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The first time it happens, it hits him like a sack of bricks, both literally and figuratively.
Zuko’s been with them for a few days, and while Katara is usually the one that watches over his lessons with Aang to make sure nothing hinky is going on, Sokka will freely admit that he’s made a habit of being in Zuko’s general vicinity when he practices with his swords. Ever since Piandao had given him lessons, Sokka has gotten pretty good at telling when someone knows what they’re doing with a blade. And Zuko clearly knows what he’s doing.
Not that Sokka will ever admit that where the jerkbender can hear him.
Still, watching Zuko practice makes him itch for something to do. Everyone else is working their ass off to be ready for the comet, but Sokka’s not a bender, so the only thing he can do is work with his sword to prepare.
How convenient, then, that there is another swordsman here.
“Hey, jerkbender!” Sokka calls. The nickname itself is funny, but probably the funniest thing is that Zuko actually answers to it.
“What?!” Zuko says, cocking his head to look at him from his one good eye.
“You any good with that?” Sokka motions with his head towards the twin dao blades.
He imagines he can hear Zuko’s teeth grind over the distance. “Yes.”
“I don’t see it.” Sokka shrugs, nonchalant. “How about you show me?” Zuko looks confused, and Sokka heaves a large sigh. “You. Me. Swords. Let’s see how you fare against a real swordsman.”
Zuko snorts. “You? A real swordsman?”
“Yes!” Sokka declares. “I’m a trained swordsman! You don’t know what you will be facing.”
Zuko looks him up and down with a sceptical air. Sokka is thankful that his dark skin hides the flush in his cheeks.
“You couldn’t have gotten that good in the time we didn’t see each other,” Zuko concludes.
Sokka draws himself up in indignation. “I’ll have you know that I was trained by the great swordmaster Piandao!”
“Piandao?” Zuko says, contemplative. “I guess he wouldn’t have trained you if you were completely hopeless.”
“You know Master Piandao? I guess all of you Fire Nation guys must be pretty chummy.”
“Not all,” Zuko answers, scowling. “Master Piandao is a legend. He once defeated a hundred Fire Nation soldiers with only his sword. He trained me for a while. That’s where I learned to use the dao.”
Suddenly, Sokka is not so confident about this match. He’s only trained with Piandao for a couple of days. He has a sneaking suspicion that Zuko trained for a lot longer, if only because Piandao would not have allowed a student he’s not satisfied with to leave his tutelage.
But he’d already challenged Zuko, and he’s not about to go back on his word in front of the jerkbender. So Sokka fetches his sword and stands across from Zuko, valiantly ignoring the way he can see Zuko’s muscles flex as he draws his dao.
“Come on, jerkbender!” Sokka grins. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Zuko sighs. “If your sister yells at me later, I’ll tell her you asked for it.”
Sokka doesn’t even see Zuko move. One moment, he’s several feet away, twin dao raised in a ready stance, and the next, something is sweeping Sokka's legs from under him, and he’s hitting the dirt hard, a blade against his throat.
Zuko looks down at him from above, crowned in bright sunlight. His eyes are very gold.
Sokka can feel all his thoughts go bye-bye.
“I win,” says Zuko.
“Hng,” says Sokka.
Distantly, he’s kind of proud of himself for getting out at least that much.
He makes no move to get up even after Zuko removes his sword. Instead, he blinks upward and tries very hard to ignore the sudden heat in his stomach. The whole situation is not helped by the fact that Zuko handles the dao with steady surety, expertly flipping them over and placing them in the sheath.
Zuko frowns at him when he sees Sokka is not moving. “Are you alright?”
Unfortunately, he also leans closer to take a better look at Sokka’s crumpled form. He smells like smoke, in a pleasant, campfire sort of way.
“Gnagh,” Sokka manages to spit out, eyes wide in panic. He swallows once, twice, and finally manages to gain command of his tongue so he can speak. “Fine, everything is fine down here! It’s just— it’s very hot.”
Maybe he should have stayed silent.
Zuko’s face scrunches up in confusion. “Did you hit your head?” And, horror of horrors, he reaches out as if he wants to check Sokka’s head for any bumps.
“No!” Sokka squeals, flinching back. Not his manliest moment, he’s ready to admit. If only the embarrassment would stop the deadly spike of attraction that caused this from spiraling, but no. His body doesn’t think being embarrassed is enough to stop thinking Zuko with a sword is hot.
