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The group was huddled close around the massive, luminous block of ice, their breath pluming in the freezing air as they stared at the frozen figure glowing inside. In the back of the cavern, the steady, rhythmic clink-clink-clink of Toph juggling three jagged rocks echoed off the walls.
Without looking up from her rocks, Toph smirked, tilting her head toward the glacier. "My senses tell me this guy is pretty attractive."
"Toph!" Katara immediately hissed, shooting her a scandalized look.
Toph just shrugged, "Someone else confirm."
"This is serious!" Katara whisper-yelled, gesturing frantically at the ancient, glowing anomaly.
In the middle of the bickering, Sokka threw his hands up, his voice cracking slightly with exasperation. "What does attractive even mean—"
"Just give me a straight confirmation!" Toph cut him off, "Is he attractive or not?"
Without a single beat of hesitation, Zuko’s voice cut across the cavern, deadpan and immediate.
"He's very attractive."
Total silence slammed down.
Slowly, every single head in the huddle whipped around to stare at the Fire Lord.
Sokka, who had been leaning forward with his hands on his knees examining the ice runes, froze. His brain completely short-circuited.
Zuko was still looking at the frozen stranger. His expression was completely composed, serious, and utterly deadpan—though if you looked closely, a very faint, suspicious flush was creeping up the back of his neck, right along the high collar of his red robes.
Katara was staring, her jaw slightly slack. Aang blinked, looking back and forth between Zuko and the ice cube with wide eyes. Toph let out a sharp, delighted bark of laughter that echoed off the frozen walls.
"What? He is," Zuko said softly. "It's all in the bone structure."
Bone structure? Sokka stared at him, his jaw practically hitting the ice. They were standing in a lethal, frozen tomb looking at a prehistoric popsicle, and the Fire Lord—the stoic, brooding, emotionally constipated ruler of the Fire Nation—was out here critiquing the guy's cheekbones like a royal court portrait artist!
A hot, ridiculous spike of jealousy surged straight up into Sokka’s chest, sharp and entirely uninvited. For weeks, Sokka had been dropping subtle hints, sharing quiet moments by the campfire, and convincing himself that Zuko's lingering glances meant something. But apparently, all it took to get a five-star aesthetic review from Zuko was a guy who had been a popsicle since before their grandparents were born.
"Seriously? You look at a guy locked in ice for a hundred years and your first thought is 'hello, handsome'?"
"I didn't say hello, handsome," Zuko defended himself, though a genuine, full-blown blush was now staining his cheekbones bright crimson. He glared half-heartedly at the floor. "Toph asked a direct question. I gave an objective observation."
"An objective observation," Sokka repeated, his voice scaling into a theatrical, highly dramatic falsetto. He threw his hands up in the air, glaring at the ceiling of the ice cavern. "Right, of course. My mistake! Next time we unearth a historical disaster, I'll make sure you have your little royal ledger ready so you can rate their symmetry on a scale of one to ten."
Zuko blinked, genuinely baffled. He crossed his arms over his chest, his crimson flush deepening into something that looked dangerously close to frustration, though his amber eyes remained entirely bewildered.
"I don't have a ledger," Zuko said, his tone flat and utterly serious, completely missing the sarcasm. "And I don't see why you're getting so worked up over this. Toph asked if he was attractive. I answered. It's just a statement of fact."
"A statement of fact?" Sokka choked out, spinning back around to glare at him.
Right beside them, the rest of the group had gone deathly, pin-drop quiet. Katara was frozen mid-gesture, her mouth slightly open as her gaze darted back and forth between Zuko and her brother. Toph had stopped juggling her ice-rocks entirely, her head cocked sharply toward them, a wicked, knowing grin spreading across her face as she practically tasted the thick, suffocating tension radiating off the two men. Aang looked like he wanted to dissolve into a puddle and sink straight through the glacier ice just to escape the atmosphere.
Sokka didn't notice—or chose not to care. He crossed his arms so tightly his knuckles turned white, a hard, petty knot of annoyance tightening painfully in his chest.
Why are you defending his cheekbones like you're his personal talent agent? Sokka wanted to snap, but biting it back, he forced his jaw to unclench. He deliberately smoothed out his expression, pasting on a bright, breezy, completely unbothered smile that didn't reach his eyes at all.
"You know what? You're right. Total statement of fact," Sokka said, his voice dropping into a sickeningly sweet, casual tone that fooled absolutely no one. He clapped a heavy, cheerful hand onto Zuko's shoulder, giving it a bright, entirely fake shake.
Zuko flinched slightly at the sudden physical contact, his brows furrowing even deeper. He stared down at Sokka's hand, then back up at his overly cheerful grin, clearly trying to process the sudden gear-shift.
"Sokka, your eye is literally twitching," Zuko pointed out, completely missing the social cue, his voice laced with pure, unadulterated confusion.
"My eye is fine! I've never been more relaxed," Sokka lied smoothly, though his smile felt like dried mud cracking across his face. He dropped his hand from Zuko's shoulder and took a deliberate half-step back, chin held high. "Carry on with your art criticism, Your Royal Hotness. I'm just going to...stand right here and appreciate the fine, objective architecture of this very nice wall."
He turned sharply back toward the towering block of ice, crossing his arms again. Behind him, he could feel Zuko lingering—still entirely oblivious, still standing uncomfortably close, and leaving that sharp, irritating sting of jealousy burning hot and heavy right under Sokka's ribs.
Behind them, Toph finally broke the stifling silence, letting out a sharp, unrestrained snort of amusement.
"Well," Toph drawled, leaning back against a jagged pillar of ice with a smug grin. "That was dramatic. For a second there, I thought someone was going to draw swords."
"Nobody is drawing swords," Zuko muttered defensively, though he finally shifted his gaze away from the back of Sokka's head, looking down into the glowing depths of the ice block again. The frustration was still etched into his brows, though it was now mixed with a heavy dose of bewilderment. He didn't understand why Sokka was acting like a cornered animal over a casual comment, but the sharp edge in Sokka's voice had rattled him more than he cared to admit.
Katara cleared her throat, a very pointed, elder-sister kind of sound. She cast a sharp look at Zuko, then at her brother's rigid spine, before deciding it was best to steer the conversation firmly back to the task at hand.
"Okay, can we please focus?" Katara said, her voice cutting through the chill. She stepped closer to the ice, pressing a glowing hand against the freezing surface to inspect the trapped boy. "We have an ancient airbender frozen in a glacier. Sokka, stop staring at the wall. We need to figure out how to get him out without shattering him."
