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It had taken a while to work up to this.
Toys, and fingers, and days of slowly increasing sizes.
It had been, of course, Sokka’s idea.
Not that Zuko hadn’t immediately been on board, but his husband has decidedly more… exotic tastes than he does.
Namely, Sokka loves to push the limits, to see exactly how much he can take, even when his body trembles, and his gasps start to toe the line of sobbing, to beg Zuko for more, more, more .
It is one of Zuko’s favourite things, to have Sokka’s legs bound in rope and splayed open, warm and wet and on full display, and today is no different.
His husband keens, head thrown back as his arms pull ineffectually at the neatly braided silken rope currently binding his wrists above his head, back arched as Zuko presses forward still, four fingers slipping in to the knuckle. The broadness of his palm meets resistance, and he takes care to pause, stroking his free hand on Sokka’s trembling belly as he meets his eyes to check in. “You’re doing so good, baby, almost.”
Sokka nods, squirming in his grasp but his lip is a bitten mess, held to bruising between his teeth.
Zuko ducks closer, sliding his tongue along the tight seam where his hand meets Sokka’s stretched flesh, upwards until he lets the flat of it draw up against his clit. He smiles at the bucking mewl he gets in response, knowing it won’t take much now and does his best to only suckle very gently, intent on drawing this out as long as he can.
Sokka is another case entirely, gasping and gasping as his hips try to seek more but have no room for leverage.
The writhe of him does something else though, and Zuko smiles as he tucks his thumb close to his palm when he feels the tension start to give. It is more sudden then he thought it would be, the break of it when his hand sinks all the way in, until his wrist is the only thing left visible. It is so tight, hot and velvety all around him as he slowly rotates his wrist and lets his knuckles rub carefully along his walls.
Sokka is properly crying now, face red and eyes blown as his moans only grow in pitch until he is wailing , little gut punched sounds as Zuko slowly pulls his hand back until it spreads him wide enough to pop free of the widest part, before pushing in once more. The give is more easy this time, and he fits himself snuggly inside before teasing little thrusts, barely an inch either way but it doesn’t seem to matter.
Sokka’s muscles go taut as he comes, bed frame creaking as he pulls hard enough at his bonds that Zuko has a brief moment of worry that the wooden posts might not be up to the task. “Fuck, fuck, Zuko o-oh!”
There is a note of almost panic in his words, enough that Zuko sits up slightly to see if there is something wrong, and it is the only thing that saves his face from being completely soaked as a gush of fluid splatters onto his chin. It keeps going for a moment, a few more pulses that coat his wrist as Sokka continues to wail, belly shuddering as he gasps through it.
Zuko grins up at him, more than a little proud of the mess as he tugs a bit at his fist. “Been awhile since you managed that. What a gorgeous thing you are, babe.” It is wild to feel his orgasm like this, the little flutters that remain around his hand as he continues to thrust lightly. “I will stop when you want me to, but you have to tell me.” He makes his point clear by pulling free for a moment, until only his fingertips remain, before slowly driving back in.
Sokka’s head tosses, muscles flexed in protest as he struggles to breathe. “Fuck.” His back arches once more, and Zuko has no doubt if he wasn't tied down he’d be driving himself down onto Zuko and riding him to completion. “One more. Just one more, please baby. And then you are burning these ropes off and sitting on my fucking face .”
And Zuko could hardly deny a request like that, especially with the low thrum between his own soaked thighs that he had been ignoring until this point.
“Anything you want.”
~~