Archive of Our Own

~~

The end of the war leaves so much chaos in its wake, Zuko spends most of his time feeling like he is drowning beneath it.

Peace deals, new trade agreements, new ambassadors to elect to speak, not to mention the rebuilding required in every nation. 

Zuko’s friends are just as busy, popping in when they can but mostly it is letters that pass between them all. 

And he misses them.

Desperately.

It is such a lonely thing, to suddenly be on a throne, in a nation in turmoil, and every quick visit is a balm on aching wounds. 

A year slips by in a wink, and finally, finally , there is a break. Enough reformed to stand on its own without constant attention and bracing, and the lull lets Zuko rest enough to fully feel the hollowness of isolation. 

So it is with no small amount of selfishness, that he sits in the dimly lit study one night, and quickly scrawls a note before he loses his nerve. His firehawk looks mildly annoyed when he wakes her from her doze, but dutifully offers her leg for the message as she stretches her wings.

Zuko sighs, running his fingers gently down the back of her neck. “Take this to the South. To Sokka.” She eyes him, blinking slowly as she takes in the instruction. “And take care of yourself. Don’t rush in either direction.” 

Even though he desperately wants her to. 

But she is one of the few friends he does have. 

And here , one of the only ones he feels comfortable enough to trust. 

He offers his forearm to her, and she hops on, before striding to the open window and giving her a quick launch into the sky. Zuko leans onto the railing as he watches her disappear into the night, sighing into the cool night air. 

“Please say yes. Please say yes .”

~~

Watching the arrival of a Water Tribe ship in the harbour is a slow and tortuous event, and by the time it finally docks Zuko is a basket of excitement and nerves, standing with hands clasped to try and keep himself still. 

He sees the wolftail first. Then hears his laugh, and he stops breathing for a long moment as he watches Sokka swing a satchel onto himself before trotting down the planks and onto the docks. 

Sokka spots him instantly, grinning wide and heading straight for him, and fucking shit, Zuko should have thought this through a little better because he is stunning .

Time has grown him taller, broader across and hair getting length enough to swing as he walks. And he no longer has the ever present look of someone just barely scraping by with enough food. Peace has done much for him, able to stop, to relax , to have actual meals that aren’t scavenged at a camp for weeks on end. Teenage gawkiness and gauntness having given way to a young adult so perfect Zuko wants to lay down and die .

He’s still strong. It’s easy enough to see in the cut of his shoulders and the flex of his arms, but there is a softness over the strength that grinds any decent thought in Zuko’s head to a neat halt. 

Zuko barely registers when Sokka closes the distance, trying and failing to keep his face from heating but then giving up entirely when he is crushed into a hug so tight it’s like Sokka’s trying to shatter his ribs. 

He gives as good as he gets though, and above everything else he missed this, missed him . So it is an automatic thing to bury his face with the fur of Sokka’s collar and just breathe him in for a moment, sense memory at the scent screaming in relief. 

It is such a comfort. It is such a balm against his aching bones to have the plushness of Sokka against him, and he knows the seconds have already ticked past what would be normal, but neither of them make any move to let go. 

Sokka does lift his head slightly, and the warm press of his cheek against Zuko’s has his hands gripping tighter into the cloth at his back. “Missed you too.” 

Zuko doesn’t chance an answer, but a shuddering breath finally loosens from him and he nods, leaning into Sokka to let their temples rest braced to one another. 

It is the most home he’s felt in years. 

~~

It is a horrible realization to have, that perhaps Zuko hadn’t thought this entirely through. 

Because Sokka is everywhere . 

He is in council, he is in the palace, in the barracks, the merchant yards, the gardens . He is bouldering his way into Zuko’s rooms without a second glance at the guards and dragging him out to go sightseeing, to go to the markets, to lay in the sand and watch the stars. 

He is everywhere, and he is beautiful . 

Always had been, and Zuko had appreciated it before, but only in a distant way. The hope of any survival amidst their war torn nations had overshadowed any what-ifs. 

But the war is long since over, and they are both very much alive, and Zuko can do very little to fight the lingering want that has rekindled to a blaze the moment Sokka set foot back here. 

It is the bright smile that greets him in the mornings, cheeks dimpling around the sharp white.

It is the weight of an arm that drops heavy around his shoulders when they finish with council for the day, Sokka chattering away idly as if he doesn’t set every one of Zuko’s synapses firing instantly .

It is Zuko, more often than not, escaping to his rooms at odd points to lay face down in his bed and scream into a pillow.

~~

It really starts getting out of hand after the first week. 

Because things have settled, and Sokka has easily found his place amongst his peers, has already made fast friends with many. 

Has already garnered enough… appreciative looks, and it sets Zuko’s teeth grinding daily .

Because of course others would notice. 

It is impossible not to, with miles of warm brown skin, and bright eyes, and an easy grin, and a laugh so addictive Zuko wants to grab his face and kiss it right out of him. He wants to hear it wrapped around him in bed, the press of giddiness against his cheek with nothing but skin on skin and hips on hips. 

Sokka, for all that he has an exponentially growing fanclub, seems either unbothered or entirely oblivious to the outright staring that happens the vast majority of the time.

Men and women and everyone in between seem to fall over themselves constantly around him, and while the council is generally at least quietly respectful about it, the various merchants are not .

It is glaringly obvious during a meeting the following week, one that Sokka is absent for the first part of. 

It is ten minutes in, and Zuko is starting to grow concerned enough to send a guard up to check on him while he continues a rather irritating conversation with the spokesman for the eastern harbour, when the door swings open with a whine and Sokka finally appears.

And does he ever.

Clothes loose and hanging on for dear life, long wolftail barely contained in a quick braid, and a sheepish grin apparent immediately as all eyes turn his way. “Apologies everyone, I’m afraid I haven’t adjusted to sleeping in the Fire Nation heat yet.” He makes for his seat quickly, but takes a luxurious stretch before he sits, arms overhead showing off the black banded tattoos around the thickness of his bicep, and his shirt rides up with the movement, revealing the cut of muscle over his hip and a tantalizing strip of soft belly before it disappears as he settles. 

Sokka glances around, apparently not noticing the pin-drop silence that followed his entry, as apparently every available brain went fully out the window the moment he arrived. “Where are we?” 

The merchant coughs, turning to face Sokka directly with a look bordering on ravenous . “Ah, Councilman Sokka, I do not believe we have met, I am Josao, the Harbourmaster of the Eastern Shoreline. We are discussing some expansion possibilities into some uninhabited areas north of my territory.”

Zuko’s jaw clenches, wanting but unable to stand up and kick him in the kneecaps for both his smarmy grin, and the fact that it had not been a discussion at all . 

He is unbearably grateful when Sokka shoots him a lightning quick look, eyebrow raised slightly in question. Zuko’s lip quirks, and he gives the smallest shake of his head to relay his own frustration at what had already been a trying conversation. 

Sokka turns his attention properly to Josao with a smile, standing once more to circle his desk and approach him. “Well then, let's have a look, shall we?”

It should be impossible.

The ease of which Sokka can spin these types of situations.

And it is barely five minutes before he has that man so wrapped around and backwards Josao has actually agreed to assist in what he had been so inherently against to begin with. 

Because Sokka is charming, but with a wit so sharp it might as well be a honed edge for how dangerous it really is. 

Zuko thinks the Harbourmaster is a second away from combusting when Sokka puts a hand on his shoulder and unrolls a scroll with the snap of his other wrist. “Of course you understand that that kind of expansion would put the nature reserves at just too high of a risk, but I do think this is a much better option. Tithing a portion of your money back into it for preservation and fishing lotteries for the men already under your employ is a great idea. The morale boost alone will be more than worth it, let alone the boon for the winners. And still an extension of your territory in spirit.” 

Sokka catches Zuko’s eye once more, shooting him a wink unseen before pulling a brush from his pocket. “I’m so pleased to see it protected, and in your capable hands no less!”

Zuko can practically feel the flush radiating off Josao as he blusters and clears his throat before taking the offered brush and dipping it. “Of course, I am happy to assist, as always. I’m glad we came to this agreement.” 

Sokka nods, and claps him one more time on the shoulder before releasing him. “Excellent, now unfortunately we have others to see today, but I am very interested to hear about your progress at a later time.”

Zuko knows he is wide-eyed, but he can’t stop staring at the bewildering interaction, half horrified and half unbelievably turned on. 

Josao nods and retrieves his new documents, eyeing them as if he also does not fully comprehend what just happened. “You are welcome to see it yourself, councilman. I am happy to provide accommodation for you to visit, if the mood strikes.” He cocks his head as he considers, turning that serpent smile back towards Sokka. 

Zuko doesn’t think he has ever wanted to punch someone so badly in his life .

Sokka, to his credit, takes it with grace and just returns an amiable look. “Perhaps I will, when I am less busy. I appreciate the offer.”

It is the most politician bullshit answer Zuko has ever heard, but Sokka is so stupidly good at this that it still works, and they all watch as Josao just nods with a polite bow, before leaving the chambers to allow for the next speaker.

Kalina, a newer Ambassador from the Earth Kingdom, leans towards Zuko as they watch Sokka retake his seat. “What, the fuck.” 

Zuko doesn’t answer, but shares the sentiment as he watches Sokka wander to the small side table for tea and a snack before returning to his seat. 

And if he has to sink his teeth into his own lip when he sees Sokka suck some icing from his fingertips?

No one has to know.

~~

It is the start of the spill, that leads to the cascade.

Sokka prefers to share meals. 

And while Zuko had gotten used to simply grabbing something from the kitchens to take to his chambers, he is apparently ‘no longer allowed to do that brooding bullshit.’ Which means that he must meet Sokka to eat together, or inevitably be hunted down by a frustrated (and hungry) watertribesman.

The food alone is one thing. Sokka has taken to dropping little asks to the kitchen staff, and in a surprise to no one, often gets exactly what he requests the following day. Meals with decadence and fine meats, and fresh baking, and Zuko has not ever eaten this indulgently in his life . 

But he does like it, sitting close in the comfort of each other, in the gardens, or the dining hall, chatting idly while they indulge. And it is good for him, the quiet moments. A quick snack turning into an hour long meal, the pair of them slowly demolishing a platter of cheeses and bread, and a pot of tea between them. 

