Chapter Text
Sokka is an artist.
Sokka may not be classically trained, or traditionally talented, but that does not detract from the fact that he is still, in his heart, an artist. It’s a relief, in between the rush of battling enemies and saving the world, to find joy in the act of creation and creativity. It’s a relief to swirl ink or charcoal over paper, or whittle a shape out of wood. So what if his artwork would never find its way into a museum or win him any awards? Sokka has heard his friends snicker over his doodles, had seen Piandao’s reaction to his landscape painting. He knows his own limitations. But he’s an artist. And an artist follows some simple rules. If he can create something out of nothing, what a wonderful gift. And if he sees something beautiful, he wants to capture it.
It’s a slow day at the Western Air Temple camp. Aang was let off training early so he could run around the temples with Haru and Teo and The Duke like he’d been begging to do for days. Sokka had good luck finding food the day before, so his chores were finished, and he was lounging by the campfire, absentmindedly polishing his space sword. Katara, ever studious, was by the fountain practicing her bending. Toph sat across the fire from Sokka, chatting with the latest addition to Team Avatar.
It was strange how soft the fire prince seemed in the golden hour glow. It was strange just seeing him sit in one place for an extended period of time, to be honest. Sokka’s previous encounters with Zuko had mainly been in the rush of battle, blurred in movement and obscured by flame. Since Zuko had joined the group, though, Sokka had found his eyes drawn towards the dark haired boy more and more. Probably just because he had never gotten a good look at his face before. It was hard to believe that this awkward, quiet teenager sitting across from him was the same person who had attacked his village less than a year prior. Thank god that ponytail is gone, he mused. You almost could’ve convinced Sokka that the angry jerk he first met was an entirely separate person from his new… comrade?... if not for the telltale scar.
Across the campfire, Toph cracked a joke and Zuko bit back a laugh, a small smile curving across his face.
Sokka was hit with the overwhelming urge to draw.
Without letting himself think about it too much, Sokka fished around in his bag for a sheet of paper and a new piece of charcoal he had stocked up on last time they were in town. Right, then. Portraiture was by no means an easy task, but when the impulse was there an artist had to follow it. And Sokka was an artist. At least charcoal was less formidably permanent and messy than ink. It had the potential to blend and soften, to smudge the shadows. And as a bonus, it made it easier to be secretive about what he was doing and hunch over the paper without worrying about smearing his work.
Discreetly glancing across the firelight, he started with the outlines of Zuko’s head and shoulders, letting that take up most of the paper. Sharp jawlines contrasting with the soft fall of dark hair. The streamline of fire nation robes, borders on the collar. The long slant of a nose, full eyebrow (singular). Eyes were hard to draw, but at least the pressure was off to make them evenly sized since, y’know….
Sokka’s gaze flickered nervously to Zuko, as if the firebender might turn out to be a mind reader and find Sokka’s thoughts insensitive. Hey, stranger things had happened. He studied the firebender’s scar before tracing out the slope of the burn, smudging the charcoal in to indicate the ridges of discolored skin.
It was almost thrilling, getting this far without being caught, observing and drawing with the other boy having no idea. But he jinxed himself as he stared too long, waiting for that smile to return so he could get it just right. His eyes were fixed in such concentration on the lower half of Zuko’s face, Sokka’s own lip bitten and brow furrowed, that it took him a second too long to realize that Zuko had caught him staring.
Sokka’s eyes went wide. Impulsively, he waved.
“Sorry!” he said, his voice coming out too loud, “Just zoned out, I’m writing up some plans.”
He gestured at the paper in his lap, while nonchalantly shielding its contents from view at the same time. Luckily the other boy didn’t question it, just nodded at him and there, there was that smile Sokka had been waiting for, flashing just for a second before he turned back to Toph.
Something zinged through Sokka’s chest at the sight of that soft smile directed at him. He chalked it up to feeling victorious that he hadn’t gotten caught, and set about finishing up the sketch. A thin line just curving up slightly on the left. One dimple. Hm. Sokka studied his work. Shit, it wasn’t quite right. It was slightly off center. Sokka sighed in frustration. Too late to go back, smudging it would just ruin the rest of it. If only there was a material that you could use to cleanly remove the charcoal from the paper and fix mistakes, he mused. That was an idea to file away for later.
The drawing actually looked pretty darn good overall though, if he could say so himself. One of his better works to date. Charcoal was certainly more forgiving than ink. Just a few more details and it would be done, and nobody would have to know-
“Wow, Sokka! That looks just like Zuko!”
Sokka whirled around with a fierce cut-it-out gesture to Aang, who had managed to glide up silently behind his shoulder. But it was too late. Zuko had started at the mention of his name and was giving the boys a suspicious look. Shit.
“What’s happening?” Zuko asked warily.
Aang nervously tried to repair the mistake he now realized he had made, “Oh it’s nothing! Totally nothing! You thought we said Zuko? No, hahaha, I said, uh, ‘zoo...um…. bro’! Uh, like...Sokka was drawing the zoo, bro! Y’know, the zoo I made in Ba Sing Se!”
Zuko stood up and Aang gulped. Sokka reflexively hugged the drawing close to his chest, not helping him look any less guilty.
“I thought you were writing up plans.” Zuko was glaring at Sokka and the water tribe boy could feel his whole face go warm. “Were you... drawing me?”
“No!” Sokka shot back, defensive.
“Not drawing you at all, no way!” Aang echoed unconvincingly.
Zuko’s fists were tight by his sides and yeah, there was that angry expression Sokka was more used to seeing from the old days.
“I know you’re lying.”
