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Oh, How We Find Our Way

Summary:

It isn’t long before he commits Zuko’s own sleeping patterns to memory, because the firebender wakes not long after Sokka, and that’s while Sokka’s still getting up stupidly early because he sweats too much in his sleep.

It takes less than a week for Sokka to prod Zuko about it. “Dude. You know you need sleep to run a country, right? Like, more than a nap’s worth of sleep.”
__

In which Zuko doesn’t sleep nearly enough once he takes up the throne, and Sokka isn’t having it. And maybe they get to fall in love on the way, as a treat.

Notes:

I don't know why my brain said write 6k words on Zuko never sleeping enough, but it did, so now you get to read that I guess. This was literally meant to be a couple bullet point headcanons but I'm not sorry. I wanted to gift this to a couple of people, but then that list got really really long, so instead I'm just going to say here that this is dedicated to every person that has written a zukka fic, whether i've read it or not. this is for you, babes

okay, AND a special thank you to @surveycorpsjean for giving me so many ideas, and inspiring me to finally finally write something for this fandom <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Sokka takes to making sure he wakes up before Zuko, for a whole slathering of reasons.

 

It starts accidentally. The room Sokka is temporarily given at the palace as the official Water Tribe Ambassador is full of windows, and the potent sunlight and heat that comes with the sun rising feels a thousand times worse in the Fire Nation. He isn’t surprised per say, but he’s annoyed that he hadn’t thought about it sooner and done something about it preemptively. So he stirs with the early sun rise, stares up at the ceiling for a while, and grumpily plans out the entire speech he’s going to use on Zuko to convince him that he needs curtains in his stupid red room.

 

It takes zero convincing. Sokka is already up and attempting to train outside when Zuko wakes, and connecting the dots is easy. Zuko apologies, gaze lingering on the dark streaks underneath Sokka’s eyes, and the curtains are put in before Sokka returns to bed for the evening. Why weren’t there any damn curtains in the first place , Sokka wonders idly. There’s absolutely no way every single firebender gets up that early. Then again, the expectations of the royal family here were obviously far too high. Sokka doesn’t need to ask about that. And if he’s a little annoyed that he didn’t even get to say his speech (all that planning for nothing, which means his morning of lying awake in bed really was a bust), he lets it go in favor of watching Zuko the next day with a smile on his face. It’s nice to know someone cares about him, and is so proactive in trying to show it in their own weird, quiet way.

 

Zuko is not good with feelings, but Sokka’s pretty sure he gets the sentiment.

 

//

 

The curtains help a lot, but adjusting to the heat still takes time. Sokka isn’t quite accustomed to it yet, so even though he isn’t rising with the first stray peak of sunlight, he’s still rising earlier than he’s used to.

 

It isn’t long before he commits Zuko’s own sleeping patterns to memory, because the firebender wakes not long after Sokka, and that’s while Sokka’s still getting up stupidly early because he sweats too much in his sleep.

 

It takes less than a week for Sokka to prod Zuko about it. “Dude. You know you need sleep to run a country, right? Like, more than a nap’s worth of sleep.”

 

Zuko, to his credit, doesn’t seem bothered by Sokka’s accusation. He just also clearly doesn’t take it to heart. “My sleep schedule is fine, thank you. There’s already too much to do in a day to start cutting it short.” They’re sitting outside again, as they do most mornings, splitting a pot of tea before they get to work. 

 

Sokka snorts. “You aren’t gonna change an entire nation in a day, pal. Doesn’t matter if you wake up at 3am or noon. You gotta pace yourself, or you’ll burn yourself out.” And yeah, maybe that last part was a bit intentional. Maybe it’s playing dirty to use terrible puns on Zuko while he’s trying to convince him of something. Maybe it’s working against himself to be laughing into his tea at his own dumb jokes while he is saying something he’s serious about. But it makes Zuko laugh into his own cup, and the smile he finally wears looks like it’ll actually stick around for the day, so Sokka doesn’t push it.

