Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The harbor of the Fire Nation capital had changed so much that sometimes Zuko barely recognized it.

There had been a time when every ship entering these waters had been inspected like a threat, every unfamiliar face measured for weakness before it had even set foot on shore. There was more movement going out than coming in—warships sailing day and night beneath black banners, leaving with fresh orders all in service of a war that should have never been conceived in the first place. 

Back then, the entire coast had smelled of coal and fear.

Now, it smelled like citrus from the market stalls opening along the docks and the mineral scent of salt carried on the cool morning wind—almost like the sea spirits had finally begun to forgive them for their sins. Aang would probably like that thought.

It still wasn’t exactly peaceful—sailors shouted over one another, merchants from every corner of the world arriving while gulls screamed overhead. The chaos remained, but it was alive in a different way now, less like a clenched fist and more like a body learning how to breathe again. The Fire Nation was opening itself to the world once more, trying to preserve the fragile peace they had all fought for.

It was a beautiful sight. 

A shame Zuko was far too busy trying not to explode something.

He stood at the edge of the highest landing platform with his hands folded behind his back, trying and failing to look like a Fire Lord who had not been waiting there for nearly an hour.

Behind him, his guards stood at a respectful distance, pretending not to notice that their ruler kept checking the horizon every few minutes. A cluster of attendants lingered near the stairway, murmuring among themselves over scrolls. Zuko had already dismissed them twice.

He knew he was late for the morning meetings, knew he should be speaking with his ministers right this moment about the trade proposals they wanted to send to the Southern Water Tribe, but Zuko couldn’t possibly be expected to sit through even half of those proceedings if the most important representative simply wasn’t there, could he?

A gust of wind hit him, stirring the scent of the harbor even more. Zuko’s scent glands flared for a moment, the smell of burnt mandarin bursting into the air before he managed to steady himself. Stiff hands moved briskly over his clothes, brushing away the dust that had clung there, then rising to make sure his hair was still secured in a bun, his crown still perfectly in place. Anything to keep himself from thinking too much.

He exhaled through his nose and fixed his gaze on the ocean again.

The Southern Water Tribe ship should have arrived at dawn. Three hours had already passed since its scheduled arrival, and the delay made no sense. The sea was calm, the winds completely favorable and no reports of pirate activity anywhere near. No reason at all for them to be this late. 

Any minute now, their ship should pass through the outer gates and glide into the inner harbor carrying diplomats, two engineers from the Air Acolytes and the leader of the Southern Tribe.

Sokka.

Another strong breeze swept across the platform. Zuko convinced himself that was the only reason he shivered.

It had been almost eight months since he had last seen Sokka in person, though there had been letters. Too many letters, maybe. 

Most of them had been political in nature—trade routes, shipping schedules and shared coastal protection, everything revolving around how two nations once kept apart by war were now learning to stand beside one another. 

But sometimes the words bent strangely around other subjects.

Sokka liked to talk about his day. His terrible jokes always made an appearance, obviously, but now and then he would share small, random glimpses of his life—stories from home, complaints about council meetings or tales from his travels across the Earth Kingdom. Sometimes Aang would tell Zuko about their adventures too whenever he came to visit, but he always preferred hearing about them in Sokka’s own words.

There was something in those letters that always pushed the loneliness back a little, softening the sharp edges of long days and empty royal rooms. But it still wasn’t enough.

It had been way too long since they had trained side by side, too long since they last argued over useless things that somehow became life-or-death matters whenever Sokka was involved, too long since Zuko had watched him grin like an idiot after telling a joke that had never been that funny to begin with.

And Zuko missed that.

He liked being Fire Lord, liked putting his hands into something important and helping reshape a world that had been so deeply scarred by his predecessors. He liked spending time with his uncle. Really liked spending time with Aang, too—politically or otherwise—and liked watching his life slowly become less hollow. 

But there was a kind of emptiness in him that only seemed to quiet down when Sokka was there. Something letters alone could not replace.

The letters couldn’t carry the scrape of Sokka’s voice when he was tired, or the way he laughed with his whole body, shoulders shaking and head thrown back. Maybe ink could never hold the scent of ocean wind that always left Zuko feeling vaguely restless whenever he stood too close. And maybe that’s why he was feeling so irritated.

It wasn’t only the ship’s delay, or the mingled smells of the harbor, or the way his scent gland felt more sensitive than usual. Maybe it was the understanding that, however short Sokka’s stay would be, they would have no space to spend it in the way he wanted.

“Fire Lord Zuko—”

He turned sharply, meeting one of the harbor officials, who bowed low before their eyes could even meet, likely sensing the spike of spice in the air.

“The Southern Water Tribe ship has just been sighted entering the inner channel. They should be here any moment now.”

Zuko nodded once, perhaps far too quickly. “Good. Have them dock at the royal port. I’ll be waiting there.”

The official bowed once again, wisely saying nothing further before hurrying off to carry out his orders.

Zuko made his way toward the more private section of the harbor, his advisors falling into place behind him in hurried steps. He forced himself to finally give them his attention, listening as they reviewed the endless details of the coming week of conferences. He answered what was needed and approved the final drafts of the trade discussions with a calm that did not belong to him—they deserved at least that much, considering how tirelessly they had worked to prepare everything.

Still, his focus kept slipping toward the sea.

Ten minutes passed—or maybe twenty, Zuko couldn’t tell anymore. His heart nearly bursted in his chest when the horns from the watch post sounded, announcing the bright shape appearing in the distance, reflecting the seawater and the blaze of the sun.

Down below, the welcoming procession stirred into motion: attendants hurried into formation, raising long decorative blue banners, guards aligning shoulder to shoulder on their side along the dock. The musicians near the welcoming platform scrambled to readiness, one of them nearly dropping a drum in the rush before another hissed at him to focus.

Zuko began descending the stairs with measured steps, fighting the urge to simply run the rest of the way down. Keeping his scent under control was starting to drive him insane. By the time he reached the lower platform, the ship had come fully into view.

It was larger than the last Southern vessel he’d seen, built broad and sturdy for rough waters. The hull was reinforced with pale timber and metal bands gifted by the Fire Nation, blue flags coiling in the wind beside the emblem of the Southern Tribe, creating a streak of deep blue against the ocean.

And there, standing at the front of the vessel as if he personally commanded the sea itself, was Sokka.

He looked older than the last time Zuko had seen him. More muscular, too. His shoulders were broader, sun-browned skin gleaming with the salt spray of the sea. His long hair was tied back carelessly in a loose warrior’s tail, and even from a distance Zuko could make out the sharper line of his jaw. It made him look unfairly good. 

He was dressed in traveling leathers beneath a heavy blue mantle clasped with polished bone, shells adorning his neck and ears. One hand was braced on the railing, making the muscles of his arm flex as he turned and shouted something to the crew behind him. Probably the wrong instructions.

As the ship eased alongside the dock, the Fire Nation harbor workers rushed forward, catching the thrown ropes and securing them around the mooring posts. Sailors from both nations moved together along the planks, calling instructions back and forth over the music that had begun to rise across the pier.

Zuko barely noticed any of it.

Sokka spotted him the moment he stepped onto the lowered gangplank, his whole face changing. One second he was barking orders, the next, a grin split across his face and lit the harbor brighter than sunlight striking water.

The scent reached Zuko before Sokka did—blue sage and cold sea air, strong and unmistakably Sokka. The smell crashed into him so suddenly that every muscle in Zuko’s body tensed, instincts wanting to answer with his own scent in a silent dominance challenge. Instead, he locked his jaw hard enough for it to ache, forcing himself to keep his breathing even.

“Well,” Sokka called as he strode down the gangplank before anyone could formally announce him, a boyish, teasing smile Zuko had seen far too many times spreading across his face. “If it isn’t the Fire Lord himself. You know, I thought you’d send your servants to greet me— this is waaaay too fancy.”

One of Zuko’s advisors stiffened beside him—the very same one who had suggested the night before that he could handle the arrival in his place. Zuko felt a smile pull slowly at his mouth, the tightness in his muscles easing for the first time all day. He stepped forward, fully aware of Sokka’s eyes resting on his mouth.

“Most people require less supervision,” Zuko replied smoothly. “Since it’s you we are talking about, I decided to come myself.”

Sokka came to a stop in front of him, eyeing him up and down. This time it was the Water Tribe attendants nearest the gangplank who stiffened, exchanging quick glances at the strange tension hanging between their Chief and the Fire Lord.

A minute passed. Then two. An abrupt laugh escaped Sokka’s mouth, the sound warm and loud and painfully familiar, like Zuko had told the best joke in the world. It broke the spell instantly, making shoulders loosen, a few of the Fire Nation officials exhaling in visible relief.

Then, without warning, Sokka caught Zuko’s offered hand in greeting and yanked him forward into a hug.

A warm chest and solid arms circled around him, stealing all the breath from his lungs. The rough edge of travel-worn fabric brushed against the silk of Zuko’s robes, the sudden closeness sending an involuntary shiver down his spine.

For one startled second, Zuko froze. 

It’s been months since someone touched me like this. Do I— do I hug him back? Am I keeping my scent under control? Can he tell how much this is affecting me? Shit, am I breathing too loudly? What do I—

Then longing spoke louder than anything else.

He wrapped his arms around Sokka, feeling the breadth of his back beneath his palms, his fingers tightening around the fabric of his clothes. The harbor, the two nations, the ceremony—everything fell quiet around them. He melted into Sokka's embrace, feeling his warm body relax against his own in return.

Around them, the movement of the docks rushed back into focus, their attendants pretending very hard not to stare. They pulled apart when they remembered they were not the only people standing there, their movements a little clumsy. Zuko straightened his posture, adjusting the sleeves of his robes as if nothing strange had happened. Sokka took a few steps back, gaze heavy but smile still playful. 

