Archive of Our Own

Sokka has spent the last few weeks pulling all nighters in the library.

Both he and Zuko were pretty unprepared for the Councilman’s arrival, and knew that things would be changed in the aftermath, but neither of them knew how quickly or how drastically.

For starters, Zuko noticed that their relationship advanced even quicker than anticipated. This understanding that they would be together for the long haul meant that their communication improved drastically. Zuko truly felt like he could tell Sokka anything, and even though the occasional fear niggled its way into his fucked-up little brain, Zuko knew that they could weather any storm together. There was a lot that Sokka already knew about him and his family, but the scar talk that he’d been dreading suddenly became smaller and less threatening to their relationship. 

It was only a few days after the Councilman’s appearance that he and Sokka finally completed intercourse for the first time, and there have been very many successful attempts since. 

(Their first ‘I love you'-s had been traded as well. Very much in the afterglow of sex, and they’ve been saying it to each other as often as possible ever since.)

The second big change was that Sokka was now completely obsessed with the idea of time travel. The dozen other hobbies Sokka had taken up since deciding to stay in the Fire Nation more permanently were all dropped immediately, as Sokka began to churn out theories for how this even turned out to be possible.

The current theory that he is exploring is that his future self not so much invented time travel, as discovered its secrets by studying common elements of reported incidents in previous history.

Tonight, Sokka is reading the family history of some dynasty or another in the Earth Kingdom. He’s comparing the portraits of the rulers some 50 years apart, describing an uncanny resemblance and theorizing What if they’re the same person?  

“Sokka. They’re related, father and son. Of course they’re going to look like each other.”

“Not necessarily!” he insists. “You don’t look anything like The Phoenix King, and besides… This is different! These two are like, twins! We know time travel is possible, so how can we rule out the possibility—”

“Sokka,” Zuko repeats, more firmly. “Why are you looking at all of this now? You know that you figure it out. What’s the point in rushing?”

“The way I see it, the Councilman coming back now means that I’m supposed to start researching right away.” Zuko groans, flopping back against the bed. “I mean, the guy knows me… us, me. So he knows I’d start looking into it as soon as I found out. And the reason I figure it out in time to get here is because I came back in time to now in order to inspire myself.”

Zuko supposes that he has another twenty years or so to wrap his brain around it. Sokka similarly has been struggling to articulate his thoughts on the matter, but Zuko can hardly blame him. 

Even without the proof they had witnessed, he knows that Sokka will figure it out. His boyfriend is smart and determined and stubborn, and he can do anything he sets his mind to.

...Except figure out how to settle the trade dispute between the Fire Nation, the Northern Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom. 

The past ten days have been absolute chaos. The palace has been overrun with ambassadors and teeming with nervous servants.

Sokka and Zuko have both been pulling all-nighters to try and draft up an agreement that would benefit all parties, and Sokka swears that he’s losing hair over this.

To top it all off, Sokka’s complaining gets worse every day. Which is, naturally, very effective for problem solving and not at all a complete and utter waste of time. 

“Gee,” Sokka sighs, a wishful lilt to his tone. “If only I had some way of knowing exactly which strategy would work out!! Perhaps a visit from someone who knows what call is the right one, perhaps having lived this already.”

Zuko rubs at his tired eyes, pointedly ignoring his boyfriend.

“Wouldn’t it be great, if that someone could appear right… now!” Nothing. Sokka tries again. “Now! ….Right…. Now! ….Now.” Then, more quietly, muffled. “...now?”

Zuko finally looks up, scowling at Sokka. Sure enough, he has his head pressed against his desk. “Are you wishing for your older self to appear to counsel you on policy?”

“In my defense, he did ask us to call him the Councilman.” Sokka says, holding one finger in the air. His head shortly follows. “I’m simply taking him up on his offer. Oh, Councilman~”

“Sokka.”

“What? I’m calling him!” The cheeky smile only lasts a second. “You’re right,” Sokka sighs, dramatically pressing his cheek into his palm. “We should probably only try to summon him for important stuff.”

Zuko nods, turning back to the papers on his own desk but the silence stretches. When Zuko looks up, he sees Sokka still staring at him, this time with a smug grin in place.

He lowers his brush, tilting his head to squint at Sokka. “And by important stuff, I suppose you mean…”

“Bedroom stuff.”

“Right,” Zuko says flatly. “Bedroom stuff. Of course, good one.”

Zuko’s already back to work, but he doesn’t need to be looking at Sokka to know that he’s pouting. The tone of his voice carries that for him. “I wasn’t joking.”

But Zuko ignores him. It’s been several months since they had seen the Councilman, and Zuko had no reason to believe that he’d ever be coming back. He’d helped ease him and Sokka through an important first in their relationship, and maybe that was his sole intention all along.

He’s okay with that, really. It’s Sokka who brings him up more often than not.

Zuko’s naked and there’s blood on his neck and shoulders, his chest and in his hair. He’s absolutely mortified, and Sokka is cursing wildly, holding his hand over his nose while Zuko fiercely tries to help him, to apologize. 

Help comes in the form of him hurriedly wrapping himself in a robe, and guiding Sokka down the hall to the infirmary. Thankfully, Sokka was still wearing his trousers when this unfolded, so Zuko didn’t have to dress him before darting out of their bedroom. 

The physician on duty is skeptical from the moment they burst in, but Sokka still tries to lamely explain that they were sparring. As soon as the physician contains the bleeding, he takes Zuko’s hand and pointedly raises his unblemished knuckles to Sokka’s face. “Sparring,” he echoes.

When Zuko takes Sokka back to their bedroom, he does so under strict orders to have Sokka sit up in bed and save any sparring until Sokka’s nose heals up. 

In the privacy and safety of their own bedroom, Zuko lets himself appropriately freak out.

He broke his boyfriend’s nose. During sex.  

“It’s fine,” Sokka insists, to Zuko’s millionth apology.

“It is not fine,” Zuko presses, taking his hand. “I broke your nose. Your fucking nose ! I’m so sorry—”

“Baby, please,” Sokka says, squeezing his hand. He smiles wearily at him. “It’s my fault. I’m not upset with you, I promise.”

