word of Sokka’s story, Bato’s heart breaks just that little bit more. He knows Hakoda isn’t faring much better beside him, a story that hits impossibly close to home.

“I’d never wished so badly that I could talk to you. Ask how you learned to let go of the blame and guilt. How you learned to forgive yourself.”

“Knowing Kya would kick my ass if she knew I was dwelling needlessly on ‘what ifs’,” Hakoda says easily and Bato knows he’s entirely serious. “That and constant reminders from Bato that the only person to blame is the raider who took her in the first place.”

Katara and Sokka both tense almost imperceptibly at the mention of the raider but don’t say anything.

”Or that Fire Nation admiral who killed the koi, in your case. Realizing that everyone is in charge of their own destiny and no one else’s.”

Sokka thinks for a moment and smiles, rubbing at his eyes. “I think that’s what helped me too. Realizing that Yue wouldn’t want me stuck in the past, forgetting to live the days I’ve been blessed enough to still have to the fullest.”

“Seems my son has grown into a very wise man,” Hakoda says, giving Bato a sideways glance.

“Don’t have to sound so surprised dad,” Sokka jokes, clearly preening under the praise. “Watertribe geniuses, right?”

Katara punches his shoulder, causing him to nearly lose his balance on his crutch. “Don’t let it go to your head, doofus.”

Sokka sticks his tongue out. “Let me have this!”

Watching the two bicker has Bato feeling oddly soothed. Hakoda as well, if his fond smile is anything to go by. Bato feels stuffed to the brim with affection for them, reassured that although they’ve been through many hardships, some things will seemingly never change between them.

“Alright, you two,” Hakoda breaks in. “I love you both very much and am unbelievably proud of what you kids have accomplished. And I am so sorry you had to endure such heartache alone.”

Sokka shrugs, his smile fond and genuine. “We weren’t totally alone.”

Katara nods. “Besides. Our family is together now, that’s what matters.”

With his hand back in Hakoda’s, Bato couldn’t agree more.

As the night draws to a close, Bato and Hakoda are escorted by palace attendants to a room not too far from where the kids are staying. Though not so close that Bato feels they won’t have privacy.

The moment the door shuts, Bato breathes a sigh of relief. He thinks he’ll be cringing for at least a week at the memory of having to tell the attendants that they would only be needing one room instead of two.

He says as much and Hakoda snorts. “They were shockingly polite about it.”

“Knowing who the previous Fire Lords were, I’m sure two watertribe men sharing a room is one of the least shocking things they’ve seen.”

They take a moment to look around the room, begrudgingly in awe of how lavishly it’s decorated. Bato has always known the Fire Nation to be extremely wealthy, but it’s another thing entirely to see it for himself.

“If this is a guest room, I’m not sure I want to know how fancy the royal chambers are.”

“You’ll have to ask your son,” Bato teases, causing him to laugh.

“My dad instincts are telling me I should make sure they’re in separate rooms, but that feels a little pointless against three sixteen-year-olds. One of which is now the leader of a nation.”

“Spirits, he’s that young?”

“Seventeen at the oldest. Way too much responsibility if you ask me. He’s still a kid.”

“I see we’ve already expanded from two kids to three.”

“Going on six.” Hakoda smiles at him helplessly and Bato positively melts. He walks over to the large bed in the center of the room, hesitates only a moment longer, then collapses onto it with a groan that borders on obscene. “Call me a sap all you want, I know you’re developing just as big of a soft spot for all of them.”

“I’m not going to be able to get you back out of that bed, am I.”

Bato is a little embarrassed to find his heart thundering in his chest at the sight of him sprawled out on top of the covers, feeling like a teenager about to share a bed with their partner for the first time. Underneath the nerves though is the trust that presumably not much will actually change within their relationship with the truth now out in the open.

“Here I was thinking this is exactly where you would want me,” Hakoda sighs forlornly and Bato wants to smack the stupid flirtatious grin off his face.

“Maybe later, but right now, I’d much rather find somewhere to bathe.”

Hakoda sits up at that, looking flushed at the promise of ‘later’ and then gushing like a child on their birthday as he says, “Bato. They might actually have hot water.”

“Only one way to find out.” Bato reaches down to grasp his arm and pulls him off the bed, his hand sliding down to tangle their fingers together before he can overthink it.

They roam aimlessly around the palace before finally giving in and asking a nearby guard. Upon entering through the door they are directed toward, they’re greeted by a spacious private room housing a large circular wooden tub half-encircled by a raised floor. Numerous kinds of lotions and soaps sit neatly displayed on a nearby shelf along with various bowls and plush-looking towels.

