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It's Not the Waking, It's the Rising

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The stream finally ends when they’ve gotten through no less than sixteen porn videos, Sokka waving goodbye with a cheerful, “go be sinners now!” to the camera. Zuko wastes no time in pouncing on the remote to finally stop the moaning that was going on.

Mai sighs, unimpressed. “Well, that was something,” she says dryly as Ty Lee, like a cat, rubs her side against Mai’s. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take a bath in holy water now.”

“Holy water burns vampires, you know,” Sokka says as Mai gets up, Ty Lee trailing after her. “And demons!”

Mai throws the bird over her shoulder. Ty Lee giggles. “Night, everyone!” she chirps before they leave the living room for good, going up to their room in the vacation home.

Then it’s just Zuko, Sokka, and Suki, and a frozen screen of porn. Instantly Zuko feels his face start to heat up, and he busies himself with playing with his sweatshirt ties. He can’t bear to look at Sokka and Suki (not after being… well), and he’s sure they want to retire like Mai and Ty Lee. It’s hard to get worked up over porn in a room full of your best friends, but also...

It’s surprisingly easy to get worked up over porn in a room full of your best friends.

“Surprised you aren’t going with them, Suki,” Sokka teases, still over by the computer. He’s probably posting or tweeting or answering comments. Zuko can imagine them now: no, we’re not actually going to have sex, yes I would give Suki permission for a threesome, no I would not actually fuck Zuko, etc.

Suki flips her hair from her spot on the floor. She’s close enough for Zuko to touch, but he wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t, that’s — he wouldn’t. “Like I would let you know when my tryst with them is happening,” she responds coyly, and Sokka laughs.

“Well, if you’re interested in our own tryst, then let me finish up answering these comments and we can go to bed,” Sokka says. His fingers clack clack clack against the keys.

Zuko’s mouth goes suspiciously dry at the mental image that provokes, so he takes a long pull of his vodka to stifle it. It sloshes in the half-empty bottle accusingly.

Suki cranes her head like she’d forgotten he was there. “Oh, and you’re coming too,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Sokka, we wouldn’t leave Zuko out after all that teasing, would we?”

Sokka scoffs. “Of course not,” he replies, fingers still flying over keys. “That would just be bad etiquette.”

Zuko, for his part, doesn’t see the funny part of the joke, but of the two of them Azula has always been more of a people person.  So he says, “haha,” and takes another drink.

Suki’s hand settles on his knee, warm and sure. Zuko almost chokes on his sip.

“Zuko,” she says softly, bathed in the blue light of the tv screen. “If you’re not comfortable, we get it. But we’re not joking, you know. Sokka and I have discussed this before, and we’ve never been sure if you’re into it. But we agreed that we’d talk about it tonight if everything went well and you seemed game.”

Zuko... well. He’s not sure whether he should be flattered that they’ve apparently talked about having a threesome with him before, or offended that it depends on his ability to be desirable.

That said — that said, are Sokka and Suki attractive? Absolutely. Would he have sex with them? Of course

The problem isn’t them. 

Zuko has nothing to offer them: not skill, not attractiveness. Mai had said it herself: he’d been inexperienced, and he still was. His time with Jet... his time with Jet didn’t count. Jet had always been so sure of himself, so quick to get things started, and then so quick to end them. He’d taken Zuko apart so well and had never bothered to teach Zuko how to do it himself. Zuko knows nothing more from their encounters than he does from his and Mai’s. 

That’s not even to mention Zuko's face. The scar — no matter what they say, he knows it’s ugly. He knows that it’s hard to look at and even harder to ignore, knows that it twists his face into a scowl even when he’s not scowling. And he doesn’t have any shining personality traits to help people see past it, either. 

He’d been handsome, once. But that was a long time ago. He’d made the mistake of thinking Jet thought he was handsome. But he knows better than that, now.

So. He just doesn’t get why they want him. 

The word escapes his lips before he has time to think about it. “Why?”

Sokka stops typing to glance at him. “Why what?”

“Why me? I don’t... I don’t get it.” They can do so much better than him. Why would they even waste their time?

“Oh, Zuko,” Suki says, moving to sit beside him. Her voice isn’t full of the pity he anticipates. It's just sad. “Because we like you. It’s not just sexual.”

