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“I hate him,” Sokka spat.
Katara didn’t even look up, her hands moving in a rhythmic, practiced motion as she rolled the silverware into napkins. “That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”
“No! Because he’s the worst,” Sokka insisted, throwing his arms up in exasperation.
His sister finally looked at him, giving a slow, theatrical roll of her eyes that made Sokka want to scream.
He envied her at that moment. Katara only had an hour left of her shift, as did the rest of the kitchen staff. That left Sokka as the sole survivor forced to close the restaurant with him.
“Why is it always me who has to suffer?” Sokka groaned, leaning heavily against the counter. “Management clearly has something against me.”
“Firstly, the schedule rotates, so you aren’t ‘always’ the one suffering,” Katara countered, her voice flat. “And secondly, maybe management has something against you because you treat your sidework like it’s an optional suggestion?”
Sokka bristled, pointing a finger at her. “Well, management wouldn’t even know about that if you weren’t such a fucking tattletale!”
With a huff of indignation, Sokka stormed toward the back.
He had spent the last ten minutes getting distracted, mostly by his own complaining, when he was supposed to be grabbing ranch for table four.
He hurried into the prep area, his movements frantic as he poured the dressing into a small plastic ramekin. He was pivoting on his heel, rushing back toward the dining floor, when he rounded the corner at full speed and slammed chest-first into a solid wall of a person.
The impact was jarring. The few plates in the other person's arms shifted and then plummeted, hitting the floor with a deafening, ceramic crash that echoed through the hallway.
Sokka didn’t even need to look up to know who the fucker was. When he finally did, he found a pair of sharp, golden eyes staring back at him, flashing with an equal amount of irritation.
“Fucking typical,” Zuko mumbled under his breath.
Sokka felt a surge of genuine heat in his chest. He just wanted to punch him.
He looked down to see a dollop of ranch dressing smeared across the front of his black work shirt. He grabbed the dish towel hanging from his apron and began scrubbing at the stain with aggressive, useless motions.
“Are you blind, Zuko?” he spat.
Zuko stiffened, his expression hardening as he crouched down to begin gathering the shards of broken porcelain. “Oh, low blow, Sokka,” he replied, his voice low and biting. “You know I’m actually blind in one eye.”
Sokka just rolled his eyes and pushed past him, intentionally clipping Zuko’s shoulder with his leg.
Why is he always such a dick? Sokka wondered, the frustration simmering in his gut.
He made it all the way back to the station where Katara was finishing up, his mouth opening to launch into yet another rant about Zuko’s personality flaws, when he froze.
He looked down at his empty hand.
He still needed to get fucking ranch for table four.
Sokka felt a wave of genuine nausea. He still had four hours left on his shift and an hour and a half of those would be spent in Zuko's suffocating company.
The last table finally left four minutes after closing.
Sokka power-walked to the front entrance and flipped the lock with more force than necessary. There was no way in hell he was about to waste another minute arguing with people who somehow thought closed was a suggestion.
Zuko was... somewhere.
Sokka wasn't actually sure where, but he didn't particularly care.
As long as the asshole did his share of the closing duties so they could get out of there as quickly as possible, he was free to haunt whatever corner of the restaurant he wanted.
Sokka threw the chairs onto the tables and grabbed a broom, working his way across the dining room. Once the floors were swept, he counted down the register.
By the time he finished, Zuko had emerged from the back.
He'd moved behind the bar, wiping down the counters before carrying clean glasses from the dish station and hanging them neatly back on the overhead racks.
Sokka watched him out of the corner of his eye.
Not because he wanted to.
Just... making sure he wasn't screwing anything up.
Zuko wore the same uniform as everyone else. A black polo embroidered with the restaurant's logo, black pants, and one of those ridiculously expensive leather aprons management insisted made the place look ‘upscale’.
The restaurant was the kind of trendy bistro that thought charging sixteen dollars for a cocktail was perfectly reasonable because the servers wore real leather aprons.
