Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Who the fuck gets married in February in Chicago?”

Sokka growled the words as he dragged his and Zuko’s bags out of the back of their Uber, shoulders raised tight to his ears against the chill. He wasn’t unaccustomed to the cold. Upstate New York wasn’t exactly known for mild winters. But the cold in Chicago, the biting wind and damp, heavy chill, took the air right out of his lungs.

Zuko took his bag, his cheeks flushed red from the touch of the wind, his scarf coming unwound from his neck, with a wry smirk.

“My cousin,” he said. “Apparently my cousin does.”

“I’ll be having words with him,” Sokka groused.

He tucked his neck down into the hood of his jacket and strode for the door, Zuko, laughing, at his heels.

They swept in through the sliding doors, chased by the wind, and found themselves in a sleek hotel lobby. They were in an elegant downtown hotel, a few blocks north of the Chicago River. It was a ritzy area that they never would have been able to afford if the wedding party hadn’t arranged for a block of rooms at a reasonable rate.

Sokka spotted a coffee station immediately.

“Coffee?” He asked.

“Yeah, please,” Zuko said, sounding tired. “I’ll get us checked in.”

Sokka kissed him on the cheek and went to visit the coffee station. He made his own coffee with several creams and sugars, and then made Zuko’s bitter atrocity for him with only a single packet of creamer, tipping a little hazelnut flavored capsule into his boyfriend’s drink. He shuffled back to Zuko, holding both coffees awkwardly in one hand and dragging his suitcase with the other, and joined him just as he gave his name to the woman behind the desk.

“The Sozin-Alvarez wedding?” She asked.

“That’s the one,” Zuko replied.

He took his coffee from Sokka’s outstretched hand and offered him a smile.

They got their room number, their keys, directions to the elevator, the continental breakfast, and the pool. They emerged on their floor and went the wrong way twice in the maze of identical hallways. And when they finally found their room, Sokka immediately flopped back on the bed, spread eagled on the pillowy white comforter.

Zuko crossed to the window, throwing open the curtains to reveal…

A stunning view of the wall of the building next to theirs. Zuko huffed a laugh and shook his head. He hauled his suitcase up onto the bed and started unpacking, taking the carefully folded pieces of his suit from his luggage and hanging it neatly in the closet. Without having to be asked, he did the same with Sokka’s.

Sokka sat up, scooting toward the edge of the bed and reaching for Zuko. Zuko, obligingly, came to stand between his legs. Sokka wrapped his arms around Zuko’s waist, (skinny. still too skinny, despite Aunt Wu’s best efforts), and looked up at his partner.

Zuko smiled down at him. He pushed a few strands that had come loose from Sokka’s wolf tail off of his forehead. They had a way of coming undone anytime he had to put it under a hat.

Sokka was already tired, -it hadn’t been a smooth flight from New York to Chicago- and there was a long evening yet to come. The wedding itself wasn’t until tomorrow, but Zuko was expected at the rehearsal, and the subsequent dinner, that evening.

Sokka let his head fall forward, hitting Zuko’s chest with a muffled “oof.”

“You ok there, beloved?” Zuko asked.

Sokka just made a few protesting noises. Zuko laughed a little and ran his fingers through Sokka’s wolf tail. Brushed his hand over the neatly trimmed hair behind his ear.

Sokka purred.

He felt Zuko’s lips on the top of his head, and Sokka lifted his face to meet his partner’s. They kissed softly, and Sokka let his hands fall lower, toward Zuko’s hips.

Fucking gods his boyfriend was beautiful. And so loving and so passionate and so-

“Sokka,” Zuko laughed his name. “The rehearsal’s in, like, an hour.”

“Mmm I can do a lot with an hour,” Sokka countered, tightening his grip.

“I’m aware,” Zuko said, attempting to wriggle free.

Sokka just closed his arms firmly around Zuko’s middle and tipped back onto the bed again, taking Zuko down with him.

Zuko laughed and wrestled Sokka’s hands off his back. Sokka fought him, but only a little, and in a moment Zuko had his hands pressed to the mattress on either side of his head. Which honestly just made him that much hotter. His legs on either side of Sokka’s hips and his hands pressing Sokka’s wrists against the coverlet and the fringe of his dark hair hanging in his eyes.

Sokka bit his lip.

Zuko kissed him.

Sokka met his lips, his mouth open and hungry. He tried to lift his hands, to reach for Zuko, but Zuko didn’t let him. Sokka growled, a little frustrated and a lot invigorated as Zuko deepened their kiss, his tongue slipping into Sokka’s mouth.

“I thought you didn’t have time for this,” Sokka gasped when they managed to separate.

“I don’t,” Zuko breathed, pressing a featherlight kiss to the line of his jaw.

And he climbed off of Sokka and left him there.

“Hey!” Sokka said, bursting upright. “Not fair!”

Zuko laughed and made for the bathroom, snagging his little bag of toiletries on the way.

Sokka scrambled off the bed, grabbed his ridiculous boyfriend by the shoulder and spun him back for one more kiss, one hand coming up to cradle Zuko’s cheek. They just looked at each other for a breath. And then Zuko leaned into him again. This second kiss was soft. Lingering. It left Sokka a little breathless in an entirely different way.

“Hey. I love you,” he said.

“Love you too,” Zuko replied.

Sokka smiled and finally let him go. Zuko turned, a soft grin of his own coloring his face, and vanished into the bathroom.

Sokka found the cup of coffee he’d left on the table when they walked in. He picked it up and took a swig. He instantly regretted it. It was already starting to go cold and while it was actually kind of ok for hotel coffee, it was still hotel coffee.

“Hey,” Sokka called. “You get dressed. I’ll go find us some real coffee and meet you at the rehearsal.”

“You don’t have to come,” Zuko’s voice echoed from the bathroom. “There’ll be nothing for you to do. It’ll be so boring.”

“I promise I’ll find ways to amuse myself,” he said.

“That’s ominous.”

Sokka just laughed and got changed, swapping out the sweatshirt he’d traveled in for a plaid button down and a soft off-white sweater. He tightened his hair. Then he bundled himself back into his outerwear.

Zuko reappeared, his hair freshly combed and styled and smelling of his better cologne. Sokka smirked.

“God you’re pretty,” he said.

He was rewarded with another of Zuko’s bright smiles, and a light kiss.

“See you down there?” Zuko asked.

“Yeah. See you down there.”

Sokka pulled his hat down over his ears and ventured out into the city.

—

Zuko had been surprised when his cousin asked him to stand in his wedding.

Zuko had always looked up to Lu Ten. Through his teen years, starting almost from the moment he and Azula and Dad had moved out east, Lu Ten had always been around when Zuko needed a friend. And he’d had a lot of need for a friend, in those years.