Zuko feels relieved that Sokka isn’t upset with him, but one detail deeply puzzles him. “How is it your fault?”

“Because I knew this would happen.”

“What? ”

“I didn’t know how or when, but I knew,” Sokka continues, sighing dramatically. “And being careful is what made it happen. Un-fucking-believable.”

It’s then that Sokka explains that he’d figured that’s how the Councilman broke his nose when he saw Zuko thrash in his lap, but wasn’t sure until the moment he felt Zuko’s skull collide with his nose. 

“Idiot,” Zuko says, barely containing an eye roll. “You’re the one who told me that you can’t change anything that’s going to happen, remember? That anything that happened to him before he came to us was already established.”

It’s still a little hard for Zuko to wrap his head around, even after listening to Sokka talk about it for a year, but at the very least he can parrot back Sokka’s words in a way that he knows is well deserved.

“Yeah I know,” Sokka groans. “But still. I knew it would hurt and didn’t want it to happen, okay!? Who wants to have their nose broken during sex?”

“You, apparently.”

“I didn’t want it to happen, just—” 

“Knowingly completed the same actions that would lead to it. Okay.” 

“I hate you.”

Zuko lifts their hands, kissing the back of his knuckles. “Love you, too,” he says. “Now, do try not to get any more blood on the covers, okay?”

“They’re red, Zuko,” Sokka says. “I bet you can’t even find the spots from earlier.” 

“They’ll dry brown.”

“Goodnight.”

Zuko laces his fingers through Sokka’s, pressing their hands into the pillow by his head. His boyfriend looks positively stunning like this, spread out beneath him, a light sheen of sweat on his brow. Sokka calls for him, reaching for his cheek, and Zuko kisses his palm before leaning down and kissing him deeply. 

Sokka keens, whimpering as Zuko slows his thrusts to deep, deliberate pushes into him. 

“Shhh,” Zuko says, leaving a chaste peck before leaning back off his boyfriend. “I’ve got you, love, I’ve got you.”

Zuko cups Sokka’s knee, holding it against his hip and splaying his other hand across his thigh. He eases out again slowly, before snapping forward, languidly striking against the bundle of nerves that he knows will soon enough send Sokka barreling over the edge. 

“Oh fuck, Zuko…” Sokka cries, tipping his head back. “Right there baby. Fuck.” His voice is high and needy, breathless and frankly, music to Zuko’s ears. It doesn’t matter how many times they fuck, Zuko will always be gone for how beautiful Sokka looks like this.

“I know,” Zuko soothes, rather breathless himself. “I’m right behind you, love.”

A few more precise thrusts later, and Sokka’s coming with a throaty groan, sending streaks of white onto his dark skin. As promised, the vice around Zuko’s cock has him following right after Sokka. 

Carefully, Zuko eases out and leans over to press kisses all over Sokka’s beautiful face. 

It was a ventured guess, truly a shot in the dark the first time Zuko tried imitating some of the sweet things that Sokka did for him in bed. Hog-monkey see, hog-monkey do, whatever. But it had paid off in dividends, and Zuko is always eager to shower him with affection, so he stopped questioning his instincts long ago. 

“I love you,” Sokka says, nosing clumsily against Zuko’s cheek. “You’re so fucking good at the sex stuff, babe.”

Zuko snorts, but ultimately returns the nuzzle. “I love you, too,” he says. “Let’s get cleaned up, shall we?”

It takes some gentle coaxing and a little bit of bodily dragging Sokka to the bathroom, but he knows that Sokka will appreciate it in the long run, even if he’s being a bit of a wet noodle at the moment. Zuko promises to keep the water ‘Nice and toasty’ and lather them up with Zuko’s soap, and Sokka lets himself sag against Zuko to be cleaned. 

“Sokka, you gotta help me a little bit.”

“Hm, no,” Sokka sighs, snuggling back against his chest. “Cozy.”

Zuko nudges him with his knee, and it takes some effort, but eventually they get themselves cleaned, dried off, and settled into their bed. Zuko tucks himself up against Sokka’s side and pulls the sheets up over them. 

He closes his eyes, breathing deeply and just enjoying the closeness between them. But after a few minutes, Zuko notices that Sokka hasn’t returned the cuddle, nor has his breath evened out into the gentle rhythm of sleep. Sure enough, when Zuko lifts his chin to look at him, he sees that Sokka is staring thoughtfully at the ceiling, his arm cushioned behind his head.

Zuko purses his lips, then reaches to cup Sokka’s cheek. His head doesn’t turn, so Zuko leans up to press a kiss against his jaw. “What are you thinking about?”

Sokka shrugs slightly. Zuko guesses it’s because he’s still trying to think about how to articulate his thoughts, though he may also be on the fence about sharing them. Zuko knows not to take it personally. Sometimes Sokka is very mushy and cuddly after sex, other times he’s quiet and contemplative, vulnerable in a way that he encourages for Zuko but hypocritically dislikes for himself. 

Zuko doesn’t like to push him when he’s in this state, because he doesn’t think it’s fair or appropriate. Sokka was a little bit nervous the first few times he tried bottoming, and they worked through that together and Sokka really enjoys it now. But Zuko knows that after years of being the provider for his family with his dad away, Sokka still has trouble accepting when other people want to take care of him. He’s a caregiver. This level of trust in letting Zuko take care of him, letting him into his body in this way, is very deeply personal for Sokka and speaks volumes about how much he loves Zuko. 

And Zuko will never do anything to jeopardize that trust and faith. It’s not like he doesn’t know what it’s like to have trust issues.

So Zuko waits. He breathes deeply and thinks through his schedule for the next day. He makes a mental note to change out the candles sometime tomorrow afternoon. Mentally drafts a letter to Aang.

Finally, Sokka is ready to speak. Zuko feels him take a deep, steadying breath, and then hears him say, “Tell me again, what it was like with him.” 