Sokka moved on to the trash next.
He hauled the bulging garbage bags to the back entrance before dragging them outside one by one. Reaching for the old brick they used to prop the back door open, he fumbled his grip.
The brick slipped from his fingers.
Sokka watched in horrified slow motion as the heavy metal door swung shut.
"...Fuck."
He stood there for a long second, staring at the closed door as if it might feel guilty enough to unlock itself.
It didn't.
"God fucking damn it."
With a defeated groan, Sokka made the long walk around to the front of the restaurant.
Through the glass, he spotted Zuko behind the counter at the far end of the dining room, busy doing... something. Sokka knocked sharply against the window.
Nothing.
He knocked again, harder this time.
Still nothing.
"Fuuuck..." Sokka muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "His bad ear's turned toward me."
Could tonight get any worse?
A flash of lightning split the sky.
Less than five seconds later, the first cold raindrop landed on the top of Sokka's head.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
By the time Zuko finally looked up, noticed Sokka frantically waving through the glass, and made his way over to unlock the front door, Sokka was wet.
"What are you doing?" Zuko asked, looking genuinely confused.
Sokka stared at him.
"Oh, you know. Just felt like taking a quick shower."
Zuko gave him a look that suggested Sokka was the dumbest person he'd ever met.
"I got locked out," Sokka said, gesturing wildly toward the front windows. "And someone didn't hear me knocking on the glass."
Zuko crossed his arms over his chest, his expression unimpressed.
Was he flexing his biceps on purpose?
"Keeping Sokka safe isn't on my list of closing responsibilities."
"Funny."
"It doesn't matter," Zuko said. "I think we're done. Go grab your stuff so I can set the alarm."
They headed to the break room in silence and emptied their lockers before making their way out the back entrance.
Waiting beside the door was the restaurant's collection of shared umbrellas.
Sokka immediately snatched the last one.
"Are you seriously just going to take the last umbrella?" Zuko asked.
"You snooze, you lose."
"Oh, very mature."
Sokka only shrugged.
"I know for a fact you live right around the corner," Zuko continued, throwing his hands up. "And" he gestured at Sokka's dripping clothes "you're already soaked. Just let me have the umbrella."
"No way."
"Don't be a dick."
"You don't be a dick."
Sokka watched with no small amount of satisfaction as frustration spread across Zuko's face. His jaw clenched, and a faint flush crept into his cheeks.
"You are-" Zuko jabbed a finger into Sokka's chest. "The most arrogant, self-centered, rudest person I've ever met!"
Each insult came with another sharp poke.
"Me?!" Sokka barked.
Zuko let out a frustrated groan and actually stomped his foot against the pavement.
"Yes, you! You drive me insane!"
"Oh, well, right back at ya, sweetheart," Sokka shot back.
"Oh my-" Zuko dragged a hand down his face. "Just give me the umbrella."
"No."
"What's your problem, Sokka?"
"I don't have a problem! What's your problem?"
"Ugh!"
Zuko grabbed for the umbrella, but Sokka yanked it out of reach.
"You!" Zuko snapped. "You are my problem."
"Oh, really?" Sokka scoffed. He wanted to punch the smug look right off Zuko's face.
"Yeah."
"Then are you going to do something about it, or just whine like a little bitch?"
Something flickered in Zuko's eyes.
Before Sokka could react, Zuko fisted a hand in the front of his shirt and yanked him forward.
Sokka's breath caught.
His eyes squeezed shut as he instinctively braced for the punch.
It never came.
Instead, his back slammed against the brick wall behind him, and a pair of soft, warm lips crashed against his.
Zuko groaned into the kiss, his mouth pressing hungrily against Sokka's, demanding a response.
Sokka froze for a heartbeat, shocked by the sudden electricity surging through him.
A low sound escaped Sokka's throat, and he leaned into the heat, his eyes fluttering shut as he began to kiss back, his lips parting to invite Zuko deeper.
