Work Text:
After spending nearly the entirety of his Friday in front of his computer, Sokka wondered, not for the first time in his life, why he decided majoring in engineering was a good idea.
He groaned when his ancient laptop froze from the AutoCAD program once again, leaning back in his chair to stretch while he waited for it to recover. His eyes, strained from staring intensely at the screen for hours, drifted shut to the sound of its fans whirring loudly. A headache pinched between his brows.
When his phone vibrated twice from his bed, he reluctantly stood up to check it, deciding that a break was well-deserved. The relief he felt at being away from his computer disappeared when he read the texts he’d received.
wheat boy
ur coming over tonight right? u promised
🌵🍪🤪
“Fuck,” Sokka muttered. He had, indeed, promised Jet that he would at least stop by for a party that would kick off their spring break after an annoying amount of begging. Sokka finally caved, but forgot all about it.
He stared down at his ratty, stained sweatpants, then turned his focus over to the laptop waiting on his desk. It was surprisingly menacing for an inanimate object. But he’d been working all day, and Jet would never let him live it down if he didn’t show up.
Sokka shut his laptop with a vindictive snap, and picked out his outfit for the night.
By the time Sokka arrived at the house, the party was in full swing. He searched for a familiar face, but it was impossible to see anyone clearly in the low light of the room, made worse by the smokey haze in the air.
Jet rented the four bedroom house with Smellerbee, Longshot, Haru, and Zuko. It was definitely what one would call a “fixer-upper,” though they’d made it warm and welcoming despite its faults. All of the bedrooms were on the second floor, leaving the open first floor as a designated party space. The kitchen was toward the back of the house. As Sokka made his way there at the behest of his empty stomach, a hand on his shoulder stopped him, and he turned to see a tipsy Jet.
“Hey, you made it!” he yelled over the music.
“Only because you would be an asshole if I didn’t come.”
“What?” Jet hollered, ripping the lollipop he was sucking on out of his mouth as he did so. Sokka winced at the loud volume of his voice.
“Never mind! Where’s Zuko?”
Jet shrugged. “Said he had some mid-term paper to work on.”
Sokka frowned. Half the reason he agreed to come over was because he’d counted on Zuko being there.
“Wow. You’ve really got that kicked-puppy-look down pat,” Jet said with a knowing grin.
He groaned. “Shut up. You’re so annoying.”
Before Jet could retort, Haru was swaying into his space with a drink in hand and threw an arm around his shoulders. Jet’s cheeks instantly darkened. “C’mon, we’re teaming up for beer pong. I need you to help me beat Suki.”
“M’kay,” Jet said. He wasn’t being very subtle about the way his eyes roamed over Haru’s face, only to stop at his lips as they wrapped around the mouth of the beer bottle he was holding.
Sokka smothered a laugh behind his hand. Jet snapped out of it to glare at him.
“You wanna join, Sokka?” Haru asked, tipping the neck of the bottle towards him.
“Nah, I need to eat. You two have fun though.”
He shook his head at them as Haru dragged Jet to a different corner of the house. Ever since they started living together, Jet developed a massive crush on Haru, but had yet to make a move. Sokka had a bet going with Zuko, Suki, and Longshot with a lot of money in the pot for when they finally got together. Smellerbee didn’t want to be involved, but after being pestered about when they thought it would happen, had only replied with a cryptic soon. It was a wonder that it hadn’t happened yet, considering how obvious Jet was. But Haru was completely oblivious.
Sokka cringed inwardly as he wondered if that’s how it was with him and Zuko. It wasn’t exactly a secret that he loved his best friend, but he tried hard to keep it to himself. And it must have worked well enough for Zuko, because he’d never said anything. For their friends? Not so much. For all he knew, there was a betting pool going for them, too, since pretty much everyone else had noticed how he felt.
Man, he needed a drink.
The kitchen was empty save for a few people. Sokka cracked open a beer and practically inhaled a slice of lukewarm pizza and a handful of potato chips. Before he went back into the crowd, he grabbed a cookie from a tray on the counter. When he took a bite, his eyes widened. Something about its cloyingly sweet, tangy flavor was familiar, but he was too busy finishing the first one off and grabbing two more to remember why.
He made his way through the throngs of people to where Jet and Haru had gone, finishing his second cookie as he went. But something felt off as he walked; the lights began to blur more and more every minute, and the music was pulsing distantly in his ears, muffled by the sound of his quickening heartbeat.