In any of the times Sokka has asked this question over the last two years, he’s always done so without a hint of jealousy in his tone. Just genuine curiosity, at first, and then a fond fascination with the way Zuko describes it, as if it’s some kind of fairytale and not a retelling of the time Zuko got finger-fucked by an older man. One that just happened to be a future version of his boyfriend.

But it was an important moment in their relationship, so Zuko understands the fascination with it. Zuko thinks about it often as well. 

He smiles warmly, cuddling closer to Sokka’s side and leaning his head on his shoulder. The words are nearly a perfected monologue at this point, but no less sincere or wistful.

“It was so natural,” Zuko says. He watches as Sokka’s lip curls in a small smile of his own. “So strange and yet familiar. I felt like I knew so little about my own body and he just knew. Such an easy chemistry, a gentle rhythm and I just felt so safe. I knew him, the same way I know you, but he knew me even more.”

Zuko cups Sokka’s cheek again, and this time his head turns at the suggestion. Zuko presses their lips together and Sokka sighs against him, rolling over fully to slot his leg between Zuko’s and wrap an arm around his waist. 

This time it’s Zuko who takes a deep breath, bracing himself against the warmth and emotion flowing through him. “And I remember looking into his eyes, and later your eyes, and knowing I was going to love you forever. That even if the Councilman disappeared, I’d see him again because I’d grow with you and see you become him. That as much as I loved you then, even though I wasn’t ready to say it, that you’d love me too and that no matter what happened, our love would be strong enough to transcend time.” 

Sokka’s brows furl the way they always do, struck by the confession as if it was the very first time Zuko told him. His boyfriend reaches up with two hands to pull Zuko toward him, this time joining their lips in a passionate, fervent kiss. He presses his forehead against Zuko’s, and sighs shakily. 

Sokka’s eyes are still closed.

“I worry about losing you sometimes,” Sokka admits into the silence. 

So this is what’s been bothering him. How long has Sokka been keeping these thoughts to himself? Zuko squeezes his hip, presses back against his forehead. I’m here, the gesture says. I’m not going anywhere, ever. 

“I know it’s stupid,” Sokka continues. Zuko argues that it’s not stupid if it upsets Sokka. “Sometimes I wonder why he came back. Was it because he missed you? Will I stop being worthy of your love someday? Will you… what if we don’t get to be together , what if you never see me become him?”

“Oh Sokka…” Zuko catches Sokka’s quiet tears with his lips, pulling Sokka until he’s nestled against his chest instead. “Never. Never, love. I know it,” he says it fiercely as Sokka clings to him. “I don’t know how I know it, but I do. There’s a Zuko that was sitting at home waiting for his Sokka to come back that night. And he did and he always will.”

He presses his lips to Sokka’s forehead and promises under Yue’s light, “There will always be a me for you to come home to.” 

It’s been two and a half years since their night visitor made his appearance during an important first, and they still talk about it from time to time. Sokka wonders aloud if his older self would warn him about an incoming war. Wondering if knowing that it’s something he would do means that they’re safe for the immediate future, or if he’ll truly mature enough to reach a point where he’d keep that information to himself in order to preserve the timeline or something. 

Sokka’s been working pretty steadily on a code of conduct of sorts for time travel. Things that can or can’t be changed, and the ripple effect that small actions could have. He journals almost obsessively, trying to trace outcomes back to the smallest, most minute origin point in order to comprehend how the slightest change could undo what occurred.

His most recent observation was his decision to close the drapes a few weeks ago during a summer storm. He insists that the lack of sunlight streaming through the windows that next morning is what made Sokka late to his meetings, which made him have to skip breakfast, which meant that he had to raid the kitchen for a snack, which means he was there when the head chef dropped a knife that would have gone right through his foot had Sokka not been there to catch it.

“Isn’t the cardinal rule of the kitchen that you should never try to catch a falling knife?”

“You’re missing the point, Zuko!” Sokka exclaims, tapping the rolled up parchment against his palm. “If I hadn’t slept in, he could have lost a toe!”

“Sokka.”

“The Councilman couldn’t even so much as touch the curtains, Zuko! A man’s foot hangs in the balance!”

“No.” 

“That’s why he had all those rules! Why he only came to us , and why we can’t tell anyone. If the consequences are that huge for just touching a curtain—”

“Pretty sure he would have just stepped out of the way of the knife if you weren’t—”

“Then just imagine how huge they could be if he, like, told us about the past dry season. We would have sunk all of our resources into that, and neglected our allies in the process, who were the ones who got us through the drought in the long run!”

Zuko looks at him. His boyfriend is standing there, his arms wide open at his sides, beaming ecstatically.

He only feels a little bit bad for bursting his bubble. “Does this mean you forgive him for not coming back and telling you how to settle the trade dispute?”

Sokka crosses his arms, pouting comically. “No,” he says. “Because that decision was hard and nothing significant came out of me struggling with it for 3 weeks.”

“Except for, you know,” Zuko smirks. “Having the other strategies at the ready for the next dispute that came just a few weeks later.” 

“Whatever,” Sokka scoffs, crossing his arms. After a moment, he relents, coming to sit with him on the bed and sitting sideways against the headboard to look at him. “Anyways, this means that he pretty much can only come back safely for sex stuff.” 

That is, if he’s coming back.

“Which begs the question,” Sokka continues. “What would you like him to do next time?”

“What?” Zuko asks, spluttering. “Why are you asking me?”

“Him and I can’t touch, remember?” Sokka says. “Besides, it’s not like I can ask anyone else.” 

“We have no reason to believe he will come back at all,” Zuko reminds. “It’s been almost 3 years. Maybe it was a one-time deal.”

“Maybe,” Sokka says. “But I’m a scientist, so there’s only one way to find out.”

Zuko bites his lip. “I dunno, Sokka…”

“Oh so you do have something in mind,” he grins. “Come on, tell me! I can put in a good word with me on your behalf.” Sokka winks cheekily, then nuzzles against the side of his face in a gesture that always makes Zuko feel weak in the knees.

It’s blatant cheating, but Zuko begrudgingly tells him anyway. 