Though he refuses to allow Sokka the victory of knowing how much more energized he has been feeling since they started. 

Though Sokka’s little smirk seems more pointed recently. 

And Sokka loves to indulge. 

Zuko remembers that about him, even when they were younger, how much he loved food. And how often they had to go hungry. 

So it is incredibly satisfying to see how time has changed him. How peace has filled him out properly, beautifully , enough to set Zuko almost drooling everytime he gets a glimpse of the softer parts of him. 

Or lets his eyes stay on Sokka’s ass for a split second too long. 

Though it is difficult not to stare, currently. 

It is honestly difficult not to simply set himself on fire to escape this particular torture. 

Because the kitchens had been abuzz that morning, with the arrivals of some new shipments, some of which included the first ripe seasonal fruits of the summer. 

So Zuko has spent the last hour enduring a certain type of suffering, curated specifically for him, in the form of watching Sokka devour a truly impressive amount of sweet juicy goodness. And he has not been shy about showing his appreciation either, and the happy little sighs and quiet moans every time he tries a new variety have had Zuko testing the strength of his pant laces since the moment they sat in the gardens. 

Thank Agni he wears robes over top. 

Zuko barely tastes a thing he puts in his own mouth, too entranced by the visage of Sokka splitting a papaya-melon in half, forearms flexed tantalizingly for a brief moment before the rind gives between his palms. The rush of juice down his fingers puts Sokka in a brief panic, and he quickly places the two halves down onto the platter before reaching for the tie of his shirt and pulling it free.

Zuko flatlines. “Uh?” 

Sokka shrugs out of the sleeves, letting the garment pool at his hips in the grass before meeting Zuko’s look with a snort. “I just got that laundered! I don’t want to get it sticky.” He reaches back for one of the halves, bringing it to his face and eating it directly from the source, making a happy noise as he sucks the juice from the rim. “Fuck that’s good .” 

Thankfully Sokka is distracted by delicious fruit, and not noticing the crisis happening a couple feet away, as Zuko is treated to a proper up close look at Sokka’s body for the first time in years. 

He’s going to come in his pants. He’s going to come in his pants , and then he is simply going to drop dead . 

Sokka is all warm brown skin, belly soft and folded on itself from his sitting position, looking entirely too grabbable. 

Enough that Zuko’s hands clench into his own pant legs just to give them something to do, but his gaze continues to wander up the smooth expanse of abdomen when it catches something shift and sparkle in the dappled sunlight above them.

Piercings. 

Two of them, studded through Sokka’s nipples, on a chest that has filled out in breadth and softness. Both strong and pillowed, and Zuko is about to rip the fabric still in his grip, mouth filling with saliva as his tongue presses hard against his own teeth, imagining what it would feel like to get one of the little silvered studs between his lips. 

His own cock gives a warning pulse in the confines of his pant laces, and Zuko can feel the steady drip of precum down the inside of his thigh and oh fucking Agni -

He stands abruptly, clearing his throat as he immediately retreats, cowardice biting at his heels. “Sorry, I have some things I need to grab from my study before council today, I meant to grab them earlier.” 

It is such a bold-faced lie, Zuko quietly begs for lightning to simply strike him where he stands, but Sokka just pauses, fruit still lifted to his chin. “Okay? I can pack this back to the kitchens for later, no problem.” 

A little bead of juice drips down his chin, shiny in the daylight before it falls down to his chest, and Zuko follows the movement and tries desperately to sound like he isn’t choking. “Thanks, I… I’ll see you t-there.” 

His face is burning as he turns to flee, footfalls faster than he means, but his cock is almost painful, almost bruising , from how badly it is being constricted. 

He doesn’t bother trying to get all the way to his wing, instead taking a quick dart into his small study, latching the door immediately behind him before collapsing to his knees. 

Zuko’s hands are shaking, desperate and clumsy as they pull apart his robes to get at his pants, finally, finally , freeing his cock to the open air. It is bright red and blood-flushed, weeping in sticky pulses down the shaft as it stands straight up and smacks into his own belly. 

Getting a hand around himself is almost too much, too sensitive, and Zuko whines as he hunches forward, using the pooling precum to slick himself and fuck into his own hand. His jaw clenches, unable to hold back the hoarse moan as his thighs work. 

It is impossible not to imagine. 

The piercings, the fruit, the soft pillow of Sokka’s belly under his thighs, Sokka’s face looking up at him, sticky and shining, and smirking . That little knowing look of victory as he watches Zuko fall apart. 

Zuko whimpers as he tightens his grip, cockhead popping through his fist as he pants, picturing his cum shooting across Sokka’s chest, over his piercings, painting the shiny metal in streaks of white.

It’s all it takes.

His abdomen contracts, almost painful as his thighs shake, cock jetting pulse after pulse onto the floor. Zuko doesn’t stop, stroking harder as pleasure turns into too much, too much , but the little bite of pain feels so good he keens . It is under a minute before he adds to the mess, a couple more weaker lines appearing, and Zuko isn’t sure if it had all been just one long orgasm, or two on the heels of one another. 

Zuko’s breaths heave, struggling to get enough air in the wake of it as he collapses back against the door. He spends a long moment staring between his hand, and the filth on the floor, and his traitorous cock, now finally softening against his leg.

“Shit.”

~~

Zuko does not expect to be psychically damaged by an item of clothing, but he is quickly learning that when it comes to Sokka, all bets are off.

He has never been more grateful for his new… preventative routine, of making time to jerk off in the mornings to at least have some sort of buffer for the day. 

Though it is doing very little, currently, and he is certain the sentiment is being felt by every member of the council judging by the complete silence that happens in the wake of Sokka’s entry. 

Because Sokka has apparently gone shopping. 

And Zuko vaguely remembers a conversation a few days ago wherein he remarked about trying to find some cooler clothing for the Fire Nation summer. 

It… would seem he was successful. 

Zuko hadn’t been aware that such clothing exists, but watching Sokka stride in with his usual breeziness, in a white sheer shirt has his quill creaking warningly in his clenched fist.

It is loose, and flowing, with vee striking so deep from the neck it almost touches his navel. Not that that matters, since the fabric is so translucent there is no part of Sokka that is actually hidden, just mildly shaded. It dulls the shine of the metal of his piercings, but it does not conceal them whatsoever, and the little peaked buds sit prominent against the light fabric, likely both from the coolness and the drag of it against them. 

Zuko suddenly realizes he hasn’t taken a breath, and tries to grab one without gasping for it as his eyes dart about the room while Sokka takes his seat with a sigh. The vast majority of the council is frozen to the spot, conversations halted briefly before a quiet murmur once again takes hold, this time at the new look, no doubt. 

Kalina once again leans slightly towards his side. “My wife is going to crow like a lion-vulture when I tell her I have found a man attractive for the first time in my life.” But the whisper is said more in awe than in humour.

Zuko can’t help but wholeheartedly agree with the sentiment.

And council goes by like a fever dream. Merchants and politicians, and councilman alike, all going through the motions like they’re in a fugue state, darting glances at Sokka as if trying to ascertain if he’s real . 

Zuko even gets to watch a pair of rough naval soldiers stare wide-eyed as Sokka stands to cross to them with the intention of signing off on the repealing of some old fishing embargos, both of them stumbling over their words and their feet at the sight of him. 

The day wraps up quickly, with little argument on account of the fear of having to tangle words with the watertribesman, and Zuko is quick to disappear the moment they are done. 

He ignores the bite of bitter jealousy on his way out, after catching a glimpse at a few approaching his friend, likely to try their luck.

He quietly heads towards his own wing, and wishes debilitating food poisoning on each and every one of them. 

~~

Of all the assassination attempts, and Ozai faithful, and descent amongst the ranks that Zuko has dealt with over the years, his most recent betrayal has shocked him the worst. 

Dragons are… particular.

And Druk is no different.

He had only hatched a few months ago, and had made it very clear that Zuko was the only one worthy of his obedience. 

The wild little dragonet had spent much of his time snarling and snapping at anyone that got too close, spines raised sharp in warning, and it was fairly effective even for something only slightly larger than a big housecat. 

Zuko had kept him away from Sokka on purpose, at the start, wanting to avoid an accident by keeping him in his nesting room for the first few weeks. 

But Druk is a clever little sneak, and even though Zuko makes sure to take him out for excursions in the early morning, he must know something is up.

So it is with absolute panic, that Zuko opens the doors to Druk’s room one morning and finds it empty . And not as if he is simply hiding in his favourite pile of Zuko’s old robes, because he can see the melted metal from the bars of the window, pooled against the stone and long since grown cold. 

Zuko flies out of his wing, clothing barely on and bends a small flame into his palm to see as he pokes his head into each passing room and calls for him. There is no response to be had, and he can’t hear rustling either, even in the stillness and dark at the asscrack of dawn. 

He can feel his own anxiety climbing as he heads to the main hall, calling a bit louder and hoping the echo might reach him, but when he pauses to listen this time, he does hear something.

Zuko walks briskly in the direction of the kitchens at the noise, already planning an apology to the cooks for whatever disaster awaits inside, but his mind screeches to a neat halt as he pokes his head in and gets a look. 

Druk is easy to find , at least. 

The small red dragonet is draped over Sokka’s bare shoulders, trilling happily as he enjoys a gentle scratch while watching whatever Sokka is doing at the counter. 

Sokka , who is shirtless and in nothing but a pair of shorter sleep pants, murmurs to Druk in a quiet voice as he reaches up to offer him a bite of something, which the dragon easily accepts before flicking his tail lazily against Sokka’s bicep. 

“Uh-” Zuko stops short, staring openly at the pair as they both turn their heads at the noise, Sokka in mild surprise, and Druk in overwhelming smugness . 

“Oh hey!” Sokka smiles, gesturing to his new scarf with a laugh. “I thought you said he wasn't friendly?”

Zuko is still staring, and it is worse by the moment as he watches Druk lift his head to rub his cheek along Sokka’s jaw with a pleased noise. “He… isn’t.” And now he is having problems of a different variety, with the soft early morning light starting to hit Sokka through the kitchen windows, bathing him in a glow and making him look like he belongs in a painting . “Where did you find him?”