But Lu Ten was so much older than Zuko. Zuko had always been under the impression that Lu Ten spending time with him was purely an act of kindness. Spending time with his little cousin because said little cousin enjoyed it, or maybe because Uncle asked him to. It wasn’t until they were both adults that Zuko first got an inkling that Lu Ten truly enjoyed spending time with Zuko, the same way Zuko enjoyed time with him.

And then Lu Ten asked Zuko to stand in his wedding. Not as his best man, thank fuck. The last thing Zuko wanted to do was give a speech at the reception. But he was in the wedding party. In a very small wedding party.

And Zuko had to acknowledge that his cousin maybe actually really liked him.

“Zuko!” Uncle was the first to spot him as he slipped into the room.

The space was already set up with chairs and a bunch of the decorations for the ceremony the next day. Iroh met Zuko halfway down the partially constructed aisle and swept him up in a hug. They hadn’t seen one another since Zuko had come down from camp to celebrate the holidays. Instantly, a little of Zuko’s tension bled away.

“Good to see you, my boy,” Uncle said as he finally released him. “How was the flight?”

“Good,” Zuko said.

It had been bumpy as hell, but Zuko didn’t feel like complaining about it.

“Hey! You made it!”

It was Lu Ten that called out, stepping away from his circle of friends and relations to clasp Zuko in an embrace. It was nearly as comforting as one of Uncle’s hugs.

“Seven minutes twenty-two,” Lu Ten said with a proud smile as he released Zuko.

Lu Ten was also a skilled long distance runner, and he and Zuko had a habit of trading their personal best mile times anytime they met, especially if it had gotten faster since the last time they’d seen one another.

Zuko returning smile was a little embarrassed, “Six minutes seventeen.”

Lu Ten’s eyebrows shot up, “fuck, kid! Amazing.”

Ever since moving up near Camp Boomerang, Zuko had been doing his running on hilly mountain roads and paths. The first time he went back to Uncle’s and ran a fast mile on a flat surface, he’d absolutely blown the doors of his previous personal best.

Lu Ten led the way back to the group. He’d been the last to arrive, Zuko realized. Lu Ten’s best man, Raye and her bridesmaids, and all the various parents had already gathered. Azula stood a little off to the side, tuning her violin. He lifted a hand to her in greeting and she gave a brief little wave in return, her focus staying on her instrument.

Azula had flown in the night before, and had spent half the afternoon touring the University of Chicago, one of the multiple law schools that she currently held acceptance offers from. Azula had aced her LSAT with the same ease that she aced everything she did, and currently had Columbia, Yale, and U Chicago all vying for her attendance.

“Hey!” Raye crossed to Zuko and folded him into a hug.

Raye was a wonderful woman, smart and incredibly clever and, dressed in jeans and a long, soft cardigan over a tee shirt bearing a band logo, the most casually dressed at the rehearsal by a wide margin. She was also incredibly short, and Zuko’s returning hug lifted her feet off the floor. Raye had been attending holiday celebrations and family events with Lu Ten for several years, so Zuko knew her well, and liked her a lot. She beamed up at him as he set her back down.

“Mija!” Raye’s mother suddenly beckoned to her

“Sí Mamá?” Raye called back.

Raye’s mother was staring down at her phone, and continued beckoning with one hand while she spoke in a rapid stream of Spanish that Zuko only half followed. Raye shook her head a little bit, rolling her eyes, but she smiled as she did.

“It’s probably another relative getting lost on the bus routes,” she said. She retreated, “so good to see you.”

“Yeah you too,” Zuko said.

“Zuko,” Lu Ten reappeared at his elbow, “have you met Raye’s sister? This is Ella.”

The woman at Lu Ten’s side looked somewhat familiar.

“…once I think?” Zuko replied. “When Uncle and I visited last year?”

“Right! That’s right,” Lu Ten said. “Anyway you two are going to walk together, so get acquainted!”

Zuko held out a hand to her, “hi.”

Ella took it, blushing a little as she did. She was taller than Raye was, and Zuko was grateful that the height difference would be a little less dramatic.

Azula joined the group then, her violin held loosely in one hand. She wrapped the other arm around Zuko in an awkward half hug.

“Hey,” Zuko said.

“Hey,” she said back.

“How was the tour?” He asked, grinning at her.

She brushed a loose strand of hair off of her face, “good.”

Just “good”? It wasn’t at all like Azula to not have a strident opinion on something like her potential future law school. But Raye’s parents began marshaling them all toward the front of the room for the start of the rehearsal, so he didn’t get a chance to ask her about it. He put it out of his mind for the moment.

He stifled a yawn as he followed the others toward the front of the room, hoping Sokka would return quickly with the promised coffees.

—

Sokka was not a child of the city. The walls of skyscrapers on either side of the multi-laned street stood cold and imposing. Or maybe that was just the fault of the bitter winter air.

It also seemed like there was a coffee shop about every ten feet. Sokka dragged his phone from his coat pocket, unlocking it and doing a quick search. There was a shop a few blocks away that at least appeared to be a local chain, rather than a national one.

His hands were already smarting from the cold. He tugged his gloves back on, stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, tucked his chin down into his scarf, and took off.

The coffee shop was bright and warm and boasted a pastry case that would have put even Uncle Iroh’s shop to shame. Sokka ordered an extravagant flavored latte from the list of seasonal specials for himself, a boring normal latte for Zuko, and at the last minute, opted for a pair of pastries as well. Something called a cruffin that looked ridiculous and also heavenly. Sort of like what might happen if a muffin and a croissant had a baby.

A coffee in each hand, awkwardly juggling the paper bag full of unfathomable desserts, Sokka trekked back to the hotel. As he approached the front doors, a familiar face stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“Sokka!” Piandao called in greeting, his face lighting up in a grin.

“Hey!” Sokka said, beaming back.

He hugged Piandao, a little awkwardly, considering he was still holding so much food.

“When did you get in?” He asked.

“Just this afternoon,” Piandao said. “I’m meeting Iroh at the rehearsal.”

“Same,” Sokka said, “but with Zuko.”

He gestured down the block in the direction he’d come

“If you’re after coffee, there’s a place just down that way that seems legit,” Sokka said, hefting the takeaway cups in his hands.

Piandao waved him off, “no, I just stepped outside for some air.”

A brutal gust of wind tore past them. Sokka shivered, and Piandao snuggled a little deeper into his coat, and Sokka eyed him with suspicion. No one just “stepped out for air” when the windchill was in the single digits.

Piandao smirked, blushed a little like a kid caught with contraband, and produced a weed pen from his pocket.

“Piandao!” Sokka burst out.