Sokka scribbles a time and Zuko’s birthday on a piece of paper, then nails it to the wall right next to the bathroom door handle. “So I’ll see it every day!” he says. 

The note stares at them everyday. Zuko stares back every time he goes to use the washroom.

A few days later, Sokka adds to the bottom of the note: Don’t be late!

It’s Zuko’s birthday, and he’s more nervous than he should be. 

He’d made sure that the palace hadn’t made too big of a deal, but their friends had still insisted on making their way to the Fire Nation to spend the day with him.

It was nice, really, but he and Sokka had only one thing on their mind the whole day. Would he show up later? Was it even possible? Was Zuko actually ready for this?

When they’d found out how late Toph planned on keeping them up, Sokka insisted on crossing out the previously written time and instead making it two hours later. 

Zuko feels a little silly for how he’d protested changing the time, that they couldn’t do that last minute. Like he said, he’s more nervous than he should be, and truthfully, he really wants this to happen even if he isn’t quite sure he can admit that bit out loud. 

But then Sokka reminded him that, for future Sokka, it had been changed for seventeen years or more.

It’s been almost 3 years and Zuko still doesn’t understand a lick of this time travel business. He’s very thankful that he’s not the one that has to. 

Sokka is trying to distract Zuko from his own nerves with a cuddle. He’s very thankful for the contact, but his mind is still preoccupied with that one thing. 

“Knowing you,” he grumbles against Sokka’s skin. “You’ll show up late just to make a dramatic entrance. Especially if he would have to deliberately choose to arrive a few minutes late.”

“Knowing me,” Sokka says with a smirk, kissing Zuko’s hair. “I’m gonna show up right on time just to prove you wrong.” 

“If he even can make it back,” Zuko reminds.

“I get why you have to guard yourself against the possibility of disappointment,” Sokka says, bopping his nose. “But have a little faith in me.”

Zuko scowls, because once again, Sokka knows him too well. But Zuko supposes he similarly knows Sokka just as well. Stubborn, determined, and a bit spiteful when he wants to be. 

So sure enough, when the Councilman arrives just on time, both versions of the love of his life swivel their heads to smirk at him and say, “I told you so.”

“This was a terrible idea,” Zuko groans, burying his face in Sokka’s shoulder.

Zuko’s flat on his back, head tipped over the side edge of the bed to accommodate the Councilman’s cock.

“I love your dirty little mind,” the Councilman says from above him. He has his hand tangled in Zuko’s hair. He brushes his thumb affectionately across Zuko’s temple before speaking again. “You look so good taking my cock, like you were fucking made for it.” 

Zuko blinks up at him, he eases forward and takes more of the Councilman’s cock into his mouth, raising his brow in what he hopes is a reminder of what he’d asked for. 

“I didn’t forget, darling,” the Councilman smiles, rocking shallowly into Zuko’s waiting mouth. 

Just then, Sokka curls his fingers, pressing against his prostate and making Zuko groan around the Councilman’s cock.

Sokka is up to three fingers inside of Zuko, enthusiastically blowing him as he slowly works him open. Zuko’s pretty sure his other hand is wrapped around his own cock, but Zuko can’t actually see him crouched on the opposite side of the bed. From his vantage point, he can only see the soft lines of the Councilman’s belly and thighs.

“There you go,” the Councilman praises. As the only one without a mouthful of cock, much of the conversation has been very one sided, though no one seems to mind. In fact, Zuko feels Sokka groan around him when the Councilman thoughtfully adds that Sokka’s doing marvelously as well. The vibrations around him make Zuko whine himself, and the Councilman promises to fuck his throat properly. 

Truth be told, Zuko had very many ideas for how their reunion could go. But the bottom line is this— his only request was that somehow, some way, Zuko would be able to have both versions of his beloved touching him at once. 

The reality of it is electric, coursing through his veins and curling in his stomach in a way that only actual lightning had done before. When the Councilman finally starts thrusting into his open mouth, he feels that heady rush of excitement that comes with being, just a little bit, used. An object for pleasure, something to be held down and fucked. 

He doesn’t have to be The Fire Lord here. And now, he has two men, both people he loves with his whole heart, who are in charge of pleasing or using him as they will. 

Sokka releases Zuko’s cock from his lips with a wet pop. He hooks the three fingers inside of him, cooing softly when Zuko whines again. Sokka holds him steady, working Zuko until he’s coming with a high keening sound, his thighs shaking from the sudden force of it. The Councilman withdraws from Zuko’s throat, leaving him gasping and hungrily mouthing at the Councilman’s cock as his heart hammers in his chest. 

He feels Sokka carefully remove his fingers, pulsing as he does so to help relax the muscle once again. After all, the whole point of Sokka fingering him was to prepare him to take the Councilman’s cock. 

“Fuck, Zuko,” Sokka says from between his legs. “You never cease to amaze me, that was hot as fuck.”

“Some things never change,” the Councilman agrees, caressing Zuko’s cheek. His eyes are bright and warm, filled with so much affection that Zuko thinks he’ll melt all over again.

He feels a hot tongue against his abdomen, shivering as Sokka sets to cleaning him up. 

“Save some for me,” the Councilman husks. Sokka obediently steps away, his eyes dark with lust watching them. He stands fully, and now Zuko can finally see him, and… and… 

Zuko needs a second, he does, but his arousal still stirs at the sight of Sokka, standing there and stroking himself from root to tip with measured strokes. 

The Councilman swings one leg up onto the bed by Zuko’s shoulder, then leans over his chest to lick down his stomach, humming against his skin as Zuko twitches at the sensation. He then comes back up by Zuko’s head, cupping his cheek before leaning in to share. The kiss is hot and filthy, messy and passionate and Zuko is not going to take this lying down. 

He pushes himself up to a crouch, curling his fingers around the Councilman’s neck and gently pulling him closer until the two of them are kneeling in front of each other, sinking into the kiss. Zuko presses against his chest, and the older man quickly catches the suggestion, lowering himself so that he’s sitting on his haunches, allowing Zuko to straddle his lap and grind against his still very hard cock. 

