Chapter Text
Sokka’s not a big fan of figure skating. Seriously, he’s not. He’s just been looking out for his sister the whole two hours he’s been watching the figure skating practice. It’s still their turn on the rink, but Sokka came with his sister, obviously, so he might as well sit and watch.
It’s not at all related to Katara’s skating partner, Zuko, who just happens to be there. Because, you know, they’re practicing their pair skating routine.
Sokka leans forward as Zuko practices a triple axel on his own. He glides backward to prepare himself, jumps, then spins in the air, landing gracefully on his right foot. Sokka lets out a breath, fogging up the air in front of his mouth.
It's nearing the end of the figure skaters’ practice, and Sokka can see his hockey team come into the arena gradually. He should really get up and warm up for his own practice, but there’s still a good twenty minutes before they can use the rink, and the figure skaters are about to do their cool down routine, which Sokka can’t miss. He needs tips for his own cool down routine, his coach did tell him once that he lacks flexibility, and the best way to learn is to watch the figure skaters do it.
There are other people on the bleachers, some partners, some parents, and even some kids who are avid fans of the skaters. Sokka got a seat on the bleachers nearest the mat area. He shifts his weight to the side, to get a proper look at the figure skaters. He’s doing this for research, he swears.
He watches Zuko carefully remove his skates and socks, stashing them in his duffel bag. He puts on a new pair of socks and starts walking to the mat. Stretching his back, he pulls his arms up with fingers laced together, and his tight black shirt rides up, showing his sinfully thin waist. Spirits.
Zuko starts his leg routine by spreading his legs wide, then leaning down to reach his left foot. His body folds effortlessly. Sokka thinks that if he did that, he’d definitely strain his hamstring.
Zuko proceeds to reach down his right foot, then turns his head from side to side, stretching his neck a little. He then comes down on the mat to do a deep lounge. From this angle, he could see Zuko’s black pants hugging his thighs and ass snuggly, and Sokka tries not to choke on his own spit.
Zuko pushes against the mat with his hands, arching his back to get a deeper stretch. His spine curves delicately, and Sokka suddenly gets the urge to hold the small of his back. For support, of course.
After Zuko repeats the deep lounge for his other leg, he then adjusts his position to do a full split. This time, Sokka actually chokes.
He coughs against his fist for a few seconds and reaches for his tumbler in his duffel bag. He chugs the water down quickly, not wanting to miss a single second of Zuko’s—the figure skaters’ routine.
“Unbelievable.”
Sokka jumps a little when someone speaks right beside his ear.
“Spirits, Jet, can’t you at least tap me?”
“How long have you been here?” Jet asks. There’s a lollipop in his mouth, which paints his lips cherry red. Sokka couldn’t help but judge his excessive sugar intake right before practice.
“The whole time…” He says, as Jet’s eyes widen. “I came with Katara, okay? Didn’t know what else to do.” He stashes his tumbler back in the duffel bag.
“There’s literally a shopping mall beside the rink, dude, but okay.”
Jet settles on the vacant seat beside him, much to his dismay. Turning to look back at the mat area, Sokka wishes he didn’t put back his tumbler, because he’s about to choke again.
Zuko’s lying on his back this time, with his left leg down on the mat and his right leg stretched up all the way to his head. A lying split stretch. Sokka feels sweat drip down his back. Did they turn up the temperature in the rink? That can’t be good for their practice. Like watching Zuko’s cool down routine is clearly not good for his health. He feels out of breath and he hasn’t even started his own training.
“So that’s why you’re seated here,” Jet says, eyes directed towards the mat section.
“What? What do you mean?” Sokka quickly replies.
Smirking, Jet says, “To watch Zuko stretch.”
“Yeah, I need to research on a better cool down routine, okay? Remember when coach Piandao told me I’m getting too stiff lately?”
“Something’s definitely stiff right no—“
Sokka hits his head.
