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“Stop squirming.”
“I’m not!”
“Your crooked wing says otherwise.”
“Maybe you just need more practise - ow!”
Sokka pouted and reluctantly shuffled closer for Suki to finish applying the red around his eyes, the soft brush tickling his skin in the humid air. Despite her frustration with him, her touch immediately became more gentle. “I know you’re not implying I don’t know what I’m doing, Sokka, because that would be a very unwise thing to do to the person holding tools so close to your eyes.”
“Of course not, you’re good at everything. What made you think I was?”
“Better.”
“But…not to question you or anything, what would be so terrible about me skipping the makeup, just this once?”
“You would have to skip the whole practice.” She frowned, looking concerned for him while maintaining her concentration, brushing past his brow. “If you train with the Kyoshi Warriors you have to wear the traditional uniform including the makeup. Is something wrong? I thought you loved it.”
“I do! I do, it’s just…” He worried the inner flesh of his cheek between his teeth, the fabric of his pants pinched between his twiddling fingers. He sighed. “Zuko’s going to be there and I don’t know what he’ll…”
“You’re worried about what Zuko will think? That’s a first.”
“He’s one of my best friends, Suki! And I…I think…I might want more.”
The brush stilled. Suki was too close to Sokka’s face for him to catch her full reaction, but he felt her breath stop, and then, like it never happened, she continued applying his makeup. When she spoke again her voice still clung to her surprise but was bright and supportive in a way that eased a tension in Sokka’s chest. “Sokka, that’s amazing! I can’t believe I didn’t notice before. When did you realise?”
“Only recently. I think it’s been coming on for a while though. Probably since he first joined us at the Air Temple to be honest, although I didn’t know at the time because I was busy being in love with you.” She snorted. “He was just ranting about some play and I guess the light hit him a certain way because all I could think was “Oh, that’s what this feeling is,” but it wasn’t new, just the first time I could put it into words, y’know?”
“I think I do,” she hummed, leaning back to admire her handiwork, “but if you like him so much then you should know you can be comfortable with him. Why are you worried about him seeing you all done up?”
Sokka swallowed, his throat dry as he tried to cough up a coherent answer, strung together through his scattered mind, the guilty weight of the thought. “I know it’s stupid, but I’m worried he won’t…approve, I guess? Of a guy in a skirt or makeup? It sucks,/ because he’s trying so hard to overcome all the shit he was taught when the Fire Nation was a bigoted dictatorship and I know he’s come so far but I just don’t know, y’know? I don’t know how he’s going to react or what he thinks about it, like, what if he’s like me when I was fourteen? Obsessed with being "manly" and gender roles and - and so insecure I took it out on everyone else. I would still be like that if you didn’t beat it out of me, and Zuko is very particular about his feelings and stuff so what if that’s a sign of it and when he sees me he - he won’t…”
Suki pulled him to her shoulder sharply for a tight hug, ignoring how their crossed legs made the distance awkward, and murmured “Oh, Sokka,” and the sight of the makeup supplies over her shoulder reminded him not to cry. Not that it mattered. Knowing the Kyoshi Warriors, their makeup was probably waterproof: as invincible as them. Without his tears the feeling bubbled under the surface, rolling in his gut against the comfort of Suki’s embrace, burning the back of his eyes in a rising sting.
“I told him about me,” he whispered, the truth slipping out almost unnoticed until he felt Suki tense beside him, “I told him a while ago about being trans and…yeah.”
“Oh. Ok,” she said carefully, rubbing a hand under his shoulder blades, “How did he react?”
“Ok, I guess. He was really cool about it and listened to me explain how I feel about gender and what it’s like, but he had this…look on his face that I… couldn’t understand? I don’t know if he was secretly judging me or what but there was something he didn’t say, and I just kept thinking about it and over-thinking about it and once I realised I liked him I started worrying that he’s, like, freaked out or something. I don’t know. I’m just scared that if I’m not…manly enough, he won’t take me seriously anymore now that he knows. It’s weird. I haven’t worried about that since I was a kid and wanted my dad’s friends to call me by my real name but now…”
“Because he matters to you, Sokka. You want to know he respects you, all of you now that he knows the truth.” Her grip tightened, her voice becoming forceful and protective. “And he will if he’s a real friend, and especially if you’re meant to be something more.”
“Ok, but what if he doesn’t?”
“You said yourself that you would still be that misogynistic fourteen-year-old if I didn’t beat it out of you. Maybe that’s just what Zuko needs.”
Sokka huffed a wet laugh into her shoulder. “I don’t think you’re allowed to beat up the Fire Lord.”
“This isn’t about what I’m allowed to do, it’s what I need to do. Besides, who wants a transphobe as a leader?”
“Suki.”
“Sokka.”
On principle, Sokka ignored the smile in her voice, because he was smiling too.
Zuko was nowhere in sight when they arrived at the practise grounds, and Sokka could have fainted with relief. Maybe that was just the Fire Nation weather.
The area chosen for their training was tucked into a corner of the sprawling gardens, lined with trees for blessed shade on one side and perfectly groomed hedges on the other that opened up to a path that Sokka knew led directly to the turtleduck pond. The tiles were an array of reds and browns, simple shapes pressed together to stand out from the earth and warmed in the sun. In short, it was the perfect place not to be disturbed or seen from the palace. Sokka ran over to the trees and set his sword against the thick bark of one, lingering longer than necessary in the shade.
“Sokka, come on! We don’t have all day!” Suki called from where the warriors were gathering at the centre, fanning themselves. One, who must have been Ty Lee, did a handstand for their amusement. Sokka reached them just as she turned upright with a grin, and they began.
There was something comforting about the familiar forms of Kyoshi, steadying about the stances and motions. How many times has he done this? Forgotten about being better, stronger, more and more and more I have to be more and let himself just be: listened to the instructions of others and trusted them wholeheartedly, relaxed into the companionship of uniform, felt beautiful in a way that doesn’t make his skin crawl.
He flicked his wrist, twisting his arm and fan against Ming’s and almost knocking it from her grasp before she stepped forward and turned to pull him over her shoulder, using his own momentum against him, and the world tilted. The clear blue sky consumed Sokka’s vision as he blinked his eyes open, squinting against the light and grass tickling his neck.