 

//

 

Well. He doesn’t push it for the day, that is. But he continues commenting on it in general, because he can’t leave anything alone, and Zuko continues to artfully dodge the topic anyway. The reforms won’t write themselves, the council wants to push back working on the laws Zuko and Sokka have labelled as a priority, Zuko wants to push forward deciding which council members can stay and which need immediate replacement - the list goes on. Partially because every time one thing is to be crossed off the list of things to do, two more take its place. And Zuko’s list of things to do was long from the start.

Sokka sighs in his seat, stretching his arms above his head. He and Zuko had long left behind the Fire Nation council for the day, retreating to a private study to work in peace and ease. Fighting for such immediate, stark changes was hard and draining when tension was high, and too much of the established staff couldn’t be trusted.

 

“Alright, I’m calling it for the night. Any more reading and our eyes are going to ooze out of their sockets.”

 

Zuko only glances up from where he’s lounging, but when his gaze returns to the scroll in his hands, a small smile is on his face. “You deserve the rest. I have to thank you again, Sokka, for working by my side through this. There may be much more to do, but today was productive. Tomorrow I’ll see to inviting in the list of teachers you proposed, both to interview and to get their take on the new education outline. I’m hoping it will be less than a year to integrate teachers from the other nations into our systems - if any are willing, of course.”

 

“They’ll come,” Sokka says. He doesn’t know for sure that the ones they’ll write to tomorrow will, but he knows for sure that if they don’t, he’ll keep looking. “I’ll remind you in the morning of the names, if you want. Help you sort the mail. We’ve done enough for the night.” Zuko looks back up at him, though this time he doesn’t immediately return to his reading.

 

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I’ll write the letters tonight, to ensure they can be sent first thing tomorrow. Don’t let it worry you.”

 

The groan Sokka lets out is accompanied by him throwing his whole head back and arms to follow, as if the ceiling will hold the answer to the question ‘why?’ that runs through his head on repeat. “Zuko, that list is like a thousand miles long! I was really diligent in providing options, because I’m just great like that. You aren’t spending the whole night here alone to write out letters that I could do tomorrow. Helping you is kind of part of my job.

 

“And my job is to run this nation!” Zuko snaps back. His voice is quieter when he continues, though his resolve seems to stand. “Anything you can designate as your job also falls under my responsibilities, as the Fire Lord. I’m overseeing your ambassadorial work, Sokka, and you’re already doing more for me than your job requires.” Zuko pinches his brow, eyes squeezed close, and he thinks for a moment that perhaps the lack of a response means Sokka is taking his word and leaving. While he doesn’t want to lose the company, he does want to keep working-

 

But then papers are being pulled out from his hands, and he looks up to find Sokka standing over him.

 

“I’m also your friend. And, on top of that, I’m equally invested in fixing up the Fire Nation.” Sokka’s eyes trace over the little frown Zuko wears, right where that smile used to be only seconds ago. Neither of them make a move to, well, move. “Zuko, on Tui and La, you’re going to bed. We’ve been at this for hours now, and I know for a fact you still think you’ll be getting up with the sun.”

 

Zuko squints at him, his expression somewhere between agitation and pure exhaustion . “You’re going to challenge the new Fire Lord?” Sokka is not convinced.

 

“Zuko, you won’t even let me call you Fire Lord. Not even during ‘very important meetings.’ You don’t get to pull rank only when it’s convenient.”

 

Zuko groans with resignation and stands, looking at Sokka with what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. Not that Sokka is saying that out loud, of course. Zuko puts his hands on Sokka’s shoulders warmly, “I appreciate that you care,” and begins to turn Sokka towards the door to the sounds of Sokka’s protests. 

 

“Woah woah, hey, you’re coming with me. I’m not leaving until you are.” Sokka plants his heels, pulls himself out of Zuko’s grasp as he turns, and places his own hands on Zuko’s shoulders.

