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Zuko is sat on their couch, blinking blearily at a black television screen. He scrubs his hand across his face and sighs.
It’s seven in the morning and this is the third day in a row he hasn’t slept. He’s getting desperate.
“I’m telling you I’ve tried everything. Exercise, meditation, Uncle’s special herb blend, no screen time an hour before I lay down, the over the counter shit. Nothing has worked.”
“Mm,” Sokka hums in thought, taking a sip of his coffee. “You might need to see an actual doctor.”
“No.” Absolutely not. Zuko hates being poked and prodded. The thought of someone he doesn’t know touching him makes his skin crawl.
“They would be able to help.”
“No chance. I’m not going to see a doctor because I can’t sleep.” Zuko sneers.
“Yes sir, Mr. GrumpyPants,” Sokka salutes good naturedly. “No doctors, loud and clear.”
Zuko groans and deflates back onto the couch, letting his eyes close. He doesn’t mean to be so snappy, but he’s tired, goddamnit. He’s tired and stressed and it feels like it’s all wound up in his stomach, a lead weight weighing him down.
“Eventually you’ll just drop, you know? Your brain will shut down and you’ll be in snooze land. Especially if you’ve already tried your meditation exercises. If your uncle doesn’t have an herbal remedy we may just have to…” Sokka trails off, only to start almost immediately back up again.
One of the many good things about Sokka is that he can talk. He used to get a lot of shit for it growing up, annoyed everyone he could with his endless train of thought. Zuko never minded, even when he pretended like he did. Sokka’s voice soothed him, eased the hackles Zuko always had raised. Even now Zuko can feel himself melting a little further into the couch, spine softening and hands unclenching.
“I mean, that’s probably unlikely considering your resistance to taking anything harder than over the counter meds.” Sokka pauses, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Zuko cracks an eye to watch. “Have you tried-” he starts but cuts himself off, pink coloring his cheeks.
Now that’s interesting. Zuko can count on one hand the amount of times Sokka was flustered enough to blush, and they went through puberty together.
Zuko sits up. “Have I tried what?”
Sokka makes a face. “You know.”
Zuko frowns, “I promise I don’t.”
Sokka groans. “You’re really going to make me say it?”
“Say what?”
“You know! The thing that gives us endorphins, makes us relax?”
Zuko blinks at him.
Sokka takes a deep breath, looks Zuko in the eyes and crudely mimes what is very clearly jerking off.
Zuko flushes bright red. “Of course I haven’t tried that!” he snaps, “I’m not a teenager.”
“Doesn’t matter if you’re fifty, sweetheart." Sokka grins, "Biology is biology. Jerking off might be the solution to your bad sleeping habits.”
Zuko lets his head fall back against the couch. “Is it a habit if I’m not doing it on purpose?”
“What, masturbating?”
Zuko shoots him a sharp look. “Sokka.”
“Yeah, my bad. I’m sorry.” He sits gingerly next to Zuko, a hand coming up to pet through Zuko’s hair. “I know you’re frustrated and you don’t feel good. I know it’s silly, but an orgasm really might help. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I did.”
Zuko just nods, enjoying the feeling of Sokka’s fingers running through his hair.
That’s just the thing, Zuko isn’t uncomfortable listening to Sokka suggesting masturbation. He’s a healthy man in his twenties, he doesn’t jerk off often, but when he does he gets the job done. It’s not like he doesn’t want to pleasure himself, far from it. It’s just that whenever he does his thoughts roam from a faceless, nameless body to someone more familiar. Someone with brown skin and blue eyes, someone whose scent is engrained in his nose and whose voice makes his heart warm and his belly flutter.
It’s his deepest secret. Being desperately in love with his best friend.
It’s something he plans take to the grave. He’s kept it to himself all these years, throughout the weirdness of childhood, high school, college, and now. Now they’re roommates. They live in the same two bedroom apartment. They split bills and grocery costs. They’re even looking into getting a joint bank account so finances are easier to manage.
So confessing his unwavering love to his lifelong best friend and potentially ruining everything?
Not a chance.
But late at night, when Zuko is alone in his bed, sometimes he’ll get flashes of what it could be like. Would Sokka be soft and sweet? Hungry and frantic? Maybe he’d talk Zuko through jerking off without laying a hand on him, blue eyes hot with desire. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to help himself, maybe he’d put his hands all over Zuko,
“Well, maybe you should.” Sokka’s words break him out of his thoughts and he startles, speaks without thinking.
“Yeah, maybe.”
Sokka gives his hair one last pet and squeezes his shoulder. Worryingly, it has the same effect on his heart. “That’s the spirit.”
What has he gotten himself into?
