"Sokka, don't you think you're overthinking this a little too much?" Aang asked from where he was perched on Sokka's bed.

Sokka, who had been buried in the depths of his closet, poked his head out. A sleeve of one of his sweaters stuck to his shaved side in a ridiculous sort of way. The Water Tribesman batted it away before fixing Aang with a stern glare.

"Not at all. I think I'm being perfectly rational."

"Uh, Sokka, you're going to see one of the worst traveling theatre troupes from the Fire Nation."

"That's an unpopular opinion," Sokka pointed out even though he was sure it was true.

Aang rolled his eyes at Sokka. "And then you're going to a restaurant that is known for cabbage. You don't even like cabbage!"

Sokka shrugged. "And you say I'm overthinking things."

"All I'm saying, Sokka, is you've been digging through your closet for well over an hour to hang out with a guy you've got a crush on," Aang said.

Honestly, he was beginning to regret telling his friends about his maybe-crush on Zuko. Okay, it was a full-fledged crush, but, like, who cares about the specifics? They obviously were reacting to the news in different ways than Sokka. Katara was overly doting and asked him a million questions like a mother would. Toph asked him if they'd slept together yet. And Aang, well Aang was all for taking it slow like he did with Katara for seven years. Sokka just wanted to keep Zuko interested, and in order to do that, he had to be sexy.

"He flirted back," Sokka said.

"But this is just hanging out. It's not like it's a date or anything. Do you really need to be so worried about your outfit?"

Sokka huffed out a sigh. "Aang. I don't think you understand. I want him to flirt with me again. Therefore, I need to look good."

Aang rolled his eyes at him, but Sokka paid him no mind, opting instead to duck back into his closet. It was a mess in there. He'd already been through half of his wardrobe. He didn't realize just how many graphic t-shirts he owned until he had to find something for this not-date.

"How about this?" he finally asked after finding something passable.

Sokka held up a dark blue button-up and showed it to Aang. His friend's eyes lit up upon seeing it. He gave a quick nod.

"That shirt, black jeans, and those brown chukka boots you showed me twenty-two minutes ago," he said.

The Water Tribesman heaved out a sigh of relief. "Fucking finally," he said. He tossed the shirt onto his bed and placed his hands on his hips. "Now to accessorize!"

Aang groaned. "Accessorize?" he asked if it were the most awful thing he could be doing.

"What?" Sokka asked. "I can't go out looking anything less than my best."

"I guess."

"You guess?"

"I think you'll look fine with just the clothes."

"How under Agni's sun are we going to be related?" Sokka asked.

"Because of my charming nature and my humor?"

Sokka debated that for a second before conceding. "Fine. But that's all you got going for you, buddy," he said. "When are we doing that whole thing, by the way? The whole R-I-N-G thing?"

Aang's eyes shot toward Sokka's closed door before shifting back over to him. "Uhh. Maybe in like, two weeks. I saw something I think she'll like, and I think I need one more paycheck to afford it."

"Dude, you know my sister just as well as I do," he said. "If it's from you and it ends in marriage, she'd be fine with something from a quarter machine."

"Really? You think so?"

Sokka let his head thwack against the doorframe of his closet. "Don't actually get her a quarter machine ring!"

Aang gave him a sheepish smile, and Sokka rolled his eyes, opting instead to look at the back of his closet door where he hung all of his accessories. He picked up his whalebone necklace and draped it around his wrist. The old, family heirloom was a staple of his casual wardrobe. He wasn't going to give up on it now. He also looked at the variety of bags that he had hanging on the back of his door. His eyes settled on a green, Earth Kingdom bag that he'd bought ages ago and never worn.

"What do you think about this?" he asked, holding it up to Aang.

His bald-headed friend's face scrunched up in disgust. "Is that a murse?"

"A murse? What the fuck is that?"

"Ya know, a murse. Man purse mushed together to make, murse."

Sokka blinked at him once, twice, three times. "Uh. No. It's not a murse. It's a really cool bag," he said defensively.

"It's definitely a murse," Aang concluded. "Why did you even buy it? It's green. You never wear green."

