Chapter Text
JUNE ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Zuko loves making music.
It’s one of his favorite things. He loves his band, he loves sitting down and scribbling lyrics into a notebook, humming a tune and trying out different notes until something sticks. He loves playing guitar and he loves the stage and the lights and the fans.
He loves making music, but being a famous musician can get stressful.
Constant expectations, needing each song to be better than the last, not wanting to let his band or his fans down. He’s gotten pretty good at tuning it all out, but sometimes it gets to him.
Like tonight. They’re at a hotel in Boston, playing a gig tomorrow at a sold-out venue. Their last album came out around a year ago and Zuko’s had no luck with writing new music since. Zuko writes all their songs, and their last album, the one they’re almost done touring for, was fucking good. One of their songs went viral and hit the Billboard Top 100, which was huge. So he has expectations to live up to, and he can’t help but think every new song he writes sucks.
So after messing around on his guitar in his hotel room and practically slamming his head against the wall, Zuko headed down to the hotel bar to relax. It’s already pretty late and he knows he won’t be able to sleep even though tour’s been exhausting.
Zuko’s sitting in an empty booth, tracing the rim of his glass. The weight of his songwriting notebook sits heavy in his pocket, almost taunting him. You’re really gonna die a one hit wonder?
Zuko takes a sip of his beer, willing his brain to leave him alone for just a second. But then he hears a voice clearly directed at him—internally pissed because he just wants to be left alone for god’s sake.
“Hey, you’re that guy!” The man says. Zuko sighs, staring down at his drink.
“You’ll have to be a bit more specific than that,” Zuko mumbles, looking up. And oh fuck he should not have.
The guy has light brown skin and a big smile, his hair pulled up into a ponytail with the sides shaved. He has multiple ear piercings and an eyebrow slit and Zuko can’t really tell from the lighting but maybe freckles? He’s wearing a Boston Bruins shirt and has muscles too, oh God.
The man gestures with his hands. “Y’know, that guy in that band who went super viral. And you went super viral, that one clip of you performing—everyone went crazy cause of how hot it was. Remember?”
Zuko can’t help but scoff. “Yes, I do remember.”
The man slides into the booth across from him and drops his drink on the table—okay then.
“So what’s up? You look pretty down in the dumps for a famous rockstar,” He rests his elbow on the table and holds his chin in his hand, toned arm on perfect display. “Although, famous rockstars are notoriously depressed.”
Zuko smiles. He takes another sip of his drink, setting it down and thumbing at his lip and pretending he doesn’t notice the man staring. “Just stressed.”
The man whistles. “I get it.”
Zuko furrows his eyebrow. He gets this a lot from average people—them acting like they understand his situation. Hell, even Uncle does it, and he owns a hole-in-the-wall teashop!
“I’m not sure you do,” Zuko chuckles, and okay maybe it’s a little rude but he’s tired and pissed and didn’t come down here to chat, as cute as the guy might be.
The man laughs—laughs. “Oh trust me, I do.”
Zuko just purses his lips and nods, not wanting the usual back-and-forth he has to experience with this conversation. The man smiles, offering his hand across the table. “I’m Sokka.”
Zuko shakes it, just trying to be polite, raising an eyebrow when the man stares at him like he should know who that is. “Nice to meet you. Zuko.”
Sokka snaps, pointing at him. “That’s your name! It was on the tip of my tongue.”
Zuko rolls his eyes with a smile.
“Any reason you’re in Boston?” Sokka asks, taking a sip of his drink.
“Tour. We’ve got a show tomorrow.”
“Oh, nice. I’ll have to see if I can catch it,” He smiles. Zuko contemplates offering to put him on the guest list but that’s nothing but a bad idea.
“Sold out. Might be some tickets on resale websites though,” Zuko shrugs as Sokka nods, leaning back in the booth and crossing his toned arms. He must work out a lot. God Zuko, stop thinking about his muscles.
“So tomorrow you’ve got a show, what about tonight?” Sokka cocks his head, blue eyes taking their time to scan over Zuko. Zuko swallows, heat suddenly rising to his cheeks.
“Nothing. Was just gonna drink and try to fall asleep,” Zuko replies, lifting his glass up a bit.
Sokka hums, drumming his fingers against the table and sending Zuko a slightly suggestive look. “Well, if you were looking for something to do, my apartment isn’t too far from here.”
And oh. Zuko runs his tongue over his teeth. “You’re not staying here? At the hotel?”
Maybe not the most important question.
Sokka shrugs. “Nah. One of my friends who’s in town is staying here so I went to hang out with her, then wanted to grab a drink.”
Zuko nods. He’s a famous musician, of course he picks up guys on the road, but none of them are this gorgeous.
Sokka blinks when Zuko doesn’t say anything, huffing out a small laugh. “No problem if not, man. Hope your show goes well.”
He starts to stand up and Zuko shakes his head quickly, grabbing Sokka’s wrist as he walks by the table. Sokka looks back, eyebrows raised.
Zuko stares back. “I’m room 1221. Let me finish my drink.”
Sokka smiles a crazy gorgeous smile, hint of mischief in his eye as he winks. “You betcha.”
⟢ ・⸝⸝
Zuko wakes up the next morning alone, not to his surprise.
Fuck, last night was good. Sokka was good—perfect, and gorgeous and funny and somehow knew exactly what to do to make Zuko see stars.