___
He shut himself away in his bedroom an ten minutes ago. Nighttime routine completed, freshly showered, wearing a loose t-shirt and his briefs.
He settles on the bed, sighing at the feel of the soft sheets against his skin. He’s already a little hard, the anticipation of knowing his plan for the night getting to him in the shower. He had to try to not give himself more than a resolute stroke or two while washing. If this was going to help him sleep, he wanted to already be in his bed.
He closes his eyes, slides his hand down his stomach, slipping into his underwear, fingers lightly tracing through the neatly trimmed patch of dark hair that rests at his pelvis.
He wraps his hand around his cock, pulling it out of his briefs just enough to pump himself to full hardness. His mind wanders, as it always does. He imagines a different hand stroking him, a hand that’s wider and more calloused. Imagines a pair of soft lips tracing down his skin.
He tightens his grip, rolling hips into the even pressure of his hand. He feels good; Sokka might actually be right about jerking off helping him sleep.
The thought of Sokka sets him off again, toes curling and cock pulsing in his hand.
The image of Sokka’s face swims in his head, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent moan as Zuko thinks about touching him, thinks about running his hands along Sokka’s sturdy chest, thinks about squeezing the plush muscle of his pecs. Zuko grunts, stroking himself faster, he so close to tipping over the edge, desperate to come, but it’s no use. Try as he might, he’s actually too tired get himself off.
Pathetic.
He glances at his phone. Porn is always an option, though he had never really been that into it. Not that he’s a purest or anything, nothing is inherently wrong with porn as long as all parties want to be there. Zuko has just always needed a connection to make his dick respond appropriately.
It’s kinda annoying, really
Which leads into his next problem.
He can’t come, but he also can’t stop thinking about Sokka. He’s so desperate, his head and his cock hurt, he’s bone-weary with exhaustion. The only thing coursing through him is pure, unfettered want.
Zuko wants and wants and wants so bad. A steady thrum of it racketing through his body.
Before he can think about it too hard, he tucks his dick back into his underwear, grabs his phone, and types out a message.
[Zuko 10:23 p.m.]
I need help.
Zuko stares at his phone, thinks about this potentially life changing decision for all of three seconds, and presses send.
Luckily, or unluckily, Sokka answers almost immediately.
[Sokka 10:24 p.m.]
still can’t sleep?
[Zuko 10:24 p.m.]
Yeah.
Zuko waits, steadfastly ignoring his erection and the sudden spike of nerves.
[Sokka 10:26 p.m.]
did you try the thing i mentioned earlier?
[Zuko 10:26 p.m.]
Yes.
[Sokka 10:28 p.m.]
did it work?
[Zuko 10:29 p.m.]
Obviously fucking not if I’m texting you about it.
[Sokka 10:29 p.m.]
alright alright
no need to get snippy
Zuko sighs. This isn’t going well. He doesn’t know what he was thinking in the first place, texting Sokka for what? To ask him to come jerk Zuko off? To wrap his big, warm hands around Zuko’s cock and grip him tight, thumbing over the plush head of his cock?
Zuko’s erection throbs at the thought, and he exhales shakily. He skims his hand down his torso, stopping just shy of the base of his cock.
The phone vibrates.
[Sokka 10:31 p.m.]
zuko
[Sokka 10:32 p.m.]
zuko what kind of help did you want?
Shit. Abort mission abort mission. He’s in over his head. Why did he think texting Sokka was a good idea?
[Sokka 10:33 p.m.]
did you want me to help you?
[Zuko 10:34 p.m.]
Don’t make me say it.
[Sokka 10:34 p.m.]
fuck
[Sokka 10:34 p.m.]
baby this isn’t a joke, right?
ur not fucking with me?
[Zuko 10:35 p.m.]
Not a joke.
I promise.
[Sokka 10:35 p.m.]
you want my help, pretty boy?
Zuko flushes. Trust Sokka to pull out an old nickname from when they were teens. Sokka used to call him pretty boy every chance he got, until Zuko confronted him with all the fiery rage of an angsty teenager, asking why Sokka would make fun of him if he was supposed to be his friend.
Sokka had fumbled through an apology, stuttering over his words in a way that wasn’t like him. It was then Zuko started to understand that Sokka was only painfully sincere, and meant every compliment he had ever given.
[Sokka 10:36 p.m.]
i need you to say it, honey.
give me something to work with so i know i’m not taking advantage of you.
[Zuko 10:36 p.m.]
Yes.
Please, I want that.
[Sokka 10:37 p.m.]
yeah?
want me in your bed
running my hands all over you?