Confused, he stopped to lean against a wall. There was no way he was drunk already; he’d barely had any of his beer. Maybe he was sick? Or he hadn’t eaten enough?
He forced himself off the wall and managed to keep his feet steady until he reached the rowdy game of beer pong. If he just shook it off, he would be fine.
Suki nailed a perfect shot into one of the cups on the opposite side of the table. Haru’s loud complaint sounded far away. She noticed Sokka when she turned to give Jin a high-five, eyes bright with excitement, but it fell from her face when she actually got a good look at him.
“Whoa, are you okay?”
Apparently, he was much worse at hiding things than he thought.
He smiled weakly at her. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Game forgotten, Suki pushed past the people surrounding her to reach his side. “You don’t look fine.”
This time, he couldn’t respond, because one Suki had become two. He blinked slowly in hopes that his vision would stop swimming.
Suddenly, Jet was in front of him with wide eyes, clearly upset about something. It took more effort than it should have to focus on his irritated voice.
“-okka, why do you have that!” he snapped, snatching the cookie out of his hand.
“Hey!” Sokka yelped, “I was gonna eat it!” He tried to swipe the cookie back, but his movements were slow and clumsy. Jet easily held it out of reach, looking pissed off and panicked at the same time.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you not remember what happened last time?”
“What are you talking about? Last time, what?”
Jet pressed a palm to his forehead. Absently, Sokka noted that he’d exchanged the lollipop from earlier for a joint, burning slowly between his lips.
“Sokka. These are cactus juice cookies,” Jet said, slowly.
Sokka froze. “They’re what,” he asked, though it came out as more of a shocked statement than a question.
“Cactus juice cookies! So why are you eating them, you idiot! I told you that I was making them for the party!”
Sokka crossed his arms in defiance. “How was I supposed to know? They were just sitting in the kitchen!”
“Dude, I labeled everything. I put little fucking notecards in front of the trays!”
“Well, I didn’t see them,” he replied, a little desperately.
“For fuck’s sake, Sokka, I used cactus shaped cookie cutters and green food coloring!” he yelled, shoving the uneaten cookie in his face for emphasis which, when his vision finally came into focus, was certainly cactus shaped and green.
Now that he thought back on it, he did remember seeing little pieces of paper on the counter, but hadn’t bothered reading them. He also recalled half-listening as Jet rambled on to him about the party after Sokka had agreed to come. He hadn’t paid much attention, only humming at the right moments while he did his homework until Jet left him alone, but he would bet the meager amount of money in his wallet that Jet had warned him about the cookies then.
At his wide-eyed stare and lack of response, Jet sighed and his shoulders dropped a little. “Okay. How many did you eat?”
“Two,” Sokka squeaked.
Haru appraised him with a quick look up and down. “Well, that’s not too bad. It’s not as potent in cookie form, so it won’t be like last time.”
Sokka tilted his head towards the ceiling, then instantly regretted it as his world spun. “I’m going home.”
“Uh, not in this state, you’re not,” Suki said. She wrapped a hand around his bicep. “Can he stay in your room or something?” she asked Jet.
Jet eyed the stairs. “I have a better idea. Let’s go, buddy.”
Sokka felt too dizzy to protest as Jet grabbed his other arm and led him over to the stairs. Briefly, they got stuck between a group of dancing bodies. The lights, music, voices, and people touching him were all too much. He tried to make himself as small as he could until they reached the staircase.
Suki stayed behind him as he trudged up the steps after Jet. His stomach swooped with an odd mix of relief and dread when they walked all the way down the hall to where Zuko’s room was.
Jet knocked insistently. Even through the closed door, he could hear Zuko’s explosive sigh and his desk chair creak as he got up. A moment later, he jerked the door open.
“Jet, I told you I’m busy-”
Zuko paused in his angry tirade when he caught sight of Suki practically holding Sokka up.
“What’s going on?”
“Sokka ate cactus juice cookies. You’re on babysitting duty,” Jet said with false cheer in his voice. Zuko looked on as Suki urged Sokka through the door and over to the bed where he sat heavily. A relieved sigh left him when, for a peaceful moment, it didn’t feel like the walls were melting around him. Zuko’s cat, Druk, opened one eye to see what had jostled the bed, then proceeded to ignore him completely.
