Golden-Eyed Golden Child

by Txepvi (Ealirel)

Summary:

Neteyam has no excuse to stay sober and he does not want to. It is only around five in the afternoon. Ao'nung does not turn down a bottle of passion fruit & orange cider. The young surfer has no idea how the swooning girls did not figure out that Neteyam plays for the other team yet. Perhaps it is because Lo'ak is an absolute buffon and openly flirts with Tsireya. Maybe they think Neteyam is the same.

Neteyam does not have a bottle opener. He has a small knife on him — military brat — and he hits it against the bottle's cap, knocking it off clean with one strike. It's his party trick. Ao'nung always breaks the bottle when he tries to do this.

Chapter 1: Military Children

Summary:

Got this random idea that Ao'nung is absolutely obsessed with Neteyam (in a good way) but Neteyam has no idea lmao
And then I took that and sprinkled it with a modern day uni au
Enjoy

Notes:

Sorry for any typos there is a cat sleeping on my head lmao

---

Neteyam is the perfect son. He's twenty years old and has been working since seventeen, so his parents would no longer need to spend money on him.

Nothing in his room is ever out of place. Neteyam is tidy and washes his plates (and his brother's as well) right after each meal. He helps his mother cook and offers to mow the lawn so his father does not have to. Neteyam is not like Lo'ak, who is a true military brat.

The Sully Family moved around a lot; they always lived where Jake Sully had work. Neteyam is proud of his father. Jake is a marine who survived many battles, even taking a bullet to the chest. Neteyam heard stories of his father being paralysed – but that was before he was born and he could afford the surgery. Neteyam's father is painfully American. He even has a flag perched in the living room next to his many formal photographs. 

Their mother is gorgeous; Neteyam is a copy of her. She comes from a far away land and her skin is deep brown. She never wears makeup, but her hair is always tidy, secured in the same thin braids that Neteyam, Lo'ak and Tuktirey also wore. Neytiri is a foreign chief's daughter, a very high ranking military official, formerly at war with Jake's own devision. But then they fell in love and Neteyam came along. Then Lo'ak also. 

Neteyam smiles at the memories of his parents, often daydreaming of the same passionate love. 

Neteyam has tan skin, but nowhere near as tan as Neytiri. He has thinner lips too, one of the few features he inherited from his father. His eyes are a pale brown, the exact shade as his mother's and all of his siblings. He's the only one with freckles and his hair is only wavy – though nobody knows because he never wears it down.

Lo'ak's skin is the same colour as his. They're borderline pale, sometimes mistaken as Afro-American, but their slightly wider, flatter noses give their native omaticayan heritage away. It is obvious they are mixed. Tuktirey looks a lot like Neytiri, plump lips and large eyes, all smiles. Her hair is wild, curly and hard to tame, but Neytiri knows just how to twist her braids to make them yield to her. Tuk's skin is only a few shades lighter than their mother's. 

Neytiri loves all her children equally. She recognises their indivual strengths and does not treat them like they are all the same person, because they are not. 

Neteyam is her wonderful, responsible eldest son; she often brought him along to work.

She is not a marine. She is in the navy and she flies planes like she was born to do it. Now, after three children, she is close to retiring. She only teaches the newbies. Neteyam sometimes still comes along with her. His skills as a pilot far outmatch her own. He is amazing. But he does not want to be soldier. He is too gentle. Neytiri’s coworkers always swoon when they see him.

Neteyam has been told to wait for so many daughters to grow up. He knows it is a joke, but he always flushes uncomfortably when middle aged women try to set him up with their underage daughters.

---

Neteyam is perfect.

He is doing two majors at once – one even requires him to complete a minor course along with the major. He works. Ao'nung wants to stuff his fist in his mouth to stop himself from screaming out in frustration. Neteyam has a stupid little part time job, too and it is not just any kind of job. The eldest Sully son works in a bank. Ao'nung would sooner drink acid than work in an office setting.

Neteyam barely seems tired. He always has a kind smile on his face and his eyes do not have bags underneath them. 

Ao'nung is exhausted just from his classes and his swimming practices.

Neteyam is breathtakingly beautiful. But god, he paints his nails and it drives Ao'nung mad with a desire he had never felt before. It scares him. 

Ao'nung has known Neteyam since they were fifteen. He knows he was Neteyam's first kiss too — it was at a stupid little sleepover Tsireya had hosted. They were 16. Ever the love-bug, she twisted the events of that night to fit her own desires and decided to play spin the bottle. She had been hoping to secure a peck with the youngest Sully brother only to end up missing completely. Neteyam had flushed so bright that Ao'nung thought he might faint.

Neteyam has a discreet little pride flag in his room amongst the many pictures he sets up on his wall, rearranging them from time to time. Ao'nung comes over often with the excuse to study – they never do. Tuktirey often disturbs them and demands to play Barbies. Sometimes, Ao'nung let's the young girl put makeup on him. He always demands Neteyam delete the photos. Neteyam pretends to, but he restores the deleted images as soon as Ao'nung goes home.

They are not dating. Not even close. 

Ao'nung is one of Neteyam's closest friends next to Kiri, Grace's beautiful daughter. Ao'nung refuses to admit that he had the fattest crush on the girl a few years back when she first moved to town with her mother.

Kiri is studying to be marine biologist. She only has elective classes with the Sully boys. She is learning Chinese and Spanish for fun. Her closest friend, Spider, is her mother's sworn enemy's son. Kiri does not care. Spider is funny and he makes her laugh. Ao'nung's oldest friend, Rotxo, is also completing the same degree as Kiri. Rotxo did not even want to go to university, but he did just to be with her. He ended up falling in love with his subjects. Ao'nung gags at the thought of the two of them together. 

Ao'nung is majoring biology. Neteyam is, too. Neteyam focuses on his other degree more than biology though and often skips the lectures in favour of studying. Neteyam's is majoring in international relations and chose to minor in Korean. 

Ao'nung is tempted to try Japanese just to spite him, but he is absolutely ass at languages. He barely managed to learn English. 

"Nung?" Neteyam's soft voice startles Ao'nung and he accidentally snaps his pencil in half. Neteyam sniggers at his friend's surprise. 

"What?" Ao'nung grumbles. 

They are sitting in a lecture. It is something about organic somethings. Ao'nung has no idea. The lecture hall is full. It is only the first week of their second term and everyone is itching to know how the exam will go, and so nobody misses class just yet, not even Ao'nung.  

"I won't be here next week. Can you take notes for me?" Neteyam's smile is the most beautiful thing Ao'nung has ever seen and he turns away, hiding his blush. The redness of his tanned cheeks is a sharp contrast against his pale blue eyes. 

Neteyam knows Ao'nung despises taking notes but for Neteyam he does so anyway and makes his handwriting extra pretty.

Ao'nung groans. "Okay."

"Thanks, Nungie," Neteyam grins and his eyes crinkle at the corner, cheeks scrunching up. Ao'nung internally swoons at the bunny teeth. 

The lecture ends and they stand, packing their things away — well, Neteyam packs. Ao'nung spent the entire class daydreaming or mucking around on his phone. The screenprotector is cracked and his phone case is brown with age. Ao'nung does not really care for electronics. He cares only for his underwater camera and surfing. 

They step outside and Neteyam bumps his shoulder against Ao'nung's playfully. He's shorter and thinner, but he is still tall and strong. Ao'nung is just a giant and makes everyone look small. 

"I have to go to work now, Nung." Neteyam's voice is soft, tickling Ao'nung's ears like dripping honey. Ao'nung has to resist swooning again. 

"Are you free this weekend?"

Thankfully, the stupid little bank Neteyam works at is always closed at the weekends. But of course Neteyam is currently tutoring an old lady in German. She is seventy and her grandson married into a German family. 

"I am." Ao'nung is distracted and Neteyam notices. He places a hand on Ao'nung's shoulder reassuringly and it is all Ao'nung needs. "Would you like to do something?"

"No." Neteyam is chuckling in horribly disguised annoyance. "But dad said I need to go with Lo'ak to his freshman party thing to make sure he doesn't do something incredibly stupid. Will you come with me?"

Ao'nung bites the inside of his cheek. "Who's hosting?"

Neteyam shrugs, entirely unhelpful. "Who knows."

"Then how do you know where to go?"

"Lo'ak will drive there. I drive back." 

Ao'nung hums. He always forgets that Neteyam can drive. As the perfect older brother, he gives his only chances at driving Jake Sully's enormous beast of a car to Lo'ak. The car is black, shiny and brand new. Ao'nung has no idea what kind it is but every time the car shows up on campus, people point and stare in awe. 

"You going to pick me up, forest boy?" Ao'nung smirks, draping an arm over Neteyam's shoulder. 

"Lo'ak will, but yes. Kiri is coming, too." Neteyam pulls away swiftly and sticks his leg out, making Ao'nung stumble. 

"Is your fool of a brother bringing my sister?" Ao'nung's face turns sour but his inner suffering is worth it because Neteyam's eyes light up in amusement and he giggles. He actually giggles. Ao'nung swallows thickly. 

Neteyam pats his arm. "Obviously. "

They part ways and Ao'nung disappears in his dorm room, slamming the door and squealing.

He sincerely wishes that Neteyam would come to live in the dorm as well, but the shorter male travels forty minutes to class every morning instead. Even his fool of a little brother lives at home just so he can drive Tsireya – who also refuses to live in the dorms – to class.

Ao'nung throws himself onto his bed and grumbles all the swear words he can find. There is a lot.

Notes:

What do we think

Chapter 2: Passion Fruit and Orange

Summary:

Sorr for any typoes lol

---

Neteyam, perfect as always, brings snacks when he comes to visit Ao'nung in his dorm. He's charmed the dorm ladies – Ao'nung has no idea what they're actually called – into letting him into the dorm despite not living there. 

Neteyam knocks on his door and Ao'nung let's him inside. He has tidied his room hurriedly. He tends to get a little messy but for Neteyam he tries harder to be neat.

Neteyam, despite his obvious love for being good, brings cider. The fruity little drinks are only 5% little somethings. Neteyam does not drink beer, he says he hates the taste. Wine makes him dizzy and champagne bubbles drunkenly in his head. He is a true lightweight. Ao'nung once convinced him to try vodka mixed with coca cola — Neteyam gagged at the taste and decided to drink vodka plainly with nothing mixed into it. He did not make it home that night, sleeping soundly in Ao'nung's bed with a bucket next to him. Ao'nung had slept on the floor, not wanting to he drenched in bile. It was the summer during their senior year. 

Now, Neteyam knows his limits and he sticks to them, unlike Ao'nung, who still gets absolutely hammered with every party he attends.

"Hey," Neteyam smiles, shy in his greeting. He has a large backpack with him and Ao'nung already knows he came to copy the notes for the lectures he missed because the classes for his two majors cross. 

Ao'nung smiles boyishly, teeth flashing. "Come on in. Rotxo isn't here."

Neteyam let's himself in and sets his bag aside. Ao'nung notices how his nose is red and his eyes are slightly poofy. It must have been yet another argument with his father that left Neteyam feeling like a disappointment. Neteyam calls his father sir — Ao'nung has no idea how that happened. He himself is a military brat but his father is always dad. Maybe papa if he wants to wheedle something out of his old man.

Neteyam avoids looking at him and Ao'nung does not push. Neteyam never complains so Ao'nung could only guess blindly. He does not know if he is right in his assumption that Neteyam had been crying because of his father. He leaves the topic alone and throws himself into his he'd next to Neteyam, making the smaller male bounce with a soft laugh.

"I didn't know we'd be drinking today." 

Neteyam shrugs. "You don't have to. But I will. Lo'ak took the car for the night. He doesn't have class tomorrow so he's going home to visit grandma."

Neteyam has no excuse to stay sober and he does not want to. It is only around five in the afternoon. Ao'nung does not turn down a bottle of passion fruit & orange cider. The young surfer has no idea how the swooning girls did not figure out that Neteyam plays for the other team yet. Perhaps it is because Lo'ak is an absolute buffon and openly flirts with Tsireya. Maybe they think Neteyam is the same.

Neteyam does not have a bottle opener. He has a small knife on him — military brat — and he hits it against the bottle's cap, knocking it off clean with one strike. It's his party trick. Ao'nung always breaks the bottle when he tries to do this. 

Ao'nung eyes the rest of the colourful liquids. He spots a watermelon & strawberry flavor and gags in his head. The alcohol is obnoxiously red. There's mango & papaya too. A weird mix. Neteyam is in an oversized T-shirt. It hides his muscles. He is not a twig — Ao'nung bites his lip at the mental image of his best friend shirtless. 

"What's the occasion then, forest boy?" Ao'nung asks quietly, drinking the whole, although small, bottle in one go, making Neteyam blinked in surprise. He always takes his sweet time with his booze. "What we drinking for?"

Neteyam hums, contemplating his answer before he sighs and shrugs. "I just felt like it."

He pulls out a bag of small chocolates from his backpack and tears it open neatly. He holds out a piece to Ao'nung. There are many flavours in the mix but Ao'nung's favourite will always be milk chocolate with almonds. Neteyam loves white chocolate with strawberry. 

They chat as Neteyam sips his drink, scribbling a copy of Ao'nung's notes. Neteyam has a million highlighters and Ao'nung is sure the boy's pencil case is heavier than his own backpack.  

Neteyam is perfect but there is one thing that is absolutely awful about him. His handwriting is putrid. Ao'nung cannot read it. Not even a word.

"How can your writing be so ugly?" Ao'nung snorts, pupils wide. He is on his third drink on an empty stomach. 

Neteyam does not take offence. "It matches your face."

Ao'nung's mouth falls open in shock. He lunges for Neteyam but the smaller male has already gathered his notebook in his hands and slips of the bed easily, making Ao'nung faceplant on his sheets.

"Come on, Nung. You can't catch me."

Ao'nung really can't. He knows. He grumbles helplessly into the sheets and sits up slowly, cheeks red.

"Well, you can't swim as fast. Maybe you're good at swinging through trees—"

"It's called rock climbing, Nung." Neteyam sits on the floor, cross-legged. He finished his flimsy little passion fruit & orange flavoured cider and reached for another. Mango this time. He opens it just as easily. 

Ao'nung takes some time to just watch him, though he is pretending to scroll on his phone. Neteyam has brown hair, unlike his siblings. Lo'ak and Tuk both have their mother's raven locks. Ao'nung loves how Neteyam is different. He does not know Neteyam hates being different. 

Neteyam finishes copying Ao'nung's pearly notes and puts his things away. By then it is seven in the afternoon. Evening? Who cares? Certainly not Ao'nung. Rotxo won't be back until eight. He's walking Kiri home and Grace will likely invite him in for dinner.

Ao'nung watched as Neteyam leans forward, reaching out for his bag; his shirt rides up, exposing the vitiligo on his back. The soft stripes are absolutely gorgeous to Ao'nung. Tsireya often swoons about the patterns on Lo'ak's thighs too. Tuktirey only has a small patch of white skin on her left hand. 

Ao'nung looks away, pulling a pillow into his lap. Neteyam pulls out his laptop. "Wanna watch a movie?"

"Which one?" Ao'nung is interested. He loves movies. He loves movies more when Neteyam is also there. In his bed. In his silly little mismatched socks. This time, one sock is dark blue and the other is white, striped, with a silly little kitten drawn on the front. Ao'nung knows the toe nails under are painted dark blue too. 

Neteyam thinks for a moment before he smiles pleasantly. "You can choose. Just don't pick horror."

The last time they watched a horror film was two years ago on new years. It took six months for Neteyam to finally be comfortable in the dark again. 

"End of Tomorrow."

Neteyam searches up the movie (he found a way to pirate anything and everything) and gets comfortable, wrapping in Ao'nung's bedsheets. Ao'nung resist swooning. As always. 

Neteyam falls asleep half way through and Ao'nung sends a text to Mr Sully to let him know that Neteyam fell asleep while studying. Jake never realises that they have not been studying. Neteyam's grades are nearly perfect and he has a fat scholarship. 

---

It is Saturday night. 

Neteyam is in his room, fastening some beads into his braids when his brother barges in without knocking. Lo'ak is obviously wearing one of Jake's black shirts. It's way too big on him and Neteyam already knows why his baby brother is in his room. 

"Bro, help me. All my nice clothes are in the wash!" Lo'ak whines, tugging at the sleeve falling down his hands. "What am I supposed to do with this."

"Not wear it," Neteyam murmurs fondly. Lo'ak is absolutely adorable in their father's clothes. Neteyam knows what Tsireya sees in him. "Dad will skin you if you get it dirty. And then skin me for letting you wear it."

"But I can't wear your clothes!" Lo'ak protests weakly. "I would look so goofy in those tight ass jeans." 

Neteyam shrugs. "Tsireya would appreciate the view."

Lo'ak flushes. Despite knowing Tsireya since they were 14, they have yet to even kiss.  "If you buy those pants to make your ass look nice you're failing, bro. You need to ditch the oversized shirts. They cover it."

Neteyam flushes, nose scrunching up. "Leave me alone. I'm not trying to make anything look nice."

"Not like you have to. Fish lips looks at you like he wants to eat you either way. You could be wearing a trash bag—" 

Neteyam throws a shoe at Lo'ak, horrified by what his baby brother is implying. "Leave Ao'nung out of this!"

Lo'ak chortles but doesn't complain about Neteyam's clothes anymore. He let's his brother tug their father's fancy shirt into place, rolling the sleeves up. He instructs Lo'ak to tuck one side into his jeans at the front, leaving the other loose. Lo'ak grins, satisfied before he bolts out of the room. 