The thought stirs him, and Zuko thinks his own cock will be hard again in seconds if they continue like this. 

The bed dips behind him, and Zuko breaks the kiss to reach for his Sokka. The one he’s spent the last few years falling more and more in love with every single day. He catches him by the lips, overwhelmed by the passion that sparks between them at the contact. 

He has to partially lean off the Councilman’s lap to wrap a hand around Sokka’s cock, further coaxing his hardness with leisurely strokes. Sokka gasps when Zuko breaks the kiss to trail down his neck, leaving little love bites for him to soothe with his tongue later, all while the Councilman hums with interest and rolls one of Zuko’s nipples between his fingers. 

With great effort, Zuko manages to keep stroking Sokka while the Councilman starts kissing down his chest. The gentle, reverent attention of his two lovers makes him shiver in anticipation. He mournfully has to release Sokka when the Councilman traces back up his neck and jaw. 

It’s okay, because they talked about this. Zuko had his doubts, but Sokka insisted that he wasn’t going to be jealous of himself. It is Zuko’s birthday, after all, and neither of them know for how long the Councilman can stay, or if this will be the last time he visits, so they have to make the most of the opportunity.

But it really is about both of them, Zuko wants them both, deeply, here and now, but rules. So many fucking rules that he doesn’t understand, but are apparently important in order to prevent the universe from imploding or something. 

Sokka squeezes his wrist in reassurance, and Zuko fully turns away from him to instead lean into the Councilman’s lips against his skin, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. With a deep sigh, he releases all of his concerns and frustrations to sink into the Councilman’s embrace. 

Zuko lets his fingers slide down the Councilman’s arms, tracing the scars he knows intimately and soothing over the one’s he’s yet to meet in his timeline. 

The Councilman pulls away from where he’s surely sucked quite the hickey on his jaw, aiming for Zuko’s lips, but Zuko dips his head at the last minute, intent on returning the favor. Or perhaps getting revenge, depending on the perspective. He delights in the quiet gasps he earns from the man who sounds so much like his Sokka, as he sucks a love bite in the still sensitive spot just under the strong line of his jaw. Zuko trails his lips lower, pressing his fingers into the warm muscle of his chest and arms, anchoring himself close as he tilts purposefully against the Councilman’s erection. 

It’s Sokka’s finger that he feels tracing down his spine, making him shiver and forcing him to pause in his mission and gasp against the Councilman’s skin. “Fuck,” Zuko mutters, hearing his voice tilt in octave when the Councilman’s hand closes around his gradually hardening cock. “Fuck, you two…”

“That’s the idea, baby,” Sokka reminds, forever sounding infuriatingly too pleased with himself.

Zuko leans away from the Councilman’s neck, only to come up short of a reply when he sees it.

Plain as day, clean-lined and impossible to confuse with anything else. A tan line. Wrapping around his neck and barely an inch thick. The line is only partially broken, muddled a bit, at the bottom edge where the line disappears into the hollow of his throat.

Emotion overwhelms him immediately, as he fails to fight the tears suddenly stinging his eyes. 

He recalls an offhand comment several months into their relationship, when they were in the market admiring jewelry and Sokka grumbled about how Only girls get gifted jewelry, what if I want pretty things?

He remembers another moment, just about a year later, when Sokka and Aang were discussing Aang’s engagement to Katara. Yes, I know it’s a Northern Water Tribe tradition, but it’s nice, isn’t it? An outward, easily visible declaration of your love. Gran Gran didn’t even marry Pakku back then, but it still meant enough for her to pass it down and keep it in the family. 

He thinks back to just a few weeks ago. Running a red ribbon between his fingers and quietly marveling at the craftsmanship, the gold details that shimmered in the light. Nearly jumping out of his skin when Sokka spoke, suddenly over his shoulder. Wow, it’s stunning. How many people have walked right past this without noticing the beautiful details sewn into the material?

He remembers sneaking back to the shop the next day, unable to name the force that brought him there, nor the overwhelming compulsion that insisted he buy it immediately. It’s not like he very much enjoyed shopping, despite Sokka’s efforts to sway him. 

Stashing it in a place Sokka would never think to look was another impulse that Zuko couldn’t explain at the time.

The Councilman’s lips press against his cheek, catching a tear that had slipped free. He realizes his own hand is still outstretched, fingers frozen in awe at the point of contact. 

The word forever echoes in his mind, and the Councilman smiles softly at him, barely visible in the blurred peripheral vision centered around the tan line that can only be left by one thing. A hand cups his cheek, and the next kiss lands gently on Zuko’s lips, the following in the hollow of his own throat. Zuko breathes in sharply, tipping forward to press his forehead against the Councilman’s. 

Sokka calls for him, concern coloring his beautiful voice, and it’s clear to Zuko that somehow Sokka hadn’t noticed the source of Zuko’s little moment. Still, Zuko twists, meeting his surprised eyes before he seals their lips together. He untangles himself from the Councilman to kiss his stunned boyfriend, murmuring soft declarations of love between each peck. Sokka chuckles, but returns his affections and whispers reverently in response to each quiet admission. 

(It might be weird to refer to his words of love as admissions, but each time feels as groundbreaking as the first. Something that both makes no sense and feels perfectly right, as if set into motion by the Spirits themselves.)

When Zuko turns back to the Councilman, the older man pulls him into a sweet kiss of his own, and Zuko melts all over again. “Okay?” the Councilman whispers when they part.

Zuko nods. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m ready.”

It takes a bit of maneuvering, but soon enough Zuko finds himself curled forward on the bed, the Councilman kneeling behind him as Zuko practically vibrates with anticipation. Sokka is in front of him, affectionately running his fingers through his hair and smiling encouragingly.  “Fuck, Zuko,” he breathes, shaking his head. “You’re amazing, you know that? Love you so much.” 

Zuko returns the smile, inching forward to kiss the inside of his thigh. “Love you, too,” he says. 

“And don’t worry,” Sokka adds cheekily. “You’re in two very capable sets of hands.”

