Taking a break from The Fishbone and The Firelily for some silly Sokkla Christmas fluff and shenanigans.
"Give me that, you're doing it wrong." Azula snatched the measuring cup. Sokka had previously filled it to the brim with sugar, prompting Azula to remark, "how much sugar do you think that we need?"
"Aang always said that the more sugar you add the more mistakes you can hide." Sokka replied.
Azula gave him a pointed look as she scooped some sugar out of the measuring cup. "Did Aang say that or did Sokka?"
"Sokka said that and Aang agreed." Sokka shrugged.
"Jeez, even TyLee doesn't use this much." Azula huffed. After removing what she deemed to be an appropriate amount, she poured the sugar in with the rest of the mix. And then to herself grumbled, "I'm not even sure if I'm doing this right." She was very nearly entirely sure that they had been adding the ingredients in the wrong order.
Sokka, of course, had keener ears than she anticipated. "Are you telling me that there is something you don't know how to do?"
"The maids have always done the cooking for me." Azula replied nonchalantly.
"Maybe we should have stuck with the gingerbread house?" Sokka asked.
"Oh no! Never." Azula exclaimed abruptly, thinking back to the disaster-piece she and Zuko had crafted together only a few days prior. It started out well enough. Even Ozai was having a good time constructing it with them. But three gumdrops in, Ozai jabbed one on slightly to hard and sent the roof to the floor. Zuko had let out a curse that had their mother pausing her screening of Frosty the Snowbender. By the end of the catastrophe, their gingerbread house looked like it had been hit by a gingerbread tornado. "You have no idea how tedious those things are, Sokka."
"Are you speaking from experience?"
Azula scoffed, "no." Only to catch a glimpse of Zuko nodding affirmatively as he made his way to the staircase. "Well, whatever, that has nothing to do with making these…Sokka!" She shouted. But it was too late, the man had already dumped another cup of sugar into the mix.
"What, we want to cover up the taste of failure don't we?" He asked.
Azula pinched the bridge of her nose. "I think you enhanced it."
Sokka dipped his pointer into the cookie batter and gave it a test taste. "I don't know, failure tastes pretty good."
"You would know." Azula replied.
"Hey!" Sokka exclaimed. "At least my cooking looks like food, unlike that thing." He pointed to what he (rightly) assumed was left of her gingerbread tragedy.
"How dare you?" Azula shot back. "That is art." Even she knew that, that was a dreadful lie.
"They're calling everything art these days." Sokka chuckled.
With no efficient come back to give, Azula took a handful of flour and tossed it into his face with a smug smile only to have it wiped away by a lump of cookie dough slamming against her cheek. "Our cookies aren't ammo!" She stole the bowl away from him and hastily dumped it onto the cooking pan.
"Pretty sure it's not supposed to be a single glob." Sokka pointed out.
"I know that!" Azula muttered as she separated the dough into five smaller clumps and flattened them out to the best of her ability. "The question is, should we have five large cookies or a ten smaller ones?"
"I'd rather have more of them." Sokka answered, already splitting the five chunks into smaller pieces. Azula took this as a pristine opportunity to dump the rest of the flour over his head. "Y-you…"
"Created the perfect decoy." Azula smiled. "That's right."
"Alright, have it your way." Sokka grinned. From atop the counter he grabbed hold of a tube of icing.
"Sokka you better not." Azula warned.
Despite her pleas, Sokka uncapped the frosting. "If you do that then there won't be enough to decorate the cookies with." She tried.
"I thought your dad didn't like icing." Sokka replied before giving the tube a good squeeze.
"He doesn't." Azula answered. "So I suppose he wouldn't be upset if I used up some of the green icing." As she walked by to put the tray of cookies in the oven, she squeezed a fair amount of it into his hair.
"This is why you two aren't allowed to cook together." Zuko grumbled from a top the staircase, hoping with every ounce of his soul that he was out of the firing range. "Mother is going to kill us for this." He groaned.
"Don't worry Zu-Zu, we'll clean it." Azula rolled her eyes. "Anyways, we're done throwing food at each other anyhow."
"Yes, and I do believe that I won." Sokka pointed out.
"Did you really? If I'm not mistaken, this gaudy sweater is yours." She gave it a tug. "By all means more of your belongings are dirty." She found herself twice as self-satisfied, knowing that beneath the protection of his clothing, her own was untouched.
Sokka shrugged. "I suppose it was worth it, to see you take cookie dough to the face." And to himself he noted that it was also wroth ruining his sweater to see her wearing it at all. He found that there was something quite precious about seeing her dressed in clothing about three sizes too big for her. She was constantly pushing and rolling the sleeves up so that she could actually use her hands. He found himself digging through folds of clothing to take those hands in his own.
"I should go wash up." Azula declared.
"Let me give you a head start." Sokka offered before pressing his lips to her own. He could taste the frosting that coated the corner of her mouth. Before pulling away he gently sucked on her bottom lip, at the same time removing the icing.
"Gee, thanks, you sure are helpful." Azula muttered.
"Are you going to wash your face like everyone else? Or are Mai and I going to have to watch Sokka lick it all off." Zuko questioned.
Azula coated her fingers with some of the frosting that was globbed on her cheeks, sauntered over to Zuko, and rubbed it on his forehead as she made her way to the bathroom.
By the time Azula finished her shower, Sokka had taken the cookies out of the oven. And by the time he finished his, they were cooled down enough to eat. The kitchen itself was still a pretty decent mess, so they hustled to clean it as their hot chocolate heated. Sokka was rather eager to have the mug in his hands. That would be one step closer to snuggling before the fire. Azula wasn't much into the cuddles herself, but they made Sokka happy so she would endure it. He after all, handled her awful cooking better than most others.
In a fairly short span of time, Azula found herself in his arms, a blanket thrown over their shoulders. The television intermingling with the sizzle and pop of the fire place created cozy white noise as Sokka ran his fingers through her hair. She took a sip of her hot chocolate and peered out the window. The lights fixed upon painstakingly decorated houses, sent the snow into a rainbowy shimmer. She caught a glimpse of her father pulling into the driveway. The look on his face indicated that he had just suffered a round of drunk caroling from his wife and brother.
"Tis the season." Azula mumbled.
Sokka leaned forward to kiss the crook of her neck. "It is the only time of the year where we get to do this."
"I suppose it is." Azula repositioned the blanket to better cover the pair. She had to confess; no matter how much she said she didn't enjoy the cuddling, she did look forward to it each year. Of course she would never speak her confession and the following year, would protest and delay the snuggling for as long as she could. For the time being, she nuzzled her head against Sokka's chest and took in the jolly sound of Ursa slurring her way through another carol.