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From the royal palace balcony, the world below finally seemed at peace. The thick black plumes had vanished from the sky, leaving only a warm breeze heavy with the sweet scent of blooming jasmine. Zuko rested his hands on the stone balustrade, feeling the lingering heat of the sun beneath his palms. He wore his full ceremonial robes, heavy and weighted with responsibility, yet his mind was far away. He wasn’t thinking about trade agreements or the reconstruction of nations. He was thinking about a boy with dark skin and bright blue eyes.
The memory was so vivid it almost hurt. They were in the middle of a furious argument, voices clashing over the dying embers of a makeshift camp. Sokka gestured wildly, frustration etched across his face, his eyes blazing with a rage that Zuko knew was only a mask for how bone deep tired they both were from the war. Sparks danced unbidden across Zuko’s knuckles, an involuntary echo of his own anger.
“Why do you always have to make everything so damn difficult?” Sokka shouted, stepping right up to him. “You’re not alone in this anymore, Zuko! Stop acting like you’re the only one who can carry the weight of the world on your shoulders!”
Zuko growled, heat flaring in his chest. “You don’t understand, Sokka! You have no idea what it means to have to make up for every single mistake my bloodline ever made. I’m the monster in this story, remember?” Sokka didn’t back down. Instead, he stopped just a breath away from Zuko’s face, so close that Zuko could feel the warrior’s body heat cutting through the chill of the night. The air between them felt thick, solid, heavy with everything they had never dared to say during those long months on the road.
“You’re not alone,” Sokka whispered. The silence that followed was deafening. Zuko felt his breath catch in his throat. For a split second, Sokka’s eyes flicked down to his lips barely noticeable, but to Zuko it felt like an invitation. In that moment, the anger hadn’t disappeared; it had simply transformed into something else, something far more dangerous. Zuko never got the chance to answer. Sokka closed the last inch between them, crashing their mouths together in a desperate, bruising kiss. There was no grace in it, only raw need, the frantic urge to hold onto something alive.
Zuko’s eyes flew open, but he kissed back immediately. His hands found Sokka’s hips, gripping tight even through the layers of clothing. Sokka was so warm. Sokka parted his lips, tilting his head as he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into Zuko’s mouth. Their tongues tangled, messy and slick with saliva. Sokka gasped when Zuko sucked eagerly on his tongue. Sokka’s hands rested on the front of Zuko’s red tunic at first, then moved hesitant but drawn slowly upward until his fingers brushed the rough skin of the scar on Zuko’s face. Zuko jerked back as if burned by lightning. Sokka’s eyes widened, his hand still hovering in mid air.
“Sorry,” Sokka whispered. Their foreheads were still touching. Zuko closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again.
“Not here. Not now,” Zuko breathed. They both knew it: in a world still shaped by war, there was no room for the fragility of something so new. They couldn’t afford to fall in love while they were still trying not to die.
Zuko opened his eyes, still shaken by the memory that felt like it was burning against his skin. The scar no longer hurt physically, but the hollow ache left by that interrupted kiss had stayed with him, a silence that had followed him through all the long months of reconstruction. He touched the left side of his face, right where Sokka’s fingers had stopped. Today he was the Fire Lord. Today there were no more battles to win except the one against his own ghosts. In three days, Sokka would dock at the harbor. And this time, Zuko thought, maybe he wouldn’t run.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Zuko had spent the whole morning trying to ignore the knot in his stomach, burying himself in unnecessarily long meetings and signing documents without really reading them. Today Sokka was arriving. He felt ridiculously nervous almost stupid. It was just Sokka, one of his best friends… right. Friend. That word sat like a stone in his gut. He knew that in the years they’d been apart, Sokka had been with countless men and women, yet some stubborn part of him still hoped that somewhere, somehow, a little piece of what they’d shared had remained. He was overthinking it. His head had started to throb with a dull ache behind his left eye the all too familiar warning. He was pushing himself too hard with all these thoughts and scrolls.
A guard knocked and announced that Sokka had arrived at the palace. Every attempt at staying calm shattered instantly. Zuko stayed frozen, eyes fixed on the table, while the guard added that Sokka was waiting in the inner courtyard. Zuko thanked him and took a moment to steady himself. Gods, he felt like a teenager, not the Fire Lord. Toph would’ve called him pathetic. The thought made him smile faintly.
