Authors note: First and foremost, I do not own these characters, nor the general story line I am going off. Secondly, if spanking bothers you, stop reading now. Third, this story takes place when the Gaang goes to the beach house, but for my own purposes I have decided that Hakoda tags along with them.
Hakoda looked at the two teens standing in front of him, anger and disappointment lacing his features. Sokka shuffled nervously under his father's stern gaze, but Zuko stood completely still, eyes trained on Hakoda's face. A tense silence settled over the room inside the beach house; none of them seemed to want to break it.
Sokka knew from past experience that his dad was trying to calm himself and figure out what he wanted to say before opening his mouth, but the seemingly endless wait was torture. He just wanted the whole ordeal over with. Zuko, on the other hand, was used to the silence. His father had always said very little when Zuko was in trouble, preferring to let his actions do the talking. If he did say anything it was usually about how he was a failure, or weak, or a disgrace to the royal family, and so over time Zuko had grown to prefer the silence. He had a feeling, though, that Hakoda would be different.
"I'm disappointed in you," Hakoda said finally. "Both of you. You knew how dangerous what you were doing was, but you went out and did it anyway. If anyone had figured out your identities, you could have led them straight back here – or they could have captured you, then and there. As it was you made people suspicious. Now we have to find somewhere else to go." Sokka hung his head at his father's words. He knew he was right, but him and Zuko had just wanted to get away for a bit.
"No." At Zuko's words, Sokka looked up in surprise. Hakoda's eyes narrowed. Zuko swallowed and quickly stammered, "I mean, you're right; what we did was extremely foolish. But we don't need to leave. This house is our best place to be right now, and even if people are suspicious, they'll never even consider looking in to the Fire Lord's own beach house. We're safe here."
After a few minutes of silence Hakoda said, "Fine. We'll stay – for a bit. But you two are still in serious trouble." Both boys nodded their heads, looking properly ashamed. Hakoda sighed and rubbed his face, then turned towards his son. "Bare yourself and bend over the desk." Sokka's face flamed red in embarrassment at the thought of lowering his pants in front of Zuko, but he knew better than to argue with his father when he used that tone of voice. Failing to follow orders would only lead to further punishment, which Sokka was desperate to avoid.
He wanted to cry, but knew he had to be brave. He was a warrior, and even though his father was about to punish him like a child, he refused to behave as one. He walked over to the desk and quickly pulled down his pants and the thin cotton shorts he wore underneath them, bending over as he did so. Hakoda took off his belt and walked over to his son, coming to a rest near his left hip.
"Do you understand why you're getting this spanking, Sokka?"
"Yes, sir." Sokka's voice remained steady as he answered, and Hakoda was proud of him for accepting his punishment. As a child, Sokka had often fought against his spankings, trying to get away or talk his way out of them. Most of the time he had only succeeded in earning himself a harsher punishment, but he had always been stubborn and unwilling to submit. Though Hakoda loved that about him in just about any other situation, he was relieved that he didn't have to fight his son now.
Raising the belt high in the air, he brought it down with a hard thwack across his son's bare backside. Sokka made a small noise but remained still, and Hakoda quickly fell into rhythm. Swat after swat fell across Sokka's butt and upper thighs, and Hakoda paid particular attention to his sit spot, making sure that his son would remember this for awhile. Partially through the spanking Sokka began to cry, unable to hold back his tears, though he made no attempt to move away from the smacks. When his butt was bright red and Hakoda felt him sufficiently punished, he set the belt down on the desk and began rubbing Sokka's back.
Sokka stood and faced his father, unabashedly crying. He apologized for putting them in danger, and was forgiven. As soon as Hakoda had said the words, Sokka had begun rubbing his butt vigorously, as though trying to erase the sting. He pulled his clothing back on and stood there, wondering if he should leave or not.
Zuko, who had been standing the room the whole time, was incredibly uncomfortable. Watching Sokka get spanked had been terrible, and he had a feeling that he was next. Sure enough, Hakoda turned to Sokka and told him to go to where Zuko was standing; then he turned to Zuko and quietly asked him to walk forward. Zuko did as he was asked and approached the desk with growing trepidation.
"Have you ever been spanked before, Zuko?" Zuko nearly laughed at the question, then remembered that Hakoda knew nothing about his childhood, growing up with the Fire Lord as his father. Nor did any of the rest of the gang. None of them had any idea just how brutal the man could be. So he simply nodded and responded, "Yes, sir." Hakoda nodded as well and asked Zuko to lower his pants and underwear and bend over the desk. He quickly obeyed, and once he was in position the spanking started almost immediately.
