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Sangwon noticed it the second the door slid open. He didn’t even have to look up at first, the shift in the air said enough.
Firebenders were taught to read heat, breath, rhythm… but Sangwon had always gone further. Energy itself hummed differently when something was wrong, and right now, Leo’s felt uneven. It felt drained and tired. Still, he lifted his head, eyes immediately finding him.
“Hey,” Leo said, too casual, already shrugging off his outer layer like nothing was wrong. Sangwon’s gaze sharpened. He could feel it clearer now, like a flickering flame struggling against wind.
“You’re hurt.” Leo paused for half a second, then waved it off. “I’m not, baby. Don’t worry, it’s nothing.” Sangwon stood slowly, stepping closer. The warmth around him pulsed outward, brushing against Leo’s aura, reading it the way others might read a book.
“Yes, you are” he said quietly. “I can feel it. Your energy’s off… it’s uneven. You’re holding it together, but it’s strained.” Leo huffed, already knowing he’d been caught.
“That’s not fair. Don’t use your bending on me.” But the complaint didn’t hold much weight when, in the next moment, water curled up from the basin nearby, stretching into a long, fluid arm that wrapped around Sangwon’s waist and tugged him forward.
“Hey-” Sangwon barely had time to react before he was pulled flush against Leo’s chest. “Hmm. Now look who’s talking,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips as he settled into the hold. He leaned in, nuzzling his nose lightly against Leo’s. “Using bending to get your way?” Leo just grinned faintly, eyes soft despite the exhaustion behind them.
Up close, Sangwon could feel it even stronger, the chill under Leo’s skin, the way his energy dipped and spiked instead of flowing steady.
“You’re cold too” Sangwon added, his voice dropping, breath brushing warm against Leo’s lips. “It’s nothing, baby. Don’t worry” Leo murmured back, already leaning in, chasing that closeness he’d clearly been missing all day. He nudged forward, ready to finally close the distance, but Sangwon caught his chin mid motion.
“Mm-mm” he hummed, tilting his head with a bright, mischievous smile. “Not happening.” Leo blinked. “What?”
“Not until you’re in an acceptable condition again.” And before Leo could protest, Sangwon pressed a hand lightly to his chest pushing him back. A small burst of force, just enough to guide, sent Leo dropping back into the nearest chair. Water splashed softly as the bending arm dissolved, leaving Leo sitting there, slightly stunned.
Sangwon crossed his arms, clearly pleased with himself. “You disappear all day, come back with your energy a mess, and think you’re getting kisses?” he said, one brow lifting. “Absolutely not.” Leo groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “You’re evil.”
“Careful” Sangwon shot back, stepping closer again, warmth flickering at his fingertips. “I can still feel everything going on in there.” He leaned down just enough to meet Leo’s gaze, voice softening despite the teasing edge. “Sit still,” he murmured. “Let me fix you first.”
And even though Leo looked like he wanted to argue, his shoulders slowly dropped, tension easing just a little under Sangwon’s watchful, glowing warmth.
Sangwon didn’t even think about it, his hands hovered close to Leo’s skin, gentle heat seeping into him, chasing away that unnatural cold. It wasn’t enough to burn, just steady, controlled warmth, the kind that wrapped around aching muscles and stubborn tension.
“As much as I love Avatar Kyoshi and Rangi, but…” he muttered, already reaching for the supplies. He soaked a cotton ball in disinfectant, expression tightening just slightly. “This is gonna hurt a little” he warned.
Leo barely had time to react before Sangwon pressed it to the wound.
“tss, shit…” Leo hissed, his whole body tensing under the sting.
“They’ve got to stop getting you into trouble all the time” Sangwon continued, completely unfazed, like Leo hadn’t just nearly jumped out of his skin.
“The one who throws himself into dangerous fights like that” he added, voice calm but edged, “can handle a little more pain to heal his wounds.”
“It was just training…” Leo mumbled, suddenly sounding much less convincing.
Sangwon’s eyes flicked up, sharp. “Ohh” he dragged out, tone turning dangerously sweet. “So this is Rangi’s work. All for fun and giggles, right?” Leo winced, this time not just from the disinfectant.
