1. Chapter 1

Things To Do When You're Bored  
By Keelywolfe

Summary: This is set after the series, in some weird AU where Jet is around and Zuko is Fire Lord.

* * *

"I hate meetings," Sokka said morosely, slouching against the closed door. The long hallway that led to the main meeting room was echoing and empty, servants having much better sense than to linger in the boring center of the fire nation universe.

"You get bored too easily," Jet chided, leaning against his own side of the door. "We've barely been standing here fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen of the most boring minutes ever," Sokka sighed, letting his head fall back to thunk lightly on the hard wood. Not that he wanted to be inside, hell, no. He'd been to council meetings before and they were probably barely past all the formal slobbering required when one met the Fire Lord in the meeting chambers. Frankly, Sokka thought that someone came up with all these rules a thousand years ago as some sort of drunken joke that had stuck, but Zuko had just ignored him when he suggested it. Geez, you try to tell a guy his entire culture is weird and he gets all annoyed about it.

All that formal bullshit was how he and Jet ended up out here. After declaring that neither of them had the manners of a decently housebroken gopher-dog, Zuko had finally said that if they just had hang around playing bodyguards, then they could watch the doors. From the outside, thank you very much. It was just a shame that the long-suffering sigh that had gone along with his speech couldn't be transcripted for posterity because seriously, what guy could complain with such eloquence that his boyfriends were trying to keep him alive? Oh, sorry, his _consorts_, in the Fire Nation lingo which a lot of nobles seemed to think rhymed with whores.

Hey, it was a dirty job but someone had to do it. Unfortunately, doing it didn't take up nearly enough time so they had to improvise. Not that guard duty was a boatload of chuckles but hey, like they were going to trust the guard clones to keep watch on their own? Not a chance.

"This won't take long, anyway," Jet said idly. He had a small knife in his hands, neatly paring his nails and pausing to admire the effect. "He said maybe a half hour and then they have to--" he waved his freshly groomed hand idly, "I dunno. Do something else. I wasn't really paying attention."

"Yeah, me neither," Sokka turned to press an ear against the door and could barely hear the murmur of voices on the other side. "Probably something stupid and boring that--hey!"

Jet could move entirely too quickly for Sokka's continuing health and he'd taken advantage of that little quirk to come up behind Sokka and press him firmly against the door, his hips snugging themselves against Sokka's.

"Are you crazy?" Sokka hissed, squirming against his pinning weight. It didn't have quite the effect he was hoping for; Jet made a pleased little humming sound against the back of his neck, the hard ridge of his cock very obvious against Sokka's backside.

With his head practically mashed against it, he could hear faint movement, voices, just on the other side of the door. Could they be finished already, were they already going through the various bows and formalities?

It was hard to think with Jet's hand squirming beneath the layers of his clothes, into the front of his pants where he was already hard, the heat inside was like a furnace, like the way Zuko's hands always felt just after firebending and fuck, that was hot to think of, hands freshly steaming from holding flames stroking over Sokka's bare skin. Or over Jet's skin, yeah, like the night before, Jet over Zuko on their knees and Sokka had been watching, stroking himself as he watched the two of them writhing together. Zuko was even paler against Jet's darker tones and he'd watched them fucking, watched the sweat dripping on the fine silk of the sheets as Zuko had choked and tipped his head back against Jet's shoulder, biting just the tip of his tongue as he came.

That was the image in his mind as he thrust into the tight circle of Jet's fingers, his cheek sliding sweatily over the smooth wood of the door as Jet rocked hard against his ass.

"When he walks through that door, he'll be able to see it on your face," Jet breathed damply against his ear, riding against him as if their clothes were no more substantial than smoke, "You'll be all flushed and pretty, and he'll see it and he won't be able to do a damned thing. Can you picture it?"

Spirits, yes, he could, the faint widening of Zuko's eyes before they would narrow abruptly, glaring at Jet's smirking play-innocence and Sokka's blush. He'd have to walk on with his advisers even though he would be hard under his robes, walk on and leave Sokka and Jet to follow and maybe later, finally later, alone, they could push those robes aside and the two of them could find that hardness with their mouths, their tongues gliding together over hot, taut skin, they could--

"Mmph," Sokka moaned, shoving his wrist against his mouth to muffle it as he came into the warm cup of Jet's hand. He felt the soft exhalation on against the back of his neck, the faint shudder of the other boy and had to swallow against the bright surge of lust trying to struggle weakly back into him.