Up close, Zuko could breathe even more of the blue sage resting beneath Sokka’s scent, but there was something else there too—something beyond the familiar smell of an adult alpha Zuko had grown used to. Sokka smelled… spicier than usual. The scent was so thick it seemed to settle at the back of Zuko’s tongue, his fangs threatening to lower instinctually. 

A gust of wind swept down, carrying the sting of salt, and Zuko drew in a slow breath that did nothing to steady him. He was aware his own scent had loosened into the air more than it should have, edged with more smoke than propriety allowed, but Sokka’s posture never changed. If anything, his grin softened.

Those icy blue eyes flicked over Zuko’s frame, gaze dragging down the length of him slowly. It was the same assessing look Zuko himself had been trying not to indulge in, cataloguing all the small changes that had transformed Sokka into the man he was now—the new scar along the side of his jaw, the new beads woven into his hair that clicked softly together in the sea breeze.

They were still standing far too close for alphas greeting one another in public, close enough that one shift forward would have brought them chest to chest again. Zuko could not bring himself to step away, and neither could Sokka, apparently.

“It’s been a long time.” Sokka said quietly, maybe a little too softly for Zuko’s heart to withstand, the noise of the harbor and travelers crossing past one another muffled beneath whatever strange spell he seemed trapped inside. 

Every prepared greeting he had rehearsed in the last few days dissolved from his mind. Zuko’s throat went dry as he swallowed down his nerves, forcing himself to keep his gaze fixed on Sokka’s eyes. 

“...You’re late.” He said, cringing at the harshness of his own tone.

Sokka snorted in that same easygoing way Zuko had once envied when he was younger, rolling his eyes. He swung an arm around Zuko’s shoulders, pulling him close as if eight months of distance were nothing at all, and began steering him deeper into the harbor, the welcoming party moving around them.

“It’s nice to see you too, Your Hotness,” Sokka said brightly, waving to the musicians. Some of the omegas let out dreamy sighs as they watched him. Zuko fought to keep his expression neutral. “You look even more handsome than I remembered, if I can say.”

Sokka paused to greet one of the Fire Nation ministers, his posture shifting with the effortless swiftness only a born leader could manage. Zuko took the moment to steady the strange trembling in his limbs, turning sharply toward his chamberlain that was quietly following them.

“Escort the Southern delegates to their quarters,” he ordered, voice stiff to his own ears. “The engineers from the Air Acolytes as well. I want them to be perfectly comfortable, and make sure their cargo is handled carefully.”

The chamberlain bowed at once with a small smile and hurried off. By the time Sokka fell back into step beside him, Zuko had almost regained control of himself. Almost.

So he punched Sokka in the arm with a little more force than necessary, earning a confused noise from his friend.

“Don’t call me that,” Zuko said, glaring at him through the corner of his eye as heat crept up the back of his neck. “I’ve told you that a thousand times already.”

Sokka immediately grabbed the spot like he’d been mortally wounded, pouting at him. “Jeez, is this how the Fire Lord treats an old friend?”

Zuko adjusted his bangs out of his vision and turned in the direction of the city. “I see you still have the terrible habit of being dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” Sokka shrieked, scrambling to catch up. “I’m being abused here. Your uncle is right— you still need to keep working on that temper of yours.”

It was absurdly easy to fall back into rhythm with him, words snapping between them with familiar ease as they made their way toward the capital streets. Crowds parted at their approach, merchants trying to catch the travelers' attention, civilians stepping aside and smiling, curious eyes following them wherever they went.

Neither of them seemed to notice much of it.

Their shoulders kept brushing as they walked, each contact sending a brief spark through Zuko’s body that he pretended not to feel. Their scents mingled together like always, quietly pressing, testing, circling for dominance.

Ahead of them waited a week of negotiations and endless political obligations. Zuko knew that this was all this visit was meant to be, so he allowed himself to enjoy this small moment where he could pretend he was only the Fire Nation boy spending time with his Water Tribe friend. Maybe that would be enough.

At his side, Sokka kept talking animatedly about how one of his crewmen had nearly fallen overboard trying to catch a crab-fish three days ago. He told the story with his whole body—hands moving wildly, voice sparkling with that familiar energy Zuko knew so well, only sounding older now, deeper.

Zuko couldn’t suppress the small smile that tugged at his mouth, the palace drawing nearer with every stride. 

He listened to every word.

· ─ · ☾𖤓 · ─ ·

Days passed in a blur of conference halls and voices that never seemed to stop talking.

For an entire week, Zuko and Sokka had been in and out of council chambers from sunrise until late afternoon, seated across from ministers and advisors while the future of their nations was drafted line by line. New trade routes through the eastern sea lanes had been opened, agreements of commerce had been signed and an entire educational exchange program between the two nations had been approved.

In their first meetings—the ones held shortly after the war ended—there had been disagreements, of course. A few threats here and there, sure. It had been especially difficult around the time the Red Lotus assassins were trying to infiltrate the palace. Zuko would probably be dead by now if it hadn't been for Suki. But now, years later, Fire Nation ministers and Water Tribe delegates laughed together across meeting tables, maps being drawn with alliance rather than conquest in mind. 

Which only made Zuko’s growing unease feel all the more ridiculous.

Because while everything surrounding his duties as Fire Lord had unfolded smoothly, he himself had only grown more anxious with each passing day. And perhaps that had something to do with the fact that Sokka’s scent had become much stronger as the week wore on.

The meeting rooms smelled deeply of mint, saltier with every passing afternoon. It lingered in hallways long after Sokka had left them, clinging to council chambers, guest corridors—even the training yards he had crossed only briefly. Sometimes it drifted into his royal chamber on the evening breeze, ruining any chance of him getting sleep.

Zuko knew he could put an end to all of it by releasing his own scent, by asserting his dominance the way any proper alpha should—fuck, the way any leader should—but over the past few days he had discovered that he did not truly want to do that.

And okay, sure. That was fine. He promised to himself he would be a calm ruler, so of course he wanted to avoid unnecessary fights. All he had to do was simply keep a healthy distance from Sokka for the time being; cordial conversations and easy smiles would certainly be more than enough.

…

But he had waited so long for this, so long for finally being in his presence again. And it wasn’t as if he had the strongest willpower in the world, so finding himself drifting back less than five minutes after deciding to stay away didn’t exactly come as a surprise. 

It was pathetic. It went against everything his inner alpha clawed at him to do. But still, a deep, shameful satisfaction bloomed through him every time he caught a passing whiff of his friend’s scent.

And Sokka kept looking at him.

Which, yeah. Of course he was going to look at him from time to time—he was the fucking Fire Lord, for spirit’s sake—but Sokka was looking far too much. He kept casting stolen glances in the middle of negotiations, his eyes finding Zuko no matter where he stood in the room. More than once, he had caught Sokka staring openly at his scent gland before jerking his gaze away with a cough or some badly timed joke.

By the seventh day, Zuko felt like his veins might turn into liquid fire and burst at any moment.

The meeting had ended surprisingly early, shortly after the sun reached its highest point in the sky. The final signatures had been pressed into wax and the last handshake exchanged, signaling yet another successful conference between the two nations. 

Zuko wanted to feel happy about it, he really did, but his mind kept circling back to Sokka, who seemed to be avoiding him ever since the day began, choosing to sit on the other side of the table instead of beside him like he normally would. It left Zuko with the sinking feeling that the distance between them had already begun to grow before Sokka had even returned to his home, making the great fire pit at the back of the room flicker in a slow rhythm.

Outside, the capital was preparing for the farewell celebration planned for that night, crimson and blue lanterns being strung across the main avenues, long banners embroidered with dancing dragons and rising moons hanging from balconies and archways. Vendors rolled their carts into the plazas, filling the air with the smell of roasted duck and sesame cakes, the savoury scent drifting inside the royal hall where diplomats filtered out, voices warm with relief.

By tomorrow morning, the Water Tribe delegates would be boarding their ship, setting course for the long journey back home. Just the thought of it was enough to leave a bitter taste at the back of Zuko’s throat.

He escaped to the tea stand set at the corner of the chamber before anyone could trap him in further conversation, his shoulders stiff. He poured himself a cup of jasmine-fire blossom, lifting it to his mouth and forcing himself to breathe through the rising steam. Saltwater drifted into his senses before the familiar footsteps did.

“Another successful agreement gone,” Sokka said as he approached, leaning against the edge of the table and crossing his arms. “I think we can both admit things are going better than either of us expected.”

“Mhm.” Zuko took a large sip, though he barely tasted the taste of the tea. “They really are.”

Silence settled between them for a moment, comfortable and anxious at the same time. The last attendants filtered out of the chamber, their footsteps fading into the corridor. One by one, the heavy doors were pulled shut, the guards taking their positions outside, leaving the two of them alone.

“Doesn’t it feel a little funny to you?” Sokka asked after a while, voice thoughtful. “How easy all of this has been, I mean.”

Zuko glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

“We hated each other to death only a few years ago,” Sokka went on. “I think I hated you longer than the amount of time I’ve actually known you. Isn’t that kind of strange to you?”

Zuko set his cup down slowly, the soft click of porcelain sounding too loud for his own ears. He followed Sokka’s gaze toward the windows, staring at the black volcanic stone walkways curving through flowering trees, their branches stirring lazily in the breeze.

“It is,” Zuko said quietly. He leaned one hand on the table beside Sokka, their arms brushing together.

“And yet…” Sokka continued. “It’s all so easy. Easy for our nations to become friends. Easy for things to fall into place faster every year. Shit— your ministers act like they love me.”

That’s because they do. Everyone who gets the chance to know you love you.

Zuko let his arm rest a little more firmly against Sokka’s, allowing himself to feel the solid line of muscle supporting his weight.

“And it’s so easy being near you, too.” Sokka said, his voice sounding a little more softer now. He leaned against Zuko, the warmth of his bare arm seeping through the layers of his robes. 

