Work Text:
Zuko has not seen Sokka take care of himself once.
Sokka takes care of everyone. He drops everything for any of their friends whenever they need it. And despite insisting that he’s fine, he’s always fine, Sokka can’t always be fine. That’s impossible.
Zuko’s known Sokka for a little over a year now. They met last year as college freshmen, bonding over orientation and stupid mandatory classes, and decided to room together as sophomores. Despite Zuko’s best attempts at pushing him away, Sokka stuck to him like glue. He dealt with Zuko’s abrasiveness and stupidly short temper (he’s gotten better about it, part of that due to Sokka). Sokka somehow likes Zuko’s company—Zuko doesn’t know why, but he isn’t complaining, because he loves spending time with Sokka too.
And the thing about Sokka is he’d rather die than ask someone for help. Zuko doesn’t know why that is. So despite them being so close, Zuko’s never seen Sokka ask for help, never seen him cry, never heard him truly vent. Sure, Sokka’s complained about teachers or his sister over lunch or on their walks to class, but that’s really it.
Zuko, on the other hand, has had a good handful of break downs so far during his college career, and in front of Sokka twice. First, when Zuko’s dad broke no-contact—he was a disaster. He wouldn’t tell Sokka anything until he broke down during one of their study sessions. That was when Zuko told Sokka everything about his dad, about his scar.
Second, during finals week last year, when Zuko was swamped in work and stressed by a health scare his uncle was going through. He was okay—but Zuko was still a total mess, and Sokka was so kind to him during it all. Even when Zuko was snappy and mean, Sokka understood. He was perfect, he always is.
Sokka always tells Zuko to ask for help, to tell him if he needs anything, and Zuko wishes so badly that Sokka would take his own advice.
Zuko clicks the door to his and Sokka’s dorm open, walking inside and shutting it behind him. He sees Sokka sitting at his desk, head in his hand, all hunched over. Zuko frowns when Sokka doesn’t turn to say hi like he usually does.
“Hey,” Zuko says, eyeing Sokka as he drops his bag on the floor. Zuko kicks his shoes off, drops his keys and wallet on his bedside table, and sits on his bed.
Sokka doesn’t reply. Sokka always replies. It’s something Zuko loves about him, something he almost depends on sometimes—Sokka’s talkativeness.
“Sokka?” Zuko asks, a bit quieter this time. “You okay?”
Sokka sighs, turning to Zuko. He has light bags under his eyes and his hair is out of his wolftail—he’s clearly been running his fingers through it. Sokka tries for a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, sorry. Just focused. How was class?”
Zuko furrows his eyebrow slightly. He knows Sokka. If anything, he’s probably been working for hours and gotten nothing done.
“Fine,” Zuko responds, shrugging slightly. “Jeong Jeong was surprisingly understandable today. What’re you working on?”
“Physics,” Sokka turns back to his work, picking up his pencil and gnawing at the end of it.
Zuko purses his lips. “Yeah, I can’t help with that. How long have you been working for?”
“Dunno. A bit,” Sokka mutters.
Zuko frowns. “Did you have lunch yet?”
“No.”
“Wanna get some food? I’ve been wanting to try that sushi place Aang loves.”
“No, I’m okay.”
Zuko stays quiet. It’s unlike Sokka to turn down an invitation for food, or an invitation to get away from work, or an invitation to just hang out with Zuko. Which always makes Zuko’s gut stupidly fluttery, but now’s not the time to dwell on that.
Zuko hops off his bed and walks over, looking down at Sokka’s very blank worksheet. He purses his lips in a frown.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Zuko asks, eyes moving over to Sokka.
“What? Nothing’s going on,” Sokka looks up at Zuko like it’s a bizarre accusation, eyebrows all furrowed as he bounces his leg.
Zuko stares at him for a second and sighs when Sokka doesn’t say anything else. He can’t force Sokka to tell him. “Okay.”
Zuko moves away, grabbing his keys and wallet from his bedside table. Zuko knows Sokka pretty well, if he says so himself. And the best thing to do to get him out of this rut is to get him out of this room.