He rose and went to meet Sokka.
Sokka stood with his back turned, wearing his usual sleeveless blue tunic. His dark skin glowed in the sunlight. His hair had grown longer, but he still wore it in that familiar style.
“Hey, Sokka,” Zuko murmured. Sokka spun around immediately, eyes lighting up. He rushed forward and pulled Zuko into a crushing hug. Zuko hugged him back, hands settling on Sokka’s hips, face pressing into the warm curve of his neck. He breathed in deep salt, sea, and that unmistakable scent that was purely Sokka. A second later he stiffened, hoping Sokka hadn’t noticed. They pulled apart.
“Buddy, you look good,” Sokka said with a grin.
“So do you. It’s… really good to have you here again,” Zuko replied, smiling.
“Come on, I’ll walk you to your room. You must be tired,” Zuko said.
They walked side by side through the palace corridors. Their hands brushed every few steps fleetingly, almost accidental but each one sent sparks through Zuko’s stomach. Sokka was talking about his latest journey, gesturing animatedly, voice loud and full of enthusiasm. Zuko wasn’t really listening. He was too busy staring. The way Sokka smiled. The sound of his voice…
“Zuko?” No response. “Zuko?” He blinked. “Huh…?” Sokka looked at him with one eyebrow raised. “You okay?”
Zuko glanced away. “Yeah, sorry. It’s been a long day.”
They finally stopped in front of Sokka’s room. “Here’s your room. If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know,” Zuko said quietly.
Sokka flashed him a bright smile and stepped inside, glancing around curiously. “Wow. This is perfect!”
Zuko lingered in the doorway, watching him with a soft smile. Oh no… he was really becoming pathetic. He mentally slapped himself. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” he asked. He genuinely wanted more time with Sokka before duty pulled him away again.
Sokka turned back. “Yeah, I’d love that. Just make sure it’s good food and even better wine,” he replied with a grin.
“Of course. I remember your appetite,” Zuko said, smiling. Their eyes met blue against gold. For a split second, Sokka’s gaze dropped to his lips. Zuko felt heat crawl up the back of his neck. He needed to leave. “I’ll let you rest. A guard will come get you later.”
Sokka flushed and quickly turned away. “Sure. See you later.”
Zuko stepped out quickly. As he closed the door, he let out a long, shaky breath. This was not going well.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Zuko had arranged everything for the evening: plenty of food and a generous amount of wine. Maybe the wine would ease the tension he’d been carrying since morning. He’d been waiting for this night with Sokka for months. He heard the door open and turned too quickly. Sokka stood there, hair still damp, skin flushed from the bath. He looked more beautiful than ever. For a second, Zuko forgot how to breathe.
“Damn, the hot water here is incredible. I almost fell asleep,” Sokka said with a grin.
“We… also have hot springs,” Zuko replied, a bit too stiffly. “They’re very relaxing.”
“Well, you could take me sometime,” Sokka said, locking eyes with him. There was a playful, provocative spark in his gaze.
The silence stretched a beat too long.
“Yeah… why not,” Zuko muttered, sitting down. “But first, let’s eat.” He offered a half smile.
“Oh hell yes, I’m starving,” Sokka exclaimed, dropping into his seat.
He immediately started piling food onto his plate, tasting almost everything.
“Okay, this is definitely better than what I usually eat,” he said with his mouth half full.
Zuko watched him for a few seconds, then reached for the wine bottle.
“It’s… nothing special,” he murmured, pouring Sokka another glass.
Sokka looked up with a crooked smile. “If this is nothing special, I should just move in. The wine’s great too.” He took a long sip. “Way better than what we drink back home.”
Zuko met his gaze, unimpressed “Not exactly a high bar.”
Sokka chuckled, bringing the glass back to his lips.
Zuko watched Sokka finish his third glass with alarming ease. Sokka swirled the wine, studying his reflection. “You know what I was thinking about?” he said, voice lower now. “That time we tried to hunt that weird elk-deer thing. Remember?”
Zuko raised an eyebrow, a half smile fighting its way onto his lips. “I remember it ending with us eating sour berries because someone underestimated how fast the prey was.”