Zuko’s heart had been racing harder and harder since the conversation began, pounding so violently inside his chest that he prayed it was not loud enough for Sokka to hear it himself. He turned his face slowly in his direction, loose hair shifting across his back, only to find Sokka already staring at him.

There was no mockery in those blue eyes, no smug grin. Sokka’s expression was calm, leaving Zuko with no doubt that he was being sincere. Everything about him was so soft and yet so sharp at the same time that Zuko forgot how to speak, left only staring at his friend with what he desperately hoped was not too pathetic of an expression.

Slowly, a small smile appeared on Sokka’s face. He pushed himself upright, draping a hand over Zuko’s shoulder in a way that might have looked aggressive to another alpha if not for the gentle squeeze he gave him.

“Anyway,” Sokka said lightly, “I guess we’ll see at the next conference how much easier things can get, hm?”

He let go of Zuko’s shoulder, beginning to walk toward the door, stretching as he passed by. 

“I’m heading to my room to get ready for the party. See you there?” Sokka called over his shoulder as he crossed the chamber. Zuko bit the inside of his lip hard enough to sting, his hands tightening against the edge of the tea table. He listened to Sokka’s footsteps grow farther away.

“I wish it could be easier,” Zuko said then, his voice surprisingly steady despite the desperation twisting inside him. Sokka stopped mid-step and turned to look at him again, confusion written across his face.

Zuko swallowed, forcing his spine straight.

“I wish I could see you more,” he said, his voice too low now, too honest to take back. “I wish we didn’t have to speak through letters all the time.”

He crossed the room before his courage could abandon him, stopping when they stood close enough for him to read every shift in Sokka’s expression.

“I know we have duties,” Zuko continued. “I know this is how things have to be, but…” His throat tightened, his voice threatening to fail him. He clenched his jaw and pushed through it anyway. 

“But sometimes I think it isn’t enough.”

Sokka stared at him like he had been punched, mouth parted. 

Zuko looked away, heat rushing hard into his face as his teeth returned to worry at his lower lip. His mind scrambled uselessly for some excuse to soften what he had confessed, some way to turn it back into diplomacy, into friendship—into anything less naked than what it truly was.

“I know.”

Before he could react, Sokka had already crossed the distance between them, both hands rising to settle on Zuko’s shoulders. His thumbs brushed lightly near the base of his neck, just above bare skin.

“I miss you too,” Sokka said, and Zuko had to lock every muscle in his body to keep his scent from spilling uncontrollably.

“I miss hearing you complain all the time,” Sokka added, a grin beginning to tug at the corner of his mouth. “I miss feeling you glare at me like I’m the most irritating thing in the world—”

Zuko let out a sharp breath that might have been a laugh, his nose twitching. “That’s because you are—“

“And I definitely miss my sparring partner,” Sokka went on, his tone shifting into something more playful.“I miss kicking your royal ass.”

That pulled a real laugh from Zuko, his head shaking in disbelief. “All those days sailing have clearly damaged your brain.”

“Maybe,” Sokka said, laughing under his breath as well. His thumbs were still lightly stroking the curve of Zuko’s shoulders, sending small waves down his spine.

Then Sokka’s eyes sharpened with familiar mischief, his smile turning sly.

“Maybe we should test it out again.”

Zuko frowned. “What?”

“Fight together.” Sokka finally released his shoulders, only to jab two fingers lightly into Zuko’s ribs, making him jerk back with an indignant look. “We should spar before the party. It’s been a while since the last time we did, hasn’t it? It would be fun. Nostalgic.”

Zuko caught his wrist quickly, stopping him from poking him again. “You want to arrive bruised to a diplomatic celebration?” he asked, one eyebrow rising.

“I want to remind you that humility still exists. Show you how to lose with honor,” Sokka said with a smug smile, batting Zuko’s hands away only to try poking him again. “Plus, I’m way more built now, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

How the fuck could I not?

“You’ve never once managed that,” Zuko replied, ignoring the last part before catching Sokka’s wrist again, stopping him from jabbing at his stomach.

“Wow. Bold words for someone who almost got disarmed in the western courtyard the last time I came,” Sokka shot back, now fully pouting as he tried to tug his wrist free from Zuko’s hold.

“Important word there— almost. I still won,” Zuko said, holding back a frown. “And you cheated.”

“I improvised. Don’t be such a sore loser.”

“I’m not a sore loser, I won,” Zuko corrected him. “You threw sand in my face.”

“Well? It worked. Are we going to spar or not?”

Zuko rolled his eyes, pretending to be irritated, but something hot and restless inside him had already begun to uncurl, and Sokka noticed. Of course he did.

“There’s still plenty of time before the party,” Sokka said, stepping backward toward the corridor and tugging against the grip Zuko still had on his wrist, drawing him along. “We could spar for— what? Two? Three hours? And still show up to the celebration later.”

Zuko swallowed hard, but allowed himself to be pulled toward the doorway, his eyes tracing over Sokka’s face.

“So?” Sokka said. “What do you say, Fire Lord? Meet me in the training yard in ten minutes? Consider it our own special way of saying goodbye.”

Zuko huffed again, a little burst of warm air leaving his mouth and fogging faintly at the edges. His mouth watered with the taste of mint.

“I forgot how irritating you are,” was all Zuko said, releasing Sokka’s wrist. Sokka smiled openly when he caught the scent of Zuko’s acceptance flaring from his glands, his pupils dilating slightly.

“So I’ll see you there.”

He turned and walked down the hall, not hurrying in the slightest, completely confident Zuko would follow.

Annoyingly enough, he was right.

· ─ · ☾𖤓 · ─ ·

“Are you getting tired already, Your Highness?"

When they started training, the sun had been high and bright in the sky, now beginning to dip toward the horizon, spilling long bands of molten orange across the open training yard. The palace walls, once glaring beneath the afternoon heat, now glowed softer in the fading light, their red stone deepening into richer shades of ember and wine. 

Sokka had said they would entertain themselves for only a few hours, just enough to satisfy how they missed fighting one another— 

But three hours had turned into four. Then four into five. They paused only long enough to catch their breath before throwing themselves right back into combat, muscles straining harder with every round, the steam of the sun slowly fading while the heat between them only climbed higher.

They collided without hesitation, knowing exactly how much the other could endure. Zuko drove forward in sharp, disciplined bursts, feet carving arcs across the stone as he delivered blow after blow, each strike intense enough to scorch the air beside Sokka’s face. Sokka met him head-on, body low and grounded, ducking with fluid movements before surging forward.

Sokka twisted behind him only for Zuko to hook an arm back and send them both skidding sideways across the dust. He spun, heel cutting through the air where Sokka’s face had been a second earlier, making Sokka laugh breathlessly as he caught his ankle and yanked him off balance. 

Their scents hung thick in the air, turning the entire yard into something icy and feverish at the same time. Zuko could taste Sokka every time he breathed, the salt of the sea settling deep in his throat and nearly choking him whenever he gasped for air. It coated the back of his tongue, lingered in his lungs, made every inhale feel dangerously satisfying. Sokka, for his part, was faring no better—his breathing deep and ragged, chest rising hard. Every time Zuko let even a little more of his pheromones slip into the air, Sokka’s muscles would go rigid beneath his palms.

Sokka kept trying to crack jokes in between punches like usual, but they landed differently today for some reason. Every teasing grin and careless comment seemed edged with something that only irritated Zuko further, needling under his skin.

“Careful, Your Majesty,” Sokka panted after dodging a strike. “Wouldn’t want you getting too worked up and risking that beautiful face of yours.”

Sokka tried to land a blow to Zuko’s cheek, hitting the stone with a grunt right after when Zuko swept his legs out from under him.

All the irritation of the past week—or maybe of the last eight months—poured into Zuko’s movements, making every strike heavier, every grapple hotter than it should have been.

“You talk too much,” He snapped, hauling Sokka back upright by the arm only to shove him away again.

“Keep acting like you don’t love it,” Sokka shot back, breathless and grinning.

They were both exhausted by now, sweat clinging to their skin, dampening the hair at their temples. The entire palace had gone quiet, everyone most likely already making their way toward the celebration that would begin soon. Neither of them seemed willing to mention it.

And Zuko was not stupid, okay?

He noticed the way Sokka reacted whenever he got hit. The way he would stagger back with a sharp gasp, eyes flashing, only to come back running for more. He seemed to get mouthier the rougher Zuko became, taunting him through ragged breaths.

“That's all you’ve got?” Sokka said after taking a hard shove to the chest, voice rough and low. “I thought after all this time you’d be… stronger, you know?”

Zuko drove forward hard, slamming him back another step with a kick to his chest. Sokka made a sound in the back of his throat—half groan, half snarl—and bared his teeth.

“You’re slowing down,” Sokka mocked, circling him. “Maybe staying locked up in the palace all day made you rusty. What a blow to your honor.”

Zuko caught him by the front of his neck and threw him onto his back, knocking the air from his lungs. Still, Sokka only laughed between breaths, flushed and wild-eyed as he rose to his feet again.

Sokka had improved a lot physically since they first started training together, and he had always been a good warrior—but sometimes it almost felt like he let himself lose on purpose, moments when he had clear openings to slip free and simply… didn’t take them. 

Moments when Zuko loomed over him and Sokka looked a little too satisfied beneath the weight of him.

Which was how they ended up now.

Sokka had lunged low, aiming to tackle him around the waist, but Zuko had twisted with instinct, using Sokka’s own momentum against him. He hooked a leg around one of Sokka's ankles, sending them both crashing to the dusty ground. Before Sokka could recover, he locked a powerful thigh over his hips and trapped him, pinning his body flat. In one swift movement he caught both wrists and forced them above Sokka’s head in a firm hold, leaving him unable to do more than strain uselessly.

Zuko’s breath came hot and ragged as he hovered over him. Sweat rolled from his jaw and dripped onto Sokka’s bare chest, mixing with the sheen already there. He tried very hard not to think about that.