“C’mon, you need a break. I’ll pay, okay?”
“Zuko—” Sokka’s about to protest before Zuko cuts him off.
“Nope. You’re all mopey, which you’re allowed to be, but food will make you feel better. Real food, not the instant ramen shit you eat after working for 5 hours straight,” Zuko cocks his head towards the door, raising a knowing brow.
Sokka sighs, glancing back down at his work.
“Fine. I guess if the chronic over-worker is telling me to take a break, I probably should,” Sokka runs a hand down his face, grabbing his keys and phone as well.
—
The two head to the sushi place, getting a seat and ordering their food. Sokka is quiet through the whole ordeal, even when Zuko tries to gently prod him, asking him easy questions about class. He barely responds, just plays with his earring or the few rings on his fingers.
Zuko’s trying not to worry. He really is, but he can’t help that he is worried. Zuko knows that Sokka bottles everything up, he ignores all his feelings and pushes them down. It can’t be healthy. It’s not healthy. Sokka’s seen Zuko cry and be brash and upset and mean. Zuko’s barely seen Sokka anything besides happy.
And Zuko hates that he doesn’t know what to do to make Sokka feel better—because he’s obviously upset about something. But Zuko’s had no experience with this, because Sokka still hasn’t let him in. Sokka pushes Zuko away at every attempt to talk about his feelings. Zuko has a pretty strong suspicion that Sokka doesn’t let anyone in at all.
“How’s your food?” Zuko asks, picking up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks.
Sokka hums between a bite. He looks so tired. Zuko wants to reach out and run a thumb over his eyebags, will them to go away.
Okay, new tactic. No more questions, Zuko can be the talkative one for a bit. Sokka’s allowed to be quiet, of course he is. Zuko’s just… not very experienced in being the talkative one. But he’ll try for Sokka.
“Today in class, Jeong Jeong got so pissed at Jet, he scolded him in front of the whole class,” Zuko starts, knowing Sokka loves some gossip, especially about Jet. Sokka raises an eyebrow at this. Fuck yeah. “Jet was throwing paper airplanes at some other kid every time Jeong Jeong turned around, but Jeong Jeong caught him. Everyone knows to not fuck around in his class. He gave Jet a four-page response paper to write about the play we’re reading.”
Sokka huffs a laugh, poking at his sushi with one of his chopsticks. “Serves him right. He’s such a bitch.”
Zuko takes a bite of sushi. “Such a bitch. He wasn’t told ‘no’ enough as a child.”
Sokka smiles down at his plate. “He fucking hates me, it’s funny how upset he gets when he sees me. He always sends me the dirtiest looks. Like dude, of course I’m gonna call you out for being a horrible boyfriend to my little sister and my best friend!”
Sokka gestures around with his chopsticks, acting a bit more lively now.
Zuko smiles. “I still can’t believe he and I started dating a week after he broke up with Katara. I didn’t even know until after we broke up and I became friends with her.”
Sokka chuckles. “God, she hated you. I don’t know why, it’s not your fault Jet’s hot.”
Zuko huffs a laugh, smiling at Sokka. “Exactly, what was I supposed to do?”
“His good looks and charmingfulness fooled us all,” Sokka sighs, taking a bite of sushi and propping his head on his hand.
“Don’t think that’s a word,” Zuko raises his eyebrow as Sokka scrunches his nose—cute.
“Who are you, the vocab police?” Sokka raises his eyebrows in return, pretty smile playing at his lips. That’s much more like it.
Zuko smiles back. “I’m an English major, so yes.”
“Oh yeah, guess so,” Sokka shrugs. “Speaking of, how’s your paper going?”
He’s so fucking selfless it pisses Zuko off.
“Good, almost done with it. How’s your work been?” Zuko tries to seem unbothered, like he’s not trying to gauge Sokka’s reaction.
Sokka’s expression falters, but he quickly composes himself with a smile. “Fine. I have a ton of work, but when do I not?”