“Hey! I had a perfect plan!” Sokka protested, waving his hands dramatically. “But then Katara got in the way. Toph was laughing so hard she shook the ground and ruined all my traps. And Aang… well, Aang tried to ride the damn thing.” Sokka smiled at the memory. “We were a total disaster.”
Zuko let out a short, genuine laugh the kind that shook his shoulders. “I was convinced we’d all starve within a week if I had to rely on you guys.”
“And yet,” Sokka added, his tone growing more serious even as his eyes sparkled, “eating that handful of berries around the fire felt like the best meal of my life.” There was real nostalgia in his voice.
“But now we’re here, eating actual good food,” Sokka said with a light laugh. He didn’t look away. This time the silence between them wasn’t awkward, it felt light, almost tender.
Zuko lowered his gaze to his glass, slowly swirling the wine and watching it catch the flickering lantern light. He could still feel Sokka’s eyes on him.
“You’re drinking a bit too much,” Zuko murmured.
“Mmmh.” Sokka tilted his head. “Maybe.” But he didn’t stop looking. Zuko finally lifted his eyes and found Sokka’s already waiting for him. His stomach tightened.
“What?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.
Sokka hesitated for a moment, then slid his glass across the table. “Nothing.” The word didn’t sound convincing. He paused, then added more quietly, “I was just… thinking about how much you’ve changed.”
Zuko’s shoulders tensed slightly. “I guess that’s inevitable.”
“Not like that.” Sokka shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I mean, yeah, you’re more… serious now, I suppose.” His gaze dropped briefly to the edge of the table before returning to Zuko. “But some things are still exactly the same.”
Zuko didn’t answer right away. His heart was beating a little too hard for this kind of conversation.
“Like what?” he asked finally.
Sokka took a deep breath, as if choosing his words carefully. Then he leaned forward. “The way you look at me.”
Zuko stopped breathing for a second. His fingers tightened around the glass. “I don’t…” he started, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sokka raised an eyebrow, that familiar confident smirk appearing, softened by something warmer underneath. “Really?” He leaned in a little more, just enough to close some of the distance between them.
Zuko didn’t move. He couldn’t move. That heat on his skin was back, stronger than before.
“You’ve always been terrible at hiding it,” Sokka continued, his voice quieter now.
Zuko’s breathing grew uneven. “Hiding what?” he whispered, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.
Sokka held his gaze for another second that felt far too long. His hand came to rest on the table, close to Zuko’s. Their fingers brushed.
A jolt shot up Zuko’s arm and straight into his stomach. He swallowed hard. “If you keep drinking like that…” he said, desperately grasping for something normal, “you’re going to regret it.”
Sokka smiled slowly, never breaking eye contact. “Who said I’d regret it?”
The silence that followed was thick with tension. Zuko inhaled slowly, trying to regain control.
But when Sokka’s fingers shifted and actually laced with his, something inside Zuko snapped.
He stood up abruptly. “I need some air,” he blurted, maybe a little too fast.
He took a few steps toward the balcony, feeling Sokka’s gaze burning into his back the whole way. He pushed the doors open and stepped outside. The night air hit his face, but it wasn’t nearly enough to extinguish the fire raging inside him. He gripped the railing with both hands, leaning forward. Inhale. Exhale. Nothing. His heart wouldn’t slow down. “Fantastic,” he exhaled, more frustrated than sarcastic, closing his eyes.
Behind him, the doors opened again. He didn’t turn right away.
“Am I really that unbearable already?” Sokka’s voice came light and teasing.
Zuko squeezed his eyes shut for a second longer. “No,” he answered, too quickly. Then, quieter: “It’s not that.”
He heard footsteps approaching. Sokka stopped beside him at the railing. “Then what is it?” he asked. The Fire Nation capital stretched out before them, glowing in the night. Sokka didn’t look at him immediately. “It’s… hot,” Zuko finally breathed.
Sokka let out a soft laugh. “Oh, the Fire Lord is hot, huh?”
“You’re not helping,” Zuko muttered, but there was no real irritation in his voice.
“You didn’t leave because you’re heat,” Sokka whispered. Zuko tensed. Sokka continued, “You ran.”
