Actions

Work Header

Moving Mountains

Chapter 12: but I love you most of all

Notes:

Alright, here we are, everyone! It’s so bittersweet to finally bring this fic to an end. I thought about spreading it out a bit more and exploring their relationship immediately following the previous chapter, but honestly, I feel like I’ve said everything I wanted to say in this fic. This whole story has centered around change and the boys’ ability to choose their own fate despite the fact that they’re destined to be together, and I felt like this was a good ending for it.

I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you all so much for reading.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

So, here we go, hold on tight and don't let go
I won't ever let you fall
I love the night, flying over these city lights
But I love you most of all

- A Song For Milly Michaelson - Thrice



TEN YEARS LATER

Sokka has always hated getting up early. He never particularly cared for cold early mornings in the South Pole, even if it meant going fishing or hunting with his dad when he was just a kid. And after everything changed - after Sokka became the man of the house when all the men went off to war - he hated cold, lonely early mornings even more. And whatever magic of early mornings that was left was ruined once he and Katara went on the run with Aang. Months on the road with the Avatar, sleeping on lumpy, uneven ground, only to wake with the sun and spend the entire day traveling or fighting off firebenders or scrounging for food took the joy out of early mornings and pretty sunrises when Sokka was just a teenager. But after the end of the war, he finds that it’s hard to break the habit. Sometimes, if he tries hard enough, he can fall back asleep for a few more hours and get some extra shuteye, but for the most part, Sokka still wakes up early, even now. 

Although now , things are different. 

He doesn’t hate it so much, now. In fact, Sokka actually revels in the glow of the early morning light, filtering in easily through the open window on cool summer mornings, before the heat of midday settles in. He loves the way that the early morning sun paints the bedroom with white and gold and yellow. He even loves the sound of birds chirping outside the window, of turtleducks quacking in the ponds below, of the wind blowing gently through the trees that surround the quaint little vacation house on Ember Island. He loves the feeling of the ocean water on his toes in the morning, loves the feeling of the warm sun on his bare chest, balanced by a cool morning chill still in the air. 

And spirits, what Sokka really loves about early mornings these days is the sight that he wakes up to most mornings, when he occasionally rises just before his partner. It’s not often that Sokka wakes before him - he’s a naturally early riser after all - but he revels in early mornings like this, when the sun just barely peeks in through the window as Sokka opens his eyes and stretches against soft, silky bed sheets, waking up slowly on his own without disturbing the warm form next to him. And as the sun begins to rise, painting the sky outside in pinks and oranges and yellows, Sokka can’t help but appreciate the way that the morning light bathes his boyfriend’s peaceful, sleeping face in soft pastels, casting smooth shadows of eyelashes and long hair and the sharp slope of his nose across his face. 

Mostly, Sokka just really likes mornings now because of Zuko. Early mornings are sacred between him and Zuko, a quiet moment that they can share together before the day really begins. Early mornings are reserved for slow kisses and wandering hands and hushed “I love you’s” under the sheets, where they’re rarely interrupted by an international crisis or meetings or diplomats that need to speak with the Fire Lord.

No, early mornings are theirs. 

Sokka relishes moments like this one in particular, especially because they’ll have the entire morning and the whole day together. They arrived on Ember Island late yesterday afternoon and if all goes according to plan, their little vacation getaway will last another three days. Three days of lazy, early mornings and tea on the beach and sparring in the courtyard, if that’s what they want to do. Or they can just spend the entire day in bed, which Sokka wouldn’t really mind at all. 

They’ll cross that bridge when they get there, he decides. For now, he’s content to admire Zuko’s peaceful, sleeping form for a few more minutes before he eventually wakes up. Right now, he’s curled up on his side, long, inky hair spilling all over his face and shoulder and pillow. The sunlight casts a warm glow and long shadows across his body, which is covered by scarlet sheets. And spirits, Sokka could stare at him all day. 

It’s wild, he thinks, how they ended up where they are now. A little over fifteen years ago, Sokka laid eyes on that face for the very first time, and if anyone would have told him that he’d be happily waking up next to him now, he would have laughed. He never imagined himself here, but he’d never take it back, either. 

It goes so much further than all of that spirit, soulmate mumbo-jumbo, too. Sure, the spirits chose them for each other, they were meant to be together, whatever , but Sokka likes to think that, even if he couldn’t hear Zuko’s thoughts, he still would have ended up with him. Sokka’s proud to call someone as compassionate and sensitive and thoughtful as Zuko his partner, his lover, his boyfriend, his soulmate. He and Zuko understand each other unlike anyone else, and Sokka knows that it’s partially because of their spiritual bond, but he knows that they’d still be close, even without that. From the start, Sokka easily shared parts of himself with Zuko that he never shared with anyone else, and Zuko did the same. They know and love each other inside and out. 

