The Dinner
The early summer warmth has slowly tuned into the intense mid season heat, pounding down on the ship fiercely. For the members of the crew who had been experienced in this weather, it was nothing more then another summer on the water. For Sokka and Katara, however, for two kids who’d never left the South Pole, it was absolutely brutal.
“I hate this so much,” Sokka groaned, splayed out on the cool metal of their small room. Katara nodded her head up and down, then bent some cool water onto her face.
“I would make some ice, but I’m too hot to right now,” she said as she patted the water on her forehead, ”spirits what I’d give to bend my blood to be cooler or something.”
“Yeah, imagine that.”
“It’s not that bad,” Zuko said from his seat by the window.
“Easy for you to say Mr. I Literally Carry Fire In My Body,” Katara replied, irritated.
Zuko dismissed her comment, “Hey if you think this is bad, try going to the Fire Nation capital in the summer. It gets pretty damn humid.” Then a look of nostalgia graced his face, fleetingly, before his smile dropped.
He hopped off the seat and made his way out of the room.
Sokka propped himself up on his elbows, “Hey where’re you going?” He questioned curiously.
“Outside,” he answered simply.
Katara threw off the arm splayed over her face to stare at him, “Really? In this heat?”
“Trust me, the ship is a metal tin that absorbs heat like crazy, it’s much better outside of it,” he explained simply.
“I’ll trust you,” Sokka said as he quickly got up, limbs lethargic and sweaty. The sun gave his moist skin a goldish-brown near-ethereal glow to it, one Zuko pretended not to notice.
Katara raised an eyebrow at the elongated gaze the two gave one another.
Was there something she was missing here?
“Hey I’ll go out with you guys too,” she said as she quickly hopped to her feet. She pressed a hand to her head, feeling the blood rush back to the rest of her body.
“Ok,” Zuko said shortly, conveying a purposely uncaring tone, almost understanding that Katara was making a statement. It was almost guilty, as if he’d been caught doing something wrong.
Meanwhile, Sokka just looked rather impatient. He tapped his foot on the metal floor, the sound sharply resounding in the quiet room.
“So....,” he drawled out, “are we going outside or are we going to roast in here like three pig sheep?”
The teenagers made their way to the deck of the boat, the sun now a sweltering line on the orange horizon. The ocean breeze was cooling, and so much more refreshing than their sauna of a room.
Katara slumped over the railing, a languid expression on her face.
“You were right Zuko,” she sighed, “this is so much better.” The ocean gently hit the side of the boat, spraying a light mist onto the hull.
“I’m impressed, you even got Katara to admit someone was right,” Sokka nudged him teasingly with his elbow, eliciting that almost-unnoticeable-grin from Zuko.
“I think I’m gonna go for a swim,” Katara announced out of the blue. She was already in the process of taking off her shirt.
“Woah!” Sokka nearly yelled, “who says it’s safe?”
“Sokka I’m a waterbender. Water is where I’m the safest,” Katara explained, now standing in her white under-wrappings.
“Ok just—“
Splash!
The brunette’s head popped up from under the water as a wide smile stretched across her cheeks.
“You two pig chicken’s gonna hop in?”
The two boys looked at one another with identical skeptical expressions on their faces.
“You can go first,” Zuko gestured towards the water.
Sokka shook his head in reply, speaking with faux politeness, “no, I truly insist you do.”
Katara rolled her eyes as she listened to them go back and forth. It was both annoying and endearing, mostly the latter because she was glad that her brother was able to make a friend his age, nevertheless a friend from the Fire Nation out of all places. It was Sokka and Zuko though, so she just had to show her annoyance instead.
“Sprits guys just jump in at the same time!” She finally exclaimed, effectively silencing the duo.
“It’s not like I’m scared or anything,” Sokka tossed his hands up in his attempt to emphasize his statement. He found himself wanting to make sure Zuko understood that loud and clear. Not that he wanted to impress him......