Sokka thrashed beneath him, twisting and trying to wrench one wrist free before bucking upward hard, trying to knock Zuko off balance. He shifted with him, tightening his grip and driving their joined hands more firmly into the stone above Sokka’s head. Sokka ruffled in annoyance, forcefully releasing one of his legs and trying to roll them over. Zuko widened his stance, pressing his thigh harder around Sokka’s hips, pinning him in place.

It earned another low growl from Sokka. He looked like an alpha on the verge of losing control, but there it was again: that small glint of satisfaction hiding underneath it all, the faintly spicy edge threading through his scent giving him away.

His scent was even stronger this close—a note of blue sage piercing Zuko’s lungs like small daggers, invading every sense and leaving him slightly dizzy. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus on anything other than all the exposed skin beneath him. 

His traitorous mind made his gaze wander anyway.

He watched slow drops of sweat roll down Sokka’s neck and gather in the hollows of his collarbones before dripping down, dripping in the ground. His chest was flushed in a deep shade of mauve, making the exposed line of his skin stand out all the more, marked by pale scars. Zuko’s eyes tracked upward along the strong column of his throat to his face.

Sokka’s cheeks were even more red now, framed by loose strands of hair beginning to slip free from his ponytail. His blue eyes were already on Zuko, half-lidded and hazy, a small chuckle slipping from his mouth when Zuko held his gaze.

“What are you laughing at?” Zuko asked, wincing internally at how affected his voice sounded.

“N’thing,” Sokka breathed out, his voice rough with exhaustion but still carrying that familiar thread of humor. “I was just thinking how cute you look when you’re frowning like that.”

“You’re so stupid.” Zuko frowned even harder, his stomach clenching involuntarily. Sokka’s eyes dropped to catch the movement, and Zuko bit out a curse under his breath.

“Yeah, yeah— you’re always calling me that,” Sokka said in a distant tone, still studying the exposed span of Zuko’s torso, his gaze moving slowly upward until their eyes met again.

He was so flushed. It looked so good on him, making his icy blue eyes stand out even more. Zuko wanted to brush his fingertips over his face and feel how warm it must be, press him a little harder against the ground just to watch him squirm some more—

“You can let me go now, you know.” Sokka said, sounding a little more breathless than usual, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Zuko released his wrists, hoping the flush creeping across his face could be blamed on the training. Sokka’s arms remained stretched above his head for a moment even after being freed, wrists resting against the black stone.

“Your form is all sloppy today,” Zuko said, forcing the words out with more confidence than he felt. He stayed hovering over Sokka’s torso despite knowing perfectly well that he should have gotten up already.

“You are so full of shit. It took you twice as long to bring me down this time,” Sokka replied indignantly. “And you’re hitting me way too hard, dude. You haven’t fought me like this since we were enemies.”

“That’s because your scent is pissing me off,” Zuko said, hands curling into fists where they rested against his pants. Sokka glared at him, pushing himself up onto his elbows just to stare more directly into his face.

“Oh yeah? Your scent is pissing me off too,” Sokka shot back, his scent thickening slightly with the words, and the sudden wave of salt made Zuko choke on his next breath.

“Great comeback. What are you, five?” Zuko asked dryly, earning a sharp growl from Sokka, who lunged in an attempt to shove him off. Zuko planted a hand against his chest, forcing him back down onto the ground, hissing when Sokka’s hands gripped his thighs in retaliation, fingers digging in.

“You’re ridiculous,” Zuko said, rolling his eyes but making no move to pull away. “And you really need to start defending yourself better, you’re all offense and no defense. You’ll never manage to defeat an enemy with all those flashy moves if you’re dead before you get the chance.”

“Aaaand there it is. You are always so judgmental—”

“I’m trying to help you—”

“Yeah, sure. You always say my fighting style is shit.”

Zuko blinked down at him in disbelief, glaring right after. “What the— are you even listening to a word I'm saying?”

“And you know what? Maybe you should start training with Jet if I’m so ridiculous,” Sokka interrupted again, his hands bunching in the fabric of Zuko’s training trousers at the hips.

He stared at Sokka’s face for a few seconds, speechless. The statement was so absurd Zuko could feel his left eye twitch with irritation.

“I— wait a minute. Jet?” Zuko shot back. “Do you even hear yourself? How would I train with Jet when he’s all the way in the Earth Kingdom, idiot? Am I supposed to fly there between council meetings just to correct his stance?”

“Haha. You are soooo funny—“

“No, really— maybe I should ask Aang if I can borrow Appa? Is that what you expect me to do?”

Sokka only shrugged, features relaxing in a pathetic attempt to feign indifference.

“Dunno. You told Master Piandao earlier that he was one of the best fighters you’ve ever faced.” He looked away as he said it, but Zuko could feel the displeasure rolling off his scent all the same—salttinged with something bitter, and for some reason the whole thing only made Zuko angrier.

He straightened his spine, glaring down at Sokka as his own scent flared, the deep burn of clove thickening in the air.

“Is that why you’re being so difficult today?” he asked, making Sokka’s eyes snap back to him. “That’s why you’ve been avoiding me all morning?” He continued, voice sharp. “Are you jealous?”

“Jealousy is a bit of a strong word,” Sokka muttered, shifting beneath him and unclenching his hands where they still rested on Zuko’s thighs. His scent eased slightly, like he was embarrassed for the first time since this whole strange conversation had begun, but there was still a lingering note of disappointment threaded through it. 

Zuko shook his head with a tired sigh, leaning down to bump their foreheads together, making Sokka wince. A soft evening breeze rattled through the trees around the yard, Zuko’s sweat-damp skin prickled at the contact of the cooling air.

“Sokka, you are not making any sense right now.”

He felt Sokka’s stomach tighten beneath his hands.

“I just— I didn’t know you still thought about Jet like that—” Sokka began, and Zuko groaned aloud, pushing his forehead against his again.

“I don’t think about him. Master Piandao and I were having a conversation about our most difficult fights without firebending and I simply answered truthfully.”

“Well, yeah, okay. But you sounded way too nostalgic describing it.”

“Just— oh, for fucks sake, stop. Stop that. You’re being so fucking weird,” Zuko said irritably, shivering again when he felt Sokka’s fingers slowly begin to stroke his thigh through the fabric of his pants.

“I’m just being a concerned friend,” Sokka said stubbornly. “Jet’s not trustworthy—”

“Jet is just a friend,” Zuko said slowly, their noses nearly brushing as he leaned again. “Or barely even that. We haven’t spoken in a long time. Our differences were settled after the war, and that was all. Why are you acting like this?”

You don’t need to act like this. 

The smell of black tea engulfed Zuko’s senses. Sokka just stared at him without saying anything, his hands looking slightly unsteady where they rested against Zuko.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you…” Zuko said, pulling back a little so he could look at Sokka better. “Your scent’s been a little different since you got here.”

“Different?” Sokka questioned, his pupils looking a little wider than usual.

“Yeah, like… spicier. Stronger than normal.”

Sokka swallowed hard, making Zuko’s gaze follow the movement of his Adam’s apple before he could stop himself.

“That’s because I’m— um. I think my… my rut’s coming up. It’s a little earlier than usual, so it got me off guard.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly, everything clicked. Zuko’s gaze dropped to the side of Sokka’s neck, where his shell necklace partially hid his scent gland, the skin around it faintly flushed.

“I-I didn’t mean to worry any of you guys about it, and I didn’t want to delay the meetings over something so— so stupid. So I figured it was better to just ignore it and go ahead with the conferences,” Sokka said, justifying himself. “And I know I’m a dominant alpha, so all of this was a little dangerous, but— we’re friends, right? Besides, I’m really strong, so I knew my secondary instincts wouldn’t get the better of me.”

“You’re way too confident for your own good.” Zuko couldn’t help the small snort that slipped out. “But yeah, I know you can control yourself. Still, you should’ve told me—”

“I know, I know. Sorry, Your Hotness—”

“I wasn’t done talking,” Zuko cut in. “I wish you’d at least given me a heads-up. In case you forgot, I’m a dominant alpha too.”

Sokka seemed to catch on to what Zuko meant, nodding more seriously for once. “Yeah, I thought about telling you, but…”

“…But?” Zuko pressed, leaning in closer again.

“You didn’t seem… exactly bothered by my scent,” Sokka continued carefully. “I mean, you didn’t smell distressed. And you didn’t get territorial about it either. So I just… let it happen.”

Zuko felt heat rise to his face, coughing to clear his throat as he nervously adjusted the strands of hair that had slipped loose from his bun.

“That’s because you’re not the only alpha who knows how to keep himself under control,” Zuko said once he felt more composed, hoping his scent wouldn’t give away how flustered he was. “But the way you’ve been acting makes more sense now.”

Sokka looked at him with a confused expression, head tilting to the side like a puppy. Zuko had to physically restrain himself from smashing his forehead against his again.

“Your scent is all over the place. And the whole complaining-about-Jet thing,” Zuko clarified. “This is your rut talking. You always get kind of stupid when it’s close.”

His voice sounded strange to his own ears. Sokka swallowed heavily once more, eyes flicking between Zuko’s eyes and mouth where his teeth caught on his lower lip.

“If you say so,” Sokka replied, his scent shifting slightly, turning less sharp, a hint of cardamom threading through it. Zuko’s muscles loosened, tension draining out of him as it soothed the headache that had been building behind his eyes since earlier that day. He wanted to pull Sokka closer, to press into his neck and bury his face against his scent gland, take a deep breath and let himself sink into it.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Zuko huffed, shaking his head. “You really are ridiculous.” he said again, but it came out softer this time, his hands settling back against the firm plane of Sokka’s stomach.

Sokka swallowed again, no smart comeback ready for once. His gaze drifted over Zuko’s face, nose flaring faintly like he was trying to catch whatever shift had happened in his scent. 