The words hit harder than Zuko wanted to admit. He clenched his jaw. “I’m not running.” It didn’t sound convincing.
“Okay,” Sokka said softly. “Then tell me what you’re doing.”
Zuko finally turned to look at him. “I’m not doing anything,” he murmured, but his voice came out lower than intended.
Sokka tilted his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. “That’s the problem,” he replied simply.
Silence settled between them. Below, the city kept living on, completely unaware. Zuko tightened his grip on the railing. Sokka moved closer, slowly, until there was almost no space left between them. Then he raised a hand, brushing the inside of Zuko’s wrist. The touch traveled upward, tracing along his arm until it reached his face. Sokka’s palm came to rest gently against Zuko’s scarred cheek lightly, warm, almost reverent. Zuko’s eyes snapped shut, as if the contact had stolen the air from his lungs.
“Sokka…” he whispered, half a warning.
Sokka leaned in even closer. Zuko opened his eyes and met his gaze. There was nothing left to say. Holding back had become unbearable. He crashed his mouth against Sokka’s, pulling him in hard. His hands slid immediately to Sokka’s hips, gripping tighter than necessary. Sokka’s lips tasted like wine, warm, alive and Zuko clung to him like he was the only real thing in the world.
Sokka parted his lips and Zuko didn’t hesitate, deepening the kiss with raw hunger. His fingers dug into Sokka’s hips, yanking him flush against his body until there wasn’t a single inch of space between them. Their tongues tangled in a messy, desperate dance. Zuko pulled back for just a heartbeat, breathing ragged, then immediately dipped lower, kissing along Sokka’s jaw and down to his neck, pressing hot, urgent kisses against his skin like he couldn’t stop himself.
“Zuko…” Sokka moaned, the sound low and wrecked.
Zuko froze, suddenly realizing what he was doing. “Sorry…” he whispered.
Sokka smiled, soft and breathless. “You don’t have to apologize.” He took a deep breath and rested his forehead against Zuko’s. “You can do whatever you want.”
Then he leaned in toward Zuko’s ear and whispered, “Take me to your room.” The words came out steady, without a trace of hesitation.
Zuko pulled back just enough to search his face. He found none.
Sokka didn’t look away from him for even a second. Zuko drew in a slow breath, his gaze dropping briefly to Sokka’s lips before returning to those bright blue eyes, as if searching for something solid to hold onto. His grip on Sokka’s hips loosened slightly, only to slide lower and intertwine their fingers. Then he moved.
Sokka followed without hesitation.
The palace corridors were silent, broken only by the sound of their footsteps and their increasingly ragged breathing. They couldn’t stay apart hands kept seeking each other, stolen kisses between steps, short and urgent, as if even a few seconds of distance was already too much. They finally reached the door to Zuko’s chambers.
Zuko hesitated for only a heartbeat as he opened it, just long enough for the full weight of what was about to happen to hit him. Then they stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind them with a final, decisive sound that echoed through the room like a point of no return. They moved toward the bed almost without thinking, pulled by something inevitable, hands already hungry for each other. Sokka was the first to pause. He pulled back just enough to place his hands on Zuko’s chest. His fingers trembled slightly as he began undoing the buttons of Zuko’s ceremonial robe, one by one, with deliberate slowness like he wanted to take his time, to really look at him, to memorize every inch of skin revealed.
“You’re wearing way too much,” Sokka murmured, a mischievous little smile tugging at his lips even as his voice had already gone rough. Zuko didn’t answer. He stayed perfectly still, breathing uneven, golden eyes burning into Sokka. When the last layer slipped off, the cool air of the room hit his overheated skin, making him shiver.
Sokka stared at him for a long moment. Then his fingers settled on Zuko’s bare chest, sliding slowly downward until they stopped over the scar that marked his stomach. Zuko nearly forgot how to breathe. The touch was so gentle, so reverent, it made his chest tighten.
“Zuko… are you okay?” Sokka asked, suddenly more careful, concern threading through his voice. “You’re really warm.”
“I… yeah, I’m fine,” Zuko swallowed hard, trying to cling to some shred of control. “I think it’s… my bending. I don’t even know what’s happening to me,” his voice came out low, almost uncertain.
Sokka watched him for a second, then a tender, amused smile curved his lips. “So you’re losing control because you’re turned on?”
