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Hahn is aware of the prying gazes that follow him through the halls of Agna Q’ela, as he makes his way to the Council Hall with hurried steps. He’s not a stranger to the attention of his Tribespeople. They used to look at him with admiration, they saw him as a prodigy – the kind of warrior that represented all the Northern ideals; an embodiment of discipline and duty. After all, Hahn has been the youngest warrior to ever become a troop leader.

It is a title that he wears with pride, even though he’s sometimes not sure that he really deserves it. Especially since Princess Yue broke of their engagement.

Since then, the people’s stares are scrutinizing and Hahn can’t blame them. It’s understandable that they want to know the reason why the Princess saw it fit to make such an impactful decision.

Hahn wonders, what exactly he did wrong either. Sure, their engagement has been a political arrangement, but he treated Yue like the princess she was. He has been as attentive, considerate and kind as possible. And most importantly, he has been willing to do his duty. He’s still confused and disappointed. All the hard work he put into becoming the man the people of his Tribe saw before has gone to waste. He just wanted to live up to the expectations, be the perfect warrior, the perfect man.

Now, the only one who doesn’t look at him suspiciously is the Princess herself.

A silent huff makes it over Hahn’s lips as he enters the Council Hall, where most of the other troop leaders are already gathered and takes his place at the foot of the stairs, not far from Princess Yue’s seat. She won’t be attending the meeting herself, but if she was, he would be closest to protect her in case of an attack.

It’s unlikely that such a thing will happen. For nearly a century the Northern Water Tribe has been secluded from the rest of the world while the Fire Nation continued to spread their war relentlessly. Behind the ice walls of Agna Q’ela the North endured.

And today Chief Arnook called them to witness the arrival of the new Avatar.

It’s something that probably none of them expected to experience in their lifetime and Hahn is aware of the honor that the Chief is bestowing upon them to be among the first to meet the man.

He straightens his back and stands tall and proud, one hand on the handle of his club knife, when the doors open. Master Pakku leads their guests into the hall, flanked by a troop of his waterbenders.

Hahn looks straight ahead as protocol dictates, but he can’t help glancing at the group of newcomers from the corner of his eye.

The Avatar, dressed in orange and yellow, turns out to be a bald child with an arrow tattooed on his head. Hahn expected someone much older, much wiser, much more powerful, given that the Avatar hasn’t been seen for a hundred years. He did not expect a kid. They can just hope that this boy is more than meets the eye.

Hahn hears rustling and footsteps behind him, when Chief Arnook stands up from his throne to greet their guests.

“It has been a long time indeed, since an Avatar has walked into these halls.” The deep, sonorous voice of Chief Arnook sounds through the waste hall. “Welcome, Avatar…?”

“Aang. My name is Aang. And those are Katara and Sokka, my friends from the Southern Water Tribe.”

Murmurs ripple through the hall. Hahn’s eyes widen and he’s not the only one among the usually stoic warriors to let protocol slip and take a look at the Avatar’s companions. It’s been decades since they had guests from their sister tribe.

At first glance, the two young people look hardly different from them. Their skin is slightly darker and their clothes are a lighter blue, but otherwise there’s clearly a resemblance. The girl stands close to the young Avatar, clearly protective of him, but it’s the young man next to her who catches Hahn’s eye.

The club-knife attached to his belt and the boomerang that is strapped across his back identify him as a warrior. Hahn feels a spark of immediate curiosity run through him. He’s never seen any Northerner wearing his hair like this, neatly shaved except for the hair on top that is tied into a wolftail. The young warrior, Sokka, wears an expressive and unguarded look on his face. He does nothing to hide his wonder, while he looks around to take in the magnificent architecture that surrounds him, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

He’s beautiful.

The thought crosses Hahn’s mind briefly and is replaced by immediate shame that hits him like a punch to his stomach. His heart pounds against his ribs.

Swallowing hard, Hahn tears his eyes away. It doesn’t help with the surge of disturbing feelings that crash into him, which he thought gone.

A bitter taste settles in his mouth and his palms are sweaty. Hahn forces himself to stay calm, tells himself that his mind is playing tricks on him. He’s been under a lot of pressure ever since Yue broke off their engagement. He’s just on the edge and that coaxes old demons back to the surface. It’s nothing to worry about.

Hahn takes a deep breath and dares to throw another look at Sokka. He immediately regrets it.

The Avatar and Chief Arnook are still exchanging pleasantries, which obviously gives Sokka the opportunity to look around and their eyes meet.

A small, curious smile spreads on the Southerner’s face and Hahn feels the heat rising to his cheeks.

He is beautiful.

Hahn wants to turn around and run. At the same time, he finds himself unable to move, his eyes locked with Sokka’s. He can’t afford to lose his composure. He’s presenting his Tribe here and the people are already watching him. He must not give them any reason to believe that something is fundamentally wrong with him. Something in his chest clenches at the thought.

Fortunately, Chief Arnook addresses Sokka directly, capturing the young man’s attention.

Hahn stubbornly fixes his eyes on the opposite wall, willing the monster away. He doesn’t listen to the exchange, focusing on his breathing instead, trying to ban each and every thought from his mind.

It works just fine until Sokka is suddenly standing in front of him, smiling broadly and sticking his arm out to Hahn for the traditional Water Tribe greeting. It startles him and for a moment Hahn just stares at Sokka like he came straight from a nightmare. There are some freckles on his nose and cheeks, dark against his tanned skin and Hahn’s mind is blank.