Sokka forced himself to unclench his jaw, dropping his arms from his chest and turning back around with a mask of exaggerated, overly helpful enthusiasm.
"Right! The ice boy! Breaking him out safely, totally my specialty," Sokka chirped, marching back into the huddle as if his internal organs hadn't just twisted into knots five seconds ago. He pointed a finger at the top of the glacier with an animated flourish. "Aang, you're the air master, can you, like, warm up the air around the perimeter without turning our prehistoric friend into a poached dumpling?"
Aang blinked, eagerly seizing the distraction. "Uh—yeah! Yeah, I can try air-bending some friction heat into the core."
As Aang stepped up to the ice and began spinning his staff, the cavern filled with the low hum of swirling wind and crackling energy. The rest of the group crowded in to watch, leaving Zuko and Sokka shoulder-to-shoulder in the cramped space.
The heat from Aang's technique immediately began to fog the air with rising steam, melting the surface frost into tiny, dripping rivulets. In the close quarters, Zuko shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing against Sokka's arm.
Sokka stiffened, refusing to look over, keeping his eyes locked firmly on the guy trapped beneath the ice. But he could feel the radiating warmth coming off Zuko—felt the way the Fire Lord lingered just a fraction longer than necessary, as if trying to bridge the invisible wall Sokka had just thrown up between them.
"Sokka," Zuko murmured low enough that the rushing wind of Aang's air-bending drowned it out for everyone else.
No, he told himself, swallowing hard against the hot, petty tightness in his throat. If he opened his mouth right now, his stupid, over-defensive, thoroughly exposed jealousy was going to spill right out. He’d end up saying something ridiculous, something far too revealing about his feelings towards him. Or worse—hurt him. It was safer to shut down. Safer to build the wall taller.
So, he stayed completely silent. He didn't look over. He didn't make a sarcastic remark. He just stared straight ahead, locking his jaw and offering nothing.
For a second, the only sound in the cavern was the fierce whistle of Aang’s air-bending.
Then, the subtle, radiating warmth beside him shifted. Zuko pulled back.
Sokka felt the sudden, hollow absence of him like a draft of cold air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zuko blink, a flash of genuine hurt and confusion crossing the Fire Lord's sharp features. Zuko parted his lips as if to say something else, but looking at Sokka's rigid, unyielding profile, he swallowed the words back down.
A heavy, bruised kind of quiet settled between them, far heavier than the bickering had been.
Unwilling to let Sokka's sudden frostiness linger—and entirely at a loss for how to fix it—Zuko abruptly turned his face away. He forced his amber eyes up toward the front of the block, rigidly focusing on Aang’s intense concentration and the spiderweb of cracks spreading across the ice, using the spectacle of the defrosting ancient to keep his own mind firmly occupied.
Neither of them spoke. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the freezing gloom, suddenly miles apart.
The final crack sounded like a whip-crack echoing off the vaulted ice ceiling.
A spiderweb of luminous fractures tore down the front of the block, and the thick layer of frost split clean down the middle. Before anyone could even draw a breath, the ancient airbender gasped violently, his entire body convulsing as a massive rush of air slammed back into his lungs. He sat straight up abruptly, his grey-blue arrows stark against his skin.
Panic seized him instantly.
"Get away!" he choked out, scrambling backward in a blind, frantic blur until his spine slammed hard against the back wall of the ice alcove. He swung his arms wildly, his chest heaving, his eyes darting around the cavern with wild, disoriented terror. "Who are you? Where—where is the fleet? What happened to the air temple?"
"Whoa, whoa, hey! Easy! Calm down!" Aang yelled, holding his hands up high, stepping back slowly with his palms open in a universal gesture of peace. "You're safe! You've been frozen for a few thousand years or so, but you're okay!"
"A thousand—?" The guy's voice cracked, his breathing coming in ragged, shallow gasps as he clutched his head. He looked ready to bolt, or to summon a lethal gale-force wind that would bring the entire glacier down on top of their heads.
Katara stepped up slowly, her hands raised, her voice dropping into that soothing, maternal register she always used for panicked runaways. "Hey, look at me. You're breathing. You survived. We're not going to hurt you."
Slowly, the frantic, terrified edge in the stranger's eyes began to recede, replaced by a profound, trembling exhaustion. His shoulders slumped as he rested his forearms on his knees, chest still heaving as he tried to process the impossible reality of the world around him.
The immediate threat dissolved into a tense, breathless quiet.
The Gaang let out a collective sigh of relief, lowering their guard. Sokka exhaled a long breath, finally letting his shoulders drop, while Toph leaned casually on the wall.
And then, the stranger's gaze drifted past Katara, sweeping across the small group standing in a semi-circle around him.
His azure eyes landed squarely on Zuko.
The Fire Lord was standing a few paces back, arms crossed over his chest, his expression a mixture of cautious watchfulness and residual awkwardness from his argument with Sokka.
The stranger froze.
The panicked terror vanished from his face in a single, fluid second, replaced by a sudden, intense stillness. His eyes scanned upward—lingering deliberately over Zuko’s sharp jawline, traveling up the high, structured collar of his red robes, and taking in the brooding, severe intensity of his face.
A slow, utterly unabashed look of appreciation spread across the ancient airbender's face. He blinked once, licked his dry lips, and whispered right into the dead silence of the cavern:
"...Well. At least the afterlife has good scenery."
Zuko’s eyes widened in absolute shock, his face instantly erupting into a violent, blazing crimson that rivaled his nation's flag.
Beside him, Sokka’s soul practically left his body.
For half a beat, Sokka stared at the newly defrosted airbender. Then, his head slowly turned, his eyes locking onto Zuko with an expression of pure, unadulterated betrayal.
"Are you kidding me right now?" Sokka hissed, his voice pitching upward in sheer disbelief. "It's a contagious condition! The second you thaw out, you immediately start flirting with the Fire Lord?!"
"I didn't do anything!" Zuko choked out, his voice cracking on the high note as he threw his hands up, glaring wildly between Sokka and the stranger. "Stop looking at me like that!"
Across the cavern, Toph threw her head back and let out a laugh so loud and hard it shook icicles from the ceiling.
The ancient airbender blinked hard, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples as a fresh wave of disorientation hit him. The brief flash of bravado completely evaporated, replaced by a shuddering breath and a look of profound, terrified confusion. His chest heaved as he stared down at his shaking hands, the reality of a completely foreign world crashing back down on him.