Neteyam hears Tuktirey running after Lo'ak, shrieking something about making him look pretty. Lo'ak avoids the little girl's makeovers like the plague. 

Neteyam sighs softly and turns back to his full-sized mirror, tugging up his jeans. They're brown and high-waisted. Kiri helped him pick them out. Neteyam chooses to wear a simple white t-shirt on top. He wears an armband. It's different from other bracelets. It was made by his mother and it is tradition, sacred. It shows his connection with their Great Mother. His necklace his handmade. Brown leather with white shells sewn onto it. Neteyam adds a feather to his hair before grabbing his phone and wallet, sauntering downstairs where Lo'ak is still rushing around, trying to find his other damn shoe.

Jake spots his son. He's sitting at the dining table in his military outfit. He has headphones on and he is obviously in some sort of meeting. He takes a second to inspect his son's appearance before nodding, jutting his jaw out in playful impressedness. Neteyam gives him a lighthearted salute and catches the car keys Jake throws his way.

Lo'ak bolts into the room, swearing loudly just as Jake unmutes his microphone to talk to someone — one of his higher-ups based on his sheepish smile and annoyed side eye to Lo'ak. His youngest son shrugs carelessly and takes Neteyam by the arm, dragging him outside. Neteyam barely has time to grab his shoes. He puts them on in the car as Lo'ak drives. (Jake does not know Lo'ak is driving.)

Neteyam's backpack is hiding a fat bottle of vodka and a couple of beers. Neytiri always inspects Lo'ak's bag but never Neteyam's. A towel is placed skillfully between the bottles, keeping them silent. 

"We need to pick up Kiri and Tsirya," Neteyam mutters, tying his shoelaces. 

Lo'ak rolls his eyes and curses out a man on a motorbike for cutting him off. He slams a hand on the horn and receives an aggressive middle finger. Neteyam closes his eyes; he hates the way his brother drives. 

They arrive at Grace Augustine's friendly little house. Kiri is already waiting by the door, looking absolutely unimpressed by how late the brothers were. Her skin is pale and she's wearing bright blue eyeshadow. Neteyam smiles at the glitter — he would never be brave enough to wear makeup. He's interested, but he is a military man's first born son.

Kiri gets in the backseat, already bickering with Lo'ak before her butt even lands on the soft, creamy leather seat. 

Eventually, after they collect Tsireya, they finally make it to their destination. Neteyam relaxed when he realises this is Ao'nung's dorm. Their university is huge and it has roughly ten different dorms. 

The party is free for freshmen only. Neteyam smirks at Kiri. She is a second year. Neteyam is a second year biology student but he's in his first year of international relations. Kiri rolls her eyes and hands over the entrance fee to the guys checking their student IDs. Lo'ak holds Tsireya's hand and tugs her inside. He hands the car-keys to Neteyam and is immediately heading towards the very center of the party. Kiri follows, dragging Neteyam along. He sighs and glances around. He spots his surfer boy with Rotxo, Kiri’s surfer boy. Spider is with them. 

Ao'nung looks annoyed until his eyes land on Neteyam's face. Then, as if a switch is flicked, he lights up like a million fireworks. 

The music is loud and Neteyam smiles as he wraps an arm around Ao'nung's shoulder in a half hug.

Ao'nung actually cooes, but it is muted by the music.

Chapter 3: Strawberry Milkshake

Summary:

The boys and girls get fucked up

---

The music is deafening. Neteyam sets his bag aside, pulling out the vodka, to which Ao'nung grins and immediately opens the bottle. He shares it around with Lo'ak and Rotxo. Ao'nung knows Neteyam is the designated driver - Lo'ak is always the designated drunk. To Ao'nung, he will always be the designated dick trying to get in her sister's pants.
Tsireya is giggling along to Lo'ak's words and before long they disappear off to dance. Rotxo vanishes with Kiri - Ao'nung does not care what his best friend does with his former crush, but Neteyam looks worried for a bit as everyone scatters and he can no longer look after his friends. Spider is also gone soon enough.

Neteyam pulls something out of his bag just as Ao'nung takes a fat gulp of the vodka; he chokes when he notices what Neteyam brought along. It's a Pretty in Pink strawberry and banana smoothie. Vodka shoots out of his nose as he leans forward, wheezing. A couple of dancing girls nearby shoot him worried looks, hurrying away, afraid that the might throw up. Ao'nung feels good. Neteyam purses his lips and fixes his friend with an annoyed look, rolling his pale brown, nearly golden eyes. Ao'nung snatched the drink from Neteyam's hand, fingers grazing. He uncaps it and sniffs it. He would die before drinking something as pink as that thing.

Neteyam's face is starting to burn the harder Ao'nung laughs, nose scrunched up. He takes a step back and Ao'nung realises he fucked up. Neteyam's eyes are shining with well-controlled tears. 
Neteyam had always been insecure about his feminine nature. He was not a girly boy by any means except for his painted nails, but he has always preferred gentle things over wildness. Ao'nung knows it is useless to speak - the music is much too loud for his words to be heard, so instead he bows his head and hands the drink back. Neteyam does not drink it. He puts the cap back on and tucks the little bottle away in his backpack before Ao'nung could stop him. Feeling like a right asshole, Ao'nung steps closer and places a hand on Neteyam's shoulder and squeezes gently. 

Neteyam avoids looking at him. 

Ao'nung sighs softly, his mind is a little hazy from the alchohol, but he still knows there are things he can do to recieve forgiveness. He tugs his bun free, letting his hair fall down his back in tight curls. The front of his hair is braided back, so his hair stays out of his face. Ao'nung is insecure like this, but his hair is part of his culture, so just for tonight, he let's his own vulnerabilities show.

Neteyam blinks in surprise before relaxes and tugs at one of Ao'nung's curls, pulling on it gently until he can inspect its lenght when it is straight. Like this, Ao'nung's hair reaches his waist and he is tall, so the hair is insanely long. Neteyam lets the strand go and watched it bounce back, now only reaching Ao'nung's elbow.

Ao'nung takes a lazy sip from the vodka before he puts it to the side. Neteyam is nervous as Ao'nung drags him towards the dancing crowd. Neteyam only knows the traditional fire dances of his mother's people, not whatever weird swaying the young students around him are doing. Ao'nung is proud, unashamed. He grew up on Just Dance with his baby sister. Neteyam only sways side to side, shoulders tense, but Ao'nung is in his element.

The room is dark and there are colourful lights flashing around. The music is unfamiliar to Neteyam. He listens to Aurora, not whatever this is. 

Neteyam is slowly losing his mind in this crowd, nose assaulted by hundreds of different perfumes and body washes. He recognises Ao'nung's easily even amongst the wild mix of scents. Ao'nung wraps an arm aorund his waist and tugs Neteyam close, hiding him from view as he sways along to the beat. Neteyam hides his face in Ao'nung's chest. It's a little sweaty, shirt sticking to his tan skin, but Neteyam does not care. He only came to this stupid party because his father told him to.

His peace is soon interrupted by Tsireya running up to them in tears. She yells over the music, clearly drunk. "Lo'ak is sick!"

"I'm sick of him too, damn-" Ao'nung laughs but Neteyam slaps his arm and the taller male shrinks back.

"Where is he?" Neteyam yells out, to which the petite girl with wild black curls grabs his arm and starts dragging him upstairs. Lo'ak is in Rotxo and Ao'nung's shared room, absolutely destroying the bathroom with his throwing-up. Neteyam cringes, but he is used to it. Lo'ak always skips lunch before parties to make sure the alchohol hits him faster.

The music is quiter here, so none of them need to yell. Ao'nung is having a meltdown in the bedroom area and Rotxo is laughing loudly at his childhood friend, and arm wrapped around a scowling Kiri. Kiri's annoyance is directed at Lo'ak and all the unpleasant smells he's responsible for. She stands and opens a window, leaning out to breathe in some fresh air. Her bangs are messed up and the back of her hair is sticking up; Rotxo looks the same. Neteyam does need to ask to know where they were. He can smell it anyway.

Tsireya hands Neteyam a bucket wordlessly and the oldest Sully child fills it with cold father from the shower. He does not care if he makes a mess. He waits until Tsireya flushes the toilet before dumping to water all over his gagging younger brother. Lo'ak whines out loudly and turns to glare at him. Neteyam waits a second before dumping the rest of the bucket directly in his face. 

"What were you thinking, you moron?" He hisses out. Rotxo steps up beside Neteyam and hands him a beer in sympathy. Neteyam is not paying attention; he takes a sip before spitting it right out, onto Lo'ak's face. 

"Bro!" Lo'ak moans miserably and promptly steps into the shower, clothes and all. 

Neteyam cannot help himself, he starts laughing and Ao'nung peeks into the room, staring at his best friend in undisguised wonder. Rotxo elbows the surfer in the side, making Ao'nung glare at him. Withing the next second, Rotxo's phone is in his hand and he's docummeting everything. Neteyam forgets his responsibilities for the night and takes whatever funky liquid Ao'nung is drinking, handing him the beer instead. Ao'nung doesn't complain. It's an indirect kiss.

Neteyam takes a sip and smiles. It's his usual passion fruit & orange cider poured out into a cup with a couple of ice-cubes.

"Is he going to be okay?"  Tsireya asks, worry clear on her face. The teal eyeshadow she's wearing is smudged slightly. (Probably because Lo'ak likes to caress her face when they dance.)

Neteyam shrugs. "He's had worse."

Tsireya nods, but she does not look to convinced. Kiri, smelling like smoke, steps inside the crowded, stinky bathroom and takes her hand gently, guiding the small surfer-girl out and sitting her on Ao'nung's bed. She sits beside Tsireya and smiles reassuringly.

Neteyam blinks in surprise when he remembers he is supposed to drive everyone home. Ao'nung is smirking down at him, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, beer long gone. He raises a dark brown and sticks his tongue out at Neteyam.  Neteyam sighs and hands his empty glass to Ao'nung. "I need to call my dad."

 

Neteyam steps outside, phone in hand. He is surprised he managed to sneak outside. So many people bumped into him on his way out; someone spilled vodka on his shoes.
He is already dialling their father. It's only midnight, Jake was most definitely awake. Neteyam was right, his father picks up after the second ring.

"Neteyam? You good, son?" His voice is tense with worry.
Neteyam thinks his father has a special power to sense when Lo'ak causes trouble, but Neteyam lies and forces a cheerful twinkle to his voice. He's tipsy, so it's fairly easy.

"We're good, sir," Neteyam knows his father can hear the music coming from the building. Jake is humming along to the song. Neteyam is surprised his old man knows the song but he does not mention it. "I just want to ask if it is alright if he stay the night. The party is actually at Ao'nung's dorm and-"

"Did you drink?" Jake cuts him off, but his voice is calm, amused even.

Neteyam frowns. "I- yes, sir. I did."

Jake's snort is loud and Neteyam can hear his mother's curious question from somewhere in the background. Jake probably signed for her to wait a moment, because he is addressing his oldest son rather than his wife. "Don't mess up, kid. You got condoms and painkillers?"

"Con- What? Why would I need those?" The quesiton flows from his mouth before he can stop himself.

Jake laughs loudly, likely doubling over. "I put them in your bag next to the vodka. Give them to Lo'ak. Make sure he doesn't make me a grandfather tonight. Ronal would shoot me."

Neteyam relaxes before he realises what his father just said. Jake knows he's responsible for smuggling in alcohol. Neteyam clears his throat. "Yes, sir," he says weakly.

"Oh, and son," Jake hums. Neteyam can hear his mother's voice from the other side again but cannot make out what she's saying. "Keep one for yourself incase Ao'nung gets too handsy with you."

Neteyam cannot stop the embarrassed whine from breaking to the surface; it makes Jake Sully laugh. "Dad-"

"Have fun, son. Call me in the morning when you wake up."

Neteyam hangs up and hurries to his bag. He knows Lo'ak does not infact need those condoms because he is blacked out on the sofa, a bucket in front him and Tsireya kneeling by his side, fanning him. Ao'nung is recording his baby brother and Rotxo leans over him, party glasses on his face and a rainbow wig on his head. Neteyam chuckles and shakes his head. Ao'nung pockets his phone and grins at Neteyam. Neteyam wonders when his friends came back downstairs, but it is hardly important.

Neteyam is so beautiful under the colourful, flashing lights. Ao'nung is openly gaping at his best friend. Rotxo smirks at him and pats his back.

Neteyam pulls out the pack of condoms, not caring if anyone sees and Ao'nung's mouth hangs open shock. Neteyam, feeling bold, rips open the small box and pulls out one of them - he tries to ignore his embarrassment because his father knows his size. And Lo'ak's, to be honest, because in some sense, they are identical.

Silently, Neteyam saunters over to Lo'ak; his brother is dripping wet and covered in confetti. Neteyam hands him the condom, to which Lo'ak shrieks out in embarrassment and throws it to Kiri, who blinks in surprise before laughter bubbles from her lips. She does not care that her lipstick is smeared (some of it is on Rotxo's face). Rotxo's clown-wig falls as he knocks a chair over. Kiri grabs his arm and uses her other hand, the one that holds the condom, to salute to Neteyam before dragging her little surfer boy away.

Ao'nung sits down on the sofa Lo'ak is lying on. Lo'ak yells out in pain as Ao'nung sits right on his legs, squishing him. "Get off, fish lip-"

"Fish lip!" Ao'nung laughs."Lips come in pairs, idiot."

"Boy, shut the hell up, you failed maths in highschool!" Lo'ak retorts and Ao'nung flushes bright red. "Your ass is supposed to be graduating this years but you're actually in Neteyam's year."

Tsireya is wheezy with giggles as she kneels by the sofa. It seems Lo'ak woke up enough to start his usual bickering with Ao'nung. Neteyam is highly amused. He throws the box of condoms to Ao'nung, knowing that the surfer never needed them before in his life.

Lo'ak snorts at Ao'nung's offended flinch. "Why do you have those, bro?"

"Dad snuck them into my bag for you."

Lo'ak chuckles, shaking his head. He laughs harder when Ao'nung tears a wrapper open and pulls a condom onto his arm, all the way to his elbow. Neteyam chokes on his silly little smoothie and Ao'nung is insanely endeared. Lo'ak slaps him lightly, making the taller male frown down at him. Ao'nung lies down flat on Lo'ak squishing him into the cushions. 

Neteyam shakes his head and sits down beside Tsireya, hugging her gently. She's amused but it is obvious she is a little uncomfortable by his brother's antics.

It must be two in the morning and Neteyam is sleepy. He does not really ever stay up so late. Ao'nung knows and he smirks. He gets off Lo'ak and swiftly picks Neteyam up, throwing the thin male over his shoulder. Lo'ak shrieks out a laugh and throws the half empty pack of condoms after them, hitting Ao'nung's back as he carries a squirming Neteyam up to his dorm room. Tsireya sits down beside Lo'ak, giggling behind her hand. She knows how Ao'nung feels about Neteyam and secretly hopes their relationship would turn romantic as the night progresses.

Ao'nung disappears upstairs with Neteyam hanging over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The surfer boy opens the door to his room and reels back with a loud shout. Neteyam frowns. He cannot see anyting beyond Ao'nung's lower back and a face-full of his ass. 

"What is it?" Neteyam asks softly, sleepy and tipsy. 

Ao'nung slams the door shut and steps back. "I just saw my best friend balls deep in a girl that's like a sister to me."

Neteyam giggles and Ao'nung forgets to breathe for a second. He lets Neteyam down carefully, steadying his best friend with a hand on his upper arm. Neteyam leans into his side casually and closes his eyes. Ao'nung's pale blue eyes (they look kind of black wit how dilated his pupils are) ghost over Neteyam's face. Ao'nung takes a shaky breath.

There is nowhere for them to go. Ao'nung's room is very occupied and the common areas in the dorm are full of dancing drunkards.

"Dad's car is empty." Neteyam is rubbing his eyes. He chipped his nailpolish. Ao'nung silently swoons. "We can go there."
The keys are in Neteyam's pocket. He pats the specific pocket and nods in approval. 

Ao'nung, despite drinking more, is the one to lead Neteyam outside. They grab Neteyam's backpack on the way out. Jake's car, according to Ao'nung, is disgustingly modern. There is a small TV screen facing the back seats. You can flatten those back completely to make a bed. Ao'nung opens the door once Neteyam unlocks the car and does just that. There's always some blankets in the trunk, so Neteyam retrieves those. Ao'nung helps him make the place cozy. They get in and turn on the small overhead light. Ao'nung glares at it because you can change the colour and he is offended by such useless things. Neteyam sets it to a deep blue and lies down, facing Ao'nung.

Ao'nung does not need a blanket. He is heated by the one too many shots of Vodka and flimsy fruity drinks he's had. Neteyam only had just the one, but it's enough to blur his mind. He locks the car and set the brightness of the blue light to the bare minimum. They can hear the music still blasting in the dormitory. It's some party song from a hundred years ago. 

Tsireya loves music like that, so Ao'nung knows that the song is called Jai Ho. 

Neteyam falls asleep and Ao'nung gazes at him for a few minutes before tying his hair back up and closing his eyes.
He drifts off, a smile on his lips.

Notes:

this was borderline crack-fic but I've been to parties and i know the shit that goes down there lmfao

Chapter 4: Lemon Water and Curry

Summary:

some family dynamics nonsense

---

Ao'nung wakes to knocking on the window. He groans and turns on his other side, but someone is knocking from there too. He blinks his eyes open and is immediately assaulted by Lo'ak's ugly face.