It’s only when a concerned look settles on Sokka’s face, that it occurs to Hahn that it would be rude not to return the gesture. He quickly reaches out and closes his hand around Sokka’s forearm while the Southerner does the same. His grip is firm and warm and his smile sincere.

“Hi, I’m Sokka.”

Hahn has no idea what the protocol is at this point, neither does he know what to do with his face. He can only hope that his uneasiness doesn’t show, when he takes a step back and bows slightly.

“My name is Hahn. It is a true honor to meet a warrior of our sister tribe”, he says, hoping to sound neutral.

Sokka throws a bewildered look at him.

“Oh. Wow, okay. No need to be so formal around me. I’m just a guy from the South. But it’s great to be here. This place is insane and your armor looks awesome.”

Hahn doesn’t know what to make of that compliment. It’s flattering and uncurls something dangerously warm in his chest.

Quickly, he clears his throat. “You honor me.”

“Please”, Sokka says with a dismissive wave of his hand, that is followed by another bright smile. “It’s true though. And this palace is so much more beautiful than the one in Omashu. Have you ever been to Omashu?”

He doesn’t wait for Hahn’s answer.

“It’s all stone and sharp angles. Impressive, but this here is definitely more elegant. I wouldn’t know how to carve those shapes out of the columns and have them carry such a huge roof. I wonder- oh! It’s the waterbenders, right? We don’t have any in the South, except for my sister, but when we left she wasn’t really good at it and-“

The words spill from Sokka’s mouth like water from a fountain and Hahn finds himself listening in awe. His eyes are glued to Sokka’s face and the words tune out.

You’re beautiful, he thinks incoherently.

“Sorry, I know I ramble. But I’m just excited that we really made it to the North Pole. It’s been quite the journey. I can’t wait to see more of the city and your Tribe. Are these all of your warriors? Nah, that can’t be.”

Sokka throws a questioning look at the few dozen men around them.

Hahn shakes his head. “No, these are just the troop leaders.”

With wide eyes the Southerner turns back to him and Hahn feels his cheeks heat up.

“You mean, you’re- wow. But you’re so much younger than them. I guess that makes you some kind of local hero, aren’t you?”

Hahn chuckles out of politeness, while a sense of dread washes over him. He used to be, but now he remembers why he really isn’t.

“That’s awesome”, Sokka continues without waiting for a reply. “I want to know everything about your training. Oh! Do you think I can join you for a session? I’ve learned most of my stuff recently and there’s always room for improvement, so that would be great.”

The knot in his stomach tightens, but Hahn finds himself nodding anyway if only out of hospitality.

“Sure.”

“Amazing!” With that, Sokka claps jovially on his shoulder. “But let’s grab a bite first. The Chief said something about a feast. Do you know where that’ll take place?”

Again, Hahn nods helplessly. Sokka’s grin grows wider.

“Then lead the way, troop leader Hahn. I’m starving.”

Hahn closes the door behind him and leans against it, closing his eyes. The cold air outside cleared his troubled mind, but now that he’s back in the privacy of his own room, he finds it difficult not to think.

It’s been so long. He really believed that he’s been past that. He thought that he got rid of that part of himself that he buried under duty and discipline. But apparently, that improper longing has only been waiting, simmering under the surface to attack when Hahn least expected it.

He grinds his teeth, angry at himself. It’s ridiculous.

The gnawing feeling of guilt, that he’s not unaccustomed to, has settled on him once more. He enjoyed the feast and Sokka’s company. It was hard not to. Sokka was lively and curious and eager to share stories of the journey to the North Pole, some exciting but most of them funny in one way or the other. Hahn laughed. He actually laughed. And it hasn’t been that polite, held-back, composed laugh that he uses whenever it seems appropriate. No, Sokka managed to coax a true and natural laugh out of him. One that came with a feeling of warmth and fondness that’s entirely unbecoming for a warrior talking to one of his kind.

It’s not Sokka’s fault, though. He might have accidently stirred that part of him, but he’s not to blame for Hahn’s flaw. His shame.

Hahn sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Maybe he’s overthinking it. Sokka is handsome. That is just a fact, everybody can see it. And he’s an honorable guest. That Hahn is feeling something unexpected could just be the fascination of someone new. It doesn’t have to mean that he’s going backwards. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

After all, he worked too hard to become a man worth of his rank, worth of his position, worth of marrying the princess. He worked too hard for his efforts to be in vain. He’s a protector of the Northern Water Tribe. He’s not a confused, misguided boy anymore. Hahn buried those inappropriate feelings years ago. And if he did it once, he can do it again.

Sokka probably won’t stay long in the North anyway. He’s a warrior like him and Hahn will treat him as such, with respect and comradery. He will silence the voices inside his head, or they will fade once Sokka leaves together with his sister and the Avatar anyway.

There’s no need for worries. Hahn is stronger than that. He’s proven it already.

The North prepares for a siege and the whole city is bustling with activity. Hahn is mostly busy with training his men and coordinating with the other troop leaders. Ever since Sokka’s arrival he made the Southern warrior a member of his troop and also spends some time outside of training with him to discuss combat strategies or simply show him different parts of Agna Q’ela.

Hahn is still wary and strict with himself, but it doesn’t interfere with their activities and he gets better at denying his attraction to the other warrior with every day that goes by. It’s a bit sad, but he knows better than to dwell on what-ifs or pine over his feelings that shouldn’t exist in the first place.

