#inricochet

Zuko shifted his position on the ground when his foot began to fall asleep. His fingers flexed in the cool grass. He and the other boys sat in a circle as the full moon crept its way to the center of their sky. 

He looked over at Sol and smiled softly, despite the queasiness he felt. All week he’d been worrying about this night, but being around him made it better somehow. Like it was worth doing it at least once, however unsettling the whole affair was. 

At least, when it was over and done with, they could go back and sleep. He and Sol were still sharing a bed, and though he doubted it would continue for much longer, it was what he’d need after this.

As he and the boys waited, he thought again how strange it was that they’ve just accepted giving a sacrifice as the norm. They give their blood and carry on. He supposed he had a great deal of strange and concerning things he’d accepted, for awhile. 

Zuko was typically antsy to reach the end of his shift, but never had it been as excruciating. He was hasty with orders, and hastier with the dishes, resulting in one chipped cup and shattered plate. 

It was dumb, really - and made worse by the fact that his uncle knew exactly why Zuko was being this way. Occasionally, he’d pat his shoulder and whisper the word ‘patience’ as he walked by. At some point, coffee grounds came loose from a filter and got smeared all over his shirt, and he had to waste time scrubbing the evidence off in the bathroom. Unsuccessfully. 

He, to his amazement, managed to get everything done ten minutes early, and was ready to rush out when he stopped, remembering his uncle. Zuko looked over at him, waiting for his approval, which was granted with a knowing grin and a nod. He sighed. 

Going to a club wasn’t what Zuko would consider a ‘good time.’ If anyone else had asked him to go, he would’ve refused. But, Icio had asked. So. 

He realized after they got their ID’s checked and walked into the main room that he should’ve been more observant. If he had, he would’ve caught on that it was a gay club by the decor, rather than when he spotted two men kissing. 

In a flash, he was back outside, then down the street, then down the block. He didn’t think about anything other than the need to get away, to distance himself from what he saw and how it made him feel. 

The reality of what he’d done hit him after he stopped to catch his breath, practically heaving under the light of a streetlamp. 

Icio. He left Icio there, without saying a word. 

Zuko closed his eyes briefly as an ache spread throughout his skull, the elevation increasing as they weaved along the mountain path. It had been a long time since he’d been up so high. 

He glanced over at Icio, riding the Arabian stallion while Zuko opted for the Friesian mare. The journey hadn’t been entirely on horseback, so far, but this particular stretch of Kazakhstan made it necessary. 

“Have you been this way before?” 

Icio, being as old as he was, probably had. He supposed the better question was where had he not been. 

“I lived on top of a mountain, once - well, a volcano.” 

Bartending was never something Zuko saw himself doing. Yet, five nights a week he’s serving alcohol to relentless flirts and drunks in fancy after work suits. The bar was attached to his uncle’s tea shop, the other side a locked door away.

The customer flow was steady, per usual. It was hardly the establishment to gather for sporting events or parties; Zuko would’ve never agreed to work at the bar if it was rowdy and obnoxious.

He scanned the room idly, spotting mostly regulars, either relaxing alone or chatting among themselves. One regular seemed to be the former - he was blond and pale, and roughly Zuko’s age. He rarely ordered anything, but he always ended up staggering out of the bar by the end of the night. 

Whenever he wasn’t busy, Zuko would glance over at him. As the hours passed, the man began to slouch and sway on his feet, intoxication evident. When most of the other patrons cleared out, he could no longer help but approach him.

The last few times Zuko had been up before sunrise, it was because something negative transpired. Ranging from somewhat minor things such as troublesome dreams or restlessness, to phantom pains and glass shattering on the kitchen floor. 

While the sun was at least partially over the horizon by now, the house was shrouded in darkness, lit only by a lamp and the glow of appliances, as usual. Even now, neither of them dared to pull the curtains back. If Zuko longed for the sun, he was free to go out on his own to experience it. 

Icio joined him in the kitchen, and then by the door. After Zuko unlocked it, they lingered, his hand around the knob but not twisting. 

“Are you ready?” 

The weather was ideal. For weeks, it had either been too hot or stormy. Zuko stepped out a little while before, testing; the wind was light and refreshing, and the forecast promised for a mild, autumn day. 

After spotting no sign of a struggle, Zuko determined that he might’ve went on a hunt of his own. Just his luck. Now he was stumbling around in the woods, following the gradually fading scents of sweat and tobacco. 

The longer he searched, growing increasingly agitated by his unquenched thirst, the more he regretted picking such an isolated target. It posed a greater risk to hunt in more populated areas, but at least there were multiple options should something go wrong. 

Zuko sniffed the air, relieved that the man’s odor was getting stronger. Another smell, however, caught his attention. It was from something closer, and it definitely didn’t originate from an animal.

He intended to investigate, but it took a mere turn of his head for him to find the source. Another man - no, not quite, not human - stood several meters away, half hidden by a tree. He didn’t need to approach to know what he was, and why he was here. They were stalking the same prey. 

Zuko shivered as the sweat cooled on his skin. His panting soon fell back into steady breathing, his euphoria fading away and bringing him back to earth. 

He wanted to glance over at Icio, but kept his gaze to the ceiling instead. An unpleasant conversation was about to be had - he couldn’t delay it any longer. The words felt clogged in his throat, knowing that once they came out, the arrangement they had with each other would be fractured. 

“So, um - “ he started, closing his eyes as if it would make it easier. Moments like this made him hate his job. “I’ve been wanting to know..” 

Who your pimp is. How to get you out of this mess. How to get all of you out of this mess. If you and I..

“..What the others are like. You know,” he gestured to Icio without looking at him. “..If I can, uh, experience them.”