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#zukka fic
andrea-lyn · 7 months
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It's a classic plan -- if Sokka and Zuko aren't married by the time they both turn thirty, they'll marry each other. It's one of Sokka's best plans, even if it's only meant to be a back-up. Most people don't spend their time making sure that the other person doesn't get married until the plan comes due, but most people are not Fire Lord Zuko.
Based on the below post even if "rivals" might be an outdated description of their relationship given that they're, you know, stupid in love with each other:
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erisenyo · 3 months
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“Oh fuck oh FUCK” + Zukka please!
For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (And this one too lol)
Zuko isn’t sure what posses him to actually say yes when the last hotel calls back to regretfully confirm that there will be no vacancies tonight and the cute mechanic lets up the truly over-the-top flirting to half-shyly offer Zuko a place to stay that night—
“Well, not my house,” Sokka—not Hakoda, going by the wince when Zuko had called him that, even though that’s what’s embroidered over his pocket—says, tugging on his wolf tail, “It’s my dad’s house. But he’s away!” Sokka says, excited and quickly tacking on when he seems to hear himself, “He’s helping out my Gran Gran! So I’m house-sitting! And keeping this place going—”
He waves a hand around the auto shop, making Zuko intensely curious about what Sokka does if not this all the time. He looks good in those overalls...
Not that Zuko has the chance to ask.
“—and so don’t worry, there’s plenty of space. I’m not suggesting you stay in my room—or, well, actually it is my room, but from when I was a kid, not you know, my room. I don’t live there anymore—”
Zuko wonders where he does live, if it’s close to the band’s recording studio, or any of their homes, and Ty Lee is always renting apartments all over the place maybe Zuko could—
“—but it’s still a totally good room still, like quiet but not creepily so, you know? And you can stay there. Or not! Absolutely no pressure, like obviously if you want to keep calling hotels or I mean I guess we could make up the couch in the office, though I wouldn’t recommend it," Sokka adds, frowning at the couch in question. "You end up with this really weird crick in your—”
“Yes,” Zuko interrupts, "Yes, a place to say would be great," he says, putting Sokka out of his misery. Even though he’s been enjoying the rambling train of Sokka’s thoughts all day, and he really shouldn’t impose, and Zuko might feel comfortable after so many hours of Sokka trying to figure out Zuko’s car but he doesn’t actually know the guy, and—
Sokka breaks into a grin, wide and pleased and clearly delighted and Zuko’s stomach flips the way it’s been doing all day and right. Right. That. That’s why Zuko said yes, even though he knows it’s stupid, even though it would be easier to just ask for the guy’s number even if as a rule Zuko doesn’t give out his own. Even though Mai would take one look at Sokka and give Zuko one of those knowing looks of hers and he hates being so predictable but shit, this guy is such his type.
Which means he’s not disappointed when Sokka says, “Awesome, dude! We can grab burritos on the way back!”
Dude.
And burritos.
But Zuko’s not disappointed, he’s not. He’s…relieved. To have a place to stay tonight that’s not a dubious-looking couch, or the back of his own barely-fits-two-people car. And to not be recognized—not that he ever is—because the last thing he needs on top of his car breaking down in the middle of nowhere, meaning he’s absolutely going to miss his flight—shit, Uncle is going to be so disappointed…—is to be dealing with fans.
Pestering him for info about the rest of the Dangerous Ladies, or trying to sniff out rumors about the relationships they’re all convinced are happening within the band, or hating him for breaking Mai’s heart as if it wasn’t mutual and years ago anyway. and they’re still in the band so clearly it’s fine, Mai didn’t even write that song, and—
And it’s fine. Zuko doesn’t even know what he was worried about in the first place. For someone with a massive facial scar, he's proven shockingly unrecognizable without a flaming guitar in his hands. Which is fine. Exactly how he likes it.
So what if he almost never gets his own posters of magazine covers? So what if he's tucked off to the side or in the back of all the official merch and the band has a running collection of all the albums and magazine covers and t-shirts that inexplicably end up with a price sticker over his and only his face?
It’s better than getting mobbed every time he leaves the house like Azula and getting pelted with rumors like Ty Lee and having his every expression scrutinized like Mai. It's better than having every outfit analyzed and every tilt of his head breathlessly redescribed and every photo and appearance and sighting on the street turned into screenshots and phone backgrounds and gif sets and spank bank material, better than everyone he meets tripping to fall into his bed and—
Really. It’s better.
“Here it is, the humble abode!” Sokka gives Zuko an uncertain flash of a smile as holds open the door, like he thinks someone who drives a Porsche so tricked out Sokka had had to psych himself up to actually touch it is going to judge a well-loved ranch house, which…well. Maybe isn’t such a bad assumption.