He throws a look at Sokka, who jokes around with Sangok, whom he had taken by surprise by sliding across the ice on his knees and hitting him on the calves from behind during today’s combat training. A silent sigh makes it past Hahn’s lips, before he squares his shoulders and approaches them.

“You’re improving at an impressive rate”, he says and Sokka grins at him.

“Doing my best.”

“Don’t overdo it”, Sangok chimes in. “Or Hahn here will make the rest of us do double-shifts to keep up with you.”

While Sokka laughs, Hahn raises his eyebrow skeptically. As there’s no reproach, Sangok grins, hits Sokka playfully against his shoulder and excuses himself as the training is over for today anyway and they have been the last to finish.

Hahn watches him leave, then looks back at Sokka, who doesn’t seem to have the slightest intention to do so. He crosses his arms and tilts his head.

“And you want me to believe, that you’re entirely self-taught?” Doubt is dripping from his voice and Sokka smiles sheepishly. He nods in the direction of one of the walls, that allows at the same time an amazing view at the Ocean and the city.

“Maybe not entirely”, Sokka shrugs as they mount the stairs. “But mostly. I mean, my Dad left with all the men when I was only thirteen, so I knew some basics but I never had a real, formal warrior training. If I’m honest, I learned half my stuff on Kyoshi Island. Their warriors are amazing fighters.”

It’s a story that Hahn hasn’t heard yet, so he throws a questioning look at Sokka, who is happy to once more let his eyes wander over the city made entirely off ice, as if he could absorb the view if he just looks at it long enough.

“It’s a small island between the Southern Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom. It was one of the first stops on our journey, actually. The Kyoshi Warriors took me in”, Sokka continues. “They don’t train outsiders, but they made an exception for me. Don’t get me wrong, in the beginning I really got my ass kicked, but it was totally worth it.”

Hahn snorts and crooks a smile.

“Really?”

“Definitely. I would do it again anytime. I learned so much, especially from their leader. An absolutely incredible person by the way. Though, sharp, dangerous, amazing. The whole package”, Sokka laughs, rejoicing in the memory. “And then one day, they just kissed me.”

Hahn’s mind comes to a screeching halt and it feels like his feet are losing ground. He stares at Sokka, bewildered and entirely scandalized. His heart is pounding in his chest and Hahn is almost unable to process what he just heard.

A warrior.

A warrior, who kissed another man.

With no shame or repercussions.

And Sokka is standing in front of him, sharing this story that could have him exiled as if it’s nothing special, with a wide grin on his face and cheerfully nudging Hahn with his elbow.

“Wild, right? Didn’t see it coming at all.”

Hahn has absolutely no idea what to say. His heart is still beating frantically, almost painfully and he’s just not able to comprehend why Sokka would bring this up or why he acts like it’s not a big deal, but something perfectly normal.

Maybe it is, in the South?

Hahn doesn’t know. He only knows that Sokka just hit a nerve and now he’s feeling everything ten times more intensive: the fear, the longing, the shame, the guilt. It’s nauseating.

He somehow croaks out a strangled “I… see.”

He doesn’t, though. He really doesn’t. His mind is swirling and it just doesn’t make sense. In the North there’s no space for this. For feelings between men. For kisses exchanged between them like it’s harmless. For this ease Sokka is showing, this casualty like it’s not… wrong. For someone like Hahn.

And Sokka is completely oblivious. He grins at him innocently while the light of the setting sun illuminates his handsome face and makes his eyes shine even more intense. Like he didn’t just knock Hahn off his feet. Instead he winks at him and the only thing Hahn can do is stare back at him, horrified.

“So”, Sokka says lightly, leaning towards him. “That ever happened to you?”

Hahn flinches violently.

“No!”, he almost yells, taking a step back and bringing some distance between them. “Never!”

Sokka tilts his head. “Never? Why?”

He seems genuinely confused and Hahn feels his chest tighten. Sokka really can’t expect him to explain why it is wrong. It’s dishonorable, it’s-

Hahn feels something inside him shatter and he can’t stand being around Sokka right this moment.

“I’m- I totally forgot, that I- I have a thing and- sorry, I’ve got to go!”

And with that he turns around and runs.

Hahn’s pulse is racing, his lungs hurt from running.

“They just kissed me.”

Sokka grins at him like it was fine.

Hahn is unable to keep his composure. He sits down on his bed and buries his face in his hands. It’s to no avail. The images in his mind won’t go away.

Two men in a light embrace, one of them is Sokka with eyes shining so brightly, so beautiful. A gentle hand that covers his cheek. Lips that meet with urge and tenderness.

Hahn feels nauseous. There’s a burning under his skin and a cold shiver runs down his spine.

He spent years to overcome his flaw. To build up that wall, ever since he realized that he had that longing. And with one sentence, Sokka tore it down like it was nothing.

Fear, confusion, want. Everything is crashing down on him. But the worst is the guilt. For the first time he doesn’t feel it towards his family, his Chief or his Tribe. He betrayed all of them, but mostly Hahn betrayed himself. It’s almost suffocating and he gasps, unable to even his breathing.

He’s a failure. He can’t keep himself in check.

It’s his hand on Sokka’s cheek. It’s his thumb carefully tracing the line of Sokka’s lip. It’s him being captured by those eyes, him pulling Sokka against his body, him closing the distance to kiss him softly.

He wants. He wants it so badly, that it terrifies him. Hahn wants to know what it would be like. To kiss Sokka. To be kissed back. To not be afraid.

“Spirits, give me strength”, he mumbles desperately.

