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Sokka was stirred awake when he felt a sudden kick against his hip. It hardly hurt, but it was enough for him to know that something was wrong the moment that he woke.
His eyes soon opened, and in a flash, he realized that the rise of the sun was soon. Not very soon, but still imminent, within the hour. It’s the violet hues of the typically-black sky that clued him in. It’s far earlier than he usually wakes, but he would never turn down a chance to witness a Fire Nation sunrise. They were some of the most beautiful in the world, he had learned, but seeing them meant waking earlier than he preferred.
He rubbed at his eyes, and he turned his attention to the room itself. It is free of strangers, so it was no assassination attempt that woke him. Thank Agni for that. The room was silent, save for the soft wind he heard from the cracked window of their shared bedroom.
Yes. The shared bedroom. The one he shared with the Fire Lord himself, his boyfriend, Zuko.
Zuko was still asleep, his back to Sokka, and the only indication of sleep was the low rise and fall of his chest. He was lax in sleep, hardly shifting back and forth. But Sokka knew that it was a temporary state. The kick to his hip was from Zuko.
It was the beginning of a nightmare. Sokka knew the signs, and while sudden kicks were a pretty rare sign, he still knew, deep in the pit of his stomach, that something was wrong. He wanted to be there if things took a turn for the worst.
Sokka settled down next to Zuko. He moved his arm around his shoulders and rubbed at the wrist that laid across his stomach, his fingers gentle on his skin. It would not stop the nightmare from happening, but Zuko would know that Sokka was there for him the moment he woke. It would help. He knew it would.
It was often that Zuko’s sleep was disturbed by nightmares. He had hardly been given a chance to process everything he had gone through when he was younger until Ozai was defeated. Once he became Fire Lord and the Fire Nation’s initial troubles were dealt with, Zuko had time to think about what made him into who he was.
Sokka had stayed by his side on many sleepless nights, listening to him mumble about in his exhaustion. He mentioned his scar. He mentioned the crippling self-doubt that he kept inside of him. He mentioned his father. “He never loved me,” he would whisper, over and over again until he finally slept. Sokka never moved, not an inch, until his best friend—and later his boyfriend—was asleep. Sometimes the sun was nearly rising, and he only got an hour before he woke up to act as Fire Lord. Sokka was always subtle with his encouragement to naps in between his meetings to keep him from collapsing or falling ill.
There wasn’t a thing that Sokka wouldn’t do for Zuko. Walking to the edge of the world was nothing if it meant that Zuko was happy, that he was content with his life.
Laying in that bed, he watched as Zuko rolled over to his back, his arms twitching from his nightmare. Sokka hardly wanted to think about what would cause him, usually still in sleep, to move about in such a way. He wished that it were nothing, but neither were that lucky.
It didn’t take long for the opportunity to come for him to find out. Zuko suddenly went eerily still, and in a flash, his eyes were open, and he was awake. He gasped out, and he immediately shut his eyes again, his brow furrowed. He was shaking in a flash, and his breaths came out too rushed, too short to calm him. It was bad, whatever nightmare it was.
Sokka’s hand hovered over his wrist the moment he was awake. “Do you want me to keep touching you?” he asked quietly.
He was relieved when Zuko nodded, his eyes opening and his head rolling to look at him. His eyes were filled with tears. “Please.” His voice was heart-shattering, shaky with fear and remaining anxiety.
Sokka moved to grab Zuko’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He didn’t speak; his words felt too loud, and they would hardly reach Zuko in his state. His touch would help ground him, help him feel safe, and his words would better benefit him in the minutes after.
They sat in silence for what felt like a century. Sokka watched in silent worry as Zuko calmed himself, and before long, he stared at their ceiling. He still looked as though he were going to cry, but he refused to let the tears fall. Sokka knew that they would eventually, but he wouldn’t hurry it.
“You should tell me about it,” Sokka suggested. “It’s good to get it off your chest.”
Zuko frowned deeper at the ceiling. “Does it not get old? Hearing me whimper about what’s bothering me?”
“No. I’d listen to you a thousand times over if it made your nights easier.”
“…Things should be better, shouldn’t they?”
“Maybe. But some things aren’t easy to deal with. Not on your own. No one is undeserving of a push in the right direction.”
Zuko’s head rolled to the side, and he looked at Sokka. His frown faded, and he nodded.
They sat up in their bed after that. Both of them moved to wrap the single comforter around their shoulders, enveloped in the warmth and familiarity of it. Sokka kept a hold on Zuko’s hand, refusing to let it go, not even for a second.
There was a long beat of silence before Zuko took a steadying breath and looked Sokka in the eye. “Why are you with me?”
Oh.
Sokka didn’t expect that. He expected something about Ozai, something about the scar he received. He had even heard about dreams of Azula, long before she started to show improvement in her health, killing him and killing their friends.
But Zuko had never doubted his relationship with Sokka. Not once. Not aloud.