Zuko hastily makes sure his expression is set into something attentive and interested, his June is talking face, as Azula calls it.
“You’ve got your kitchen here,” Sokka says, flicking on a light to show the worn, comfortable-looking space. “Glasses are over the sink, snacks are in the fridge and in the tall cabinet if you need anything. There’s some leftovers in the freezer you can reheat, too, if you want. Oven, microwave, all the good stuff, you just, you know. Hit the buttons, and—”
And Sokka is clearly back to nervous rambling, because Zuko doesn’t think he’s going to need to eat for the rest of the week after finishing that burrito. A fucking burrito. Ugh, if there’s ever a less sexy food, and then to eat so much of it nervously pacing Sokka that Zuko actually contemplated whether he could subtly unbutton his jeans in the car…
“…and the bedrooms are this way, and the bathroom—it’s shared, sorry,” Sokka adds, glancing back to give Zuko an apologetic look. Zuko hastily jerks his eyes up off Sokka’s ass. “Probably not what you’re used to, I know. But it’s just you and me, so it won’t be too bad!”
“It’s perfect,” Zuko says, trying for a smile and blinking when Sokka just coughs, a blush staining his cheeks as he quickly gets back to his tour.
“Extra blankets and stuff are here,” Sokka says, rapping on a closed door. “Towels, pillows, the works. There should be some extra shampoo and soap and stuff in there too, if you need it.”
“Sounds like you have everything covered,” Zuko says, hearing the awkward edge of his words but still trying to reach for some of the joking, playful easiness of earlier today. “Quite the full-service auto shop you’re running.”
“Uh…yeah.” Sokka freezes a little, eyes wide, which…great. Zuko isn’t surprised he missed the mark, but still. He thought he’s at least better these days than when Azula firmly told him he was no longer allowed to speak in interviews until he could be sure he wasn’t going to end up in another bloopers reel.
“Anyway!” Sokka finally says, shaking himself, his voice coming out suddenly squeaky, which— “Here’s your room, have a good night, make yourself comfy I’ll seeyoutomorrow!”
Zuko blinks again, nonplussed. Did Sokka just...run away? In his own home?
"That's that then," Zuko sighs ruefully—the flirting had been so outrageous that Zuko couldn’t quite believe it was actually real, so—giving the closed door Sokka had disappeared behind one last look before slipping into his room.
Which is very much a teenager’s room, holy—Zuko nearly laughs as he realizes why Sokka was so quick to make that clear. And a well-lived in one, at that, LEGOs on the shelves and cheap trophies for science fairs lined up across the dresser, half-faded posters and clipped-out pictures tacked over the walls and old art supplies still scattered over the desk.
It's cluttered and eclectic and...cute. Cute in the same way Sokka is cute, and he’d probably hate being called that which just makes Zuko want to do it even more, Zuko’s lips curled again into the little smile he feels like he's been wearing all day as he sprawls back on the neatly-made twin bed and immediately makes eye contact with himself.
On the ceiling.
Shirtless.
Life-sized.
Zuko’s mind immediately supplies the details—that Rolling Stones cover shoot for their third album, right before Zuko had turned twenty, when he was still somehow managing to keep up his martial arts training because who needed sleep, definitely not him. He and Ty Lee had been goofing off while Mai and Azula got their makeup finished, flexing their muscles and trying to out-flexible each other and the photographer had loved it and had them run with it, who could pose the most creatively with the most outrageously flexed muscles and —
Zuko slowly closes his mouth and rapidly reconsiders that whole ‘not recognized’ thing...
--
Sokka is giving his teeth the most thorough, most frustrated brush of his life—ugh, burritos. Why did he suggest burritos—when he nearly chokes on his toothpaste as he suddenly realizes that he just put Zuko Hua in his— “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.”
Oh…fuck.
Katara is never going to let him live this down.
He is so, so fucked.
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zukkaflowers · 1 year
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zuko going to a doctor because he thinks he’s allergic to something. at random, he gets light headed and out of breath and his heart starts racing. a few appointments go by and he narrows it down. maybe it’s sokka’s cologne? whenever zuko gets a whiff of that, it’s all over for the rest of that day. the doctor is sitting there nodding like i can’t believe i’m getting paid to listen to a grown man gush about his crush
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petricorah · 9 months
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zukka ficlet - knee pain 1.6k
“Bleeding hog monkeys,” Sokka cursed through gritted teeth as the leather strap on his knee brace finally snapped off. It had been weakened in their last fight with Fire Nation stragglers. A few groups were less than excited about the new fire lord’s orders—aka, to stop the attempt at world domination—and had finally decided to fight back. The gaang had been traveling the past few months to subdue them. Sokka insisted he was going to help, even though his knee, still wounded from falling during their fight with the airships, wasn’t as agreeable than his mind. Putting aside his slight lack of speed and faulty reactions in battle, it was causing him insurmountable pain. He had engineered a knee brace to help, and it had reduced the stress on his joints and allowed him to fight closer to his previous abilities, but the brace was now nothing more than a tattered mess of singed leather and half melted buckles.
