Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Succumbed again, did we?”

“Oh, you know,” Sokka says, half-breathless as he drops his purchases at the corner of the bar countertop, shaking out his arms—it’s so much easier when Zuko is along, too—and inhaling the bright, overlapping smell of freshly brewing tea. “There’s just—”

“—so many interesting things on the walk over,” all the chefs behind the countertop chorus.

“And a little shopping never hurt anyone,” Rozun finishes, leaning to give Sokka a pointed look around the pile of packages and bags and parcels even as the chef reaches to grab a canister of Sokka’s favorite oolong.

“It isn’t hurting you, is it?” Sokka sniffs back, making a show of deliberately nudging the pile to obscure Rozun again and earning himself a round of laughter from behind the counter. Every person who works here is well aware of how much money Sokka has been spending camping out in the teashop over the past two weeks. Sokka is well aware of how much money he’s been spending here over the past two weeks—and in the market, too, a man can only walk the same gauntlet so many times before succumbing. And if he weren’t aware, the teasing from the chefs every day about his purchases and from Zuko every night about Sokka’s new teashop paramour who keeps plying him with gifts would certainly keep Sokka well-informed of that fact.

Though in fairness, Sokka is pretty sure Zuko’s teasing is mostly because he likes all the things Sokka’s been thinking up in answer to show Zuko that there’s no one but him on Sokka’s mind. And Sokka is certainly very appreciative of what seems to be Zuko’s new game of seeing how many times he can make Sokka gasp out his name by the end of the night.

Rozun’s teasing is definitely because he thinks he’s hilarious.

Sokka unfortunately agrees.

And besides, Sokka is also aware that he’s very much in a situation of his own making—part of what Zuko finds so hilarious. He could just ask for help and probably find who he’s looking for within the day, it’s not like Zhei was trying to be unnoticed when Sokka last saw her—fading into the background isn’t exactly in the spirit of being a walking advertisement for a new appearance-based business.

But somehow, Sokka doesn’t think having the royal guard or, Spirits forbid, Azula show up on a person’s doorstep is the way to start things off on balanced skates when he’s technically asking for a favor. So instead, he’s showing up in the one place he’s sure Zhei has been in the hopes that she’ll come back again. And if he has to sit through comments about pining and being love-struck and his inability to walk past the second-hand shops without wandering into one, well, it's not like getting the Fire Lord a new hairdresser wasn’t going to be an ordeal one way or another.

And the quality tea and tasty snacks certainly make this one bearable. As does the shopping.

“Puffs today,” Rozun’s voice comes from around the wall of purchases as he slides one of the tasty snacks in question around the pile, a plate of golden-brown pastries that could have come right out of the Lower Ring. “We’re trying out some local fillings. And I think today’s your lucky day.”

“Because you’re going to burn my tastebuds out again?” Sokka asks, gamely popping a puff into his mouth. Nothing like trial by fire—ha—to build his tolerance back up.

“Because—” Rozun leans across the counter to give him a dry look. “—I think that’s your lady love in the corner.”

Sokka blinks, for a second wondering who...—then he jerks upright, hastily swallowing his thankfully not-too-spicy puff as he leans around his shopping haul to see exactly the towering architecture of hair he’s been looking for.

“That your girl?” Rozun asks, all faux-casual like he and the rest of the chefs haven’t been eating up the saga they’ve imagined for themselves of Sokka’s pining, love-at-first-sight romance.

“That’s her,” Sokka grins, straightening as Zhei glances up from chatting with a young couple in the corner to give him a bright smile and a little wave of—gratifying—recognition.  

“She likes lightly sweetened tea and always orders kebabs,” one of the other chefs murmurs as they slide over Sokka’s usual pot of oolong, voice hushed and eyes more fixed on Zhei’s approach than on what they’re doing as they nearly push the tea right into Sokka’s lap. “Sometimes she has purple berry blossoms in her hair, but usually its braids and ribbon.” Did the chefs start keeping notes on all their customers to be ready? Oh, Sokka is definitely going to tease them back. “Once it was leather,” they add with a significant glance for Sokka’s own leatherbound hair before they finally dart back to their station with an excited, fervent, “Good luck.”

“A girl might think you’ve been looking for her, with a welcome like that,” Zhei says as she sidles up to the counter and into his space, batting her eyelashes, smile flirtatious and amused as leans around Sokka’s purchases to throw a wink at the departing chef.

“Maybe I have been,” Sokka grins as an actual squeak sounds from the other side of his shopping wall, nudging over his plate of puffs in silent invitation.

Zhei hums, her eyes flicking to the food and then to his hair, her hands—with painted nails, this time, Sokka wonders if Azula’s style is catching—staying relaxed and still against the wooden countertop. “Wanted to talk beads, did you?”

“Or clients,” Sokka suggests instead. Though he can certainly add a question about beadmakers to his next letter South. Bato would probably know…

“Yourself?” She gives him another look, lingering on his hair and sweeping down his body to his dusty boots. “Don’t get me wrong, your hair is wonderful. But we’re really trying to get palace people, you know? We want to drum up some exclusive interest at the start.”

It would be rude to laugh, it really would be, and after the mess of Azula’s coronation Sokka will take it as a compliment that he doesn’t register as palace people to her.

“Rare materials, rare skills, rare people,” she’s explaining, apologetic. “If you want something simple, maybe…but the perception of rarity can create a lot of buzz and demand, and right now we’re really focused on our core—”

“I didn’t mean me,” Sokka cuts in, unable to entirely bite back his smile. “Someone else.”

She cocks her head, the tower of her hair somehow leaning without even a hint of a wobble. “Someone else?” she echoes, her gaze going bright with interest and speculation as she takes another considering pass from his hair to the basic white linen of his wrist wraps today, plain in deference to the time spent this morning distracting Zuko rather than getting dressed.

“Someone else,” Sokka confirms, unbothered by her skepticism when going unnoticed is basically the point of most of his Caldera outfits. “I wanted to see how it usually works, first, though. Do you and your sister have a storefront? Another business you work out of? Do you do consultations or upfront contracts, or…?”

“…Someone in the palace?” Her lips are half-curled like she’s waiting for the punchline of Sokka’s joke.

“Yes, in the palace,” Sokka says, rolling his eyes and ticking the requirements off his fingers one by one, “In the palace, definitely exclusive, trendsetter, grabs attention at parties, good hair—” Great hair, actually, in Sokka’s opinion. “—is willing to do interesting things with it. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“It is,” she says after a moment, eyeing him before straightening a little, a cheerful kind of professionalism sliding her over face. “Me and Lei are still getting a shopfront set up, so we can come to—"

“Can we actually come to you?” Sokka interrupts, offering a shrug and his winningest smile when she gives him a questioning look. “You know how palace people are,” he offers, and she lets out a little snort of laughter.

