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Sokka’s day starts out simple enough. He wakes up slowly, surrounded by the warmth of his bed. Wait—and Zuko. His bed and Zuko, who has wrapped all four of his bony limbs around Sokka like a very determined pentapus. Sokka huffs out a laugh, squinting against the sun filtering through the sliver of window left uncovered by the thick red curtains. Of course, it’s just Sokka’s luck that the one slice of sunlight that shines through the window falls right on his face.
Sokka rolls to the other side, putting his back to the window. Zuko rolls with him. His head burrows deeper into Sokka’s chest, and the sight is so adorable he can’t even find it in himself to be irritated by the sharp poke of Zuko’s nose in his ribcage. He lays in that position for a while, burying his face in his partner’s hair and taking in his surroundings. Outside, messenger hawks and raven-eagles caw, the sound cutting through the morning air. The sun is warming a small strip on Sokka’s back, making him feel drowsy despite only just waking up. His bare skin just barely sticks to Zuko’s, and the air is just cool enough to not be uncomfortable. Zuko’s hair smells like cinnamon and campfire smoke, a combination that Sokka has grown to associate with home—well, his second home. His home will always be with the Southern Water Tribe, but he has a different kind of home here with Zuko.
The Southern Water Tribe is where Sokka grew up. He could point to any mound of ice and tell a story about what he did there as a child, how it’s changed, and whether or not it’s a good penguin sledding hill. He knows every single person’s name, knows their parents and their grandparents and knows the stories about how their uncle spotted a mermaid while ice dodging—it’s true, they swear! Every dish has a story that Sokka knows in and out, and he goes hunting and sailing with his friends and father whenever he can. He’s next in line to be Chief in a decade or so, and is ready to carry the title with the same pride and love he holds for his people. But here, with Zuko...it’s different.
Here, he is learning all the names of the staff who deliver him breakfast and pour him tea. He has a wardrobe full of clothes that Zuko commissioned to incorporate Water Tribe aspects without making them stifling in the Fire Nation heat. Sokka has his own office, with a sturdy desk made of dark wood stocked with expensive ink and brushes and smooth paper that he sends back to the Southern Water Tribe via messenger hawk weekly (How the hawks don’t drop dead from exertion, Sokka doesn’t know. He felt bad about making them fly so far, but Zuko reassured him that they make frequent pit stops on any passing Fire Nation trade ships they come across). The chefs are learning about dishes from home, and while their first attempts at preparing sea prunes made Sokka die a little inside, they’ve been getting better and are always so pleased when Sokka remarks that it reminds him of food he ate as a child. Here has Zuko, his partner of nearly three years, who he loves with his entire being.
Unfortunately, said love of his life is currently cutting off the circulation to Sokka’s left arm. He tries waking Zuko up by gently patting his face, then his arm. When that doesn’t work, he clears his throat and whispers, “Zuko,” which earns him an irritated chuff and a warm hand smacking him in the face.
“Zuko, darling, I need you to move,” Sokka murmurs.
“No,” Zuko grumbles back. He tightens his hold on Sokka, which Sokka didn’t think was possible.
“Aren’t firebenders supposed to rise with the sun and all that? Sun is most definitely risen, hon.”
“Hibernating.” Zuko replies, muffled by the fact that his face is very much pressed against Sokka’s skin. “Also, you know exactly why I’m tired, dickhead. Don’t act like this isn’t your fault.”
“Aw, did I wear you out?” Sokka teases, only to be answered with a soft smack to the cheek from a warm palm. “Okay, okay, sorry. I do need you to move though, I can’t feel my arm and I really need to pee.” With minimal grumbling, Zuko de-attaches himself from Sokka, who is finally able to make it to the bathroom.
When he exits the bathroom, Sokka sees Zuko already wearing his more casual Fire Nation regalia (as casual as he can allow himself to look, at least, which is not very) and trying and failing to put his hair in a top knot. Sokka honestly doesn’t know how Zuko does his hair in the months he returns home, and he tells him as much.
“I don’t,” he answers. “Staff have to help. You know, they really like you, Sokka. Say you 'keep me alive and in line,’ which I didn’t realize was an issue.”