 

“You’ll just fall asleep here, Sokka.”

 

“You know, it’s very important in Water Tribe culture to get enough sleep each night. It’s actually a bit offensive to suggest not sleeping the full eight hours. As your ambassador, and on behalf of making sure the Fire Nation proceeds with respect, I have to advise you to go to bed now.”

 

“Sokka, Sokka . Why is every conversation with you like this? Why do you take it on yourself to fix me and my nation’s faults-”

 

“Stop it.”

 

Zuko blinks.

 

“You don’t need fixing. And the crimes you’re carrying are not ones that you have committed. We will right them, I swear we will right them - but not at the cost of your own health. And now that you’re finally listening to me-” Zuko doesn’t look away, even though he realizes they’d been staring pretty intently at each other, “we are going to sleep. And will continue to do so at a reasonable hour. Every. Night.”

 

Zuko looks back at his papers, his scrolls, his lists, all fanned out across the floor where he’d been sitting. It’s a last defense, and Sokka knows that Zuko is fully aware they both can tell. “How’re you gonna make me? I’ll just come back.”

 

“Easy. I’m going to put you to bed myself, then.”

 

Sokka doesn’t wait to hear what Zuko has to say before scoping him up in his arms. “Hey, open the door!” And the guards do, because they usually listen to Sokka. That’s how Zuko likes it - except now, it’s biting him in the ass. He really must be tired, though, because he doesn’t fight Sokka much more once he’s picked up and being carried. “Why. Why is this my life?”

 

“Yeah yeah, come on hotman.”

 

And that’s how they end up in Zuko’s room, passed out next to each other. Simple as that. How it becomes a habit is not as simple, and neither is entirely sure. Except that maybe, they sleep better next to each other, comforted by the safety of having someone they trust by their side.

 

//

 

Sokka takes to lying about the time to Zuko in the morning. He thinks (correctly) that there’s no other way Zuko would sleep in, seeing as how Zuko seems to think the entire world lies on his shoulders and that he’s the only one who can (or perhaps just- should. He thinks he’s the only one who should ) fix it, and Sokka isn’t having it.

 

Zuko needs sleep.

 

Not even a whole lot. He just needs a normal amount of fucking sleep for once, go the fuck to bed and stay there.

 

//

 

The guards don’t say anything about Sokka’s new sleeping arrangements. Any council members that previously would have are replaced. The lack of intervention means the progress on rewriting the Fire Nation education system goes smoother, with Sokka taking over the lead in that department while Zuko focuses on law enforcement primarily. They convene during meetings, and more later in the evening after they’ve moved to their study, and again the next morning when they wake up together. The routine comes together rather quickly, all things considered. Sokka doesn’t even notice his belongings going missing until his entire room is empty. He checks Zuko’s room for him first, instead of the throne, to ask about it. He doesn’t find Zuko, but he does find his own belongings, and he doesn’t find that as weird as he maybe should. Everything is already put away nicely, anyway. Why make a fuss when there’s clearly room?

 

//

 

“It’s only six, Zuko. Go back to sleep.”

 

“It’s not six.” Zuko says this, and he’s right. He rolls over to face Sokka, but he doesn’t get up yet.

 

Sokka argues anyway, because he feels like it. “You take care of everything on your own. Let someone help for once.”

 

“And by someone-“

 

“Yes, I obviously mean me, Zuko. Don’t make me spell out my own jokes, then they aren’t funny.”

 

Zuko snorts. “Maybe they weren’t funny to begin with, then?”

 

Sokka turns to look at him, fingers spread across his chest and over his heart while an expression of indignation takes over his features. “Me? Not funny? Zuko that’s like, my thing. And here I thought we were friends.” But he can’t keep up the charade too long, not while he watches Zuko’s sarcastic smirk waver, break, and spread into a real and genuine smile. Not when Zuko’s hair is splayed around him like a halo, much longer now that months have passed by, and Zuko’s complaints are getting lost against the pillow because he’s turning his head back towards the fabric. “You know what? Nevermind. If sleeping means I don’t have to listen to your awful jokes, I’ll do it.”

