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Chapter Text

~~

Zuko had spent far too much of his summer dealing with an ever increasing worry about a new roommate. 

Suki had warned him early enough at least, and had even gone out of her way to set him up with someone to sublet her room while she was gone for the year studying abroad, but it did nothing to quell the constant concern. 

Dragons are not known for their ability to adjust easily. 

But the fall semester appears along with a knock at the door, and he manages to shove his instincts to simply tell the person to ‘go away’ to the side long enough to answer. 

And is instantly greeted by the most impossibly pretty man he has ever seen. 

Zuko blinks, taking in the lanky figure of warm brown skin, and a flushed rise to sharp cheekbones as his new housemate raises a hand in greeting. “Hi! Um, Zuko, right?” He reaches between the threshold, inky eyes watching as if to gauge his reaction.

Zuko nods, meeting his handshake and trying to keep his face and tone even. “And you are Sokka.” It is not a question, since he had drilled Suki over and over about exactly who it was she had rented her space to.  

The selkie blinks, a little quirk to his lips in the smallest of smiles as he lets go. “That’s me. Can you show me the room? Then I can get out of your hair. It will be a few trips at least from the truck.” 

It is an easy out, a give of much needed space. 

And Zuko can’t help but wonder if the obvious arms-length distance Sokka keeps between them as he leads him to the unoccupied room is simply general politeness or the visual appearance of a previous lecture. 

He throws a bit of gratitude Suki’s way regardless.

~~

He does not venture out much in the following week, both out of a mild bout of agoraphobia and from how slow he is to adjust to the newness slowly unfolding into his home. 

Zuko avoids his new housemate during the day, which is not difficult as Sokka is normally gone for class while he himself studies almost exclusively online. 

And as much as he wants to grump and gripe about him, he has been nothing but extraordinarily polite, taking up only as much space as is offered. 

Sokka’s things fill the void where Suki’s belongings had been, no more, no less, and it is easier every day to see the presence of him slowly integrate into Zuko’s home. 

A set of keys hung on the little hooks by the door, a worn leather jacket that gets slung over a kitchen chair, strange and intricate seafood dishes that appear in the fridge in neat little containers that never encroach towards Zuko’s side. 

So it is easy for his instincts to slowly calm and recede, allowing him to leave his nest one night after he hears the tell-tale click of a burner being lit in the kitchen. 

Sokka immediately glances up at his approach, shock being covered quickly with a small smile and a nod. “Hey.”

“Hello.” Zuko darts a look at a small bag of groceries on the counter, curiosity already piqued at the smell of butter simmering. “Can I watch?” 

His bluntness doesn’t appear to hit as hard as it usually does to strangers, as Sokka just shrugs a shoulder with a raised brow. “If you like? It is nothing too exciting.” 

Zuko could argue that any true cooking is exciting to him, considering his ongoing war with the microwave, but he just nods and pulls up a barstool at the counter to watch. “You are in culinary school. Second year.” 

Sokka huffs a laugh, turning back towards his groceries and pulling free a few items to toss in a colander and rinse in the sink. “Good to know Suki gave you the driest wikipedia page on me. Yes, I am.” He reaches for a charcoal grey apron hanging from a hook beside the pantry, one that Zuko has slowly grown accustomed to seeing in the past week. “Are you hungry?”

The inky pools of his eyes glance back towards Zuko, fingers deftly tying the strings of his apron as he speaks. 

Zuko’s brows raise, head cocking as he looks at the assortment of salmon and vegetables being prepared, and pointedly ignores the way his mouth waters at the prospect of something other than instant ramen. “I… could be.” 

The laugh that fills the space has no malice or mocking attached, only genuine amusement and warmth as Sokka grins before turning back towards the stove. “Well, good news, I could have an extra plate available.” 

It is wonderfully quiet after that, with nothing but the sizzle of fish in the pan and the scent of lemon and dill and roasting vegetables. Sokka intersperses with the odd question on Zuko’s preferences (of which there are none), and Zuko watches with interest as the entire thing comes together as if by magic. 