The physical aspects aren’t all that bad, either, Sokka finds himself thinking as he admires Zuko’s sleeping form. His lean body, his strong hands, quick tongue and gentle lips. Couple that with his long hair and liquid gold eyes, and it’s enough to make Sokka stare with open admiration, even now.

Spirits, he loves this man. 

“I can hear you, y’know.”

Zuko’s half-awake, mumbled words shake Sokka from his reverie. Zuko’s eyes are still closed, but his lips are curled up into a small, sleepy smile, and Sokka wants to smack it off of his face. Or kiss it. Jury’s still out. 

Oh, who’s he kidding? He obviously wants to kiss that stupid smile off of his perfect, handsome face. And then, you know, keep kissing him, probably. 

“Can still hear you,” Zuko mumbles, cutting Sokka’s thoughts short. He sounds a little more awake than he did a moment ago, so Sokka decides that teasing him is fair game. 

“The next time you sleep in, I’m just gonna think about annoying shit really hard until it makes its way into your dreams,” Sokka mutters, unable to keep the smile from his voice. 

“Don’t think it works that way,” Zuko retorts. At that, he reaches out, attempting to pull Sokka closer to him under the covers. 

“Nuh-uh, I’m not going back to sleep, we are not wasting this beautiful day,” Sokka argues, even as he allows Zuko to sleepily manhandle him closer, even as Zuko presses his face into the crook of his neck.

Zuko just hums in response. “Fifteen more minutes.” 

Sokka already knows that he’s going to cave, but he keeps up the act, groaning. “What’s with you? Aren’t firebenders supposed to rise with the sun , or whatever?”

“That’s just a figure of speech,” Zuko retorts. Finally, his eyes slowly blink open and Sokka can’t help the way that his breath catches in his throat. Nearly ten years into their relationship and Zuko’s looks - his eyes - still take his breath away, especially in the soft morning light. He used to be so scared of eyes like Zuko’s, the gold eyes of a firebender used to mean danger, but now, he’d gladly drown in his molten irises. 

“You’re feeling particularly sappy this morning,” Zuko remarks with a lopsided smirk, and Sokka wants to headbutt him. Or dance his fingers across his ribcage until Zuko is gasping with laughter. Or kiss him until he can’t breathe. 

“Yeah, well, you look particularly handsome this morning,” Sokka shoots back, deciding not to hide behind a witty comeback. The fact of the matter is, Zuko always looks handsome. And although Zuko knows that Sokka thinks this already, it still earns a blush from him every single time. This morning is no different. 

“My hair is a mess,” he grumbles, “And I need a bath.”

Sokka just hums thoughtfully, his hand skimming across Zuko’s bare skin under the sheets. “Just evidence of a good time last night, if I do say so myself.” He leans in for a kiss and Zuko meets him halfway, melting into the touch. 

Zuko is all but pliant underneath him, despite having just woken up. As they kiss, it takes no time before the firebender is curling his fingers into Sokka’s hair, the other one skirting down his side to pull him closer by his waist. Although Zuko sometimes has a hard time asking for what he wants, he has never been a passive lover, and Sokka appreciates that about him. He revels in the feeling of strong hands pulling him closer, of nimble fingers tugging on his hair. 

“Fifteen more minutes.”

The whisper of Zuko’s voice in his head will never grow old. And in moments like this, it never fails to send a shiver down Sokka’s spine. When they eventually part, gold eyes bearing into blue, Zuko’s breath feels hot against his lips - hotter than the midday summer sun that they’ll catch once they eventually make it out of bed. 

Sokka lets his hand run down the side of Zuko’s neck, his thumb dipping into the hollow of his throat as he hums thoughtfully. “Make it twenty, and you’ve got a deal,” he breathes.

Zuko doesn’t even bother to say anything else in response - he just pulls him down for a searing hot kiss. 

And spirits, Sokka loves Zuko like this, too. Zuko, sleepy and needy and entirely vulnerable. Zuko, half awake and already half-hard as Sokka rolls on top of him, taking control of the kiss and straddling his hips. Zuko, who easily gasps Sokka’s name when he eventually touches him, who comes apart easily and feels like putty in Sokka’s hands. Never in a million years did Sokka ever dream that he’d see Zuko like this, but he loves every moment of it. It makes getting up early entirely worth it, if they can spend their mornings like this. 