Suddenly, he was jerked away from the door, half staggering as Jet yanked him backwards and he barely managed to catch his balance before it opened, first the guards, their blank faces like mirrors of each other, and then the richly groomed nobles that Zuko had been meeting with. If he'd looked at their faces, Sokka could probably have guessed how the meeting went but as it was, he could barely stay upright much less play mental espionage.

Last, always last, save the safest place for me, baby, was Zuko, resplendent in Fire Lord finery that was a pain in the ass to get him out of and it was like déjà vu, the split second widening of his eyes, the shine of frustration that lit within them. The only thing Sokka hadn't pictured was Jet flicking a sly glance at the retreating backs of the nobles before lifting a hand to his mouth, licking it obscenely so that his tongue dipped between his fingers.

Okay, yeah, that? That was_real_ fire in the Fire Lord's eyes before he swept away, his expressionless guards trailing after him and they were both so going to pay for this. Not housebroken, neither one of them, but if you were going to lay down with gopherdogs, well, even a Fire Lord should prepare to get dirty.

Sokka sent a mental promise towards the rest of his fantasy, falling into step behind the guards and he even managed not to jump when Jet discreetly pinched him on the ass. Oh, yeah, Zuko was going to get plenty dirty tonight but later? He was making plans to show a certain earth kingdom pain in the ass exactly what kind of plans a water tribesmen could come up with when they were bored. Oh, yeah.

-finis-


	2. On Display

On Display  
By Keelywolfe  
Sokka/Zuko/Jet

* * *

Once, not all that like ago, the chambers of the Fire Lord had been lushly decorated; Squat carved tables and shelves loaded with porcelain knickynacks and dust catchers that probably had some sort of cultural significance that Sokka had never bothered to discover. Not that it really mattered because the first week after he and Jet had started sleeping in here on a regular basis, they'd all disappeared.

He might have taken insult at that, maybe some kind of not-so-subtle hint from the servants that they were probably thieves that were hocking the royal family treasures if it weren't for that fact that they'd broken at least three of them in that one week, including a very lovely, very old table that had been meant to take the weight of a delicate statue and not that of three people. None of it on purpose, of course; it was just that sometimes they bumped into things on their way to the bed and it was pretty damned hard to see with your face pressed against someone else's.

So, yeah, all the pretty, fragile things had vanished and in their place were some newer, sturdier tables and cushioned benches, including the one Jet and Sokka were sprawled on right now. Alone.

"We should have stayed," Sokka said, a little grumpily. His feet were in Jet's lap and the other boy was stroking his foot thoughtfully, not quite enough to tickle.

"We should have," Jet agreed, just this side of testy. He pressed his thumb into the ball of Sokka's foot, ignoring his hiss of pain that slowly eased into relief. Whoever designed the boots that the Fire Nation people wore hadn't made a friend in Sokka. "If we had," Jet continued, "He would be here right now and we wouldn't be worrying about him."

"Yeah," Sokka said unhappily, dropped his head back to rest on the arm of their sofa. Zuko had had to attend a formal dinner and at the time, Sokka had thought it was the epitome of kindness that he hadn't insisted on Sokka and Jet coming. Not that he was ashamed of them, but he knew how much they hated all the schmoosing that went with it, all of the subtle digs and ever since that one where a drunken noble had propositioned Sokka

_(Hey, I heard Water Tribe boys are good with their mouths, is that true, boy?)_

and Jet had cut off the man's topknot along with a good portion of his clothes...well, it was probably just better for all concerned that they stayed away.

Only, it was already very late, the stars had been brilliantly overhead for hours now and they were still waiting up. If they'd gone, it would have been easier for Zuko to beg off earlier, since the threat of public sex usually got him moving pretty fast for the doors.

Speaking of doors, the one to their chambers swung open and one decidedly exhausted Fire Lord made his way through it, already stripping out of his outer robe.