Sokka balled up the frayed array of straps and chuckled it into the river he was sitting next to—an action that sent pain clambering up his leg, and making him yelp with a certain high pitched sound that certainly wasn’t manly.
“Sokka?”
Sokka immediately flinched into upright position. “Z-Zuko,” he chirped, attempting to casually lean against the rock he was standing near as Zuko emerged from the woods. “Fire Lord Zuko. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Zuko rolled his eyes and walked up. “I told you to stop calling me that." He came to a stop in front of him, and Sokka couldn't help but admire him. His hair was getting even longer now, and it suited him.
It had been quite some time since the coronation. Lots of time together, working to undo the damage his father had done. Both by his side in the fire nation as his ambassador, and now, traveling again. So much had changed, and while he certainly looked more regal now, with his long hair and patterned robes, he still made Sokka's heart race like he had at boiling rock all that time ago. Perhaps even more so, as they'd continued to get closer as they worked—
"Dinner’s almost gone, and you weren’t back yet.” A teasing smile played at Zuko's lips, despite his attempts to appear stoic and wise. “I thought you were stuck in a hole.”
“Hey!” Sokka said, with an accusing wave of his finger. “You weren’t there for that.”
“Toph told me,” Zuko said. “Several times.”
Sokka clicked his tongue in embarrassment, feeling his cheeks warm. Damn Toph. In an attempt to make up for her and Zuko’s lack of a life-changing bonding trip, she’d taken to telling any story that made Zuko laugh—and most of those tended to be at Sokka’s expense.
“But I see you’re above ground,” Zuko said, his golden eyes passing over Sokka, seeming to glow in the dim light. “And in one piece. So what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Sokka said with a fake lofty air.  
“You’re missing dinner,” Zuko said. “And it’s pig hen, your favorite.”
He never could get anything past him.
Sokka sighed in defeat and blew air to move a strand of hair from his face. “My knee hurts. I was trying to fix the brace, and I couldn’t, so it’s going to hurt more until I can get materials to make a new one.”
“You told Katara it didn’t hurt.” The words came in Zuko’s standoffish deadpan. Sometimes it was hard to tell when Zuko was just stating a fact in his rough voice or when he was being belligerent.
“Yeah, well. She’s having fun with Aang tonight. They’re all gross and obnoxiously lovey-dovey.” His looked away, at anything other than Zuko’s intense expression. Maybe if he studied the ants on the ground enough it would teleport him out of this conversation. “I’m not going to ruin that by making her bend water over my knee for an hour and then be all worried after.” He shook his head, and then met Zuko’s eyes again with what he hoped was a convincing smile. “It’s fine.”
Zuko’s stare was unnervingly sharp. Deadly. It was similar to the look he used to give them when they were about to fight, or the look he gave conniving fire lord generals who were faithful to his father’s old ways. Like he was really fucking angry and the only thing stopping him from setting things ablaze was Iroh’s voice in his head telling him to breathe.
But in an instant, it was gone.
“I’ll do it,” Zuko said curtly.
Sokka snorted. “You’ll do what?”
“I’ll work on your knee.”
“Yeah, thanks, but I don’t need my skin melted. When I do, I’ll give you a call.”
“Pain relief,” Zuko corrected, glaring at him like it should have been obvious that Zuko wasn't suggesting amputation by agonizing flame. “I’ve been…working on it. Uncle said the elements can learn from each other, so I figured there must be a way. I know your knee has been hurting so…I’ve been practicing.” He nervously rubbed the back of his hair. “It will help. Make it feel better, if only for a bit.”
Sokka blinked, staring at him with wide eyes. Zuko did all that for him? For him?
But Zuko’s pointed gaze snapped back to him, making Sokka’s heart flinch.
“It isn’t a choice. Either you do it with me or you ask Katara.” He stalked forward, almost threateningly, making Sokka take a half step back. “It would have been in a better place by now if you had rested at first. You can’t keep hurting yourself and pretending like it doesn’t matter—”
“Okay,” Sokka said, putting his hands up with a gentle laugh. Only Zuko would show he cared by trying to intimidate Sokka into taking care of himself. “Okay, we’ll do it.” He snorted, trying to offset the real emotions he was feeling with a joke. “What am I gonna do, run away from you?”