Just as Sokka started to melt, his fingers twitching to reach out and grab Zuko’s shirt, Zuko ripped himself away.
The sudden absence of heat was jarring.
Sokka blinked, his lips still tingling, to find Zuko staring at him with wide, panicked eyes.
"Fuck," Zuko breathed, the word barely a whisper against the sound of the rain.
He stepped back abruptly, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Sorry," he blurted out, his voice cracking.
Without another word, Zuko turned on his heel and bolted, disappearing into the curtain of rain.
Sokka remained pinned against the wall, frozen in place. He stood there clutching his bag in one hand and the umbrella in the other, staring at the empty space where Zuko had been.
Sokka showed up to work like a zombie the next day, having barely slept.
"Morning, Sokka!" Aang beamed as he walked through the door. His smile faltered for only a second. "Wow... you look like shit."
Sokka scoffed.
"Yeah, I feel like it too. Got caught in the rain last night. I think it's finally catching up to me."
Aang lounged in one of the break room chairs, his feet propped up on the table as he tapped away at some game on his phone.
"Are you closing tonight?" he asked without looking up.
"Nope. I paid my dues yesterday."
Aang hummed in acknowledgment and returned his full attention to the game.
Sokka tied on his apron and headed out onto the floor.
He chatted with a few of the kitchen staff while helping get the restaurant ready for lunch, but every time someone walked past him, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
Damn.
He should've checked the schedule.
Was Zuko working today?
And if he was...
What the hell was Sokka supposed to say to him?
He'd spent nearly the entire night staring at his ceiling, trying to figure out what that kiss had meant.
Because he and Zuko hated each other.
Right?
Could you hate-kiss someone?
...Was hate-kissing even a thing?
God, his head hurt.
He needed to find Katara.
And find Katara he did.
She was in the middle of the dining room, crouched beside Zuko as the two of them cleaned up what looked like a dropped basket of fries and a puddle of ketchup.
Sokka scrunched up his nose and immediately turned back to his own work.
He'd catch her later.
He avoided Zuko like the plague, and to his immense relief, it seemed Zuko was doing exactly the same thing.
After the lunch rush had finally died down, Sokka grabbed Katara by the wrist and dragged her into the staff restroom, locking the door behind them.
"I refuse to entertain you while you take a shit," Katara declared.
Sokka stared at her.
"Why would that be what I wanted to do in here?" he asked, sounding genuinely offended.
"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "Because you're gross."
"Wow. Really feeling the sisterly love."
"What do you want?"
Sokka suddenly wasn't sure how to say it.
"...Something happened yesterday."
Katara raised an eyebrow.
"With Zuko."
"Oh?" she said, folding her arms.
"Did you two get into another fight? He's been even more on edge than usual today. I swear he's dropped, like, five different things already." She shook her head.
Sokka squeezed his eyes shut.
"We kissed."
"...Okay."
His eyes flew open.
Katara's expression hadn't changed in the slightest. She still looked mildly annoyed, as though he'd interrupted something important to tell her they'd run out of ketchup.
"Why aren't you having a reaction?" he demanded.
"I mean..." She shrugged. "I kind of thought you liked him."
Sokka blinked.
"What?"
"You never talk about anything else."
"Because he's annoying!"
"Annoying enough to kiss?"
"Well..." Sokka scowled. "Technically, he kissed me."
"And what did you do?"
"I mostly just... froze."
"And then?"
"He apologized and left."
Katara stared at him for a long moment.
"You're an idiot."
"Hey!" Sokka protested, flicking her forehead.
She swatted his hand away.
"What do I do?" he asked.
"Did you like it?"
"I..." Sokka hesitated. "I think so?"
Katara sighed.
"You're hopeless."
"I know that already. That's why I'm asking you."
She rolled her eyes.
"Just talk to him."
"Wha-Katara!"
But she'd already unlocked the door and slipped back out into the hallway, leaving Sokka alone with the worst advice she'd ever given him.