Suki’s never lied to him; he doubts she’d start here and now. Her words are supposed to soothe the ache inside him.

Instead, they make him angry.

“Don’t pretend,” he snaps. “Look, I get it, you want to spice up your sex life, okay? But don’t treat me like I’m an idiot. I know you — I know it can’t be that. I’d rather you were just up front and honest about it instead of trying to sugarcoat it. I’m not a fucking child.”

Sokka closes his laptop to turn his attention to where they're sitting on the couch. He’s as calm as ever. Whether he’s watching a game, playing one, or watching porn with his friends, nothing seems to shake him. It just manages to make Zuko angrier. 

“We’re not lying to you, Zuko. And this isn’t about ‘spicing up our sex life’; it’s already pretty spicy — ”

Suki elbows Sokka in the gut. 

“It’s true! Look, we could spice up the bedroom with anyone, I mean, come on.” Sokka gestures towards Suki. “Look at her. It wouldn’t be that hard to find someone.” 

Zuko stares at where they sit next to each other. He hates it. He hates how beautiful they are, how amazing they look together — and he hates his demon brain for undressing them and wondering what they look like underneath.

“No, you couldn’t,” he argues. “You’d do it with a friend. Doing it with anyone — you have tons of fans, it could be a consent issue or a privacy issue, or — ”

“Oh come off it,” Sokka interrupts, scowling. “Since when have I cared about privacy, Zuko? Since when has Suki? A few days ago we told the whole internet she pegs me. It’s not about privacy, obviously.  We want to bang you, you dickhead.”


Sokka throws his hands up. “I’m sorry but it’s true! I love his dumb face and his awkwardness and that dumb nose scrunch he does when he’s embarrassed, okay?!”

“We don’t just want to bang you,” Suki says quickly, like she’s reassuring him or something. Not that she needs to; Zuko is still stuck on I love his dumb face. “We want to kiss you and hold your hand and learn everything you love and — and.” She struggles here, trailing off.

Zuko doesn’t blame her. He’d run out of things to lie about just as quick.

Suki seems to follow his train of thought, because her face falls. “I want to show you, Zuko,” she murmurs, hands hovering like she wants to cradle his face. “I want to show you how beautiful you are.”

Her hands ghost over his skin, and a shudder runs through him. She hasn’t even actually made contact yet, but he feels it - feels her warmth seeping into him.

“Can I touch you?” She whispers, and Zuko, numb, nods.

It’s still a second before her palms touch his cheeks. When they do, his skin flinches, but he can’t tell if it’s towards her or away from her. She doesn’t pull away: she presses into it and gently strokes her thumbs over the ridges of his cheekbones. Her right one skirts the edge of his scar, barely there. 

Zuko pauses. He leans into it just slightly, enough to let her know he doesn’t want her to stop. Zuko’s never really let people touch his scar; not after it healed and became the eyesore it is. Jet had, but he’d never asked. Mai did, but it was only once when she saw him the first time after it had happened, and then she never did again.

This feels different. It feels like Suki isn't just studying him, but drinking him in, memorizing him. He wants to be swept up into it, but he catches Sokka’s eye over her shoulder, and cringes. This is Sokka’s girlfriend. 

And though Zuko doesn’t see the jealousy he’d been expecting, Zuko's not — he’s not meant for them. They’re meant for each other. They’re so beautiful together. They’re seamless, one unit. They’re meant for each other. He’s not going to be the fifth wheel to their Maserati. 

He pulls away.

It takes a lot of willpower to keep his expression frozen, to ignore the sudden heartache that flares. Suki, for her part, looks like she feels the same way.

“I’m not meant for you,” he tells her quietly, because he owes her — owes them both — an explanation. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that... it’s just that you don’t deserve to deal with this.”

“Deal with what?” Sokka challenges.

“I’ve got a lot of trauma, if you haven’t noticed,” Zuko says. “It’s not an easy job to be in my life, especially in a romantic way. It’s sort of lousy work.” He doesn’t fault Mai for not being able to do it. He wants to hate Jet for it, because Jet swore he’d never leave, but part of Zuko had always known he’d been playing with something hotter and more deadly than fire where Jet was concerned.

