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“Like that?” Zuko looked dubiously down at the drawing Sokka had shoved into his hands.
“Yeah,” Sokka said, squirming impatiently.
“And you want me to do this…?” Zuko trailed off, gesturing at Sokka with the drawing still clenched in his hand. It wasn’t that he was nervous about messing this up, but it wasn’t like he’d ever had a reason to apply warpaint before.
“…because we don’t exactly carry a mirror around and when we face down the Fire Lord I plan on representing the Southern Water Tribe right,” Sokka said, chest puffing up proudly. “And if we don’t have a mirror now, we probably won’t have one then. You gotta practice.”
“Right,” Zuko glared down at the drawing, then back up at Sokka. “Why me?” he asked, fully aware that the words came out as a whine.
“Aang can’t sit still long enough, Katara sucks at drawing, Suki is allergic, and Toph is blind,” Sokka rattled off. “Believe me, you aren’t my first choice either, Jerkbender.”
“Great, that makes this better,” Zuko grumbled, dipping his fingers into the pot of grey paint. It was soft and slick between his fingers, shining dully as it coated them.
“Get your ass over here,” Sokka said, leaning forward expectantly and closing his eyes. Zuko stared at him for a second, at the way he was so openly trusting of him, and swallowed thickly. The Boiling Rock had been quite a bonding experience, but he’d never thought he’d reach a point where Sokka could rest easy knowing Zuko was this close by and unseen.
He shuffled forward on his knees and swiped his thumb gently across Sokka’s forehead, leaving a long streak of iridescent grey in its wake. He dipped his fingers back into the little pot, rubbing the paint methodically into Sokka’s skin, up to his hairline and down the bridge of his nose, across his cheekbones, to his temples.
He jumped a little when Sokka made a little noise and jerked into the touch. “What—?” his hands stilled, fingers still resting at Sokka’s temple. “Did I poke you?”
“No, it felt good,” Sokka said, completely unabashed, not even opening his eyes. “Keep going.”
“Right,” Zuko spread the paint across Sokka’s upper lip, finger tracing the line of it delicately. Sokka bit into the lower one, drawing it between his teeth so that it glistened wetly. Zuko watched, mesmerized, as it popped free, wondering what it would be like to slide a finger into the slick interior of his mouth, for Sokka to scrape teeth across his skin…
“Zuko, I think you got my lip covered,” Sokka said, jarring him out of his daze. His eyelids twitched a little, and Zuko wondered whether he was rolling his eyes at him. He blushed, trying not to get distracted by the dark cast of Sokka’s lashes against his cheeks.
You’re just a horny teenager, he reminded himself. This is normal—you haven’t seen Mai in a while, you’re just sexually frustrated. The pep talk was not making him feel any better.
He consulted Sokka’s drawing. Dark grey. He picked up the next pot and painted a line across Sokka’s brow, down his nose again, cocking his head to the side when he pulled back to examine his handiwork. It actually didn’t look that bad.
White. He’d held off on that until last for a reason. His fingers coasted up the sharp curve under Sokka’s cheekbone, the skin soft and smooth under his fingers, then down to the groove of his jaw. His chin was easy, the motions repeated on the other side methodically.
“Get my lower lip too,” Sokka whispered, face tilting unconsciously into the cup of Zuko’s palm.
“Right,” Zuko rasped, mouth suddenly dry. He coated his finger again and skimmed it across the plush swell of Sokka’s lip, the spot underneath where shadow fell when he pouted. Not that he’d noticed Sokka pouting. Sokka’s lips parted easily, and a shallow breath gusted out from between them, dancing across Zuko’s skin and making him shiver. His thumb rested at the fullest part of his lip, pulled gently even as his other hand made quick work of the black details to either side of Sokka’s mouth.
He wanted to push that thumb into Sokka’s mouth, to see his lips close around it and suck, his tongue lathing over the tip, his eyes flashing open bright and fierce and full of desire…
He pulled his hand away and Sokka opened his eyes. They were startlingly blue, but darker than he remembered, his pupils wide and intense as they focused on Zuko’s face.
“You have some on you,” Sokka murmured, leaning forward, and Zuko realized he hadn’t backed out of Sokka’s space. He jerked away automatically, but Sokka followed him and reached up, thumbing paint from the corner of his mouth. He lingered there, staring into Zuko’s face, and nothing before had ever felt as warm and precious as the presence of Sokka’s skin on his.
But then Sokka dropped his eyes to Zuko’s hands and the moment broke. “Here,” Sokka held out a rag to clean his hands with, and Zuko pretended not to be disappointed when their hands failed to brush.
He wiped the paint off of himself, hands shaking a little. Sokka was looking at him again, but he didn’t want to raise his face. He could feel it burning from the scrutiny.
“Thanks,” Sokka said at length, packing up the pots of paint. “How does it look?”
Zuko had to look up at that, but Sokka was thoughtfully turned away, staring off toward the direction of the tents.
“Really good,” Zuko said honestly. He almost couldn’t believe he’d done it—Sokka looked like a warrior. If he had to face him again as an opponent he wouldn’t be thrilled by the prospect.
“Thanks,” Sokka said again, moving to stand. He held a hand out to Zuko, who took it and jumped to his feet, letting go quickly. They stood awkwardly for a couple of seconds, not speaking.
“Sokka!” Aang bounded up, Suki close behind, and Zuko was shunted aside. “You look awesome!”
Sokka cut his gaze toward Zuko as Suki sidled up to him, sliding a hand around his waist. “I like the look,” she said lightly, eyes trained appraisingly on Zuko. “You did a good job,” her arm tightened perceptibly around Sokka. “And you,” she turned her attention back to him, “look good enough to—“ she reached up on tiptoe and whispered something in his ear that made his eyes snap wide and slide back to Zuko and away again.
“Right,” he said shortly. “Let’s go do that then. Excellent plan, Suki. Very, um, detailed.”
“Oh good,” she grinned slyly, and they turned, arm in arm, in the direction of the tents.
“Zuko,” she looked back over her shoulder and winked at him. “You coming?”