Zuko frowns. “Do you need any help? Not that I know anything about your science and math stuff, but I could help you break the work up or help you study.”
Sokka raises his eyebrows, like he’s genuinely surprised. “I…” He blinks and looks down, biting his lip. “That’s okay. Thank you, that’s really sweet.”
Zuko exhales. “Yeah. Just… let me know.”
—
The rest of the day is better. Sokka seems to be in a good mood, but maybe he’s just hiding it better than before. Zuko can’t tell, and it’s making him fucking crazy. And he can’t ask, because Sokka will say he’s totally fine no matter how he’s actually feeling.
Sokka and Zuko go to their separate classes then have dinner with their friends in the dining hall, and Sokka’s lively and talking like usual. Zuko feels better, seeing Sokka be himself. Maybe he really did just need to take a break from work and get out of his room.
—
The next day, Sokka and Zuko are both doing work in their dorm when Sokka gets a call.
Zuko glances over to where Sokka’s sitting on his bed, typing at his laptop. He lifts his phone up, smiling and clicking the screen.
Zuko turns back to his work at his desk, currently annotating a sonnet for class.
“Hey, Kit-Kat,” Sokka says, and Zuko can hear the smile on his face. Katara. “No, I’m not busy. What’s up?”
Zuko reads over a line maybe 5 times—what the hell is this guy saying?
Then he hears the door open and shut, turning around in his desk chair to find no Sokka.
Zuko furrows his eyebrow. Sokka probably just wants privacy to talk to his sister. Perfectly normal and fine. Zuko does not need to rush out there without thinking like he would’ve done two years ago. He’s not that person anymore.
Zuko turns back to his sonnet, reading the whole thing over and over but not processing any of the words.
Sokka’s fine.
5 minutes of Zuko staring at his work go by, with him constantly checking the time. Then 7 minutes. He’s probably just paranoid—Sokka’s just talking to his sister. Nothing to worry about.
It’s just weird that Sokka didn’t say anything when he left. Didn’t tell Zuko he’d be back, didn’t even say anything to Katara. It’s unlike him.
10 minutes. Katara and Sokka rarely call for longer than 5, they always just meet up somewhere on campus if they need to talk for longer than that. But. It’s probably fine.
13 minutes. This is getting unusual. Zuko shoots Sokka a text asking if he’s okay but gets no response.
Zuko decides to go look for Sokka once it hits 15 minutes since he left. If he’s still talking to Katara, that’s fine. But with all of yesterday, Zuko wants to make sure Sokka’s okay. Zuko’s probably being paranoid, but better safe than sorry.
Zuko drops his pencil on the desk and cracks the door open, poking his head out. He glances around—no Sokka.
He purses his lips, closing the door behind him as he walks through the empty hall.
Zuko’s about to go back to the room and text Sokka again when he walks past the stairwell. And there he is—sitting on one of the bottom steps, arms crossed over his knees and head buried in them. Zuko blinks.
That’s a little worrying.
Zuko gently pushes open the door to the stairwell, Sokka’s head shooting up. His eyes are wide and red and watery and he quickly goes to wipe at them with the heel of his palm.
Sokka frowns once he realizes it’s Zuko, eyebrows furrowed. “I came out here so you wouldn’t find me.”
Fucking ow.
Zuko scoffs, holding his hands up in surrender, trying to pretend that didn’t hurt as bad as it did. “Okay, fuck you, I was just trying to help.”
Zuko doesn’t mean to be so rude, but old habits die hard, he supposes.
Sokka’s expression falters right before Zuko turns around to walk away, his heart panging.
“No, Zuko, wait—” Sokka starts. Zuko stills, jaw clenching. “It’s just… fuck.”
Zuko purses his lips, turning around. “Just what?”
“Just… It’s not that I don’t want you here. I do, that’s the problem,” Sokka sniffs, blinking, his pretty blue eyes all watery. Zuko furrows his eyebrow—he’s the fucking issue? “It’s so hard to fucking shove everything down around you because I-I just wanna tell you what’s going on,” Sokka chokes, wiping at his eyes.