“Now that’s a bath,” Hakoda says, letting out an impressed whistle. He looks around for a moment and then finds some matches, using them to light the rest of the various lanterns strewn about the room. “Go on, beauty before age.”

“It’s more than big enough for the both of us,” Bato comments, stomach flipping at the thought of Hakoda finding him beautiful.

Hakoda makes a shooing motion and Bato eventually concedes, though not before shooting him a confused look. Bato starts to undress but finds himself feeling uncharacteristically shy. Not because he’s embarrassed about his body, Hakoda has never made him feel different or wrong for the uniqueness others find strange and unnatural. But because all of the previous times Bato had been under the impression that Hakoda harbored nothing but platonic feelings for him.

Now, he wonders if Hakoda ever found himself staring that one second too long as Bato so often did. He wonders if Hakoda ever had to stop himself from reaching out to touch him, tan skin dripping with seawater. He wonders if signs of mutual attraction have been there for years but he just didn’t let himself hope long enough to see them.

Hakoda stops his task of rifling through the various toiletries to look his way and Bato feels rooted to the spot, hands frozen with his tunic tugged halfway down his body. His breath stutters in his chest as he takes in the intensity of Hakoda’s gaze before it just as quickly darts away.

Taking his tunic the rest of the way off, he carefully folds it and then lays it on one of the steps leading up to the bath. He takes a few cautious steps towards Hakoda, his voice gentle and encouraging as he says, “It’s okay, Koda. You can look.”

Hakoda fumbles as he nearly drops something he was holding and Bato can’t help the small laugh that escapes his lips. Placing everything carefully back on the shelf, Hakoda turns fully towards him, his bottom lip bit between his teeth.

Heart hammering in his chest, Bato steps in close, reaching a hand out to cradle Hakoda’s cheek. “I want you to look.”

Hakoda stares up at him, gaze intense and yearning for something that for once is within reach. He shuts his eyes for a moment, his voice unsteady as he says, “I feel like I’m at a disadvantage here. You’ve had years to study all of my weaknesses.”

Bato hums in thought for a moment and then smiles slyly. “Maybe not all of them. Not yet anyway.” Leaning in the rest of the way, Bato pulls Hakoda in for a languid kiss. Unlike their first kiss, this time they’re able to take their time and relax into it.

Hakoda’s hands draw him forward by the waist and Bato has to reel them both back in before they get distracted from their main objective. “We’ll never make it back to the room if you keep distracting me like this, though.”

Hakoda scoffs and then gives him a gentle push toward the bath. “Oh, sure. Like I’m the one distracting you and not the other way around.”

“Are you going to look this time?” Bato teases, sliding his pants off so that he’s only in his loincloth and the snug strip of cloth he keeps wrapped around his chest.

“It’s not fair. You know I get all flustered around beautiful people.”

A pleased flush spreads through Bato’s cheeks and down his neck to his chest. Discarding his final layers of clothing, Bato finally steps into the steaming tub. With a blissful sigh, he sinks into the water until it comes up to his chin. “You don’t have to flatter me, Hakoda.”

Arms full of various bath products, Hakoda makes his way over to the tub, climbing the stairs to sit on the floor directly behind Bato’s head. “I mean it. I really do find you beautiful. If you’re comfortable with me saying so.”

Leaning his head back against Hakoda’s shins, Bato basks in the warm feeling flooding through him from his words. Fighting against the fragile part of him that every now and then still struggles to feel beautiful in his body, Bato nods. “Yes.”

A tentative hand finds its way to the top of Bato’s head, stroking his hair for a moment before tugging at the cord currently tying part of it back. “I’d also like to wash your hair, if you’d let me.”

“Please.” The quiet plea comes out easier than he thought it would, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Lips press against his hair, parting to whisper a gentle ‘of course’. With one more tug, he pulls out the hair tie and begins carding his fingers through his hair, carefully undoing any tangles he encounters.

Bato lets himself sit for a long moment, enjoying each soothing pass of his fingers. Eventually, Hakoda nudges him up and a little forward, one hand tilting his head back while the other scoops a bowl into the warm water.

And suddenly Bato is reminded why he never gave in and let Hakoda do anything like this in the past. What should be a completely innocent movement has Bato’s mind straying into vastly different territory. He tries (and fails miserably) to not feel embarrassed about how sensitive his body is, his nerves bursting to life everywhere Hakoda touches him. Though he supposes that’s what he gets for pining after the same previously unattainable man his whole life.

Hakoda pours the water over his hair and Bato’s overactive brain finally quiets down a little, too distracted by the heavenly warmth. Once completely soaked, strong fingers begin massaging some kind of sudsy soap that smells like cinnamon into his hair. The gentle scrape of blunt fingernails against his scalp makes him shiver pleasantly.

