FIC: Hunted (AtLA, NC-17)
Hunted
By Keelywolfe
Zuko/Sokka, Implied Zuko/Hakoda,
NC-17
Part Three, the Insomniacs series
Fathers and Sons
Sins of Your Fathers
Warnings: I'm going to give this series a general 'dark' warning, so if you're used to my funny, fluffy stories...this isn't it. Thanks.
~~*~~
Master Piandao had been a good teacher to Sokka, giving him not only training but also much needed confidence in the skills he'd already had. His teachings had been bold, facing his opponents head on and that suited Sokka just fine.
But that didn't mean he didn't know how to hunt. His stealth training had been in done in the arctic cold, a spear gripped in a gloved hand as he moved silently across ice and snow after his prey. It was easy enough to modify a learned skill, studying his prey for a few days as he relearned how to step across loose gravel silently, to shift with the wind to keep himself hidden, to hunt. Some things were never truly forgotten.
Crouching behind a large section of collapsed wall, Sokka watched, waiting for his time. His grip on his knife was sweaty, too slippery and he paused long enough to wipe his hand on his trouser leg. No room for mistakes here, he knew, there was one chance and one chance only.
There. He was moving into this section of the Air Temple alone as he always did just before the sunset, to go through certain forms, moving and shifting in ways that Aang had yet to master. He turned towards the lowering crest of the sun exactly as Sokka had known he would, exactly as he had done the past days that Sokka had watched him, only this day Sokka tightened his grip on his knife and moved on silent feet towards him.
Almost, Zuko noticed him in time, started to turn towards him but by that moment Sokka's body was already carrying them to the hard stone floor, Zuko's breath knocked loose by their combined weight. Already he was starting to struggle and Sokka had known since he was a child that some prey was dangerous, there could be no hesitation, no waiting and the second Zuko felt cold steel against his throat he went very still, his hands pressed flat against the floor from his attempt to rise.
"Don't move," Sokka hissed close to his ear, his cheek almost pressed against Zuko's hair. He kept the knife tight against Zuko's skin, close enough that he could feel the other boy's heat, his pulse rabbiting against Sokka's knuckles.
"Sokka?" Zuko said, equally soft and so bewildered, sweet apple innocence that was such a lie that Sokka bit the inside of his lip, tasted faint copper. Almost, Zuko tried to turn his head, went still again as the knife bit lightly into his skin.
"I'm only asking you once," Sokka said slowly, clearly. No mistakes here, no misunderstandings. "What the fuck are you doing to my father?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Zuko, astonishment in his voice but something else, something like hurt, and Sokka ignored it, so tired of Fire Nation lies. He'd trusted him, believed in him, defended him, and at the first opportunity, he'd done this.
Soft, bitter laughter. "Oh, please, play stupid. Give me an excuse." He felt liquid warmth slide over his fingers, and Zuko's breath hissed softly. "I saw you," Sokka breathed. "I know."
He felt the realization in the stiffening body beneath him, his knees tight on either side of Zuko's waist but he didn't fool himself into believing it was anything but the knife keeping him still. Body warmed metal held tight against that throbbing, vital artery, viciously sharp. Sokka had done that himself, scraping it against his whetstone until the edge was fine, nicking his testing thumb with barely any pressure at all.
"If you saw us, you already know what's going on," Zuko said. His voice was low, his breath stirring the dust beneath them.
"Bullshit! I want to know what you did to make him fuck you."
Their bodies were close enough that Sokka could feel Zuko take a sharp breath, the ripple of it moving through them both. "Are you crazy? I'm a firebender, not a witch! I didn't do anything to him."
"Liar!" Sokka breathed, close enough to feel the brush of Zuko's skin against his lips. "My dad would never do...do that unless you were making him."
The only sound for long moments was their breathing, Sokka's too-fast blurts measured against the slower beat of Zuko's, bodies trembling together in the honey-gold light of the setting sun. Bitter sweat was trailing down Sokka's forehead, stinging his eyes and he ducked his head a little without thinking, rubbing it away on the shoulder of Zuko's tunic. The other boy stayed perfectly still, unmoving as he was caught between the blade and Sokka's body.
