This Is My Uniform

White Cotton Socks

Wu slouched in his chair, casually spinning his pen around his fingers. He should have been paying attention. He had sworn to Mako he would.

Big important meeting. He rolled his eyes. World-leader style. He sighed, moving to hunch over the notepad covered in scribbles and hastily darkened initials and hearts. Paranoia made eyes shift to the others in the room.

No one was looking at him. He was safe.

Wu scrunched up his nose as President Raiko blurted out something about 'guerilla'.

Safe. The word was funny to him. Nothing was really safe. He didn't ever feel truly safe. Not- not after his kidnapping. Not after his family's murder.

Pen scratched over paper - more hearts, initials inside.

But Mako... a sharp inhale to battle the goosebumps flooding over Wu's skin at the memory of Mako's gentle touch on his ankle as he knelt at Wu's feet to untie his shoes.

Eyes closed slow, imagining viscerally the feel of that featherweight touch skittering up his leg, those lips so foreign and familiar following fast and wet the trail of Mako's hand-

A flushed gasp as Wu fluttered to attention at Lin slamming her hand on the table.

"What you're suggesting is-"

He frowned at himself as Tenzin's voice boomed over Lin's own, which was steadily growing quieter. The tension was so thick it was suffocating. Snapping Wu out of his own mind, flush radiating heat from the back of his neck to the roots of his hair.

Cool fingers pressed tightly to his skin, trying, trying so hard to focus on talk of weapons and battle maneuvers. But Wu's mind was elsewhere and straying further by the second. Eyes drifted over the members of council, settling on Varrick before sidling to Bolin, who looked just as uninterested as himself.

Green eyes rose, awkward smile and wave. Wu squinted. Nodded. Eyes darted away, then back. Looking for similarities in the brothers. Though their builds were opposite Wu found it was their smiles that tied them as brothers. That and their fair skin. He looked at the back of his own hand, wondering how many times he had wished to be beautifully pale like his cousins. All the whitening treatments had done nothing but left him with a rash.

Now... Jaw clenched. Now he was obligated, honored, to bear the skin tone his mother had gifted him. Beautiful and deep, warm.

Blinking rapidly Wu turned back to his notepad full of stupid, pointless doodles. He frowned, chewed on his lip. He had promised to try. That he would-

But the tactile memory of Mako's fingers on his back, chest pressed to his side. Hands clasping. Warm. So warm- Wu closed his eyes, inhaled slowly. Trying, desperate to quell the heat sparking in his chest, tight and cinching tighter when a hand clasped on his shoulder.

"Yes?!" Wu's voice unnaturally high, loud.

"Uh." Bolin smiled underneath his uncertain frown. "Meeting's over."

"Right." Wu looked down, quickly slapping a hand over his thoughtless hearts and Mako's name over and over, blocking the scribbles from Bolin's view as he stood hurriedly. "I was-uh. Trying to-"

"You were spacing out." Bolin pinned him, but his tone was jovial, his voice warm and gaze kind. "I actually figured we could head back together since you're staying with my family."

Oh. Wu paused for a moment. It never connected, for some reason, that Bolin was Mako's family too. Maybe because I've never really met him.