Being handed a plate feels almost gift-giving by the time it happens, and Zuko has to stop himself from shredding into the fish with his bare hands the way he badly wants to. And he waits for his body to tense the moment Sokka pulls up the seat next to him, but it never happens. 

Instead it is just… nice. 

It is sitting in comfortable quiet, and putting a fork into the most tender salmon he has ever seen in his life, and trying not to moan like a whore the second he takes a bite.  He does make some sort of noise on the side of pleasure as he immediately grabs a bigger chunk, stuffing it in his mouth as if he has never seen food in his life. 

Social etiquette suddenly reminds him of its presence after a moment, and he does turn to see Sokka taking an equally large bite with a happy sigh. “This is very good.”

The selkie hums agreement, speaking around his mouthful with little care as he jabs a thumb into his own chest. “Culinary school. Second year.” He grins at the slight glare Zuko throws him, stabbing his fork into a piece of asparagus and taking a bite off one end. “Gotta be good for something, right?” 

It is such a strange thing, to be so instantly at ease with someone, but Zuko cannot be bothered to inspect the difference too closely.  Especially with a full belly, and he spares half a thought to wonder about Sokka’s knowledge on dragons regarding that, but it is unlikely to have been a motivator considering he invited himself into the space. “Thank you.” 

Sokka leans back with a happy sigh, patting his own belly lightly as he throws a sideways glance Zuko’s way. “Anytime. I’m in the midst of trying out dishes for class so there is always something on the go.” 

Zuko shakes his head. “Not- I mean yes, thank you for this, but-” He tucks his knife and fork neatly back onto his plate, eyeing the completely bare glassware with no recollection of when the entire meal disappeared. “-You have been… careful. And I do appreciate the effort.” 

There is a slight pause, before the easy look to Sokka’s face drops into something more tense, brow furrowing in confusion as he sits up a little bit. “I mean… I know you are a dragon, it isn’t something all that surprising even without Suki drilling the rules into my head. Don’t touch your things, don’t go into your room. It isn’t that difficult.” 

Zuko blinks, looking down at his hands with a sudden bout of tightness to his chest. “You would think so.” His earlier bravery begins to dwindle, and he doesn’t hesitate to push back from the counter and swiftly place his dishes in the washer. “I have not had great luck on that front in the past.” 

He nods to Sokka as he passes, ignoring the frown and sudden stiffness to his frame as he follows the siren call back to the comfort of his room. 

Still, he does pause at his door when quiet words follow along behind him. “Thank you, too.” 

Zuko doesn’t know what he could possibly be being thanked for, but turns to look back at where Sokka is still watching him from the kitchen, now standing with his arms crossed. “I needed somewhere… safe. So thank you for giving me a chance.” 

The selkie shifts slightly, discomfort apparent enough even to Zuko’s eyes, and he ignores the sudden curiosity in an effort to not to rock the sudden tension. 

Instead he just nods, fingers tapping lightly against his door frame briefly before he slips through the threshold. 

And pointedly ignores the small smile that breaks his own face when words follow him into the dark.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

~~

It becomes not quite a ritual after that. 

Sokka cooks something requiring ingredients only known to deep-sea creatures, while Zuko is coaxed from his bedroom with tantalizing scents of spices and oil. 

It is not every night, but becomes often enough that his chest doesn’t tighten up in warning every time he reaches for his door to leave his den, and his small fledgling trust has not been displaced so far. 

He is not certain when it started to become more. 

When one meal turns into most meals, turns into watching terrible late night television together with a bucket of popcorn between them. 

When dinners become the precursor to a sprawl of homework and drafts along the kitchen table, turning into tea and coffee, and Zuko’s fairly terrible attempt at cookies one night. 

Sokka’s bright and cheery laugh as he watches Zuko stare uncomprehendingly at the now empty canister of pre-made cookie dough that he had unceremoniously launched into the living room when the seal had popped in his hands. 

But whatever it is that grows between them, is a soft and easy thing, and Zuko starts to covet it as much as any of his other treasures. 

So of course it is with a resounding crash, that it all comes tumbling down.

~~

The knock to his door is so frantic and jarring Zuko nearly throws his neck out with how fast he jolts awake. 