“Do you need a hand?” Ming giggled, coming into view above him, her beaming white face stark against her dark hair. Sokka stared, dumbstruck then smiled, taking her outstretched hand.
“When did you get so strong?” he asked incredulously, and she laughed, rightfully proud of her progress.
“When did you get out of shape?”
“I am not, I’m just warming up! Two out of three?”
When Ming helped him to his feet for the fourth time to his good-natured grumbling, they switched partners, and Sokka fell into the easy rhythm of the steps, letting his armour flow around his legs despite the heat baking the back of his neck, the fans spreading and tucking together narrowly in his hands like an extension of his arm, obeying the subtle flex of the muscles in his hands, the cords of his fingers, the twitch of his palm. He laughed, loud and genuine at the end of every match whether he won or lost and was overjoyed to remark on his opponents progress each time. This, this is what it meant to be a part of a team. No jealousy, no scrambling for power or undeserved leadership. Simply acceptance and equality. He didn’t get to see the Kyoshi Warriors often - he didn’t get to see anyone or stay anywhere longer for a few weeks at a time, these days - but they’ll always be the first to have taught him this, give him comfort in his own skin, force him to see horizon’s outside his narrow mind and lay the foundation for the person he would become.
As he laid propped up against a tree, waiting for feeling to come back into his arms after a session with Ty Lee (who still prefers Chi-blocking to using her fans), his gaze traced the design carved into the hilt of his sword by his side, the swirls and careful lines that he could imagine pressed into his palm clear as day. Even this, they had given him: the basic ability to hold a weapon, to test the balance and treat it as a part of him long before he thought to take up anything other than his boomerang or heard of Piando.
He and Suki had their run romantically, but even if they hadn’t remained great friends afterwards Sokka doubted he’d ever be able to give up what she taught him before they knew each other or Sokka knew himself. Everything he fought for, many of the values he would hold until death, were forced into him the moment she ambushed them on her island almost six years ago.
“Chi-blocking, huh?”
Sokka startled, swinging his head around to the source of the voice, his neck cracking as his temple smacked against the tree behind him, sending a vicious ache through his skull.
“Careful, buddy, I don’t want to drag you to the healers,” the rough voice said again, now laced with genuine concern as Sokka blinked his vision clear and found red robes spilling across the grass next to him.
Oh shit. “Zuko,” he said, looking somewhere at his friend’s chin and hoping if he squinted Zuko would assume the sun was in his eyes, “This is way past fashionably late.”
“Yeah, sorry. A few meetings ran overtime. Minister Lee is still trying to argue there’s nothing wrong with the education system, so that’s fun.”
“What’s he minister for again?”
“Defense.”
Sokka, in his indignation, looked up at Zuko’s face to convey his disbelief, and found Zuko already looking at him. At first Sokka paused, caught in the intensity of Zuko’s eye locked on his own, the gold turned dark and subtle in the shade, his hair pulled in a top-knot with a few short strands escaping the elegant headpiece to tickle his temple. He seemed to tower over Sokka’s slumped form with his perfect posture, giving Sokka an excellent angle to ogle at his strong jaw and the outline of his cheekbones, stark in his pale skin and vibrant robes, until Sokka realised that Zuko wasn’t looking him in the eye. His gaze traced just above, along his brow and the side of his face, something curious but carefully concealed, and Sokka turned sharply to look forward, pretending to watch the girls spar. Zuko had seen the makeup. Zuko had seen it, Zuko was seeing it on him, and the uniform, and was creating his own opinions on it at this moment that Sokka had no idea how to decipher, and wasn’t sure if he wanted to.
“Of course the voice of the military is ok with kids being fed propaganda,” he said with a strained laugh, not nearly as disapproving or casual as he meant it to be, but Zuko hummed in agreement as if he didn’t notice.
“I can’t say I’m his biggest fan, but the new Minister of Education seems to be handling it well. She’s done some amazing stuff with those notes you gave me on the Southern Tribe. Do you want to look over it later?”
“Yeah, sure, if I regain feeling in my arms anytime soon.”
Later. So he wasn’t completely freaked out. Ok, ok, good. Sokka could work with that.
Zuko chuckled, a quiet but sincere thing, and let his shoulders sag, relaxing in the warm air. “You’ll be fine in a minute. The first time she chi-blocked me I lost my bending for two hours. Everyone was hysterical.”
“Wait, seriously? She’s used it on you?”
“I was the first person she ever used it on. We were seven. Azula and I were messing around with our bending, Ty Lee with her tricks and Mai with fake throwing stars. It was actually an accident, and we were all terrified that it was permanent. Except Azula. She couldn’t wait to tell father.”
Sokka chanced a glance over at him. Zuko stared into the distance, watching the girls without seeing them and shook his head to rid himself of the bitter tang in his voice, softening into wistfulness. He half smiled. “I started bothering Mai and Uncle to teach me about weapons and stuff after that. It was one thing being a weak bender, but I didn’t want to be defenceless if I lost my bending for good.”
“I get that.” Zuko turned to look at him, his gaze searching and hopeful as it finally met Sokka’s own, as it often was. “Not wanting to be defenceless without bending, I mean. Katara is incredible and all, but she wasn’t always a master, even if it didn’t stop her from relying on her bending when she shouldn’t have. That’s why I…” He swallowed around his rising nerves, pulling at grass absently between his fingers without looking away from Zuko’s face. “It’s why I love training with the Kyoshi warriors so much. We’re all non-benders, so I don’t have to worry about matching up to something I can’t understand, or adapting techniques meant to throw rocks or freeze oceans with my mind. There’s just a sense of community.”
“Do you…often feel like you can’t match up to the others?”
Zuko’s voice was careful, measured, still a touch unsure. Sokka froze. This is not a conversation he meant to happen.
“I mean…sometimes,” he replied, cracking a smile he didn’t feel to break the tension, “The world is built around benders, y’know? Sometimes it’s hard to be noticed beside them or do anything that doesn’t prioritise them. That’s why I learned to sword fight and use Kyoshi’s fans, and why I have such a brilliant mind.” His grin became cheeky and Zuko cocked his eyebrow at him, smirking at his put-on arrogance. “Katara can play in water all she wants, but nothing can take my brain from me, or my sword. No matter what the world says, there’s more than just bending, y’know?”
