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The night air at the Western Air Islands carried an unusual chill, enough to make even the Fire Nation's prince shiver. Most of their supplies had been left behind during their hasty escape from Azula's attack, including several sleeping bags. As the group settled in for the night at their new campsite, Sokka realized they were one bedroll short.
"Well, this is awkward," Sokka muttered, scratching the back of his head as he looked between the lone sleeping bag and Zuko. "I guess we could take turns?"
Zuko crossed his arms, trying to maintain his dignity despite the way his teeth were chattering. "I'm fine sleeping without one. I can regulate my body temperature with firebending."
"Yeah, because that's totally working for you right now, Mr. Chatterteeth." Sokka rolled his eyes. "Look, we're both adults here. We can share without it being weird."
After some grumbling and awkward shuffling, they managed to squeeze into the sleeping bag together. Sokka could feel the warmth radiating from Zuko's body, and despite his earlier protests, he found himself unconsciously moving closer to that heat.
"Your feet are like ice blocks," Zuko complained, but he didn't pull away when Sokka pressed closer.
"Well, not all of us are walking furnaces," Sokka retorted, but there was no real bite to his words. The shared warmth was making him drowsy, and he found himself relaxing into Zuko's presence.
They lay in silence for a while, listening to the night sounds and the distant snores of their companions. Sokka became increasingly aware of every point where their bodies touched, of Zuko's steady breathing, of the way their hearts seemed to beat in synchronized rhythm.
"This is... nice," Zuko whispered, so quietly Sokka almost missed it. The vulnerability in his voice made something twist in Sokka's chest.
Sokka turned his head to respond and found Zuko's face mere inches from his own. In the pale moonlight, Zuko's golden eyes seemed to glow, and Sokka could see the uncertainty and hope written across his features.
Neither one could say who moved first. Perhaps they both did, drawn together like cricket moths to flame. The first kiss was hesitant, barely more than a brush of lips, but it sent sparks through Sokka's entire body. The second was braver, deeper, a slow exploration of newfound territory.
They traded lazy kisses under the stars, hands finding their way to cup faces and card through hair, before gathering courage and pressing further down. To press against ribs and hips, pulling the other closer as if they were the other’s lifeline. There was no urgency, no desperate rush – just the quiet discovery of something that perhaps had been building all along.
"We should probably talk about this in the mornings.” Sokka murmured against Zuko's lips, even as he pressed closer.
"Probably." Zuko agreed, but made no move to stop the from kissing him. His hand found Sokka's and intertwined their fingers.
They fell asleep like that, tangled together in the too-small sleeping roll, hands clasped and breath mingling. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges – the looming comet, the final battle, the fate of the world – but for now, they had this moment of peace under the vast sky.