"I was really expecting you two to be asleep by now," Zuko said tiredly, tugging his hair loose as he quietly kicked the door closed. It was getting quite long, a silky curtain dark as the deepest water that fell past his shoulders. Sokka's imagination was already wrist deep in that softness but then reality slapped him in the face as he watched Zuko toe off his shoes, nearly staggering in his exhaustion.

Resigning himself to a serious lack of sex, Sokka smothered a sigh and stood, bare feet patting lightly against the carpets. "Here, let me help you--"

He barely had a chance to squeak out a protest before he was facedown on the rugs, both his hands held crossed at the wrists in the small of his back, and that soft hair was pooling over his shoulder as Zuko licked at his ear, his smirk pressed into Sokka's neck.

"You jerk!" Sokka snarled, trying to twist his wrists out of Zuko's hand. But his grip was firm, holding both his hands in one of his own and he could feel Zuko laughing softly, soft breath like a caress.

"That's not properly respectful to your Lord," Zuko chided, mockingly. Yeah, like he and Jet both hadn't heard that a hundred times. A day.

"Let me up and I'll show some respect on your ass."

"No, I think I like you right here." He pushed a knee between Sokka's legs and forcing them apart despite his struggles.

"Why am I always the one who ends up face down on the carpet," Sokka complained, wriggling irritably. All he succeeded in doing was rubbing his ass against the front of Zuko's pants and that probably wouldn't get him released any time soon.

"A few reasons," Zuko had a hand beneath him now, working at the ties of his pants and Sokka gave in and lifted his hips a little to help. Might as well go with it, since there was a fair chance there would be an orgasm at the end if he did. Or well, there would be one if he didn't, too, but the former tended to be faster.

"One, Jet never falls for it. Two, it's in your nature to try to help."

"Yeah, you can never stand to see pathetic creatures suffer," Jet called over, snickering.

Zuko seemed to be ignoring him but Sokka could picture the sour glare he was sending in that direction. "And three," nuzzled against his ear. "You like it."

It was on the tip of his tongue to protest that no, he did not like to do this on the floor, no matter how soft and plushy the carpets were, thank you very much, but with Zuko's warm hand wrapped around his cock, fingertips lightly teasing the tip, his argument didn't quite seem worth making.

"Jet, come here," Zuko said, softly, his breath ruffling Sokka's hair. There was a ring of authority in his voice and this was how he sounded when he commanded his subjects, and every one of them would jump at his command, resentfully or otherwise.

He heard Jet slide off the bench, the light pad of his feet on the carpeted floor as he walked over to them, "Of course, _sire_, what would you have me do, _sire_?" Jet mocked, sliding to his knees in front of them. He'd abandoned his shirt hours before when they'd first gotten here and it was still tangled with Sokka's in a crumpled ball in the corner.

A thumb pressed against Sokka's lips and he parted them automatically, letting it slide just inside to rest briefly against his tongue before it withdrew, rubbing wetly over his lips.

"Let him suck you," Zuko whispered, licking a wet stripe up Sokka's cheek to his ear where a tiny gold hoop hung. It had been a gift, one of the very few Sokka had accepted. He caught it between his teeth, tugging gently. "Let me watch."

Sokka struggled just a little, tugging at Zuko's grip on his wrists just to feel it tighten. It was like a game he used to play as a child, clamoring and wrestling with the Katara until one could pin the other, rubbing their face in the snow until they cried uncle, but if Zuko wanted him to plead for mercy, wanted to watch him do this, Sokka would concede.

No, Jet never fell for it, never let anyone dominate him, but Sokka would and did, would give either of them what they needed, even if they would never ask. They didn't have to ask.

He let his lips part, felt Jet's fingertips touch lightly under his chin, tipping his head up. The slick tip of Jet's cock glanced off his mouth, the clear salt heat wetting his lips and he opened for it, let the heavy bulk of it pry his mouth open.

One hand under his chin and another still tight on his wrists, a third threading through his hair, following the curve of his head as Jet sighed above him. Three hands holding him still, and he could feel the heaviness of Zuko's breath on the back of his neck, his free hand rising up to cup Sokka's cheek so he could feel Jet gliding in and out, his forefinger light on Sokka's lower lip, barely touching them both.