He looked away when Sokka’s stare grew too intense, turning toward the horizon where the sun was beginning to dip, painting the sky in slow, bleeding shades of purple and red. The party will be starting soon.

“I think we should go. If we hurry, we can still make it in time to the beginning of the celebration,” Zuko said, pressing his hands more firmly against Sokka. “You should take a bath—”

He shifted to stand, thigh flexing as his torso leaned back—

—and then he felt it.

Zuko froze at the exact moment Sokka let out a sharp, startled gasp.

The movement tipped Zuko’s body backwards just enough for his crotch to drag against Sokka’s half-hard cock. His fingers flexed where they rested on Sokka, nails pressing into skin. 

“Don’t—” Sokka blurted, his hands tightening hard around Zuko’s thighs as he pulled him forward again. “Don’t move—”

Zuko blinked down at him, startled, feeling a sudden rush of heat beneath him spill into the air, black tea flooding all his senses. Sokka threw an arm over his face, a furious flush spreading all the way down his chest while his breathing turned ragged.

“Sokka, what—”

“Shut up.” His lips were trembling now, voice rougher than before.

“Why are you—”

“I said shut up!” Sokka snapped. “It’s nothing! That’s... that’s a normal body reaction, okay? My rut is coming up, and you are literally sitting on top of me, and— a-and we were sparring this whole time, so my instincts are all wild and shit, so— so it doesn’t mean anything—”

Zuko rolled his hips experimentally, letting the friction build, watching Sokka choke on his words as his hands shot to his waist, holding him still.

“What the fuck are you—” Sokka started, mortified.

“Shit, you’re actually hard.” Zuko said, a hint of awe slipping through.

He knew he shouldn't do this. Knew he should get up, tell Sokka everything was fine and pretend none of this had happened, hoping their friendship was not ruined forever. But there was something so dangerously delicious in the way Sokka was looking at him now, his scent growing even richer, his arousal thick and intoxicating. 

Sokka didn’t say anything, only kept looking at him with that soft, almost helpless expression he wore sometimes, and the sight made Zuko curse under his breath. His hips moved in the slightest grind, just enough to feel Sokka’s scent burst through the air once more.

“Why is that?” Zuko pressed, sliding a hand up to Sokka’s jaw, pinning him in place. “Did getting your ass kicked turn you on? Or is it the jealousy thing?”

“’t’s not— not what you think—” Sokka stuttered, his breathing heavier now than he had been during the fight.

“Oh, yeah?” Zuko murmured, tightening his grip on Sokka’s jaw until his head tipped back just a little further. “Because to me, it looks like whatever the reason is, you got hard because of me.”

Sokka choked again, pupils blown wide, trying to bare his fangs in something meant to be threatening but somehow only managing to look adorable. Zuko let out an amused laugh, shifting his legs.

And then—

“Oh fuck,” Sokka exhaled, feeling Zuko’s hips press forward, their cocks bumping together through the layers of clothing. His hips bucked up, chasing more of it while Zuko rolled down, his hand sliding to the necklace resting over Sokka’s throat, squeezing around it. 

“Stop doing that, Zuko— fuck, let me go—“

Sokka thrashed beneath him, trying to wrench himself out of the submissive position Zuko had forced him into, but the movement only made everything worse. Zuko pressed their bodies together, grinding down while his thumb slid to the sensitive spot just beneath Sokka’s scent gland.

A sound tore from Sokka, rough and humiliated and desperate at the same time. His body arched despite himself, the muscles in his stomach jumping under Zuko’s weight.

“You sure you want me to stop?” Zuko asked, pressing harder with his thumb. Sokka bit down on his lip instead of answering, gripping Zuko’s waist as he started guiding the movement himself, forcing him to rock slowly.

“Want me to stop grinding on you like this?” Zuko breathed out as he angled his hips, letting the heads of their cocks knock together through their clothes. Sokka’s body shuddered all over, rhythm faltering completely as Zuko slid both hands behind his nape, undoing his necklace. 

He lowered his face before Sokka could understand what was happening, breathing deeply over his bare scent gland and letting the salty smell burn his lungs until he felt like he was drowning in the open sea.

Sokka tensed, the start of a growl rising in his chest. Zuko only pressed him harder against the ground, a hot tongue sliding out and making contact with the swollen skin. A burst of flavor exploded across his mouth—stormwater and cardamom, overwhelming and so good it made his cock jerk violently inside his pants. He let out a breathy moan, bending down to lick more, feeling drunk in a way an omega probably would. Sokka raked his nails across Zuko’s waist, tilting his head to the side instead of pushing him away, giving Zuko more room to mouth at his throat.

“Answer me, or I’ll get up and leave you here.” Zuko said into the skin of his neck, lifting his torso slightly as if to prove his point.

“Why do you always have to be so bossy— oh, f-fuck!”

Zuko gave a small bite just beside the irritated gland, his canine catching on the skin before slipping free.

“Answer me.” The command came with a growl Zuko hadn’t made in a long time, his instincts snarling possessively as a thick wave of dominant pheromones rolled off him.

“No—” Sokka answered, his hands holding Zuko down desperately as a moan finally broke free. “No, no, keep going, keep going, please… fuck, please—”

“Okay. Okay, shit, just let me—” Zuko muttered just as pathetically, shifting his posture so he could move more freely. He braced his hands on Sokka’s chest and glanced down at the outline of their lengths straining through their clothes, his mouth watering at the sight of Sokka’s bulge twitching with every movement. Sokka tightened his grip around Zuko’s waist and dragged him across his lap, making him grind slowly. 

“Shit. Yeah Zuko, just like that—”

“Feels good?” Zuko asked, changing the peace and moving down faster, pressing them together more firmly.

“‘S so good— feels so perfect—”

Zuko felt like thousands of dragonflies were fluttering inside his stomach, heat rushing even more into his face as he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, overwhelmed. Sokka’s hand threaded into his hair, yanking hard, forcing a startled moan out of his throat. 

Their eyes met, a spark of challenge passing between them. Sokka’s palm slid lower, grabbing Zuko’s nape.

“Got hard ‘cause of you,” Sokka said, voice low and breathy, the confession nearly making Zuko’s eyelids flutter shut, the back of his neck growing tingly beneath Sokka’s hand.

“What about me got you hard?” Zuko asked, shifting his weight so he could grind forward while still holding Sokka’s gaze, pressing their lengths together with agonizing precision. Sokka let out a breathless groan, biting his lip before exhaling. 

“Your scent. Your— fuck, your scent always drives me crazy.” Sokka said, lifting his hips to meet Zuko halfway. The pressure felt so good that it pulled a moan straight from Zuko’s mouth, his body growing sluggish, veins seeming to burn every time he breathed and was met with Sokka’s pure smell.

“I love the way you touch me,” Sokka went on, pulling Zuko’s bun loose and letting his hair fall freely down his back. “Love the way you talk down to me, the way you look at me.”

“Fuck—“ Zuko panted in bliss, feeling his whole body catch fire, his movements losing their rhythm for a few seconds as he felt a warm palm slide up his torso, fingers dragging over his stomach and brushing against his chest. His muscles clenched, body still arching toward the touch, wanting more.

“Makes me want to pin you down,” Sokka breathed out, fingers pinching lightly at his pecs. He pulled Zuko down by the hair, drawing him closer until their mouths nearly touched.

“You’d look so good falling apart and bouncing on my cock.”

To his own mortification, Zuko let out a broken, wet whimper at that, his member twitching so hard it felt like he might come any second even though Sokka wasn’t even truly touching him. Their hips kept grinding together, cocks pressing tight between their bodies—the pressure so good but so cruel at the same time that the build up kept  slipping away just as quickly. Zuko couldn’t help himself, always coming back to chase it again and again.

It felt like he would never get enough of it. 

Never get enough of the sea flooding his senses—never get enough of Sokka.

There was something delicious about their fight for dominance; maybe it was because they were both alphas, or maybe it would have happened no matter the circumstances simply because it was Sokka there with him, slowly unraveling him piece by piece.

“Who said you’d be the top?” Zuko shot back between breaths, their lips brushing together from how close they were.

“C’mon. Look at the way you’re moving on top of me,” Sokka moaned, pulling harder at Zuko’s hair, angling his face like he was about to kiss him. “It’s okay, you can admit that you’d love having my cock deep inside you. Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Fuck. It would feel so good. He knew it would. 

Zuko had thought about it more times than he cared to admit, especially on nights when the wind carried the smell of the sea into his chambers and his own hands couldn’t satisfy whatever his body needed deep inside.

He rolled his hips down hard, trying to muffle his own sounds and falling, moaning openly while Sokka’s eyes rolled back, his hold turning even more desperate as he dragged Zuko impossibly closer, sweat and pheromones clinging to their skin. His thumb found Sokka’s mouth, tugging at his lower lip and pulling it open, shivering when Sokka followed the movement pliantly.

“You talk too much.” Zuko muttered, humming when Sokka choked on a whimper. “Maybe I should put your pretty mouth to good use, mm? Finally make you shut up for once.”

Sokka let out a breathless laugh, something wild flashing in his eyes. “Yeah? You wanna fuck my throat?”

He caught Zuko’s thumb with his teeth and sucked it into his hot, wet mouth, tongue dragging over it and smearing saliva everywhere, the sight downright obscene.

It was so easy to get lost in Sokka’s gaze. So easy to just melt beneath his touch and give in to the feelings clawing at his chest.

“Oh fuck— fuck, fuck, fuck, Sokka—” The moan that tore out of Zuko was raw and unfiltered, his hips bucking wildly against Sokka’s. All he got in return was another breathless laugh, Sokka’s hands steadying his face with a firmness and care that didn’t seem to belong to a moment this desperate. He turned Zuko’s face slightly to the side, pressing soft, fleeting kisses along Zuko’s cheeks, just beneath the scar over his eye, lips brushing over his cheekbones. 

