the higher ground
title: the higher ground
character(s): Zuko, Sokka
genre: humor
rating: PG13
notes: A continuation of the drabble 'that one's for your twin.' Because riddering said, and I quote, And porn follows off-camera after the events of this fic, right? Well. We can pretty much figure I've got a trigger in place of motivation. XD

On the other hand, now I want to write serious drunk!smut that doesn't go OOC like this does. (Conclusion: I am immature.)


the higher ground


With all the gentle affection due the situation, Zuko dumped Sokka (boneless and singing off-key, to the tune of Something God Awful) into the messy pile of furs. "If you ever drink again," Zuko said, "you may keep in mind that I won't do this again. Additionally, I hate you."

Sokka struggled to right himself and made a small complaining noise as he flailed an arm. Finally, after mustering great strength of will, he turned his head the fraction of an inch needed to free his nose from the skin and said, "That was not nice."

"No," Zuko said, nudging Sokka's sprawled leg with his boot, "but I don't really care, do I, idiot."

Sokka thought about this, the skin between his eyes wrinkling and the corner of his mouth twisting as he considered. "No," he offered, thoughtfully, flexing his fingers one-two-one-three over the fur, and flopped his face into the furs. "Zuko," he said after a moment, "my head hurts. I think there was something in my drink."

"Yes," Zuko said, without bothering to blink. "There was. It's called 'wine.'"

Sokka bolted upright, eyes wild and face astonished; he smacked a fist in his palm. "That's it," he said, triumphant, and for good measure shook his fist in the air. He weaved, slightly, the arm he was balanced on wavering.

"That's what?" Zuko eyed him much as he would a raving madman. "Are you delusional yet?"

"I'm drunk," Sokka shouted, and collapsed in a fit of giggles.

Zuko could hardly have been shocked; after all, he thought, this was the same idiotic boy who routinely managed to wind up either in women's clothing or bound and tied up.

Perhaps, in retrospect, that wasn't the right train of thought to take.

"Good night," Zuko muttered, heading for the tent flaps and the sane fresh air outside.

A leather boot struck the back of his head.

"Hey," Sokka said, indignantly. "Where do you think you're going, dumbass?"

Zuko froze, shoulders tensing and fingers crooking as he grit his teeth. "Outside," he said. "Away."

"Why?"

He was grinding an inch from his molars, he knew it; one day he'd have no teeth to chew with and it would be all. Sokka's. fault.

"Because," Zuko enunciated carefully, turning to fold his fingertips neatly together as he glowered. "If I stay in here, your stupid might catch."

Sokka looked as if he were considering this, in turn, blue eyes rolling up and mouth doing that twist at the end again. "I don't think it works like that," he said, finally. "I don't have a cold."

"Precisely why I'm leaving," Zuko said, dryly. He turned, gripped the tent flap, and was promptly pitched out on his face when the second boot hit his head. "YOU IDIOTIC LITTLE--"

He snapped on his heel and shoved the tent flap aside, storming back into the tent with murder in his eyes, fire on his knuckles, and enamel grinding in his mouth. "You," he started in a hiss, and was just as promptly tackled to the furs. "Oof! What on--are you insane?"

"I'm drunk," Sokka said happily, a hand firm on each of Zuko's shoulders, legs tangled. "I win!"

"I hate you," Zuko told him. "If your sister wouldn't suspect me with or without conclusive evidence, I would kill you." He tried to wriggle out of Sokka's grasp and generally away.

Sokka, having prepared extensively for such an escape attempt, immediately sat, hard, on Zuko's middle, stretching his legs on either side. "I don't know if it's the wine," Sokka said, airily, "or if it's 'cause I'm horny--"

"NO," Zuko suggested, and then, "Get off of me or I'll set you on fire."

"But!" Sokka protested, pouting in only a vaguely cross-eyed-and-weaving fashion. "Drunk! Horny! Now!"

"Dignity," Zuko said. "Cold, tired, no."

"Oh, damn it," Sokka scowled. After a moment of intense thought, his dark face brightened, blue eyes lighting smugly, and with an air of exceeding confidence, he mashed his mouth to Zuko's.

"No," Zuko said, a moment later, focusing on a spot somewhere over the broad cut of Sokka's (semi-bare) left shoulder.

"Now," Sokka suggested, and shifted his weight on Zuko in a simple but very significant fashion which, clearly, explained why somewhere around two minutes later Sokka's undershirt was in the vicinity of Outside and Zuko's outer gear was generally Everywhere Else.

"Happy," Sokka chanted, pleased, in Zuko's ear, biting the soft edge and dragging his teeth. "Happy, happy, happy."

"I know," Zuko said, gritting his teeth only once, and traced a quick path along the stretch of dark, salty skin of Sokka's neck. Sokka's pulse fluttered under his tongue and he nipped, sharply, biting up along the jawline.

"See," Sokka said, right before he dissolved into happy half-drunk singing and/or advanced emphatic moaning, "I told you: I win."



[end]