FIC: When He Was Bad (AtLA, NC-17)
When He Was Bad
By Keelywolfe
NC-17
Zuko/Sokka
Part six in the Insomniacs series
This will make little to no sense if you haven't read the previous chapters. Find them here:
Fathers and Sons
Sins of Your Fathers
Hunted
Caught By a Thread
fait accompli
Warnings: This is riding on the edge of non-con, folks, be aware.
~*~
The Western Air Temple may have been located the westerly part of the world but the pagodas themselves faced the south, the sunlight always streaming in to waken and warm the inhabitants as it made its way daily across the sky. It was something that Sokka had noticed almost absently, tracking the time with the movements of the sun, the way the shadows fell and lengthened as the day went by.
Never before had it seemed quite so ominous, the longer shading falling slowly into darkness as the sky pinkened and then reddened, the sky streaking into purple as the sun finally dipped below the horizon. Everyone gathered swiftly by the fire as nighttime carried a chill with it.
Sokka sat with his knees drawn up, watching the others settling in for the night. The last meal of the day was still cooking, Katara stirring their small portion of rice and the cloud of steam that rose with it carried a warm, earthy smell. Normally, it would have made his stomach churn with hunger but something else was already stirring there, lingering unpleasantly.
Unwillingly, his eyes were drawn across the fire, to another figure who was kneeling there, carefully pouring tea into their small, battered collection of cups. Zuko didn't so much as glance at him, picking up the tray and offering a serving to each member of their group, kneeling as needed with easy grace.
Teo was already settled into his blankets for the night and Sokka noted with little curiosity the way Haru was fussing over him, making sure he was comfortable. Once he might have been overflowing with interest but right now, the relationships of others held no fascination.
Don't think about it, Sokka told himself fiercely. Don't think about it or he might do something, might get up and walk away or he might lunge across the fire, his fingers itching to wrap about a pale throat, press his thumbs into the softest place at the base until he felt something give and the rattle of a last breath. Don't think, don't think--
"Sokka?" Softly, next to him and he flinched, half-turning automatically towards it and his hands were already rising defensively. Zuko was crouched next to him, the tray resting on one knee while he waited for Sokka to take his cup. For just a moment, their eyes met, deep blue on gold ones that were guileless and questioning, and for that moment, Sokka could pretend nothing had changed. He could remember another night, Zuko's fumbled attempts at telling a joke, his guarded curiosity when Sokka had called him aside to ask him about his...because he needed to rescue his...
"Sokka?" His father's voice from next to him, faint concern in it and Sokka mentally shook himself and took his cup.
"Sorry," he said, cheerily, and he was dimly astonished at how easy the lie felt. "Guess I was daydreaming." Don't think, don't think--
But he couldn't help but stiffen when Zuko brushed against him as he stood, perhaps deliberately, a reminder, and he gripped his cup so tightly that his hand ached. He sat very still as his father took his own cup of tea, his eyes on the glowing flames, and when he finally took a sip of his tea it was stone cold, bitter on his tongue.
Soon there would be food, meatless and bland but still food, and after that, the yawns would begin, bodies tangling themselves into blankets and the fire would die down to embers as breathing deepened and minds were lost into dreams, and all Sokka could do was sit here and wait, trying his damndest to not think about what was coming.
~~*~~
Later, when the shadows were at their deepest, Sokka was still awake, his thoughts still carefully blank and it wasn't until one of those shadows moved, separating itself from the others that something battered against the blockade he'd erected in his mind, terror thick and coppery at the back of his throat. There was a temptation to remain still, to pretend sleep and force Zuko to either risk trying to wake him or leave him be. But there was still a threat lingering at the back of his mind, one that he had little reason to doubt, and he believed, completely, that Zuko would make him very sorry if he tried it.
His legs threatened to cramp as he uncurled them and he felt like an old man rising to his feet, wincing at the tiny pops in his joints that sounded a loud as cannon fire to his ears. No one around them stirred, even his father slept on, blissfully unaware and for just a second, resentment was heavy in his chest, that his dad was lost in his own dreams instead of here where Sokka needed him. No one was going to save him, Sokka was coming to accept, barely able to acknowledge that some part of him hadn't quite believed.
Instead, he silently followed the shadow waiting for him, his bare feet icy on the stone floor and his heartbeat pounding in his ears as Zuko walked back to...to that place he'd been with his father, spirits, he couldn't, he couldn't--
But Zuko caught his arm when he hesitated, pulling Sokka along as he murmured, "Not here. I'd rather no one overhear and walk in on this."
At least in that they were in perfect agreement.
Faint moonlight followed them as they walked, dipping in windows and hallways as Zuko led them down dusty paths into one of the far pagodas, closing the door behind him.
