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“Just give me a straight confirmation. Is he attractive?”
“He’s very attractive.”
A pause.
“What? He is.” Zuko tries, but everyone’s staring at him with shock written on their faces. “It’s all in the bone structure.”
Zuko should never have opened his mouth.
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“Zuko… I think the engine’s got enough… well, fire?” Sokka’s voice snaps Zuko from his thoughts, and he quickly realises he had been mindlessly channelling flames into the furnace.
Zuko grunts, not missing Sokka’s concerned stare as he quickly bends the fire back under control. It’s already one thing to have Tagah on board. He wouldn’t want to betray his trust by accidentally sending them into the ocean by blowing up the engine.
“Let me guess, Fire Lord duties got you stumped, huh?”
Zuko only gives a hum in response.
Sokka kicks back, tucking his arms behind his neck. “So, what bout me’? How am I on the attractiveness scale?”
Zuko scoffs, knowing Sokka’s only doing it to get under his skin. That’s just how he is. He’s not serious. Yet, Zuko can’t help but linger on the question for a moment.
They’ve all changed, and Sokka is no exception. His chest and shoulders are broader. His arms— all lean muscle and not as large as Zuko’s own- sit so perfectly on his slimmer figure.
He’s really grown into his features— they’re not kids anymore. The revelation makes a simple conclusion to Zuko: Sokka is quite attractive.
Sokka’s gloating expression shifts to one of genuine surprise. “You were actually thinking about it!” Sokka gasps. “Zuko!”
Zuko straightens and feels the embarrassment colour his cheeks. “What? No, I wasn’t.”
The smug look that passes over Sokka’s face is undeniable. His lips curl up into a mischievous smirk, as if filing away the information as blackmail material. “Riiiight. So, what’s the verdict?”
Zuko turns away. He’s not about to give in to Sokka’s goading him into complimenting him.
“Come on, Zuko!” Sokka cries in that all-too-familiar whiny voice, and Zuko is struck with a hit of nostalgia, but it’s mixed with something else he can’t quite name, swirling visciously behind his ribcage.
When he hears Sokka’s footsteps behind him, he whips around sternly. “Quit it, Sokka. The last thing we should be doing is messing around. We’re on a mission.”
Sokka looks completely unfazed, as if the man in front of him wasn’t the Lord of the Fire Nation, but a stray otter penguin.
“So?” He raises an eyebrow, and Zuko can’t help but notice the stray strands of hair falling from his wolftail. His hand itches to reach out and tuck it back in, to run his fingers through the brown locks, but he quickly steels himself when Sokka’s words follow.
“How about I rate you?”
Zuko feels a zing of both excitement and discomfort.
“What? No.” He tries to wave the other off again, turning a corner and marching down the hallway. In this type of ship, his footsteps clink against the metal with a loud echo, and judging by the combined sound of two sets of feet, Sokka hasn’t given up his berating quite yet.
“Bro to bro,” Sokka starts again, trailing behind Zuko with a lopsided smile. Zuko feels like his hair is suddenly too hot on his neck, like everything is too hot, so he reaches up to haphazardly tie it up as he speeds up his pace.
With his arms up like this, Zuko misses the way Sokka side-steps him quickly, and he bumps into the other’s firm chest, tumbling back against the wall.
Zuko’s shocked for a second, and he can feel the familiar anger bubbling up before Sokka speaks.
“You’re a ten.”
Huh?
Zuko genuinely cannot hide the bewilderment on his face. ”A… what?”
“A ten! Don’t you know?” Sokka’s the one who looks flustered now. “On the attractiveness scale?”
“…”
Up against the wall like this, Zuko feels his growing discomfort, abating it by pushing Sokka back with a gentle nudge. If he wanted to, he could send the other flying into the wall. He was stronger, after all. But something about him has always been gentler around Sokka.
“Look,” Sokka begins. “I don’t know what kind of rock they have you under as the Fire Lord and everything, but you are seriously dense.”
Zuko swallowed down whatever had lodged itself in his throat that made him unable to speak. The heat is suffocating: his cheeks, ears, neck— he feels as if he’s back in the Fire Lord’s chambers, standing right by the vicious flames.
Sokka looks just about ready to leave, pulling away, before Zuko’s hand tightens in his tunic.
“I am not.” Zuko rasps.