“I remember when you and Kya both used to let Katara play with your hair,” Hakoda says, laughing to himself.

Bato joins him, though with a slight cringe. “She wasn’t always quite as gentle as you are, unfortunately. I had to ask Kya for help untangling my hair on multiple occasions.”

“Guess we’ll know who to blame if you start balding prematurely.”

“It’ll be that or the stress of taking care of six reckless kids. Seven if I’m counting you.”

“Someone has to keep you on your Ba-toes.”

“You are actually the worst.”

“Aww come on. You love my jokes.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Bato says, failing to contain a fond smile. Of course he loves his stupid jokes, not that he plans to admit that to Hakoda anytime soon. He loves the childish glee that takes over Hakoda’s face and his look of triumph anytime someone groans in disbelief at whatever ridiculous thing just came out of his mouth.

Hakoda works more soap into his hair, growing quiet as he seems to ponder something. Eventually, he admits, “I always thought the braids suited you, even the messy ones.”

Bato’s face heats up, and not just because Hakoda chooses that exact moment to pour warm water over him again. Thinking back on it, a memory leaps out at him and he can’t help wondering. “I remember you would get this look on your face. I never quite knew what it meant, though.”

“I’m not sure I did either. I always thought…” Hakoda trails off, hands stilling for a moment.

Bato hums questioningly, urging him to continue.

“I always thought fatherhood suited you,” He finishes quietly.

“Oh,” Is Bato’s strained response, a lump lodging itself in his throat.

“Seeing you with the kids. With Kya. I would always get this feeling in my chest. Like everything was as it should be and I was the luckiest man in the world.” His hands start moving again, rubbing more soap into Bato’s hair using slow circular motions and then washing it out again. “Or maybe a selfish one for keeping you all to myself.”

It’s a topic they haven’t touched on in awhile, but one of the first things Bato came to terms with at a surely-too-young age was the fact he would never be able to have biological kids of his own. Not only because his gaze always strayed towards the men of his tribe, but because he physiologically couldn’t. Because when puberty hit his body, growth spurts and body hair weren’t his only worries. Because when he was only ten years old he had to fake an injury to justify the way he started covering the extra breast tissue that was developing on his chest.

The women who aided in his birth weren’t even sure he would live that long, unsure if this was some kind of blessing or curse from the spirits.

He still remembers the day he finally decided to tell Kya and Hakoda the real story behind his so-called injury. How the midwives hadn’t been entirely sure what to make of his anatomy. How ashamed and confused he felt growing up while never fully relating to any of his peers, male or female.

When all was said and done, his best friends hadn’t hesitated before crushing him in a warm hug. Making them the first people in Bato’s life to offer nothing but kindness and support in response to finding out. Hakoda made some joke about how that’s why they were the perfect trio, because Bato balanced them out. Kya asked if he was still okay being called Bato and if there was anything she could do to help or support him. And for the first time, Bato felt truly seen and understood.

Reaching behind him now, Bato grabs one of Hakoda’s hands and pulls it down to rest on his shoulder, their fingers entwined. Hakoda’s other hand runs through his hair once more before pushing it to one side and draping it over the opposite shoulder. He then lets his hand rest on the back of Bato’s neck, his thumb brushing along the soft hair right at the nape.

Bato’s breath hitches at the contact and he faintly wonders if, despite previously claiming to be at a disadvantage, Hakoda has already clocked one of his weaknesses so quickly. His next words come out as barely more than a whisper. “Is it selfish to keep a man exactly where he wants to be?”

Hakoda chuckles warmly. “Hmm. No, I guess not.”

Bringing their joined hands to his mouth, Bato tries not to feel embarrassed as he plants a kiss on the top of Hakoda’s hand. “I know you worry sometimes that you kept me from expanding out to create a family of my own. But hopefully you understand now that I never needed to because I had already found mine. I knew which people my heart would always belong to, those who saw and accepted me just as I was, and made peace with that knowledge a long time ago. So no, you’re not selfish.”

The tickle of Hakoda’s hair against his skin is Bato’s only warning before he feels lips press where his neck slopes into the curve of his shoulder. He pulls back just enough to murmur, “’Luckiest man in the world’ it is, then.”

“Sap.” Bato’s heart hammers in his chest and he wonders if Hakoda can feel his pulse under his lips. Heat coils in his stomach and he starts to find it harder to hide the unevenness of his breaths.

“Mhm.” Hakoda smiles against his neck. “And here I was, worried I might’ve gotten a little rusty in the romance department.”

“Says the man who thought serenading a girl from outside of her house was peak romance.”