Piandao shrugged, lifting the little cartridge to his lips. He cocked an eyebrow and offered the pen to Sokka.

Sokka hesitated.

“You’re going to the rehearsal?” Piandao asked.

“Yeah,” Sokka said, unsure where Piandao was going with this.

“We’re going to sit in the back of the room while our partners practice a heteronormative commitment ceremony that we’ll get to watch again tomorrow, and then we’re going to dinner with a bunch of strangers,” Piandao said. “Fortify yourself.”

Sokka handed Piandao one of the coffees so he could take the pen.

When they were done, they both made their way into the little hall where the ceremony would take place the next day. The wedding party milled around the room. Sokka spotted Zuko standing near Iroh, Azula perched a little off to the side with her violin, and picked Lu Ten out of the crowd easily. Sokka had only met Lu Ten once, when he’d visited Iroh over the holidays with his fiancé, but Sokka liked him. Him and his bride-to-be, Raye.

He delivered Zuko his coffee, and retreated to the back row of chairs with Piandao, feeling pleasantly warm and entirely unbothered. He dropped into one of the seats and leaned his elbows on the row in front of him.

The wedding party reviewed placements. Standing arrangements at the altar. Tested the sound system setup. Walked through the opening processional, Azula providing music. Talked through the order of the ceremony.

Zuko had been paired off with Raye’s sister, a bubbly girl a few years older than him who quite clearly found him handsome. Sokka couldn’t fault her for that. He happened to agree.

Iroh kept looking back to where he and Piandao were sitting. More often even than Zuko did. As they came down the aisle again, walking through the closing recessional, Piandao gave Iroh a swift wink and Zuko’s uncle blushed an astonishing shade of red.

“Iroh’s been out here since Sunday helping with the preparations,” Piandao said, by way of explanation. “It’s been a long week.”

Sokka chuckled a little under his breath. He leaned back in his chair as the wedding party opted to run everything one more time.

He hated to admit it sometimes, but Sokka loved weddings. Yeah the traditions were heteronormative and patriarchal, (you didn’t make it out of a friendship with Suki without immediately acquiring a thorough understanding of both terms), but pledging your love to someone? Telling the world publicly that this was a person you adored and treasured and meant to care for for as long as you could? Sokka couldn’t get enough of it.

The small wedding party helped. Sokka had been to weddings where it felt like half the guest list was standing up there framing the altar. Someday, when Sokka got married, he wanted a small wedding party too. A small wedding. Not a big spectacle. Just a party for him and his partner and their friends.

…and the people he wanted standing up there with him someday were predominantly women. Katara. Suki. Probably Toph too. The only guy who immediately made the list was Aang.

Well, if Sokka ever got married and his friendship circle was the same, Suki and Toph and Katara would all absolutely wear groomsmen-style suits if he asked them. He smiled at that mental image. Laughed a little bit to himself.

“What?” Piandao asked.

“Nothing,” Sokka said. Then he added, “an entire wedding party in suits and bow ties, regardless of gender.”

Piandao nodded knowingly and hummed his agreement.

“Do you think you’ll ever get married?” Sokka asked, still watching the rehearsal unfold in front of them. “You and Iroh.”

He realized a breath too late how invasive of a question that was. He hadn’t really meant to ask it aloud. But Iroh and Piandao had been partners for close on a year and a half. And they were so clearly, obviously in love with one another.

Piandao shifted. The chair beneath him creaked.

“Maybe,” Piandao said. “Probably. Eventually. Neither of us really feel like we need to. We know what we are to each other. But eventually… well, we’re not young men, and when something eventually happens to one of us, it’ll be easier if there’s a marriage license to point to.”

Sokka, for a moment, felt almost sober.

“Yeah,” he said. “Fuck I didn’t even think about that.”

Piandao gave him a little smile, “good. Enjoy being young.”

Sokka smiled back, moving to cross one leg over the other. He almost kicked the little bag of pastries on the adjacent seat as he did.

“Oh!” He reached for the bag. “I almost forgot. I got these for me and Zuko but… do you want a cruffin?”

“…What the fuck is a cruffin?”

“I dunno. Let’s find out.”

He was, as it turned out, exactly the proper level of stoned to enjoy the fuck out of a cruffin.

—

The wedding party was small enough that even partners like Sokka and Piandao were invited to the dinner following the rehearsal.

They ate at the little restaurant inside the hotel, in a room off the main dining area with a long table set for seventeen: Lu Ten and Raye, Raye’s two bridesmaids with their partners, Zuko and Sokka, Lu Ten’s best man with his wife, three sets of parents and their accompanying partners, (since Lu Ten’s were divorced), and Azula, who sat alone.

They were given little prix fixe menus, told to select items for three courses, and were given free rein to order off the cocktail menus and wine lists. Sokka ordered an extravagant sounding cocktail with elderflower liqueur and prosecco, and spent far too long deciding what he wanted for his appetizer.

“This is insane,” he said to Zuko, hushed so Lu Ten wouldn’t overhear. “How on earth are they treating us to this on top of this whole fancy wedding.”

“Lu Ten’s an engineer and Raye’s a lawyer,” Zuko whispered back with a shrug. “They’re set.”

Sokka finally settled on a winter squash soup for his appetizer. He drank his bubbly cocktail very fast, and when his main course arrived (a beautiful cut of steak with roasted brussels sprouts), he ordered a glass of whatever wine Piandao was drinking. Piandao had also picked the steak, and his wine pairing recommendations were always on point.

Zuko had opted for the roasted half chicken with asparagus spears. Sokka snuck one of the stalks of asparagus off his plate, and Zuko countered by stealing two of Sokka’s sprouts.

He’d gone rather quiet. Half of the people around the table were Zuko’s family, but the other half were people he barely knew. Sokka recognized the signs of Zuko retreating into himself and reached out to take his hand on the tabletop. Zuko looked sideways at him and gave him a little smile.

And it must have steadied him, because when dessert and coffee began to make the rounds (chocolate mousse topped with fresh cream and a raspberry sauce that Sokka could have eaten on its own by the spoonful), and all the little rehearsal dinner toasts began, Zuko picked up his drink and stood. Glasses all around the table rang as partygoers tapped silverware against them, as they’d done for every speech so far. Sokka tapped his spoon against his empty cocktail glass as soundly as he dared.

“Thanks,” Zuko said, with a small smile, as the clattering quieted.

“Yeaaaaah Zuko!” The best man, a little buzzed, called encouragingly.

Zuko smirked again, cleared his throat, and lifted his drink. Sokka made eye contact with Iroh across the table for a moment, and then they both looked back up at Zuko.

“To Lu Ten and Raye,” Zuko said. “I’m…truly very grateful you invited me to be part of this with you.”