Eighteen minutes later, as they’re both coming down from their post-coital high, Sokka also finds himself thinking that he loves Zuko like this as well, painted in warm morning light, eyes closed, a lazy smile spread across his face, sweat matting his long hair to his forehead and neck. He doesn’t look like a Fire Lord, like this - not that Sokka minds that look either - but instead, he just looks like Sokka’s. This is a sight that is reserved for Sokka and Sokka alone; not any of Zuko’s advisors, not his guards or his council and not even their closest friends. Just Sokka. And as he admires Zuko’s features in the warm summer sunlight, as he presses a wet kiss to Zuko’s temple, he can’t help the wave of possessiveness and absolute adoration that washes over him. 

Zuko surprises him by snorting out an unexpected laugh, shaking Sokka from those thoughts.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, a smile pulling on his lips. He cocks his head slightly to the side, waiting for Zuko’s teasing words to come. 

Zuko doesn’t open his eyes immediately and instead just murmurs thoughtfully, “I was just thinking...”

“Well that’s a surprise,” Sokka shoots quickly, which earns a glare from his boyfriend, who’s suddenly looking up at him.

“I was thinking,” Zuko repeats, challenging Sokka to interrupt with a hard gaze, “That maybe, it wouldn’t have taken so long for us to get together all those years ago if you would have just been this openly romantic back then.”

Sokka opens his mouth to argue that he hasn’t even said anything sappy all morning (except for maybe commenting on how beautiful Zuko looked with his mouth wrapped around his cock, but he’s sure he’s not talking about that) before it clicks. 

Right . Soulmates. Somehow, he always forgets about the fact that Zuko can hear his thoughts when he’s like this, waxing poetic about the other man in his head. Sokka offers Zuko a grin before flopping lazily across his chest. 

“Zuko, romance is like a fine wine,” Sokka says with a deep voice in an attempt to channel the wisdom of the Fire Lord’s uncle, “It only gets better with age.”

“Yeah, and maybe you should learn when to put a cork in it,” Zuko shoots back quickly, which elicits a peel of laughter from Sokka. 

“And they call me the funny guy!” Sokka exclaims, “That was good, Zu -”

“Please,” Zuko interrupts, suddenly reaching forward to anchor his hand at the back of Sokka’s neck, “Never do an impression of my uncle when you’re lying naked in bed with me. Ever. Again .

That only earns another laugh from Sokka, who, despite Zuko’s resistance, leans forward to press a sloppy kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he insists between decreasingly violent, messy kisses, “Will you ever forgive me?”

Zuko’s not really mad, and Sokka doesn’t need to be able to read his mind to tell. Just the look in his eyes gives him away. He hums thoughtfully as his fingers inch up to tangle in Sokka’s hair once more. “Spend the day in bed with me and I might call it even,” he murmurs. 

And spirits, that sounds like a fantastic deal, but -

“Nu-uh. No can do, Fire Lord,” Sokka replies, pulling away from Zuko’s tempting touches to sit up slightly, the crimson sheets pooling around his waist. Despite the fact that they both just got off only a few minutes ago, he doesn’t miss the way that Zuko’s eyes dart down his body, to his crotch, then back up to his face. He can’t help the smirk that settles on his lips in response. 

“As incredible as that sounds, I have a busy day planned for us,” Sokka insists even as Zuko begins to groan. “Hey!” he exclaims, swatting at Zuko’s side, “I never said that our plans didn’t consist of many orgasms later, but we do have somewhere to be this afternoon, and I really don’t want to be late because then it’ll throw my whole schedule off and -”

“Sokka,” Zuko cuts him off, “You promised no schedules. We’re on vacation.”

Sokka sighs, “I know, I know… But I swear that this isn’t a bad schedule! It’s a fun schedule! One that dictates that we be on time for lunch so that we can do all of the other fun, exciting things on our itinerary.”

Zuko fixes Sokka with a pleading look.

“There’s really no talking you out of this, is there?”

“Nope!” Sokka replies to Zuko’s thought chipperly. He smacks the firebender’s chest gently before he moves to climb out of bed. “Now come on, get up, we’ve got places to go, things to see -”

“Please tell me the Ember Island Players aren’t on this schedule,” Zuko says, even as he sits up, mimicking Sokka’s movements. 

Sokka goes uncharacteristically quiet at Zuko’s words. In fact, he says nothing, even as he gathers his clothing from the floor and begins pulling a shirt over his head. 

“Sokka,” Zuko says in response to the silence, “You didn’t.”

“I may have,” Sokka admits quietly. Zuko opens his mouth to argue, but he quickly cuts him off, crossing the room in a few long strides, “They’re not as bad as they used to be, and I thought it could be fun! Please don’t argue with me, because I didn’t factor an argument into our time here, and if we hurry we can still bathe together which might work out in your favor and -”

“You’re an idiot,” Zuko interrupts his rambling, but there’s a fondness in his voice that Sokka doesn’t miss. He can’t help but grin to himself, even as Zuko is insulting him. 