Just talk to him.
As if it were that easy.
Sokka didn't talk to Zuko right away. He did, however, watch him.
And what a disaster Zuko had become.
Now, Sokka wasn't exactly in the habit of praising anyone besides himself, but normally Zuko was good at his job.
Today, though, he was a complete mess.
And Sokka couldn't stand to watch it. As much as he'd hate to admit it, Zuko took a lot of pride in his work. Seeing him fumble orders, drop glasses, and lose track of tickets all afternoon felt wrong.
Eventually, Sokka found him by himself in the beverage station, replacing one of the soda syrup flasks beneath the counter.
Remembering Zuko's bad ear, Sokka approached from his good side.
"Did you get home okay last night?"
Zuko nearly jumped out of his skin. His head snapped toward Sokka, golden eyes wide with surprise.
"What?"
"I mean..." Sokka rubbed the back of his neck. "I got caught in the rain, and I think I'm coming down with something. Just wondering if you're feeling okay."
For a moment, Zuko glanced around as if checking whether Sokka was actually talking to him.
Then he looked back.
"I think I'm okay."
"That's good."
The silence stretched between them.
Sokka watched as Zuko slid the empty syrup flask off the shelf and disconnected the line from the top. He wrestled the full flask into place before trying to haul it upright.
It barely budged.
A faint blush had crept all the way up to the tips of Zuko's ears.
Without thinking, Sokka stepped forward.
"Here."
Their hands brushed as Sokka took hold of the flask's handles.
With one smooth motion, he lifted it onto the shelf and locked it into place.
"There you go."
Zuko blinked at him.
"...Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Zuko nodded once before turning on his heel and making a hasty retreat.
Sokka watched him go, feeling strangely disappointed.
To his surprise, though, Zuko didn't make a single mistake for the rest of the shift.
Maybe talking to him had actually helped.
Two hours before closing, Sokka's shift was finally coming to an end, and he was more than ready to go home.
As he was grabbing his backpack from his locker, he overheard Aang talking to one of the managers.
"I have practice. I can't, I'm sorry," Aang said.
"Yeah, alright. I understand, kid. Thanks anyway."
The manager walked off.
Sokka turned to Aang.
"What was that about?"
"Jet didn't show up for his shift." Aang sighed. "Ben wanted me to stay and help close."
"What an asshole."
"Tell me about it."
"But one person can close alone, right?"
Aang nodded.
"Yeah. It'll take longer, but Zuko will manage."
Sokka blinked.
"Zuko's closing?"
Aang nodded again.
Before he'd even realized what he was doing, Sokka had already turned on his heel and made a beeline for the office.
"I can help close."
The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to reconsider them.
Zuko kept his head down for the rest of the closing shift, barely saying a word to Sokka.
Not that Sokka was doing much better.
By the time they finished, rain was still hammering against the roof.
Sokka headed for the back exit while Zuko stayed behind to do the alarm.
Outside, the alley was drenched.
Without a word, Sokka grabbed the restaurant's last shared umbrella and stepped into the rain.
He opened it, then leaned against the brick wall beside the back door, waiting.
A minute later, the door swung open.
Zuko stepped out, his backpack slung over one shoulder.
His eyes landed on the umbrella in Sokka's hand.
Then on Sokka.
A familiar look of annoyance crossed his face. He scoffed.
Sokka couldn't help smiling.
Without saying a word, he held the umbrella out toward Zuko.
Zuko stared at him.
Sokka gave the umbrella a small shake.
"Come on."
Zuko didn't move.
"I know," Sokka said quietly. "I was being a dick."
Rain continued to pour between them.
Sokka noticed droplets already clinging to Zuko's hair, running down the side of his face and soaking into the collar of his shirt.
With a small sigh, he stepped closer, angling the umbrella so it sheltered them both.
Zuko's jaw tightened.
"I don't want... whatever this is."
Sokka frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Zuko gestured between them.
"This."
His voice was flat.