Zuko gasps, fumbling his phone in his grip. He can almost feel Sokka’s hands on him. He wants the real thing. He shifts against his sheets, almost squirmy at the thought.
[Zuko 10:37 p.m.]
God, please. Yes. That’s what I want.
Zuko bites his lip and takes the plunge.
[Zuko 10:38 p.m.]
I want you to touch me.
Please come in here, don’t make me ask again.
Zuko throws his phone to the side, uncaring of where it lands and buries his face in his hands.
A soft knock at his door announces Sokka’s arrival.
“Can I come in?” His voice is muffled through the door.
“Yeah,” Zuko croaks out, face still hidden in his hands.
The door opens, and the soft footfalls of Sokka’s bare feet sound like thunder to Zuko's ears.
Zuko can hear the double click of Sokka’s glasses as he takes them off, folds them, and places them on the nightstand. He only ever wears them if he’s reading or playing video games. Zuko absently wonders which one it was tonight.
The bed dips as Sokka sets his weight on it - carefully, so so carefully. Like he’s afraid Zuko will kick him out.
Stupid. He’s already here, sitting on Zuko’s bed, gently pulling his hands away from his eyes, thumbs rubbing along the delicate bone of Zuko’s wrist. How could Zuko tell him to leave?
“Will you look at me, sweetheart?” Sokka’s voice is honey warm, curling around the edges of Zuko’s nerves, soothing him.
Zuko open his eyes and his breath is stolen. Sokka’s hair is down out of its usual wolf tail, the usual when he goes to bed. He’s in thin sleep pants and a ratty old Naruto shirt that Zuko steals every occasion he can. Sokka must’ve gotten to the laundry basket before Zuko could.
“I need to know something before we do this.” Sokka looks calm but serious, so Zuko sits up and pays attention.
“I need to know if this is a one time thing, or if we’re gonna be expanding our relationship." Sokka takes a deep breath, he looks like he's bracing himself. "Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been stupidly in love with you since I was fifteen.”
Fifteen?
Sokka has been in love with him since they were fifteen? Over ten years ago?
“You were dating Suki when you were fifteen.” Zuko murmurs, immediately cursing himself. Why where those the words to come out of his mouth?
“Yeah, well I was trying to get over someone who didn’t seem very available at the time. Sue me.” Sokka points out, not unkindly. “Thing is, if this is a one time type of situation you need to let me know so I can get it into my head. I’m fine with that, I can do it. I want to. But if you want more… then I’d really like it if you’d tell me that too.”
Zuko stares at him, years of bottled up and shoved own emotions swimming in his body. It’s one thing to have Sokka desire him on a physical level, but this? He couldn’t have imagined that this would be an option. He feels like he’s going to combust. He can’t get the right words to string themselves together, the only thing in his brain is a flashing neon sign that reads SOKKA LOVES ZUKO.
What comes out of his mouth is a bewildered, “More?”
Sokka nods, loose hair swaying with his head. “More. Like, a relationship-more. Dates, handing holding, kissing, letting you meet my dad, staying together until the end of time. That kind of thing.”
“But I’ve already met Hakoda.”
“Yeah, but not as my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” Zuko repeats dumbly.
Sokka nods again, patiently. “Boyfriend, partner, soulmate. Whatever floats your boat. I’m not too picky as long as it’s you.”
Zuko stares, eyes wide, mind swirling with questions; Sokka wants to be with him? Sokka is in love with him? Sokka wants to be with him until the end of time?
“But if you don’t,” Sokka starts, voice soft. “that’s okay too. I’m not going to like, move out or stop being in your life if you don’t feel the same. It’s a pretty tall ask, to love someone so much.” Sokka pauses, and then scrambles to say, “Not that I don’t think you love me! I know you do, at least as a friend. You wouldn’t have stuck with me this long if you didn’t love me in some way.” Sokka looks down, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. A longtime nervous habit that Zuko had always found endearing.
He takes a deep breath, “What I’m trying to say is that it’s okay if you don’t love me the way I love you.” He says the words fast, like it’s painful to speak them. He’s very clearly giving Zuko an out, even though it would hurt himself in the long run. If Zuko only wanted the physical release and nothing else, Sokka would do it. He would sacrifice himself to make Zuko feel good and suddenly Zuko can’t stomach the thought of Sokka believe Zuko wouldn’t return his feelings.
And Zuko thinks it's his turn to be brave.
“But I do,” Zuko says, lifting his head to meet Sokka’s wide eyed stare. He reaches out and grabs Sokka’s hands. “I’m so in love with you. I don’t think you understand.”
Sokka looks like he’s been hit over the head. “You love me?”
“I love you.”
“You love me?” He’s dumbfounded. It’s like he can’t believe it.