“I was sixteen! Besides, it got me a date with her, didn’t it?”

“Shockingly.”

“You only say that because I haven’t serenaded you yet. Now then, what song should I sing…”

Bato whips around to plead with him, face flushing preemptively. “Please don’t-”

“Oh, what was that one we heard on that Earth Kingdom port?” Hakoda kneels on one knee, one hand to his chest and the other outstretched towards Bato. In a deep voice, he starts to sing with the tone-deaf bravado of a street performer. “My heart is pierced by cupid, I disdain all glittering gold-”

“Hakoda I swear-”

“There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor…” Bakoda looks like he’s fighting back a grin and Bato groans.

“Don’t you dare-”

“Bato!” He holds out the last syllable for as long as he can and then clenches his outstretched hand into a fist, glancing at Bato imploringly like he’s waiting for a score.

Bato splashes him with water, beginning to laugh in spite of himself.

“Hey! You’ll get my clothes wet!”

“Oh dear, what a shame. Then you might have to take them off,” Bato says, sounding mock-scandalized.

“Have I successfully woo’d you then? Oh, great Bato of the Southern Water Tribe?”

Bato rolls his eyes and then drags him in for a kiss he can’t help smiling into. “Something like that.”

Bato and Hakoda make their way back to their room about an hour later, refreshed and wrapped in red (of course) robes they managed to find in a cabinet near the towels. It doesn’t take long for them to get lost again, however, and they’re forced to ask for directions from the same guard. All the while Bato tries to ignore how immodest he feels in his borrowed robe that barely covers his unwrapped chest and isn’t quite long enough to fit his tall frame, leaving the majority of his legs exposed.

Back in their room once more, Hakoda makes a bee-line for the bed and flops forward onto it with a sigh, while Bato tosses their old clothes on a chair nearby to be put back on in the morning.

“I’m not sure how to feel about you wearing red,” Bato comments. “It feels wrong, somehow.”

Hakoda glances at him from the bed, giving him a deliberate once-over before smirking. “Well, I like my view.”

“Oh, shut up,” Bato says good-naturedly, climbing under the bed covers before he can start feeling any more self-conscious. “I’m sure I’ve seen Fire Nation citizens taller than me.”

“Maybe they just like showing off a little bit of leg,” Hakoda teases.

“Please, the royal family probably thinks it’s improper to show your ankles let alone anything higher.”

Hakoda snorts. He sits up to climb under the covers himself and then freezes. “Oh, wait! I almost forgot I grabbed this for you.” He reaches into a pocket on his robe and produces an unfamiliar jar with a Fire Nation label on it.

Bato takes it, examining the label with confusion for a moment. Hakoda flips it around so the backside is facing him and Bato feels dangerously close to crying when he realizes it’s a type of moisturizing burn cream.

“I figure if anyone’s gonna have the good stuff, it’s the hotheads who go shooting fireballs all over the place.” Hakoda looks away, seeming slightly awkward. “I know your burns haven’t been bothering you as much recently. But you also didn’t have any in that prison cell, not to mention the dehydration, and the invasion itself probably irritated them beforehand-”

One part endeared and two parts overwhelmed by the amount of attention and care in his gesture, Bato can’t help leaning over to press a kiss to his temple. “Thank you, love.”

Hakoda smiles almost bashfully in response. “I think I could get used to hearing you call me that.”

Bato’s stomach swoops. He didn’t even realize the term of endearment had slipped out until Hakoda brought attention to it. Now all he can wonder is what other names he can get away with calling him after so many years of locking such affections away.

There’s a couple he knows without asking are off limits, like sweetie and honey. Those will always belong to Kya and would feel like stepping on something sacred were he to use them. But that still leaves him with plenty of options and a part of him starts to feel giddy at the prospect of getting to discover which other ones he is allowed to use.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how cute you look when you get all flustered like this, love,” Bato teases, leaning forward to get a better look at him.

Hakoda immediately hides his face in his hands. “Fuck, wait, I take it back.”

“You sure? I mean, I guess I can always call you something else. What do you think, dear?” Bato gently pulls Hakoda’s hands away from his face and watches, fascinated, as his cheeks grow pinker with each addition. “How about babe or baby? Or maybe darling?”

“I think you’re getting distracted from the much more important task at hand, darling,” Hakoda says, tapping the jar of burn cream in his hand and blatantly avoiding the question.

Bato laughs affectionately, heart full to bursting from him returning the endearment, albeit mockingly.

Opening the jar, Bato tests a swipe of it on his hand and is pleasantly surprised by how it cools and soothes his skin without leaving a filmy residue like other similar lotions. Encouraged, he goes to dip his fingers in again but hesitates when he feels Hakoda’s eyes watching him.

