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Zuko was so goddamn tired. He would never admit it, actors could smell fear and he’d learned the hard way not to show his fellow graduate students he was human. He just needed to survive tech week. “Our Town” was certainly not his first choice as a director, but he still figured it had a bit more depth than Ty Lee’s “Five Lesbians Eating a Quiche.” Thank goodness Mai had agreed to run crew for both shows or they would’ve both been fucked… And that Azula had actually grown enough as a human being to respond to Ty Lee’s unorthodox directing approaches…
These thoughts and more were all swirling together in Zuko’s mind as he pulled up to the coffee stand. He passed it by on his way to his university every day, but had never actually been desperate enough to utilize it before. He preferred his coffee made at home before embarking on the day, but with sleeping through his alarm and fighting with Azula this morning… he just needed coffee. If he had been paying a bit more attention, he might not have been as blindsided as he was.
But this was hell week Zuko. And that meant he was completely and utterly unprepared for what greeted him when the window to the drive through coffee stand opened. Toned brown abs were the first thing that made their impression on his foggy mind. This was enough to make blood rush to his cheeks, and his thoughts stutter to an irrevocable stop. The next was a white choker, clinging tightly to a neck supported by broad shoulders. Zuko attempted to say something, but nothing was coming out, although he was pretty sure his mouth was agape. Speaking of mouths, the man in front of him had one. A very nice one, set upon a gorgeous fucking face and deep blue eyes and hair pulled back into a ponytail and –
“What can I get for you hun?” chuckled the… barista?
Zuko made an extremely choked noise.
This only made the barista grin, leaning forward toward the window. “Ya know, most people notice the signs proudly advertising this as a male-swimsuit barista establishment. So either you knew this, and have been blindsided by my good looks –” here the barista flexed his biceps in a way which made Zuko want to sink into his seat, become one with his car, just dissolve into the atmosphere “– or you didn’t know this. And are still blindsided by my good looks.” A wink accompanied the end of the sentence, and Zuko finally managed to find his voice.
“I did not uhh… I am… it’s tech week and I just…” Agni this was not going well. “Can I just get an espresso. Please?” Zuko asked in a small voice.
The barista tutted. “Alright, but I’ll have you know we charge an exorbitant amount, due to the gun show.”
Zuko finally managed to take a deep breath when the barista turned, although not before noting the muscles on his back, and was that a speedo… oh he was dead so dead. Breathing finally coming under control, he fished a twenty out of his wallet and leaned forward to wedge it between the window and its sill. He did not want to look at any of the oh-so-obvious signs, or spend time thinking about how this was a rather seedy edge of town, or any of the other things Zuko should’ve noticed before reaching this point. The barista had begun speaking again, back still turned to Zuko.
“You know, we get all sorts through here. Mostly cougars, as I’m sure you can imagine. Sometimes a closeted man who is definitely married and definitely trying to convince himself its just about the coffee. Ha, my favorite are the cars full of young girls, where they’re all pretending they dared each other to do this but really most of them wanted to do it in any case.” He turned back, grinning at Zuko, proffering an espresso in his outstretched hand.
“Thanks.”
Zuko took his foot off the brake, intent on getting out of here and never returning when he was stopped by a – “Bro, lemme grab your change first.”
“Oh please just keep it.”
“And here I thought you were just here for the coffee!”
Zuko spluttered. “No, no, I just, I don’t, you’re working here, I don’t need the… just keep the change.”
“Alright. And do I get to know the name of the man who has tipped me so generously before even tasting my espresso?”
“Zuko,” he replied, and then pressed the gas pedal. There was no need to think about this, not ever ever again.
//
Sokka was incredibly bored. That’s the thing Haru had failed to mention when he helped Sokka get this job. Sure, it paid well because people be horny, but there wasn’t a whole lot of clientele. People tended to avoid waiting in line here, in case of being recognized, or some such shame thing. Sokka honestly didn’t dwell much on it, he was majoring in mechanical engineering, not psychology. But all of this put together meant long wait times for Sokka. So it was with a bit of relief he saw a black Mercedes pulling up to his stall. Nice cars usually said “keep the change” at any rate. They also tended to have lingering gazes, but hey, Sokka could only take out so much in student loans, and what Hakoda didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Also Sokka knew he looked damn good, so…
Pulling the window open with a smile, he said, “What can I get for you hun?” What greeted his eyes was the reddest young man Sokka thought he had ever seen. He did not seem capable of speech at the moment, which made Sokka chuckle. There were bags under his eyes, and a panicked expression on his – admittedly cute – face. His hair hung low over the left side of his face, veiling what looked like a nasty scar. The customer made a deeply unsettling noise that sounded a bit like he was dying.