Just before Sokka goes to practice, he approaches Zuko with a box of tea leaves on one hand, and his helmet on the other. He stomps his way to him, mindful of the guards wrapped around the blades of his skates.
Zuko’s sitting on one of the bleachers, still wearing his training clothes that tightly fit his toned physique. He’s wearing his hair down now, free of the usual bun he sports during training. His long silky black hair is bunched up on one side, leaving his neck exposed on the other. Sokka gulps.
“Hey Zuko,” he calls.
Zuko turns to him and says, “Hey Sokka,” with a small smile on his lips.
“For you,” Sokka says, handing the box of tea to him. “I heard Katara say you like this brand a lot but they pulled it out of the nearest convenience store in your area? Anyway, I saw this at our local grocery and thought to get you some.”
“Sokka, thank you really, I was looking everywhere for this,” Zuko says softly, taking the box from his hand. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing! It’s no biggie.” Sokka chuckles.
“What? This is a really expensive brand, Sokka.”
“Okay then, uhh..” Sokka rubs the back of his neck. “You could owe me dinner sometime?”
Zuko looks surprised so Sokka adds, “But you don’t have to! Really! I just wanted my sister’s skating partner in tip-top shape, y’know. That tea is good for blood circulation apparently! If you want me to buy more next t—” He gestures his hands wildly as he rambles.
Zuko stands up and holds his forearm gently to make him stop talking. “Dinner it is. When are you free?” Sokka's shoulders jump as he feels the warmth of Zuko’s hand on his arm. Zuko quizzically cocks his head to the side.
“Anytime—” He squeaks. He clears his throat. “Anytime tomorrow or on Sunday, if that’s okay with you.”
“Okay, I’ll message you,” Zuko says. The warmth of his hand unfortunately leaves Sokka’s arm.
Watching Zuko go, Sokka’s mind delves into unending scenarios of their date—dinner together. He wonders how Zuko will dress casually outside of the rink, or outside of training. He’s only seen it through selfies with Katara on instagram, but they’re always blurry or Zuko’s at the far back. Zuko’s own profile has nothing but photos and videos of his pet ducks, which doesn’t help either, even if they’re undeniably adorable. He can’t wait for the weekend.
“Hey, Captain? We have practice, remember?” Jet calls for him from the rink.
Sokka marches back to the side of the rink quickly. He removes the skate guards and glides across ice, moving closer to his teammates.
He leads the hockey drills for the next two hours. It’s off-season, so they focus on low-resistance skills training. Sokka finds himself breezing through all the drills, powered by the sheer thought of seeing Zuko this coming weekend.
After training, he sees Zuko still on the bleachers, signing a board held by a little girl. The fire and water symbols on the little girl’s bubble headband wobbles as she jumps up and down in excitement.
“One day, I’m gonna be a skater just like you and Katara!”
Zuko smiles at her, saying, “You’ll do great, kid. Maybe I can be your trainer by then.” The little girl's eyes shine brightly.
Sokka can’t help but find the sight endearing.
“Zuko? Why are you still here?” He asks once the child leaves with her parents.
“Sokka!” He seems to be startled. “Oh, um, I’m visualizing, and uh, conceptualizing.”
Sokka sits down beside him.
“It’s just that our routine isn’t fully polished yet. I’m trying to think of some changes and addition to the routine before I suggest them to Katara. I mean, you know how your sister is,” Zuko continues to explain.
“She’s a bit of a perfectionist, yeah. But you shouldn’t pressure yourself, you still got so much time before the competition. I mean, Katara’s even out on a date with Aang right now. You should also get some rest.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Zuko says, looking over Sokka’s shoulder. Sokka turns to see what he’s looking at, only to see his teammates getting off the rink.
Before Sokka could ask what he was looking at, Zuko abruptly stands. “I’ll get going, then. Bye Sokka, I’ll text you tomorrow.” He waves at him, and promptly leaves. Sokka didn’t even get to respond.