They'd discovered when they got here that all of the sleep pallets were useless, rotted away through a hundred years of neglect and pillaging mice. The fingernail edge of the moon was visible through the window, its meager light filling the room to the brim and one corner had been cleared, a blanket spread out and waiting.
It was the blanket that cemented this in Sokka's mind, the sudden reality of preparation, and he could see it, Zuko in this room, methodically discarding the decaying straw tick in favor of the threadbare but clean blanket, readying this room for this, for them, and suddenly it was now.
Ignoring the sudden lurch in his gut, Sokka reached for his belt, jerking unsteadily at the ties. He could do this, he could, if he could just keep from thinking about it.
Hands on his stopped him. "Wait."
Sokka stiffened helplessly as arms slid around him from behind and pulled him in, holding him against the warm length of Zuko's body. For a long time they simply stood there, Sokka so tense he felt like his skin might split and his bones would spill out on the floor as he waited for Zuko to do something, to do what they'd come here for. But he didn't, just stood there with his arms circling Sokka loosely, his chin resting on Sokka's shoulder as he breathed in slow, deep rhythm.
Do something, Sokka couldn't scream, tension almost a vibration within him, and when Zuko finally did, one hand slowly moving, Sokka jerked so hard that both of them staggered. Balance was unthinkable, he couldn't stand anymore on his stiffened legs and when he sank down on the blanket, Zuko followed, arranging himself carefully behind Sokka, one leg on either side of him.
This...this wasn't what he'd been expecting; it wasn't what he'd seen the other night. Not this silent holding and Zuko was so warm, wherever his body touched was a shield against the chilly night and against his will, Sokka began to relax, not quite leaning back into that warmth. Gradually, slim hands shifted, one moving to rest against the back of Sokka's neck, sifting lightly through his loose hair to his scalp.
If it had been anyone else, Sokka might have groaned at the touch, leaned into it, let those fingertips working through his hair rub away his tension. As it was, it was all he could do not to flinch, sour spit in his mouth that he couldn't swallow away. Too gentle, too tender and if there was roughness he might be able to distance himself from it, if there was pain he could close his eyes and let himself feel it. These too-gentle touches, these caresses were not what he'd prepared himself for and to his horror, he felt his body responding to it. Tipping his head unconsciously against those tender fingers, a soft gasp escaping him as Zuko's other hand worked its way into his tunic, skin that should have been chilled instead entirely too hot against his bare chest.
Breath against his ear distracted him, followed by lips, Zuko softly kissing the sensitive skin there as his hand drifted down from Sokka's hair to cup his cheek, deliberately tipping his head into it. He couldn't help but whimper as the soft lobe was sucked into hot wetness, sharp teeth nipping lightly at it. Dimly, he was grateful for the closed door, didn’t want anyone else to hear, to ever see his shame.
Shame, yes, mingling with grief, at what he was slowly coming to realize he was losing here. A friend that might never have existed was turning him, pushing him to lie back on the thin blanket that barely cushioned the hard stone underneath. And he went, followed it unquestioningly and he didn't shy away even the tiniest bit as Zuko loomed over him, on top of him, resting his weight on his elbows.
Zuko's eyes were a bright gleam in the faint light, closing as he leaned in and the kiss wasn't unexpected as much as it was unwelcome, still so very tender and Sokka couldn't help biting this time, trying to force some small amount of roughness into this. If the pain wasn't going to be his, it was going to be somebody's and there was only one other person here.
Zuko only hissed softly, barely a sound, holding very still until Sokka finally let him go. Faint redness seeped into the kiss, salt-copper crimson but still, Zuko was only gentle, rubbing his swollen mouth over Sokka's and letting him feel what he'd done.
"Shhhh," Zuko murmured, the first word between them in this darkened room, this place where they were sharing unspeakable things. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Inwardly, Sokka screamed at the unfairness of it. That was what he wanted, what he needed, and Zuko only pulled aside his tunic with exquisite patience, one hand skimming over his chest, fingertips lingering as they found a nipple, peaked against the chill air. It made Sokka choke, arching up unwillingly and his lips parted for Zuko's inquisitive tongue, tangling with his own and there was heat building between them despite Sokka's desperate efforts against it. Their slick mouths clung, slipping apart for a breath and then back, their breath coming in heavy blurts between them, Sokka's edged with a thin whine. His nipple was hard against Zuko's circling fingertip and he was harder yet lower where their hips met, moving together in an inevitable rhythm.
To his shame, he protested wordlessly when Zuko pulled his mouth away, straining upwards to capture it again only to fall back when Zuko dipped his head instead, replacing his fingers with the wet heat of his mouth as he sucked softly on the pebbled flesh. Almost there was a tiny pain, teeth nibbling softly but it was too brief for Sokka to catch at, Zuko's mouth drifting lower, leaving a damp trail to cool behind it.