Zuko could handle the heat, the want—but the tenderness in the way Sokka was touching him was too much, his movements turning even more frantic under it.

“Sokka, ’m gonna— I think I—” Zuko slurred, voice fraying at the edges, hips rolling harder, faster, sparks shooting up his spine.

“Zuko—” Sokka moaned, pulling him back just enough so their eyes could meet again. His pupils were blown wide, his expression twisted with something intense—something deeper than just pleasure—and it made the tension inside Zuko burn even more.

All the words he’d wanted to say for so long caught in his throat. All the things he had tried to put into those letters fluttered painfully in his chest, pressing against his ribs.

But for a moment, with Sokka’s hands holding him steady and his warmth lined up so perfectly against him, Zuko let himself believe Sokka felt the same.

“Fuck,” Sokka gasped, buckling his hips. “You feel so good Zu’, you are so—”

Zuko didn’t let him finish. 

He crashed their lips together, kissing him hard and deep from the very first second, swallowing every sound Sokka made as his hands wrapped around Zuko’s neck, kissing him back just as desperately. 

He could feel their fangs catching in the kiss, but the sharpness only made it better, breath and saliva and too many feelings tangling, making both of them dizzy. Sokka’s moans and curses spilled between Zuko’s slow, messy kisses, but the hands on his face stayed gentle, thumbs brushing along Zuko’s jaw even as everything else turned rough—their hips snapping together, their cocks straining against now damp fabric, scents thickening in the air as they mixed.

It was everything Zuko had ever wanted, everything and way too much at the same time.

He came first, feeling like his body was being torn away from his soul, like he was being struck by lightning all over again. He moaned, thrashed, and bucked his hips with maybe way too much force, but Sokka kept holding him through it, kissing and licking and whispering into his mouth words Zuko couldn’t quite make out, the vibration against his lips still making him melt into it.

Sokka kept grinding his hips up even after Zuko had already finished coming, the overstimulation making him even more sensitive. He collapsed into the curve of Sokka’s neck, feeling his scent roll off him in waves right in front of his face, leaving him even more boneless, like he was floating in the ocean. 

Hands slid down Zuko’s body, gripping his ass and forcing him to keep moving, making him follow his lead even though his cock ached so badly from it.

“Sokka, c’mon—” Zuko whispered against his skin, exhausted, softness laced through his voice and not even trying to hide it. “C’mon, I want to feel you come in me—”

A raw cry tore out of Sokka’s throat, his hips jerking helplessly one last time before stilling, trembling. Zuko felt something wet spread through their clothes, making his stomach shiver all over again. He sighed, a satisfied breath slipping from his lips.

The sun had already set by then, the cool air of the early night contrasting against their damp skin. The celebration had probably started by now, but neither of them made any move to leave, clinging to each other while they slowly caught their breath. He could still feel Sokka’s cock twitching beneath him, like it was starting to harden again, his scent not losing that strong, heady edge even after he’d already come.

“Ugh. I feel so gross and sticky,” Sokka said after a while, his tone annoyed but still soft. His chest was still heaving heavily, the movement making Zuko rise and fall along with him. He snorted lightly against his neck, slowly straightening up to look down at him.

“Huh, I wonder why.”

“Stupid.”

Zuko couldn’t stop the snicker that slipped out, too relaxed to hold it back. He was the first to stand, his body slow and mind a little dizzy. He helped Sokka to stand up, their hands not letting go even once they were both on their feet.

“We should take a bath. A warm one,” Zuko said, starting to feel just as gross and sticky as Sokka. His hair was a mess.

“Yeah. We should,” Sokka agreed, though his voice was still rough, gaze unfocused. He wasn’t really looking Zuko in the eye.

“Are you feeling alright?” Zuko asked, anxiety creeping in, his mind already spiraling to the idea that Sokka might regret what they’d just done.

“Yeah— yeah, I’m fine, it’s just—” He squeezed his eyes shut, blinking a few times until his focus seemed to come back a little. “Fuck. I think you triggered my rut.”

He looked away like he’d admitted something bad, scratching the back of his neck, somehow looking unfairly cute for someone who had just dry-humped Zuko into oblivion minutes ago. Zuko swallowed, his mouth catching up before his brain did.

“Then we should spend it together.” He said simply, biting the inside of his cheek when Sokka practically snapped his head back to look at him, an even deeper flush spreading across his face.

“Are you— wait. What? You’re making fun of me, aren’t you? Are you being serious?”

Zuko allowed himself to smile, pulling him closer by the hand and pressing a small, soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling Sokka’s scent spill out wildly into the air like he couldn’t control himself anymore.

“Mhm. I’m being serious.” 

He turned toward the palace entrance, fixing his hair into a messy bun without looking back.

“Unless you’re not interested in fucking me, of course.”

He heard Sokka scrambling as he rushed after him, a bigger smile tugging at his lips at the desperate tone in his voice. 

“Wait! You’re kidding, right? You wanna spend my rut with me? Hey— fuck, you can’t just say shit like that and walk away! Zuko— wait up!”

· ─ · ☾𖤓 · ─ ·

The royal chamber rested in silence as Zuko sat by the window, his body tired but still drumming with electricity.

His hair slipped like dark silk between his fingers as he carefully drew the comb through it. A small ceramic dish sat beside him, filled with fragrant oil. He dipped his fingers into it, working it through the ends. He set the comb aside once he felt it was done, exhaling slowly, but the tension didn’t leave him. He had finished bathing a while ago, long enough for his hair to be almost completely dry.

Sokka should have been back by now.

Zuko’s gaze flicked toward the doors, glaring at them as if his anxiety were somehow their fault. His hand grazed the base of his neck and shoulder, then slid down the muscles of his arm, squeezing as he tried to ease the tension there.

What if Sokka had come to his senses?

He was taking so long… maybe he had gone to the party? Or even worse, maybe he was already at the docks preparing to leave. 

What if the reality of what they had done had finally settled in? What if he realized that all of it had just been a rut-hazed moment? That he didn’t want Zuko, that he never would—

Zuko's jaw tightened, a thin stream of flames skipping from his nostrils when he huffed in irritation. He stood abruptly, the movement breaking the fragile stillness of the room. For a moment, he just paced, the soft fabric of his robes whispering against the floor, agitation simmering just beneath his skin like fire with nowhere to go.

He always did this, always let his feelings take hold of himself. Of course this was a mistake—Zuko’s very existence had always been a mistake—and now he had ruined the only thing that didn’t make him feel like a piece of shit. He shouldn’t have let himself—

The doors opened with a loud bang, making Zuko turn in their direction instantly, drawing in a shaky breath and almost choking on it right after.

Sokka was there. And he smelled different.

There was the clean smell of bath, the familiar herbalness of the Fire Nation’s oils and soaps. His usual scent was there too, fresh and salty, but there was something else beneath it now—the blue sage threaded with something stronger, a little too much and yet not unpleasant at all. The pheromones took over his chamber in seconds, and the thought of his room finally smelling like Sokka made Zuko’s skin tingle all over.

There was no doubt. Sokka’s rut had truly set in.

And he chose to come to him. He didn’t run away.

“So, the bath was to your liking?”

Zuko had half expected to be met with the usual teasing remarks, but Sokka didn’t say anything at all. He closed the doors behind him and stepped closer slowly, his eyes never leaving Zuko’s as he came to a stop in front of him, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths.

“Wow, you’re completely out of it already, huh?” Zuko said, fighting the urge to shiver as he wrapped his arms around Sokka’s back, slowly pulling his bath robe off, fingers sliding over his skin. 

The fabric fell to the floor with a dull thud, but Sokka didn’t spare it a glance, stepping over it as he began pressing kisses and licks along Zuko’s neck, his saliva feeling almost like it burned against his skin. Zuko exhaled shakily, eyes closing as he tilted his neck to the side.

“‘M still conscious,” Sokka said between licks, his teeth dragging just below Zuko’s jaw, leaving a mark there. “But I won’t be for much longer. So if you want to back out, now’s the time.”

His voice was deeper than usual, something almost like a growl at the end of it. Sokka’s fangs scraped his skin again, just barely brushing the edge of his scent gland—and that was the last thing Zuko needed before tugging Sokka toward the bed, throwing him down onto it.

Sokka landed against the bed with a soft bounce, his body bare and flushed, cock already hard. Zuko paused in front of him, one knee resting on the mattress as he let the robe wrapped around his body fall to the floor, feeling Sokka’s gaze slide over his exposed skin, a possessive grumble rising in his throat when his eyes landed on Zuko’s hard, twitching cock.

Zuko caught his chin between two fingers, tilting his gaze back up to him, their faces drawing closer as he leaned in.

“I want you to understand something,” Zuko said slowly, not bothering to hide the desire in his voice. “I want this. I’m here because I want to help you.”

He climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he moved closer, swinging one leg over Sokka’s hips and settling himself against him. The contact drew a sharp breath from both of them, their cocks centimeters apart. 

Zuko’s hands found his shoulders first, then slid upward, fingers curling loosely at the back of Sokka’s neck until he was holding his face.

“So forget the whole playing nice thing. I don’t want you to be careful,” Zuko murmured, his lips brushing just at the corner of Sokka’s mouth. 

“I want all of it. All of you.”

Sokka took a deep breath before capturing Zuko’s lips in a kiss, their tongues tangling and sliding against each other wetly. Zuko’s body relaxed into Sokka’s lap, letting out a needy sound when their cocks brushed for a few seconds, feeling a low grumble rumble in Sokka’s chest before his senses blurred.

He suddenly found himself lying on his back on the bed, cool sheets meeting his heated skin and making him shiver. Sokka loomed over him, hair loose and still damp, framing a hungry gaze. 

“Then I want to see you submitting to me,” Sokka said, wrapping his hands around Zuko’s knees and pressing them apart. His inner alpha didn’t want to listen, but he followed the command anyway, body fully on display as Sokka let out a satisfied hum, his gaze trailing down and taking in every inch of Zuko’s exposed form.

