Chapter Text
It was awkward for a few days after Zuko’s birthday and Zhao could only blame himself. It was obvious Zuko was avoiding him. He’d barely speak to Zhao, electing for grunts and nudges when he could get away with it and using single words or phrases when he couldn’t.
But Zhao had hoped Zuko would forget about it eventually and they could go back to their old dynamic.
They could ignore Zhao’s untimely confession and let it die down until... until...
Well, until perhaps, maybe, Zhao could try again.
But even that hope crumbled when, having just found an inn to stay the night and with sunset pouring through the windows, Zuko finally confronted him.
“I think we need a break.”
Zhao raised his head to see Zuko standing at the doorway, as gorgeous as ever, as heartbreakingly beautiful as he’d always been, as fierce and strong and determined and –
A fool, he thought. The most foolish person in the Fire Nation. The world, perhaps. Not Zuko, but Zhao. Zhao, who always reached for the unattainable. Zhao, who always believed he was meant for greatness. Zhao, who had thought destiny had carved his name amongst the legends.
But humility brought him to a heel, dashing his thoughts that perhaps, maybe, there was a chance Zuko could...
Could...
He pushed his thoughts to the very back of his mind, compressing it into a tiny box that he could lament over in solitude.
“A break?”
Discomfit clung to Zuko, and it was more than unfair how it didn’t detract from his features.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep this up,” Zuko said. “At least, for a bit.”
Zhao could feel something twisting in his gut, a clench that made him unsure if he should run from this conversation or face it head on.
“Because look, the sex is great, alright? But that’s what it started out as and that’s all it was ever supposed to mean; sex.” Zuko continued, unaware he was methodically tearing Zhao apart. “But then after everything that has happened, I don’t... I think I’m a mess right now, Zhao. I know we were going to give ourselves three months to figure things out, but I don’t know what I want. We’ve been aimlessly wandering and we’re using each other to ignore everything that’s happening around us.”
“We’re not -” Zhao began protesting.
“No,” Zuko interrupted. “We are. I’ve... I’ve done a lot of thinking, Zhao. When we’re angry, we fuck. When we argue, we fuck. When we feel guilty, we fuck. We’re not doing anything productive, we’re estranged from everyone around us, and for what? There’s...” Zuko threw his hands up. “There has to be something out there. Something more than us. Our destiny isn’t meant to be wandering the Fire Nation, hiding and hoping that if we ignore everything for long enough, we’ll somewhat make it in life.”
Zhao could only stare at Zuko, stricken.
Of course it wasn’t enough. And he knew what Zuko meant, but it made his mind twist itself into thinking Zhao wasn’t enough.
“So what do you want to do?” Zhao rasped. “Find the Avatar again?”
“No,” Zuko said, his voice wavering. “No. I... I have a different lead. I didn’t tell you this, but Uncle had left me something back in Ba Sing Se. It’s... it’s the crown prince’s headpiece. You know, the one that was lost during Sozin’s reign?”
Of course Iroh of all people would be hiding an ancient relic up his sleeves. Possibly literally up his sleeves what with how voluminous they were.
“And what do you want to do with it?” Zhao asked, calmer than he thought he’d be.
“There’s something more to it,” Zuko insisted. “I don’t know what it is, but I need to find out. I have a hunch, a feeling, a – a- something that’s telling me there’s more. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s the same feeling I had when I found the Avatar, when I...” he blushed then. “When I trusted you enough to go to the North.”
Oh. Something indescribable lodged itself in Zhao’s throat.
“Right,” he choked. “So. You want a break, is that it?”
Zuko gnawed on his lip nervously, eyes darting about. “For a bit, yes. There’s too much going on and I don’t want to deal with more, so…”
Of course, Zhao thought bitterly, love was a terribly weight to carry, especially when it was unwanted.
Still, never one to show a glimpse of vulnerability after he’d been spurned, he said, voice frighteningly calm even to his own ears, “Alright. A break, then. Sure, I’m up for it.”
“Are you sure?”
No.
