A few days later, the two boys met up again to go to Iroh's for the afternoon. Iroh himself was out for the day so they were walking -- Sokka boasted that it'd be the last time they'd have to since he'd be getting his car that weekend.

They were only a few blocks away from the school when a third set of footsteps suddenly joined theirs, seemingly from nowhere. Sokka startled, nearly falling on his face when Jet appeared at his side, casually strolling with them.

"Man, you two are practically married now, huh?" he said slyly, a joint smoldering between his teeth.

Zuko had to swallow the urge to snap, to grab Sokka's wrist and turn them both right around. Instead he took a breath, shoved his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and stared straight forward. "My uncle's expecting us," he spoke, ignoring Jet's taunt, and making it clear they had somewhere to be and someone who would wonder if they were late. "We don't have time to chat." This could be bad, Zuko knew. He'd managed to avoid Jet for almost four days --a record, lately-- and he suspected the taller boy was less than pleased about it.

"Home to meet the family. How cute." Jet was sure to let his smoke catch the breeze just right that it went into Sokka's face, sending the younger boy into a coughing fit. "It's cool -- my place is this way."

"We don't need your company," Sokka wheezed irritably, trying to fan the foul-smelling smoke out of his face.

"I don't recall asking you." With a pluck, Jet was shoving Sokka out of his way, switching their places so that he was beside Zuko instead. "You're really not sick of this nerdy twerp yet?" he asked, flawlessly shifting the joint between his lips so that the smoke didn't reach Zuko as it had his companion. He had that smirk -- the knowing, confident one that he knew would get him what he wanted, no matter what it was.

The expression only made Zuko bristle, however, and square his shoulders more firmly. "His name is Sokka, Jet," he said, understanding that he needed to be direct with the other boy if he was ever going to shake Jet's unrepentant attention. "And no. I'm not sick of spending time with my friend. I am getting a little tired of your disrespect."

Sokka scowled, his ears burning with anger but somewhat helpless in the situation. He felt bad that Zuko had to defend them like this and was humiliated at his own inability to deter Jet.

The unwanted visitor swayed close, his breath just reaching Zuko's ear when he said quietly but not that quietly, "That's not what you said in your bedroom a few weeks back."

Zuko froze, eyes widening as his pulse began thundering suddenly in his throat. He thought maybe Jet began to say something else, but he heard nothing beyond the rush of blood in his ears. He whipped around and grabbed Jet by the collar, wrenching him back then forward again. "You shut the hell up," he hissed sickly, unable to glance over Jet's shoulder to see whether Sokka had heard Jet's accusation or not.

Jet blinked at him, surprise apparent at the other's sudden vitriol. But then his eyes narrowed and a cruel grin thinned his lips. He jerked away from Zuko's grip, instead suddenly putting an arm around the skittish younger boy. Sokka glared at him from the corner of his eye with mixed apprehension and disgust, snarling a protest when Jet blew smoke in his face again. "So what do you actually know about our dear friend, SOKKA?" Jet asked, voice sickly sweet. "Has he told you about his old schools? About how he was kicked out for stealing from the facilities? Among other things."

Sokka hesitated to answer, glancing at Zuko briefly before shoving Jet away. "I don't care about that, you jerk."

"Ooooh," Jet laughed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "How very benevolent that you'd be friends with him even in spite of that. He must have told you then about his other deviancies."

"Jet," Zuko warned, stepping forward, fists clenched. "Don't." He didn't want to beg. He didn't want Jet to think he was willing to beg. But this wasn't going anywhere good, and the dangerous glint in Jet's eye couldn't be trusted. "It's not your place," he hissed. If Sokka was going to know, Jet was the last person Zuko wanted him to find out from.

But with his words, Zuko saw the glint flash and something snap in Jet. He reeled, turning to step in front of Zuko, facing him as the three of them halted suddenly under his movement. "Not my place, huh?" he repeated, cruelty razor sharp in his voice. "Oh, I think it's perfectly my place. I'm just looking out for this kid -- I think he's got a right to know that his new BFF is a queer. That even if his taste in guys is changing, he still likes sucking--"

The punch that cracked across Jet's jaw caught him completely off guard. He was wholly focused on Zuko and when Sokka's fist met his face, there wasn't much skill behind the blow, but there was enough anger to send him stumbling to the side.

"You little shit!" Jet snarled, regaining his footing and Sokka seethed, ready to take him on even if his own ass was handed to him on a platter.