Zuko shot him a sharp glare, but his cheeks flushed with a redness that had nothing to do with his fire. “You’re not funny,” he muttered.
“Oh, I’m very funny,” Sokka replied, tilting his head with a playful grin, eyes never leaving Zuko’s. “This is hilarious.”
Zuko clenched his jaw, trying to regain some control, but Sokka lifted a hand to his face and pulled him back in, kissing him deep and slow a kiss that stole every thought from his head. Zuko kissed back with urgent need, fingers already tugging Sokka’s tunic off. He undressed him slowly, savoring every new inch of dark skin revealed, like he couldn’t stop touching him. It wasn’t just desire. It was need something that had been tightening in his chest for years. When the last layer finally fell away, Zuko paused for a moment just to look at him, breathing ragged. His golden eyes traced slowly down Sokka’s body, lingering far longer than they should on the defined lines of muscle, the curve of his hips, and the hard, flushed length of his cock resting against his stomach.
Sokka took his hand, pulling him out of his thoughts, and guided him toward the bed without ever letting go. He lay back and drew Zuko on top of him with easy confidence, like that was exactly where Zuko belonged. Zuko hovered over him for a second, breathing uneven, eyes locked on those bright blue ones. There was something different in them something that made his stomach tighten.
“Sokka…” he murmured, voice lower and rougher than usual, almost uncertain.
But Sokka didn’t answer with words. He lifted a hand to Zuko’s face, brushing the scar with a tenderness that stole Zuko’s breath. Zuko closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the touch like he was searching for an anchor. Then he looked at Sokka again and couldn’t hold back any longer. He leaned down and kissed him harder, deeper, with desperate urgency. Their tongues tangled, hot and wet, while Zuko’s hands roamed over Sokka’s body, gripping and pulling him closer like it still wasn’t enough. He broke the kiss only to trail down Sokka’s jaw and neck, leaving wet kisses and light bites that drew soft moans from Sokka’s throat. His lips lingered on the sensitive spot just below his ear, sucking hard enough to leave a red mark. One hand gripped Sokka’s hip, the other threading through his dark hair, holding him in place.
Sokka arched up against him, panting. “Zuko…”
Zuko continued his descent, kissing and licking every inch of skin until he reached Sokka’s chest. He sucked one nipple hard, pinching the other between his fingers, drawing louder and louder moans from Sokka. Then he moved even lower, trailing kisses down the lines of his abs and the sharp V of his hips, until he reached his hard, leaking cock. He gave it a few slow strokes with his hand, then kissed the tip, licking away the salty bead of precum. Sokka jerked, fingers tightening in Zuko’s hair.
Zuko looked up, golden eyes dark with lust, and without breaking eye contact, he hooked Sokka’s legs over his shoulders, folding him in half. Then he buried his face between Sokka’s cheeks without warning. The first lick was long, slow, almost reverent his flat tongue dragging from perineum all the way up to the tight ring of muscle, hot and wet, leaving a shiny trail of saliva. Sokka’s eyes flew open and a choked moan died in his throat.
“Fuck… Zuko…”
Zuko didn’t answer. He spread Sokka’s cheeks with both hands, exposing him completely, and licked again broad, firm strokes, over and over, getting him thoroughly wet. Then he circled the tight ring with the tip of his tongue in slow, teasing, torturous swirls barely touching, pulling back, then pressing harder. Every few seconds he pushed the tip of his tongue inside, just barely, before pulling out to suck gently at the rim, like he wanted to taste every part of him.
Sokka tasted salty, warm, faintly musky. Zuko groaned against his skin, the sound vibrating straight into him. His fire was already slipping out of control; thin curls of white steam escaped his mouth with every exhale, heating Sokka’s wet skin even more.
Sokka writhed beneath him, hips bucking desperately against Zuko’s face. “Zuko… shit… your tongue is so fucking hot…” he panted, voice growing more broken with every word. His fingers were clenched tight in Zuko’s black hair, pulling him closer, almost frantic.
Zuko lost every last shred of restraint. He pushed his tongue deeper, fucking him with it slow, thorough strokes along his inner walls, like he wanted to devour him from the inside out.