“Huh?” Sokka is only looking where Zuko has caught him in a death grip by his clothes, trying to pull away at Zuko’s own wrist, but with no real effort.
“Half of my face was torched off by my own father,” Zuko replies bluntly, now finally meeting Sokka eye-to-eye. He’s always been unable to see as clearly out of his scarred side, and like this, he feels as if both eyes are equally scarred. “I can’t be a… ‘ten.’”
Sokka looks genuinely taken aback for a second, his grip loosening on Zuko’s wrist. He looks like he’s about to say something meaningful— Zuko knows he has it in him under all the comedic relief.
They stay like that for a moment, tangled in eachother’s grip and staring into eachother’s eyes. The light is low in the corridor, and it’s barely visible, but Zuko swears he sees Sokka’s eyes dart to his lips briefly.
The strange tension that had suddenly built is broken when a familiar look of mirth crosses Sokka’s face. The same look right before he says an awful joke.
“If it’s only half your face, then should we rate you on the five-star scale?”
Zuko scoffs and shoves Sokka away, sending him tumbling back with real force this time.
Sokka grunts as his back hits the wall, and Zuko storms off again. He doesn’t know where he is going, but at this point, he’d rather be anywhere than near Sokka.
“Zuko, wait!” Sokka calls after him.
Zuko doesn’t even spare him a glance, turning the corner to the balcony. “Leave me alone, Sokka. I don’t have time for this.”
“I’m serious!” Sokka’s voice is closer, and a strong hand grabs Zuko’s wrist, halting his steps.
“You are hot!” Sokka’s yelling. “Literally and figuratively!”
Zuko whips around, ready to give Sokka a piece of his mind. Hot? Seriously? He knows the other is trying to get under his skin, and it is working.
“Don’t patronise me.” Zuko snarls.
“Gosh, why are you so prickly? Can’t you take the compliment?” Sokka fights back with equal parts venom. His hand is still holding tightly around Zuko’s wrist, preventing him from going anywhere. Like this, combined with the warm evening sun casting rays of watery light onto Sokka’s face, Zuko can’t help but want to pull away.
Then, Sokka speaks again, his voice lower.
“Should I prove it to you?”
Zuko’s brows knit in confusion. “Prove it? How would you prove—hgn!”
It all happens in a second. One moment, Sokka is staring at him with an unreadable expression; the next moment, his lips are on his. Zuko barely registers what's going on until the warm feeling bursts throughout his chest. He’s kissing Sokka. Sokka’s kissing him, and he likes it.
The other pulls away slowly, and Zuko watches the intense, almost anxious flitting of Sokka’s eyes, taking in his expression.
They’re silent for a beat, save for the howling of the sea below. Sokka looks nervous at Zuko’s lack of response.
“I’m sorr-” Zuko cuts Sokka off before he can finish the sentence, smashing their mouths together. It’s a messy flurry of teeth and tongue, but Zuko can’t get enough. He won’t hear Sokka’s apology. He won’t have the other think for a second that he didn’t want this.
Sokka is surprised at first, before his body melts into the rhythm of Zuko’s touch. They kiss intensely, like they’ve been holding back this whole time, like they can’t get enough of each other. Under Zuko’s hands, Sokka’s body is warm. His hand trails to hold the back of the other’s neck, deepening the kiss and tangling into the tufts of hair at his nape.
Eventually, they pull away for air. Zuko could feel the blood colouring his cheeks, and if Sokka’s bitten, red lips were anything to go by, he was equally as affected.
“Wow.” Is all Sokka says, with a dopey smirk.
Zuko feels his cheeks colour, and he’s sure he’s about as red as his tunic. “Are you seriously doing this right now? Seriously?” He can’t help but argue.
“Yeah,” Sokka hums, and Zuko can tell he’s barely listening, his eyes flicking between Zuko’s lips and his eyes. “I have always wanted to do that,” his voice is raspy, “but you’re so… fired up all the time.”
Zuko’s eye twitches and he snaps. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?” He’s trying to steel his expression, but is unable to mask the quivering of his bottom lip.
“Exactly what you did just now.” Sokka’s smiling lazily, and his hands never stop tracing gentle circles on Zuko’s waist. Zuko realises he’s so touchy. He had seen it before with Suki, but he never thought that he would ever be on the receiving side of Sokka’s devout attention.