He could feel Sokka’s arousal drumming in the air, the urge to be rough and just make Zuko take it. Still, his touch remained surprisingly gentle, almost reverent as his hands slid along Zuko’s inner thighs, feeling the muscle jump beneath his palm.

“You are so beautiful,” Sokka said, pressing his fingers between his cheeks, watching Zuko’s body tremble as one of his fingers began to move in slow, soft circles around his rim. “I can’t even believe you’re letting me touch you like this.” 

A long string of saliva landed right over Zuko’s hole, the act so lewd and degrading that he felt himself twitch, a growl threatening to rise but dying in his throat when he felt Sokka’s fingers spreading the wetness around.

He wanted to lunge forward and bite at Sokka’s neck in retaliation, but a deeper, needier part of him couldn’t stop silently begging for more, his waist subtly following the movement. Sokka gave him what he wanted, slowly pressing his finger inside up to the first knuckle.

The sensation was overwhelming. Zuko let out a small sound when Sokka tried to push deeper, gripping the sheets beneath him to ground himself.

“Come here, Zu’,” Sokka whispered, pulling him into a kiss when he noticed his discomfort. Their lips met, and this time it was slower, more thorough. Sokka licked into his mouth with controlled movements, and Zuko allowed himself to be taken apart, Sokka’s finger opening him up slowly, his hips starting to grind gently against the intrusion as he sucked on Sokka’s tongue, not even realizing when a second finger slipped inside.

“I’ll take care of you,” Sokka said against his lips. “I’ll make it so good, I promise you— you just need to open up for me, love.”

Liquid fire ran down Zuko’s spine when he felt a third finger press at his entrance, his ears ringing at the way Sokka called him. He simply spread his legs wider, heat and shame and so much love tangling inside him as Sokka moved closer, his other hand squeezing and stroking every inch of Zuko he could reach. Their mouths parted with a wet gasp, a string of saliva connecting them before snapping in the air.

A flare of black tea followed as their eyes met.

“I can take more,” Zuko said, scratching at Sokka’s arm, feeling a fourth finger threatening to push in. He tugged Sokka down by the hair and tried to distract himself by licking and kissing at his neck, breathing in his scent as a moan slipped from his lips.

“Yeah, Zu’, c’mon,” Sokka breathed out, pushing the fourth finger a little too fast. “I know you can take it— look at you.”

His mind was swimming, overwhelmed by the alpha above him, feeling himself clench and grow slick with Sokka’s saliva coating his fingers. A warm hand slid down and cupped Zuko’s balls, making him cry out, and Sokka took the opportunity to start scissoring his fingers inside him. 

“You’re getting wet like an omega,” Sokka said, spitting at his hole once more and capturing Zuko’s mouth in another kiss right after, groaning against his lips, eyes looking completely out of it. “Look at the mess you’re making.”

Zuko moaned, his eyes almost rolling back when Sokka worked his fingers on a spot that felt way more sensitive than the others. He could feel his body growing hotter, a thin sheen of sweat condensing over his skin. He could cum just from this.

“Get on your knees,” Sokka said, his fingers slipping out of Zuko a little too quickly, making him wince. He glared at Sokka through his lashes, letting out a sharp huff that almost sparked into flame.

“I’m not going to present to you,” Zuko nearly growled, drawing a low sound from Sokka in response.

“But I thought—”

Zuko snorted, rolling his eyes. “That’s a first.”

“Fuck you,” Sokka shot back against his lips, “You are going to present to me. Now.” He said like it was a fact, and the tone alone set Zuko off. 

The candles around the room flared brighter as Zuko shoved him hard down onto the mattress, thighs settling on either side of Sokka’s torso before he could react.

“I think you are misunderstanding things,” Zuko said, yanking Sokka back down when he tried to rise, muscles tightening with the effort of holding an alpha in rut in place.

“I’m letting you fuck me to your heart’s content, letting you go hard and deep exactly the way you want…” His hand trailed down Sokka’s chest, nails scratching hard over the flesh wherever they passed.

“But I’m not the omega. I’m not going to present to you, Sokka.” Zuko said, bracing one hand on his thigh and arching his body back.

Sokka followed the curve of him with an expression that looked desperate and lovestruck all at once. A low rumble rose from his chest, and Zuko could feel it all the way through the hand resting on his stomach. 

But it didn’t sound like a threat—it was almost as if Sokka were purring.

“Besides, didn’t you say you wanted to see me bouncing on your cock? That I’d look beautiful doing it?” Zuko went on with a smirk, reaching behind himself to grab the heavy length of Sokka’s cock, slowly stroking it and feeling how soaked with precum it already was.

He lined it up with his hole slowly, feeling Sokka’s whole body tremble when the tip caught at his entrance, the scent of clove flaring into the air.

“Zuko… mpph— Zuko, please—” Sokka took a choked breath, bringing his face closer with a hand at Zuko’s nape, trying to kiss him, but his jaw was held firmly in place as Zuko only licked at his lips, teasing him with half-kisses before pulling away. 

“Fuck,” Zuko moaned, sinking a little lower, feeling that hot length filling him and pressing against all the right spots. “Why are you’re so— nngh… so big— shit.”

His thighs trembled with the effort of lowering himself inch by inch, so he took one deep breath before fucking himself all the way down at once, Sokka’s moan ringing in his ears. He dropped his head onto Sokka’s shoulder, trying to catch his breath as the feeling of fullness consumed him from the inside out. It was so fucking much it boarded on painfull. 

Sokka ran his hands over Zuko’s heated back, brushing his hair out of the way, and Zuko only shivered even harder beneath his touch.

“Sooo… you’re not going to move? I’m waiting.” Sokka said, and Zuko didn’t even need to look at him to know he was wearing that smug grin. He bit lightly at Sokka’s shoulder in retaliation, feeling laughter vibrate where their chests were pressed together.

He wrapped a hand in Zuko’s hair and pulled hard, earning a startled moan from him, eyes fluttering when he felt Sokka’s cock twitch inside him.

“S-shut up. Stop moving, let me just…”

His words trailed off into a whine when Sokka lifted his hips lightly, driving his cock deeper.

“I was promised a nice show of the Fire Lord riding me,” Sokka said, one of his hands stroking over Zuko’s muscular chest before sliding down, fingers gliding over the muscles of his abs. “C’mon, Zu’... Didn’t you say you were going to help me?”

Zuko felt Sokka’s palm press against his lower belly, a firm pressure that made everything feel even more intense—like he could feel exactly where Sokka was buried inside.

Then, two things happened at once.

First, Zuko came. Hard.

So fucking hard he tough he was dying.

Heat rushed through him so fast it stole the breath from his lungs. His whole body tensed, then shook violently, his hole clenching around Sokka’s cock and somehow drawing him even deeper, pressing against his prostate. A loud, helpless moan tore from Zuko’s throat as his cock spilled between them, streaking hot spurs across Sokka's stomach. His hips jerked uselessly, body chasing the sensation even as it crashed through him in waves.

Then the second thing happened.

The feeling of fullness inside him grew suddenly, impossibly deeper—a warm, wet pulse flooding into him. Zuko gasped against Sokka’s shoulder, trembling harder as he felt something wet leak around the place where they were joined. 

Sokka’s release soaked through him, the sensation rich and intimate enough to leave Zuko feeling like he might faint.

Being filled like this—claimed like this—seemed to unlock some new part of Zuko’s brain somehow, a part that couldn’t stop wanting to feel this again, his hips grinding down against Sokka even though it hurt every time he so much as breathed.

And Sokka’s cock didn’t even soften. It only throbbed inside him every time Zuko made the smallest movement, making Zuko whimper weakly at the renewed friction.

“F-fuck—” Sokka stuttered, holding him close and moaning against his mouth, Zuko hadn’t even realized they’d been kissing the whole time. “Did you just come from this?” 

His palm pressed at that same spot again, making Zuko clutch at his shoulders and roll his hips, moaning in such a needy and pathetic way but unable to care because it felt so good. 

“Yeah? You like having me inside you?” Sokka asked in between open-mouthed kisses, and Zuko only gave a wet sound of agreement before kissing him back just as messily, spit running between their mouths.

“Ride me then,” Sokka growled out, grabbing Zuko’s hair with a fistful of ponytail and forcing him up with one hand on his ass before bringing him back down. “Wanna see you bounce on my cock, wanna make you come again—”

Zuko moaned, starting to roll his hips, nails scraping over Sokka’s shoulders, thighs rubbing against him as he began to move faster—shifting from grinding down to bouncing in deep thrusts, his cock already fully hard again and bobbing between their bodies. He pressed a kiss on Sokka’s collarbone, licking at the salt he didn’t know if it came from his scent or from his sweat, making Sokka groan and tilt his head so Zuko could start biting and licking around his throat.

He feels so full. So good and so deep, and it’s all too much all at once. He could feel Sokka’s scent rolling over him in waves, and it was like being held underwater by the sheer intensity of it. Sokka’s release only made everything slicker to grind against, and he could feel something building and building and building, stronger with every second. When Sokka adjusted his legs and drove his hips upward to meet Zuko’s bouncing halfway, it felt like his whole body was erupting.

He came again so hard it made his vision blur for a moment, arching back and still continuing to grind and twitch on Sokka’s cock like he couldn’t get enough, like he wanted to burn up and come back to life all over again just so he could return for more.

One moment he was looking at Sokka’s beautiful, perfect face moaning and growling with pleasure, and the next his back was hitting the bed beneath him once more, Sokka’s cock slipping out for only a moment before thrusting back with one sharp thrust that stole all the air from his lungs.

“Yeah,” Sokka moaned, hips pounding hard as he fucked him with everything he had, looming over Zuko with a dreamy smile, his voice sounding completely out of it. “Yeah, fuck— You feel so perfect, Zuko.” 