Cool air touched his backside, Zuko managing to tug his pants down even without his help but it was hard for Sokka to pay attention to that. All his focus was on the hot thickness in his mouth, on the soft sounds Jet was making over him, his hand tight on the back of Sokka's head as he pushed forward, thrusting almost too deep, almost rude, but Sokka could go along with it, working his tongue hard on the tip just to hear Jet choke.

He didn't realize his hands were free until he felt Zuko's both on his hips, hauling him up on his knees but by then it was too late to protest; he braced himself on hands that were still numb and tingling from Zuko's punishing grip when Zuko pressed himself into the cleft of Sokka's ass, sliding inside. The angle wasn't good and it wasn't quite slick enough, but the sound Zuko made, a deep, vibrating groan that Sokka could feel inside made it worth it because he loved it, loved this. He loved them, loved both of them even if he couldn't say it.

Jet's little whimpers were starting to take on an edge of desperation, words faltering from his mouth as he shoved in deeper, his hand brutally tight in Sokka's hair. "Fuck, yeah, that's it. Take it, you want it, _take_ it, you bastard, fuck him hard, Zuko, come on!"

For someone who gave orders regularly, Zuko also seemed to take them pretty well, pulling out just enough to shove in, hard, and Sokka drew in a sharp breath through his nose, trying not to choke, trying not to get shoved forward as Zuko withdrew and then in again with enough force that his hips slapped into Sokka's ass, again. He felt fumbling on the back of his head, Zuko and Jet linking hands, sweaty palms against his equally sweaty hair and he sucked hard, working his mouth up and down, trying to get Jet just a little deeper into his throat. Jet cursed, loud and crude, and a shudder went through him, rigid trembling that was all the warning Sokka got before hot bitterness spurting over his tongue.

He swallowed quickly, desperately, letting Jet slide free enough that he could duck his head and fumble a hand between his own legs, stroking his erection hard and it was just in time, Zuko's own sharply indrawn breath made the sensation unraveling inside him spark, lighting a fire all its own behind his eyes and Sokka didn't bother trying to muffle his shout as he came, dripping wet over his own fingertips and the surge of slick heat inside him was the best possible ending, warming him all the way through.

Sokka had no idea how long he was lying on the carpet, but when he finally blinked, eyelashes rubbing against the thick weave beneath him, he noticed that his legs were pins and needles numb from Zuko's weight and Jet was lying beside him, sucking wet kisses down his shoulder.

"Mrgh?" Sokka managed, grimacing as he lifted his head from the spreading patch of saliva he'd been drooling. The mess beneath his hips was worse but really, it wasn't worth thinking about. It wasn't like he cleaned the carpets in this place.

"Yeah, a bath sounds good," Jet said agreeably.

"I don't think I can move," Zuko mumbled against Sokka's back. There was wetness there as well and, okay, Sokka would let both of them dirty him up with one bodily fluid only and drool wasn't it. He heaved Zuko off his back and staggered to his feet.

"Sleep on the floor then," Sokka yawned, stumbling in the direction of the bathroom with Jet close behind. "Jet and I are going to get clean."

"Disrespectful," Zuko grumbled but he managed to get to his feet, trailing after them. Get clean, get dirty, get clean again. Sokka was just fine with that. He thought that naked bodies made better display pieces than any fire nation knickyknack could ever hope to, anyway.

-finis-


	3. Shelter

Shelter  
By Keelywolfe

* * *

The worst part about the inner chambers of the palace, Zuko had long since decided, was the lack of windows. Hours drifted by with astonishing speed and all too often he'd look up and find the entire day gone and still there was so much to be done, so many people to be heard, advisors and nobles, ambassadors and leaders, a never ending stream of things that needed to be done, all of them with the greatest of urgency.

Tonight, Zuko had been alerted by his snarling stomach and he'd finally dismissed them all, only allowing his personal guards to remain as he hid a yawn, stretching legs that ached from kneeling before he began the long walk to his private quarters.