Despite everything screaming at him to refuse and confess all over again, Zhao caged the want behind his teeth and said, “Yes. It would be best for our priorities to change, anyway. We can’t be spending the rest of our lives wandering aimlessly.”
A hopeful smile tinged Zuko’s lips, and damn Zhao for relishing the sight despite his heart steadily cracking into two.
“I’m... I’m really glad you’re still tagging along. And hey.” Zuko said, his smile now wavering somewhat. “Between someone who found a supposedly mythical library and someone who found the Avatar, I think we stand a pretty good chance finding some answers, don’t you think?”
I’ll follow you. Zhao wanted to say. I’ll follow you wherever you go. Not because I care about the Avatar. Not because I care about this fucked up world. But because I care about you.
Because I want more than you could ever give me – ever want to give me – so if this is how I can have you, I will take it.
Distantly, in a hazy epiphany, Zhao thought maybe... maybe he didn’t know how to love without driving people away. Why should he have thought differently when it had been the theme throughout his entire life?
Zhao cleared his throat, fighting to keep his voice, such a brittle thing it felt in his throat, from breaking, “I, uh, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’d like some time to myself for a bit.”
Concern immediately made its way back into Zuko’s face. “Does… does this have anything to do with –”
“No,” Zhao cut him off hurriedly, unsure how long he could keep this up. He only knew he needed to get himself out of this situation. A drink sounded good right now. A whole bottle sounded even better. “No. Nothing to do with that. It’s… er, I felt like going out for a drink.” In order to retain normalcy, he offered, dearly hoping Zuko would refuse, “You can join me if you want.”
Zuko’s furrowed brow relaxed again. “Oh! Oh, alright. No, it’s fine, thanks. I think I’ll turn in early tonight, actually.”
“Alright,” Zhao said, relieved and on the brink of breaking. “Don’t wait up for me. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
Zhao fled.
There were distinct types of people who stayed at bars to drink into the early hours of the morning. There were even fewer who attempted to drink themselves blind.
The regretful.
The avoiders.
The heartbroken.
Guess which fucking one Zhao was.
Zhao tossed back the last bit of sake in his glass, immediately signalling for another. He was fairly sure at the rate he was going, he’d have drained the entire bottle himself before the night was over. The bartender was more than familiar with their routine now, not batting an eye as she grabbed his cup, topped it up, and slid it back towards him.
Before his fingers could touch the chilled glass, she warned him softly, pity in her eyes, “Might want to take it easy from here on out, sir. You’ll be feeling it soon.”
“Thanks.” Zhao said gruffly, the advice not having the time to settle into his mind before he’d thrown it out again.
A figure suddenly plopped down on the stool next to him. A male omega, and for a moment, Zhao’s breath stuttered in his throat when he caught sight of inky black hair and pale skin. It was the bronze eyes that dislodged the breath and dropped a weight back down in his gut.
Not Zuko.
Wavy black hair.
Bronze eyes.
Button nose.
The omega, with a pink flush across his cheeks, leaned forward, alcohol laden on his breath, and asked, “You here with anyone?”
A redundant question. No one would be here for a night of romance.
“No.” Zhao said, sipping his drink. He leaned back slightly, careful about his balance, to eye the omega up carefully.
“Cool.” A flash of a smile, fangs glinting in the dull light. “Look, I’ll be blunt. I’ve got an itch to scratch and you seem like you could help me scratch it. What do you say?”
Forward. He liked that. He liked it when someone beat around the bush. He tried to ignore the image of someone else who was just as straightforward.
“I don’t know,” Zhao drawled. “Are you clean? On birth control? Got contraceptives?”
The omega’s eyes hooded. “I’m clean. On suppressants and birth control. You don’t need to worry about anything other than showing me a good time.”
This was probably a stupid idea. A broken heart, coupled with several drinks in his system, and a horny omega to top it all off. But his logic was overridden, the need to feel something other than a dull throb stifling any protests his mind came up with.
Zhao swallowed the remaining contents of his drink, slid enough coins to cover his tab over the counter, and stood up, thankful the room didn’t start swaying.
“Let’s go.”
