#also pls forgive any potential mistakes i only edited this once bc i'm v tired rn lol

[chitsangenthusiast]

can i get an uhhhhh zukka fluff number 10?

me, walking in two days late with a venti caramel flat white: hey lol

(sorry for this lateness! i wasn’t expecting to be so exhausted after irl stuff this weekend BUT in my defense you did give me the hair braiding prompt so. really. ofc it was gonna get out of hand and need more time lmaooooo rip)

i hope you enjoy!!

the prompt: "stop moving and let me braid your hair"

"Ugh, I’m so going to get sick. This sucks.”

Zuko lightly knocks an elbow into his chest and starts separating the hair next to his temple into three small groups.

“I woke up sick and you woke up next to me. Hate to break it to you, love, but it’s going to happen regardless," he states, then elbows him again when Sokka moans in sorrow. “You're such a baby. Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

“Bossy,” Sokka grumbles, but he does bring his free hand to rest on his husband’s thigh while he works, and shoots him a small, grateful smile.

(the full ficlet under the cut!)

—

The sound of his husband’s footsteps has Sokka turning—and he’s met with the sight of Zuko already glaring at him before he can even properly raise a judgmental brow.

“I thought I told you to stay in bed?” he asks anyway, and rolls his eyes in amusement when Zuko petulantly crosses his arms with an annoyed sniff.

And then sniffs again, harder, in a useless attempt at clearing his clogged nose.

“I heard Izumi,” he says, and immediately has to cough a few times into his elbow to try to smooth down the dry, painful rasp in his throat.

Sokka just snorts, and doesn’t come closer.

Instead, he repositions their daughter so that her sleepy face can be better seen across the room. Covered in her favorite blanket and wrapped tight around her dad’s shoulders, she looks exhausted. Her eyes only barely open from being jostled around, acknowledging her baba’s presence before slipping shut again with a small whine, and Zuko’s pulse can’t help but trip over the sickly flush on her own cheeks or the tiny wet coughs she occasionally lets out. He quickly steps into the room toward her.

“Uh, what do you think you’re doing?”

Sokka’s derisive tone stops him from getting too far. It’s softer, not it’s usual brash volume in an effort to be gentle on Izumi’s ears (and Zuko’s headache), which means it’s also entirely ineffective.

Zuko stares hard at him as he determinedly makes his way over, and Sokka lets out a loud groan.

“Hon, you’re sick! Get back in bed!” he tries again, this time in mounting horror when Zuko starts to get close, and he quickly pivots so that her body is blocked from view by his own. “She doesn’t need any more of your germs!”

“It’s just a cold, Sokka. Don’t be ridiculous,” Zuko scoffs—then has to cough into his elbow again before he can continue. He ignores the exasperated look he gets. “It’s just colds for both of us. Let me see my daughter, she’s not going to get any sicker if I’m around her.”

“Alright, well, you just saw her,” Sokka shoots back. He still hasn’t moved Izumi back into Zuko's line of sight, in case he tries to reach out and take her from his arms. “Now go lay down until I can come take care of you next.”

The complaint is heavy but without heat, and it makes Zuko finally look up at him with a frown. This close, he can see the clear exhaustion on his husband’s face; Izumi had come to his bedside early in the morning, sniffling and tearfully frustrated from not feeling well, so Sokka has been the one up with her all morning, alternating between taking care of her and passing along messages to the attendants about Zuko’s cancellations for the day since, naturally, he also woke up sick. He’s only half-dressed for work, with scruff still on his jaw and his hair draped over the shoulder that Izumi isn’t resting on, and Zuko’s mouth twists in quiet guilt.

“Your hair’s not done,” he blurts out, knowing better but too tired to think of a better way to phrase it, and Sokka grumps at him.

“Yeah, well, between a fussy sick husband and a poor little one who refused to be put down all morning—” here, he drops a quick kiss on Izumi’s head and rubs a sympathetic hand up her back— “I haven’t really had the time to put it up for the day yet.”

Zuko cuts a glance to the clock. “Don’t you have a meeting in an hour?”

He winces at Sokka’s hard sigh.

“I’ll just—” Suddenly, Izumi lets out a big sneeze, quickly followed by an agitated cry, and Sokka shifts her around so that she’s better cocooned in his arms as he starts to sway a little to calm her. “I’ll get to it eventually. Or I’ll just show up like this and guilt everyone into doing what I want. Could be a good tactic actually, I think some of the committee members are parents who would empathize.”