This time he does avoid Sokka. When the Southern man shows up for training Hahn excuses himself, saying that he is needed somewhere else, even when he isn’t. He doesn’t dine with the Chief, the Princess and their guests, but prefers to take simple cold meals in his own room. And every night Hahn hopes that sleep will make it better, that the roaring storm in his mind will fade.

Hahn is no stranger to his own shame, but this is something else. He feels lost and torn and simply tired. Worn out by a fight that has been going on for too long. He might have chosen to ignore it, the denial running so deep that he has been convinced that he wasn’t able to feel anything towards another man or any other person anymore.

And he wonders if he can go back to that. Or if letting himself imagine just once what it would be like closed that door. He’s still thinking about Sokka’s confession, about what it means. If Sokka had confessed to anyone but him, he would have been sent away, guest or not. Exile would be Hahn’s punishment too, if he ever admitted to or acted on his desire. He would have to fend for himself in the icy wilderness, a common punishment for going against the social norms.

When he thinks about how carefree and comfortable Sokka had been, when he dwelled in that memory of a kiss, Hahn wonders if it is accepted in the South. He almost envies Sokka for this lightheartedness. And he wonders, if Sokka would be as happy if it was Hahn kissing him. That’s something Hahn has never allowed himself to think about before and he knows that his fate would be sealed if he kissed Sokka, but…

It’s painful to think about it. But also incredibly nice. Heart-warming. Exciting.

The confrontation is inevitable. Hahn knows that. There’s only so many excuses he can come up with and with the preparations for the siege they run into each other constantly. And as much as the young troop leader tries to remain reserved, he is well aware of the worried glances Sokka is throwing at him.

He tries to avoid meeting his eyes, because every time he does his heart-rate speeds up and he wants to be as close to and as far away from Sokka as possible. And every time, his traitorous mind brings up the imaginations of tender moments, gentle touches and shared kisses. It’s torture. Hahn knows that he should be solely focusing on the approaching naval forces of the Fire Nation. Every time he becomes aware of his thoughts drifting into inappropriate directions, he increases his efforts by throwing himself more fiercely into training and working himself into exhaustion - anything that keeps his mind off the Southern Water Tribe boy.

Which is how he finds himself patrolling on the eastern wall. An attack is unlikely at this place close to the mountains nearby and the rugged terrain any attacker would have to cross, especially during this hour. It is close to midnight, and the guard couldn’t believe his luck when Hahn offered to take over his shift.

Above him the northern lights illuminate the sky, the pink and green bright against the dark curtain of the night. The air is clear and cold and Hahn is grateful for the quiet. Out here far from any company he can breathe and focus only on the beauty that surrounds him.

That is until he hears the crunching of snow under boots. He turns and spots a torch approaching him from the distance. The light of the flame is too bright to make out a face at first, but Hahn quickly realizes that it’s Sokka. A queasy feeling settles in his stomach, despite the warmth that blooms in his chest. Hahn knows that he can hardly escape from his post.

When he comes closer, Sokka grins at him though not as bright as usual.

“Here you are”, he says unnecessarily and places the torch in one of the hooks on the ice railing. “You missed dinner.”

“I’m on duty.”

He tries and succeeds to ban any emotion from his voice. Sokka throws an incredulous look at him, while he fiddles with his backpack to get something out. Finally, he hands Hahn a bundle of food.

“I’m afraid it’s only some meat skewers and they’re probably cold by now. I didn’t think the eastern wall would be this far from the city center. Yue warned me, but I thought she exaggerated. What are you doing out here anyway?”

“I’m on watch.”

“Watch’a looking at?” Sokka grins, amused by his wordplay but Hahn only has a half-hearted smile for him.

He shrugs and accepts the package of food, only to put it aside. The young troop leader is tense and though it flatters him, that Sokka came all the way to bring him something to eat, it also makes him anxious.

“Hahn, are you okay?”, Sokka asks carefully.

“Sure. Why?”

He doesn’t manage to sound careless and he deflects Sokka’s question even more by crossing his arms, though he hopes that Sokka interprets it as an attempt to warm his hands.

The southern warrior shrugs.

“I don’t know. You seem kind of reserved lately or withdrawn. I mean, it’s understandable with the upcoming siege and so on. I wonder if there’s anything I can do or say to make you feel better.”

Despite his best intentions Hahn’s features soften and he sighs.

“It’s not the siege”, he says quietly.

“Oh.”

Obviously Sokka didn’t expect that and probably he already prepared a pep-talk speech to lighten Hahn’s mood. A wave of fondness washes over the Northerner. Sokka seems to care about him. It makes the weight on his chest feel even heavier. It’s really not fair and this is probably neither the place nor the moment, but there might be no better.

“It’s about something you said the other day. About Kyoshi Island.”

“Oh?”

Hahn nods and feels his mouth going dry. His insides are squirming and there’s a nervous tingling in his chest. He feels nothing like the collected and eloquent warrior his people make him out to be. Heat is already rising to his cheeks and his throat feels tight.

“You mentioned”, he begins awkwardly and clears his throat. “You mentioned that one of the warriors…”

His voice breaks away.

Spirits, it’s impossible. He can’t talk about it.

Sokka frowns. “Yes…?”

“I- I’m trying, okay?”, Hahn huffs helpless and frustrated. “I don’t know how to speak about this. You can, obviously, but here we don’t-“

His voice trails off and Hahn looks at Sokka begging him to understand without having to say it. He’s met with curious eyes that watch him patiently, almost reassuring. Sokka sees him and something inside Hahn simply gives up the fight.