“Sweetheart, without me you would be drowning in paperwork with ten back-to-back meetings a day,” Sokka replies truthfully. The first few months of Zuko being Firelord were rough, to put it lightly. He was going to at least eight meetings a day, dealing with stacks of paper that were half a foot tall on a good day, and sleeping approximately never. It took an intervention involving everyone—their small family that had, thank Tui, stuck together after the war— stepping in and forcing Zuko to just stop for a few hours, which caused him to have a breakdown about all the work he was missing. Sokka shudders just remembering it.
“Maybe so, but at—wait.” Zuko suddenly tenses in his seat in front of the vanity. “Shit.”
“What?” Sokka asks, quickly finishing Zuko’s hair. He loves his hair so much, the long, silky black strands that slip through his fingers so nicely.
“I have a meeting in ten minutes,” Zuko is already up and moving, grabbing a formal robe from the wardrobe to throw over his casual attire in an attempt to look more put-together, “with General Xian.” The way Zuko says the name makes Sokka remember a few nights ago, when Zuko was nearly pulling his hair out trying to figure out the old councilman’s proposal for colony funding. Needless to say, there’s nothing to understand, other than that the man wants to leave them with virtually nothing.
“Shit,” Sokka repeats. “Good luck!”
Zuko hums out a quick thanks as he kisses Sokka goodbye, running out the door in the blink of an eye.
Well, it’s time for breakfast, Sokka supposes. He gets dressed in the thin, flowy clothes of the Fire Nation that are dyed a deep blue, with white trim and a triangular cut typical of Water Tribe outfits. He quickly runs the hastily discarded brush through his thick hair and pulls it into a wolf tail. He needs to touch up the sides, he notes, his undercut is growing out.
Sokka pulls on his shoes and makes his way to the kitchen, boomerang tucked into its holster on his hip as usual. He greets the cooks and staff, who are by now used to his sporadic presence in the kitchen and greet him respectfully.
“Lord Sokka! Would you like some eggs?” Chef Hikaru, a severe-looking woman who Sokka has grown familiar with, calls to him.
“If it’s not too much trouble,” he answers.
“It’s never trouble for you!” she responds, already cracking two eggs in a pan and sprinkling some seasoning on them. Sokka grabs a plump blue fruit and bites into it as he perches on a wooden stool, hopefully out of the way of the staff rushing around.
A few minutes pass and Hikaru is sliding a plate with two eggs and a warm roll in front of him.
“Here you go, Lord Sokka! Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, tha—actually, do you think you could pull together a simple cold lunch for this afternoon?” Sokka asks, “Zuko’s been cooped up for days and I was planning on trying to coax him out into the garden for a while, one he gets out of his meeting.”
Hikaru grins, “Of course! I’ll put it together in, what, an hour?” She looks at Sokka, who nods in confirmation, “Okay, so whenever you see fit, come back down and pick it up! I’ll even put it in a nice lil’ basket for you.”
“Thank you, Hikaru! I know I can always count on you!” Sokka cheers, “How’s your sister, by the way? Did she have the twins yet?”
“Yes, just a few days ago! Two healthy baby girls, blessed by Agni, I can just tell,” Hikaru smiles, “Well, sometimes she doesn’t feel all too blessed, but her and that husband of hers are managing alright.”
“I’m glad to hear that!” Sokka replies, genuinely happy about the news. He remembers how excited the older woman was to meet her nieces. “I’m gonna skedaddle, thank you for your help!”
Sokka meanders back to his bedroom, exchanging pleasantries with staff he comes across as he goes. He, as always, keeps an eye out for any unfamiliar faces. The attempts on Zuko’s life have decreased in the past few months, but one can never be too careful. When he arrives at his room, Sokka nods in greeting to the two guards stationed in the hallway. He pushes open the door and quickly gathers a few blankets, a miniature Pai Sho table, and a more comfortable outer robe, should Zuko want to switch them out instead of just taking it off completely. He leaves the living area, nodding again to the vigilant guards.
It is very difficult, Sokka learns, to navigate a royal palace when you can’t even see in front of you. Eventually, a staff not already occupied with any urgent tasks approaches him.