As Sokka walks to the train station to get home, he watches the dark blue sky bleed into the warm colored sunset. The reds and oranges reflecting under the dark clouds remind him of Zuko’s usual figure skating costume. As opposed to Katara’s blue and white accented costume to represent water, Zuko typically wears a red costume with gold and orange accents to signify his representation of fire.
They have been a tandem since they were teens, famous for being the only two-peat Olympic gold winners of their country under the pair skating division. Sokka’s incredibly proud of them, since he’s seen their growth over the decade.
He couldn’t help but look back to Zuko’s awkward teenage phase, back when he was really hotheaded and had a short fuse for everything.
Zuko took a hiatus from the skating industry for three years, after an incident with his former skating partner, Azula, his sister. They had been a child prodigy duo in the pair skating junior division, until Zuko fell from a triple axel move, unable to keep up with Azula then. With Zuko’s current skills, he is able to keep up with Azula and even surpass her, which makes Sokka immensely proud of him.
Zuko came back with a scar around his left eye, rumored to be caused by his own father. He was disowned by his father, but taken in by his uncle, Iroh, who then funded his return to the skating scene. That’s when he moved training facilities, nearer to Sokka and Katara’s hometown.
Back then, Katara had been intimidated by the child prodigy, but eventually warmed up to him after sharing their love for skating. It only made sense that he’d be Katara’s skating partner, since they synced on ice better than anyone in their class. Sokka would sometimes join their sessions, and that’s how he had met Zuko.
Zuko had been so irritable at first, chasing perfection at all times like his father trained him to be. Katara had also been like that, following the footsteps of their late mother who was a three-peat Olympic gold medalist.
Their coach signed them all up for yoga and meditation classes to keep them from tearing themselves apart, including Sokka who was a bit of a rule-breaker in his teens.
There, they had met Aang who is the yoga instructor’s nephew, now competing in breakdancing; Toph, a classmate of Aang’s who competes in paralympics; and Suki, a gymnast, who would then be Sokka’s girlfriend. Years after the formation of their friend group, Aang and Katara would start dating, while Suki and Sokka would break up, agreeing to be better off as friends.
Since then, Zuko learned to be levelheaded, and aside from that helping him advance his skating skills, it also helped him get back with his now ex-girlfriend Mai.
There was a time when both Zuko and himself had been unavailable, always busy with their own romantic relationships and training, so they didn’t really have the time to get closer with each other. Out of the six of them, his relationship with Zuko is regrettably the only one that hasn’t been developed deeply. Surely, it’s not because of his own fear of ruining their friendship because of his…feelings towards the skater.
Now, Sokka thinks, there is an opportunity to grow closer with Zuko, with them both being single and at their prime. He doesn’t even know if Zuko swings that way, but he’ll take this chance regardless.
Pulling out his phone, he checks his DMs for a message from Zuko. He knows Zuko said he’ll message tomorrow, but Sokka checks just in case. So far, there’s only a message from Suki with a reel about how to make cactus juice. Sokka can’t help but let out a deep sigh.
Since he won’t be going home with Katara, as she’ll be staying at Aang’s for the weekend, he enters the train station alone. He reaches inside his duffel bag to look for his transportation card amongst the mess of his training clothes and towels.
He gets out of the line and settles his bag on the nearest counter. Shuffling his things inside even further, the slow realization of his transportation card not being there dawns on him.
His dumbass forgot his card in the lockers.
Letting out a deep long sigh, he zips up his bag and heads out of the station. He could buy a new card, but he just loaded his card yesterday and he didn’t want to waste that.
Brisk walking back to the arena, it takes him eight minutes to go back, cutting his travel time in half. The lights are off in the bleachers area, with only a lone ice resurfacer operator on the rink, everyone else has gone home. He knew his team had the last schedule a few hours ago, and the arena closes early today for routine maintenance.
He walks to the locker room and upon reaching it, he pushes the entry door. The panel budges a bit, the latch bolt lightly catching on the strike. He’s about to call for maintenance, when the door opens from his slight force. The lock must be old, or the wooden panel must have shrunk due to the frigid temperature of the ice.
