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"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sokka rocks back on his heels, fiddling with the ball of wax, and looks Zuko over again. "I know we both agreed it would be pretty hot, but I don't want it to be too much."
"It won't be too much." Zuko takes the wax from his restless hands, rolling it between his fingers with just enough warmth to soften it. "I trust you." Sokka's gaze heats a little at that, just like he knew it would. Zuko isn't the only easy one in this relationship. "So should I just go ahead and...?"
"Try it?"
The wax is almost uncomfortably warm as Zuko shapes it vaguely into earplugs and presses them into place, biting his lip as he looks back up at Sokka. His mouth is moving, but- He can tell that Sokka is speaking, can hear the familiar timbre of his voice, but only just and with no words distinguishable.
"I can barely hear anything," he says, his own voice echoing oddly inside his head, and Sokka raises an eyebrow and gestures for him to remove the plugs. Zuko leaves the one in his scarred ear - it's not like he has good hearing there to begin with.
"All good?"
"I could tell you were talking, but not what you were saying, and I might not have even realised if I didn't see you. So... Yeah. It works." The warmth of desire is curling deep in the pit of his stomach at the thought of surrendering so entirely to Sokka, putting himself powerless into his hands- He's only wearing a thin robe and he knows that Sokka can see his cock twitch through the silk, despite having been hard since they started talking about doing this tonight.
"Okay." Sokka steps closer and kisses him, bringing their hips together. "So. Final check-in. You don't want any forewarning of what I might do, so long as it's something that's established on our green list." Zuko nods, biting back a whine as Sokka slowly rolls his hips up against him. "I need verbal confirmation, sweetheart. Impact play?"
"Yes," Zuko whispers.
"Including with toys? I know you prefer my hands, but I might want to have a bit of fun."
"Yes."
"Deepthroating and face-fucking?"
"Yes."
"Pain?"
"Pinching, scratching, hair-pulling, choking." Zuko automatically recites the list of pains that feel good and don't send him into a panic.
"Orgasm control?"
"Yes."
"Tying you up?"
"Yes," Zuko says into his neck as Sokka's arms loop around his waist, mostly given up on having his legs hold him steady.
"Fucking you?"
"Obviously. That's the point."
"I don't want to presume." Sokka nuzzles the top of his head. "Edge cases. How are you feeling about breath control today?"
Zuko presses his face into Sokka's shoulder, shivering. "I- Yes. With warning."
"That doesn't sound very confident. Only enthusiastic consent allowed in this room, baby."
"I like it. I do. I just... I want warning." He pushes himself upright again. "Like when you choke me, you never go straight in for it, you always-" He lifts one hand and places it against Sokka's throat, resting it there for a moment before squeezing lightly. "You know?" Sokka's pulse hammers against his palm before he lifts his hand again.
"Yeah. I get it. So, warning will be-" He slides his hand up Zuko's arm to brush his cheek, then spreads it out across his mouth and chin, thumb resting against the side of his nose, lightly enough to not impair his breathing in the slightest. "And that's your chance to signal or safeword, yeah? And then after a moment or two-" He clamps his hand down more fully, the other coming up to cradle the back of his neck as Zuko instinctively jerks away, and squeezes to block his nose.
Zuko fights the instinct to reach up and grab Sokka's wrists and instead meets his eyes, dark with lust, and squeezes where his hands still rest at Sokka's waist. The taller man lets out a long shaky breath, thumb caressing the back of his neck as Zuko's eyelids flutter closed for a moment.
"Fuck, you're so pretty like that," he says, dropping his hand again to cup Zuko's cheeks and kiss him. "Okay. I'll do that, yeah?"
Zuko nods again, not trusting his voice as he sucks in a deep breath.
"I'll mostly leave your mouth free, want to hear all those gorgeous noises, but if I don't?"
"Three. Either hitting you three times, or the bed, or-" Zuko reaches out to the candles around the room, flaring them high and casting sinister shadows across Sokka's face. "And then stopping, ungagging, talking about what needs stopping or changing."
"Good boy," Sokka murmurs, and Zuko shivers. "And if you're not gagged?"
"Jasmine for a hard stop. Amber for wanting something changing or rearranging. Green for it being fine."
Sokka kisses his temple. "I can't ask for your colour when you can't hear me, so I need you to check in with me, okay? When I start something new for the first time, I need you to immediately check in and colour-code me, unless you can't speak. Spontaneity is all well and good, but I'm not screwing you up just because you froze up and I took it as an okay. Do you hear me?"