He sucked, licked, and gently nibbled the sensitive ring of muscle, alternating it all with the tip of his tongue pushing in and out. The steam was thicker now, wrapping Sokka’s thighs in a hot, humid haze.
Sokka was shaking violently, thighs clamped tight around Zuko’s head, back arched high off the bed.
“Don’t stop… please don’t stop… fuck, Zuko, you’re… you’re incredible…” His moans had turned into broken, shameless sobs. Every deeper lick pulled a new, more desperate sound from his throat.
Zuko’s own cock throbbed painfully against the sheets, but he didn’t touch himself. He wanted only this: to feel Sokka completely lose his mind for him, trembling and begging under his tongue. The heat inside him kept rising, uncontrollable. Small sparks of steam escaped his nose with every ragged breath against Sokka’s slick skin. He kept going for what felt like endless minutes tongue thrusting in and out, lips sucking, licking all around and inside him. Sokka was a wreck: sweat drenched, flushed dark, eyes glassy, mouth open in a constant moan.
“Zuko… I’m… I’m gonna… fuck, slow down or I’m coming right now…” he panted at last, voice utterly wrecked.
Only then did Zuko pull back. His lips were shiny with spit, chin wet, golden eyes wild. Steam still curled from his mouth as he caught his breath. He reached over to the nightstand, grabbed the oil, and poured a generous amount over his fingers. Then he moved back over Sokka, kissing him deep and filthy, both of them gasping when their cocks slid hot and heavy against each other again. A finger slid in slowly, carefully, pushing into that tight, saliva slick heat. Zuko moved it gently, exploring, letting Sokka adjust while his other hand stroked the inside of his thigh. Then he added a second finger, stretching him with slow, deep movements, curling them until he found that spot.
When he hit it, Sokka jolted hard on the bed, a long, broken moan tearing from his throat.
“There… right there, fuck, Zuko…”
Zuko smiled against his neck and started massaging that spot with cruel precision: slow pressure, then faster, then slow again, adding a third finger while Sokka writhed beneath him, pushing back against his hand and begging shamelessly.
“You’re so tight… so hot…” Zuko rasped, his breath scorching against Sokka’s skin. Steam kept rising from his fingers with every movement.
Sokka’s eyes were glassy, mouth open, chest heaving. “Zuko… please… I can’t take it anymore… I need you inside me…”
Zuko withdrew his fingers with clear reluctance. Sokka whimpered at the sudden emptiness, sounding lost and desperate. Zuko poured more oil over his painfully hard cock, then looked into Sokka’s eyes one last time, searching for final confirmation.
“Are you sure?”
“Never been more sure in my life,” Sokka answered with a shaky but determined smile.
Zuko positioned himself above him and guided his cock to Sokka’s prepared entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, savoring every expression that crossed Sokka’s face the parted lips, the squeezed shut eyes, the way his breath caught. Sokka exhaled shakily, legs trembling as that thick heat filled him completely, stretching him open.
“Zuko… so… so full…” he gasped.
Zuko’s last thread of control snapped. His pace turned urgent, deep, almost feral. Every thrust was accompanied by the wet slap of skin on skin, Sokka’s broken moans, and his own scorching breath. The heat inside him surged uncontrollably. His skin grew burning hot, and the sweat coating their bodies began turning into thick curls of white steam that filled the room with warm, humid mist.
Sokka’s eyes widened, dazed and awed. “Zuko… you’re literally steaming… fuck.”
Zuko buried his face in the crook of Sokka’s neck, letting his fire wrap around them both. The rhythm became frantic a raw dance of flesh, sweat, and steam. Their bodies moved together, slick and burning. Zuko could only feel Sokka’s wild heartbeat against his chest, the velvet tight way he clenched around him, and his name falling from Sokka’s lips like a prayer.
“Sokka… Sokka…” Zuko growled against his skin, voice wrecked.
Sokka gripped his shoulders, nails digging in deep. “Come… inside me…”
With one final, desperate thrust, Zuko went rigid. Heat flared violently a thick cloud of steam burst from where their bodies met, wrapping them both in a golden, sweltering haze. Sokka arched off the bed with a choked cry, coming hard between their stomachs in violent pulses as Zuko followed right after, shaking uncontrollably and spilling deep inside him with a low, guttural moan.