Lu Ten took his partner’s hand and kissed it. They smiled first at each other, and then back up at Zuko.

“Some of you might not know this,” Zuko said, addressing Raye’s side of the table as he did, “but my teen years were…challenging.”

Sokka smothered an indignant snort. That was a hell of an understatement and Sokka didn’t even know all the details, only what Zuko or Iroh had managed to share with him.

“And Lu Ten was…there for me,” Zuko went on. He turned and spoke directly to his cousin, “and I can’t thank you enough for that. And I-”

Zuko faltered a little. Sokka reached for his free hand, and Zuko took it.

“And being able to be here with you all right now,” Zuko added, “celebrating? This is what makes everything worth it. Being happy.”

Zuko’s hand tightened around Sokka’s.

“And seeing the people you care about be happy,” Zuko finished. “I’m…really happy that you’re both so happy. …And I’ve said the word happy way too many times.”

Zuko laughed a little, and matching chuckles rippled around the table. Zuko lifted his drink.

“You both deserve the best,” he said.

The sentiment was echoed, and everyone drank. Sokka drained his wine glass. He pulled Zuko’s hand into his lap as he sat back down. Zuko leaned in to him, and Sokka pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Coffees and desserts were savored, a final round of cocktails were ordered, and the comfortable chatter might have lingered long into the night had Iroh not finally clapped his hands, causing everyone at the table to turn to him.

“All right youngbloods,” he said with a smirk, “big day tomorrow.”

Sokka finished the last of his coffee, tossed his cloth napkin on the table, and rose. He accepted hugs from both Iroh and Piandao while Zuko checked in with Azula and with Lu Ten.

He held his hand out to Zuko, who took it, and they began the trek back to their room. This time, they only turned the wrong way in the identical hallways once.

The room, when they returned to it, was still chilly. Sokka mumbled a curse and immediately started monkeying with the thermostat. By the time he got it functioning the way the spirits intended, finally receiving a burst of warm air from its unforgiving depths, Zuko was already halfway into his pajamas.

He turned just in time to see Zuko drag a hooded sweatshirt over his head. Sokka smiled. It was the hoodie Sokka had given Zuko when they’d first gotten together that summer: his old Toronto Maple Leafs sweatshirt.

His dad had gotten him that sweatshirt. He’d bought it for him the summer after he finished high school, on their road trip to Niagara Falls and Toronto. Sokka loved that sweatshirt. And he’d given it to Zuko without a second thought.

Tui and La he’d been all the way gone for Zuko right from the get go hadn’t he?

“Your toast was great,” Sokka said, shrugging out of his sweater and dragging his pajamas from his open suitcase.

Zuko made a little disgruntled noise.

“What?” Sokka said, wrestling his arms through the sleeves of his shirt. “It was good.”

Zuko just scrunched up his face and shook his head.

Sokka knew that look. He crossed the room. Slipped his hand into Zuko’s.

“What is it?” He asked.

“It’s just… all of this,” Zuko said, suddenly sounding very tired.

“Yeah weddings are a lot,” Sokka said with a chuckle.

Zuko shook his head, “It’s traditions designed for straight couples back from when women were basically property.”

Sokka leaned against Zuko’s shoulder.

“It’s making promises to the person you love too,” he said.

“It’s a big expensive party where you make promises that no one actually keeps, and celebrate something that won’t actually last,” Zuko growled.

That gave Sokka pause.

He ran his hand across the small of Zuko’s back, “do you really think that?”

Zuko thought about it.

“Maybe?” He said at length. “Have you ever seen a marriage that ended any other way? A happy one?”

Sokka hesitated. He understood where Zuko was coming from. Zuko’s parents were divorced. His Uncle was divorced. Sokka didn’t know any stories about Zuko’s grandparents, but he doubted that they were beacons of marital bliss.

Gran Gran was divorced. She’d divorced her husband, his Dad’s dad, when Hakoda was young. Sokka had never met him.

But his parents had been in love. Sokka had been so young when they lost Mom, so he couldn’t be sure, but he liked to think they would have been happy forever if they’d had the chance.

“I’m happy for Lu Ten,” Zuko said, letting the question go unanswered. “I really am. He loves Raye. I know that.”

Sokka pressed another kiss to Zuko’s cheek.

“Then that’s what we’re celebrating,” Sokka said. “We’re celebrating how much they love each other right now.”

And if that wasn’t worth celebrating, what was?

A little smile flitted across Zuko’s face.

“Come on,” Sokka said. He tugged lightly on Zuko’s hand and repeated Iroh’s reminder from earlier, “big day tomorrow.”

Zuko let out a sigh, but he gave him another small smile and followed him toward the bed.

Unfortunately, the bed was cold.

Sokka growled his annoyance and curled himself up into a tight little ball.

“Come here,” Zuko said, opening his arms to Sokka.

Sokka burrowed into Zuko, who threw one leg over his, tangling their limbs together. Zuko radiated warmth like his own little space heater. It took no time at all to warm the space beneath the blankets.

And from where Sokka lay, curled against Zuko’s chest, he had easy access to his boyfriend’s neck.

“Sokka,” Zuko said with a little hitching laugh as his lips met his skin. “What happened to ‘big day tomorrow?’”

“What?” Sokka asked, kissing him again. “I seem to recall something we meant to do earlier but didn’t have time for.”

He turned over, climbing onto Zuko’s chest and kissing him. But as he did, the blankets slid down off his shoulders and there was a sudden influx of cold air again.

“Fuck,” Sokka grumbled, his shoulders shooting up towards his ears, but he laughed as he did.

Zuko laughed too, burrowing a little deeper into the blankets. Sokka reached up and pulled the comforter all the way up over their heads. He felt, suddenly, rather ridiculous and young. Like boys in a blanket fort.

The feeling didn’t last long. The things Sokka intended to do to Zuko were decidedly adult.

Sokka kissed him, deep and searching and ravenous. Zuko made a soft little noise in the back of his throat and Sokka pressed closer, one hand palming Zuko’s cheek and the other sliding around the small of his back. He shifted a little so one of his legs was nestled between Zuko’s. Zuko’s breath hitched.

“You good babe?” Sokka asked, his lips brushing Zuko’s cheek as he did.

“Yeah,” Zuko gasped. “Yes.”

“Good,” Sokka hummed.

He lowered his mouth back to Zuko’s. He pressed a line of kisses across his cheek, skirting the edge of where his scar met his unmarked skin, and retraced the line down the edge of his jaw. Mouthed at what he could reach of Zuko’s throat. His partner looked sexy as anything in his Maple Leafs sweatshirt but the hood was now thoroughly getting in his way.