“Oh, do I ever,” she says, reaching to grab a menu and a stick of charcoal from down the bar to jot down a date, time, and instructions, the characters crisp and sharp and her voice going low and confidential. “Did you hear what everyone is saying after the coronation? Word on the street is, the Crown Princess might have a Water Tribe lover too!”

--

“You know,” Zuko says, arching against the bed and feeling the stretch from his shoulders all the way down to his feet, almost as good as a second orgasm, “I could help more with picking an outfit if I knew what the plan was.”

“I told you,” Sokka calls from the depths of Zuko’s closet, “We’re going into Caldera.”

“To eat?” Zuko asks, enjoying the slow, contented flip of his inner fire. “To run around on the roofs? To go shopping?”

Sokka pops his head out of the closet to give Zuko a flat look. “You dress the same for all of that.”

Zuko raises his eyebrow and smirks as Sokka’s gaze immediately wavers and dips down, lingering. The sheets might have shifted and pooled in ways Sokka tends to find interesting when Zuko stretched. Purely an accident, of course. “And yet, you’re still struggling.”

Sokka somehow manages to hit him with a narrow-eyed look without actually looking away from Zuko’s body, the heat of him bright and steady against Zuko’s fire sense. “I’m not the one who has a closet big enough to put a bed in.”

“No,” Zuko agrees, smiling beatifically as he flexes his foot to drag the sheet a strategic inch or two downward. “You just wish you did.” 

Which earns him a pair of plain, basic pants smacking him in the face with impressive aim and velocity from across the room and Sokka leaping onto him at similar speed right behind. Zuko grunts around his laughter as Sokka crushes them both down into the mattress, bracing himself against the sudden weight and jerking with a surprised shout when Sokka’s fingers suddenly find the sensitive, ticklish spot along Zuko’s ribs.

“Distraction!” Zuko manages to gasp out, breathless with laughter as he tries to twist away and fend off Sokka’s seeking fingers. “This is pure distraction!”

“This is justice!” Sokka shouts as he chases Zuko across the bed, cool fingers finding ribs and the back of knees and trying to sneak under arms.

“You have no answer—” Zuko yelps, choking on a laugh and trying to wriggle up the bed. “—So you resort to—” Another uncontrollable fit of laughter before Zuko manages to throw himself away. “—deception and tricks!”

“Don’t think you can giggle your way out of this one just because you’re cute,” Sokka says, mock threatening, following, and Zuko finally manages to catch Sokka’s hands and find leverage with his feet against the mattress and heave Sokka up and onto his side. Sokka immediately tries to tug him off balance and Zuko’s inner flame is bright in his chest as they tussle across the mattress, pressing their bodies together and enjoying the slide of skin against skin as much as fighting for leverage and position.

Zuko finally finds himself flat on his back with Sokka pinning his wrists and straddling his hips, his thighs pressed tight to keep Zuko from wriggling away. Sokka’s hair is mussed and loose again, his face lit with triumph and flushed with exertion as he grins down at Zuko, body flexed and tense with readiness and gilded in morning light and Zuko remembers all over again that they have the whole day ahead of them and decides that really, on his back with Sokka hovering over him is a rather nice place to be. 

“None of that,” Sokka says, apparently catching the direction of Zuko’s thoughts on his face. “We have a schedule to keep.”

“Do we?” Zuko asks, shoving up a bit, testing Sokka’s weight against his groin, testing Sokka’s commitment to that schedule.

“Yes,” Sokka says, squeezing his knees a bit tighter in warning.

Zuko lets a bit of heat pool under his palms and twists his wrists, flipping his grip so now he’s the one holding onto Sokka. “Do we really?”

Sokka’s lashes flutter a bit, the air sighing out of him, then, “Yes.” He tugs free, Zuko letting go in favor of taking advantage of their position to lean up for a quick kiss that turns into something lingering and slow, something open-mouthed and wet and— “Okay, really though,” Sokka says, breaking away to glance toward the window. “We do have to meet them on time.”

“Who are we meeting?” Zuko asks, sitting up to swing his legs over the edge of the bed without moving Sokka from his lap, enjoying the press of cool skin against his torso and the feel of Sokka’s thighs under his hands and the easy way Sokka lets himself be moved.

“It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise date?” Zuko asks, finally getting out of bed and deciding to just take Sokka with him. Sokka hums his appreciation and gives Zuko a quick, chaste kiss before abruptly leaning sideways, Zuko letting out a surprised huff and nearly staggering against the shift of weight as Sokka stretches to snag the pants off the bed that he apparently intended as more than just ammunition.

“We can do date night after,” Sokka says as he comes back upright, wrapping his legs more securely around Zuko’s waist and an arm around Zuko’s shoulders and waving for Zuko to go.

“Date day?” Zuko tests, hopeful, as he takes them to the closet. Any day he can spend with Sokka is a good day, especially one where his schedule has been cleared. But after the stress of the coronation and missing out on their usual time together after so many months apart, after coup attempts and more political backstabbing than Zuko ever wanted Sokka to have to deal with, after so much attention lately needing to go to sisters and soothing concerned international dignitaries and convincing himself—and Agni’s tits, Hakoda, that was a conversation—that decking certain members of the Northern Water Tribe delegation in the face would be more trouble than it was worth in the long run—

After all that, Zuko really wants a day that can be just for them. He doesn’t care if it’s being anonymous in the city together or people watching from roofs or chasing down good smells to hole-in-the-wall noodle shops or stealing kisses and cuddles by the turtle duck pond. He just wants to hold Sokka’s hand and hear about his latest ideas and take advantage of having all the time they could want to take Sokka apart when the mood strikes.

An idea that is becoming increasingly compelling with Sokka naked and in his arms and pressed against him in very interesting ways, and Zuko probably needs to start thinking about something else if he doesn’t want to make them late for whatever Sokka has planned.

“Sure,” Sokka says, mouth quirking into a smile. “How long can it take? Let’s call it a date day.”

Zuko hums, intrigued—he saw that considering-plans look in Sokka’s eyes—inner fire pressing up against his skin toward Sokka as he presses his own smile to Sokka’s lips in a quick kiss. “So what should I dress for, then?”

Sokka pauses with his mouth open, eyes narrowing. “You’re not going to get it out of me,” he accuses, wiggling out of Zuko’s arms and diving back into the closet, Zuko raising his hands in mock innocence and grinning at his back. Zuko is more than happy to go with the flow today—Sokka’s plans generally end well for him—and delight in the teasing, happy mood sparking between them.

Though he does make sure to speak up for fewer fasteners on his clothes rather than more, when the opportunity presents itself. They have a whole day ahead of them, after all, and an entire city full of roofs and alleys for them to disappear into if the mood strikes.

--

“I’m just saying—”

“You’ve said!”