“For as long as I can remember.”
Sokka takes a sharp breath.
“But you don’t date?” He says, almost like he’s talking to himself. He looks up. “You haven’t been with anyone in years, right? Not since we moved in?”
Zuko shakes his head shyly, “Because of you. I was so caught up on you. I couldn’t have anyone else in my head when you take up so much space.”
They’re so close now. Steadily leaning towards one another, hands still clasped together. They’re connected this way, breathing the same air, pulled into each other’s orbit.
No force could make them part.
Sokka raises one of their conjoined hands, places a kiss to Zuko’s knuckles. “Can I kiss you?”
Zuko nods, surging forward to press their lips together.
Sokka kisses Zuko like he has been desperate for this. He angles his head just so, tangles his fingers in Zuko’s hair and licks into his mouth. Zuko can’t stop the whine ripped from his throat.
Had he known kissing Sokka felt like this, felt like the summation of everything good and wonderful int he world, he would’ve confessed earlier.
Their kiss starts frantic, hands grasping in shirts, hair, caressing jaws, and soothing down spines. Zuko never wants the taste of anything other than Sokka on his tongue again. Now that he has it, he doesn’t know if he could go on without.
One kiss and it’s done. Zuko’s existence is forever tethered to the feel of Sokka’s lips, the slide of his tongue, the feel of his palms running along Zuko’s flushed skin, the soft swipe of a thumb across his scar, followed by a tender press of Sokka’s lips placed on the damaged lid of his left eye.
The kiss slows, gentling into soft caresses and quiet sounds, like they have all the time in the world. And really, they might as well. Zuko could exist here forever, his mouth attached to Sokka’s, until time eventually stops.
They break apart, foreheads pressed together and chests heaving for breath.
“Thought you wanted my help, sweetheart.” Sokka whispers, breath fanning across Zuko’s lips.
Zuko’s mind is still reeling from both the kiss and Sokka’s confession. The fact that they are together now, no longer Zuko and Sokka but ZukoandSokka, has shaken his very foundation.
“Help?” He asks, shuddering as Sokka’s fingers trail lightly up and down sides.
“Mhmm,” Sokka agrees, siding a hand down further to hook into the waistband of Zuko’s briefs and snap them back to his skin. “A little sleep aid?” Sokka pulls back to blink at him innocently.
Zuko laughs, “You’re so stupid.”
“Yeah, but you love me.”
“I do.” Zuko says, smiling at him.
Sokka looks stunned for a moment, shakes his head. “Lay down, honey. Get comfy. We’ll tire you out in no time.”
Zuko starts to obey, but stops short. “I, uh. I’ve showered, but I’m not really prepared to… I don’t think I want to-”
Thankfully, Sokka stops him before he can fumble over his words more. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, I promise. We don’t have to do anything actually. If you want to lay here and cuddle until we pass out, I’m perfectly cool with that.”
“Cuddles sound nice-”
Sokka nods in agreement, looking at Zuko fondly.
“-but so does getting off.” Zuko finishes, blushing at his own boldness.
Sokka just nods quicker, leaning forward to press a kiss to Zuko breathless again.
“I’ll give you anything you want, just say the word.”
You’ve already given me everything, Zuko thinks deliriously. He nods, and shuffles back to lay down, head on the pillows.
He looks over at Sokka, “I want you to lay beside me, and I want your hands on me. I want you to make me come.”
He can see Sokka swallow. “I can do that. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”
A bolt of heat shoots down Zuko’s spine, curling in his belly. The last dregs of arousal had fled his body during their emotional conversation, but Zuko doesn’t think it will take much to get him hard and aching again.
Sokka slides up against him, adjusting Zuko’s arm so it wraps around him and pillowing his head on Zuko’s shoulder. He spreads his hand wide across Zuko’s chest, and Zuko knows he can feel how fast his heart is beating.
Sokka stretches his body out, easily nosing along the sensitive skin of Zuko’s neck.
“You smell good.”
Zuko shakes his head, curling his hand around Sokka’s waist. “I smell like soap. I got out of the shower half an hour ago.”
“Not soap,” Sokka replies, shifting so his lips are pressed against Zuko’s skin now. “You smell soft.”
Zuko presses into his embrace, reveling in the fact that this is something he can do now.
“Soft isn’t a smell.”
“Is so, I’m smelling it right now. You don’t know my nose.”
“I know everything about you.”
A kiss to the underside of his jaw, “Now you do.”
A shiver runs down his body. He closes this eyes and takes a breath, focused on feeling the hot line on body contact between them. Sokka’s body has always run hot, near feverish to the touch.