"Yes." Zuko reaches up to kiss him again. "I understand."
"Okay, sweetheart. Okay." A little kiss right between his brows, over the beginning of the frown lines Sokka likes to tease him about. "You ready?"
"I'm ready. I want this."
"What do you want?" Sokka reaches down to where Zuko put the removed earplug on the end of the bed.
Zuko sucks his lip between his teeth, skims his hands down over Sokka's hips, looks up to meet his eyes again. "I want you to use me."
Sokka's voice is low and pleased in his ear when he ducks his head low to nip at his earlobe. "Good boy."
The plug slips into place and Zuko takes a moment to press his hand to his ear, making sure it'll stay there, before looking back up at Sokka. Fuck, this is happening, they're doing this-
He shakes his head when Sokka clicks his fingers and raises a quizzical eyebrow - if the movement hadn't caught his eye, he would never have known. Sokka turns away for a moment, leaving him to shift nervously from foot to foot, then turns back with a dark sash, holding it up and waiting for Zuko's nod before he circles around behind him.
The soft fabric slips across Zuko's throat, being pulled taut for just a second, and he hastily says "It's green-" just as Sokka is pulling it away again. He feels rather than hears the rumble of laughter behind him, and then he's being turned to face the mirror, watching his wide-eyed reflection as Sokka slips the sash back around his throat and wraps both ends around one hand to twist it tighter. His other hand slips down on the outside of the robe, pinching a nipple through the fabric, pausing to squeeze his hip before stroking him once or twice, and Zuko makes a soft little noise as he watches the silk darken with pre-cum.
Sokka's mouth is moving, clearly dirty-talking him even though he can't hear a word of it, and the sash goes tighter just for a second before it's being removed. Zuko takes a moment to stare at the reflection, to fix this in his memory, how hungrily Sokka is watching him and how desperately debauched he already looks, then the sash is being slipped over his eyes and tied tightly.
Sokka must have upgraded it - he can't even see the light of the window when he turns his head, so he won't be able to see when Sokka moves in front of a light source.
He's completely helpless in Sokka's hands, and he already loves it.
"Green," Zuko breathes, and Sokka's hands finally leave the knot to pull out his hairtie and let it down loose around his shoulders over the blindfold.
There's a little huff of breath at his temple, clearly Sokka saying something, followed by a brush of lips, and Zuko sways instinctively after it as Sokka pulls away again. Hands at his waist steady him - his balance is slightly off at the best of times, post-scar, and it's going to be even worse with no point of reference - then Sokka's foot slips between his ankles to spread his feet shoulder-width apart, and his hands move from Zuko's waist to his wrists.
Sokka tugs lightly at them and Zuko nods, letting his arms be folded around behind him until his forearms are parallel, and Sokka's hands fold over his own to make sure he's holding his arms. He stands where he's been placed, biting his lip as Sokka's hands linger over his, then a finger hooks under his chin and tilts his head up.
"Oh, uh- green?" That must be what Sokka was looking for, because there's a careful kiss dropped high on his cheekbone. "You want me to colour-code for things like manhandling? I wasn't going to, unless you tied me." He lets a bit of amusement bleed into his tone, despite not being able to see or hear Sokka's reaction. "This is going to take a really long time if I have to say it every time you move me around."
There's a long moment in which Sokka's hands hover and then leave, and Zuko fidgets and turns his head as though he can see where he's gone. Then there's a hand on his wrist again and the brush of a rope against the other, and Sokka taps one and then the other.
"Um- I'll code for rope and not for hands? Is that what you're-" The hand touching his wrist abruptly tightens, and then Sokka taps it again. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll code if you start pinning me down, but I'm not going to do it if you're just moving me around. If you don't correct me, I'm going to guess that's okay?"
Zuko feels Sokka's hum reverberate through his chest as he wraps his arms back around his waist and plasters his chest - bare now - against Zuko's back, nipping at his neck, and he sighs breathily and leans back against him, keeping his arms folded.
"Mm. That's a yes, then."
Sokka moves away from him again, steadying him for a moment before leaving altogether, and Zuko keeps his head up and looking forward, digging his fingers into his arms as he wonders what Sokka has planned. There's movement at his front and his sash is being untied, robe falling open as Sokka pushes it back off his shoulders and lets it catch at the crook of his elbows.
