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As much as Sokka had grown to love Caldera City and being an ambassador, there was always something wonderful about coming home, especially when he could drag Zuko home with him.
Zuko was ostensibly at the South Pole to negotiate a trade deal with Hakoda, but really because Sokka had decided that he was working too hard and needed a vacation. Zuko, who was allergic to the very concept of vacations, had required surprisingly little convincing; it was weird, but Sokka wasn’t going to look a gift ostrich-horse in the mouth.
The feeling of the wind on Sokka’s cheeks was a familiar sting, even after a year away from the South Pole. The bright white of the ice and snow were almost blinding, but he didn’t mind. He’d been walking this path since he was a child; the way back to his village was practically etched into his bones. Despite the freezing temperatures, the nostalgia of being back was enough to keep him warm.
Well, that, his heavy coat, and his firebender.
Said firebender was decidedly not wearing a parka. Said firebender had decided he didn’t need a coat when Sokka had dragged him out of his furs to see the sunrise because I’m a firebender, Sokka . Said firebender had sent a few sparks in Sokka’s general direction when Sokka had strongly suggested that he reconsider, so Sokka had resolved to let said firebender be cold.
Sokka enjoyed the crunch of his boots in the fresh snow while Zuko trudged miserably next to him. He was doing a very bad job of hiding his shivering. The firebender was as warm as usual, but the South Pole was, in a surprise to absolutely no one but said firebender, as cold as usual. There was only so much an inner flame could do against the literal arctic, but did anyone (Zuko) listen to Sokka? Of course not.
“If it wouldn’t cause a diplomatic incident, I would crawl into a pile of furs right now and refuse to leave until we were back in Caldera City,” the Fire Lord sulked. “You’re my ambassador; can’t you do these trade negotiations for me? Do I actually have to be here?”
Sokka laughed. “No, Fire Lord ,” he said with an eye roll. “You don’t have to be here to finalize the super important trade negotiations between the Southern Water Tribe and, oh, yeah, the country you run .”
“I’m going to cause a diplomatic incident by shoving my ambassador into a snowbank and leaving him there,” huffed Zuko. “Being mean to me counts as treason.”
“Plus, Dad would be sad if you left before he could take you ice fishing,” Sokka ignored Zuko’s idle threat of violence, as he always did. Once he’d seen Zuko cradling a baby turtleduck, the firebender had lost pretty much all ability to appear intimidating.
Zuko made a noise of protest. “Your father is going to hate me when he realizes I can’t fish,” he complained, sounding very much like what he was: an eighteen year-old who really wanted his best friend’s dad to like him. No matter how often Sokka assured him that was already the case, Zuko had a capital T Thing about fathers for obvious reasons, and he’d never stopped trying to impress Sokka’s.
“You’ll learn,” Sokka said with easy confidence. There was very little Zuko couldn’t do through sheer stubbornness. “But I’ll sneak a fish or two into your bag that you can stick on your line and pretend you caught, just in case.”
“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” Zuko sniffed, playing the part of the haughty Fire Lord. His performance was undercut severely by his chattering teeth, which made him look less regal and more pathetic.
Huh. It was almost like someone could have told him that would happen.
“Are you cold?” Sokka knew the answer, he just wanted to hear Zuko say it.
Zuko glared at him. “We are in the middle of the South Pole,” he said by way of answer. He hugged himself, as if that would make his thin jacket any warmer.
“What was it that you said this morning?” Sokka pretended to think really hard, reveling in Zuko’s clear irritation just a little too much. “Oh, I remember. I told you to bring a coat, and you said something along the lines of I’m a firebender, idiot, I don’t need a coat! I believe you mentioned your Breath of Fire at least four times, too. Do I have that right?”
Zuko glared at him and pointedly breathed out a small lick of fire. “I’m fine,” he said, clenching his jaw so hard that Sokka was certain he’d break a tooth. “And it was only three times, so fuck off.”
“Aw, but then who would keep you warm?” asked Sokka. He slung an arm over Zuko’s shoulders. Sokka was taller than Zuko, which brought him no small amount of smug satisfaction. Sure, it was an inch of difference, but it was a really big inch.
“I’m going to light you on fire,” Zuko muttered. “That’ll keep me warm.”
“So you admit you’re cold, then?” Sokka raised an eyebrow. “And that you should’ve brought your heavy coat like I told you to?”