He ran one hand up Zuko’s side, slipping his hand under the sweatshirt and the tee underneath, finding skin, his touch light and teasing. Zuko gasped and reached for Sokka’s face, pulling him in for a hungry, bruising kiss. Zuko took Sokka’s lower lip between his teeth and Sokka moaned deep in his throat.

“What do you want my love?” Sokka asked, his voice low and rough.

He always asked. Every time, Sokka asked. Reminding Zuko with every kiss, with every touch, with every scrap of pleasure they shared, that he always had a say in the things that happened to his body.

“Would you…” Zuko gasped for breath. “Would you touch me? I want your hand on me.”

He asked like it wasn’t exactly what Sokka most wanted to do just then. Like it wasn’t what Sokka would rather be doing at all times.

He kissed the corner of Zuko’s mouth, “of course.”

He tugged at Zuko’s waistband, loosening the ties and dragging his clothing off his hips, freeing his cock, already so hard that Sokka bit his lip and swallowed a curse. He kissed Zuko again, covering his lips, his face, the curves of his neck with the press of his mouth as he took Zuko’s cock into his hand. Running his hand over his length in slow, steady strokes.

Zuko released a heavy, aching sigh and tipped his head back.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Sokka breathed, lifting his mouth from Zuko’s skin just long enough to speak.

“I…” Zuko stammered, “me too.”

Sokka hummed in satisfaction, his own desire shooting through him, bright and hot. He shifted a little so he could rub his own length, straining against his sweatpants, against Zuko’s hip. Zuko, feeling him, gave another little gasp.

Zuko reached for him, and even through the fabric, feeling his touch make Sokka lose his breath for a second. Zuko palmed him and Sokka rocked his hips into his hand. And it wasn’t near enough he wanted more but he was taking care of Zuko right now so he slowed the shift of his hips and went back to teasing his partner’s cock.

Zuko, Sokka had learned, as their summer romance had drifted into the fall and then into winter, loved to be teased.

He stroked Zuko slowly, varying his grip, pausing between each stroke to slide his thumb over the sensitive tip. And each time, each and every time, Zuko made gasping, breathy, beautiful sounds that made Sokka’s own cock throb with want.

“God you’re beautiful,” Sokka breathed. “I love listening to you.”

Zuko couldn’t form a response and Sokka took it as a compliment.

Sokka teased Zuko along for as long as he could stand, and he could stand quite a bit, before finally taking pity on him and increasing his pace.

“Oh,” Zuko gasped, and Sokka knew instantly that he was extraordinarily close.

“Come for me?” Sokka rasped.

And Zuko did. Mere breaths later he did, with a gorgeous, satisfied moan that might have been Sokka’s favorite sound in the whole world.

Sokka fell back onto his side, one leg still thrown over Zuko’s and his head tucked into his partner’s shoulder, and reached for himself, finally finally freeing his own hard, aching cock. He began to stroke himself, swift and firm.

“Sokka,” Zuko said, shifting.

Zuko hadn’t even caught his breath yet, but he was trying to get up, to reach for Sokka.

“Stay there baby,” Sokka breathed. “Just there. Just like that. You’re perfect.”

“But…” Zuko panted, “you haven’t…”

“Oh don’t worry I’m going to,” Sokka said in a rush, chased by a groan. “You just…uungh…lie back and look perfect.”

He was already so close. Listening to Zuko finish, watching the way he surrendered to it, all while rubbing himself against Zuko’s leg… Now he worked himself a little faster with his hand, as Zuko’s lips, soft and kiss-bitten, fell on his face, his forehead, the fringes of his hair.

Sokka came, release shuddering through him. And when he was spent he draped himself over Zuko’s chest, which rose and fell smoothly with his breaths, his limbs heavy and his head flooded with pleasure. He felt Zuko’s lips again, this time on the top of his head. The little crease of his temple.

“god I love you,” Zuko breathed.

Sokka loved Zuko like this. Loved him in all ways and in all moods but especially like this. Soft and sated and at ease with himself. Pleasure-drunk and satisfied. Endlessly affectionate, with all self-consciousness about it abandoned.

“I love you too babe,” Sokka said.

He shifted, kissing Zuko properly, and this time, when the motion let in a little bit of cool air, it wasn’t nearly as much of a problem as it had been.

.

Chapter Text

Sokka was useless in the mornings. No amount of rising early, (and there was often a need to rise early, back at camp,) had ever managed to change that. So when his alarm began to blare the next morning, early, the sky still incredibly dark, Sokka groaned. He rolled over slowly. Zuko, still half asleep, reached for him and snuggled into his chest.

“No,” Zuko grumbled sleepily.

“Babe,” Sokka said, fumbling for his phone and succeeding only at knocking it on the floor.

“No,” Zuko mumbled again, pressing his face a little tighter into the crook of Sokka’s neck.

Sokka gave up and let the alarm keep ringing. If even Zuko was still sleepy it was entirely too fucking early.

But it was Zuko who got up after a moment, climbing awkwardly over Sokka to retrieve the fallen phone and finally silencing the alarm. He flipped on the bedside lamp and Sokka groaned again, throwing his arm over his face. Belligerently, he kept it there, even as Zuko pressed a kiss to what he could reach of his cheek.

“I’ll shower first,” Zuko said.

“Great,” Sokka mumbled.

He fell back asleep.

When Zuko gently nudged him awake again, his hair was wet and he smelled nice.

“Your turn,” Zuko said.

With Sokka still slow and sleepy, Zuko was gone before he had a chance to kiss him. He dragged himself out from under the covers, shivering a little, and stumbled to the bathroom. The mirror was still a little foggy from Zuko’s shower, and when Sokka turned on the water, it flowed hot and strong immediately.

Sokka stood in the spray for a long time, just letting it wash over him. He let the heat and the absolutely fucking spectacular water pressure soothe the tightness out of his shoulders.

If Sokka could have snapped his fingers and fixed one thing about the camp house where he lived with Dad and Gran Gran, it would be the water pressure. The water pressure and the tiny water heater that meant he had to rush through his showers to save enough hot water for the rest of them.

He loved the camp house. He’d grown up there. His dad had grown up there. Sometimes, Sokka liked to imagine his own kids growing up there too.

He knew what a miracle it was, having the place he grew up be a place he felt no need to run from.

But he was never getting out of this shower. Not ever.

Zuko rapped on the door.

“Sokka?” He called, his voice muffled. “We’re supposed to meet the gang in, like, ten minutes.”

Sokka heaved a sigh and called back, “ok!”

He began to wash his hair.

Despite spending so long soaking up the heat, he finished the necessities of showering quickly. He had just pushed back the shower curtain and was wrapping a towel around his waist when Zuko knocked again.