“Yeah, I understand.” His gaze moved to trace the red trailing up Sokka’s eye again, secretive and considering, tracking the gentle sway of the cords dangling off Sokka’s headpiece. “I think we understand a lot about each other.”
Zuko blushed, the red staining his pale skin and creeping down his neck as his eyes widened, like he didn’t mean to say that. He turned forward again, watching without seeing, pushing his shoulders back and straightening his spine so the distance between them was suddenly never-ending. Sokka opened his mouth and found no words, staring at the side of Zuko’s flustered face and noticing with amazement how his ear burned while the Fire Lord resolutely didn’t look in his direction.
What do you mean? he wanted to ask, Why do you keep looking at me like that? What are you thinking? What do you think of me? Why do I want to know?
But he knew why he wanted to know. He’s known for a long time, even if he didn’t want to admit it, and now that he had the questions sat squirming under his skin, between his teeth, waiting to strike. Why do you look so scared?
“Sokka, if you’re done lazing around, I need a partner,” Suki said, materialising in front of them and the two men almost leapt out of their skin, Sokka nearly concussing himself again on the bark. Suki waited with her arms crossed, aiming for impatience but Sokka could see the concern in how she glanced between them, scanning both of their faces.
“Suki, I just fought Ty Lee! I can’t move.”
“Can’t you.”
She looked down and he followed her gaze to his hand curled around blades of grass beside a shredded pile of those he thoughtlessly plucked from the ground. He stopped and stared at his hand. Flexed it, curled and spread his fingers. Raised his arm. Did the same to the other with little difficulty.
“Or I’m fine.”
“Exactly.”
She pulled him to his feet and supported him as he swayed on weak legs and found his balance, eventually standing upright on his own as the numbness abated. He began dusting off his skirt when he noticed Suki looking over his shoulder and remembered Zuko was sitting there. Watching him. In his full Kyoshi armour. He felt his face burn and hoped it wasn’t visible as he turned around, forcing himself not to think about how he found Zuko staring at his attire in the brief moment before he met his eyes.
“So…I should probably…” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder with a strained smile that Zuko returned, his cheek still pink.
“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll have to leave for another meeting soon so I’ll just…stay here until then.”
He looked down quickly to smooth his hands across the crimson fabric pooling in his lap, and Sokka took that as his cue to stumble over a brief goodbye and spin back to Suki so that she could drag him away from a potential disaster. She guided him to the far side of the training grounds and settled into position with only a questioning arc of her brow, but pushed no further. Sokka smiled gratefully. He could relay the conversation to her later, without the risk of Zuko overhearing.
He spent the next twenty minutes stumbling through combat, hyper aware of the eyes on his back, how his armour moved around him, the sweat dripping down his face and sticking to his neck, how he looked to the sharp gaze he didn’t dare meet. Suki landed him on his back more times than he could count, but that was hardly out of the ordinary, so he suppressed the anxious impulse to look over his shoulder and be embarrassed. If she noticed he was distracted and quicker to fall, she was clever enough to know why and kept silent until the eighth time when she nudged him to turn as she pulled him to his feet. Zuko’s place under the trees was empty. Sokka sighed in relief and tried to settle back into his own body for the rest of the session.
“It doesn’t sound like he’s upset about it,” Suki reassured him later as they made their way back to his rooms, ducking through the empty halls as the light faded into dusk, the unbearable heat finally waning, “Just…curious. If he’s never thought about this kind of thing before then he’s bound to have questions. Good-intentioned questions, that is.”
Sokka huffed and rubbed at his eyes, trusting Suki’s excellent skills at everything to keep his makeup from smudging and guide him through another crisis. “I know, I know. It’s Zuko - he always has good intentions.”
“Then why are you still freaking out?”
“I’m not freaking out!”
She gave him a look, and he realised he had almost knocked over a probably priceless vase by flinging his arms wide in indignation. He dropped them quickly and took a half-step away from the side of the corridor and any other valuables that looked to have been owned by his best friend’s thirteen-times great grandparents and forged from pure gold by a dragon’s breath.
“I might be freaking out. A little. But that’s only because he kept…looking at me. Like that!”
“Like what?”
“Like…Zuko!” He kept his frantic hand movements closer to his body as they passed a row of paintings in ornate frames. “You know! When he gets all relaxed and sweet and…and lovable - how he is when he opens up about his childhood and stuff and it makes me all…” He struggled for words, searching the ceiling for answers and hoping if he looked up far enough his eyes would roll back into his skull and he could examine his own brain and find the blown fuse that left him scrambling, the catch in his lungs that stopped his breath when the Fire Lord was around him or an instruction manual, at least, for the warmth in his chest and how to walk when his legs were made of jelly at his smile.
“You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
She was smirking at him, truly enjoying his suffering.
“Not that bad.” A bold-faced lie.
“Sokka, I don’t think I’ve seen you this hung up on someone since…well, me. And I have a feeling it’s not as hopeless as you seem to think. Try not to worry too much, ok? Trust me on this. Or even better, trust Zuko on this.”
“But what if…” He pouted, refusing to look at her confident smile. “What if it doesn’t work out?”
“Then it doesn’t. But you know you’ve tried and go from there. Have I ever steered you wrong before?”
Sokka looked straight ahead, watching the turn in the corridor approach them. “No. No, you haven’t.”
Suki dropped him off at the door of his room with a quiet goodnight, and was halfway down the hall when Sokka called after her, his hand half on the handle.
“What if he doesn’t date trans guys?” he asked her, the new fear bursting forth with a cold grip on his chest.
She paused and looked at him, her eyes calculating, then softened into sympathy. “Then I’ll have the sea prunes ready and Ty Lee on standby to kick his ass. But you really don’t have to worry about that.”
“How do you know?”
“I know everything, remember?” The tone of her voice was playful, but she was still being gentle with him, her words careful and warm against the anxiety lacing his racing thoughts. “If he really liked you before he knew, then he likes you after. Especially if he’s still looking at you like “that.”” Her smile was wide and true. “Like Zuko. And only for you.”