Yet, even as his gaze darted nervously around the cavern—taking in Aang’s modern glider, Katara’s Water Tribe parka, and the alien architecture of Zuko's armor—his eyes kept compulsively drifting back over to the Fire Lord.
It was a frantic, grounding fixation of a guy who had just woken up a century too late and latched onto the only thing in the room that made any logical sense to his scrambled brain. Every few seconds, he would steal a quick, wide-eyed glance at Zuko’s sharp profile, looking thoroughly bewildered by his own wandering attention.
Zuko noticed immediately.
A fresh wave of heat crawled up the Fire Lord’s neck, turning his ears bright red. He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, crossing his arms tighter over his chest and trying to look anywhere else. The unwanted attention was deeply unsettling, but beneath the awkward squirming, the sudden, undeniable rush of flattery made his posture stiffen in a very different way. He wasn't used to people looking at him like that—let alone ancient historical anomalies who had just thawed out of a glacier.
Oblivious to the intense, awkward drama unfolding behind them, Aang and Katara were entirely consumed by logistical panic.
"Okay, okay, deep breaths," Katara said, kneeling down a safe distance away and gesturing calmly. "I know this is insane. We're friends, I promise. We're just trying to help you. Can you tell us your name?"
The stranger swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he looked between Katara and Aang. "I...I'm Tagah. My unit was stationed near the western ridge when the storm hit...How long has it been?"
"A long time," Aang said softly, his shoulders slumping with a deep, empathetic ache that only the Avatar could truly understand. "It's hard to tell, probably a thousand years, based on your tattoos. The world changed while you were asleep."
Tagah let out a shaky breath, nodding numbly as he tried to process the words. But the moment the heavy silence settled back over the group, his head jerked up—and his eyes drifted straight back to Zuko.
Another quick, bewildered glance.
Across the small circle, Sokka caught it.
If looks could kill, Tagah would have been flash-frozen a second time. Sokka was standing with his arms crossed so tightly his muscles ached, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched violently in his cheek. He narrowed his eyes into dangerous, burning slits, glaring daggers at the newly thawed airbender every single time the guy’s gaze flicked toward Zuko.
"Tagah. We're going to get you out of this cold, okay? We have a camp set up not far from here." Aang says.
Tagah gave a stiff, mechanical nod, though his focus remained entirely derailed. Zuko swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. He broke his gaze away from Tagah, the lingering weight of those glances kept his skin prickling with heat. Despite his severe expression, a very distinct, helpless flush remained branded across his cheekbones.
Right next to him, the air had practically dropped below freezing.
Sokka wasn't even trying to hide his death glare anymore. He was staring at Tagah with an intensity that could have melted the surrounding glacier, his arms crossed so tightly across his chest that his knuckles looked bloodless. Every time the ancient airbender's eyes twitched toward Zuko, Sokka's nostrils flared with a sharp, indignant huff of air.
Katara glanced up, finally noticing the thick, suffocating wall of tension radiating from her brother. She pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. This rescue mission was quickly turning into a logistical and emotional disaster.
"Alright," Katara said, clapping her hands together to force a semblance of order. "Aang, help him to his feet. Let's get out of this freezing cave before everyone in here loses their minds."
Aang stepped forward carefully, offering a reassuring hand to help Tagah up. The ancient airbender took it, wobbling slightly on legs that hadn't felt gravity in a century, his boots crunching against the scattered shards of ice.
As the group began to shuffle toward the wide, shadowy exit of the cavern, the spatial dynamics shifted into a total nightmare.
Aang and Katara took the lead, supporting a still-dazed Tagah between them. Toph brought up the rear, her metal-plated boots echoing rhythmically, her smirk practically audible in the dark. That left Zuko and Sokka walking side-by-side in the middle, trapped in a bubble of suffocating silence.
Sokka marched with rigid, militaristic precision, his eyes fixed straight ahead on the tunnel wall. He refused to look at Zuko. He refused to look at Tagah. He was operating purely on a toxic cocktail of wounded pride and petty, unadulterated rage.
Zuko, meanwhile, was casting sideways, highly nervous glances at Sokka’s profile. The Fire Lord could practically feel the static electricity rolling off Sokka in waves, but he had no earthly idea how to bridge the gap without making things worse—especially since, in Zuko's mind, he hadn't actually done anything wrong.
They managed to get Tagah settled into a spare sleeping tent with a steaming cup of herbal tea and a mountain of heavy wool blankets. The poor guy was still too shell-shocked by the century-long nap to do much more than stare blankly at the tent ceiling.
With the rescue mission officially paused for the night, the exhausted Gaang scattered to their respective quarters. The thick, suffocating tension that had clung to the group all the way down the mountain finally fractured, leaving everyone eager for the quiet of sleep.
Zuko and Sokka retreated to their separate tents, but sleep was the absolute last thing waiting for either of them in the dark.
Inside his tent, Zuko sat cross-legged on his bedroll, staring intently at the flickering flame of a small, contained brazier in the corner. He threw another handful of small twigs into the fire, his brows furrowed deep in frustration.
What did I even do? he replayed the entire sequence in his head for the hundredth time.
He hadn't asked for Toph’s weird pop-quiz about the frozen guy's face. He hadn't asked the ancient airbender to stare at him like he was an oasis in the desert. He had simply answered a question honestly, and somehow, Sokka had looked at him like he’d personally betrayed the entire Water Tribe.
Zuko dragged a hand down his face with a heavy, restless sigh, staring up at the canvas roof. The awkward silence, the cold shoulder, the way Sokka's voice had tightened up—it all grated on his nerves in a way he couldn't quite name. He hadn't meant to make things weird between them. They had spent weeks building this fragile, comfortable rhythm by the campfires, and now it felt like it had shattered over a stupid comment about bone structure. He felt a dull, sinking weight in his chest, turning over restlessly as the quiet hours dragged on.
A few yards away, Sokka was having an equally miserable time.
He was lying flat on his back on his sleeping mat, glaring aggressively at the dark fabric of his tent ceiling. Every time he closed his eyes, he was haunted by the exact same mental image: Tagah sitting up in the ice, looking at Zuko like he was the best thing he'd seen in years.
And worse—Zuko standing there, all stoic and broad-shouldered, looking completely unbothered by the fact that he was accidentally running a one-man fan club for frozen time-traveler.
Sokka let out a loud, miserable groan, burying his face in his pillow and kicking his blanket off in a wave of pure, concentrated annoyance.
"Unbelievable," he muttered into the fabric, his voice muffled.