Sokka grabbed another accessory off of the back of his door. "It matches this belt perfectly!"

"Is that an Earth Rumble IV belt?" he asked, stunned.

"Hell yeah it is! I took it from Toph. She didn't care to keep it."

"Is that how wrestling belts work?" Aang asked. "Aren't you supposed to bring them back when the title transfers or something?"

Sokka shrugged. "Beats me. She hasn't asked for it back, so."

"The belt is cool, but it doesn't make that," Aang said, pointing to his bag, "any less of a murse."

Sokka scowled. "Fine. Katara can settle this," he said as he threw open his bedroom door. "Katara! Is my green bag a murse?"

"Yeah," came her immediate reply from his living room. "It is."

"Now, shut the fuck up and get ready, Snoozles!" Toph shouted. "Otherwise you're going to miss your date altogether!"

"It's not a date!"

Sokka turned to lock the door of his apartment. This was it. He was leaving. He was going to meet up with Zuko. The guy that Sokka had a big, fat, dangerous crush on. The guy whose voice was that perfect mixture of honey and smoke. The guy whose every word Sokka had been hanging off of since they started texting a few weeks earlier. They were going to hang out. It was time to go. Yup. He should have been moving. He should have been walking down those stairs at the end of the hallway after Aang and Toph. But he wasn't.

Instead, he was standing beside Katara, frozen in place. His sister leaned against the wall, watching him.

"Uh... Sokka?" she asked after a full 120 seconds of just standing there.

"What if I mess this up, Katara?" he asked softly, staring at the door of his apartment, his hands, the floor, anything to avoid looking at his sister's sympathetic gaze.

"Sokka, you can't just-"

He cut her off. "Katara, I know I can't. I can't let what happened with Yue hold me back forever, but I can't help it. I'm scared that I'll fuck it up again."

"You didn't fuck it up before," she said softly. "That wasn't your fault."

Sokka turned to look at his sister, a certain fury in his eyes. He wanted to argue with her that it was his fault. His stupid mistakes had led to one collosal, unfixable mess, but as soon as he saw her empathetic features, he felt himself deflate. It was no use arguing with Katara. She was only trying to help him.

Instead, he said, "I'm a cop, Katara. I'm supposed to save people... If I can't..." he said, allowing those truly lost feelings he felt to show through his eyes. "What do I do?"

She smiled at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're worth more than what you can give to other people, you deserve love too," she said. "You give your heart what it wants. I can't promise that nothing bad will happen because life is life. But you deserve to at least try."

"Do you really believe that?"

She pulled him into a bruising hug. "Of course I do. I would never lie to you."

When they separated, he gave his sister a waxing smile. "Thanks, Katara."

Sokka's palms were sweating. They were dripping, gross messes at his sides as he waited for Zuko outside of the playhouse located in the upper ring of Ba Sing Se. The show was due to start in ten minutes, not that Sokka was particularly concerned with actually watching the play. He was expecting to sit in the balcony seats all evening, making fun of the shitty acting. That's not why he was nervous. Rather, he was nervous about Zuko. The tattoo artist was late, which didn't seem like him at all. He'd never gotten that impression of him while they were talking. He'd actually gotten the exact opposite idea. Zuko seemed to live by his schedule. He didn't often deviate from it. So why was he late now of all times? Why when Sokka was a big ass, festering ball of nerves?

He'd gotten there early just so he could buy their tickets. Apparently, that was a good thing to do, too, because apparently this group was pretty popular. They were a Fire Nation born theatre troupe that travelled all across the four nations. Ba Sing Se was one of the last stops for the playwright Puan Tin's newest show, the Boy in the Iceberg. It was based around the legends from ye olden days. Apparently, back then people could bend the elements at their will. Sokka didn't believe any of that hooey, but then again, who actually knew? Still, it was a cute idea for a play. Everyone else in Ba Sing Se must have thought so, too. The show was almost sold out by the time he'd gotten there. He'd only managed to snag a couple of seats in the nosebleed section, not that he minded. He planned to laugh his ass off the entire time anyhow.