Sokka swallowed, his eyes suddenly foggy as he thanked every force in the universe for Suki finding her way into his life. Then, just to be difficult he said “Ok, but what if he’s too into it though. Like, he only dates trans guys and he doesn’t actually like me for me at all.”
Suki rolled her eyes. “Then I’m ordering you to break up with him so you can be with someone who does love you for you and definitely kicking his ass for making you uncomfortable.” There was still a smile in her voice, that undying loyalty, protectiveness and love, and he grinned.
“Thanks, Suki. You’re the best.”
“I know, Sokka. Goodnight. Don’t keep yourself up overthinking.”
“No promises. Goodnight.” The door clicked shut quietly behind him.
Sokka looked at himself in the mirror for a long time before moving to undress. Some might consider it vanity, but he just had to know, like an itch far under his skin, what Zuko saw today, what he would see in the back of his mind every time he and Sokka met from now on until the end of time (which Suki would call overdramatic, but she wasn’t here right now to talk him into being rational). The white was still applied evenly over his face, not turned patchy or running like he feared, and the red and black was only slightly smudged along his eyelid and dragged down to mark his cheek, most certainly caused by himself in the hallway. He let himself breathe. No matter what Zuko thought about him in the Kyoshi uniform, at least he knew he looked his best.
He undid the elaborate headband first, setting it on the dressing table as he pulled his hair free of its wolf tail and immediately felt the weight of the day in all its intensity as it began to fall away from him. His hair felt odd brushing against his grubby chin, coated in product. He peeled the gloves from his hands and stood, stretching out his aching muscles, and methodically shed his armour. Usually this, like the training itself, was a group process: Suki would undo the straps at his shoulder, he would wrestle with the cords tangled behind Ming’s back, Ty Lee would collect the fans and return them to the storeroom for safekeeping before Suki could drag her exhausted self across the palace to do it herself - but tonight he felt raw with eyes on him that were never really there, like he was playing a charade.
So he tucked himself away in his lavish room, grateful not for the first time that Zuko showed his friends from the Gaang such favouritism when they visited and set him up in a private corner of the palace near the Fire Lord’s own chambers. No one would disturb him here, he was sure, for anything short of an emergency. Except for the girls and Zuko himself, who obviously owned the place, but they knew Sokka was hoping for some alone time and would stay away, and Zuko never dropped by unannounced anyway.
Until tonight.
“Sokka,” someone hissed, and Sokka leapt up from the dressing table with a warrior's cry that definitely didn’t sound like a startled shriek, dropping the wet cloth to reach for his sword. “Sokka, it’s me. Relax before someone hears you.”
He calmed once the hilt was in his hand and he followed the voice to - ah. The Blue Spirit was in his window, settled rather comfortably against the frame. Ok.
“Zuko?!” he asked, because his mind seemed to hit a wall and could come up with nothing other than the man in front of him, “What are you doing here?”
“I just…” Sokka couldn’t make out any of his face underneath the mask, but he has spent a lot of time watching Zuko’s body language, how he fidgets and bluffs. Here, he shrunk in on himself, uncertainty and embarrassment written into the curve of his shoulders before he straightened them to hide it. His hands started to twitch instead. “I wanted to show you something but if you’re busy then…”
Sokka glanced back at the cloth and caught his reflection in the mirror. There were still spots of white and red on his face, up his temple, tucked between the corner of his eye and his nose and tracing his hairline. Black was smeared stubbornly all along the lines of his eyelids from scrubbing to remove it and his skin was glistening and looked raw after being unveiled. So much for looking his best. He tried not to let his embarrassment show. “Oh, it’s fine,” he said quickly, picking up the cloth and focusing on the worst of what remained, “This’ll just take a second.”
Sokka and Zuko had known each other for almost six years. In all that time, especially at the beginning of what was more a begrudging allyship rather than friendship, there were many awkward moments between them. Sokka thought they had left that part of their relationship behind, now being exceptionally close, and they could look back on those moments and laugh.
He was very wrong. This was the most awkward out of all of them.
Sokka abused his skin, begging the damn makeup to come off when he was using the right products and everything because Suki gave them to him while Zuko sat in the window frame drumming his fingers on his own thigh in a way that tripled Sokka’s heart rate. He wondered if he should invite Zuko in, then shook the thought away. This was his house. Zuko could do whatever he wanted, and if lounging in the window was what he wanted to do while Sokka peeled layers off his face, then so be it.
“How was your meeting?” he said, finally admitting defeat and dropping the cloth on the table, ignoring the black now permanently covering his lashes. At least the white came off, and he had irritated his skin so much that the red was barely visible. Perfect.
Zuko shrugged and watched Sokka scramble for his shoes. “The usual. Old men telling me I should let people die, and everything I’m doing is wrong. Younger men who are still older than me saying I need to make a pantomime out of the court to prove I’m truly sorry for letting people die in the first place, and everything I’m doing is wrong.”
“Fuck ‘em all,” Sokka said, with feeling, searching now for something to throw over his tanktop in the sun’s absence, “What about the women on the councel?”
“The same, but more efficiently, so I can’t complain.”
“Seems about right. Did you read up on those notes I sent you?”
“About Omashu once being called “Weed City”? Yeah, I did. No, it’s not going on the syllabus.”
Sokka paused in pushing his arms through his jacket (that he once thought too thin to even be considered protection against any weather, but Zuko had it custom made blue, embroidered silver and lined with buffalo-geese fur so he had to accept it) to give him an indignant glare that he probably couldn’t even see in the dark room. “Are you questioning the reliability of my sources?”
“Given that all your sources are “King Bumi said so with no proof,” then yes.”
He was smiling; Sokka could hear it in his voice, unrestrained under the privacy of his mask. He smiled back, unable to put up any convincing front of his offence. “Well if his word is to be taken so lightly then I’ll let him know. I’m sure he’ll appreciate being insulted by the Fire Lord.”
“I’m not insulting him. I’m insulting your lack of evidence in regards to what would be a major historical misunderstanding. Which is very disappointing for a member of the White Lotus and legendary scholar in the making, by the way. I’m beginning to think I should have a word with Uncle about your membership.”