He was annoyed at Tagah for showing up out of nowhere and immediately starting a staring contest with his crush. He was annoyed at the universe for the terrible comedic timing of it all. But most of all, he was furious with himself for caring this much—for letting a stupid, offhand comment about cheekbones completely derail his brain and make him act like a petty, jealous idiot.
He rolled onto his side, punching his pillow into a harder shape, but the knot of irritation in his chest refused to untighten. The camp outside was dead silent, save for the howling arctic wind, leaving both of them wide awake in the dark, trapped in their own stubborn heads.
The wind howling across the tundra was biting enough to cut straight through heavy wool, but inside his tent, Tagah was shivering so violently that his teeth were literally chattering.
He had spent a century locked inside a sub-zero glacier; his body's internal thermostat was completely shattered. Standard heavy blankets and extra furs weren’t cutting it. The bone-deep chill had settled into his marrow, making his skin feel like ice.
Groaning softly, Tagah wrapped a blanket shawl tight around his shoulders and crept out into the freezing midnight air. The camp was a cluster of dark, silent shapes under a canopy of unfamiliar, terrifying stars. He needed heat. Real heat. And he remembered, with a dazed, survival-driven clarity, that the pretty guy in the red uniform had been wearing armor styled with high collars and gold accents—unequivocally Fire Nation design.
A firebender.
Hobbling quietly across the frost-crusted snow, Tagah navigated the camp until he spotted a tent with a faint, warm amber glow flickering through the fabric. He hesitated for a second, rubbing his freezing hands together, before knocking awkwardly on the wooden support pole.
Inside, Zuko was staring miserably into a small, contained metal brazier, still replaying the day's disaster in his head. When the knock came, he blinked, startled, and pulled the tent flap back.
Zuko froze. Tagah stood shivering on the threshold, looking pale, exhausted, and wrapped in a blanket like an oversized burrito.
"Hey," Tagah stammered, rubbing his arms, his teeth clicking together. "I know this is weird, but...you're a firebender, right? Is there any way you could, I don't know, generate a controlled flame near my sleeping mat? Because I think my blood has turned into slush and I'm pretty sure I'm going to freeze to death before I even learn what year it is."
Zuko stared at him for three full seconds, utterly flabbergasted. Then, the sheer absurdity of an ancient airbender coming to the Fire Lord for midnight warmth cracked his stoic exterior. A faint, reluctant huff of air escaped Zuko's nose.
"Right," Zuko muttered, stepping aside to hold the flap open. "Come in before you turn into an actual icicle."
Tagah stepped into the warm glow of the tent, and the temperature difference was immediate. He hovered near the center brazier, holding his trembling hands over the firewood. Zuko watched him for a second, then sat down on the opposite side, keeping a respectful distance, though he maintained a controlled, steady flame in the center to help thaw the guy out.
"Better?" Zuko asked softly.
Tagah let out a long, ragged exhale, his shoulders finally dropping an inch. "Yeah. Much. Turns out a hundred years in a block of ice does terrible things to your internal thermostat. I didn't think cold could feel quite that heavy."
"It does," Zuko murmured, a faint, dry shadow of a smile touching his own lips. He rested his forearms on his knees, staring down at the flames. "I've never been built for it. I've always preferred warm places—spent most of my life trying to escape the chill. But traveling with the Gaang, it feels like half the time we end up freezing our way through some godforsaken tundra or mountain pass."
He shook his head slightly, a small, involuntary smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as a specific memory drifted to the surface. When he was shivering beside a campfire late at night, teeth clicking together no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure, and the sudden, heavy weight of Sokka’s own thick fur jacket settling over his shoulders. Sokka would always grumble something about not wanting a frozen Fire Nation liability on his hands, pretending it was entirely a practical decision, even while tucking it securely around Zuko's neck.
Zuko's smile softened, completely lost in the recollection for a second, a quiet, fond warmth spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with firebending.
Across the brazier, Tagah caught the shift in expression. He narrowed his eyes slightly, watching the way Zuko's face lit up with a fondness that completely broke through his usual brooding exterior.
"What?" Tagah asked, a knowing, slightly amused glint in his eye. "Was that a 'glad I'm out of the cold' smile, or a 'someone special keeps me warm' smile?"
Zuko snapped back to reality, his eyes widening in alarm. The fond smile vanished, instantly replaced by a violent, frantic rush of heat that surged straight up his neck and flooded his face crimson.
"What? No—nothing! It was just a thought," Zuko stammered, frantically waving a hand as he tried to backpedal, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
Tagah raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly with a quiet chuckle. "Right. Sure. Was it the guy from earlier?"
Zuko froze. His jaw dropped a fraction. "The...the guy?"
"Yeah," Tagah said, nodding toward the tent flap with a slight grin. "The one with the hair loopies who looked like he wanted to use my spine as a spear the entire time we were walking back. Is that the one who keeps you warm?"
Zuko looked like he wanted the floor of the tent to open up and swallow him whole. He stared at Tagah, completely mortified, his hands hovering uselessly over the fire.
"Was he...was he really glaring at me that badly?" Zuko muttered, burying his face in his hands with a groan of pure embarrassment.
"Oh, absolutely," Tagah laughed softly. "I thought he was going to spontaneously combust out of sheer spite. Every time I looked over here, he looked like he was chewing on glass."
Zuko dropped his hands, letting out a long, miserable sigh as he stared down at the dirt floor. The heavy, confused frustration he had been nursing all evening came rushing back to the surface.
"I just don't get it," Zuko confessed, his voice dropping into a quiet, bewildered mumble. He picked up a small twig, absentmindedly poking at the wood. "I didn't even do anything. Toph asked a stupid question, I answered it, and suddenly he's treating me like I've committed a war crime. He's been cold, and sarcastic, and glaring at me for hours, and I...I honestly have no idea what I did wrong."
Tagah leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression turning genuinely thoughtful. "Well...what did you say right before he started glaring?"
Zuko froze, the twig snapping in half between his fingers. The memory of the ice cavern came rushing back in vivid, horrifying detail—Toph’s trap of a question, his own deadpan delivery, and the compliment he had so casually handed out to a frozen stranger while Sokka stood three feet away.
A fresh, violent wave of red rushed up Zuko's neck, scorching his ears. He violently shook his head, pulling his hands back as if the fire in front of him had suddenly bitten him.
"No. Absolutely not. It's not important," Zuko blurted out, his voice pitching up an octave in pure panic. He frantically looked down at his boots, suddenly finding the floor intensely fascinating.