“I’m your idiot, darling,” he shoots back, which just earns another groan from the other man. 

“I need to find the spirit that decided that you and I would make a good match,” Zuko mutters, voice deadpan. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, and Sokka quickly drops down to his knees in front of him. They’d probably make an interesting sight, if one of Zuko’s guards were to walk in right now - Sokka, wearing nothing but a shirt, kneeling in front of a still-naked Fire Lord. 

“Why, so you can thank them personally?” Sokka teases back, a lopsided smile settling onto his face. 

And when Zuko meets his eyes again, the sight nearly takes his breath away. “Yeah,” he murmurs, reaching out to cradle Sokka’s face gently in his hands. His voice takes on this sticky sweet tone, and Sokka knows that it’s not what Zuko meant when he first made the teasing, off-hand comment, but he knows that he means this, when he looks into his eyes. “So I can thank them for bringing you to me.”


TWO MONTHS LATER

Zuko loves Ba Sing Se in the summer. There’s something so… magical about the city this time of the year. He tells himself that it’s not nostalgia or lingering fondness or memories of an awkward date with a girl he barely knew or those days working in the tea shop that make him miss it so much, but he knows he’d be lying. 

No, the city of Ba Sing Se might not be perfect - even fifteen years after the end of the war it isn’t - but that’s what he loves about it. Its imperfections. Its diversity. Its capacity for change and growth and evolution. Zuko looks at Ba Sing Se, and he sees a reflection of himself. It seems like just yesterday that he was hiding in the outer rings of the city with his uncle, serving tea to Earth Kingdom citizens, that he was making the decision to let Appa go free instead of capturing him, that he made one of the biggest mistakes of his life by deciding to side with his sister instead of the Avatar. 

It seems like just yesterday that Zuko sat outside of his uncle’s new tea shop, watching the sun rise with Sokka by his side, talking to him for the very first time about their bond. In reality, fifteen years have passed since then, and Zuko knows that he has grown immensely since then - they all have - but sometimes, he still feels like that same unsure sixteen year old when he looks into Sokka’s eyes. 

Zuko might be a citizen of the Fire Nation - he’s the Fire Lord, for fuck’s sake - but Ba Sing Se is where he really discovered himself, where he learned who he truly was and what he really wanted out of life, and it will always hold a special place in his heart. Which is why Zuko insists on spending a few days off in Ba Sing Se before heading to Republic City for the fifteenth anniversary celebration of the end of the war. Although he’d love to spend some additional time with Sokka, who is already in Republic City preparing for the event, he also cherishes the rare moments that he gets to spend time along with his uncle. They’re few and far between. 

Prior to his arrival in the city, Zuko gets in contact with Suki, who helps him enter the Ba Sing Se under the radar, so he can spend a few relaxing days with his uncle without alerting King Kuei or any other politicians who would jump at the opportunity to speak with the Fire Lord. Iroh, of course, welcomes Zuko into his home with open arms, and for a moment, it takes Zuko back in time. 

Ba Sing Se in the summer consists of cool mornings and pleasantly warm afternoons, late sunsets and clear nights. In the summer, the city comes alive at night as families come together to cook and drink and have fun. The streets are always full of vendors and street performers and playing children and excitement. Even in the upper ring, where his uncle’s tea shop is now located, the nobles and their families let loose a little in the summer. 

“I couldn’t see it before,” Zuko tells his uncle one evening, two days into his stay in the city as he helps to clean a few teacups behind the counter of the Jasmine Dragon. If any of his uncle’s patrons have noticed that the Fire Lord is in their presence, dressed down in muted colors and clearly missing his crown, they haven’t said a single word about it. “But I think I finally understand the appeal of the city - why you decided to stay here.”

Iroh has told Zuko countless times. He explained it in great detail when he first made the decision to remain in Ba Sing Se, when a sixteen-year-old Zuko asked why he didn’t want to come home to his family, his people, after the war was over. 

“There is so much pain in that palace, nephew,” he had expressed, “Pain that I cannot erase or undo, but that you may be able mend. I love you dearly and I will always be here for you when you need me, but I don’t belong there, anymore. It’s time I settle down and start over.” 

Zuko had been frustrated and confused back then. He had felt that his uncle forced his hand, forced him to run an entire nation by himself, but he understands now, at thirty-one years old, why his uncle didn’t want to return to the Fire Nation. 

The sheer beauty of Ba Sing Se probably just made his decision even easier. 