As for Katara, he couldn’t care less if he was acting like a pig chicken in front of her. For crying out loud she’d probably seen him in diapers before.
“I’m not scared either, I just don’t want to get unnecessarily cold and wet when I’m not even hot right now,” Zuko explained.
“Pshhh, I’m not even that warm either,” Sokka quickly tossed back, a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his forehead. Zuko’s gold eyes followed it meticulously until it dropped off his face.
“Right,” he said doubtfully, and Sokka felt his face heat in embarrassment, not from the weather this time. Shit, the cool water was looking more appealing by the minute now.
“You know, I think I changed my mind,” he decided on a whim. He quickly removed the shirt that now stuck to his torso, and then his pants. Zuko just...stood there, blinked, then set his eyes to the ground.
“Well I guess I have to join you now.”
“Yup, pretty much.”
He groaned, little joy present on his face. It took him longer to undress, mostly because of the stupidly intricate armor he wore over his clothes. Once he stood in his undergarments, and Sokka in his loincloth, Katara snickered.
“What’s so funny?” Zuko asked, his brow curled downward.
“Nothing,” she replied innocently. Sokka brushed her off, instead turning to offer a dramatic hand to the firebender.
“Together, your highness?”
Zuko frowned, “don’t call me that.” Sokka grinned mischievously, enjoying the prince’s reaction greatly. Things had changed after that night in Hai Chéng, there was a sense of....care now present between the two of them. But, that didn’t mean he still wasn’t going to tease him whenever possible.
Despite this, Zuko grabbed Sokka’s hand, warm and comforting, just like when he had grabbed it before they danced in the town square together.
“Well? Are we going in?” He questioned as he nodded his head towards the ocean.
Sokka smiled, and shook his head. He squeezed the hand in his as they jumped in unison.
Zuko rose to the surface a few moments before Sokka, who plopped up rather ungraciously with a big breath.
“Shit shit shit it’s cold,” Sokka whispered through clenched, jittering teeth, his arms wrapped around his body tightly. Zuko smoothly pushed his way through the water towards Sokka.
“Here,” Zuko held fire in his palm, bringing it closer. Sokka leaned towards the warmth gratefully.
“Thanks,” he replied. It was rather redundant to be trying to get warm while being in the cold water, but he didn’t mind getting to lean closer to the prince, who’s face was glowing in the flames.
Katara looked between the two suspiciously, getting a sense that there genuinely was....something.
Holy crap.
Once Sokka noticed her staring, she gave him a sly smirk.
“Why are you looking at us like that?” He narrowed his eyes, still treading close to the firebender.
“They should write a story on you two,” she squeezed her hair casually.
The two boys met eyes for a moment, before Zuko spoke.
“A story?”
“You know,” she leaned back and floated, “like the ones in the flowery scrolls about the epic romances of the past.”
Sokka and Zuko quickly created space between themselves, both their faces a bright shade of red.
“What do you mean—“ “epic romances!— “You have no idea what you’re—.”
They overlapped one another in their hasty denial, so Katara could hardly hear what either actually had to say, but she giggled at them anyway.
“Oh oh, they should call it the Love Story of the Fire Nation Prince and the Water Tribe Warrior? With capital letters,” she widened her arms with each word, a broad smile on her face showing her amusement.
Sokka pouted like an angry polar bear dog, before splashing the water around him directly into Katara’s face. For a moment, she was shocked, then she shook her head.
“Big brother, you picked this fight with the wrong person.”
She bent a significant amount of water into a small wave, then sent it towards her brother.
Needless to say, he didn’t look too happy once he emerged from under it, salty water burning his eyes.
Soon the two were what looked like attacking each other, and Sokka was clearly losing, from what Zuko observed. It didn’t seem genuinely hostile, it reminded him more of like when him and Azula would play in the ocean together as children. Just two kids messing around.
It helped distract from what Katara was joking about. It was a joke.
Right?