Why does he keep looming over Sokka? That’s not helping either.
“Then what are you blabbing about?” Zuko asks, expertly switching from concern to irritation.
What has Sokka been blabbing about? It’s kind of hard to remember when the sun hits Zuko’s eyes just right and they actually, genuinely blaze.
Oh, right. Hot.
“Hot,” says Sokka out loud. And then, scrambling, “The air— I mean, it’s pretty hot here. We don’t have sun at the South Pole, you know. Er, not this much sun anyway. Not used to it.”
There, that sounded convincing.
“Yes, I’ve been there,” Zuko says drily. Sokka winces, because there’s no good way to continue that topic, and he’s in no state for an argument even if Zuko had definitely been at fault back then.
“Er, right,” Sokka mumbles, for lack of anything better to say. He heaves himself upwards and scoots away from Zuko as casually as he can. Judging by Zuko’s dubious look, he doesn’t quite manage to pull it off, so Sokka prays that Zuko will attribute his strange behavior to embarrassment from being beaten so badly. He is embarrassed, but not about that, so maybe it will work. “I gotta— uh, I gotta go do that thing. Something. Gotta go!”
And with that, he grabs his sword and scampers away as far as he can, determined to find a quiet place to sit and stare at the wall for a little while, just so that he can beat down the realization that he finds Prince Jerkass hot.
Except as soon as he rounds the nearest corner, he almost collides with Toph. She’s grinning, and Sokka reaches a horrifying conclusion that she’s heard it all.
This whole day is a nightmare.
…
To Sokka’s great despair, it is not a one-time occurrence.
The unfortunate fact is that Zuko is too good with his swords for Sokka not to train with him. Everything else aside, the comet will be coming soon, and Sokka is not stupid enough to ignore a training partner that can beat his ass in less than a minute and then explain, in detail, everything he did wrong. Even if that same partner looks painfully hot while he lectures Sokka about the minutiae of sword handling.
And yes, he knows exactly how that sounds. It does not help.
So, every day, Sokka subjects himself to being beaten by a stupidly hot, competent jerkbender, who clearly does not know how he affects Sokka because he keeps putting his hands on him to correct Sokka’s stance. It’s terrible. Sokka’s been blushing so often he fears his cheeks will stay dark forever.
To make the whole situation worse, Toph is having the time of her life laughing at him. Sokka already has one little sister, and he doesn’t need another, thanks. But Toph obviously sees it as her duty — and probably a hobby — to embarrass Sokka as much as she can, so after every session she finds him just to laugh at his misery.
Sokka’s life is a farce.
At least the training is paying off. For all that Zuko is gruff and cranky, he’s a decent teacher. The fact does nothing to lessen Sokka’s attraction, but his swordsmanship is also advancing by leaps and bounds. Sokka is choosing to look at the bright side, mostly to avoid facing the other side filled with embarrassment and teenage hormones. That way only leads to madness.
And so when Sokka finally manages to last more than a minute in a bout against Zuko, he’s pretty satisfied with himself. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but compared to getting dumped on his ass in only a couple of seconds, it's a visible improvement.
“Good,” says Zuko, as he once again holds the blade of his dao against Sokka’s throat. “That was better.”
Sokka’s tongue is suddenly not working, so he grumbles something under his breath and hopes Zuko will attribute it to exhaustion. He is breathing pretty heavily, even though Zuko is fresh as a daisy, that bastard.
After taking a couple of moments to catch his breath, Sokka forces himself to sit up and grab his sword from where Zuko had flung it during their very short match. He tries to keep his eyes away from Zuko, but that doesn’t last long, since Zuko refuses to cooperate.
He crouches down beside Sokka, entirely too close. “I’ve never seen a sword like that,” Zuko says, leaning forward. “What material is it made of?”
Sokka wonders if Zuko is doing some subtle firebending on him because he feels like he’s going to combust. He can’t take it anymore. This is torture. Sokka is delicate and not built for this. “Ugh— can you— can you please back off a little?”
Zuko, for the first time, seems to realize how close they are. For a moment, he looks hurt before he leans back. “Fine,” he says, much quieter than before. He turns his head away, and Sokka is abruptly aware that this way, his scar is not visible.
And now Sokka feels both horny and like a jerk. It’s not a nice combination. “It’s a space sword,” he says as a peace offering.
