Chapter Text
Somewhere between the fourth and fifth shot of tequila, Zuko realized he was drunk, around the time that Mai and Ty Lee decided to give him twenty-three kisses to celebrate his twenty-three years, covering his face in so much lipstick that he didn’t even have the mental capacity to feel embarrassed. It’s not like he hadn’t kissed either of them before. Still even in his drunken haze he had wished someone else would kiss him.
And it wasn’t that he wasn’t having a good time—because, fuck, he was. What started as a shit show of screaming and yelling had transformed into a night of copious amounts of alcohol and dancing. The last hour alone had been a blur of bright lights and pounding music, with Ty Lee dragging him around the dance floor. It took a lot of alcohol to get him there, but he was having an amazing time. Ty Lee’s hand wrapped around his, twirling him until he was dizzy. Mai was doing her signature goth dance, picking imaginary apples from an equally imaginary tree, and even the music, which Zuko usually hated, seemed to be hopping, shit Mai might have gotten pictures of him doing the macarena. Maybe the drinks had something to do with that.
Because he wasn’t always supposed to be out clubbing tonight, downtown in one of the nicer restaurants was a reservation he hadn’t shown up for. And when he vented in the group chat about it, the last thing he expected was the girls to pick him up in an Uber within twenty minutes of him sending his text. All they had said was come outside it’s an emergency, giving him no chance to pull out and handing him a spiked Arizona iced tea which was only about 20% tea. Mai ordered a round of Jäger bombs, and Ty Lee dared whoever was last to finish to pay for the next round. During the dare, she pulled a bright pink party broche with multicolored sparkles and ruffles from her handbag and planted it on Zuko’s shirt. He tried Goldschläger for the first time, which Mai swore was good but only burned the fuck out of his throat, which of course must be why Mai likes it. Then came the cycle of dancing, tequila shots, more dancing, and more tequila until Ty Lee spun him too hard, sending him crashing into a big, angry guy.
Which is how he found himself now, covered in someone else’s Guinness—seriously, who drinks Guinness in a nightclub? More so, who holds pints of it on the dance floor? He was sitting in what he was sure were droplets of someone else's piss, crying into his phone. It wasn’t just the spilled drink and the angry guy though; if Zuko weren’t so drunk, he would’ve punched him in the face. It was that in the few minutes he hid in the bathroom, waiting for the guy to move away, he took out his phone and remembered why he was so upset earlier. The unread texts just pulling at his heart and making him feel sick.
Fuck Jet. Seriously, fuck Jet and his fucking mood and their stupid fight and his stupid face. Agh! Fuck him. Zuko pressed his hand to his face, letting out a loud groan. The small bathroom seemed to be closing in on him, the walls shrinking as his tears blurred his vision. He could feel the small crescents his nails were digging into his forehead. And the music which had been fun and joyful only minutes before was causing a ringing in his ears and he just felt nauseous. He looked at his phone again before stuffing it back in his pocket and wiping some of his tears on the back of his sleeve, which of course came off with a myriad of lipstick. Fuck, he must look a state.
And then the door handle bent down.
Shit how had Zuko forgotten to lock it, (probably because he was so drunk he thought sitting on a men’s room floor was a good idea ) Still though he quickly scrambled to wipe the tears from his face and straighten himself up. Just in time for the door to open and what must be the hottest guy ever to walk in. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt that should be hideous, sunshine yellow with pinup girls and rockets, its top few buttons undone, smiling over his shoulder and chatting to someone off in the distance, turning his head around as the door slipped closed behind him and then he saw Zuko, Zuko in his state, Zuko in his mess.
“Shit Dude,” pretty guy said, frowning slightly as he looked him up and down, “are you okay?”
“Oh me,” Fuck Zuko slurred a bit on that. “Yeah, I’m good, just taking in the evening.”
“Ha,” the guy laughed, his voice sounding so friendly and genuine and yep definitely drunk. “Fuck. Me too.” He leaned back against the door, trying to look casual but clearly unsteady. He put one leg against the door, not giving a shit that it was no way helping his balance and it took all of 10 seconds for him to slide down the door in slow motion, ending up on the floor next to Zuko. He landed with a soft thud, wincing slightly but then laughing it off, seemingly unfazed by the piss soaked floor. He extended a hand and rested it on Zuko’s shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle.
“So gorgeous, what has a pretty guy like you looking all upset?” he said his voice lilting with flirtation.
This guy must be drunker than Zuko, which shouldn’t be possible. “Nothing,” Zuko said with an eyeroll, wiping his eyes one final time for good measure. “Just my asshole boyfriend.”
“Is he out there? I’ll roundhouse kick him!” The guy grinned and then shadowboxed for Zuko, to be fair, demonstrating a kick would be difficult in their current predicament.