Zuko scowled and pushed Sokka away lightly. Lightly, always lightly, even though Sokka knew Zuko could send him sprawling with little to no effort. “Never,” he said, just to be contrary.
“Go on, say it,” Sokka teased. “ You were right, Sokka, it’s cold in the South Pole, which you know because you lived here for your entire childhood, and I should have brought a jacket. You’re a genius and I should always listen to you. ”
Zuko’s snort of laughter was undignified, but entirely sincere. “I’d rather freeze.”
“I won’t say I told you so ,” Sokka said magnanimously. “But you should know that I’m thinking it.”
As they walked, Sokka untied his outer jacket and shrugged it off. He’d be a little chilly, sure, but they weren’t far from the village, and his inner jacket was more than enough to keep him warm until they got there. It was worth it for the way that Zuko’s eyes went slightly wide.
“What are you doing?” he asked, though it was very clear what Sokka was doing. He hummed as he draped the overcoat over Zuko’s shoulders. Sokka held out the sleeves so that Zuko could slide his arms into them, which, after a moment of hesitation, he did.
“C’mon, jerkbender, stop being stubborn. Take my jacket, it’s cold outside,” Sokka coaxed, ignoring Zuko’s grumbling to tie the jacket closed. For good measure (and to be annoying), he flipped the hood up over Zuko’s eyes.
Zuko’s cheeks, already red from the biting wind, blushed even darker. “I don’t need your jacket,” he lied blatantly, making no move to take it off. In fact, he wrapped it tight around himself and closed his eyes, visibly enjoying the warmth.
Zuko wasn’t small, but he looked it at that moment, drowning in the folds of Sokka’s large overcoat. The sleeves went past his hands, so only the tips of his fingers were visible where he held the fabric close against his body. Under the large hood, Sokka could only see the tip of his nose and the wry twist of his mouth. When Zuko reached up to flip the hood back down, his eyes somehow looked more gold against the blue fabric. His lips were moving, but Sokka was too busy trying not to stare to actually listen to what his friend was saying.
Logically, Sokka knew Zuko was attractive. He had an unfair combination of shiny hair, muscles, and piercing golden eyes that made something stir in Sokka’s chest if he thought about it for too long. He was never surprised that Zuko was beautiful; it was just that, bundled in Sokka’s oversized coat, Zuko looked cute , too.
“What did you say?” Sokka shook his head to clear it. Those were not thoughts he needed to be having, especially not right then.
“I said that I don’t want you to be cold now,” despite that, Zuko still made no move to leave what Sokka was sure was a very warm jacket cocoon.
“We’re only a few minutes away from home,” Sokka, resisting the urge to do something stupid like grab Zuko’s hand, urged them both forward. “You looked like you were going to turn into an icicle if I waited any longer, though.”
“Did not!”
“You so did.”
With a noise of mock frustration, Zuko stomped off towards the village, a blue blur against the blinding whiteness of the landscape. Sokka, laughing, followed.
True to Sokka’s prediction, they were back at the village within ten minutes. Sokka didn’t even have a chance to feel cold; he’d somehow managed to bait Zuko into a rant about the Ember Island Players that had him spitting sparks and bringing up the temperature around him. Sokka was egging him on, purely because it was hilarious to watch Zuko lose his head over something that wasn’t life or death for a change.
“I don’t know, I think they cast you perfectly in that last play,” Sokka said lightly as Zuko did his level best to firebend through his eyes. “They got our height difference correct, at least.”
“ Less than an inch! ” Zuko shouted. “My actor was a solid foot shorter than yours!”
“Grow,” Sokka said with a shrug. “Skill issue.”
Sokka could tell from Zuko’s growl that if they hadn’t arrived at the tent right then, he would’ve been tackled into a snowbank by an incensed firebender. Ah, nostalgia. Katara was waiting for them at the entrance, holding the flap open for them. Since Zuko had fooled everyone else into thinking that he was well-behaved, he did nothing but shoot Sokka a death glare in front of a witness. Sokka knew he was in for it when they sparred later, though.
“Do you two ever stop bickering?” Katara complained without heat. “You’re worse than Dad and Bato. Come inside, you’re letting all of the cold air in.”
“After you, Fire Lord,” Sokka said graciously. He ushered Zuko inside with a comically exaggerated arm movement, which made Zuko roll his eyes.
“Hey, Katara,” Zuko greeted, ignoring Sokka’s antics completely, as he was wont to do. “How are you?”