His hands were in Zuko's hair, Sokka realized dimly, clenching too tight and he heard the crackle of a few strands breaking, his own hands aching with the pressure but he couldn't let go, couldn't while Zuko pressed his face into his belly, lips tugging playfully at the faint line of hair beneath his belly button. One hand was quickly working the ties of Sokka's leggings open, shoving them down almost perfunctorily and Sokka barely had time to feel relief at being free before the slick heat of a firebender's mouth surrounded him.
A thin, desperate wail escaped him as he tugged viciously at Zuko's hair, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be used, quickly and dismissively, in revenge or hate, or something, there wasn't supposed to be this tenderness, this honest desire as Zuko's mouth worked him, touching him where he'd only had his own hands before.
It wasn't working out according to Sokka's ill-considered plan and he felt like he was at the edge of a cliff, arms pinwheeling desperately as he tried to find solid footing. There was none, only the hot pressure of a mouth around him as Zuko worked up and down and when he finally loosened his grip on Zuko's hair it had the unexpected effect of driving him deeper, the other boy no longer restrained by Sokka's clinging hands.
Even through the rich haze of pleasure surrounding him, Sokka still felt fingertips slipping between his legs to slide lower, down between the cheeks of his ass. He stiffened against the touch, trying to arch up away from it and for his trouble he slid deeper into the velvety wet heat of Zuko's mouth and the suction increased suddenly to almost painful. Choking on a moan, caught between two things he didn't want to want, Sokka could only blink up at the cracked ceiling, stone visible through fallen chunks of plaster.
An unpleasant chill swept over his wet skin as Zuko pulled off, pressed his face into the crease of Sokka's thigh, his breath almost ticklish as he panted heavily. He tipped his head on enough to look at Sokka before he pressed again, one fingertip circling that clenched place lightly.
"Relax," Zuko whispered, a puff of warm air against Sokka's skin. It had just the opposite effect, he tensed harder, felt it thrumming through him, a vibrating knot of please, please, don't that Zuko ignored. That slick fingertip pressed again, just barely inside and Sokka made a soft, protesting sound, muffled it against his own hand pressed tight over his mouth.
"Relax," he repeated, softer, pressing tender little kisses to sensitive skin, dipping lower, and leaving goose bumps to prickle behind each wet little touch. "Relax," Zuko whispered a third time, damp breath like a caress. "I'm not going to hurt you."
But that's not fair, Sokka couldn't protest, wishing fervently that Zuko was wrong and that the ever deepening pressure of his finger did hurt. His wish went ungranted, moonlight and gods alike ignoring him as that slender, oily digit slid ever deeper, not painful just strange until--
"Ah!" Sokka gasped, his hips lurching back on their own accord, seeking again that bright spark that had flashed inside him.
A soft chuckle gusted against his belly. "There, see? I told you this feels good."
Sokka couldn't spare any attention to resenting that, choked little breaths almost gagging him as Zuko nuzzled against his cock, tonguing at the slit in the tip before taking him in again and at least he wasn't talking now. If Sokka had to feel this than at least he didn't have to listen, drawing his knees up a little for leverage as he thrust up, giving in and just feeling. His ankles were still tangled in his pants, hobbled by frustrating cloth and he didn't care, shoved all his clotted and miserable feelings aside as he clenched his hands again in Zuko's hair, willingly, and rocked into the wet heat.
Hot breath was frantic against his belly, Zuko's nose almost buried against it and he made a startled sound, one finger inside Sokka sliding into two and that almost, almost hurt, not enough, not what he'd been wanting but Sokka had ceased to care about any of it, just wanted, something hungry and needy surging from deep within him, his own eyes clenched tight blinding him as he jerked up once more, twice, and then came into that sweet, too-hot mouth that swallowed almost eagerly around him.
He wasn't quite aware for long minutes after that, dimly feeling Zuko pulling away from him, hands on his ankles ridding him of the last hindrance of his clothes and it wasn't until he felt hands on his thighs pushing them apart that he was able to pry his eyes open again, a thin worm of panic starting to rise in him.
Zuko was hooking an arm under one of his knees, spreading him wide and exposing him in a way he hadn't before, kneeling between his spread legs and he was still mostly dressed, the fabric abrading lightly against the skin of Sokka's inner thighs but what he'd alternately dreaded and anticipated since before they'd even begun was going to happen and it was now.
Hot, blunt pressure against him, prying him open, and Sokka scrabbled for a hold on Zuko's shoulder, panic tightening his grip into the heavy silk of his tunic. Rich clothes, even as plain as they were, Fire Nation, and this would be what he remembered for his first time, Sokka realized, fucked over by Zuko again.
The thought made him laugh, tripping into half a sob as the pressure increased, Zuko leaning into him as his body finally gave and let him start the long, slow glide inside.
