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Zuko is stressed.
Which is understandable, even goes without saying—Sokka's fiancé is juggling the responsibilities of being the Fire Lord, the two different wedding ceremonies they're planning, and the crotchety, close-minded politicians he's slowly weeding out of his council, all on top of the seemingly never-ending mountain of paperwork that is permanently fixed to his desk.
Sokka finds that Zuko's stress usually presents itself in mindless, physical habits. He bites at his lips, nails, the ends of his hair, anything within reach that he can slip between his teeth. It doesn't stop at biting, though. Zuko will suck the tip of his finger or a stylus into his mouth and rub against his gums. He keeps hard candies in his robes, painstakingly rolling them around in his mouth, and suckling at them until they're nonexistent.
It's not like Sokka enjoys seeing his fiancé in distress, but he can't help being disgustingly endeared when he watches Zuko toy with his own mouth. As well as inappropriately turned on when Sokka replaces whatever is between Zuko's lips with his fingers. The highly esteemed Fire Lord favors two, just enough pressure to quiet his brain and smooth the pinch in his brows.
But Zuko's preferred form of self-care is having Sokka's cock in his mouth. It's one of the few methods that work to relax Zuko without fail, the tension in his shoulders and face easing every time Sokka sinks into that wet, burning heat. Zuko loves being bent over and fucked within an inch of his life, adores the way his cock looks stretching Sokka's hole in an obscene sight, but nothing compares to the way his fiancé gets with a dick in his throat.
Zuko gets all soft and pliant when there's drool dripping from his chin. He makes pleased, gurgling noises when his nose presses against the dark, wiry hair at the base of Sokka's cock. In short, a blowjob is the most effective way to help Zuko decompress.
Sokka idly thinks Zuko is close to needing his mouth filled now, his fiancé’s patience is dwindling quickly. His foot taps a steady, irate rhythm on the black tile beneath it, his expression souring as General Wei drones on in disapproval about Zuko's latest military decree.
"Fire Lord Zuko, if I may speak plainly, the decision to eliminate—"
"You may not, General Wei. I advise you not to question—“ Sokka’s attempt to save Zuko’s waning composure is interrupted by General Wei.
”The decision to eliminate the squadrons residing in the Earth Kingdom is too hasty. What will come of the Fire Nation if they revolt? This time of peace will be in jeopardy if—“
”That’s enough, General Wei, thank you,” Zuko says in a clipped tone, leaving no room for argument. Considering his typically calm and tactful engagement with the members of his council, Zuko may as well have had a full-blown fit. A mixture of astonishment and amusement paints the faces lining the table, and Sokka can tell that if this goes on much longer, Zuko will only come out of it as an anxious ball of frayed nerves.
"In fact," Sokka declares, clapping his hands together, "This meeting is adjourned until further notice. Thank you all for your time, safe travels, you are dismissed." Sokka makes no effort to hide the fact that he won't take no for an answer, chairs scraping loudly as everyone makes their way to the large, ornate door of the throne room.
When they're alone, Zuko's shoulders slump, and he releases a long, exhausted exhale. "You don't have to fight my battles for me, Sokka. As Fire Lord, I have a duty—"
"Duty-shmuty, you're putting too much on yourself. I know you don't need any help defending yourself. But, even Fire Lords have breaking points, y'know." Sokka rises from his seat, tugging Zuko onto his feet and wrapping his arms around his fiancé’s waist. "Besides," Sokka says lightly, eyebrows raised. "I'm pretty sure as Fire Ambassador and the guy you're gonna marry, it's my duty to help you with these kinds of things."
Zuko cracks a fond, weary smile. He leans closer, pressing his cheeks against Sokka's, and melting into the embrace. "If you insist," he sighs, like the relief in his voice isn't evident. "Wei's term is almost up anyway, it doesn't matter what he thinks," Zuko sucks in a breath before continuing, voice lower, "But I think I know how you can really help me."
Sokka chuckles, removing the metal headpiece from Zuko's hair and placing it on the table. "Oh, really? And how is that again?" He knows what Zuko wants, already scanning the room for the nearest cushion to put on the ground. He doesn't move to grab it, he needs Zuko to tell him what he needs, so he waits. Sokka cards his hands through Zuko's long, silky hair, finger-combing loose any knots he locates.