Zuko can’t form a response, so all he does is squeeze his eyes shut and try not to burst both himself and Sokka into flames.
There’s a featherlight touch on his neck, and Zuko startles. Sokka is running his lips along the sliver of skin exposed under his tunic and armour.
“Do you believe me now?” Sokka’s breath fans over his ear.
“About what?” Zuko shivers.
“That you’re hot.”
“I will kill you, Sokka.”
“You won’t.” There’s amusement colouring Sokka’s tone, and Zuko feels his grip tugging his hair down. “I do have to say, I like this ponytail a lot more than your old one.”
Zuko stares, glaring down at Sokka from where the long hair is now obscuring his eyes. “Are you trying to piss me off?”’
“Maybe.” Sokka purses his lips and tilts his eyebrows. His expression is patronising, as if goading Zuko. Zuko feels the irritation claw its way up through his veins, and he lets it happen. In a moment, Sokka is the one pinned up against the wall, Zuko’s stronger grip holding him there by his shoulders as he leans in close.
“This must be a test.” It’s Zuko’s turn to growl, using the leverage to catch Sokka’s gaze as the other struggles against his grip. Zuko doesn’t know why he didn’t just do this from the beginning.
“I won’t fail.”
For a split second, Sokka’s struggle continues as he fights against Zuko’s stronger grip, trying to prove a point. Zuko puts a stop to it by pinning Sokka’s hips down with his knee.
Sokka gasps, his jaw cracks open, and he lets out a high sound Zuko hasn’t heard from him before.
Both still, and Zuko watches as Sokka’s cheeks colour. He takes in the view and releases a breath he doesn’t even realise he was holding. Sokka’s in his grip, theres a bead of sweat dripping down his temple; his hair is mussed, cheeks flushed and lips bruised.
Did he just moan?
Zuko’s eyes fly to where his knee is against Sokka’s crotch, and as expected, there's a tent forming in his navy pants.
“Wait. Are you— seriously? Here, of all places?”
Sokka flusters. “I- well— I don’t know what you expect! You started grabbing at me and—”
“What if someone sees us?!” Zuko refutes.
Sokka pauses, and Zuko can’t help the tug in his heart as he puffs his cheeks in a pout.
“Take responsibility, then.” Sokka’s hand pulls free and comes up to Zuko’s chest, pulling at the fabric that parts to show his neck.
Zuko opens and closes his mouth around nothing. He can’t quite find the words to say— to comprehend what Sokka is asking of him. Luckily, a distant echo of a door slamming shut catches their attention, snapping them out of their shared stupor.
Sokka startles, as if realising how tangled up he was in Zuko’s arms, and how compromising their position must be.
There are footsteps now, and Zuko quickly realises someone is coming.
“Crap!” Sokka rushes, glancing around frantically, for somewhere- anywhere to hide. The realisation dawns upon Zuko that if anyone were to find them, it would be painfully obvious what they were doing.
“Quick,” Zuko grabs Sokka by his sleeve, ushering the other through one of the many doors in the large ship. Zuko is vaguely aware that it must be some sort of storage closet to the boiler room, if the dark, cramped face was anything to go by.
It’s a flurry of limbs and pushing. Zuko tries his best to ignore Sokka’s noises as they cram into the tight space. The footsteps are closer now, and the door shuts with a loud bang.
Zuko holds his breath. Wincing at the sound. There isn’t a doubt the person had to have heard that. He’s gritting his teeth. He’s just hoping that if they get caught, it’ll be Toph. That way, he won’t have to explain how his and Sokka’s lips are bitten raw.
Speaking of Sokka, it’s hard to ignore the other ‘s presence. If Sokka was jumpy before, he’s writhing now, unable to stay still in the small area. Zuko feels the blush spread to his ears— and it’s the embarrassed type. Whether unintentional or not, Sokka is grinding up against him in the enclosed space.
“Sokka,” Zuko chokes under his breath. “Stop moving.”
Sokka jerks around more, as if he can’t get comfortable. “It’s not my fault I can’t see! It was you who pulled us into— where even is this anyway?”
Zuko ignores Sokka’s whining in favour of lifting his hand, generating a small flame that immediately bathes the two in a gentle, orange glow.