“Master Sokka, can I offer any assistance?” Someone with a smooth, cool voice stops him a few feet before a staircase. He can’t even see them over the pile of stuff cradled in his arms.
“Yes, actually,” Sokka answers after a moment of deliberation, “Would you mind grabbing the blanket for me?” The heavy blanket is quickly taken out of his grasp. Sokka can finally see the person who came to his rescue. He knew their name, once upon a time, but they have since changed it and Sokka hasn’t had an opportunity to catch up with them.
“I’m sorry, I’d like to thank you, but your name is completely slipping my mind,” Sokka says. He doesn’t want to outright say ‘Hey all I know is your deadname, help a guy out here,’ and hopes that the palace staff won’t revert back to the name that doesn’t suit them for Sokka’s own comfort.
“Oh! Kaya, my lord. You’re too kind.” Sokka smiles in acknowledgement and adjusts the remaining items in his arms.
“Thank you, Kaya, for your help. Would you mind helping me take that blanket to the garden?”
Kaya and Sokka make their way to the garden, Sokka detailing his plan to trick Zuko into relaxing for once in his life. He even manages to weasel a laugh out of Kaya, which, based on their stoic demeanor, is no small feat. When the duo arrive in the garden, they set up the blanket a few feet from the turtleduck pond. Sokka thanks Kaya again, who looks uncomfortable with the gratitude.
“It’s my job, Lord Sokka, but you're welcome.” They quickly scurry off, probably to help Chef Hikaru and the other kitchen staff deal with the lunch rush. Sokka checks the time, noting that the shadow on the sundial is still a good few degrees away from the time he was told to get the basket of food. Sokka pulls out the book he’s been reading this past week and buries himself in the crisp pages.
The next time he looks up, more time has passed than he thought. Sokka quickly marks his page and hurries down to the kitchen. Hikaru has clearly been waiting for him, which makes Sokka feel a little guilty.
“Ah, there you are!” she exclaims, “I made sandwiches, cut up some fruit—oh! Here!” A woven basket is shoved into Sokka’s hands. Hikaru is still talking. “There’s a dish of pudding in there, and some biscuits! They’re sweet, but spicy, so be careful with them! What else, what else...Right! There’s two bottles of fresh lemonade, they should stay cold for a while still.”
“Wow,” Sokka says, a fair bit stunned. “Thanks so much, this is awesome. You’re the best!”
“Psht, it’s nothing,” Hikaru says, but her blush gives away her pleasure at the compliment. “Now, go make sure our Fire Lord kicks back for a while!” Sokka is shooed out of the kitchen faster than he can process what’s happening. With a grin and a shake of the head, Sokka returns to the garden. He deposits the basket on the blanket and sets off to intercept Zuko, who should be getting out of his meeting any minute now.
After a few minutes of waiting in the hallway, the heavy door to the council room is finally pushed open. Council members and a handful of onlooking civilians pour out of the room. Some exchange pleasantries while others walk on with a shadow of gloom over their faces. When the stream of people finally slows to a trickle, Sokka peeks through the doorway and sees Zuko standing at the head of the table, a fake smile plastered on his face as he speaks with an old man whose shoulders are raised to his ears. It doesn’t take a genius to guess that the wound up old man is General Xian, who Zuko had been dreading meeting with for days.
Sokka can see General Xian’s body language get more aggressive as Zuko gets tenser and tenser. Sokka has to reign in his irritation, because this is ridiculous! If the old bag doesn’t like the outcome of the meeting then he can revise his proposal and pitch it again in a few weeks! Honestly, it’s like half of these council members have never heard the word ‘no’ before. Sokka wants to intervene. The lack of respect being shown toward the Fire Lord would make anyone’s blood boil, not even considering that that’s Sokka’s partner being berated. Unfortunately, Sokka and Zuko have learned the hard way what happens when his...negotiations are interrupted. They never want to have to deal with accusations of Zuko being ‘a Water Tribe whore’ or Sokka ‘manipulating council decisions’ again. Which, really, is funny, seeing as Sokka is literally the Fire Lord’s official advisor, but it’s not like it’s surprising that the old bigots haven’t had the thought occur to them yet.