“Let me do it for you.”

Sokka immediately steps away from him with a deep frown. “Nope, keep your sick hands away from me. I’m the only one left!”

“I won’t get you sick,” Zuko snaps, and doesn’t care about Sokka’s complaining as he drags him over to the couch to gently push him down into the cushions. Izumi fusses, wiggling against her dad’s hands so that she can pull away from his shoulder—then does a hard tilt over, startling both of her fathers as she dives into the pillow right next to Sokka’s leg.

“Izumi!”

As soon as her head hits the cool fabric, she lets out a happy, relieved noise and snuggles down into it. Her blanket comes up tighter around her shoulders, her feet shuffle around slightly in Sokka’s lap as she works to get comfortable, and she doesn’t even bother giving either of her dads the time of day before closing her eyes to try to find sleep.

Zuko promptly plops down next to his husband, shocked and a little woozy. “She’s not allowed to hang out with Toph anymore.”

“Does she think she’s an earthbender, just falling back like that without a care?” Sokka quietly seethes back in agreement. One of his hands comes down to wrap around her ankle as he lets out an explosive sigh, and he drops his head heavy against the back of the couch. “The two of you are going to be the death of me, I swear.”

Zuko pouts. “I haven’t even done anything yet today.”

“You’re out of bed when I told you not to be,” Sokka fires back, then quickly leans away when he notices the hands reaching out for his hair. “Ugh, I’m so going to get sick. This sucks.”

Zuko lightly knocks an elbow into his chest and starts separating the hair next to his temple into three small groups.

“I woke up sick and you woke up next to me. Hate to break it to you, love, but it’s going to happen regardless," he states, then elbows him again when Sokka moans in sorrow. “You're such a baby. Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

“Bossy,” Sokka grumbles, but he does bring his free hand to rest on his husband’s thigh while he works, and shoots him a small, grateful smile.

The sight makes Zuko press a tiny kiss into the braid. “You know, I missed getting my ‘good morning’ kiss from you.”

Sokka immediately snorts. “Izumi got all my kisses this morning, sorry babe. I’ll give you one when you can finally breathe through both nostrils again.”

“Too long,” Zuko complains back, as he finishes off one of the braids. With Izumi half draped over his lap, Sokka will likely only be able to wear the two on his right side today since Zuko can't really get to the other side of his head, so he moves to start pulling his hair up into a wolf tail.

Sokka hums, and looks over with an sad, wistful smile. “Yeah, I can agree with that.”

With his hair held up in a fist, Zuko can now see the bare stretch of his husband’s neck, along with the dark fuzz of hair on his scalp that will need to be shaved at some point. He spends more time than necessary trying to catch any flyaways, sliding his hand up and around his head just so he can relish this moment of touch, and smiles at the quiet sigh he receives.

“I love you,” Sokka murmurs, one hand still on their daughter’s foot and the other rubbing light circles on his husband’s thigh. Zuko chuckles as he makes quick work of securing the wolf tail.

“I love you too,” he whispers back, and then leans in. He takes a moment, just a quick one, to press his warm forehead against Sokka’s skin—his body temperature does nothing too soothe, but Zuko’s spirits are still wonderfully lifted anyway—before pulling back to leave a lingering kiss on that same spot.

“There, without any worries of catching my cold.”

Sokka’s responding exhale is fulfilled, contented, and definitely whiny. Zuko drops another kiss there, just so he can appreciate the whining part again, then presses a few more along his hairline because the elated inhale he gets is too good not to be rewarded.

And then he keeps going, covering his husband’s head in little kisses as he loosely wraps his arms around his shoulders—only to be surprised into a long, firm kiss when Sokka suddenly (carefully, to not disturb a snoozing Izumi) twists around to pull him close. Zuko laughs into it, utterly pleased at finally getting what he’s wanted all morning, and curls around his husband as they indulge themselves in kiss after sweet kiss.

“You’re definitely going to get sick now,” he eventually mumbles into Sokka’s mouth, but he doesn’t pull away, and neither does Sokka.

He does let out a long-suffering laugh though, and lands a quick kiss on the space right between Zuko’s eyes. “Oh, I'm well aware, hon. Izumi kept blowing raspberries in my face earlier. Like I said, the absolute death of me.”

Still, the fingers that have found their way into Zuko’s hair push on the back of his neck anyway, beckoning.

Zuko grins, and dutifully falls back in to collect more of his husband’s kisses.