With no external stimuli, Zuko is painfully aware of his own body - the beads of sweat on his bare chest, the slight throb of a forming bruise on his throat from Sokka's lips and teeth, the way his cock twitches against his thigh at the anticipation. Sokka's hand threading into his hair is almost shocking in its suddenness, and he whines out something barely resembling green as it tightens and guides him to his knees.
There's a cushion that wasn't there when the blindfold went on, and Zuko shifts to centre himself on it, knees spread, and keeps his arms folded as Sokka's hand leaves his head again. His arms are unfolded behind him, quickly and clinically, to strip the robe fully, and then moved back into place. Something brushes his lower lip and Zuko darts out his tongue, mouth already watering at the thought of getting Sokka's cock- Well, his fingers will do. Zuko tips his head back to face where he reckons Sokka's standing and swirls his tongue around the fingers, slipping between them, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks - look, this is what you could be getting right now - and moans as a third is pressed between his lips.
In the silence of his imposed deprivation, the noises he's making - his little gasps and whines, the obscene noises he makes sucking on Sokka's fingers - ring shockingly loud. Sokka must have noticed his hesitation, because his free hand is coming up to cup Zuko's cheek as a fourth finger slips between his lips, brushing through his hair to tug at it lightly in silent praise. He wonders if he's still talking, even when Zuko can't hear him - such a good boy for me, so pretty on your knees, such a little cockslut - or maybe he's being even dirtier, maybe there's untapped depths that he'd never dare fantasise about where Zuko can hear- He always loves telling Zuko how beautiful he is, how gorgeous he sounds, and even his insults are teasing and affectionate, but sometimes Zuko just wants true degradation and is far too ashamed to ask for it. Maybe Sokka wants that, too, but would never say it first.
Such a fucking slut, the Sokka behind his lids says as the hand in his hair tightens again and tips his head back, as a strand of drool slips from the corner of Zuko's stretched lips. The Fire Lord himself, ruler of a third of the world, down on his knees like a common whore and gagging for a cock down his throat-
Zuko moans helplessly, half at the fantasy and half at Sokka's touch, and feels the grip on his hair tighten again. There's something so liberating about this, like it's somehow not even real, like it's not really his Sokka at all and Zuko can do anything, say anything, in this strange fantasy world of darkness and silence, and never have any repercussions. He knows that's not true, he knows, but the idea that anything done here will stay here makes him whine, surely muffled by Sokka's fingers out there in the real world.
Sokka shifts his hand to pull his fingers out, the other steadying his head by his hair, and a thumb swipes across his chin to wipe up the spit.
"Sokka," he breathes, and pauses for the inevitable response before he remembers that one won't be coming. "Sokka, please, want you to fuck my face, fuck my throat-"
The hand at his cheek presses harder, thumb slipping up along his cheekbone like Sokka is grounding himself, and Zuko thinks Oh. He likes this. He bites his lip and tips his face up again.
"Use me," he gasps out before he can think twice, and strains a little against the grip Sokka has on his hair, spit-slick lips parted. "Need your cock down my throat, make yourself feel good, use me as your cocksleeve, please-"
He's shocking himself with his bravery from behind a blindfold - and if he's shocked himself, he doesn't know if he would want to see Sokka's reaction. It's safe here, in the silence and the darkness, except for Sokka's hand on his jaw freezing in its caresses, slackening in his hair, and fuck, he fucked up, everything was so good and then he just had to take it too far, fuck-
But Sokka's hand slips around to his chin and tightens, wrenching his mouth open, and Zuko whines and pulls forward and then Sokka is pressing into the back of his throat without stopping, holding there for a second while Zuko gags around him before pulling out again.
"Green," Zuko whines, rocking forward again the weight of Sokka's hand tangled into his hair. Wasn't begging for it enough? "Green, all of it, fuck-"
He surrenders to Sokka's hands in his hair and against his jaw, to the cock that stays pressed down his throat for a moment too long before Sokka lets him break and cough until he opens his mouth again with a pleading little whimper, not falling into a rhythm because he doesn't need to, all he has to do is let his weight hang heavy from Sokka's hand and keep his head steady and his mouth open, all he has to do is feel-
He squeaks and clutches at his own folded arms as though they can steady him when Sokka drags him upright again, hefts him onto the bed without warning, lands atop him with bruising force as he grabs Zuko's wrists from the small of his back to pin them over his head and then he's being kissed, deep and hard and messy. Sokka's lips move down to his neck and there's a gust of air that has to be words, and Zuko whines and bares his throat for him.