"This pity thing."
Sokka blinked.
"...Pity?"
"You suddenly being nice to me because you feel bad."
"What?" Sokka said, genuinely baffled. "Zuko, that's not-"
"I don't need your pity."
Before Sokka could say another word, Zuko stepped back out into the rain and turned away.
"Oh, come on."
Sokka hurried after him, umbrella in hand.
"Zuko!"
"Leave me alone."
"I don't pity you!"
Zuko spun around.
"Oh, really?" he snapped. "So I'm supposed to believe your hatred for me disappeared the second you found out I had a one-sided crush on you?"
Sokka caught up and grabbed his arm before he could walk away again.
"No!"
Zuko tried to pull free, but Sokka held on.
"No! I'm being nice to you because I'm hoping it'll make you kiss me again!" He groaned in frustration
His voice echoed through the rain-soaked alley.
"Or would you rather me be a fucking asshole?"
The rain drummed steadily against the umbrella.
Zuko just stared at him.
Sokka dragged a hand down his face with a groan.
"I am so unbelievably bad at this."
Zuko didn't flinch.
He didn't even blink.
He just stood there, water dripping from the tip of his nose, his golden eyes locked onto Sokka’s.
The tension snapped.
Sokka didn't give himself time to think. He lunged forward, grabbing the collar of Zuko’s damp shirt, slamming him backward against the door.
The impact made a dull thud, but Zuko didn't fight it. Instead, he let out a sharp gasp, his eyes widening for a split second before Sokka crashed their lips together.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a collision.
Sokka groaned into Zuko's mouth, his tongue forcing its way past Zuko's lips with a demanding aggression. He wanted to consume him, to erase every argument and every scar with the sheer force of his mouth.
Zuko reacted instantly, his hands flying up to grip Sokka’s waist, pulling him flush against his body.
The heat radiating off Zuko was staggering, a stark contrast to the freezing rain, and Sokka leaned into it, craving that warmth.
Zuko began to kiss back with equal ferocity, his tongue tangling with Sokka’s in a wet, sloppy battle for dominance.
He tasted of salt and smoke, and Sokka wanted more.
Sokka’s hands moved from Zuko’s collar to his hair, fingers digging into the dark strands and pulling Zuko’s head back to gain a better angle.
Sokka pulled back just a few inches, his chest heaving in sync with Zuko’s.
He stared at the boy, his gaze sweeping over Zuko’s wrecked expression.
Zuko’s face was a deep, burning flush, his golden eyes hazy with a mixture of shock and desperate longing. His lips were swollen and glistening, parted and wet from the friction of their mouths, a thin string of saliva connecting them.
The sight of Zuko, who usually was so poised, so rigid and prickly, looking completely undone sent a surge of heat straight to Sokka's dick.
Sokka let out a low, guttural groan, the sound vibrating in his throat.
He didn't give Zuko a chance to speak or regain his composure before he lunged again, attacking Zuko’s mouth once more.
As their lips crashed together, Sokka shifted his weight, driving his knee upward and shoving his leg firmly between Zuko’s thighs. He pressed his crotch hard against Zuko's hip, letting the other man feel the rigid length of his cock straining against his work pants.
Zuko let out a loud, broken moan into the kiss, his body completely melting against the cold metal of the back door.
For months the bickering and the glares had defined their relationship, now everything Sokka thought he knew was flipped upside down.
Zuko’s hands flew up, gripping Sokka’s shoulders and then sliding up to tangle desperately in his hair, pulling him closer as if he couldn't get enough of the contact.
They stayed like that for several long minutes, lost in a frantic, messy make-out session.
Every time Zuko whimpered, Sokka pressed his leg harder into Zuko's crotch, grinding slowly, making Zuko gasp for air.
The alleyway was silent except for the wet sounds of their kissing, the heavy, ragged rhythm of their breathing and the rain slamming against concrete.
Slowly, Sokka began to pull away, though he kept his forehead pressed against Zuko's.