Abruptly, Zuko tipped his head back and pressed against the knife and another faint surge of wet warmth flowed over Sokka's fingers, slickening them. "If you really think I would hurt him, or you, like that then go ahead and do it."
It made him freeze, that lingering ache in his chest and belly rising until his insides felt singed, as if Zuko could set him on fire from within. The floor was hard beneath his knees, the body between his legs hot with firebending, still with...fear? No, Zuko wasn't afraid of him, somehow Sokka knew that, he knew it, and the rage inside him burbled like running water.
"Sokka," Zuko's voice was softer yet and he could have shouted at any time, the others weren't so far away and they could run in here, see them together with Zuko's blood running warm over Sokka's knuckles...his dad could see them like this. "Sokka, I know you. I know you. You do not want to do this."
And in that split second, he faltered, the knife slipping down and suddenly strong fingers were around his wrist, the thumb pushing viciously into vulnerable tendons until Sokka cried out and the knife slipped from his nerveless fingers.
Son of a bitch, he didn't have time to say, skittering backwards in an awkward little crab crawl and he watched with angry, wet eyes as Zuko picked up the knife, waiting to feel the bite of it against his own skin. Dangerous prey, he'd known how dangerous, didn’t even need a knife to kill.
It didn't happen. Zuko only moved to sit across from him, holding the knife in a limp grip as he took a deep, shaky breath, resting his head in his other hand. He was trembling, Sokka realized, the knife quivering loosely in his hand and whether it was adrenaline or relief, Sokka couldn't say.
"Look...it's not what you think. We're just-" Zuko shrugged a little, cheeks faintly pink. He turned a little to look at the sun, the last fingernail edge of it creeping below the horizon and his voice was soft, almost distant as he whispered, "You have no idea what this has been like for me. I just...needed someone."
"Then need someone else," Almost his voice was plaintive, pleading, but for the sharp edge to it.
"Who do you want me to need, Sokka?" Softly mocking, that faint sardonic sneer and this Zuko he knew, this was the first Zuko he'd known, the Fire Nation prince who'd threatened women and children for his own gain.
Sokka crawled forward, pushing into Zuko's space to glare at him, ignoring the knife that jerked in Zuko's tightening grip. "Anyone else. Just stay away from my dad! He doesn't need you!"
"What gives you the right to decide what he needs? He's your father, you aren't his." Zuko said, leaning away from Sokka looming in front of him. He started to climb to his feet, tossing the knife aside. It fell with a clatter, Sokka glaring at it through too-hot eyes as if it had betrayed him.
"I could tell Katara," Sokka said, so softly, barely aware that he was going to say it before it slipped free. Zuko went still, half-standing, and he sank back down to his knees.
"That would work," Zuko agreed, coolly. His eyes were bright even in the growing dimness as though his firebending gave him some inner light. Or perhaps it was his anger, Sokka could see the embers of it, quiet fury that was barely tamped away. "She'd hate me and probably your father, too. I imagine she'd get Aang to throw me out of the group, maybe convince him he had enough of a start at firebending to get along and he'd agree and not listen to a word that anyone else said. And they'd be wrong. You know it. Would you risk the fate of the whole world for your revenge, Sokka?"
Words were choking him, none of them right.
"Do you want me to try to get Haru to bed down with me? Teo? Chit Sang?" his voice was brutal as a lash. "There is no one else, Sokka. Just let it be."
It wasn't a conscious choice to do it, to lunge in and press his mouth against Zuko's. He wasn't sure even what he wanted but he knew that he just wanted those words to stop, for Zuko to just shut up
And for one blissful second it worked, the mouth beneath his went briefly still, parting hesitantly for Sokka's probing tongue. Zuko tasted like tea and ashes, his mouth wet and too-hot for the briefest of moments before he yanked himself free, one hand rising to press against his lips as he stared at Sokka.
"Need me, then," Sokka said hoarsely, already reaching out to him. Anything to set his father free from this.
But Zuko wasn't cooperating, shuffling backwards away from him in the most graceless move he'd even seen the firebender make. "No," he said, shaking his head, his hands held out to keep Sokka away. "I'm not doing this. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life; I am not making this one. "
He could taste his own anger, thick and bitter at the back of his throat. "You said you needed someone, it doesn't have to be my dad!"