It’s not bravery but despair, that makes him step forward and gently cup Sokka’s jaw with trembling hands to guide him closer. He’s terrified when he leans in and his lips brush tentatively against Sokka’s. His heart is thrumming in his chest, the echo of it pulsing in his ears. He’s bracing himself to be shoved away, for Sokka to protest but it never comes. The younger man remains perfectly still, and Hahn exhales in relief, his lips never leaving Sokka’s. He’s still shaking but a luxurious, comforting warmth spreads through him, as he tilts Sokka’s head just lightly to deepen the slow and tender kiss.

The sensation intensifies, when a hand comes to rest hesitantly on his shoulder.

It’s better than Hahn ever imagined. This is real. Sokka is right here and he’s not pushing him away. His lips are cool from the chilly air around them, but Hahn doesn’t mind. To feel them against his own is still incredible and Hahn allows himself to cherish the moment and enjoy being this close to Sokka.

He nibbles on his lower lip and coaxes a surprised gasp from the Southern warrior, before he draws back slowly.

Sokka opens his eyes and blinks in confusion, before his gaze focuses. Then, he stares at Hahn wide-eyed and open-mouthed. It only takes Hahn a second to realize what this means and he lets go of Sokka immediately and takes a few steps back.

“Spirits, I – I’m sorry!”, he blurts out. The warmth vanishes from him in an instant and makes room for fear and shame to claw at him. “I- I didn’t- I mean, I shouldn’t have- I thought, what you said about that warrior- that you-“

Sokka looks at him as if he’s grown a second head and Hahn gulps, when he realizes the consequence of his action.

“Please, Sokka. You mustn’t tell anyone!” He’s begging.

Hahn is begging and he’s not even ashamed of it. There’s too many other things to be ashamed of. He lost control, lost his composure and exposed himself. Hahn keeps staring at Sokka, his eyes pleading for mercy.

The young warrior from the South is still stunned but a worried frown settles on his forehead. He seems bothered, though it doesn’t seem like he’s bothered by the kiss.

“Hey, hey! Easy”, he says softly and in a tone that he would also use to calm a panicking snow-camel. “Hahn, it’s okay.”

“It’s not!”, Hahn almost yells back at him. “It’s not okay here. You don’t understand. This – this isn’t supposed to happen. Men don’t-“ He closes his eyes, mortified. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. Please don’t tell anyone!”

Hahn bites his lips and tears his eyes away from Sokka. He tries to even his breath, but his heart is still pounding like he’s running from a pack of polarbear-dogs and there’s nothing left of the composed and perfect warrior he usually is.

For a moment neither of them says anything. Then, Sokka steps forward and his hand settles on Hahn’s shoulder again. The weight is not nearly as relieving as it was minutes ago.

“Hahn, look at me.”

He doesn’t want to. But he just violated Sokka’s integrity as a warrior, so he owes it to him. Reluctantly he turns his head towards the Southerner.

“I’m not going to tell anyone.”

His shoulders sag with relief and Sokka mouth twitches.

“And for the record… I don’t mind.”

Hahn’s breath catches in his throat and his eyes go wide. “What?”

Sokka shifts his weight and shrugs. “I haven’t thought about it, I guess. About you. Not like that anyway. But I’m not mad or anything. It was a nice kiss.”

He sends a small, sincere smile at him and Hahn’s heart does a little flip. Nevertheless, he’s still tense like a bowstring and his head is chaos. Hope, terror, relief and shame are all tangled together.

“But, can I ask what made you do it?”, Sokka asks.

Hahn swallows, trying to find his voice again.

“You said a warrior on Kyoshi Island kissed you. You seemed to have liked it. And you didn’t seem… ashamed. Or afraid.”

Sokka’s mouth opens in realization, then he grimaces.

“Hahn, Kyoshi Warriors are exclusively women.”

Hahn feels the blood draining from his face. He stares at Sokka, mouth agape, and realizes just how big of a mistake he has made.

“Oh Spirits!”, he curses with a shaking voice. “Sokka, I’m so sorry. I made a terrible mistake.”

Sokka waves it off like it’s nothing. “No. If anything it’s my fault. I should’ve explained myself. But it doesn’t matter. You kissed someone you like, that’s all. At least I assume you like me. That’s not terrible.”

His nerves are only calming down slowly and Sokka’s words make something in his chest flutter.

“It is”, Hahn says quietly. “Here it is. That’s why no one must know. The punishment for what I just did would be exile.”

Sokka’s brows furrow, he looks scandalized and uncomprehending. Then, he makes a disbelieving noise, that is somewhere between a wince and a snort.

“Exile?”, he echoes. “For a kiss.”

Hahn sighs and wipes a hand over his face.

“For being like me.”

Sokka doesn’t say anything to this, he just looks at Hahn with a pitiful expression. The Northerner looks towards the mountains, avoiding Sokka’s gaze. If he was truly a man of honor he would seek exile himself. At least, he would ask Sokka to leave, to spare him his company. Instead and despite his shame he is grateful that Sokka isn’t running from him, that he stays right where he is as if Hahn didn’t just do something unacceptable.

Maybe… the complete absence of scandal makes Hahn wonder.

“Is this accepted in the South?”

Sokka’s eyes go wide and he thinks.

“Honestly? No idea. I’m not aware that there has been somebody among our warriors who liked men. I don’t know what my Dad would say or do about it. But exile seems a bit harsh.”

A dry laugh makes it past Hahn’s lips. A bit harsh.