But he was around Sokka’s age, and clearly gay, so: “Ya know, most people notice the signs proudly advertising this as a male-swimsuit barista establishment,” he quipped, leaning forward (possibly to get a better look at his newest customer, but no one could prove that). “So either you knew this, and have been blindsided by my good looks –” he flexed his biceps and watched with growing amusement as the customer appeared to attempt becoming one with the driver’s seat “– or you didn’t know this. And are still blindsided by my good looks.” He winked, immensely amused. This was so much better than pretending he was gonna work on Dr. Pakku’s homework.
“I did not uhh… I am… it’s tech week and I just…” Tui and La this guy was cute when flustered. That or Sokka just liked feeling powerful. One of the two. “Can I just get an espresso. Please?” the man asked in a small voice. It was oddly endearing.
Sokka tutted. “Alright, but I’ll have you know we charge an exorbitant amount, due to the gun show.” He stopped himself from winking again, and turned to begin making the afore-mentioned espresso. Gears were turning in his brain, and the conclusions being reached were decidedly in favor of obtaining this guy’s number. He was respectful, obviously needed some help with his self-esteem, and was involved in theatre no less. That meant something, although Sokka hadn’t decided yet whether it meant “hard-working” or “over-dramatic to the point of being sickening.” Judging by their interactions so far, it was probably both.
“You know,” Sokka mused aloud. “We get all sorts through here. Mostly cougars, as I’m sure you can imagine. Sometimes a closeted man who is definitely married and definitely trying to convince himself its just about the coffee.” He laughed. “My favorite are the cars full of young girls, where they’re all pretending they dared each other to do this but really most of them wanted to do it in any case.” Sokka turned back, grinning, proffering the espresso in his outstretched hand.
“Thanks,” the customer responded, through what was nearly gritted teeth.
Sokka was considering his next move when he saw the twenty on the windowsill. “Bro, lemme grab your change first.”
“Oh please just keep it” the guy responded.
“And here I thought you were just here for the coffee!” Sokka teased.
The man spluttered. “No, no, I just, I don’t, you’re working here, I don’t need the… just keep the change.”
“Alright. And do I get to know the name of the man who has tipped me so generously before even tasting my espresso?” Sokka pressed.
“Zuko,” the customer replied, and sped away before Sokka could follow this up. Zuko. Huh.
//
“Zuko!” an unfamiliar voice called out from across the quad, stopping Zuko in his tracks, eyes darting up from the sidewalk. He was on the way to the theatre to get some schoolwork done, and possibly try to figure out if there was any other way to phrase the notes he had already given to Jin at least a dozen times. Zuko narrowed his eyes as a blue-clad figure came jogging up to him, grin plastered across his face. Somewhere in the back of his head, little alarm bells began going off. “Hey Zuko!” the guy laughed. “You look a lot less hot and bothered this time – what’d’ya think of my espresso?” he winked.
Zuko’s face blanched. N-n-n-n-no this was not happening this was not real what the fuck was happening. Was hell week not enough? Was there to be no escape from the trials of this morning? “H-hi,” he managed before clearing his throat, mind racing. “Your stall’s espresso wasn’t actually that good, so if you were looking for praise, you came to the wrong place.”
“Aah, we both know there are other things you could be praising about me.” The guy responded cheerily.
“I really – I really don’t –”
“So, what were the odds we went to the same school, huh?” Had the barista just elbowed him in the ribs? “And you mentioned tech week – which of the shows are you in? 5 Lesbians, ya?” Another wink.
Zuko took the brief pause for breath to cut in: “I am not ‘in’ any of the shows this season. I’m directing Our Town.”
The guy hummed. “I was thinking about going to that. Sounds a lot less interesting than the quiche one, but –”
“What is your deal, dude?”
“Huh?” round blue eyes gazed at him, brow crinkling.
“I just… I just need to make it through hell week and I just needed coffee, but now you’re here talking to me and I just do not… I do not understand.” Zuko was waving his arms a little wildly, he knew, but being flustered was not one of his strong suits.
“I thought you were cute.”
The shrug which accompanied the statement, the way it was said like a fact, stopped Zuko in his tracks. “I – me – what?” he managed.
The other guy smiled tightly. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfy – upon reflection having a guy you only know as half-naked-bad-espresso guy shout your name from across the quad is little startling. So I will leave you to your… brooding.”
Zuko’s mind was reeling as the guy – barista – what the hell was his name – “Wait!” The figure in blue turned, eyes narrowed. “It’s only fair I know your name, since you have mine.” Zuko managed.
