Zuko couldn't quite believe that Sokka had had the gall to dress up as the Fire Lord for Aang's Spirit's Eve party—and yet, he really wouldn't have expected anything less from the Water Tribe warrior. At least he hadn't dressed up as a giant Momo—though he thought Sokka would have pulled it off just as well as Aang had managed. Katara had looked amazing as the Painted Lady—a character with quite a tale behind her and one Zuko had been amazed to hear. The fact that Toph had shown up dressed was all they could have expected from the tiny Earthbender.

But Sokka…Zuko doubted he could look unattractive in anything, but he couldn't get over how unabashedly sexy he looked draped in crimson and scarlet robes—how the golden trim made his light brown skin glow, how the rich reds made his cerulean eyes so sharp and blue that Zuko couldn't look at him without fighting back the urge to…

"So where are we going?" Sokka asked, his voice interrupting Zuko's thoughts with unbelievably good timing. Zuko refused to look back at him. Not only could he not risk losing himself in those intense eyes, but then it would also be very difficult to hide the blush making his own pale skin flush its own shade of red.

"My rooms." Zuko managed to force the words out without allowing his voice to crack.

"Rea-lly?" Sokka drew out the word, making it sound like he suspected the young Fire Lord of impossibly dirty things. Which warned Zuko that he was letting his emotions too close to the surface if that was the first thing that popped into his head (more than hopefully). "What are we going to do there?"

"Change." Zuko snapped. Behind him he could practically hear Sokka slumping as he shambled along behind his older friend. Zuko hated making the boy unhappy, but, really, Sokka's tone was too close to what Zuko wanted to hear and he couldn't afford that. Sokka was his friend. He was his comrade, his companion, his ally and his brother-in-arms. He couldn't afford to want Sokka to be anything more than that. It was obvious that Sokka didn't feel that way and Zuko would rather swallow his desire forever than loose the friendship of the boy who had swiftly become the most important person in his life—outside of his uncle.

"Fine." Sokka mumbled. "I was just wondering. No need to go all Jerkbender on my ass."

A smile tugged at Zuko's lips. He should have known that simply snapping at the boy wouldn't do anything more than momentarily dampen his spirits. Sokka was too tough for that—too enthusiastic, too strong, too passionate for the simple things that seemed to form the foundation of his entire life. No moment was too small that Sokka couldn't find something in it that wasn't amazing. At first Zuko couldn't imagine how Sokka could live the way he did—in a constant state of wonder, it seemed, for the world crumbling into chaos around him. It seemed exhausting to a bitter, jaded, angry prince of the Fire Nation.

But it wasn't long before Zuko had trouble imagining how he had lived without that feeling. Seeing the world through Sokka's eyes had made things so much easier to bear. In all reality, his uncle had been saying the same thing for years, but it was…refreshing…hearing it from someone his own age who believed it so innately. Sure, Aang was very similar in that respect, but seriously—he was the Avatar and an Air Nomad to boot. He was all but hardwired to think like that. Sokka, however, had spent his entire life watching his family be kidnapped, murdered, or sail off to war and still found a place in his heart capable of finding joy in the way his boomerang flew, or how high a fish jumped, or how wide that river was or how soft those curtains were or how his sword was just too incredibly awesome for words. He found the time for pointless fun, aimless adventures and stupid jokes that were only funny because it was Sokka who told them. He still had the ability to take his own humiliations in stride, was more than willing to play the fool without any shame and laughed at himself with more ease and confidence than anyone Zuko knew.

In short, Zuko was in love with the skinny Water Tribe boy. Was in love with a person who could never know—would never know—but Zuko was willing to sacrifice that in exchange for the friendship that Sokka gave so willingly and effortlessly. And so he smiled as they walked the rest of the way to his chambers in silence, allowing himself at least the peaceful contentment of being with a friend.

O0O

Sokka strolled after Zuko (he had given up on his slumping shamble since Zuko's snappiness hadn't actually hurt his feelings and all it did was make his back hurt under the damn heavy shoulder things that made the robes he was wearing look all flashy and over the top) as he led him through the halls of the Fire Nation palace. Sokka didn't bother to look around. He'd seen it all before. Three months in the Fire Nation hadn't made the place any more interesting. Sure, there were plenty of things to see and do—when you weren't quietly being watched from every corner by "hidden" guards. Hidden from everyone else, maybe, but not from a Water Tribe hunter. In any case, the fun had worn off pretty quickly after Zuko had told him in no uncertain terms that playing hide-and-go-seek with military-trained royal guards was a no-no. Especially when the royal guards didn't know they were playing.