When they were younger, Zuko used to forget his gloves on purpose because he knew Sokka would freak out, would scold him lightly about taking better care of himself while warming his hands between his own.
Zuko shifts his leg, pressing his thigh to the package of Sokka’s groin, biting back a groan at Sokka’s gasp of arousal. He can feel himself stirring again, cock twitching at the tiny, slow grinds of Sokka’s hips.
“This okay? Can I rub against you?”
“God, yes. I like it.”
Sokka moans lowly, pushing his hardness into Zuko with more confidence. He’s fully hard now, and he’s thick. Zuko’s mouth waters at thought of sucking it into his mouth, tonguing around the ridge of the smooth cockhead, taking Sokka down his throat, being consumed-
Sokka slides his hand down Zuko’s torso, fingers teasing at the band of Zuko’s briefs once more. If Zuko were to look down he’d see himself straining against the front of his underwear.
“Push these down?” Sokka asks.
Zuko whimpers in reply, using his free hand to frantically pull the elastic down far enough that his cock springs out, bobbing helplessly. He can’t help his hips from raising off the bed, already desperate for friction pressure anything against his cock.
Sokka places a leg across one of Zuko’s, pressing him back down into the mattress with a muscled, firm thigh.
“Sorry,” Zuko gets out, “I don’t mean to be- I just-”
“Shh, it’s okay,” Sokka whispers against his jaw, hand rubbing calming circles on his stomach. “Don’t worry about it. Stop thinking so hard.”
Zuko snorts, but it turns into something uglier when Sokka hand slides down and grips the base of his cock. “Me? Stop thinking?”
“Yeah, just let your mind go quiet.”
Zuko huffs, “Fat chance of that happening.”
“Mmm,” Sokka hums, nudging his nose against the sharp line of Zuko’s jaw. The touch is soft, erotic. “Fat chance,” he tightens his grip on Zuko, “fat fuckin’ cock, too.”
Zuko gasps, hips trying to raise off the bed to get more friction but they're blocked by the weight of Sokka's heavy thigh.
“Who would’ve known you were packing so much heat, sweetheart? Keeping it a secret from everyone, from me.”
“Sokka,” He says, breathless at the feel of Sokka’s hand wrapped around him.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Sokka’s hand glides up the length of Zuko’s cock. “You wanted to hide this perfect body,” down “this perfect cock,” up “this tight ass,” down “away from me.”
Sokka clicks his tongue in mock reproach as Zuko shudders in his hold. “How long?” he asks.
Zuko can barely think, mind zeroed in on the hand pumping his cock, the feel of Sokka’s warm body pressed against his side. “What?”
Sokka shifts, pressing his lips against the underside of Zuko’s jaw. “How long were you going to keep this away from me?” He kisses Zuko’s overheated skin, mouths along the sharp jut of the bone. He circles his thumb around Zuko’s cockhead to feel him jerk. Zuko moans, loud.
“You gonna answer me, sweetheart?” Another vicious stroke to his cock followed by a tight squeeze that makes Zuko jolt.
“Yes,” Zuko gasps, “I’m s-sorry.”
“No no,” Sokka shushes him. “No sorries. You never have to apologize for feeling good. I was just teasing anyway.” Sokka stops stroking Zuko and instead runs his hand up Zuko’s belly, pushing his shirt past his nipples, pebbled with arousal.
“God you look so good. Do you even know how pretty you are?” He asks, eyes roaming up and down Zuko’s flushed body.
“M’not,” Zuko disagrees. He’s never been pretty. Always mocked throughout childhood for being too scrawny, and then as a teenager for the scar that marred the left half of his face.
Once, in their junior year of college, Zuko was asked on date. To this day he doesn’t really know why he said yes. To fit in, probably. A desperate attempt to make himself be seen as normal. Maybe a little part of him wanted Sokka to be jealous, but he wasn’t ready to face that particular truth at the time.
Partying wasn’t his thing, but the guy, Adam, insisted. Said he’s make sure Zuko had a good time, that he’d take care of him. Zuko agreed.
They met at the bar, some sleazy place that Zuko had never been to. He’d only been to one other bar before, and that was with Sokka and the rest of their friends. They had fun, had a few drinks and Sokka had convinced him to dance. Zuko had enjoyed himself.
This, Zuko already knows, is going to be different. The bar is pulsing with loud music, and it’s packed full.
He meets Adam by the bar, surrounded by all of his loud frat friends.
“There he is!” Adam opens his arms like he expects Zuko to fall into them.
When he doesn’t, Adam frowns, reaches forward to grip Zuko’s wrist just a little to hard to pull him in. “‘Bout time you showed up,” he says.