It wasn’t like he and Sokka were actually into one another. Yes, he was the first person since Mai that he found true and real comfort in. Yes, he felt a strange feeling in his stomach when he was close to him, but that’s how it is with everyone. Besides, Sokka was a boy, and he was the prince of the Fire Nation. He wasn’t allowed to like him.
So, no, they weren’t a love story like Katara said. Not even close. If anything, they would be a tragedy. One that ends with one of them hurting each other because yes, they are two boys from two sides of this war, this war that just kept taking and taking and taking and—
—Sokka had a pretty smile and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Even his laugh, which was ringing in the air as Katara assaulted him with water, sat in him. Speaking of, the siblings seemed to be wrapping up...whatever they were still doing.
“Ok,” Sokka panted, “I-I think I’m done.”
Katara looked just as exhausted, “me too.”
The two laid against the quiet golden ripples, the setting sun’s reflection bright and solid against the water.
The peaceful air was cut but his Uncle’s voice yelling,
“Nephew, where are you? We have to leave for the dinner soon?”
“What dinner?” Katara questioned as she propped her head up.
Zuko mentally slapped himself in the face. After a whole day of sitting around and actually enjoying his existence he had completely forgotten.
“It’s just this stupid dinner that the Navy has every year that the whole crew has to go to. Commander Zhao is hosting this year.”
Both siblings groaned, splashing the water briefly.
“Out of all people,” Sokka rolled his eyes.
Zuko snorted, “Trust me, I had the same reaction.”
As much as the three wanted to stay in the water, they eventually dragged their way back onto the ship, which was docking soon.
The sun had set over the horizon once they finished drying off and dressing, leaving the dark sky with a crescent moon. The air was warm, and the bugs chirped incessantly from the bushes and trees.
By the time they made it off of the boat, many other vessels had already docked, presumably also attending the same event.
“Popular event huh?” Sokka pointed out.
“Indeed, it is attended by almost every ship in the western navy that isn’t actively fighting,” Iroh explained.
Once they reached Zhao’s ship, Zuko took a deep breath in, his fists clenched tightly. Sokka noticed this, and in an attempt to placate him, he thought of the first stupid thing to say on his mind.
“Hey don’t let Mr. Mutton Chops ruin the night. I’m sure for as much of an asshole is he he’ll at least have some good....meat?”
“Good meat?” Zuko repeated, an eyebrow quirked at the strange statement.
“Sokka said Commander Zhao has good meat!” Katara said loudly, barely holding in her laughter.
Sokka’s jaw dropped, “That’s not what I—,”
Zuko joined in with his sister, “that is not a visual I need.”
“I think you should say it again louder Sokka,” she continued smugly, “I’m sure Zhao would appreciate it.”
“I hate you so much,” Sokka mumbled, his arms crossed.
Katara smiled brightly, “I know.”
As irritated as he felt, he was glad to see that Zuko seemed less gloomy then before, more lighthearted. It made going into this dreadful dinner just a bit more bearable.
“Prince Zuko and General Iroh,” a sickly familiar voice called from the deck. They looked up to meet a twisted grin.
Fucking. Zhao.
“And company,” the commander continued as he eyed the water tribe siblings distastefully.
“Commander Zhao, we appreciate your hospitality,” Iroh said, bowing slowly. Zuko did not repeat the gesture.
“Of course,” Zhao stiffly returned the bow, but kept his eyes on Zuko, who was too busy angrily staring at something else to care. Sokka noted that the older man seemed irritated at Zuko’s lack of acknowledgement, as if a teenager’s attention should matter to a grown man.
“Little to say tonight?” Zhao mocked, leaning in, far too close. Sokka noticed the grimace that fell over Zuko’s face, before he averted his eyes and pushed past the intruding man.
“I’m just ready to get this night over with,” Zuko mumbled, half in reply to Zhao and half to himself.
He wasn’t sure if it was just him who saw, but Sokka watched as Zhao gave the prince a once over when he walked away. It was slow and deliberate, and the look of interest that filled the commander’s dark eyes made his skin crawl. Katara was busy running her hand through the tangles in her hair, and Iroh had already moved to catch up with his nephew.