When he looks up to meet his gaze, it’s like he’s back in Hakoda’s tent those first few weeks after his return from the Abbey. Hakoda had been like a mother turtle-duck with how rarely he let him out of his sight. And almost every night, he had offered to help apply his burn cream for him. It got to a point where Bato almost felt offended, thinking surely it was because Hakoda thought he was incapable. But after enough sleepless nights, he grew to realize it was out of fear of losing him again. A fierce protectiveness born from years of love and loss. The human instinct to take care of and ease the pain of those you hold dear.

Bato realizes with a start that if Hakoda asks him again tonight, he knows for certain not a single bone in his body will be able to refuse. And perhaps even more daunting is the realization that he doesn’t want to anymore. Tonight, he doesn’t have to refuse.

He feels sick with nerves, anxiety lancing through his body like a shock of lightning. And suddenly the intimacy of washing each other's hair and sharing a bath, of fleeting kisses and ‘I love you’s, feels inconsequential in comparison, though he’s not entirely sure why.

Maybe because this is the one thing Hakoda has offered to do for him on multiple occasions that Bato has never let himself indulge in. Too scared of how an act of such domestic intimacy might tear his heart to shreds. Scared of how those hands would feel caressing his marred flesh, not because they had to but because they wanted to. A taste of a life that couldn’t possibly ever be his. One where he could map out the planes of Hakoda’s body in return. One where he wouldn’t have to use the excuse of nightmares to pull Hakoda close as they lie in bed together.

Maybe because if he lets him do this, the possibility of such a life being his for the taking finally becomes real and attainable. Everything he’s denied himself. Everything he’s ever been ashamed of wanting, and wanted, wanted, wanted, regardless.

The question ‘would you like to?’ lodges itself in his throat painfully, refusing to leave his mouth and finally put an end to his yearning once and for all.

Hakoda breaks the eye contact to stare at his lap, raising his hands in defense. “S-sorry, I won’t look if you don’t want me too.”

“No I-” Bato’s throat seizes up before he can get anything else out and he wants to cry with frustration. Accepting that words seem to be adamant about failing him, he fights through the slight tremor in his body that he only just now notices to wordlessly hold the jar out towards Hakoda instead.

Hakoda looks back at him questioningly at first so Bato makes a point of looking at the jar in his hand until his gaze follows. His eyes snap back to Bato’s, his expression now one of awed disbelief.

“Do you want to?” Bato’s voice sounds shaky and strained, but he powers through, nudging the jar fully into his hands this time.

“Is that okay?”

“I want you to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please.”

Bato says it so quietly he worries that he didn’t hear him at first, but then Hakoda gives his hand a squeeze, whispering, “Of course, love. Of course.” He takes a moment to situate them both on the bed, making absolute sure Bato is comfortable before carefully taking his arm in his hands. He moves to slide off the shoulder of his robe but stops, fingers gripping the fabric but not moving it. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” Yes, yes, yes.

Calloused fingers slip under the robe to push it down his shoulder and it’s somehow better and so much worse than he’s ever imagined. Strong yet gentle hands guide his arm out of the sleeve, letting one half of the robe fall open so that he’s left exposed from the waist up.

Bato once again finds himself feeling more indecent now than he did when he wasn’t wearing any clothes at all. A feeling which certainly isn’t helped by Hakoda’s stare growing more intense as more skin is revealed. He resists the urge to fidget under Hakoda’s scrutiny as his brain unhelpfully suggests that surely he’s staring because he’s grossed out or because his chest is uncovered.

Hakoda takes Bato’s hand in his own and then uses the other to start applying the cream to his scarred skin. Starting from the tips of his fingers, Hakoda works his way up his arm, slow and meticulous. His movements grow impossibly gentler the closer he gets to the worst of it along his shoulder, where constant movement keeps it the most agitated and tender. Here is where Bato is the most thankful for the cream’s cooling properties as it eases the dull throb he’s begrudgingly grown accustomed to.

But then his thoughts stray towards his time at the Abbey and bile rises in his throat. His recovery had been an excruciating one, punctuated by long days where he was so sick with pain and loneliness he couldn’t eat, and even longer nights. Ones where he couldn’t fall asleep without help from the Sisters’ remedies. Even then he was still plagued by feverish nightmares, horrible amalgamations of real memories and twisted fabrications of his mind. He can still remember some of the more vivid ones. The very real smell of his own burning flesh, everything suffocating and hot, waking up in a blind panic to wrinkled hands pressing cool rags against his forehead.