Tagah’s eyebrows shot up, a spark of pure, undeniable curiosity lighting up his blue-grey eyes. "Now I have to know. If it set a guy off that badly, it had to be good. Did you insult his hair? Did you tell him water tribe food tastes like wet cardboard?"
"I didn't insult anything!" Zuko groaned, burying his face in his hands, completely mortified at the thought of repeating his bone-structure commentary out loud to an ancient airbender who had literally been the subject of it. "Drop it, Tagah. Seriously. It was just a stupid, meaningless comment. It doesn't matter."
Tagah chuckled, leaning back against the tent with an amused, knowing smirk. "Alright, keep your secrets, Fireboy. Though if you want my read on it—for what it's worth coming from a guy who's been asleep since your great-grandparents were kids—the way he was glaring at me wasn't about me at all."
Zuko dropped his hands, blinking at him through his flushed bangs. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Tagah said, offering a soft, patient smile, "people don't get that furiously, irrationally angry unless they care a whole lot about what you're paying attention to. From where I was sitting, it looked an awful lot like he thought your attention was pointed in the wrong direction."
Zuko stared at him, completely blanking. His brows furrowed in genuine, utter confusion as he tried to process the sentence.
"What direction?" Zuko asked, completely missing the mark. "He's my friend. We've spent months traveling together. I...I'd hope he likes me."
Tagah let out a short, sudden bark of laughter, throwing his head back slightly before shaking it with a fond, pitying grin. He looked at Zuko the way an older brother looks at someone who has just tried to explain that fire is cold.
"Oh, you're hopeless," Tagah murmured, shaking his head. "Look, let me put it to you this way. If someone looks out for you in the cold, and then glares daggers at anyone who gets your attention...maybe the reason he's mad isn't because you did something wrong, but because he cares a whole lot more than you realize."
Zuko blinked, his mind stalling completely.
The gears in Zuko’s head slowly ground to a halt as a terrifying, impossible connection finally flickered to life in the back of his brain. His mouth parted slightly, the blood draining straight out of his face, leaving him looking like he'd just been hit by a lightning bolt. Care? Like...more than a friend?
Seeing the sheer, catastrophic panic start to set in behind Zuko's amber eyes, Tagah wisely decided not to push it any further. He let out a soft, sympathetic sigh and stretched his arms, the last of the deep-set shivers finally fading from his frame now that the central brazier was keeping the tent properly heated.
"Well," Tagah muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked around the modest interior of the tent. "I should probably head back to my own cot before I completely wear out my welcome."
Zuko, still mentally short-circuiting over the word care, snapped back to reality. He quickly shook his head, waving a hand toward the far side of the canvas floor.
"No—wait." Zuko said, his voice dropping into a hurried, practical tone as he gestured to the bitter cold waiting beyond the tent flap. "It's freezing outside, and your body's barely thawed. You can just…stay here for the rest of the night. The brazier will keep going."
Tagah paused, looking hesitant. "Are you sure? I don't want to intrude on your quarters."
"It's fine," Zuko insisted, a faint, lingering pink dusting his cheeks as he hurriedly grabbed an extra wool blanket and tossed it across the floor toward the opposite wall. "There's plenty of room. Just...stay on that side, and I'll stay over here."
A quiet, easy understanding passed between them. Tagah offered a grateful nod, pulling the extra blanket around his shoulders and settling down against the canvas wall on his designated side of the tent. Zuko retreated back to his own bedroll on the opposite end, pulling his blankets up, though sleep was entirely out of the question now.
Lying in the dark, staring up at the shadowed ribs of the tent ceiling with the steady crackle of the fire between them, Zuko's mind raced a mile a minute, utterly paralyzed by the terrifying, life-altering possibility Tagah had just planted in his head.
—
Aang and Katara were already up, moving with practiced efficiency as they packed down equipment. Deciding it was time to check on their newest, most historically confused houseguest, Katara picked up a steaming mug of warm tea and marched over to Tagah’s designated tent, pulling the canvas flap wide open.
"Morning, Tagah! I brought you some—"
Katara stopped dead.
The sleeping mat was empty. The blankets were neatly folded, stone-cold to the touch, and there was zero sign of the ancient airbender anywhere inside.
Her heart dropped into her stomach. "Aang!" she called out, her voice pitching up with sudden, rising panic. "Aang, get over here! Now!"
Aang dropped his gear and sprinted across the camp, skidding to a halt beside her. "What? What is it? Is he hurt?"
"He's gone," Katara said, her eyes wide as she scanned the empty tent. "His bed is cold. He’s not here."
Panic instantly rippled through the camp. Toph dropped the heavy metal plate she was packing, her bare feet hitting the frozen earth as she hurried over, her expression tightening. "What do you mean he's gone? The guy has been asleep for thousands of years! He doesn't even know what a steam-carriage is, let alone how to navigate a modern blizzard. He could literally walk straight off a cliff!"
"Spread out! Check the perimeter!" Aang shouted, his panic mounting as he whipped out his glider staff, anxiety gripping his chest. "If he wanders off into the wilderness alone, he won't survive twenty minutes!"
The Gaang scrambled into immediate, chaotic action, fanning out across the snowy expanse of the camp. Sokka was already marching toward the northern ridge, his jaw clenched tight in sheer disbelief, muttering furiously under his breath.
"Unbelievable," Sokka groaned, rubbing his face with a gloved hand as he scanned the horizon. "We pull a guy out of a popsicle, give him a place to sleep, and he decides to go on a solo morning hike into a hostile century. What is wrong with people today?"
As Sokka turned back toward the center of camp to coordinate the search party with Katara, the flap of Zuko’s tent lifted.
The Fire Lord stepped out into the freezing morning air, looking thoroughly exhausted, his hair a mess from a night of absolute zero sleep. He was sleepily clutching a thick wool blanket bundled around his shoulders like an oversized cloak, shuffling toward the camp's designated latrine area with his eyes half-closed.
"Hey! Zuko!" Katara yelled, spotting him immediately. She marched right over, breathless and frantic. "Stop walking! Have you seen Tagah?"
Zuko blinked, halting mid-stride. He clutched the blanket tighter around his shoulders, looking completely bewildered by the sudden emergency swarming around him. "What?"
"He's gone!" Aang shouted, flying down on a pocket of air and landing hard in the snow beside them. "His tent is empty! He wandered off into the tundra, and he has no idea where he is!"
Zuko froze.