“—that we go to a teashop that looks like its straight out of the Upper Ring—”

“It’s a style!”

“—and you get some ‘mysterious note’ to another address because ‘someone was running behind’—”

“We were supposed to meet there!”

“—and now we’re cutting through back alleys to—” Zuko pauses to take in the building, wide and nondescript, with a worn but well-maintained look and cheerful clamor of living coming from the open windows. Still, he has a point to make, “—to some apartment that’s probably up a rickety, dim flight of stairs—”

“These stairs are very solid,” Sokka says, demonstrating that fact as he stomps his way up them, consulting the paper in his hand.

“And it’s basically lunch time,” Zuko says, even though they’re still a bit away from that yet.

“We can eat after!”

“And I’m just saying—” Zuko grins when Sokka whirls around to glare at him. “—that if you wanted to relieve some olden days and pretend we’re back in Ba Sing Se, you could have let me know. I could have found an apron,” he adds, delighting in the way Sokka blushes.

“I said we had an appointment,” Sokka huffs, turning back around and making his way up again, Zuko perfectly content to trail behind and admire Sokka’s ass. “That’s where we’re going. An appointment.”

“A dick appointment.”

“A hair appointment.”

“Right. An appointment for your hair and my hands and—”

“No, that—” Sokka glances around, then blatantly down at Zuko’s groin. “Later, okay? There’s definitely time later.”

“So we do have a dick appointment today,” Zuko says, smug and crowding up behind Sokka as they come into a wide hallway bright-lit by the mid-morning sun.

Sokka glares over his shoulder but doesn’t pull away.

“A dick appointment that’s in the schedule,” Zuko teases, sing-songing the words a little.

Sokka glares more.

“Did you pencil in time to get sucked off between lunch and shopping? Or were you planning on a quickie before—”

“Sokka!” a voice suddenly calls out as the door next to them bursts open. “You made it!”

--

Sokka is amused by how quickly Zuko snaps his mouth shut and steps back, dragging on a face like ice wouldn’t melt in his mouth except for the slight flush to his cheeks. Serves him right if he gave himself blue balls. As if Sokka wouldn’t have numerous plans to take full advantage of a free day together.

“Sorry if we’re late,” Sokka says, turning back to Zhei and shifting slightly to the side in case Zuko needs a moment to settle himself. “Got a little turned around finding the place.”

Zhei waves that away with an easy shrug, looking past Sokka to Zuko. “This is the client?”

“Potentially,” Sokka says because he doesn’t want to get any hopes up or commit anyone to anything when he knows how picky Zuko can be—with good reason—about the people who get to come into his space.

Zhei flicks her hand, confidence in the tilt of her chin. “Sorry I couldn’t meet you,” she says, gesturing them inside, “I got a surprise lead on some great ribbon this morning, dye like you wouldn’t believe, and—” She chatters as she ushers them both down the hall. The room they emerge into is larger than Sokka expected and clearly used more for business than living, tables shoved to the walls covered in papers and pins, boxes in neat, indecipherable stacks between them and rows of wigs in various stages of creation scattered about, with a little corner carved out for a chair and vanity and mirror.

“Client?” Zuko asks, low, eyes flicking around as he takes it all in.

“I told you, it’s a hair appointment,” Sokka says, prim, before taking pity and leaning close to whisper, “But we can reminisce later. Promise.” He loves when Zuko gets playful, and the possibility of an apron making a reappearance… 

“So this is your friend who works in the palace?” Zhei says before Zuko can do more than send Sokka a hot look in response, knocking on a closed door as she gives Zuko an assessing glance that lingers on the simple, plain tail he has his hair pulled back into.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Zuko says after a beat, openly staring at Zhei’s hair—it's rather wide, today—back and Sokka can practically see the absolutely not forming beneath Zuko’s neutral politeness.

Zhei hums, considering Zuko a moment longer. “Great cheekbones,” she finally says, absent, eyes on his hair.

Zuko blinks. “Thanks?” he says, shooting Sokka a bemused look, and Sokka just grins back.

“You’re welcome,” she says, shaking herself out of whatever hair reverie she just went into. “I’m Zhei. Part of Zhei and Lei Fine Hair Styling and Design.” The name, Sokka notices, has changed. “You need a hairdresser, then?”

“Lee,” Zuko answers easily, his usual cover no matter how many disguises and backstories Sokka comes up with for him. “And as of a few weeks ago, yeah.”

Zhei makes a face of sympathy, the one everyone seems to make whenever the coronation is referenced. “You came to the right place then, me and Lei—” Another bang on that closed door, and a muffled “hold on already” in answer. “—are the best spot in the city for hair! And let me say, after that business at the coronation, a lot of people are suddenly looking for new hair, and who can blame them? All those boring topknots—no offense.”

“None taken,” Zuko murmurs, straight-faced, but Sokka can see the amusement in the crinkle of his eyes. “It’s not my usual style,” he says, absently touching his hair.

“I completely understand why not,” Zhei says, totally earnest, and Sokka muffles a cough as he turns around so he doesn’t risk eye contact with Zuko and having them both burst out laughing. “But with even the Crown Princess seen with a bead in her hair, and rumor is even a braid, everyone wants them now. And we’re the place to be.” Her shoulders are back, proud. “That’s why I had to rush to the market today,” she adds, relaxing a little even as her words go fast and exited. “We have only the best and sourcing has just gotten that much more cutthroat. Why, Sozu thought he could edge in on my business and I wouldn’t notice, as if—”

“So who do you work with, again?” Zuko interrupts with the ease of someone used to redirecting not-so-casual conversation at fetes and dinners.

“We’re a new operation,” a brisk, businesslike voice answers as that door across the room finally opens and someone—Lei, presumably—comes steps out, wiping off her hands as her gaze flicks over them both before lingering on Sokka, brown eyes sharp against her makeup. “You do your own hair?”

“Yeah,” Sokka says, firmly pretending not to see the look Zuko is giving him. Sokka might have spent more than his usual time on his hair this morning.

Lei purses her lips. “Anyone else’s?”

“Not professionally.”

A grunt, then, “Nice hairpin.”

Sokka smiles, reaching up to touch the little piece Zuko made for him years ago. “It’s one of my favorites,” he says for the pleasure of seeing Zuko blush.

“It’s unique,” Zhei says, shifting to get a better look. “Not a style I see often.” 

“It is,” Sokka agrees, preening a bit and mostly watching Zuko be quietly flustered. “One of a kind.” 

“Did you get it in Caldera?” she asks, voice bright.

“Technically speaking,” Sokka shrugs, blinking when her eyes suddenly narrow, her focus going sharp.

“An import?” she presses, body tense and poised like she’s ready to cast her spear on a hunt.