Zuko glared at Jet. “I told you it was a bad idea to make those.”
“It’s not my fault your boyfriend eats everything in sight.”
Sokka groaned. “God, Jet. Fuck off.”
Suki glanced warily between the three of them. “I’m gonna leave you guys to it. Feel better!” she called over her shoulder as she slipped out of the room.
Jet went to follow her, but stopped when Zuko plucked the joint from his mouth.
“Zuko!”
“I need it more than you. Get out.”
“Fine.” Jet huffed. His face softened a bit when he threw one last look Sokka’s way, but he didn’t say anything else when he pulled the door shut behind him.
Zuko’s eyes slid over to Sokka as he took a drag from the joint. He was only wearing an oversized sweatshirt and boxers, bangs messily falling in his face like he’d been running his hands through his hair all day. Sokka didn’t like the uncontrolled way fondness bubbled up in his chest at the sight of him so soft and rumpled. So he looked away, kicked his shoes off, and curled up miserably on the bed.
Zuko went back to working on his paper, paying him no mind as he typed. Sokka peered around the dim room at all of the knickknacks and books cluttered on shelves. The heavy iron lamp on his nightstand that Iroh gifted him one year emanated a soft yellow light over the bed, a sleeping dragon curled up at its base. Zuko loved that lamp, and it was almost always on at night. The only other light in the room came from his desk light and the red lava lamp next to his TV. Sokka’s focus zeroed in on the floating bubbles, and he felt himself begin to float, too.
For a while, he lay there and it was all he could do to breathe. The last (and only) time he’d had a healthy dose of cactus juice was different from how he felt now. There were no hallucinations or voices in his head, only the muted pulsing of his surroundings and the feeling that all of his senses were heightened. He could do without the fast heartbeat, sweating, and trembling, though. It wasn’t terrible, but he felt unsettled from the anxiety swirling in his gut. He, and anyone who was unfortunate enough to witness the ordeal, had discovered that he was more sensitive to cactus juice than most other people during his first encounter with the drug.
“So, cactus juice cookies, huh?”
Dazed, Sokka snapped his attention to Zuko’s voice, made raspier by the joint that he was stubbing out at his desk.
“Yeah,” Sokka said. “Not my best moment.”
Zuko rested his head on his fist as he looked at Sokka. “You’re a lot calmer than I thought you’d be. After last time-”
“Stop, no, don’t wanna talk about it,” he whined, burying his face in Zuko’s pillow. It smelled like his shampoo, which was somehow calming and thrilling at the same time.
Zuko let out a quiet laugh, but the sound was drowned out by the music being turned up downstairs. People stomped and clapped and screamed along. The whole house seemed to vibrate with it. Sokka pressed a shaky palm to his head, which ached more and more by the minute.
Suddenly, the noise got louder, and Sokka looked up sharply to see Zuko leaving. He heard a door shut down the hall, then soft footsteps padding back. Zuko shut his bedroom door, too, and the cacophony of the party lessened significantly. Sokka sighed and dropped his head back to the pillow.
“Better? I closed the door at the top of the stairs.”
“Mhm. Thank you,” Sokka mumbled. He peeked one eye open to see Zuko standing awkwardly in the middle of his room, so he scooted to the other side of the bed in invitation. Zuko sat on the edge and looked down at him. “Were you really gonna stay up here all night and work?”
Zuko shrugged, playing with his rings as he answered. “Yeah. It’s due after spring break and I need to finish it.”
“Nerd.”
“I’m the nerd?” Zuko raised an eyebrow at him. “What did you do all day then, hm?”
“Definitely wasn’t at my computer trying to make a 3D model of my final project,” he muttered, grinning when Zuko barked out a laugh.
“That’s what I thought.”
Sokka looked up at him. He’d noticed as the minutes passed that every color was becoming more vibrant and exaggerated. Zuko’s face was no exception. The pink that always dusted his cheekbones stood out beautifully, as did his lips. But that was nothing compared to that golden-brown hue of his eyes, the color of amber jewels, bright against the redness from his high.
Wow. Maybe he should write poetry whenever he was completely obliterated by cactus juice. He could become famous and-
“Sokka? You with me?”
Sokka blinked, and realized he’d zoned out staring at Zuko’s face. When he broke out of the haze of his mind, he saw Zuko was wearing an expression that seemed torn between amusement and concern. He felt his cheeks darken, and covered his face with his hands.