The touch relaxes Zuko, his body sagging into Sokka's, heavy and warm. "I need you to fuck my face, please," Zuko mumbles into his ear, Sokka's gut tightening sharply at the words. He knew Zuko was going to want to suck him off, knew his fiancé was stressed beyond measure and needed something in his mouth to stop the thoughts racing through his head, but wasn't prepared for that specific request to leave his lips.
"Yeah, baby, okay." Sokka's voice cracks, "Spirits, that sounds perfect. You need it that badly?" Zuko nods against the side of his face.
“Just need you to make it all go away. I only wanna be able to think about you,” he says, pulling back to meet Sokka’s eyes. Zuko looks nothing short of ethereal like this, his shiny, dark hair splayed around his shoulders, face illuminated by the flickering pillars of fire behind Sokka. Zuko’s lips are bitten raw and red, patches of thin skin missing from where he’s been chewing at his mouth.
Sokka can’t resist the urge to kiss those lips—chapped or otherwise—so he doesn’t. He presses their mouth together gently, chaste brushes that drop heat into Sokka’s stomach and spread like fire. When they separate, some of the tension in Zuko's jaw releases.
“I can do that for you, come here for a second, though, let's get you a pillow,” Sokka hums, Zuko stepping to the side so he can snatch the nearest one and place it at the feet of the throne. Zuko’s right ear reddens at the sight, a short, shocked gasp tumbling out of him.
“Here?” Zuko murmurs. “You wanna do this here. On the throne?” He sounds hesitant, but nonetheless intrigued.
“You’re getting rid of it anyway,” Sokka shrugs. “Might as well make use of it while we still can.”
”Oh. Right, okay,” Zuko breathes. Sokka can see his cock stirring in interest, his own twitching at the thought of Zuko worshiping his dick in such a sacred, time-honored place. Sokka smirks, turning to sit on the throne with his legs spread wide, patting his thigh to beckon Zuko closer.
“C’mon, baby, help me untie these,” Sokka croons, gesturing to the flowing, deep blue robes he’s wearing. Zuko had them commissioned, they’re in the colors and patterns of the Water Tribe, but in the traditional Fire Nation style.
Zuko nods, licking his lips before planting his knees against the cushion, reaching eager fingers to the sashes around Sokka’s hips. He makes quick work of untying them, pushing the thick layers of fabric to each side of Sokka’s thighs, effectively displaying his hardening cock.
Sokka feels like royalty himself, surrounded by the opulence of the throne, and gifted with the view of Zuko on his knees. Red, orange, and yellow dance across his pale skin, making Zuko glow in a way that shouldn’t be allowed.
Wind and sea, Sokka is the luckiest man to ever live.
”Take yours off too, yeah? I wanna see your pretty skin all lit up by the fire,” Sokka asks, throwing in a pout for good measure.
Zuko bites his lip at the compliment in his request, shuffling back enough to undo his own fastenings, slipping the fabric completely off to pool around his legs, and Sokka doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful. With his hair down, unfairly muscular frame, and bitten lips on display, Zuko looks devastating.
“Fuck, Zuko. You’re so pretty, so perfect sitting at my feet, nice and patient,” Sokka says low, and raspy, with a hint of awe. Sometimes, he can’t believe the man in front of him is his. Zuko’s face splits into a wide, pleased grin, but his shoulders are taut, and his hands grip his own thighs too tightly, knuckles turning white.
Sokka intends to fix that.
Zuko, seemingly on the same page, cradles himself between Sokka’s knees, leaning his face close, but not moving any closer than that. Zuko is waiting for permission, each minute twitch and restless shift of his hands making his fiancé's excitement clear.
Sokka lets the silence hang between them, nearly holding his breath to fully absorb the sight of Zuko almost drooling for a taste of his dick. Once Sokka's sure the image is burned into his brain forever, and his fiancé starts to really squirm, he cups Zuko’s jaw and encourages him forward.
Zuko presses his nose to Sokka's pubic bone, inhaling deeply, and opening his mouth to pant hot, damp puffs of air against the erection brushing his face. A deep, gravely groan punches out of Zuko's chest and bleeds into Sokka's skin. He pushes the inky black strands out of Zuko's face, tucking them behind his ear, and sliding a hand under his chin so their eyes meet.