"I won't hurt you," Zuko was whispering, scattering little kisses over his face, against his mouth again and again. "Don't want to hurt you, I don't," over and over, so softly, his voice catching on a groan as he slowly pushed inside.
It seemed to take forever, Zuko filling every fraction of Sokka's body the moment it was offered, infinitesimal little movements as Sokka helplessly opened up to him, his tension unraveling in sweet kisses and touches, soft little words of encouragement whispered against him until he almost forgot that he didn't want to be here, almost believed, wished--
"Ahh!" Sokka whimpered, that little pressure point inside him flaring hotly again as Zuko rubbed against it and he felt a smile against his neck as Zuko did it again.
"There, that's it," Zuko crooned, keeping his motions smooth and steady, shallow thrusts that only offered pleasure. "Gods, you feel good, you're so tight, so good." A litany of words chanted into his throat, dissolving slowly into moans as the pace increased and it didn't hurt, only a faint ache of pressure inside but Sokka no longer cared, wriggling desperately in an attempt to make Zuko go faster, one of his hand busy between his legs, stroking his renewed hardness with near franticness. The other was clenched in the fabric at Zuko's shoulder, clutching him, trying to hold on to something and he felt the sudden tension seize him, his thrusts quickening abruptly, and suddenly wet heat was surging into him, filling him in ragged spurts, Zuko throwing his head back, tendons straining in his throat was he groaned and came.
The feel of it was so unexpected, alien and perfect at the same time, and Sokka stroked himself harder, his hand jarring against Zuko's stomach as he struggled for it, jerky little thrusts inside him driving him along until he finally bit his tongue on a cry, the wet heat of his own come splattering between them.
It only took him a moment to recover this time, enough to feel the deeply uncomfortable strain in his thighs as Zuko slumped down on him. Squirming awkwardly didn't seem to send the right message and finally Sokka pushed roughly on Zuko's shoulder, to little avail, snarling out in an embarrassingly reedy little voice, "Move!"
Zuko stirred only enough to raise his head, languid satisfaction in his eyes as he smirked. "Did you like that, Water Tribe?"
Sokka kept silent, turning his head away to look into the deeper darkness of the room. The moon had dipped lower, no longer peeking in at them and right then it was a mercy.
It only left his ear exposed, Zuko leaning down to lick at it with a nasty, wet swipe, "You should've," he whispered, running his tongue over the whorls of soft skin. "That was how your father fucked me."
His eyes flared open, snapping back to the smirking boy still pinning him down, "He did not, I watched, he--"
Zuko's smirk widened, his eyes coldly reflecting it. "You watched. For how long? Did it get you hard, watching him fuck me?"
"Shut up," Sokka whispered, eyes sliding closed again and he started struggling for real, couldn't hear this with Zuko still inside him, the evidence of his orgasm still wet between them.
Instantly, Zuko was holding him down, strong hands stilling him, "Stop, you'll hurt yourself. Hold still." Zuko pulled out of him, slowly, but it still felt like his insides were going to follow. Sokka whimpered, biting his lip and nearly flinched when Zuko kissed him, gently. "Shhh," he whispered into his mouth, "Don't tense up now, it's all right. That's it."
Tender again after his verbal brutality and the tears that sprang into Sokka's eyes only made him angry, biting his lip until he tasted blood as Zuko finally separated from him, still kneeling between Sokka's thighs as he briskly straightened his trousers and climbed to his feet.
Sokka had barely managed to sit up, grimacing at the growing ache inside, the feeling of wetness creeping down his thighs, when Zuko crouched suddenly and kissed him, and here was the roughness he'd wanted before, the crash of teeth and tongue against each other and both of them were panting for breath when Zuko finally wrenched away, turning his back as he stood.
"See you tomorrow," Zuko tossed over his shoulder, nothing like mockery in his voice, only plain matter-of-factness, a statement of truth and Sokka stared after him for a long moments before he slowly started pulling on his own clothes. It felt like every part of him ached, the faint pain deep inside him spreading throughout his body and it was heavier in his chest, horrible and thick.
He left the blanket where it was, uncaring if anyone else might discover it the next day. He doubted it; the pagodas were boring to explore, one empty room after another. It seemed to take much longer to walk back to the main courtyard and when he got there Zuko was already in his blankets, seemingly asleep.
He stood there for what seemed a long time, wobbling a little on shaky legs as he stared at the low rise of a body beneath blankets, and dimly he thought of his knife, still painfully sharp, the heft of it in his hand, of warm wetness sliding over his knuckles. A shiver went through him and Sokka shook himself a little, like stirring out of a dream and instead he went to his own blankets, curled up in them and in his exhaustion sleep was surprisingly easy to find.
He never saw another pair of eyes watching them, indigo and unreadable in the deepening darkness.