“Yeah. I’m here,” he said, hoping Zuko hadn’t noticed his train of thought. Could Zuko read minds? If that was possible, Sokka was fucked.
He heard a snort from above him. “No, I can’t read minds.”
Oh, so now he was spewing his thoughts out loud without noticing. Great.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Zuko continued. “You’re, like, sweating a lot.”
Sokka moaned and crossed his arms over his eyes. “I know, I’m sorry. I can’t-”
His voice shuddered to a halt. He hated not being in complete control of his reality, and he wasn’t sure how he could put into words that this feeling scared him even though he knew he would be okay once the effects of the drug wore off. This was another thing that was different from his last experience with cactus juice; at least then he’d been so out of it that he didn’t notice how everything felt wrong and uncomfortable, too distracted by people and objects that weren’t actually there. Two cookies only touched the surface of that high, and part of him wished that he had eaten enough to not realize how afraid he was.
“I’m gonna go get you some water,” Zuko decided.
His hand flew to Zuko’s wrist, holding him in place. “No!”
“Why not?”
Sokka swallowed. “I don’t want to be alone right now,” he admitted.
An expression of understanding passed over Zuko’s face, but that was all he did to acknowledge the state Sokka was currently in. In a way, Sokka was grateful for it.
“Okay. I’ll get Jet to bring you some. Do you want to watch TV or something?”
Sokka wrinkled his nose. Even TV seemed like too much stimulation at the moment. But it was Zuko’s room, and he wasn’t about to disrupt his night even more.
“Uh, we can if you want to,” he tried, though it wasn’t very convincing if Zuko’s exasperated look was anything to go by.
“How about I play Animal Crossing while you try to sleep this off?”
Finally, some of the tension he’d been holding left his frame, and he melted into the bed.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said.
He had no concept of time passing; at some point, Jet came in to drop off a metal water bottle that was bright orange and bigger than Sokka’s head, clinking with ice and cool to the touch. Zuko made him drink small sips before they settled down next to each other, Zuko with his switch grasped in both hands and Sokka struggling to grasp onto a coherent thought.
Sokka’s eyes roamed lazily over Zuko stretched out on the bed beside him. His long legs were crossed at the ankles, pale from the winter months. Sokka kept getting lost in tiny details; the freckle resting just above his left knee, the way his hair stood out against his skin, the muscles of his thighs that disappeared beneath his boxers. How his old Republic City University sweatshirt sagged loosely on his frame yet hugged his wrists in the sweetest way, long fingers wrapped nimbly around the device currently holding his attention. Its blue light illuminated his furrowed brow, the fading pimple on his chin, the strands of hair falling over his forehead. Sokka wanted to reach out and brush them away.
Zuko was still a little high, and slow to realize that he’d caught the full intensity of Sokka’s attention. He looked away from Animal Crossing to raise an eyebrow at him.
“What?”
Sokka kept staring. He could feel his lips turn up at the corners, delirious and lovesick. “Nothing.”
Zuko frowned at him, one hand extending to touch Sokka’s shoulder. “You’re shaking.”
“Yeah, that happened last time too,” he slurred out, finally looking away to pillow his head in his arms. The cold sweats came with excessive shivering, and Zuko’s drafty room wasn’t helping any.
He felt Zuko sit up, and a moment later there was a soft weight on his shoulder. He curled up beneath the blanket that was draped over him, burying his nose in the fabric and breathing in deep. It smelled like the agarwood incense Zuko sometimes burned in his room, smokey and calming.
“Thank you,” he sighed, eyes drifting shut. Zuko hummed in response, and the only sound in the room after that was the clicking of buttons and soothing Animal Crossing music turned down low.
Despite the blanket, a persistent chill wouldn’t leave him and he found himself inching closer to Zuko’s warmth as the minutes crawled by. Zuko ignored the fact that Sokka had attached himself to his side. Even when he asked Sokka his opinion about the placement of a new path on his island, and Sokka slid up the bed to get a better look at the screen, head resting on Zuko’s shoulder, he didn’t comment on their closeness. Eventually, he had one leg thrown over Zuko’s while his left arm made its home across Zuko’s stomach.
If he wasn’t so out of it, he’d be having an internal meltdown over the fact that they were fully, undeniably cuddling. But his brain and body only had room for one freak-out at a time, and he was currently occupied by the hallucinogen running through his veins, muddying every thought and emotion. All he could do was bask in the heat Zuko provided, fixating on the way his own arm rose and fell on Zuko’s stomach as he breathed.