Zuko laughs nervously, “Sorry. Got caught up. Sokka needed help with a project."
Adam frowns at the mention of Sokka's name, so t hey sit in awkward silence.
Well, Zuko does.
Adam carries on with his friends, laughing loudly at stories of their latest sexual escapades.
The only time Adam pays attention to him is when he orders drinks, something Zuko knows is not going to be to his taste.
Adam taps his fingers against the bar, waiting for the bartender to come back. “Bitch is takin’ forever,’ he complains.
Zuko wrinkles his nose in distaste, and Adam must notice, because he suddenly stands.
“Hey, come here. Need to show you something.”
Zuko hesitates, “I don’t know. This isn’t really my scene, you know?”
Adam scoffs, “Yeah, that’s why I brought you here. Wanted you to see my side of things.”
That rubs Zuko the wrong way. Now he's desperately wishing that we didn’t cancel his and Sokka’s regular Friday night take out and anime marathon for this stupid date. He lifts his chin definitely, “I think I’ve seen enough. I’d rather go home.”
Adam pouts, lips pushing out in disappointment. “You just got here, babe. C’mon, five more minutes? I think you’ll really like this.”
Zuko agrees reluctantly, so Adam leads him through the crowd of dancing bodies, pushing his way to the very back of the building. He turns and grins at Zuko, pushing him through a door and closing it behind him.
Zuko stumbles, spreads his arms out to catch his balance on… a shelf?
The light flicks on. They’re in a storage closet. Metal shelving units on each wall piled high with boxes, cleaning supplies, buckets, and other necessities. He looks at Adam, and his stomach clenches at the look on his face.
“Need you to do something for me, babe.” Adam says, stepping closer. The pet name sound wrong coming out of his drunken lips.
“Don’t call me babe,” Zuko says, backing himself into the hard line of the shelf behind him.
Adam follows. He places his hands on Zuko’s hips, leans in and tries to plant a messy kiss on Zuko’s lips
“Don’t touch me.” Zuko mumbles, turning his head. His mind fuzzy with disbelief. What’s happening?
“C’mon, don't you wanna make me happy? Why don't you just get on your knees.” His hands press against the top of Zuko’s shoulders, trying to force him down.
“I said don’t fucking touch me.” Zuko snaps, shoving him away.
“God, what’s your problem anyway? Someone tries to show you some fun and you bitch about it.”
“Fun?” Zuko says, shoving at him. “This is your idea of fun?”
Adam grins at him, sleazy. “My idea of fun is getting you to let loose, baby. Wanted to see how wild you could get.” Zuko’s face curls in disgust, but Adam doesn’t notice. “Knew you would get feisty without that big dumbass following you around all the time. Just had to get you alone.”
Adam crowds him against the shelf again, pins him there with his arms and leans in. The smell of his breath makes Zuko’s stomach churn. “C’mon, I know you want to. You must be all pent up, I know you don’t let that idiot fuck you. I see how he looks at you.”
Zuko stops struggling, he freezes. Muscles locked. “What?”
“You know, that stupid mother fucker that guards you like you’re fuckin’ royalty or something. Calls you pet names like he owns you. What’s his name? Sacka? Sokka?”
Adam’s head snaps back before Zuko realizes that he hit him. He shakes his hand out while Adam stumbles back.
“You fucking bitch!” Adam spits a mouthful of blood onto the floor. “I think you knocked a tooth out!”
“I’ll do more than that if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” Zuko tells him, more calm than he feels. He’s shaky on the inside, like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin.
Adam takes a step forward, fists clenched at his sides like he’s going to strike back, but his eyes are wary. He clearly didn’t expect Zuko to put up a fight.
“Get out of here before I knock another one of your goddamn teeth out."
He leaves, and Zuko takes a shuddering breath, quickly locking the door behind him.
What the fuck. Zuko knows he could leave now, but the thought of running into Adam and his friends makes him freeze. He didn’t even drive himself here.
He takes another deep breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth. There’s one person he could call.
Zuko takes out his phone out and dials Sokka’s number, one of the only ones he has memorized.
The phone only rings twice before Sokka answers.
“What’s up, sweet cheeks?”
The sound of Sokka’s voice fills him with relief. Sokka will know what to do. Sokka can get him out of here.
“Sokka,” Zuko says shakily, “can you come pick me up?”
“What’s wrong?” Sokka’s voice changes immediately, he’s serious, urgent. “Did something happen?”
“Can you just- will you come get me? Please?”
“I’m on my way right now, honey.” Zuko can hear his keys jingling in the background. The phone connection rustling as Sokka puts on his shoes. “Where are you at?”