It is still dark and a quick glance to his clock lets him know it is barely past two in the morning, as he throws a pair of pants on and blearily goes to answer. 

Sokka’s face appears in the dim light of the hall, hands clasped around a duffle bag being held tight to his chest as he breathes in short little pants. “Hi, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t- I didn’t mean to bother you but-” He swallows, and it is then that Zuko notices the burn of scrubbed off tear tracks down his cheeks, before his jaw clenches as he holds out the bag. “Would you mind- just, I mean- could you keep this safe for me?” 

Zuko is instantly a hundred times more awake than he had felt a moment ago, eyes widening curiously as he reaches out for the bag as his instincts stir excitedly beneath the surface at the prospect of a treasure. “What is it?” He keeps his voice quiet, concern lighting instantly when Sokka’s hands clench on the bag as he hesitates before relinquishing it to him. 

It does not feel overly heavy in his hands as Zuko takes the duffle, more soft and malleable than he had imagined was hiding within. 

And then he promptly nearly drops it in shock when Sokka clears his throat and says. “My pelt.” 

“Your-” It is an odd sense of panic that fills him, with something so pricelessly precious in his hands, and he stares at the bag uncomprehendingly for a long moment as if it is about to suddenly combust. “Sokka I can’t just-” 

“-You are a dragon.” His roommate's voice is strained, desperate in a way that he has never heard before, and the terror is easy to spot even if Zuko can’t parse the source. “I know it would be protected, with you.” The faraway look is terrible, so is the slight shake to his hands that Zuko can see at his sides as his fists clench. 

“Okay.” It is as soft as he can manage, mind already whirring with the best place for it, before-

“You can come in.”

From anyone else, that statement would be entirely unremarkable. 

From a dragon, an invite into a den is something else entirely. 

Zuko is shocked to find there isn’t a single second of regret the moment he says the words, and judging by Sokka’s sudden wide-eyed look, he understands the significance. Still, it is relieving to see the sudden break from the panic, as he stands aside and turns to walk back into his room, hearing the quiet footfalls behind him as Sokka follows. 

The apartment is not overly spacious, but Zuko has done his best with what he has. His nest is piled high with blankets and pillows, stuffed with little treasures and trinkets along the edge for easy access when he needs some comfort. 

But his main hoard is kept safe from all things, tight and secure in a large ornate chest that has been kept spell-bound to him since he was a child. The shimmering obsidian dances with their shadows, and Zuko reaches to place a palm on the top, feeling the mechanisms whir beneath his touch and pull away before the lock releases. 

The glow from within is bright, and he can hear the audible gasp behind him as Sokka takes in the spectacle. 

Zuko turns to see him, glad to see a bit of colour return to his cheeks as he gestures to the bag. “Is it alright if I take it out of this?” 

Sokka’s face goes through a journey in a split second, one that ends far too worried for Zuko’s liking. “Yes, just… be careful. Please.” 

“Of course.” Zuko is slow, taking care to kneel on the floor and unzip the duffle, hesitating for only a moment before reaching inside. The instant softness against his fingertips is unbelievable, and it is terribly difficult to force down the urge to purr as his hands sink into plush velvety fur. 

But he can practically feel Sokka’s rigidity beside him, and now is not the time or place to be giddy over something like this. 

It is beautiful as well, spots and roaning coming into view as Zuko pulls it free, holding the length of it in front of the chest and hesitating. “Are you sure?” 

But Sokka’s voice is tight, and still has that urgency behind the words as he whispers. “Please.” 

Zuko places it inside, taking care not to fold or crease it as it disappears beyond the runes of protection and out of sight, and the sigh of relief beside him is so bone deep he can almost feel it himself. 

Sokka drops to his knees on the floor beside the chest, eyes closed as he breathes huge lungfuls of air. “Thank you. I just- it was a bad night. I’m sorry for waking you.” 

Zuko frowns, watching his own hand for a moment before taking a chance and reaching out to hold Sokka’s shoulder lightly. “Don’t be.” He is warm beneath his touch, and there is a dampness of sweat beneath the cotton of his shirt as well. It is a strangely calm thing, to reach beneath his own collar and snap the small cord around his neck. “Here.” 