"That is no business of yours, Sokka!" Zuko said in that maddeningly steady voice. "Your father is a grown man, he can make his own choices."
"He's not choosing you!"
But Zuko only shook his head, turning away and in another moment he'd be walking back to the fire, back to the others, back to Hakoda and this moment would be lost.
"Do you really like to have him fucking you that much?" Sokka said, and the scorn was so easy, the mocking laughter that came with it was high and too-sweet between them. Zuko went very still, his shoulders suddenly tense. "What's the matter, you don't have the nerve to fuck anyone yourself? Prince of the Fire Nation, whatever. You looked like you were pretty eager to get on your knees for the Water Tribe."
Zuko swung back towards him, his eyes blazing in his pale face, hands clenched so tightly that Sokka could almost feel the banked heat in them, the flames that ached to reach out.
"Shut up," Zuko whispered, almost inaudible.
"Oh, yes, do me, Water Tribe," Sokka mocked in a high pitched voice. He sprawled back on his elbows and spread his legs, writhing against an imaginary lover. "Fuck me, Hakoda, do me hard!"
Found himself slammed hard against the ground, blood on his tongue from his bitten lip, and Zuko was over him, eyes blazing.
"Shut up."
But that was what he wanted, Zuko's body against him and he grabbed his shoulders, hooked his ankles behind Zuko's knees, holding him there. "Prove it isn't true, then. Fuck me."
"No," Zuko said, his eyes clenched tight but it was a lie, his body betraying him and Sokka could feel how hard he was, the unyielding pressure of his erection next to Sokka's own.
Sokka had never done this before, knew nothing but the feel of stolen kisses and faint touches but his body knew what to do, rocking his hips smoothly upward, once, again, until Zuko made a soft choking sound and pushed back, awkward movements there in the dark as they rubbed together. Clothing between them was an irritation to be borne because Sokka was afraid to let go, his hands clenched painfully tight into the rough silk of Zuko's tunic. Afraid that if he let up the tiniest bit then Zuko would pull away and whatever bargain they were making between them would be broken.
Damp breath against his neck, Zuko panting like he was going to die, tiny noises escaping him to tingle in Sokka's ear, low and base, little grunts that spoke of need and pleasure. Barely, Sokka managed to free one hand, fingers aching as they loosened and all he did was reach up and thread them through the sweaty mass of Zuko's hair. It was nothing like Suki's, wiry and heavy, and it made him want to pull, yanking Zuko's head back until he could mouth at the damp skin of his throat, taste the thin line of metallic blood from the cut there.
"Ah!" Zuko whimpered aloud, hissing at the pressure of Sokka's teeth against his skin and he thrust hard against Sokka, the rough weave of his pants chafing painfully against his hardness as their hips moved together, finding a stuttering rhythm. Sokka buried his own cries into the salt-sweet flesh of Zuko's collarbone, riding each hard thrust of Zuko against him and the sudden pressure of a knee between his thighs, pressing against him, was so abruptly perfect that Sokka had to bite his lip against a whine. He jerked hard as heat swarmed him, his vision dimming and helpless shudders wrenched through him as felt the wet heat of his own orgasm dampen his belly and his trousers.
Above him, Zuko was shaking through his own pleasure, choking back sounds as his body thrummed like he was channeling lightening. Long moments passed before he slumped against Sokka, both of them sticky with sweat and come.
Sokka pressed his lips softly against Zuko's temple, sliding his mouth down to his ear to whisper, "So you'll stay away from him?"
He felt Zuko go tense, trying to pull away and this time Sokka let him, allowed him to climb to his feet.
"And if I don’t? What are you going to do, Sokka?" Zuko asked, almost wearily as he straightened his clothes. "How are you going to stop me? Are you going to go tell him you just let me rub off against you? He'd stop things with me, I'm sure."
But that it might also ruin things between Sokka and his dad was unspoken.