A sultry smile, and the omega grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the bar and onto the quiet streets, where they half-walked half-stumbled their way through winding alleys, stopping every so often to press the other up against a wall and kiss the breath out of their lungs.
A hand curled around his nape, the omega laughing lightly when Zhao nipped at his bottom lip, teeth grazing over sensitive flesh. His lips were fuller than Zuko’s, he didn’t respond to Zhao the same way, and he was not Zuko.
Perfect, Zhao tried to fool himself.
“You're a rough kisser, huh?” the omega hummed, tilting his head to accept another open-mouthed press of their lips.
“That a problem?” he rasped.
“No.” Half-lidded eyes, so different to Zuko’s. “I don’t know your name, though.”
Before he could think better of it, he answered, “Zhao. Yours?”
The omega grinned impishly. “You can call me whatever you want.”
The whole point of sleeping with a random omega was to forget a certain omega.
“I’d prefer your name,” Zhao said. “If you’re willing to give it.”
“I’m Tailo. You can call me Tai.” The omega – Tai – trailed his fingers to dip beneath his collar. The pads of his fingers were too soft. But soft was good, soft was everything Zu – he – wasn’t.
They eventually managed to fumble their way into Tai’s home, barely registering the darkened hallways, the creak of a bedroom door, and then the thump of their bodies as they landed on the bed, clothes half stripped away.
He skimmed the scent of cinnamon, a little bit of ginger. Something sweet, something spicy, a similar concoction to that of fire lilies and hearth fire. Zhao ignored it, mouthing at the soft curve of a jaw, pressing kisses against the left side of the omega’s face, noting unblemished skin.
Pulling away for just a moment, Zhao murmured, “I’m a biter. How do you feel about marks?”
An aroused shiver, bronze eyes darkening. “Leave as many as you’d like.”
Zhao surged forward, teeth sinking into a delicate collarbone. At the same time, he managed to shirk the omega’s clothes the rest of the way off, palming his way downwards, first grazing shoulders, then along his ribs, and finally settling on a slender waist and slightly flared hips as characteristic of all male omegas.
When Zhao’s fingers dipped towards Tai’s entrance, it felt slick and pliant. An eager opening, but when he slid his fingers inside, it simply wasn’t the same. Zhao ignored it, seeking out the omega’s sweet spots. They weren’t quite in the same places as Zuko’s were, and he didn’t know why he expected it to be the same.
He figured it out soon enough. The angle was a little lower but when he brushed against it, a keening cry escaped Tai’s mouth. He wasn’t shy about noise, generous with letting them escape him in a rhythm of moans and sighs.
Zhao’s body was sluggish to respond, and though it registered an interested omega, it wasn’t as eager to get things going as it did when it was Zuko lying beneath him, golden eyes lidded, lips parted, flashes of tongue darting out occasionally.
It was this image that made his cock stir, and he hated himself all the more for it. Even now with an obviously aroused omega, it was still Zuko who held his libido in his clutches, it was still the thought of Zuko that spurred Zhao’s lusts.
The hand wrapping around his cock was coated in slick, and it smelled sweet, but it didn’t smell familiar. The motions tugging at him were full of expertise, but they didn’t know what he liked. They didn’t tease at his head, didn’t trail along the underside with demure touches, didn’t have the same firm feel of callused fingertips.
“Hey…” the voice prompted Zhao out of his self-loathing, and for a moment, he startled when he didn’t recognise the breathy call. Tai stared up at him, not Zuko, and it was Tai who wetted his lips and aimed a seductive smile at him. “I’m ready.”
His heart wasn’t in it, but he dutifully lined himself up, suddenly finding himself wanting to get the whole thing over with, creeping doubt breaking through the inebriation clouding his mind, scathingly questioning him why he thought this was a good idea, why was he doing this, why was he still doing this, why won’t he just stop if it didn’t feel right –
The body beneath him arched, hands grasping at his shoulder, and Zhao was prepared for the sting of nails raking down his skin, surprised when gentle fingers ran across cords of muscle instead.