The colorful brightness of the game right in front of him served as an effective distraction from his symptoms. In his present state, Zuko’s island villagers looked less like humanoid animals and more like fucked up, blurry blobs, which proved to be entertaining until Zuko set the switch down on his chest, arms raising in the air for a languid stretch.
“How’re you feeling now?” he asked around a yawn.
Sokka nuzzled into Zuko’s sweatshirt, close to the junction of his shoulder and neck.
“Mm. You smell so good.”
Zuko huffed a slight laugh. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
It took a moment for Sokka’s brain to catch up, and he felt his cheeks heat yet again. “Oh. A little better, ‘m just getting sleepy,” he mumbled.
For the most part, he’d stopped trembling and he was pleasantly warm. His thoughts still felt sluggish but Zuko’s comforting presence had eased nearly all of his earlier anxieties. He certainly wasn’t going to dwell on why that may be.
Sokka whined when Zuko forced him to sit upright and drink more water, the motion making him dizzy, but he couldn’t complain when he was able to tuck himself back into that warm shoulder afterwards. He continued to watch Zuko play, occasionally mimicking the villagers' robotic way of talking to hear Zuko’s boyish laugh. When he was approaching the edge of sleep, Zuko failed to catch a fish for the second time in a row and swore.
“Man, you suck at this game,” Sokka teased, voice quiet with his fatigue.
“Shut the fuck up,” Zuko said, bonking their heads together gently and staying there. “I hate you.”
“You love me,” he muttered back.
Zuko didn’t answer, but Sokka felt him smile where his cheek rested against Sokka’s forehead. It was the last thing he remembered before he was lulled to sleep by Zuko’s steady breathing and the sound of Druk purring from the pillow where he had curled up behind their heads.
A persistent ray of sunshine peeking through the blinds slowly drew Sokka away from the comfort of sleep. As he became more aware, he felt his head pound right along with his heartbeat, and couldn’t help the pained moan that left him. He tried to stretch, but something was holding him so tightly that he had no range of motion.
Vaguely, he recalled falling asleep in Zuko's bed, and concluded without looking that it was Zuko's arms around his middle. Any mushy, fond feelings caused by that realization had to be put on the backburner when his stomach rolled uncomfortably. Shit.
He struggled into a sitting position, but Zuko still had a vice grip around his waist. The nausea was quickly escalating from something manageable to an urgency that had him scrambling. Still, Zuko wouldn't let him move.
"Hey," he snapped. "I need to get up."
Zuko garbled some nonsense in his sleep, but Sokka could make out the clear no in his voice.
"If you don't let me up I'm gonna throw up all over your bed," he warned, swallowing back the saliva gathering rapidly in his mouth.
Zuko released him instantly. Sokka stumbled out of bed, narrowly avoiding stepping on Druk who let out an affronted mew, and raced to the bathroom.
By the time Zuko came to check on him, he’d become well-acquainted with the toilet seat and cold tile floor. Zuko wet a face cloth with cool water and draped it over the back of Sokka’s sweaty neck. He mumbled his thanks.
Zuko crossed his arms. “Have you learned your lesson about eating suspicious cookies?”
“They weren’t suspicious,” Sokka choked out. He retched into the toilet again.
Zuko stepped out for a moment and reappeared with a towel and a change of clothes.
“Take a shower, you’ll feel better. Then I’m making you breakfast.”
Sokka wrinkled his nose. “Don’ wanna eat.”
“Too bad.”
He shut the door behind him as he left, and Sokka sighed. Zuko was still taking care of him in his own demanding, stubborn way, but he wished they could return to the warm intimacy of last night, where it seemed like nothing could touch them there. Where he had an excuse to be close to Zuko and comforted by him as his senses were overwhelmed by the drug.
With only the aftermath left as evidence that he’d consumed cactus juice, Sokka was back to his normal self, albeit more tired, sick, and grumpy than he usually was. Zuko wouldn’t be as gentle with him today. Ignoring the pang in his chest, he stood up to go through the motions of taking a shower.
Admittedly, he did feel better once he was clean and dressed in Zuko’s clothes. He had to roll the sweatpants a couple times at the waist so the ends wouldn’t drag on the floor, but the hoodie Zuko loaned fit comfortably and smelled like him.