"Tui and La, Zuko," he whistles, "I don't think I'll ever get enough of this."
"You don't have to," Zuko snorts, eyes tired and face flushed rosy. "Kinda the whole point of getting married, isn't it?" Affection blooms in Sokka's chest, warmth spreading through his body in dizzying waves.
"You're stuck with me forever," Sokka crows in delight, blowing him an obnoxious kiss and pinching his cheek between two fingers. Zuko rolls his eyes, but the effect is diminished by the small smile tugging at his lips.
"Are you gonna fuck my throat or not?" Zuko tries to demand, fails, and lands somewhere between petulance and desperation. Sokka can't help but throw his head back and laugh, but not unkindly.
“Okay, okay, baby, you’re right,” he says, trying not to chuckle. “I’d hate to deprive you of what you need.” Zuko sighs in approval, apparently more interested in choking than talking.
Sokka scoots closer to the edge of his seat, ensuring he has enough mobility to buck into Zuko’s mouth, and resulting in the tip of his dick hitting his fiancé’s lips. Zuko’s eyes flutter closed at the contact before he snaps them back open, his gaze so intense that heat licks up Sokka's spine.
A strategist at heart, Sokka lets Zuko have a taste of control. If he makes Zuko wait long enough, he’ll crack and start begging. Zuko possesses enough pride not to do it right out of the gate, but he loves being coaxed into it.
Zuko knows the game they’re playing, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to the head of Sokka’s cock. He groans, presumably at the salty flavor spreading across his tongue, and greedily sucks the tip into his mouth.
The heady combination of seeing and feeling Zuko’s pretty lips wrapped around his dick burns through him. Sokka brings a hand to Zuko’s hair, gathering it up into a fist so it stays out of the way, ensuring his fiancé is free to move at his own pace.
Zuko hums his gratitude around Sokka’s cock, sending tingling vibrations through his abdomen, and ripping a wheeze from his chest. “Just like that, Zuko. Spirits, your mouth is so warm,” Sokka drawls, using his free hand to stroke his thumb around Zuko's lips, a ragged moan tumbling from him when Zuko turns his head to suck the thumb into his mouth.
He hooks his thumb behind Zuko's teeth, making his mouth open wider, Sokka's cock slipping further between his lips. He stamps down the urge to thrust into Zuko's mouth, it's not about him. This is for Zuko, and he needs to maintain his composure enough to make sure his fiancé gets exactly what he needs.
Sokka slips his thumb free, wipes the spit on Zuko’s cheek, and receives a slurred, satisfied noise in response. Zuko’s eyes drift closed, some of the tightness in his shoulders leaching away when he takes more of Sokka’s dick into his mouth.
The searing, wet heat surrounding him makes Sokka shiver, biting his lip, and exhaling harshly at the way Zuko’s mouth stretches around his cock. It’s obscene, they’ve barely started, but drool is already trying to trickle out of Zuko’s lips.
Sokka uses the hair in his hand to still Zuko’s movements, gently pulling his fiancé off of his dick, a line of saliva connecting his length with that hot, slick mouth. Sokka looks down at him and coos, "You look so pretty like this, just where you wanna be, huh, baby?" Sokka wraps a hand around himself, smacking Zuko's lips with his cock, "You need my dick, don't you? Tell me how much you love it."
Zuko's lids flutter in slow blinks, close to sinking into that easy, contented headspace. Warm astonishment coils in Sokka's gut. Zuko is barely within reach of getting what he wants, but he already looks so sweet, so pliant. Zuko clears his throat, dragging his eyes to meet Sokka's, and licks his lips before he says, "You know I do. Love it, need it, want you to make me gag on your dick until everything else goes away. Please, Sokka."
Sokka beams in pride, words like that took a while to become easy for Zuko, but after years of practice, they slide out of his mouth simple as anything. The faint flush on his right ear and face gives away the tinge of embarrassment his fiancé feels, and Sokka wants to kiss him silly.
He doesn’t, there will be plenty of time for that after he’s done pulling Zuko apart and putting him back together. Instead, he eases his grip in Zuko’s hair, his voice lowering as he says, “Perfect, that’s perfect. Go ahead, you’re doing such a good job for me.”