Ao'nung grunts. He knows he looks afwul, but he knows Lo'ak looks (and smells) worse. Neteyam stretches out, T-shirt rising up, revealing his belly button and Ao'nung chokes. There's a piercing there. It disappears out of sight as fast as it appeared, because Neteyam is sitting up and reaching for the car-keys, unlocking the doors so Lo'ak can pry them open. Kiri and Tsireya are with them. There are fat dark bags under their eyes and all of them look like they have been through hell. Ao'nung smirks because he is sure Lo'ak really messed up their night. Tsireya has washed away all of her make-up. Her hair is a wild mess - Ao'nung's heart swells at the sleepy sight of his little sister. She still smells sweet and covered in perfume. Her pink, fluttery tank top is a bit twistes to the side and her long, flowy skirt is wrinkled from sleeping in it, but she looks as angelic as she always does. She lost an earring but she does not seem to be aware of that.

Ao'nung rolls his eyes when he spots Lo'ak's love-struck face.

The younger Sully brother throws his back in the trunk and snatches the car-keys from Neteyam, settling behind the wheel. Neteyam jumps out of the car in a panic. "Bro, get the fuck out! You can't drive."

Someone clears their throat and Ao'nung nearly faints. His father is standing there next to his own gigantic beast of a car. Tsireya grins happily and runs into his arms. Tonowari swoops her up swiftly, cradling her close. None other than Jake Sully gets out from the other side and Neteyam has to lean against the car door for support, knees going weak. He curses the day Jake and Tonowari became coworkers. 

Jake is holding back a laugh as he walks over to his oldest son; he takes one look at Lo'ak and promply drags him out of the car. Lo'ak protests weakly, glancing at a giggling Tsireya with burning cheeks. Lo'ak's putrid scent reaches Jake's nose and he flinches back. He eyes his ruined dress-shirt and decides that Lo'ak is going to be grounded for a week, even if he is nineteen and very much an adult by law. Lo'ak smells like vodka and vomit.

Ao'nung sniggers at the way Jake is handling Lo'ak but freezes when Tonowari places a hand on his shoulder. It is Neteyam's turn to laugh, which he hides by shuffling into his father's embrace alongside Lo'ak. Jake's nose scrunches up and he wonders how he managed to father two so incredibly stinky children. Neteyam, in his defence, only smelled so bad because so many people spilled their drinks on him. Mostly his shoes too.

Tonowari leans down to Ao'nung's ear and whispers something which makes the young surfer flush. With that, Tonowari collects his daughter and waves everyone goodbye, taking her home.

---

The next week, things go back to normal.

Lo'ak smells like body wash and cologne again; Neteyam is calm and focuses on his classes and his part-time job as if nothing happened. 

Neteyam is just about to head home at three in the afternoon on a sunny Wednesday when Ao'nung catches him, grinning proudly. "Need a ride?"

Neteyam blinks in surprise. "On what? Your bicycle?"

Ao'nung rolls his eyes and snatches the waterbottle from Neteyam. He takes a long swig before reeling back in disgust. "What the absolute hell is this, forest boy?"

"Lemon water," Neteyam hums, smirking coyly. 

For a second Ao'nung forgets to breathe at the unusually playful look on Neteyam's face. 
Lo'ak walks by them, rolling his eyes just as Ao'nung had done mere seconds before. "Just fuck already."

Neteyam does not react; he's learned to ignore his brother long ago, but Ao'nung is a different story. He takes a large step over to Lo'ak and squeezes the bottle, drenching the younger Sully in lemon water. Neteyam flinches at his brother's scream. He notices a professor eyeing them in disaproval. They are outside though, so nobody can really berate them for spilling some water.

"Shut the hell up, Sully!" Ao'nung shuts.

Neteyam takes his now empty water-bottle back and sights. He was going to drink that. For second he wonders if Lo'ak is going to get drenched in water every week. Their dad's fancy black shirt is still at the cleaners. Neytiri has refused to touch it. 

"It's Suli Tsyeyk'itan for you!" Lo'ak pushes him and Neteyam sighs, exhausted. He wonders how he will survive a life with Lo'ak and Ao'nung as brother-in-laws.

Neteyam snatches the car-keys from Lo'ak's back pocket. It's a miracle that Lo'ak hasn't lost them yet. His baby brother is too busy wrestling Ao'nung to notice, but Ao'nung notices and smirks. They finally calm down and Ao'nung waves them goodbye. Neteyam drives. He does not trust his hot headed brother to not crash the car after play-fighting Ao'nung. When they arrive home, the house is empty. Their parents are likely at work and Tuktirey is at Ronal's house, having a play-date with Ao'nung's baby sister. 

Neteyam's braids are starting to fall apart, so the first thing he does is grab his mother's little mirror and sets in on the coffee table. He turns on the TV, but does not watch the show that is currently playing. He tugs the hairties from his hair and slowly starts undoing his braids. Lo'ak is stuffing his face in the kitchen, not even bothering to step away from the fridge, staring inside without a thought in his head as he chews on what Neteyam assumes is a cold chicken wing. He gags slightly at the thought. Neteyam hates the taste of meat.

Their home is insanely modern. If he claps, the lights turn on, if he whistles, he can change the heating settings. It freaks him out sometimes, so he does not use the smart features too much. Even their fridge is smart (smarter than Lo'ak anyway, Neteyam thinks with a fond chuckle) because all you have to do is say the word 'ice' and it catapults ice-cubes from the door. Neteyam loves ice-cubes, so he appreciates the function. Jake bought this model specifially because he got sick of Neteyam spilling water into their freezer whenever he tried making icecubes. 

Lo'ak chokes on a bone and Neteyam snorts. He is halfway done with unbraiding his hair when Jake arrives home. He is exhausted and his long drealocks are falling free of their ponytail. 
Neteyam's hair is fluffy and wavy from the braids. His father notices him and grins, walking by and patting his head in greeting. He does not say anything, ears plugged in. Neteyam hears someone talking into his earpiece and realises that his father is far from done with work.

It is seven in the evening when Neteyam finally stands up from  his spot on the sofa. His notebooks are scattered around him. 

Jake takes one look at his son's notes and snorts in amusement. Neteyam's handwriting is disturbing to say the least, especially when he writes in hangeul. Jake always researches his children's interests. He's learned to read Korean, but he does not understand a word. All he knows is that whatever professor of Neteyam's manages to read those cat-scratches must be a pure genius.

Neteyam chooses to ignore his father's laughter and scurries away to shower. In the distance, he can hear Jake and Lo'ak bickering about something - probably the ruined shirt.

---

The following weekend Neteyam has nothing to do. The old lady he tutors in German cancelled their usual Saturday morning class because she has the flu.

Lo'ak is out and about with Rotxo, Spider and Kiri. Tuktirey is at ballet with their father and Neytiri is downstairs in the washroom, ironing their shirts. Neteyam himself has a headache but he does not complain. He's making lunch. It's simple. He's making well-seasoned steamed vegetables and rice to go with it. He adds a little more curry than he needs to because he loves the taste, but before he does that, he seperates a small section for Tuktirey. She is allergic to curry, poor girl. Neteyam knows he could not live without his spices.

There is a knock on the door. Neteyam is in the middle of stirring the rice so he calls out to Neytiri. "Mama! Someone is at the door."

"What did you say, my Neteyam?" Neytiri calls back and Neteyam can hear the hissing of the steamer she uses on their clothes.

"Door!"

Neteyam hears her hurried footsteps coming up the stairs, bare feet slapping agains the wood as she makes her way to their front door. Neteyam blinks in surprise when he hears Ao'nung's voice. He tears his apron off, but it's too late. Ao'nung has already seen him in the fluttery, pink thing. It belongs to his mother. 

The surfer cackles, coming to stand beside Neteyam. Neytiri watches them for a second, a knowing look in her pale brown eyes before she remembers that she is in fact busy. The military wife hurries back downstairs.

"What are you doing here, Nung?" Neteyam sighs out, turning back to his rice. He barely avoids burning it. Once he deems it ready, he adds water to soften the grains.

Ao'nung leans against the counter, crossing his arms. "I was bored. Tsireya is with her friends and Rotxo is busy with your ass of a brother."

Neteyam grunts in response, but he is secretly entertained by Ao'nung's fake hate for his little brother. Ao'nung watches Neteyam cook. His hair is down, falling down his back in soft waves. Ao'nung knows if he brushed it out, it would become incredibly fluffy. Ao'nung also knows that Lo'ak has an afro if his hair in unbraided - he scowls.

"Why do you look like you ate a wasp?" Neteyam laughs softly and the sound makes Ao'nung relax. He turned to look down at Neteyam with a soft gaze.

"I was thinking about your brother's hair," Ao'nung admits. He does not deem it necessary to lie. 

Neteyam is stunned into silence. The food he is making is done so he focuses on that instead. Neytiri comes back upstairs and steals away Ao'nung to chat about school. She's very interested in his subjects. She has a masters in the same subject. Neteyam giggles when Ao'nung tries to explain something to his mother but Neytiri is quick to correct him. Ao'nung does not know that Neytiri has a degree. 

Ao'nung spends the day following Neteyam around as he does his chores. He is entirely unhelpful and Neteyam is grateful when he can finally drag Ao'nung into his room, away from his mother's prying eyes. Tuktirey returns home, but Lo'ak brought Kiri and Rotxo with him, so the youngest Sully is distracted by the only other girl in the house (except for her mother). 

Neteyam lies down on his bed, tapping away on his phone. Ao'nung watches the way his hirt rides up and blinks in surprise, suddenly remembering the cheeky little gem he saw there a few days ago. He throws himself down next to Neteyam, who, used to his friend's behaviour, barely reacts beyond clancing his way. Ao'nung does not waste time, he grabs Neteyam's shirt and swiftly pulls it right off Neteyam's body. Neteyam drops his phone and he punches Ao'nung in the mouth out of reflex. He does not bother to feel bad, not when he is shirtless and Ao'nung is staring at him like he hung the damn stars. 

Ao'nung pouts and rubs at his sore lips. "What was that for, forest boy?"

"What was that for?" Neteyam eyes him in disdain, tugging his blankets around his shoulders. "Bro, what business have you got taking my shirt?"

Ao'nung smirks and tackles Neteyam, every single move he makes is playful and it makes Neteyam relax a little, until he flushed bright red because Ao'nung is grasping his waist, face levelled with his belly button. Neteyam realises why Ao'nung is behaving this way and he lets out an embarrassed whine, trying to pull away, but Ao'nung holds him tight. He pokes the little piercing. Neteyam's stomach twitches and goosebumps rise on his tanned skin.

Then, the door to his room slams open and their entire friend group is there; they all freeze at the sight of them. 

Neteyam is sprawled out on his back, one hand grasping Ao'nung's shoulder, the other tangled in his bun, trying to pull him away. Ao'nung is above him, pressing him into the matress with Neteyam's legs on either sides of his hips, toes curled in mild fright.

Kiri covers Tuk's eyes.

Ao'nung blinks in surprise as Rotxo whistles, impressed. None of them make a move to leave and Neteyam at least manages to tug a blanket over himself. He does not need his loudmouth brother to see his piercing. Ao'nung finally pulls away. Neteyam slams his knees shut and winces at the noise they make. 

"Damn, Ao," Rotxo chuckles. He walks into the room like he did not just walk in on something he wasn't supposed to and sits down next to the two mortified males. He pats Ao'nung's shoulder. "How did you land that?"

Neteyam rolls his eyes at their friend's words and scoots away just as Lo'ak bounces onto his bed, knocking Rotxo over. The young surfer faceplants into Ao'nung's lap and Ao'nung lets out a pained shout as Rotxo's forehead slams in his parts. He curls forward and Rotxo pulls back, looking scandalized. 

"I sweat to God, Sully-" Ao'nung hisses, reaching over and grasping Lo'ak by his ponytailed braids, yanking him back. Rotxo scurries from the bed and decides to simply stand next to Kiri, who is still frozen in shock in the doorway. Tuktirey had already run off somewhere in the house to play.

"Eywa," Neteyam corrects him softly and Ao'nung pauses, staring at him in confusion. 

"Eva?"

"Eywa."

Lo'ak gets off the bed and rolls his eyes. He's utterly unimpressed by Ao'nung's lack of knowledge. 

"What are you talking about?" Ao'nung asks helplessly, brows furrowed. 
Neteyam only shakes his head and tugs his shirt back on, smoothing his hair back into place. "Nevermind."

Kiri saunters out of his room, followed by Rotxo. They move around as if they lived there; Neteyam could never be so at home in his friends' homes.  Lo'ak leaves too but not before winking at his older brother. Neteyam falls back onto his bed and sighs miserably.

"I'm never going to hear the end of this."

Ao'nung lies down beside him.
Lo'ak left the door open. He knows it is on purpose and it's a warning. Ao'nung glances at Neteyam and smiles softly. He does not mind if their friends misunderstand; because he hopes soon it would not be a misunderstanding at all - but he's scared. He does not want to mess their friendship up. It is far more important to him than his own selfish wants and so he leaves Neteyam alone and does not try to pull another stunt like this.

"When did you get that?" Ao'nung asks and Neteyam blinks in surprise.

He hides in his covers and - Ao'ning cannot see - he is fiddling with the little gem. It's teal and shiny. "A week before the party."

"Were you just going to keep it a secret, baby- I mean- fuck-"

Neteyam laughs, cheeks flushing at the random nickname. He shoves at Ao'nung and slams a pillow into his face. His heart is pounding, ready to burst from his chest. He wonders if Ao'nung likes him as more than a friend, but pushes the thought away. 

"Did you drink again, Nungie?"

Ao'nung whines and swats at Neteyam's hand. he snatches the pillow and throws it across the room. "No."

Jake is standing in the doorway, head tilted. He has not seen much, but he heard the young surfer boy call his son 'baby'. Neteyam sits up, eyeing his father curiously. Ao'nung does not notice the military official watching them, too busy trying to sink through the matress in shame.

"Hey, dad," Neteyam hums, trying to seem as if he was perfectly calm. Ao'nung freezes and yerks upright.

Jake can see right through him, but he knows whatever is blossoming between the two boys is fragile so he does not laugh at them like he wants (he will however have a very embarrassing conversation about safety with his son in the coming days). "Dinner's ready, boys."

Neteyam pulls on a warm sweater; Ao'nung bites back a coo because Jake is eyeing him like he's the target and there's a war.

He does not offer to drive Ao'nung home after the meal is over. Neither does Lo'ak; he's too busy giving Ao'nung the stink-eye until Neytiri slaps him in the back of the head, making him choke on a steamed mushroom. Neteyam smiles when he notices that his mother is wearing golden eye-liner. It contrasts wonderfully against her deep brown skin. Neteyam knows he will be rumaging through her makeup-bag soon to figure out what it is. 

Ao'nung is allowed to stay the night; Tonowari is not strict with him. He just wants Ao'nung to tell him where he is. He can't really do much anyway, his son lives in the dorms. Ao'nung could lie but he does not want to. He values his father's trust much more than that. What Ao'nung is not allowed to do is sleep in Neteyam's room with him. He's in the living room by himself. Rotxo and Kiri left a while ago.

The house falls silent. Tuktirey is asleep first after a wild bathtime play session which Neytiri leaves looking like she's been drowned and brought back to life only to be drowned again. Ao'nung feels like he is intruding, so he pretends to be very busy on his phone (he's not. He's just scrolling through his contacts). Neytiri notices of course. She's been a soldier most of her life. She's endeared by the surfer boy on her sofa and hopes that his oldest son may come to realise what a precious thing Ao'nung really was.

Ao'nung is not alone for long. Neteyam sneaks down the stairs silently at around midnight and Ao'nung nearly dies of a heart attack when his head pops up above him. Ao'nung drops his phone on his face; he was watching videos on surfing tips. Neteyam laughs silently, eyes crinkling at the corners. He smells like fresh nail-polish and toothpaste. He sits down by Ao'nung's legs and touches his ankle gently. He looks unsure and out of palce, like he does not know what he's doing in his own living room beside Ao'nung.

Ao'nung does not botther him; he offers blanket and Neteyam shakes his head. He wanders to the kitchen and Ao'nung can hear a soft 'ice' before a tap is opened. A spoon clinks against glass and Neteyam returns with two, one in each hand. Ao'nung chuckles when he realizes what Neteyam made.

It's lemonade.

Notes:

can you tell im trying to include spider and kiri more in this because i always forget to in all of other stories lmfao

Chapter 5: Cardamom Peach Tea

Summary:

Not me naming the chapters after things Neteyam likes

Notes:

Did I really write 10k words in one day? Yep

---

Ao'nung visits home a month later for break and Neteyam comes to realise just how used he was to Ao'nung presence.

Lo'ak misses Tsireya and makes it everyone's problem. Tuktirey loves the drama. She thinks Tsireya is a princess. Neteyam is wearing a tight shirt and loose sweatpants, barefoot. He's wandering around wiping dust when Neytiri grasps his arm and turns him around to face her. Neteyam blinks in surpirse, holding the feather duster awkwardly.

His mother tugs his shirt up halfway and raises a thin brow. 

"Ah, mama-" Neteyam stutters. "I can explain."

Neytiri rolls her eyes (her children got that from her). "No, you can't. But at least Ao'nung will like it."

"Why would Ao'nung need to like it?" Neteyam deadpans, pulling away. Neytiri lets him pull away and Neteyam flushed a furious red when he notices his father eyeing him from the doorway.
He's leaning against the dark wood with his arms crossed and head tilted in a silent question. "I actually would like to know what non-sense excuse you can come up with to explain this one, son."

Neteyam swallows and tries to slip away, but Jake grabs his arm gently and pulles him back into their living-room, Neytiri takes the feather-duster from Neteyam and takes over his task, humming a song she learned from Mo'at, their grandmother. It brings Neteyam no comfort what so ever.  