Sokka opens his eyes at that, turning to meet his gaze and then staring openly at the offered key in Zuko’s palm. “You don’t have to- Zuko that is your hoard.”

Zuko raises a brow. “I am aware. It is also your pelt. You need to have access to it.” He reaches for Sokka’s hand, shoving the shiny metal into his palm before he can protest further. “This can only be opened by me, or whoever has that key. It is impenetrable otherwise.” 

Sokka’s mouth works, exhaustion and heartache clear as he looks at the key in his palm and sniffs quietly. “It’s safe?” 

Zuko nods, not bothering to point out the obvious, knowing damn well how minds like to pull at every insecurity no matter how well you try and throw logic against them. “It’s safe.” 

The sudden slump catches him off guard, as Sokka lists sideways a bit to lean into Zuko’s side, hooking his chin over Zuko’s shoulder as his weight presses all along him. “Thank you.” 

It is hoarse, and breaking, and Zuko’s chest tightens horribly against the sound of it as he carefully places an arm around Sokka’s shoulders. He reaches out with his other hand to quietly close the chest, listening to the intricate locks immediately latch back into place as it shuts, and the glow of the room is instantly cut. 

And it is incredibly easy, to pull Sokka a little tighter, and let the quiet rumble of a purr finally sound against him as his instincts refuse to be ignored any longer. 

But Sokka doesn’t comment, only shifting to get comfortable and breathing in measured amounts against him as he slowly begins to calm. 

Zuko tries not to think too hard, on how quickly this man is turning into a treasure of a different sort. 

~~

Chapter Text

~~

The morning does not offer much clarity on the matter.

Zuko had hoped that a night’s rest would help restore his roommate somewhat after they had parted ways, but stepping free from his den reveals the form of the selkie pressed tight to a corner of their couch rather than his own bedroom. 

He is asleep, or dozing at least, head tucked into his elbow on the arm of the chair, and Zuko internally winces at what is surely to be an aching neck. But more than that as he nears, he can see the remains of puffiness to crying eyes and the darkness of exhaustion still clear on his face, and Zuko feels a rush of fury for whatever has caused such a thing. 

But anger is generally unhelpful, which is something he has learned, so he takes a breath and quietly continues past to the kitchen, putting a kettle on for some tea and rummaging something that could be considered adjacent to breakfast. 

He hesitates for a beat, glancing back towards the living room and the spill of brown hair over the arm of the sofa, before opening a cupboard and pulling out two mugs instead of one. 

It is an interesting thing, the knowledge he hoards without even realizing it. Reaching for honey in a neat glass jar with the swirling loops of Sokka’s writing on the label, and sugar for himself. Adding nearly half a cup of milk to Sokka’s simply because he knows that this is how he enjoys it. 

Little facts gained in simple ways over the past several weeks, that feel like secrets he gets the honour of knowing. 

Zuko carefully puts the steaming mugs on a tray, along with some fruit on a plate, before walking back out to the living room. 

Sokka is awake this time, likely from the inevitable noise of kitchen disturbance, but he only blinks at Zuko when he crosses in front of him to take the other side of the couch. The tray gets his attention when Zuko places it between them, sitting sideways and taking his own tea before gesturing at the second cup. 

Sokka pauses, taking in the small offering with wide eyes before he too reaches for it, sighing as he wraps his fingers around the warmth of it. “Thank you.” 

It is still hoarse, still dreadfully pained and sore sounding, and Zuko is having a difficult time convincing his heart to calm when his instincts are demanding that there is someone awaiting retribution for this. “You are… okay?”

Which is a foolish question when Sokka clearly isn’t, but Zuko is hoping to broach things gently and sideways rather than striking directly. 

Sokka shrugs, keeping his inky gaze on the steaming liquid between his hands as his jaw ticks. “Better.” He frowns, brows pinching as he curls even tighter to himself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just- I mean I know you don’t like people in your space, I really wasn’t thinking, but I thought I saw-” He cuts off, face crumpling in a way that makes Zuko want to claw through a wall. “Sorry.” 