Sokka throws an apologetic look at him and leans back against the railing of the wall. He seems relaxed and Hahn doesn’t know what to make of it. He’s still waiting for the fallout, his skin itching anxiously.

For a while neither of them says anything and Hahn looks into the night, searching for any sign of approaching enemies. But there’s nothing to see apart from the polar lights that still illuminate the sky.

“I don’t get it”, Sokka says all of a sudden.

Hahn’s heart clenches and he grimaces.

“Neither do I”, he admits. “I don’t know why the spirits saw it fit to make me like this. It is my biggest flaw, my greatest shame. I tried to fight it since… well, forever I suppose. And I thought successfully until you showed up.”

“What?”

Hahn shrugs helplessly. “You’re very handsome. And enthusiastic, and kind. Quite fascinating, honestly.”

Hahn is grateful for the dark, because he’s blushing again and when he dares to glance at Sokka, the Southerner does seem flustered. The troop leader immediately regrets his words and he doesn’t know why he keeps talking or why he is sharing all his bottled up thoughts and emotions. He should ask for Sokka’s forgiveness and leave him alone. Instead he’s embarrassing himself even further.

“Oh, uh, thanks? That- wow, sorry”, Sokka chuckles quietly and Hahn doesn’t know how to interpret the look the younger man is giving him. “I appreciate you. I really do. But that’s not what I was referring to when I said I don’t get it. I meant the whole exile-thing. What’s the point?”

“The point is not to taint the purity and honor of the warrior.”

Sokka squints his eyes and crosses his arms. “The purity and honor of the warrior? You’ve heard how some of these guys talk, right?”

Hahn shrugs. “We’re brothers in arms. It’s not right to have any unbrotherly feelings towards a comrade.”

“It’s not like you choose your feelings.”

“I didn’t!”, Hahn argues. “But it is a flaw. My curse, if you will. And I’m deeply sorry that I forced myself on you.”

Sokka rolls his eyes and huffs.

“Spirits, could you possibly be any more dramatic? I told you, it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Hahn just looks at him and he doesn’t understand. Everybody else would seek action and punishment. And Sokka just stands there and listens and encourages him. It feels entirely wrong and at the same time it’s incredibly comforting.

“But you should. Everybody would. Or at least everybody who isn’t like me and I suppose you’re not.”

Sokka shrugs. “Probably not. I definitely like girls. But I think I might like guys too, so.”

The nonchalant statement makes a dangerous thrill run through Hahn. It raises hope. He can’t even say for what exactly, but hope is probably the last thing he needs right now. The young troop leader shoves the thought away and focuses on what Sokka said.

“Well, your secret is safe with me.” He even attempts to smile and Sokka smiles right back at him.

“Likewise.”

Sokka throws a look towards the city below them.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of who you are, Hahn. That’s not right. You’ve got a lot of things to be proud of. You’re the youngest troop leader in decades, you are an honorable man and you are a role model. And I’m honored that you consider me someone worth of your interest.”

Hahn closes his eyes for a moment. Warmth spreads in his chest again.

“You’re making this harder”, he complains.

“Would you prefer if I yelled at you?”

“Maybe. That would be easier to understand.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Hahn nods. Then he quietly says: “Thanks, Sokka.”

The Southerner throws another lopsided smile at him and waves it off.

“Nothing to thank me for. Now, the walk over here was quite long and this conversation made me hungry. I could eat something.”

Hahn raises an eyebrow at him, then laughs.

“You’re impossible”, he says and picks up the bundle of food that Sokka gave him earlier. “Wanna share?”

Sokka smiles brightly at him and Hahn’s heart does a little flip.

He should be relieved and grateful – and he really is. But Hahn knows very well, that things just got much more complicated.

It is a strange feeling to have revealed his biggest secret to someone else and while Hahn does feel lighter, he also feels a lot more vulnerable if not right out paranoid. He trusts that Sokka will keep his word and not tell anybody about him. Hahn also knows that they’ve been completely alone, that there was no hidden observer on that wall, but nevertheless there is an urge in him to listen in on the conversations among his troop and pay attention to every gesture just to convince himself that they didn’t find out that their leader did something dishonorable.

Hahn still can’t believe that his resolve crumbled and that he gave into the longing he had been trying to fight for so long. He’s shocked and there’s a lingering feeling of shame somewhere in the back of his mind. For some reason it does feel less intense now than before when he was just thinking about it. Hahn can’t bring himself to regret the kiss, though. He knows even less how to act around Sokka now, and he knows that he can’t let his composure slip like this again, but he doesn’t regret it.

That is entirely thanks to the Southerner. The whole thing could have been a disaster, but instead of hatred Hahn had been met with compassion and encouragement. It seems surreal, even now. Hahn is beyond grateful for Sokka’s reaction because he knows that he put his life in the other man’s hands (even though he could probably survive on his own in the wild, but that’s not the point). It would be foolish to be disappointed that Sokka doesn’t feel like him, especially because Hahn doesn’t even know if he would be brave enough to do something about it, if that was the case.

In fact, the young troop leader is mostly confused, but less troubled which he considers is something.

He enters the training grounds to meet his troop and he even gathers the courage to look directly at Sokka and nod at him.

An amused smile is Sokka’s only reaction and Hahn feels the heat rising to his cheeks, but otherwise there is nothing that would lead anyone to believe that something inappropriate happened between them. Hahn likes to keep it that way and for some reason he feels like he needs to proof a point that he won’t treat Sokka specially.