They stayed locked together for long moments, breathing ragged, the steam slowly thinning and leaving tiny beads of condensation on the sheets and their flushed skin. Their bodies were still joined, hot and trembling.
Zuko collapsed beside him, chest still heaving with heavy breaths. Thin curls of steam continued rising slowly from his skin, wrapping their bodies in a warm, thick mist that smelled of sex, sweat, and fire. For a few long moments, neither of them spoke only the sound of ragged breathing and frantic heartbeats filled the room.
Sokka’s eyes were half-lidded, lips swollen and red, body glistening with sweat and come. With a low groan, he reached up and threaded his fingers through Zuko’s damp hair, pulling him closer.
“Fuck…” he rasped, voice completely wrecked, “you’re still so hot inside me.”
Zuko shivered at the words. Instead of pulling out, he lazily rolled his hips forward in a slow, deep thrust, savoring the way Sokka clenched tight around him hot, slick, and oversensitive.
Sokka gasped, back arching. “Zuko…”
“Shh.” Zuko nipped at his neck, gently sucking on the already marked skin while his hand slid down Sokka’s thigh, stroking the slick flesh. “I don’t want to pull out yet.”
He stayed buried deep inside him, steam condensing into tiny droplets that rolled down their tangled bodies. His lips brushed every inch of skin he could reach: collarbone, throat, the sensitive spot beneath Sokka’s ear that made him shiver the most.
After what felt like an eternity, Zuko slowly pulled out with a low groan as Sokka’s tight heat released him. Warm seed trickled out, staining the sheets and Sokka’s thigh. Zuko’s gaze darkened at the sight.
Sokka let out a hoarse chuckle that quickly melted into a sigh when Zuko lowered his head and dragged his tongue over his skin, deliberately licking up every drop of his own release.
“You’re filthy…” Sokka murmured, voice rough with pleasure, but he didn’t stop him. Instead, he slid his fingers into Zuko’s hair and held him there.
When Zuko finally moved back up, he kissed him deeply messy and possessive sharing the taste of both of them. Sokka moaned into his mouth, hands roaming over the Fire Lord’s burning back.
Only then did Zuko pull back just enough to speak against his lips.
“This wasn’t… just sex,” he whispered, voice low and rough. “Not for me.”
Sokka looked into his eyes, pupils still blown wide. “Not for me either.”
He sat up slowly, muscles still trembling, and leaned over the edge of the bed. He rummaged through his discarded clothes and pulled out a small leather pouch. When he turned back, he was holding a necklace: a dark leather cord with a hand carved pendant bearing the symbol of the Southern Water Tribe. He held it out to Zuko, suddenly a little nervous, cheeks still flushed.
“I actually wanted to give it to you at dinner,” he said with a small smile. “I made this for you. In my tribe… it means I’m promising myself to you. You’re mine.” He swallowed. “I know you can’t really wear it, but…”
“Sokka…” Zuko breathed, surprised.
“You don’t have to accept it,” Sokka muttered quickly, looking away, clearly anxious.
Zuko stared at the necklace for a moment, then his golden eyes softened. He sat up on the bed and turned, offering Sokka his back.
“Put it on me,” he murmured, his voice low and vulnerable.
Sokka knelt behind him. Zuko slowly lifted a hand and gathered his long black hair, exposing the nape of his neck and the elegant line of his still sweaty back. The gesture was simple, but incredibly intimate.
Sokka’s fingers trembled slightly as he passed the leather cord around Zuko’s neck. The cool material brushed against warm skin, and he carefully adjusted the pendant in the center. Once the knot was secure, he lingered for a second with his hands resting on Zuko’s shoulders, breathing softly against the back of his neck.
Zuko let his hair fall again, then slowly turned to face him. Their faces were inches apart. For a long moment they simply looked at each other gold meeting blue in heavy silence.
Zuko pulled back just enough to meet Sokka’s eyes, a silent promise burning brighter than any flame. “I’ll wear it under my ceremonial robes,” he whispered, voice still hoarse.
“So even when I’m sitting on the throne in front of the entire nation… I’ll know a part of you is always with me.”
Sokka smiled, pressing their foreheads together as Zuko’s warmth wrapped around them both once more gentle and sweet, like an invisible blanket.