Zuko shudders at the praise, a stuttering gasp leaving him. He doesn’t waste any time getting Sokka’s dick back in his mouth, swallowing all the way down until he's nosing at coarse hair. Zuko hums in contentment around his cock, the vibrations making Sokka hiss. Zuko looks blissed out, eyes glossy, and hazy as he works his throat around Sokka.
Something in Sokka’s chest shakes loose at the knowledge that he’s taking care of his fiancé so well, knows just how to make him melt, that he’s the only one who can soothe Zuko’s nerves like this.
He wipes the spit at the corner of Zuko’s mouth sweetly before pushing his mouth down further, cutting off his air supply. Zuko gurgles around the intrusion in his throat, hips jerking in the air.
Sokka pulls him off just as quickly, only intending to drive Zuko wild with his need for more. It works, Zuko immediately bobbing his head back to where it had been, choking himself on Sokka’s dick with a filthy, wet noise.
Sokka groans as Zuko holds still, eyes growing watery the longer he stays in place. He’s moving his tongue as much as he can, spasming his throat around Sokka’s dick. Zuko looks up at him, eyebrows pulled together in concentration rather than stress, and Sokka groans.
When Zuko's face turns red from lack of oxygen, he pulls off, dragging harsh, heaving breaths into his lungs. His lips are shiny with spit, cock heavy between his legs, and sick possession settles in Sokka’s chest.
He’s the only person in the world who can do this to Zuko, the only one who makes him slip into that fuzzy place in his head, make him feel all sweet, wrung-out, and safe.
Zuko hardly waits to catch his breath, swallowing Sokka down to the hilt too quickly, making himself pull back and cough before he tries again. Sokka knows it's nowhere near as satisfying for Zuko when he has to set his own pace, doesn't get to hand over the reins to Sokka, and is made to fuck his own mouth.
It's a crude imitation, the movements not as smooth or precise as Sokka's would be, and it only serves to frustrate Zuko if the annoyed grunts around his cock say anything. Sokka uses his hand in Zuko's hair to drag him off of his dick, holding him mere inches away from it. Zuko is panting, the edges of his lips red from self-inflicted abuse, his eyes damp, red-rimmed, and close to shattering.
"Something the matter? Why are you still so grumpy after getting what you want?" Sokka asks, voice dripping in faux-obliviousness.
"Sokka." Zuko's voice cracks, sucking in a steadying breath and balling his fists before he continues, "Sokka, please." Sokka knows what he's asking for, even considers acquiescing since Zuko's already so worked up. He doesn't. Zuko is supposed to practice asking for what he wants.
"I need you to use your words, baby," Sokka chides gently, tone undercut by the sharp grip he has in Zuko's hair. It would be far softer if Zuko wasn’t straining against it, sticking his tongue out to try and lap at the tip of Sokka's cock. Sokka laughs, using his free hand to hold Zuko's cheek, and simpers at him, "Why don't you try again, hm?"
Zuko's hips jerk in the air again, his eyes snapping shut as a deep—simultaneously irritated and desperate—groan falls out of him. "That's literally not fair," he tries to spit, sounding more sulky than anything else, "I already told you I wanted you to fuck my mouth, and I said please." And that just won't do, Zuko wants to be put in his place, and Sokka has no interest in doing that.
Sokka raises a brow, feigning confusion, "I guess I didn't hear you. Can you repeat it for me?" That makes Zuko shudder, his dick is starting to leak at this point, and oh. That's perfect, Sokka can't believe he didn't think of it before
He waits until Zuko resigns himself to the task, his mouth opening to speak, and Sokka moves his foot. He nudges the tip of his boot behind Zuko's balls, the length of his cock brushing the velvety hide that Sokka's shoes are made of. Zuko's shoulders slump, his body briefly curling around itself with a pitchy, slurred noise before he straightens up, eyes wild, and parts his lips to try again.
"So—" He doesn't get very far with Sokka firmly placing his boot on the pillow, rough, dry friction gliding against Zuko's dick during the process.
"Careful, these are new," Sokka tuts, like Zuko isn't the one who gave them to him. "Wouldn't wanna get 'em all messy, right?" Zuko is panting, rutting against and away from the boot like he can't decide which is a better idea, and it almost looks a little brighter in the room. Satisfaction spreads through Sokka, one more push, and Zuko will play right into the palm of his hand.