He wouldn't be able to do that, though, if Zuko didn't show up. Like, honestly, was he really that bad to be around? He couldn't be otherwise Katara would have told him. He was about to text Zuko when he saw his messy head of black hair bolting through the crowd of people outside of the playhouse. Sokka breathed a sigh of relief. He had to admit that he was afraid he was going to get stood up. Not that they were going on a date or anything for which he could get stood up. He really needed to delete the word date from his vocabulary for the night...

When Zuko approached, Sokka smiled at him. "It's about time you showed up," he said in an attempt to mask the relief he felt at Zuko's presence.

His winded presence. His face was flushed red from exertion, and his chest was heaving. "Sorry-" he huffed as he rested his hands on his knees. He huffed out several more breaths before, "Fuck."

Sokka blinked. "Uh. Did you run here?"

"I-" huff. "missed my-" huff huff. "train."

Sokka couldn't help but snort. "Why didn't you call me? I rode my motorcycle here," he said. "I would have come to get you if you had asked."

Zuko looked up at him from his bent position. "I'll remember that-" huff. "-for next time."

"C'mon, dork," Sokka said with a chuckle as he displayed their tickets. "Let's get you inside before you keel over on me."

The pair of them made it past the ticket booth to the auditorium where Zuko collapsed down into his seat.

"Remind me never to do that shit again," he said.

Sokka raised a brow at him. "Out of shape?"

Zuko shook his head. "Just not a runner."

"Are you sure? I haven't gotten my run in today, so I figured we'd run to dinner."

A look of pure misery spread onto Zuko's features, and a little of his color drained away. "What?" he asked in a small voice.

A cheshire grin spread onto Sokka's lips. "I'm kidding!" he said. "I'm afraid if we do that, you'll never make it. We can take the bike."

Zuko rolled his eyes.

"How did you miss your train anyhow?" Sokka asked as he got settled.

"Oh. Right. Uh," he said. He dug into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, cellophane wrapped package. He held it out to Sokka. "I saw this on my way, so I stopped to get it for you. It made me miss the train, but I thought it was worth it."

Sokka took the package into his hands and looked at its contents. Through the cellophane, he could see something that looked particularly familiar. The label on it confirmed his suspicions.

"Is this blubbered seal jerky?" he asked excitedly.

Zuko nodded. "Yeah. You mentioned you like it, so," he said. "I stopped to grab it. You do like it, right?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely!" Sokka said. "I haven't had this in forever. You don't see it much in Ba Sing Se. And when you do, it's so expensive."

Sokka paused at that thought, his brows knitting downward.

"Zuko, how much did you spend on this? This was expensive, wasn't it?"

He didn't answer. Sokka, in turn, attempted to hand the package back.

"Zuko, I can't accept something so expensive. I'd feel horrible."

And he did. He did feel horrible. He had no idea that Zuko was going to do this. It seemed like a last minute, spur of the moment decision, and Sokka was mad that he didn't think of it first! He could have gotten Zuko a bomb-ass gift. But then again, had he done it, he would have made this whole outing feel more like the d-word. He couldn't have the d-word.

"Please, take it. You being here with me is enough," Zuko said as he pushed the package back toward Sokka.

Well, he really did want it, and Zuko was insisting. He also couldn't just refuse a gift, now could he? That would be rude of him. Zuko's hands fell on top of his own, closing his fingers around the cellophane for good measure. The man's hands felt warm around his, and he felt his heart stutter. It was such a simple action, but Sokka couldn't help but overthink it. He couldn't help but overthink how well their hands fit together. Sokka looked up from their hands to Zuko's golden eyes. He hoped that he could put as much gratitude and sincerity into his gaze as he felt inside. He couldn't let Zuko go without the gesture being appreciated.

"Thank you," he finally said.

And just as he was about to say something else, something way more incriminating, the lights dimmed around them. The pair of them quickly and very awkwardly separated. They'd lingered there, hands touching for way too long to be considered just friendly. Sokka swallowed. Fuck. A glance beside him showed a very embarrassed Zuko. He was now slumped in his seat like a limp noodle. His head rested against the back of the chair, his eyes geared toward the ceiling.

