AN: Written for Tokka Week 2011. I left off the first prompt because my response sucks and it's out of chronological order.

Toph liked Sokka. There were the superficial things: he had a lovely, deep voice that made her skin tingle; when she held onto his arms, she felt obvious, strong muscles; he could burp almost as loud as her.

And then there was the important stuff. He never told her to try and make peace with the anger she felt at her parents; he just sat still and listened when she talked about them without a drop of judgment. He was the only one, in all of Team Avatar, to understand how much she didn't care about things like Nation or spirits or any of that.

And, when they were alone, she could ask him any question and get a true answer.

Toph liked Suki. Her feelings for Sokka were one part of her, her affection for Suki another. They never interfered. No matter how jealous or angry or just plain tired she felt when Suki touched Sokka in a million little ways, or how much she wanted to die when she saw them doing things behind bushes that Aang and Katara would faint to think of—she liked Suki. Even though Suki couldn't tell a decent joke or appreciate a good armpit fart, she made Sokka happy, she was strong and confident, and she was a reliable back for Toph to set hers against in a fight. And she made good dumplings.

So Toph didn't care that Sokka loved Suki. She had buried the part of her that thought it hurt and never let it speak. But she was getting older now, noticing other boys the way she noticed everything about Sokka. Oh, not in the same ways and not as much. Nobody she met could guide her without making her feel weak; nobody she met had the same timbre to his voice. But they were strong, and some of them were earthbenders, and some of them tried to kiss her. And she wanted to let them, but… well, kissing was not part of a young noble lady's education, nor did it have a place in her earthbending life.

At first, Toph thought to ask Katara, but Katara would want to talk about feelings, and Toph wanted to talk about her feelings about as often as she wanted to wear a dress—not never, but very rarely, and only in cases where she was sure no one would comment on it.

Which left Sokka. (Aang and Zuko never entered her mind. Though she cared for Aang, she did not confide in him, and as for Zuko… he was so stupid about anything related to the heart and kissing. Toph half-thought Mai only stayed with him because she thought he was too pathetic to dump.)

Finding time to speak with Sokka was not very hard. Zuko had to remain in the Fire Nation, trying to bring his nobles to heel, but the rest of the group had stayed together. They split up more often, but they always returned to each other, even if it took a few months. Right now, Aang was off doing some sort of Avatar thing, and Katara was with him, so it was just Toph, Suki, and Sokka. Suki was sleeping—pregnancy took it out of her—and Sokka was off hunting. So Toph, after checking that Suki was safe, went off to find Sokka.

He was fishing in a stream; when he heard her coming, he didn't even look up, just scooted over to make some room on his rock. "Hey," said Sokka.

"Hey," said Toph. She swung her legs, unsure how to continue. She knew Sokka wouldn't laugh at anything he had to say. But it was still embarrassing and difficult to get going.

Sokka crossed his legs. She knew by the rustle of cloth, and she was half-tempted to press against him to see exactly what he was doing and get some idea of his expression. But those things were no longer like breathing now that he was married; even the slightest touch felt like she was impinging on territory that had been marked out by someone else, a betrayal of the trust and friendship Suki had always shown her. "Is something wrong?" Sokka asked finally.

Toph curled her toes up against the soles of her feet. "…No." Sokka didn't reply; he knew she was thinking. She shook her head at her own foolishness and just let the words come instead of trying to dress them up. "What's it like?" She felt Sokka's eyes on her—she always knew when someone was looking at her, the way she knew the time of day by the temperature—and shrugged, flexing and unflexing her toes. "You know. All that… stuff." A blush came into her cheeks, but she ignored it.

Sokka shifted; she wondered if he was blushing back, or if he was just considering the best way to answer. He drummed his fingers on his fishing reel and let out a slow breath, the way he always did when she asked him something tricky. Then he shrugged: though she couldn't see it, she recognized the noise his shirt made as his shoulders raised and rubbed against his necklace. "It's—it's really good. The best thing." He tapped his bare heel against the rock. Toph saw it like three tiny sunbursts. "Toph, I really don't think you should ask me about this."

Toph tilted her head, her brows coming together. Sokka had never said that to her before; she wasn't sure if she should be hurt. But something about the tension of his body said he wasn't done speaking, so she stayed still and didn't feel anything.

"It's not because I care about—telling you," said Sokka after a long, drawn-out sigh. "I don't. It's just… it's really different for girls, and—well, whatever Suki says, I don't think I'm good at it, and I definitely don't know what it's like."

Toph's ears heated up; she pressed her hands against them. She knew the basics of sex—there was no way you could spend time among the rabble of a population and not learn about it. (Commoners, if you asked Toph, were more sensible about the whole thing, but that was an entirely different conversation.) "I'm not that far yet. I just…" She broke off. The thought of saying the word kiss in front of Sokka was still embarrassing no matter how carefully she held her feelings in check around him.

Sokka shifted again. At least it was just as awkward for him. At least she knew he wouldn't ever bring it up again—when they talked in private, it stayed private. "It's not as complicated as everybody makes it sound, you know." He paused. "I mean, it never gets easy—I've been with Suki for what feels like forever now, and I still think she's going to laugh at me every time I try to kiss her. But it's just… it's kissing." He paused again, fidgeting, and she felt him look at her once more. "Do you—"

Toph pressed her feet flat against the rock, for comfort. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about with him—but it was still as easy as breathing because that was how they were. "I don't like anybody." She tossed her head and tried to look like she didn't care, even though she knew he'd see right through it. "I just figured I'd ask somebody who knew in case—in case it came up."

Sokka let out a deep breath. After a moment, his arm came around her shoulders in a rough hug. "Yeah, you do that. And if anybody hurts you, make sure you leave a piece of them for me."

Toph realized something sharp and painful, like metal grating on stone, and she put her arms around him as tight as they would go. He rested his arm around her again and didn't say anything, and she was glad of it, because she didn't want to explain what she had thought of, what he doubtless already knew.

If she kissed anyone else, this would change. She would either come to care for the person she kissed—or she would have to act like she did. And she couldn't take the thought. She couldn't articulate how much her friendship with Sokka mattered to her—how important it was that things never, never changed between them—but that didn't matter. She felt it.