The walk through the palace woke him up a little, the evening lanterns already being lit by servants who all turned and bowed as he passed. It surprised him how few memories he really had of this place, fewer still that he'd cherish. His more recent ones were singularly unpleasant and those that weren't were foggy with age, yellow-edged and colorless with the passage of time.

Once that might have bothered him but now, he was too busy making new memories to care. Someone, two someones, who didn't want him to die were waiting for him and he was eager to be with them. At the doors to his quarters, his guards bowed him in before they took their places and he nodded in return, sighing mentally in relief to finally be rid of them. They were a necessary irritation, to be sure, but still an irritation.

Shedding his long formal robes, Zuko slipped off his shoes and left them at the door, his bare feet silent on the carpets as he walked through the empty main room. The balcony doors were standing open, a stream of red-tinged evening sunlight pouring through it. Stepping out, he could see Jet leaning against the railing, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked out into the courtyard.

"You're late," Jet said calmly, not looking up. No accusation, only a simple statement of fact.

"Yeah," Zuko agreed. Jet's clothes were clinging to him damply, his hair twisted in wet tufts, obviously fresh from the bath. Probably he shouldn't ask why Jet had needed to bathe so early in the evening. Only the obvious cause was no where in sight. "Where's Sokka?"

"Training." He gestured down into the courtyard and Zuko could just make out Sokka's slim frame, his easy swing of his sword as he went through his forms. "He does pretty good for a guy who never owned a sword until this year."

"How's his leg?" Zuko asked softly, watching as Sokka moved fluidly, no sign that only a few months before he'd been hobbling around on crutches.

"Not bad. He limps a little when he's tired," Jet said, bracing his elbows against the railing. "Nothing that you need to worry about, your_highness_."

"Jet." Resignedly; the bitterness in Jet's words was brittle green and familiar.

"What?" he scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll play nice for them," he jerked his head in the direction of the sprawling city surrounding them. "But I won't fake it for you. Deal with it or don't. I won't lie to you or for you, Zuko."

"I would never ask you to," Zuko said softly. He leaned against the railing next to him, close enough to feel Jet's body heat but not enough to touch.

The other boy only scowled, slouching back on one elbow as he yanked a little at his loose collar with two fingers. "How do you people live in this heat, anyway? I've washed up twice today and I still feel like I'm sweating blood."

"I could send for--"

"If you say someone to fan me or something, I'm going to shove a foot up your ass," Jet said amicably, eyes closed as he tipped his head back to catch a faint breeze.

"I was going to say a cold drink, but if you want to shove something up my ass, I could probably manage that, too."

Jet's mouth curved into a familiar smile. "In a minute." He glanced over his shoulder before turning around abruptly, his eyes avid. Zuko blinked and followed his gaze to see Sokka stripping out of his shirt.

"Ahhhh, there," Jet sighed. "That's what I'm talking about." His normal smirk redoubled in warmth, eyes tracing the lines of Sokka's bare chest and yeah, it was something to see, glistening lines of sweat sliding down bare skin and long ropes of muscle moving beneath it as he picked up his sword again, but--

"You've been watching all this time just to see Sokka's bare chest?" Zuko asked dubiously.

"It's the simple things that make life worth living. Besides, what else can I do in this hellhole?"

"Jet," Zuko started, faltering a little as Jet turned angry eyes his way.

"Don't you go soft on me," he snapped. "I don't need your fucking apologies; I stay here because I choose to. It's not your fault I'm bored today." Abruptly his eyes heated with something else, his mercurial temperament shifting as quickly as his smile, his gaze drifting down Zuko's body. It was instinctive to shift with it, slipping one arm behind his back to give Jet a better view.

"But hey, if you want to help me with that, that's okay too," Jet murmured, sliding to his knees.

Zuko closed his eyes, shifting his grip to the railing as Jet loosened his sash, letting the thin silk fall to the floor before he pushed Zuko's tunic off his shoulders to follow it. "Sokka will be able to see."

"Good, maybe he'll hurry his ass back up here," Jet murmured, tugging at the ties to Zuko's pants before he complained, "How do you wear so many clothes in this heat? And don't you dare remind me that you're a firebender, I like trying to forget."