 

Everything feels so much warmer in Zuko’s presence, and Sokka is like seventy percent sure it’s not because of any firebending. (And Sokka is good at math, so he feels pretty confident in that seventy percent. Not to boast.)

 

He also won’t be saying that, thank you very much. Instead he pushes at Zuko’s face, and Zuko doesn’t even look at him when he turns his head away from Sokka and pushes him off the bed with one arm.

 

Sokka can hear Zuko’s laughter from where he is on the floor, but he’s laughing too, and the moment is nice. Even if his butt is sore from his fall.

 

//

 

It’s a strange morning when Sokka wakes from a sweat. By now, he’s easily acclimated to the Fire Nation heat. Almost too much for comfort, and he makes a mental note to visit home soon before he loses the tolerance for the cold that he spent his whole life building. So when he wakes up far too early, in a way so similar to when he had first begun staying with Zuko in the palace, he’s confused. The grogginess of sleep clouds his thoughts, and for a moment he wonders if he’s sick, but he doesn’t think so. He’s been taking care of himself, and though he’s a bit tired from being awake earlier than he’d like, he doesn’t feel the familiar kind of fatigue that comes with a cold.

 

Opening his eyes feels like peeling fruit, but he does it. Huh. The curtains are still closed, and the room is dark. In fact, almost everything in the room looks like it’s exactly where it should be. The doors are closed, his even reading materials are arranged neatly on the nightstand he’s by now claimed for himself, and his clothing is put away. The room is orderly, and everything feels calm.

 

The only thing different, it seems, is that there’s a heavy weight on his chest.

 

At another time in his life, Sokka would startle at that. Here, he feels no threat. Not when he knows there are guards outside that would have alerted him and Zuko to any danger, and not when Zuko himself is right by his side. Unless it was someone from the gaang that had decided to stop by and oh, he doesn’t know, decided they want to kill him now? Then no one is going to be hurting them. Either of them.

 

And it seems stupid anyway, to go through all these loops in his mind, when he knows he can just tilt his head and look down to figure out what’s happening. So he does that. And it doesn’t really feel surprising, per say, to see that Zuko is pressed face down into Sokka’s chest, an arm draped over Sokka’s waist. It’s never happened before, but it doesn’t surprise him. In fact, if it wasn’t for the god damn heat, Sokka would say it was comfortable.

 

“Zuko.”

 

He gets a mumble for his effort.

 

Zuko.

 

“Aren’t you the one always telling me to sleep?” It’s only the slightest bit incoherent, but Sokka has gotta give Zuko props for being so put together when he literally isn’t even awake yet. If he decides not to think about why that is, or how Zuko has probably felt the need to be alert and awake for most of his life, well. That’s Sokka’s decision.

 

“Zuko, I’m gonna die,” he whines. “You’re gonna cook me alive.”

 

“Good.” Sokka whines more at this response, but Zuko just wraps his arm tighter around Sokka’s middle, and Sokka thinks he hears the word “comfortable” mumbled against his chest. He can’t exactly go back to sleep, and he could protest more, but he doesn’t. And it’s probably better if I don’t ask myself why, he thinks.

 

//

 

The physical affection becomes just as much a part of their routine as sharing a bed, as sharing a room, as having their tea together in the morning. Their time together in the morning is, funnily enough, a bit shorter with the adjustments to their routine. Waking up later means Zuko’s meditations get pushed back as well, and Sokka acknowledges that cutting their morning tea shorter in order to allow Zuko time to meditate is a fair trade so long as it means Zuko’s getting sleep.

 

It doesn’t take quite as long to see Zuko’s first smile of the day either, now that his routine isn’t such a burden. Who knew having a trusted friend as a hard working advisor and ambassador could make changing and running an entire nation be a little less stressful? Oh, Sokka knew, that’s who.