"Are you sure we have to sit through it?" he asked with an audible groan.. "Can't we just go straight to dinner and avoid this?"

"Shhh!" Sokka said, holding a singular finger to his lips. "Zuko! It's rude to talk in a theatre."

He groaned again, this time more dramatically. "You're kidding, right?"

The Water Tribesman looked at the Fire Nation native beside him with the cheekiest grin he could muster up. "I only take talking in the form of biting criticism," he said. "This is not the complaint department, Sir. If you'd like the complaint department, I can kindly direct you after the show."

Zuko promptly flipped him the bird. Sokka was worried that he'd actually pissed him off, but as the curtains opened and the light from the stage reflected onto Zuko's face, Sokka saw the remnants of a smile resting on his lips.

"That was single handedly the worst play that I have ever seen," Sokka concluded as they walked out of the theatre.

"I warned you," Zuko said.

"Like. Honestly! That female protagonist was whiny. All she did was cry," he said. "I don't remember the legends saying anything like that. Like. Butchered."

"We could have been at dinner, enjoying something to eat, but you wanted to suffer," Zuko said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Sokka led them down the sidewalk toward the parking tower beside the theatre. He only spared Zuko's comment a brief eye roll.

"I had to see for myself," he said. "Besides, you know you enjoyed being able to sit up there and trash talk the show the entire time."

"Half of the time," Zuko corrected. "I enjoyed it all the way up until they kicked us out of the theatre."

"Hey! It's not my fault that that dude in front of us complained."

There had been some older guy with a really nice mustache and goatee that had ratted on them halfway through the show. Apparently, he didn't like Sokka and Zuko's commentary. But what wasn't there to like? They had plenty of constructive criticism for the actors. And by that, Sokka meant that they literally ripped them a new one. It would fucking figure that the only person who seemed to care about the shitty show would be the man directly in front of them.

"Sokka, when he shushed you, you only got louder," he said.

"The sound of his shushing temporarily impaired my hearing," he said with a shrug. "I couldn't hear myself talk anymore."

The glare that he received in return was nothing short of incredulous. Sokka countered it with a cheeky grin.

"Here she is," Sokka said proudly when he noticed that they were closing in on his bike.

It was an old school cruiser with high handlebars that he had put together when he was fresh out of the police academy. His dad had helped him the best that he could, but Sokka found that Piandao had a certain eye for mechanics, especially with classic bikes. He'd dubbed the beauty Space Bike because of her deep metallic purple paint job.

Zuko whistled lowly at the sight of the bike, and Sokka felt a spark of pride ignite in his chest. He walked around to the side bag and pulled out his helmet. He held it out to Zuko.

"Aren't you going to need it?" Zuko asked as his hands wrapped around the plastic.

"I've been riding this thing for years," he responded as he settled himself down onto the seat. "I'll be okay just taking it down the road to get to the restaurant."

"Are you sure?" Zuko asked. He seemed almost apprehensive.

Sokka fixed him with a smile and held out his hand to Zuko.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

Zuko furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"I'm asking if you trust me because right now," he said, "it doesn't really feel like you trust my motorcycle expertise."

A dusting of crimson spread across Zuko's features. "I mean, yeah, I do," he spluttered. A groan and an eye roll followed. "Fuck it."

Sokka watched as Zuko promptly tucked the helmet underneath his arm and took Sokka's hand. For the second time that night, his warmth radiated across Sokka's skin. For the second time, he thought about how well their hands fit together. Zuko's were on the small side, but they were strong from his work. And Sokka's were rough and calloused and meant to protect. A thought briefly fluttered across his mind. I can protect Zuko. A dangerous thought, but one that Sokka wanted to believe. He wanted to believe that with his own two hands, he could protect Zuko from whatever horrors that were in his past and those that would surely come in his future.