It hadn't worked, dawning realization came to him. It hadn't worked, Zuko hadn't promised him anything and now he had a piece of blackmail to hold against Sokka, and he was going to go back to his father, maybe even tonight they would be naked together and Zuko would make those little noises into his father's ear, begging him for more.
Redness dropped over his eyes like a curtain and he lunged at the other boy without thinking, knocking them both to the ground with a snarl that was nearly a scream. Just wanted to kill him, lashing out wildly with fists and feet, and the red haze behind his eyes didn't fade until he heard his dad shout, a hard hand on his collar yanking him away.
"What is going on?" his father said sharply and Sokka's vision cleared enough to see that Zuko was caught in much the same way, his father's large hands holding them firmly apart. Zuko had a split lip and was probably going to have a black eye, too, the tissues already swelling until his good eye was almost as squinted as the other and Sokka knew he hadn't fared much better, various bruises and scrapes making themselves painfully known.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the others staring at them, Katara holding a bubble of water between her hands as she glared at Zuko suspiciously and almost Sokka was tempted to tell them that Zuko had attacked him, to see her react. Before he could say anything though, Zuko spoke.
"We were sparring," Zuko offered, calmly, pulling out of his dad's grasp and dusting off his clothes. "Sorry, we didn't mean to surprise you guys, we got kind of carried away." He gave them all a sheepish smile that Sokka could only gape at, such a perfect lie.
"Sokka?"
"Yeah, Zuko was just teaching me a few moves," Sokka managed to give him a bright grin of his own, wiping away the trickle of blood from his nose with the back of his hand and gave a brief thanks to whatever spirits assisted teenage boys that apparently Toph was already snoring away because certainly she wouldn't have let those lies slide. "I think they work a little too well!"
His laugh sounded too-shrill and forced to his own ears but Zuko's dry, "You just learn too fast," seemed to ease it, the others relaxing but Sokka didn't look away from Zuko, at the odd way he kept his head lowered and it took him a moment to realize that he was hiding the cuts, the bite marks, on his neck, the obvious untruths in their fabrication.
Slowly, Hakoda released his grip on Sokka, his hand moving to clasp his son's shoulder. "I think it's a little late for sparring, anyway. Why don't you both come back to the fire?"
They both murmured agreement, Sokka straightening his own clothes and in another moment they were alone again, silence hanging between them as they started after the others. And perhaps he heard something, a scrape of a boot against gravel or perhaps Sokka just knew the ways of parents far too well because he knew somehow that his father would look back, that he was suspicious enough and concerned enough about leaving them alone. Just out of the corner of his eye, saw a flash of movement and he made a decision.
Grabbed the front of Zuko's tunic and pulled him in, covered his shocked mouth with his own. He struggled briefly, surprised, but Sokka softened it, made it as tender as he could and felt Zuko melt into it, lips parting. This time he tasted like blood, hot and metallic, like holding a coin on his tongue, and the soft moan that escaped from his throat denied nothing.
Slowly, Sokka pulled away and Zuko stared at him, lips reddened and battered eyes wide. Sokka leaned in a little to whisper, so soft, "There. Try to explain that to him, if you can."
Zuko jerked, looked wildly behind them to see Hakoda walking away.
"You-" Zuko started, then his lips pressed together in a thin line. "I suppose I could ask why you hate me so much, but I don't think I want to hear the answer."
"Stay away from him," Sokka grated out, ignoring the rest because it didn't matter, it didn't matter so long as Zuko left his dad alone.
Zuko only looked at him a moment longer, his eyes flickering closed before he turned away, walking slowly back to the fire.
Sokka lingered a few moments longer, retrieving his knife. The edge was stained crimson that flaked away at Sokka's touch. He cleaned it carefully, sliding it back into its sheath and when he left the darkness, stepped back into the firelight, he could see his father sitting on the opposite side of the fire as Zuko, both of them staring silently at the dancing flames.
Good, that was perfect, Sokka told himself fiercely, swallowing away that almost nausea, not thinking about what he'd done or the itchy stickiness that was still low in his own trousers. He was a hunter and this was just the prey he'd been seeking.
His smile felt forced as he accepted a cup of tea from Katara, sipping its warmth slowly and willing it ease the coldness in his guts. Everything was going to be fine now.