Which is why he chooses Sokka for the next demonstration. The objective is to disarm someone with a spear and gain the upper hand.

Hahn throws himself into it like a berserk and Sokka doesn’t stand a chance. Before long, he’s laying on the snowy ground, his shoulders pinned with the shaft of the spear and held down by Hahn’s weight. They look at each other for a moment and Hahn’s mind comes to a screeching halt, when he realizes that he’s basically straddling the Southerner. If it wasn’t for the spear this position could leave room for interpretation and he swallows heavily while unconsciously pushing down harder.

Sokka grimaces.

“Got it, you’re on top”, he croaks out with a labored breath probably due to the weight on his chest. He winks at Hahn with that typical, mischievous smile of his and Hahn lets go off him immediately. His ears and cheeks are burning and he turns away trying to get a grip on himself, while Sokka gets back up.

“So”, Hahn clears his throat noisily and looks at his troop. “Any questions?”

When everybody shakes their heads, he asks them to get into pairs and practice on their own.

Sokka comes over to him.

“Second round?”, he asks.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable”, Hahn answers quietly, referring to the proximity.

Sokka snorts. “Don’t believe you’ll get the upper hand again. The Fire Nation will be here soon and I need the training.”

Of course Sokka is talking about the training. He’s right. There are more important things at stake than Hahn’s affection towards him and he would do best to remember that and focus. But it is a relief that Sokka seems entirely unbiased and at ease with him.

A week goes by until the scouts report that the Fire Nation ships are only a day away and black snow starts to fall. It’s the moment towards everybody has been working and that everybody awaited with fear and anxiousness. Now it will show if the training routines pay off. The preparations are executed with precision. Weapons are stacked where they will be needed, the healers prepare their huts, the waterbenders reinforce and conjure icy cliffs to hold the ships off as long as possible. Guards are posted along the wall towards the Ocean and the civilians seek shelter in the inner ring of Agna Q’ela.

Hahn checks in on the men of his troop, but they seem to be doing good. Singing songs and exchanging stories of old while eating and drinking together. He knows that he should sit with them, but company makes him even more anxious. It is like an itching under his skin, a nervous flatter of nerves and he can’t afford to lose his composure in front of his troop. Hahn is sure that this is what will happen, if he sits down with them.

Instead he meets one last time with Chief Arnook and Master Pakku before he retreats for the night.

The quiet in his chamber weighs heavy on his ears, but it’s soothing anyway. Hahn knows that he should try to get as much sleep as possible, but he feels too restless.

Just when he decides to go for another patrol walk, there’s a knock on his door. For some reason Hahn already knows who it is before opening and his intuition doesn’t fail him.

Sokka stands there and watches him quietly. He doesn’t say a thing, when Hahn steps aside to let him in before he closes the door behind him.

Sokka seems surprisingly calm, but Hahn doesn’t miss the tension in his shoulders. It’s no surprise. The big battle lies ahead of them. They all feel the pressure. Sokka is younger than him and he didn’t have years of formal warrior training, so he is probably even more on the edge than Hahn himself.

He looks around the room for a moment, before his eyes focus on Hahn again, studying him attentively.

“Would you like to sit or talk? I would offer you something to drink, but I have nothing but water.”

“I’m not here for a drink.”

Hahn nods, curtly. He tries to think of something reassuring to say, something to take Sokka’s mind off the upcoming battle, but nothing really comes to mind. So he simply watches him, noticing the slight frown on Sokka’s forehead, a sign of frustration. He wants to ask, when Sokka suddenly shakes his head, his jaw clenched before he looks decidedly at Hahn again.

“I want you to kiss me.”

The words hit him like a freight barge and Hahn stares at Sokka in sheer disbelief with a pounding heart. He must have misheard. Or misunderstood. Then a hollow feeling settles in his stomach and he takes a step back. Why would Sokka bring this up now? The first explanation that comes to Hahn’s mind is that Sokka is trying to play with him. If that’s the case, he couldn’t have chosen a worse moment. But that would be mean and not like Sokka at all. The Southerner doesn’t look like he’s joking and there’s a fluttering in Hahn’s chest, shock mingling with hope and Hahn gulps nervously.

“You don’t want that”, he says.

He has to be reasonable. Obviously, Sokka’s nerves are getting the best of him and Hahn has to make sure that the young warrior doesn’t do anything that he will certainly regret later, for both their sake.

“I do.”

Sokka sounds way too sure of himself and Hahn avoids his eyes, grimacing.

It’s not like he didn’t think about the kiss. Hahn is only a man after all. He’s not made of stone as much as he might wish he was sometimes. But he didn’t expect Sokka to come to him and deliberately ask him to break the social rules again.

He must not put them into another compromising situation. He must protect both of their honor and integrity. Allowing himself to entertain the thought of a repetition or more is just wrong.

Nevertheless, his eyes find Sokka’s again and Hahn is unable to will the nervous tingling under his skin away.

“Sokka, you don’t know what you’re saying. We’re going into battle tomorrow-“

“Exactly”, Sokka interrupts him. “Nobody knows what’s going to happen.”

Hahn sighs. “That doesn’t make it right. And you know the consequences.”

“I don’t care”, Sokka says quietly and takes a step closer to him, his eyes never leaving Hahn’s. “Do you think they would send us away? Two warriors just before a siege?”

Hahn gulps. He can’t argue with that, doesn’t want to. Sokka is within his reach and he’s offering what Hahn denied himself for so long. Fighting it just comes natural to him.