He already disliked the man for insulting him and Katara the last time he was aboard Zuko’s ship, but now he was just straight up unsettled by him. There just wasn’t something......right about the way he looked at Zuko. Not right at all.
He considered confiding in Katara, who was walking beside him, but figured she hadn’t been paying attention, and maybe it was just his own overactive mind playing with him.
Hopefully.
..................................................
He would trade his left leg to not be here right now, sitting next to Zhao at a dinner table filled with other boisterous navy members. His uncle sat across from him, speaking jovially to old friends, while Sokka was seated to his right, as if that's any consolation. Why Zhao had insisted they be placed next to each other, he wouldn’t know.
He noticed Sokka and Katara fanning themselves with their hand, their foreheads glistening with sweat.
“Shit it’s a million degrees in here,” Sokka very unsubtly announced to his sister. He honestly never failed to be charming to Zuko, and in this moment, provided a strange sense of comfort.
“You know I would help but,” he did a gesture of him producing fire, and it made Sokka quirk an irritated, but also amused eyebrow at him. The poor siblings seemed miserable, and the prince couldn’t help but feel bad for them. After all, they were only here because of him. Not that he actually wanted to be here either.
He felt Zhao’s foot tap his ankle from under the table, unsure if it was intentional or not. He wanted to react with immediate anger, but he held it in.
‘Patience is how you are able to get what you want in this world,’ he remembered his uncle saying in the past.
He groaned and turned to the man seated next to him, well, he didn’t have to turn much, because Zhao seemed to be right there.
“You mind cracking a window in here, your guests aren’t having all that great of a time,” he asked, barely politely.
Zuko didn’t like the way he chuckled at him, but also how he looked down at him like a child. Or maybe it just felt like that, because physically he towered over him, even seated.
“Is saying please too hard for a royal?” He commented, his breath hitting against the sensitive skin of his scar. He curled his lip in discomfort.
Whatever this was, this constant breaking of physical personal boundaries, it was a challenge. He couldn’t see why else the commander was so dead set on shoving himself up in his face for the past two years of his life other than to force him to fear, to cower beneath him.
But he held no fear for him, so he accepted the challenge.
He didn’t move away from Zhao, even though he was mere inches from him, and straightened in his seat. He wasn’t afraid.
“Please,” he gritted, his face steady and tight. He didn’t like having to force cordiality with this man, but he was willing to do so if it gave his friends a little bit of comfort.
To his surprise, Zhao listened to him, not before his eyes glittered at the prince’s small submission. He quickly ordered his guards to open the windows to allow for the cool night air to come in.
It was a relieving to see the pleased expressions on Katara and Sokka’s face, even if it meant now he had Zhao’s attention on him. Sokka even began to eat the steaming food in front of him, appearing to be satisfied by it.
“As much as I hate the asshole who runs this,” Sokka said to him quietly, “I got to admit they have better food here than on your ship.”
Zuko scoffed gently, “well our precious Commander Zhao here isn’t running on a banished budget, now is he?”
“Fair point.”
As Sokka continued to eat, Zuko noticed Katara striking up a conversation with one of Zhao’s female crew members; something about hair and braids and such. Somehow, multiple other women, and one man, also got roped into the discussion.
“Hey I’m gonna go show some of these guys my braiding techniques, we’ll just be outside,” Katara informed her brother, while also making eye contact with Zuko. She seemed enthusiastic and happy enough to not brother Sokka that she was heading off alone, so he nodded in reply.
She waved quickly as she skirted outside, “don’t do anything stupid!”
Both looked at one another with doubt, laughing softly. Zuko pursed his lips immediately once he realized it wasn’t just him and Sokka, and that he couldn’t be as loose here as he could be when it was just them. Because he couldn’t catch a break, Zhao acknowledged him once more.
“I didn’t know you had the capability to laugh, Prince Zuko,” he said, not in a friendly manner, but in a prying, cruel kind of way.