Zuko’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not funny.”
Sokka blinked. Maybe it would have been funnier if he hadn’t landed on his bad knee after saving Zuko from an arrow, but that was neither here nor there.
So he gave in and sat down, awkwardly, not knowing exactly how to react at what was about to happen.
Zuko knelt in front of him, which was already an image that made Sokka’s head spin, and then he rolled up Sokka’s pant leg, making Sokka’s entire body tense in embarrassment. But he didn’t stop him. He was just relieved that Zuko was so concentrated on his knee that he wasn’t noticing how much Sokka was blushing.
Zuko did a small motion with his hand, and flames erupted from his palm. But he concentrated, his eyes narrowed, and the bright orange fire subsided into a snaking ring that began to spin, controlled and glowing. It almost…moved like water.
Zuko placed it above Sokka’s knee, enough so the warmth radiated across his skin but didn’t burn.
Sometimes Sokka couldn’t fathom it. That someone he used to hate, sometimes even fear, was now someone he trusted so completely he’d allow him to not only bend next to him, but use it to help him, now, when he was vulnerable.
The heat was intense. Not unpleasant, but intense. Almost like it was blocking out the pain as it radiated up his leg, settling in his chest.
He let out a sigh, slowly settling into the position as the tension seeped from his shoulders. He hadn’t felt this painless in…a long time.
“I…I never did say thank you,” Zuko murmured. Zuko’s lashes were long, eyes downcast as he worked the flames under his hands. “For earlier.”
“You better not be doing this because you feel guilty,” he said. “Because I’ve saved your life about a hundred times by now. With that logic, you’ll be doing me favors until we’re both old men.”
Zuko chuckled. It was a low, good sound. A sound that made Sokka feel like he won a prize every time he earned it. A sound that made Sokka want to drop everything else and just focus on making Zuko smile.
“Gladly,” Zuko said with a low smile. “I’d do pretty much anything for you, Sokka.”
Sokka stilled, everything else fading from his view as he met Zuko’s golden eyes.
“But I’m not doing this out of guilt,” he continued. The heat pressed on, and the pain was gone from his mind. “I’m doing this so you don’t stubbornly give yourself chronic pain. Because I care about your knee,” he said. The flames dimmed, but his hand still glowed, and he slowly placed his palm against his knee. Sokka could feel the heat, and his heart was squeezing in his chest—
“And I care about you.”
His hand was still there. It was a marvel that Sokka’s brain was still functioning enough to form the thought that Zuko’s hand was on his knee as he stared up at him, saying that he cared about him.
Now. He should tell him he loves him now, right now, before he lost his nerve, again—
“Zuko, I…”
“We should get back,” Zuko said with a breeziness that Aang would have been proud of, and Sokka felt a rush of cold air as Zuko’s hand left him. Zuko stood, brushing himself off.
Sokka’s stomach dropped with a mixture of alarm and disappointment as the moment went up in smoke before his eyes. “Thanks,” he managed to blurt out.
“No problem,” he said. “Just one of the hundred of favors I owe you, right?”
“Right,” Sokka said in a faint voice. He let out a nervous, bubbling laugh. “We’ll have to grow old together just so you have time to make it all even.”
“Wouldn’t want it any other way.” Zuko smiled warmly. Of course it was warm. Everything about Zuko was warm.
Spirits. This would be the death of him, wouldn’t it? Loving this man who was so dense he would never catch onto any of Sokka’s flirting, and being so helplessly and terrifyingly in love he’d rather take an arrow to the heart than risk ruining their friendship? Was this just his fate now?
He stood, and subsequently staggered, his legs wobbly from a reason completely different than the pain from earlier, but Zuko steadied him. His warm hands holding his arm, the other on the small of his back, and he was so close that Sokka could smell the scent of smoke that followed him.
“You good?” Zuko’s voice was tinged with concern, sparking in his ear. “Is it still in pain?”
“No,” Sokka said quickly. “Just getting…used to it. It feels better. It feels great. I-I can’t wait for you to do it again.” Please.
Zuko blinked, some unreadable shock in his eyes at the words that had just tumbled from Sokka’s mouth, but his smile twitched onto his face. “I’m glad it worked,” he said. “And I can carry you. If it helps.”
Sokka’s face lit up in a blush and he smacked Zuko’s chest. “I do not need you to carry me.” I certainly couldn’t handle you carrying me. “Just…this. This is enough.”
Zuko readjusted, allowing Sokka to hold onto his forearm, the two slowly making their way back to camp. The pain from his knee was distant as he talked to Zuko about the earlier battles, relishing in ever laugh that he got.