Sokka was crossing the hallway from the bathroom to Zuko’s room when he heard quick footsteps thumping up the stairs. Out of curiosity, he stopped and waited to see who it was. Zuko appeared at the top step, flushed and out of breath. He caught sight of Sokka and waved him over frantically.
Sokka tilted his head and padded down the hall. “Wha-”
He froze when Zuko put a finger to his lips, effectively shushing him. If he wasn’t already dizzy, the blood rushing to his face surely would have made him sway on the spot.
Zuko leaned in close, a glint in his eye and voice low when he spoke. “You owe me twenty bucks.”
Sokka stared at him blankly. When the words finally registered, he gasped.
“Where?” he whisper-shouted.
“Kitchen,” Zuko said, smirking.
Sokka pushed him aside and raced down the stairs as quietly as he could. The first floor was a mess, cups and bottles and cans littering every available surface. People were asleep on the couches or curled up in sleeping bags. Jet liked to take care of everyone when he threw a party, so there was a huge stock of all that stuff stored in the basement. It was also the reason he warned the people he invited if he was making a certain special cookie. Sokka winced as he remembered that perhaps last night could have been avoided if he listened to Jet more. But he would never admit that out loud.
Carefully, he stepped over sleeping bodies until he was across the living room and crept along the wall until he could get a perfect view of the kitchen without anyone inside seeing him. But in the end, it didn’t matter, because the only people there were too occupied with each other to notice anything else in the world.
Zuko just became twenty bucks richer, he thought, watching as Haru kissed Jet soundly against the kitchen counter. From the looks of things, they’d been at it for a while.
Sokka smiled to himself and made his way back over to the stairs, where Zuko was waiting by the front door. It was about time those two idiots figured it out.
Zuko held up his keys. “C’mon. I’ll make you something to eat at Uncle’s instead.”
He grudgingly followed Zuko outside to his car. Really, he wasn’t in the mood to eat. But Zuko seemed set on making them breakfast, and the kitchen was off limits for the foreseeable future. In fact, it was probably best to give the house a wide berth for the rest of the day if he knew anything about Jet and Haru. The thought made him wrinkle his nose.
They didn’t talk on the ride into town. After the excitement of their discovery wore off, he remembered how tired and ill he felt. He rested his head against the cool glass of the passenger window and watched the world go by, mind blank.
By the time they arrived at The Jasmine Dragon, the Saturday morning rush was in full-swing. Sokka squinted when they stepped inside, the chatter of customers and clatter of dishes loud enough to make him wince. Zuko pressed a hand to the middle of his back and urged him through the restaurant to the kitchen doorway. One of the waitresses called out a greeting to them, but Sokka didn’t hear who it was over the buzzing in his ears that Zuko’s touch brought.
Iroh, Lu Ten, and Song were busy at their stations as Zuko and Sokka entered the kitchen. Iroh fiddled with several teapots, but looked up at the sound of their footsteps. He beamed at them.
“Zuko, Sokka! What a fine surprise!”
Zuko’s face softened with a smile. “Hi, Uncle.”
Lu Ten glanced away from the dough he was kneading at, giving Sokka a double take. “Damn, Sokka. You look like hell.”
Sokka rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”
“Do we have any chicken here?” Zuko asked, half-way inside the walk-in fridge at the back of the kitchen.
“Middle shelf on the left,” Song said, removing the rubber gloves she wore to wash the dishes. “You don’t work here for a couple months and suddenly you forget where everything is, huh?” she teased.
“That’s not my fault,” he grumbled.
Iroh stopped giving Zuko shifts at the beginning of the semester when it became apparent that balancing work and school was too much. Zuko protested, but Iroh would have none of it. Sokka listened to him bitch about it for days afterwards until he’d become so swamped with assignments that he seemed to forget he ever had a job in the first place.
Iroh tsked quietly at him, but said nothing more as he concentrated on his tea.
Zuko straightened and kicked the fridge door shut, his arms full of the items he needed to cook. He jerked his head towards the stairs leading up to Iroh’s apartment when he made eye contact with Sokka. Dutifully, Sokka followed him up the creaky steps. The kitchen crew, too absorbed in their work, didn’t even murmur a goodbye as they disappeared.