But before either could land a blow, Zuko was there, between them, grabbing Sokka by the front of his shirt and shoving him back and out of the way before spinning to face Jet, face hard and hurt. "Damn you!" Zuko shouted, advancing on him angrily. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" His hands were on Jet's jacket once more, and he could already see the purpling skin at Jet's jaw. "Why are you here, Jet? What do you want? Things can not be like they were before! Don't you get that? You're fucked up! I don't even know you anymore. Just leave me alone!" With every angry word ground out between his teeth, Zuko shook the taller boy as though praying that something would get through to him.

He was staring into Zuko's face as he shouted but suddenly Jet snapped out of the trance and gave Zuko a sharp shove away from him. "Fuck if I care!" he snarled but in spite of the anger in his voice, his face was wounded. "You're fucking sickening," he spat, accusing. "I never CARED anyway! So enjoy your nerd in shining armor, you pussy little faggot!" He flicked the smoldering stub of his joint at Zuko before he stormed in the other direction.

Zuko stared after Jet, nothing left in him to bring himself to yell any parting shots. In fact, all he really had the energy to do was sag, dropping to a crouch, hands on his knees as he remembered how to breathe normally, fought the surging sick feeling in his stomach. "Dammit," he swore, swallowing hard and painfully around the knot that had taken up residence in his throat. "Fuck!" He hardly felt his knuckles make contact with the concrete.

Sokka had been still marveling somewhere in the back of his head that he'd just punched Jet in the face and was completely unscathed. But then he rushed to crouch beside Zuko, his own heart racing from what he'd just witnessed even if he'd yet to really process it. "Zuko..." he managed, wincing at the scraped knuckles that came back from the sidewalk.

Zuko didn't seem to notice the faintly oozing scrapes, palms coming up to push back through his hair, a shaky breath hissing between teeth as he fought to find his center again. "I-- I didn't mean for you to see that," he mumbled, his mind turning over everything Jet had just said. Pussy little faggot...

"I know," Sokka said gently, his own throat a little tight. This was one of the weirdest things he'd ever experienced -- but that didn't matter for the moment. He needed right now to make sure that Zuko would be okay. "C'mon... let's go to your uncle's," he urged, lightly taking the other boy's elbow.

Surprisingly, Zuko let the other pull him to his feet, and though he put a good space between them when they began walking again, still he kept pace with Sokka, failing to insist that he just go on home. Zuko thought maybe he should have. He didn't need the help and he didn't want to have the conversation that was inevitable. But he said nothing, just kept walking until they were standing in front of Iroh's house and it was too late to send Sokka home. So he let them in and closed the door, pocketed the key and looked around the living room like he didn't recognize it. Finally, after a long moment, he crossed the floor, and sank onto the end of the well worn green sofa.

Sokka hesitated for a long moment, but then he dropped his bag by the door and disappeared deeper into the house. After a few minutes of looking through Iroh's bathroom, he came back and handed Zuko a damp cloth and a tube of antiseptic for his hand before he sat down, giving the space he knew the other boy needed. Then he coughed and finally spoke up. "So... um... was that..." He paused. "Was that like... real or just Jet being a complete asshole? Because I can't figure it out."

With the cloth draped over his injured knuckles, and his feet drawn up under him, Zuko avoided Sokka's gaze while he considered the question. For a long time he said nothing, and only when Sokka looked awkwardly away to examine a woodblock print on the wall did Zuko clear his throat reluctantly. "We-- Jet and I... were... involved. Back at Arbor."

The first thing that Sokka wanted to say was, 'Why that jerk!?' but somehow he stilled his tongue long enough to realize that was probably not the most sensitive thing to say at that moment. So instead he said, "Oh." Then another long, awkward pause. "He must have changed a lot." What the hell was he supposed to say? He wanted to know why Zuko hadn't told him -- and he was also running over and over the countless nasty snaps that had come from Jet's mouth about himself and Zuko being gay together and it was making the back of his neck hot with retrospective embarrassment. That must have been horrible for Zuko.

"Yeah," Zuko sighed. "He did." He lifted the rag, and pressed lightly at his scraped knuckles. Opening the tube of cream, he rubbed a little in, wincing only slightly, more in embarrassment than in pain. "Look, I'm sorry you... had to hear all that. I-- no one else even knows. And -- I wasn't lying before. I did have a girlfriend back at Hakan. Jet was just..." he trailed off, not knowing the words he'd need to finish that thought.

"Hey, just so you know..." Sokka said abruptly, his voice suddenly bubbling up again. "I don't care. I mean... whatever, who cares? It sucks that you had to deal with that jerk of all people but -- people are just people, right? What should if matter if you like --" Jet's slanderous words tumbled into Sokka's memory and he stopped for a moment, flushing. "I think Haru's probably gay," he finally concluded.

Zuko raised a brow, cast a glance at Sokka. "Um, okay," he replied, clearly finding this announcement just a little odd. Then he turned away again, shaking his head. "But, thanks... I guess. Anyway." He frowned a little, flopping an arm over the side of the couch and allowing himself a long-suffering sigh. "You're not gonna tell anyone about this?" he added, quietly, after another brief pause.