“You’re hurting yourself for fun” Sangwon said, and pressed the cotton just a little harder. “agh! Sangwon!” Leo hissed, trying to pull back, but Sangwon didn’t stop. Not really. If anything, he kept going with a little too much focus, like the irritation in his chest had to go somewhere.
And then everything shifted. Sangwon barely registered the moment his balance disappeared, his body suddenly moving without his permission. And the next second he was in Leo’s lap, turned sideways, hands braced against his chest.
“What the hell?!” Sangwon snapped, eyes wide. “Did you just bloodbend me here?!”
He already knew the answer. Leo didn’t even try to deny it. Instead, he reached up and squished Sangwon’s cheeks between his fingers, forcing him to stay put.
“Yes, I did” he mocked lightly, mimicking Sangwon’s earlier tone. And before Sangwon could protest again, Leo leaned in,
then he kisses him. Soft, quick and insistent.
“What” a kiss. “Do you” another. “Think-”
“You’re-”
“Doing-” Each word broken by another press of lips until Sangwon finally turns his head, breath uneven.
“Leo!” Sangwon finally managed, shaking his head hard to break the rhythm. “Ya!” He pushed back slightly, breathing uneven, not from the kisses, but from everything that had been building up.
“Do you have any idea how frustrating it is?” he burst out, voice sharp, cracking at the edges. “Staying here all day, worrying about you because you’re the Avatar’s accomplice” His hands clenched into Leo’s shirt. “I’m not a waterbender. I can’t heal you. It’s not something I can just learn” he continued, words rushing out now. “When you’re gone, I can’t do anything. I can’t help. I can’t get you back.” He pauses, blinking hard, but the tears come anyway.
“The Avatar can be reborn, Leo… but you…” His voice falters. “If something happens to you… I don’t know what I’d do.” The tear traced down his cheek, and Leo felt it like a crack straight through his chest. All the teasing, the deflection, the stubbornness, it fell away in an instant.
It wasn’t that Avatar Kyoshi wasn’t dear to him. She was. That was the problem.
Sangwon loved her, he loved them. Kyoshi, and Rangi. They weren’t just allies, not just the Avatar and her guard. They were family.
And that was exactly why it hurt. Because the Avatar didn’t just carry power, she carried responsibility, danger, a lifetime of battles that would never really end. And somehow, piece by piece, that life kept pulling the people Sangwon loved further and further away from him.
First Rangi, who would throw herself into fire without hesitation if it meant keeping Kyoshi safe. Then Leo.
Leo, who should’ve understood. Who did understand. And still chose to stand right in the middle of it all. The Avatar wouldn’t just take friends. She could take everything.
“Hey… baby… my love… I’m so sorry…” Leo’s voice softened completely, all teasing gone, as his hands came up to cup Sangwon’s face. His thumbs brushed gently under his eyes, catching the tears before they could fall any further. Sangwon didn’t pull away this time, he didn’t argue. But his hands stayed clenched in Leo’s shirt, like if he let go, even a little, Leo might disappear again.
Sangwon had never stood on the battlefield beside them. Not because he couldn’t, not because he wasn’t strong enough. He was. He and Rangi had trained together for years, side by side under some of the best firebenders in the nation. He knew the discipline, the control, the precision. He could’ve stood there with them, could’ve fought just as fiercely, just as well.
But somewhere along the way… things changed.
Rangi fell in love with Kyoshi. And suddenly, it wasn’t just duty anymore, it was devotion. The kind that burned hotter than any flame.
And Leo… Leo had looked at Sangwon one day, serious in a way that didn’t invite argument, and drawn a line. No fighting. No dangerous missions. Not for him.
Sangwon had laughed at first, thought it was a joke. But it wasn’t. And somehow, without even realizing when it happened, he’d been moved to the sidelines. He planned missions, handled logistics, managed the endless paperwork no one else had patience for. Important, sure, necessary too and safe, too safe..
“I don’t understand you…” Sangwon murmured, his voice quieter now, but no less heavy. His grip loosened just slightly, but only so he could look at Leo properly.
“How is it so easy for you?” he asked, searching his face. “To make me stay… while you walk straight into danger?” His brows pulled together, hurt threading through every word.
“You of all people should know what this feels like” he added, softer, but sharper somehow. “You know how it is to wait… to not know if someone’s coming back.” His voice dipped, barely above a whisper now.