It was still on the newer side—only seven months and two weeks in, but who was counting?—but the feelings that Sokka felt for Zuko were more genuine than anything he had ever felt. He felt as though he could tell Zuko anything, and he knew that he would listen with an open heart and a hand to hold. The nights that they laid together, and Sokka expressed doubt at one day being a Chief or even being an ambassador, and Zuko kissed his forehead and assured him that he was capable of anything. Sokka felt more sure of who he was, and who he could be, with Zuko by his side. He felt as though he were in love with him. No doubt in his mind.
What did Zuko really think?
Sokka tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you with me?” Zuko repeated, a little louder. “Why do you put up with me? Why would you ever date someone like me when you should have… Agni, the grandest gifts? The most outward displays of affection, someone smarter and more capable of giving you the life you deserve?”
Zuko’s hands were still shaking, but they trembled harder as he spoke. Sokka’s thumb across his wrist did nothing to soothe him. Not in the slightest. “I have never wanted something more in my life, and it just… it feels like I can’t give you what you deserve. What if it hits you one day, and you leave?” His jaw shuddered as he let out a soft whimper in an attempt not to sob. Chills ran down Sokka’s spine, even in the warmth of their room. That had to have been the nightmare… Sokka leaving. His heart ached.
“You deserve the world, Sokka,” he whispered. The first of his tears fell, dripping down from his chin onto his lap. “What can I give you that’s even half as good as that?”
Sokka bit his lip in thought. This… This was uncharted territory. He wasn’t the best with relationship advice; in his younger days, he could mask his uncertainty with fake confidence and the charm that only his younger self had. (And damn, if he did not miss that younger man sometimes.) But as an adult, as a man in his mid-twenties, he could not hide it. What if what he said made Zuko feel worse? What if he felt more alone, more afraid, than he already did? What if Sokka could not give him the confidence in their relationship that he had?
He had to try. He would not let Zuko down. He couldn’t.
Sokka thought about the truth of the matter. What was the most honest that he could be?
With that in mind, he spoke, his voice shattering the tense silence between them.
“You can’t give me what I already have,” he started.
The Fire Lord glanced up at him, his eyebrow furrowed. “What?”
“Zuko, baby… What am I holding right now?”
Zuko looked down. His tear-filled eyes flashed in temporary confusion. “…My hands?” he offered.
A soft chuckle rang through the air. “Yes, but…” Sokka squeezed his hands, frowning at their continuous shaking. Zuko looked up at him. “In my hands, I hold the entire world. I hold you.”
There was a quiet gasp. The gears in his mind were turning, and then it hit Zuko what he meant. His shoulders moved to tremble, and his eyes fell closed. “You don’t mean that—”
“I do.” Sokka squeezed his hands, desperate to know that he was listening, that he was hearing him. “Zuko, please. I mean every word.”
Zuko’s eyes opened, and Sokka smiled at the sight. “You could offer me the best clothes, the best bed. You could give me all the money in the world, you could promise me a life of luxury where I would be content and happy and never stress a day in my life.” His eyebrows furrowed. “But it would never be enough for me. None of that stuff. You know why?”
Zuko sniffed. It was evident that he wasn’t going to answer with words. Sokka hardly expected him to.
“It wouldn’t be enough because I have you. Right now, I have you. I have the world because you’re it.”
Sokka could feel his shoulders shaking. But he pressed on. It had to be spoken. It would be real if both of them heard it, right?
“You’re one of the most important people in my life, Zuko. I feel like I can do anything with you by my side. I’ve seen the good in your heart, and it makes me love you more and more every day.” Sokka reached up a shaking hand and wiped the tears that had fallen from Zuko’s eyes. His hand rested on his cheek, and Zuko finally gave him a soft smile. “I love you. Please know that. I’m not going anywhere so long that I can help it.”
Zuko lifted his hand and touched the hand on his cheek, his eyes falling closed. Tears still fell, and he looked exhausted, but he was no longer worried. No longer did his nightmare convince him of things that were untrue.
“I love you too,” he whispered. Sokka’s heart swelled.
The silence was comfortable then. Sokka slid forward and wrapped his arm around Zuko’s back, pulling him into a gentle hug. Zuko returned it nearly immediately, resting his forehead in the crook of Sokka’s neck. Sokka laid back on their bed, taking the comforter with them, and he and Zuko rested against their pillows in continued silence.
Sokka looked over and saw that the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon. It was when Zuko would normally be waking. Sokka was almost relieved that Zuko hadn’t lost too much sleep.
Sokka moved a hand up and down his back and kissed his hair. “It’s morning.”
Zuko hummed against his shoulder. “I don’t want to get up yet.”
“No worries.” Sokka closed his eyes, basking in the faint light in their bedroom. “We can lay here a while. We’ll get some tea before we get breakfast, then we can get through today together. We can feed the turtleducks after breakfast. How does that sound?”
There was a deep sigh, and Zuko melted further into Sokka’s gentle hold. Sokka found himself smiling even more than before.
Was there anything he wouldn’t do for Zuko? No.