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Firelord Zuko. A brave fearless ruler of the Fire Nation, one that has helped stop a 100 year war. That Lord, in all his glory, has succumbed to this, a drunken mess, puddled on the floor of his chambers.
"Come on man, get up." Sokka tries to get the other to his feet, but to no avail.
Zuko groans.
Tonight there was a gathering, one with many nobles and allies present. One that caused the Lord a tun of stress. So much so that he had picked up far too many glasses for his well being. And now they're left with this, not so pretty, aftermath.
"Is this what the 'Great Firelord' has become?" The Lord droops further to the ground.
Sokka leans down, looping his arms around this upper torso, "You cant be acting this way," with all his might he pulls him us, adjusting his grip ever so slightly. "Seriously."
He steps closer to the bed. He's slow, being sure not to let go of the other.
Zukos feet drag on the floor.
Finally, they make it. Sokka plops the Lord down on his mattress, but how hes having trouble loosening his grip. He attempts prying his hands off, but he's really not willing to let go.
Sokka groans.
The nights already been long enough. And now to top it off he has to find a way to deal with Zuko in this mess of a state.
"My lord," he says after a long huff, "can you please let go?" Zuko huffs, and digs his face into the others chest.
Okaaay. So no?
His only option its to sit and wat for the other to drift asleep. Which, knowing Zuko, shouldn't take long. Sokka shifts just enough so that he's able to lay on the bed completely now. Zukos arms slide to Sokkas torso, locking his fingers together. That might make it harder to escape.
Sokka half hazardly placed his hands around the Lord. Staring at the blank wall across from him. Suddenly, hes interested in the texture, it's color, it's structure. Fascinating how the castle is a few hundreds to thousands of years old and it's still holding up!
Zukos grip tightens lightly, nuzzling in more, humming. Everything seems so much louder, now more than ever.
Every little sound.
The candles flickering. The crickets outside. The guards out in the hall.
His breathing, and heartbeat.
Everything.
"You smell nice," a quiet voice said. It was sweet, a mindless statement. One can only assume he's being truthful. "Like..." He paused to think, "like the Ocean."
"I do?"
He hums in response, then continues, "You also smell like you haven't taken a bath in a while." The mess of a Lord chuckled softly to himself.
That one was expected. Still hurt though.
But then he add, "Its nice." Oh?
"Uh, thank you?"
The Lord pulls away meeting eyes with his ambassador. He blinks slowly, eyes scanning the other, as if admiring him.
He only sighs wistfully. And while maintaining eye contact he states, "You'd make a wonderful husband."
There was no reaction. No response. Because, what do you say to that?
"Adaptable, and intelligent. Caring, and handsome. You're also funny, sometimes..." He holds eye contact, Sokka dares to break it. "I'd marry you in a heartbeat."
He unlocked his fingers, cupping Sokkas face.
"Imagine waking up in the same bed, the sun shining through our window. Sneaking around the castle, hiding away from our duties. Eating dinner with each other. Holding eachother," one hand is placed on top of Sokkas, "like this?"
"All the time." He adds.
Finally, Sokka blinks back to reality. He takes both Zukos hands and pull the down.
"You're wasted."
He brushed off his fantasy as if it was mindless drabble, because that's what's easiest. Denial was a beautiful thing, that could easily grab hold of a person and pull them along the endless stream.
Hes not in the right state of mind. He doesn't know what he's saying.
All lies to keep himself afloat.
The Lord speaks once more, "I'd make a good husband." Sokka smiled faintly, "Yes, you would,"
"So, will you marry me?"
Sokka stays quiet. Maybe. Maybe under different circumstances.
He blankly stares art the other, in his mess of a state. In all his glory. The other looked up at him, eyes full, lit with hope, and a silly fantasy.
A fantasy that he wouldn't mind playing into himself.
Sure. He'd marry him. But nows not the time.
Sokka lightly squeezed the Lords hands, placing a kiss on the knuckles. Pulling his closer and into his chest, he rubbed his back until they both feel asleep.
They'll get married sometime. Sometime soon.