“It was a gift,” Sokka says slowly, wondering at the nerves on that Sozu guy to think he could edge her out of a deal. “I—”

“So,” Zuko interrupts, clearing his throat. “A new operation. Does that mean you don’t have clients yet?”

Lei transfers her attention off Sokka’s hair to give him a level, even look before finally offering, “Minister Aikaruh. Lady Omoza. Captain Roza.” All minor politicians and junior ministers, if Sokka is thinking of the right people.

Zuko nods, slow. “Minister Aikaruh’s hair was rather…elaborate, the last time I saw them.”

“Which suits their style,” Zhei jumps in, clearly sensing Zuko’s reticence. “But it’s not all about the size or color or extravagance, of course.”

“Sometimes it’s about working with what you have,” Lei agrees, and Zhei picks up the conversational thread again before Sokka and Zuko can do more than glance at each other, both holding back laughter over whether that was an oblique insult or not.

“Ribbons, beads, hairpieces, leather,” Zhei is saying, gesturing them over to a table set out with what Sokka realizes is samples. “You can convey a lot with the right choices and accessories, even if the style itself is simpler.” A nod for her sister, who is definitely wearing much simpler hair than Zhei. Though Sokka has the feeling it was no less intricate and technically complex to put together, just like Lei’s clothes don’t have any less sense of style and personality for all their clear consideration for practicality.

“Take what Sokka has there,” Zhei continues, and Sokka startles, glancing down at the ribbon he’s been absently playing with. “That’s not just any accent ribbon—it’s made in the Earth Kingdom, shipped by the Water Tribe, and we’re the only place in Caldera that stock is,” she says, clearly proud. “It’s something that we wouldn’t have seen in the city ten years ago, and maybe not even in the Outer Islands. And it’s not just a pretty thing, wearing something like this—” she plucks it neatly out of Sokka’s hands to hold up near Zuko’s face, her and Lei both tilting their heads as they take in the effect. “—lets people know you’re part of that, too. And that you have taste.”

“I definitely want that,” Zuko murmurs, amused, but Sokka can tell that he’s intrigued, shifting to look at what’s on display. And both sisters clearly sense it too—or just have a head for the sell—because Zhei starts whipping out sample books, Lei suggesting Zuko explore the offerings while she sets up to try a few simpler looks on him to see how he feels about it, and Sokka can recognize when he isn’t wanted or needed as Zuko gets drawn in, Fire Lord-politeness giving way to more genuine interest. 

Sokka quietly drifts to the side to let the sisters work, poking through beads and pins and admiring the ones he likes. Most of Sokka’s attention is on Zuko though, watching his reactions as Zhei chatters about the origins of each thing she places into his hands and what makes it special, her comments somehow ranging from trade policies—

“And with the Fire Lord’s new proposed tariffs, everyone is going to want something like this in a few months, mark my words, and if he gets the negotiations right the industry is going to boom.”

Zuko’s eyebrow ticks up, just a little, and Sokka bites back a smile.

—to local gossip—

"…and then Su Chen accused her of just wanting to get into a Kyoshi Warrior’s skirts, not actually caring about how they get their makeup so waterproof, can you believe it?”

Zuko shoots Sokka a sideways look, speculative and full of memory. Sokka flutters his eyelashes.

—to…education policy?

“…though how anyone thinks that will happen without cleaning up the school curriculum first is beyond me.”

“You really think that?” Zuko interrupts, momentarily open in his surprise.

Lei stills across the room, her head coming up, sharp, even as her face closes with reserve. “You don’t?”

“No, not—” Zuko blinks, clearly taken aback by her sudden coolness. “I mean, I do, I—”

“You’re not one of those huffy traditionalists, are you?” Zhei says in, eyes narrowed in suspicion, hands hovering almost protectively over her array of carefully sourced materials from all over the world.

“I mean.” Sokka can see Zuko dragging out the political nice-speaking he clearly didn’t think he’d have to use today. “There are many beloved traditions, and—”

“No,” Sokka cuts. “He isn’t. You aren’t,” he repeats when Zuko opens his mouth. Sokka didn’t spend the lead-up to the coronation trying desperately to read between the lines of things no one felt comfortable saying not to hear exactly what’s being said here. “Not the way they mean.”

Zuko eyes Sokka moment, then shrugs, subsiding, expression thoughtful as he goes back to poking through finely braided leather cords again. The sisters relax along with him, or maybe alongside Sokka’s reassurance, picking the conversation back up as if it was never interrupted.

“Anyway,” Zhei continues, “If Lord Yurom wants anyone to take him seriously, he’s going to need to—”

Lei snorts. “As if anyone would believe Lord Yurom is serious about overhauling any part of the standard curriculum.”

“You don’t know that,” Zhei sniffs, tossing her head—an interesting effect when not a bit of her hair actually moves.

“When Lord Yurom was seen with Councilor Ilan? At the coronation celebration?”

“Lots of people were seen with—"

“He’s clearly trying to make a statement.”

“A statement, not that statement.”

Sokka and Zuko exchange an amused look as the sisters start bickering—they both, Sokka thinks, can recognize the cadences of a familiar squabble picking up—and Sokka takes the opportunity to drift around the table to poke through the leather samples alongside Zuko.

“I didn’t realize Yurom was such a topic of interest,” he says under his breath.

“Me either,” Zuko says, somewhere between curious and rueful as he watches the sisters continue to argue, clearly fascinated.

“As if the Fire Lord would allow—”

“The Fire Lord doesn’t care about—”

“You don’t know what the Fire Lord cares about!”

“Know what I know the Fire Lord cares about?” Lei says, tight-lipped, focus entirely on her sister. Sokka can feel the way Zuko’s chest hitches as he tries to contain his laughter. “Not that.”

Zhei lets out an outraged huff, turning back to her samples in a swirl of fabrics and accessories as she pointedly sets out a new book of small, bright tassels for Zuko to examine. Lei rolls her eyes behind her back and turns back to setting up her own station, but the silence lasts only a moment before Zhei is chattering again, enthusing about the background and provenance behind everything Zuko touches and peppering her commentary with what Sokka is coming to realize is her usual free-flowing opinion.

There’s business talk—

“—but let me say, the method of transport does matter when salt water is involved and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. The price is high for a reason.”

“Of course,” Zuko murmurs, freezing a little before gingerly setting down the intricately embroidered ribbon in question

“Some people try to pass the stains off as intentional variation in the pattern,” Zhei scoffs, shaking her head. “Ridiculous.”

There’s industry news—

“—and Li Ton thought they could just imply it would be a dishonorable deal, as if they didn’t sign it and had never seen an Earth Kingdom contract before!”

Zuko makes an exasperated noise of sympathy. “Contracts are just as equally legally—”

“Legally binding in the Fire Nation, yes!” Zhei finishes along with him, triumphant. “Exactly what I told them. But did they listen?”