Zuko tells him the name of the bar and Sokka curses.
There’s a muted but heavy slam of a car door, the smooth rumble of the engine as Sokka starts the car.
“Are you safe?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m by myself.”
He can hear the long exhale of Sokka’s breath.
“Where’s Adam?” Sokka asks, voice tight.
“Dunno, he left after I punched him.”
“You punched him?” Zuko can hear Sokka’s engine as he accelerates.
“Please don’t speed.”
“You can’t tell me you punched your date and expect me not to want to get to you faster. It doesn’t work that way.”
Zuko sighs and sinks to the floor. He folds his legs and hugs them to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
Sokka clicks his tongue, “You don’t need to be sorry. Just- god. Just tell me you’re okay. Tell me you gave him a black eye and then he left.”
“Knocked a tooth out, I think.”
Sokka laughs, but it’s not all there. “That’s my boy. I’ll be there in five minutes, stay with me til I get there?”
“Yeah.”
It’s silent. Zuko doesn’t feel like talking, has always been more prone to turning inward when stressed, and Sokka knows this. He doesn’t press Zuko to talk, which Zuko is quietly thankful for.
Instead, he listens to the sounds of Sokka driving. Finds comfort in the soft sounds of his breathing, the smooth growl of the engine, the click of the turn signal, and eventually the sound of Sokka putting the car in park and slamming the door.
“Where are you?”
“Custodian closet, I think. Black door all the way in the back.”
“Be right there.”
Sokka ends the call and Zuko only has time to stand before there’s a knock on the door.
“It’s me, honey. Let me in.”
He scrambles to unlock the the latch, and stumbles back when Sokka all but bursts through the door.
The rush of emotion Zuko feels when he sees Sokka surprises him. He didn’t realize how upset he actually was until his body recognized that he was finally safe. Zuko bursts into tears, big, chest-rattling sobs breaking through.
“S-Sokka,”
“I know. I got you now. I got you.” Sokka hushes him, gathers him into his arms and hugs him tight. He rocks him back and forth, whispering reassurances, tucks Zuko’s head into his neck and let’s him hide his tears.
"Thank you for coming to get me," Zuko says wetly, speaking through the roughness in this throat.
Sokka pulls back, hands moving to cradle Zuko's cheeks. He watches as Sokka’s eyes rapidly move across his body, checking for injuries and evidence of whatever went wrong.
"You want to tell me what happened?"
Zuko shakes his head, "Not yet. Maybe when we get home. I just really want to shower and lay on the couch."
A thumb swipes across Zuko's face, wiping the tear tracks clean.
"Will you stay with me tonight?"
Sokka's eyes soften, "Of course, you're not getting rid of me anytime soon. I promise."
Sokka takes his hand, links their finger together. "Ready?"
"Yeah, let's go home."
They almost make it past the bar before they're caught.
“You takin’ my date home?” Adam laughs, nudging one of his drunk friends with an elbow. “Enjoy my sloppy seconds,” he calls after them.
Zuko is stopped by the brick wall that is Sokka, frozen at Adam’s jeers. He turns, places Zuko a few steps behind him, and calmly walks to Adam.
“What did you say to me?”
Adam turns and scoffs, disbelieving that Sokka is choosing to talk back to him. “I said, enjoy my sloppy seconds. I knew you’d come pick him up. What he tell you? Tried to get a lil frisky and I turned him down?”
“You tried to assault him, you piece of shit. You’re lucky I don’t rearrange your face more than he already has.”
“Little bitch caught me by surprise,” Adam spits back, face twisted ugly in his anger. “Didn’t think he had to balls to hit someone. Can’t wait to report that to the fuckin’ cops. Surprised he didn’t try to scar my face up like his is. Probably did it himself for some attention-”
This time, Adam sees the hit coming.
He tries to dodge, but he’s no match for a focused and pissed off Sokka. Sokka’s fist connects to his nose with a mighty crack, sending him to the floor instantly. His friends rush over, but stop when they catch the glare Sokka sends their way.
Zuko has never seen Sokka look so imposing before. Sure, he’s got height, but he’s broad too. Thick in his chest and shoulders in a way that Zuko will never be. Zuko stares and watches Sokka curl his hands into fists. He knows that if any of Adam’s friends tried to come to his rescue, Sokka would deal with them accordingly.
Sokka stands over Adam, the scowl on his face vivid. “If I ever, ever, see you around Zuko again, I’ll make sure you regret it. If I catch even a glance of your stupid, ugly mug out of the corner of my eye, I’m gonna be on you.” Sokka squats down and grips the meat of Adam’s jaw, uncaring of the whimper of pain that escapes him and the blood that runs from his nose. “You don’t look at him, you don’t talk to him, you don’t even think about him. You understand?”