"Uh-"

Jake nods expectantly. He's hiding his amusement very well because Neteyam pales and looks ready to faint. He thinks he's in trouble and Jake wants to make him know that he cannot just go and do whatever he wants without asking first, as old as he was.
Jake knows of his son's preferences. He's very aware that Neteyam had never even thought twice about a single girl in his entire life. Jake is not even surprised about the belly-button piercing. He thinks it looks cute on his son's thin body. Neteyam thinks neither of his parents noticed the small flag on his wall, hidden along many photographs and drawings.

"Um- it was- I'm-" Neteyam fumbles for words but does not find the right ones. He hangs his head in shame and Jake frowns in confusion. "Sorry, sir. I'll take it out."

Neteyam's voice is shaky and his entire body trembles as he fights off angry dewdrop tears. Neytiri is no longer in the room, vacuuming upstairs. When Jake does not reply, stunned into silence, Neteyam curls into himself even more. 

"Neteyam?" Jake asks carefully and leans down, placing a finger under his son's chin and guiding him to look up.

Neteyam screws his eyes shut and Jake realises why Neteyam never tells him anything about his softer side. Jake sighs out and tugs his son into his arms, caressing the back of his head, fingers running over the soft bumps of his braids. Neteyam cannot stop himself, he hiccups and clings to his father. "I'm sorry, sir."

The vaccuum cleaner stops, but Neytiri does not come back; Jake leads his son to the sofa and sits him down. He knows Neteyam is twenty but he also knows twenty year olds are just big kids who are still trying to find their place in the world. Jake lets Neteyam cry silently in his arms - he wonders just how many times his son's muted crying went unnoticed by him and his heart pangs painfully. Jake whispers gentle words of praises into Neteyam's ears and rubs his back the same way when he was a kid.
Jake remembers when he found Neteyam sobbing quietly in his room, around ten years old, because he gave one of his favourite toys to Lo'ak and his little brother assumed it was for forever and not just for the afternoon. Neteyam felt like he had no right to ask for it back because Lo'ak had so much fun playing with the airplane. It had a remote controller and it made cool noises. 

"You don't need to take it out," Jake hums, snuggling into his son's hair. "It suits you."

Neteyam does not trust himself to speak, so he does not. He does not have to, because Jake knows what this is about. 

---

Ao'nung bursts into his sister's room just as she's wiggling into her tights. She screams, because she's not wearing her dress yet.

Ao'nung ignores her moritification and throws himself onto her bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars glued to her ceiling. "What's an Eywa?"

"What?" Tsireya asks weakly and tugs her soft pink, lacey dress on. It falls down to her knees. "Oh, brother. This could not wait another minute more? I'm getting ready to meet Payiva."

Ao'nung can't remember who the hell Payiva is but Tsireya often mentions that name so he assumes it's one of her best friends. That's My Girl is playing quietly from Tsireya's tiny, pink speaker. Ao'nung turns it off, annoyed by the sounds he would not call music even if he was held at gunpoint. Tsireya pouts, but he does not give in.
"I need to know."

Tsireya sighs and sits down at her desk. It's scattered with shells she collected during their trip to Hawaii. They have only returned two days prior and she was already working on a new bracelet. "You know Lo'ak's mum is of omaticayan heritage. They're an indigenous folk from the forests. Eywa is the Goddess they pray to."

"Neteyam is religious?" Ao'nung gapes, watching his sister giggle at his reaction.

Tsireya ruffles her brother's loose curls and chuckles sweetly. "Why do you think Lo'ak hasn't even kissed me yet?"

"Because he's a coward."

"No!" Tsireya swats at his arm. "It's because their religion views marriage as sacred and a for life thing. They-"

"So basically, you're trying to tell me Lo'ak hasn't tried to get into your pants because he's saving himself for marriage?" Ao'nung snorts. "And you think I'm gonna believe that?"

Tsireya kicks her brother out of her room but not before slapping the back of his head with more force than she needs to. She turns her music back on and plays thank u, next much louder than the previous songs. She knows what she knows and she isn't about to let her brother ruin such a cute thing.

Ao'nung saunters to the kitchen, where she finds her mother nursing their baby sister. He looks away with a furious blush, having seen more than he wanted.
Ronal scoffs at him. "You act like you were not a child once, feeding from this same breast."

"Mama, stop-" Ao'nung cringes and walks to the fridge. He pulls it open and drinks milk straight from the carton. Ronal eyes him with disdain before shaking her head. He bought it with his scholarship money. She cannot stop him from drinking it how he wants to, but she does secretly wonder how she managed to raise such a cave-man. She knows Ao'nung is annoyed by something but she's too busy breastfeeding to really try to find out what it is. She knows Ao'nung will come to her soon, having always been awful at keeping his thoughts private.

She does not have to wait long. They're having dinner, all five of them, when Ao'nung suddenly pushes his plate away and slams his forehead into the table. "Mama, I'm in love."

Tonowari chokes on his water before he huffs out a laugh, wiping at his mouth with a napkin. Ronal enjoyed dining at a fancy table even if it was just a sandwich. Their table was set perfectly too formal for every single meal. 

Ronal raises a brow and glances at her daughter. Tsireya is giggling quietly, hiding her face behind both hands. Ronal's heart fills with warmth at the sound of her sweet laugh. Her focus drifts back to Ao'nung, who is painfully moping around. Tsireya knows, Ronal concludes. "Who are you in love with, son?"

Ao'nung whines out, making everyone at the table flinch. "I can't tell you!"

Ronal sighs, praying for the patience to handle her oldest child's antics. "Well, why not? Lift your head, Ao'nung."

"I can't tell you because it will never be!" Ao'nung, dramatic as ever, sits back up and drags his plate back, stuffing his face angrily. Ronal shares a look with her husband. Tonowari is trying his darned hardest not to laugh. He had been the same when he first started trying to woo Ronal.

Ronal takes a sip of her water. "What makes you think it will never be, Nung?"

Ao'nung sighs, as if exhausted by this whole conversation that he was the one to iniciate. "He's too perfect, ma."

Ronal smiles fondly and reaches across the table to take her son's hand in her own. Their skin is the exact same shade. She caresses the back of Ao'nung's hand and tries to figure out which boy stole his son's heart. There are not a lot he could think of. It is definitely not Rotxo or Lo'ak, which leaves Neteyam as the only option she knows about. She has not met the young Sully often enough to judge their relationship though, so she does not. She's curious. Ronal makes mental plans to ring up Neytiri once she finds the time.

Ronal cannot pry any more information out of Ao'nung so she leaves him alone.

---

Break is finally over; Neteyam is the first one awake out of his family, which is absurd because his mother wakes before the sun.

Neteyam feels an urge to look good, so he takes his sweet time in the bathroom. He puts on a little more cologne than he should and adds some beads to his hair in a hurry. His first class is at ten, but he wants to get some things done before then. The first thing he wants is to buy the golden eyeliner he saw his mother wear some days ago. He would not wear it for anything but art. Then, he wants to go to the library to rent out a book on the Pandora Project.

He asked for permission to take his father's car the night before, so he does not care for Lo'ak to get ready. He hurries out of his home at half passed six in the morning and drives off, backpacks thrown onto the backseat. In this traffic, it will take him a good hour to get to uni, so he listens to music on his way, humming along quietly. Neteyam manages to get everything he wants to do done, and he has time to visit the local convenience store. It sells his favourite cardamom and peach tea. He grabs some milk-chocolate and almond bonbons for Ao'nung, not even thinking twice abour the gesture. 

He makes it to class early as usual but for once, Ao'nung is already there. His hair a little wet and Neteyam concludes that he had swimming practise in the early morning. 

"Hey, Nungie," Neteyam greets him with a smile (Ao'nung definitely did not blush) and sits down next to him, sliding over the box of chocolates to his surfer boy. "How was your break?"

Ao'nung stares at the little gift perched on his desk before he turns his startled gaze to Neteyam. "What is this?"

"I asked first," Neteyam smirks, teasing him.

Ao'nung grins, knowing a game is starting between them. "But my question is more important."

Neteyam rolls his eyes and tugs on the sleeve of his jacket, adjusting it. "Your favourite chocolate, Nungie."

Ao'nung loses the game before it even begins. "Um- thanks-"

"You're welcome."

Then Ao'nung explains what he had been up to and swoons as Neteyam listens to him. Neteyam is beautiful (this is the most common thought in Ao'nung's head these days). Ao'nung loves his large, pale brown eyes and he loves the slightly large front teeth.

"Nungie, are you listening?"

Ao'nung blinks and nods slowly. "Sure. What were you saying, forest boy?"

Neteyam chuckles quietly and tucks a stray braid behind his ear. "I was asking if you wanted to go somewhere today. I've got the afternoon off."

Ao'nung is surprised such a thing is even possible because he has not heard Neteyam utter those words since they turned seventeen and he first started working. "You? A free afternoon? Is the world ending?"

Neteyam frowns and turns away, the tips of his ears red. "If you don't want to, just say so."

Ao'nung panics, sitting up straight. "I do want to!"

Neteyam nods and focuses on the professor in front of him. He does not remember when the balding man arrived but he is sure it was around the time Ao'nung was talking to him about his little hawaiian vacation. 

When their class ends, Ao'nung returns to his dorm. Neteyam still has a few classes to attend. Ao'nung is greeted by Rotxo when he steps inside his room. Rotxo is lounging on his bed, staring at the ceiling until Ao'nung closes the door. 

The shorter male sits up and eyes his roommate. They have not seen each other since they both happened to visit a Sully at the same time. 

Rotxo raises a brow.

"Don't," Ao'nung warns.

"Did you kiss him yet?"

Ao'nung sighs and throws his bad to the side. He sits down by his desk and rubs a hand over his face. "Once three years ago."

Rotxo blinks in surpirse. "Then was that back at the Sully's? Why were you all over Neteyam?"

"I was just trying to see his piercing." Ao'nung doesn't notice Rotxo's disbelief. 

"Neteyam has a piercing?" 

Ao'nung nods. He loves Rotxo but he is not in the mood to discuss anything about Neteyam. He pops a bonbon into his mouth and hums in satisfaction. He puts on his headphones and sets an alarm to make sure he is ready when Neteyam finished his classes.

Rotxo leaves him alone, drifting off to sleep.

Chapter 6: Lactose Free Milk

Summary:

My mother did not let me go to uni today because she's mad at me for spending time with my bf and my friends during the week :")

---

Neteyam drives home one Saturday after his tutoring session with the old lady. 

Ao'nung is waiting for him by the entrance. He's got his backpack with him and it's stuffed full because he's going sleep over. He tries to hide his excited bouncing but Neteyam already noticed. 

"Hey, Nung," Neteyam greets gently and wraps Ao'nung in a half hug. He's somewhat aware of the effect he has on Ao'nung. "You're early."

"You're late," Ao'nung smirks, patting Neteyam's shoulder. 

Neteyam sighs softly and nods once, pulling away. He opens the door and lets Ao'nung inside. "I had to run into the store."

"What did you buy?" Ao'nung grins, throwing himself down on the sofa. 

Nobody is home. Jake is at work — there's some emergency that Neteyam is not allowed to know about. Neytiri is on a date with Ronal. Ao'nung dreads the outcome of that because he can feel it in his bones that they're talking about him and his silly little crush. They took Tuktirey with them, so he hopes that the little girl annoys them into forgetting about him. Lo'ak is hanging out at Kiri’s. Ao'nung scowls at the thought of the younger Sully. Admittedly, he's come to respect Lo'ak a little bit more after his conversation with Tsireya. 

Ao'nung could never wait until after a wedding. He needs to know what he's getting into — literally — because nobody is getting into him for sure. Maybe Neteyam, if he asks nicely. Ao'nung knows very well Neteyam would never ask.

Neteyam starts unpacking and Ao'nung's eyes widen. Neteyam bought his fruity little drinks again. He places them out on the marble kitchen counter and hums along to somesong playing in his right ear. He's only wearing one earpod.

Jake made all of his kids attend music lessons throughout their entire high-school careers. Tuktirey still has violin lessons and Ao'nung's ears bleed whenever he is unfortunate enough to visit at a time the littlest Sully is practicing. Ao'nung himself learned traditional Metcayina singing. He can plan his people's drums and knows all their dances. Sometimes, for the sake of not being seen as too soft, he pretends he can't. Ao'nung does not play any modern instruments but he can play twinkle twinkle little star on the piano. 

Neteyam is singing quietly as he unpacks. His voice is soft and warm. Ao'nung blinks in surprise when he realises Neteyam is singing in German. Ao'nung thinks that language sounds gross, but when Neteyam is the one to speak it, then it is the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. He covers his face with a hand and sighs miserably. He's got it bad. 

Ao'nung is wrapped around Neteyam's little finger. This is why, when Neteyam asks to braid his hair, the surfer always lets him. He knows that will be his fate for tonight too.

"Who's lactose intolerant in your family?" Ao'nung asks suddenly, walking over to help Neteyam put everything away. 

Neteyam perks up at the interest. "My dad and I. Lo'ak too. Mum and Tuk are fine but we won't buy two different milks for that."

Ao'nung hums in response. He gets all sorts of wicked ideas in his head – Lo'ak is lactose intolerant. The two of them had been in a raging prank war since they were fifteen. Neteyam seems to realise what Ao'nung is thinking about because he rolls his pretty pale brown eyes and Ao'nung stills as he stares at his best friend. 

"Don't you dare, Nung." Neteyam turns away to easily put something on the top shelf of their kitchen counters. 

Ao'nung smiles when he remembers how Neteyam is not small at all. "How tall are you, now?"

Neteyam pauses before he shrugs. "Around 1.80. Why?"

"I'm 1.92." Ao'nung is smirking and Neteyam laughs in his face.

"You're a giant–" 

Neytiri is tall, taller than their father. Jake is not small by any means, but Neytiri’s limbs are just so long – like Neteyam's. 

Neteyam hands his left earpod to Ao'nung and Ao'nung blinks in surpirse. The song playing is so soft. Garden by Matt Bednarsky. It suits Neteyam, but Ao'nung knows his best friend only listens to such songs when he is sad. 

"And the cars that rush by like a bullet from a gun," Neteyam sings softly and takes Ao'nung's hand in his, leading him to the center of the kitchen. "Are they just the new predators to those who forever have roamed about?"

"I wonder if the birds think it's a kind of storm, " Ao'nung sings along, voice deep and strong. He holds onto Neteyam's waist and sways gently. Neteyam wants to dance. Soft, slow and classical. "One that never calms down."

This is their song. It's more than a hundred years old but Ao'nung doesn't care. Music was better then anyway. Then, the song changes and it's a girl singing. Ao'nung doesn't understand anything she's saying except for Lalalay. 

They pull away, cheeks red and eyes nervous. Neteyam turns away to make lunch. He washes a bunch of fat white mushrooms and a single onion. He chops them up, steaming the onion on some olive oil. He only adds salt, pepper and crushed coriander seeds. He dumps the mushrooms inside after he adds some garlic and pours a tiny amount of water over the whole thing.

Ao'nung is watching him, listening to his music and humming along. (He can't sing as high as the women Neteyam likes to listen to.)

They're being awfully domestic. They both notice because neither of them are willing to speak. 

Neteyam makes pasta. It's a vegetarian spaghetti something. Ao'nung loves meat – especially fish – but he doesn't complain when Neteyam cooks for him. Besides, who is he to judge? Ao'nung cannot cook to save his life. He'd starve to death if his dorms canteen suddenly shut down. 

They eat in silence, sharing music.

---

Somehow, the following Friday, they end up at yet another party. 

Neteyam only comes because Rotxo is hosting it with Ao'nung. Lo'ak drives them to the dorm and Neteyam is checking his backpack, trying to find something. He finds what he's looking for. Their father snuck a box of condoms in again.  

"You want any?" He hold the box up for Lo'ak to see and his brother flushes. 

"No," Lo'ak insists. "You act like you need them. Dad's just being weird."

Neteyam chuckles and shakes his head. "Technically speaking, he's probably worried we don't need them."

Lo'ak snorts and parks the car. "It's the cultural differences, man. Dad doesn't know what it's like to wait for the right time. He just went in and wooed mum. And then you came and tied them together."

Neteyam rolls his eyes but laughs anyway. Their parents really did only get married because Neytiri got pregnant. In the middle of war. 

Technically, Neteyam ended that war.

They get out of the car and head inside. The music is blasting; Neteyam doesn't recognise any of the songs. There's no entrance fee this time but everyone is told to bring a bottle of something. Neteyam brings the usual; his father did pull him aside just before they left and handed him a bottle of whisky and stern instructions to not even bother coming home if he drinks. Jake doesn't need his sons to drive while drunk.

Neteyam did not cushion his bag with towels. 

They saunter inside and Lo'ak immediately spots Tsireya's dancing form with Kiri and another wild haired girl neither if the brothers know. They wonder if she even goes to school with them. Lo'ak scurries over to her like a moth to flame and wraps her in a bear hug from behind. Neteyam smiles, setting his bag to the side. 

He feels a bit uneasy about this night, so to calm himself, he locates a clean paper cup and pours some vodka – he won't go near the whisky. It makes his stomach hurt. Neteyam finds some biscuits and wonders if the risk is worth it because the inviting little sweetnesses are definitely made with regular milk. 

It's funny how white chocolate is his favourite. 

He has some lactase tablets in his bag so he shrugs and takes a little biscuit, then another. He takes three in total and then deems the taste overwhelming. He does not want a disaster so he scurries to his bag and pops a tablet into his mouth. He has no trouble swallowing it dry.