“Not to us. Not when it’s you,” Sokka says. “Everything comes easy when we’re with you. It’s not lousy work. Being around you.”

“Shakespeare,” Zuko accuses, but there’s no heat.

“You started it,” Sokka says, smirking a little. “But seriously, Zuko. It’s not — you seem to think that you’re a burden. You’re not. Not to anyone that’s worth your time.”

Zuko wants to believe him. He really, desperately does. But... but.

Suki reaches out hesitantly for his hand. When he doesn’t snatch it away, she holds it between both of hers and smiles up at him. Her skin is soft, and her smile so pretty, and it’s hard to want to say no. Because he doesn’t want to say no. But he doesn’t want to force them into anything. He doesn’t want them to feel obligated. 

“I want to show you how much you mean to us,” Suki says. “And if you don’t want to do it, that’s okay. And if we start and at any point you don’t want to do it anymore, we’ll stop, and that’s okay too. But I think actions speak louder than words.”

Zuko is only a man. A man sitting in front of two of the most beautiful people in the world who want to touch him, and love him. And he can only pretend he doesn’t want them back for so long. 

Suki seems to sense his fall in hesitation. “Can I kiss you?”

Zuko looks at her and glances at Sokka, but it doesn’t feel like he’s asking permission to kiss Suki. Sokka doesn't even nod. He's just watching, pupils blown wide.

So... Zuko nods.

Suki doesn’t wait like he expects; she doesn’t even go slow. She lurches forward and presses her lips to his, grasping his shoulders to inch closer. Zuko can’t breathe, but it’s not because it’s bad: he’s lightheaded, he’s flying, she’s kissing him and her lips are soft and her skin is soft and he’s dizzy with it, dizzy with how in love with these people he is.

And then Suki’s pulling away. It’s like someone has stolen his shirt; he feels exposed, abandoned.

Until Sokka takes his hand and gives him that same soft half-upturned grin he always does when he’s trying to make Zuko more comfortable. It’s the one Sokka used when he managed to convince Zuko to go on the boardwalk's roller-coaster, the one that makes Zuko's nerves settle and his heartbeat slow. It works.

Sokka leans over Suki, grasping her hand, and cups Zuko’s unscarred cheek. Zuko closes his eyes.

And then Sokka is kissing him. 

And if Suki feels like a long awaited rainfall on a summer evening, Sokka is a tsunami in the dead of winter. He kisses with the same passion and fervor as he does everything in his life. Somehow, Zuko hadn’t expected anything less.

Suki strokes his bicep, almost as if to just remind him that she’s there and yes, she does like him, and it's all so much and not enough and he needs more.

Sokka pulls away, and if he was exposed without Suki, he's deprived without Sokka. Without Suki, he’s drowning; without Sokka, he's starved. 

“Do you see now?” Sokka says, stroking his cheek. It’s his scarred cheek, but Sokka is careful to skirt it like Suki had, his touch feather-light. 

Zuko’s mouth feels like a desert, and it’s hard for him to form words. He nods.

“No, Sokka, I don’t think he does,” Suki says. "I think he needs more evidence.” Suki’s voice comes out silky smooth, and her breath tickles his ear. Zuko shivers. 

“Evidence?” He manages, and Sokka grins salaciously. 

“Evidence,” he agrees, and maneuvers to sit behind Zuko. Suki stays exactly where she is, smiling coyly at him. He cranes his neck to find Sokka again, but Suki catches his cheek before he can actually get a glimpse.

“Eyes on me,” she says, and then kisses him.

It’s not like the last one: this kiss is slower, sweeter. Suki presses all the tenderness she has into it. It tingles in Zuko's mouth, on his tongue, sugar sweet and lovely. He sighs into it, lets himself melt into her, into the way her lips press against his, the way her arms wrap around him. It's safe, and Zuko is drunker on it than he could ever get on mere vodka.

Something soft presses against the back of his neck, and his mouth opens in a silent gasp. Suki takes the opportunity to press her tongue into his mouth, seeking, and Zuko is caught between two pairs of lips. He makes a soft noise, unbidden, and grabs at Suki's shitt. She smiles and sweeps her tongue over the roof of his mouth.