The bafflement seems to pierce through Zuko’s sudden bad mood. “A space sword?”
“Yeah, a rock fell from the sky, and I made a sword from it.”
“You made a sword out of rock?”
“There was metal in it!” Sokka defends himself. “It’s a metal sword! It’s just that the metal came from space."
Zuko contemplates that for a moment. “Weird,” he concludes. “Can I hold it?”
“Can you— you know what, yeah, sure, why not?” Sokka offers the sword to Zuko, hilt first.
Zuko’s long fingers fold over the grip as he handles the sword with ease. It’s not a light sword, and Sokka can feel his muscles work every time he swings it, but Zuko holds it level as if he doesn’t feel the weight. Sokka gulps.
“It feels different than steel,” Zuko says, eyes intent on the blade. “Not much, but I can tell.”
“Ugh— yeah, sure.”
Why does Zuko have golden eyes?! Honestly, that feels a bit too much.
“It’s good work, though.” Zuko drags his fingers across the naked blade, slow and even. Sokka pretty much stops breathing at this point, eyes as wide as twin moons. “You said you made it?”
Zuko rests the tip of his finger against the edge. He doesn’t press hard enough to draw blood, but it does leave a faint red mark against his skin. His palm glides back up to the hilt with steady surety. Sokka is this close to fainting.
“Sokka? Did you hear me?”
“Mmn?”
“You forged this sword?”
Sokka’s head bobbles up and down. He has no idea what he’s saying yes to. Zuko is adjusting his grip, and his long, pale fingers are clenching around the hilt.
“Did Master Piandao teach you?”
Sokka nods once again. He would have nodded even if Zuko said the sky was green.
“I thought so. He made me forge my dao, too. I think it’s his version of graduation.”
Zuko can forge swords. Zuko can forge swords pretty well, based on the high quality of the dao and the lack of wear on the blades. But maybe Sokka should have guessed it. Maybe he should have seen it coming. Maybe he should just assume that if something doesn’t involve human interaction, Zuko can do it perfectly.
Sokka allows himself to fall back on the ground with a groan and manfully ignores Zuko’s confusion.
Curse him. Curse him, and his pretty eyes, and his calloused hands, and his stupid competence that Sokka finds unbearably hot.
Why is he like this?!
…
The whole situation is really bad, but it does not become unbearable until Sokka catches Katara blushing in Zuko’s direction.
It’s a brief moment. If Sokka weren’t Katara’s older brother and if he didn’t have the same skin tone, he would have missed it. But since he knows her better than anyone else in the world and also knows how a Southern Water Tribesman looks when blushing, Sokka notices and despairs.
It’s not even a particularly sexy moment. Zuko is nowhere near a sword. Instead, he’s making tea, unusually calm, and when he hands Katara her cup, their fingers brush. Zuko does not seem to notice, but Katara’s cheeks blaze like fire.
“No,” Sokka breathes out, outraged.
Zuko tilts his head. “What?”
Sokka has no time for him. His gaze is riveted on Katara, who turns to look at him with eyes as wide as a deer dog’s in front of Appa. “No.”
“Shut up!” Katara hisses.
“What is going on?” Zuko asks. “Do you not like tea?”
“No!” Katara says, in Sokka’s direction, before visibly cringing. “No, yes, it’s fine. I love tea.”
“I love tea,” Sokka mocks under his breath.
Katara kicks him in the shin. Sokka manfully doesn’t kick her back if only because he’s sure she would bend the hot tea right into his face.
Zuko notices the byplay but does not comment. Sokka supposes that when you have a little sister that tries to kill you on the regular, a little shin-kicking doesn’t really register. Depositing Sokka’s cup in front of him, Zuko loads up the rest of them on a tray and walks off in search of Toph and Aang. He doesn’t spill a single drop even when he has to hop over the uneven ground. Sokka sighs.
When he turns back to Katara, she’s watching him with judgemental eyes.
“Shut up,” Sokka says. “This is terrible.”
“Oh, so when you sigh after him it’s fine, but one little blush from me—”
Sokka drops his head into his hands. “This can’t be happening.”
“And anyway, it’s not like I like him, it’s just that he’s—” Katara trails off, awkward.
Sokka knows. It’s terrible that he knows.
“We can't have the same taste in men!” Sokka wails. “I don’t find Aang attractive at all!”