“Oh trust me I do,” he shot back quickly, “I just don’t have the desire to do it when I’m around you,” he finished blankly, reaching over to grab and drink out of the cup set in front of him. It must have been some sort of alcohol, because the zing nearly made him do a double take.
Zhao’s face was unhappy, but still searching for a way to berate him for anything, to distract from the prince’s insult.
“How’s the avatar search going?”
Zuko clenches at this. It’s an easy blow, a boring, basic one at this point, but it gets a reaction out of him every time. To be honest however, the search seemed to be in the back of his head as of lately, his mind filled with thoughts just more enjoyable then a hopeless search.
Like laughing in the water and Sokka’s grin and the music playing as he swayed with him—
Zhao was speaking apparently, but he had spaced out and missed most of it.
“—I’m still waiting for your answer on the invasion,” the other man spoke, his voice low.
Oh yeah, another thing he’d forgotten about.
“Huh?” He asked, knowing what he was talking about but also not quote processing it. Zhao studied him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.
“You know, we never did get to have that conversation the last time I boarded your ship because of your...,” he paused, then glared at Sokka, who was still busy eating, “...little savage lookalike friends.”
Zuko was taking another drink from the cup to keep himself distracted, but harshly placed it back down.
“Don’t call them that,” he shot back. Zhao seemed legitimately surprised at the prince’s hasty defense, then slanted his eyes, thinking.
“They’re my crew members,” Zuko added in quickly, trying to cover his tracks, “I don’t want you insulting them.”
Zhao hummed, but clearly didn’t trust that. There wasn’t anything Zuko could do to change what knowledge Zhao now had; that he cared for Sokka and Katara. Something he could use against him.
“If you insist, your highness—anyways, would you like to go discuss this privately? Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the original conversation.”
‘Not really,’ Zuko wanted to reply, but Zhao was annoying and maybe this would finally get him off his back.
“Ok,” he replied simply. He and Zhao subtly stood up from their chairs, not drawing much attention to themselves. His uncle was invested in a game of pai sho, Katara was teaching women how to braid properly, and Sokka was the only one who noticed since he was seated right next to him.
“Hey where’re you going?” He questioned, a bit confused and disappointed at the same time.
“Me and Zhao just need to discuss some business. I won’t be gone for that long,” he explained, turning to leave. Sokka gripped his hand however, and Zuko whipped his head around. Sokka looked worried.
“Zuko, I don’t think going off with him is the best idea.”
He didn’t move his hand, although the other boy was gripping it fiercely, pleadingly.
“Why?”
Sokka blinked a few times, and he seemed to be searching for words to say.
He settled with unease in his eyes, “he creeps me out.”
Zuko finally whipped his hand away, scoffing.
“So? I know how to handle him. I don’t need protection,” he explained fiercely. That didn’t shake the look on Sokka’s face, so he leaned down so he could speak quietly.
“Look, if he murders me, you can tell my body that you were right all along.”
Sokka didn’t like the joke all that much, since his brow was furrowed deeply.
“Zuko that’s not why I’m—“
Zuko was already leaving the room with the older man, so Sokka cut himself off.
He was tempted to go follow them, but he knew that’s not what Zuko wanted. He had to trust him in that he could protect himself, after all, he’d seen him kick ass before.
He wasn’t all that hungry anymore, so he decided to join his sister in whatever it was that she was doing, even if being the only boy there was rather awkward.
Meanwhile, Zuko sat stiffly in Zhao’s office—or room, he couldn’t quite tell considering there was a desk and a bed in it. He had nice, red silk sheets, the kind he had back in the palace. He searched his memory to remember what they felt like on his skin.
Zhao had just lit the lanterns in his room, and the warmth was almost pleasant. He tapped his finger against the hard wood of the chair.
Zhao sat down next to him, handing him a drink. He looked into the cup to see more of the alcohol he had drunk earlier. It was another challenge, seeing if he’s too much of a coward to refuse the putrid liquid. He sighed, and took a big gulp of it, feeling the burn down his throat.