He lets Zuko talk this time, just enough to really frustrate him when he's inevitably interrupted. "Sokka. Sokka. Sokka, please fuck m—" Sokka shoves three fingers into his mouth, not far enough to make Zuko gag, but deep enough to shut him up and make him sputter around the intrusion.
"Ohh," Sokka says with a blinding grin, shallowly thrusting in and out of Zuko's mouth, "This is what you wanted, huh? That's it?" Zuko tries to shake his head around the fingers in his mouth, but doesn't get very far with Sokka's hand still in his hair. Not getting anywhere else, Zuko slurs something Sokka can't make out.
Sokka pulls his fingers out, wiping the saliva on Zuko's jaw, and cocking his head to the side. “What was that, baby? Sorry, I can't understand you when you talk with your mouth full. I thought Fire Lords had manners," Sokka croons. That, and a well-timed drag of Sokka's boot against his dick, finally makes Zuko crack, a deep, pleading whine releasing from his throat before he's babbling desperately.
"Sokka, Sokka, please—fuck, oh, Agni—need you to fuck my mouth. Not your fingers, please, need your cock now. Make me gag—please," Zuko blubbers, lashes lined with unshed tears. "Sokka, I need it, need you—c'mon—" Gratified with his reaction, Sokka cuts him some slack, and finally gives Zuko what he's been asking for this whole time.
Sokka scratches along his scalp with his free hand, both of them tangling in Zuko's hair, and uses the leverage to slide home in the back of that hot throat in one sure thrust. He starts a rough, pounding rhythm, hardly giving Zuko any time to breathe or gain his bearings. Gross, slurred, choking noises are the only sounds Zuko can make, his eyes falling closed as he adjusts to the familiar intrusion.
"There you go, baby—fuck, that's it," Sokka murmurs, watching the way Zuko's mouth stretches around his cock. It's the prettiest thing he's ever seen, heat curling in his pelvis, twisting sharper each time Zuko's nose meets his pubic bone. His mouth is always so hot, Sokka feels like he's slowly melting into a puddle, waves of fire threatening to pull him in and under.
"So perfect for me, Zuko, you're doing such a good job, sitting all pretty, and taking it," Sokka gasps, biting off his own wrecked, stuttering moans. “So pretty, so warm. All of your holes were made just for me, huh?”
It’s not a real question, entirely rhetorical in the way Sokka already knows Zuko will be his, and only his, for the rest of their lives.
Zuko still tries to nod, only serving to move Sokka’s dick farther into his throat, gagging only slightly, but it’s enough to make the sound crawl under Sokka’s skin and stay there. He wants to pull at that thread until it unwinds completely.
“Oh, baby,” Sokka simpers, bringing a hand down to swipe his thumb along the protrusion of Zuko’s cheek. “If only the rest of the council could see how much you love Water Tribe cock. Maybe they’d finally get why you’re so passionate about keeping peace.”
He doesn’t mean it. Sokka would never let anyone see his fiancé like this, the drool and sweat-soaked man in front of him is a sight no one other than himself is privileged enough to partake in. But it works to make Zuko that much hotter, keyed up, and close to delirious.
Zuko jerks into the shoe between his legs, his leaking dick sliding against it, staining the fabric in dark, slick lines. The tight seal around Sokka's cock is so warm it almost burns, the longer his dick stays in Zuko's mouth, the hotter it gets. It's damn near torture to maintain his composure, to remember this has nothing to do with his own pleasure, and everything to do with Zuko's.
Yet, when he's faced with Zuko, fucked out, drooling, eyes watery, and lips stretched obscenely wide around his cock, it's really not that hard after all. Sokka can feel the edges of an orgasm creeping around him, every wet, loud drag of his dick in and out of Zuko's scoring mouth inching him closer and closer to snapping.
Eager to prolong it, Sokka pulls Zuko off of his cock, and holds him just far enough away that it probably drives his fiancé wild. Right in front of his face, but just out of reach. True to his thoughts, Zuko frowns at him, biting his lower lip and practically begging for more with his eyes.