"Hey there, forest boy." Ao'nung wraps and arm around him and grins all toothy. His cheeks are red and his pupils are wide. "Fancy seeing you here."

Neteyam laughs, throwing his head back. He wraps Ao'nung in his embrace and leans against him. Rotxo and Spider are mucking around a little ways away, playfully hissing at each other – Neteyam cringes. 

"You invited me, Nungie." Neteyam deadpans eventually and leafs them both to sit down on a magically empty sofa. It's oddly hard and uncomfortable, so it's no wonder nobody else is sitting there. Neteyam doesn't mind it. Once again, it's useless to talk because the music is so loud. 

Ao'nung hands Neteyam a drink. It's a bit orange and Neteyam recognises it. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Feels a bit awkward being the only one out of us to be plastered." Ao'nung shrugs. He's not even swaying, sitting perfectly still. Neteyam can tell from the way his eyes are unfocused that he's definitely on his fifth shot of vodka. Maybe more. 

"Should have thought about that before drinking so much," Neteyam retorts but takes a sip anyway. He's drinking slowly as usual and it is driving Ao'nung mad. Neteyam raises a brow. "What?"

"You're pretty."

Neteyam blinks. "What?"

"You're—" Ao'nung flushes. "Pretty stupid."

Neteyam heard him the first time anyway. He sniggers behind his cup and downs the rest of the drink in one go, giggling to himself at Ao'nung's bewildered expression.

"If you can drink like that, why do you always make me wait two hours until you drink a damn Sommersby?" 

Neteyam chuckles and pats Ao'nung's cheek. He knows exactly why he does not drink so fast. His head is already spinning and the room is suddenly way too warm. He takes Ao'nung's hand in his own and tugs him to the dance floor. (It's actually just the middle of the common area.) 

Ao'nung is absolutely flabbergasted by the way Neteyam is acting because he knows dancing in front of others freaks him out. He does not try to conceal his delight as he begins moving in the same rhythm as Neteyam. It's fairly easy to follow the way Neteyam moves. His moves are simple but stunning. He doesn't shake his hips like the girls around them, nor does he roll his shoulders like some of the guys. He's swaying side to side with a look of utter relaxation on his face. He mingles with the crowd so easily but to Ao'nung he's the brightest star. The surfer can't take his eyes off his best friend's body. He hates Neteyam's baggy T-shirts and the wait they hide his waist. He's sure the thight little jeans would leave nothing to the imagination. 

Neteyam is holding onto his shoulder, smiling sweetly. Ao'nung chokes on air and has to turn away to cough, tears in his eyes. Neteyam bends over to laugh – Ao'nung can't hear it over the music.

He tugs Neteyam closer and presses a kiss to his nose. 

Neteyam tilts his head up just a tad at the very last moment, capturing Ao'nung's mouth in a kiss.

 

---

Neteyam is on his hands and knees, cheeks burning and mind hazy. He feels Ao'nung behind him, rocking into him. It's wet and warm and Neteyam has no idea how he ended up in this situation. 

He knows he's going to regret this in the morning but it's too late to stop now. Neteyam is in his T-shirt and simple black socks still. Ao'nung is shirtless — well, he's actually naked except for his shark-tooth necklace. He's grasping onto Neteyam's hips right where his legs begin; it makes Neteyam's head spin even more.

The door is locked. It's one in the morning and music is pounding downstairs. Someone knocks but Neteyam is too far gone from both his desires and his stupid little apple ciders. He can barely see himself but he's vaguely aware of his hair hanging in his face. Why it's unbraided, he doesn't know. Surprisingly enough, he does not feel like he's going to be sick despite mixing drinks.

"You in there, mate?" It's Rotxo. 

Ao'nung's hips still, he's buried to the hilt in his best friend's warm body and Neteyam whines. The surfer boy doesn't even have to answer because Rotxo gives a surprised shout and then laughs. 

"Stay safe, guys–" 

"Fuck off, man–" 

Neteyam slumps forward, arms no longer supporting his weight. He reached back and pats Ao'nung's thigh, urging him to keep moving. 

Neteyam gasps softly with every trust; Ao'nung found the perfect angle. It hurts just enough for it to be good. So good that Neteyam's eyes roll back and he's pretty sure he's crying from the overstimulation. He can't even find the strength to tangle his fingers in Ao'nung's sheets, moaning limply as the surfer fucks into his body. 

Because this is what that is.

They're not making love – they're also not making any sense. 

Ao'nung is panting. He pushes Neteyam's T-shirt up to expose his caramel coloured back. He traces the vitiligo and he has to clench his jaw to stop himself from moaning at the sight. The stripes on Neteyam's back are pale, white. Ao'nung knows he doesn't have vitiligo anywhere but on his back (there's a tiny swatch of white skin on the back of his neck too, but it's hidden by his hair).

Neteyam shuts his eyes and whines so loud, Ao'nung is sure the small group of people heard him. Neteyam flushes as they recieve a knock in the wall and someone cheers them on.

Ao'nung snorts, pupils blown wide. He pulls back, watching himself move in and out of Neteyam's body. His vision is a little blurred from the alcohol. Ao'nung isn't sure which one of them is more gone. 

Neteyam arches his back and presses back each time to meet Ao'nung's trusts. He clenches down and murmurs his best friend's name mindlessly. Ao'nung's hips stutter and his body tenses. 

Neteyam blinks in surpirse as Ao'nung all but falls down onto him. He laughs when he realises what happened.  

Ao'nung breathes out a soft apology before pulling out slowly. Neteyam falls onto his stomach and clenches his legs shuts, shuddering in pleasure. He's utterly blissed out and his brain barely registers Ao'nung turning him on his side, spooning him and reaching around him to grasp at his member. Neteyam's toes curl. 

Ao'nung jerks him off until he's a babbling mess; he reaches down hurriedly to catch his own release, not wanting to make a mess of Ao'nung's sheets too. It's fine if he's the only mess in the room.

Neteyam falls asleep in Ao'nung's arms.

 

---

Neteyam blinks his eyes open. His head is pounding and his mouth is dry. He feels like he is in the softest bed he's ever been in (most likely not, because it's a dorm bed). 

Neteyam doesn't try to sit up. He frowns when he realises he's completely naked. And by Eywa, he does not even have to think too hard to figure out what he's done. 

He floods with shame. He's alone in the room and the blinds are shut; it's a relief because Neteyam feels blinded by his headache. He's dizzy too. Then, he registers the sound of the shower running and shuts his eyes again. He ghosts his hand down his stomach and between his thighs. It's sticky. 

The shower shuts off and Neteyam tenses. He waits and closes his eyes when Ao'nung steps out of the bathroom, hair loose and shiny with moisture.

Ao'nung sits down next to him on the bed and Neteyam wants to cry. He hides under the covers, pulling the pillow onto his head for good measure.

"Neteyam?" Ao'nung's voice is so fragile it makes Neteyam's heart hurt. He does not reply. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Neteyam rubs at his eyes. He slowly peeks from behind the fluffy, dark bedsheets; only his eyes are visible. Ao'nung is waiting patiently for him to say anything. His hair is wet and he's wearing a simple white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He holds out a simple tiny Lindt bonbon and Neteyam reluctantly takes it. It's white chocolate with strawberry. 

Finally, Neteyam shakes his head and his tears fall. He did not think this is how his first time would be; he's glad at least that it was with Ao'nung because he would not survive the shame of shagging a stranger. 

Ao'nung hangs his head and hides his face in his hands. "I'm sorry I got carried away."

Neteyam lets himself relax. He sinks into the mattress, trying his hardest to vanish. Poof. Be gone.

Despite it all, he does not regret it. The five stages of grief flash through him like lightning and he's stuck on acceptance. Neteyam sits up slowly; he winces from his pounding headache. He must look awful with his silly poofy hair and eyebags. 

Ao'nung lifts his head and hesitation is clear in his gaze. Neteyam smiles gently at him (it probably looks more like a grimace though). Neteyam swallowed thickly, ready to risk it all. He leans closer to Ao'nung and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

Ao'nung's eyes widen with surprise before he turns his head, catching Neteyam's lips with his own. 

Notes:

Oops

Chapter 7: Roses and Cologne

---

Jake Sully immediately knows that something happened to his oldest son at that party but he's too stunned by the way Neteyam looks and behaves to even try to ask.
Like last time, Tonowari was the one to drive him to the dorm. Lo'ak is already waiting by the car, dress-shirt (Lo'ak's own) is slightly crinckled, but he seems to be in better shape than last time. Tsireya is standing next to him, playing with his fingers and giggling. 

Jake tries to not swoon at his baby boy and Tonowari's baby girl being all shy together by the car but he cannot resist. Tonowari pats his shoulder, an amused smile playing at his lips. He parks the car and promptly honks, scaring Lo'ak into dropping his phone. They both laugh at the poor kid before getting out. 

Neteyam is nowhere to be seen, so the first thing Jake does is eye Lo'ak, to which his youngest son shrugs. 
"Where's your brother?"

Lo'ak shares a look with Tsireya. They try to act like they have no idea but Jake sees right through the both of them.
"He's probably with Ao'nung, sir."

"Where is Ao'nung, daughter?" Tonowari nudges her gently and she's instantly sinking into his arms, snuggling her flushed cheek against his dress-shirt.

"Probably in his room, papa." Tsireya giggles when when Tonowari kisses the top of her head and Jake tries hard not to laugh at the love-struck look on his youngest son's face.

Jake is about to dial Neteyam when he notices two tall figures loiter out the front doors of the dormitory. Jake is about to smile at his son but the expression freezes onto his face the moment he realises that Neteyam is crying and Ao'nung is trying his best to comfort him but it only seems to make it worse. Jake is about to march over to them, but Lo'ak grabs his arm and shakes his head.

Jake is taken aback by the intense air of maturity in his eyes. "He doesn't want to talk about it, dad."

Tonowari tenses next to him and glances Jake's way. Ao'nung hurries over to his father and tugs him to the side. In an instant, everything is spilling out of him; he keeps no secrets, telling his father, his safe space, all the things that went down that night. Tonowari is surprised that Ao'nung is telling him and not Ronal. He's always been a mommy's boy. Tsireya tugs Lo'ak in the opposite direction to give her brother space; Lo'ak does not even try to pretend to hate him. He doesn't, it's just a game they play.

Tonowari sighs softly. He knows his son will be fine. He pulls Ao'nung into a hug and kisses the top of his head as well, humming to him.

Neteyam is avoiding Jake like the plague, he sidesteps his hug and flinches back when Jake tries to grab his arms. Jake's brows are furrowed. There is nobody else in the parking lot except for them. Even Kiri, Spider and Rotxo are missing somewhere. Neteyam gets into the backseat of Jake's beast of a car and puts his headhones on, not his earbuds like he normally would.

Lo'ak leans into his father's side and whispers in his ear, aware that Tsireya, Ao'nung, and Tonowari are all staring at him. 
"He's going to be fine. He's just shocked because-" Lo'ak has placed Neteyam's backpack in the trunk a while ago, so he goes to retrieve it. He unzips it and holds it up; Jake peeks inside curiously. Then, Jake blinks, unsure what to think because Lo'ak is showing him the unopened pack of condoms and half empty bottle of vodka. Jake glances towards Neteyam before turning back to Lo'ak, raising a brow in question.

He does not even know what he is supposed to assume. Was Neteyam upset because he didn't need the protection or was he upset because he forgot about it? Jake shuts his mind up and brings himself back to the present.

Lo'ak zips the bag up and shoves it back into the car, shutting the trunk door. "He's really freaked out, dad."

"Son, I'm gonna need you to actually explain what is freaking your brother out, because you lost me."

Ao'nung moves to come closer but Lo'ak doesn't want Jake to punch him (he definitely would) so he shakes his head. It's best for Ao'nung to stay back. Tsireya pats his arm in sympathy until Tonowari turns to her. 

"You too, daughter?"

Tsireya flushes bright red and nearly faints from the accusation. "No! Papa it's not even the right time."
Tonowari tilts his head and Tsireya sighs. She takes pity on him. "It's that time of the month, papa."

Ao'nungm freaked out by the mental of image, attempts to scurry back inside the dorm, but Tonowari grabs him by the bun, holding him in place. "Son, this is not how you behave in such a delicate situation. Stay."

Neteyam lies down on the back seat and curls up; he's showered but he can still feel everything. He lifts a hand and knocks on the car window, making Jake turn to him. Neteyam lowers the window and peeks outside. He cannot hear anything over the music he's blasting. Jake leans closer, eyes wide with worry. He's beginning to understand what happened to his son, especially as his eyes land on the dark mark bruising the side of Neteyam's throat.

"Can we get painkillers on the way home?"

Jake lets out a soft laugh and nods. "Whatever you need, baby boy."

 

---

Neteyam is in bed, trying to relax when Lo'ak bursts into his room.

It's still Saturday, and Neteyam still feels stupid for drinking so much. Neteyam turns to face Lo'ak and he cannot help snorting. Lo'ak is carrying a fat plush animal. Payakan. One of the fins have been torn off a long time ago and there is a weird stain on one of the tulkun's eyes. 

"What do you want, moron?" Neteyam chuckles. 

Lo'ak is wearing one of his T-shirts. It's even bigger on him than it is on Neteyam. He slips into bed next to his brother, bringing his stuffed toy with him and cuddling into Neteyam's side.

"Are you hurt?" Lo'ak asks softly, nuzzling closer. "Like, on the outside. I already know you feel like absolute crap."

Neteyam snorts and Lo'ak's silly words already make him feel better. "I'm fine."

"You sore?"

Neteyam sighs softly. "Yes, I'm sure."

"No, I mean, bro, are you sore?" Lo'ak repeats himself and his pale brown eyes are twinkling with mischief.

Neteyam bites his lower lip and simply closes his eyes. He wants to sleep his hangover away while he still has the chance. Lo'ak is currently distrubing said chance. He does not answer Lo'ak's question because he does not think his brother needs to know that he is in fact a little sore because he was drunk and absolutely unprepared.
They both fall asleep snuggling each other and Payakan, too. 

Jake peeks inside the room and cannot resist snapping a quick photo. It comes at a bit blurry (he is not wearing his glasses so he does not notice) and the light is horrible but you can still see the two boys cuddling in Neteyam's large bed.

He leaves them alone after that.

---

 The next morning, Ao'nung shows up on the Sully's front door step with the fattest boquet of flowers Neytiri has ever seen. She almost does a double-take when she opens the door.

"Ao'nung?" She steps aside and lets him into her home.
She smiles because he looks a little out of place and nervous. Neytiri is good at reading people; she knows that the angry scrunch of his flat little nose actually lacks anger. He's scared.

"Good morning, Mrs Sully." Ao'nung glances around the living room. His hair is down, falling down his back in a large black cloud. he still has the front braided back. Neytiri likes this look on the young male. "Is Neteyam home?"

Neytiri hums. She's wearing that same silly pink apron Ao'nung once caught Neteyam in. "Wait here, I'll fetch him."

Lo'ak saunters out of the kitchen with a piece of bread hanging out his mouth; he freezes when his eyes land on Ao'nung before he tries to laugh, but ends up choking on a piece of bread. Ao'nung rolls his eyes. He waits, standing in the middle of the Sully's disgustingly fancy, white and cream living room and he feels like a fool for bringing the flowers.

Neytiri returns with Neteyam following after her; he's wearing baggy shorts and a T-shirt. It's a matching set, so they need to be pyjamas. 
Lo'ak is in the doorway still, until his mother gives him a menacing look and he scurries away to his room, disappearing upstairs. Neytiri nods to Ao'nung, then disappears into the kitchen.

Neteyam froze half-way down the stairs. He's wide-eyed and his face is so red, Ao'nung thinks he might faint. Neteyam is staring at the roses and he looks like he is on the verge of another fit of tears. Ao'nung shuffles his feet and adjusts his hold on the roses to show the tiny little plush ikran hiding behind the redness. 

Neteyam practically flies down the rest of the stairs (Neytiri is peeking at them from the kitchen but they don't notice her. She giggles).

"Nungie-" his voice is but a mere whisper and he looks so small as he hesitantly takes the offered gifts. He sets the roses to the side and inspects the ikran. It smells like Ao'nung. Neteyam notices a wet patch on the side and chuckles. Ao'nung sprinkled his cologne there.

Ao'nung does not say anything, he only watches Neteyam and his heart feels like it is about to burst out of his chest. The young male in front of him is blushing but he seems happy, so Ao'nung takes his chances and steps closer. Neteyam's eyes twinkle playfully and he steps into Ao'nung's embrace, smiling up at the surfer boy.

Ao'nung sighs in relief and rests their forehead together. 

Neteyam closes his eyes and hugs Ao'nung around the shoulders, holding onto the plush toy behind Ao'nung's back. They hold each other silently for a while until the sound of a camera clicking draws them apart. 

Neteyam turns to face the noise first and he laughs quietly. Tuktirey is there in her ballet skirt and leotard. Neteyam doesn't know what those are actually called but she's got those weird flat dance shoes on her feet too. She's holding their mother's phone. She takes another photo and this time the automatic flash nearly blinds Ao'nung and his sensitive pale blue eyes. 

"You looked so cute!" Tuktirey squeals before running away. Neteyam chases after her, laughing along with the little girl.

Ao'nung watches them fly about the house; he cannot focus on the cuteness of his best friend's little sister because he's too busy staring at Neteyam. 

Neteyam is so beautiful. Ao'nung is in love with his freckles, his pale blue eyes and his bunny teeth. He loves the way Neteyam almost looks like a tanned white boy but his nose is flat and a little wide. His eyes are huge and always full of curiosity. Neteyam is perfect but there is one thing that only Ao'nung knows about him. 