Zhao watched him intently, saw the poorly concealed nervousness in the quick glance the prince gave him, and chuckled.
“Never thought I’d see that little boy from all those years ago toss a drink back like that.”
Zuko slammed the glass down on the arm of the chair, feeling a light buzz.
“Well I’m not a little boy anymore,” he sneered. Suddenly, he questioned why he was here. He wanted to go back to the dinner table with Sokka.
“No, you’re not,” Zhao murmured, his eyes far off as they moved up and down the prince.
Zuko didn’t miss it this time, and looked directly into Zhao’s eyes, the dark brown now illuminated by bright fire. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and cleared his throat,
“Umm...so you wanted to uh—talk about the invasion?”
Zhao’s eyes didn’t shift, but he answered, “Of course.”
He got up and grabbed Zuko’s cup, refilling it to the brim before handing it back to him. Zuko reluctantly began to drink once more.
He continued, “now I’m not sure there is much to discuss. I’m just merely here to figure out why you haven’t been able to make a decision to join me or not.”
Zuko quickly finished the cup, and wow, now he was feeling a bit nauseous.
“I-I just don’t get why now you want me to work with you. You—you’ve always hated me.”
He placed a hand to his forehead to steady himself, blinking to focus his eyes.
“Well, that was before I began to notice your potential,” he added, leaning closer, “I know others don’t see that, but I do.”
This didn’t feel right. The lanterns no longer gave a comfortable warmth, but now gave the atmosphere a strangely intimate feel. One that was closing in on him, wrapping itself around him.
Zhao was smiling at him, it was a scary sight, and he took in the teenager’s dizziness.
“Just a little something you should know, your highness, don’t drink three hard drinks in one night if you never drink alcohol.”
There was a hand on his leg, something meant to placate him. Considering it was on his upper thigh, however, it meant something very, very different. He moved Zhao’s hand away harshly.
“What are you doing?” He spoke sternly, fighting through his drunkenness.
Zhao gave him a strange look, it was anger and something else. Something else—
There was a noise by the doorway, someone almost passing by but stopping.
Sokka.
“Oh hey,” he said awkwardly, “I was just looking for the.....bathroom!”
It was painfully obvious that he was lying, but it was nice—no, relieving—to see someone that wasn’t Zhao, especially Sokka.
“Your uncle wanted to leave now,” he blurted out, another clear lie, and Zuko shook his head, going to stand up.
And then he felt himself falling, falling—then Sokka was rushing towards him, and he was caught in his arms. He leaned into his heartbeat for a moment, then pushed himself back up, looking into concerned blue eyes that silently asked ‘are you ok?’
Zhao was standing up as well now, looking in between the fifteen year olds. Zuko had a hand on Sokka’s shoulder to steady himself.
“You don’t have to leave with your uncle you know,” Zhao added silkily, “I thought you weren’t a little boy anymore.”
Zuko realizes he’s set a precedent with the acceptance of the alcohol. He’s acknowledged that Zhao’s been sending him challenges, and that he’s willing to meet them. But as he clenched Sokka’s arm, the urge to throw up rising up in his throat, and the feeling of Zhao’s hand on his thigh lingering, he decided he’d had enough of proving himself for the night.
“I’m not leaving because my uncle is, I’m leaving because I want to leave, goodnight Commander.”
Sokka took that as an exit, so he turned around carefully and walked out of the room, Zuko still holding on. He shuddered when he met Zhao’s eyes, filled with fury directed at him, and disappointment at Zuko.
He took in the intoxicated teenager as they walked down the hallway to the dining room, feeling worry sitting in his stomach when he saw how distressed he looked.
“Zuko, what happened?” His voice was quiet yet shaky, laden with concern.
Zuko raised an eyebrow, dismissing the question, “nothing happened, can we please go outside, I don’t feel good.”
Sokka looked at him seriously, as if he could tell he was lying. Well, that was true, partially. Zhao had just touched his leg, nothing else. And that was hardly anything noteworthy.