Zuko’s eyebrow raises, expression softening. He… didn’t expect that.
He blinks, moving to sit down beside Sokka on the step. Zuko glances over at him but Sokka stares at his hands, leg bouncing as he picks at a stray hangnail.
“…Why don’t you?” Zuko asks softly. He just wants to reach out, take Sokka’s hand or rub his arm or hug him, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what Sokka needs and he hates that. Is Zuko that bad of a friend? That he doesn’t know what to do when his best friend is this upset?
Sokka shakes his head. “It’s too much, I know I’m too much. No one wants to hear it, and it’s fine. I can… I can take care of myself.”
Sokka sniffs, turning his face away from Zuko and wiping at his eyes again. Zuko blinks. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to tackle everything wrong with those statements.
“Sokka… you shouldn't have to deal with anything alone. So many people care about you and just want to be let in. So many people love you,” Zuko says softly, reaching out to rub Sokka’s back. Zuko’s mom used to do that when he was upset, it would always calm him right down. Hopefully it makes Sokka feel a little better. Hopefully it says what Zuko doesn’t know how to say out loud.
Sokka presses the heels of his palms onto his eyes, shaking his head. Zuko’s heart twists.
“Yes, they do,” Zuko starts. “I’m… I’m always worried about you, because I know you shove all your feelings down. It’s not good for you, you gotta tell people what’s going on.”
Sokka’s body shakes and he inhales sharply, still covering his eyes. Zuko’s heart breaks.
“…Sokka, what’s going on?” Zuko asks softly, hand on Sokka’s back stilling.
“Everyone… everyone’s going through shit right now and they’re all coming to me, I don’t fucking know why, but it’s too much and I can’t deal with… with all of it, and I’m a fucking bad friend for it, I know I am. And I’ve been so behind on my work a-and now my Gran Gran’s in the hospital and it’s just too fucking much. I’m so tired, Zuko. I’m—” Sokka chokes on a sob, clenching his hands into fists, palms still pressed onto his eyes.
Zuko doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to say so he just pulls Sokka into a hug, and it’s awkward and weird on the stairs and with Sokka’s arms trapped between them but Zuko doesn’t care. He holds Sokka, rubbing up and down his back as Sokka buries his nose into the crook of Zuko’s neck. Sokka moves his arms out from between them and hugs Zuko back, shaking and crying and Zuko hugs him tighter—wishing he could take all the pain away. Sokka’s the last person in the world who deserves it.
Zuko’s never seen Sokka like this. He doesn’t know what to do—he’s not good with emotions in general. He rests a hand on Sokka’s upper back, rubbing his thumb against the nape of the man’s neck, and he hopes it’s enough.
Zuko’s lips are dangerously close to Sokka’s skin. Some traitorous part of him wants to lean down, just a bit, and kiss Sokka’s temple, the top of his ear, his cheeks and his freckles and his jaw.
Really not the time.
“I’m sorry, Sokka,” Zuko whispers once Sokka’s cries quiet down a bit, feeling like he should say something. “That’s really fucking hard. You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t be the one in charge of so many people’s emotions, that shouldn’t be your job.”
Sokka sniffs. “But I-I wanna help if I can.”
Zuko smiles sadly. It’s so stupidly characteristic, Sokka still thinking of other people while actively breaking down in someone’s arms.
Zuko leans his temple against Sokka’s, still rubbing at the nape of his neck. “You do help. You always make me feel so much better when I’m sad or upset, and I know you make other people so happy too. Even just your dumb jokes make me happier, no matter how I’m feeling. You’re the most compassionate person I’ve ever met, really. I… I don’t think anyone gets me like you do,” Zuko says softly. Maybe inching into I-have-a-crush-on-you territory, but he just wants to be honest. He wants Sokka to know how amazing he is.
Sokka stills and his grip on Zuko loosens until he’s moving away, looking back down at his shoes. Zuko’s heart twists. Did he say something wrong?