“Uhh, he found me?” Sokka scratches the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish. “I was coming down here for a snack, and got intercepted by a flying red noodle on my way. Isn’t that right?” He turns his head to look at Druk, tipping two fingers under his chin to scratch. “He’s pretty cool! Doesn’t mind my cooking, either.” 

Something warm and fuzzy settles in Zuko at that, and he steps forward into Sokka’s space despite himself, and offers his arm up to his dragon. “Come here.” Druk’s eyes narrow, and he grumbles something petulant as he stands and neatly steps down Sokka’s shoulder and onto Zuko’s arm. “Don’t grump at me, you little jailbreaker!” 

Sokka’s laugh breaks in before Druk can finish puffing himself up in retaliation, and they both turn to look back at him. “You two have impressively similar glares. Like father, like son.” He laughs harder as they both glare at him instead.

And then Zuko’s heart stops dead in his chest as Sokka leans forward to sneak a couple fingers under his chin and stroke smooth along his jaw, so close he could almost - it would take nothing to-

“Works on you too, huh?” Sokka shoots him a wink, and Zuko’s mouth drops open as he sputters. 

Zuko swats at Sokka, who snags his food off the counter before beating a hasty retreat out of the kitchen, snickering as he jogs off. 

He knows his face is beet red just from the heat he can feel radiating off of it, and he swallows thickly as he turns his attention on his criminal pet. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

Druk shoots him a haughty look, nose up as he sits perched on Zuko’s shoulder, claws digging in a bit harder than necessary. 

And, well. 

It’s not as if Zuko can critique his choice in men.

~~

It is a thing, after that. 

Druk apparently decides that Sokka is the only thing that matters in the whole world, and no amount of palace walls can keep him from what he wants.

His nest room is already a lost cause, after the first repair job was instantly dismantled. But Zuko attempts for a few nights to keep him in the bedroom with himself, only to be faced with the irritated dragon scratching at his door all night .

And when that fails, scratching at Zuko. 

And when that fails, wailing like a child in a pathetic puddle at the door, nose pressed to the crack at the bottom as he screams. 

Zuko is exhausted, and grumpy, and finally simply gives up and opens the door, watching in defeat as Druk skitters out into the dark hallway with visible glee before disappearing from sight. “Make good choices!” He calls after him, fully expecting for Druk to do the opposite. 

He sends a mental apology to Sokka in advance.

Except morning comes, and brings nothing but more bewilderment his way, when Sokka joins him for breakfast in a loose robe, with an obvious lump across one side of his ribs and chest. 

Zuko raises a brow and points at it, knowing already but wanting the confirmation. 

Sokka just shakes his head with a smile, touching a finger to his lips to mime quiet before he turns and opens the chest of his robe just wide enough for Zuko to see. Druk is curled up comfortably, braced along the seam of clothing and pressed tight to Sokka’s bare torso, head resting on his chest and trilling quietly in his sleep. 

Zuko sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying desperately not to be jealous of his dragon .

Not helped as Sokka reties his robes a bit, scooching Druk a little higher and stroking him soothingly through the cloth when he makes a questioning noise at being jostled. “I take it the criminal went jailbreaking again?” 

Zuko smiles in spite of himself, fondness at both of them making it hard to stay annoyed. “I gave up. I was too tired to listen to him scream any longer.” He shrugs, stifling a yawn against his hand. “I hope he didn’t keep you up?” He is unbearably grateful that they are free from work today, in light of his exhaustion.

Sokka shakes his head, walking to the counter to pour some cups of tea. “He just did this after I let him in. Crawled into bed with me and passed out.” He goes to step past again, leaning in to pass a cup into Zuko’s hand as he does before settling beside him. 

Breakfast passes as it normally does, with Sokka plying Zuko with bites of this and that until he is satisfied enough to count it as a meal. But Zuko yawns again as they get up to leave, and that pinches Sokka’s brow almost instantly in concern. 

Sokka gets an arm on his bicep as he goes to step past, and tugs Zuko close enough to plant a quick kiss in his hair. “Go back to bed. I’ve got him.” Before he throws him a salute and disappears out the door.

And really, Zuko has gotten very good at doing what Sokka demands of him. 

~~

Druk’s new alliance is the talk of the palace for the next week.

Between the staff and guards watching warily every time he flies off in search of Sokka, and the council staring in absolute amazement when he sits for the day with a dragon scarf, Zuko has fielded enough questions to last him a lifetime. 

No, he doesn’t know what is happening.

Yes, Druk is still his, and still answers to him.

No, he is not suddenly friendly, please stop trying to pet him.

The last one was easily enforced by Sokka, who caught the brazen merchant by the wrist a second before disaster. “If you value your fingertips , I wouldn’t.” 

It is not to say that Zuko has been ignored entirely. Druk doesn’t sleep with Sokka every night, and often returns to his nesting room to sleep instead. 

And if Zuko notices a few more items of clothing appear in there? Clearly Sokka isn’t bothered, so neither is he. 

And Druk looks very cute nestled into his newly thieved piles of blue.

So it isn’t a surprise, when Zuko goes out in search of them one afternoon, to find the wayward pair curled up for a nap in a hammock strung up in the gardens. 

It is such a ridiculously serene image, Zuko barely resists audibly cooing at the sight. 

Sokka flat on his back, stretched out comfortably with an arm above his head, dozing lightly with Druk coiled up in a neat heap of red scales on Sokka’s belly, both dappled with the afternoon sun streaming through the trees above. 

Zuko’s chest gives a traitorous kick as he quietly steps closer, getting his hip against the hammock to give Sokka a gentle nudge. “ Hey .”

One blue eye cracks open to look at him, and Sokka stretches with a groan. “Hm?” The movement loosens his already dangerously open robes, and they slip wider around him as they ride up. 

Zuko clears the sudden tightness in his throat. “You wanted to go to the markets today.” 

Sokka yawns, waving a hand in his direction. “Raincheck. I’m too comfy. Actually…” He sits up abruptly, eyebrow raised in consideration before he snakes a hand around Zuko’s hips with impressive speed and yanks him down onto the hammock as well. 

Zuko and Druk both squawk as they are jostled, and Zuko’s brain shuts right off the moment it connects to the feeling of warmth, and skin, and soft , pressed all along him. “What?”

Sokka just sighs, tightening his hold around him as he settles. “Family naptime. No arguments.” He yawns and adjusts a bit, turning more on his side and getting his head rested on top of Zuko’s.

Zuko couldn’t fight it if he wanted, anxiety washing away like a tide as his exhaustion creeps up on him. It is less about bravery and more about the aching hollowness of want, that gives him the strength to throw his own arm over Sokka’s belly in turn and settle against him properly.

“Fine.”

He can feel Sokka’s huff of laughter at his petulant tone, but he also feels Druk stepping neatly along him before heading down to nestle directly between their bodies. Zuko snorts, shooting a look down at his dragon’s smug little face where it pokes up near his sternum. 

If Zuko didn’t know better, he would’ve guessed that this had been his plan all along.

~~

That becomes a thing so fast it puts Zuko in a tailspin. 

Creature comforts being something he has been without for so long, that the sudden availability of it is like a drug. 

It doesn’t help that Sokka seems to have a sixth sense for if Zuko is yawning or staring blearily at paperwork anywhere within a mile radius of himself, and appears at a seconds notice. It has become such a regular thing that Sokka doesn’t even have to say anything anymore, just the crossed arms and disappointed raise of an eyebrow is enough to have Zuko sighing in defeat and pushing out of his chair. 

Sometimes Druk appears with Sokka, perched on his shoulder and mimicking his glare, and Zuko is fairly certain they are in cahoots, for how often it has started to happen. And it inevitably leads to a couch, or a cool patch of grass, or back to that cursed (beloved) hammock, to get yanked down into arms that leave no room for debate. 

It feels decadent in every possible way, pressed loose and warm together, limbs tangled and lax, and often the feeling of Sokka’s fingers stroking along his spine has Zuko desperately trying not to melt into goo at the touch. 

And he knows what Sokka’s doing, is well aware of his agenda to keep Zuko a functioning human, but Zuko couldn’t argue against it if he tried. 

Doesn’t stop him from being a little shit about it, though. And he broaches the subject on a monsoon of a rainy day the following week, going for accusatory and falling wildly short. 

“I know your ploy, about this.” Zuko gestures to himself, narrowing his eyes up at Sokka from where he is sprawled across his lap. 

Sokka quirks a brow, lifting his book out of the way to look down at Zuko with amusement. “Oh?” His smug look would normally be enough to set Zuko on a tirade, but currently there is a hand resting in his hair, and a thumb rubbing gentle circles into his sore temple, and really there is no defense to be had against that. 

“You are taking care of me more than you should.” Zuko can’t stop himself from grumbling, but he does shut his eyes as Sokka hits a particularly sore spot, and his breath rushes out as the tension instantly gives. “With the meals. And the sleeping.”

Sokka huffs a laugh, curling in on him a little tighter and it tucks Zuko into the softer part of his belly a bit more and if lightning were to strike him right fucking now , that would be preferrable to having to clench his jaw to stifle the urge to bite into the tummy fold an inch away from his mouth. 

“Guilty as charged.” Sokka pauses, considering. “Do you want me to stop?” He takes the opportunity to let his fingers comb through Zuko’s hair and down the back of his neck, and Zuko can’t stop the shiver that follows in the wake of it.

“ No -” The word escapes so quickly, Zuko barely registers it happening before it whines out of him. 

“Good. Because I had no plans to.” Sokka snorts, drawing his hand back to Zuko’s cheek and tapping beneath his eye until he meets his gaze once more. “You aren’t allowed to tell me not to care about you, Zuks. And we put our bodies through enough during the war, don’t you think?” 

Zuko feels his face heat, glad that it is mostly hidden against Sokka’s body as he mumbles an incoherent reply into his skin.

Sokka grins. “What was that? I’m sure you meant to say ‘yes, Sokka, you have never been wrong in your entire life and you are clearly extra correct in this instance.’ ” 

Zuko sighs, well aware of his own defeat. “If you say so.”

“Close enough.” Sokka leans back once more and reopens his book, apparently finished with the conversation, and Zuko doesn’t stand a chance against the siren call of a midday nap, especially in light of the warm fuzzy feeling currently settling in the hollows of his ribs.