When Hakoda reaches the muscles surrounding the joint of his shoulder, Bato flinches, instinctively squirming away from his touch.

“Sorry, I’m not hurting you, am I?” Hakoda asks, pulling his hands back immediately.

“No, no. You’re fine. It’s just-” Bato forces himself to take a deep breath and tries his best to relax. He didn’t even think about the possibility of triggering memories of the only other people to touch his wounds like this and now regrets not doing a better job of mentally preparing himself before letting Hakoda start.

As it stands, the damage is already done. Try as he might, his breathing isn’t slowing down and he thinks his body is trembling again, if it ever stopped in the first place.

“Fuck, sorry, I-” Everything is too much all at once and his lungs feel like they’re being stabbed with knives as he fights for air. He starts to feel lightheaded as he struggles to get words out. “I didn’t think it would-”

Thankfully, Hakoda is no stranger to Bato having similar episodes and is quick to grab his hands, providing him with a much-needed anchor to reality. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Bato’s first instinct is to shove the memories away as quickly as humanly possible but he resists the urge. Regardless of how much it massively sucks, he knows from past experience that he can’t force anything and just needs to ride out the feeling until it dissipates.

Fighting against the alarms blaring in his head that he’s in danger and is definitelygoing to die, he focuses his attention on the world around him.

The familiar tones of Hakoda’s soothing voice as he whispers endless encouragement. The way Hakoda’s thumbs feel as they rub along his knuckles. The softness of the bed under him. The dampness of his hair against his back and neck. The smell of cinnamon soap. The sound of Hakoda’s breathing. And finally the sound of his own breathing.

“That’s right. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

When he tries to take a deep breath this time, it still stutters but not as badly.

He feels Hakoda shift on the bed and finally opens his eyes to see him moving to sit against the headboard with his arms open in invitation. Not needing to be asked twice, Bato curls into his side, face nestled in the crook of his neck and arms snaking around his torso in a desperate vice grip.

He’s not sure when he started crying.

Hakoda wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls Bato against him just as tightly, planting a kiss on the top of his head before resting his cheek there. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m right here, Bato. I’m not letting go.”

With that, Bato finally breaks and weak sniffles turn into hiccuping, full-body sobs. His chest feels like it’s splintering, but Hakoda is right there to hold him tight and start piecing him back together.

“I know, love. I know.” Hakoda brings a hand up to cradle the back of Bato’s head. “Let it out, it’s okay. You’re doing so well. I’m right here.”

Bato brings his full attention to Hakoda. The feeling of blunt fingernails against his scalp as Hakoda cards his fingers carefully through his hair. The deliberately slow rise and fall of his chest, his lungs expanding and deflating, the beat of his heart. All almost lulling him to sleep.

It’s a frustratingly long time until Bato starts to feel fully present again, lungs aching and head pounding with a blooming headache. He’s left feeling like a waterskin that’s been squeezed dry.

“You still awake down there?” Hakoda asks, gently jostling him in his arms.

Bato hums in confirmation.

“You okay if I get up and get us some water?”

A fragile part of him wants to cry please don’t let go!, but the logical part of his brain that knows the water will help him feel better wins out. Sucking in a breath, Bato nods and then starts the process of extracting himself from Hakoda’s arms. Once untangled from each other, Bato tries not to think about how much of a mess he must look right now, eyes red and face blotchy.

Hakoda’s hands come up to cradle either side of Bato’s face, wiping away any stray tears. He gazes at him with unfiltered adoration as he leans forward to kiss him, first on the lips and then on the forehead. “I love you so much.” He lingers for a moment longer and then rolls off the bed, making his way toward a nearby table.

Bato takes a moment to sit back against the headboard of the bed and breathe, checking in with his mind and body as best he can. From what he can tell, the storm seems to have passed for the night, his previous panic quelled by the warmth of Hakoda’s love and care so generously displayed tonight.

The sound of something being poured brings his attention back to Hakoda who returns to the bed with a cup in each hand. “Looks like water. Smells like water. Here’s hoping I’m not about to poison both of us,” He says, earning a small laugh from Bato that brings a relieved smile to his face.

Bato accepts the cup Hakoda hands him gratefully, taking a long drink and already feeling immensely better. “Hmm. Definitely poison. Oh well, at least now I won’t die having never told the love of my life how I feel.”

“We still have time before the poison kicks in if you want to, you know, tell him more about that,” Hakoda says with a smirk, sitting back on the bed and slinging an arm around Bato’s shoulders. “Any final words for the love of your life? Before it’s too late?”

Bato scoffs, leaning into him. “That’s awfully presumptuous of you.” He pretends to think for a moment and then pulls Hakoda in for a kiss as sweet as sugar. “I think I’d start with ‘thank you’.” He leans in for another, this one deep and filled with all the things Bato isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to put into words. “And ‘I love you too’.”