The sleepy, confused expression on his face instantly dissolved. A violent, catastrophic wave of heat rushed up his neck, scorching his ears bright red as last night's conversation came crashing back into his brain. The midnight knock, the freezing shivers, the makeshift sleeping arrangements on opposite sides of the room, and Tagah's parting words about Sokka.
Zuko’s eyes darted wildly. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Oh. Um. Right. About that."
Katara narrowed her eyes, instantly picking up on the sudden, guilty shift in his posture. "What do you mean, about that? Zuko, where is he?"
"He's...uh," Zuko stammered, staring fixedly at the snow by his boots, his face now rivaling the color of his royal tunic. "He's in my tent."
A dead, absolute silence fell over the camp.
Aang blinked, lowering his staff slowly. Katara’s jaw dropped. Toph raised a single, skeptical eyebrow, a wicked grin slowly spreading across her face.
Standing a few paces away, Sokka had just walked up in time to catch the tail end of the sentence. He froze dead in his tracks, his entire body going rigid.
For a second, Sokka just stared at Zuko. Then, his brain violently short-circuited as the implications violently collided with his already fragile, sleep-deprived jealousy from the day before.
"I'm sorry," Sokka said, his voice dangerously low, his eyes flashing with lethal, unadulterated disbelief. "He's where?"
Zuko’s hands flew up in a frantic, defensive panic, the wool blanket slipping dangerously close to his elbows.
"Wait! No! It is not what you think!" Zuko stammered, his face burning so hot he was practically generating steam in the freezing morning air.
"Oh, really?" Sokka snarled, taking three aggressive steps forward, his hands balling into tight fists at his sides. The sight of the Fire Lord standing outside his own tent, clutching a blanket like a morning-after cloak after secretly harboring the ancient airbender all night, was entirely too much for Sokka’s already strained nervous system. "Because from where I'm standing, it sounds like you spent the night hosting a private VIP lounge for the guy who was eye-frocking you yesterday afternoon!"
"He was freezing to death!" Zuko shouted back, his voice cracking on the high note as a brilliant red flush spread from his collar straight up to his hairline. "His internal thermostat is completely broken from a century in a glacier! I let him sleep on the other side of the tent so he wouldn't turn into an icicle!"
"Right, because firebenders are notoriously famous for needing extra roommates to stay warm," Sokka shot back, his voice dripping with venomous sarcasm as he threw his hands up in sheer exasperation. "What's next? Are you going to knit him a matching red scarf?"
"Would you two stop yelling for five seconds?" Katara pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a long, wheezing sigh that sounded entirely like a mother at her absolute wit's end. She glared between Sokka’s murderous expression and Zuko’s hyperventilating panic. "Zuko. Is Tagah actually still in your tent, safe, and alive?"
Zuko swallowed hard, clutching his blanket closer. "Yes. He's fine. He's probably still asleep."
At that exact moment, the canvas flap of Zuko’s tent rustled.
Every head snapped toward it. The flap pulled back, and Tagah poked his head out into the morning light, blinking sleepily against the glare of the snow. He was wrapped snugly in the wool blanket Zuko had tossed him, looking utterly peaceful and completely unaware that he had just triggered an international incident.
Tagah’s gaze drifted across the tense, frozen group standing outside, finally landing on Zuko—who was currently standing half-dressed in a blanket with a furious Water Tribe warrior glaring daggers at him.
Tagah raised a slow, lazy hand in a small morning wave. "Morning," he muttered, his voice raspy with sleep. "Did someone die, or are we always this loud in the morning?"
Sokka looked like he was about five seconds away from inventing water-tribe combustion bending out of pure spite.
Katara let out another heavy sigh, walking past a catatonic Sokka and marching right up to the tent. "Morning, Tagah. Glad to see you're alive. Do you mind stepping outside so the local royalty can finish explaining why he didn't tell anyone you were in his bedroom?"
Tagah blinked, glancing sideways at Zuko’s bright red face, before a slow, knowing smirk touched the corners of his mouth.
"Ah," Tagah murmured, stepping out into the cold air. "Of course."
Zuko looked like he wanted to drop through the frozen earth and emerge safely on the other side of the planet.
He shot Tagah a look that was equal parts desperate plea and absolute mortification—a silent, wide-eyed message reading please, do not say a single word about last night.
Tagah, to his credit, took mercy on him. He offered a small, reassuring nod, stepping fully out of the tent and wrapping the wool blanket tighter around his shoulders. "I'm alive, everyone," Tagah announced to the frozen, staring crowd, his voice cutting through the tense morning air. "And no one kidnapped me. I just...needed a place with a working heater."
Aang let out a long, wheezing breath of pure relief, his shoulders slumping. "Oh, thank goodness. For a second, I thought we'd lost you to a snowdrift."
Katara shot one final, intensely suspicious look between Tagah and Zuko, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Zuko's still-crimson face and the way he was clutching his own blanket like a shield.
"Right. Well," Katara cleared her throat, clapping her hands together to break the awkward spell. "Crisis averted. Tagah, let's get you some actual breakfast. Aang, help me with the rations."
Aang gladly scrambled away, eager to escape the suffocating psychic damage radiating from the center of the camp. Toph snorted loudly, turning around on her heel with a theatrical, highly amused scoff. "Remind me to invite you guys on a camping trip again. Too much drama. I love it!"
With a few muttered complaints, the rest of the search party dispersed, leaving only Zuko, Sokka, and Tagah standing in the freezing morning light.
The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush bone.
Zuko swallowed hard, his throat dry. He slowly dropped his arms, the blanket sliding down a fraction. "Sokka..." he started, his voice dropping into an awkward, defensive register.
Before Zuko could even take a breath to continue, a strong hand gripped his wrist.
Sokka didn't say a word, his jaw set in a tight, unreadable line as he physically hauled Zuko away from his tent. Zuko stumbled behind him over the uneven, frost-crusted snow, clutching his blanket tight.
"Sokka, wait—slow down," Zuko muttered, his cheeks burning as a few curious glances from passing camp members drifted their way. "Will you stop pulling me?"
Sokka didn't answer or slacken his pace until they reached his tent. He yanked Zuko inside, letting go of his wrist only to whip the heavy canvas flap shut and tie it securely, cutting off the rest of the world.
Zuko caught his breath, his back straightening defensively as he pulled his blanket closer around his shoulders. Before he could demand what on earth Sokka was doing, Sokka turned to face him, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.
The air between them was thick and charged, but the angry edge had given way to something raw and exhausted. Sokka stared at him, his dark eyes searching Zuko's face with a quiet, agonizing intensity.