And he pretends not to hear the quiet murmur against him as he starts to drift off, too comfortable to bother surfacing back up once more as Sokka’s whisper fills the space.

“You’re allowed to be nice to yourself. And I will prove it to you, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming the whole way.”

~~

It is an easy thing to fall into.

So much so that Zuko starts to dread the night, when he has to go to bed in his own wing in the cold and silence of the vacant space. 

Which is stupid , it’s ridiculous , he has slept alone for years of his life and not had this issue. He shouldn’t be tossing and turning and waking up off and on with pillows clutched desperately in his arms as if they are seeking out comfort all on their own. 

Which only exacerbates the problem during the day, because he is tired, and there is no possible way to hide it from Sokka, who has taken to spending part of council shooting him concerned looks and casually dropping tea in front of him at odd moments.

Getting dragged off for a nap afterwards is both wonderful and awful, because he sleeps so much better, and it only puts into sharp relief how badly he misses him at night. 

But Zuko refuses to concede that final line, knowing damn well that keeping his feelings under wraps will be exponentially more difficult if he allows the slippery slope of actually sleeping in the same bed. 

Not to mention that he has taken to getting himself off in the mornings as a necessary preventative measure in the face of handling the sight of Sokka all day. 

His determination keeps him afloat for a week.

Less. 

By a day. 

Because he knew this meeting would be bad , he knew it would be terrible , but he never expected it to go as poorly as it does. 

Dealing with the old families, the old blood , the people he had known as a child and had been terrified of then , had not gotten any easier with his father overthrown. His father, who they had kept tight relationships with, and had funded anything he had asked for in exchange for his own blind eye. 

By the time they are done they have gotten nowhere at all, other than raised voices and slinging contempt, and Zuko’s head is throbbing from the stress and the ever climbing anxiety of the day. 

Dinner is quiet, and for once Sokka doesn’t pry at him to eat more, and simply sits close enough to rest their hips together in silent support. 

And it is not as if Sokka escaped unscathed either, having been one of the loudest voices raised in Zuko’s defense, and more than a few times Zuko had been certain he was about to walk across the room to punch one of them. 

Even trying to sleep afterwards is a fool's game. 

Zuko can’t close his eyes without the meeting replaying in his head, and all of his worst failings stand out in sharp relief as his inexperience and discomfort get flayed open for all to see. He gives up entirely after only a few minutes, to stand back up and pace across his floor to try and work out the onslaught of self-doubt. 

Druk chirps in concern from his spot on Zuko’s bed, and watches for a few minutes before he yawns and shakes himself out, hopping neatly down to the floor and rubbing up against his leg before heading to the door and scratching lightly.

Zuko sighs, following him over and leaning down to pet him. “Yeah, you don’t need to skip sleep on my account, go on.” He creaks the door open and lets Druk slip out, leaving it ajar in case he needs back in later. 

And then it is just him, and the quiet of his room, and the screaming of his thoughts, and suddenly he feels as if the air is stifling . 

Zuko crosses the space and throws open the doors of his balcony, striding out into the cooler night air with a sigh. The city expanse is quiet, lit with the odd street lamp and sconce, but the most light streams from the stars and tiny moon sliver above. It bathes everything in a silvery glow, and not for the first time in his life, he is taken by the beauty of his home as he leans his elbows against the railing and gazes out. 

It is more than frustrating, to try and do right by his position, to try and fix the past failings, and run into roadblocks like this. And this is not the first time, the people in question being among the most vocal in protesting his rule at the start, but no matter how many side with him and raise their voices on his behalf it remains impossible to tune out the poisonous words of the few. 

Because he can almost hear the same things in his father’s voice, echoing around in his head. 

He is snapped from his darkening spiral by a soft knock, and startles so badly he almost trips over his feet in his haste to spin around. And then his heart pounds for a different reason, throat tightening as he takes in the sight of Sokka leaning against the frame of the balcony door. 

Druk sits perched on one of his shoulders, teetering a bit with one wing flapping for balance, looking far too pleased with himself. Zuko can’t help the soft smile in response, fondness winning out over exasperation over the little pride-filled creature.  

Sokka, on the other hand, meets his gaze with open concern, face tight and worried as he steps out into the dark. He says nothing for a long moment, before he simply opens his arms. “Come here.”

Zuko feels as if there has been a tightening spring braced against his sternum, winding more and more as the day has worn on, and the moment his body connects with Sokka’s it’s as if he can suddenly breathe freely again. 

Sokka’s arms wrap firmly around his back as Zuko buries his face in his throat, pulling in the scent of him with each gasping breath as he fights against the sting in his eyes. Sokka doesn’t seem to mind, drawing him in even tighter as he softly speaks against his temple. “Today was pretty shitty, huh.” 

Zuko laughs despite himself, hoarse and strained in the quiet. “You could say that.” But even that breaks the panic from him, and the indulgence of Sokka pressed all along him is a wonderful balm against the rawness of the day. 

Druk trills quizzically at him, stepping from Sokka’s shoulder to his own and nuzzling along his jaw in an attempt to comfort. 

Sokka smiles as they pull back from each other slightly, reaching a hand up to pet along Druk’s back. “It seems I have a teammate in the ‘taking care of Zuko’ committee. He was pretty insistent that something was wrong.”

Zuko sighs, raising a brow as Druk sits back and preens at the praise. “He is a meddler .” 

But he doesn’t get a single word further before there are fingers beneath his chin, and his gaze is drawn back to the piercing blue. “But he is right . And you shouldn’t have had to deal with any of what happened today, let alone deal with the aftermath by yourself.” 

Zuko can’t help the sharp pang in his chest at that, but Sokka doesn’t give him the chance to refute it before he slips a hand into Zuko’s and tugs it. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed.” 

And he really should say no.

He really shouldn’t cross this final bridge.

But Sokka is here, and he is stubborn, and he is all Zuko wants every second of the day, and Zuko is not strong enough to resist it.

Not today. 

And it's comfortable, and lovely, and perfect , and it is just collapsing into Sokka’s body in a tangle of limbs and warmth as he arranges Zuko the way he wants. 

It is getting to sprawl across him and use his chest as a pillow, greedy for the soft plushness against his cheek as he sighs in relief. 

It is feeling the press of lips against his forehead as he starts to drift, and Druk circling on his back before settling into a heap with a pleased chirp. 

It is keeping the wherewithal to mumble, trying for humour in spite of the day. “Family nap time?”

Sokka gives a gentle laugh, hand pressed into the side of Zuko’s ribs and it feels like the only thing keeping him together at the moment.

“Family bed time.”

The quiet stretches, and Zuko is nearly out completely when he feels Sokka’s hold tighten a bit, and the low rumble of his words as they reverberate against his cheek. “Would you let me kill them?”

Zuko huffs a groan, blinking into the darkness with a yawn. “No.” But he smiles, knowing damn well if the answer had been the opposite, Sokka would not hesitate.

“Spoilsport. Can I work on ways to humiliate them?” 

Zuko’s brow arches, and he lifts his head a bit to catch a glance at Sokka, barely visible in the night. 

“I'll allow it .”

~~

They don’t sleep apart, after that. 

And Zuko gets so used to the decadence of it he doesn’t think he will survive anymore if he suddenly has to give it up. 

Not that it seems like a possibility, with how Sokka so easily slips into his routine as if he had been the missing piece all along. Bit by bit he instills himself into Zuko’s chambers, and within days there is already a space in the wardrobe, and a known favoured side of the bed.

It is bliss, to wake up in mornings with Sokka pressed up along his back, arms loose around him and breathing softly into the back of his neck. And so often in the fuzzy moments when he first wakes up, the only thing Zuko wants to do is turn to him and kiss him awake. 

But his brain always catches up before he can, reminding him that this is not a dream, and not his to have, and try as he might he can’t seem to summon the bravery to attempt it anyway. 

Because now that he has this , even if it is just as friends, even if it never goes beyond what they have currently, he can’t bear the thought of losing it to his own selfishness. 

Zuko thinks the rejection would burn him to ash from the inside out. 

So he indulges where he can, and greedily soaks up the feeling of Sokka against him every night.

…

And sometimes bolts to a bathroom first thing in the morning to take care of a different problem entirely. 

Because they don’t leave space between them when they sleep, and by morning they are usually so tight and tangled it leaves nothing to the imagination whatsoever. Which leaves Zuko as a slowly dying thing, waking up to his own cock throbbing , and the feeling of Sokka’s snug up against his ass. 

The heat and pulse of it has been permanently seared into his memory, enough that he has to purposefully shove it to the back of his mind during the day to avoid having to sprint to an unoccupied room. 

He wishes he were more brave.

That every time he wakes with legs tangled, or spooned up tight, or sprawled right on top of him, that he had the courage to wake Sokka up and say something.

And considering the chaffing his dick is going through, it is probably wishing the same thing.

~~

It is not as if Zuko has never seen Sokka naked. 

But it has been a long while since they were young, rushing through a quick bathe in a river and tossing clothes on before running headlong to the end of the world.

And even then it was so quick, just sidelong glances at lankiness and hair pulled loose from a wolftail. Ribs always showing a bit too much, and Zuko quietly seething everytime he watched Sokka dish out seconds to the younger of the group. 

He had understood it, of course. 

Sokka is a caretaker, through and through, always had been, would have always done anything to make sure other’s comfort came before his own. 

But Zuko had always wondered, taking his watch in the quiet of night, sneaking quick glances at the furrow between Sokka’s brows as he slept, at the gauntness of his cheekbones. 

Who is taking care of you?

So Zuko feels no small amount of relief, when Sokka arrives in his current state. Filled out, and indulgent, and soft in places that make him want to slam his fists into stone to stop the urge to grab them. 

Thighs and hips with a suppleness over the strength, a belly Zuko has watched Druk knead into enough times to desperately wish to be in his place, and a chest he frequently uses as a pillow (and would never use any other, if given the option).

He is perfect, and decadent, and beautiful, and sometimes Zuko daydreams about the shape of him a bit too long and ends up with a white knuckled grip on his own pant legs. 