“…Sokka?” Zuko asks softly.
Sokka runs a hand down his face, throwing it up as his voice cracks. “God, I can’t fucking do this either!”
Zuko furrows his eyebrow, but just the tone of his voice sends something sharp to Zuko’s gut. “Do… what?”
“Us!” Sokka exclaims, finally looking up at Zuko for the first time in this whole conversation, and Zuko’s heart might as well have just fucking shattered.
Sokka’s eyes are all blue and beautiful and he looks so, so sad. He stares at Zuko before looking back down. “I can’t… fuck.”
Is Zuko really about to lose his best friend?
Sokka inhales. “Fuck it, I like you too much and I know you don’t like me back but I can’t fucking deal when you’re here being so, so nice to me and looking at me like that and I just wanna… it’s making me crazy, dude.”
Sokka looks up at Zuko again, letting out a broken laugh, and Zuko has no idea what expression he’s making—he is completely stunned.
I like you too much.
He should say something, he needs to say something.
“Sokka—”
“Don’t, Zuko,” Sokka chokes, standing up and wiping at his eyes with the palm of his hand. “I can’t fucking do it right now. I’m sorry, I-I know I just fucked everything up but—”
Zuko stands up and kisses him, because he doesn’t think there’s another way to get it through Sokka’s head.
Zuko kisses him and cradles the sides of his face, holding Sokka like he’s something precious, something perfect. Sokka’s frozen for a second, clearly surprised, until he kisses back, and Zuko smiles against his lips.
It’s fucking everything. Zuko’s wanted this for far, far too long.
Zuko pulls away, huffing a small laugh at Sokka’s very wide eyes. Zuko wipes a stray tear away from Sokka’s cheek with his thumb as Sokka’s eyes travel all over Zuko’s face.
“Why were you stressed about me?” Zuko chuckles.
“I… I didn’t think you…” Sokka starts, eyes still blown wide.
“I’ve never wanted anything more in my fucking life,” Zuko says softly, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the freckles on Sokka’s cheek.
Sokka chokes out a wet, disbelieving laugh. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah,” Zuko laughs back. “I didn’t know I was stressing you out so much, I would’ve kissed you sooner.”
Sokka leans forward, pressing their lips back together, laughing and smiling through the kiss. He snakes a hand around Zuko’s waist, tasting like tears and warmth and something akin to love.
Sokka pulls away, smiling, and Zuko couldn’t ever get sick of the sight. “Will you go out with me?”
Zuko smiles back, and he doesn’t even have to think about his answer. “Yeah.”
Sokka breaks out into a grin, choking out a still-teary laugh. “Okay. Cool.”
Zuko huffs a laugh, moving his hands down to rest on the sides of Sokka’s neck. Zuko tucks a stray piece of hair behind Sokka’s ear, cocking his head slightly. “Thank you for telling me what’s going on. And I’m really sorry about your grandma, is she okay?”
Sokka blinks. “Yeah, she just fell. It’s really not that big of a deal, but with everything else, I…” He bites his lip, looking down. “It was just a lot.”
“I get it,” Zuko takes Sokka’s hand in his and squeezes it, the man’s hand cool and callused in his own. Sokka looks down at their hands before looking back up at Zuko, biting his lip to hide a small smile. “You can always talk to me, okay? About anything. It’s never too much or annoying or anything.”
Sokka purses his lips in a grateful smile, squeezing Zuko’s hand back. “Okay. Thank you.”
Zuko nods in return. “Of course. How about we go back to the dorm and figure out how to split your work up?”
Sokka blinks, and Zuko almost thinks he’ll turn down the offer. Sokka’s not good at accepting help, they both know this. He’s learned how to be independent, how to do everything by himself, how to take it all on with a grin.
But Sokka nods with a small, gorgeous smile, leaning up to press a kiss to Zuko’s lips, and Zuko hopes that Sokka knows it’s always okay for him to lean on someone. To lean on Zuko.