 

Sokka snorts in laughter at his own thoughts, and though Zuko doesn’t look over at him, he smiles. Sokka stares at him unabashedly this morning, his own dopey smile settled onto his face comfortably. 

 

The air today is light, clean, and a gentle breeze rustles through the trees. There isn’t much talking today, but at some point in their comfortable silence, Zuko extends his hand towards Sokka. When Sokka takes it, he feels a gentle squeeze, and hears the unspoken Thank you for being here from Zuko. He squeezes back, a little bit harder and yes a little bit on purpose, but he knows his message is received loud and clear by the way Zuko’s smile widens into a grin. Even if he did roll his eyes at Sokka. Wouldn’t trade being here by your side for anything else in the world. Maybe the tiniest bit of it gets lost in translation, but Sokka is sure Zuko gets the gist.

 

Neither of them look away from the pond with all the turtleducks, and neither one of them lets go of the other’s hand.

 

//

 

Sokka returns to the Southern Water Tribe.

 

It isn’t permanent. It’s just a vacation, a chance to see his dad again. Sokka had mentioned it once at dinner, and Zuko hadn’t let it go until Sokka agreed to take the trip.

 

“I can handle myself for a month.”

 

“A month? Oh no, absolutely not. I don’t even wanna know what you’ll try to do the month that I’m gone.”

 

“I think I’ll start by hunting down the avatar, and maybe after that I’ll begin implementing the new educational structure that will teach children how evil the Water Tribes are. Just for fun.” He’s smirking into his bowl of spicy noodles, noodles that Sokka knows would still be too spicy for him all this time later, and Sokka does his best to glare at him.

 

“I think you’re forgetting which one of us here does the convincing.”

 

Zuko shrugs. “I could make it three months, if you want. It is, technically, my decision.” And oh, the glint in his eye is evil. Absolutely evil. Sokka hates how much he loves it, and how much he sees himself in Zuko’s banter. 

 

This is what I get for trying to joke with a Fire Lord, he thinks. “Fine! Fine, a month. One. One singular month.” Zuko smirks. “And! And I’m writing to Aang! Letting him know to keep and eye out for you.” He doesn’t mention that yes, he’s going to actually do this, and that he’s going to be doing it more so he can make sure Zuko has some sort of company while Sokka is gone. If Zuko sees through him, he doesn’t say anything. He just laughs his way through dinner, and all the way back to their bedroom, and Sokka pretends to be upset about it the whole way even though they both know he’s not.

 

//

 

It’s the worst month of sleep Sokka’s gotten since before the war ended, and he doesn’t need to even ask Zuko to tell the same is true for him. “Idiot,” Sokka whispers under his breath, sure Zuko’s condition is ten times worse than his own, especially if the piles of scrolls that Sokka finds in the bedroom later are anything to go by. Sokka bets Zuko didn’t even bother getting a temporary replacement for Sokka, even though he assured Sokka he would look into it. The dumb idiot moron who happens to also be the Fire Lord has probably been running himself at full speed this month, doing three jobs at once the entire time Sokka was gone.

 

Zuko does find time to come and welcome Sokka home personally though, and oh , he just thought of this as home, didn’t he? Even though he arguably just came from home. Sokka doesn’t question it too hard; there’ll be enough other hard shit he’ll have to think about the moment he’s back to work. Instead he hugs Zuko, and Zuko hugs back, and Sokka begins immediately on his plan to convince Zuko that the best use of Sokka’s first day back is to take a really long, well-deserved nap.

 

//

 

It works, and the nap is really, really good.

 

//

 

The trip does refresh him, though, and Sokka uses that as inspiration to write a follow up letter to Aang. He writes a second, and a third, and a fourth. He thinks about how long it’s been since he’s written to his friends, and to his sister, and he tries not to worry about the guilt that starts to pool in his stomach. All of them have had plans, and all of them have been busy, but he still feels as if perhaps he should have been more diligent with keeping in touch.

