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Even with his eyes open, the darkness that surrounded him was all-encompassing. The fabric covering them felt smooth and soft, almost cool. The silk stuck to his temples, to the sheen of sweat covering his entire form. Caught in the darkness behind it, all he could concentrate on was the soft slide of long hair against his chest. His hair, the Firelord’s. For a painfully long moment all other touches and sensations had stopped, as Zuko simply drew lazy circles on his skin with the tips of his tresses.
Curling his toes and arching his back, Sokka wanted to scream, “More! Touch me, fuck me, use me,” but the gag in his mouth turned it into a muffled moan. Twisting and turning, he tugged at the restraints keeping him in place. He wanted, needed, craved, and the fucking Firelord was teasing him.
Mid-desperation a soft chuckle filled his ears, the warm, honeyed laugh of someone having a ball, someone having just way too much fun torturing him. Fucking Zuko doing everything but fucking him. Sokka yanked at the ropes again, digging the back of his head into the mattress. He needed it, craved release.
A soft waft of warm air against his skin was the only warning he got before a warm, slick tongue lapped against a nipple. It drove sharp pangs of lust like electric sparks through him, straight to his core, making him wonder for an instant if the fire bender had bent lightning across his skin. Teeth followed, sharp, close to painful against sensitive skin. It was nearly too much, but he still relished the sting and arched against it.
Warm fingers stroked along the line of his jaw, down his throat, dipping into the notch right above his sternum, before trailing down his chest. They skimmed across the other nipple, a mere ghost of a touch. Slicked by his sweat they drew wonderful, slow, intriguing patterns downwards, until they wrapped around the base of his cock. Drawing a sharp breath around the gag, he twitched, his fingers clenching and unclenching quickly, the promise of what was coming enough to send new sparks flying along neural pathways.
The first hand was joined by a second one, a thumb tracing along the underside of his cock, before thumbing the slit. He felt his eyes roll back, his breathing speeding up and he wanted to move, to touch, to reciprocate. Yet the inability to do so heightened every sensation. Not being able to see nor speak, the entirety of his mind was concentrated on the touches against his skin and the soft sounds filling his ears. Trying to relax his tensed muscles, he shifted his focus to the sounds Zuko was making, much more aware of them than usually. Among the soft murmurs, hums and whispers that filled his senses were half spoken promises, admonitions over moving, affectionate affirmations, all of the words never spoken between them outside of the bedroom. Sokka knew what Zuko felt for him, but he also knew how much of an issue speaking the words clearly outside of situations like this one was for Zuko He didn’t even think Zuko was aware of the words falling from his lips whenever they fucked.
The mattress moved and Zuko shifted beside him. However the hands on his cock never let go, not until warm lips wrapped around the head, the slick tongue replacing the thumb, lapping at the beads of precome. The mouth engulfed more and more of his length, wet, warm, completely fucking enthralling. The tongue moved languidly, drawing figures against his frenulum. The soft touches had him writhing violently in moments, his head whipping from side to side, as frustration and lust threatened to drown him.
The warm, wet touch disappeared for a moment, the hand returning to hold his cock in place before the mouth returned, lips and tongue drawing a line along the underside, towards the base. Moving further down, warm wet lips touched his balls, licking, sucking gently. The other hand touched gently, massaged, careful not to hurt.
The pulsing sensation at his core was building rapidly, rising like a tide, waves of lust starting slowly, deepening, pushing, falling back, rising again, fiercer, pushing him towards the edge.
The warmness of the mouth moved back up, wrapping fully around his cock yet again, taking all in until the head hit resistance. Zuko pushed even further and Sokka realised what Zuko was doing as soon as the tightness closed around the head. The gentle hum that followed almost pushed him over the edge, but as suddenly as it had started, it disappeared, leaving his cock wet and aching. Abandoned.
He felt Zuko move around, but couldn’t decipher his movements, not until he felt skin against skin as Zuko straddled him. The weight across his lap felt so right, so familiar. The dry palm of a hand felt unnaturally heated against his chest, the heavy pressure pushing him down against the mattress, fingers curling until sharp nails dug into skin. He felt Zuko raise his hips, hand wrapping around Sokka’s cock, still slicked by some oily substance, and positioning it against his entrance.
Holding his breath, jaws clenching around the gag, Sokka felt the tight, slick heat slowly surround him, Zuko slowly sinking down, taking in every inch of him. For a moment there was stillness, no movement, the only sound filling the air Zuko’s heavy breathing. Then Zuko started moving above him, strong thighs tensing and untensing against Sokka’s sides. The friction was heavenly, the slick heat pulling stifled moans from him. His whole body started to tense again, pressure building slowly, achingly, coiling around his spine, tightening. Sparks of lust electrified him, every touch of heated skin against heated skin pushing him further towards oblivion.
He could only imagine what Zuko looked like, riding him like a wanton. His imagination dirtied the Firelord, made him every bit as perverted and uninhibited as Sokka had ever dreamed he could be.
Zuko’s movements quickened, taking on an almost desperate, frantic edge. Sokka arched against him, pushing up into the heavenly tight ass. He swore behind the gag, every dirty phrase, every curse and filthy promise he could think of. Zuko’ was fucking trying to kill him.
The hand on his chest slipped upwards, wrapping around his throat and clenching. His breath caught in his throat, as he felt Zuko lean in, soft hair sliding across his burning skin. Warm air singed his skin, and Zuko’s words encroached on the edges of his consciousness.
“You’re mine,” the voice whispered, Sokka so far gone he barely registered. “Only mine. I’ll kill you before I let you go.” The possessiveness in his voice was a burning promise, one that Sokka latched on to, memorised, cherished. It was the closest Zuko had ever come to saying he loved Sokka, and quite the concession. The grip around his throat tightened further, making him see bright stars. It was still alright, Zuko could do whatever he wanted to him.
The grip on his throat, the heat around his cock, the familiar weight of Zuko straddled across his hips, it was all too much. The coil around his spine tightened, forcing his spine into a sharp arch. Nails digging into his palms, heels into the mattress, he felt electrified. It was painful, but the pain was so good, and the pressure kept rising, every part of his mind screaming for release. The heat around him was all he could focus on, he couldn’t breathe, the lack of oxygen driving the stars at the edge of his vision away, calling in the darkness. The coil snapped, and the waves that hit him like sister tsunamis, building and crashing down, drove his come from him in searing spurts, into Zuko, who took it all. His stopped even trying to breathe for a moment, and he fell into darkness, oblivious to anything around him.
As he came too, Zuko was slumped on top of him, sticky come across Sokka’s belly gluing skin to skin. The Firelord was breathing heavily, ragged, rasping breaths. His hand still rested against Sokka’s throat, but gentler now.
Sokka realised the gag had been removed, and he tested his jaw gingerly, the first movements causing a sting of pain. “Could you ditch the blindfold too,” he asked hoarsely.
Lazily, Zuko complied, pulling the piece of fabric from Sokka’s eyes.
Looking the spent Firelord over, Sokka realised he looked about as debauched as he had in his imagination, eyes heavy and lidded, skin flushed and sweaty, hair plastered to the sides of his face. He chuckled, drawing Zuko’s attention. “You win. You said you were going to fuck me senseless - and you quite literally did.”
Eyes nearly closed, Zuko seemed to be concentrating on breathing. After a few moments, he grinned. “You. And myself too.”