Zuko watches him for a moment, pulling the anger back as best he can to try and keep any miscommunication from happening. “If I did not want you there, I am more than capable of stopping you. You did not overstep.” He isn’t sure why Sokka is worried in the first place, he thought he had been fairly clear the night before. 

But then again Sokka hadn’t seemed in a good place to begin with, so maybe memory had been hazy at best in the light of day. 

Sokka sighs once more, taking a sip of his tea and leaning back into the cushions to stare at the ceiling for a moment. “I suppose I owe you an explanation, if nothing else.”

“You do not owe me anything. Your business is yours.” He is burning with curiosity, but it is not enough that he would ever press the issue. Not with Sokka so clearly wounded. 

But Sokka shakes his head, shifting to better face Zuko and tucking one leg beneath himself. “I know Suki didn’t tell you, I know she kept it to herself about why I needed somewhere to live to begin with.” His expression shifts, guarded more than Zuko has ever seen him. “I trusted someone, once. Someone who I thought would never hurt me, who I thought was safe. I was wrong.”

Zuko feels the warning bite of knowing, of having the sense of incoming pain before it ever hits him, and he stares transfixed as Sokka fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt for a moment. “Your pelt?”

Sokka’s breath shudders quietly as he nods. “Among other things. But when it was bad, when I wanted to be done, to break up and leave he-” His hands clench on the mug, still looking down into the liquid and avoiding Zuko’s gaze. “I never thought he would actually take it. Threatened it, a couple of times, but I thought- you know, heat of the moment- he didn’t actually mean it.” He shrugs a shoulder, and the large form of his body looks horribly small as he continues to curl into himself. “My own fault, I guess.”

Zuko is speechless, frozen in place with a spine currently rigid with fury, teeth feeling sharper and less passive by the second. “Where is he.” 

And he knows that it is not helpful, his obvious rage, but he does not have much of a chance at holding it back now. Because that isn’t just cruel, it is a felony. It is so deeply abusive it is written into law, because the theft of a selkie pelt gives you outright power and control over them. 

Sokka had wanted to leave. 

Sokka had been forced to stay, unwilling.

Sokka, who is looking at him once more, eyes wide in shock at his tone, Sokka who is so very kind, and giving, and careful with everything he does, and Zuko feels so murderous he can feel fire start to curl around his words. 

“Is he in prison?” He can tell the answer immediately, as Sokka does not quite suppress a flinch, lips tightening as if he is afraid to answer.

And that is on Zuko. 

“Sokka.” He gentles himself right back, keeping his words soft to try and break the obvious tension, and reaches across to him to rest a hand on Sokka’s knee where it is bent towards his chest. 

“It doesn’t matter.” It clearly does, the words tight and tripping as Sokka shakes his head. “I got it back. Suki got it, got me- it doesn’t matter.” But the end of it is awful, shaking and wobbly, and Zuko can see the telltale dimpling of his chin as he snaps his mouth closed and shakes his head. 

The tears are quick to follow, and instantly Zuko cannot stand it. 

It takes a bare second to shove the tray off the couch and onto the table, before snagging a hand on Sokka’s sleeve and pulling him tight to his own body. Sokka practically collapses into him, arm circling Zuko’s shoulders and gripping into his shirt as he buries his face in Zuko’s throat with a gutted sound. 

Zuko can feel the panicky breaths against him, ribs jolting against his arms as he tightens his hold around him, entirely uncaring about any amount of social norms as he practically drags Sokka onto his lap. “You’re safe. You’re safe, Sokka, I have you, and your pelt, and no one will ever be able to do that to you again.” He presses the words into Sokka’s hair, feeling the nod as Sokka’s form continues to shake in his grasp. “You gave a dragon a treasure for safekeeping. You know exactly what that means.” 

The rage still burns, hot and heavy in his belly, but it is placated somewhat by the weight of Sokka against him, and the incessant screaming of his instincts to hold him even tighter and keep him close and safe. 

So it is exactly what he does. 

And it is long minutes of simply existing like this. Nuzzling softly into Sokka’s hair as he falls apart against him, arms like a vice around his middle to brace against every wayward sob. It is only when he quiets, when his muscles give and he goes loose into the embrace, that Zuko chances speaking again. “What happened last night?” 