Yeah.
This would be enough.
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zukkaart · 17 days
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Is it tacky to post comments? I haven’t been on tumblr or Ao3 long enough to know. Nevertheless I wanted to put this one here bc it made my entire week
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I’ll forgive the “sir” bc the rest of the comment made me laugh lolol
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ranilla-bean · 2 months
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here's my entry for @avatar-year-of-the-dragon, day 3 (masquerade)! happy new year everyone and hope u enjoy this AGGRESSIVELY diaspora fic <3 祝大家步步高升!
The Guy grunted. He screwed up his face against Sydney’s summer sun streaming in through the window, pressed his palms to his eyes, and then shook out his hair. His eyes blinked open, slow mo, lashes batting. “Oh hey, so you’re Zuko?” He yawned, then grinned. He had a fucking accent. Zuko was gonna bite something apart. “I’m Sokka. I’ll be the top to your lion bottom.”
Sifu Piandao has called in an old student of his to help pull this year’s lion dance together, after Zuko’s usual partner Aang took off to “find himself” in Nepal. Zuko’s worked with Piandao for years, he’s a professional. No matter how annoying the new guy is, he’s going to keep it together for the sake of the festivities, and not at all get distracted by his partner’s… assets.
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liefstevicky · 8 months
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Zukka modern AU where they all work at an ice rink:
- Zuko and Azula have been ice skating their entire lives and have done a lot of competitions as children
- after the scar thing Zuko and his uncle moved and Iroh reconnected with an old friend who owns the ice rink (Piandao)
- now he sells tea there and Zuko teaches kids how to skate
- Katara is manager of this whole mess because I can't really imagine her on skates but I very well think she was born with a clipboard
- Sokka is part of the college hockey team that trains there (defence)
- Mai and Ty Lee are defying gender norms and do ice dancing together (slay)
- Suki and Toph are playing hockey for fun because Toph would definitely be a goalie and Suki would scare every single one of the guys on the college hockey team
- Aang is referee and skates for fun
- Jet is the weird kid that hands out the renting skates
- anyways, Zuko has too many kids in his class so Katara signs Sokka up to help him teach
- they initially clash because Sokka really wants to be Zuko's friend but he comes in a little strong and Zuko is very awkward
- but they eventually manage and Zuko is very impressed with Sokka's teaching skills
- Sokka says: "bitch, hold my hockey stick" one way or another (no you don't get context)
- Sokka really wants to learn ice dancing so Zuko teaches him (or tries)
- Katara takes matchmaking upon herself and arranges a same sex ice dancing competition and Sokka jumps at the chance to skate with Zuko
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kukos-satellite · 18 days
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I’m deprived of my middle aged Klance and Zukka so hand it over, HAND THEM OVER TO ME
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sukidude · 3 months
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I Won't Hold Your Hand (I'm not your excuse to feel human) Chapter 8 IS FINALLY OUT!
Enemies to lovers
Slow Burn
Angst AND Fluff
SOULMATE AU
come on what more do you need people.........................
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jimswaxnose69 · 11 months
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Okay but like where are the fics of sokka defending zuko when someone makes an off handed remark about himself? Where are the fics of zuko defending sokka’s intelligence when someone scoffs at one of his ideas?
Where are the fics where one of the beats the shit out of someone for being a dick to the other???
Please
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icarusalchemist · 9 months
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zukka tumblr: hey you should read this fic about zuko dealing with losing iroh and meeting and falling in love with sokka in the aftermath. also zuko’s a single dad
me, then: yeah that won’t hurt me at all!
me, now: what the fuck [i am crying every chapter]
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thief-of-eggs · 4 months
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another zukka fic for you all, featuring getting together, first kisses, and lots of fluffy softness
words:
summary: 3,066
Sokka kisses him first.
They’re standing in front of the gang’s fire when it happens, the warm glow painting sharp shadows onto Sokka’s face.
He’s handsome, Zuko finds himself thinking. The thought startles him. It stirs an ancient part of his soul that he didn’t know worked anymore, causing his pulse to quicken and his mind to spin.
Now you’re staring, he berates himself. But he finds it harder than he’d expected to look away.
Or: Sokka and Zuko get together, as told by three kisses
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erisenyo · 3 months
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"could you please come and get me?" I'm BEGGING🙏🙏🙏
For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (Andthis one too lol)
(Can be read as a follow-up to this)
“…and, like, everyone goes through phases!”
Hakoda hastily unfolds from his very undignified stretch at the muffled sound of Sokka’s voice, wincing at the protest of his sore back. Bato keeps saying he’s eventually going to value his posterior chain enough to stop taking red eyes no matter how cheap they are, and one day Hakoda is actually going to listen instead of making jokes about posteriors.