Sokka had to wonder why, given the situation, it was HIMSELF who was blushing like crazy -- mostly in humiliation of his own stupid, stumbling words. "No-- no," he said,before he took a deep breath for composure. "Seriously, Zuko. It's no big deal. Nobody needs to know, it's not their business." It wasn't even his business, right?

"Mm," Zuko agreed with a little nod before turning to lean back against the arm of the sofa, staring at the ceiling, feet stretching out over the cushion until his toes were near enough to almost touch Sokka's leg. "I'm sorry he's been... you know, harassing you. Just... the things he says, they don't mean anything. So, I mean... I hope it hasn't bothered you too much."

"No, not really," Sokka said with an odd expression, his brow furrowed. "I mean, honestly... until today, I figured it was just Jet being a rock-headed macho dick. But now there's some sort of beautiful irony in him calling me a queer." He coughed again then, second guessing his own language. Was it okay to use that word? Was that observation grossly offensive? He plowed on hurriedly. "I was more concerned about him hassling you, really. When uh... when we had it out last week, he told me I should stop protecting you. I guess that makes more sense now."

"He used to be... a really good guy. I really looked up to him," Zuko mused, threading and unthreading his fingers across his stomach. "He was really my first friend after Hakan. And then it's like..." He gestured vaguely, and dropped his hand again, shrugged. "Sorry, I'm sure it seems so... weird. I'm fine though, really," he added, almost convincingly.

Sokka shrugged too. "It's not weird," he said sincerely, trying to make up for his stupid babbling earlier. "I mean..." He steeled himself to speak the next words. "I just know him in a bad light. There's always more facets to a person than what they show every day."

Zuko nodded faintly. "Yeah. Aang's really good at seeing that." He gave a sort of half-smile. He wouldn't have even given Sokka or any of them a second glance if Aang hadn't decided all the Hitler-worshiping rumors weren't true.

The other answered with a sheepish laugh. "That he is. I'm not as good at that -- for which I apologize." He grinned faintly at Zuko. "But lucky for us, we have him around."

"Yeah," Zuko answered, gathering the courage to look up and meet Sokka's eyes. "I guess we are lucky."

Sokka's grin widened, glad that Zuko could still look him in the eye. They could definitely get through this. He paused to run a hand through his hair and then said, "I hate secrets personally -- they're no good unless you've got at least one person to share them with, right?" He couldn't really imagine what Zuko had been forced to deal with in this situation but he couldn't imagine that it had been pleasant not letting anyone else know. He hoped that maybe there could be a bright side to Jet being such a jerk -- that maybe sharing the secret would alleviate the stress just a little.

Zuko couldn't help but laugh a little. Sokka was trying so hard to find a positive spin to everything and even though it showed, Zuko found he didn't mind. Rather, he appreciated it in way. That Sokka was looking for the up side of the situation instead of being scared off or disgusted or angry... it was a genuine relief, and he felt like it might even be possible to relax just a little.

Even Sokka himself wasn't sure where the sudden sort of optimism came from -- it was decidedly out of character. But he didn't like seeing that crease in Zuko's brow, and found himself looking for some way to replace it with a smile even as worries filtered through his thoughts. Like the fact that he'd punched Jet in the face, that Jet had the ability to spread some very nasty rumors, and that he'd already been calling Sokka Zuko's boyfriend... It was some very dangerous knowledge in equally dangerous hands.

"Yeah," Zuko said. "But now you have to tell -me- a secret. So we're even. Otherwise it's not fair at all."

"What?" Sokka groaned in protest. "I don't have any secrets!"

Zuko chuckled, stretched out a toe to poke Sokka in the ribs. "What? I don't believe you. Everyone has secrets. Even if it's just... 'I ate cat poop out of the sand box as a kid.' And before you ask, no, I only watched someone do that. I was too smart to believe it was candy."

Sokka choked back a laugh and hesitated thoughtfully, hemming. How good a person was he? He guessed one sex-related secret deserved another. "Fine," he finally said, grudgingly. "Now -- okay, I don't do this anymore. But when I was younger, like... thirteen, I used to go on chat rooms on line for... well, you know, cybersex." Really, that was probably enough. But Sokka, being Sokka, found that his mouth just continued. "And one time I started talking to this girl and we started messing around... and then like halfway through, she said she wanted to start pretending like we were cats."

If Zuko had been drinking, he would probably have fallen victim to a spit-take. As it was, he still managed to half-choke on nothing, and quickly brought a hand to cover his mouth. "Um. Cats?" Then, "Did you do it?" he prompted, eyes glinting with barely withheld humor.