Katara splutters. When Sokka lifts his head to look at her, she’s blushing even more furiously.
“And why are you suddenly looking at the jerkbender like that!” Sokka points an accusing finger at her. “I thought you hated him!”
“I do!” Katara agrees. “He’s horrible! All the things he did, all the ways he hunted us; I’ll never forgive him!”
“Then what’s with all of that?!”
Katara flings her arms upwards in exasperation. “Well, he’s the only one who helps me around, isn’t he?”
“...What?” Sokka croaks.
“With the chores,” Katara explains. “You and Aang almost never help, and the less said about Toph the better. Zuko’s the only one who helps me cook. He even offered to do the laundry.”
And yeah, Sokka had known Zuko was trying to wiggle his way into their good graces by taking over some of the chores, but really? “That’s it?”
“Well, it’s not like we all want to spend our time staring at him while he practices swords,” Katara says, tartly.
Sokka groans and throws himself backward to lie down on the ground. Leave it to Katara to find doing chores attractive. Come to think of it, she’s always liked when Aang is trying to help people, even if it stops them from fighting the Fire Lord. Maybe she just likes it when people are kind.
Not that the jerkbender is kind. But well. She’s right that he’s the only one that helps with the chores.
Why is he like that? This all would have been so much easier if Zuko were as horrible as he used to be. Maybe if Zuko still had that stupid ponytail and talked about honor at all times of the day, Sokka wouldn’t have this stupid crush and he wouldn’t have to watch his little sister blush at that same crush.
This can’t get any worse.
…
Sokka was wrong. It can get worse.
“You didn’t tell me he practices bending without his shirt,” Suki says, eyes riveted on the plumes of fire throwing shadows against Zuko’s chest. He has muscles, because of course he does. They’re stupidly hot, and Zuko has no shame in showing them as his arm moves in an arc that trails flaming whips from the tips of his fingers. His eyes glitter in the firelight.
Sokka swallows. His mouth is very dry. “It didn’t come up.” More like he didn’t want to think about it. There are several reasons Sokka was happy to let Katara monitor all of Aang’s practices with Zuko after the realization hit him, and the shirtlessness is only one of them.
Zuko carefully shifts his feet, Aang copying him. His every movement is small but purposeful, in a way only the masters of the art can perform. When he brings his heel down against the ground, it splinters from the force.
Suki draws in a sharp breath. Sokka bites his lip so hard he can taste blood.
“Wow,” Suki breathes.
“Yeah,” Sokka agrees, because what else can he even do.
Apparently, having you and your sister crushing on the same guy is not the worst thing in the world. Having your girlfriend crushing on your crush is so much more awkward.
Zuko punches the air. Fire explodes outwards, the force of it controlled enough that it doesn’t even char the stones around him. The muscles on his back, slick with sweat and glistening under the sunlight, flex with his every movement.
“He’s good,” Suki says in admiration. “Fire is hard to control; he must have perfect fundamentals.”
Of course Zuko does. He has perfect swordsmanship and perfect bending and perfect fucking tea. It’s almost a relief that he’s so socially stunted. If he were charming on top of all of that, Sokka would simply expire on the spot.
“He’s gotten so much better since he burned Kiyoshi Island,” she adds, and Sokka latches onto it with desperation.
“Yeah— Kiyoshi Island,” he blabbers, waving his arms. “Aren’t you angry about that?”
Suki shrugs. She doesn’t look away from where Zuko is now turning towards Aang and patiently fixing his stance. “A little. But the damage was minimal despite the fires, and he’s helping now. I’m not going to look a gift ostrich horse in the mouth.”
And okay, it’s not like Sokka is still suspicious about Zuko, not after the Boiling Rock, but it would make him feel better if his girlfriend would maybe hold a bit of a grudge. Just a small one. Just enough to stop looking at Zuko with heat in her eyes.
Zuko, of course, chooses just this moment to demonstrate a flying kick to an awestruck Aang. A controlled firestorm whips up around him, and when it’s done, the leftover sparks make his face glow.
Suki reaches for Sokka’s hand and grips it hard. “Do you think he would kiss me if I asked?”
“Hey!” Sokka says, because he’s still her boyfriend. He understands completely, but come on.
“You can kiss him too if you want,” Suki says, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “Actually, if you do, can I watch?”