"I can't change who I am," Zuko's voice caught on a gasp, the wet touch of Jet's tongue low on his belly was cool on his overheated skin.

"Who asked you to?" Jet asked, his faintly chapped lips brushing against Zuko's navel and then they were gone. He blinked a little, looking down, but by the time he realized Jet had moved, his sash was already wrapped around one wrist, tied firmly to the railing.

"What are you--" Zuko started, not quite protesting. That was his mistake and if it had been anyone else, it might have been a fatal one. As it was, he felt a little trill of wariness low in his stomach as Jet jerked him around, bending him over the railing before quickly tying his other wrist.

"There, now that's a good view," Jet's laughter was just this side of mocking, enough that Zuko flushed, wondering at how he would look to anyone glancing up at the balcony. To Sokka who he could no longer see in the growing darkness, none of the lanterns in the garden were lit. Wrists tied, his pants sliding off his hips, not quite exposed but Jet took care of that with a quick jerk, only Zuko's spread legs kept them from falling to his ankles.

It would barely take a snap of his fingers to burn the thin silk away and they both knew it, but Zuko only ducked his head, catching his breath as Jet's hands slid down his hips, stroking bare skin.

"Why do you have to be so fucking gorgeous?" Jet murmured, his breath a soft caress just below Zuko's shoulder blade. He didn't know how to answer that, already so hard he was aching and Jet's mouth moved lower, left a trail of spit to cool and dry as he mouthed damp kisses into Zuko's hip, nipping lightly at the curve of one ass cheek. "How am I supposed to leave the two of you here in this hellhole and go anywhere else?"

"Jet," Zuko managed, his voice creaky and low and, gods, Jet's mouth was against him, his tongue moving in a slippery little dance, licking him until the strength left his knees and he would have fallen if it weren't for the bindings on his wrists, Jet's hands firm on his hips.

"Hold still," Jet murmured, his breath like a tease against damp skin. The pressure of a finger sliding into him, not quite slick enough, made Zuko draw a breath but even the burn felt good, Jet's tongue wiggling next to his finger, slick and wrong, and nothing so _wrong_ should feel so perfect, like riding the edge of insanity. He could taste the sweat beading on his upper lip, the falling darkness bringing no cooling relief from the heat of the day and he hadn't even really felt it until just this minute, his clenched fists damp and his hair clinging to his shoulders.

He'd forgotten everything, that Sokka might be watching, that anyone might seem him like this, all his focus on the flickering tease of Jet's tongue and he pushed back against it shamelessly, trying for more, and he nearly sobbed when Jet pulled away. Shaking hands caught his hips again, yanking him back a step while a booted foot kicked his own further apart. The hot, slick pressure of Jet's cock against him made him lurch back with embarrassing eagerness, only the grip on his hips keeping him still as Jet sank into him in one long, deep thrust.

"Beautiful," Jet whispered, his face buried between Zuko's shoulder blades, sliding in the cushion of sweat between them. His pants were rubbing friction into Zuko's bare skin, his own pants a hobbling annoyance at his knees but he could still shove backwards, force Jet deeper inside him hard enough to make the other boy grunt, his nails digging into Zuko's hips hard enough that later he would find little crescent-shaped bruises embedded in his skin.

"Nngg!" Jet snarled, one arm wrapping tightly around Zuko to still him, "You bastard, you want it? I'll give it to you."

The next thrust was hard enough to lift Zuko on his toes, forcing him to lean over the railing as Jet rammed into him. Leverage was useless, his hands clenching on thin air and a thin whine escaped from between his clenched teeth, embarrassingly loud in the still evening air if Zuko had had any presence of mind to feel anything but the harsh stretch of Jet inside him, the tiny grunts that escaped him echoed in Zuko's ear in the same rhythm of the slap of their hips together. The light behind his eyes was going warm and golden, flames begging to lick at his fingertips and only the knowledge that if Jet saw it this would stop let him contain it, that brilliant heat reversing and carrying inward, burning in his belly as Zuko bit his lip and let the pleasure swamp over him. Dimly, he heard Jet's little whimpers edge into frantic, one last hard thrust inside him that ended with a wash of hot wetness.