Adam groans, watery eyes closing in pain until Sokka shakes him roughly. “You understand?” He says again, pointed. Zuko has never seen Sokka so furious, so primed and ready to take someone down.
For once, Zuko doesn’t feel guilty about admiring him.
“I understand,” Adam whimpers.
“Good.”
Sokka pushes his head away as he stands, ignoring the grunt of pain from Adam and the whispers all the others in the bar.
He walks over to Zuko, wipes his bloody hand on his jeans, and uses the same hand he punched Adam with to gently, so gently, encircle Zuko’s wrist. He tugs him into his body, and Zuko goes willingly. Why wouldn’t he? He’s safe now. No one who witnessed what just happened would be stupid enough to stop either of them.
“Let’s go home, sweetheart.”
And here he is now, still tucked into Sokka's embrace, surrounded.
Sokka, his boyfriend/partner/soulmate. Withering together on his bed, hands rubbing and grasping, pulling each other closer, lips pressed to feverish skin. Savoring one another like they have endless time.
“You are,” Sokka is saying, “you are so beautiful. Never met someone so gorgeous.” He ducks his head down to mouth along the hot skin of Zuko’s ribs, kissing his way up to his nipples. He sucks one into his mouth, his hand moving down to cup and then squeeze Zuko’s balls.
Zuko shivers, hips grinding down, trying to find some sort of friction. His cock is bobbing in the air, head dark with arousal and wet with precum. He’s so hard it hurts. Hurts in the most delicious way.
“Sokka,” he gasps.
Sokka sucks harder, laving his tongue against the pebbled bud of Zuko’s nipple. He pulls back, a thin line of salvia still connecting them. “Fuck, you sound pretty too. I like it when you say my name.”
“Sokka.”
“That’s it, sweetheart.”
Sokka’s gives his balls one last squeeze, then grasps his cock to pump him slowly, thumb sliding over the head of his cock every other pass. Zuko has never felt so good. But he wants more. He can feel the length of Sokka’s body pressed against his, can feel the thickness of his cock pressed against his thigh
He wants to feel more.
Zuko turns on his side, pushing his back against Sokka’s chest, and tugging his underwear further down, the waistband hugging under the meat of his ass.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just want to feel you more.”
Sokka groans, placing a open mouthed kiss to the back of Zuko’s neck. He rolls his hips up, rutting his cock in the dip of Zuko’s cheeks “Still okay?”
“Yeah- oh.” Zuko rolls his hips, torn between rocking back on the cock pressed against him or fucking forward into Sokka’s fist. “Please don’t stop.”
Sokka places another kiss to Zuko’s neck, wiggles his arm underneath Zuko to hold him tighter, and begins stroking Zuko again with his free hand. “I won’t, I promise. I got you.”
I got you.
The words echo in Zuko’s head. Sokka loves me. He has me. I’m his and he is mine.
They’re lost in each other. Chests heaving, breaths gasping. They’re both shaking, trembling with need. Their shirts are still on, sticking to their humid skin. Zuko feels delirious with pleasure. His heart is pounding. Swears he can feel the pulse of Sokka’s cock in time with his own, can feel the wet spot of precum staining the cotton of Sokka’s sleep pants.
He can feel his orgasm building from his toes, working it’s way up his body, making him shake.
“You gonna come?”
Zuko nods, “Y-yeah. Sokka, oh fuck. Please. I’m- nngh, I'm gonna come.”
Sokka pushes his hips against Zuko’s ass harder, massages the head of Zuko’s cock one, twice, a third time
“Coming-“ Zuko says, and it’s barely a word.
He spills over Sokka’s hand, in between his fingers. Thick and hot and slick. Sokka strokes him through it, face buried in the back of Zuko’s neck, hips grinding hard into Zuko’s ass until he empties himself, moaning low and long.
Sokka pulls him in tight against his chest, and Zuko melts. All previous tension gone. They lay there for countless minutes, breaths slowing, sweat and cum cooling between them. Eventually, Sokka wrinkles his nose at the mess in his pajama pants.
“Hey honey,” Sokka whispers into Zuko’s hair, inhaling the clean smell of his jasmine shampoo. “We should get cleaned up.”
Silence. Only Zuko’s deep breathing permeates the air.
“Zuko?” he whispers.
He’s about to move, to poke his head around to see Zuko’s face, worried that maybe Zuko was already regretting this, when a snore cuts through his panicked thinking.
Sokka smiles, gathers Zuko up tighter in his arms and snuggles down to nap.
They’ll get to it eventually. They always do.