He scans the hallway, but there’s no one else there. He quickly enters the locker room and re-locks the door, just in case the maintenance people come to check. He doesn’t want to be caught like when he was a teen, sneaking into the lockers for an April Fool’s prank that he meticulously planned out. He still remembers his dad’s disappointed stare, and how that cemented his decision to enroll Sokka in the same yoga and meditation classes as Katara. Granted, that decision made him meet his best friends, and most especially, made him actually befriend Zuko, so it wasn’t all that bad.
But he doesn’t think he’s breaking in, he’s just about to get his own possession from the locker, he swears. He’s grown out of that juvenile behavior.
Hovering his hand over the light switch, he decides not to turn on the lights, as it would just become a beacon for the staff to come in and check the locker rooms. There’s light coming in from the transom windows above the lockers, anyway. He’ll just get his transportation card and get out of here fast, easy.
He walks to the locker he used earlier and finds his card on the lower shelf. It must have fallen from his bag. The locker door gives a creaking sound as he hits it on his way down to get his card.
He hears a low moan further inside the locker room.
Sokka fears for his life, thinking back at all the horror movies he’s seen. But unlike the stupid protagonists in those movies, he’s not about to walk closer to the source of the sound. He still wants to live, thank you very much. As he turns to the door, he hears something that makes him fully stop on the way out.
“Ah! Jet!”
Wait, what?
The sounds disappear, but now Sokka’s curiosity gets a hold of him. He lays his bag on the floor lightly and approaches the bench area, where he thinks he heard the voice from. He leans his back on the door of the last locker, nearest the bench area. From this close, he can hear more moans and…slicking sounds? What the fuck is going on?
He peeks at the bench area, seeing Jet’s back to him as he eats someone out. The other person’s body is arched down on the bench, which Sokka now notices is two combined benches covered with several towels, so he couldn’t see their face. The other person gives a low moan, grabbing the back of Jet’s head to encourage him further. Jet grabs the globes of the person’s ass and spreads them further, diving in enthusiastically, judging by his muffled happy moans.
Sokka can't believe what he’s seeing. This is his teammate, his assistant captain, for fuck’s sake. He’s played with Jet for almost five years now, and while he’s not the epitome of professionalism himself, he didn’t think Jet would use a public locker room for a hook-up. Sokka also didn’t think he’d be in this situation, but he’s practically rooted on the ground now, unable to move from shock.
He manages to hide himself against the lockers again, back sliding against the doors to squat on the floor. His back hits a lock. He cringes at the sound it makes, pressing his lips into a thin line to prevent himself from making any more noise. The sounds from the bench area stop. Oh shit oh shit oh shit—
“Are you sure you locked the door?” A low, raspy voice that is unmistakably Zuko’s says. No, it can’t be.
He’s afraid to peek again, fearing that if he sees Zuko’s face, his assumption will be real. He squats on the floor, still unable to process what the fuck is happening.
“Yeah baby, don’t worry about it,” Jet answers. There’s some rustling sounds, then, a loud moan echoes on the walls of the room, making Sokka shudder.
Jet covers Zuko’s mouth as he pushes the rest of his cock inside his hole. The heat that engulfs him makes him groan, and his skin prickling with desire. His hand muffles the rest of Zuko’s moans as he rhythmically thrusts into him. One of Zuko’s knees slide out of place, but Jet catches it just in time. Zuko whimpers as Jet stops thrusting. His hole tightens a bit, making Jet feel a little lightheaded. He squeezes Zuko’s thigh, moving it closer.
“Jet?”
Pulling Zuko up, he leans his body forward to wrap an arm around Zuko’s broad shoulders, taking the weight off his knees. He didn’t want to injure him during their activities, he didn't want to sabotage Zuko’s career. Contrary to popular belief, he’s not an actual douchebag.
Jet likes to see how big his thighs are compared to Zuko’s, as he positions his thighs under his, taking his full weight. His cock sinks further into him in this position, making Zuko gasp.