Iroh’s place was just as cozy as the tea shop below it. It was spacious, but he’d decorated it in a way that every corner was perfectly adorned with some trinket or furniture. Sokka especially loved the framed photos covering the walls. His favorite was one of Ursa, Zuko, and Azula when they were little kids, posed outside of Ursa’s quaint home in Vietnam. They looked happy.
Large windows in the living room let sunlight cast everything in comforting, warm shadows. In fact, the sun was enough for Zuko to cook by as he set his pilfered materials down on the counter, not bothering to turn on the overhead light. Sokka trudged to a stool at the kitchen island that faced the stove. He pillowed his head on his arms after he sat, watching Zuko quietly cook. A beam of sunshine warmed his back and he allowed himself to doze.
Despite his earlier reluctance at the prospect of food, the smell of a promising meal was enough to pull Sokka from his nap. A hollow pang in his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten enough in the past day and a half, and he yawned, sitting up straighter at the island to see a steaming teapot in front of him. Cautiously, Sokka lifted the lid and sniffed it.
“What’s this?” he asked.
Zuko didn’t turn from where he was stirring something slowly on the stove. “Ginger tea. It’ll help with the nausea.”
Sokka poured himself a cup and sipped it carefully, enjoying the slight kick of the ginger as it went down. He leveled a wandering stare at Zuko’s back and couldn’t help but notice he was still wearing that damned sweatshirt from last night. The one that made Sokka want to smooth his hands over Zuko’s waist and hold his hands. Inwardly, he cursed the sickness that tore him from bed that morning, from that blissful moment he’d spent wrapped securely in Zuko’s embrace.
Zuko startled him out of his thoughts when a bowl was deposited loudly on the counter in front of him. Sokka peered down at what looked to be rice porridge with shredded chicken in it. It smelled similar to chicken soup.
“It’s called cháo gà,” Zuko said, sliding into the stool across from him with his own bowl. “Not really a breakfast food, but,” he shrugged, “it always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”
Sokka smiled at him over his first spoonful and took a tentative bite. It was bland enough for his stomach to easily tolerate, but not so much that it was unpleasant to eat; comforting in a way that reminded him of his father’s cooking. He savored it, chewing slowly and drinking sips of tea in between bites. Zuko chuckled when he scraped the bowl clean.
“I’m gonna hazard a guess and say that you liked it,” he said smugly.
Sokka pursed his lips and tilted his head, fighting another smile. “Yeah, it was good. Thank you.”
“Do you want me to make you some more tea?” Zuko asked, standing to put their bowls in the sink.
“Wow, more tea?” Sokka pretended to swoon, sweeping a hand over his forehead in a dramatic gesture. “My, my, I bet you say that to all the boys.”
Zuko grinned. “Only the ones that accidentally eat edibles and have a bad trip in my room.”
Sokka rested his chin in his hands and looked on as Zuko started to make another pot despite Sokka’s lack of a real answer. With a full stomach and the playful banter between them, he almost felt back to normal.
“Careful, Zuko. If you keep doing nice things for me, I might have to fall in love with you.”
He blanched, regretting the words the instant they left his mouth. Fuck, why had he said that? Why couldn’t he peacefully exist in the illusion he’d built around himself, one that ensured his feelings for Zuko stayed out of sight? Where they were just friends and nothing more? Why couldn’t he be happy with that?
While Sokka stewed in mortified silence, Zuko appeared calm as he measured out the leaves for the tea. Aside from the slightly rigid set to his shoulders, he maintained that cool and collected demeanor he always had, besides when he was angry. At least for the moment, he didn’t seem angry with Sokka.
Sokka jumped when the shrieking kettle cut through the thick tension that had settled over the kitchen. Zuko took the kettle off the burner and set it on a cooler part of the stove, then just stared at it. Sokka thought he would explode if neither of them spoke in the next minute.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Zuko finally said. His eyes stayed locked on the kettle.
Sokka blinked. It took a moment for the words to register. But when they did, there was no happiness or relief that Zuko had possibly taken him seriously. He was surprised to find that instead, a wave of anger washed over him and he was drowning in it. It was the worst kind of anger, too. Underneath, hurt simmered.
He slid off the stool and braced both hands on the edge of the island, leaning forward with a scowl. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Zuko.”
Zuko lifted his head to look at him, really look at him. He held his breath and gripped the countertop tighter.
“I never say things I don’t mean.”