It was too much, seeing Sokka stare at him like that—looking as if he was everything Sokka wanted, almost like he—

Zuko turned his face to the side, closing his eyes and feeling his cock harden again, his hole tightening.

“You smell so good,” Sokka whispered in his ear, running his hands up Zuko’s trembling thighs, over his hips and across his stomach, coming up to pinch his nipples and making Zuko whine while still rocking through it. Sokka’s mouth lowered and bit at his earlobe, the action making Zuko throw his head back, presenting his neck as Sokka wasted no time marking him up eagerly.

He couldn’t believe he was submitting this easily—couldn’t believe he didn’t even care about it, only baring his throat even more.

Hickeys and bites were pressed into him, making his skin hurt, leaving Zuko thrashing on the mattress. Sokka pinned him back in place with a firm hand around his waist, his cock driving so hard and so deep inside that Zuko deliriously thought Sokka was carving out a space inside him, leaving him marked up and fucked out for anyone else.

Never in his life had he thought he would like this—being submissive, letting Sokka do whatever he wanted to him and silently begging for more. 

It was humiliating. 

It was perfect and so good and everything he had always needed.

And he still wanted more. Wanted Sokka to claim him. To mark him as his and never leave his side again.

So he arched his neck further, a trembling hand moving through Sokka’s hair and guiding his head toward his scent gland, moaning and choking on senseless words when he felt a warm tongue lap at it.

That was when he felt it.

There was a growing pressure building against his rim, and he realised through the haze that Sokka’s cock was swelling at the base, an insistent pressure striking deep inside him every time he thrust back in.

Sokka buried his face in Zuko’s neck, panting hard, muffling every moan against his skin. Zuko’s whole body shook, still trying to adjust to the swelling while Sokka continued fucking his thick lenght in and out like he couldn’t stop for even a second. His hands slid down Zuko’s sides in a desperate way before grabbing handfuls of his ass, pulling him flush into each thrust, making Zuko feel every movement, every vein of Sokka’s cock massaging his insides, the pressure only building.

“Sokka, wait—” Zuko hiccupped, feeling like his whole body was going to melt, like it was so good but at the same time too much and he wouldn’t be able to take it.

“Please,” Sokka panted against his skin, voice thick and wrecked, face moving to lick at Zuko’s tears that he didn’t even realize were falling. “Zuko, please— need you, you’re just so— fuck, I wanted this for so long— just a little more, okay? Just a little more, please, please, please—”

And Zuko couldn’t do anything but take it. He didn’t want to do anything but take Sokka’s cock for the rest of his life. He wants to be good, wants Sokka to be proud of him and come back to him every time his rut hits, because Zuko takes him better than anyone ever could. 

Better than any omega ever could.

Zuko’s mouth fell open, a moan that sounded more like a purr spilling from his throat, legs wrapping around Sokka’s torso and pulling him even closer.

He felt warm lips pressing against his scent gland, Sokka’s tongue darting out to lick at it, moaning and latching onto it with his teeth when Zuko’s scent flared wildly in the air.

“My perfect alpha—” Sokka gasps, and Zuko can feel his ear ringing, barely managing to hear Sokka continue, “...than any omega could ever be. You are so perfect, Zu’.”

I love you. I love you, fuck— please let me stay by your side forever—

“Bite me.”

Sokka barely pulled his hips out before slamming his knot inside with one powerful thrust, his jaw closing right over Zuko’s scent gland, sinking his teeth into flesh, claiming him. 

Zuko’s mewl got stuck in his throat, his body trembling underneath Sokka.

When he started thrashing too much, Sokka pinned him to the mattress with the weight of his body, wrapping his arms around him, moaning and whimpering with his teeth still digging in his neck as he came hard, cock pulsing and spilling deep inside, knot sealing everything in and only making Zuko feel even fuller.

“Oh Gods,” Zuko sobbed, every muscle in his body melting as he came again, his vision going black while he felt his cock twitch, barely spurting a watery release all over his stomach. The sensation of Sokka’s hips trembling in aftershocks kept his cockhead grinding against his prostate, prolonging the waves of his orgasm while Zuko moaned and shook, overstimulation  wrecking him from the inside out.

He felt distinctly like something in his soul had changed. Like he has a new scar in a way, forever marked by Sokka deep inside him.

“I want you again,” Sokka murmured, letting go of his neck to lick at the blood spilling from the wounded gland, rolling his hips slowly and making Zuko melt when he felt his knot tugging inside, pain and pleasure blending into that hazy thing he knows is love. “Can I? Please?”

Sokka looked down at him, blue eyes shining with tears and with a gleam Zuko couldn't quite place. He brought their mouths together again, one hand in Sokka’s brown hair, kissing him slow and deep with trembling lips, feeling Sokka melt over him.

“You can,” Zuko said softly, their noses brushing together, realising he would let Sokka do whatever he wanted with him if it meant making him happy. “Take what you need.”

Sokka let out a shaky breath before kissing him again, and Zuko felt him begin to move once more, every thrust slow and needy, as if Sokka was trying to carve himself even deeper into his body and soul.

Zuko let him do it, his body falling apart as he held him close.

· ─ · ☾𖤓 · ─ ·

The small ray of sunlight falling across his eyes woke Zuko up.

He blinked slowly, taking a moment to understand his surroundings. Sokka’s arms twitched around him when he shifted, their bodies still tangled together beneath the sheets that had been pulled over them sometime in the night. One of Sokka’s legs was draped heavily over his, warm and possessive, while Zuko’s face rested against the steady rise and fall of his chest.

He didn’t remember drifting off to sleep, only fragments of the moments before it—the deep, soothing rumble that had vibrated through Sokka’s chest and into his own, easing every last knot of tension from his body, the broad hands that had stroked gently over his scent gland until Zuko had melted bonelessly against him. 

Those same hands were in his hair now, fingers threading through the dark strands with tenderness, scratching lightly at his scalp before smoothing down the length of it. 

At some point Sokka must have cleaned him up as well, because his skin felt fresh and comfortable instead of sticky and sore, the bed around them smelled faintly of clean linen and salt.

“Hey,” Sokka said when Zuko finally lifted his head to look up at him, his hands never stopping as they moved from Zuko’s hair to stroke slowly down his back.

“Morning,” Zuko murmured, voice rough with sleep. He noticed that Sokka’s scent had changed—calmer now, steadier, the sharp restless edge gone. He blinked.

“Your rut ended?”

“Mhm. It did.”

Zuko frowned, pushing himself up onto his elbows slowly so he could study him properly. “Is it always that fast for you? Mine usually takes three days to pass. Sometimes even more.”

“Uh— yeah, mine too,” Sokka said, a pink color creeping over his cheeks. “I guess this time one night was… more than enough. I feel satisfied.”

Zuko felt heat rush into his own face, biting his lip.

“Oh.”

Images flooded Zuko’s mind, reminding him of glimpses from the night before—Sokka fucking him deep and hard, his cock thrusting into his mouth, between his thighs, carving himself deep inside his hole when Zuko begged to feel him again. Sokka had come so many times inside him that by the end Zuko could feel a small bump in his lower belly, delirious with the sensation of Sokka inside him.

Sokka cleared his throat, blinking hard as if he was remembering all of this too. His gaze dropped to the bruised, marked skin of Zuko’s neck before climbing back to his eyes.

“Was I… too rough with you?” he asked quietly, tumbling carefully around the raw skin. “Are you hurting?”

“I’m fine,” Zuko said, though his body ached pleasantly in places he would definitely feel later. He found himself wondering how he was going to face his ministers with all the hickeys and bite marks littering his neck and chest, but beneath it all he couldn’t bring himself to truly care, satisfaction thrumming under his skin.

He looked at Sokka, holding back a laugh when he felt his cock twitching lightly against Zuko’s thigh, seeming just as satisfied at the sight of his marked body.

“To be honest, I liked it.”

Sokka blushed, and Zuko felt himself grow bolder, encouraged by it. He nosed at his cheek.

“I liked passing your rut with you.” He placed a small kiss at the corner of his mouth, feeling Sokka exhale softly. “Liked feeling you inside me.” Another kiss, this one trailing down toward his neck. 

“I liked feeling full of you.”

Sokka moaned brokenly when Zuko lapped gently at his scent gland, still a little puffy from all the pheromones, feeling his own twitch in response to the temporary bond they were sharing.

In a few days, the marks of Sokka’s teeth would fade from Zuko’s neck, even the mating bite. It would be as if none of this had ever happened, and they would go back to speaking through letters, Sokka’s scent and eyes and embrace and everything about him existing only in Zuko’s memories until spirits knew when.

“I liked it too. A lot.”

He bit lightly at Sokka’s scent gland, feeling him twitch and groan beside him, arms wrapping around his body and pulling Zuko deeper into his hold, shivering as he stroked over his skin.

They stayed in silence for a while. Chest to chest, feeling their hearts beat together and their scents drifting through Zuko’s chambers—salt and smoke wavering in unison. 

Then Sokka gently tilted Zuko’s face up with one hand beneath his chin, blue eyes wetter than usual.

“It’s time,” Sokka said softly, thumb brushing over the scar on Zuko’s face. “I need to go. The ship will be departing soon.”

Zuko said nothing. He only leaned his face into Sokka’s palm, eyes falling shut because he knew that if he kept looking at him, he would not be able to hold back the anger and tears threatening to spill free.

A shaky sigh left him before he let his face fall back against Sokka’s neck.

“I know.”

Sokka wrapped his arms around him again, and this time Zuko knew it would be the last embrace until they saw each other many months from now. 

The future felt so uncertain that rage made him tremble. He came apart quietly in Sokka’s embrace, letting the scent of seawater drown him for one more moment before the inevitable had to happen.

For the first time, he felt cold even with the sunlight kissing his skin.

· ─ · ☾𖤓 · ─ ·