So it was probably foolish of him to think that he had handled the worst of it, between the cuddling, and the barely-there clothing, and that one Agni-forsaken day he had stumbled across him doing slow sword forms in the garden.

(And had subsequently burned holes in his own sheets as a result, and nearly his own cock.)

But none of it had prepared him for this .

Because it had been hot today.

Even by Zuko’s standards, and the depth of a true Fire Nation heat wave had left the entire council a sweat-drenched mess by the time they had finished. 

Sokka had spent the entirety of the day wafting himself with a large ornate fan, which involved the extra torture of blowing open the vee of his robes slightly wider with ever passing minute. 

Zuko had been certain that there had not been a soul in that room not keenly aware of each new millimeter of skin exposed. 

So when they are finally finished and given permission to leave, Zuko makes a beeline for the royal baths. Both to scrub the cooling sweat from himself, and to take care of his more… urgent matter. 

And it is blissful, to slip into the water, especially in the dimming of twilight as the air finally begins to cool. Zuko sinks into the warm pool with a sigh and swims the short distance to one of the low cropped benches, relaxing back against the stone as he reaches up for his hair piece. 

He only just gets the pin removed when he freezes, hair spilling down his shoulders as he is interrupted by an all too familiar voice. 

“Ah, seems we had the same idea.” Zuko can hear the smirk around the words, and turns in part horror to see Sokka busying himself with the ties of his clothing, all of it falling away with very little effort. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Replying seems like an impossible effort. 

Breathing seems like an impossible effort. 

Zuko’s brain is nothing but skin and soft and legs and piercings and belly , and a dark little treasure trail leading to- 

He is vaguely aware that his mouth has dropped open, and that he is decidedly staring, and he manages to click his jaw shut and wave him in, ripping his gaze away to the water’s surface as he tries to get ahold of himself. 

Zuko knows… objectively , what Sokka is packing. Has felt it pressed up against him enough to have a guess, but it is another thing to see it. Dark and thick, curving slightly to the left as it sits heavy against his thigh, and Zuko can at least blame his flush on the heat of the water and not the instant arousal washing over his whole body. 

His own cock had been at halfmast all fucking day , and it is seconds before he feels it prod beneath his navel as it fills so fast it almost hurts . 

Because apparently nipples aren’t the only thing Sokka has had pierced. 

And the tiny glint of a metal stud has seared so quickly into Zuko’s mind it has instantly become all he can think about. He can practically taste it, can almost feel the stretch of his lips, of his jaw around that beautiful cock, and feel that smooth metal drag along his tongue. 

Zuko can feel the water displace as Sokka slips in with a moan, and it takes everything he has not to answer it with one of his own as his cock throbs unseen beneath the surface. It does drag his attention back to him, though, in time to see Sokka stretch languidly, arms flexed above his head as the water just barely covers below the belt with the movement.

Sokka slowly strides over to a bench just to his left and sits down with a pleased sigh, and Zuko silently begs for the sweet release of death. “Sweet spirits, I am not built for this type of weather. I thought I was going to melt into a puddle during council today.”

Zuko smiles despite himself, finally realizing his hair piece is still in his fucking hands , and busies himself in placing it on the ledge of the pool. “Don’t feel bad. Even us natives do not particularly enjoy a real summer blast. I don’t think I did all that much better than you.”

Sokka snorts, tipping his head back against the stone and Zuko watches a droplet of water trail down his throat with the motion, narrowly resisting the urge to dart in and chase it with his tongue. “I’m sure the official Firelord garb doesn’t help. Surely you are allowed to ditch it for something less layered for days like this.”

“Unfortunately not.” Zuko winces, eyeing his discarded clothes at the side that were completely soaked when he finally peeled them off his sweaty skin. “Those rules remain, and I haven’t exactly had a chance to amend them yet in official court.”

“Well that’s bullshit.” Zuko’s eyes dart to meet his gaze, and the hard look Sokka favours him almost has him shrinking back. “Wheat tariffs can wait. I will gladly let those stuffy merchants choke on their greed for a day if it means reworking some laws to get you treated as an actual human for once.” 

And Zuko’s chest tightens, warmth and pleasure settling low against his ribs as Sokka’s protective nature once again snaps to the surface. “I suppose. If you say so.” 

“I do say so. And if you recall, we agreed that I am always right.” Sokka grins, arms stretched out across the stone at his back as he shoots Zuko a haughty look.

Zuko rolls his eyes, shooting a hand forward into the pool to send a small splash his way. “I don’t remember agreeing to anything.” 

“I will ask the council tomorrow. ‘Is Sokka always correct? Should his word always be taken as fact?’ ” 

“Unfortunately for me, I’m pretty sure that would actually work.” Zuko blows a breath out, leaning back in defeat as he takes in Sokka’s soft look.

He is fairly certain Sokka could walk around the room with a contract demanding eight thousand gold pieces for himself, and every single person would sign it without a second thought. 

They would probably be too busy trying desperately not to look down his shirt.

“Well, it will have to wait until next week anyway. We have the banquet tomorrow.” Sokka shoots him a knowing look, hand playing lightly along the surface of the water. 

Zuko grimaces. “Fuck, don’t remind me.” 

There is an annual summer festival, to mark the midpoint of the season, and Zuko hates it. Every year he is trussed in traditional garb, and made to make horrifically drawn out speeches about crops and bounty and every mind-numbing topic you could bring to mind.

Sokka snorts. “Ah, c’mon, it can’t all be bad. The food should be good, at least.” 

“That is the only good part. Just wait until you have to dance .” Zuko is already dreading the endless invitations, and normally they would be focussed on trying to gain his attention, but this year he will probably have to endure watching Sokka be propositioned as well. 

“But I want to dance! I don’t know how, but the council made it sound very fun.” Sokka stands once more, bringing his arms up to mime a slow spin. 

Zuko watches in partial horror, as Sokka does a fairly terrible waltz-like move around the small pool. “Oh my… no .”

Sokka grins, stopping with his hands on his hips. “Not even close?” 

“To any dance.” 

“Well it’s not like I’ve ever learned one! We don’t have any in the Southern Water Tribe. Might be some in the North? I’m not sure.” Sokka shoots Zuko a pout, almost comically pathetic. “Can’t you teach me?” 

And Zuko can’t resist a look like that on a good day. “Tomorrow. You can dance with me there.” Partly because there is no chance he can stand up in this water quite yet, and partly because he doesn’t want anyone else swooping in and taking a pass at Sokka on the dance floor.

Sokka pumps both fists above his head in victory, and Zuko once again has to dart his eyes away as the stretch of Sokka’s hips leave the water with the movement. “Yes! At least I will have a nice teacher then.” Sokka relaxes, running his fingers through the damp ends of his hair absently as he shoots a curious look Zuko’s way. “Who taught you?” 

Zuko’s mind stumbles onto the answer and away in the same moment, as a tiny spike of old grief gives its warning. 

Cool, soft hands, and a gentle laugh, and ‘see? You’ve got it, now try again.’

The sweet humming of a tune that Zuko still only knows the melody of, having never learned the words. 

“My mother.”

It is the silence that follows in the wake of it. Not tense, just allowing the space momentarily, and Zuko holds Sokka’s gaze as a complicated look crosses his features. Blue eyes don’t relent the hold for another breath, and then Sokka smiles, small and private before he ducks his head and walks slowly back over to his discarded pile of clothes. 

Zuko has half a second to feel the crushing weight of how he must have ruined the moment, but instead of leaving, Sokka digs through his robes before coming back out with a small flask. “I think we can use the morale boost for this type of conversation, no?” 

Relief pours in a moment before bewilderment, and Zuko cocks his head and smiles as he raises a brow in Sokka’s direction. “Is that always on your person?” 

Sokka snorts, levering to sit down with a sigh and popping the small metal clasp to take a sip. “In case of emergencies.” He grins and leans in to pass it to Zuko. “Saved for a few choice politicians, now that I know what I have to endure the moment they open their mouths.”

Zuko quirks a brow, considering. “Why have I never thought of that.” The flask is cool in his palm, and he hesitates for the smallest moment before he takes a taste. 

And then abruptly sputters and coughs as the burn of it floods his throat and nostrils, stinging the whole way down. “Sweet Agni , that is foul .” He continues to wheeze, holding the flask back in Sokka’s direction as he struggles through the scorch of it. 

Sokka takes it back without protest, smiling as he takes another sip, and Zuko is instantly aggravated by how little reaction he gives in the wake of it. But then his looks softens, and he leans back into the stone, staring out into the water as the seconds tick past. “You don’t talk about your mother.” It isn’t accusatory, simply a statement of fact, and when Sokka tilts his head to meet Zuko’s gaze once more, it is the rawness of understanding that fills the space between them. “Neither do I.” 

Zuko takes a breath, holding it tight to his ribs for a moment before reaching back and snagging the flask once more. “Then it seems we have a common fault to rectify.” The alcohol burns just as much the second time, but the pain is a welcome thing, and he knows it will mask the damage this conversation will do to his voice. 

It is with a strange ease that the words flow between them. Cutting and painful, the rawness of old wounds being torn wide open, but in a space that is safe and sacred. Alcohol and stories being passed back and forth and the warmth filling Zuko as the time stretches has less to do with the bite of whiskey, and more to how deep his feelings for this man now run. 

Because there is no one he would trust with the knowledge other than him. 

And he hopes Sokka feels the same. 

He hopes when a small whisper of, “People keep telling me I look like her. But I don’t remember her face, anymore. I can never seem to bring her to life in my mind,” is shared into the darkening night, that the fingers he threads into Sokka’s are welcome. 

That later, when they’ve managed to stumble back to Zuko’s quarters, half-drunk and barely dressed, and find themselves in bed in their usual heap, that Zuko’s mumbled question is taken for what it really is. 

“Was she beautiful?”

Sokka’s breath is whiskey-laced, whispering across Zuko’s collar as he sprawls along his side. “Of course. The most beautiful woman in the world.”

Because it feels right, to have him like this. 

To hold him closer, skin on skin and hurt on hurt, and feel the slow loosening of muscle as it gives to the wake of sleep.

“Then those people are right.”

~~

Even Druk is feeling the heat the following day, sprawled out long and lazy over the top of Zuko’s mirror as he watches the insanity of Zuko putting on his ceremonial garb. 