"Is there something between you two?" Sokka asked, his voice dropping low, stripped of all its usual sarcasm. "Between you and Tagah?"
Zuko blinked, taken completely aback by the raw vulnerability hiding beneath the question. He let out a breathless, disbelieving huff, shaking his head immediately.
"What? No," Zuko said, his tone softening as the absolute absurdity of it hit him. "Sokka, no. We barely just met."
Sokka didn't immediately relax, but the rigid line of his shoulders dropped just a fraction. He let out a long, slow breath through his nose, staring down at the floorboards for a second as if trying to process the sheer amount of energy he had just wasted on pure, unadulterated panic.
"Right. Obviously," Sokka muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish wince. He looked up, meeting Zuko's eyes with a hesitant, self-deprecating grimace. "Sorry. I know I overreacted. I'm sorry for dragging you across the camp like a runaway ostrich-horse."
Zuko’s gaze dropped to where Sokka was still holding his hand, his heart doing a small, traitorous flutter against his ribs. The memory of Tagah’s words from the night before—maybe the reason he's mad isn't because you did something wrong, but because he cares a whole lot more than you realize—flashed through his mind.
Zuko tilted his head, studying Sokka’s guarded expression. "Sokka, seriously. Are you mad at me about something?"
Sokka flinched slightly, dropping his gaze to the floor. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, suddenly finding the texture of the tent matting fascinating. He rubbed the back of his neck, his ears turning a faint, sheepish pink.
"No. I don't know," Sokka muttered, his voice dropping into a reluctant, mumbled confession. "It was just...seeing him walk out of your tent, wrapped in your blanket, looking all calm and rested while I've spent the last twelve hours losing my mind over the way he was looking at you yesterday..."
He trailed off, letting out a self-deprecating groan and pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead. "I sound completely insane, don't I?"
Zuko stood completely still, his amber eyes widening just a fraction as the pieces finally clicked into place.
He took a small step forward, closing the distance between them.
"You were jealous," Zuko said softly, a slight, disbelieving edge of amusement in his voice.
Sokka’s hand dropped from his forehead, his dark eyes wide as they snapped back up to meet Zuko’s. He didn't look away, and he didn't try to deny it, though his blush deepened.
"Yeah," Sokka admitted, his voice quiet and entirely honest now. "Okay? Yeah, I was. Because I didn't spend the last several months listening to you complain about camp food and watching you actually smile just for some century-old ice-guy to waltz in and take up all your attention."
Zuko’s breath caught in his throat. The realization hit him with full, undeniable force, echoing Tagah’s words from the night before in stereo. Sokka wasn't mad at him for doing something wrong; he was just terrified of losing him to someone else.
A soft, genuine smile broke across Zuko's face—small and entirely unguarded, the kind of smile he usually only reserved for quiet moments by the fire when no one else was looking.
"You didn't have to be jealous," Zuko murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "He was just cold. Literally."
Sokka let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sigh, his shoulders finally dropping. A matching, hesitant smile crept onto his face as he looked at Zuko, the heavy panic draining out of the tent entirely.
"Yeah, well," Sokka muttered, his voice dropping into something quieter and more guarded as he let his hand fall away from Zuko's wrist. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly finding it hard to meet Zuko's amber gaze directly. "Logic isn't really my strong suit when I think someone's stepping into my territory."
Zuko felt a hot flush rush straight to his cheeks, his heart hammered a frantic, heavy rhythm against his ribs. But instead of rushing to fill the silence, he let the words hang in the air, letting the weight of them settle between them.
"Your territory?" Zuko echoed quietly, his voice carrying a soft, deliberate challenge. He didn't look away, his eyes tracking the way Sokka’s jaw tightened.
Sokka swallowed hard, his eyes snapping back up to meet Zuko’s. He saw something in Zuko’s expression—something unreadable, steady, and entirely open—that made his breath catch. The air in the small tent suddenly felt very thin, charged with a quiet, magnetic gravity.
Instead of answering right away, Sokka took a slow, deliberate step forward. He didn't rush. He closed half the distance between them, giving Zuko all the time in the world to pull back, to frown, to put his walls back up.
Zuko didn't move an inch. If anything, he unconsciously leaned into the space between them.
Sokka stopped just within arm's reach. He raised a hand, his fingers hesitating for a fraction of a second in the cold air before they brushed lightly against Zuko's jawline. His thumb traced the sharp line of Zuko's cheekbone, feather-light and agonizingly slow, as if testing whether this was real.
"Maybe," Sokka murmured, his voice dropping to a rough, low hum that vibrated in the small space. "Unless you want me to back off."
Zuko’s breath hitched. Every instinct he had spent a lifetime building told him to freeze, to deflect, to hide behind his royal armor. But looking up into Sokka’s dark, searching eyes, all of those defenses felt heavy and useless.
"I didn't say that," Zuko whispered, the admission slipping out before he could stop it, quiet and breathless.
Sokka’s gaze dropped to Zuko’s lips for a single, lingering heartbeat, his thumb pressing just a fraction firmer against his skin. The tension in the tent was thick enough to cut, every breath echoing in the quiet enclosure.
When Sokka finally leaned in, he did it slowly, giving Zuko every chance to meet him halfway. The space between them vanished, and when their lips finally brushed—tentative at first, a soft, questioning friction—all the unspoken weeks of stolen glances and lingering campfires finally dissolved into the heat of it.
Zuko let out a soft, shaky exhale, his fingers finally reaching up to grip the fabric of Sokka’s tunic, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, steady and burning slow.
Sokka’s hand slid from Zuko’s jaw to cup the back of his neck, his fingers tangling slightly into his dark hair, pulling him just a fraction closer as if trying to bridge every remaining inch between them.
When they finally broke apart, neither of them stepped back.
Zuko’s eyes fluttered open, his breathing slightly shallow, a brilliant, flushed red dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. But the moment the physical contact broke, a sharp draft from the tent flap cut through the space, and Zuko suddenly shivered, instinctively pulling his thin blanket tighter around his shoulders with a quiet gasp.
Sokka blinked, instantly snapping out of the daze. His eyes dropped to the way Zuko was curling into himself, trying to ward off the persistent morning chill of the tundra.
Without a word of hesitation, Sokka shrugged out of his thick, heavy Water Tribe fur-lined jacket. He stepped closer and draped it over Zuko’s shoulders, pulling it snug around his frame. The fur was still radiating the heat of Sokka’s own body, heavy and comforting.