“I knew the whole thing was just nepotism,” he scoffed, choking on the rush of the words legendary scholar in the making out of Zuko’s mouth. Sokka would probably let Zuko insult him for the rest of time if he said it all in that sarcastic timbre, fond and relaxed and wrapped around knee-buckling compliments. He would probably let him say anything regardless. “So, are we going ahead with the kidnapping thing or are you just going to keep planning how to ruin my life?”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” and he sounded genuinely offended, “Come on, before the guards make their rounds.”
Sokka didn’t hesitate to move towards him and reach out a hand as Zuko slipped back out the window and settled on the sloping roof outside, waiting to help him through. “You just have their routes memorised, do you? Sneak around your own house often?”
“When I need to get away.” Zuko gripped his forearm tightly and guided him through the opening into the cool night air. It burst across his face, his damp skin and loose hair and he gasped as a breeze rustled his clothes and he found his footing on the tiles. “Careful, it can be hard the first few times. Stay close, and don’t fall.”
“Great advice. What would I do without you?”
“Slip, probably.” He was smiling again, in his voice, but didn’t let go as he tugged Sokka over to the wall of the palace beside the open window and began making his way across the rooftops, Sokka right behind him.
Zuko moved with practised grace, ducking around corners and leaping over gaps as if he did it everyday. Maybe he did. He took care in guiding Sokka too, keeping close to the walls and avoiding lit windows. They were in true darkness now, only the soft glow of the moon and pinpricks of stars above guiding them as the palace prepared for bed, but not once did he slip or seem unsure of his footing. Sokka, on the other hand, slipped plenty, but Zuko seemed to predict that too and always turned to pull him upright in time and knew when to slow down. Sokka tried to stay quiet at least, but occasionally his own stumbling would take him by surprise and pull an alarmed yell from his throat. Zuko, on those turns, would appear with a hand over his mouth and that constant steadying grip on his arm, amusement colouring his voice when he whispered “Careful,” and Sokka had to pretend his racing heart was a result of traversing across rooftops at night
The world around them was falling to silence. Guards passed somewhere below, people bustled about their rooms inside, servants wound up the last of their duties for the day, and they were alone. Zuko took them up, climbing drain pipes and reaching down to pull Sokka up the floors of the building at his incredulous looks when asked to follow, and Sokka soon lost sight of the courtyard as they rounded the back side of the palace. He wanted to ask where they were going, demand some answers, crack a joke to break the silence, but the night seemed heavy around them. Zuko, as difficult as he was to spot in the dark in his costume, was a constant and warm presence in front of him, the moonlight occasionally catching the white on his mask when he turned to look at him, and Sokka would have to look away and tuck the hair out of his face, just to have something to do with his hand that wasn’t occupied, the rough leather of Zuko’s gloves enticing his palm. They didn’t say a word. Sokka looked at his back and knew nothing of his mind, and trusted him.
“Here,” Zuko murmured at last, ducking close to be heard in the stillness, “Just up there,” and he hoisted Sokka up one more layer, letting him step into his cupped palms to push up onto the rooftop and past a dark window.
Sokka gripped the tiles, dry from the warm day, and pulled himself up, his hair falling in his eyes as he rolled onto his back to give Zuko room. He landed gracefully next to him, going to his knees as Sokka pushed himself to his elbows.
“Are you Ok? You didn’t hurt yourself any of the times you fell?”
“No, I’m alright. But what did you bring me here for?”
Zuko looked down, contemplative or embarrassed Sokka couldn’t tell, then turned to gaze into the distance. The gardens sprawled before them, giving way to the twinkling lights of the city, and the silver moonlight reflected off the pond below, making it a shimmering, glowing dot in the cluster of shadows. He shrugged. “To talk.”
“Ok…well, not that I don’t appreciate the adventure but why does it have to be on the roof? You sure you’re not gonna push me off and call it an accident?”
Zuko was scowling, Sokka could tell from how his head snapped to him and his hands were tense but unclenched. “No, I just - It’s…” He sighed, then finally slid the mask back from his face, and there were indeed still the remnants of a scowl, softened by insecurity. Little strands of hair were trapped between the mask and his forehead, ruffled adorably around his face. “I feel…safer up here, I guess. It’s more private. No one’s going to barge in and tell me to be the Fire Lord when I don’t want to be.”
Sokka tried not to stare at how the shadows across his face made his skin almost glow, or notice the desperate need to reach out and smooth his hair back into place and the anxiety away from his expression. “OK. Yeah, I - I get that. What do you want to talk about?”
Zuko looked uncertain and shuffled to sit next to him while Sokka sat upright, watching him closely. Once settled, he wrapped his arms around his knees and didn’t meet Sokka’s eyes. “It’s…um, it’s about…me. And you. Us.”
Sokka’s stomach tightened. “Oh?”
“And…what you told me a while ago, about, you know, and…then today with Suki it’s…”
His heart stopped cold in his chest. This was it. This was the moment Zuko ended their friendship.
Zuko inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. “I’m like you.”
The world held its breath. The clouds were suspended motionless in the sky, everyone preparing for bed in the building beneath them seized. “What?”
“I’m…trans too.” Zuko’s voice shook on the word like it was filthy, forbidden, new on his tongue as he turned his face away fully, hiding the expression Sokka forgot to predict because the world was on its head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, when you told me, but I was so surprised and I’ve never actually…admitted it to anyone before.”
“Zuko…are you serious?”
Zuko looked at him at last, trying to be angry but his eyes were red and watery above his tense jaw. Zuko was crying. “Yes,” he croaked, quickly swiping at his eyes before the tears could fall, “You must hate me for not telling you. I’m sorry. It was when I was really young and everyone who knew the truth was sworn to secrecy. I never thought I’d meet anyone like me, someone who could understand so when you did I - I’m not…I’m not good at this so I just needed time to - to think about it, I guess.”
“Zuko.” Sokka looked at him, took in the tremor in his lip and the tight grip he had on his own calves, protecting himself. He was trying to be closed off, but there was something raw and terrified in his expression. Like he was ready to run. From Sokka. Zuko was scared and he was crying. “Zuko.”