Sokka, for his part, starts to explore. His lips, previously at the base of Zuko’s neck, start to wander down to his first vertebrae, over the curve of his shoulders. Sokka pushes aside Zuko’s shirt to gain access to more skin, tanned and freckled from the sun. His lips are feathery, barely there, but the little shiver that hits Zuko every time Sokka finds a new spot is almost crippling.

It remains this way for a while, Zuko and Suki trading kisses and barely coming up for air and Sokka peppering the skin he can reach with kisses of his own. Sokka makes his way to the underside of Zuko’s jaw, Zuko’s head subconsciously tilted to give Sokka more access, when he finds a spot that makes Zuko moan.

Suki nips at his bottom lip triumphantly and doesn’t give Zuko the opportunity to turn red. Instead, she starts kissing him again with abandon, hands hiking up his shirt and exploring, and Sokka zeroes in on that spot like his life depends on it, making Zuko whimper again and again as Suki maps out his skin. Her fingers brush against old scars earned from not learning quickly enough, the starburst one on his stomach from being shocked during his fencing training. It’s sensitive to this day, and as she follows its path with her fingers Zuko feels goosebumps rise.

“I love that you’re so sensitive,” Suki says breathlessly when they part for air. She’s sucking all of his away; his lungs feel shriveled and nonexistent. “I love that you’re so reactive.”

Zuko opens his mouth to reply. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say, and that burden is robbed from him as Sokka readjusts and sucks against his jaw just right; the air he was going to use to speak instead hitches on a moan. Suki reclaims his mouth before he can recover from it, and it’s back to the push and pull they go.

And Zuko can’t remember the last time he’s felt like this. So good, so wanted. When was the last time he’d even had sex? Was it Mai?

He can’t remember, he had been on and off with both Mai and Jet for a few years. But it feels different now than it felt with either of them. It's more real.

Sokka’s hands wander, but not in the same way Suki’s do. Sokka’s have a purpose: they squirm beneath his shirt, briefly skirt the broad expanse of his back and ribs, and then find his nipples. Zuko cringes away for a second; Jet had never and Mai had never and Zuko himself has never —

But the curl of his back pushes him back into Sokka, whose chest rumbles on a laugh or a moan, and then Sokka's pinching, and fuck, that feels good.

Suki breaks apart their kiss to press her cheek to Zuko’s. “Do that again, Sokka,” she says, commanding even when she can barely speak. “He shuddered, it was so good, do it again — ”

Sokka does and Zuko shudders, and Suki giggles, and Zuko wants to be offended but he’s too busy grasping at Sokka’s arm and trying to figure out if he wants to push Sokka away or pull him closer.

The answer is pull him closer, because Zuko has been kissing Suki this whole time and not Sokka, so Zuko twists around and changes position and pushes his lips against Sokka’s. It’s unexpected but not unwelcome; Sokka’s lips grin against Zuko’s before he’s actively and aggressively kissing back.

Suki rakes her nails down Zuko’s back, not enough to draw blood but enough to make Zuko shiver, and Sokka growls, lurching closer so they’re flush. Sokka’s hardness presses into Zuko’s thigh like this, and outside the kissing and the head rush Zuko has a new wave of dizziness. I did that. I did that. Sokka is fucking gorgeous, and I did that.

Then Sokka’s tongue is in his mouth and it’s so good that Zuko's eyes roll back. "Holy hell,” Suki is gasping, fingers grasping at the front of Zuko’s shirt. “Holy hell, you guys are so hot. You look so good. You’re so beautiful.”

The compliment should throw him off, should make him self conscious, but all it does is send heat rushing through him. Suki thinks they’re beautiful. Suki is — Suki is turned on right now.

And that’s when Zuko finally realizes how hard he is. His cock is straining against his sweatpants, tented for everyone to see, for Suki to see right now, and Sokka’s cock is pressing up against his thigh and leaving literally nothing to the imagination. Suki is probably soaking wet

“Holy shit,” Zuko chokes, just enough to make Sokka pull away and huff a laugh and for Suki to giggle and press her face to the back of Zuko’s flushed neck.