He shouldn’t have done that.
Now with his vision recovered, Zuko would have extinguished his own fire with a gasp he suppressed at the sight, because Sokka is so close. They’re practically pressed together— and Zuko can see past the gap in his robes and down his bare chest, haphazardly exposed.
It’s getting really hot, and not because of the fire.
Almost instinctively, Zuko tries to push open the door again, but it won’t budge. He’s left face-to-face with Sokka, unable to storm away this time.
Sokka must catch Zuko staring, because he smirks and his eyes are raking down Zuko’s form with want.
Zuko can hear the footsteps waning away. He mentally thanks the spirits above because he is unable to stifle the gasp at Sokka’s next words:
“You know, you’re a lot better of a kisser than I thought you’d be.”
“Hgh—! Excuse me?”
“I said what I said. You’re pretty awkward all the time, but I suppose that’s your charm.”
“Are you just gonna sit here and insult me, or are you gonna help find a way out of this closet?!”
“Sure, Jerkbender—” Sokka quips, and the name sparks a flash of nostalgia through Zuko. “I could. But it was you who got us in here in the first place.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Zuko feels his eye twitch at Sokka’s incompetence. “We’re both stuck here now.”
“Aren’t you the one with the fire powers?” Sokka makes a point.
“You are insufferable.” Zuko tries to raise his hands in exasperation, but it catches on Sokka’s clothes instead. “I can’t do any real firebending in here. It’ll get too hot and burn us both.”
Sokka hums, and there’s a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, like a cat that got the cream. “It’s already hot in here anyway,” Sokka says, and judging by the amusement colouring his tone— he’s not talking about the fire.
Zuko gives Sokka an incredulous look. “Sokka— are you seriously—!?”
“You never took responsibility for earlier, Zuko.” Sokka’s glaring at him with half-lidded eyes, and his hand comes to grab the hand Zuko’s not using to firebend, pulling it down to his crotch.
When Zuko’s hand cups over Sokka’s bulge, both gasp, and the room is suddenly plunged back into darkness as Zuko loses hold of his flame.
“Wow, Zuko.” Sokka gives a raspy laugh, as if choked up. “Aren't you y’know… getting some as the firelord, or are you just happy to see me?”
Zuko grimaces. “We’re practically trapped in here, Sokka. Of course I can’t firebend if you won’t stop pushing me—!”
Sokka jerks his leg as if to make a point, and it punches an aborted groan out of Zuko. Both freeze, and even in the dim glow of the light seeping from between the cracks of the door, Zuko can catch Sokka’s shocked expression. There’s a hint of intrigue beneath the sea that is his big blue eyes, and Zuko feels like he’s been caught.
“…No,” Zuko finally concedes, and he bites the end of every word like it’s bittermelon. “I am not… ‘getting some’ as The Firelord.”
“Fuck,” Sokka lets out a long exhale through his nose, and their faces are so close Zuko can feel the air fan his cheek, causing him to shiver. “That’s hot. You must be really pent up..”
Zuko swallows around nothing as he forces himself to make eye contact with Sokka, who’s looking at him with half-lidded eyes. “Zuko… Can I?”
Zuko can’t believe it. Sokka’s asking to touch his dick? Zuko swallows around the lump in his throat, feeling controlled by the arousal dictating his every move. Maybe he really is pent up.
“Okay.” Is all Zuko says, before Sokka cups Zuko through his clothes with renewed confidence, and the touch quells the dull ache of desire, sending pleasure zinging up his spine.
“How about that gloomy girl you’re always on about?” Sokka speaks up after not even a second, his hand shifting over the fabric of Zuko’s trousers.
Zuko lets out a genuine groan of disdain. “Please don’t talk about Mai when you’re… touching me.”
Sokka lets out a genuine laugh at this, and the sound is like music to Zuko’s ears; he isn’t sure why. The cocktail of emotions running through his brain is too scrambled for him to make sense of; he can only focus on the gentle circles Sokka makes over his clothed dick.
Zuko doesn’t know where to put his hands. Doesn’t know what to do at all; all he can focus on is the fact that one of his best buddies is really groping him in a storage closet of his own warship right now. He swallows the lump that has formed in his throat, and his hands tentatively come to rest on Sokka’s shoulders.