Sokka is apparently just as entertained, relaxing into a lounge chair with a glass cup of wine as he watches in half-horror. “You’re going to die in this.” He winces as another layer gets thrown on, and Zuko busies himself in doing up the stupidly complicated buttons of the small waistcoat. “Don’t get me wrong, you look beautiful, but how are you supposed to do anything ? It’s a million degrees already and it’s only mid morning.”

Zuko groans, adjusting the next set of robes, this time a deep purple with golden embroidered flowers along the seams. “I can chuck most of it off after the opening ceremonies, and I at least have to firebend for a minute so I can throw my body heat into it too.” 

“I have a hard time believing Ozai ever did stuff like this, let alone in that .” Sokka gestures towards him with his glass, and Zuko reaches forward to steal it and take a sip before handing it back. 

“He didn’t. He was always conveniently preoccupied elsewhere.” Zuko places the last layer over, an unfortunately heavy silk number that sits firmly into his shoulders as it drapes along him. “Uncle always did it in his place.” 

Already the heat is stifling, and his arms are sore just from the effort of getting into it all. Zuko looks forlornly at his vanity, where his crown and pin sit, before back to his own reflection at the mess of his mane of hair. 

But Sokka picks up the ball before it is ever truly dropped, and stands to cross to the small table before snagging an ornate brush laid out. He hums lightly as he nudges Zuko to sit, before gently pulling the length of black hair into his hand, skimming his fingertips along Zuko’s neck as he does and leaving gooseflesh in his wake. 

It feels unbelievably nice, to have someone else do this. And social customs aside- though he is certain Sokka does not know the actual meaning behind this type of thing- it is the careful handling he is treated to that has something warm and soft settling into his belly. 

Sokka diligently works through every tangle, never once tugging against Zuko’s scalp, until the brush runs smoothly through it all. “Am I allowed to take a small liberty with this?” He sets the brush aside, fingers running lightly behind Zuko’s ear, before pulling a strand free from the rest. “A braid? Just a small one.” 

He meets Zuko’s gaze in the mirror, and Zuko blinks, wide-eyed as his brain catches up to the question. Sokka might not know about the Fire Nation ritual of brushing a lover’s hair, but braiding is a Water Tribe thing. 

But the only thing he can read of Sokka’s expression is patience and consideration, and Zuko hopes he isn’t imagining the tiny rise of pink across his cheekbones. “I… s-sure.” He clears his throat lightly against the rush of hope that tightens. “I’d love that.”

It is a simple thing, a thin neat braid that Sokka weaves quickly down the length, fingers practiced and efficient. He retrieves a tiny pinned bead from his pocket to finish it with, before letting it rest back along Zuko’s hair with a smile. “Perfect.” Then he sweeps the portion of Zuko’s hair used for the crown up, using the brush to gently tame it in the direction it has to go before drawing it into a neat bun and reaching for the crown. 

It occurs to Zuko that he must have been paying attention. 

That the couple dozen times Sokka has watched this process were taken to heart, as he perfectly recreates the Firelord hairstyle and places the pin to secure it. “Fit for the ruler?”

Zuko huffs a laugh. “I wish it wasn’t , but yes, looks great.” He lets his fingers tangle with the braid, bringing it close enough to see the tiny loop of metal. It is a simple thing, but beautiful, engraved with a few little markings Zuko does not recognize, but even the feel of them against his thumb brings a smile to his lips. “I suppose I should actually head down and get prepared, and you still need to get ready .”

It has been a recurring theme, that Sokka waits until the last possible moment to prepare for any official activity, and it is often enough to drive Zuko insane. To the point that now he is certain Sokka does it on purpose just to aggravate him, seeing as how he is currently still in a nightshirt and dressing robe. 

“Luckily for me, the process is a lot less time consuming than yours.” Sokka grins, releasing Zuko to stretch with a groan as he straightens back up. “I bought a couple of new items specifically for this, and considering this fucking heat , I’m choosing my own comfort over any notion of modesty for this.”

Zuko doesn’t know what that means and is mildly terrified to find out, but before he can inquire, Sokka steps past him to the mirror and offers his forearm to Druk. “C’mon buddy, let’s go get dressed, huh?” The dragon stretches out with a yawn, before jumping down to Sokka’s shoulder and draping himself around his collarbone. 

Sokka swoops back in on his way out, pressing a hand to Zuko’s shoulder blade and a quick kiss to his hair before giving a mock salute behind him as he saunters out. “Try not to cook alive under all that. I was promised a dance!”

And Zuko can only freeze in place and watch him leave through the mirror. 

And regret that he had agreed to that in the first place.

~~

The banquet is sweltering .

Being outside does not truly help while the sun is still somewhat up, and the air is so still, and Zuko is dying .

He had at least made a point to grab Sokka’s fan on his way out, and it truly feels like the only thing keeping him alive at the moment as he sweeps the air towards his face in half a daze. 

The grounds have filled fairly quickly, and all manner of decoration has been set over every square inch of available space. People mill about and find their seats, chattering amongst themselves as everyone begins to settle. 

Zuko takes his seat at the head of the council table, set above the rest, and instantly downs a glass of water he snags from a passing wait-staff. The rest of his colleagues slowly arrive, trickling in from the crowd to take their seats, and Zuko has a terrible moment of panic when he can’t spot Sokka anywhere-

And then an even worse moment of panic when he does arrive.

Smiling bright, brown skin near glowing in the twilight sun, but it is nothing compared to what he is wearing .

Or… not, as the case currently seems to be.

Because Sokka is wearing next to nothing. A robe that can barely claim that name, slitted all the way up his sides where it is clasped into two glittering gold clips that are the only thing keeping it up at all . The deepest, plunging vee that heads in counterpoint, baring his chest and belly, all the way past his navel to where the cut of his hips follows the treasure trail downwards before blessedly being stopped by a matching golden chain that loops as a belt.

Worst of all is an intricate choker of similar gold, that spiderwebs down his chest and around his sides, and Zuko knows , can see how it travels beneath the cloth of his robe, that it must attach to Sokka’s piercings as well.

Zuko is barely breathing when that smile turns his way as Sokka closes the distance, and is suddenly grateful for the sweltering layers he is currently buried in, as they easily hide how badly his cock jumps at the sight of him. 

And he can see the various eyes following Sokka as he moves through the throngs of people, with no small amount of obvious interest, and the urge to burn them all to ash is both instant and all consuming. 

So it is both relieving and terrible to have Sokka find his seat to Zuko’s left and lever down with a relieved sigh. “You alive in there?” Sokka shoots him a gritted smile and pulls out a fan of his own to start blowing Zuko’s way. “You look like you are about to pass out.”

Zuko feels like he is about to pass out, but that has very little to do with the heat, and everything to do with the ornate glint of metal his eyes catch beneath Sokka’s robe as he shifts forward. “I will be very glad when this is over.” 

When he can leave. And pull these clothes off. And pull Sokka away from all the hungry looks currently being shot his way. 

Zuko sighs, glaring out at a few in particular, and relishing in the satisfaction when they catch his look and make themselves scarce. But the movement pulls a bit, and he raises a hand with a grunt to rub into his sore temple. 

“Shit, is that too tight? Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Zuko startles a bit, turning to face Sokka properly and noting the concerned look with bewilderment. “No? It's… I mean it has to be like this or it won’t hold, it just pulls at the scar sometimes.” 

It is actually more comfortable currently than when Zuko does it himself, but he does not normally have the patience that Sokka afforded him today. 

Sokka, if anything, looks even more upset. “What do you mean ‘has to be like this’? It hurts all the time? Constantly ?”

Zuko isn’t sure how he somehow stepped wrong in this conversation, but it is difficult to bring any rise to his own side of the argument when faced with the distressed look Sokka favours him. “Not badly , just…” 

He doesn’t really know how to finish the thought, but his reply comes in the form of Sokka loosing a tense breath, before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “We are talking about this. Later.”

And Zuko doesn’t have the backbone to disagree with him on a good day, let alone when faced with this much skin and sparkling adornments, and Sokka’s forearms flexed across his chest, and-

Zuko snaps his gaze away, and reaches a slightly shaking hand towards a wine cup before downing a hefty portion of it. It is rich, and cloying, and he knows Sokka’s mouth would taste the same way, and sweet fucking Agni he needs to get a hold of himself.

His nervousness manages to route that particular train of thought, as the last of the attendees find their seats and expectant eyes turn his way. Zuko snaps his fan shut gently, as he stands up to address the gathering, and tries to ignore the sweat he can feel dripping down his back at the movement.

It is simple enough, a reminder of the new council, a thank you to the support of his people and the peace they’ve maintained. A quick ritual of bending some flame above them to light the torch sconces as the sun finally sets. 

It is nothing special, and yet when he commences the feast to a round of applause and finally sits back down, he is treated to a soft blue gaze, and Sokka leaning in to whisper. “Another thing I can’t imagine Ozai doing.”

Zuko raises a brow. “I think you would find he was pretty good at public speaking.”

But Sokka shakes his head, gesturing out to the masses and back. “ Caring . You’ve put in the time, and the work, and it shows. These people respect and trust you, and they do not fear you. It is the difference they desperately needed.”

Zuko ducks his head, face heating for an entirely different reason. “I am hardly a one-man show. It would’ve been impossible without every other person on the council at my back.” 

“A council that would never have been formed in the first place if not for you.” Sokka shoots him a warning brow, but relents after a moment to reach forward and tug at Zuko’s robes. “Now take some of these off before you shrivel up and die , Zuks. I want to eat, and dance, and then get the fuck out of here. Preferably all three with you still conscious.” 

Zuko laughs despite himself, and shirks out of the two outermost layers to leave them against the back of his chair. The rest is, unfortunately, belted and laced beneath a support, which would require half undressing to undo. But even that small amount helps, and he takes a breath as the heaviest weight leaves his shoulders. 

The food is delicious. All summer-ripe and freshly caught, and even if he has to endure Sokka’s soft moans at every bite, he is not much better off. Especially when dessert appears as a mango custard with sour cherry sauce, and Zuko completely forgets where he is and what he is doing as he takes a bite and makes a sound so close to a sex noise he snaps his jaw shut immediately after. 