“We should go to the bedroom,” Sokka suggests, and Zuko has never scrambled to his feet faster. It’s a relief that Sokka and Suki’s room is right off the living room; it makes for less travel time and less noise, considering this is the downstairs living room in their three story beach house and there’s only one bedroom on this whole floor.

The door to said bedroom is opened and closed just as quickly, and Suki is leading them backwards, and Zuko feels the mattress hit the back of his knees. Suki pushes him, and Sokka climbs into bed and leans over him, flat on his back.

“Hi, blushy,” Sokka teases.

Zuko does his best to look insulted, but he knows it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Sokka tries to close the distance between them, but before he can, Zuko sits up. He's just... well, he’s not exactly prepared, and isn’t it... there’s prep work, and he... well. 

Zuko clears his throat. “What should we — how far should we go? I’m not... I wasn’t expecting...” He gestures wildly between the three of them, and Sokka and Suki both laugh.

“Maybe we should start a little slower. I mean, no anal is like what, first base?” Sokka smirks. “After that story Mai told about the notecards, I’m not so sure I’ll be able to do it without feeling like I’m corrupting you.”

Zuko scowls. “I have decided I will no longer be having sex with Sokka.”

“Aw, is that really what you want?” Suki croons, and straddles his lap. She leans forward and kisses along his jaw, and he lets out an unholy noise somewhere between a whine and a groan.

“No,” he whispers out.

“That’s what I thought,” she says, smug.

Sokka comes up behind Zuko and mimics Suki’s actions on the other side of his neck. All Zuko can do is gasp between them. The angry thoughts of you don’t deserve this and they should be with someone better are drowned out by Sokka’s voice saying not when it’s you, Suki whispering I want to show you how beautiful you are.

Suki gestures at Sokka, and they get up and switch places. Zuko hopes beyond hope that maybe, one day, he’ll be that in sync with them too.

Suki gently tugs at the hem of Zuko’s shirt, pulling it over his head. They’ve seen him shirtless before — they’ve been at a beach for weeks now — but now it's different. Back then, he hadn’t been nervous about how he looked. But now he knows that they were looking the whole time and they liked it. Heat floods through him again, pooling low in his belly.

Suki lays down, leaning against the dozen pillows at the top of the bed, and leads Zuko between her legs. At the last moment, she turns him around so that his back is leaning against her front.

He’s confused for a second — he knows he’ll have to do some work, and he doesn’t mind eating her out; he’s eaten Mai out a few times. He thought she’d enjoyed it, thought he’d done well, but tonight — well, after tonight, he’s not sure.

Zuko's going to something, advocate for himself, but then Sokka nudges his legs apart and settles between them, and all his words abandon him.

Zuko has known Sokka for a couple years — basically since they both started college. They'd still looked like kids, then, both of them gangly and awkward, shoulders unfilled. But now, they’re older, they’re more fit — now, kneeling between Zuko's knees, Sokka is the most gorgeous thing Zuko's ever seen.

“He’s pretty, isn’t he?” Suki whispers in his ear, stroking his hair from his face. All he can do is swallow, trying to work up some saliva. “You want him to touch you more?”

Zuko nods feverishly. As much as he likes looking, he wants — he needs to touch.

“No. Say it. Tell us what you want,” she demands.

He lets out a puff of air and glances at Sokka, but he’s absolutely no help, and looks way too smug for someone that’s that close to Zuko's cock. Every part of him screams against it, but Zuko closes his eyes and holds his breath and finally huffs, Sokka, please touch my dick.”

He can feel Suki’s smile against the shell of his ear. “See? That wasn’t so hard. You’re so good. So good at listening.”

Zuko can’t help himself: he whimpers. His stomach instantly coils up in shame, but Suki doesn’t look scandalized, or even upset. She looks proud.

“Aw, you like that? You’re so good, Zuko,” she croons. “So, so, so good.”

Dammit, they aren’t allowed to figure out his kinks so quickly when he hasn’t figured out any of theirs. If they find out he’s a glutton for praise, they can use that against him any time — in public, around their friends — and the thought sends him vibrating. 

And he wants to think harder to try and figure out something that they like, but then Sokka is pulling his pants down and suddenly he can’t think at all. No thoughts.  Just Sokka. It’s just Sokka and Suki. 