“You’re really sensitive.” Sokka comments, his voice playful, almost teasing. Zuko feels his cheeks get even hotter and is silently thankful the darkness of the closet wouldn’t let Sokka see him in his current state.
“Let me suck you off.” Sokka breaks Zuko out of his internal monologue.
Zuko chokes on nothing. “What?” he winces at the coarseness of his own voice and clears his throat before speaking again. “Why would you want to do that?!”
“Cause you’re hot. Haven’t we already established this?” Even in the darkness, Zuko can see Sokka roll his eyes. “And not in the flameo-hotman type way, you are objectively an attractive man. I know one when I see one, and I can appreciate it!”
“Giving someone a blowjob— is a lot different from appreciating— hey!”
Zuko’s sentence is cut off when Sokka drops to the floor, hands tangled in the fabric of Zuko’s pants as he assumes his new position, looking up at him with bright, pleading eyes.
“Okay, fine. I’ll be honest. It’s not just appreciation. I just really want to suck you off while you pull my hair.”
Zuko swears to Tui and La under his breath. He’s so hard.
“I—” Zuko is at a loss for words, and he is honestly surprised his first instinct isn’t to push Sokka away. Some part of him deep down wants this; he can’t deny the ache he feels when Sokka grips at his thighs, teasing, waiting for permission to really touch him.
“O-Okay,” he chokes out, leaning back against the wall and pushing his hips forward. Just the view of his engorged bulge against the sharp curve of Sokka’s jawline is enough to have desire pooling deep in his gut.
Sokka gives him that mischievous smile again, and Zuko doesn’t know whether or not he should be worried about what’s to come. He’s still aware of their current situation, locked away in a closet that could very much be opened at any time, but those thoughts fade away when Sokka’s hand moves from his bulge and up to his waistband.
He fiddles there for a moment, lost in the dark. Zuko sucks in a breath and squeezes his eyes shut, looking away as if he could delay the inevitable. His best friend is about to suck him off, and he’s excited.
“All these trinkets and for what?” Sokka hums frustratedly, and Zuko winces as he hears the familiar metallic clang of his outer armour falling to the ground.
“Sokka- those are antiques,” Zuko tries, but he’s cut short when Sokka finally snakes his hand past the fabric and grips the base of his cock, firmly.
Zuko chokes. “Shit.”
There’s a pause for a moment; Sokka’s still. Zuko peers at him through his good eye anxiously, finding a dumbfounded, perplexed look on the other’s face.
“There’s no way.” Sokka’s buffering.
“What…?”
“You’re bigger than me,” Sokka says, like his whole reality had been shattered. “I always pinned you as being an average-sized guy,” Sokka pulls Zuko’s pants down enough to free his dick into the open air, “But this? This is just absurd.”
Zuko tries to speak, but Sokka punches choked breaths from him with each gentle stroke. His hands are all over his dick, and in the dark like this, it’s like he’s mapping it out for memory. Zuko’s thighs are shaking, and he feels the twitch in his dick when Sokka’s fingers brush by his balls.
“It’s because you’re the Firelord, hm?” Sokka continues rambling, but the words are going through one ear and out the other. Zuko can’t comprehend Sokka’s rambling when his hands are running over his cock, and the friction is just so good.
Zuko bites his lip to stifle the sound that dares to escape as he stares down at Sokka. His eyes flit to his wolftail, and he feels a surge of confidence as he snakes his hand to the base, tangling his grip into the end harshly.
“You really know how to run your mouth…” Zuko gives an experimental tug on Sokka’s hair. “How about you put it to better use…?”
Sokka pauses, his confident front fracturing for a split second, and Zuko can see the pure desire written underneath those cobalt eyes.
“See? Hot.” Sokka’s eyes go half-lidded as he exhales, and Zuko feels the hot breath on his dick, sending a zing of pleasure through his abdomen.
“You’re pretty down here too.” Sokka makes one last appreciative, gentle stroke of Zuko’s dick, as if mapping out the slight curve to the left, before gripping the ashen base.
Zuko chokes back a moan. “Just get on with it, Sokka.” He meant for it to come out more stern, but he just sounds desperate.
“What was that?” Zuko can practically hear the smirk in Sokka’s voice despite squeezing his eyes shut.
”Just… suck me off.” Zuko can’t help the twitch of his hips. He’s so hard— desperate for release, to thrust and fuck into anything. “Now.”