He doesn’t dare chance a look in Sokka’s direction after that. 

But dinner finishes without fuss, and Zuko is quietly pleased to watch numerous couples head to the large space dedicated to dancing as the band strikes up. Even more pleased as the continuing darkness is finally starting to cool, and the comfort of a slight breeze picking up has Zuko blowing out his breath in relief. 

At least until he feels a tap at his shoulder, and looks up to see Sokka standing with a quiet smile, offering a hand down to him pointedly. “I believe we have an appointment.” 

For all that Sokka had joked and jabbed over it for the last couple of days, there is no amusement painting his features currently. His eyes are soft, smile small and private as he beckons Zuko with his fingertips, and Zuko has never built any defense against that kind of look. 

His fingers slip along Sokka’s palm as he allows himself to be pulled to stand, before pointedly lead out to the ongoing entertainment. The buzz of wine and a full belly have Zuko drifting into Sokka’s side with a contented noise, taking the brief bit of bravery to slip an arm around his waist. 

Sokka doesn’t protest, only chuckles low as his hand meets Zuko’s where it rests against his hip. 

And if Zuko catches a few jealous looks being thrown his way?

Fuck them .

~~

It is an astonishing thing, to find out how terrible Sokka is at dancing. 

Zuko had thought that his ‘demonstration’ in the baths had been playing it up a bit, but apparently not. 

Trying to get him into a rhythm is a lost cause entirely, but at the very least Zuko has been able to pull him through the moveset successfully a few times, albeit while laughing so hard he is almost in tears . 

Anyone else, and this would be the most aggravating thing on the planet, but Sokka is determined, and passionate, and so fucking cute it is taking every ounce of Zuko’s tedious self-control not to grab him by the jaw and kiss him right in the middle of the dance floor. 

Because he never gets frustrated, only more amused at his own failings, until every other word is a laughing curse as he tries and tries again to match Zuko’s feet with little to no success. And it is a blur of sensation, skin on skin, hands on hips and shoulders and spinning wildly out of control until they nearly crash into another couple. 

Sokka does call it then, offering profuse apologies and claiming to be too inebriated to be dancing any longer, before extending his elbow with a flourish to Zuko and walking him off the floor.

“You aren’t drunk .” Zuko snickers, trying and failing to hide his laughter in Sokka’s shoulder. “You had two cups of wine, you can’t blame whatever the fuck that was on alcohol!”

“Even a small amount can inhibit balance! You don’t know for sure that wasn’t the problem.” But Sokka is grinning, holding Zuko tight to his side as they bid a quick greeting to a few other council members, before Sokka makes a point of steering them right back out of the festival and towards the palace. 

Zuko quiets a bit as they leave the rowdiness and noise to dull behind them with the growing distance. “You are a swordsman, you should have some skill.”

Sokka rolls his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you dance with Piandao?” At Zuko’s choking noise, he continues. “Didn’t think so.”

“-just that they are similar ! Not that he- oh you fucker .” Zuko catches the smirk at the last second, and shoves a hand up to Sokka’s jaw to heave him away from himself. 

Sokka makes a mock-wounded noise as he is separated, crossing his arms with a haughty expression as they round the corner to Zuko’s wing.

Zuko doesn’t think much of it, having gotten used to this routine already, but pauses at his door handle before he swings it open, and glances back in confusion to see Sokka standing a few feet back still. 

The distance feels different, between them. Guarded in a way that Zuko instantly hates, and he turns to face him properly as worry sits like a pit in his stomach. “Sokka?”

Blue eyes meet his instantly, but Sokka is still quiet for a long moment, before he takes a breath and breaks the silence. “I missed you, you know? I wanted to visit so many times but I figured… I knew you were busy, and I didn’t want to, I don’t know, be an annoyance to you.” 

And Zuko doesn’t know what this is about, really, but that implication alone has his mouth dropping open in indignation as he starts to refute it. 

But Sokka cuts him off before he can begin with a raise of his hand. “I know. Hindsight maybe I should’ve also considered that you might want the help of someone you knew you could trust, of a friend .” His brow pinches a bit at the word, and he stops for a second, eyes darting to the side briefly. “And it’s been amazing, to be here with you, to spend time together, to get to be with someone who… who gets it.” 

Zuko offers a little smile at that, questioning softly into the space between them. “Even when I’m being a little shit?”

Sokka shakes his head with a smile of his own. “Even then. Even when I want to grab you by the shoulders and shake you until you actually start taking care of yourself.” He sighs, uncrossing his arms and taking a step closer, and Zuko’s nerves light up like flames as he sees the anxious look in his eyes. “Because I want to keep doing that, and I want to keep getting to eat with you, and spend time in the gardens, and hold you at night, and I don’t want to lose that if-” He cuts off, jaw working for a second before he sighs. “Just… I need to know, is this ever going to be a ‘yes’ ... between us?”

Zuko fully stops breathing, not comprehending at all, and then suddenly understanding so fast it makes his heart drop straight into his stomach. “You…” He stops, trying to find the words, trying to find any sense of what just happened. “You think I don’t - that I haven’t been- ” 

And that is still apparently failing, so Zuko does the next best thing, and takes one sharp stride forward to grab Sokka by his jaw and kiss him.

He is caught, instantly, arms around his hips to hold him tight as he loses himself to the feel of softness against his lips and the barely there taste of wine. Zuko lets himself back off for a second, barely an inch, as his actions catch up to him and he just stares at Sokka.

But Sokka is smiling, laughing , dipping in to kiss him again, again , to push him backwards into the door to his chambers and press him right up against it. And Zuko takes the weight of him easily, grinning into a kiss that can barely be called that with how badly they start to laugh , and the feel of Sokka’s body filling the hollows of his own feels more right than ever. 

Zuko manages to get a hand onto the door latch, and they stumble through in a mess of kisses and hands, and Sokka kicks it shut behind him as he gets his palms along Zuko’s jaw and pulls him in. The tongue slipping into his mouth tastes like wine, and sweetness, and Sokka , and Zuko groans as he tilts into him, adjusting the angle to get more . 

He doesn’t even notice the hands slipping up to his crown, until the pin is pulled free with a sharp noise, and his hair falls over his shoulders. And he can hear the thud of it hitting the rug beneath them, and wants to chastise Sokka over the carelessness, but doesn’t have the wherewithal to even think at the moment. 

Not with fingers tangling into the various ties of his clothing, pulling them loose in seconds until Sokka can shove his hands into the parted robes and slide against Zuko’s bare skin. 

Not with Sokka kissing him like he is a feast to be devoured , teeth snagging lightly against Zuko’s tongue when he finally gets his own hands to obey and greedily slips them into Sokka’s robes. 

It is such a freeing thing, to no longer have to touch carefully, to run his grip up Sokka’s sides and briefly over the golden chains before snagging high enough to the clasps of his robes and rip them straight down. Unsurprisingly, the fabric gives with little resistance, falling away to hug his hips, where the golden chain belt is struggling to remain on at all.

Sokka pulls back with an annoyed look. “I just bought that robe, it’s brand new!” But there is more amusement to his gaze than actual irritation, and he makes a point to shove Zuko back with his body as he pulls the last of the ceremonial garb free and lets it drop to pool on the floor. 

Zuko is both blessedly cool and burning from the inside out, now bared completely, and his hands scramble at Sokka’s waist to find the clasp of that cursed belt. “It’s barely a robe , fucking Agni, I have never hated an item of clothing as much as this .” He gets a small victory as he finally finds the loop, and doesn’t so much undo it as snap it in his fist, but then his hand is free to press into soft skin, into the plushness of Sokka’s abdomen where it meets the arch of his hip. 

Sokka grins, trailing his mouth down Zuko’s jaw to his throat and snagging the vulnerable spot with little nips until Zuko is whining and grabbing at him, using his grip to pull their hips flush. He can feel the smirk against his neck, and the answering groan as Sokka’s cock slides against his. “Mmm, thought you might have appreciated the view, though I was pretty sure it was only wishful thinking on my part.”

Zuko freezes, hand coming up to grip the back of Sokka’s head, tangling into his neatly braided wolftail and yanking . “Wishful thinking? Wishful thinking?! ” Sokka’s head tips back and away with the pull, looking both surprised and oddly pleased with the rougher treatment. “I have been drowning on land, for weeks . You are infuriating, and beautiful , and I have come so close to almost killing a few people that have sent me requests to court you”

Sokka smiles, hooking a hand onto Zuko’s hip and hauling him closer, tighter , until all he can feel is the press of him over every inch of his front. “I take it those requests never saw the light of day?” 

“I burned them to ash the second they appeared on my desk.” And had barely restrained himself from marching to each and every one of them and burning their homes down as well. 

“Good.” Sokka is softer, amusement morphing into a warm longing look. “Because I would have done the same.” Fingers hook beneath Zuko’s chin, pulling him upwards slightly to meet his lips once more. And this is not the frenzied rush it had been at the doorway, but something firm and inarguable, a press of lips and teeth and tongue that Zuko can feel right down to his bones . 

He can’t withstand it, the tidal wave of this man in his arms, and he barely gets his arms around Sokka’s shoulders before hands slide down the backs of his thighs and hoist him right up. Zuko gasps and squirms, cock pressed tight and leaking against Sokka’s as he is bodily carried across the room. And he can feel the hot throb of Sokka against him, and the bump of metal as it drags along his abs from that spirits-cursed piercing . 

They make it to a bed, half stumbling across the room as Zuko sinks his teeth into Sokka’s jaw, hand skimming down his front to play with the chained jewelry and get his fingers catching along a nipple. 

Sokka hisses at the feeling, and doesn’t resist the pull when Zuko tightens his legs over his hips and hauls him right down with him. The feel of it is so lovely, so crushingly perfect, Zuko almost has to fight back tears at the relief . Because even the smooth rock of their bodies together has his toes curling, back arched as his head drops back, and he shoves against him harder, asking for more, more, more .

And Sokka delivers, rocking back onto his heels as he sits up and runs a hand up Zuko’s abdomen, thrusting hard against him and leaving a slick mess of precum all over Zuko’s cock. “One second.” 