“—and sisters, you know? They never let go of anything no matter how old you all get, and they always take things too far—”
Hakoda glances again around the dim lit, tidy shop as if maybe the angle of the sunlight will have changed, vaguely pleased and surprised that Sokka is here so early as the faint jangle of the admittedly-huge keyring filters through the door.
It’s hours past when they usually open, of course, but judging by the timing of Sokka’s late-night-scarfing-down-dinner phone calls, he’s been working plenty past when they usually close.
“—not in a creepy way or anything, obviously. Just a joke. A bad one!”
Not that Hakoda was really worried. And he was right to now really worry! There’s nothing blown up, no scorch marks or tools missing because Sokka really needed a good shearing weapon for his robot-killing robot, no half-deconstructed engines and piling-up repairs because Sokka is sure he’s figured out a way to get more efficiency out of the whole system.
“—and that one is totally new, anyway. I had no idea it was even there! And so, um. High definition.”
Those this Audi sitting in the middle out of the shop, which is very out of place for Wolf Cove to begin with, let alone in Hakoda’s shop…
“And I mean, you know how sisters are!”
Hakoda does have some questions about that.
That Jesk kid better not be involved, or whatever his name was...
“Or—right?” Sokka’s voice is suddenly clear as he finally finds the right key to unlock the office door. “You—maybe? I mean—you—or—”
“Yeah,” a husky, raspy voice cuts in, faintly amused, and Hakoda pauses in surprise as he realizes Sokka isn’t on the phone. “I have a sister.”
Hakoda glances curiously through the office window as Sokka flicks the lights on, bright light illuminating the office and the break room and the car bays one by one, revealing his son—dressed for work, not starving, not injured, good—and the lean, black-on-black clad boy behind him, and Hakoda feels his eyebrow jump up in surprise.
Ah. He recognizes a pretentiously pre-worn designer leather jacket when he sees one. That would be where the car came from, then.
“And,” Sokka hurries on, darting nervously around the office as he wakes up the computer and sets down his coffee and Hakoda’s other eyebrow slides up to join the first. He can recognize Sokka’s cover-his-ass voice anywhere. “It’s not like I would recognize you out of context anyway without, you know. Or with, or—and so, like, it's not like I was being weird or anything, or like, trying to lock you in the basement or something, or—fuck.” Sokka scrubs his hands over his face before pasting on a bright, game smile and marching toward the car bays. “Yeah, I’m just going to stop talki—Dad!”  
“Sokka,” Hakoda greets him, giving the other boy—not a boy, Sokka hates being called a boy, he reminds himself—a curious look. “And…?”
“Oh,” the boy blinks, freezing a little. “Uh—”
“I didn’t realize you were coming back,” Sokka hops in, hurrying over. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to grab a few things from the house, see you and Katara a bit,” Hakoda assures him, reaching out to give Sokka’s shoulder a squeeze and offering a smile to the other boy as he trails Sokka after a moment across the shop floor. “Who’s this?”
“How’s Gran Gran?” Sokka asks as the boy hesitates, mouth half-open.
“She’s doing well, things are coming along,” Hakoda says, cocking his head to get a better look at the boy. He’s definitely familiar—not surprising, with those nearly-gold eyes and scar and the kind of cheekbones that Sokka loves to trip over—but Hakoda can’t quite place… “Are you one of Sokka’s college friends?” Shit, Hakoda should know those. He at least knows it isn’t…what was his name, Tamu? It’s definitely not him…
“Ah, no,” the boy says, shifting on his feet and flicking a quick look to Sokka. “Wh—"
“How long are you back for!” Sokka says over top of him, eyes wide with interest and that’s definitely his cover-his-ass voice again…
“Just a few days,” Hakoda says absently. Is it one of Sokka’s high school band buddies? They used to always be hanging around the basement and crowding into the kitchen. “I haven’t seen around town,” he says slowly, the sense that he knows this kid niggling at the edge of his thoughts.
“…No,” the kid agrees after a beat, equally slow.
“Yeah,” Sokka says quickly, voice coming out high. “He’s not from around here!”  
“This is your car?” Hakoda asks, because the kid might not look much like a trombone players but he does look like a speed demon.
“Uh, yeah,” the kid says, glancing at the sleek red lines where Sokka’s set the Audi out with pride of place dead center in the middle of the shop. “Sorry?”
“Sorry?” Hakoda blinks, momentarily distracted from the nagging familiarity of the kid.
“I broke down,” the kid shrugs, apologetic, and Hakoda can only give him a bemused look.