“Hey? About done?” Zuko called through the door.

“Yeah,” Sokka said. “I just need a minute.”

He grabbed one of the smaller hand towels and began to squeeze his hair dry.

“Cool,” Zuko said. “We’re running behind so I’m gonna-”

Zuko let himself into the bathroom, already reaching for his toothbrush, but stopped dead in his tracks, staring at Sokka.

Sokka took in the expression on Zuko’s face, a little slack jawed and unable to tear his eyes from his abs, and smirked. Sokka knew he how he looked, especially like this. Bare chested and still shining from the water. Hair wet and loose around his face. Wearing nothing but a towel low across his hips. A blush spread across Zuko’s face and Sokka threw the little hand towel he’d been using on his hair over his shoulder oh so casually…

He resisted flexing. But only just.

It didn’t matter. Zuko threw himself at him.

They crashed back against the wall, narrowly missing the towel rack. His skin was still a little wet and definitely leaving damp splotches on Zuko’s shirt, but he didn’t seem to care. Zuko’s lips met his own with single-minded intent, his tongue slipping immediately into his mouth. Zuko’s hand began to drift down across his bare chest and Sokka groaned.

“Unfair,” he gasped when he finally managed to come up for air.

Zuko was wearing too many clothes. And he’d caught Sokka nearly naked.

“Sorry,” Zuko rasped in a way that didn’t sound sorry at all.

And then Zuko’s mouth was on his chest and Sokka lost all capacity for rational thought.

“I thought…” he cut himself off as his voice pitched up into a breathless moan, “I thought we were going to be late.”

“Oh we’re definitely going to be late,” Zuko assured him.

Zuko covered every inch of Sokka’s chest with his lips, hot and frantic and urgent. His hands traveled lower, even as his mouth continued to work, and Sokka shivered under his touch. Zuko shifted one knee between Sokka’s and sweet Tui and La there was only a towel between Zuko’s leg and his cock.

And Zuko tugged the towel away, dropping it dismissively to the floor. Took him into his hand. Sokka rasped another curse and melted, his head dropping towards Zuko’s shoulder even as his hips canted toward his hand.

“Mmm. My beloved,” Zuko breathed, his lips just brushing Sokka’s ear.

Sokka whined.

The thing about teasing Zuko was that Zuko could give as good as he got.

Sokka hoped the walls were thick, because he did not want to be responsible for anything the neighboring rooms might be hearing at this ungodly hour of the morning. Did not want to be held responsible for the wild and thoroughly irresponsible sounds Zuko pulled from him with his hand and his mouth on his neck.

Zuko picked up his head and tugged Sokka’s mouth to his. Sokka devoured him. His own hands clutched at Zuko’s hips, at his ass, all but dying to reciprocate. To bury Zuko in the same attention he was currently giving out.

But Zuko had other ideas.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Zuko said.

Hands on Sokka’s hips, Zuko dropped to his knees. Heat spiked through Sokka and he choked on his next breath.

“Babe…” Sokka gasped.

“Beloved?” Zuko looked up at him, one hand sliding down the back of his leg, the other casually fondling his cock.

Sokka could not, for the life of him, remember what he’d been about to say.

“…we are in a hurry,” Zuko breathed.

Sokka gathered just enough wits to give Zuko the salacious encouragement he was so clearly seeking.

“You think…” he stifled another groan behind his teeth, “think you can manage it?”

Zuko smirked up at him, “Watch me.”

As if Sokka could do anything but watch, and gasp, and curse, and Zuko took him into his mouth and went to work. Pressed for time or not, Zuko had been known to finish him off in under five minutes when he had a mind.

And this morning, he had a mind.

“Fuck!” Sokka gasped, “fuck, Zuko…”

One hand on the back of Zuko’s head, tangling in his hair, the other frantically searched for something, anything, that he could hold on to as his knees threatened to go out underneath him.

He found Zuko’s hand, and that was more than enough.

He only barely pulled himself together enough to warn Zuko that he was about to finish. Zuko’s grip tightened on his hand, his mouth and his tongue equally as firm and insistent around him.

He came with a sudden, aching cry, squeezing his eyes shut, his hand tugging Zuko’s hair at the roots. For a moment he was lost in it, seeing the fucking stars. Then, spent, he tipped his head back against the wall, just breathing.

Zuko’s hands slid up the backs of his legs again, and when they reached his hips, Zuko pressed his cheek to Sokka’s middle, still on his knees, just holding him. Sokka traced his fingers languidly through Zuko’s hair as he caught his breath.

“Well,” he said with a little laugh.

Zuko just gave a low, satisfied hum.

Slowly, Zuko got up, still leaning into Sokka. They shared a soft, languid kiss. There were incriminating damp patches on the knees of his pants. Sokka laughed under his breath, tugging Zuko closer by the collar of his shirt.

“What?” Zuko asked.

“We’re going to be so late to breakfast.”

——

Breakfast was a rapid affair charged with anxious and excited energy. Zuko ate quickly, laughed as he watched Sokka fully inhale no less than three waffles, and begrudgingly choked down a cup of thoroughly average continental breakfast coffee.

Then they all followed Raye’s parents into the ceremony and reception halls, lending their hands for all the last minute setup and decorating that needed to be done. Vendors were arriving, flowers being delivered and hotel event employees covering all the chairs with elegant white slip covers. Zuko got roped into spreading table runners down the center of all the tables in the reception hall. He followed all his orders, and when Raye’s mother ordered them all upstairs to dress for photos, he went without question.

Raye and her bridesmaids had disappeared a while ago, off to hair and makeup. Lu Ten caught Zuko on the way out the door.

“Meet in Peter’s room when we’re all dressed, yeah?” Lu Ten said.

Peter, the best man, gave Zuko a little mock salute. Lu Ten was glowing with excitement, his smile huge.

“Yeah,” Zuko said, smiling back, “be there soon.”

They retreated to their room and dressed. Zuko tugged his suit, exquisitely cut and a deep, slate gray, from the closet. The shirt he pulled on before the jacket carried the wedding colors: a deep burgundy red. A simple black tie completed the ensemble.

Zuko had just finished knotting the tie when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a text from Katara. He opened it right away. She and Suki were at the camp this weekend helping Hakoda with the current renters, since Sokka and Zuko were out of town.

It was a photo of the camp, blanketed in several feet of snow.

K: You picked a good weekend to leave 😂😂

Zuko chuckled under his breath and texted back a short apology.

“What?” Sokka asked.

“Camp got lots of snow last night,” Zuko said.

Sokka barked a laugh and went back to fixing his hair.

While he was replying to Katara, another text came in. This one was from Suki, and had been delivered to both himself and Sokka.