Iroh offers him a warm smile in return. “You’ve grown wise in your old age, nephew,” he responds, and just as Zuko begins to sputter something indignant out in response, he simply lays warm hands on Zuko’s shoulders, pushing him gently around the corner, “You should take the rest of the evening off. Enjoy your time in the city. Surely your friends will be happy to see you.”

“Uncle,” Zuko protests, “My friends are all in Republic City. You know, where we’re going in a few days? It’s fine, I’d rather spend time with you.”

Iroh hums thoughtfully, but he continues to usher Zuko towards the front of the shop, ignoring the looks of his last few lingering customers as he goes. “It’s a beautiful evening, you shouldn’t waste it cooped up inside,” he insists, plucking the cup from Zuko’s hands. He opens the front door and all but pushes his nephew outside, “Go for a walk. Enjoy your time here. I can close up by myself, then maybe, we can have supper together later.”

“But uncle -” Zuko starts to argue, but Iroh is having none of it. He shoos Zuko out the front door before closing it right in his face. 

For a moment, Zuko considers storming back into the shop and demanding to know what this is all about. Iroh knows that all of Zuko’s friends, save for Suki and the Kyoshi Warriors, are already in Republic City, preparing for the festival and celebration, so why is he so dead-set on this?

He knows that it’s pointless, though. If he and his uncle are similar in any way, it’s their stubbornness. It’s why they butted heads so much when Zuko was an angry teenager and his uncle was trying to steer him on the right path. It’s why sometimes, even at thirty years old, Zuko will storm out of the room after a particularly frustrating conversation with him, only to immediately apologize ten minutes later. So rather than picking an unnecessary fight with his beloved, stubborn uncle, Zuko sighs, turns, and attempts to see what he sees.

From the front doors of the Jasmine Dragon, Zuko can see much of the city. The location of the tea shop is no accident, as it sits on top of a hill in the upper ring, with a perfect view of the beautiful city around it. 

Right now, that view is accented by the dying summer sunlight. At golden hour, the city seems to absolutely glow, and the sight alone warms Zuko’s bones. He’s sure that also has something to do with the angle of the sun in the sky, but he likes to think that it’s the magic of Ba Sing Se. 

And okay, maybe his uncle was right. He shouldn’t waste his time here cooped up inside. 

Pulling off his apron and draping it over his arm, Zuko takes a few steps forward, taking in the stunning view of the city. Although it’s nearing sunset rather than sunrise, the sight still reminds Zuko of one morning, nearly fifteen years ago, that he sat in this very spot with Sokka, when they first talked about their bond. It’s wild to think of how much has changed since then, not only in Ba Sing Se, but between him and Sokka, too. 

Sokka, who he can’t wait to see again in a few days, after a few months apart. They try not to go too long without seeing each other, but sometimes, it’s difficult, with Sokka serving as the head of Republic City’s council and Zuko literally running an entire nation. Zuko considered inviting Sokka to meet him in Ba Sing Se before the festival, but he knows that it won’t kill them to wait a few more days. Besides, he arranged to stay a few weeks in Republic City under the guise of attending a few council meetings. They’ll have plenty of time to spend with one another, and Zuko can’t wait to see him. To hold him. To touch and kiss him and -

He doesn’t fully finish that thought, because before he can, another one cuts through his mind, unexpected and surprising, but certainly not unwelcome. 

“And you call me the hopeless romantic.”

Zuko freezes, his eyes going wide at the sound of that voice in his head, before he comes to his senses and spins quickly on his heel. 

And there, leaning up against the corner of the tea shop is none other than the man himself, a sly smile spread across his face. He almost doesn’t even look real, with the way that the dying sun paints him in golden light, and the sight takes the breath from Zuko’s lungs. 

Zuko has so many questions (How did Sokka know he was going to be here? Why didn’t he write to tell him he was coming? How long has he been standing there?) but instead of asking any of them, Zuko, dumbfounded, just breathes, “Sokka -”

The smile only widens and as casually as possible, Sokka asks, “Surprised to see me?” 

Zuko doesn’t even dignify his question with an answer. Instead, he wordlessly closes the gap between them in a few long strides before meeting his boyfriend for a long awaited kiss. Sokka expects it - of course he does, he can hear Zuko’s thoughts, after all - and meets him with gentle hands that cradle the back of his head as he smiles into the kiss. 

When they eventually part, Zuko finally asks, “Aren’t you supposed to be in Republic City? How did you -”

“Katara’s covering for me,” Sokka responds smoothly. His hands don’t leave Zuko’s body quite yet, and his thumb dances over Zuko’s cheek as he cradles his face, obviously admiring the way that Zuko has tied his hair up in a neat bun. “They’ll survive without me for a couple of days.”