The Councilman snorts behind him and Zuko rolls his eyes. The hammering in his chest picks up again when he feels the Councilman shift on the bed, then again as his hands palm and spread his cheeks. No matter how many times his Sokka does this, he can’t help but feel slightly mortified when being put on display. It’s sweet that his love finds it arousing, but it’s still difficult to think about his own body in this way. He tucks his head against Sokka’s thigh, very poorly hiding his embarrassment if the soothing ruffle to his hair is anything to go off.

“Beautiful,” the Councilman marvels. Zuko gasps as a finger sinks into him, thrusting shallowly. “Well done, Sokka.”

At this level of proximity, it’s impossible to miss the shudder that passes through Sokka, nor the way his voice cracks when he tries to jokingly reply. “Thanks, I had a pretty good teacher.”

“I’d say so,” the Councilman says warmly. The bed shifts behind him, and then Zuko feels the Councilman’s cock nestled between his cheeks. “Ready for me, sweetheart?”

Zuko curls his fists into the sheets, turning his head to meet the Councilman’s gaze. “Please,” he says, pushing his hips back. 

The Councilman smiles, smoothing a hand over the arch of his back before curving around his hip. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” With that, he eases forward, and Zuko’s lips fall open in a sigh as his cock slowly sinks into him. Two sets of hands soothe Zuko as he adjusts to the delicious stretch, twin voices praising how well he’s doing, and Zuko can only groan in reply, breathing through it. 

Being fully filled by Sokka’s cock always feels so right, so stupidly and thoroughly perfect in a way that makes him both soft and maddeningly horny. That familiar, pleasant buzz settles under his skin, and while there aren’t many thoughts to be had in this moment, there’s always that looming question of whether Sokka is going to take him apart with measured, sensual thrusts, or fuck him with animalistic, reckless abandon. 

Even with a sword to his throat, Zuko would be hard pressed to articulate which one he prefers. It’s always whatever Zuko needs in the moment, and Sokka always manages to deliver. 

Only now it’s the Councilman’s cock buried inside of him. The Sokka from his timeline is kneeling in front of him, brushing his hair out of his face and telling him how fucking perfect he looks like this, how Sokka adores the pretty sounds he makes.

“There you go,” the Councilman coos, slightly strained. “Lovely, fucking look at you, baby.”

“Feels good,” Zuko knows how much communication means to him. He whines lowly when the Councilman gives a cursory tilt of his hips, testing the stretch, then a slightly higher sound is punched out of him when the Councilman snaps forward this time. 

Zuko braces himself, spreading his legs a bit wider. The next thrust jerks him across Sokka’s lap, and Zuko falters in his effort to rock back onto the Councilman’s cock on-rhythm. 

The Councilman curses lowly, fingers digging deliciously into Zuko’s hips. Sokka caresses Zuko’s hair, and Zuko eagerly nuzzles back against the hand. He meets Sokka’s affectionate stare, almost melts when his expression gives way to a big smile that, frankly, should seem out of place during sex. 

Only it doesn’t, because it’s Sokka. His Sokka.

A second hand lands in his hair and pulls . Sokka’s hand falls away, and Zuko’s left to scramble to get his hands under him when the Councilman uses the grip to pull him up. Zuko cries out at the delightful burn in his scalp, the sound shifting to a throaty groan when the hold spears him onto the Councilman’s cock, the new angle making him shiver. The Councilman’s thrusts are sharp and hard, precise as the silky words that fall from his mouth to land beside Zuko’s ear. 

“Darling,” he says, the smile clear in his voice. “As much as I love hearing your pretty sounds, I believe we had other plans for that mouth of yours.”

Zuko nods against the hold, mouth dry. Sokka curses somewhere below him, the weight of the bed shifting. 

Of course he remembered, he’d been thinking about this for weeks, even if he didn’t allow himself to acknowledge it. Instead, the Oh that’s punched out of him comes more like a soft whine, when the Councilman marries a deep thrust with a nip at his ear. 

The Councilman loosens his hold, fingers uncurling just a bit from his hair. But instead of releasing him completely, the Councilman then pushes his head down, with measured pressure as his hips slow to a complete stop. It allows Zuko to adjust his posture on the way down, arching his back in a way that’s, visually, well worth the slightly awkward positioning. Sokka watches him with hungry eyes, slowly stroking himself until Zuko’s lips are close enough to replace his hand. 

Zuko licks his lips, then tilts his head to mouth at Sokka’s cock as soon as he’s released. Sokka groans above him, as the Councilman resumes pounding into him, his hands gripping Zuko’s hips once again. 

It’s really hard to stay focused like this, with his arousal so hard against his belly and so far away from a source of friction, but Zuko manages. He wraps a hand around Sokka’s cock, stroking slowly and pointedly so that Sokka can get a good view of Zuko mouthing at his balls. Zuko’s not the only one who makes sexy sounds, as demonstrated by Zuko when he sucks just so and earns that throaty, broken groan from Sokka. Zuko repeats the act, switching to the other side when Sokka’s cry turns desperate.

“And I’m the tease,” Sokka breathes. 

Zuko grins at this, licking a stripe up the length of Sokka’s cock. “You are,” Zuko says mirthfully. “Hence why I’m returning the favor.” 

“You did not just use ‘hence’ in the bedroom.”

“And if I did?” The thought is broken off when a measured thrust has Zuko seeing stars. He likes to think he recovers well enough, his brattiness only slightly compromised by his near breathlessness. “What’re you gonna do about it?” he smirks.

This time when Sokka takes a hold of his hair, it’s far from a caress, and much more reminiscent of the grip his older self had taken earlier. Zuko licks his lips again, eyes falling to Sokka’s cock before meeting his gaze again. “Apparently,” Sokka says. “Give you what you deserve.”

And with that, Sokka guides Zuko’s head down. Zuko eagerly parts his lips to allow himself to sink over Sokka’s cock, humming around its familiar girth. 

“Fuck,” Sokka curses, holding him down at the base for a moment. “Shit, Zuko, I’ll never get over that little trick of yours… fuck.”