Ao'nung is the only one who knows what a mess Neteyam becomes under him. 

He swallows thickly because he really does not need to be thinking about this right now. There is a child present and he's thinking inappropriate thoughts about the house-owner's son. He isn't sure if Neytiri knows what happened between them just that Friday. It's only Sunday. 

"Nungie," Neteyam calls out to him from the top of the stairs. "Are you just going to stand there or will you come up?"

Ao'nung blinks, dumbfounded before he nods slowly and hurries up the stairs. He can hear Neytiri’s amused laugh from the kitchen and sometimes smells amazing. 

Tuktirey saunters off into Lo'ak's room and Ao'nung can immediately hear bickering coming from inside. He snorts when he hears Lo'ak whine loudly. Tuktirey wants to give him a makeover so he can be a better Prince to Princess Tsireya. 

Neteyam takes his hand and leads Ao'nung into his room. Ao'nung does not tell them that Tsireya is a real princess, nor that his parents are actually the leaders of their tribe. He thinks it doesn't sound modern enough for a family like Sully's.  

Neteyam sets the ikran down on his bed. He doesn't have many pillows, nor does he have any plushes (Lo'ak does). Neteyam's room is fairly simple but it still feels like home to Ao'nung. 

Neteyam's desk is scattered with books and his laptop is turned on. He was probably studying. Exam season is approaching and Ao'nung knows he should learn too, but he's too busy being in love.

Ao'nung sits down on Neteyam's bed as the shorter male tidies up his desk. He's so effortlessly perfect that Ao'nung wants to scream. He settles on scrunching his face. Neteyam turns to him and laughs in surprise at his surfer boy's face. "Nungie, are you okay?"

"Can I— do you—" Ao'nung takes a deep breath as Neteyam sits down next to him. "Would you like to go out with me? On a date."

"Just one?" Neteyam smirks coyly and Ao'nung blinks in surprise. He's being teased.

"There can be more than one," he replies simply and glances to the side. 

Neteyam hums in response before tilting his head. "In that case, sure."

Notes:

not me googling "brown skin with hickey" to research what im supposed to describe only to be assaulted by things i did not want to see

Chapter 8: Rose Petal and Strawberry Tea

Summary:

Added some texting bc I got curious 🤪

Notes:

Topping from the bottom basically
*sips holy water*
You can read this Sophie it's not wild

---

Ao'nung borrows Tonowari’s enormous car. 

He runs to the store, buying Neteyam's favourite cider and that weird cardamom peach tea he always brings to lectures. He spends a good thirty minutes trying to locate the lactose free section (he finds the gluten free things first). Ao'nung hesitates in front of all the weird lactose free chocolates before he gives up and he snaps a photo. He texts Lo'ak. 

It takes Lo'ak a good few minutes to respond, but he does and he's actually helpful.

Ao'nung: I need help. What does Neteyam like?

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan: you xd

Ao'nung: Please, I've been standing here like an idiot for ten minutes now.

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan: fine he likes that purple chocolate stuff on the right xddd but he eats anything if you just buy lactase tablets lmao

Ao'nung does not bother texting back (he hates the way Lo'ak types, but at least he doesn't use emojis). Ao'nung has no idea what a lactase tablet is so he just prays Neteyam brings some with him. 

Ao'nung gets some regular chocolate too and before he drives to the Sully's house, he stops at a weird asian tea shop. Neteyam likes his tea to have bubbles in it. Boba? Ao'nung cringes as he remembers the taste when he tried Kiri’s bubble tea. She likes the milky ones but Ao'nung knows (he doesn't, actually but he is certain he's correct) that Neteyam prefers fruity tea. (Because he himself is fruity.) 

Ao'nung gets his phone out and opens Instagram. He scrolls through Neteyam's highlights and locates what he is looking for. He shows the photo of the tea to the lady working behind the counter. She seems surprised until Ao'nung explains he's not buying the tea for himself. Then, she smirks at him. 

Ao'nung is then educated that the tea on the photo is rose petal and strawberry flavoured and the bubbles on the bottom are peachy.

Ao'nung does a double take at the price of the drink he ordered in large and secretly prays in gratitude that his family is well off because the drink is insanely expensive. 

Finally, only ten minutes late, he arrives and parks his father's car in front of Neteyam's house. He doesn't honk. He gets out and rings the doorbell like any self-respecting courter.  

Neteyam opens the door and Jake is behind him until he is yanked out of sight by Neytiri. Neteyam is smiling as he hurries down the few stairs in front of their door and reaches their gate. He claps for it to open and Ao'nung rolls his eyes. Too modern. 

"Hey, Nung." Neteyam wraps him in their usual half hug but Ao'nung is having none of it. He scoops Neteyam up in his arms and spins him around. 

Jake is watching from the window (until he isn't because Neytiri slaps him in the back of the head).

"Hello," Ao'nung grins. He's trying to find a nickname for Neteyam too but they all sound weird and not at all worthy of the beautiful creature in his arms. 

Neteyam has his hair down. Ao'nung's mouth hangs open at the sight. He's straightened it. 

They get in the car and Ao'nung drives carefully. He doesn't usually drive so calmly but Neteyam has complained to him before about how much he fears for his life next to Lo'ak so Ao'nung makes sure to he cautious. 

Ao'nung takes him to the outskirts of town. There's a forest with an abandoned playground. He parks the car under the starry sky and opens the trunk of the car. He flattens the seats back and covers them in two soft white blankets he stole from his mother's closet. There are two matching pillows. 

Neteyam is watching him, smiling softly. He's just standing around. Ao'nung remembers the tea and retrieves it from the drink holder. He hands it to Neteyam, who nearly takes a step back in surprise. 

"You know what bubble tea is?" Neteyam is laughing as he stabs the straw into the top. The ice has melted, but it's alright. 

Ao'nung nods and gets back to setting up the car. "Yes. You posted it on your story."

"That was at least two years ago."

Ao'nung does not blush. No. He just gets a little red in the face but that is different. It's because he's working hard. 

"Thank you, Nungie," Neteyam murmurs before he takes a sip and closes his eyes like he just tasted the most delicious thing in the world. Ao'nung is tempted to try but he does not ask. 

Tsireya helped him secure some purple fairy lights to the interior of the car above their heads and he turns them on. 

Neteyam steps closer and peaks inside. He seems impressed which in turn makes Ao'nung happy. 

Ao'nung has been making a playlist of the songs Neteyam sends him on Snapchat or posts on his stories. He connects his phone to the car's speakers and but them on shuffle. The volume is low and the songs are all a little sad. Ao'nung knows they mirror Neteyam's mind. 

Ao'nung has never been allowed into those thoughts and he doesn't pry. He sits down and pats the spot next to himself. Neteyam sits down next to him and takes his shoes off; Ao'nung copies him and tries to hide his swooning when he discovers that Neteyam's socks are mismatched again. One is a pale blue, the other is white with small dots on it.

Ao'nung opens a can of coca cola and sips it lazily. All the snacks are gathered in the middle of their makeshift fort. 

Neteyam sips his tea much faster than Ao'nung has ever seen him drink anything else. 

Neteyam glances his way and notices him staring. He grins, bunny teeth on full display. His phone buzzes and he blinks in surpirse. There's a new text and it's from his father.

Sir Father: Have fun, baby boy. Use protection xoxo 

Neteyam giggles and lets Ao'nung lean over to read the message. 

"Your dad calls you baby boy?" Ao'nung asks, flushing slightly. 

Neteyam nods and silences his phone. "Yes. Why? What does yours call you?"

Ao'nung shrugs and lies down on his side, reach up and putting the half finished can of coca cola in the drink holder. "Son mostly."

Neteyam moving his feet around along with the rhythm in circles and Ao'nung watches him. Eventually, Neteyam notices the snacks and visibly perks up as his eyes land on the purple packaging. "Why did you buy this?"

"It's lactose free."

Neteyam grins and leans over Ao'nung's body, face to fave. "If you're trying to woo me, it's working.

Ao'nung grins back, silly with love. He places a hand on Neteyam's cheek and searches his face with his pale blue gaze. Neteyam leans down and kisses him.

Ao'nung squeaks in surprise because he does not expect Neteyam to be so bold when he is sober. The surfer recovers quickly and deepens the kiss with a hand on the back of Neteyam's head. 

Neteyam gets in his lap, wrapping his hands around Ao'nung's wrists before pinning them above his head. Ao'nung blinks in surprise and tries to pull free but Neteyam is stronger than him.  

Neteyam is smirking down at him and Ao'nung cannot do anything to hide the obvious tent in his pants. He swallows thickly because he is suddenly so nervous.

Neteyam notices and smiles gently, shifting so he's sitting directly on Ao'nung's arousal. 

"What— Neteyam, what are you doing?"

"You," Neteyam replies easily.

Ao'nung is swept off his feet by this side of Neteyam. Neteyam covers them in a blanket. There's nobody nearby, but he feels better this way. Ao'nung lets Neteyam tug clothes off and bites his lips as he does because this is different for him too. 

He's painfully sober and he feels like he's doing this for the first time all over again. 

Neteyam is responsible, this time,  he rolls the condom onto Ao'nung and covers him in lube. He sinks down onto Ao'nung's lap and braces himself on his shoulders. Ao'nung holds his hips in a loose grip. There is a tiny bit of vitiligo sneaking onto his right hip bone that Ao'nung cannot tear his eyes away from until he notices that Neteyam switched out his piercing to a longer, dangly one. It's silver. 

Ao'nung moans softly and submits to Neteyam. 

 

---

Ao'nung takes Neteyam home the next morning. 

He kisses him goodbye, unaware of Tuk and Lo'ak peeking at them from behind the curtains. Ao'nung let's Neteyam take the left over sweets home with him and drives off. He needs to take the car home and take the bus back to the dorms. 

Neteyam enters their home and is greeted by his father. Jake is pretending to read a newspaper on the sofa. He peers up at his oldest son and playfully rolls his eyes. Neteyam's shirt is on backwards. 

Neteyam shakes his head at his father's knowing look. He saunters upstairs to shower because he smells like lube and sweat. His hair is tangled slightly but he washed it the day before, so he leaves it alone and ties it in a simple bun.

Neteyam avoids his brother like the plague because Lo'ak develops a sudden interest in his sex life and Neteyam would prefer to keep it private. 

Neteyam plays dress up with Tuktirey and let's himself he roped into becoming her little ballet student. He discovers that he's surprisingly flexible. Flexible as in he can bend back and touch his toes to his head.

Tuk shrieks in delight and Neteyam ends up having to show their parents. Neytiri is happy for him, but Jake is unnerved by the way his son's spine can bend. 

---

The next Time Ao'nung comes to class there are three entire girls around Neteyam who he's never seen before. 

Actually, he recognises one because she's Tsireya's best friend. Payiva notices him and smiles. Ao'nung is not feeling very friendly. One of the girls is almost identical to Payiva. She only glances towards Ao'nung because she's busy scribbling something down. 

Neteyam is teaching them. 

He's speaking a language Ao'nung does not recognise. He figures out fairly quickly that the twins are second year Korean majors and the third random girl is a first year. 

And then he promptly ignores them. 

Neteyam rolls his eyes; he knows Ao'nung is jealous. 

"See, and then you have to pay attention, because if you want to change this sentence into formal speech, the entire word changes, not just the conjugation." 

The first year looks absolutely distraut at the information but the other two nod along, like they already knew this. They probably did. 

Neteyam is patient, because the first year messes up translating something three times before she finally gets it right. Neteyam graces her with a smile. Ao'nung pretends that he's no jealous. He is. But that's a secret.

"Oh, wait," Payiva's copy (Ao'nung did not pay attention to any names and he does not plan to) speaks up. Her voice is soft. She's pretty. Too pretty for Ao'nung's comfort. "I forgot. Do you use the Chinese or the Korean number system when saying how old you are?"

"Korean!" The first year seems proud of herself for knowing something. Neteyam nods. 

Meanwhile, Ao'nung is trying to figure out what the hell number systems are and what they have to do with languages.

The professor arrives to their organic somethings class and Ao'nung is glad the girls leave. He takes pretty notes for Neteyam because Neteyam only came to class to be there. He doesn't raise his hand and neither does he take notes. He's practicing that weird writing.

Ao'nung tries to be annoyed, but then he realises there's no reason for him to be annoyed so he stops. He leaves Neteyam alone but he does take a secret little photo of him because he looks ridiculously adorable in his thin-rimmed, large glasses. He only wears them when his eyes are tired.

Ao'nung is trying very hard to stay focused because Neteyam is depending on him to take decent notes but he can't keep looking at their ugly little bald professor when his beautiful new boyfriend is sitting right next to him looking so cute. 

Neteyam looks at him from the side of his eye and Ao'nung flinches away because damn, that's terrifying.

The professor gets a phone call half way through, so he decides to hold a ten minute break. 

Neteyam pulls out sesame & salt whole wheat crackers and offers some to Ao'nung. Ao'nung tries one, but it's so dry he has trouble swallowing it. 

"What was that, Nung?"

"What was what?" Ao'nung asks, brows furrowed. He's only trying not to choke.

Neteyam rolls his eyes. "With the girls. Why are you so mad at them? They're all Tsireya's friends."

Ao'nung flushes bright red and this time he chokes on air. Neteyam pats his back. He isn't angry, he's curious and borderline amused. 

"I'm not mad."

"You looked like you wanted to strangle them."

Ao'nung wants to sink into the ground in shame but he resists. "No, I didn't."

Neteyam stuffs his stupid little crackers back into his bag and Ao'nung hopes he gets bloated from them because he's annoyed that Neteyam is so good at reading him. 

The professor returns and they stop bickering.

---

There's a party next weekend. 

Lo'ak wants to go. He begs their parents and they agree with one condition. Neteyam needs to go as well. 

Ao'nung is thrilled. 

It's not at his dorm this time, but the one a few streets down. He walks there with Tsireya, Rotxo and Kiri because it doesn't take long to get there. Neteyam drives by them and doesn't stop to pick them up. 

Ao'nung nearly chokes when he notices three girls in the back seat. Lo'ak is in the front next to Neteyam. He sticks his phone out and records himself flipping them off before he blows a kiss to Tsireya.

Neteyam doesn't check his backpack anymore and he buys his own condoms now. Jake has started putting them in all of Lo'ak's pockets just in case. He really does not want Ronal to shoot him. He's also too young to be a grandparent. He's barely forty. Neteyam was born when he was 19 and Neytiri was 18. Jake has a heart attack when he realises that Lo'ak is also nineteen. 

Neteyam parks the car and waits for Ao'nung to arrive too. Lo'ak goes inside with Tsireya's friends to find a good spot to hang out. 

He does not need to wait for long because Ao'nung arrives soon enough. He looks sick and tired of how affectionate Rotxo and Kiri are. Tsireya is giggling as usual. 

She's wearing a floor lenght skirt. It's pale blue, sort of green. Her top is self-made. It shows off her tiny little belly button. She's wearing butterfly earrings and a necklace made of white shells.

Kiri’s outfit is all brown. A skirt and a crop top. She's only wearing her mother's necklace, nothing else.

It's very warm that night. 

Neteyam is feeling bold. He's wearing a waist chain that nobody can see and his top is thight. He's wearing loose, cream coloured pants and dress shoes. Ao'nung can see the outline of his belly-button piercing and he knows so can everyone else. 

He hasn't seen Neteyam paint his nails in a while, but tonight they're painted the same shade of gold as his eyeliner.

Ao'nung's knees feel weak because Neteyam is so gorgeous — and he's smirking coyly right at Ao'nung because he knows. 

The two of them are left alone outside as their friends go inside. Ao'nung presses their chests together and he smiles down at Neteyam. The smaller male lifts his chin to look into his eyes. Their lips meet halfway in a sweet little peck.

Neteyam takes Ao'nung's hand and walks inside, dragging him along.

Ao'nung doesn't remember what he imagined Neteyam would he like as a boyfriend but it was not this. He thought the smaller male would be shy, but he isn't. He's bolder than Ao'nung. Stronger and more sure of himself. 

He leads. He leads them when they walk, when they kiss, when they— Neteyam is a leader and Ao'nung would follow him to the end of the world. 

Inside, they join their friends. Nobody is dancing yet, they're just hanging around. Tsireya is plastered to Lo'ak's side the same way Rotxo is to Kiri’s. The three girls are occupied with talking to Tsireya for the most part and Ao'nung is secretly pleased by that.

They're cute, he has to admit. They look exactly like the kind of girls he imagined Tsireya's friends to be like. Payiva has wild hair, it's almost curly. Her eyes are a deep brown just like her sisters. 

"What was your name again?" Kiri smiles at her. 

The twin sister replies. Her hair is needle straight with some blond highlights. "Rey'ka. You're Kiri, right?"

"Yes. And who is that?" 

The shortest one bounces over and it's quite obvious she already drank something. "I prefer to be called Apple." 

Kiri is surprised but then she laughs and nods. They quickly become friends and this leaves Ao'nung room to focus on Neteyam. The oldest Sully is a little uncomfortable with so many people around them. He's watching everyone talk but doesn't say anything unless it's to someone he knows well. 

Lo'ak is the first to drink (except for the fruit girl). He hands red paper cups to everyone and pours them each a shot of vodka. 

Ao'nung is pleasantly surprised when his sister's twin friends only try the drink before they both decide they don't want it. Fruit Loops is a different story. She's fighting for her life trying to drink it but she shivers and gags with every single sip she takes.

Neteyam straight up passes his cup to Ao'nung. "You're not drinking, baby?"