“It’s what we’re here for,” he says. And they’re certainly going to charge him for it, with a car like that—and Hakoda will be making sure he’s charged. He recognizes that look on Sokka’s face…
“Right!” Sokka says, overly bright. “Car repair!”
“A full-service operation,” the kid murmurs, cutting Sokka a sideways look.
“We strive to be,” Hakoda says proudly, giving Sokka his own curious look as his son chokes a little, blushing. Oh yeah. Hakoda is definitely making sure this kid gets charged.
“Car repairs!” Sokka says loudly, clearly powering through…whatever is going on. “We’ve had a lot of those! Want to—” he glances quickly around. “—the books! Want to see them? Or the—I can get you up to speed?” he suggests half-desperately. “On everything?”
Hakoda makes a vaguely affirming noise, listening with half an ear and mostly watching the kid who is in turn watching Sokka, looking faintly bemused by and more than a little curious about Sokka’s immediate, exhaustive, relieved, highly detailed account of the past month.
Maybe he’s a new teacher in one of Sokka’s art classes? He thought they were all old men by Sokka’s description, but this one seems like an artsy type. Though why he’d be here and not back in Republic City…
The kid gives Sokka another sidelong look through his lashes that really isn’t all that subtle to anyone other than Sokka, and ah, that could be a reason.
And he can tell Sokka likes his friend back from the fidgety, half-nervous, half-hyper way he’s shifting his weight and playing with his bracelets and rings and he better be fucking taking those off before work, Hakoda’s not trying to have anyone lose a damn body part inside an engine. At least the earrings are out…
Hakoda thinks, though, that he really would have heard of the kid if he’s following Sokka cross-country to keep him company. But then, maybe that’s why he has the persistent, nagging sense that he’s met or at least seen this kid befo—
“Oh!” Hakoda suddenly exclaims, snapping his fingers as realization hits. “I know you!”
“You—!” Sokka trips a little as the kid startles, giving Hakoda a half-surprised, half-cagey look. “You should really hear about theorderthatPakkutriedto—”
“You’re the boy from the poster over Sokka’s bed!” Hakoda says, triumphant and Sokka cuts off with a high, strangled noise, the kid opening his mouth and nothing coming out.
“The one where’s he’s all shirtless and oiled up?” Hakoda prompts when Sokka doesn’t say anything, pleased to have placed it. “Remember, you got that fancy photo editing program for it? So you could cut him out of the full shot and enlarge the size? And Bato took you to that special print shop in Whale Harbor to get it done out on the special poster paper?”
The kid slowly transfers his stare from Hakoda to Sokka, who is looking more and more like a deer trying to freeze to avoid the notice of an oncoming car.
“You know, for your eighteenth birthday?” Hakoda reminds him, concern fluttering in his chest when Sokka doesn’t immediately latch onto the topic like he always does. “Because you couldn’t find any magazines big enough to see from that far away?” He definitely isn't misremembering, he knows he isn't...right?
The kid slowly closes his mouth, eyebrow inching up higher and higher.
“And you’d filled up all your wall space, so you needed to move to other surfaces? And Katara said you weren’t allowed to put anything up in the shower?” No, he's definitely right. Hakoda had been quietly and intensely relieved by the shower edict enough to be sure.
“I,” Sokka finally says, mouth working, “I, uh.”
“Didn’t you recognize him?” Hakoda frowns, reaching out to feel Sokka’s forehead.
“Yeah, Sokka,” the kid—shit, Hakoda still doesn’t know his name though—says, pointed, “Didn’t you recognize me?”
“I…need to go now,” Sokka announces, suddenly fumbling in his pockets.
“What?” Hakoda blinks, confusion threading alongside his pleasure at finally placing the face.
“What?” the kid half-laughs, startled.
But Sokka just whips out his phone, already marching away, his face crimson and voice echoing off the high ceilings, “Katara? Yeah, I’m—yeah, I’m still in town. Yes, I know that you're on nights, I—yes, I—look, could you please come and get me?” A pause. “No, I—actually, yes. I need to go die now, please. Not here.”
Hakoda stares after Sokka as he finally shuts the office door behind him, bemused, scratching the back of his head and shifting his attention to the kid who looks like he doesn’t know whether to worry or laugh again.
“Well, I’m Hakoda,” he eventually offers, extending his hand and biting the bullet that it’s okay to not know this one’s name, they probably haven't actually met before, “I’m his father.”
“Zuko,” the kid says after a beat, accepting his handshake—strong grip, callouses, no eye contact but that’s okay considering he’s looking after Sokka. “I’m, uh. The guy from the ceiling?”