“What?” he snapped, his eyes roving over Sokka’s blank face, judging his reaction, gauging his own safety, then almost pleading, “What, Sokka? What are you thinking? Say something.”
“Zuko.” He reached out and Zuko flinched away, but he kept going. Zuko looked between him and his approaching hand with wide distrustful eyes, but finally held still at something he found in Sokka’s face. Sokka cupped his pale cheek in his palm and held it there. Zuko faltered for a moment, still and tense, then slowly, slowly unwound into his skin. Zuko was scared and crying, and Sokka loved him. “Thank you.”
“You - what?”
“Thank you,” he said again, and the ice in his chest vanished at once, and he was laughing at the joy that replaced it, smiling uncontrollably as he brought a second hand up to hold Zuko’s other cheek, the scar tissue thick under his hand as he moved forward without thought and pressed a kiss to his forehead, grinning at Zuko’s shocked face, “Oh, Spirits, Zuko, I can’t - you kept it a secret all this time and you told me? I thought you hated me but you were just - you’re like me.” Sokka might have been crying. He couldn’t tell, didn’t care, because Zuko didn’t look scared anymore and he was drowning in relief. “I don’t believe it.”
“Of course I don’t hate you,” Zuko huffed, covering Sokka’s hands with his own. He didn’t pull them away. “I would never hate you for anything. I was - thinking. People in the Fire Nation aren’t accepting of that kind of thing after Sozin so I had to be careful. Only my mother, Uncle, Azula and some older palace staff know the truth. If anyone knew - if my father knew, I would’ve been killed, so when you just told me I was - it changed my whole view on it. That I could…trust people, to know. And it wouldn’t make them think less of me.”
Sokka shifted closer so he was facing him fully, swiping his thumb back and forth over his warm skin. “How did you keep it from him?”
At this, Zuko smiled, a small bitter thing. “There were some advantages to having him not care about us. He knew he had a son and daughter, but that was about it. So Azula and I…switched. He was definitely suspicious for a while but my mom just acted like he was crazy, so he dropped it.”
“You - so Azula is also - “
“Yeah.” He looked away, uneasy at her name, the memories twisting his face. “She took my name and I took hers. We actually decided it ourselves first. I was…five, I think, and she was three. We both always knew we wanted to change, and one day she suggested trading names and that was it. I finally felt like I fit. So we told Mom, she freaked out, talked to Uncle about it, and they decided to go with it - got the treatments when the time came so no one suspected a thing.”
“And you’ve kept it a secret your entire life? Did you ever talk about it with people who knew? Your mom, Iroh - Azula, even?”
“No,” he scoffed, “Azula and I had some things in common but we’re not exactly close, and as supportive as they were I could tell Mom and Uncle would rather forget about the whole thing and pretend I was - “ He paused with a sharp inhale, his grip on Sokka’s wrists tightening. “Pretend I was normal. I don’t even remember being a girl, so it shouldn’t matter, but I always felt - strange, like I wasn’t being a boy right, and everyone could tell and they thought it was a mistake for me to transition and be protected for it. Sometimes I would catch a maid who tended to me as a child, or a gardener or even my mom looking at me and I could just tell they were thinking about it. And I couldn’t say a thing, because it was a secret and never happened and they were protecting me by only looking.”
“Oh, Zuko,” he said, and that was it. The dam broke, and tears slid down Zuko’s cheeks, trapped in the space between Sokka’s fingers and dripping down his thumbs. Zuko sucked in a shaking breath, a broken sound shattering in the back of his throat, and Sokka pulled him forward, tucking him into his shoulder and ignoring the tears tickling his neck as he held him close, tangling a hand in the hair at the back of his head. He felt Zuko’s chest heave against his own and his shoulders shook under Sokka’s palm among the sound of his rising sobs, and Sokka felt pressure build behind his own eyes. Zuko was crying and Sokka would never let him feel alone again.
“You can always talk to me,” he vowed when the worst had passed, turning his head to lean against Zuko’s hair and paying no mind to how the mask dug awkwardly into his cheek, “Nothing could ever make me think less of you, Zuko. You being happy will never be a mistake, do you hear me? Never. You deserve it, you deserve every good thing in the world.”
His voice broke in his clogging throat, but he pushed it down. This was not his moment. Zuko forced himself further into Sokka’s embrace, still shaking as a new round of tears soaked through Sokka’s coat and slipped under his collar, but they were silent other than his trembling breaths. His arms tightened almost painfully around Sokka’s torso and Sokka only pulled him closer in response,tangling his fingers in his long hair and squeezing him with his other arm.
Eventually his tears waned, and the trembling subsided as his breathing evened out. He laid still and silent in Sokka’s arms for many moments before slowly moving back, and Sokka almost held him there, desperate to have him close and safe, before he relinquished his grip. His arms fell away as Zuko sat upright, avoiding his eyes as he pulled the mask from the top of his head and dropped it beside him, his cheeks still glistening.
“Thank you,” he whispered, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, and Sokka searched his pockets, producing an unused handkerchief that had come with the jacket a moment later. He held it out until it caught Zuko’s attention, and he almost smiled as he took it. He finished drying his flushed face and blew his nose. He took a deep breath of the night air.
“You know I mean it, don’t you?” Sokka said gently, grateful to find his voice was steady, “You can always talk to me, Zuko. You don’t have to pretend anything, or worry about being good at stuff. I just like you, as you are. I’d honestly be upset if you tried to be anything else.”
Zuko snapped his gaze to him, calculating his sincerity. His eyes were red and tired, his face drawn. He seemed to come to a decision and let his shoulders drop. “Yeah, I…I trust you, Sokka.” His voice was still thick and unsure, even more rough than usual. “I think it’ll be a while before I believe I deserve to be happy or understood, but being with you is…the closest I’ve ever come to it. So I’ll try. To talk about stuff, and be…myself.”
The last few words seemed to pain him, but nothing could suppress the elation in Sokka’s chest.
I trust you. Being with you is the closest I’ve ever come to being happy.
“Good,” he said, finally reaching out and smoothing the dark hair away from Zuko’s forehead, watching in amazement how his shock melted away into comfort and his cheeks warmed, “because I’m going to remind you. All the time. Multiple times a day. And you’ll retract your statement about not hating me.”
