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Sometimes Sokka’s insecurities lead him to do really dumb shit.
He’s terrified of being a bother—he’s not sure why that is, but it’s been dictating his life for as long as he can remember. He doesn’t ask for help, he rarely talks about his problems, and he tries his very hardest to not be a nuisance.
It’s gotten better with Zuko. Before, during the war, Sokka was the oldest, he was the caretaker. He looked out for everyone, and he didn’t really have anyone to look out for him—but he could look out for himself. But now, with Zuko, he’s made it far easier. He takes some of the pressure off Sokka’s back, and Sokka’s immensely grateful for it.
Zuko’s fucking perfect. He always asks Sokka how he is, notices when he’s acting off, reminds Sokka that he’s not a burden, that it’s not a chore for Zuko to listen to how he’s feeling. That Zuko wants to listen to him, wants to take care of him. Sokka doesn’t get it, and sometimes doesn’t believe him. But he tries to.
It’s been three years since the war ended, almost a year since he and Zuko got together, and Sokka still feels like such an annoyance bothering people with his problems, even Zuko.
Sokka knows it’s stupid, but he can’t help it. His brain is always sabotaging him.
The stupider thing is the absolute lengths that Sokka goes to to seem okay when he is most definitely not.
Sokka keeps his hand pressed into his side as he makes his way back into and through the palace. He sends councilmen and servants smiles and greets them by name if he knows them, explaining that he can’t talk for too long but it’s good to see them.
It’s just a little stab wound. Sokka really didn’t mean for the whole thing to escalate so quickly, and now he’s bleeding out.
He’s dealt with plenty of injuries though, he knows what to do.
He gets back to his and Zuko’s room, knowing Zuko’s off in a meeting but still exhaling in relief when he’s not inside.
Sokka gets to the bathroom and tries to strip his tunic off quickly so he can put pressure back on the wound. The once blue fabric sash he tied around his torso is now a deep red—dammit, he loved that thing.
Sokka gently pulls the fabric away from his skin, wincing as blood oozes out of the wound. Not looking too good, but the bleeding has stopped enough.
He grabs the bandages they keep in the bathroom, wrapping them around his torso. The fabric stings against the wound but he keeps wrapping until he’s satisfied with the tightness and coverage.
He looks at himself in the mirror, assessing his work. Tui, he’s a fucking idiot, how did he get stabbed? He groans, running a hand down his face.
And now he has to hide this from Zuko.
It’s not like Sokka wants to hide it, he hates lying to his boyfriend. But Zuko’s been so busy and so stressed lately, swamped in work and meetings. Sokka doesn’t want to add this to his plate, Zuko doesn’t need another thing on his mind. Sokka doesn’t want to bother him.
Sokka shoves his now-bloodied tunic into the bottom of his dresser—he’ll need to find a way to get rid of that at some point. He grabs another tunic and slips it over his head, the movement making him wince.
He checks the clock—oh shit he’s 15 minutes late for a meeting.
Just one thing after another, isn’t it?
Sokka grabs his bag filled with scrolls and papers, speed-walking to the meeting room. His side is hurting like hell but it’s fine, he’s fine, he has a duty to his nation and Zuko’s, so he has to go to this meeting.
He finally reaches the meeting room, cracking the door open and stumbling in. The room goes quiet and everyone turns to look at Sokka, Zuko at the head of the table, eyebrow raised.
“Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late, carry on!” Sokka says quickly, making his way over to Zuko’s side. Ambassador Sai nods and continues talking as Sokka sits down with a huff.
“Hey,” Zuko whispers, nudging Sokka in the arm. “You okay?”
Sokka glances over at him, at Zuko’s furrowed eyebrow and worried expression. Sokka smiles and hopes it’s convincing. “Yeah, just got sucked into some work and lost track of time. What did I miss?”
Zuko’s expression softens at that and he smiles back. “Not much. Just going over some trade stuff.”
Zuko turns his attention back to Ambassador Sai, but not before slipping his hand into Sokka’s.
—
They go through the rest of the day and Sokka is quietly impressed with his own acting skills—Zuko doesn’t think anything’s wrong. Well, Zuko has asked him a few times if something was going on, to which Sokka quickly shook his head and assured him he was fine. He feels horrible for lying but Zuko’s already stressed about, y’know, leading an entire country. He really doesn’t need another thing.