"Green," he whispers. "Just fuck me, please, anything, green-"
Sokka flips him onto his front and drags his hips up, thrusting a cursory three fingers into him - Zuko had prepped thoroughly before they had initiated anything, and Sokka must have grabbed the oil because it's being poured haphazardly across his ass - and then he's perfectly, gut-wrenchingly full and he doesn't even think he's capable of words anymore.
Fuck, he has to be able to do words, otherwise Sokka will stop and it'll all go away again, because one hand is leaving his wrist to wrap around his throat and the other has grabbed his chin, and nothing in the world exists except Sokka's weight at his back and his cock inside him and the grip of his hands, and-
"Green," he sobs out, just as Sokka's thrusts are beginning to slow and his hands slacken. "Sokka, fuck-"
A hand tightens around his throat, the only thing keeping him in place as Sokka's growl reverberates through him and his thrusts pick up again, and the other clamps over his nose and mouth, and Zuko can see the flare of the flames even through blindfold and eyes clenched shut as he's flung off the precipice and-
Sokka is there to catch him, one hand warm and heavy at his back as he carefully turns him over, massaging his throat, kissing away messy tears, curling around him, gently touching his ear. Zuko thinks he probably makes a vague noise of agreement because a moment later the earplug is slipping out of his good ear and the world is rushing back in.
"You there?" Sokka asks softly, and hearing his voice again feels so good it hurts.
"Mhm." Zuko shifts slightly and feels a distinct lack of- "You didn't cum?" He tries not to sound hurt, but it's hard.
"Baby." Sokka noses at his hair, stuck to his forehead and the blindfold with sweat. "I forgot to ask about overstimulation, and you were too out of it to code one way or the other, so I called time."
"I'd've said yes."
"Doesn't matter." Kisses scattered along his cheekbone and the edge of his blindfold, and Zuko reaches for him and skims a hand down his ribs until he finds his cock, painfully hard. "Can I see your pretty face when I cum?"
Zuko nods, setting his hands at Sokka's hips again and pulling him up to straddle his lap as the knot is teased open, tugging slightly at strands of hair caught in it.
"There you are," Sokka breathes, kissing his eyelids one after the other as Zuko squints against the light. "My pretty perfect slutty boy." He laughs, deep and throaty as Zuko squirms under him. "That's what you want to hear, isn't it? All about how gorgeous you were when you were begging me to use you?"
"Sokka," Zuko whines, and Sokka gets a hand on himself and braces himself on his other elbow, face inches from Zuko's own and his loose hair hanging around them like a curtain.
"Was going to drag this out for hours, tease you in all the right ways, have you forgetting your own name, but fuck, sweetheart, I just had to have you after that little display. So shameless, so easy for me, telling me what you really want-"
"Want you to do whatever you want to me," Zuko whispers, dragging his hands over every inch that he can reach, unable to tear his eyes from Sokka's blue ones now that he has him back. "Don't even think about what I need, just use my body to get off, throw me around and fuck me however you like."
Sokka hisses out a breath, hand a blur, and presses his forehead to Zuko's.
"Always wanted it, always, I was just too scared to ask, but it was so easy when I didn't have to think about- Fuck, Sokka, it was so good, didn't have to do anything but be your fucktoy, just want to be like that for you every day-"
Sokka's arm gives out as he spasms and collapses onto him, smearing a second load of cum across Zuko's stomach and tucking his face into his bruised and bitten neck.
"Do you have any idea," he says, muffled. "Any idea at all, how fucking hot you are when you get like that. Just. Fuck. Almost came without touching when you started begging on your knees like that, could have teased you for hours but I had to fuck you before I embarrassed myself." He pulls back to frame Zuko's face between his hands. "Such a little whore," he says affectionately as Zuko blushes furiously. "What would people think if they saw you like that on your knees for me, huh?"
"They would think," Zuko says lazily, looping his arms around Sokka's shoulders and deciding that clean-up and washing can wait for the morning. "That I am a very lucky man."
Sokka doesn't disagree, and he gets another two orgasms as repayment for his quote-unquote honesty, so he counts that as a win.