"Unless you want it to turn into a game of hide-and-explode." Zuko had told him dryly the fourth time Sokka had been delivered to his office in shackles by guards that "suspected" him of being a spy, but really just thought he was being irritating. "Then you're on the right track."

But, really, how else was Sokka supposed to keep his hunting skills honed inside a palace?

Sokka decided to let the conversation lag as they walked through the palace. He rather enjoyed these moments, anyway—the ones where he got to stare at Zuko from behind without any worry of the older boy catching him. Besides, it was uncanny walking behind someone in his armor. Not that he'd never seen another man in wolf armor before—that wasn't the point. The point was, that was his armor and Zuko was wearing it.

And he could only hope that his ass looked that hot in the outfit…

He was also very aware of the face that he was wearing Zuko's Fire Lord robes. Sokka smirked to himself and wriggled slightly inside the surprisingly comfortable attire. Plus, he wasn't wearing any under—

"Stop that." Zuko snapped, once again not looking behind him but apparently fully aware of everything Sokka did. Sokka pouted and stopped his wiggling. Normally he loved driving Zuko crazy. The guy had a temper that was delightful to see when aroused. Terrifying, but delightful. His current friendly-hair made the sight even more amusing because when it was down during one of his temperamental moments, it bristled with the pure energy of Zuko's anger. He looked like a boarcupine. Never mind that Zuko denied the fact. Sokka held to the belief that his painting had been accurate. And then there were his eyes, flashing gold against his pale skin. And the scarred tissue around his left eye only deepened that impossibly golden hue, making them glow with that inner fire that only Zuko possessed. Sure, there were plenty of other Firebenders, but only Zuko had that particular spark about him. The only other person Sokka had met with an inner light that came even close was Zuko's uncle. And even then, there was something surrounding Zuko that was purely…Zuko.

Still, the boy seemed particularly churlish tonight. Sokka knew he hadn't really wanted to go to the party, even after Sokka has invited him himself—was grateful that he showed up at all—but, really, he had been there for less than fifteen minutes. And being the Fire Lord and all, Sokka figured he'd have to get used to crowds sooner or later. Though, it was probably difficult since the last three years of his life had been on a boat with a skeleton crew in some of the most out-of-the-way places in the world. And the last few months had been in the company of only a handful of people—kids, really. He had seemed to enjoy being in a group of people so close to his own age, even if they had been wary and distrustful of him at first (except for Toph, who could have cared less about his past even after he burned her feet), but it certainly wouldn't have made mingling with large crowds any easier. No, now that Sokka thought of it, Zuko was probably about as used to large crowds as Sokka was to silence. Which, was to say, not at all.

The fact that he showed up was even more touching now that Sokka thought about it. He had even put some consideration into his costume…and, really, how flattering was it that the Fire Lord went as a Water Tribe warrior? And not just any Water Tribe warrior, but as Sokka. There really wasn't a much bigger compliment than that, especially after all those times Zuko had spat the word "peasant" at him like a curse. Sokka didn't care about things like that, but he knew Zuko did. Maybe this was Zuko's way of apologizing—although the guy was really into big, heartfelt apologies now that he wasn't trying to save face by being a dick.

Or maybe Zuko had just wanted to get into Sokka's pants. That thought—and the image that accompanied it—made Sokka grin. He was rather relieved that Zuko wasn't looking at him or he'd have to probably explain that…and half-sorry that he wouldn't have the chance. But that would have just been awkward trying to explain to his now-best friend that he was half in love with him and had been since their little adventure at Boiling Rock.

Yeah. Awkward. He'd rather be friends for life—with no benefits attached or expected—than lose it all because he was horny. Zuko was the first boy he had ever spent time with that was his own age—not since he was a little boy, anyway. Even when he was chasing their little rag-tag gang around the world, Sokka had felt a certain kinship with the Prince. Maybe it was because he really was the only kid his age that he had any contact with at all outside of Suki and her Kyoshi warriors, Yue and the Northern Water Tribe and the odd Earth Kingdom teen here and there. Certainly the only male his own age that he ever had regular contact with—crazy as that contact may have been. Maybe it was because, as much as Sokka hated being pursued around the world by a psycho pyromaniac (though meeting his sister for the first time sure put that into perspective), he actually understood Zuko in a way the Prince could probably never have imagined.