“Zuko I—“
Zhao’s voice cut in behind them, and they both silently cursed to themselves. He was looking into the crowded dinner area.
“Hmm,” he pointed at Iroh, who was still intensely playing pai sho.
“That looks like a man that’s about to leave,” he added sarcastically.
Zuko was too drunk to reply, so Sokka put up his fiercest front.
“Look, he’s not feeling well, can you leave us alone? Please?”
Sokka couldn’t stop the tremor that was coursing through him as Zhao walked up to him, practically snaring, “I think the prince can speak for himself, you rat.”
Zuko raised a finger, as if he meant to reply, but as he opened his mouth, he turned pale and swallowed.
Then he puked all over the commander’s shoes.
Sokka slapped a hand over his mouth, both in shock and in an attempt to suppress laughter. Zhao took a large step back, his jaw open in disgust and horror.
“You little shithead,” he growled as he wiped the contents of Zuko’s stomach off his pants. It was beyond satisfying to see the high quality of the pants be ruined.
Zuko was leaning forward with his hands on his thighs, still looking a little green as he breathed heavily.
“Maybe if you had any respect for people’s personal space—,” he panted, “—that wouldn’t have had to happen.”
Sokka could have sworn he saw a vein pop out of Zhao’s forehead, before he grabbed Zuko’s hand and quickly made his way to the exit. All eyes were on them, and he heard a few snickers in the crowd. He ignored them.
The night air was unbelievably refreshing, and Sokka didn’t realize how much he was sweating until now. He could see Zuko was too, but he didn’t notice for long because he was again leaning over and throwing up on the ground. Sokka laid a gentle hand on his back and held his hair back.
“Fuck, I shouldn’t have taken all those drinks from him,” Zuko gasped, a bit of drool hanging from his mouth. Sokka tried not to be obvious in his disgust.
“Then why did you?” He was irritated now, frustrated at Zuko’s impulsiveness.
Zuko looked at him with glazed eyes. He unceremoniously wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
“Cuz I had to,” he slurred.
“Why? Because you had to prove yourself to him? News flash, you don’t need to prove yourself to someone like him,” Sokka raised his voice, didn’t realize how upset he was until now.
Zuko turned away, “you wouldn’t get it.”
Sokka threw his arms up, “I wouldn’t get it? Zuko of course I get it! I’ve been trying to prove myself to everyone my whole damn life!”
“You wouldn’t get it,” he blankly repeated, his face wasn’t visible; Sokka couldn’t tell what he was feeling, but he could see his fists clenched.
“Yes I—“
Zuko whipped around in an instant, his face contorted in disoriented anger.
“Does your whole fucking nation think you’re a coward? Did they all watch as you knelt on the ground and begged like a baby because you didn’t want to fight your father an—and did they hear you scream when he brought fire to your face and—“
He stopped when he saw the horror on Sokka’s face, wide in his eyes. He felt angry tears streaming down his face. His hands were shaking, and he watched as his tears pit-pattered onto his palms.
“I have to prove myself,” he whispered hoarsely.
“No.”
“I have to—“
“No Zuko you don’t—“
“WHAT AM I IF I DON’T!” He yelled, mere inches from Sokka’s face.
He felt Sokka’s quick breath on his skin, and felt the strange urge to lean forward, touch his skin to his own. Sokka’s own eyes looked watery, like a broad, gleaming ocean of blue.
“My friend,” he answered simply, his voice so quiet that he hardly heard him.
And the tears came pouring, sobs racking his whole body, years and years and years of shame piled on, until two words of comfort tipped it over.
My friend.
He covered his face with his hands desperately, gasping for air as the tears kept on coming.
Suddenly, arms wrapped around him, pulling him close. He stayed stiff at first, then melted into the embrace, burying his face into Sokka’s shoulder. Tears soaked the thin red fabric, but Sokka didn’t care.
He just held him tight, and wordlessly promised not to let go.