“Always been so talented,” the Councilman chimes in, half breathless himself. “So fucking good for us, baby.”

Zuko whines at the praise, and Sokka shudders beneath him. 

“Okay, okay,” Sokka breathes. He takes a minute to adjust himself, temporarily pulling Zuko off of him so that he can come up to a kneel on the bed. He lines himself up in front of Zuko’s mouth again, testing the range of motion. “Ready?”

Zuko answers by parting his lips, exhaling hotly before Sokka eases forward again.

For one delicious, surreal moment, both of his lovers are motionless inside him, and Zuko is full to the brim. 

Who gives a flying fuck if Zuko ever learns a damned thing about time travel, so long as he gets to have moments like this, where he gets to be lovingly used by two men who happen to both be the one man that he loves more than anything. 

The euphoria doesn’t die down. Even as the two men struggle to find a pace that matches the other, with a few mis-slides and pauses to adjust, Zuko is still coming apart at the seams. 

The Councilman continues to strike against his prostate often and relentlessly, pressing bruises into his hips and jerking Zuko’s body to meet him. Sokka matches his energy, fucking Zuko’s throat and bringing tears to his eyes when Zuko misses a breath. 

Tragically, there’s not much to see like this, so Zuko closes his eyes to enjoy the other sensations overwhelming him. Twin voices, both labored and rough and still music to his ears, praising him, cursing at the clench of Zuko’s body. Two sets of hands, one more callused and knowingly rougher than the other set, anchoring themselves with nothing but Zuko’s skin and hair as a mooring. Two fucking cocks… fuck. 

Zuko’s own hums and groans ring loudest in his ears, followed by the vulgar off-beat sounds of their bodies coming together.

It’s too much. It’s too much, but it’s also just right, and… fuck, friction or not, Zuko’s going to come like this, isn’t he? Spit-roasted between two of the same lover, differing in age and experience but certainly not in passion. 

No sooner does the thought enter his mind, does the Councilman’s pace start to falter. He regains it quickly, this time shifting his attention to slow, deep thrusts that are guaranteed to send Zuko barreling over the edge shortly. Agni knows he’s pretty fucking worked up already. 

There’s a curious moment, just before Zuko comes hard with a smothered cry, where Sokka releases him and the Councilman seems to nearly lose balance behind him. 

And then it’s suddenly over like it never happened. Any perceived quiet that Zuko thought he detected drowns away into the white noise. All hands are on him as if they never weren’t, easing Zuko down with soft words and gentle caresses. 

The Councilman stays only for a quick cuddle, though he patiently waits for Zuko to finish off Sokka with his mouth before Zuko turns to tuck himself against the Councilman’s chest.

It seems unfair to want more at a time like this, when he’s already experienced the impossible… twice, but Zuko can’t help it. He wishes he could fall asleep with both men wrapped around him, consequences be damned. 

But that would be a huge risk to his beloved, so Zuko will just have to deal without it. 

Before he leaves, the Councilman pulls Zuko in for a slow, sweet kiss, and Zuko can’t help but melt. Can’t help but remember the tenderness with which the man had kissed his neck and silently told him forever.

Even if the Councilman never makes it back to their timeline again, Zuko knows he’ll meet him again, and love him always.

Zuko stretches his limbs when the Councilman goes, feeling delightfully satisfied, and turns back into Sokka’s arms. He holds his lover's gaze, unable to hold back the smile splitting his cheeks. 

“Have I told you,” he starts, tracing a circle over Sokka’s heart. “That I love you?” 

Sokka, as expected, grins widely, his eyes filled to the brim with the same emotion that Zuko feels swelling inside of him. “Yeah,” he replies. “But feel free to tell me again.”

Zuko snorts, but indulges him by saying it anyway. “I love you.”

“And I love you ,” Sokka reminds, tapping his nose. “I take it you enjoyed your birthday gift?”

“Hmmmm, yeah,” Zuko sighs, nuzzling against his pillow-slash-Sokka’s arm. “The best.”

“Good,” Sokka smiles. He leans forward, stealing a sweet kiss of his own, then reaching up to play with Zuko’s hair. “Glad that we could come through for you.”

Zuko hums his appreciation of Sokka’s combing through his hair, allowing his eyes to close against the sensation. They enjoy a comfortable moment of silence before a thought makes Zuko nearly chuckle. “Can’t wait to take down that stupid note tomorrow,” he says, grinning. “I was so relieved none of the servants ever asked about it.”

“We have to leave it up,” Sokka kisses his head, his tone apologetic. “To remind me, remember?” 

Zuko opens his eyes, his lip curling downward into a confused frown. “But it already happened,” he says, poking his chest. “I very much got fucked by him, and I am not creative enough to dream that up.”

“Zuko, the reminder is for future me, taking it down might disrupt the timeline.”

Zuko huffs, pointedly hugging Sokka closer to him. “I’ll never understand this time travel shit.”

Leaving their bedroom then, only to arrive in their bedroom now is an odd experience. So much is the same, so much is different.  

Here, Sokka isn’t the Councilman. He’s Sokka, Councilman for Republic City, uncle to 3 crazy kids and Zuko’s husband. 

Unsurprisingly, said husband is waiting up for him. As soon as he notices Sokka’s presence, Zuko sets down his book and smiles fondly at him. Sokka immediately crosses the room to greet his love, and Zuko cups his cheek when Sokka leans in to kiss him.  

“Welcome back,” Zuko says, his golden eyes stunning in the candlelight. 

“Miss me?” Sokka teases, chewing his lip in faux-anticipation. 

“Only because you wanted me to,” Zuko replies, pouting slightly. “I thought you said you could come back to the moment after you left?”

“Gave myself a little wiggle room,” Sokka stands fully, making his way to the wardrobe. “Last thing I needed was to show up before I left and fuck everything up.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sokka can hear the eye roll from over his shoulder as he hangs up his outermost robes. “Now get back over here.”

Sokka smiles, turning to him and pulling a face that says Don’t rush me! He closes the doors to the wardrobe with a gentle click, is halfway to his side of the bed, when he remembers.