Hakoda punished him exactly as he had his son, striking not just his bottom but also his upper thighs, making sure to hit his sit spot often. Zuko's butt turned pink much faster than Sokka's had, but he didn't make a sound. When his bottom was the same shade of red that Sokka's had been, Hakoda announced that his punishment was over. Zuko slowly stood and pulled his pants back up, and Hakoda and Sokka were both shocked to see that he had not cried a single tear.
"I'm sorry that we went in to town. It was stupid, and it won't happen again." Zuko's voice was raspy, low. Hakoda forgave him, then told both boys they were free to leave.
Both boys went to their rooms afterwards, emerging a little bit later to reunite with the rest of the group over dinner, which Katara had cooked for them. When Sokka sat he winced ever so slightly. Katara caught the action and arched an eyebrow, but remained silent – until she saw Zuko do the same thing moments later.
"Okay, what happened?" Everyone looked at her in confusion, and Sokka sputtered "What do you mean what happened?" completely erasing the possibility that nothing had happened. "You two," she pointed at Zuko and Sokka, "both winced when you sat down. And I know for a fact that you disappeared with Dad earlier." She rounded on her father, finger still pointing. "Did you spank them?" Her tone was filled with disbelief, but no answer was needed; the blush that covered Zuko's face, and the way that Sokka loudly denied it was proof enough.
Aang, eyes wide, quickly excused himself, pulling a protesting Toph with him. Suki followed immediately, not wanting to be left behind. Hakoda, Katara, Sokka, and Zuko were left at the table.
"How could you do that?" Katara exclaimed.
"Katara, it's fine, don't make a big deal of it," Sokka tried to placate her, but she would have none of it.
"No, it's not fine, Sokka. We've been on our own for years. We can take care of ourselves. We don't need you treating us like we're little kids, because in case you haven't noticed, we aren't. You were gone, and we grew up. You can't just pretend like we didn't." She sounded near tears, and Hakoda and the boys instantly realized that she wasn't so much mad as upset. Before any of them could say anything she had turned and ran to her room. The three of them looked at one another, unsure of what to do. Hakoda stood to follow her, and Sokka stopped him.
"She needs time to calm down. Let's eat, and then I'll go talk to her."
* 20 minutes later *
Sokka walked to Katara's room and knocked on the door, ignoring her shouted "Go away" and simply walking in. She was lying on the bed, facing away from the door. Sokka approached her and sat down.
"I understand your point, Katara," he said softly. "Dad was gone for a long time. We aren't the little kids he left behind, and we did fine on our own. But he's still our father, and he has the right to punish us if he thinks we deserve it." She didn't say anything, so he kept going. "I mean, I guess he doesn't technically have the right to punish Zuko, but he didn't object or anything, so I guess he was okay with it. Anyway, Katara, what Zuko and I did was stupid. We put all of us in danger." Sokka fell silent for a minute, debating over whether or not to tell her something. Katara rolled over so that she was facing his back instead of the wall, curious. She understood what Sokka had said, and if she was being honest she could admit that she wasn't really mad that they'd been punished – she was just mad that her father had jumped back into their lives in such a huge way, after leaving them for years. Sokka's voice broke through the silence as he decided to share a secret.
"Remember when Aang went to that Fire Nation school and got in trouble with the principal? We were all furious, because he put us all in danger. Later that day, when you and Toph went out to do something – I don't remember what – I spanked him." Katara gasped, staring at her brother's back with wide eyes. "It wasn't really my place, but he didn't seem to think what he had done was a big deal, and I needed to make sure he didn't do it again. I kept thinking to myself 'What would Dad do?' and I knew that in the same situation he would have strapped me. I couldn't do that to Aang, couldn't bring myself to use my belt, but . . ." He trailed off and Katara sat up and put her hand on his shoulder.
"You did the right thing, Sokka. And I guess Dad did, too. I'll go apologize to him in a second." Then, after a pause, she added, "I can't believe Zuko just let Dad spank him."
"You know," Sokka said slowly, "it was really weird. He didn't protest at all. And . . ." He stopped, looking embarrassed. Katara moved so that she was next to him.
"What is it, Sokka?"
"Well, it's just . . . I've never been able to not, um, cry, whenever Dad punished me." Katara laughed softly.
"That's not exactly news, Sokka. I was there when we were younger, remember? Half the village could hear you when you got a spanking." Offended, Sokka huffed, but he could not deny her words. He had always been pretty vocal.
"Okay, well, anyway. Zuko didn't cry at all. Not a single tear. His eyes weren't even wet. I was in the room, Katara, and I know what his punishment was like. It was weird."
"Maybe he's just really good at holding it in."