Zuko rolled his eyes and smiled, genuinely this time, and tilted his head further into Sokka’s hand. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you that part. You better not be expecting this much of a heart to heart that often.”
“Oh, Spirits, no. I’m charming, but I’m not a miracle worker.” He watched the grin grow over Zuko’s face, his eyes softening. He had been through enough tonight, Sokka decided, enough for a lifetime, but the thought sat selfishly in his mind, burning on his tongue. He wet his lips and settled his hand over Zuko's ear, thick strands of hair weaving through his fingers to keep him there, considering. "But, was there a reason you told me all of this tonight? Does it have anything to do with -" He felt suddenly foolish. "With what I was wearing at training today?"
Zuko's eyes widened, muscles tensing, and Sokka had his answer. Zuko's face grew impossibly warmer. "Well, it's - I thought, since you were - and I didn't know if -"
"Zuko." He raised his other hand to hold his face still like before, feeling the bumps and ridges of his scar with the pad of his thumb. “It’s OK, you can tell me. I’m not upset over it.”
Zuko nodded, once and slow, and settled again. “OK, sorry. I guess I just…wanted to know how you did it.”
“Did what?”
“You know, be…feminine!” he insisted, leaning closer as if confessing something shameful, “I always thought that it wasn’t allowed, or people would think it really was a mistake to help me transition, and no one would take me seriously as a “real” man because I wasn’t good at being one. It’s one thing to fail at everything expected of me, but you actually try to be feminine and do “girly” things anyway. I thought that meant I was a disappointment but you - you don’t! You just do what you want no matter what people think and it doesn’t make you any different. You’re so comfortable in yourself and you don’t overthink about how much you pass, or what people expect or…anything! I’m not even sure if I want to wear a skirt or makeup or whatever but seeing you do it all so effortlessly makes me realise how…tired I am. Of questioning myself, and wondering if I’m doing enough to be worthy of…being called son, nephew, prince, all of it. I’m so tired of holding myself prisoner.”
Sokka blinked at him, his weary face in the soft moonlight. He leaned forward again to press another kiss to his forehead, and this time Zuko didn’t shy away. “I know what you mean. I do the same thing.” Zuko’s lips parted gently in surprise. “The Water Tribes aren’t exactly the most…forward thinking either. No one will kill you for it but being trans and gay is still very taboo. So as ecstatic as my dad was to have a son, and as supportive as my family is, Katara is the only one who ever let me talk about it, not that I ever did. I was so desperate for his approval that I did everything he said, followed his every lead. Even when that led to some…not great things.” He grimaced at the memories, scowled against his rising shame. “I was terrible to Katara in those years, because she was the girl and I was the boy and everyone taught us growing up that we had natural skills and roles in the world and mine was somehow better. And I wanted that. I wanted to prove myself so badly that I was obsessed with the stupidest things until Suki finally kicked my ass and showed me the light in respecting women.” He smiled, deep and wide. Zuko continued to stare at him in silence, hanging off his every word, something sacred to the trust in his eyes as an encouraging hand settled on Sokka’s knee. “Once I got it out of my head that women and, by extension, femininity, were something to look down on or escape, I was able to explore my own interests and forget about being “manly” and all that. And I learned a lot. Turns out I have great fashion taste, and am now a proud shopaholic and poetry enthusiast, which you’ve already fallen victim to and had to sit through my haikus. And it doesn’t make me any less of a man.”
“I don’t mind it that much - “
“Zuko, you fell asleep. I’m not holding it against you, I’m just asking you to be honest. The point is, I’m not magically cured of my insecurities, no matter how much I’ve grown. I still worry about passing, and what people will think of me if I push the boundaries a little too hard. I mean, just today I was panicking because I thought you might be weirded out by me with the Kyoshi Warriors!” Sokka realised his mistake the moment Zuko’s face dropped, the guilt heavy in his eyes. “Not that it was rational or anything,” he amended quickly, dropping a hand to squeeze Zuko’s own between them, “I just didn’t know what you thought about it and I wanted your approval, I guess, since you mean so much to me.”
Zuko went deathly still, his hand tense under Sokka’s palm and breath coming short. Sokka faltered and searched for the error in his words, any reason for offence. Zuko’s dark gaze bore into his soul, and Sokka felt laid bare.
“You…care about having my approval?” he asked, almost perfectly neutral if it weren’t for how he leaned into Sokka’s palm or tightened his grip on his knee.
“Yeah, of course. You’re my best friend.”
“I - I thought you didn’t care about anyone’s approval.”
“Not just anyone’s, but I do for people I love.”
Sokka felt his face burn as the air caught in his throat, choking too late to stop the words from escaping. Too much, he screamed at himself, You’ve said too much, now he’ll get creeped out and leave.
He watched Zuko process his blunder as if time was slowed, and waited in abject horror for the blow to hit. His brow furrowed, gaze flickering over Sokka’s face and whatever expression of his panic could be seen there, and must have felt his hands turn to stone, against his knuckles, beside his face. His lips parted, silently mouthing the words you love… before he paused, eyes widening. The realisation.
Zuko’s hand was pulled from his own, and Sokka closed his eyes as he let it go, forcing his other hand to relax so that Zuko could slip away from him without difficulty. It was almost alright. They almost made it out of this unscathed, stronger even, before Sokka had to ruin it all with his big mouth and -
Something hit him in the mouth, launching him backwards with the sudden weight of a body pressed against his own, startling his eyes open to a rush of dark hair. Zuko wound his arms around his neck so that Sokka didn’t split his head open on the roof tiles, and Sokka only realised the pressure against his lips was Zuko’s lips when the hangnail on his thumb brushed his own face from resting on Zuko’s cheek.
Zuko was kissing him.
Oh, he thought, oh.
Zuko was warm. Sokka knew that, but now he was impossibly so, his body heat radiating through both their clothes to seep into Sokka's flesh, his thighs, his chest, his face, his fingertips, scalding his skin like a hot shower just on the right side of burning, melting away his stress in a wonderful wave of heat. Zuko kissed him - Zuko was kissing him - like a man depraved, clutching him closer and closer until Sokka could feel every line and divet on his lips, where the skin was dry and cracked, where it turned wet and soft on the path to his mouth. Sokka was being kissed half out of his mind, and all he could think was oh, wow.