Zuko would’ve taken the opportunity to leave his mark –
Stop thinking about Zuko. But he couldn’t help it, not when the wavy dark hair fanning across white sheets looked so, so familiar. Not when those sounds, soft moans and gasps, morphed an octave lower, a tad raspier. Not when those gentle arms wound around his body reminded him so much of that night he and Zuko had fallen into bed, made love –
But they hadn’t made love. They had fooled themselves then, and Zhao was fooling himself now.
Zuko – Tai – did it even matter now? The body beneath him cried out, back arching, wetness smearing between them as evidence of completion, and then walls were tightening around Zhao’s cock, hot and wet, and it felt good, but it didn’t feel right, and – and –
He pulled out, shoulders shaking not out of pleasure but grief, and it felt like a betrayal, even though there was nothing to betray. The traitorous syllables of a name started to slip out anyway, until Zhao bit down in the middle, fracturing it.
“Zu…”
And he could’ve stabbed himself with a knife then, when he realised he’d almost revealed Zuko’s name to a complete stranger. The source of his woes, his reason for drinking himself blind in the middle of the night, the one who held his heart only to throw it on the ground, shattering it into smithereens.
He couldn’t do it. He tried, oh, how he tried, but...
Zhao collapsed on the bed next to the panting omega, completely and utterly defeated.
“Need any help with that?” Tai murmured, fingers dancing down Zhao’s abdomen, ready to dip below his waist.
“No.” Zhao grimaced, twisting away slightly. “Leave it. I’m fine.”
Knowing eyes peered at him through the dark, and Zhao felt more exposed than he already was, lying naked in bed with a stranger, shame flushed through his veins.
“Hung up on someone, huh?”
“Yeah,” Zhao said. He’d already thrown so much of himself away, what difference did it make to throw more?
“Have you told them how you felt?”
Zhao scoffed. “Why do you think I was in a bar drinking my liver to an early death?”
Sympathy lined Tai’s eyes, and Zhao couldn’t even bring himself to hate it.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Zhao remained silent.
“You can stay for the night if you’d like. I can make us breakfast too.” Hesitant fingers stroked his back. “Only if you want to, of course.”
If he said no, he’d inevitably return to Zuko anyway, so.
“Alright.” Manners kicked him in the side, so Zhao tacked on, “Thanks.”
“Of course.” More hesitation, and then Tai offered quietly, “It might help to talk about them.”
Zhao laughed bitterly. “I’ve just spent an entire evening trying to avoid him.”
“You don’t really seem like the avoidance type of guy. That might be why it’s not working.”
Tai had a point, but Zhao held on to denial for a moment longer.
Tai sighed. “Maybe you’d appreciate a second opinion. Rest assured, you probably won’t ever see me again.”
Maybe it was that point that tipped him over the edge. Maybe he didn’t need any tipping at all. Perhaps he was just tired of feeling sorry for himself all the fucking damn time.
“We met years ago. But we only started sleeping with each other something like a year ago. That’s all there was to it. We never intended to get emotions involved.”
There was a quiet rustle as Tai shifted closer. “What changed?”
“We did.” Zhao sighed, tracing circles against Tai’s back, exactly how Zuko liked it. “Shit happened. We got to properly know each other, and then we were forced to work together. But then things got complicated and we couldn’t call ourselves fuck buddies anymore. And then I went ahead and caught feelings while he... did not.”
Tai hummed. “What did you see in him?”
Where to begin?
Zhao’s heart ached anew, but the words spilled out of him faster than he could keep up. “At first, he was simply beautiful. It was… jarring. I turned around one day and saw he’d grown into this… this absolutely beautiful person. Indescribable. People become more attractive the more you know them, and he was no different. But then I noticed other things. He’s strong. He’s resilient. He’s everything anyone would strive to be. He’d seen me at my worst points, seen me at my best points. He saw everything; I laid myself bare, and he saw me.”
“He didn’t turn you away.”
“No,” Zhao said. “He didn’t. That’s what I hate so much about him sometimes. I’ve given him every reason to stay away, but he didn’t budge. Stubborn as he is, he stayed. Sometimes I feel like I had no choice with what happened, with how easily I…”
He swallowed, blinked hard. His hand, trembling now, reached up to gently cup Tai’s face, and it took everything he had to remember this was Tai, not Zuko, who leaned into his touch so welcomingly.