 

He’s clearly upset by the end of his last letter, upset enough that he doesn’t notice Zuko approaching him from his left. Hands aren’t placed onto his shoulders until the last letter is done, and he’s grateful that he doesn’t spill any ink when he jolts. It’s only Zuko, though. Zuko with concern written all over his features. “Have you finished?”

 

Sokka looks down at the couple of letters he had planned on banging out, most of them going on for far longer than he’d intended. Toph’s is the only one kept somewhat short, because most of it is Sokka telling whoever’s going to read it aloud to Toph to convince her to come visit him in person. He invites all of them, somewhere in his writing, but Toph’s is the most direct. “Yeah, I’ve finished. I meant to be working on reports by now, I’m sorry.”

 

Zuko shakes his head at him. “Nothing to apologize over. This was important, clearly. I’ll have them sent right away.” Sokka listens to Zuko speak, nods along with him. Can’t remember if he told Zuko what he was doing, or if Zuko had figured it out on his own. “Let’s go out tonight, Sokka.”

 

Okay, okay, woah. That’s…. Not routine. And definitely enough to distract Sokka from his bad feelings. “Out? Out where?” He’s suspicious, but he can’t help the excitement that leaks into his voice.

 

Zuko shrugs in response. “The market. The food stalls. A fancy restaurant. I don’t care. I just want to go somewhere.” It’s genuine, from what Sokka can tell, even if he thinks maybe Zuko needs to go out just as much as Sokka wants to. Sokka had a month off. When was the last time Zuko had taken anything even close to a day off? Sparring decisively doesn’t count, and Sokka realizes he isn’t sure. Zuko is suggesting it for him, because he can tell Sokka is upset - but maybe Sokka doesn’t have to feel so selfish when he says yes. They deserve it, don’t they?

 

“No restaurants. I don’t wanna sit all day, especially not if I’m gonna be writing the whole time I’m here. Let’s just wear something casual and walk through the vendor’s stalls, tonight.”

 

The smile that Zuko gives him tells Sokka he made the right call, and he doesn’t even notice he’s smiling again as he watches Zuko walk away to return to his own duties of meetings all day.

 

//

 

Though Zuko is exhausted by the time his meetings are done, and Sokka is just as fed up with his own portion of work, neither wants to cancel going out for the night. Sokka’s outfit loses a few layers, Zuko discards his robes for something easier to walk in, and Sokka’s done changing in time to watch Zuko struggle with whether or not he should keep his headpiece in.

 

“I’m pretty sure the phrase is to let your hair down.”

 

Zuko doesn’t turn from the mirror. “I don't want my people to think I’m ashamed of them. It’s important to face our history head on - not to hide it.”

 

Sokka hums in thought for a second. “If you were ashamed of them, you wouldn’t be out there walking amongst them. You don’t need a piece of jewelry to show your nation that you represent them. You’re humanizing yourself, and your leadership, and that says way more than any piece of gold ever could.” Sokka leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest, just to keep himself from marching across the room and throwing away the headpiece himself. It’s not his battle to fight or his decision to make, as vocal as he may be about it.

 

Which only makes him more proud when, after a pause, Zuko carefully puts the headpiece away and lets his hair stay down. He looks beautiful like this, Sokka thinks. Somehow both more and less like the Zuko he had met back before Zuko was also the Fire Lord. Less like the expectations put on him now, but more confident and happy with himself than maybe he had ever been before the final defeat of his father.

 

Sokka doesn’t think he should voice any of this, but somehow, “You look beautiful,” slips past his defenses. He doesn’t have time to be embarrassed (and Zuko’s ears are red, even if his expression doesn’t change much, so maybe he’s embarrassed too) before Zuko is taking his hand to lead them out of the palace. 

 

Sokka knows he isn’t imagining it when, as they make their way towards the city, Zuko quietly returns the compliment. “You look very handsome tonight.” He doesn’t imagine it, and he doesn’t even tease Zuko for it either. This time, he has the time to be embarrassed. And happy, too.