”As you wish, Milord.” Sokka hums, and then there’s the soft wetness of Sokka’s mouth closing around the tip of Zuko’s cock.
Zuko can’t stifle the sigh that escapes his lips, Sokka’s mouth is so warm and wet and perfect— all he wants is to grip his stupid ponytail and thrust into his mouth with reckless abandon, but he steels himself. He has to be patient, for both Sokka’s throat and his pride.
Sokka hums below him, a satisfied sound Zuko has heard him make in different contexts, but never this one. A fresh hot wave of both mild embarrassment and thrill washes over him, and his legs tremble as Sokka grips his thighs for stability, sinking down inch by inch.
Zuko finally chances a glance down. Sokka’s halfway down his dick, and the sight is indescribable. Even when he shuts his eyes, the vision burns behind his eyelids, and he knows he’s just effectively got new jerk-off material for a while.
Sokka splutters as if trying to get Zuko’s attention, and Zuko snaps out of the mental mantras he had started repeating in his head to not come too early.
Sokka pops off his cock with a pop, a string of saliva connecting his rosy lips to his glistening cockhead. “You know, I am a warrior, right?”
Zuko can’t begin to comprehend the mind games Sokka is trying to play, too eager to be back in his mouth. All he gives is a useless hum.
Sokka jerks his head away. “I’m trying to say— I won’t break. I want you to be rough with me.” As if to punctuate his words, Sokka places a hand over where Zuko’s gripping the end of his ponytail with a pointed look.
Zuko catches his breath. “Are you sure? What if you choke?”
“It’s called ‘warrior’s wolftail’ for a reason, buddy. Just let go.” Sokka quips.
Zuko grimaces. “Are you seriously calling me ‘buddy’ while you’re sucking my— Ohh.”
His other hand flies to the side of Sokka’s head, stabilising, holding him there. Sokka has sunk right down to the base of Zuko’s dick. He doesn’t know how Sokka acquired the ability to deepthroat him so perfectly. The warmth of his tongue against the vein that runs underneath his dick, the drag of the roof of his mouth over the top— Zuko can’t get enough.
Zuko lets out a high-pitched, genuine moan of pleasure when Sokka swallows around him. He’s not even giving him a blowjob, just sucking him, holding him there like he’s drinking. Like he’s satiated from a drought, and Zuko is the only thing that can quench his thirst.
Zuko catches Sokka’s expression. His mouth is stuffed full of cock, but he’s looking up at him with eyes filled with such determination, if not for the faint gleam of wetness gathering by his long eyelashes that fan out against his cheeks. He’s challenging Zuko. He wants him to let go.
Zuko can’t hold it anymore. His hand, previously tangled in Sokka’s wolftail, grips it by the base harshly, and Zuko gives a short thrust. The friction it provides is insane, sending pleasure bursting throughout his body, only amplified by the satisfaction he feels when Sokka splutters.
Zuko begins a pace. If Sokka tells him to let go, he’ll let go. He’s never experienced the thrill of being sucked off in such a scandalous way— let alone by another man. It’s invigorating, and each sputter, the grip of Sokka’s nails into his thighs spurs a new wave of confidence for Zuko to chase the high he can feel has been building up since Sokka sauntered over and started calling him a ‘ten’.
“Mmmph— Fuck.” Zuko can’t control what’s coming out of his mouth. He’s steadily thrusting now, burning the sight of using Sokka like a toy into his memory. “I’m… gonna come.”
Sokka’s grip immediately moves from his thighs, one hand centred on the milky expanse of skin right above his cock, the other coming to tug at his balls.
Zuko can’t handle it anymore. He’s teetering on the edge, and that knot that has been coiling in his belly is slowly becoming undone, chasing the fire that starts and ends with Sokka.
It’s all too much, and Zuko is almost aware of how loud he’s being. His moans and gasps are punched out of him with every slick drag of Sokka’s mouth over his cock. Even through his shoes, his toes are curling as he speeds up with the desperate need to come, forgetting that Sokka might need to breathe. There’s one deep thrust— then two— before Zuka forces Sokka’s nose flush to his pelvis and lets go.
His orgasm tears its way out of him in thick spurts. Zuko thinks he hears Sokka gag, but he can’t hear much over the buzzing of every nerve ending in his body as his senses turn to mush.