A fresh, scorching wave of red rushed up Zuko's neck as he pulled the warm fabric closer around himself. He looked up at Sokka through his now longer messy bangs, entirely speechless, his heart hammering all over again for an entirely different reason.
Sokka offered a soft, lopsided, thoroughly affectionate smile, his hands resting gently on the shoulders of the jacket. "Keep that," Sokka murmured softly. "You're going to need it if you're going to survive the trip back."
"What about you?" Zuko asked, his voice a little raspy as he pulled the collar up. "You're going to freeze."
Sokka let out a light huff of a laugh, shaking his head. "Don't worry about me. Water Tribe constitution, remember? We're practically built for this. Besides, I don't get cold easily."
He paused, his eyes softening as he looked down at Zuko, taking in the way the oversized jacket swallowed his frame. A quiet, slightly awkward silence settled between them, the frantic energy of the kiss settling into something much more fragile and real.
Zuko dropped his gaze to the floorboards, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of the fur lining. They weren't dating. There had been months of sharp remarks, lingering glances across campfires, and unspoken tension hanging over every conversation, but this—this—was entirely uncharted territory. Just a few minutes ago, they were arguing about an ancient airbender. Now, they had crossed a line neither of them had known how to approach.
"So," Zuko started quietly, his voice hesitant as he forced himself to look back up. "What are we...what is this?"
Sokka let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair as the pale morning light filtered faintly through the canvas. "I don't know," Sokka admitted quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting Zuko's eyes again.
Thud, thud, thud.
A sharp, casual rapping against the wooden frame of the tent door cut the tension off instantly.
"Sokka?" Katara’s voice called out from just outside the canvas flap, bright and entirely oblivious. "Are you in there? Have you seen Zuko anywhere? We're packing up the sleds, and nobody can find him."
Sokka froze for a split second, casting a quick, highly amused glance at Zuko—who was currently standing so close to him, wrapped in Sokka's jacket, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
Sokka cleared his throat, keeping his voice entirely casual as he stepped closer to the entrance. "Uh, yeah, I'm here. And—yeah, I saw him."
Katara paused outside. "Where?"
"He went down toward the latrine area a few minutes ago," Sokka lied smoothly, casually leaning closer to Zuko's frozen body, "You know how it is. Probably got delayed."
Outside, there was a brief pause. Zuko held his breath, clutching the fur jacket tighter around himself, mentally praying that Katara wouldn't ask any other questions.
"Right. Okay," Katara sighed, her footsteps shifting in the snow. "Tell him to hurry up. We're moving out as soon as the sleds are ready!"
"Will do!" Sokka called back.
A few seconds later, the faint crunch of snow faded away as Katara walked off across the camp.
Inside the tent, Zuko let out a long, shaky breath of pure relief, his shoulders slumping as the tension drained out of him. He pressed a hand against his forehead, fighting off a sudden wave of mortification.
"That was entirely too close," Zuko muttered.
Sokka turned back toward Zuko, the easy, amused smile slipping just a fraction as his mind abruptly dragged up another detail from the morning.
Tagah.
The reminder that they were not only traveling with the ancient airbender, but that the guy had spent the entire night in Zuko's tent and shared a warm, casual greeting just an hour ago, hit Sokka like a sudden wave of ice water. The lingering warmth in the tent instantly turned sharp.
Without a word, Sokka stepped forward and wrapped his arms firmly around Zuko's waist, pulling him flush against his chest as if trying to physically erase the memory of anyone else ever being that close to him.
Zuko immediately stiffened in surprise, blinking down at the arms locked securely around him. He felt the sudden, distinct shift in Sokka's tension—the way his shoulders squared and his jaw tightened.
"What?" Zuko asked, completely bewildered by the abrupt change in mood, his tone entirely innocent as he looked up. "What's wrong?"
Sokka let out a low huff of sheer annoyance, burying his face briefly into the crook of Zuko's neck before looking back down at him with a dark, brooding look that was entirely out of place on his usually expressive face.
"Nothing," Sokka muttered, his arms tightening just a fraction more around Zuko's waist. "I just remembered we still have to travel with the ancient history museum."
Zuko blinked, processing the sudden shift before a bright, disbelieving laugh slipped past his lips. The sheer transparency of it was almost comical.
"Are you serious?" Zuko chuckled, shaking his head as a warm, fond amusement bloomed in his chest. "You're still thinking about Tagah?"
"He slept in your tent, Zuko," Sokka pointed out, his tone deadpan, though the tips of his ears turned a faint pink. "Forgive me if my hospitality has limits. Just...try not to stand too close to him on the trail today, okay? Or ever. Preferably ever."
Zuko rolled his eyes, though the helpless smile tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed how thoroughly charmed he actually was. He reached up, resting his hands lightly against Sokka's chest over the fabric of his tunic.
"You are ridiculous," Zuko murmured softly, his voice dropping into a teasing hum.
"Yeah, well," Sokka replied, a slow, crooked grin finally breaking back through his stubborn expression as he leaned his forehead gently against Zuko's. "Just make sure you remember who's jacket you're wearing."
Zuko let out a soft breath, the warmth of Sokka's jacket wrapping around him making it far too easy to lose track of time. But outside, the faint shouts of Aang and the distinct creak of sled runners packing down reminded them that the rest of the camp was rapidly getting ready to move.
"If we don't go out there right now," Zuko muttered, his eyes flickering down to Sokka's mouth for a brief second before forcing himself back to reality, "Katara is going to come back with a water whip and drag us both out by our ears."
Sokka groaned softly, though he didn't make any move to let go just yet. He lingered for a moment longer, his hands resting securely on Zuko's waist, before reluctantly loosening his grip. "Right. The water whip. A terrifying motivator."
Zuko slipped out from the circle of his arms, smoothing down the front of the heavy fur-lined jacket. The extra layers swallowed his frame just a little, carrying the lingering scent of woodsmoke and salt water. He turned toward the tent flap, casting one last glance back at Sokka.
"Well," Zuko said, offering a small, knowing smirk. "Try not to glare a hole through Tagah's head the second we step outside. It'll raise questions."
Sokka rolled his eyes, though a lopsided grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he grabbed his boomerang and weapons belt from the nearby crate. "No promises. But I'll do my best."
With a flick of his wrist, Sokka untied the canvas flap and pushed it open, letting the bright, freezing morning light flood into the tent. One by one, they stepped out into the snowy camp, seamlessly sliding back into their roles as part of the Gaang—though the way their shoulders brushed as they walked toward the loading sleds was a brand-new secret only the two of them shared.