He pauses, reaching up toward the top of his choker, likely to find the clasp and take it off but Zuko is faster, snapping a hand out to bat his away. “ Leave it .”

Sokka startles, looking down at him with both brows raised, before a knowing smile spreads across his face. “Have plans?”

It is too wolven, too goading , to be anything other than an invitation, and Zuko props himself up on one elbow, and runs a hand up Sokka’s belly to the chain that dangles between his nipple piercings. And it is the simplest thing, to wind a finger lightly around it and tug, watching the tension catch as Sokka’s breath gasps out of him, hips grinding down hard . Zuko smirks. “None that I think you will object to.” He does it again, revelling in the whine he gets in response, and sitting up closer to nuzzle against Sokka’s jaw. “But I have wanted to cum on these since I watched you walk into the fucking banquet .”

Sokka bucks against him again, driving him deeper into the bedding, and Zuko moans against his throat as his cock rubs perfectly against the softness of his belly.

And he has never been known for his skills in self preservation, and the temptation is too much to stop himself from pulling once more, harder, enough to sting , before releasing the chain entirely and letting the stretch of the skin snap back to form. 

Sokka’s chest bounces a bit as he does so, Zuko can feel his own cock throb and kick where it is pressed tight between them as a warning is snarled into his pulse.

“Careful what you wish for, my Lord.”

~~

All of Zuko’s past experience with sex had been lackluster at best, and for the longest time he truly believed it was simply something that did not interest him.

And if he spent a bit too much time picturing blue eyes and dark skin just to be able to get through it at all ? 

Well, only he knew. 

So it is a different thing entirely, to get to have this.

The all consuming rush of the person he wants , has wanted all along, finally where he always should have been. Sokka fits himself to every jagged edge of him, unbothered, and Zuko can barely breathe in the wake of actually finding pleasure with a partner he loves . 

He is gasping, desperate and moaning, clutching his hands into the bedding above his head as Sokka presses in achingly slowly. The stretch of it burns, despite how long Sokka had spent stretching him, ruthlessly patient no matter how Zuko had begged, but he is still so thick . 

It is heavy , and hot , and Zuko’s hips jolt when Sokka’s piercing drags along his prostate, and whines when the movement shoves Sokka all that much deeper. 

Sokka’s eyes are blown dark, and there is a fine tremble in his entire frame when he finally seats himself flush against him. “Fuck, fuck . Look at you.” He strokes along Zuko’s flank and thigh, hoisting it a little higher over his hip before pulling back a tiny bit and testing a small thrust.

Both of them gasp at the feeling of it, Sokka dropping his head with half a snarl as Zuko arches up into him, thigh tightening to pull him in harder. His body is singing with pleasure, so much that he feels half insane with it, both from the unrelenting slide against his prostate and the delicious feeling of his cock pressed tight between their bellies. 

He is too far gone to be embarrassed for begging, and the please, please, Sokka please , falls from his lips so easily he might as well be breathing the words. 

But Sokka doesn’t deny him anyway, pressing in close to kiss him as he starts to thrust properly, and Zuko can only gasp into his mouth as his legs tighten over Sokka’s hips, arms scrambling for purchase along his back to keep him close. “ Yes , just like that, so good .”

Sokka’s chest drags along his own, metal jewelry catching on Zuko’s nipples until he squirms at the feeling, shivering and gasping as heat pools tighter and tighter in his belly. His cock might as well have its own heartbeat for how badly it's throbbing, leaking a steady stream of precum between them that only assists in the glide of their bodies against one another. 

Sokka leans back a bit, eyes soft and heated as he slows his thrusts and makes them deeper , more perfectly angled, letting his hands run up Zuko’s chest and past until he threads his fingers into Zuko’s and pins them above his head. “So gorgeous, fuck you’re amazing .”

And Zuko would love to answer, would love to have any ability left to make words but he is desperately trying to hang onto any shred of control he has remaining. It is not helped by the sight of Sokka, littered in marks in the shape of Zuko’s teeth, a result of the painstakingly slow process of getting him stretched open. Dozens of marks across the expanse of skin, red and purple, especially centered around the studs through his nipples, and Zuko can’t resist leaning up through the hold to get his mouth back on one. 

Sokka’s gasp is instant, and Zuko knows it must already be tender, but it feels too good not to slip his tongue along the piercing and tug at it, nibbling for a second before closing his lips and sucking . 

He is rewarded with a hard snap of hips, and Sokka whining into the open air as Zuko does not let go of his prize. He keeps his teeth snugged up against the bud of his nipple, tongue playing along it and moaning as Sokka’s hips nearly bruise his with the force of his thrusts. “Zuko, Zuko , I can’t , I-”

And Zuko wants to see it, wants to feel it, so badly he thinks it could kill him if he doesn’t. His hands are still trapped above his head, Sokka’s fingers gripping his so tight he can barely feel them, but he pulls back a bit to look up and meet his gaze, smirking at the open desperation he sees looking back at him. “ C’mon baby, do it. I know you want to .” He slips his tongue forward to hook the dangling chain, pulling it into his mouth and tugging insistently, enough that Sokka’s back bows against the pressure, enough that Sokka shouts into the heated air between them. 

His hips lose their rhythm entirely, slamming forward so hard it shoves Zuko up the bed a bit, barely twice before he stills, shuddering against him as he rides it out. 

Zuko can feel the pulse of Sokka inside him, couldn’t not , with how stretched he is around the girth of his cock, and each wave has his own cock jumping, bright red and desperate against his abs. He breathes fast and hard through it, thumbs rubbing over Sokka’s soothingly as he waits, squirming beneath him as his own need becomes all consuming. “Sokka, Sokka -”

Sokka pulls back, panting roughly as he shakes his head with an incredulous smile. “You’re a menace . I should’ve known.” He gently releases Zuko’s hands and pries his legs off of him to slip out, soothing a hand down his thigh as he whines in protest. “Shh, I’ve got you, I promise.” 

Zuko feels like his bones are jelly as he is shifted, rolled atop Sokka to straddle his waist as blue eyes gaze up at him with nothing but pure adoration. And he can’t quite seem to get the space to breathe, when he feels fingers slipping into where he is now empty, gliding through the mess to stroke along perfectly and cause his hips to buck without his orders. 

Sokka grins, leaning back and using his free hand to anchor into Zuko’s thigh, adding another finger, and another, until there are four sitting snug inside him. “Come on, sweetheart, come all over me. Just like you wanted.” 

And Zuko doesn’t even have to get a hand on himself, just thrusts against Sokka’s belly and back onto his fingers, dropping his palms to Sokka’s chest to play and tweak once more, just to hear the whimper from his lips at the overstimulation. 

It is less than a minute before he is coming, streaks of white shooting across brown skin and gold jewelry, more and more, and Zuko doesn’t think he has ever come this much or this hard in his entire life .

He practically collapses afterwards, but is caught in strong arms and gently arranged and stretched back out, pressing the mess between them but he is far too out of it to care. “Fucking… shit .”

Sokka laughs, and Zuko joins in right along with him, snaking an arm around his belly to squeeze him as happiness floods right down to the bone. “Seems like maybe we were both being a little bit stupid about this, huh.”

Zuko sighs, tilting up to catch a quick kiss once more, body tingling at the pleasant feel of the simple press. “Mhm.” He lets his hand slide down the length of Sokka’s torso and down to his thigh, gripping the softness of the inner portion as it gives pleasantly beneath his fingers. “We’ve got some time to make up.” 

Sokka smirks, eyebrow raised as he catches the little wicked smile Zuko shoots his way, and it is barely a second before he is on top of him once more, and Zuko is being pressed back into the bedding. 

“Then we better get started.”

~~

Later, when they are well and truly worn out, and have managed to wipe themselves down and curl up on some fresh bedding, they barely start to doze before some telltale scratching begins at Zuko’s door. 

Sokka chuckles lightly behind him, pressing his lips to Zuko’s bare shoulder blade before levering back up with a sigh. “I’ll get him.” 

He hears the soft padding of Sokka’s steps, and the creak of the door as Sokka quietly murmurs before walking back over. 

Zuko turns towards him as he resettles, tucking himself along Sokka’s side to sprawl across his chest, and finds himself nose to nose with his dragon. 

Druk apparently had a similar idea, and has found a comfy spot along Sokka’s collar, to leave his head resting comfortably into the softness of Sokka’s pec. He blinks at Zuko a couple of times before heaving a yawn and settling down, nuzzling into the skin for a second before drifting off. 

And Zuko can feel a similar pull on himself, body exhausted and comfortable, and the slow drift of Sokka’s hand up and down his spine has him passing out before he even registers what's happening.

~Epilogue~

It doesn’t really occur to Zuko until far too late, what the repercussions of his actions would entail. 

In fact he briefly thinks it will be possible to keep it between them for a little while, to keep the prying eyes and ears out of it, but that is before he remembers a very important piece of a particular puzzle. 

In which Sokka has curated a wardrobe specifically for the heat, and has no intention of changing it anytime soon. 

Zuko doesn’t think anything of it, having made his way to council early, and leaving Sokka to sleep in for a little while, and then has to deal with his brain flying right out the window the moment his… boyfriend? Lover? His Sokka, finally walks in.

Because Sokka is as breezy as ever, in simple cut off pants and a long flowing robe with an open chest, and every single one of Zuko’s bite marks are on full fucking display. 

The council had only just arrived in its entirety, still chattering and finding their seats, but all voices drop to complete silence as they take in the sight of the freshly mauled Water Tribesman. 

And Zuko has a split second of hope that perhaps they won’t connect the dots, but it is instantly crushed as every pair of eyes in the room slowly turns to him in shock. More than a few give him a knowing smile and a quick salute, and Zuko coughs to clear his throat, face red as a cherry as he busies himself in organizing his papers. 

Kalina is far too amused and more than a bit smug as she leans into his space. “My wife bought these leather straps for me to bite into instead. Very supple. Would you like the name of the craftsman?”

Zuko chokes, thumping a hand into his chest as he tries to breathe, and ignores the snickering that Kalina immediately breaks into. “ Shut up .” But then he chances a look out at Sokka, who is throwing his head back to laugh at something one of the other councilors says, and the unmarked expanse of skin along his throat has Zuko nearly salivating . 

“Yes.”

~Fin~