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He tries to duck away, but his opponent is faster. Better. More skilled. Before he can muster a defense, he’s shot. Crimson splashes in front of him.
“Fuck,” Zuko curses out loud, resisting the urge to throw the controller at the flickering screen displaying the mocking “game over” message in blinking recession. He didn’t see it coming, although he should have known by now. That’s what player melonlord00 is prone to do. Still, he doesn’t seem to learn. It feels like a facsimile of his life. Doing the same mistake over and over again.
He exhales the breath he’s been holding and leans back, trying to soothe the ache in his back from where he’s been slumped over his desk for the past three hours.
Glancing at the corner of his screen, he spots his co-op partner on the map. The other player, Kyoshi_warrior, is approaching him now. Zuko quickly types a warning, but then he’s shot too. Fuck. They were so close this time.
He sighs and leans back, running a hand over his face.
The texture of his scar feels smooth beneath his fingertips, like pulled taut plastic. Skin shouldn’t be so soft when it’s dead, he thinks. But it must be the expensive creams his uncle insists on buying for him. To soothe the pain. Or at least, that’s what he called it. Zuko knows better. It’s just another attempt to mask the ugliness he sees in himself. A futile effort to hide the truth.
That’s also the reason he likes to do, well, this. Sitting in his dark and LED-lit room, playing games, where his avatar is not only braver and stronger, but also unscarred. Plus, he recovers every time he’s been hurt. That’s also an ability Zuko is lacking. But who cares, right? He tries not to think too much about the pain embedded between his ribs.
Defeated, he takes off his pink headphones adorned with cat ears. It was a gift from his childhood friend Mai and yes, he would rather kill himself than let anyone see them on him. But he likes them, still. Loves them even. Mai gave them to him because she used to call Zuko a cat-like alien. Zuko also melts to the touch when he has his head caressed, but that's another thing only Mai knows about him. He misses her in a way you can only miss your best friend. He’s happy for he, embarking on her semester abroad, likely clubbing tonight with Tylee. At least she’s putting herself out there.
The apartment is quiet when his ears are exposed to the non-noise-cancelled environment. Iroh’s out for the night. He often is. Playing Pai Sho or getting out for music night, whatever that means. Zuko is pretty sure his uncle tries to give him as much space as possible. He often offered to help looking for a room on campus or a shared flat, but Zuko always replied that he couldn’t help out in the tea shop downstairs if he lived elsewhere. It’s easier that way. Plus, Zuko just doesn’t know how to talk to someone who’s, well, not his uncle or Mai, let alone how to live with someone he doesn’t even know. It’s embarrassing, really. But then again, it doesn’t fucking matter. He tries not to think about these things too much.
With a few clicks he exits the game and sits in silence for a few minutes, stretching his hands over his head and staring blindly when the Discord chat comes to life. Melonlord00 and kyoshi_warrior are sending mocking Gifs and it’s only then that he realizes that boomeranguy isn’t chatting along, like he usually does. He’s probably pissed that Zuko fucked up their quest again. Whatever.
As he leans forward to close the program, a private chat notification pops up. It’s nothing unusual, except it is. They always discuss strategies before each game, not afterwards. He hesitates, and then he clicks on the bubble.
boomeranguy [23:44 pm]
Got a minute?
Zuko gulps. He’s mad. He’s sure he is. He knows that’ll be the moment this guy will tell him, hey, you know what, fuck you, I’m looking for a different online partner and yes, fuck all the gems we collected together, because fuck you and fuck the time we spent together playing, you’re the worst.
boomeranguy [23:45 pm]
won’t take long
promise
Zuko blinks and gulps. Whatever.
user#753923629 [23:45 pm]
what is it?
Then the incoming call button appears. Zuko makes a strangled sound and scoots back. Staring at it because what the fuck? He didn’t expect boomeranguy to call him. Seconds seem to stretch into eternity as he remains frozen, then, as suddenly as it appeared, the button disappears.
boomeranguy [23:47 pm]
just answer the call pls?
Zuko tries to calm down his heart, which is beating like crazy. He knows it’s nothing unusual, to call and talk to someone while playing online, for Christ’s sake. But he never does. He knows it’s normal, but he isn’t, okay?
boomeranguy [23:48 pm]
Lee?
He clears his throat. When the guy asked for his name one time, he gave him this one. He doesn’t even know why, but boomeranguy said he’s sick of calling a user, well, a user. Also, he claimed it sounded too much like loser and he wouldn’t want to “jinx the game”.
Okay, deep breaths in and out. He got this. He will listen to what this guy has to say and then he will reply: sure, no big deal. Thank you for playing with me. No, you can take the gems. Yes, that’s fine.
End of story.
He got this.
boomeranguy [23:53 pm]
u know I can see ur online
user#753923629 [23:53 pm]
sorry my food got burned
had to run
Worst excuse. He grits his teeth.
boomeranguy [23:54 pm]
ok hope u stop burning things now
can u take the call pls?