Sokka’s side hurts like hell but it’s fine. He has to sleep on his back and can’t raise his arms that high but he makes do. Zuko doesn’t seem to notice. Well, he is a bit confused about Sokka sleeping on his back, because normally Sokka’s a big cuddler, but hopefully Zuko doesn’t think that it’s too abnormal.
Sokka acts as normal as he can, and he has to say, he thinks he does a pretty good job.
—
“So, anything planned yet for our anniversary?” Zuko sends Sokka a smile, the two walking back to their room after a meeting the next day. They’re holding hands, Sokka swinging them back and forth.
Right, fuck Sokka needs to do that. He has a ton of ideas, but he needs to actually pick something out.
“Well are you really making us stay in the palace? You don’t wanna travel at all? Even for a few days, it’s our one year! That’s big!” Sokka grins, shaking Zuko’s hand.
Zuko rolls his eyes with a smile. “I can try to clear some time. But four days, max. Okay?”
Zuko raises a knowing eyebrow as Sokka nods, the two reaching their bedroom.
Sokka opens the door, turning to Zuko once they’re both inside and the door is shut. He rests his forearms over Zuko’s shoulders, ignoring the sharp pang it sends to his torso. “I’ll take what I can get. Is there something so wrong with wanting to get my boyfriend alone?”
Zuko smiles. “No, but you get me alone pretty frequently, Sokka. Like… right now.”
He thumbs at Sokka’s lip, teasing. Sokka rolls his eyes with a scoff, leaning forward and kissing Zuko. He’s asking for it.
Zuko easily returns it, and yeah Sokka loves alone time with Zuko. Even while his torso is hurting like hell.
Sokka kisses him harder, humming in content as Zuko pulls Sokka’s hair out of his wolftail, threading a hand into it.
Zuko pushes Sokka against the wall, slipping a hand up his shirt, and oh. Fuck.
Usually Sokka would be all for it. But. Y’know. Stab wound.
Sokka feels Zuko hesitate against the kiss, hand finding the bandage as he pulls away, eyebrow furrowed.
Fuck.
“Zuko—” Sokka starts before Zuko lifts the hem of Sokka’s tunic up, exposing the bandages wrapped around Sokka’s torso.
Zuko furrows his brow, jaw clenching. He looks back up. “What happened?”
“Nothing, babe, it’s fine—” Sokka starts, pulling his tunic down. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid.
“Don’t. I knew something was wrong, when did this happen?” Zuko asks, voice more tense. He rests a hand on Sokka’s waist but his limbs are all stiff.
Yikes, guess Sokka wasn’t as under-the-radar as he thought. Sokka sighs, he knows he isn’t getting out of Zuko’s interrogation. He tucks some hair behind his own ear, looking down. “Yesterday. But I’m okay.”
“Sokka!” Zuko practically yelps and his hand falls off of Sokka’s waist, Sokka looking up at his anxiety-ridden expression. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” Sokka mumbles, biting his lip. I didn’t want you to be annoyed.
Zuko stares at him, eyebrow furrowed, skin creasing around his scar. He purses his lips. “Tell me what happened.”
Sokka knows that Zuko intentionally doesn’t frame it as a question. Sokka’s going to have to tell him sooner or later.
“It was dumb,” Sokka says, moving away from the wall. He makes his way over to their bed, sitting down on the side and wincing in the process. “It was really stupid and I won’t do it again, I promise.”
Zuko sighs, leaning against the bedpost. He crosses his arms, fingers fidgeting with his sleeve. “Okay, so what happened?”
Sokka purses his lips. Zuko’s clearly upset, and this isn’t gonna make him feel any better. “I was at the market, trying to find those specific fire flakes you like, and I… overheard these guys talking about you.”
“Spirits, Sokka,” Zuko scoffs in disbelief, running a hand down his face.
“I didn’t know they were gonna pull a knife out! Zuko, they were saying horrible shit about you, I couldn’t just stand there!” Sokka exclaims, throwing a hand out.
“Yes, you could’ve! And you should have!” Zuko exclaims, moving away from the bedpost, looking over at Sokka in disbelief. “People are allowed to dislike me, I’m not my father, I’m not going to force them to worship me.”
“I-I know that,” Sokka mumbles. “It wasn’t just them disagreeing with how you rule they were… saying shit about you. Y’know… as a person.”
Zuko sighs, pursing his lips. “About me being gay.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t just stand there. They could throw out all the shit they want about me, but they don’t get to talk about you like that!” Sokka exclaims, throwing a hand up.