He was sure of it.
-finis-
Next Chapter
By Keelywolfe
Zuko/Sokka, Implied Zuko/Hakoda,
NC-17
Part Three, the Insomniacs series
Fathers and Sons
Sins of Your Fathers
Warnings: I'm going to give this series a general 'dark' warning, so if you're used to my funny, fluffy stories...this isn't it. Thanks.
~~*~~
Master Piandao had been a good teacher to Sokka, giving him not only training but also much needed confidence in the skills he'd already had. His teachings had been bold, facing his opponents head on and that suited Sokka just fine.
But that didn't mean he didn't know how to hunt. His stealth training had been in done in the arctic cold, a spear gripped in a gloved hand as he moved silently across ice and snow after his prey. It was easy enough to modify a learned skill, studying his prey for a few days as he relearned how to step across loose gravel silently, to shift with the wind to keep himself hidden, to hunt. Some things were never truly forgotten.
Crouching behind a large section of collapsed wall, Sokka watched, waiting for his time. His grip on his knife was sweaty, too slippery and he paused long enough to wipe his hand on his trouser leg. No room for mistakes here, he knew, there was one chance and one chance only.
There. He was moving into this section of the Air Temple alone as he always did just before the sunset, to go through certain forms, moving and shifting in ways that Aang had yet to master. He turned towards the lowering crest of the sun exactly as Sokka had known he would, exactly as he had done the past days that Sokka had watched him, only this day Sokka tightened his grip on his knife and moved on silent feet towards him.
Almost, Zuko noticed him in time, started to turn towards him but by that moment Sokka's body was already carrying them to the hard stone floor, Zuko's breath knocked loose by their combined weight. Already he was starting to struggle and Sokka had known since he was a child that some prey was dangerous, there could be no hesitation, no waiting and the second Zuko felt cold steel against his throat he went very still, his hands pressed flat against the floor from his attempt to rise.
"Don't move," Sokka hissed close to his ear, his cheek almost pressed against Zuko's hair. He kept the knife tight against Zuko's skin, close enough that he could feel the other boy's heat, his pulse rabbiting against Sokka's knuckles.
"Sokka?" Zuko said, equally soft and so bewildered, sweet apple innocence that was such a lie that Sokka bit the inside of his lip, tasted faint copper. Almost, Zuko tried to turn his head, went still again as the knife bit lightly into his skin.
"I'm only asking you once," Sokka said slowly, clearly. No mistakes here, no misunderstandings. "What the fuck are you doing to my father?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Zuko, astonishment in his voice but something else, something like hurt, and Sokka ignored it, so tired of Fire Nation lies. He'd trusted him, believed in him, defended him, and at the first opportunity, he'd done this.
Soft, bitter laughter. "Oh, please, play stupid. Give me an excuse." He felt liquid warmth slide over his fingers, and Zuko's breath hissed softly. "I saw you," Sokka breathed. "I know."
He felt the realization in the stiffening body beneath him, his knees tight on either side of Zuko's waist but he didn't fool himself into believing it was anything but the knife keeping him still. Body warmed metal held tight against that throbbing, vital artery, viciously sharp. Sokka had done that himself, scraping it against his whetstone until the edge was fine, nicking his testing thumb with barely any pressure at all.
"If you saw us, you already know what's going on," Zuko said. His voice was low, his breath stirring the dust beneath them.
"Bullshit! I want to know what you did to make him fuck you."
Their bodies were close enough that Sokka could feel Zuko take a sharp breath, the ripple of it moving through them both. "Are you crazy? I'm a firebender, not a witch! I didn't do anything to him."
"Liar!" Sokka breathed, close enough to feel the brush of Zuko's skin against his lips. "My dad would never do...do that unless you were making him."
The only sound for long moments was their breathing, Sokka's too-fast blurts measured against the slower beat of Zuko's, bodies trembling together in the honey-gold light of the setting sun. Bitter sweat was trailing down Sokka's forehead, stinging his eyes and he ducked his head a little without thinking, rubbing it away on the shoulder of Zuko's tunic. The other boy stayed perfectly still, unmoving as he was caught between the blade and Sokka's body.