Those thoughts were amplified as he helped Zuko to settle himself down onto the bike behind him. Simply because of the close proximity, Zuko's warmth spread through the rest of him. Sokka felt himself relax. It had been a long time since he'd had someone on the bike behind him. It had been since Yue. He'd forgotten just how nice it was.

"This won't be too much having two people on this thing?" Zuko asked.

Sokka shook his head. "You said you trusted me!"

"I do! I'm just... nervous."

He turned to face Zuko, a carefree, casual smile in place. "You have nothing to worry about, hot stuff," he said before he cringed. Hot stuff? Really, Sokka? "Get the helmet on."

Zuko nodded mutely before he put the helmet on. Sokka twisted the key in the ignition of the bike and glanced back at Zuko again. The helmet was on. He revved the engine.

"Hang on!"

"To what!?" Zuko called back over the engine.

"Me!"

Sokka pulled the bike out of its parking spot, and as soon as he had it rolling, he felt Zuko jerk into action. Warm, strong arms wrapped around Sokka as they made their way out of the parking garage. They rode out onto the main street under the hazy glow of twilight.

He loved riding his bike. He loved the feeling of the wind in his hair and the world rushing past him. And he especially loves having someone to share his exhilaration with. Zuko gripped onto him tightly, and oddly enough, Sokka found solace in it. It was something warm that he was going to secretly indulge in while he had the chance. Having someone close again... He craved it.

The ride ended all too soon, though. Their destination had come into view. The Cabbage House Restaurant was apparently one of the best in the upper ring. As the name alluded to, it was a cabbage themed restaurant that Zuko had suggested they give a try. Sokka wasn't exactly thrilled to try it because he wasn't a very big fan of cabbage, as Aang had so rudely pointed out. He was really just using it as an excuse to spend some extra time with Zuko.

Once they walked inside, Sokka's eyes were assaulted by more green than he was used to seeing, even in a green city. Everything was green. The walls, the floor, the furniture. Of course there were different shades and hues, but shit. It couldn't get any greener than this. And the smell. He was honestly expecting it to smell like something Gran Gran would have cooked when he was a kid. Cooked cabbage always reminded him of smelly socks or a particularly rotten egg. Gran Gran's attempts at stewing it with the sea prunes when they were young had grown his aversion to the vegetable. But the Cabbage House didn't smell like sweaty, old socks. It didn't have that nasty rotten egg stench lingering in the air. It smelled good. It smelled like any normal restaurant with tasty food inside.

Sokka was impressed.

He and Zuko were shown to their table and given their menus. And as soon as the hostess left, they both relaxed.

"This is, uh, interesting," Zuko said.

"You mean over-the-top," Sokka replied. "It smells good, though, so I don't care."

"You always think about your stomach, don't you?" Zuko asked with a singular, quirked brow.

Sokka flashed a proud grin. "You got it, baby," he said with some added finger guns.

But those finger guns went limp as soon as he saw Zuko's face. His eyes were suddenly wide, and his brows were furrowed. What? Did say something- Fuck. He'd called Zuko baby. It was bad enough that he let hot stuff slip earlier, but baby? What in spirits' name was he thinking?

"Uh. Sorry," Sokka said, scratching the back of his head. "Force of habit, with uh, you know, the gaang."

"Don't worry about it," Zuko said as he buried himself behind his menu.

Their dinner was turning into something oddly reminiscent of their lunch at the Jasmine Dragon. All awkward silence and attempts to avoid one another's gazes. Was he ever going to just get comfortable around Zuko? They had had plenty of phone conversations, but the two times they'd ever actually hung out intentionally, he'd managed to tank it. Hard. Thank Tui and La the waiter came when he did. Placing their orders seemed to break the ever-present tension.

"Did you seriously just order something without cabbage from a place that specializes in cabbage?" Zuko asked in a deadpan.

"Yeaaaah?"

"Don't you think that's a little, you know, asinine?"

"Hey! If they didn't want me to order it, then they shouldn't have put it on the menu," he said with a shrug. "That's all I'm saying."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Do you not like cabbage?"

A pause. He gave a hesitant grin. "Uh. Nooooooo."

