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Sokka had been vaguely aware that Zuko could wield swords before they started dating. It was one of those things that had come up at some point, and Sokka had filed it away in the back of his mind. But, over time, he’d forgotten. Until he’d seen the pair of broadswords hanging on the wall. Then it had all come rushing back, along with a sense of intense curiosity.
It had only taken Sokka reminding Zuko that he, too, had learned how to wield a sword during the war, and the next thing he knew, they were standing in the courtyard, each with swords in hand as they prepared to spar.
Sokka had prided himself on learning how to wield a sword, but he hadn’t actually held one since he’d lost his meteorite sword, a loss that stuck with him years later. The sword that Zuko had leant him from the royal armory was a similar size and shape, but it wasn’t the same.
Zuko, on the other hand, had his own personal swords. He gripped them in a familiar way that instantly made Sokka’s stomach tighten.
Somehow, he hadn’t grasped how attractive swordfighting Zuko would be until he was confronted with it face-to-face.
It didn’t help that Zuko had taken his shirt off for the sparring session, which Sokka hadn’t anticipated. His cheeks warmed, and he was glad that the servants had left them alone for this. Zuko was in his element as he familiarized himself with the swords again, almost as if he’d forgotten that Sokka was there.
He went through several forms, swishing his swords easily through the air. Sokka’s mouth was dry, and his knees were weak. While Zuko was always attractive, there was something particularly impressive about seeing him in his element like this. It did something to Sokka that not even seeing Zuko firebend had done.
It was overwhelming in every sense of the word. If he had to stand there, looking at him for a second longer, he’d combust. There was no way he’d be able to fight him, no matter how light-hearted it was.
His sword slipped from his grip, and Sokka stumbled backwards. He needed air—air that wasn’t the courtyard’s air, apparently—and he needed water. It was foolish, really, that they hadn’t brought any with them. If he had water, maybe he could actually make it through this.
With a cooler head, he would have said something to Zuko before he fled, but he was far from cool-headed. He stumbled out of the courtyard and down the nearest hallway, nearly tripping over his feet as he went.
Sokka really had planned to get some water and go back, but then he’d made several turns down the palace halls, and he still hadn’t been able to get the image of Zuko out of his mind. Zuko swinging the swords with ease. Zuko’s muscles flexing as he exerted himself. Zuko looking confident and capable in a way that Sokka had never quite achieved with his own sword skills.
There was no way they could practice together. Sokka would never be able to focus on anything except Zuko.
Of course, he was never going to stay hidden long. He’d fled with no explanation. He knew Zuko would follow. He collapsed against a wall, willing his heart to stop racing, and Zuko rounded the corner not even a minute later. Still shirtless, Sokka’s brain helpfully pointed out.
Zuko’s brow was creased in concern as he approached. “Sokka, are you okay?”
Sokka stuttered for a second. His brain still hadn’t caught up with the situation. “No.”
That wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but it hung in the air between them. Zuko’s frown deepened. He looked at Sokka for a minute, from his flushed cheeks to the way his eyes kept drifting unwittingly down to Zuko’s abdomen. Zuko’s eyes widened in realization. Sokka looked away, his cheeks ablaze.
“Oh,” was the only response Zuko could manage at first.
There was no use beating around the bush anymore.
“You’re very attractive when you handle a sword,” Sokka said. He made eye contact with Zuko, and his stomach tightened.
Zuko was stiff and suddenly awkward in his movements. “Thank you,” he said, his voice strained. Somehow, he managed a smirk. “I’m sure you would be too if you had let me see you.”
The tips of Sokka’s fingers tug into the stone wall behind him. “I don’t know if I could manage it with you looking at me.”
Just the thought of it—him handling the sword while Zuko watched, his thoughts possibly drifting in the same direction Sokka’s had—was enough to make him want to combust. Zuko visibly swallowed.
“I could see how that would be a problem.”
Sokka glanced down at Zuko’s hands, realizing for the first time that he didn’t have his swords with him.
“I left them in the courtyard,” he said sheepishly, glancing over his shoulder. “Probably not the best idea.”
“It does seem to go against safety protocol,” Sokka noted with a sharp nod.
Zuko grunted in agreement. They continued to stare at each other, neither making a move to go back to the courtyard. A palace servant could have easily walked by, and neither of them would have noticed.
Sokka wasn’t sure what he wanted. He wanted to see Zuko practicing again, but it felt indecent to do it out in the courtyard where anyone could see when he knew what effect it would have on him.
Zuko took a step closer, and Sokka’s heart sped up.
“I have a suggestion for something we could do that isn’t sword fighting,” he said in a low voice.
Sokka swallowed. “Yes, please.”