Sokka has mercy on him and dips a hand into his boxers, fingertips trailing along his cock.  Zuko throws his head back against Suki, looking for help, but all she does is smile at him, stroking his hair away from his face. 

And maybe it’s the anticipation of the night. Maybe it’s the way that they’d been watching porn for almost three hours before this. Or maybe it’s just that he finally, after months of yearning, is getting to touch them.

But when Sokka lowers himself and wraps his mouth around the head of Zuko’s cock, Zuko whines. He flushes red, hips jerking, and Sokka takes this as his cue to go to work.

Zuko can’t control himself, and it’s not fair. It’s not fair that he doesn’t get to see either of them like this, and he wants to complain until they take their clothes off, but he can’t bring himself to tell them to stop. Suki is stroking his bare chest and whispering in his ear, Sokka’s head is bobbing in his lap and Zuko can’t think straight. He can’t think at all.

Sokka swallows around Zuko’s cock, and Zuko can’t help his moan.

Suki tuts in his ear. “You’re so loud. There are people still here, you know. But you don’t care, do you? I don’t think you do.”

Zuko shakes his head at her words, and he isn’t sure if he’s saying he doesn’t care or if he does, because at this point, anything could happen and he probably wouldn’t notice. A hurricane could hit the house and he wouldn’t even realize it. He’s just grateful that most of the bedrooms are on the third floor, and they’re two stories below.

Sokka takes Zuko's cock in all the way to the base, and Zuko moans. “He’s so good, isn’t he?” Suki whispers conspiratorially. “He’s a really selfless lover, you’re in for a treat. A few nights ago he went down on me for hours. He can get off just knowing how good he’s making someone feel.” 

Zuko takes shallow breaths.  A few nights ago, when they were all at the house? When Zuko was one story up, and they were down here. Sokka was going down on her. And Suki was making little noises and trying to keep quiet because they’re in a house with over a half dozen people. And he was one story up. And Zuko can’t help but wonder what Suki sounds like when she comes because he has to know - and he was only one story up. He successfully manages to work himself up more.

Suki keeps whispering disgusting, debaucherous things in his ear, and it's almost earth shattering, the way she's the one in charge. That Zuko's the only one fully naked, completely at her mercy.

Heat builds in his stomach, cresting close to the surface, and his back arches. He's too close way too fast, and he doesn’t want this to be over so quickly, but if Sokka doesn't stop right now — 

“Sokka,” Zuko chokes, hand flailing down to catch Sokka’s wolf tail. “Sokka, I’m gonna — seriously, I’m — ”

Sokka eases upwards until just his lips are wrapped around the head of Zuko’s cock, then he releases it and sits back. He looks almost delirious: color is high in his cheeks, his pupils are blown wide, and sweat beads at his forehead. “But I was just starting to enjoy myself,” he says like he doesn’t look half destroyed already. Like he hasn’t destroyed Zuko already. “What next, then?”

Zuko has no clue where to go with that, and it takes a second for him to realize Sokka was talking to Suki anyway. Suki looks between Sokka and Zuko, a wicked smile curving her lips.

“Undress me,” she says, and Sokka wastes no time in stripping her of her shirt, bra, pants, and panties. There’s a huge wet spot on them, and Zuko doesn’t know how many head rushes he can experience in one night, but apparently he has another to spare.

Suki, bared to the world, smooth skin and tan lines and soft, curly hair, is to die for. Sokka clearly thinks so too, if his shudder is anything to go by.

“You’re gorgeous,” Zuko breathes before he can think better of it, and Suki looks at him and her cheeks go pink. Zuko blinks at her, stupefied; he’d never have thought someone so confident could be flattered by such a simple, unassuming compliment.

“So are you,” she says, and Zuko feels himself flush to the tips of his ears. Sokka laughs, delighted.

“That was barely even a compliment,” he teases, thumbing at Zuko’s scarred ear. That’s always red, so Zuko can’t imagine it’s red with his blush, but Sokka doesn’t seem to care.

“Don’t worry, boys, you’re both pretty,” she says as she lays back down on the bed. She parts her legs slightly and raises an eyebrow. Sokka smiles and leans towards her, and she puts her foot on his face to stop him. 