Zuko furrows his eyebrow. “They were saying shit about you?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m the Fire Lord’s boyfriend—the boyfriend of the male ruler of a historically homophobic country, and I’m from the Southern Water Tribe. Of course they were saying shit about me,” Sokka scoffs, eyebrows furrowed like it’s obvious. Because it kinda is. Zuko knows that, he’s seen how Sokka’s been treated in meetings and when they go out for dinner.
Zuko looks far more upset about that than the fact that his citizens were actively talking shit about him. He huffs, walking halfway across the room before turning around and walking back towards Sokka, like he’s not sure what to do with the information or his anger.
Zuko takes a deep breath, looking Sokka in the eye. “That’s not fucking okay.”
Sokka sighs. “Babe, it’s fine. It doesn’t get to me. Hey.”
Sokka grabs Zuko’s hand before he can go back to pacing the room, pulling him to sit on the bed. Zuko chews at his lip, clearly thinking. Sokka gives him the time, sitting patiently and rubbing the back of Zuko’s hand with his thumb.
“I don’t like that they were saying shit about you,” Zuko sighs through his nose, jaw clenching.
“I know,” Sokka hums, lifting Zuko’s hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Dating the Fire Lord isn’t easy. People hating me comes with the job, I knew that going into it.”
“I wish you didn’t have to deal with it in the first place,” Zuko mumbles, pursing his lips.
Sokka smiles and drops his and Zuko’s hands down to rest on his thigh. “That would be nice. I promise it’s okay.”
He surprisingly finds himself meaning it, too.
“I’m still mad at you for hiding a fucking stab wound from me,” Zuko stares at Sokka, golden eyes upset and hurt. Spirits, this is the last thing Sokka wanted to happen.
“I’m sorry,” Sokka frowns. It’s sort of ironic, how hiding his wound from Zuko was really the thing that bothered him. Sokka did it so he wouldn’t bother him.
Zuko pauses, sighing as Sokka looks down at his hands, picking at a hangnail. He really didn’t mean to make Zuko upset.
“…It’s not a pain to take care of you, Sokka,” Zuko says softly as Sokka looks up at him. Sokka’s eyebrows raise—he doesn’t know why he thought he’d get out of the situation without Zuko reading him like a book. “You’re not annoying for having wants and needs. For asking for help. I want you to tell me if anything’s going on, I wanna take care of you, I always want to help you feel better. If I can.”
Sokka frowns. “You do. Always.”
Zuko smiles, gently using one finger to tuck a piece of Sokka’s hair behind his ear. “Good. But I can help better if you tell me what’s going on. I promise it’s not annoying, or too much, or anything you think it is.”
Sokka chews at his lip. He knows Zuko means it—he never lies to really anyone, but Sokka especially. It always surprises him, every time Zuko reassures Sokka that he’s not a burden. He thought Zuko would have changed his mind by now.
Sokka tries for a small smile, lifting his hand with his pinky up. “Pinky promise?”
Zuko huffs a small laugh as he hooks their pinkies together.
“Of course,” Zuko smiles, leaning forward and kissing Sokka. Sokka smiles against it—how’d he get so lucky? “I’m really glad you’re okay.”
Sokka nods, dropping Zuko’s pinky. “Me too.”
“No more fighting people who dislike me. As sweet as you are, you’re also crazy,” Zuko kisses Sokka’s forehead as Sokka pouts. “Now when’s the last time you changed these bandages?”
Zuko lifts Sokka’s tunic up a bit so he can see the bandages, a bit of red seeping through them. Zuko looks up at Sokka with a clenched jaw but an otherwise (surprisingly) neutral expression. “Should probably do that soon.”
Sokka nods, huffing a small laugh, smile not reaching his eyes. “Yeah, probably.”
“I’ll go grab new bandages,” Zuko says, standing up. Sokka furrows his eyebrows.
“I can do it—”
“Nope,” Zuko raises his eyebrow in warning, walking over to the bathroom, “I’m doing it. Because I want to. Because I love you.”
Sokka huffs and chews at his cheek as Zuko gets to the bathroom. Sokka can hear him rustling through cabinets until he comes back with bandages and a bowl with water and a washcloth in it.
“Wow, speedy service,” Sokka raises his eyebrows.
“Only the best for you,” Zuko places everything on the bedside table, smiling that soft, perfect smile. He stands in front of Sokka who’s still sitting on the bed, glancing at his torso. “Need help with your shirt?”
Sokka shakes his head. “I got it.”