There’s so much pure gossip that Sokka can already tell he’s not going to remember it all by the time he gets back to the palace to send Suki a letter—

“—and she might think it doesn’t matter, but if she thinks her daughter’s actions won’t reflect back on her own honor, she’s going to be in for a rude awakening when the next spot on the committee opens up no matter how good her hair looks.”

Who, Sokka mouths to Zuko behind Zhei’s back, and Zuko just tilts his head a fraction, shoulder twitching—No idea.

There’s her opinion on the current administration and, obliquely, on the old—

“—Agni really has blessed us in her children,” Zhei says cheerfully, holding up a finely wrought headpiece for them to admire. “I would have never been able to source something like this under the old tariffs!”

Sokka leans in to murmur something to Zuko about feeling blessed—or maybe about Zuko praising Agni nice and loud last night—and bites his tongue, grinning, when Zuko flicks him in the shoulder without looking.

There are her thoughts on the royal family’s sartorial choices, which are going to give Sokka teasing material for days—

 “Something like this would be great for framing bangs, but—” Zhei holds up the wide headband in question, pursing her lips before shaking her head once, decisive. “It’s not everyone’s look.” 

“I’ve never had bangs,” Zuko shrugs, unbothered.

“You definitely had bangs,” Sokka says, giving him an incredulous look. “When your hair was so far in your eyes I could barely see your face? You could hide behind it.”

“Those weren’t bangs,” Zuko huffs. “I cut my own hair, of course, it wasn’t—"

“Never try to give yourself bangs,” Lei interjects from across the room, with feeling.

“A lot of people tried to do it at the beginning of the Fire Lord’s reign,” Zhei explains, shaking her head.

“You need training.”

“We wouldn’t,” Zhei says, firm, “Recommend it.”

Sokka finds it fascinating, the flashes—and sometimes small monologs—of someone else’s perspective on the palace. To hear layers of dense political argument filtered through the eyes of someone living in the changes day-to-day. To share sideways smiles and wide-eyed looks with Zuko, and hear Iroh and Azula and Zuko and sometimes even himself stripped down to a few details and reflected back in a way he’s never considered before.

Mostly, though, it’s fun to watch Zuko’s reactions—the barely-there twitch of his shoulders and expression, the barely-distinguishable difference in the pitch of his polite-listening noises that Sokka knows are covering agreement or amusement or the secret burning desire to know more about what, exactly, Lady Midori did in the shops last week that has the sisters looking at each other like that.

“Now these,” Zhei says, holding up a wide band dripping tassels that Sokka, after a blank moment, recognizes as a take on the Kyoshi Warriors’ headpieces, “Are brand new. Only a few are wearing them, but I think they’re going to take off.”

“I wouldn’t have expected anything so—” Sokka waves a hand. “—Kyoshi to get popular.” There were just six years of tension over the Warriors’ presence as Zuko’s guards, after all, a conflict that only ended a few weeks ago with the formal conclusion of their contract.

Zhei hums, leaning forward in that way of hers when she’s imparting something she thinks is particularly scandalous, and Zuko and Sokka lean in too on instinct. “Word is,” she says, dropping her tone even though it’s just them, “The Fire Lord was seen with a Kyoshi lover.”

Zuko eyes Sokka, eyebrow raised, and Sokka blows him a kiss from behind Zhei’s back, just as Lei makes a disapproving noise from across the room.

“You don’t like that?” Zuko asks, looking at her in surprise. 

“It’s not my business,” Lei says, her tone making it clear that it might not be her business but that doesn’t stop her from having opinions.

“The rumors of the Water Tribe lover, too,” Zhei puts in, and it takes Sokka a moment to realize that was meant to be an explanation.

“Lots of lovers are a problem?” Sokka asks, curious, flicking a surprised look toward Zuko. Not that it’s really come up relative to Zuko, but, well—Sokka’s had the impression that the Fire Nation isn’t generally all that prudish when it comes to sex as long as things are being done in private rather than public. Maybe it’s different for a Fire Lord?

“It’s an honor thing,” Zuko explains, adding when Sokka just gives him a blank look, “Fidelity, loyalty, promises made…”

“There’s nothing wrong with having your fun,” Zhei says, as much to Sokka as to her sister. “We don’t know who promised anyone anything.”

Lei sniffs, earning herself an eyeroll in return.

“You’re just mad because you wanted the rumors to be true.”

“Rumors?” Zuko asks, way too casual to sell it if either sister was actually paying attention to him.

“Rumors of a male Water Tribe lover,” Sokka whispers, leaning in like it's salacious and biting back a laugh when Zuko just opens his mouth and promptly closes it again.

Lei huffs, giving Sokka a considering look when he glances over. “That’s making its way all the way up to the palace too, now, is it?”

“You could say that,” Sokka grins, watching Zuko’s expression settle somewhere between trying not to laugh and a surprised kind of quiet pleasure.

Lei shrugs after a moment, beckoning Zhei over in some kind of consultation that Sokka is happy to leave them to in favor of poking through the samples alongside Zuko, picking out increasingly elaborate things that make Zuko roll his eyes and smile and very seriously considering the progressively more and more outrageous things Zuko picks out in return.

Sokka is in the process of wordlessly trying to sell Zuko on a set of finely wrought chains to cover his entire head when Lei waves Zhei away and raises her voice, back to her brisk, businesslike tone. “We are ready when you are—Master Lee, was it?”

Zhei is still rolling her eyes at her sister’s opinions as she comes back over, but her smile is as cheerful as ever as she leans against her sample table next to Sokka, starting to neaten up and pack away her supplies—though only, Sokka notes, the ones that Zuko didn’t take a liking to.

The chain-helmet-thing goes first.

“You’ve got quite the business going here,” Sokka says, impressed and unsurprised by her attention even when apparently distracted. “Did you have any luck finding someone to wear your styles for the coronation?”

“We got some buzz,” Zhei says, clearly excited about it. “We have to wait to see how it develops, but—” A happy shrug. “What about you, what do you think of the coronation?”

“Yeah Sokka,” Zuko says from where he’s settling into a chair in front of a mirror big enough to let him still see them across the room. “What did you think of the Crown Princess’ coronation?”

Sokka rolls his eyes, trusting that Zuko can still sense the rude gesture Sokka is refraining from flipping his way. “It was a busy day.”

Zuko snorts. “That’s one way to put it.”

“You were kept busy?” Zhei asks, straightening with interest. “What did you do? Were you close to palace?”

“Closer than I ever thought I’d be,” Sokka says, dry, watching Zuko’s lips twitch in the mirror, “And I did a bit of this, a bit of that. Lots of running around.”

--

Zuko has half his attention on Lei, because half his attention is always on anyone unknown this close to him no matter how benign they’ve seemed so far. The other half is firmly on Sokka where he’s leaning casually against the table with a relaxation that doesn’t seem feigned, his expression bright and easy as he fields Zhei’s question.