Jet's heavy weight on his back was more than his shaking knees could support and they both sank down to the floor, his wrists protesting the angle sharply enough that Zuko winced in pain, worse when Jet slipped out of him and left him sore as hell, saliva just about the worst lube that anyone could offer.

Before he could ask, he felt slim fingers working on the bindings, rubbing his wrist tenderly as the shock of blood moving back into his fingers brought their own pain.

"You're an ass, Jet," Sokka said shortly, moving to untie Zuko's other wrist. He rubbed it as well, easing the circulation back to normal.

Jet only laughed weakly, sprawled out on the cooler stone of the balcony floor. "He loved it. You're just jealous it wasn't you."

"Maybe," Sokka said, sliding down behind Zuko and wrapping his arms around him. It wasn't that Zuko actually wanted after-sex cuddling but if he had, then Sokka would always be the one to offer. "But anyone could have seen that. Don't we have enough trouble as it is?"

That was enough to pull Jet to his knees, his belt jangling loosely, his pants barely hiked up enough for modesty. His grin was as sharp as a knife-edge, "I won't pretend for you either, Sokka." He licked his lips, slowly, enough that Zuko could feel the response in Sokka against his back. It made him smile, tiredly.

"If you still want to play, could we do it inside where it's cooler," Zuko broke in, quietly, and Sokka shifted against him, burying his face into Zuko's neck and inhaling deeply.

"Yeah, I want to play," Sokka said roughly. "You're an ass, too, you know. I just got to watch the two of you fucking while I was in the garden."

"You did watch," Jet laughed. "I knew he would."

"Only a little. It was either watch and come in my pants, or run up the stairs," Sokka scowled, nuzzling against Zuko's ear to murmur, "I'd rather come in you."

"Mmph," Zuko mumbled agreeably. He felt sticky and sore already, swampy-wet with sweat and come, but he'd let Sokka do anything, anything at all. He'd let either of them.

."--and I can smell him on you. I want to be right inside where he was, I want to have you on your knees, I want--"

Anything, he'd always give them anything, he thought sleepily, listening to Sokka detail all the filthy, wrong things he wanted to do and Zuko would let him.

He'd give them anything, so long as they both stayed.

-finis-


	4. Chasing Sanity

Chasing Sanity

By Keelywolfe

* * *

From a distance, the walls of the Fire Nation palace seemed magnificent, rooftops pushing up towards the sky as if they'd sprouted whole from the baked earth of the dormant volcano. It was only up close that you could see that the bricks were the same as anywhere, rough clay covered by paint and pretend majesty. Lies covering truth, the way the Fire Nation always was.

A palace of dreams made of hardbaked mud.

It wasn't often that Jet allowed himself to see it as it was, those lie-bound walls holding him in. To him, it was a prison, a magnificent prison but one nonetheless, and when he did let himself notice, gave the tiny voice in the back of his head free reign, the walls seemed to push in on him, strangling him with their closeness.

Sometimes, when he was sitting here dressed finely in the clothes of the Fire Nation, Jet allowed himself the niggling suspicion that he was insane.

Sitting here in the courtyard where the breeze was sweetest, waiting for Zuko and watching Sokka reenact their invasion on the day of the eclipse with bits of stone and flower buds, Jet felt the full weight of the prison around him and distantly considered the state of his sanity.

Not that it would be a surprise, perhaps not to anyone. He'd been shattered as a kid, had put himself back together with chubby, childish fingers and freedom fighters, only to be splintered again by his own people. When a crude puzzle was strewn apart enough times, it made sense that a piece or two might go missing in the process.

Maybe it explained why he was here, or why he was still here, long after he'd first come. He'd only wanted to see if the rumors were true, if that boy he'd seen before with eyes that glittered like metal shavings was actually a Firebender like he'd suspected. He'd known, hadn't he, he'd been right, and that might have been satisfying enough.

Until he'd learned the truth and the truth had been worse than he could have imagined, worse than anything. Not just a Firebender, but a prince, son of the Fire Lord who had...had...

And when Jet had seen him again Zuko _(Li, his mind whispered sometimes, still) _had been Fire Lord himself. Kneeling in his throne room, surrounded in the flames, and it was _fire_, the taste of ashes thick in his throat and if Jet closed his eyes he could remember--

No.