"I actually want to drive dad's car back for once." Neteyam sits down between Lo'ak and Rotxo with no space for Ao'nung. He decides to stand behind Neteyam, massaging his shoulder with his free hand. 

Tsireya drags her best friends off to dance and they look absolutely adorable as they all sway around. 

Notes:

Brb I'm choking on Mr Kim Namjoons new insta post dhejdjdne

If yall read my other works you know I can't resist addig ocs xd

Chapter 9: Blueberry and Mint

Summary:

Wanted to explore silly party boy Neteyam some more

Notes:

Side note but why does my autocorrect keeps changing present tense verbs into past tense dhdhdbd

---

Kiri is dancing with Rotxo as Lo'ak is taking overly zoomed in photos of them.

It's dark safe for the colourful flashing lights. Neteyam is sober so he doesn't dance. Ao'nung is drunk but he doesn't dance because Neteyam is not dancing. 

"You sure you wanna drive home again?" 

Neteyam sighs. He doesn't but he does want to be the perfect son. His resolve is strong but Ao'nung's puppy eyes are stronger. 

Neteyam takes the paper cup from him and sniffs it curiously. Ao'nung is watching him like he hung the stars. "Mango cider."

Neteyam chuckles. Mango makes his stomach ache so he saunters over to the common kitchens of this foreign dorm and rumages around until he finds what he's looking for. He steals someone's muffins. 

On his way out he spots Lo'ak lying on the floor with a tower of empty paper cups balanced on his head and a second, smaller tower on his stomach. His baby brother is trying hard to not laugh because he's ticklish.

Neteyam snaps a photo and sends it to Jake Sully. The reply is almost instant. It's only around eleven and Jake is having yet another late night.

Sir Father: Wow! Bring him home in one piece, please. Haha.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan: Can we stay the night?

Sir Father:  Did you drink?

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan:  Not yet. Kind of want to though.

Sir Father:  Whatever, son. Just don't die. Make sure Lo'ak doesn't die either. He looks like he's on the verge of it. Haha. 

Neteyam cringes and pockets his phone. He sips his drink as he leans against Ao'nung's warm body. They're dancing around lazily and Neteyam is starting to feel a little bubbly.

He blinks in surpirse when he hears his brother scream and when he looks over he sees Lo'ak upside down doing a keg stand of all things. He takes another photo. Rotxo is holding him up with a tall male Neteyam recognises as Tarsem. He definitely graduated last year, and Neteyam has no idea why he's there. 

Ao'nung is cackling loudly at Lo'ak, slapping his knee as he bends over.

Neteyam feels at peace with his people and his sense of security is only heightened when he remembers his parents and how they support him. Neteyam knows he could call Jake any time for help and his father would come as soon as he could. It's nice to know that he's loved and cherished.

So he let's himself go and offers himself as the next candidate for the keg stand. Lo'ak is in no state to lift him, so Tarsem and Rotxo do. Ao'nung is filming him, hands a little shaky because he's laughing so hard.

Neteyam survives the keg stand. Nobody drops him and he doesn't choke or gets drenched in alcohol. He's a bit wheezy.

It's beer but just this once he survives the putrid taste of it, especially since Ao'nung is staring at him like invented eyesight itself. Neteyam's shirt slides up and it's so tight that it stays that way, exposing the cheeky little piercing and some of the pale patches of skin on his back. Ao'nung is trying to figure out how he got so lucky, because Neteyam is the most beautiful flower in the bouquet. He's the brightest star on the night sky and Ao'nung's favourite key on the piano. Neteyam is to Ao'nung what Ronal is to Tonowari or what Neytiri is to Jake Sully. Ao'nung knows it's silly, but he would marry Neteyam right in the moment if he could. He can't, so he settles on daydreaming. 

Ao'nung is leaning against the wall watching him, letting him mingle with the crowd. He's having fun just watching his new love enjoy himself without any of his insecurities ruining his fun. Neteyam is switching around between dancing and chatting. 

Neteyam is with Kiri now, twirling her around; her smile is so wide Ao'nung cannot help but smile as he looks at her. He likes her, especially since Tsireya also likes her. Kiri is nice and sometimes she's a lot like Neteyam; she's just written in a different font.

Neteyam is written with perfect punctuation and printed letters; Kiri is all lower-case and cursive, but their font size is eleven.

Then, Ao'nung realises that both Lo'ak and Tsireya are gone. The three best friends are swaying around to the music still and he hurries over to them. They don't notice him at first, holding hands in a circle and giggling amongst themselves.

"Have you guys seen Tsireya?" He shouts over the music, trying to will away his panic. 

He recieves some startled stares and an annoyed eyeroll from the shortest one. She's not the one to reply.

"She's in the bathroom."

Ao'nung purses his lips because he has no idea where the bathroom is.He's never been here before. The three girls seem to take pity on him because they take him by the arm and lead him upstairs, giggling to themselves about something completely different. 

Ao'nung's hazy brain registers the words 'kinder eggs' and 'bubble tea'. He snorts and rolls his eyes. Girls are weird and he's never going to grow out of this opinion. 

Tsireya is indeed in the bathroom but Lo'ak is not with her. Ao'nung sighs in relief. He doesn't want Tsireya to end up in the same situation as he did with Neteyam. He doesn't really care about Lo'ak but he still goes to look for him because Neteyam cares about that fool and Ao'nung cares about Neteyam. 

Lo'ak is outside and has fallen over into a bush.

For a second, Ao'nung wonder if he passed away and this Eywa person took his soul. But then Lo'ak snores and Ao'nung relaxes. He takes a photo and sends it to the group chat with everyone in it.

Rotxo is immediately outside. He has his clown wig on again and Kiri’s lipstick is smeared on the corner of his mouth. The short haired surfer boy leans over Lo'ak and takes a selfie with his knocked out form.

Ao'nung smirks and sips his beer. He's got some blueberry gum in his pocket because Neteyam doesn't seem to like kissing him when he has beer-breath.

"How does he always end up like this?" Rotxo asks, chuckling softly. He poked at Lo'ak's stomach.

Lo'ak is wearing shorts and a short-sleeved dress-shirt. The shirt is black and the shorts are white. They're loose and they ride up on his thighs. 

Ao'nung is eyeing him with distaste until he notices the striped patterns on Lo'ak's thigh. Ao'nung never knew that Lo'ak had vitiligo as well but for some reason it makes his annoyance fly away for a few moments. Lo'ak isn't so bad, Ao'nung thinks to himself, but there is something broken about him just like Neteyam. 

Ao'nung knows the answer to Rotxo's question. "Because he's the same lightweight as Neteyam." 

"What about me?" Neteyam hurries outside and he has his phone in his hand. He's in the group chat too and when Ao'nung looks at his phone, he can see that Neteyam saw the photo. "Is that Lo'ak?"

Ao'nung watches as Neteyam easily picks up his little brother and carries him inside. There are some guys chilling on a nearby sofa but when they notice Neteyam they stand and help him set Lo'ak down. 

They're laughing and Neteyam laughs along with them because he knows Lo'ak is going to be fine. The baby Sully is strong.

Ao'nung follows him around, hovering nearby incase something happens that he doesn't like. He's in a really protective mood that night but he does not know why. Maybe it's because Neteyam lost count of what he's been drinking and Ao'nung knows. Or maybe it's just because he's in love and he worries about his loved ones.

Neteyam leaves Lo'ak alone when Tsireya finds them. She always ends up looking after him. Ao'nung scowls. For some twisted reason, she enjoys doing it, if the way she's cradling Lo'ak's face is anything to go by. She didn't seem to drink much. Her hair is tidy and her makeup is not smeared. 

Ao'nung is fuming in a nearby corner when Neteyam comes up to him, smirking. He backs Ao'nung up against the wall and the surfer's knees almost buckle. 

"The cars empty," Neteyam grins, placing a hand on Ao'nung's hip and this time Ao'nung's knees actually do give in. Neteyam laughs at him and it's the sweetest sound he's ever heard.

---

They turn the radio on but keep the lights off.

The windows are foggy and so is Neteyam's mind. Nobody can see inside the car and the two young males in there cannot see the outside world either. 

Neteyam has his eyes closed and he's shirtless. Ao'nung's dress shirt is unbuttoned but still on him. He's rocking gently into Neteyam, leaning over him. 

Neteyam is grasping his shoulder with one hand and there's a bottle of lube in the other. He's moaning softly in Ao'nung's ear as he's lying on his back, legs on either side of Ao'nung's hips. 

Neteyam's belly-button piercing twinkles in the low light. 

Ao'nung falls in love a little more and loses himself into those half lidded pale brown eyes. 

---

This is the first time Neteyam is coming to visit Ao'nung in his own house. He's never really been here before because he hates being a guest. He hates not knowing the exact layout of the house he's in and he hates asking to use the bathroom. Being a guest suffocates him.

Neteyam has met Ao'nung's parents before, but coming here as their eldest son's boyfriend is different.  Tonowari has already seen him at his worst. There's not much lower he can go. Neteyam is scared of Ronal. He doesn't tell Ao'nung that he knows about the chief thing because his own parents are clan leaders too. Well, his father is and his mother's mother. 

Ao'nung comes to pick him up; Neteyam is wearing one of his best shirts. It's dark blue and he's wearing cream coloured dress pants, freshly ironed by Neytiri. 

Neteyam had to wait a few agonising minutes for his pants on the sofa, in his underwear because Neytiri was taking her sweet time making sure there won't be a single wrinkle on his son's clothes.

 Ao'nung greets him and they kiss in the car, short and sweet. Ao'nung hands Neteyam some extremely minty bubble gum because Neteyam once offered him a piece from that same brand. Ao'nung cannot stand how strong that gum is so he doesn't take any but Neteyam seems grateful. 

Ao'nung is trying to keep calm but it's so hard when Neteyam smells so good. He's wearing those thin-rimmed round glasses to seem more proper and his hair is freshly braided (so is Ao'nung's). 

They sit around in the car for a moment. Ao'nung knows his mother is definitely peeking from behind the curtains but he doesn't tell Neteyam because he does not want to stress him out. Neteyam is trying to take deep breaths but they're all wrong and he's borderline causing himself into a stronger panic.

Ao'nung has been swimming since before he could walk; he placed a hand flat on Neteyam's stomach and smiles at the startled look he recieves.

"Breathe from here," Ao'nung grins. "Breathe in for a count of five. Good. Now hold for three. Out. Hold."

Neteyam repeats it a few times and his head clears a little. He's feeling extremely vulnerable and Ao'nung is starting to worry. 

"Sorry," Neteyam whispers and stares down at his lap as Ao'nung pulls his hand back. Neteyam doesn't say anything more but Ao'nung can tell he's trying to. The surfer doesn't press.

He worries because he knows Neteyam is suffering in silence. The more time he spends with the smaller male, the more often he catches him staring off into space with a heart-broken look in his eyes. Ao'nung can only hope that one day Neteyam lets him in.

Neteyam nods to him and gets out of the car. The instant his feet his the ground, it's like a light is switched. He looks calm and collected.

Ao'nung knows it's a mask because Neteyam's little finger is curled up.

 

---

They sit at the dining table. Ronal is struggling to feed her toddler, because she's more interested in throwing her peas around. 

Tsireya is trying her best to soothe the baby and help her mother but it's failing. Neteyam is watching them, worry twinkling in his eyes. 

He stands without thinking and walks to the child. He kneels beside her highchair and caresses her soft cheek with a single finger as she fusses about. 

Ronal is watching Neteyam in surprise but she hides it well, unlike Ao'nung and Tsireya, who are openly gaping. 

The little child blinks in surpirse and gurgles happily at Neteyam, mesmerised by the beads in his hair. He caresses her curly little hair with such gentleness and love that Ao'nung has to cover his face because the mental image of Neteyam with a baby is too much for him to handle. Tonowari pats his shoulder and turns to Tsireya, asking about school.

Neteyam boops the baby's flat little nose (she looks a lot like Tsireya) and picks up the tiny pink spoon Ronal was using to feed her. Neteyam doesn't remember her name but he plans to ask Ao'nung once they're alone. 

His presence is calming and Ronal can only stare in wander as Neteyam feeds the child. She glances towards Ao'nung and nods once.

Ao'nung sags in relief.

After the meal, Ao'nung takes Neteyam to his room. Neteyam smiles so wide because Ao'nung's room is nothing like how he imagined. 

He lets Ao'nung crowd him against the wall, door long since locked, and leans his head back, exposing his throat. Ao'nung presses gentle kisses on the other's darker skin. Neteyam giggles, because it tickles.

He cannot help pulling back and Ao'nung nearly cries at how sweet he is. He collects himself and reaches up to caress Neteyam's cheek. 

Neteyam leads them to the bed and pushes Ao'nung to sit down. He kneels in front of him and smirks coyly. Ao'nung swallows thickly because he knows that look.

Ao'nung has to admit Neteyam is also good at this, amongst the many other things he's good at. 

Ao'nung's eyes roll back as Neteyam easily takes him into his mouth. He cannot help but tangle his fingers in Neteyam's braids, tugging gently.

Neteyam closes his eyes, jaw aching.

Notes:

Do we like the texts??? Are they annoying??

Another side note
I might finish this work before going back to the other ones I'm writing because the writing style is too different for me to keep switching between them 🙃

Chapter 10: Bubble Tea

---

Neteyam does archery.

He can fly his mother's enormous army jet and he's the fastest climber on their university's rock climbing team.

To top it all off, he's completing a biology and an international relations major. He has a job in a silly little marble bank and he's minoring in Korean. 

Ao'nung wants to gag because he's been skipping his swimming practices in favour of hanging out with Neteyam, but Neteyam doesn't know this. He manages his time so well that he doesn't miss school or work to see Ao'nung. 

Neteyam shows up to class with nothing.

Well, Ao'nung thinks it's nothing. He has a fat cup of boba with him and sheets of pills. Not a book or pen in sight. Neteyam looks wrecked. 

He has bags under his eyes and his nose is red. He sniffles when he sits down and he's absolutely unresponsive throughout the entirety of their organic bullshits class. The professor tries to call on him because Neteyam always has good answers but Neteyam doesn't even seek to hear him. 

Ao'nung frowns as he watches his perfect boyfriend crumble. Even their balding professor is unnerved; he's clearing his throat awkwardly and chooses to call on a guy Ao'nung has never met. He doesn't plan to, either. His focus is in Neteyam. 

"What's wrong?" Ao'nung murmurs to him and glares at the girl peeking at them from next to Neteyam. 

She scoots over a seat and flushes.

Neteyam sighs and takes a sip of his weird, chocolatey looking bubble tea. Ao'nung watches the way his throat bobs and sighs softly. He's worried because he has yet to see Neteyam like this. (Okay, he did see Neteyam like this when they got hammered and slept together for the first time.) 

Neteyam rubs his hands together nervously before he looks down, shaking his head. "Don't worry, Nung."

Ao'nung worries anyway. "Did something happen?"

Neteyam wants to tell him what hurts him but he cannot find the words. Instead of feeling annoyance bubble inside his chest, he feels shy warmth. He knows he's a hard shell to crack. If Ao'nung keeps asking, he might yield.

"Yes." Neteyam's reply is short and simple but Ao'nung still feels a sense of victory because at least Neteyam is admitting that something is wrong. 

"Will you tell me?" Ao'nung presses on, watching Neteyam's walls crumble. 

Neteyam's expression softens and he looks like a weight is taken off his shoulder. "Okay."

They wait until the lecture ends and are the last to stay in the lecture hall. The professor comes up to them and eyes Neteyam in undisguised worry. Ao'nung resists rolling his eyes because he anxious to discuss Neteyam's mood but their professor is in the way of that. 

"Mr. Suli Tsyeyk'itan," the professor greets him pleasantly. He hands Neteyam some papers. "These are my personal notes for today lessons. I believe they might be useful to you."

Neteyam blinks in surpirse. "Oh. Thank you, professor Choi."

Ao'nung bites his lip because he feels a strong urge to coo. Neteyam is grasping the papers like the biggest treasure and he is looking at their professor like the balding man hung the stars (not quite with the same intensity as Ao'nung is staring at him though).

Their professor leaves with a short nod. He closes the door and grants them privacy. There is no lesson there at the time.

"So, what happened, Tey?" Ao'nung whispers, placing a hand on Neteyam's shoulder. 

Neteyam flushes at the nickname and places his own hand over Ao'nung's. His wrist is bruised. Like someone had grabbed it too hard.  

Neteyam inhales shakily. "I got in a fight with my dad. It's nothing serious though."

Ao'nung bites his tongue to stop himself from cursing. He's seen the way Jake Sully handles Lo'ak when his youngest son pisses him off and he knows it's the same for Neteyam. Jake Sully isn't abusive, but he is impossibly impulsive at times and he doesn't know his own strength. The bruise on Neteyam's wrist proves it. 

"Did you do something or did someone just piss in his cereal?" 

Neteyam is so startled that he laughs. He pulls away and rubs his wrist. He is unaware he does so. "It really is no big deal–" 

"Please, Tey." Ao'nung is pleading. He leans closer.

Neteyam lowers his gaze and purses his lips. He looks ashamed. "He doesn't think I do enough."

"What?" Ao'nung blinks and he knows he looks dumb because when Neteyam looks at him, there is a ghost of a smile on his lips. "You do more than anyone else I know!" 

"Still, he thinks I could work more." 

"Next to two university courses?" Ao'nung rubs his face. "What more could you possibly do?"

Neteyam grimaces and his walls are back up in an instant. He seems to be repeating his father's words back to Ao'nung. "I don't have too many classes that I actually have to be there for. I can just ask for the notes and work instead. It's really simple, Nung."

"Simple?" Ao'nung is furious, but not because of Neteyam.