He frowns and steps back again, letting out an over dramatic sigh. “Suki,” his voice trails out the last syllable in a whine, pouting at her slightly. 

“Don’t be selfish,” she tuts. “You need to learn how to share.” She’s looking pointedly at Zuko, and he has to resist the urge to turn and see if someone’s behind him. He knows there isn’t. It’s still weird that they seem to want him as much as he wants them.

Sokka stops pouting and pushes Zuko towards her. “I’ll help you," he says.

Suki snorts. “Yes, you have no ulterior motives.”

“What can I say, I’m a generous guy.”

Zuko takes a deep breath and leans in, but Sokka grips him by the hair and tugs. It's not really painful, but does stop Zuko in his tracks.

“Don’t get too excited,” Sokka says. “Suki doesn’t say it, but she likes to be teased just as much as she likes to give it.”

She scoffs. “I do not.”

Sokka smirks. “Sure, yeah, sure.” He turns to Zuko and shakes his head and mouths ‘liar.’ 

She grunts. "Are you guys going to do this or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

“Seriously, don’t go too hard,” Sokka says, and Suki tsks at him.

“He wants to do good for us, though. Don’t you?”

Zuko nods. 

“So show us.”

Zuko leans forward, bracketing himself between her legs. He parts her folds, takes a deep breath, and licks a strip from her labia to her clit. Suki immediately grabs his hair, not tugging, just holding, and maneuvers him where she wants him to be. He lets himself be guided, flattening and pointing his tongue in turns.

Suki moans, chest heaving. “You’re doing amazing,” she tells Zuko, and he feels his back go red. “Oh, he’s blushing, how cute.”

“He’s spoiling you,” Sokka says, but he sounds breathless too.

Zuko focuses hard: he feels for what makes her twitch, listens for what makes her moan louder, what makes her whimper. He presses his tongue against her opening, not daring to go further, and Suki’s thighs clamp down around his ears. “Fuck,” she curses, purposefully loosening them. “Do that again.”

So Zuko does it again, and again, until the grip on his hair starts to hurt and Suki is panting. He surfaces for a breath, moves himself back up to her clit, and starts again with more fervor. 

Suki starts to tremble. It begins at her core, the muscles of her stomach jumping, and skitters down to her thighs. He feels the vibrations down through her pelvis, against his lips where they’re sucking at her clit, and he renews his efforts. He manages to maneuver his fingers under his chin so he can press one into her, and when that goes in without any trouble, he adds a second, hooking them and looking, looking for —

“Holy fuck,” Suki groans, head tilting back and pelvis tipping upwards. “Zuko, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, holy — ”

And then she’s shuddering and stiff and shaking apart on Zuko’s tongue, on Zuko’s fingers, her hand tangled in Zuko’s hair, not even bothering to muffle her drawn out moan and Zuko did that, he did that, he did that —

“Holy shit,” she says, and the hand in his hair tugs him away. He goes willingly, lets her drag him up the bed so that she can press her mouth to his. She can probably taste herself on his lips, and the idea makes him dizzy. “That was amazing, you were amazing, holy shit.”

Zuko basks in it, in the warmth of her arms and praise, but Sokka clears his throat and whines, “Suki, can we now, please?” and she pulls away. Her breathing is still uneven, but she’s radiant and glowing and grinning.

“Please, boys, don’t let me stop you.”

Sokka tackles him. It’s not violent; it’s sudden, and it startles Zuko nearly out of his daze, but then Sokka is kissing him and his hands are everywhere and Zuko is wrapped up again. Sokka wrestles them upright so they’re both kneeling, Suki beside them idly watching — and she’s watching, that is so fucking hot, she’s just watching them, she’s not even playing with herself she’s watching because she wants to, she doesn’t even have to get off — and between kisses Sokka is muttering “perfect, you’re perfect” and Zuko feels like he’s being punched out of his own body by the force of his pleasure.

And then Sokka looks down both their bodies and, after a second of grappling, manages to take both their cocks in hand.

Zuko keens, head falling to Sokka’s shoulder. He’s clutching, clawing at skin for purchase; he can’t breathe, he’s drowning; Sokka’s huffing in his ear, and their cocks are pressed together, holy fuck.