He hadn't known Zuko's reasons for hunting them around the world, not at first. What he had known was that only with someone with everything to gain and even more to lose would follow the chosen prize with that sort of tenacity. Sokka had seen it in the hunters of his tribe when he was just a small boy, during a particularly harsh winter when food was so scarce that the hunters would stay out for weeks searching for meat. They refused to return empty-handed and because of that desperate determination, many didn't return at all. Sokka had experienced it himself. As the last male member of his tribe over the age of ten, he had been responsible for keeping the village supplied with meat. Oh, they had fish, of course—the kids and the older women could see to that with the ease of long practice. But what kept the village alive was the red, blubbery meat that only large prey could provide—especially tiger-seal. And Sokka was the only one who had both the experience and the strength and stamina to complete a tiger-seal hunt. He had spent his fare share of time out on the ice, alone, almost frozen to death because he knew that if he didn't return with fresh meat, everyone would starve. So he had pursued his prey for miles and miles and days and days without any thought of turning back. It was a trait he had respected in his elders and one that he had respected in his former enemy, though grudgingly at first.

Sokka admired Zuko in a way that he would probably never have the guts to admit. He would also probably never admit that Zuko's moments of soul-crushing self-doubt broke Sokka's heart and made him want to beat former Looser Lord Ozai and Crazy-Ass Azula into a couple of whimpering puddles of goo.

Zuko had admitted to Sokka once, just after his coronation, that he wanted to find his mother, who he hoped was still alive in exile somewhere. However, that desire had yet to come to fruition since becoming Fire Lord because Zuko—strong and determined as he was—didn't have the confidence in himself to believe he had ability enough to be both son and leader. That he thought he had to choose between one or the other. Then, without a moment's pause, he had sacrificed the thing he wanted more than anything (now that his father's acceptance was out the window since he was obviously a crazy, psychopathic megalomaniac) for what he considered to be the greater good. Sokka thought that Zuko probably didn't even realize how much strength and confidence it had actually taken. Or how much Sokka admired that quiet determination that Zuko displayed, day-in and day-out, while trying to piece together a world his father had tried so hard to burn to the ground. And if all Sokka could offer was his friendship, unassumingly and unquestioningly, then he would do it without expecting anything in return. It was the least the boy deserved.

It was certainly the very least Sokka could offer the young man who had quickly become one of the most important people in his life. All Zuko seemed to want from him was his company and his conversation and Sokka was happy and willing to give it.

Even if he did have the desire to ravish the Fire Lord from time to time, but he kept that to himself.

Sokka's grin broadened and he returned to admiring Zuko's ass through the wonderfully form-fitting Water Tribe pants. He was a little bummed that he couldn't spend more time staring at Zuko's face, however. The wolf's jaw helmet cast the teen's face into shadow, but his golden eyes seemed to glow even more intensely—as if they were making up for the lost light.

The right side of Zuko's face, undamaged by scar tissue, was probably more expressive than the older boy realized. Sokka loved watching Zuko whenever he could. When he wasn't aware he was being watched—like when he thought he was alone in his office, or when he had trained with Aang or sparred with Sokka—every thought and emotion flitted across his face. At first it was difficult to look at Zuko and not see the permanent scowl that defined his left eye. The burn scars pulling at his eye lid made him look like he was always pissed at something—which, to be fair, was more often true than not. But then Sokka began to look passed the scars and the scowl. His left eye still shone with that same sunlit intensity that his right eye did, but on the occasions when Zuko stood just right, and all Sokka could see was the undamaged side of his face, then the prince was positively breathtaking.

After a while Sokka hardly saw the scarred face anymore and simply saw the handsome young man that he really was—especially those eyes.

Well, maybe he also enjoyed paying special attention to the wonderful sculpture of Zuko's abs and arms when he was training. He looked so scrawny when he was dressed, but beneath that clothing he was just plain hot. What a tease.

After a few minutes, Sokka recognized what part of the palace they were in and knew they were near Zuko's rooms. And then it occurred to him…

"Wait, I have nothing to change into." Sokka pointed out. Zuko glanced over his shoulder—to the right, giving Sokka a clear look into the wide golden eye undamaged by pain. He was a bit surprised to see the warm happiness glowing there, as if Zuko was having a wonderful time just walking silently through the halls with his friend.

Well, that would make two of us, then. Sokka mused silently.

"You can just change into your armor. Or you can borrow something of mine. It's not like I don't know where you live. I'll just have you arrested if you don't bring back my pants."

Sokka grinned.

"Zuko—was that a joke?"

"No." Zuko turned away so Sokka couldn't see his face anymore. "I'll want my pants back."

Sokka paused in the middle of the hall, torn between thinking that Zuko was joking or was actually serious and was way too concerned about his pants…and totally oblivious to the smug smile sliding across the Firebender's face as he the ate up the remaining distance to his rooms.