There was a long, pregnant pause. "Yes," he finally said. "But I didn't like it!"

Zuko coughed into his fist. It took a moment to collect himself again. "Well. That's good," he finally said. "Because otherwise you'd have way more issues than me."

Sokka suddenly grabbed Zuko's bare foot, pressing the tip of his thumb into the soft part right into the middle of his arch, threatening a tickle. "If you EVER tell anyone that though," he said, pointing a finger. "I will kill you seven different ways."

"Hey!" Zuko's voice rose dangerously close to a shriek as he kicked out reflexively, not quite managing to break Sokka's hold. "Secrets aren't any fun if everyone knows them, anyway!"

There was a devious glint in Sokka's eye but he didn't reach for Zuko's foot again. Instead he just said ominously, using a single finger to point down at the foot, "I'm going to remember that."

Zuko blanched faintly, then, strangely, flushed pink. "You wouldn't dare use that against me."

"Try me," Sokka threatened smoothly. "Or maybe I'll just attack when you least expect it." A brow was arched high. Under normal circumstances, he would have grabbed Zuko's foot right then and tickled him until he screamed like a little girl. But considering the events of the afternoon, it didn't seem like the right thing to do at the moment. So instead he just let the threat hang.

"I am never taking off my shoes around you again," Zuko promised sternly, slowly withdrawing his foot as though suspecting that Sokka might change his mind and snatch it up again.

Eyes narrowed. And then Sokka lunged.

This time, Zuko did shriek, startling backward and grabbing for his knees. Sokka didn't actually grab his feet. What he did do was burst into hysterical laughter at the sound that had burst from Zuko's throat until he slid off the couch and onto the floor.

When Zuko realized he'd been faked out, another sound, only slightly less high-pitched emerged from his throat and he slid down the length of the couch toward Sokka's curled form and began jabbing him with his heels in the fleshy part of his torso. "You jerk!" he crowed, but in moments he was grinning, laughing between the hurled insults. "I'm gonna get you for that!"

"Ow - ow - ow!" Sokka was barely managing the syllables between his laughter which only seemed to be fueled further by Zuko's abuse. "Okay okay! I give! Aaah my ribs!"

Zuko got in another good thump before he stilled his feet, not bothering to lift them from where they now rested on Sokka's side. "That'll teach you," he sniffed, a smirk belying his true humor.

It took a moment for Sokka to catch his breath and he made no protest, going limp with a deep sigh. Then he said, "...I punched Jet in the face."

Zuko couldn't help but laugh a little at this, at the consternation in Sokka's voice. Still, he sobered quickly, leaning back with a thoughtful sigh of his own. "Yeah," he nodded. "You sure did."

Sokka grimaced a little. So it actually had happened. "Do you think he'll... you know... want to kill me?" he asked. Obviously Zuko knew him a lot better than he did. The most that Sokka knew about him was the simple fact that Jet could beat the ever-loving hell out of him without breaking a sweat.

"Maybe he'll want to." Zuko shrugged, pensive. "But I don't think he'll do anything about it. It's not really you he's mad at anyway," he added with a glance for the back of Sokka's head.

"Yeah," Sokka said with a grunt. Then, "I feel like I should thank you."

"What?" Zuko blinked, lifting his feet from Sokka's side. "Why?"

Sokka shrugged. "Because... well, this is gonna sound stupid. I know he's not as bad as I think, but I've wanted to do that ever since he messed with my sister. But I couldn't do it until I was THAT mad in just THAT moment, with him right there. So it was kind of... liberating, I guess? That might make me sick."

But Zuko shook his head, and then leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees and his chin on his arm. "No, I don't think it makes you sick. Believe me, there have been many times I felt that urge. With various people. Contrary to rumor, I only occasionally acted on them."

The younger boy offered him a grateful sort of grin. "So do you actually want to work on the patio today? Or do you want to watch six more Bruce Lee movies?"

Zuko found a smile and nodded toward the TV. "Maybe not six this time though," he amended. "How about we start with one and see where it goes from there?"

"Yeah, okay," Sokka replied with a snicker. After so much excitement for one afternoon, it seemed like something that would do them both some good, and it was nice to settle in on the couch in the glow of the television. Halfway through the film, Sokka pulled Zuko's feet into his lap from beside him. At first the other boy startled defensively, and Sokka had to offer him a sheepish grin as a truce. He wasn't sure himself exactly why he did it. Maybe because he thought that some physical comfort would do Zuko some good, no mater how small. Maybe because he wanted the other boy to know that he wasn't afraid of him, that nothing had changed and if anything he felt closer for having gone through the strange ordeal with him. Or maybe just because it felt kind of nice.