S: Look here you bastards. You’d better be enjoying that wedding because you left us here to deal with two feet of snow. You bastards.

Zuko laughed again.

Sokka turned at the sound, and Zuko temporarily forgot about Suki’s ire.

Sokka’s suit was a deep navy blue, and fit him perfectly. The lighter blue shirt beneath it was the exact color of his eyes. He hadn’t yet tied his tie, and it hung loose around his neck.

Zuko took that tie in his hands and dragged Sokka toward him. Sokka’s hands found his hips at the same moment that their lips met.

“See something you like?” Sokka teased.

Zuko just kissed him again. He considered, briefly, dragging Sokka toward the bed for a reprise of that morning’s activities, but this time they really couldn’t afford to be late.

“Here,” he said instead, reaching for his phone again and lining the two of them up for a selfie.

He checked the photo. Fuck, Sokka looked radiant. He sent it to Suki.

Z: Sokka cleans up well.

S: that’s nothing. You should see him in drag.

Zuko made a strangled, choking noise and blushed furiously, all while sending a string of surprised and excited emojis back to the text thread.

Sokka looked up at him, “you ok?”

“You do drag?” Zuko asked him, his face lighting up.

Sokka barked a laugh, “Suki?”

“Yeah.”

Sokka laughed again, turning toward the mirror to tie his tie, “yeah. Suki was in this modern dance troupe in college, and it started when we tried putting me in one of her old performance outfits, sort of as a joke, but then… yeah I do drag sometimes.”

“That’s…extremely hot,” Zuko said, shyly, still blushing.

“I’ll dig up some photos for you later,” he said.

“Can’t wait.”

Sokka turned back to Zuko. Brushed his cheek with his lips.

“Ready?” Sokka asked him.

Zuko checked his reflection one more time, “yeah.”

They trekked their way to the best man’s room, Zuko knocking and Peter throwing it open, arms comically wide in welcome.

Lu Ten stood in front of the mirror, dressed in his wedding suit, adjusting his cuffs, and then his tie. When he turned to Zuko, his cousin looked happier than Zuko had ever seen him. Zuko grinned back as he clasped Lu Ten in a tight hug.

“Looking sharp,” Zuko said.

“Not too shabby yourself,” Lu Ten countered.

Zuko gave him a half smile and a little shrug, and fought the urge to turn his scarred side away from view. As a young boy, he’d often served as an usher for weddings at his dad’s church. But after his… after his father scarred him, he hadn’t even been allowed to do that anymore. No one wanted a disfigured kid in their wedding.

Except Lu Ten, apparently.

Lu Ten reached for the tabletop and returned holding a boutineer with a small white rose, which he helped Zuko pin to his chest.

“Ok now we’re all met…” Peter uncorked an expensive looking bottle of whiskey and poured.

Zuko took his glass and gave it a perfunctory sniff. His nose wrinkled. Not wanting to be rude, he took a tiny sip.

It was a mistake. The sharp bite and the way the smell flooded his senses reminded him suddenly and viscerally of the scent he used to catch on his father sometimes, right before he dealt out some of the worst of his “punishments.”

The glass rattled as he set it down.

He reached, as unobtrusively as he could manage, for Sokka’s hand. This was Lu Ten’s wedding day. If ever there was a day he needed to stay grounded, it was today. He wasn’t allowed to have a breakdown today. He couldn’t.

Sokka, half perched on the edge of the desk, pulled Zuko into his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind and resting his chin on the top of his shoulder.

The following minutes were somewhat fuzzy, but Zuko focused on his breath, and by the time Peter checked his phone, announcing “limo’s here!” to the room, he felt almost normal again.

Lu Ten left first. He was headed to the suite where the ladies were dressing, to get a first look at his bride to be. The rest of them went down to the lobby to wait. The limo was going to take them to a second location for photos before the ceremony.

The parents were all there and waiting, including Iroh and Piandao, who fawned over Zuko and Sokka in their suits in a way that made Sokka preen and Zuko blush.

Uncle smoothed the shoulders of Zuko’s suit.

“You all right my boy?” He asked.

Damn. Maybe he wasn’t as settled as he thought.

But he gave Uncle a small smile, “yeah. I’m good.”

Uncle Iroh, thankfully, didn’t argue. He just patted Zuko’s cheek lightly and turned back to Piandao. Zuko breathed a little sigh of relief. Today was a big day for Uncle too. His only son was getting married. Worrying about Zuko should be the last thing on his mind today.

The limo driver came in to check on them. Peter stalled, saying they were just waiting on the bride and groom.

And, as if summoned, they arrived. Lu Ten arrived in the lobby with Raye on his arm.

Raye looked stunning, wrapped in a dress that folded around her shoulders in elegant waves, hugging her hips before flaring out toward the floor. The fabric was worked through with silver threads, so with every movement she glittered like sunlight on fresh snow.

Zuko looked at the two of them, both so obviously enamored with one another, and smiled.

Raye’s mother, ever the ringleader, clapped her hands, and they moved out.

Halfway to the door, Raye suddenly stopped with a gasp, a hand flying to Lu Ten’s arm.

“Lu,” she said, a little breathless, “I forgot the scarf.”

Lu Ten cursed under his breath. Zuko saw his cousin’s eyes dart toward the waiting limo with a tight, nervous tension in his face. They were already a little behind schedule.

“I’ve got it,” Sokka swept up to Zuko’s side. “Where’s this scarf? I’ll grab it and then meet you there.”

“It’s in our room,” Raye replied. “I know I got it out this morning, so maybe it’s on the bed with my things?”

“I’ll find it,” Sokka said.

Lu Ten produced the room key for the suite and handed it to Sokka. Sokka gave Zuko a little smile that momentarily made Zuko forget that the wedding party was experiencing a minor crisis.

“Text me the address?” He asked.

Zuko nodded. And Sokka was off like a shot.

——

Letting himself into the hotel suite where Raye had spent the morning getting ready with her bridesmaids felt like accidentally crossing onto sacred ground. Garment bags lay scattered about the room, surrounded by discarded pieces of casual wear. Hairpins and makeup palettes and setting powders and hairsprays and a few items that even Sokka couldn’t name (and he did drag for crying out loud) covered every surface. Champagne glasses with lipstick marks on the rims rested among the various tools.

And there were scarves everywhere.

Sokka counted six on his first sweep of the room. Then two more when he checked again. He realized, in a sudden moment of panic, that he hasn’t asked Raye for any sort of details on what the scarf in question looked like, and she hadn’t offered any.

…fuck he was screwed.

It probably wasn’t one of the heavy winter scarves, right? It would be one of the lighter ones. Something elegant. Right?