"Sokka," he rasps, "What gives? 'm not done yet." Zuko's voice is raw, and strained, each word curling into Sokka's gut and spreading something molten through his veins.
"Sorry, sorry," Sokka breathes around a smirk, "I know you're not done, of course not, you still haven't gotten what you wanted, hm?" Sokka strokes his thumb against Zuko's plush lips, slipping inside and pressing into his tongue. Zuko's still glaring, but he sucks the digit into his mouth, rolling it around, and savoring the taste of Sokka's skin with an unbidden groan. "Didn't wanna come so soon and ruin all your fun, baby."
Zuko scoffs around his thumb, spitting it out to fix Sokka with an intense stare. "I don't care, just come down my throat," he says, each word slowly enunciated like Sokka's having a hard time understanding him. Which is far from the case, but Sokka allows it, he loves the mouth his fiance has, whether his lips are split around a cock or hissing testy demands.
"If you insist," Sokka coos sweetly, shoving Zuko's head onto his dick with no preamble, The pace is harder, more brutal this time, and the columns of fire behind him rise higher, the suction around his cock growing hotter. Sokka's head feels fuzzy with every debauched, squelching noise his onslaught on Zuko's mouth makes, the view in front of him almost too much to for him to handle.
Zuko's skin glows, pretty flickers of bright color swirling and changing with each passing second. His lips are red, slick with spit, and those golden yellow eyes spear right through Sokka, silently begging for more. Sokka closes his eyes, tips his head back, and it's somehow worse. Every sound gets amplified, the heat around his cock skyrocketing in intensity.
His hips stutter into something frantic, harsh, and unrelenting. Sokka's eyes snap back to Zuko, unable to help himself, and he moans, loud and pitchy. The tears along Zuko's lash-line have finally spilled over, glistening tracks sliding across his cheeks as he inhales short, sharp breaths into his nose. Each exhale billows light smoke into the air, a sure-fire sign that Zuko's getting close.
Zuko takes his hands from his own thighs and grips onto Sokka's, nails digging in enough to make tingling pangs rip through him. Sokka can feel his abs clench and release, chasing the peak of pleasure that's just out of reach, but so close he can almost taste it. He drives his cock in and out of Zuko's mouth faster, more erratically, and less coordinated than he'd like.
"Oh, baby," he slurs, mouth thick with his own saliva, "So pretty, so sweet for me. Want me—hnng, fuck, Zuko—want me to come so deep in your throat you can't even swallow? Make you feel better?" Sokka doesn't expect much of an answer, of course he does. This is everything Zuko wants, mindless pleasure and being forced to take, take, take.
Zuko babbles incoherent noises around his cock, rutting harder into Sokka's boot, looking wild, and close to coming himself. Each word of praise that falls from Sokka's lips must twist sharply inside of Zuko, the pillars of flame bursting behind him, making him feel impossibly warmer. The coil inside of Sokka winds tighter, the corners of his eyes grow blurry, and he doesn't even try to stop the litany of compliments or echoing groans that tumble from his lips.
Sokka pumps his cock into that searing heat, bumping the back of Zuko's throat each time he bottoms out, pleasure licking up his spine harshly with every irregular movement. Zuko's eyes close, finally sated, deep satisfaction clear on his face, making his brows smooth. That's all the signal Sokka needs to roll his hips in earnest, Zuko's needs met and his own taking priority.
The filthy, slapping sounds of his balls hitting Zuko's chin in combination with the gurgling, choked vibrations against his cock send him hurdling to the edge. Sokka shoves Zuko's head all the way down, making his fiancé gag, sputtering moans muffled by the dick in his mouth. Sokka is so close, white-hot ecstasy burning behind his lids as he chases his climax in short, rough thrusts.
The feeling in his pelvis builds quickly with every snap of his hips, Zuko's nails digging painfully into his thighs. "Spirits, Zuko—fuck—you feel so good, so hot, gonna come. You're gonna take every drop, right, baby?" Sokka rambles, cupping the side of Zuko's face reverently. Zuko shudders, more tears dripping from his eyes, and the insistent, pleading whine he makes around Sokka's cock does him in.