-finis-
Next Chapter
By Keelywolfe
NC-17
Zuko/Sokka
Part six in the Insomniacs series
This will make little to no sense if you haven't read the previous chapters. Find them here:
Fathers and Sons
Sins of Your Fathers
Hunted
Caught By a Thread
fait accompli
Warnings: This is riding on the edge of non-con, folks, be aware.
~*~
The Western Air Temple may have been located the westerly part of the world but the pagodas themselves faced the south, the sunlight always streaming in to waken and warm the inhabitants as it made its way daily across the sky. It was something that Sokka had noticed almost absently, tracking the time with the movements of the sun, the way the shadows fell and lengthened as the day went by.
Never before had it seemed quite so ominous, the longer shading falling slowly into darkness as the sky pinkened and then reddened, the sky streaking into purple as the sun finally dipped below the horizon. Everyone gathered swiftly by the fire as nighttime carried a chill with it.
Sokka sat with his knees drawn up, watching the others settling in for the night. The last meal of the day was still cooking, Katara stirring their small portion of rice and the cloud of steam that rose with it carried a warm, earthy smell. Normally, it would have made his stomach churn with hunger but something else was already stirring there, lingering unpleasantly.
Unwillingly, his eyes were drawn across the fire, to another figure who was kneeling there, carefully pouring tea into their small, battered collection of cups. Zuko didn't so much as glance at him, picking up the tray and offering a serving to each member of their group, kneeling as needed with easy grace.
Teo was already settled into his blankets for the night and Sokka noted with little curiosity the way Haru was fussing over him, making sure he was comfortable. Once he might have been overflowing with interest but right now, the relationships of others held no fascination.
Don't think about it, Sokka told himself fiercely. Don't think about it or he might do something, might get up and walk away or he might lunge across the fire, his fingers itching to wrap about a pale throat, press his thumbs into the softest place at the base until he felt something give and the rattle of a last breath. Don't think, don't think--
"Sokka?" Softly, next to him and he flinched, half-turning automatically towards it and his hands were already rising defensively. Zuko was crouched next to him, the tray resting on one knee while he waited for Sokka to take his cup. For just a moment, their eyes met, deep blue on gold ones that were guileless and questioning, and for that moment, Sokka could pretend nothing had changed. He could remember another night, Zuko's fumbled attempts at telling a joke, his guarded curiosity when Sokka had called him aside to ask him about his...because he needed to rescue his...
"Sokka?" His father's voice from next to him, faint concern in it and Sokka mentally shook himself and took his cup.
"Sorry," he said, cheerily, and he was dimly astonished at how easy the lie felt. "Guess I was daydreaming." Don't think, don't think--
But he couldn't help but stiffen when Zuko brushed against him as he stood, perhaps deliberately, a reminder, and he gripped his cup so tightly that his hand ached. He sat very still as his father took his own cup of tea, his eyes on the glowing flames, and when he finally took a sip of his tea it was stone cold, bitter on his tongue.
Soon there would be food, meatless and bland but still food, and after that, the yawns would begin, bodies tangling themselves into blankets and the fire would die down to embers as breathing deepened and minds were lost into dreams, and all Sokka could do was sit here and wait, trying his damndest to not think about what was coming.
~~*~~
Later, when the shadows were at their deepest, Sokka was still awake, his thoughts still carefully blank and it wasn't until one of those shadows moved, separating itself from the others that something battered against the blockade he'd erected in his mind, terror thick and coppery at the back of his throat. There was a temptation to remain still, to pretend sleep and force Zuko to either risk trying to wake him or leave him be. But there was still a threat lingering at the back of his mind, one that he had little reason to doubt, and he believed, completely, that Zuko would make him very sorry if he tried it.
His legs threatened to cramp as he uncurled them and he felt like an old man rising to his feet, wincing at the tiny pops in his joints that sounded a loud as cannon fire to his ears. No one around them stirred, even his father slept on, blissfully unaware and for just a second, resentment was heavy in his chest, that his dad was lost in his own dreams instead of here where Sokka needed him. No one was going to save him, Sokka was coming to accept, barely able to acknowledge that some part of him hadn't quite believed.
Instead, he silently followed the shadow waiting for him, his bare feet icy on the stone floor and his heartbeat pounding in his ears as Zuko walked back to...to that place he'd been with his father, spirits, he couldn't, he couldn't--
But Zuko caught his arm when he hesitated, pulling Sokka along as he murmured, "Not here. I'd rather no one overhear and walk in on this."
At least in that they were in perfect agreement.
Faint moonlight followed them as they walked, dipping in windows and hallways as Zuko led them down dusty paths into one of the far pagodas, closing the door behind him.