Just thinking about kissing Zuko while Suki watches makes Sokka’s brain come to a sudden halt. And then he thinks about Suki kissing Zuko while Sokka watches, and a pathetic sound comes out of his mouth, almost a whimper. His cheeks are feeling very hot.
“I—,” Sokka stutters. He can’t make his tongue cooperate, so he groans and buries his head into his hands. Suki seems to understand anyway, because she pets his hair gently. Sokka imagines that hand buried in Zuko’s hair and promptly feels like someone’s set his whole body on fire.
“I can’t take it anymore,” he whines without looking up. “He’s just so stupidly hot and competent and good with a sword. Did you know he teaches me how to fight with my space sword? It’s terrible.”
Suki hums. “Does he do it shirtless?”
“No!” Sokka wails.
Suki is quiet for a couple of moments. Sokka can’t tell where she’s looking at with his head buried in his hands, but at least she doesn’t stop petting his hair even if she’s probably ogling Zuko again.
He can’t even blame her. At least he knows she has good taste.
“When do you usually train?” Suki asks, very casually.
Sokka finally looks up, suspicious. Her eyes are wide and innocent. “Why?”
“Can I watch?” And then, because she’s utterly shameless, she says, “Do you think you could talk Zuko into taking off his shirt while he trains you? Actually, you should take off yours too. That will make it fair.”
Sokka, without answering, reburies his head into his hands. The mental image is too much. He’s going to combust.
Suki, unrepentant, laughs at him.
…
For the longest time, Sokka thinks Aang is completely immune to the Zuko Effect™. He doesn’t blush when Zuko manhandles him into correcting his stance. He doesn’t react to the sword, or the firebending, or the tea. He doesn’t even seem to register the shirtlessness, which everyone else agrees is downright bizarre. They can only conclude that Aang doesn’t find Zuko attractive at all and continue on with their lives.
And then, two years after the end of the war, Sokka catches sight of Aang standing statue-still at the entrance to the Fire Palace gardens.
He doesn’t think anything of it at first. Their whole group spends a lot of time in the gardens when they’re visiting Zuko, and maybe Aang is being uncharacteristically still because he caught sight of something interesting. Like a valley dove. Or a cicada beetle. Or even a random spirit wandering around. Who even knows with Aang.
“Hey, buddy,” Sokka greets him, approaching until he’s close enough to bump shoulders. “What’re you looking at?”
Aang squeaks.
Raising his eyebrows, Sokka takes a closer look at him. He’s blushing.
Following Aang’s gaze, Sokka notices Zuko sitting by the pond. That’s not anything strange. He’s dressed in full Fire Lord regalia, which is also normal these days, even though Sokka can feel his heart stuttering in his chest at the sight (red and gold really suit him, and the first time his hair got long enough to use hair ornaments, Sokka felt like he was being personally attacked). But it’s not like any of that would make Aang blush. He’s proven to be pretty impervious to Zuko’s lethal amount of hotness.
And then there is a quack, almost too low to hear over the distance. A turtleduck waddles up to Zuko and latches onto his sleeve, pulling. His sleeve, made of very expensive fabric and dyed with very expensive dyes.
Zuko smiles.
Sokka curses under his breath and reaches out to grab Aang’s shoulder in support. Nobody should go through this alone.
It gets worse, because of course it does. At the turtleduck’s urging, Zuko shifts sideways, and Sokka can finally see what had caught the animal’s attention. There are half a dozen little fuzzy ducklings tripping over themselves, cradled in the folds of Zuko’s robes. They waddle around and fall all over each other, and they’re so ridiculously cute that Sokka can’t look away.
Zuko gently cradles one of the ducklings and brings it closer to the mama turtleduck. It quacks again and nudges against his hand.
Aang makes a sound like a teakettle. Air wooshes out of his lungs in a gust strong enough to lift him off the ground.
The sound finally catches Zuko’s attention. He looks up, cradling another little duckling in his hands.
“Hey, guys,” he smiles, like this is all completely normal. Of course it is. Of course Zuko regularly dirties his very fancy robes to play with turtleducks.
“Hey,” Sokka greets him. He’s grown some immunity over the years. He can actually talk now.
“Do you want to join me?” Zuko asks. “We still have some time before the next meeting.”
Sokka looks at the turtleduck in Zuko’s hand. He looks at Aang, whose eyes are wide and cheeks very red. He wonders if he should be evil or if he should help a buddy out.