Sokka sighs quietly, not moving from his spot but Zuko can feel the tightening grip of his fingers in the cloth of the shirt at his back. “I saw him.” The words are hoarse, cracking in the way they always do after you’ve cried your voice raw. “A group of us went to a bar after our night class, and I saw- I don’t think he saw me, I turned around and left as soon as I noticed- but he was sitting in a back booth.” 

Zuko glares at nothing in particular, a spot on the wall over Sokka’s shoulder he is imagining torching through. 

“I didn’t even think he would be in this city. I transferred away after, I only started here this semester.” 

Zuko doesn’t state the obvious, even as the sinking feeling of it slips into him. 

He followed you, didn’t he. 

It is important, but not right now. Not when there are other priorities. 

Zuko pulls back a bit, eyeing the blotchy redness painting Sokka’s features with clear exhaustion in the wake of that. “C’mon.” He nudges him back a bit, shifting to stand and offering his hand out. “You need sleep.” 

Sokka’s brows pinch in confusion, but he doesn’t hesitate to take his hand, fingers lacing easily into his own as Zuko pulls him up. “It is morning.”

Zuko doesn’t roll his eyes, but it is a near thing. “Keen observation, I don’t imagine it matters much when you clearly stayed wide awake on this couch all night.” He frowns then, tilting his head and using his grip on Sokka’s hand to bump his knuckles into his thigh. “You could’ve woken me back up.”

You could have stayed. 

Sokka drops his gaze, scuffing his socked foot lightly against the carpet. “I figured… I had already overused my welcome. I didn’t want to bother you.” His cheeks pink a bit as he mumbles, and Zuko can’t help the bit of relief at the paleness leaving, if only for a moment in the wake of his discomfort. 

Still. 

He tightens his grip even further, using it to tug Sokka with him in the direction of his den. “You would not have.” Zuko can feel the hesitation behind him as they reach the threshold, and doesn’t let Sokka harbour it for more than a second before he pulls him right through. 

Sokka stays tight to his flank this time, apparently much more aware of exactly where he is without the tunnel vision of panic to gloss over it. 

But it doesn’t bother Zuko in the least, and he only holds him closer by the grip on his hand as he leads him to the edge of the nest. He considers the logistics briefly, but his instincts are running so high and rampant he really doesn’t have much say in the matter. “Close your eyes for a moment, please.” 

He lets go of Sokka’s hand as his counterpart does as he is asked, after only a quick baffled look in his direction. 

The shift is quick after he tosses his clothes off, muscles rippling and redistributing, bones lengthening and realigning as he lands with a soft noise on all fours, his bulk thudding into the floor as he shakes himself out. “Okay.” 

Sokka blinks his eyes back open and instantly stares, one hand reaching out for a split second before he catches himself and tucks it back towards his side. “Holy shit.” 

Zuko preens a bit, amused at the shock but also pleased he has managed to pull Sokka’s focus away from his distress. “Get in.” He adds to his point by dropping his snout beneath Sokka’s thigh and giving him a shove, snorting as Sokka practically falls face first into the nest in surprise at the strong push. 

“Ass.” But he is laughing, righting himself enough to sit up as Zuko follows him in. 

It is tight, with more than himself in the nest, but it works. 

And it feels blissful to wrap himself around Sokka and let him lean his weight against Zuko’s shoulder, humming contentment as he continues to wind himself around until he gets his head across Sokka’s lap. 

The knowledge of safety does wonders, and the burning embers of rage and upset finally calm within him as he rumbles a quiet purr against Sokka’s belly. And there is only the briefest pause before arms wrap around him as well, beneath his jaw and over the back of his neck as Sokka takes a shaky breath beneath him. “Thank you.” 

And Zuko would argue that it is him who is getting more of the benefit in this instance, but judging by the slight tremble he can feel in the fingers running softly over his scales, maybe it is not entirely the truth. 

“Go to sleep.” 

~~

It sets a bit of a precedent, after that. 

One that Zuko loves, and Sokka continues to be strangely embarrassed about. 

Because even the first night afterwards, when Zuko had gone to his room to work on drafts well past midnight only to be interrupted by a short tap of knuckles at his door, had turned into another night of being entirely entangled. 