“With a goodbye like that, I’d die a very happy man,” Hakoda says warmly, a pleased flush taking over his features. He leans over to plant a kiss on Bato’s shoulder. “For now though…” He drags his lips up Bato’s neck, kissing his jaw. “I’d like to keep living a very happy man, if that’s alright with you.”

“If you’ll let me do the same.”

Hakoda grins. “Nothing would make me happier.”

They settle against each other, fingers entwined as they share a comfortable moment of silence. Then, Bato stubbornly decides he wants to let Hakoda try again. He feels around the bed for the burn cream and offers it to him again, cutting off his immediate protests. “I’ll be fine as long as I don’t let my mind wander again. Just…”

“Keep you grounded in the present?” Hakoda finishes for him.

“Talk to me, touch me, remind me it’s you.”

Hakoda smirks, voice dipping lower as he says, “I can do that.” He slides one hand behind Bato’s head and then uses it to pull him into a kiss that sparks a flame in his body once more. Using his other hand, Hakoda unties the belt holding his own robe closed. “Seems only fair.”

“Any chance to show off,” Bato teases, admittedly touched by the gesture. Hakoda must read his ingrained hesitance to reach out and touch him because he grabs his hands and places them around his waist for him.

“I’m just doing what you asked,” He says, feigning innocence as he swings a leg over Bato’s lap and settles on his thighs.

“This is certainly one way to do it,” Bato says, feeling hopelessly aroused and amused at the same time. He finally lets his fingers move curiously over Hakoda’s skin, dancing lightly over his ribs before gripping his waist more securely. He can feel the heat radiating off of him in waves, the weight of him solid and reassuring.

This time, Hakoda rubs the burn cream into his skin even slower, starting again from his fingertips. Working one section at a time, he meticulously massages each muscle and joint until he’s satisfied and then moves onto the next. When he gets to his shoulder again, he catches Bato’s gaze and waits for him to nod before continuing. “Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“You can press harder, actually,” Bato encourages, taking Hakoda’s hand and maneuvering his fingers to show him exactly how much. When Hakoda gets the hang of it, Bato lets his hands fall to Hakoda’s thighs with a blissful sigh, the tight skin and muscle of his arm gradually becoming more malleable under his skillful hands. “Perfect, just like that. I didn’t realize it’d gotten so stiff again.”

Bato closes his eyes and takes a slow breath, relieved when it doesn’t catch in his chest. His heartrate is still elevated, but he knows that’s mostly due to his nearness to Hakoda. Little by little, his anxious nerves give way to contented ones and keeping himself in the present becomes a much easier task.

The muscles in Hakoda’s thighs shift under Bato’s hands and he wonders if they’re starting to cramp up from their position on either side of him. A selfish part of him is loath to suggest he move.

Hakoda finishes spreading the cream over his shoulder, fingers now trailing along the splotches of red that extend toward his collarbone. He draws an outline and then smiles to himself. “This one looks like an otter-penguin.”

Bato gives him an unimpressed look, craning his neck so he can look down at whatever he’s pointing at. Hakoda traces it again and Bato laughs in disbelief. “If it was drawn by a three-year-old maybe.”

“I dub thee, Bato Jr,” Hakoda says, leaning forward to kiss the debatably otter-penguin shaped scar.

Bato lets out a begrudgingly-endeared sigh.

Seeming to take his reaction as encouragement, Hakoda points out another patch of red. “And this one looks like a boomerang.”

“Are you going to name that one too?” Bato says dryly as Hakoda kisses the second mark.

“Hmm…” Hakoda looks deep in thought for a moment and then pouts. “I can’t think of a good pun with your name and Batorang just sounds silly.”

“And Spirit’s forbid we give it a silly name.”

Hakoda leans back, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. “I’m starting to get the feeling you’re not taking this as seriously as I am.”

“Okay, okay. How about Boomer-Aang?” Bato offers and Hakoda grins.

“I’ve trained you well.”

Appeased, Hakoda slides off of him with a grunt, landing on Bato’s left side while keeping one leg slung over his lap. He opens the burn cream again and starts working on the back of Bato’s shoulder. Then, with one last over-exaggerated kiss to his scarred skin, Hakoda says, “All better!” As if to a child after kissing their boo-boo.

Bato laughs. “Thank you, dear.”

“You’re very welcome.” Hakoda trails a finger along the scarring farthest back, the portion Bato swears is more sensitive than the rest because he’s always struggled to reach it without help. Hakoda grows quiet and Bato braces himself for the inevitable question he’s been avoiding.