This wasn’t Zuko, and with the grief and alcohol sedating him, Zhao found it difficult to discern black hair from a different type of black, pale skin from a different type of pale, faintly sweet scent from a different type of scent.
“I told him I loved him. He didn’t believe me. I can’t blame him for not believing me. We didn’t address the whole thing until today. It… fuck, it tore me up inside. To see him so close, unable to touch him. To see him smile, only to frown when he saw me. To watch him look away whenever we accidentally met eyes. I made everything awkward, but I couldn’t bring myself to take it back. Fuck, but if I could… if I could go back even just a few days, I’d take it all back in a heartbeat. And it’s not even to protect myself, I’d take it all back just so he wouldn’t have to feel awkward about it.”
Anything so he wouldn’t have to see the rictus smile frozen on Zuko’s face when he tried to pretend everything was alright between them when it clearly wasn’t.
His throat was dry. So fucking dry. He could feel something rising in his throat, a sob, a wretched one, and he forced it down.
“I was a fool in love, and I didn’t even know if it was love. I still don’t know if it’s love but fuck, with how much it hurts, what else could it possibly be?” A bitter laugh rose now, and he ignored how wet it suddenly sounded. “But I’m no good at it. I don’t know how to love. I don’t know because I’ve never been in love. But I thought… I thought, since I’ve already given so much of myself to him, I could give him more. But he didn’t want it. I overstepped. I didn’t think. I just… I saw him, and he was so beautiful. I suddenly couldn’t picture my life without him being some part of it, no matter how minor, and I just thought… I just thought…”
“Hey,” Tai soothed, concerned eyes roving over his face. “Oh. Oh, no, it’s okay, it’s alright.”
“I love him,” Zhao confessed. “But he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want me. How can I blame him? People have always been right about me. I don’t know how to love. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. Everyone I’ve ever loved, I’ve never loved correctly.”
His whole fucking family, for one. Jeong Jeong. Zuko.
“Hey,” Tai said firmly, “hey, hey, hey. No. What the hell, of course you know how. You love this guy, right?”
“I felt… I felt like he could kick me down and spit on me, and I’d still think he was beautiful. He changed me. And he doesn’t even know it. He won’t ever know it. I…” oh fuck, oh fuck. He could feel the tickle of a tear down his cheek, the stifling dryness of his mouth, the tightness of his throat. “He’s stubborn. He has a temper. H-he loves animals, could spend all day with them. He likes prawns but he hates peeling them. Sometimes he sneaks the ones I’ve already peeled off my plate. He…”
A breath escaped him, as breathless as Zuko made him.
“I… I’ve never felt this way before. It hurts. It hurts so fucking much but somehow I wouldn’t g-give it up for the world.” Finally losing the fight, a sob tore out of him. Wretched, wretched thing. He could blame drunkenness, he could blame sleeping with a complete stranger, he could blame this spontaneous spillage of emotion; hell, he could blame himself. But he knew he couldn’t ever blame Zuko.
He didn’t know when he’d fallen in love.
Maybe it was in Ba Sing Se, lying low and alone, but at least they were together.
Maybe it was when he’d finally opened up about his sister, about Jeong Jeong, and Zuko had listened, peering at him with enraptured eyes.
Maybe it was the day Zuko had asked him to treat him like a lover, and unbeknownst to him, Zhao had mistaken an act for the real thing.
It might’ve been that day. That day, that beautiful, blissful day, when they had fallen into bed, pretending, faking, lying to themselves and each other. Where they’d traded kisses, and Zhao had bought into the fantasy, thought he was indulging Zuko when all along, he’d only been playing himself.
“I love him.” Zhao repeated, wondering why he couldn’t say anything else. “I love him. I love him. I love him –”
He got cut off by his own choke, the words tangling in his throat. He hadn’t meant to love Zuko. He hadn’t meant to fall in love at all. His life had been planned every step of the way, the process rigid, unyielding, inflexible. And then Zuko, like the whirlwind he was, unapologetically barged into Zhao’s life, threw everything off, plans awry, deviating from the strict regime Zhao had always thought life had set out for him.