He was pretty sure he’d seen that purplish one around Ella’s neck at breakfast, so it probably wasn’t that one. …Right?

Raye had said it was with her things…but which set of things was Raye’s?

Fuck.

He gave up and grabbed every scarf he could find.

No less than nine scarves draped over his arm, Sokka rushed back down to the lobby, already typing the address Zuko had sent him into his rideshare app.

S: you’re sure this is the right address?

It was coming up as a library.

Z: yeah. We’re on the top floor. It’s the “winter garden”

Sokka shrugged, called his ride, (it would arrive in two minutes), and pocketed his phone.

And that was when he realized he wasn’t wearing his coat.

“Fuck!” He said, out loud, to no one. Though a woman behind the check in counter gave him a withering look.

His car arrived and he rushed outside and threw himself into the backseat.

“The Harold Washington Library?” The driver asked.

“Apparently,” Sokka said.

“Cool. What’s with the scarves?”

“Wedding emergency.”

“…Cool.”

And neither of them spoke for the rest of the ride.

Sokka’s appreciation for librarians increased rather sharply as he scrambled into the lobby of the massive downtown library, in a suit, shivering, with a completely inappropriate number of scarves over his arm, and was immediately given clear directions to the winter garden on the top floor.

But the elevator doors slid open and Sokka instantly understood. The Winter Garden was beautiful. A massive domed skylight made the room, with its shining marble floors and beautifully manicured plant displays, positively glow.

Raye was the first to spot him in the doorway with his unwieldy armload of scarves, and she burst out laughing, covering her hand with her mouth. The rest of the wedding party (posed in one of the gilded corners) turned at her laugh. Sokka held up his arm full of scarves and bowed elaborately like a troubadour.

Iroh came up next to him.

“It’ll be this one,” he said, lifting a red scarf with a crane motif from his arm.

Of course. He should have known it was the red one with the Japanese pattern.

“Japanese silk,” Iroh said. “I gave a similar one to Alyssa when I proposed to her.”

Iroh rubbed the fine fabric between his fingertips, smiling to himself. His eyes darted toward Piandao in a way that was not at all subtle. Sokka cocked an eyebrow at him.

Iroh blushed a little. Then he winked. Sokka smirked.

And he dumped the other eight scarves over a chair.

Sokka was on the auxiliary team in this room and he knew it. All the partners were. He, (and all the other hangers on of the wedding party and parents,) was asked to join just a handful of the photos, the photographer doing an astonishing job of stuffing almost twenty people into the same camera frame. But mostly he just stood to the side. Chatted with the others and held phones and purses and, yes, scarves.

But when the photographer moved on to the bride and groom shots, Lu Ten and Raye posed in front of the camera with that gorgeous red scarf around her shoulders, Lu Ten holding both ends, holding her close as they beamed at one another, the hassle was worth it.

Raye’s father sidled up to him.

“Your uber? How much was it?” The man asked, reaching for his phone.

Sokka waved him off, “it’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal. You brought the scarf. You saved the day.”

Sokka chose not to argue, and let Raye’s dad Venmo him.

Zuko looked like himself again. He’d been trying to hide it back at the hotel, but Sokka had noticed him dissociating a little bit. Sokka always noticed. But now Zuko stood in a little circle with the rest of the party, laughing and chatting in a way that seemed genuine again. Sokka breathed a little easier.

Lu Ten stepped up between him and Zuko, one hand on each of their shoulders.

“We’ve got fifteen minutes left with the photographer before we need to get out of here,” he said, “and Raye and I are done. You two are up next.”

Sokka turned to where the photographer was taking a handful of photos of Iroh and Piandao. They looked amazing, posed together in the sunlight. Iroh was in the wedding colors, and Piandao’s suit and accompanying shirt and tie were all sharp black and dark grayscale.

God Sokka hoped he still looked as good as Piandao did when he hit that age.

The photographer beckoned, and he and Zuko rushed over, Sokka tugging Zuko gently across the room by the wrist.

The photographer posed them in one of the manicured corners. Clearly adept at posing queer couples, she didn’t even blink when Zuko asked Sokka to switch sides with him.

…so that his scarred side was turned away from the camera.

Sokka's heart broke a little. He knew Zuko’s feelings about his scar were complicated. It would honestly be insane if they weren’t. But Sokka didn’t find it ugly or unattractive. In fact, he found it…he was never quite sure what word to use. Zuko was so beautiful, to Sokka, but beautiful was the wrong word for something that had caused Zuko so much pain. Continued to cause him pain. But…Sokka had never known Zuko without it. It was just a part of who he was. And Sokka loved this Zuko, not some unblemished version of Zuko that he’d never met. He loved him. Scars and all.

He lifted his hand to his partner’s cheek. His scarred cheek. He ran his thumb over it, though he was careful only to touch the smooth, unmarked stretch of skin. Dimly, he heard the camera shutter going mad.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” Zuko breathed.

He pulled Zuko in for a kiss, the camera shutter rattling wildly in celebration, like applause.

——

Zuko hated weddings.

He hated the rigidity of them. He hated the way so many of them, at least in his social circles, were inextricably entangled with religion. He hated the fact that tradition demanded a woman on his arm as he walked down the aisle. Ella was wonderful but it just felt so archaic to him.

He hated the way an entire room full of people, most of whom he barely knew, turned to him and Ella the moment they stepped into view. He hated being the center of attention.

They were down the aisle before he knew it, and the two of them separated. Zuko hoped he hadn’t looked too stupid.

Peter and Raye’s maid of honor came next. Lu Ten joined them at the altar, with the officiant. Azula lifted her violin and began to play.

And then the door opened, and Raye appeared.

On her father’s arm, beaming at Lu Ten, Raye came down the aisle.

Zuko looked over at Lu Ten. His cousin looked fit to cry. He kept leaning forward, like that might make Raye arrive at the altar faster.

When she finally reached them, her father handed her off with a light kiss on the cheek, and then joined the other parents in the front row. Zuko risked a glance at Uncle, who was near to tears himself, Piandao’s hand held tightly in his lap.

Lu Ten took Raye’s hands, and the ceremony began.

There was more music. A few readings. Lu Ten wasn’t religious, but Raye’s family was catholic, so there were traditions to observe.

And by the time the two of them reached their vows, Zuko’s heart was in his throat.

He’d given up on praying a long time ago. He wasn’t sure if there was any sort of sentient deity out there, and even if there was, he was even less sure that they had the kind of power that could answer prayers. But if he caught himself hoping for Lu Ten and Raye’s happiness…maybe it didn’t matter if anyone was listening. Maybe he could hope anyway.

Zuko smiled. He looked at Lu Ten as Lu Ten looked at Raye, and he hoped.

.