“I always wondered why you wouldn’t let me do this for you.”

And there it is, the question Bato’s not sure where to even begin to start answering. He hums in thought, trying to buy himself some time as his cheeks tingle with embarrassment.

“You’ve always been so self-sufficient, even to a fault. I never knew how to ask without feeling like I was risking hurting your pride.”

“You still asked though. Almost every night.”

“Of course I did.”

“I wanted to say yes.” Bato says it to the air in front of him, too much of a coward to look at Hakoda just yet. “Every single time.”

Hakoda’s hands still for a moment. He’s quiet again as he slides the sleeve of Bato’s robe back into place, arms snaking around his waist to fix the robe’s belt and then staying there. Hooking his chin over Bato’s shoulder, he pulls him flush against him in a sort of sideways hug.

“Why didn’t you?” Hakoda asks, sounding curious but also a little sad.

Bato rests his hands over Hakoda’s clasped ones, filled with a similar sort of sorrow for his past self. “I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

Words start pouring out of him as he draws strength from Hakoda’s support and finally being honest, not only with Hakoda but also with himself. “I was scared of my own feelings. The vulnerability. The intimacy I didn’t feel belonged to me. Scared that if I said yes I would only want to selfishly ask for more.”

“Like what?” Hakoda asks and Bato finally looks at him, helplessly drawn in by his fiercely determined expression. “What would a selfish Bato ask for?”

“This.” Bato leans into Hakoda’s embrace, one hand shyly reaching out to touch his sternum and then sliding down to his stomach. Hakoda sucks in a startled breath that gets trapped in his lungs as Bato then indulgently feels back up his chest and down his shoulder blade.

“And this.” Taking advantage of the leg still draped over his lap, Bato slides his other hand up to tease along his inner thigh. Hakoda’s mouth parts as his breathing grows heavier, giving Bato the perfect opportunity to lean in and kiss him deeply.

“He would ask you to hold him when he wants it, not just when he needs it. He would ask to be allowed to hold you in return. He would ask to do your hair every morning and wash it for you at night.”

“Yes. What else?” Hakoda says breathlessly, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“He would-“ Bato tries to hold the shame at bay but feels his grip slipping, throat closing up once more as he fights back tears.

Hakoda’s eyes soften with understanding, fingers stroking Bato’s waist tenderly. “You’re allowed to have this, love.”

I am allowed to have this.

“You’re allowed to want things and to ask for them.”

I am allowed to want things and ask for them.

“I want to give you everything I can.” Hakoda gives him a gentle squeeze, cheeks turning the slightest bit pink. “So tell me, what else?”

Maintaining the loop of reassurances now in his brain, Bato musters up his courage enough to continue. “A selfish Bato would ask you to help him apply his burn cream every day and he would-“

I am allowed to have this. I am allowed to want things and ask for them.

“I would ask you to do it all for the rest of our lives.”

Hakoda stares up at him in awe and Bato can’t find it in himself to regret possibly saying way too much way too soon. He’s waited too long for this to start getting embarrassed about his feelings now. Which turns out to be the right decision as Hakoda’s shock quickly morphs into something soft and affectionate.

“See? Not so selfish after all. Those sound like reasonable demands to me anyway, ones I am more than ready to meet.” His tone turns teasing. “Though you could at least make me a betrothal necklace first.”

Bato groans, hiding his face in Hakoda’s shoulder as he laughs at him good-naturedly. The more he thinks about it though, the more he grows attached to the idea of Hakoda wearing something he made him, marking them as part of a matched set. A symbol to the world that they belong together. “Would you want me to? You know I’m terrible at carving.”

“I think I would, if you’d let me make you something too.” Hakoda says it slowly like he’s never thought about the possibility before but, similarly to Bato, finds himself liking the sound of it.

“As long as it’s not a poorly drawn otter-penguin.”

“Obviously not. Any otter-penguin I carved for you would be intricately detailed and of the highest quality.”

“Obviously.” Bato smiles, leaning in to kiss him and reveling in how easy it is to do so. When they’re both sufficiently breathless and warm with affection, Hakoda pulls away long enough to climb under the covers and curl into Bato’s side like a clingy koala-otter.

After a moment, curiosity gets the better of Bato and he can’t help asking, “What about you? What would a selfish Hakoda ask for?”

Hakoda doesn’t even stop to think before saying, “I would ask you to never leave my side.”

Bato reaches for Hakoda’s hand and brings it to his chest, pulling him impossibly closer as a wave of peace and belonging washes over him. Unable to think of a single place he would rather be than where he is right now, Bato hums contentedly. “Then by your side is where I will stay.”