Zuko didn’t even see the incoming call button this time. He gulps and reaches for his headphones, pulling them on. Then he clicks accept. It’s quiet and he checks for the connect signal on his headphones.
“Didn’t expect you to actually take my call,” a voice crackles through his headphones, oddly soothing yet scratchy at the same time. Despite himself, Zuko finds a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Get a grip.
“Uhm, sorry, yeah. What’s up?” he replies and it’s quiet before the guy breaths out slowly. “Woah, didn’t expect you to have such a husky voice.”
Zuko feels heat rising to his cheeks, and it wasn’t even a compliment, was it? Unsure of how to respond, he’s silent again. The guy adds, “The reason I called is, uhm, you can call me Sokka by the way, nice to finally hear you, Lee.” A short pause, then he goes on, “I just wanted to say -” “It’s okay,” Zuko cuts in. He clears his throat. “I-I am sorry. You can keep the gems, of course.”
He hears rustling, like someone is moving bed sheets. Then Sokka lets out a laugh. “The fuck, Lee?”
He doesn’t understand. That’s the reason Sokka called, right? To be kind of polite while breaking off things. Expect for, right, he never actually mentioned it.
“You thought I wanna break up?” The bemusement tinges his voice in a lighter, amused tone, taking away part of the tension, which creeped up on Zuko and into his shoulders.
“Uhm, wouldn’t call it that way but yeah, I guess so?” he replies.
“No, man,” Sokka sighs. “I just wanted to call to tell you to fucking accept my help, when I’m offering.”
Zuko feels stupid. So fucking stupid that he feels his cheek heat up again. “What?” he replies dumbly.
“You should start to take my help! I am a healer, okay? I have healing skills. I can fucking heal you, got it?” he asks. Zuko nods and realizes Sokka can’t see him, so he adds a “y-yes” and it sounds weird.
“Or do you want to die alone?” he prods. “Is that’s what you’re after?” Zuko shakes his head, again, adds a “no”. He’s grabbing his desk with both hands, runs them over the mouse pad, tries to busy himself with something.
“You seem to like it though,” Sokka continues. “You always split up, get yourself in trouble and die.”
“You make it sound like I’m doing it on purpose.”
“Uhm, yeah? Because you make it seem like you’re doing it on purpose. It takes a click on the refuse button to refuse my help, you know? And you’re clicking it every single time I’m trying to help you, just so that you can die alone in a room you’re looting, when there’s nothing to loot. I just don’t -,”
Sokka stops himself.
Zuko feels dumb. And angry, probably.
“Then just don’t play with me,” he snaps, when the other doesn’t continue.
“No man, I really enjoy playing with you to be honest,” Sokka admits, but his voice sounds annoyed still. “Just fucking take my help. Is it really that difficult for you?”
Zuko wonders how bizarre it is that he hears the same thing in different words and in a different context so often in his life. And maybe Sokka is right. Maybe Iroh was right. And maybe Mai had a point. But he can do it alone. Why can’t he? He just has to get through it, get stronger, smarter or whatever it takes to be fine on his own.
“If it weren’t for me, we wouldn’t even have the amount of gems and extra weapons we do now!” he hears himself bark. It sounds louder than he wanted it to. The scar on his face itches and he suppresses the urge to scrab it.
“Well, yeah, well done Sifu Lee, thank you for looting extremely useless boxes with weapons we can’t use because you keep dying!”
And yes, he’s got a point. They’ve never reached the levels where they could activate most of their supplies. Because of him. But he won’t give him that now.
“Maybe you should start with having my back by killing melonlord. They always come for me!” he retorts and crosses his arms in front of his chest. It’s childish but this Sokka guy can’t see him anyway.
“I am busy fighting kyoshi_warrior AND trying to save your ass by sending healing powers. You just fucking have to accept them!” the other yells, then he adds: “Except you actually like it.”
Zuko stills. “What?” he mutters and exhales through his mouth.
“Except you get off by dying alone over and over again.” Sokka goes on. “You like that, huh? Feeling stepped on, forgotten? So you get yourself into the situation all the time, trying to feel useless again.”
Zuko presses his thighs together and tries to swallow past the lump that formed in his throat. Sokka’s voice sounds throaty.
“I-I don’t,” he tries but it comes out weak.
“Oh, no. I don’t believe you, Lee.”
Zuko feels heat coil in his abdomen. Desire and want; his body betraying him. It always does.
“Are you too proud to accept help? Too proud to accept it but then you willingly threw yourself in front of my feet, offering me to take all the gems, when we’d split up.”
He’s right. Zuko unfolds his arms, digs into his thighs with both his hands. It’s a futile attempt to stop the blood from pumping hot between his legs. He breathes out shakingly. What even is this conversation? It’s like this guy knows exactly where to put the light on and Zuko, he feels fucking exposed. It’s so unnerving it’s slowing his heartbeat down.
“Tell me, Lee. Do the other players know you’re so desperate for it?” He sounds surer of himself now; his words go straight to Zuko’s dick. His fingers twitch and he looks down at the bulge, that’s already forming in his grey sweatpants. His dark hair falls into his eyes, where it grew too long, and he bites his lip. Trying to muffle a moan, where it wants to escape his throat.