 It is like that for days. 

Zuko, going to his room. Sokka, going to bed and being plagued by nightmares or spiralling into bouts of insomnia, coming to his room in a last ditch effort to get some sleep, and promptly passing out the moment he gets into the nest. 

Sometimes entirely without Zuko, who often has work to complete before he can join him, only to turn around and find Sokka curled up in the mess of blankets with his head tucked into the ridge near Zuko’s chair. 

So it comes to a point of Zuko not even bothering with pretense when he sees Sokka go to brush his teeth, leaving his door open as a clear invitation and sometimes just fully getting behind Sokka and herding him inside to cut out the middleman. 

Sokka, who checks over and over, convinced he is overstepping constantly until one day Zuko- entirely fed up- walks over and picks him up to toss him over his shoulder and carry him in. “I will tell you if it ever becomes a no. Quit being stupid.” 

Sokka is flushed scarlet when he deposits him, inky eyes wide as he clears his throat. “Okay.” 

Zuko somewhat notices a different note to his voice, but he has never been excellent at pinpointing the nuances, and it does not seem like anything is truly amiss. 

It is only later, when he is once again curled up around him with his head pressed tight to Sokka’s chest- he has discovered the beat of his heart to be incredibly soothing- and nearly dozing off, that he feels the ghost of a pair of lips against his brow. 

Quick, fleeting, as if they had never been there.

And Zuko might believe he had imagined it, if not for how his skin burns in the wake of them. 

~~

It is a newness for him, and one he desperately covets, to have someone he is so easily comfortable around. 

A friend, he supposes, but that is entirely inaccurate and falls short by leagues of what it truly is. 

But putting a label to it is dangerous in its own right, and Zuko’s bravery has only run so far. 

Still, it is the everyday that he enjoys the most. The quiet comfort of shared meals and easy words, hands on hands and laughter whenever his patience for whatever Sokka is cooking runs thin and he tries to sneak a bite before it is finished. 

The unending sprawl of university work, papers covering every surface as winter finals draw close and studying becomes a full time job. Sitting together on the floor with a mess of flashcards and pistachio shells as they run one another through a barrage of questions. 

And the softest of smiles he gains from Sokka when he ventures to get them coffee one evening, braving the outdoors in the name of fueling a late night cram session. 

(It doesn’t work, they pass out halfway through in a heap on the couch.)

But it is all of those things that slowly concrete themselves in Zuko’s hierarchy of needs, until all he ever wants is to see Sokka happy. 

And he couldn’t possibly understand how there is someone out there who could have gone out of their way to strip that from him. 

~~

Finals come and go with a wave of stress and the crash and burn of relief on the other side. 

And winter break is something they have both been looking forward to, until it turns into somewhat of a disaster. 

Winter being winter, hits the city with a storm so strong it knocks out the power for several days. And it is freezing. 

Zuko does not handle cold well at the best of times, often bundling up to comical levels whenever he has to go out in subzero temperatures, much to Sokka’s amusement. 

But this is something else entirely. 

It is a constant chill, a bone deep ache that he struggles to shake from himself even buried in his nest as deep as he can manage. 

And Sokka’s concern is an anxious bird, checking his phone for updates every few minutes, running their devices to campus to charge in the library and coming back with no good news. He spends most of his time alternating from joining Zuko in the nest and trying to add to the heat, and going to the kitchen to cook something in the hopes of coaxing Zuko to eat. 

At least the gas stove still works, even if the smell of sizzling food does little to increase his appetite when his entire body cramps up from the cold. 

Dragons do not handle such conditions well. 

But it is a comfort regardless, to have Sokka nearby. A vulnerability made less jarring just from the sight of him coming in with a tray of soup, or newly charged tablet already waiting to play a new episode of Steven Universe, or simply himself, in sweatpants and crewneck, peeling the blankets back from Zuko’s form to slide in next to him and offer his own warmth. 

And one day, digging into a pocket, pink-cheeked and nervous as he clutches something in his palm and holds it between them beneath the covers. “I, um… got you something.” 

It is enough to perk Zuko up, blinking at the tight knuckles of Sokka’s hand as he stretches his own up to meet him. 