"Why are we here if you don't like cabbage?"

"Uh. Well, that's beside the point," he responded.

"I think that that is a very valid point."

"You never had Gran Gran's sea prune and cabbage stew," he justified.

"No, I haven't."

"Trust me. It's better without the cabbage," Sokka said with an infectious smile.

Zuko paused, seemingly lapsing into thought. He took a few moments before he said anything in response, and when he did, Sokka was surprised.

"You haven't told me much about your family, you know. Just about your sister."

Sokka's brows shot up as he considered this. He'd only been texting and talking to Zuko over the phone for about three weeks now. And during that time, he'd really been trying to avoid the topic of families. He loved his family, don't get him wrong, but there were enough skeletons in the closet that he wanted to avoid for as long as possible. He didn't need to drop his load of pain and trauma on Zuko's shoulders. Not yet, at least.

And from the way Zuko always danced around his own family, he figured it was safe to assume that the feeling was mutual.

"What do you want to know?" he eventually asked.

"Tell me a happy memory?" he asked.

That he could do. He could handle telling something happy. Sokka searched his memory for something fitting, and it wasn't long before he found something perfect.

"Oh! There was this one time that dad, Katara, and I went penguin sledding."

"What's that?" Zuko asked.

"It's when you can an otter penguin and use it as a sled," he said.

"I've never done that before. We never got snow back in the Fire Nation, so I've actually barely seen it. It wasn't until we moved here that I did."

"Well then," Sokka said as he picked up his water glass and took a sip. "I'll have to show you one day, won't I?"

Zuko smiled his tiny smile. "Yeah, you will."

A twist of excitement coursed through his stomach. Zuko had agreed that they should go penguin sledding together. Now, typically, that was a Katara and Aang date activity. It was actually how they'd met. Aang had come just for the penguins, and well, the rest was history. But Sokka wouldn't mind showing Zuko the ropes, and by that, he meant showing off how utterly awesome he was.

"But anyway, penguin sledding," Sokka continued. "Super common in the South Pole. Dad and Katara and I all went out one day. And it had snowed a lot the night before. We went early because you get the best snow that way, before all of the kids trample it down. Well, I got stuck in a drift, and it took dad and Katara two hours for them to dig me out. We missed breakfast and everything. Gran Gran was pissed."

"Was this when you were little?"

Sokka snorted. "Shit. No. This was last winter!"

Sokka's answer actually got a chuckle out of Zuko. It was that same lilting one that Sokka couldn't get enough of.

"Figures," he said.

"What?" Sokka asked, but Zuko waved him off.

"Nothing. You're just so carefree and happy. It's nice."

Sokka snorted. If only Zuko had re-met him just a year ago. He wouldn't have thought that at all. Spirits, Sokka probably wouldn't have been able to stomach that voice of his. He'd been drowning in his own misery, so having someone as beautiful as Zuko around... Beautiful, huh. That one had come out of nowhere. But his brain was right. Zuko was beautiful. His tiny smiles and chuckles that made Sokka's stomach flip. His golden eyes. And his scar, a feature that most people would find horrifying, Sokka found entrancing. He knew its origin. He knew its story, and Sokka couldn't bring himself to find it abhorrent. It was a piece of Zuko now, and Sokka would never hate anything about this man. Rather, he only found himself crushing harder. But they were friends. Just friends.

"My Uncle was so excited for me to go out tonight," Zuko said after a moment of Sokka's unintentional silence. "He said he was happy that I was going on my first date in a long time-"

The water that Sokka was in the process of drinking managed to lodge itself in his windpipe at Zuko's words. His glass hit the table with a thud that nearly knocked it over. There it was. There was the d-word he'd been trying to avoid. Zuko had said it, clear as day, and for that, Sokka was currently hacking up a lung.

"Shit! Fuck! Are you okay?" Zuko asked.

Sokka waved him off, but he was surely not okay. Zuko had said date. D-A-T-E. Date. It was too much for him to handle. His heart - and apparently his lungs - couldn't take it. He had just let himself inner monologue about the guy and come to the conclusion that they were friends. Where had this curveball come from?