“That’s not the point. It wouldn’t be right. And I must not taint you any more than I already did.”

“Hahn”, Sokka says and takes his hands, squeezing them gently. “You’re not tainting me.”

The troop leader swallows, but he doesn’t pull his hands back. “But-“

“You said you like me. And I think I like you too. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Hahn lets out a breath and closes his eyes. He truly wants to believe that Sokka’s words are true. He wants to give in, but there’s still apprehension, still something holding him back. It’s not like he can shake off years of denial in a heartbeat.

“I never allowed myself-“, he breaks off.

A calloused hand comes to rest on his cheek and Hahn leans into the touch, unable not to. He keeps his eyes shut. His breath hitches, when Sokka’s forehead comes to rest against his own and the Southerner’s breath ghosts over his skin. Hahn lets their fingers intertwine and Sokka squeezes again.

It’s such an innocent gesture, steady and reassuring, but what it does to him is much more powerful. Hahn never thought that he would find himself in a position like this, so close to someone he really wants to be close to. And he’s neither judged nor rejected, but welcome and desired. Sokka is here because he wants to be and for no other reason. Sokka has no idea how much this moment means to him, how much he means to him.

It’s this realization that unties the tight knot in Hahn’s chest and washes away the shame, self-loath and fear that he is constantly carrying.

Suddenly it’s easy to give up his resolve.

All it needs is a little tilt of his head to meet Sokka’s lips. They are warmer this time and Hahn’s heart does a little flip at the audible hitching of breath. The hand that is still intertwined with his starts to shake a bit. Blood is rushing through his veins and Hahn’s heart is thrumming in his chest. He lets his lips linger gently on Sokka’s for only a moment before he pulls back just an inch to look at the younger warrior.

Sokka’s face is flushed and he blinks his eyes open slowly like he’s just waking from a dream and he looks so incredibly beautiful. If Hahn still had doubts they are erased by the longing in Sokka’s eyes. He wants this just as much as Hahn does, maybe more.

This time they meet more eagerly, a tender brush of lips against each other, curious and exploring. Sokka lets him take the lead and Hahn feels like floating on air. He needs to hold onto something to withstand the flood of emotions that threatens to overrun him. Letting go of Sokka’s hand he wraps his arms around the younger man’s waist, his hands flattening on his back to pull him closer.

The hand on his cheek disappears only to curl into his hair, Sokka’s fingernails scraping along his scalp. It’s phenomenal. The tension in Hahn’s body uncoils into a buzzing sensation down to his very core. His moan is muffled by Sokka’s lips and his arms tighten around the Southerner, drawing a gasp out of him.

But Sokka is not willing to let go, immediately catching Hahn’s lips again, more urgent this time. His breathing becomes more strained, the kiss more sloppy. Their noses bump awkwardly against each other, but neither of them cares. When Hahn catches Sokka’s lower lip between his and nibbles gently, a shudder runs through Sokka’s body and they both moan into the kiss.

Hahn breaks away from him to catch a breath and leans his forehead against Sokka’s again. Both their shoulders are heaving and their breaths mingle.

“Spirits”, Sokka whispers after a moment.

Hahn wets his lips and nods weakly. The blood is still rushing through him and he feels like he is on fire in a very good way.

“That- wow”, is all he manages to say. A moment later they are both chuckling.

Hahn opens his eyes and is met with Sokka’s. He’s still holding the Southerner close to his chest and Sokka seems perfectly comfortable with it. His eyes are shining brightly and a brilliant smile lingers on his lips.

Hahn gulps, but doesn’t hesitate. “You’re beautiful.”

Sokka’s eyes widen just the slightest and his smile wavers. For a moment he seems a bit embarrassed, but not for long.

“Says the guy who looks like he walked right out of a warrior’s tale.”

Hahn snorts.

“You do”, Sokka insists. “You are the perfect man.”

“Far from it”, Hahn reminds him even though he doesn’t want to ruin the mood.

Sokka shakes his head decidedly. “You are. And you’ve told yourself otherwise for far too long.”

Hahn shrugs, not willing to talk about his flaw again. He tries to look away, but Sokka won’t let him.

“Listen, Hahn. We’ve got tonight”, Sokka begins and Hahn’s eyes widen, because the young man seems determined and after that kiss Hahn’s mind is still going directions he usually avoids. “And you deserve to be happy, okay? So don’t- don’t continue to beat yourself up over things beyond your power. You deserve better. You could come with us after the battle or go somewhere else. But promise me, you won’t continue on that path of… self-punishment. It’ll destroy you.”

Sokka’s words hit home and Hahn nods heavily, while guilt settles back on his shoulders. He doesn’t want Sokka to worry about him, especially not for this reason.

“I’ll be fine”, he says.

“Promise me?”, Sokka asks.

“I promise.”

He pulls Sokka a bit tighter against his body, unwilling to let go of the kind man. And maybe Sokka is right. Maybe he needs a fresh start, even though Hahn can’t imagine what that would look like. It feels a bit like failing, if he’s completely honest. But if he fails here or somewhere else is not important. His nerves flutter when he considers going with Sokka, his sister and the Avatar.

“You wouldn’t mind having me with you?”

“Of course not.”

“I need to think this through.”

Sokka nods, before he threads his hand tenderly trough Hahn’s hair again. His eyes focus on Hahn with a mixture of thought- and playfulness.

“In the meantime…”

Hahn raises his eyebrow suspiciously.

“… kiss me again?”

And Hahn, for once without hesitating, complies.