He looks happy, Zuko decides. And relaxed like Zuko wasn’t sure Sokka could be yet around the subject of what exactly it is Sokka’s going to be doing in Caldera now. Part of Zuko was expecting tension, a flash of hurt at the sudden appearance of a sore topic or a quick change of the subject, and he’s relieved to see Sokka’s shoulders staying loose, his hands as animated as ever.

Sokka glances over like he can feel the attention—or maybe like he just likes to look at Zuko, which still makes Zuko’s inner flame flip—catching Zuko’s gaze in the mirror and giving him a quick smile. Zuko smiles back, reaching out to curl a tendril of warmth around Sokka and startling into losing the thread of heat as a small, unexpected brush of firebending bumps against his hold on the flames in the room.

“Oh,” Lei says, surprise breaking over her face. “You’re a firebender.”

“Sorry,” Zuko says, quickly releasing the flames, embarrassment hot on his face. To seize the fire in someone else’s quarters—Agni, he might as well start kicking in doors and rifling through drawers, too. “I’m sorry. Habit. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine,” Lei says slowly, frowning slightly. “You can consider this a public space, not a private one.”

But her brow stays furrowed and Zuko doesn’t take the flame back even after she nudges the light brighter around her station. He can see her eyes lingering on his scar in the mirror, can see her understanding that he got burned that badly as a firebender, and some small part of him tenses even though he’s used to it by now—though perhaps these days he’s more used to people knowing to expect it, he thinks ruefully. When was the last time he truly met someone who wouldn’t know?

Which doesn’t, apparently, mean Zuko has lost the instinct for refusing to break the silence once the topic is his scar, even if his quiet these days is more watchful than about-to-break-if-he-has-to-do-anything.

Finally, Lei speaks, voice and face perfectly neutral as she fusses with the clips at the ready on the collar of her over robe. “It is your choice of course. But generally, I would not advise trying to hide things like that.” She doesn’t need to specify what. “It tends to draw more attention, ultimately.”

“I generally don’t try to hide it,” Zuko says, watching the way she relaxes, nodding slowly before getting briskly back to asking about his usual day—“Lots of sitting and talking. Some training if I can fit it in.”—and his usual hair care routine—“Whatever I have time for.”—and his usual style.

“Topknot,” Zuko says, and waits for the next question.

Sokka makes an exasperated noise from across the room. “That’s not it.”

“Yes, it is.” He’d be the one to know, it’s his hair.

“It’s not just ‘topknot.’”

“It’s a topknot. Every day. You do it for me sometimes. In a topknot.”

Sokka gives him a patient look. “And what else?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko shrugs, nodding that it’s okay for Lei to touch his hair when she quietly asks for permission.

“Yes, you do,” Sokka huffs. “It’s your hair. Every morning I put in…?”

“Braids,” Zuko says, Lei’s fingers light on his hair. “But those are usually tucked up into the topknot. So. Topknot.”

“Yes, braids. And a headpiece—”

“I don’t always wear the headpiece.”

“You’re always ready to wear—”

“Beads,” Lei says, abrupt, and Sokka blinks.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” he says, “But yeah, you always have beads, too, so what is this—”

“Beads.”

Zuko shifts at her tone, his eyes on her blank face in the mirror, concern sparking in his chest as he registers her frozen hands, her hold over the fires in the room going so erratic that it shivers visible enough to draw Zhei’s attention.

“Lei?” she asks, taking a half-step forward.

“Beads,” Lei says again, gasping a bit, dragging her gaze up to meet Zuko’s eyes in the mirror, her own going wide as her face goes suddenly, dangerously white. “Black beads.”

“What,” Zhei says, “The fuck.”

--

…So Sokka maybe forgot that no one in the Fire Nation but Zuko wearing black hair beads means no one but Zuko wears black hair beads.

“Someone is smuggling black beads into the city?” Zhei gasps, eyes wide with horror.

“—Agni, lord and lady and all things, shine bright upon me and forgive me for—”

Zhei whirls on Sokka. “You brought us someone who’d wear smuggled beads? In the palace?”

“I’m not sure it qualifies as smuggling,” Sokka says, distracted by Lei still bent over praying and Zuko hovering next to her, clearly trying to calm her down and clearly having no idea where to even start. Though technically no one is paying import taxes…

“Is this some coup thing?” Zhei shrieks. “We just had a coup, I will not be part of another! I’ll—I’ll report this to—to the Royal Guard!”

“You don’t need to report anything,” Zuko says, with a thread of worry, if Sokka’s reading it right, that his newly instated Guard will realize that their Fire Lord has a habit of slipping into the city without them.

“I will not help some imposter—”

“Zhei!” Lei shouts, the words tripping out. “He’s a firebender and he has the scar and his eyes.” Then she falls to her knees into a full dogeza. “My lord.”

Zhei stares, frozen, meeting Zuko’s startled golden eyes. “Oh, fuck,” she finally says, dropping down too.

--

“Agni’s ass cheeks,” Zhei moans into the floor. “The Fire Lord is sitting in our living room!”

Lei makes a wordless noise, ignoring Zuko’s attempts to gesture her up, his hands fluttering like he doesn’t want to risk touching her. In fairness, it’s probably not ignoring if she doesn’t even realize it’s happening. Since she’s still in her dogeza and Sokka’s pretty sure she has her eyes closed.

“The Fire Lord is in our living room.”

“I mean.” Zuko rubs the back of his neck, giving Sokka a helpless look. “It’s really not that big of a—”

“There’s a Child of Agni in my living room.”

Zuko wisely shuts up at that and joins Sokka in judicious silence to let them work through it a bit more before trying again.

“Lei, you touched his hair.”

Which might take a while.

--

“You’re the Fire Lord.”

“I am,” Zuko nods, rubbing his thumb absently over Sokka’s hand, the two of them sitting on the floor at what Zuko deemed to be an appropriately supportive but not overwhelming distance from the sisters, who still haven’t quite managed to bring themselves to get up yet.

“The Fire Lord of the Fire Nation.”

“Yes,” Zuko agrees, reaching to flick Sokka with his free hand to stop a laugh before it can come out. “That’s the one.”

“You are Agni’s Child.”

Zuko makes a noise of agreement.

“You are Keeper of the Eternal Flame.”

“I do do that,” Zuko confirms.

“You are Agni’s Will Upon the Earth.”

“So the Fire Sages inform us.”

“You are Protector of the Peace.”

Zuko pauses, cocking his head. “I haven’t actually heard that one before.”

A long, long silence, then, hesitantly, “It—it’s new.”

--

Zhei and Lei are both kneeling up on their heels now, which Sokka is going to take as an improvement even if they’re also both hiding their faces behind their hands.