“You’re huge,” Zuko chokes, half suffocating.

Sokka exhales a laugh that sounds more desperate than amused. “Flatterer,” he says, and then pumps his hand.

Stars burst in front of Zuko’s eyes. Pleasure zings up his body, crackles down his spine. He’s only along for the ride. He has no control. Sokka controls the pace, the movement, and both of their cocks. Sokka. Sokka. Sokka.

“I’m here, babe,” Sokka pants, and that’s when Zuko realizes he’s been chanting Sokka’s name out loud. Sokka grunts, hips erratically thrusting into his fist. The drag against Zuko’s cock is so sweet that he can’t help but cry out. “You’re amazing, Zuko, fuck, you’re so perfect, fuck — ”

Zuko can’t help it: he bites down where Sokka’s shoulder meets his neck, holding on for dear life. His hands can’t get enough purchase. His teeth are the only thing grounding him to the world. “Sokka,” he grits, because he feels his orgasm swelling up within him like a tidal wave, and he’s already the bottom, he can’t come last too — “Sokka, Sokka, ‘m gonna — ”

“Me too, me too, oh fuck — ”

And then they’re both coming, and Zuko really is seeing stars now, and Sokka is saying his name over and over again and Suki is masturbating behind them, he can hear her, and it feels so good, everything feels so good.

He shudders in Sokka’s arms, and can’t hold himself up anymore. He’s wasted his energy trying to stay on his knees, trying to be good, trying to — trying...

But then he’s lying beside Suki as she finishes up, and Sokka is lying next to him, and they’re pressed up against each other. He’s in the middle, and the warmth on either side of him is so nice and he’s so tired, like if he tried to move he wouldn’t be able to. All his limbs feel like they’re fifty pounds, but he feels so light, like he could float away. He doesn’t have to think. He’s fine where he is.

It almost feels like he’s dozing. He’s aware, but everything is muted. Softer. It’s nice. He likes it here.

Sokka moves, and Zuko makes a protesting noise. He can’t leave. Where is Sokka going? Why isn’t he here? He was keeping Zuko’s side warm, where did he go, where —

“Shh,” Suki soothes, smoothing hair off his forehead that Zuko hadn’t known was plastered there. “He’s coming back, Zuko, don’t worry. He’s just getting a washcloth so that you can clean up a little.”

Zuko… Zuko doesn’t like that. He wants Sokka now, not clean. He wants Sokka to be up against him keeping him warm, because that’s where Sokka should be, and Zuko was just in a warm sandwich, and now he isn’t. 

“Don’t frown like that,” Sokka’s voice says, and Zuko perks up. “Your face might get stuck.” Sokka’s hands, broad and warm, hold Zuko up a bit and swipe a wet washcloth up his chest. A separate washcloth sweeps across his forehead and gently runs over his face and neck, clearing away sweat.

It’s nice, but it’s not Sokka nice, and Zuko wants Sokka nice. “Bed?” He says hopefully when the washcloths go away, and Sokka chuckles a little. But the bed dips, and Sokka’s warmth returns, and Zuko burrows down into it with a sigh.

Above his head, Sokka and Suki are having a soft conversation, but it’s not about him and Zuko feels too good to be worried right now. Their voices soothe him, lull him a little, and he really is half dozing by the time he registers his name being said.


Suki’s voice smiles. “We were wondering if you would want to do this again, sometime.”

Zuko laughs, breathless. “‘gain sometime? E’rr’y night.”

This earns him dual laughter. Sokka curls up behind him and whispers, “Good, because we’ve got some more ideas.”

Zuko’s tired, but not tired enough to not want to hear what they have planned next. “Mmm, like wha’?”

“We’ll tell you tomorrow,” Suki says, kissing his forehead gently. It sends a roll of warmth through him, and he smiles fuzzily up at her. She smiles back.

 And then Sokka and Suki really settle down, pulling a blanket over them. Zuko has no clue where they got it, and he doesn’t care. It’s warm, and it smells like them. 

Speaking of — “D’ I really… smell like cinn’mon?” He murmurs, on the brink of sleep.

Sokka’s lips find the back of his ear. “Really, really,” Sokka says, and that’s the last thing Zuko hears before he’s out like a light.