“So how can you do that to me?” The question didn’t come out accusing, just… aching. Because that was the part he couldn’t reconcile. Not the danger, not even the fear. But the fact that Leo understood it and still chose to be the reason Sangwon had to feel it.
Leo’s hands were still warm against his face. But for once, that warmth didn’t feel like enough.
“You don’t understand…” Sangwon shook his head, even as his body betrayed him, tears spilling faster, breath uneven as he hid his face in Leo’s neck, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping him grounded.
And oh Leo understood, more than Sangwon probably realized. He knew that fear, that suffocating, restless kind of waiting. The kind that sat in your chest and refused to quiet down until the person you loved was back in your arms. But leaving Avatar Kyoshi… that had never been an option. So instead of arguing, instead of trying to justify anything, Leo just held him.
One hand cradled the back of Sangwon’s head, fingers threading gently through his hair, guiding him closer against his shoulder. The other rested along his back, slow and steady, careful and subtle.
Leo bent his waterbending inward, just enough to gently influence Sangwon’s bloodstream. Nothing forceful, nothing invasive. Just a soft easing, like loosening a knot pulled too tight, letting the sharp edge of panic dull into something more bearable.
“Shh… I’ve got you” he murmured against his hair. Sangwon’s grip tightened before it slowly, slowly, began to soften. He cried it out. All of it. The fear, the frustration, the helplessness he never said out loud. And Leo let him.
When the tears finally began to quiet, Leo shifted slightly. “Hey… hey” he whispered, guiding him gently. “Come here.” He helped Sangwon sit up, steady hands never leaving him, until he was straddling Leo’s lap, face to face.
Leo lifted one hand, fingers moving in a soft, practiced motion. The moisture soaked into his shirt, the dampness on Sangwon’s skin, it all responded, gathering into the air above them, as a small cluster of water hovered overhead.
Then, it stilled, froze, and shattered. Tiny snowflakes drifted down, slow and weightless, catching in Sangwon’s hair, settling against his lashes, melting softly against warm skin. For a moment, everything felt quiet and gentle. Sangwon’s lips curved just a little. He had learned to love this. Snow, the cold and winter. Things that had never belonged to him, growing up surrounded by the warmth and burning colors of the Fire Nation. Leo had shown him all of it, had placed something entirely new into his world. Something soft, something wondering. A kind of quiet, almost childlike excitement that still lived in him whenever he saw things Leo thought were ordinary.
Leo hadn’t just loved him, he had changed him, healed something in him he didn’t even know was broken.
Sangwon leaned forward, resting his forehead against Leo’s. “I love you so much it hurts…” he whispered, voice fragile, like it might break if he spoke any louder. “and I don’t know how to deal with all this.” His nose nudged lightly against Leo’s again, instinctive, like he needed the closeness just to breathe properly.
Leo’s expression softened, something warm and aching in his eyes. “I love you more, baby” he murmured back. “You know that, right?” And Sangwon did. He knew, knew how much this meant to Leo, to Kyoshi, to everything they were fighting for, knew the Avatar’s path wasn’t something you could just walk away from but still…
A small, selfish part of him just wanted his Leo hyung, his love all to himself. Just sometimes, just for a little while. And maybe that was okay, because the way he leaned in now, slow, careful, like he was afraid the moment might disappear, said everything.
Their lips met softly, so gentle it barely felt real at first. Like warmth melting into warmth, like snow dissolving the second it touched skin. Sangwon’s breath hitched quietly, his mind going light, almost distant, like everything else had faded away except this.
His fingers curled slightly into Leo’s shirt again, but not from fear this time. From needing to stay close.
The kiss deepened just a fraction, still soft, still unhurried, like they had all the time in the world, even if they both knew they didn’t. And for a moment Sangwon stopped thinking, stopped worrying ,stopped hurting.
The kiss lingered, soft, warm and unrushed.
Sangwon barely pulled back, just enough for their lips to brush with every breath. His hand slid up, resting lightly against Leo’s chest, right over his heartbeat. Still a little uneven. He frowned faintly.