He glances toward the window, thinking regretfully of his tentative plans for a bit of fun with Zuko before lunch and throwing Zuko an apologetic glance that Zuko just shrugs off, his patient-Fire Lord face firmly on.

“My Lord,” Zhei says, shaky from behind her hands. “I—Your Majesty—”

“Majesty,” Lei echoes, voice choked.

“We are—you—you’re—we—” A deep, shuddering breath, and Zuko pulls himself up, clearly preparing himself. “We are—such fans of yours.”

“Such fans.”

“Just—the biggest.”

…If Sokka can’t have the pleasure of a pre-lunch blowjob from Zuko, watching that patient-Fire Lord face disappear into open shock is nearly just as good.

--

“—your education reform policies—”

“—even just the ones you’ve implemented already—”

“—but the ones you’ve proposed—”

--

“—your environmental policies—”

“—the stewardship, the river cleanup crews—”

Sokka blinks, mouthing, You have an environmental stewardship policy?

Logging, Zuko mouths back.

Ah. Well then.

--

“I can’t believe I brought the Fire Lord into my living room!”

“I didn’t even dust.”

--

“—the way you’ve welcomed the other nations—”

“—the way you’ve brought the Fire Nation into the world!”

--

Lei suddenly gasps, jerking so hard in alarm that she drops her hands. “I tried to knock the Fire Lord off a flame,” she says, blank, then again, with feeling, “I tried to knock the Fire Lord off a flame.”

“Lei.”

“I didn’t know!”

“Lei!”

“I didn’t know!”

Zhei turns on Sokka, glaring between her fingers. “You didn’t tell me!”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Sokka protests, raising his hands in surrender.

“Didn’t—you didn’t—didn’t—didn’t!”

Zuko clears his throat, voice tentative, “It’s actually really not—”

Zhei whirls on Zuko, mouth open to unload on him too and staring a long moment before whipping back to Sokka. “Don’t say it’s not, it is!”

--

“…and I mean,” Sokka says, just in a full-on ramble now, but he figured he’d give Zuko a break and try his hand at some soothing. “How bad is it, really? Zuko works in the palace, which you already knew. He’s definitely a trendsetter even if he doesn’t want to be—”

Zuko snorts.

“And so what, you had some chit-chat in front of him—”

Lei slowly turns to stare at him, blank. “I gave him my political opinions."

Zhei looks openly horrified. “I talked about his lovers.”

“…Which actually happens all the time, surprisingly,” Sokka continues, smacking Zuko in the chest as Zuko turns around to hide his laughter. “And really, it’s not reason to—or, okay yup. Yup. We can panic more. We can do that too. Just…let it out.”

--

“I came here, didn’t I?” Zuko says in a reasonable tone—which is working much better than Sokka’s attempt at reasonableness, not that Sokka’s exactly surprised. “I knew where I—Sokka told me he was bringing me to a hair appointment,” Zuko corrects himself, ever honest. “That’s still why I’m here. And I could have introduced myself, but I didn’t. And that makes it my choice and my fault, if you didn’t know me. Not yours.”

“You are not at fault—”

“We should have known—”

“I dress in plain clothes for a reason,” Zuko interrupts, gentle. “I’m not wearing my crown for a reason.”

Zhei and Lei stare at him with wide eyes.

“It’s nice to just…be unremarkable sometimes,” Zuko says with a little shrug, giving Sokka a rueful look. Nice to be able to go on a date without an entourage, Sokka can translate, being quite familiar with the way an entourage gets in the way of side alley blowjobs before lunch. Nice, indeed.

“You know,” Zuko is saying as Lei continues to look skeptical. “I slip the guards, I go to the market, to a noodle shop, a tea house—”

“That’s just a day in the city,” Zhei says, frowning. Which is what Sokka would think, too, if he didn’t know about all the alleys and roofs and wandering hands and the fact that both he and Zuko absolutely have vials of oil somewhere on their person.

“Yeah,” Zuko smiles, like he doesn’t know about those things either. “I like days in the city.” He raises an eyebrow and adds, dry, “I don’t get them often.”

Understanding is slowly breaking over Lei’s face, Zhei’s on the verge, and Sokka sits back, content to watch Zuko continue to work his magic.

--

Things do eventually return to something resembling calm in the living room, though both sisters continue to look star-struck and reflexively forming the Eternal Flame. And Zhei keeps hissing at Sokka for not warning her.

“Would you have said yes if I did?” Sokka asks, reasonable, “Would you even have believed me?”

She doesn’t have an answer for that, but Lei is marshaling her professionalism back around her and seeming to physically drag Zhei along, too, and the sisters finally settle back into the rhythm of the appointment through what looks like sheer force of will.

“A person can do a lot with hair, Your Majesty.”

“Of course,” Zuko agrees, body language nothing but attentive politeness.

Lei takes a deep breath, like it’s hitting her all over again who she’s talking to and what she’s about to do. Then she visibly, firmly sets that aside. “Our usual work is not what I understand to be your usual style,” she offers, indicating Zhei and her marvel of hair.

“Not quite,” Zuko agrees, a hint of dry humor entering his voice.

“And are you trying to change your usual style?” she asks, diffident.

Zuko hesitates, eyes flicking between the sisters. “Not necessarily…”

“But?” Sokka prompts, because he can hear the rest of Zuko’s thoughts teetering on the tip of his tongue, just needing a nudge over the edge that he knows neither of the sisters will give.

“Some of your headpieces and pins,” Zuko starts, and Zhei is both quick and a professional at the end of the day because she has them laid out in an instant, all the ones she must have noted as Zuko’s favorites, and Zuko takes the invitation to look more closely. “I don’t see metalwork like this often,” he says, fingers tracing the swirling ripples over the metal’s smooth surface.

“It’s Earth Kingdom make,” Zhei says, her voice wavering before firming up with her usual pride. “Tu Zin region. Ore from the Si Wong Desert.”

Zuko hums, holding one up to the light and Sokka would bet poking at the metal with his heat sense. “Hand forged?”

“Of course,” Zhei says, drawing herself upright.

“It’s beautiful work,” Zuko says. “The patterns in the metal, I’d love to make something similar.”

Sokka leans in to get a better look. “I bet Toph could help you figure it out, if you didn’t mind losing a few pins to the figuring.”

“And maybe my pride,” Zuko adds with a grin.

“Oh, definitely your pride,” Sokka agrees. “But you lost that a long time ago with her.”

“Haven’t we all,” Zuko says, unbothered. 

“You…make things?” Zhei interrupts.

“Oh yeah,” Zuko says absently as he pokes at another pin, one with a broader fan across the top that shows the metalwork more distinctly, a looking-inward distance to his eyes. Definitely firebending. “I made that pin in Sokka’s hair.”