The guy raised an eyebrow, before with a slight smile, replying: “Sokka.” Zuko waved a little as the barista – Sokka – turned his back to him again, walking away towards the Commons.
//
Sokka was heading towards the Commons, thinking about thermodynamics and how much he would like to never, ever, think about his group hot air balloon project again when his eyes caught on a red-clad figure across the quad. No. Way. “Zuko!” Sokka chuckled as the figure stopped, eyes scanning the quad. What were the odds the cute guy whose number he had failed to obtain this morning would go to his school? Sokka jogged up to him, grinning. “Hey Zuko!” he laughed. “You look a lot less hot and bothered this time – what’d’ya think of my espresso?” Sokka couldn’t stop himself from winking. Zuko looked a little like a deer in headlights, but it was still a pretty good look for the guy.
“H-hi,” Zuko replied. “Your stall’s espresso wasn’t actually that good, so if you were looking for praise, you came to the wrong place.”
Sokka nearly laughed. “Aah, we both know there are other things you could be praising about me.”
“I really – I really don’t –” Zuko waffled.
“So, what were the odds we went to the same school, huh?” Sokka nudged Zuko. “And you mentioned tech week – which of the shows are you in? 5 Lesbians, ya?” Sokka winked again. He was absolutely enjoying this a little too much. But since when did the universe align like this, huh?
“I am not ‘in’ any of the shows this season. I’m directing Our Town.” Zuko snapped.
Sokka hummed meditatively. “I was thinking about going to that. Sounds a lot less interesting than the quiche one, but –”
“What is your deal, dude?” Zuko interrupted.
“Huh?” Sokka stared, confusion plaguing him for the first time.
“I just… I just need to make it through hell week and I just needed coffee, but now you’re here talking to me and I just do not… I do not understand.” Zuko was gesticulating wildly, and Sokka was beginning to rethink his approach to this situation.
“I thought you were cute,” he smiled slightly and shrugged. What more was there to say, really?
“I – me – what?” Zuko managed.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfy – upon reflection having a guy you only know as half-naked-bad-espresso guy shout your name from across the quad is a little startling. So I will leave you to your…” Sokka paused, trying to find the word which best articulated Zuko’s current atmosphere. “… brooding.” Sokka turned to go, beginning to plot his weaving course through the non-stop four-way traffic of students and teachers making their way across campus, trying not to be a little disappointed.
“Wait!” Sokka turned, eyes narrowing. “It’s only fair I know your name, since you have mine.” Was that a slight smile?
Sokka raised an eyebrow, before replying: “Sokka.” He began to make his way to the Commons again, beginning to smile. Maybe he hadn’t totally fucked this up after all. Except that all he had was a name and a face and a drink order. Well, not just that…
//
The rest of hell week passed by in a way which Zuko could only describe as chaotic. Jin took until preview night to grasp the character work he’d been trying to guide her to since rehearsal number two. Mai threatened their stage manager Soonja with a knife again. His ex, Jet, had decided everything was about him again even though Zuko had consciously casted him as one of the characters with the least time on stage. But, miraculously, as Zuko had found was the way with college theatre productions, everything came together mere minutes before they opened. The lead costumer had been able to alter Jet’s costume in time, Soonja had started carrying around a pepper spray to use on Mai – Zuko prayed that would be enough to keep the two of them working together until they could sort out whatever the fuck was going on between them – and all of the props which had disappeared over the course of rehearsals were found in a supply closet underneath the fucking stairs, which Zuko just, did not want to think about.
It was closing night, and Zuko was beyond proud. The set was fantastic, the costumes even better than what he had envisioned. Teo did not miss a single lighting or sound cue. The actors were barely recognizable as themselves, and the audience was sniffling by the end. Zuko watched from the back of the theatre, grinning as applause echoed throughout the space. Curtain call went off without a hitch, flowers presented to Soonja, to Mai, to Teo, to Zuko, by the cast. The stage lights dimmed, and the curtain closed. A whispered count, and all the cast and crew screamed. Another show closed, and they all let it out of their lungs, doubling over in laughter at the release and the sheer energy which remained on the stifling, freeing, perfect stage. Hugs went around, undergraduate seniors were tearing up, and rides to Sharis were being bartered for.
“Don’t forget to come help with strike after you finish chatting!” Zuko called as the actors began surging into dressing rooms before heading out to the lobby. Mai appeared at his side, and if Zuko hadn’t known her since childhood he would’ve missed the phantom smile in her eyes.
“You survived another show, huh?”