The sweat from Zuko’s back sticks to Jet’s chest as he continues to ram into him. Jet silently thanks his strict off-rink training regime for his lower body power.
Zuko’s hair is in a loose bun, bouncing with his whole body. Some of his hair escape the tie, falling loosely on the back of his neck. Jet leans into the curve of his neck, parting his hair to give the skin a teasing bite.
“Wait, not there,” Zuko whispers, holding his arm to get his attention.
Jet releases the skin from his teeth, and licks it slowly to soothe it. He tastes the salt from Zuko’s skin. He honestly hopes to leave a mark but the bite was too shallow. He grinds his teeth with the desire to bite so he holds Zuko’s jaw to turn his head towards him, and kisses him fervently, biting his lower lip in the process. Tasting a bit of blood in his mouth as they separate, Jet licks Zuko’s lower lip as a silent apology.
He continues to draw out moans from Zuko as he pounds him from behind. He lowers his arm, lightly touching Zuko’s hardened nipples, as he makes his way to his waist. Fuck, his waist is so thin that Jet’s arm could encircle it completely. He leans back, his other arm reaching back to support him. He thrusts up with more force this time, hitting a spot he knows Zuko likes repeatedly. Zuko covers his own mouth as his screams try to escape.
“Ah fuck, Zuko,” he grunts, seeing the cheeks of Zuko’s ass bounce against his hips. He’s so turned on he could barely think, eyes stinging as sweat drips down his lashes.
He’s waited weeks for this, waiting for both of their schedules to free up. They have been fuck buddies for six months now, an arrangement they had agreed upon after seeing each other on a gay dating app. Zuko first approached him, already knowing him because he’s Katara’s ex, to beg him not to tell anyone about his profile. He said he didn’t think he’d see anyone he knew in there.
Jet teased him a bit, at first, telling him he’d tell his teammates about it just to get a reaction out of him. He had seen Zuko only on the rink, when he practiced with Katara. After their messy breakup, he had also gotten on Zuko’s bad side, being Katara’s close friend. His snobbish and arrogant behavior irritated him, so he wanted to annoy the so-called fire prince.
Zuko grabbed his shirt and shouted at him, “Don’t you fucking dare, if anyone discovers this I’m done for! And I’ll make sure you go down with me.” Jet stared at Zuko’s fierce eyes and a slow grin had made its way to his face.
“Why the hell are you smiling?”
Jet grabbed one of Zuko’s hands and pushed it down to rest on the crotch of his sweatpants. He’d gotten hard. He leaned in, whispering to Zuko, “You turned me on, that’s why.”
Zuko roughly pushed him away.
Jet told him, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about this. I won’t tell anyone. I’m not an asshole, okay? But why are you afraid of getting discovered? You won’t be done for. There’s plenty of gay skaters on the field.”
“I’m not gay!” Zuko exclaimed. Jet rolled his eyes, and said sarcastically, “Sure, and I’m not bisexual.”
“I’m just frustrated, okay? My ex and I parted on good terms, unlike you.” Zuko glared at him. “But I couldn’t help but think I didn’t satisfy her so…”
“So you want to practice? With a man?” Jet continued his absurd thinking.
“Yeah, just practice, so I could use it when I get a new girl—“ Jet couldn’t hear more of his nonsense, so he slammed his hand on Zuko’s mouth and said, “Practice with me, then.”
He removed his hand and leaned closer, lips brushing lightly on Zuko’s. They had stared at each other for a long time, before Zuko smashed his lips against his. Their heated make-out in the same locker room they are now marked the beginning of their physical relationship.
In the first few weeks, Jet taunted him while they fucked, telling him things like “I bet your future girlfriend would love this” while Zuko’s face down getting his back blown out. But in one of their sessions, Zuko tearfully admitted he likes men, and Jet had held him tenderly that night, the first time in weeks Zuko experienced gentleness from him. He owed him that, after literally fucking the internalized homophobia out of him.