Abruptly, Zuko tipped his head back and pressed against the knife and another faint surge of wet warmth flowed over Sokka's fingers, slickening them. "If you really think I would hurt him, or you, like that then go ahead and do it."
It made him freeze, that lingering ache in his chest and belly rising until his insides felt singed, as if Zuko could set him on fire from within. The floor was hard beneath his knees, the body between his legs hot with firebending, still with...fear? No, Zuko wasn't afraid of him, somehow Sokka knew that, he knew it, and the rage inside him burbled like running water.
"Sokka," Zuko's voice was softer yet and he could have shouted at any time, the others weren't so far away and they could run in here, see them together with Zuko's blood running warm over Sokka's knuckles...his dad could see them like this. "Sokka, I know you. I know you. You do not want to do this."
And in that split second, he faltered, the knife slipping down and suddenly strong fingers were around his wrist, the thumb pushing viciously into vulnerable tendons until Sokka cried out and the knife slipped from his nerveless fingers.
Son of a bitch, he didn't have time to say, skittering backwards in an awkward little crab crawl and he watched with angry, wet eyes as Zuko picked up the knife, waiting to feel the bite of it against his own skin. Dangerous prey, he'd known how dangerous, didn’t even need a knife to kill.
It didn't happen. Zuko only moved to sit across from him, holding the knife in a limp grip as he took a deep, shaky breath, resting his head in his other hand. He was trembling, Sokka realized, the knife quivering loosely in his hand and whether it was adrenaline or relief, Sokka couldn't say.
"Look...it's not what you think. We're just-" Zuko shrugged a little, cheeks faintly pink. He turned a little to look at the sun, the last fingernail edge of it creeping below the horizon and his voice was soft, almost distant as he whispered, "You have no idea what this has been like for me. I just...needed someone."
"Then need someone else," Almost his voice was plaintive, pleading, but for the sharp edge to it.
"Who do you want me to need, Sokka?" Softly mocking, that faint sardonic sneer and this Zuko he knew, this was the first Zuko he'd known, the Fire Nation prince who'd threatened women and children for his own gain.
Sokka crawled forward, pushing into Zuko's space to glare at him, ignoring the knife that jerked in Zuko's tightening grip. "Anyone else. Just stay away from my dad! He doesn't need you!"
"What gives you the right to decide what he needs? He's your father, you aren't his." Zuko said, leaning away from Sokka looming in front of him. He started to climb to his feet, tossing the knife aside. It fell with a clatter, Sokka glaring at it through too-hot eyes as if it had betrayed him.
"I could tell Katara," Sokka said, so softly, barely aware that he was going to say it before it slipped free. Zuko went still, half-standing, and he sank back down to his knees.
"That would work," Zuko agreed, coolly. His eyes were bright even in the growing dimness as though his firebending gave him some inner light. Or perhaps it was his anger, Sokka could see the embers of it, quiet fury that was barely tamped away. "She'd hate me and probably your father, too. I imagine she'd get Aang to throw me out of the group, maybe convince him he had enough of a start at firebending to get along and he'd agree and not listen to a word that anyone else said. And they'd be wrong. You know it. Would you risk the fate of the whole world for your revenge, Sokka?"
Words were choking him, none of them right.
"Do you want me to try to get Haru to bed down with me? Teo? Chit Sang?" his voice was brutal as a lash. "There is no one else, Sokka. Just let it be."
It wasn't a conscious choice to do it, to lunge in and press his mouth against Zuko's. He wasn't sure even what he wanted but he knew that he just wanted those words to stop, for Zuko to just shut up
And for one blissful second it worked, the mouth beneath his went briefly still, parting hesitantly for Sokka's probing tongue. Zuko tasted like tea and ashes, his mouth wet and too-hot for the briefest of moments before he yanked himself free, one hand rising to press against his lips as he stared at Sokka.
"Need me, then," Sokka said hoarsely, already reaching out to him. Anything to set his father free from this.
But Zuko wasn't cooperating, shuffling backwards away from him in the most graceless move he'd even seen the firebender make. "No," he said, shaking his head, his hands held out to keep Sokka away. "I'm not doing this. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life; I am not making this one. "
He could taste his own anger, thick and bitter at the back of his throat. "You said you needed someone, it doesn't have to be my dad!"