Then he remembers the first time he experienced this kind of crush and decides to help a buddy out. No need for Aang to suffer like Sokka did.
“Nah, we have to go,” Sokka says, gripping Aang’s shoulder to steer him inside the palace. “The two of us need to talk. Man to man.”
Zuko looks vaguely confused at being excluded. “I’m a man.”
“I know,” Sokka breathes out before he can stop himself, because Zuko had never grown out of practicing firebending shirtless. He does it every morning. Coincidentally, this is also the most popular time for the off-duty guards to do their own training in the practice grounds. Zuko still hasn’t figured out why. He just thinks everyone else rises with the sun like he does, even though most of the guards aren’t firebenders.
“So you can talk here,” Zuko offers generously. “There are turtleducks. They’re very calming.”
Aang makes another teakettle sound. Sokka needs to get him out of here.
“It’s about Katara,” Sokka blurts out. “I need to have a good talk with Aang about their latest trip to the Northern Water Tribe.”
Zuko, an older brother himself, nods knowingly and allows them to leave.
Aang is too out of it to protest, so Sokka drags him to the first out-of-the-way corridor he can find and places his hands on both of his shoulders. Aang’s gotten taller, but he still has some ways to grow, so Sokka needs to look down to meet his eyes.
“Okay, buddy,” Sokka says. “Listen to me. This is completely normal, no need to worry. Just take a deep breath and calm down.”
Aang takes a deep breath. Air wooshes into his lungs, and his robes flutter in the breeze.
“The turtleducks,” he says, wide-eyed.
“Yeah,” Sokka agrees in deep understanding. “I totally get you.”
“I don’t—,” Aang stutters. “I love Katara!”
Oh, right. That. Sokka’s kind of surprised that Aang has spent years in their company and still hasn’t noticed that everyone in their friend group aside from Toph has a giant crush on Zuko. At first, Sokka didn’t tell him because it was kind of awkward and also very obvious, but the more time passed, the stranger it would have been to bring it up.
Well, the cat is out of the bag. Guess Sokka will have to take one for the team.
“Don’t worry,” Sokka assures him. “She won’t mind.”
“But I can’t like somebody else!” Aang argues. “Katara is my girlfriend!”
“Okay, listen, when I said this is normal? The Zuko thing? I really meant it. This is completely normal. Everybody goes through it, it’s a rite of passage. Honestly, it’s kind of strange that it didn't happen sooner.”
“Everybody?” Aang asks.
“Yes,” Sokka sighs, suddenly very tired. “Everybody.”
“And Katara won’t mind?” Bless him, he still looks worried. He’s a good kid, Aang. Just the kind of boyfriend Sokka’s sister needs.
“She definitely won’t,” Sokka says. Katara’s crush had waned over the years, but it seems she finds it really hard to remain indifferent when Zuko just keeps being stupidly kind even when it would have been politically expedient to be less soft. “You can ask her yourself.”
“I definitely will,” Aang says. And then Sokka’s previous words seem to register. “Wait, you said everybody? Even you?”
Sokka groans.
…
Toph, unlike everyone else, has never developed a crush on Zuko. She seems to have decided that, since Azula obviously doesn’t know how good she has it, Zuko is free real estate and her older brother now. Zuko, in return, doesn’t mind her clinging onto him and demanding life-changing field trips and making a mess out of his palace, so Sokka supposes that he also sees her as a less destructive and less murderous little sister. Which, fair. It’s not often that Toph can be described as less destructive compared to anyone else, so maybe it’s just as well that she adopted Zuko as her older sibling and not somebody who would be alarmed at the lengths (and depths) she would go to just to get her way.
Toph also, unlike everyone else, seems to be having the time of her life following the whole drama. Sokka’s awkwardness brings her no end of amusement, and she doesn’t even try to hide it.
She’s also spent years keeping it quiet from Zuko. It’s so uncharacteristic of her that Sokka’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop.
It happens on a random evening in Ba Sing Se, where the whole group has gathered in Jasmine Dragon. Uncle closed the shop hours ago, leaving them alone with snacks and several bottles of wine. Aang is the one who proposes they try out drinking games, but Katara is the one who fires off the first shot by saying ‘never have I ever wanted to kiss Sokka’ making both Toph and Suki drink.
Zuko doesn’t drink. Not that Sokka notices.