Zuko snorts out a small laugh in response. His hand encircles Sokka’s wrist, holding him in place. It feels good to touch him. It grounds him in a way that he hasn’t felt in months. “How’d you manage that?”

Sokka offers a sheepish smile in return. “I may or may not be on babysitting duty for a few weeks…”

With a roll of his eyes, Zuko steps forward once more, his free hand snaking around Sokka’s waist to pull him closer. “What will the city do without you?” he asks teasingly. 

“Burn down, probably,” Sokka answers, deadpan. It earns a raised eyebrow from Zuko, prompting him to clarify, “Kidding. Obviously.”

Then, they’re kissing again, Zuko pressing Sokka gently against the wall of his uncle’s tea shop. Fifteen years ago, Zuko never would have been able to imagine this - Sokka, arching into the kiss, their hands on each other, the warm summer air on their skin - but it makes so much sense, now. 

The second kiss lingers a little bit longer than the first, which leaves Zuko mumbling against Sokka’s lips when they do part. “So… what was so important that you couldn’t wait a few days to see me?”

Sokka just scoffs in response. “Is it a crime to want to spend some quality time with my boyfriend in a beautiful city?”

It’s a non-answer, which isn’t uncommon with Sokka, especially when he’s flirting like this, so Zuko thinks nothing of it. He’s sure that his uncle had some hand in this, and he reminds himself to thank him later, even as he detaches himself slightly from the other man. 

“Well, you’re in luck,” he retorts, “My boss just cut me for the night.”

Sokka hums in response, a lazy smile finding its way onto his lips. “In that case, how do you feel about a romantic stroll, darling?”

After Zuko steps back into the shop to drop his apron off at the counter and quietly thank his uncle (who just smiles knowingly at him) Zuko gladly takes Sokka’s arm, leading him down the hill and towards the heart of the city. With the sun slowly dropping further and further in the horizon, Zuko knows that not many shops or vendors will still be open, but that doesn’t matter. The only thing that really matters is the handsome man on his arm. 

As they walk through the streets of the Upper Ring, Sokka chats excitedly about his life in Republic City. Even though it has only been a couple of months since they last saw each other, he has plenty of stories to tell, and Zuko is more than happy to listen. In fact, he loves to hear Sokka talk about the things that excite him - like the new city building that they just approved construction on, or the beautiful home that Aang and Katara have built on Air Temple Island, or how excited Aang is to host the festival and celebration in Republic City because it truly is a melting pot of all four nations as well as non-benders. Zuko offers a few hums and head nods and laughs while Sokka tells him of how big Kya and Bumi have gotten and how his nephew is quickly taking after him and it’s driving his sister mad.  

“I just can’t believe that he’s already five years old,” Sokka says wistfully as they walk together through the city streets. 

Zuko hums in agreement. “I can’t believe it has already been fifteen years.”

“Same here,” Sokka replies with a smile. 

Then, silently, he adds, “It seems like only yesterday that I was kicking your ass at swordbending in the Western Air Temple.”

Zuko abruptly stops walking, his eyes going wide at Sokka’s unsaid words. “You kicking my ass?” he argues, “That’s not how I remember it.”

Sokka’s grin just widens as he teases, “Maybe your memory is just starting to go, old man.”

“I’m only one year older than you!” Zuko all but exclaims, earning a few glances from some shopkeepers and strangers on the street. Quieter, he adds, “And why does everyone keep calling me an old man? Am I missing something here?”

At that, Sokka erupts into laughter, nearly doubling over with it. Zuko, unamused, crosses his arms while he waits for the other man to wear himself out. 

“Sorry,” Sokka wheezes, wiping a tear from his eye as he calms himself down, “It’s just - sometimes, you still act like the same hot-headed asshole I first met in the South Pole. It’s amazing. Oh! Say something about your honor -”

“Sokka -”

“I’m sorry,” Sokka repeats, taking a few steps forward to close the gap between them, reaching out for Zuko’s hands, “I’m kidding. I love it - I promise. I love it.”

Zuko, unconvinced, doesn’t fully cave quite yet, not until Sokka’s voice goes a little softer as he continues, “I love you, you idiot,” he leans forward, pressing a kiss to Zuko’s lips, chuckling softly against him, “Even if you are still a hot-head.”

Zuko just groans in response, but his body gives him away, melting under Sokka’s touch.

The other man, uncaring about their public display of affection, rubs his hands up and down Zuko’s exposed arms. “I’m really excited to celebrate with you,” he murmurs, attempting to change the subject. “Everyone is really excited to see you, too. Toph, especially.”