 

Definitely time to be happy about it.

 

//

 

They weave their way through the crowds, and Sokka is happy to note that most of the faces they come across are happy to see them. A couple people bow, but most people simply nod with a smile or wave, and that seems to relax Zuko. His people have begun to accept his reign, and have already been living under his reform. That they seem happy to be doing so is incredibly relieving for the both of them.

 

They still pay fair prices for the food they eat, even though Sokka’s stomach is enormous as ever. “Facilitating the economy is important,” Zuko says, handing over coin for a portion of skewered roast duck. They start their night with more traditional Fire Nation meals, but their walk takes them through the various markets, where vendors from other nations have set themselves up nicely. Zuko is proud to see it, proud of his nation for beginning to change and proud of these vendors for allowing them the chance to change.

 

Zuko’s smile is contagious, as it always is, and Sokka grins his way through stuffing his face.

 

//

 

The pair considers, briefly, staying out longer. The lanterns in the city are beautiful at night, red against a blue, blue sky. But once they’re full, and they’ve walked a considerable amount, they both agree they’d rather end their night in Zuko’s own garden, near the pond. It’s their spot.

 

They don’t even bother with a pretense of tea or winding down for the evening. They simply settle down in the grass, leaning on each other, happy to enjoy each other’s company. At some point Sokka takes Zuko’s hand, and he doesn’t even mind the warmth of it.

 

“What do you think you’d want your title to be, if you were to stay here?”

 

Sokka tilts his head in confusion. “ If I were to stay? I don’t know how to break this to you, Zuko, but you’re kind of stuck with me. I’m not letting you do all that work on your own and run yourself into the ground, buddy.”

 

Zuko huffs in frustration, and Sokka isn’t really sure where this agitation has suddenly come from. Zuko’s glaring now, though, and that’s no good. “No, that’s not- I mean-” He sighs, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and pulls his hand back.

 

Sokka misses the warmth immediately.

 

Which is stupid, because he hates the heat, but he does. Miss it, that is. He misses Zuko’s warmth. And waiting is excruciatingly painful, definitely not his most prominent characteristic, but he exerts the willpower here to be patient. Gives Zuko his time to think. And when Zuko opens his eyes again, he shifts so that their shoulders are no longer brushed up against each other. Instead, he turns to fully face Sokka, chest to chest. There’s only a little bit of space between them, but it feels like a nation’s worth when they were just so close, and Sokka can’t pin exactly why his heart is going feral in his chest right now, but he knows he’s nervous.

 

He’s nervous.

 

Of what, he’s less sure.

 

Zuko opens his mouth, closes it. Breathes. Tries again. Sokka doesn’t look away from his face the whole time. “Sokka.” Sokka nods in return, eyes glued to Zuko’s, which seems to at least encourage the firebender to continue. “Sokka, I like you here. We live together. We share a room . You’re affectionate with me in a way no one else is, or maybe ever has been. And yet you’re still just my ambassador.”

 

Sokka snorts. “So, what? My titles not fancy enough for you to keep associating with me now, Great and Mighty Fire Lord?”

 

“No! No, that’s not what I mean either, I-” Zuko’s reaction is immediate and passionate despite the cliche of it all, and Sokka can at least tell he’s being honest. Zuko takes a deep breath like he’s drowning, like a dying flame, before continuing. "It’s not about titles. Or, at least, it’s not about status. I just. Are we friends-” and Sokka knows he looks offended, he’s offended beyond fucking belief, flooded by thoughts of I haven’t spent all this damn time here for just the fucking Fire Nation, Tui and La. But Zuko continues. “Don’t! Don’t make that face, I know you’re jumping ahead instead of hearing me out. Sokka, are we friends, or are we… more?”

 

And boy, does that take all the wind out of Sokka.

 

“Are you the avatar?” Oh god, he said that out loud.

 

For his part, Zuko only looks confused, not upset. Like he expected something….. Worse.