“You’re still off” he whispered, voice quieter now, no accusation left in it, just concern. His thumb pressed gently against Leo’s shirt as if he could steady him like that alone. Leo exhaled slowly, his breath warm where it met Sangwon’s lips.
“Then fix it” he murmured.
Sangwon’s lashes lowered slightly and then he did. He focused, not like before, sharp or probing, but soft and careful. His warmth spread from his palm, subtle heat sinking through fabric, through skin. He followed the rhythm of Leo’s energy, feeling where it dipped, where it stuttered, and gently nudged it back into place.
Their faces stayed close, breaths mingling in the small space between them. Each exhale from Sangwon carried a faint warmth, brushing over Leo’s lips, while Leo instinctively answered it, pulling at the moisture in the air, shaping it without even thinking.
A thin veil of steam formed between them. Barely visible and soft. It curled and shifted with every breath they shared, like something alive, something only existing in that moment.
“There…” Sangwon murmured after a while, his voice almost melting into the air between them. “That’s better.”
Leo’s shoulders had dropped without him realizing. The tension he’d been holding all day slowly unraveled under Sangwon’s touch.
“You feel it?” Sangwon asked softly.
Leo nodded faintly, leaning forward just enough that their noses brushed again.
“Yeah…” he whispered. “Feels like you’re holding me together.”
Sangwon huffed quietly at that, though there was no real annoyance in it. His fingers curled slightly against Leo’s chest, grounding himself just as much. “I am” he said under his breath. “Someone has to.” But he didn’t pull away, didn’t create distance. Instead, he leaned in again, closer this time, slower, until their foreheads touched once more, the space between them filled with warmth and soft, drifting steam.
Leo lifted his hand, guiding a faint trace of water beneath Sangwon’s palm. Not enough to be seen, just enough to feel. A gentle pulse. Sangwon stilled for a moment, then softened. “…Idiot” he murmured, but his voice broke slightly at the edges.
Leo smiled faintly, eyes half lidded. “Yours” he replied. That earned him the smallest, breathy laugh, barely there, but real. And then Sangwon leaned in again. This time the kiss was deeper, still gentle and slow, but no longer hesitant. His other hand slid up to Leo’s neck, thumb brushing just under his jaw as he tilted his head slightly, fitting closer.
The steam between them shifted, curling around their faces, warming the air as if the world outside had completely disappeared.
Leo’s hand came up to rest at Sangwon’s waist, holding him there.
Sangwon’s warmth lingered against his skin, steadying him, grounding him, while Leo followed every small movement, every breath, like it was something he didn’t want to lose again.
Sangwon lingered close, their lips still brushing, still sharing the same breath.
Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he let his tongue ghost over Leo’s top lip, just barely, like he was tasting him rather than deepening the kiss. It was fleeting and soft.
But it sent a quiet shiver down Leo’s spine anyway.
Leo inhaled sharply, his hand tightening just a little at Sangwon’s waist, like his body reacted before his mind could catch up.
Sangwon stayed there for a moment, close enough that their noses still touched, his lips returning to Leo’s in small, unhurried motions. He nibbled lightly at his lower lip, not enough to hurt, just enough to feel, to linger, to take his time.
His energy, once restless and heavy, had settled now, warm and steady, flowing outward without resistance. And without even thinking, he let it brush against Leo again, softer this time.
Leo exhaled slowly against him, eyes slipping closed as he leaned into it. Sangwon drew back just a fraction, enough to look at him, before leaning in again to press a firmer kiss to his lips.
Then he pulled away, just enough to let his lips wander.
A soft kiss to Leo’s cheek. Another, lighter one just beside it, barely there, like a flutter.
Up to his forehead. His nose. Each touch lingering for a second longer than needed.
“Can’t get enough of you…” Sangwon murmured, his voice warm, quieter now, almost melting into the space between them. He nudged his nose against Leo’s again at the end, a small habit he couldn’t seem to stop, like he needed that constant point of contact.
Leo let out a soft breath, something between a laugh and a sigh, his forehead tipping forward to rest against Sangwon’s.
“You don’t have to” he whispered back.
“I’m not going anywhere right now.” His thumb brushed absentmindedly along Sangwon’s side, slow and reassuring, while the last traces of warmth and moisture in the air curled faintly around them, like the world itself had softened just for this moment.