As they resume walking down the street, the buildings casting long shadows in front of them, Zuko replies, “I am not drinking this year.” The mention of Toph has his mind wandering back to last year’s celebration in the Fire Nation, when the earthbender had made some stupid bet that nobody could out-drink her. Sokka had encouraged Zuko to accept said challenge (“Kick her ass, baby, I’ll hold your crown!”) and Zuko had consequently spent the entire next day in bed. 

Sokka snorts in response, swinging their arms between them, their hands linked together. “Learned your lesson last year?”

“Last year, I spent half of the night getting sick behind the banquet hall,” Zuko grumbles. He still can’t stand the taste of fire whiskey. 

“Yeah you did, you party animal, you,” Sokka teases, bumping Zuko’s hip slightly as they walk. 

Zuko glances at him, opening his mouth to argue, to tease him about one of his many embarrassing nights of drinking - like maybe the time he drunkenly stumbled into the head of education’s quarters instead of Zuko’s, mumbling filthy nonsense, or maybe the time that he passed out on the beach after an afternoon of day-drinking with Toph and spent an entire week nursing a terrible sunburn - but just as he turns to Sokka, all of his thoughts go out the window. The dying summer sunlight sneaks through an opening between two buildings, painting the city street around them in golds and oranges and yellows, Sokka included, and it takes Zuko’s breath away. He has always looked stunning in Fire Nation reds, and the warm sunlight does something similar to his skin, as well. It reminds Zuko of the time that he and Sokka sparred together on Ember Island around sunset when they were just kids, before he really knew how he felt about him. It reminds him of sitting outside of his uncle’s tea shop at sunrise. It reminds him of the countless sunsets that he and Sokka have spent together in the Fire Nation capital, the frigid South Pole, Earth Kingdom streets and even on rooftops in Republic City. It reminds him of the way that the sunlight paints stripes across Sokka’s skin in the morning as it filters in through the window, just before the world wakes up. 

Sokka, oblivious to all of this, apparently, just grins at Zuko, seemingly ignoring the dumbfounded expression on his face and the barrage of disgustingly romantic thoughts in his head and says, “Come on. A couple of drinks. We have so much to celebrate this year, and I’m not about to let you miss out on the fun.”

Zuko’s not sure how, but he manages to regain his composure enough to ask, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Sokka pauses for a moment, clearly thinking, but Zuko can’t definitively hear what’s on his mind. Ten years into their relationship, and sometimes the other man is still a complete mystery to him. With a small smile, he waits for Sokka’s response, before the other man hums thoughtfully and says, “Well, there are the obvious things like fifteen years of peace.” He grins and adds, “You know, fifteen years of having the hottest Fire Lord the world has ever known. I think that’s worth celebrating -”

“Sokka -”  

“And Bumi just turned five!” Sokka adds before Zuko can fully interrupt, “I know I already mentioned that, but still ... Oh, and Toph just opened another metalbending academy near the city, which is exciting! Hmm… What else?”

Zuko’s smile grows a little bit as they walk, watching Sokka look thoughtfully up at the sky as he tries to come up with more reasons why Zuko should let loose. Even now, as a grown adult, Sokka is still so similar to the young man that he first fell in love with. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that he’s a genius strategist, that he’s head councilman of Republic City, that he’s in charge of making all of the important decisions in one of the fastest growing cities in the world. But Zuko knows Sokka inside and out, and he loves both the dorky, carefree side of him just as much as he loves the skilled tactician and fierce warrior that he grew up to become. 

Just as Zuko’s about to interrupt Sokka’s rambling to concede, to tell him that fine, he’ll have a couple of drinks and have some fun with his friends, a simple, concise thought interrupts him. 

“Fuck it.”

It’s blunt and abrupt, catching Zuko off guard, but as Zuko turns to ask him what’s wrong, he’s speaking again. 

“Oh! I got it!” he exclaims suddenly, a smile spreading across his face. “We’re going to have an engagement to celebrate!”

“Engagement?” Zuko asks, his brow furrowing in confusion, “Who got engaged?”

In retrospect, Zuko should have seen it coming. Time slows down when Sokka stops walking, effectively pulling him to a stop, and deep down, Zuko knows what he’s about to say. He can hear the words in his head before he says them, but Zuko doesn’t even need to hear his thoughts to know.

He just… does.

Slowly, Sokka reaches into his pocket, and when his hand appears again, it’s clutching a small, thin blue cloth band. He opens his palm to reveal a necklace, adorned with a simple, carved whale bone pendant. 

His words are simple (and actually quite comical, looking back on it) but they pull the breath from Zuko’s lungs. 