Sokka closed his eyes at the sincerity he heard in Zuko’s voice. Hope was such a dangerous thing, but he couldn’t help the way it fluttered in his chest. It gave him enough courage to walk around the kitchen island and stand before Zuko, who he loved so much it hurt sometimes. Zuko only kept that steady, unnerving gaze on him which betrayed nothing of how he felt.
Sokka gulped. “You wouldn’t mind?” he asked shakily.
“That’s what I said before, isn’t it?” Zuko replied, finally reaching for the kettle. He lifted the lid of the teapot and poured hot water inside smoothly. Sokka’s eyes followed the motion absently.
“Okay, so…” Sokka trailed off, bracing himself for what he was about to say. “Hypothetically, if I told you that it would be impossible to fall in love with you because I already have, what would you do?”
It was an offer of his fragile heart. All that was left for him to do was see if Zuko would accept it.
Zuko set the kettle down again and met his eyes. He put a finger to his chin and looked Sokka up and down, as if he was appraising him.
“I’d kiss you.”
An involuntary squeak left him. He felt blood rush to his cheeks.
“How can you just say that so casually?” he sputtered.
Zuko shrugged. “Because I like to watch you squirm.”
Sokka felt his face twitch into an expression of annoyance, but it faded when Zuko’s hand touched his. Their fingers intertwined and Zuko tugged him closer.
“What are you doing?” he breathed.
“Hypothetically, if I kissed you right now, what would you do?” Zuko asked, ignoring Sokka’s current question and echoing his earlier one.
“I- I would let you,” he admitted, reeling at the turn the conversation had taken.
“Good.”
Sokka tilted his head in confusion, only for Zuko to lean in and slot their lips together, one hand coming up to cradle his jaw to keep him at the perfect angle. Sokka inhaled sharply, not out of displeasure, but shock. He was quick to recover and release all the stress he’d been harboring in one long breath, melting further into the kiss with one arm coming to hook around Zuko’s neck. His nose nudged Zuko’s cheek, a gentle touch on its own. Zuko smiled and kissed him harder.
He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, exploring each other in a way they never had before. Sokka learned that Zuko nipped when he kissed, and loved the little sounds Sokka made, absorbing every single one with lips and tongue and teeth. He found that he couldn’t keep his own hands in one spot, frantic to try everything he’d ever wondered about Zuko in case it was all a dream, running them through Zuko’s hair and under his shirt to skim light fingers over his back. Zuko shivered at the touch every time.
Zuko pulled away first but not before leaving a few quick pecks on Sokka’s mouth. Sokka chased him with a whine, and finally snapped out of it when he heard Zuko’s delighted laugh.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” Zuko asked, tilting to rest his forehead on Sokka’s chest with what sounded like a relieved sigh. Sokka went cross-eyed trying to stare at the top of his head. Was this really happening?
“Why didn’t you?” he barked, startling them both. Zuko shifted away so he could see Sokka’s face.
“I didn’t think you were ready.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I already knew that you felt something for me-”
“What?” Sokka cried. “How?”
Zuko raised an eyebrow. “You’re not exactly subtle.”
Sokka groaned. He turned to plant his elbows on the counter so he could put his head in his hands. “We could have been making out all this time,” he said mournfully.
“I wanted to wait for you.” Zuko said, pouring them fresh cups of tea.
“How long have you known?”
Zuko shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. One day, I started noticing little things you only did around me and it just clicked. But I never said anything because you didn’t, either. I figured there was something holding you back.”
Sokka sighed, taking the cup of tea Zuko offered him. “Yeah. I was scared.”
Zuko frowned. “Scared of me?”
“No, no. I didn’t want to lose you. I had no idea you felt the same way.”
“You didn’t?”
“You’re not easy to read, Zuko.”
Zuko crossed his arms. “If you didn’t realize it after I let you fall asleep on top of me, that’s on you.”
“Hey, I was a little out of it!”
“Yeah, and whose fault was that?”
Sokka rose to the bait. “Not mine! I was hungry and they were- mmph.”
Zuko cut him off with a firm kiss, and wow, Sokka could definitely get used to this. He accepted it gratefully, hungrily, and he thought it might be hard to get used to something he couldn’t get enough of. They were lost in each other for another indeterminate amount of time, only breaking away for air. A silly thought came to his kiss-addled brain.
“You know what, Zuko?”
“Hm?”
“I think cactus juice cookies are the best thing in the universe.”