"Baby, baby, coming—gonna come—" Sokka gasps, holding Zuko in place as the coil inside him snaps, and he spills down his throat in mind-numbing waves. Sokka releases a loud, stuttering whine as Zuko constricts around him, milking his cock for every bit of cum that he can. Fire burns inside of him, crashing through him and dragging him under. He can hear the definitive sound of the flames behind him exploding.
Pleasure laps at Sokka's core, slowly ebbing away from scoring to something warm, his mind clearing, and his focus returning to Zuko. Sokka drags him off of his dick, taking extreme gratification from the way Zuko sucks him clean on his up. Sokka sends him a shaky smile, his grip in Zuko's hair releasing so he can card unsteady fingers through it.
"You're so good for me, took me so well, and didn't even waste any of it," Sokka crows, pride welling in his chest. Zuko nods fervently, turning his head to press a sloppy kiss to Sokka's palm. "You wanna come, too, don't you?" he asks, tone laden with affection.
"Yes, please," Zuko rasps, voice raw. He must take that as a sign to finish on Sokka's boot, hips moving against it in quick, persistent jerks. Sokka will have none of it, Zuko deserves far better and a more intimate of a touch than that.
"Uh-uh," Sokka tuts, making Zuko halt his ministrations immediately, with a confused, hurt look. "C'mere, get in my lap. I think the boots have had enough, don't you?" Sokka lowers his voice, close to whispering when he says, "Besides, how else am I supposed to lick your cum up if it's all over my shoes?"
Zuko's lips split in a pleased smile. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Sounds good, you're right," Zuko breathes before clambering into his lap, back pressed against Sokka's chest, and his legs falling to each side of his thighs. He settles with an entirely unsubtle grind against Sokka's cock, making him hiss and pinch Zuko's side lightly in retaliation.
"Be nice," he admonishes, no real heat behind it. Zuko whines impatiently, shifting his hips from side to side as if to say then get on with it. Sokka chuckles, kissing the back of Zuko's neck. "Alright, alright, we're getting there, your highness." He takes his time adjusting himself, wanting to savor Zuko's release, and knowing it won't require more than a few strokes to get his fiancé there.
Sokka reaches his arms around, bringing a hand to Zuko's cock in a loose grip, and one to his mouth, sliding two fingers between his lips. Zuko sucks them with a grateful groan, and judging by the clog in his throat, the waterworks are far from over. "Zuko," Sokka whispers, "You're gonna kill me if you keep crying like that."
It only works to incentivize Zuko, slurring, hiccuping gasps barely muffled by Sokka's fingers. It doesn't matter that he's playing it up, it still eats through Sokka like nothing else. Sokka rubs his fingers harshly against his tongue, spit leaking out of Zuko's mouth and onto his wrist. Zuko's body is a hot, taut line on his lap, his thighs twitching as Sokka ever so slowly drags his hand up and down his weeping dick.
"Looks like this is crying for me, too, baby. Can't help yourself when you get a couple fingers in your mouth, huh?" Sokka tries for steady, fails, only managing to sound just as breathy and desperate as Zuko. He gets a drawn-out whine of agreement in response, Zuko's hips trying to fuck into the circle Sokka's hand makes around him.
"I know, I know. You're almost there, doing so good for me," Sokka murmurs, granting Zuko mercy and tightening his grip on his dick. It punches a wrecked, wet sound from Zuko's chest, his body trying to curl in on itself. Sokka uses his fingers in Zuko's mouth to guide him back to his chest, keeping him there, unable to move or thrash away from the pleasure if he wants it to continue.
"Faster," Zuko demands around his fingers in a slurred, raspy voice. Sokka chuckles, but listens, quickening his pace, the slick sounds between Zuko's legs growing in volume.
"You're using your words so well, I think you deserve a reward, don't you?" Sokka asks, making Zuko nod as much as he’s able to. Sokka stops teasing Zuko, starts flicking his wrist on the upstroke in the way he knows his fiancé loves. Zuko tenses against him, scrabbling his hands for purchase against any part of Sokka's skin within reach.
"Go ahead, baby, come all over my hand," Sokka urges, maintaining a quick, unyielding rhythm that has Zuko close to wailing. If he could see, Sokka is sure there would be thick lines of tears streaming down Zuko's face. Sokka leans into the nape of his neck, lapping insistent licks, nips, and kisses against it before Zuko snaps, and comes undone in his hand. A sharp, breathless noise wheezes out of Zuko, trembling in his lap as he paints himself and Sokka's hand in thick, white stripes.