“They are.” Toph remarked casually. Damn Sokka hated that ability of hers.
Zuko tensed even more at the confirmation. “What, were you making fun of me or something?”
Sokka’s heart sank. “No, it’s not like that-”
“Then show me the parchment.”
Sokka hesitated. What if Zuko saw the drawing and thought he was making fun of him anyway because Sokka’s drawing skills weren’t great? Or what if he thought the whole thing was creepy and avoided him from now on and things were awkward and-
A hurt expression flashed across Zuko’s face before he turned away sharply, muttering, “Forget it.” No, no, no. That wouldn’t do either.
“Wait! Okay.” Sokka held the paper out for Zuko to take, ducking his head. He half expected the firebender to incinerate it in his hands, or to chew Sokka out for being weird, but nothing happened. The water tribe boy looked up hesitantly to see Zuko’s reaction.
The anger and hurt on Zuko’s face had been replaced with a soft look that made Sokka’s stomach twist in a funny way.
“Oh,” Zuko said, “um, this is-”
“It’s not great, I know.” Sokka launched into an explanation, “I swear I wasn’t doing it to make fun of you, I’m just not very skilled but-”
“Can I keep it?”
Sokka blinked. “What?”
“I, um,” The sun was setting but Sokka could swear he saw a flush on the firebender’s cheeks as he fidgeted in place. “It’s nice. Can I have it? The drawing, I mean.”
A giant grin broke across Sokka’s face. “Really?!?” he crowed, relief flooding over him. “Yeah dude, of course! Nobody’s ever wanted to keep something I’ve made! Aang, did you hear that?? I am an ARTIST!!!!”
He struck a victorious pose and heard Aang snicker behind him. Paying him no mind, he continued his proud rant. “This is the best moment of my life. I will sign it for you and everything. You can say you knew me before I became a world class artist with thousands of customers. You were the first. Hey... maybe I should charge you for it,” Sokka teased, but he quickly backed down at Zuko’s scowl. “Kidding, I’m kidding. Um, I was gonna add a few more details though, so, uh. I can give you the finished thing later tonight?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Zuko handed the parchment back to Sokka. The two boys just smiled awkwardly at each other before Katara called for them to help with dinner, and Sokka skipped over, grin still plastered on his face.
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“Can I come in?”
Zuko nodded and Sokka made his way into Zuko’s chambers. He had already said he liked the drawing earlier, so why was Sokka’s heart thudding nervously in his chest?
The sketch had been finished after dinner as the whole gang relaxed and laughed around the fire. Zuko, now that he was aware of being observed, kept catching Sokka’s eye and flushing red, staring down at the ground. Sokka wished he had colored charcoal so he could capture that blush too, but he didn’t. So instead, he just committed the sight to memory. Y’know, in case he had the opportunity to draw Zuko with more colors someday. That’s why.
And now he was sitting next to Zuko on his bed, sheepishly handing over the finished product and still compulsively making excuses for it.
“The mouth is off center, and I smudged it a little bit when I accidentally leaned my arm on it and-”
Zuko shushed him. “It’s good,” he said plainly. “I mean, it’s nowhere near professional quality or anything, but I wouldn’t expect that from someone like you.”
Sokka’s shoulders slumped. Zuko scrubbed at his face in frustration, “No, sorry, wait. Stupid.” he muttered to himself. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just- I’m trying to say…”
Sokka waited as Zuko took a deep breath, the silence making him fidget.
“My family and I used to sit for portraits every year. Y’know, royal family stuff,” Zuko waved his hand awkwardly. “I had to wear itchy robes and sit still for a while, but I liked it. The artists were really nice, most of the time. And uh,” He took a breath. “because we all had to be still, nobody could argue, or fight. It was peaceful. I’d look forward to it every year.” Zuko was quiet for a bit. “Um, but, I guess nobody’s really drawn me in years, since, uh…” he trailed off, hand drifting over the left side of his face.
“Oh,” Sokka breathed softly.
“Other than my wanted poster, I guess,” Zuko said hastily, forcing out a laugh.
“Well, your hair is much better now.”
Zuko’s laugh was a little more genuine that time. “Thanks. We can send this drawing to the Fire Nation so they can update it.” His face got serious. “Now that I’m a traitor, too.”
Silence again. Sokka carefully reached out to place his hand on Zuko’s shoulder.
“Hey. I’m glad you’re here,” Sokka blurted out, “You’re doing the right thing.”
Zuko ducked his head. “Yeah.”
“And I’ll draw you whenever you want! If you want. To make up for lost time.”
There was that sweet shy smile again. “Yeah. Um. Sure. If you want to.”
As golden eyes met blue ones, Sokka became extremely aware of his hand lingering too long on Zuko’s shoulder. He cleared his throat and patted Zuko’s back heartily, stretching as he stood back up.
“Well, man, I should let you get some rest. You’ve got a full day of jerk-bending tomorrow. And I might do some more art-bending, and an artist needs his beauty sleep. Y’know, so he can create beautiful things.”
Zuko huffed a laugh. “Sure, yeah.”
“Sleep tight, and flameo and all that,” Sokka called over his shoulder as he made his way to the door.
“Sokka?”
He turned around. Zuko looked like he was going to say something for a second, but then something passed over his face like he decided against it. “Never mind. Goodnight.”
Sokka smiled at him before heading back to his own chambers. As he got ready for bed, his pulse was still thrumming wildly, and images of Zuko blushing in the firelight were still flickering in his mind. The burdens of being an artist, I guess, Sokka shrugged to himself.
Yeah. That must be what it was.