Things clear up as Zuko blinks, and he finally really looks at Sokka. The other is still lapping around him hungrily, and there’s a satiated look on his face, as if he’s been quenched. Zuko feels equal parts mortified and aroused at the cum dripping from the corner of his mouth.
“Sokka,” Zuko whines when it gets too much, gently pulling the other off his cock by the ponytail. Sokka exhales sharply, and Zuko suppresses the interested twitch of his cock.
“How are you so… good at that?” Zuko can’t help but mutter as Sokka rises back to his feet after tucking Zuko back into his pants.
“A true warrior—” Sokka coughs. “—never shares his secrets, Zuko.” Sokka speaks as he fixes his ruined ponytail, and the rasp of his voice sends a fresh new wave of desire through Zuko.
“Ugh, you are so—” Zuko tries.
“So… what? Hm?” Sokka hums, tilting his head. “You finally gonna rate me now?
Zuko’s eye twitches. He’s still coming down from his orgasm, and his limbs feel like jelly, but he still has it in him to play Sokka’s games.
“…Five.”
“What!? Five? Seriously—”
“On the five-point scale,” Zuko smirks, using his line from earlier. With renewed confidence, Zuko surges forward and cups Sokka’s crotch, mirroring what Sokka had done to him earlier.
The sound Sokka lets out is electrifying. An aborted cry of both surprise and desire, it echoes in the closet as Sokka cups his hand over his mouth in instinctive shock.
“…Be quiet, Sokka.” Zuko comments, but he’s groping Sokka’s crotch as if testing the waters to see how loud he can really get. With Sokka’s hands lifted, the delicious curve of his neck is on full display for Zuko, a caramel expanse as if begging to be marked.
Zuko does exactly that. He buries his head into the crook of Sokka’s neck and leaves a trail of hot kisses in his wake.
“Hhmph—” Sokka mumbles something in response that Zuko can’t quite catch through the cage of his fingers.
“What was that?” Zuko hums against Sokka’s skin, gently kissing the soft bruise he had just sucked into the skin.
“S’hot.”
“You’ve said that already,” Zuko replies as he tries to find his way around Sokka’s pants in the dark.
“Yeah. you. Everything about you. Must be a firebender thing that you’re just absolutely scorching.”
Zuko feels his cheeks warm, so he deflects. “Do you want us to get caught?”
“Maybe,” Sokka murmurs through a heady breath as his hips buck, Zuko’s hands slipping past the waistband.
Zuko stifles the exasperated sigh that threatens to escape him; he had never noticed just how much of a brat Sokka really was. With renewed vigour, he doubles his efforts, pulling the fabric of Sokka’s pants down and out of the way as his fingers trace over the warmth of Sokka’s length, and the other keens, letting out an unrestrained groan like he’s melting under Zuko’s touch.
Zuko’s grip is dry at first, but he’s just getting started. His hand slides up the side of Sokka’s length, as if mapping it out and committing it to memory.
Of course, Sokka’s first reaction is to let out that loud whine that should not cause a pit of arousal to curl in Zuko’s stomach. Whether or not to silence the boy in front of him or cull the worst of his own reactions, Zuko surges forward to cup his hand over Sokka’s mouth.
Sokka’s groan is cut off by the rough surface of Zuko’s hand, and he shoots him a scandalised look that quickly dissolves into pleasure as Zuko moves his hand again. It’s a good thing that Zuko chose to cover Sokka’s loudmouth when he did, because there’s the faint rustling outside, and Zuko can sense that whoever was walking in the area earlier had come back.
There’s a moment of pure silence save for Sokka’s heavy, muffled breathing as Zuko stills, but a sudden prick of pain snaps Zuko back to the other as he pulls his hand away.
”Did you just bite me?”
“Yeah, I did.” Sokka heaves out, blue eyes locked onto Zuko’s, as if challenging him. “Cause you keep teasing me—”
Zuko shuts Sokka up by shoving his hand back over his mouth, not daring to hear the rest of the sentence and to risk whoever’s outside hearing it too. Sokka writhes, and Zuko’s dormant hand only slides over his cock at the movement, relishing the way Sokka shudders.