Finally, General Xian storms out of the council room. He doesn’t even pay Sokka a spare glance, which would offend him if he wasn’t so relieved. Sokka steps into the now-empty room and sees Zuko collapsed into his chair with his head in his hands.
“Hey,” Sokka says, “what do you need?” He approaches Zuko’s right side and puts a hand on his shoulder. Zuko groans and rolls his neck back to look at Sokka.
“I hate that bastard, I cannot wait until he drops dead.” Sokka’s mouth drops open and he hears one of the three guards stationed in the room choke back a laugh.
“Zuko!” Sokka admonishes, although there’s no heat behind it. “There are always people listening, you better hope he doesn’t die any time soon now!”
“Sokka, do you think I have time in my schedule to kill a man?” Zuko deadpans, and Sokka loses it. He laughs so loud his chest hurts and tears gather in his eyes, and he needs to take deep breaths to collect himself.
“No, you don’t,” he finally replies through chuckles, “but you do have time to come with me!” Sokka moves his hand from Zuko’s shoulder to his bicep and hauls him to his feet.
“Come with you where?” Zuko asks, and gets no response. “Sokka!” he whines, “I have papers!”
“And I need attention!” Sokka smoothly plucks the thick folder off of the table and pulls Zuko through the door. He notices the guards follow behind them and notes that one of them is unfamiliar. Zuko did mention last week that there was new staff being hired, and he just hopes that whoever was in charge of that did thorough background checks. He shifts his grip to Zuko’s warm hand and pulls him through the long corridors faster and faster, until they’re both running through the halls with reckless abandon. Sokka can hear the stamping of the guards trying to keep up behind them, but he doesn’t have it in him to feel bad.
As they zip around a corner, Sokka almost bowls over an innocent staff carrying a wicker basket.
“Sorry!” he yells over his shoulder. Zuko, still gripping his hand, laughs hysterically as the poor man waves them off with a shake of his head. Soon after, the duo burst through the doorway to the garden, panting. Their cheeks are flushed red and the smiles on their faces are the furthest thing from fake. Tui and La, does Sokka love this man. He is overwhelmed by it, in that moment. His chest fills with bubbles and he feels like he could start floating with the power of it.
“Sokka?” Zuko asks, smile still on his face but voice tentative. Instead of answering, Sokka wraps his arms around Zuko’s waist and pulls him close. He presses their foreheads together and stares into the golden eyes he has come to recognize as home. Zuko stares back up at him, expression softening. Sokka leans in to kiss him, and their lips connect. Zuko’s warm, chapped lips slot perfectly against Sokka’s own, and the familiarity of the sensation is so comforting it leaves him breathless. Sokka smiles again and breaks away.
“C’mon,” he says, pulling Zuko along again, “I have a surprise for you!”
“So you didn’t just bring me out here to make out? Disappointing.”
“Shush, you.” Sokka pushes apart from Zuko and starts to walk further into the garden.
When Zuko catches sight of the picnic setup, he stops in his tracks.
“You...did this?” he turns to Sokka, eyes shining.
“Yeah,” he answers nervously, “what do you think?”
Instead of answering, Zuko slams into Sokka with a crushing hug.
“I love it,” he murmurs into Sokka’s ear. “I—my mother and I used to do this. Azula too, before she got too old.” Sokka hums in understanding and hugs Zuko tighter. After a moment, Zuko pulls away and shrugs off his heavy robe. He flops down bodily on the patterned blanket and Sokka snorts. He plops down beside him, much more delicately.
“How was the meeting?” Sokka asks after a beat of silence.
“Ugh.” Zuko replies, eloquent as ever.
“That bad?” Sokka can sympathize. He doesn’t usually sit in on the smaller meetings like today’s, but he has plenty of experience as Zuko’s official right hand man that makes him painfully aware of how unbearable the older council members can be, even after four years of Zuko being in power.
“Apparently, the colonies should be abandoned as a casualty of the ‘loss’—” this Zuko says with overdramatic air quotes, “—of the Hundred Year War. Some people are so privileged, it boggles my mind. I mean, there are thousands of people still living in the colonies!” Zuko is getting visibly worked up, with steam curling from his ears and his face quickly reddening.