Sokka looked into Zuko's blown-out pupils, his voice husky and thick with lust.
"I think I have to-" Sokka paused, leaning in to press a soft and gentle kiss to Zuko's bruised lips. "I think I have to take you back to my place."
They barely made it inside Sokka's small studio before their hands were everywhere.
Sokka’s fingers dug into Zuko’s waist, pulling him flush against his body, while Zuko’s hands scrambled at the buttons of Sokka’s shirt.
Their lips remained locked, the kiss desperate and hungry.
Sokka groaned into Zuko's mouth, his tongue sweeping deep inside to claim every inch of him.
He reached down, grabbing the hem of Zuko's shirt and yanking it upward. Zuko cooperated eagerly, lifting his arms and twisting out of the fabric in one fluid motion, tossing it blindly onto the floor.
Sokka didn't waste a second before he stripped off his own shirt, his chest heaving, the muscles of his torso tight with anticipation.
As they continued to devour each other, their hands moved lower.
Sokka fumbled with the belt of Zuko's trousers, his fingers shaking.
Zuko was equally frantic, his nails digging into Sokka's hips as he helped shove the heavy fabric down.
Both boys kicked their pants and underwear away in a chaotic heap, their skin finally meeting.
The feeling of Zuko’s bare thighs rubbing against his own sent a jolt of electricity through Sokka. He could feel Zuko’s cock, already hard, pressing firmly against his own. The friction was agonising but perfect.
Sokka’s breath hitched, a low growl vibrating in his chest.
He wanted Zuko on his bed. He wanted to see him sprawled out, vulnerable and open, under him.
With a sudden, powerful surge, Sokka gripped Zuko’s shoulders and shoved him backward.
Zuko let out a surprised gasp that was immediately swallowed by Sokka’s mouth as he followed him.
They stumbled back together until the back of Zuko's knees hit the edge of the mattress.
Zuko fell back onto the sheets with a heavy thud, his eyes wide and wet, his chest heaving.
Sokka gave him a moment to recover before he lunged forward, pinning Zuko down, his weight crushing the other man into the bed.
"Fuck," Sokka rasped, his voice a guttural wreck.
He crashed his lips back onto Zuko's, his hand sliding down to grip Zuko's hard length, squeezing it firmly.
Zuko arched his back, a loud moan escaping him as he wrapped his legs around Sokka's waist.
Sokka gripped Zuko’s hips, his fingers digging into the pale skin, and with a firm tug, he flipped Zuko on top of him.
He guided Zuko’s ass directly over his face, forcing him to sit right on down.
The sudden proximity made Zuko let out a strangled cry, his hands frantically searching for purchase on the sheets as he balanced himself over Sokka.
The scent of Zukos musk hit Sokka like a wave.
He didn't hesitate.
He pressed his face flush against Zuko's cock, his tongue darting out to lick a long, wet stripe from the base of Zuko's cock all the way up to the leaking tip.
Zuko shrieked, his hips jerking violently. "Sokka-!"
"You taste so fucking good, Zuko," Sokka mumbled against his skin.
He shifted his jaw, opening wide to take the entire head of Zuko's cock into his mouth.
Sokka began to bob his head, sliding his mouth down the length of the shaft and then swirling his tongue around the rim of the head.
He was relentless, using his lips to grip tight while his tongue flicked rhythmically against the sensitive underside.
Between sucks, Sokka looked up, his eyes dark and blown out, staring at the way Zuko was trembling above him.
"Look at you," Sokka praised, his voice a low, guttural rumble. "You're so hard for me. You've wanted this so bad, haven't you? You're such a beautiful, needy mess, Zuko."
"Please... Sokka, pleas-" Zuko whimpered, his voice breaking.
Sokka responded by increasing his rhythm.
He used his hands to spread Zuko's cheeks, exposing the tight rim of his hole.