Zuko blinks and hauls himself out of bed, slipping his pants back on. He runs a hand through his hair, more messy because of Sokka than because of sleep, and heads to the bathroom. But not before he sees the hotel-issued notepad with writing on it on the dining table (yes the room is that nice). Zuko furrows his brow and picks it up, reading over the writing.
Zuko,
Don’t go write any songs about the best hookup of your life being with a hot hockey player, alright? Let’s keep both our reputations in check.
Sokka
Okay, what the fuck?
Zuko stares at it. He doesn’t know anything about sports, let alone hockey, so it’s entirely possible he fucked a famous hockey player last night without knowing. He grabs his phone from the nightstand, opening Safari and typing in “Sokka hockey”
And there he is.
Sokka Atuat
Boston ice hockey centre
Sokka Atuat is a Canadian professional ice hockey player who is a centre and captain for the Boston Bruins of the National Hockey League. Atuat was selected first overall by the Bruins in the 2024 NHL entry draft. He is beloved by his fans and team alike for his charming personality and dedication to the game.
Multiple pictures of Sokka in his hockey gear pop up alongside his name, him flashing a grin to the stands or staring intently somewhere outside of the camera’s view.
Zuko slumps back onto his bed.
He just fucked a famous hockey player. A really hot famous hockey player. And he didn’t even know.
“Holy shit,” Zuko mumbles, running a hand down his face.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Suki narrows her eyes at Sokka. “So. Tell me about this guy.”
Sokka sighs, leaning back in his chair. He’s at a nice cafe with Suki, stirring his coffee with a spoon.
After waking up with Zuko, Sokka immediately called Suki on the way back to his apartment. She picked up all confused and half asleep, Sokka supplying her with a “I just had the best hookup of my life and I need girl time.”
Suki laughed and they made plans to debrief at breakfast.
And now they’re here, Suki raising her eyebrows and waiting for an answer.
“Y’know the band Kemurikage?” Sokka asks, his spoon clinking against the sides of the ceramic cup.
“Oh yeah, that one song of theirs is super good. Why?” Suki responds.
“Sorta was the guitarist and one of the lead singers,” Sokka winces, looking up.
Suki gapes, mouth and eyes wide. “Two people?! I didn’t think that was your vibe.”
“No, Suki! One guy, he’s both the guitarist and singer. God,” Sokka runs a hand down his face, groaning.
“Oh okay,” She says, sitting back in her chair. “Wait, no, that’s sort of wild, how did you meet this guy again?”
“He was at the hotel bar. I recognized him and went over and we talked for a bit then y’know, offered to bring him to my place but he said his hotel room would be easier. He definitely didn’t know who I am,” Sokka huffs a laugh, rubbing at his bicep. “But I left a note. So now he definitely does.”
Suki stares at him. “Well damn.”
“Yeah. He was really cute,” Sokka whines, resting his chin in his hand.
“Invite him to one of your games,” Suki suggests as she takes a sip of her coffee, raising her eyebrows.
“He’s touring, I have no idea if we’ll be in the same cities at the same time.”
“Sokka, his tour dates are public. You can look at where you’re playing and see if anything matches up. But that might be a bit stalker-y, I dunno,” She purses her lips.
“Totally stalker-y,” Sokka says, taking a sip of his coffee. “But he’s playing a show in Boston tonight.”
“Why didn’t you lead with that?!” Suki exclaims, throwing her hands up and getting the attention of a few people sitting nearby. Sokka winces. “That’s perfect, let’s go to his show then you can shoot him a DM saying he did great.”
“That’s pretty stalker-y, too,” Sokka scrunches his nose.
Suki huffs. “Guess you’ll just die alone then, what do you want from me?”
“Fuck you,” Sokka laughs.
“At least follow him on Instagram. On your main account,” Suki raises her eyebrows, arms resting on the table.
Sokka leans back in his chair, tilting his head back and groaning. “That’s still weird. It was clearly just a one time thing.”
“I’m coming up with some great solutions here and you’re seriously hating every single one,” Suki cocks her head slightly, eyebrows raised and expression flat.
Sokka stares at her. He sighs. “Fine.”
“Yay!” Suki exclaims as Sokka pulls out his phone. He looks up Zuko’s name on Instagram and clicks on his profile. He’s immediately bombarded with gorgeous pictures of Zuko, some of him on stage, some of him in day-to-day life.
“Holy fuck, he’s so hot,” Sokka groans, sliding his phone over to Suki. “I can’t look any more. You do it.”
Suki looks down at his phone, eyebrows raising. “He is hot. What’s up with that scar, though? Looks gnarly.”
Sokka shrugs. “No one knows. Makes him that much more mysterious.”
Suki shrugs back. “Guess so.”
Her eyes narrow as she looks down at Sokka’s phone. “Uh. Looks like he already follows you.”
“What?!” Sokka shrieks, grabbing the phone and ignoring a few people sending him weird looks. And there it is, the follow button says not “follow”, but “follow back”.
“Holy shit,” Sokka mumbles, swiping to his notifications and looking at his recent followers. “Holy shit, he followed me 15 minutes ago!”
Suki grins. “Oh he wants you bad bad.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Sokka grins, clicking the “follow back” button. His eyes jet back up to Suki. “Wait, do I message him?”
“What in the world are you gonna say? ‘Hey, had so much fun fucking you last night, let’s do it again! Also I’m also famous, surprise! Hockey!’”
“This is why I keep you around,” Sokka purses his lips, pausing as he stares at his phone. “Okay. No messaging him.”
He stares at his phone a second longer before shutting it off, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
He doubts anything will come from this.