 

“Are you the avatar? I can’t breathe, and my lungs were definitely filled with air a second ago, so this has to be some kind of stunt. I know Aang’s not in town.”

 

Zuko opens his mouth and for the second time that night, no words come out. He looks as if he’s genuinely about to argue with Sokka on why he should know Zuko isn’t the avatar, before he thinks better of it and tries to steer the conversation back to what it was supposed to be. “That’s not an answer, Sokka. And I… I need one. I need a real answer. I need to know what it is we’re doing.”

 

“I don’t know.” The answer is quick on Sokka’s tongue, and Zuko’s face drops. “I don’t know what we’ve been doing. I mean, I didn’t know. Past tense! But.” Sokka’s the one that needs a deep breath by this point, and god, talking about feelings is never easy with Zuko. He doesn’t know which of them to blame, but he knows a lot of things are starting to make sense very, very quickly. And he knows he’s going to lose his chance if he doesn’t start talking just as fast, even if he’s figuring it out as he’s saying it. “I know that what I want to do, every day for the foreseeable future, is to wake up by your side. And take you out into the city. And convince you that you deserve more than a night off. Maybe convince you long enough to take trips with me back to my tribe. To see my dad. To spend some time there that isn’t absolutely miserable, because I can’t sleep without my fucking furnance of a friend beside me. And then to return home - return here. Because you’re here, and where you are is home, I think.”

 

There’s a second of silence that sits between them, and this time it’s even harder for Sokka to wait. But he does, and then Zuko’s looking up at him so gently. “Aren’t ambassador’s supposed to be good with words?”

 

“Is that really all you have to say to me right now?” Sokka’s voice is an octave higher than usual, but a smile is spreading across Zuko’s face, and damnit if Sokka doesn’t fall for that trick every time.

 

“Kiss me. Kiss me, and we’ll talk tomorrow about trips to the Southern Water Tribe. I can’t imagine us going any time soon, seeing as you really only just got back, but we’ll make it happen eventually. That's always going to be your home too, I can be convinced.” And Zuko looks gorgeous in this lighting, the moon finally washing out those harsh reds that surround Sokka all day every day. The pond is still, the breeze is gentle once again. Zuko’s right hand is in Sokka’s left, and Sokka isn’t really even sure when that happened, but he isn’t complaining. He brushes back some of Zuko’s hair with his free hand, tucks it behind his ear, and leans in to kiss him. 

 

They never let go of each other’s hands.

 

Sokka does, eventually, move his free hand back up to Zuko’s face. He cradles it, pulls Zuko closer. He doesn’t know if the feeling is like fireworks, as explosive and almost symbolic that would be. The kiss seems… different than that. Strong, passionate, but not desperate. Not like something snapping, or breaking. Instead it tastes like something that they’ve been building towards for a very, very long time, and they’ve finally reached the top after all their hard work.

 

When they break apart to breathe, they pull back, chests heaving and eyes searching finding each other. Sokka cracks first, grin stretching across his face and his laughter surprising even himself.

 

“I told you the first time. You’re stuck with me.”

 

Zuko looks so, so happy here. Sokka wants to make him look like that for their rest of their lives. His features look so gentle when he smiles, like all his lost youth has come back to him. “Yeah, guess I am stuck with you. But I wouldn’t trade being here by your side for anything else in the world.”

 

Sokka gets the sentiment completely.

 

And hey, maybe a new title, something a little more official, wouldn’t be so bad.

Notes:

y'all ever get that thing where you think you're writing headcanons, and then you're writing a fic, and then that fic triples in size and you realize you never had a plan to begin with but it kind of keeps writing itself? yeah, i ALSO think that's us blacking out and getting possessed or something. I haven't written anything in a couple of years so please be nice to me and also please don't look too closely at the politics. I wrote this in a day, I refuse to do research.

Anyway, I'm @donvex on tumblr! come find me and talk to me, or give me something to write headcanons for!