Sokka hesitates for the briefest of moments, before his grip relents and Zuko feels the weight and warmth of something in his palm. 

The shininess catches his eye immediately, sharp bright gold and gleaming onyx twisting around each other in braided cords that pass through small charms. Two charms to be exact, one small and pointed, the other thicker and square. 

A lock and a key.

Zuko’s chest heats instantly, staring at the bracelet intently as he smooths his thumb along the surface of the metal band, breathless as he watches the beautiful treasure glint off the small amount of light available in the room. 

Sokka fidgets, face still red as he ducks his gaze down, fiddling with his fingertips as he clears his throat. “I just, I saw it and I thought- I mean it’s kind of perfect and I wanted-”

Zuko doesn’t allow the stream of self-doubt to continue, reaching to hook Sokka’s chin and pull him right in. 

The kiss is quick, soft and testing as they part, but just barely an inch as Zuko takes in the wide eyed look he is being treated to. Except it is barely a pause, because Sokka makes a joyous sound, darting right back in again and this time Zuko has to catch the weight of him in his arms as he presses as close as he can. 

It is less of a kiss and more just lips on laughter as Zuko pulls him in even tighter, nuzzling into his cheek with a pleased purr as Sokka’s arms anchor themselves across his back. “Gifting a treasure to a dragon? Dangerous business, Selkie.” 

But Sokka doesn’t miss a beat, grinning as he tips his face up to catch another kiss, red-cheeked and warm against him. “Hmm, maybe. Or maybe I know exactly what I’m doing.” He laughs as Zuko nips him, snagging a fang against his lip lightly only to be treated by Sokka snapping playfully back at him, rows of sharp selkie-teeth fully on display. “Maybe I have been doing a fair amount of research at the library while I’ve been waiting for our stuff to charge. Maybe I’ve been perusing the section on dragon courting for long enough that the librarians are starting to give me weird looks.” 

Zuko smiles, running his thumb along the small bracelet still in his hand. “Sneaky. You could have just asked.” 

Sokka huffs a laugh, fingers toying absently along the collar of Zuko’s shirt. “I wasn’t sure if you… I mean I thought it might be reciprocated but, I mean I haven’t been known to be good at reading people in the past.” 

Which Zuko understands entirely too well, having spent most of his life always a step behind on social cues, but this? “Sokka.” He raises a brow, running his thumb just beneath Sokka’s lip to pull it loose and lean forward to lick across the seam of it. “If I weren’t currently indisposed, I would be showing you exactly how reciprocated this is. But as it stands, that will have to wait until we have heat in this house again.” 

It sucks, even if it is true, because Zuko is still so far below a normal temperature for himself that even speaking does a pretty good job at draining his energy. 

Sokka just nods, blinking at him briefly before cuddling closer. “I wish I could help more, I-” He pauses, head cocked as he considers. “Hang on.” 

And then suddenly he is bereft of him, arms protesting the loss as Sokka quickly stands and walks to the other side of the room, and Zuko’s head shoots up from the blankets when he hears the familiar whir of gears unlatching. 

Sokka, bent over the now open chest of Zuko’s hoard, reaching into the rune glow and into the abyss beneath, before pulling free the only item he knows to look for. 

His pelt is just as stunning as he remembers, thick and full with white and brown dappling across the expanse, and Zuko suddenly realizes what it is he is doing and abruptly loses all ability to speak. Because his selkie is crossing the room back to him, sliding once more beneath the assortment of blankets before arranging the length of his pelt across them both. 

The warmth is instant, thick soft fur bracing the cold out of their small cocoon with ease as Sokka once more settles close into his side. There is a nervousness to his expression, a tightness in his jaw and a scrunch to his brows, and Zuko does not have to wonder why. 

He once again wonders if murder is on the table. 

But that is a conversation for another day, and he has more pressing concerns right now. Namely the soul-crushing trust he is currently being gifted, just as wondrous as any other treasure.

“It’s beautiful, Sokka. Thank you.”

Sokka smiles, soft and aching, and buries it into Zuko’s throat as he curls up tighter. “You’re welcome.” 

~~