Lei opens her mouth and then promptly closes it again as Zhei says, face blank and clearly blurting the first thing that comes to mind, “I could get a lot of money for that.”

“It’s not for sale,” Sokka says, amused, and Zhei looks like she’s about to argue before she jolts like she’s catching herself, staring for a half-stunned, half-horrified moment before abruptly launching into another explanation of the origins of her pins, Zuko’s genuine interest slowly relaxing them both.

--

“The same style at its core,” Lei is saying, hands hovering over Zuko’s head as she sketches out the vision in sharp, precise gestures that stop just short of his hair. “Simple, but with touches of more.”

Zuko makes a neutral noise somewhere between skeptical and polite.

“Nothing too fancy,” Lei assures him. “Beads, but nothing gaudy.”

Zuko considers that, then, “I like the black. And red and gold and blue. But not too many colors.”

Lei nods as if black beads didn’t start it all. “And small braids. Nothing too constructed.”

“The braids Sokka does,” Zuko counters.

Lei hesitates, clearly caught between her professional and cultural instincts. “There are many styles, these days, that incorporate braids. It doesn’t have to be something that changes your profile.”

“Sokka’s braids,” Zuko repeats, firm.

“I can teach you,” Sokka offers, giving Zuko an exasperated look without any real heat behind it because he loves the idea that Zuko wants his hair full of the knots for love and strength and protection that Sokka puts there.

Lei is quiet, clearly thinking that over, then, tentative, “They are exclusive to His Majesty?”

“No,” Sokka snorts, “They’re all over the South. He’s just stubborn,” he says, fond, smiling when Zuko gives him a warm look in return. Braiding Zuko’s hair, seeing his braids there, it makes Sokka feel giddy, makes him feel like he’s wrapped in Zuko’s arms, makes him want to drag Zuko into a kiss and then into the nearest alley.

“Are you Water Tribe?” Zhei asks out of nowhere and Sokka blinks, startled.

“Yeah?” He…thought it was rather obvious.

“…Agni’s flapping tits, the Water Tribe lover,” Zhei says, eyes flying between Sokka and Zuko. “The male Water Tribe lover.”

“Oh,” Sokka says, “Yeah.” He offers a little wave. “That’s me.”

“…I just talked about a Kyoshi lover in front of you,” she says, horrified.

“Oh,” Sokka says, “Yeah.” He offers a little wave again as Zuko bites back a smile. “That’s me, too.”

Zhei stares, frozen.

“The makeup does good things for my cheekbones,” Sokka finally offers into the silence.

“It really does,” Zuko murmurs with a quick, alley-promising glance, and Zhei has to put her head between her knees for a bit all over again.

--

“I don’t know that this really shows off your work,” Zuko says, frowning down at the sketches Lei has drawn out as Zhei lays out samples of beads and thin cord and tiny braids of leather and hair pieces alongside each design.

“Serving the Fire Lord is the highest honor we could ask for,” Lei says in a tone that brooks no argument and has Sokka instinctively looking around for his laundry to pick up off the floor.

“Still, you spent a long time learning those skills,” Zuko says, indicating Zhei’s hair.

“I did. And if they allow me to serve the Fire Lord now, they were skills well earned.”

“You know Zo is always looking for new hair ideas,” Sokka puts in, giving Zuko a little nudge. “And she’s been going through a stylist a month lately.”

Zuko makes a thoughtful noise. “She certainly gets attention when she’s allowed to ease uniform protocols.”

The sisters stare, faces blank, finally exchanging a quick glance. “…Major Zo?” Zhei asks.

Zuko hums an affirmation.

“…Councilor Azon’s wife?” Lei asks, as if there might be two of them floating around.

“That’s the one,” Sokka confirms. “I think she’d really like your stuff.”

Sokka considers, in the furor that follows, that the sisters might be even more excited by the prospect of meeting the Major than they were about being the Fire Lord’s hairdressers.

--

Later, after promises to come to the palace with a contract and a noodle shop and wandering through the markets and finding their way to the little room Sokka rented for the day, just in case, Zuko whispers “Thank you,” against the soft skin under Sokka’s ear and Sokka stirs, just enough to feel Zuko’s weight on top of him.

“For scheduling time in our day to fuck?” Sokka murmurs back. “Because if that’s how you’re trying to convince me to get out of this bed and go onto the roof, it’s still way too light out and we are way too far down the crater to—”

“I meant for earlier,” Zuko huffs, nipping lightly at Sokka’s ear before pressing a kiss to the same spot. “With Zhei and Lei. But that too, I guess.”  

Sokka strokes a hand through Zuko’s loose hair—great hair, lovely hair, hair that brought them on such an adventure today—dragging his nails in the way he knows Zuko likes. “There’s nothing to thank me for,” he says. “You needed someone for your hair. I knew someone.”

“You organized a whole day,” Zuko says, the words maybe a little hoarser than his usual rasp.

“I like to organize things,” Sokka says after a beat, trying to parse what exactly that hoarseness means.

“You made it a surprise.”

“I like surprising you, too.”

“You reminded me that the people in the palace don’t speak for the whole Nation,” Zuko says, the words vibrating against Sokka’s skin as Zuko tucks his face against Sokka’s neck, and Sokka is quiet a long moment, turning over the words and the way Zuko said them. Some mix of relief and fondness and, maybe, a hint of confusion still.

“Zhei and Lei have plenty of voice in the palace,” Sokka finally says. “And they aren’t exactly quiet, either.”

Zuko hums in acknowledgment, shrugging. “It’s different hearing it from them.”

Sokka makes a noise of agreement. That’s part of what makes being a Representative in the Tribes so great, after all.

“It’s…nice,” Zuko adds, soft, almost shy, Sokka realizes. “Realizing that people are excited for what I’m doing.”

“You’re trying to change your whole nation, Zuko,” Sokka says. The whole world, really. “Of course it’s exciting.”

“I’m excited,” Zuko says, finally propping his chin on Sokka’s chest to look at him. “It’s just…it’s good to know there are people who already see where I’m trying to go, I guess. Who already want it.” People Zuko doesn’t need to cajole and convince and haul along with him, Sokka realizes. People who will pave the way ahead of him, in their own way, and call for Zuko to catch up.

“You’ve got more than just a few people in your corner, Fire Lord,” Sokka points out, brushing the hair back from Zuko’s face. And Sokka is fully prepared to start listing names, if necessary, to make that point.

“I know,” Zuko smiles though, leaning up to drop a gentle, lingering kiss against Sokka’s lips. “But thank you for bringing me, anyway. Thank you for the reminder.”

“Any time,” Sokka whispers back against Zuko’s mouth, meaning the words with all of his heart in every way Zuko wants to take them and feeling Zuko’s rumbling, happy noise of agreement in reply like it's coming from within his own chest.