They'd discovered when they got here that all of the sleep pallets were useless, rotted away through a hundred years of neglect and pillaging mice. The fingernail edge of the moon was visible through the window, its meager light filling the room to the brim and one corner had been cleared, a blanket spread out and waiting.
It was the blanket that cemented this in Sokka's mind, the sudden reality of preparation, and he could see it, Zuko in this room, methodically discarding the decaying straw tick in favor of the threadbare but clean blanket, readying this room for this, for them, and suddenly it was now.
Ignoring the sudden lurch in his gut, Sokka reached for his belt, jerking unsteadily at the ties. He could do this, he could, if he could just keep from thinking about it.
Hands on his stopped him. "Wait."
Sokka stiffened helplessly as arms slid around him from behind and pulled him in, holding him against the warm length of Zuko's body. For a long time they simply stood there, Sokka so tense he felt like his skin might split and his bones would spill out on the floor as he waited for Zuko to do something, to do what they'd come here for. But he didn't, just stood there with his arms circling Sokka loosely, his chin resting on Sokka's shoulder as he breathed in slow, deep rhythm.
Do something, Sokka couldn't scream, tension almost a vibration within him, and when Zuko finally did, one hand slowly moving, Sokka jerked so hard that both of them staggered. Balance was unthinkable, he couldn't stand anymore on his stiffened legs and when he sank down on the blanket, Zuko followed, arranging himself carefully behind Sokka, one leg on either side of him.
This...this wasn't what he'd been expecting; it wasn't what he'd seen the other night. Not this silent holding and Zuko was so warm, wherever his body touched was a shield against the chilly night and against his will, Sokka began to relax, not quite leaning back into that warmth. Gradually, slim hands shifted, one moving to rest against the back of Sokka's neck, sifting lightly through his loose hair to his scalp.
If it had been anyone else, Sokka might have groaned at the touch, leaned into it, let those fingertips working through his hair rub away his tension. As it was, it was all he could do not to flinch, sour spit in his mouth that he couldn't swallow away. Too gentle, too tender and if there was roughness he might be able to distance himself from it, if there was pain he could close his eyes and let himself feel it. These too-gentle touches, these caresses were not what he'd prepared himself for and to his horror, he felt his body responding to it. Tipping his head unconsciously against those tender fingers, a soft gasp escaping him as Zuko's other hand worked its way into his tunic, skin that should have been chilled instead entirely too hot against his bare chest.
Breath against his ear distracted him, followed by lips, Zuko softly kissing the sensitive skin there as his hand drifted down from Sokka's hair to cup his cheek, deliberately tipping his head into it. He couldn't help but whimper as the soft lobe was sucked into hot wetness, sharp teeth nipping lightly at it. Dimly, he was grateful for the closed door, didn’t want anyone else to hear, to ever see his shame.
Shame, yes, mingling with grief, at what he was slowly coming to realize he was losing here. A friend that might never have existed was turning him, pushing him to lie back on the thin blanket that barely cushioned the hard stone underneath. And he went, followed it unquestioningly and he didn't shy away even the tiniest bit as Zuko loomed over him, on top of him, resting his weight on his elbows.
Zuko's eyes were a bright gleam in the faint light, closing as he leaned in and the kiss wasn't unexpected as much as it was unwelcome, still so very tender and Sokka couldn't help biting this time, trying to force some small amount of roughness into this. If the pain wasn't going to be his, it was going to be somebody's and there was only one other person here.
Zuko only hissed softly, barely a sound, holding very still until Sokka finally let him go. Faint redness seeped into the kiss, salt-copper crimson but still, Zuko was only gentle, rubbing his swollen mouth over Sokka's and letting him feel what he'd done.
"Shhhh," Zuko murmured, the first word between them in this darkened room, this place where they were sharing unspeakable things. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Inwardly, Sokka screamed at the unfairness of it. That was what he wanted, what he needed, and Zuko only pulled aside his tunic with exquisite patience, one hand skimming over his chest, fingertips lingering as they found a nipple, peaked against the chill air. It made Sokka choke, arching up unwillingly and his lips parted for Zuko's inquisitive tongue, tangling with his own and there was heat building between them despite Sokka's desperate efforts against it. Their slick mouths clung, slipping apart for a breath and then back, their breath coming in heavy blurts between them, Sokka's edged with a thin whine. His nipple was hard against Zuko's circling fingertip and he was harder yet lower where their hips met, moving together in an inevitable rhythm.
To his shame, he protested wordlessly when Zuko pulled his mouth away, straining upwards to capture it again only to fall back when Zuko dipped his head instead, replacing his fingers with the wet heat of his mouth as he sucked softly on the pebbled flesh. Almost there was a tiny pain, teeth nibbling softly but it was too brief for Sokka to catch at, Zuko's mouth drifting lower, leaving a damp trail to cool behind it.