“We survived another show. You know I couldn’t’ve done it without you.”
“Eh.” Mai shrugged, but Zuko knew she was proud of the work she had done. “Go out and meet your fans.”
Zuko rolled his eyes. “Fellow theatre majors hardly count as fans.” But he let Mai propel him towards the door anyways, and pretended not to notice how quickly she turned to glare at Soonja across the stage. S’long as they didn’t do anything too destructive, they were not Zuko’s problem.
The lobby was packed full of students and families as actors began exiting from the door which led backstage. Flower bouquets were in arms and smiles were on faces. Zuko milled around, smiling at Ty Lee as she bounced up and down congratulating him, and rolling his eyes when Teo threatened to never roll into the theatre again after Zuko graduated. He exchanged hugs with undergraduate theatre majors and pats on the back from some of his professors.
“Hey, you’re really in your element here, huh?” Zuko turned, failing to suppress a smile.
“Sokka. You came.”
“Couldn’t miss my favorite customer’s show,” he winked.
“I accidentally went to your coffee stall one time,” Zuko replied.
“Ya, which makes it kinda creepy that I learned your name, found you on campus and showed up to the play you’re directing?” Zuko just rolled his eyes at this. “But that reminds me!” Sokka continues. “These… are for you.” Zuko gazed down on the three cake pops Sokka was offering him. “I forgot that flowers are sort of the thing you do for theatre until like the last minute and I was already running late so I just grabbed something from the coffee stall and –”
Zuko cut him off abruptly. He was not in the habit of kissing handsome young men without asking them first, but Sokka had come to his show, and brought him cake pops for some convoluted reason, and seemed to keep wanting to talk to Zuko even after he snapped at him. Gossiping actors be damned. Besides, Sokka’s hand was pressing against the small of his back, and his tongue was already seeking an opening into Zuko’s mouth, so it was probably okay.
A drawled question from Mai to his left made Zuko question his choices as he began to feel his cheeks burn red. He desperately tried to come up with a witty retort as Sokka began to laugh uncontrollably, before spotting Mai’s pale fingers intertwined with Soonja’s dark ones.
“Oh, so you guys finally figured it out?”
//
Sokka was brimming with pent-up energy. He had convinced himself going to the closing night of Zuko’s play was the best way to run into him again. Well, he also had three cake pops in a plastic bag and a piece of paper with his number on it this time, so maybe he wasn’t just looking to run into Zuko. The show was a bit heavy for Sokka’s taste, without much comedy to lift it into the realm of what Sokka would usually find himself viewing. But it certainly did seem the sort of project Zuko would immerse himself in, Sokka had to admit. The curtain closed, and Sokka immediately outed himself as a novice-theatre goer at the university when he nearly leapt out of his seat at the prolonged shrieking which echoed out from the stage once the cast and crew was hidden from view. At least there were a few other people who had never been to a closing night on campus who jumped along with Sokka. Theatre kids and their weird traditions.
Sokka allowed himself to be pulled out into the lobby by the crowd, slowly making his way through it until he was positioned in the corner furthest from the doors he had come out of. He noticed Zuko long before Zuko noticed him. He looked so happy, smiling with fellow students and even a few professors. Sokka waited for him to be standing relatively disconnected from any of the seemingly endless stream of people he was talking to before approaching him. “Hey, you’re really in your element here, huh?”
Zuko turned towards him, granting him one of the smiles being freely given out this evening. “Sokka. You came.”
“Couldn’t miss my favorite customer’s show.” Sokka winked, but his confidence was ebbing, and his heart was beginning to race like he’d had three red bulls. Well, he had, but it was still a good simile.
“I accidentally went to your coffee stall one time,” Zuko grinned.
“Ya, which makes it kinda creepy that I learned your name, found you on campus and showed up to the play you’re directing?” Sokka laughed nervously. Zuko just rolled his eyes at this. “But that reminds me!” Sokka continued before he could lose his nerve. “These… are for you.” Zuko gazed down on the three cake pops Sokka was offering him. “I forgot that flowers are sort of the thing you do for theatre until like the last minute and I was already running late so I just grabbed something from the coffee stall and –”
Zuko cut Sokka off abruptly. His first instinct was to wonder at the effectiveness of cake pops, and his second was to wonder about how soft Zuko’s lips were. He raised the hand not still clutching the cake pops to press against Zuko’s back, bringing him closer. He began to worm his tongue into Zuko’s mouth and felt him smile against his lips.
This oh-too-perfect-moment was interrupted by a dry voice somewhere to Sokka’s right. “So, how did you two meet?”