Zuko and Sokka, together, trying to lead the Fire Nation into peace, and somewhere in the whirlwind of seeing them, of seeing the truth, Jet had ended up staying.

And now he was here, playing guard to the Fire Lord during the day and playing lover to him at night. Playing games, always games, never accepting a single gift or trinket, no matter how costly or cheap. Clothes he took as his due payment for being a body guard, food, a bed, but he was not here for the Fire Nation to coddle and pet, and the servants had long ago learned to leave him be. He preferred it, rarely spoke to anyone who wasn't Sokka or Zuko.

He was here to keep Zuko alive and that was all. And if he was fucking their Fire Lord, leaving sweet bruises on that porcelain-fine skin, then he would call that a long overdue payment.

"Are you even paying attention," Sokka broke into his thoughts impatiently, kneeling on the ground in his own Fire Nation uniform, the clean lines of it broken by the necklace he still wore. Water Tribe, it stated plainly. He wasn't hiding who he was for anyone, either.

Sokka, who was only part of this in the periphery. Being with Sokka was a less bitter reward and more of a way for the universe to balance his karma. Sokka kept him steady, kept him sane, kept him from feeling those walls so closely.

Carefully, Jet took the wheat stalk from his mouth and did not allow himself to think that Fire Nation wheat tasted just the same as home. "Baby, I always pay attention to you."

A brilliant rush of crimson flooded Sokka's cheeks and it made Jet smirk, made it easy to push back that squabbling, clamoring voice that demanded to know why he was here, why, why he hadn't slit that pale throat yet in the night and let a rush of scarlet stain the pure white of their shared sheets, why, why--

I won't, he told himself. I won't hurt him, either of them. Not when he was with Sokka, whom he suspected knew and with Zuko, who did know, who _knew_ and still slept with ease, would bare his throat to Jet, and who would duel with him, neither of them showing mercy. They knew him and still let him stay, and he wasn't about to abuse that trust. Not this time.

But that whimpering little voice in the back of his head was still there, whispering for his attention and Jet had to push it ruthlessly aside, clambering to his knees and reaching for the other boy, ignoring Sokka's indignant protest as his 'stone and flower' battle map was scattered. It turned quickly into a horrified, furiously whispered protest that they were in the middle of the courtyard, anyone could walk in and see them.

Jet ignored it all, stripped Sokka down to his bare skin and the grass here was as green as home, and soft and sweet-smelling, and that niggling little voice was fainter and fainter as he pushed himself between Sokka's spread legs, listened to words disappearing into moans.

Sokka might protest, but he was hard against Jet's belly, and easy, twined his ankles behind Jet's knees and arched up into every thrust. Easy to kiss, biting at his soft, eager lips,_easy_, and Zuko was the same. Both of them would let Jet do anything, _anything_, and it made him want to scream at them at times, because were they crazy, didn't they know what he could _do_?

"Yeah, yeah, that's good," Sokka whimpered, one hand between his legs stroking himself and the other clutching Jet's arm, blue eyes closed, so trusting, and Jet hitched up his legs a little further and pushed into him as hard as he could. Hot inside, not as hot as Zuko, but tight, and good, and it didn't take long, not nearly long enough before he was spilling into Sokka, sweat pooling in the small of his back from the heat of the sun.

He expected Sokka to push him away when it was over, teasing words already forming on the tip of his tongue and was surprised when Sokka clutched him instead, tangled his hands into Jet's loose hair. No topknot, not for him, never, and the feel of Sokka's slim fingers sifting through his hair made him close his eyes, rest his head on Sokka's shoulder and hold on.

Imprisoned by walls, imprisoned in Sokka's arms, Sokka, who maybe knew, and Jet didn't let himself wonder if maybe it didn't matter where he was. Maybe he carried that particular prison with him.

He didn't wonder, the voice inside him silent for a just a little while, and soon he'd feel another hand on his back, pale fingertips tracing down his sweat-slick back, and this, this wasn't a lie. This was real.

Jet would make sure of that.

-finis-


End file.