His hands were in Zuko's hair, Sokka realized dimly, clenching too tight and he heard the crackle of a few strands breaking, his own hands aching with the pressure but he couldn't let go, couldn't while Zuko pressed his face into his belly, lips tugging playfully at the faint line of hair beneath his belly button. One hand was quickly working the ties of Sokka's leggings open, shoving them down almost perfunctorily and Sokka barely had time to feel relief at being free before the slick heat of a firebender's mouth surrounded him.
A thin, desperate wail escaped him as he tugged viciously at Zuko's hair, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be used, quickly and dismissively, in revenge or hate, or something, there wasn't supposed to be this tenderness, this honest desire as Zuko's mouth worked him, touching him where he'd only had his own hands before.
It wasn't working out according to Sokka's ill-considered plan and he felt like he was at the edge of a cliff, arms pinwheeling desperately as he tried to find solid footing. There was none, only the hot pressure of a mouth around him as Zuko worked up and down and when he finally loosened his grip on Zuko's hair it had the unexpected effect of driving him deeper, the other boy no longer restrained by Sokka's clinging hands.
Even through the rich haze of pleasure surrounding him, Sokka still felt fingertips slipping between his legs to slide lower, down between the cheeks of his ass. He stiffened against the touch, trying to arch up away from it and for his trouble he slid deeper into the velvety wet heat of Zuko's mouth and the suction increased suddenly to almost painful. Choking on a moan, caught between two things he didn't want to want, Sokka could only blink up at the cracked ceiling, stone visible through fallen chunks of plaster.
An unpleasant chill swept over his wet skin as Zuko pulled off, pressed his face into the crease of Sokka's thigh, his breath almost ticklish as he panted heavily. He tipped his head on enough to look at Sokka before he pressed again, one fingertip circling that clenched place lightly.
"Relax," Zuko whispered, a puff of warm air against Sokka's skin. It had just the opposite effect, he tensed harder, felt it thrumming through him, a vibrating knot of please, please, don't that Zuko ignored. That slick fingertip pressed again, just barely inside and Sokka made a soft, protesting sound, muffled it against his own hand pressed tight over his mouth.
"Relax," he repeated, softer, pressing tender little kisses to sensitive skin, dipping lower, and leaving goose bumps to prickle behind each wet little touch. "Relax," Zuko whispered a third time, damp breath like a caress. "I'm not going to hurt you."
But that's not fair, Sokka couldn't protest, wishing fervently that Zuko was wrong and that the ever deepening pressure of his finger did hurt. His wish went ungranted, moonlight and gods alike ignoring him as that slender, oily digit slid ever deeper, not painful just strange until--
"Ah!" Sokka gasped, his hips lurching back on their own accord, seeking again that bright spark that had flashed inside him.
A soft chuckle gusted against his belly. "There, see? I told you this feels good."
Sokka couldn't spare any attention to resenting that, choked little breaths almost gagging him as Zuko nuzzled against his cock, tonguing at the slit in the tip before taking him in again and at least he wasn't talking now. If Sokka had to feel this than at least he didn't have to listen, drawing his knees up a little for leverage as he thrust up, giving in and just feeling. His ankles were still tangled in his pants, hobbled by frustrating cloth and he didn't care, shoved all his clotted and miserable feelings aside as he clenched his hands again in Zuko's hair, willingly, and rocked into the wet heat.
Hot breath was frantic against his belly, Zuko's nose almost buried against it and he made a startled sound, one finger inside Sokka sliding into two and that almost, almost hurt, not enough, not what he'd been wanting but Sokka had ceased to care about any of it, just wanted, something hungry and needy surging from deep within him, his own eyes clenched tight blinding him as he jerked up once more, twice, and then came into that sweet, too-hot mouth that swallowed almost eagerly around him.
He wasn't quite aware for long minutes after that, dimly feeling Zuko pulling away from him, hands on his ankles ridding him of the last hindrance of his clothes and it wasn't until he felt hands on his thighs pushing them apart that he was able to pry his eyes open again, a thin worm of panic starting to rise in him.
Zuko was hooking an arm under one of his knees, spreading him wide and exposing him in a way he hadn't before, kneeling between his spread legs and he was still mostly dressed, the fabric abrading lightly against the skin of Sokka's inner thighs but what he'd alternately dreaded and anticipated since before they'd even begun was going to happen and it was now.
Hot, blunt pressure against him, prying him open, and Sokka scrabbled for a hold on Zuko's shoulder, panic tightening his grip into the heavy silk of his tunic. Rich clothes, even as plain as they were, Fire Nation, and this would be what he remembered for his first time, Sokka realized, fucked over by Zuko again.
The thought made him laugh, tripping into half a sob as the pressure increased, Zuko leaning into him as his body finally gave and let him start the long, slow glide inside.