Tai held him through it all, rubbing his back soothingly. This was mortifying. He had enough of his awareness left, as dulled by alcohol as it was, to realise he was currently being comforted by a complete stranger, he was professing his love over and over again to someone who didn’t return his affections, and now he was noticing stupidly obvious things such as he was naked, stained with regret, and acting nothing more than a lovelorn fool.
“Sorry.” Zhao gasped out, wiping the wetness from his face. “Sorry. Sorry, sorry, fuck, sorry –”
“What are you apologising for?”
“To you.” And when he thought of Zuko yet again, Zhao whispered, “To you. I’m sorry. I made things awkward, didn’t I? You didn’t want to hear all that, I – apologies. I overstepped.”
Tai’s arms tightened around him, and what Zhao wouldn’t give to have them be Zuko’s arms instead. What he wouldn’t give to be lying next to Zuko, just loving him, even in silence, even if Zuko would never know of his affections. Alcohol made him a fool, but love an even bigger fool.
“Shh,” Tai murmured, soothing him. “You have nothing to apologise for. It’s okay, it’s okay…”
He didn’t know how long he spent with his heart bleeding out, but somehow, he managed to fall asleep, hollow and grieving with nothing but a stranger to comfort him.
The next morning, head pounding and mouth ashen, Zhao gingerly made his way downstairs, hesitantly taking a seat at the dining table when Tai ushered him to it.
“Morning.” Tai smiled, sliding a platter of fruit towards him. “I was just going to go wake you up.”
“Thanks.” Zhao mumbled, lowering his head.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like a komodo rhino just trampled over me.” Zhao grumbled, accepting a cup of water with a word of thanks.
Tai slowly sat down opposite him, carefully cradling a bowl of soup in his hands. “Hey, I know we were both drunk and all, but I hope last night wasn’t anything you’d beat yourself up over.”
“No,” Zhao lied. “Wasn’t on you, anyway, if I did. You didn’t do anything.”
“Okay, cool.” Tai started packing up some of the food, placing it in a cloth before bundling the whole thing up and tying it with twine. “Here, take this.”
“There’s no need –”
“You’d be doing me a favour, trust me.” Tai interrupted, insistently pressing it into Zhao’s hands.
“Oh,” Zhao said softly. “Thank you.”
“You’re going back to him, huh?”
“Yeah,” Zhao mumbled. “Can’t exactly avoid him when we’re travelling together.”
“It’s alright if you need a break from him. You know that, right?” Tai said, concerned. “You don’t have to chain yourself down. Sometimes you do need to cut yourself off from people. At least, for a little while.”
The world might be depending on them, so no, Zhao didn’t think he had the option of taking time for himself. He had to keep going, broken heart and all. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I’ll keep that in mind.”
He could see Tai as someone easy to love. Attentive, warm, caring. A sense of humour, witty, and easy on the eyes. But he wasn’t Zuko, and Zhao mourned the fact he wasn’t Zuko.
Tai came around the table and hugged him. Nothing attached to it, simply an embrace as one would expect between friends.
Bewildered, Zhao could only lean into the embrace, taking in soft cinnamon and ginger.
“I... um...”
The omega laughed.
“Sometimes you just need a hug.” Tai shrugged, smiling lightly. “And you looked like you could use one.”
“Thank you,” Zhao said, genuinely grateful. “Thank you.”
The way to Caldera was a long one, but Zuko insisted that if they were to find any answers, it would have to be there.
In the middle of the night, sitting on separate beds, Zuko asked him with a certain fragility in his voice, “Are we… are we going to be okay?”
Zhao closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, counting the beats of his heart as Jeong Jeong taught him so long ago, resolving to bury his feelings. For his own sake and Zuko’s.
“We’re okay.” Zhao whispered. “And if we’re not, we’ll be okay.”
Silence.
And then Zuko carefully laid down on his side, turning so that his back was facing Zhao.
“... Okay.”