But that’s what starts it, in the end. Toph looks angry, though her crush on Sokka was very obvious and very over. She’d made sure to tell Sokka that, at length.
“Fine,” she says, stomping her foot on the ground, making it tremble. Sokka rescues his wine cup before it can spill over. “If you want to play that way.”
Sokka can feel dread rising in his throat. He exchanges wide-eyed looks with Aang, who is sitting trapped between Toph and Katara. At least Sokka has Suki and Zuko on either side of him, even though that is a different torture entirely.
“Never have I ever—” Toph starts, grinning evilly. At first, Sokka doesn’t know what she intends to do, but then she, very slowly, turns her head in Katara’s direction, then Aang’s, and Sokka’s, and Suki’s. There is only one comparably embarrassing secret that all four of them share.
“Wait, don’t—” Sokka interrupts, lurching forward.
“—had a crush on Zuko.”
There is a long moment of silence. And then Zuko laughs. “I don’t think anyone here has ever…”
His voice trails off as the rest of them slowly pick up their cups and take a swig. Sokka refuses to meet anyone’s eyes, even though Suki reaches over to squeeze his hand. Toph’s grin widens to unholy proportions.
“Er…” Zuko says, awkward.
“Don’t worry about it,” Katara says, because she’s had the easiest time getting over him. “It was a long time ago.”
Sokka’s grip on Suki’s hand tightens. They’ve risen earlier than usual this morning just to watch Zuko practice with his sword. He’s only gotten better as the years have passed.
“Yeah,” Sokka clears his throat. “A very long time ago. We were just teenagers.”
“Aang is still a teenager,” Zuko points out.
Aang looks up, whistling. He’s blushing very obviously.
“Smaller teenagers,” Suki adds.
“But why?” Zuko asks, bewildered. When Sokka finally turns to look at him, he doesn’t look angry. He mostly looks awkward and confused. “I mean—” He motions pointedly toward his scar.
After a moment of silence, Aang speaks up. Apparently not even the sheer embarrassment of this moment is enough to stop him from defending his friends. “Because you’re great! You’re smart and kind and a good Fire Lord and a good friend, and I saw you once with the turtleducks, it was really cute, and I think it’s great how much you help Katara with cooking and Uncle with tea, and—”
Katara claps him hard on his back.
Sokka says, “Breathe, buddy.”
Aang takes a deep breath. When he breathes out, the candles flicker on a phantom breeze.
Zuko grips his wine cup tightly. The unscarred side of his face is red. “Oh,” he says. “That’s— that’s very nice.”
“Also, you’re hot,” Suki adds.
Zuko chokes.
“Is he really?” Toph squints in Zuko’s general direction. “I don’t see it.”
“He is!” Sokka protests, and then, to Toph, “Stop doing that!”
“I am?” Zuko asks.
“Yes, you are!” Sokka flings his arms up, half a decade of frustration bubbling up in this single instant. “Have you seen yourself?! You’re hot! You’re stupidly hot! You’re the hottest person in this room, and let me tell you, you have some stiff competition. My girlfriend is sitting at this table, and you’re still the hottest person here.” Suki nods in complete agreement. “You have abs! You have golden eyes! You practice firebending shirtless!” Breathing heavily, Sokka meets Zuko’s wide eyes. “The first time you trashed me with your sword, I nearly had a heart attack.”
Zuko opens his mouth. He closes it. He opens it again and says, “I just thought you were stupid.”
“Aarrgh!” Sokka says and thuds his forehead hard against the table, narrowly missing his wine cup.
Suki, being the perfect person that she is, refills the cup to the brim and slides it closer to him. Sokka lifts his head up just enough to chug it all down and then allows his face to meet the table once again.
“I miss cactus juice,” he mumbles. At least it would make him forget this whole evening ever happened.
“I don’t think you’re stupid now,” Zuko tries tentatively.
Sokka chuckles faintly into the wooden surface. “Thanks, buddy.”
“...Well, this was very embarrassing for you,” Toph concludes eventually, because she’s the worst. “I’ll take it. Who’s next?”
Sokka doesn’t even wait for Suki to start her turn before he’s chugging another cup of wine. He needs it.
The next day he wakes up with a headache, a hangover, and a dawning realization that he still kind of wants to watch Zuko practice firebending shirtless.
“Why is he so hot?” Sokka whispers in despair.
He will never be free of this.