"That is no business of yours, Sokka!" Zuko said in that maddeningly steady voice. "Your father is a grown man, he can make his own choices."
"He's not choosing you!"
But Zuko only shook his head, turning away and in another moment he'd be walking back to the fire, back to the others, back to Hakoda and this moment would be lost.
"Do you really like to have him fucking you that much?" Sokka said, and the scorn was so easy, the mocking laughter that came with it was high and too-sweet between them. Zuko went very still, his shoulders suddenly tense. "What's the matter, you don't have the nerve to fuck anyone yourself? Prince of the Fire Nation, whatever. You looked like you were pretty eager to get on your knees for the Water Tribe."
Zuko swung back towards him, his eyes blazing in his pale face, hands clenched so tightly that Sokka could almost feel the banked heat in them, the flames that ached to reach out.
"Shut up," Zuko whispered, almost inaudible.
"Oh, yes, do me, Water Tribe," Sokka mocked in a high pitched voice. He sprawled back on his elbows and spread his legs, writhing against an imaginary lover. "Fuck me, Hakoda, do me hard!"
Found himself slammed hard against the ground, blood on his tongue from his bitten lip, and Zuko was over him, eyes blazing.
"Shut up."
But that was what he wanted, Zuko's body against him and he grabbed his shoulders, hooked his ankles behind Zuko's knees, holding him there. "Prove it isn't true, then. Fuck me."
"No," Zuko said, his eyes clenched tight but it was a lie, his body betraying him and Sokka could feel how hard he was, the unyielding pressure of his erection next to Sokka's own.
Sokka had never done this before, knew nothing but the feel of stolen kisses and faint touches but his body knew what to do, rocking his hips smoothly upward, once, again, until Zuko made a soft choking sound and pushed back, awkward movements there in the dark as they rubbed together. Clothing between them was an irritation to be borne because Sokka was afraid to let go, his hands clenched painfully tight into the rough silk of Zuko's tunic. Afraid that if he let up the tiniest bit then Zuko would pull away and whatever bargain they were making between them would be broken.
Damp breath against his neck, Zuko panting like he was going to die, tiny noises escaping him to tingle in Sokka's ear, low and base, little grunts that spoke of need and pleasure. Barely, Sokka managed to free one hand, fingers aching as they loosened and all he did was reach up and thread them through the sweaty mass of Zuko's hair. It was nothing like Suki's, wiry and heavy, and it made him want to pull, yanking Zuko's head back until he could mouth at the damp skin of his throat, taste the thin line of metallic blood from the cut there.
"Ah!" Zuko whimpered aloud, hissing at the pressure of Sokka's teeth against his skin and he thrust hard against Sokka, the rough weave of his pants chafing painfully against his hardness as their hips moved together, finding a stuttering rhythm. Sokka buried his own cries into the salt-sweet flesh of Zuko's collarbone, riding each hard thrust of Zuko against him and the sudden pressure of a knee between his thighs, pressing against him, was so abruptly perfect that Sokka had to bite his lip against a whine. He jerked hard as heat swarmed him, his vision dimming and helpless shudders wrenched through him as felt the wet heat of his own orgasm dampen his belly and his trousers.
Above him, Zuko was shaking through his own pleasure, choking back sounds as his body thrummed like he was channeling lightening. Long moments passed before he slumped against Sokka, both of them sticky with sweat and come.
Sokka pressed his lips softly against Zuko's temple, sliding his mouth down to his ear to whisper, "So you'll stay away from him?"
He felt Zuko go tense, trying to pull away and this time Sokka let him, allowed him to climb to his feet.
"And if I don’t? What are you going to do, Sokka?" Zuko asked, almost wearily as he straightened his clothes. "How are you going to stop me? Are you going to go tell him you just let me rub off against you? He'd stop things with me, I'm sure."
But that it might also ruin things between Sokka and his dad was unspoken.
It hadn't worked, dawning realization came to him. It hadn't worked, Zuko hadn't promised him anything and now he had a piece of blackmail to hold against Sokka, and he was going to go back to his father, maybe even tonight they would be naked together and Zuko would make those little noises into his father's ear, begging him for more.