“Fine, fine,” she gave him a quick hug, then turned to give one to Sokka, as well. “How about you? I see you haven’t killed my brother for being irritating yet.”
Zuko smiled. “It was very difficult to resist,” he said solemnly. “But I do my best.”
“Rude!” Sokka protested. He smacked the back of Zuko’s head. “See if I lend you my coat again, jerkbender. I’m just going to let you turn into a Zukosicle next time, mark my words.”
“Huh,” Katara made a face as she actually looked at Zuko, taking in his bright blue layer. “Why are you wearing Sokka’s jacket, Zuko? Where’s yours? I know you have one; Sokka made it for you last year.” Even though she was asking Zuko, Katara side-eyed Sokka.
“Katara, Katara, this is hilarious,” Sokka sidled up to his sister, enjoying both the warmth of the tent and watching Zuko try to undo the knots holding the jacket closed with half-frozen fingers. “Katara, ask him about his Breath of Fire. Go on, ask him. Ask him, hey, Zuko, is your Breath of Fire enough to keep you warm in the literal South Pole? Ask him how warm he is. Ask him if he needs a coat.”
“I’m not going to do that when I already know the answer,” Katara rolled her eyes, playing along. “Look at him, he looks so sad and cold. It would be like kicking an isopuppy.”
Zuko, for a fleeting second, looked inexplicably guilty. As soon as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by his usual scowl. “I wasn’t cold,” he huffed and crossed his arms, as if they both hadn’t seen right through him. “Firebenders don’t get cold; Sokka’s lying. I’m going to get my own coat for completely unrelated reasons, though.”
Sokka definitely did not watch Zuko putter around the tent looking for his coat, because that would have been weird, and Sokka was being so normal about Zuko. Katara elbowed him sharply in the side and drew his attention away.
“What was that for?” he whined, rubbing his side. Katara had sharp elbows.
“Don’t firebenders regulate their temperature with bending?” she asked under her breath. “Doesn’t Zuko do that literally every time he’s here? I saw him training in short sleeves last time. In the middle of the South Pole.”
“Yes?” he said, stretching the syllable out and making a face. He had no idea where she was going with this.
“Those were rhetorical questions,” she waved a hand. “Because we both know that . My real question is, if he can bend himself toasty warm, why is he wearing your jacket?”
“He was cold today,” Sokka said defensively. “Maybe his firebending is wonky right now? I don’t know!”
Katara leveled him with an unimpressed look. Across the room, Zuko exhaled a long, slow breath, filling the igloo with warmth. Zuko had busied himself with his bags where they were stacked near Sokka’s, looking markedly less cold and miserable now that they were all inside. He even had a small smirk playing on his lips. He was still wearing Sokka’s jacket. He’d untied it to show the red and gold of his tunic, but he hadn’t replaced it with his own yet.
“I’m sure that’s what it is,” Katara said finally. Sokka couldn’t tell what she was thinking; she looked smug, exasperated, and something else that he couldn’t quite read. “That’s the only explanation that makes sense, obviously.”
“I know my firebender,” Sokka ignored her amused snort, because he did know Zuko, and Zuko had absolutely needed a coat. “Look at him! Look how much happier he is toasty warm! Did you expect me to let him freeze out there? Heartless, absolutely heartless.”
“Oh, I’m looking at something,” Katara said, more to herself than to Sokka. “Spirits save me from you idiots.”
Sensing eyes on him, Zuko turned and caught Sokka’s gaze, giving him a blinding grin that Sokka couldn’t help but return. His nose and cheeks were red still, but he was much more bundled than before. He had found a hat, gloves, and–
“Is that my scarf?” Sokka demanded. Zuko was wrapped in a Water Tribe-blue scarf, one that Sokka would bet a lot of money that he hadn’t brought with him to the South Pole.
His suspicion was confirmed when Zuko’s grin morphed into a mischievous smirk as he tossed the end of the scarf over his shoulder. The scarf that he had absolutely stolen from Sokka’s bag. “No,” he said innocently.
Sokka raised an eyebrow. “It says property of Sokka on the tag.”
“Possession is nine-tenths of the law,” Zuko said seriously. He shrugged as if to say it’s in my possession, now . His eyes sparkled as he retied his (Sokka’s!) overcoat and moved to leave the tent. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have very important trade negotiations to get to.”
“Hey, wait just one second!” Sokka shouted, dashing after Zuko. Katara’s laugh followed him out. “You give that back! That’s my favorite scarf!”