He took all of Zuko’s firsts with a man; their sexual chemistry was so extreme that Zuko even discovered things about Jet he didn’t know he liked before.
Zuko stops his hips from moving, with his hand reaching back. Puzzled, Jet asks, “What’s wrong baby?”
“Wanna ride you,” Zuko mumbles as his ear turns into a pretty shade of pink.
The muscles on his arm strain as he pushes himself off of Jet. He lets out a soft hiss as his hole clenches around nothing. Jet bites his lip, looking at the lube dripping out of his gaping hole. He holds back his desire to eat him out again.
They switch positions, with Jet lying on the bench and Zuko hovering over him. His knees spread over Jet’s hips as he reaches back, taking Jet’s cock back into him. He releases a guttural moan as his dick slides in. He holds the curve of Zuko’s waist as he bounces on top of him, the sounds of them fucking filling the empty locker rooms.
Jet bends his knees, setting his heels against the surface of the towels on the bench, and pushes his hips up, slamming into Zuko vigorously.
“Oh! F-fuck—ah ah ah,” Zuko moans as he leans down to kiss him, probably to shut himself up.
Jet grabs his ass as they make out aggressively, hoping to leave marks on his pale skin. Zuko’s drooling by the time they stop kissing, eyes unfocused and pupils dilated. He’s close.
He grabs Zuko’s chin, squeezing it, and says, “Give it to me, Zuko.”
Zuko blinks rapidly, then realizes what Jet’s signal is for. He collects the drool in his mouth, positions it above Jet’s open mouth, and spits inside.
Jet’s toes curl against the towels, letting out a grunt as he releases deep inside Zuko.
Slowing down his thrusts, he sits up, jostling his softening dick inside Zuko. He grabs Zuko’s cock and strokes it fervently, precum dribbling from his tip. Zuko keens, eyes closing as his whole body shivers against him. Jet continues to pump him, watching as his cock turns an angry red.
“That’s it, come for me baby,” Jet whispers against his sensitive ear.
Zuko holds on to his shoulders as he’s about to come, shouting, “S-Sokka!”
Jet hears someone wheeze near them. Oh?
He squeezes his cock tightly, thumb covering the tip to prevent him from coming. “No, no, no,” Zuko whines. He’s so out of it that he didn’t notice the sound of someone else inside the locker room. Jet grins manically.
“Sokka, huh? This is the first time you’ve called another dude’s name during sex and it’s my captain’s?”
Zuko releases a pathetic whimper, as he tries to push Jet’s hand away weakly. “Sorry, I’m sorry, let me come, fuck,” he rambles.
“No, no, that’s fine with me, really,” Jet says. “I just wanna ask, was he your gay awakening?”
“I don’t—“
“Do you want him to fuck you too? Do you want both of us?” He asks as his own cock starts to harden again inside Zuko. His libido is seriously reaching heights he’s never achieved before with him.
“Fuck you,” Zuko says weakly.
He looks into Zuko’s dazed eyes, touching his cheek with his other hand and strokes the cut on his mouth with his thumb.
“No, I’m serious, baby. I can make your fantasy come true. I just need your permission, okay?”
He starts rubbing the slit of Zuko’s cock with his thumb and Zuko squirms against him. “If I answer honestly will you let me come, you fucking bastard?”
Jet chuckles. He leans closer, kissing Zuko slowly on the mouth. He keeps his eyes open, tilting his head to the side to see the nearest locker. He could see Sokka’s shoes.
They part, and rest their foreheads against each other.
“Yeah, I-I think I’d want both of you. Hypothetically.” Zuko whispers.
Jet doesn’t let go of his cock. Zuko whines, hitting his shoulder. “I thought you’d let me come?”
“I won’t, but Sokka will,” Jet answers, a smirk creeping its way up his lips.
“What?”
“Sokka, come out of there. I’m sure you could put your mouth to good use instead of wheezing alone there. Right, Captain?”