“Can you be good and at least apologize to me?” Sokka continues and it seems like he’s breathing deeper. Zuko closes his eyes, tries to center himself again, but he can’t stop it. He slides a hand on his crotch and presses down his palm. He gasps with the friction it offers and bucks up his hips.
“I- I am –,” he’s cut off with a sharp inhale and embarrassment floods through his veins, thrumming. “I am s-sorry,” he breathes out. Bucking up again because it feels so good and wrong.
He hears Sokka curse under his breath, but he can’t really make out the words besides “fuck”.
It’s quiet for a few seconds and Zuko knows he fucked up. How could this guy play with him again, after finding out he’s a pathetic little – “Tell me what you are sorry for,” Sokka cuts through his spiraling thoughts.
Zuko lets his head roll back again the headrest of his gaming chair and tires to calm down his heartbeat. He clears his throat. “I-I am s-sorry for not accepting your help.”
“Good boy,” Sokka replies and Zuko lets out a sob.
Did he just –? He claps his hands over his mouth in a rush of panic. “Fuck. Sorry! I should probably go. Sorry. Fuck, sorry for fucking it up,” he hears himself say and his hands are trembling when he leans forward to press the button to end the call.
But Sokka’s voice stops him. “Stop, Lee. Hey, it’s okay!” he says and Zuko can hear a rustling again at the end of the line. He swallows. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes. He tries to blink them away. Shame gnaws at him. Heats him up from inside.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he then says quietly.
“I don’t?”
He doesn’t know what to respond and for some stupid reason, his mind wanders to the truth. “I liked it,” he admits, before the courage can seep out of him like it always does. But this is a guy he never has to meet, right? So, it doesn’t even matter. Expect it kind of feels like it does.
“You did?” Sokka questions and he nods to himself. His dick is still hard in his boxers.
He gulps.
“Can you – I’ve been…,” he lets the words hang in the air, hoping Sokka would pick them up and mold them into a coherent form.
“Yeah, Lee,” he replies slowly, then, surer, “You’ve been a good boy. Make yourself feel good.”
And it’s all Zuko needed to stretch the elastic bands of his joggers and boxers and sneak a hand inside where it’s hot and damp, to curl his fingers around his shaft. It feels better than he remembers. He tightens his grip, feeling the slickness of precum gathering at the tip in the cool air of the room.
“Are you touching yourself, baby?”
The nickname goes straight to his dick, making it twitch. “Y-yeah,” he breathes out, slowly starting to work his length.
Sokka lets out a breath, “Good.”
Zuko lets his eyes fall shut, swallowing the light around him. He imagines it’s Sokka’s hand on him. Hot and tight, working him up relentlessly.
“Does it feel good, baby?” Sokka asks. “Tell me how it feels.”
“I-it’s good,” Zuko admits, liking his bottom lip. “Feels so good, Sokka.”
“Fuck, baby,” Sokka’s voice comes in short breaths, and Zuko wonders if he’s also touching himself. If he’s liking the sound of Zuko’s voice as much as Zuko likes his.
“Sokk- ah – I am,” Zuko pumps himself faster now, his abdomen contracting with its own rhythm.
“You close?” Sokka asks, and a moan echoes in Zuko’s brain, bringing him even closer to the edge.
“Yeah,” he exhales, twisting his first as it comes down again.
“Touch your nipples,” Sokka commands, and Zuko obeys immediately, pulling up his shirt. He wonders how this guy knows all his weaknesses, if he’s that easy to read. But he doesn’t find it in himself to care. Sokka already feels like a drug.
He rolls the bud between his thumb and forefinger, hissing at the sensation, bucking up into his own first. It’s good, so fucking good.
“Good boy,” Sokka moans, and Zuko sees black stars dance in his vision. A moan wrenches itself free, and the heat in his belly explodes. His dick twitches in his hold, and he pinches his nipple harder. Working his length until –
“Sokka-ah,” he moans as the wave rushes through him, sending him tumbling over the edge. “F-fuck,” he sobs. The orgasm hits him with an unforeseeable intensity. His cum is shoots up his belly, onto shirt and into his boxers, running down his trousers. “Fuck.”
He sees white before he can recollect his thoughts from the heat in his veins.
Burning up from inside, he’s glad the other can’t see his face right now. “Sorry,” he says. Throat feeling too tight to get in enough air.
“No, I liked it,” Sokka says, still breathing fast like he just ran a marathon. He wonders if he – something is dripping from his fingers.
He looks at the mess he made. Sticky cum clinging to his hand and shirt.
“Sorry,” he murmurs again. Sokka tuts. “Told you not to be sorry, Lee,” he chides.
“Will you still play with me?” he asks and it’s too late for him to realize how that sounds, before Sokka huffs out a laugh and replies playfully: “Sure, I’ll play with you, baby.”
Zuko can still feel his heartbeat in his pants when they hang up.