He grabs for the bottom of his shirt and struggles getting it over his head, Zuko eventually just pulling it off for him.
“Wow, that eager to get me shirtless?” Sokka smirks, ignoring how sore his side still is.
Zuko rolls his eyes with a smile, dropping the shirt beside Sokka and starting to unwrap his bandages. Zuko’s hands are soft and steady, handling Sokka gently. “I knew you’d make a fucking joke.”
“And you’re still here, wow you must really like me,” Sokka hums with a smile.
“I am unfortunately very much in love with you,” Zuko replies, sending Sokka a smile that makes Sokka’s chest fluttery before all the bandages come off. There’s an extra piece of cloth pressed right against the wound, which Zuko carefully removes. He sighs softly, and Sokka can tell he’s trying to not come off as too upset.
Sokka swallows, not able to come up with another witty comeback as Zuko wrings out the washcloth to wipe away the blood. It’s weird, sitting here and letting someone else deal with his own wounds. Sokka doesn’t think this has ever happened before, certainly not while on Team Avatar. Any wounds he got he patched up himself, because why should two 12 year olds and a 14 year old have to worry about that?
Zuko holds Sokka’s unwounded side with one hand, the other one very gently pressing the washcloth to the wound. His eyebrow is slightly furrowed—Sokka can’t tell if it’s from focus or if he’s upset.
Zuko glances up at him. “That okay?”
Sokka swallows and nods, Zuko looking back down.
This is weird. This is weird and Sokka’s not sure he likes it, he’d rather just do it by himself. Yeah it’s hard sometimes but he’s used to it, he doesn’t wanna bug anyone, least of all Zuko, and Zuko shouldn’t feel obligated to help just because they’re dating, Sokka really can handle it—
“Honey. Relax,” Zuko hums, rubbing softly at Sokka’s unwounded side. He looks up at Sokka, eyebrow knit in concern. “I’ve got you.”
Sokka swallows, nodding as he takes a deep breath. He’s in good hands, he knows that. And Zuko wants to help. So why does Sokka feel so stressed?
Sokka never asks for help and he hates accepting it. He’s an independent guy—he knows what he needs and what he has to do to get it. He’s not great at taking care of himself in general, but that shouldn’t be another person’s job. Not when people have their own things to worry about, their own problems and stressors. Sokka doesn’t ever want to add to that.
“Hey,” Zuko moves his hand down to Sokka’s thigh, getting his attention. His other hand is gently holding the washcloth against Sokka’s side. Zuko’s eyes are all worried and great, that’s all Sokka’s doing. Good fucking going. “What’s going on?”
Sokka shakes his head, swallowing. “I’m fine.”
Zuko purses his lips, looking back down at the wound. “That’s not what I asked.”
“I’m… just not used to this. Someone taking care of me like this. I guess,” Sokka shrugs, scratching the back of his neck and not looking at Zuko.
“…It’s nice, when you let someone else take care of you for a minute. Takes the weight off your shoulders. And it’s taking the weight off my shoulders too, knowing you’re getting good help.”
Sokka looks down at Zuko, the man gently drying the wound. Sokka silently wishes his body would stop being so tense for half a damn second.
Zuko looks up, stilling. “Do you want me to stop?”
Sokka swallows, taking a deep breath. Let Zuko help.
Sokka shakes his head.
Zuko smiles. “Okay. Wanna talk about something else as I finish? Anniversary plans?”
Yes, that he can do.
“I still feel like we should go away for a few days. Just us,” Sokka hums, slowly unclenching his fists.
“Okay. Where do you wanna go?” Zuko drops the washcloth back into the bowl of now red-tinged water, starting to wrap Sokka’s torso in clean bandages.
“Somewhere quiet. Where we can just sit and don’t have to worry about running a country,” Sokka replies, Zuko’s hands gentle as they continue to wrap the bandages.
“That sounds really nice,” Zuko smiles, his cute dimples peeking out. “Is that too tight?”
“No, that’s perfect,” Sokka says as Zuko moves away, still kneeling on the ground. Sokka looks down at him, smiling softly. “Thank you.”
He feels so incredibly lucky to have such a perfect boyfriend—everything Zuko does is just so full of love. His little smiles, soft touches, every word he speaks. Sokka’s just really damn lucky and really damn happy.
Zuko stands on his knees, taking Sokka’s chin and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Sokka has to lean down a bit to reach him, but they make do, and it’s perfect.
“Of course, my love. Anything.”