Redness dropped over his eyes like a curtain and he lunged at the other boy without thinking, knocking them both to the ground with a snarl that was nearly a scream. Just wanted to kill him, lashing out wildly with fists and feet, and the red haze behind his eyes didn't fade until he heard his dad shout, a hard hand on his collar yanking him away.
"What is going on?" his father said sharply and Sokka's vision cleared enough to see that Zuko was caught in much the same way, his father's large hands holding them firmly apart. Zuko had a split lip and was probably going to have a black eye, too, the tissues already swelling until his good eye was almost as squinted as the other and Sokka knew he hadn't fared much better, various bruises and scrapes making themselves painfully known.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the others staring at them, Katara holding a bubble of water between her hands as she glared at Zuko suspiciously and almost Sokka was tempted to tell them that Zuko had attacked him, to see her react. Before he could say anything though, Zuko spoke.
"We were sparring," Zuko offered, calmly, pulling out of his dad's grasp and dusting off his clothes. "Sorry, we didn't mean to surprise you guys, we got kind of carried away." He gave them all a sheepish smile that Sokka could only gape at, such a perfect lie.
"Sokka?"
"Yeah, Zuko was just teaching me a few moves," Sokka managed to give him a bright grin of his own, wiping away the trickle of blood from his nose with the back of his hand and gave a brief thanks to whatever spirits assisted teenage boys that apparently Toph was already snoring away because certainly she wouldn't have let those lies slide. "I think they work a little too well!"
His laugh sounded too-shrill and forced to his own ears but Zuko's dry, "You just learn too fast," seemed to ease it, the others relaxing but Sokka didn't look away from Zuko, at the odd way he kept his head lowered and it took him a moment to realize that he was hiding the cuts, the bite marks, on his neck, the obvious untruths in their fabrication.
Slowly, Hakoda released his grip on Sokka, his hand moving to clasp his son's shoulder. "I think it's a little late for sparring, anyway. Why don't you both come back to the fire?"
They both murmured agreement, Sokka straightening his own clothes and in another moment they were alone again, silence hanging between them as they started after the others. And perhaps he heard something, a scrape of a boot against gravel or perhaps Sokka just knew the ways of parents far too well because he knew somehow that his father would look back, that he was suspicious enough and concerned enough about leaving them alone. Just out of the corner of his eye, saw a flash of movement and he made a decision.
Grabbed the front of Zuko's tunic and pulled him in, covered his shocked mouth with his own. He struggled briefly, surprised, but Sokka softened it, made it as tender as he could and felt Zuko melt into it, lips parting. This time he tasted like blood, hot and metallic, like holding a coin on his tongue, and the soft moan that escaped from his throat denied nothing.
Slowly, Sokka pulled away and Zuko stared at him, lips reddened and battered eyes wide. Sokka leaned in a little to whisper, so soft, "There. Try to explain that to him, if you can."
Zuko jerked, looked wildly behind them to see Hakoda walking away.
"You-" Zuko started, then his lips pressed together in a thin line. "I suppose I could ask why you hate me so much, but I don't think I want to hear the answer."
"Stay away from him," Sokka grated out, ignoring the rest because it didn't matter, it didn't matter so long as Zuko left his dad alone.
Zuko only looked at him a moment longer, his eyes flickering closed before he turned away, walking slowly back to the fire.
Sokka lingered a few moments longer, retrieving his knife. The edge was stained crimson that flaked away at Sokka's touch. He cleaned it carefully, sliding it back into its sheath and when he left the darkness, stepped back into the firelight, he could see his father sitting on the opposite side of the fire as Zuko, both of them staring silently at the dancing flames.
Good, that was perfect, Sokka told himself fiercely, swallowing away that almost nausea, not thinking about what he'd done or the itchy stickiness that was still low in his own trousers. He was a hunter and this was just the prey he'd been seeking.
His smile felt forced as he accepted a cup of tea from Katara, sipping its warmth slowly and willing it ease the coldness in his guts. Everything was going to be fine now.
He was sure of it.
-finis-
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