"Yeah, but why? I mean, he had already watched me – he knew how hard I cried. It's not like he had anything to be embarrassed by." Katara simply shrugged, unsure of what to say. After a couple minutes, Sokka shrugged, too. "Well, anyway, I'm gonna go grab more food. See ya, sis." Katara laughed and rolled her eyes. It was so like Sokka to just brush off everything they'd talked about in favor of food. Then she sighed, realizing she had to go apologize to her father.
Hakoda forgave her, of course, and hugged her and told her how much he'd missed his children while he'd been gone. They talked for a bit, then both retired to their rooms to get some sleep.
That night, Zuko lie awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep. Couldn't stop thinking about the punishment he'd received earlier that day. He hadn't been spanked since shortly after leaving the Fire Nation, almost four years prior. His uncle had been the one to punish him that time – it was the first and only time Iroh had ever laid a hand on him, even though he had certainly deserved it on other, later, occasions. It had been so different from any of the punishments his father had ever given him; he had credited it, at the time, to the fact that Iroh actually loved him. But when Hakoda had spanked him, it had been the same way, and Zuko was fairly certain that the Water Tribe man did not even particularly like him, much less love him.
Lying in bed, his cheeks flushed again at the memory. Listening to the lecture, then having to watch Sokka – one of the first people he had ever considered a friend – get punished, hearing his cries, had been awful. He had felt sick to his stomach when Hakoda had first ordered Sokka to lower his pants, but as he watched he realized that despite the fact that Hakoda was clearly angry, he didn't appear to be enjoying what he was doing. Zuko had been shocked by the sadness that flooded the man's eyes as he punished his son. Ozai had always looked satisfied, and occasionally even pleased, while he punished him – though Zuko used the word 'punish' loosely. He shuddered slightly at the memories of some of his worst punishments, then stood up abruptly. He couldn't lay there any longer.
He began to wander the halls of his old beach house, one of the few places he'd gone with his family and actually had good times. Ozai had actually relaxed there, and being on the beach had given Zuko the opportunity to escape often. Even Azula hadn't been nearly as bad when they were there. As he walked around, though, he could not forget that the reason he was back in the Fire Nation was to defeat his father. He couldn't pretend this was some happy vacation like in times past. And he couldn't stop thinking about the events that had led him there.
He left the house and walked down to the beach, collapsing on the sand. With his head in his hands he began to cry. Memories assaulted him, viciously forcing him to remember things that he had tried to erase.
Katara couldn't sleep. Getting out of bed, she decided to go down to the ocean and practice bending, hoping that the fresh air and activity would help her clear her mind so that she could sleep. As she walked, she spotted a lone figure hunched on the sand. Instantly alert she formed a small water whip using moisture from the air and held it in front of her as she crept forward slowly. When she got nearer, she realized with a start that the figure was Zuko. Curious, and a bit worried, she dropped the whip and approached him. She laid her hand gently on his shoulder and said his name, and he jumped, startled.
"Sorry," she started, "I just wanted to -" She broke off, noticing the tears on his face. He seemed to realize that, and quickly wiped his face, turning away from her.
"I'm fine, Katara," he said, a bit harshly. She bit her lip. It was obvious that he wasn't, but she wasn't sure if she should intrude. She was worried, though, and so she sat down next to him on the sand.
"Why are you crying, Zuko?" Her voice was gentle, but he resented the question all the same. He hadn't wanted her to see – hadn't wanted any of them to see – how weak he really was. He couldn't answer her without his voice betraying him, so he stayed silent. After several minutes of silence, she spoke again. "You don't have to be embarrassed, Zuko. There's nothing wrong with crying." He shot her an angry look, eyes daggers.
"Yes, there is," he snapped. "It's weak. It's pathetic. Boys aren't supposed to cry." Katara laughed softly.
"I guess Sokka is a girl then." Zuko wasn't amused.
"You don't get it, Katara," he said angrily. "Just leave me alone." She almost did, too. But then she looked at the boy sitting next to her, at the sadness that lingered behind the anger. Something had compelled him to go outside, something had driven him to tears, and she cared about him too much to let him sit outside by himself and cry.
Unsure of what, exactly, compelled her to do it, Katara moved so that she was kneeling in front of Zuko and wrapped her arms around him. He stiffened, then slowly relaxed under her hold. Before he could stop himself he was leaning into her, sobbing. Katara tightened her hold on him, pressing her face into his hair and stroking his back. When he stopped crying he pulled back a little and gazed at her. Before either of them could think about what they were doing, their lips met.
When the kiss ended, they both pulled away and looked at one another in surprise. Stammering slightly, Zuko apologized, but Katara simply smiled and leaned forward, kissing him softly. His eyes widened, and filled with desire. They both wondered what the hell they were doing; neither of them could bring themselves to stop.