Zuko chocked a laugh at that, the bluntness of it, this guy who didn’t even know him offering to beat up Jet made him smile at the ridiculousness of it all. But there was something else to it too, something that maybe the alcohol was awakening in him, the feeling of his feelings mattering and someone wanting to stand up for him, to be comforted by a stranger on a piss stained floor while his boyfriend is at home causing said emotions, emotions too large for this level of inebriation. “Nah he didn’t want to come. He’s at home being pissed at me.”
“He’s at home?” the man then moved his hand from Zuko’s shoulder down onto the stupid pink badge Ty Lee had put on his shirt. He holds the badge for a few seconds and the proximity made Zuko hyperaware of how soaked his t-shirt is, god he must stink. He looked up again shaking his head at Zuko, his blue eyes baring into Zuko’s soul. “What a jerk! On his boyfriend’s birthday, what the fuck is wrong with this dude?”
Zuko snorted again, his eyes meeting the other mans. “Fuck if I know. He used to be nice, but it feels like it’s been forever since then.”
“You should dump his ass, and then I could be your boyfriend instead.” The guy said with a playful smile, perking up an eyebrow and leaning in with a grin. His tanned hand moving to Zuko’s shoulder again and giving his shoulder a squeeze. And fuck does Zuko’s heart skip a beat, because this man here with his beautiful face and his eyes that hold more shades than the ocean is looking at Zuko in a way Zuko doesn’t think he’s been looked at in months- wanted.
Zuko shook his head though, “Man, I wish, every time I’ve tried to dump Jet I’ve chickened out.”
“Jet what kind of name is Jet; I’ll push him out of a jet without a jetpack is what I’ll do.”
Zuko laughed at the ridiculousness of this guy just as his phone pinged with another text.
The guy paused for a moment, drunk enough to offer to be Zuko’s boyfriend on the bathroom floor, sober enough to think. “You want to dump him?” the guy said with a more devilish smile this time.
And Zuko, fueled with his liquid courage, maybe Mai’s Goldschläger had done something for him after all because yes, Jet is a jerk. Jet is a jerk who he had been doing nothing but argue with for the last two months, who pretty much convinced Zuko to stay on the promise that things would get better on Zuko’s birthday. Only to refuse to go to the expensive reservation Zuko had made. Jet who refused to be with Zuko yet made Zuko feel guilty for it. Jet who Zuko couldn’t remember the last time he had made Zuko smile. Fuck Jet.
“Yes.” Zuko finally said, his new confidence stealing all of his prior slurring, a new triumph in his eyes and the feeling he could do anything. He looked at the man in front of him, smiling.
His phone pinged again. God could Jet fuck off. “I wish I could just do it now, I don’t know how though,” Zuko said, shaking his head and fishing his phone out of his pocket.
Then the man had the mischievous smile again. “Give me your phone,” he said, and it didn’t sound controlling or manipulative if anything it just sounded supportive and curious. Zuko probably shouldn’t trust someone like this, this is probably how your phone gets robbed and your organs sold on the black market for cigarettes, but there’s something about the guy which made Zuko want to trust him. So, he did, he unlocked his phone, and passed it across him.
And the man spent all of two seconds on it before handing it back to Zuko, a huge grin on his face. And he must have noticed Zuko staring dumbfounded at him because he nodded at Zuko and then just said, “No more Jet. Kiss me.”
And before Zuko had any concept the man leaned forward grabbing Zuko by his Guiness soaked t-shirt. His lips messily finding Zuko’s and oh wow does the feeling make Zuko feel alive again. Because Zuko knew whatever this man just did should not be considered breaking up with Jet. Zuko didn’t even look at what the man had written but Zuko just didn’t give a shit because these lips are here and full of fervor and it’s something Zuko missed so he just kept kissing back. And who knows how long this kiss will last, maybe Zuko would open his eyes and the moment, and the man would be over, and all would be left was this grimy bathroom floor and a mess for him to deal with tomorrow, so he needed this moment. He pulled the man closer; his hands roam more. Zuko felt the man bite his lip looking to sneak his tongue into Zuko’s mouth. Zuko let him, Zuko joined him.
Zuko pushed himself forward so it’s not just his hands scrambling for the man anymore, but their chests pressed together, leaned up onto his knees, the other man copying him, killing any distance that had been between him and he just kept kissing him and kissing him and kissing him and the other man kept kissing him back.
Until eventually, their foreheads pressed together, both smiling. “Now what?” Zuko said, his breath kissing the cheeks of the man still so close to him, whose hands were gripping at Zuko’s shirt again, radiating heat into him, lighting an inner fire within him. A fire he thought he had lost.
“Now,” the man said, closing his eyes as he pecked Zuko on the lip again, and then on the cheek, and then on the nose, and then finally on the neck, sucking into Zuko’s pulse. “Now, you’re my boyfriend.”
“Okay,” Zuko simply said, his hands finding the man’s hair, tugging where he tied it up and pulling his face forward. A discarded phone on the floor beside them pushed aside, shoved against the wall unimportant, as Zuko lost himself in the kiss with the man - his new boyfriend?