Hakoda huffs, half-amused and giving him another quick look—and then his hand a slightly harder squeeze. “Grown up a bit, have you?” A lot less oil, too. And a lot more clothes.
Same cheekbones, though.
“Uh—so has he? Since then?” Zuko hazards, glancing toward the office where Sokka is…screaming into a pillow, by the looks of it.
“One could say that," Hakoda says after a beat, thinking of Sokka’s last trip to Whale Harbor and the poster tube he’d come back with happily cradled in his arms. “But maybe not as much as you’d think.”
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zukkaflowers · 4 months
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middle aged zukka have to share a bed but they lie parallel, untouching, both their minds racing thinking about i’ve loved him for years and years and years it’s too late to do anything; if i move he will know if i touch him he will know if i breathe he will know and. i can’t let him know. if i look at him from this short distance there’s no way he won’t be able to tell in my eyes that he’s the center of my soul. if our hands brush and he hears the hitch in my breath. if we wake and i am curled towards him. maybe he can hear my thoughts; maybe he already knows. maybe he can feel my pounding heart forcing ripples through the mattress. maybe he remembers my blush as the lights went out. maybe he knows and he’s embarrassed. maybe he knows and he’s repulsed.
i can’t let him know.
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petricorah · 4 months
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Sokka was used to the cold.
He’d spent his whole life in it. He was born into frigid and bitter temperatures. He was used to breathing burning crisp air into his lungs, used to walking when he could barely feel his feet, used to sleeping surrounded by ice, and used to the coldness that struck deep into his heart while staring out over the empty tundra. He loved it. Just the feel of winter winds whipping through his hair made his spirits soar, smiling despite the pain of icy gales against his teeth.
And then.
He melted, slowly. Traveling the world had been quite the culture shock, and he had taken some time to adjust to no longer being surrounded by snow, but he grew to love the pleasant lukewarm air and the ability to wear short sleeves. But the firebender was another thing entirely.
Being close to Zuko was as uncomfortable it was so hot. The man’s very skin was a furnace that radiated heat, and somehow, it made Sokka’s own cheeks and chest burn for reasons he didn’t understand for years. But he got used to it. Despite how stubborn he was, Sokka was good at adapting. He was still from the water tribe, after all. Soon, the heat pulsing off of Zuko as they brushed shoulders or fought side by side wasn’t unnatural. It became welcome, especially…
Well. It was purely strategic to put their sleeping bags side by side, because once the campfire died down, laying by Zuko with their shoulders almost touching was the only way to stave off the brisk night air.  
He wasn’t sure when it changed, when the embers of their friendship sparked into something more. They’d travelled the world together, trying to rebuild the world ravaged by the Fire Nation. Zuko refused to stay behind a desk, and Sokka refused to let him go at it alone. And slowly but surely, Sokka forgot what it was like to be cold. What it was like to not have Zuko by his side, to feel his warmth surround him like he was the center of a fire, the comforting lull of heat as he hugged him, that fiery, caring temper, and blazing hot fingers interlaced with his own.
And now, he was back in the Southern Water Tribe.
Alone.
And he has never felt so painfully…cold.
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zukkaart · 9 months
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*late one night waiting for the day of Sozins Comet, Sokka and Zuko are the last two up with the campfire going over the plan one more time*
Sokka: I think that’s it, there’s nothing more we can plan, we just have to do our best and hope that Aang shows up
Zuko: *staring blankly into the fire*
Sokka: Something wrong?
Zuko: Not really… just thinking about the people I left in the fire nation
Sokka: You mean your sister? Your mom?
Zuko: Yeah, but mostly of Mai. I betrayed her and left her behind twice now
Sokka: She saved us from Azula at the boiling rock Zuko, she still loves you, or she wouldn’t have done that. The right person is like that, no matter what you do wrong, they’ll be willing to listen.
Zuko: Like soulmates?
Sokka: Soulmates? What’s that?
Zuko: Well in the fire nation, we have this belief that there is one person meant for you. That across any time or space, no matter what happens, you will end up together because Agni decided it all long before any of us were born.
Sokka: Oh we have something like that in the water tribe, but there’s no word for it. Just a unipkaaqtuat
Zuko: An unip- what?
Sokka: It basically means “story”, I can’t remember how they go now, but you know how it is. One is from a place that hates the other, and they fall in love anyway and basically have to stop a war to be together, we heard a similar story when we were trying to get to Omashu. It’s all cliche really.
Zuko: Why do you say that? I think it’s nice to think about, that there might be someone written for us whatever the circumstances.
Sokka: *staring up at the stars* I believe in free will and science. Not fortune telling. Soulmates are stupid. I love you on purpose
Zuko:…
Zuko: what
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