He swivels back across the room, plucking the several years old note from the wall and half skipping to his side of the bed. He drops the note into Zuko’s hand, then shimmies under the covers.

“About damn time,” Zuko grumbles, immediately igniting it. “Really got sick of looking at that thing.” 

Zuko closes his fist, and when he reopens it, there aren’t even the slightest remnants of ashes in his palm. 

When Sokka snorts at Zuko’s triumph, his husband turns his gaze to regard Sokka fully. It’s hard to miss the way concern washes over his features, brow furrowing and golden eyes watching him carefully. “Does it hurt?” he asks, brushing his fingers across Sokka’s temple.

“Not yet,” Sokka assures, taking the hand and pressing a kiss to Zuko’s knuckles. “It’s only temporary… no big deal. Honest.”

Zuko eyes him skeptically, because of course he remembers when Sokka went through it the first time— the process of remembering, of the two sets of memories coming together all at once. He’s tried and failed many times to articulate the feeling. Of seeing yourself whilst watching you watch your other self as that other self. 

Of seeing yourself touching fire from far away but also feeling the burn against your palm. 

After that brief fallout, they’d decided that Sokka wouldn’t try going back again for another few months until they had a better grasp on what the long term effects might be.

Other than a few hyperreal dreams of the event, nothing lingered and no other nasty side-effects reared their ugly heads. 

It hasn’t hit him yet, so Sokka figures he still has about another five minutes or so before it catches up to him. He fills the time by pulling Zuko into a deep kiss, sinking into the familiar rhythm and passionate embrace of his love. Sokka’s always felt that kissing is a very effective means of communication. Even all these years later, Sokka is so proud of them both for figuring out how to communicate using words. It had been so difficult at first, until that first milestone assured them both that they can talk to each other without fear of how the words would be received 

They had mastered the art of communicating their feelings through their lips much earlier. That had come naturally, and without much thought to it, honestly. 

Still, there’s at least one thing that Sokka can’t tell Zuko with his tongue alone.

And sometimes, old habits die hard.

“Am I a better kisser now then I was back then?” Sokka asks, keeping a playful edge to his voice.

Zuko sees right through it. “Yes...” he says slowly. “But you already knew that. So… why are you asking now?”

Sokka taps his fingers against his own thigh, counting down in his mind. “Just wondering...” he begins. “...which version of me enjoyed our kiss more.”

Golden eyes go wide, then narrow sharply before a book collides with the side of Sokka’s head. 

“Ow!” he cries.

“You kissed him?” 

“He kissed me!”

“And you, what, waited 17 years to mention this??” Zuko demands, fairly. “Why?”

“Okay, there was definitely a reason,” Sokka says, holding his hands up in the hopes of deflecting the next potential swat from Zuko. “I don’t remember it yet.” 

Zuko drops his head into his hands, groaning his frustration.

This is why Zuko will never agree to go back with him. Just talking about it riles him up sometimes. 

He watches as Zuko tries to compose himself, smoothing his hair out of his face. After a moment, he tries again. “Why didn’t you prevent him from doing it?” he asks. “What about those catastrophic consequences that you went on and on about?”

“Because I didn’t know he was going to do it,” Sokka insists. “Remember? When I’m there, I experience it like it’s my first time.”

This has been a struggle to explain as well. To himself, even. Because while he knows he remembered it from his younger self’s perspective before he traveled back, the second he arrived, his memory of the night started anew. Just like last time. 

He theorizes that it’s his brain trying to protect him, that it would be too much to experience it whilst already holding the memories of the previous time he was there. It’s something that he’s especially thankful for, considering that when his past-self’s perspective slams back into his skull, there’s a good chance that it’ll hurt more than the time before. 

“I’ll never understand this time travel shit,” Zuko mutters, setting his book down again.

And then it all comes rushing back.

Sokka was right. It does hurt even worse this time. Fucking shit. He squeezes his eyes against the onslaught of memories, but they keep coming in furious flashes, threading together and mingling with his existing memories. 

Zuko surges forward to press warm fingers against his head and soothe away some of the pain. 

It lasts about 6 minutes, by Zuko’s count. Which makes sense, since the previous time there, Sokka only stayed for about 45 minutes. This time was much longer, so naturally there was a bit more to remember. 

When he comes back to reality, the pain fully subsided, he does so laughing, which immediately causes Zuko further alarm.

“What?” he demands, pressing the back of his hand to Sokka’s forehead. “Sokka, what?”

“That brilliant little shit,” Sokka manages between the bouts of laughter. “I remember why I didn’t tell you before now.”

Zuko relaxes considerably, as evidenced by the mild annoyance slipping into his expression. “And?”

Sokka forces himself to calm down, but it takes a second. He takes a deep breath, looks at Zuko, and explains. “He was worried about what the fallout might be if you found out before now,” he says. “Figures you wouldn’t let me come back if you knew before we had the chance to figure out what the consequences might be.”

Now Zuko crosses his arms. “And that’s funny because…”

“Because it’s classic Sokka,” he cries, laughing again. “Typical me, putting something off for seventeen fucking years. He actively chose to make it my problem instead of his. Un-fucking-believable.” 

Zuko doesn’t join him in laughing, but he does agree that he’s no longer surprised about how his past self managed to deal with this, by not dealing with it.

With a huff, Zuko rolls over, telling him that his necklace is under his pillow. It takes a lot of kisses and nuzzling and puppy dog eyes to get Zuko to turn again to help Sokka put his necklace back on. But eventually, he gets him to curl into the circle of his arms, and chat more about their shared memories before starting to drift off to sleep.

What Sokka doesn’t tell Zuko, is that as much as it was an impulse decision to kiss his older self way back then, it was also a bit of an experiment. A hypothesis that could only be tested one way. A risky way, but one that will almost certainly yield results soon enough.

Only time will tell if this was the correct decision, but Sokka can’t find it in him to hold a grudge toward that little shit. He was, and still is, a man of science, after all. 

The note tucked into the holster of his boomerang is something that will be addressed later.