"I won't hurt you," Zuko was whispering, scattering little kisses over his face, against his mouth again and again. "Don't want to hurt you, I don't," over and over, so softly, his voice catching on a groan as he slowly pushed inside.
It seemed to take forever, Zuko filling every fraction of Sokka's body the moment it was offered, infinitesimal little movements as Sokka helplessly opened up to him, his tension unraveling in sweet kisses and touches, soft little words of encouragement whispered against him until he almost forgot that he didn't want to be here, almost believed, wished--
"Ahh!" Sokka whimpered, that little pressure point inside him flaring hotly again as Zuko rubbed against it and he felt a smile against his neck as Zuko did it again.
"There, that's it," Zuko crooned, keeping his motions smooth and steady, shallow thrusts that only offered pleasure. "Gods, you feel good, you're so tight, so good." A litany of words chanted into his throat, dissolving slowly into moans as the pace increased and it didn't hurt, only a faint ache of pressure inside but Sokka no longer cared, wriggling desperately in an attempt to make Zuko go faster, one of his hand busy between his legs, stroking his renewed hardness with near franticness. The other was clenched in the fabric at Zuko's shoulder, clutching him, trying to hold on to something and he felt the sudden tension seize him, his thrusts quickening abruptly, and suddenly wet heat was surging into him, filling him in ragged spurts, Zuko throwing his head back, tendons straining in his throat was he groaned and came.
The feel of it was so unexpected, alien and perfect at the same time, and Sokka stroked himself harder, his hand jarring against Zuko's stomach as he struggled for it, jerky little thrusts inside him driving him along until he finally bit his tongue on a cry, the wet heat of his own come splattering between them.
It only took him a moment to recover this time, enough to feel the deeply uncomfortable strain in his thighs as Zuko slumped down on him. Squirming awkwardly didn't seem to send the right message and finally Sokka pushed roughly on Zuko's shoulder, to little avail, snarling out in an embarrassingly reedy little voice, "Move!"
Zuko stirred only enough to raise his head, languid satisfaction in his eyes as he smirked. "Did you like that, Water Tribe?"
Sokka kept silent, turning his head away to look into the deeper darkness of the room. The moon had dipped lower, no longer peeking in at them and right then it was a mercy.
It only left his ear exposed, Zuko leaning down to lick at it with a nasty, wet swipe, "You should've," he whispered, running his tongue over the whorls of soft skin. "That was how your father fucked me."
His eyes flared open, snapping back to the smirking boy still pinning him down, "He did not, I watched, he--"
Zuko's smirk widened, his eyes coldly reflecting it. "You watched. For how long? Did it get you hard, watching him fuck me?"
"Shut up," Sokka whispered, eyes sliding closed again and he started struggling for real, couldn't hear this with Zuko still inside him, the evidence of his orgasm still wet between them.
Instantly, Zuko was holding him down, strong hands stilling him, "Stop, you'll hurt yourself. Hold still." Zuko pulled out of him, slowly, but it still felt like his insides were going to follow. Sokka whimpered, biting his lip and nearly flinched when Zuko kissed him, gently. "Shhh," he whispered into his mouth, "Don't tense up now, it's all right. That's it."
Tender again after his verbal brutality and the tears that sprang into Sokka's eyes only made him angry, biting his lip until he tasted blood as Zuko finally separated from him, still kneeling between Sokka's thighs as he briskly straightened his trousers and climbed to his feet.
Sokka had barely managed to sit up, grimacing at the growing ache inside, the feeling of wetness creeping down his thighs, when Zuko crouched suddenly and kissed him, and here was the roughness he'd wanted before, the crash of teeth and tongue against each other and both of them were panting for breath when Zuko finally wrenched away, turning his back as he stood.
"See you tomorrow," Zuko tossed over his shoulder, nothing like mockery in his voice, only plain matter-of-factness, a statement of truth and Sokka stared after him for a long moments before he slowly started pulling on his own clothes. It felt like every part of him ached, the faint pain deep inside him spreading throughout his body and it was heavier in his chest, horrible and thick.
He left the blanket where it was, uncaring if anyone else might discover it the next day. He doubted it; the pagodas were boring to explore, one empty room after another. It seemed to take much longer to walk back to the main courtyard and when he got there Zuko was already in his blankets, seemingly asleep.
He stood there for what seemed a long time, wobbling a little on shaky legs as he stared at the low rise of a body beneath blankets, and dimly he thought of his knife, still painfully sharp, the heft of it in his hand, of warm wetness sliding over his knuckles. A shiver went through him and Sokka shook himself a little, like stirring out of a dream and instead he went to his own blankets, curled up in them and in his exhaustion sleep was surprisingly easy to find.
He never saw another pair of eyes watching them, indigo and unreadable in the deepening darkness.
-finis-
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