Zuko pulled back as quickly as he dove in, cold air rushing in to occupy the space he left and smacking Sokka in the face. He blinked his eyes open in surprise, forgetting he even closed them, and looked up from where he lay splayed out on the roof to see Zuko sitting upright over him, still kneeling over his hips. For a moment there was no sound but their panting, chests heaving at the sudden burst of intimacy, before Sokka caught sight of Zuko's face. His lips were kissed full and red, but his eyes were wide and horrified as he stared at Sokka.
"I'm so sorry," he exclaimed before Sokka could ask him what the matter was, waving his hands between them as if to dispel the last few minutes from reality, "Agni, Sokka, I shouldn't have done that, I know that's not what you meant and I've probably ruined everything but I - I'm sorry."
He moved as if to stand and back away, clambering to escape, but Sokka's hand shot out to grab his wrist before he could even think about it. He pushed upright in an incredible display of core strength he didn't have, suddenly chest to chest with Zuko, and barely processed his surprised face before he flung an arm around his waist and was kissing him again.
Zuko let a startled noise escape into his mouth, completely tense in Sokka's arms, but he was warm and sweet and Sokka loved him, and if he didn't fix this now nothing would ever be stable between them again. So he kissed him and kissed him and held him close, feeling the pulse leap in Zuko's wrist and guiding him into it with a hand on the small of his back, and the Spirits sang when hands brushed over Sokka's shoulders to hold him once more, and Zuko kissed him back.
Sokka liked to think he was rational, a scientist, an engineer who believed only in the facts of the world. But Zuko kissed him and the stars aligned above them, the universe falling into place, and nothing mattered at all.
When they parted again it was slow and gentle like the natural flow of the tide. Their movements steadied and came to a drawn-out stop, their lips retreating barely an inch from one another. Sokka chased him anyway, stealing one last peck and left their foreheads leaning together. He listened to the pattern of Zuko's breathing, feeling the warm exhale on his cheek, and took his time opening his eyes.
Zuko was already staring at him, the shadowed gold consuming Sokka's vision. He watched the pupil dilate at his gaze, and grinned, wide and all-consuming.
"I've wanted to do that for ages," he confessed, pulling Zuko closer until he was practically sitting in his lap and letting go of his wrist to wrap his other arm around his waist.
Zuko turned a lovely red, his eyes sparkling as a nervous smile matched Sokka's own. "Yeah, me too. I never thought you would, though."
"Are you kidding me? Look at you!" He nudged Zuko's nose with his own and squeezed his sides gently to emphasise his point. Zuko faltered, his blush creeping down his neck. "I've literally been in love with you for years."
"Don't be ridiculous. You couldn't have - I would have noticed - one of us would've said something and you had all those girlfriends -"
"That I broke up with because they weren't you." He pressed a kiss to his scarred cheek, below his eye and let himself linger there a moment. "I just…didn't know what I wanted. And now I have it."
"I don't believe you," Zuko said stubbornly, turning his head to nose along Sokka's hairline as if it was an act of defiance.
Sokka smirked. "I can prove it to you, if you want."
Zuko pulled back to eye Sokka critically, scowling in suspicion like Sokka hadn't already kissed him tonight. Sokka put up a facade of complete innocence, and eventually Zuko softened. "So you actually…like me?"
"I feel a lot more than like for you, Zuko," he said, and meant every word, "I have long before I even realised it."
Zuko continued to watch him as if any moment Sokka would laugh in his face and reveal the whole thing as a joke, but then he slowly brought his hand back to brush the hair out of Sokka's face, tucking it neatly behind his ear with a sense of reverence. "Ok," he said at last, still looking stoic, "OK, I - I believe you."
Sokka could tell he didn't, and set out to rectify that fact with enthusiasm. For quite a while.
*************
"I could paint your nails," he offered softly, his lips bruised and tingling from Zuko's attention, his head resting heavily on the roof tiles while he turned to look at Zuko beside him as they lay together despite the pain in his neck. How they ended up splayed out and stargazing in between making out he wasn't sure, but a lot of things slipped his notice when Zuko was kissing him. All he knew was that he came away gasping for breath after Spirits knew how long enjoying himself, and there they were. "That's one of the ways I started getting into it, in my daily life. I'm not that great at it but it's nice."
"I'm not sure." Zuko was on his side, facing Sokka with his head resting on his bent arm. There would be crease marks pressed into his cheek when he moved from his rumpled sleeve. Sokka smiled at the thought. "What if someone - sees?"
"We can do a neutral colour. No one will notice except us, and it helps knowing it's there. Give you more confidence. Besides, you're the Fire Lord. What are they gonna do, laugh at you? Last week a maid cried because you frowned after she gave you your food."
"I know, it was awful. But that's not the point. They'll never say anything to my face but that doesn't mean they're not judging me."
"Being confident isn't about no one judging you. It's doing your own thing and knowing it doesn't matter if people judge you." He plucked Zuko's hand from where it lay between them and pressed his lips to the back and laced their fingers together. Zuko's lips twitched to smile. "I get that your public image is important and all, and you're worried about going too far since you're already making so many changes, but you're allowed to do things for yourself too. You can be happy and a good leader at the same time."
Zuko sighed, his brow pinching together in thought. "OK. You're right, I need to actually - try to be comfortable with my gender or I'll be miserable forever. Which I’m told is a bad thing."
"And I'm very proud of you for it. Maybe we can work our way up. Start with clear, then neutrals and then maybe a Fire Nation red. You could start a trend."
Zuko scowled, but there wasn't any heat behind it.
"What? We can just pass it off as another form of nationalism. Or maybe black, to match your sunny personality." He grinned, squeezing Zuko's fingers. "Or a Water Tribe blue, and I can have the red."
Zuko's eyes widened, and Sokka wondered through his tired mind what he said to warrant such a reaction. He almost took it back, before Zuko squeezed his hand in return and seemed to melt into a breathtaking smile. "Yeah, we can do that," he said, and leaned over to kiss him again under the starlight.