“Uh… us?”  

Zuko is… speechless. To be honest, he sees it coming, can hear the whispering of Sokka’s thoughts just before he pulls the betrothal necklace from his pocket, but the sight of it, coupled with Sokka’s words leave Zuko dumbfounded. His mind goes blank. He searches for the right words to say, but they won’t come. He doesn’t even know where to start. 

So Sokka does what he does best. He starts talking. 

“I uh - I mean, this isn’t really how I planned on asking,” he starts, “I had this whole plan after the festival, and spirits, I bet Toph is going to be so pissed that it went down like this. Fuck, I don’t really know if this is even the proper way to do it, in the Fire Nation, I mean, I don’t think any other Fire Lords have ever actually been proposed to, but -”

“Sokka,” Zuko starts, taking a step forward, but the other man just continues. 

“I love you, okay? I really fucking love you, Zuko, and not just because the spirits said so or because I can hear your thoughts - which are really quiet right now, which is kind of unsettling and -”

“Sokka stop -” Zuko reaches out, grabbing his wrist, eyes locked on the elegant necklace in his hand. He can’t help but picture it around his neck, how the blue and white would contrast against gold and red and black. It’s perfect.

“I mean, I know it’s not really conventional, and I’m sure people will talk - oh man, I can just imagine what your council will say - but I really want to marry you, so -”

“Sokka, please stop talking,” Zuko thinks pointedly, and finally, that seems to do the trick. Sokka cuts himself short, mouth open, eyes wide. He stares at Zuko, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, so Zuko takes a deep breath and tries to gather his thoughts.

He wants to choose his words carefully, wants to say the right thing here, but the only thing he can think to mutter is, “You really want to marry me.”

It’s not really a question, but it’s not a statement, either. He just - well, he doesn’t really fully believe it. Even though he and Sokka have been together for nearly a decade, even though Sokka is his soulmate, even though the man is literally standing in front of him, holding a betrothal necklace, he can’t believe it. He can’t believe he got lucky enough to end up with someone like Sokka - that someone like Sokka wants to fucking marry him.

Every time he has let himself imagine this moment, he always pictured himself presenting Sokka with his own crown - a silver headpiece, shaped into a flame, a perfect replica of his own, but crafted to honor Sokka’s heritage. He never imagined that Sokka would be the one to -

“I mean, I thought the betrothal necklace made that pretty clear, but yeah,” Sokka says, cutting Zuko’s thoughts short. He looks down at the necklace in his hand, then back at Zuko. “Although, now that I think about it, is it too girly? I don’t -”

“It’s perfect,” Zuko interrupts before Sokka can begin rambling again. He takes a step forward, placing his hand over Sokka’s - over the necklace.  “You’re perfect. I love you, Sokka. I love you so much.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Sokka breathes. 

Then, they’re kissing. Zuko pulls Sokka close and kisses him in the middle of the street, shopkeepers and strangers be damned. Sokka practically melts into the kiss, going boneless beneath Zuko’s touch, and Zuko revels in the fact that he can still do this. Ten years into their relationship, he can still make Sokka fall apart in his hands. And better yet, Sokka can still take him by surprise. 

Agni, he loves this man. 

When they part, it’s only by a few inches, just enough to breathe, to center themselves. Sokka presses his forehead against Zuko’s and asks, breathless, “So does this mean you -”

“What do you think?” Zuko retorts, a smile spreading across his face, “You can hear my thoughts.”

Sokka pulls back, just barely, far enough to look Zuko in the eyes and replies with a grin, “Yeah, I know, but I kinda want to hear you say it out loud.”

Zuko can’t help but huff out a laugh in response. He knows that his thoughts must be loud right now, that Sokka can probably hear everything he’s thinking - like how he can’t wait to tell uncle, how he is dying to get Sokka home so he can kiss him, so he can touch him properly, how stunning Sokka is going to look on their wedding day, how he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with someone as brilliant and caring and brave as him - but he humors him. He doesn’t say it all out loud, but he says the bit that matters, at least right now. He can whisper sweet nothings to him all night, anyway. 

“Yes,” Zuko murmurs, meeting Sokka’s eager blue eyes just as the sun dips behind the horizon, casting a beautiful pinkish-purple glow across the city streets. “Yes, I’ll marry you, you idiot.”

Notes:

God. Thank you all again for reading this and all of your lovely comments. This is my first fic for this ship/fandom, and it definitely won't be my last.

I'm working on another long/slow burn/angsty as hell fic that I'll hopefully start publishing sometime soon, but in the meantime, I'm sure I'll be sharing some short one-shots too! Come say hey on Tumblr in the meantime.