He pulled off of Zuko's cock with a wet, slurping sound, before he pressed his nose and tongue against Zuko's entrance, teasing the hole with quick, sharp licks.
Sokka didn't slow down, his tongue driving deep and invasive into Zuko’s tight hole.
He relished the feeling of the rim twitching and then finally yielding, stretching open to accommodate the wet muscle of his tongue.
Once the opening was slick and relaxed, Sokka slid one finger inside, feeling the hot, pulsing walls clench around him. He didn't stop there, pushing a second finger in, stretching Zuko wider as he continued to lick and suck at the sensitive skin.
Zuko let out a choked moan, his hips shuddering against Sokka's face.
With a sudden movement, Sokka gripped Zuko's hips and pulled him off.
He guided Zuko back down, pressing him flat against his chest.
They lay there for a moment, chests heaving in unison, both of them dripping thick, clear precum that smeared between their bodies as they breathed heavily, the air thick with the scent of sex.
"Not one-sided, I think," Sokka said.
"What?" Zuko asked, still dazed.
"I don't think this crush is one-sided."
Sokka smiled.
Sokka let Zuko linger on his chest for a moment.
But as Zuko’s breathing began to level out, Sokka felt his own cock throbbing.
He shifted, rolling Zuko over and pinning him back against the sheets, his eyes scanning Zuko’s wrecked, blissful expression.
"Is this okay?" Sokka asked, his voice raw.
Zuko nodded sheepishly.
Sokka reached for the nightstand, grabbing a condom and ripping the foil open with his teeth. He rolled the latex over his hard, leaking cock.
He moved back down Zuko's body, his hands sliding under Zuko's thighs to hoist his hips high into the air.
Sokka reached for a bottle of lube, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers. He looked up at Zuko, who was watching him with wide, watery eyes, his chest still heaving.
"Relax for me, Zuko.” Sokka whispered.
Sokka pressed a slick finger into Zuko's tight entrance.
Zuko gasped, his hips twitching instinctively.
"You're so tight," Sokka groaned, his voice thick. "So fucking perfect."
“Sokka-” Zuko pleaded desperately.
Once he felt Zuko was sufficiently loosened and dripping with lube, Sokka gripped Zuko's waist and flipped him over. He pushed Zuko forward, helping him onto his hands and knees.
Zuko’s ass was arched high, his spine curved, presenting himself completely.
Sokka knelt behind him, the sight of Zuko’s flushed skin and trembling thighs driving him insane.
Why had he never known he could have Zuko like this?
He lined himself up, the head of his cock pressing against Zuko's opening.
With one careful shove, Sokka buried himself deep inside.
Zuko let out a loud, piercing cry, his fingers digging into the mattress as he felt Sokka fill him completely.
Sokka didn't give him much time to adjust.
He began to pump into him, his hips slamming against Zuko's ass with a wet, slapping sound. Each thrust was deep and punishing, hitting Zuko's prostate. Sokka reached forward, gripping Zuko's hair to pull his head back, forcing Zuko to look at him over his shoulder.
"You feel so good," Sokka hissed, his breath hot against Zuko's ear.
Zuko was incoherent, his voice reduced to broken moans and whimpers.
He pushed back against Sokka, his own cock rubbing against the sheets with every thrust.
Sokka's movements became frantic, his thrusts shorter and faster, driving Zuko closer and closer to the edge.
"I'm... I'm gonna-!" Zuko shrieked.
"Me too!" Sokka cried, his own climax crashing over him like a tidal wave.
Sokka delivered one final, deepest thrust, pinning Zuko's chest flat against the bed as he came.
They stayed close for several long seconds, both of them trembling, their hearts gradually settling from the frantic rhythm.
Slowly, Sokka slid out of him with a wet pop and collapsed sideways.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then Sokka leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss to Zuko's temple.
"I don't know what kind of spell you've got me under," he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips, "but I'm pretty sure I've got a crush on you too."
Zuko's tired smile grew.
"I'm kind of glad you stole the last umbrella."