“Darling, you’re preaching to the choir. But we don’t need to focus on that right now. There’s a basket of Hikaru’s food that’s calling for our full attention.” That gets Zuko’s attention. He sits up, steam dissipating as quickly as it arrived. Sokka unpacks the basket, pulling out two thick sandwiches, a sealed container of colourful fruit, a covered bowl of pudding, half a dozen biscuits, still warm from the oven, and two glass bottles of bubbly lemonade, as promised. Before they begin to eat, Zuko stands up and offers the guards biscuits and fruit served on red silk napkins. They accept with quick thank-you’s and shallow bows, and Zuko sits back down.
As they dig into the sandwiches, Sokka details his idea for more efficient Fire Nation boats.
“I mean, they kind of have to go all over now, we might as well look into making them faster! There’s so much excess metal that serves no purpose other than a little bit of insulation, and it isn’t like it’s hard to stay warm on a Fire Nation ship. It would be cheaper in the long run, too!” Sokka finishes his explanation, which involved a lot of hand waving and sporadically veering off into different topics. Zuko nods, deep in thought.
“Have I told you how smart you are today?” he finally says after a pregnant pause.
“No, I don’t think you have.” Sokka replies, voice lilting.
“Well, you, Sokka, are a genius. Do you think you can have plans drawn up by the end of the month?”
“Yeah! I’ve already started working on a rough draft, so it shouldn’t take too long.” Zuko nods, satisfied. They finish their sandwiches, and begin picking away at the fruit, taking occasional sips of their lemonades.
Zuko nudges Sokka’s shoulder, “See that?” he prompts, pointing up.
“See what?” Sokka asks as he squints up into the bright sky.
“That cloud! It looks like Appa!” Zuko says excitedly. Sokka smiles again, huffing out an amused breath.
“Zuko, they’re clouds. They all look like Appa.”
“No, look!” Zuko insists, “It really does!”
“Okay, if you say so.” Zuko pouts, and Sokka pelts a blueberry at his face.
“Hey!” he squaks. Sokka can’t even reply, he’s laughing so hard. The small blue stain on Zuko’s cheek paired with the incredibly offended expression painted on his face is too much, and Sokka laughs so hard he makes a horrible choking sound. Soon enough, Zuko joins in, tears slithering down his face. They manage to collect themselves after a few moments and dish out and devour the chocolate pudding without preamble.
Dishes put back in the basket, Sokka pulls out the Pai Sho set. Zuko rolls his eyes but helps him set it up anyway. Years ago, Iroh discovered that Sokka’s a bit of a Pai Sho prodigy, and they’ve been playing together regularly ever since. Zuko, unfortunately, still has yet to beat either of them more than a handful of times.
After a few rounds, Zuko flops down on his stomach, a clear sign of defeat. Sokka lays down beside him on his back. He closes his eyes and blindly reaches for Zuko’s hand. When he finds it, he brings it up to his lips and presses a brief kiss to Zuko’s knuckles. In return, Zuko reaches over and scratches at Sokka’s scalp with his free hand. Sokka goes boneless and lets out a groan of approval.
There’s a long stretch of silence where the two of them do nothing but enjoy each other’s presence. They lay together, shoulder to shoulder, listening to the breeze in the trees and each other’s gentle breaths.
“You are...a turtleduck.” Zuko says randomly. Sokka looks over to where Zuko’s gaze is fixed. There is a family of turtleducks splashing around in the pond, and the easy smile on Zuko’s face is indescribable.
“Explain?” Sokka prompts.
Zuko turns his eyes to Sokka, who has now propped himself up on his elbows. His smile widens.
“You make me happy.”
“Oh my—” Sokka chokes out, “Zuko, I love you so much.” he pulls Zuko onto his chest and wraps his arms around his slim shoulders.
“Love you too,” Zuko responds, cuddling into Sokka’s broad chest. They stay there, locked in each other’s embrace. When Sokka notices Zuko’s breathing even out, he looks down to see his partner asleep on top of him. He just chuckles and shifts around, trying to get more comfortable. It seems like he’s going to be here for a while.