Sokka works him through it, stroking Zuko's cock, and using his cum as lube to ease the way. Sokka can smell smoke as Zuko shakes against him, whining in the back of his throat, and panting as he comes down. Sokka doesn't stop when his cock starts to soften, keeps the filthy pace until Zuko's cries rise in pitch, and he starts thrashing against the touch, desperately trying to get away from the overstimulation.
"Hurts," Zuko slurs insistently, but makes no real move to extract himself. He's strong enough to, and would if he wanted to, but he doesn't.
"Really? Because I think you can give me one more. Wanna try?" Sokka coos, punctuating his question by clamping his teeth around the side of Zuko's neck. Zuko fucking loses it, sobbing around Sokka's fingers, pressing into the maddening rhythm against his dick. It's so slick, so wet, and so easy for Sokka to coax enough blood back to Zuko's cock for him to be able to tug it roughly. "That's it, baby, just like that."
Zuko shivers, hiccuping noises slipping around Sokka's fingers, and hanging in the air around them. Sokka drinks each sound like it's water, pulls as many heaving sobs from Zuko as he can, delighting in the way his fiancé melts into his hands. Sokka sucks the side of his neck insistently, rolling the skin between his teeth, dragging more wrecked moans from Zuko's stuffed mouth.
For all his crying and blubbering, Zuko doesn't make a sound when he comes for the second time. He just gets tense, hips stuttering, cock dribbling barely any cum while he crumbles apart in Sokka's hands. He eases his hold around Zuko, still pumping his dick, but much sweeter, just enough to help him through his orgasm. When he's done, Zuko slumps against his chest, panting and growing lax.
True to his word, Sokka brings his cum-stained hand to his mouth, licking it clean with a satisfied groan. It's a little salty, a touch bitter, but so Zuko that he savors the taste. "Zuko, baby, you did such a good job, felt so good, taste amazing for me. Feel better now?" Sokka asks gently, pressing lingering kisses to Zuko's hair.
"Mhm, thank you, Sokka. Love you," Zuko sighs, voice raw from misuse. Sokka wipes his hands on his robes, pulling Zuko closer to him, hugging him tightly.
"It was my pleasure," Sokka chuckles, wagging his eyebrows. Zuko can't see them, but knows his fiancé well enough to snicker, slapping a hand lightly against Sokka's arm. "I love you too, your highness," Sokka whispers into his hair, biting off a giddy grin.
Zuko groans, probably rolls his eyes, and huffs, "That's not sexy anymore, knock it off." Sokka can hear the fond smile in his voice and squeezes Zuko tighter.
"I'm so sorry, I meant no disrespect, great and mighty Fire Lord Zuko. Please, forgive me." Sokka can't keep the amusement out of his voice, affection bubbling in his chest when Zuko laughs and bats at his arm again.
"Enough," Zuko croaks exasperatedly, "Or my next decree will be that all Fire Ambassadors from the Southern Water Tribe named Sokka aren't allowed to share my chambers anymore."
Sokka scoffs in mock offense, "You wouldn't dare."
"I would," Zuko declares haughtily, twisting himself in a jumble of limbs until he's facing Sokka, sliding his knees to the back of the throne. Zuko smirks before he captures Sokka's lips in a tender kiss. Zuko licks at the seam of his lips until he's granted entry, their tongue sliding together, causing both of them to groan in tandem.
When they separate for a breath, Sokka cups his face and licks the drying tear tracks on Zuko's cheeks, pressing sloppy kisses in between each one. Zuko melts into it, long since accustomed to Sokka's post-sex need to shower him in affection. "You're so gross," Zuko chuckles.
"You love it," Sokka croons, diving in to steal Zuko's lips in a wet, searing kiss. Sokka can taste the salt on his tongue, the deep smokiness from Zuko's, and smiles into their mouths.
Zuko is boneless in his lap, not a single sign of the stress and tension he'd been holding during the meeting left. Pride blooms in his chest, wrapping around Sokka's heart and constricting, he did that. He's the reason Zuko's grinning between kisses, pleasantly warm, and relaxed.
"Yeah, I do."