Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Sokka walked restlessly into his bedroom, relieved to find his roommate was not there. Considering the events that had transpired earlier in the locker room, he needed some alone time to try to sort out the jumbled pieces of his mind. He had managed to survive his thermodynamics class, though, given his racing thoughts, he didn't exactly get anything out of it. Even getting a frappuccino from the hot barista didn't help his confusion. She had been so close to getting his name right too. Sakko.

"Okay, Sokka," he said to himself, beginning to pace. "What's the matter with you? What the hell happened in there? Figure this out." He stopped in place, holding his index finger up in the air. "And what better way to figure things out than with some good old-fashioned logic?" He crossed to the mirror and gave himself a long hard stare. "Let's look at the facts. You've always liked girls, you had a reputation for being a ladies' man in high school. You've only had crushes on girls, you've only ever fallen in love with girls. The thought of having a boyfriend has never entered your head." Sokka nodded in the mirror, convincing himself of his own stream of consciousness. "You are straight. You've always defined yourself that way. The thing with Zuko must have been a fluke. You're friends, nothing more."

Satisfied with his self-reflection, he kicked off his sneakers, walked over to his bed, and flopped down on the rigid twin-sized mattress. He stared at the ceiling and laughed, thinking it funny that Zuko of all people had caused him to have such a… large reaction. After all, the two of them didn't exactly get along when they first met. To the contrary, if 'hate at first sight' were a thing, that would have been a fairly accurate descriptor.

They had met on the first day of fencing practice. Eager to try something new, Sokka arrived to the gym a few minutes early. He pushed open the heavy double doors and walked starry-eyed onto the multiuse wood floor only to step on something metallic and sharp. It was a fencing blade.

"Watch where you're walking," Zuko derided, glaring.

"Sorry," Sokka apologized, hopping off the blade. But then his attitude changed. "I didn't see you there… behind the door."

The black-haired boy grunted and began cleaning his sword.

"I thought the school provided fencing equipment…" Sokka said upon noticing Zuko was already dressed in fencing gear.

"They do." He kept his eyes down, affixed to his blade. "But I already own my own gear. I've been fencing for four years."

In that moment, Sokka had the student all figured out. Zuko was a spoiled rich kid, probably a city boy. He had access to daddy's credit card and had low empathy for people who were less well off. He lived in a mansion or brownstone with a nanny since his parents were likely too busy working to take care of any children. But what his parents couldn't give in time, they could give in money, gifts, and lessons of all kinds. Piano, French and Latin, sculpting, fencing and ice skating lessons, anything pretentious. He definitely wasn't here on an academic scholarship like Sokka was.

"I see," Sokka muttered. "Well I haven't been fortunate enough to have been given that opportunity."

Zuko shot him another dirty look as the rest of the fencers piled in.

For a while, their relationship only worsened from there. After learning that Zuko used a sabre, it was obvious what kind of blade Sokka would choose for himself. He had a natural proclivity for fencing, easily outmatching all the newcomers within weeks and even some of the returning students. But he could never get a damn point on Zuko. The boy was good. And he knew it. It drove Sokka nuts. Such privilege. He wanted to wipe that cocky smirk clean off Zuko's face every time the rich boy won a match. But one day, after a couple months of training, Sokka finally scored.

"Hey, look out!" Sokka cried. "There's a bee on your shoulder!"

"Huh? Where?" Zuko turned to his head quickly to the side.

Sokka saw his opportunity and struck him on the shoulder. "There." He grinned triumphantly.

"That's no fair! You distracted me!"

"You know in fencing, you should always be 'on guard'."

"You're not as funny as you think."

"Who would have thought Mr. Moneybags would be such a poor sport?" Sokka taunted. "Afraid there's a new golden boy climbing the ranks?"

Zuko threw his blade to the floor, ripped off his fencing mask, and starting charging at Sokka. Panicked, Sokka dropped his sword and readied himself for a fight. Even though Zuko was maybe an inch taller, Sokka figured he'd be scrappier than Mr. Richy Rich. Boy was he wrong. Fortunately, Coach Piandao stepped in to break up the fight before Sokka got his ass completely beaten.

The coach threatened to report them to the school administrators, which would guarantee a semester suspension given their no fighting tolerance. Sokka would likely lose his academic scholarship too. However, because both boys were gifted fencers, Coach Piandao ultimately decided to punish them by having them mend and clean every piece of equipment in the armory. Together.

For the next few weeks, the boys spent many hours alone together in the armory. The first couple nights were quiet and awkward. But before long, they got to talking.

"Look, Zuko. I'm…" Sokka took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. For distracting you. It was a cheap shot."

"We don't have to be friends – "

"I know. I mean it though. I'm sorry."

"Whatever."

"Is my apology not good enough for you?" Sokka asked sardonically.

"No. It's not."

"What do you want from me then?"

"Just leave me alone."

"Well that's gonna be a bit of a challenge while we're cramped up in this armory…"

"Look. Fencing is just really important to me, okay? And you're ruining it. So just stop."

Sokka paused what he was doing. "Why is it so important to you?"

"It just is."

He gave Zuko an unsatisfied look.

"You're gonna keep staring at me until I talk, aren't you."

"Yep."

Zuko huffed, averting his gaze. "It's just that… fencing is one of the only things at which I excel. I… I don't have many talents, and…" He sighed. "I just want my father to be proud of me for once."

So maybe things weren't all glitter and gold for the wealthy. "Overbearing father, eh?"

"That's one way of putting it. He's always had ridiculously high standards, but it's more than that. He… He's always favored my sister. He treats her like a princess."

Sokka tried to speak but Zuko kept talking.

"I think that's why your 'golden boy' comment got to me so much. In fencing, I am the golden boy, but at home, she's the golden girl." He rolled his eyes. "Azula. She's so perfect in every way. Beautiful, smart, athletic, ambitious. A true prodigy."

"Well… that's something we have in common."

Zuko looked up at him.

"My dad doesn't play favorites, but… my sister is a force of nature. She's kind, responsible, nurturing, optimistic… everybody loves her. Katara's definitely the golden child in our house. Things just come naturally to her, whereas I have to work hard for everything I have. That's probably why I've been giving you such a hard time. You just seemed to have everything and I… I come from nothing. I judged you unfairly. And I'm sorry."

He paused for a moment before smiling softly. "Apology accepted."

Sokka smiled.

"And I owe you an apology too. I think I've been particularly cold to you. And not just because you've been annoying me."

"Why is that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because…" He looked down bashfully. "You remind me a little bit of my ex."

"Really?" Sokka laughed. "She must have been a real handful."

He was quiet for a second. "He was."

"Oh, I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed, I didn't know you were – "

"Gay?" Zuko finished. "Yeah… not a lot of people know. Just my ex, the girl I pretended to date in high school, and now… you." He lowered his voice. "My father and sister… they can't know."

The way Zuko emphasized 'can't' made shivers run up Sokka's spine. It hurt him to learn that Zuko's family would be so unaccepting of his identity. He wasn't sure what his own dad would think, but he knew his father would keep loving him no matter what. "Well, your secret's safe with me," Sokka promised, smiling softly.

"Thanks." Zuko returned the warm smile.

"So… messy breakup I presume?"

"You could say that."

Sokka waited for him to elaborate.

"Turns out he was also fucking my sister."

Sokka's eyes went wide. He didn't know what to say. "That's… that's rough, buddy."

Zuko burst out laughing, with Sokka quickly following.

That was the first time Sokka heard Zuko laugh. It was nice.