"Ah fuck. Why did I say it like that? I'm stupid," he said. "I told him it wasn't a date, but you know Uncle. He overreacts."

"Did you want it to be a date?" Sokka asked.

Okay. What the fuck? Was that all that his oxygen deprived brain could think of? Did you want it to be a date? It made him sound desperate. Sokka was going to die. He really was. He was going to crawl into some deep, dark hole to live out the rest of his days in some embarrassed misery. He couldn't go on living.

"I didn't think you'd be interested," came Zuko's quietly, hardly audible reply.

Or maybe he could go on living. Who knew?

Sokka looked up at Zuko. Blue irises met gold. They stared at each other for a long time. Zuko's face was unsurprisingly aflame because of the nature of the conversation. The redness only seemed to make his golden eyes glow brighter. He was stunning. Sokka swallowed.

"I am," he said. "And I get it if you're not interested in me at all, but I like you."

"I like you, too," Zuko said as a tiny, fond smile crested his lips.

Sokka melted at the sight of that smile. The tenseness in his shoulders faded away and he relaxed. "So, this is a date then?" he asked.

Zuko's nod was almost imperceptible. Sokka surely didn't miss his telltale flush creeping along his skin. He was such an awkward turtle duck. Sokka couldn't take it. He reached across the table and took his hand away from the tablecloth that he was furiously twisting. Zuko looked up at him sharply, and Sokka offered a warm look. He intertwined their fingers together and squeezed Zuko's hand.

"Hey. Don't feel embarrassed," Sokka said. "There's nothing to be worried about."

"I know," Zuko responded eventually. "I'm just nervous."

"Have you never dated a guy before?" he asked.

"No, I have... It's just been a while is all," he said. "Have you?"

"No, but I've had crushes on guys before. I've always been turned down, though. I'm a bit of a disaster of a bisexual."

"The last time I dated anyone was before you know, the accident," he said. "His name was Lee."

"Huh. I wonder if I know him."

Zuko blinked at him. "Sokka," he said. "There's a million Lee's. I doubt you know him."

"Touché," Sokka said. "Regardless, I'm relieved."

"Relieved?"

"You don't know how many times I had to tell myself that this wasn't a date. I thought I was going to die."

"Really? That was what was happening?" Zuko asked. "I'm not going to lie, but I thought you were constipated."

Sokka groaned and let his head thunk down onto the table. "I mean, I called you baby. I was about to bury myself six feet under," he moaned. "I was afraid I offended you or something."

"Why?"

"How was I supposed to know that you were bi, too? I totally phished for that information ages ago when I told you about me and got nothin'."

"I'm not," Zuko said. "Bi, that is."

"You're not?" Sokka paled. Now he was worried. Did he fuck that up already? Was his assumption too bold or?

"I'm gay," Zuko said.

Oh. Oh. That was a good development. That was a very good development. He could definitely work with that.

"Well, shit," he said. "I could have sworn you were dating the scary girl at the shop."

"Oh, uh, Mai? I actually did date her," he said. "That's, uh, how I figured out I was gay."

"She turned you gay? I knew she was scary, but man... Buddy, that's rough."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "She didn't turn me gay. She just helped me realize that I wasn't interested in girls. She was a good cover story when I snuck out to go meet guys when I was a teenager, though."

"Your parents didn't know you were dating guys?" Sokka asked.

"They did. My mother was happy for me, but my father... wasn't. I wasn't living up to his expectations, he said."

For some reason, Sokka found that surprising. He had been pretty open with his dad when he found out that he had some interests in guys when he was a teenager. His dad hadn't cared. He'd embraced him with open arms. He couldn't help but feel for a teenage Zuko from years past, and his struggle to be good enough in his father's eyes. It made his heart ache.

"Well, we're adults now," Sokka said with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "And the only expectations we have to live up to are the ones that we set for ourselves."

"Yeah, you're right," Zuko said. Sokka felt the man across from him squeeze his hand. "Let's see where this goes."