Zuko is almost mesmerised at the sight. With his hair mussed from its ponytail and his clothes in disarray, Zuko shouldn’t feel arousal pooling in his stomach when he just came.
Sokka is hot. He really is. Zuko doesn’t need an ‘attractiveness scale’ to know that his friend is an absolute looker. Zuko relishes the sharpness of his jaw and the flex of his biceps when his hand tentatively continues stroking, and he almost feels disappointed when Sokka’s head lolls downward in pleasure, obscuring the handsome and boyish features from Zuko’s line of sight.
It’s a fact that Zuko is bigger— stronger than Sokka. His strong arms encase the other like a vice. It’s a grip Zuko recalls using frequently during battles to disarm his enemies— but like this, with his slick hand tugging at Sokka’s length, it’s terrifyingly intimate.
The footsteps pause outside, and Zuko can almost sense that whoever it is outside has sensed that something is off. Maybe it’s the slick, obscene schlick of Zuko’s hand. Maybe it’s the rattling of the closet door as Sokka twists and writhes, unable to do anything but take. Or perhaps it’s the muffled groans into Zuko’s wet palm, still cupped over the other’s mouth.
Sokka’s trying to speak, trying to say something as his fingernails dig into Zuko’s flexed forearm, leaving angry red crescents. His muffled whimpers form what Zuko can tell are strings of words. Curiously, Zuko lowers his wetted hand away from Sokka’s mouth and to his neck.
Sokka gasps for air, letting out a wheeze that is so unmistakably Sokka.
Whatever it is, Zuko doesn’t pay it any mind— because Sokka is shaking now, his high whimpers crescendoing into a string of ‘uh, uh, uhs’ as he twitches once, twice, and Zuko can tell he’s close.
He has half the mind to cover Sokka’s mouth again, but some filthy part of Zuko wants to really hear what the other sounds like when he comes from Zuko’s hand. Sokka’s hands flail at Zuko’s biceps and front pathetically, as if both are trying to pull closer and push further away, and it’s all Zuko needs to tighten his grip slightly and speed up, and before he knows it, Sokka is convulsing with an aborted cry, cum spilling into Zuko’s palm.
Zuko is genuinely taken aback, marvelled by the strings of cum that paint his fingers and Sokka’s clothed abdomen. The other is still twitching and Zuko realises he’s on the precipice of pleasure; his hand returns and strokes Sokka’s cock just how he would like it, circling the head before descending down and squeezing.
Sokka whines at this, his hands weakly pushing Zuko’s away from his sensitive cock. Zuko obeys, and the two are drenched in an unfamiliar silence of heavy breathing and rapidly beating hearts, so close they might as well be breathing the air from each other’s lungs.
Zuko takes the chance to tuck Sokka back into his pants, or maybe it’s to feel his warm skin against his again. Zuko doesn’t look away when his gaze meets Sokka’s. Even in the dark, he notices the minute fuzz of hair on Sokka’s skin, and he is instantly reminded of the peaches his mother used to slice for him. His mouth is watering, and he urges just to bite into Sokka’s skin— would it be just as sweet?
“So,” Sokka finally speaks, his voice a little raspy. “Do I get a spot in the royal family now?”
“Ugh,” Zuko groans, rolling his eyes as all infatuation seems to disappear in an instant. Even over Sokka’s laughter, he lolls his head on the door in mock exasperation, only for it to completely give way under his weight, and suddenly they’re tumbling out of the closet.
Zuko is trained to expect the unexpected, and so his hand comes to shield Sokka’s head from crashing against the hard floor, bracing his body to avoid crushing him as suddenly their entire world is bathed in light. Seriously, all that pushing and all it took was a little headbutt to open the door? Unbelievable.
Sokka looks shocked for a moment, bracing himself on his elbows, but his gaze never truly leaves Zuko’s face, as if searching his expression for an answer to a question Zuko doesn’t even know himself.
Zuko comes to, flushing and rolling off Sokka and to the side, adjusting his untied robes now that he can finally see in an effort to look presentable.
“Firelord Zuko, always so put together.” Sokka is teasing him, but he’s redoing his wolftail. “You know, there’s barely anyone on this ship, right? Nobody is gonna know.”
“Really?” Zuko drawls. “You’d better hope that Toph can’t see through metal.”
The expression on Sokka’s face is nothing short of satisfying.
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