He knows the boy's entire sense of identity and self worth are based on his grades and the amount of hours he works.

"How is this simple, Tey?" Ao'nung asks quietly, biting back his anger. 

"I can always try harder—" 

"How many hours of sleep do you get a night?"

Neteyam flushes and he looks ready to burst into tears again because Ao'nung's entire stance is too similar to his father's. He whispers, defeated. "Around four." 

"When do you get up?" Ao'nung is still pressing closer. He knows he has to do this even if it hurts him. 

"Five." Neteyam looks ashamed. 

Ao'nung doesn't have to ask to know why. He does anyway. "And what do you do? Why do you need to be up so early? Most of our classes start at ten." 

Neteyam's shoulders slump forward and he curls up on himself. "I study."

Ao'nung can't take it anymore. He feels cruel and pathetic. He gathers Neteyam in his arms and rubs his back because Neteyam is breaking. He's falling apart and it's breaking Ao'nung's heart. 

Neteyam does not remember the last time he slept before midnight, nor the last time he woke up and simply lazed around in bed. He doesn't count the very few hangovers he's had because that is different. 

"When would you start work if you skip the lectures?" Ao'nung dares to ask.

"Eight," Neteyam replies quietly. 

So, Ao'nung concludes, Jake Sully expects Neteyam to leave the house at seven to reach the city in time, which means Neteyam would not have time to study if he wakes up at five because he needs an hour to get ready. Ao'nung knows Neteyam would work until around four or five, depending on the day. So he'd arrive home at six if he doesn't spend time doing anything else.

Instead of studying, Neteyam would be copying notes until at least ten in the evening. Neteyam writes painfully slowly because he takes time to actually understand what he's writing. 

Ao'nung doesn't need to he genius to know that Neteyam would crumble before the first week is over. He's already falling apart and he's only been thinking about it. 

Neteyam is not crying but his eyes are wet and his lower lip is quivering. He's rubbing his wrist again and Ao'nung realises that this argument took place not long before he came to class. It's the only reason he knows about it. If it happened the night before, Neteyam would have already calmed down enough to pretend that nothing is wrong.

Ao'nung kisses the top of his head, nuzzling into his hair. "It's going to be okay, Tey."

Neteyam isn't so sure. He always does what his father wants from him.

 

---

Ao'nung isn't even surprised when Neteyam doesn't show up to a single lecture the next week. He's been expecting it. 

The entire week passes and he doesn't see Neteyam even once. They text, but Neteyam is working or copying notes for at least ten subjects so their conversations are short.

Ao'nung is itching for it to be the weekend already. It's Friday and his patience is wearing thin. He hates that his weekend has already started but Neteyam still has to tutor that old hag in the morning. They can't meet. 

There is a knock on his dormroom door. Ao'nung blinks in surprise. Rotxo is on a date with Kiri and Tsireya knocks much softer. He isn't expecting anyone, especially not at nearly four in the afternoon. 

He doesn't call out for the person to enter. He walks to the door himself instead and opens it. His mind blanks in surprise because Neteyam is standing there and he's holding a box of Ao'nung's favourite milk chocolate with almonds.  

Neteyam looks a little nervous, like he is unsure if he's even supposed to be here in Ao'nung's doorway. Ao'nung tugs him inside and shuts the door.

"I like this surprise," Ao'nung smirks. Neteyam seems alright. He's got faint bags under his eyes but his lips are upturned.

Neteyam smiles at him and hands him the bonbons. "How have you been?"

"Bored out of my mind during class." Ao'nung takes the box of chocolates and immediately opens it, wasting no time to stuff his face because if he doesn't he will combust on the spot from the sweet way Neteyam is looking at him. "It sucks without my Prince there."

Neteyam tries to fight his blush but it only gets worse. His cheeks dust with colour and he steps back. Ao'nung captures him in an embrace. "Nungie—" 

Neteyam tries to protest but Ao'nung is peppering fat sloppy kisses on his cheek and dragging him to the bed. There is really no other place for them to sit because the room is fairly simple. Ao'nung is in a former three person room, but the third bed was removed a while back due to reasons. There's now a desk in its place. It's scattered with Rotxo's things. 

Neteyam recognises the little surfer guys headphones and his sticker-clad laptop. There's a couple of shells there too with holes poked into them because Rotxo likes to make traditional Metcayina jewellery. 

Neteyam lets Ao'nung attack him with kisses and before long, he finds himself on his back with Ao'nung snoozing on his chest. 

Neteyam lets himself relax, closing his eyes. He can hear Rotxo come in eventually and the young surfer boy sets his laptop up to watch a film on his bed. He has a fluffy, dark blue blanket and he nests himself inside, nothing but the top of his curls peeking into Neteyam's vision.

It's now dark in the room except for the faint light of the screen. Neteyam doesn't sleep. He's used to staying awake and he knows of he does in fact fall asleep, he won't wake up till morning. He cannot allow that to happen. He hasn't had any time to study yet all week despite pulling an all nighter the night before.

Neteyam has an exam on Monday that he cannot afford to perform badly on. He doesn't tell Jake and Jake does not know that he took away the only few days Neteyam could have prepared for the exam.

Neteyam doesn't think this is unfair. He just accepts that this is how it is. He can't do much else anyway or he might burst into tears from the overwhelming stress he's feeling.

It suffocates him.

Neteyam tries out the breathing technique Ao'nung showed him a while ago and it's only when Rotxo is nudging his shoulder, looking worried, that Neteyam realises his shoulders are shaking and the dam broke. He hides his face in Ao'nung's bun and Rotxo nudges his fellow metcayinan awake. 

Ao'nung is grumbling as he lifts his head, but Rotxo's stern face promptly shuts him up. He notices Neteyam's state and  helps him sit up, caressing his head. Neteyam hugs him (he won't ever admit that he's clinging). 

 Ao'nung is the one to call Jake Sully that night because Neteyam is in a full blown panic, eyes unfocused and pupils wide. 

Ao'nung tries his best not to be scared as he let's Jake into his room. A dorm lady was the one to lead him up — Ao'nung still doesn't know what they're called. Ao'nung pales when he realises that Neytiri is there too and Lo'ak has come along as well. 

Neteyam is curled up tightly under his Ao'nung's sheets, wrapped in one of his sweaters. He shakes his head furiously when Jake tries to get him to come out and insists that he doesn't want to.

"I don't want to," he repeats it like it's his mantra and Ao'nung can only guess that Neteyam is referring to all the things he wishes he didn't have to do.

Jake Sully looks unsure what to do but Lo'ak is climbing into bed next to Neteyam almost instantly and Ao'nung does a double take when he notices the enormous plush tulkun he's brought along. Neteyam immediately cuddles up to his little brother and seems to relax.

Ao'nung frowns. He didn't think to cuddle up to him like this and he's also not quite sure that Neteyam would react the same to his presence. 

Neytiri and Jake are talking quietly in the hallway; the door is open and the dor lady is standing there, waiting and looking nervous. She's new. Ao'nung scowls.

He walks over to Rotxo and silently rests his forehead on his childhood friend's shoulder. Rotxo pats the top of his head (he has to reach up but he knows Ao'nung likes the feeling so he doesn't mind). 

Neytiri suddenly takes the car keys from Jake Sully, who reels back like he's held at gunpoint. She leaves, heels clinking and long brown skirt floating behind her. Ao'nung has never seen a woman as elegant (except his own mother of course).

Ao'nung doesn't detach himself from Rotxo. 

Neteyam hides his face in the crook of Lo'ak's neck and his breathing evens out because Lo'ak is rubbing soothing circles on his back, under his shirt. Rotxo is holding Ao'nung gently because he knows Ao'nung is sensitive deep down.

Jake Sully is pacing and it takes about twenty minutes for his wife to return. She brings cardamom peach tea and white chocolate with strawberry bits. She comes into the room like she owns it and she pulls a pair of wireless headphones from her bag. Lo'ak helps her but them on Neteyam's head. They sit him up and give him the tea. His fingers are trembling as he takes it. Neytiri puts on a soft song from her own playlist and Neteyam slowly relaxed. 

He's numb.

Neytiri sits on Ao'nung's bed beside her boys and Ao'nung flushes in shame because he can't remember when he changed the sheets. He clings to Rotxo. 

Neytiri unwraps a small piece of chocolate and nudges her son's lips with the sweetness. Neteyam lets her feed him, he seems to like it too, so Ao'nung makes a mental note to try feeding him sometime.

Jake Sully walks up to Ao'nung carefully. His steps are silent. He glances to the door and Ao'nung knows he wants to talk.

Ao'nung follows him out and shuts the door.

"What happened?" Jake frowns. He isn't accusing, only searching and his tone is soft. He seems a little awkward even.

Ao'nung feels protective of his forest boy so he doesn't lie. "He's overwhelmed by the amount of work he has to do."

Jake's face is carefully guided. "That's what brought this on?"

Ao'nung hesitates, but then he nods. "He has an important test on Monday, sir. It's a pass or fail but if he fails he isn't allowed to take the exam at the end of the term."

Jake Sully does not let his inner feelings show on his face. Ao'nung doesn't bother trying to read him; he's being respectful because he doesn't bring up the real reason Neteyam is losing his mind just on the other side of the door.

"He's not coming to school next week." 

Ao'nung blinks in surprise. 

"I will call his professor," Jake continues. "What class is this?" 

"Uh," Ao'nung is so caught off guard, he forgets everything for a second. "Business Behaviours I think. I'm not sure. He calls it BB."

Jake nods. He eyes Ao'nung for a moment. "Do you think he'd like living in the dorms?"

Ao'nung almost laughs because Jake Sully is really not that scary if he thinks about it. Ao'nung is sure he's absolutely terrifying on the battle field but this is no warzone. It was about twenty years ago, but now it's just a dormitory. 

"Probably." Ao'nung doesn't know. It depends on who Neteyam would get as a roommate. 

Jake Sully has obviously decided on something, but he doesn't tell Ao'nung. He pats the younger male on the shoulder before stepping back into the room.

That night, Neytiri calls the old lady that Neteyam tutors and explains that he's sick, so he's taking the weekend off. Neteyam is already asleep, hugging his brother and his half finished cardamom peach tea. 

Jake Sully carries him to the car. Lo'ak tells Ao'nung to stay the night at their place. 

It's almost midnight when they make it home with Ao'nung holding a snoozing Neteyam in the back seat. Lo'ak grumbles about forgetting Payakan at the dorms. Ao'nung rolls his eyes. 

Finally, they get Neteyam to bed. Lo'ak is instantly glued to his brother's side again. Ao'nung stands around for a moment by the bed before it's Lo'ak who is rolling his eyes. He tugs Ao'nung into bed beside Neteyam and glares at him.

Ao'nung smirks as the three of them are squished together. 

Notes:

I have way too many English lectures for a uni in the middle of Europe lmfao

Chapter 11: Polar Bears

Summary:

Who is writing this instead of studying???
I'll give you a hint, it's not Neteyam

Notes:

Fun fact; I actually have family members in the US navy
We're 200% European 🇪🇺 😎

Neytiri is absolutely jittery with nerves. Ao'nung is trying not to laugh because it reminds him of the time he first moved into the dorms. Ronal had been a wheeping mess because her eldest son was moving out for the first time. 

Ao'nung's first roommate was a basketball guy who slept all afternoon and then fucked off somewhere every night to get high or party. He failed out of university within the first fall semester.

He was in a three person room at the time. The other guy was a complete jackass too. He'd leave his food in their containers until they were absolutely unrecognisable. His shoes were always in the middle of the room and the bathroom – dear god – Ao'nung has to gag ever time he remembers what the toilet looked like.

Then, the next two guys he roomed with were twins, and they were okay for the most part. They had smelly feet but they showered every night so Ao'nung solved that problem by opening the window during the day. It was spring anyway. They did, however, push their beds together and they always cuddled when they slept. 

Ao'nung often spent his nights in Neteyam's room because the twins were huge and he was sure they'd gang up on him if he tried to pick a fight. 

Neteyam always laughed at him when he complained about his roommates. 

Ao'nung was overjoyed when he found out that summer that Rotxo got accepted to university, too. He immediately arranged (asked Tonowari to call the dorm) for him and Rotxo to share a two bedder dorm room. 

 

Ao'nung gets a call from Neteyam in the middle of the week. Neteyam is skipping his classes because Jake said so (and he's honestly glad he gets to stay home because the house is empty). 

Neteyam sounds absolutely delighted. He informs Ao'nung that Jake Sully, war hero, Toruk Makto (it's the name of his army jet), has called the dorms and demanded that his sons are given a two-person room. 

Lo'ak isn't all too happy because Tsireya still refuses to live in the dorms and the Sully's house is closer to Ao'nung's own home than the dorms. Neteyam, however, is curious. He asks Ao'nung for help because he doesn't know what he's supposed to bring. 

Ao'nung tells him to bring a lot of lube and condoms, to which Neteyam promptly hangs up. 

Then, he's calling again because he genuinely does need the help. Ao'nung, in his fit of laughter, tells him to bring flip flops because the showers are a bit nasty at first and it's easy to catch something. Ao'nung is speaking from experience. 

So, Neteyam is standing in the hallway with his parents and little brother. Tuktirey is there too, but she's hiding behind Neytiri because the dormitory is full of students and they scare her. 

Ao'nung waits for them to finish talking to the dormitory headmaster (Ao'nung still does not know what their official title is and he does not care either). Until then, he just watches Neteyam. His braids are tied in a low pony tail. From the back, Lo'ak and Neteyam look like twins. 

"And if you need any help, you can just give me a call, Mr Sully." The headmaster, an uptight woman in shiny heals and a pencil skirt, is trying her hardest to please Jake Sully. "I'll be sure to help."

"Thank you," Jake Sully says all diplomatically and Ao'nung snorts so loud that the entire Sully Family turns to look at him. Neteyam is smirking at him coyly. "We appreciate it. Really. I'm sorry again for causing so much trouble."

Neytiri flashes her pearly whites pleasantly. "Thank you for finding a solution on such short notice." 

They look so friendly, but there is an air of danger and authority around them. The headmistress notices and does her best to please the living legends in front of her. "Oh, really. It is no problem. Neteyam already visits the dorms so often, it's no wonder he's taken interest in moving in."

Jake Sully glances towards Ao'nung, whose silly grin falls instantly. He slips into his own room silently and if he had a tail, it would be between his legs.

Rotxo is doing homework for once (he usually copies off Kiri) when Ao'nung all but trips into the room with a red face. 

"Dude, you look like you've seen a ghost," the small male laughs. He scribbles something down, then changes his mind and crosses it out.

Ao'nung shakes his head hurriedly. "Nah, dude. Jake Sully looked at me."

"Oh no," Rotxo says without a hint of emotion. "Whatever will you do now." 

Ao'nung rolls his eyes so hard he almost gives himself a headache.

 

Neteyam is too busy helping Lo'ak unpack his things to notice the knock on their door. Neytiri and Jake have already left because Tuktirey burst out crying from all the new experiences. 

Lo'ak saunters over and opens the door. He sighs and raises both middle fingers. "Bro, your simp is here."

Neteyam laughs because he wasn't expecting that. He pats Lo'ak's head and leads Ao'nung inside. The room is mirrored compared to Ao'nung's. When Ao'nung's bathroom is on the left, here, it is on the right. The walls are a pale blue and the furniture is a soft, corn brown. 

Lo'ak has dark grey bedsheets and Payakan is in the middle of his bed. Ao'nung doesn't want to admit it, but it's kind of cute that Lo'ak cares so much about small, cute things. There is a shelf above Lo'ak's bed. His books are placed on it neatly and there is a cactus with googly eyes glued to it next to them. He's glued some star-shaped fairy lights to the bottom of the shelf as well. 

Lo'ak decides to ignore them. He's putting pictures up on the wall like they are more important than his two fat suitcases full of clothes and plates and whatever the hell else it is that Lo'ak thinks he needs. 

The youngest Sully boy puts the ugliest family portrait right in the middle of all the little images. 

Ao'nung frowns, scrunching his nose. Even Neteyam looks awful on that picture. He's mid-blink and talking. Tuktirey is sticking her tongue out at the camera and Jake is fully turned away, looking at Lo'ak, who is in the middle of sneezing. Neytiri has her military potrait smile on her face and she's standing proud. Ao'nung wonders who took the photo. Lo'ak puts up a selfie with Tsireya next to it.

Ao'nung feels his heart soften a little. Maybe the baby Sully isn't so bad. 

Neteyam hasn't even had time to put his bedsheets up yet. His singular deep blue suitcase is zipped up and untouched. He's putting away Lo'ak's clothes after a quick kiss to Ao'nung's lips.

Ao'nung, as much as he pretends to hate Lo'ak, helps Neteyam help his brother unpack. Lo'ak pats his back in a silent gesture of gratitude. 

 

---

 

The next week, Neteyam takes the exam that has been haunting him and his professor e-mails him the next day because Neteyam gave the best answers out of everyone. He scores a solid 98%. 

Ao'nung is absolutely flabbergasted. He mostly scores around 80% and he's alright with that. 

Lo'ak is pretending to hate Neteyam's guts because the baby Sully hardly ever gets anything better than 65%. It's a pass though. Ao'nung makes a mental note to ask what Lo'ak is majoring in. He nearly chokes on his orange juice when he hears the answer.

"Aerospace engineering," Lo'ak replies proudly. "I want to focus on missiles or maybe satellites but I have time to choose that."

Military brat, Ao'nung thinks. Of course Lo'ak is interested in missiles. Ao'nung eyes the photograph of Lo'ak with a gun half his size. He looks around fourteen on it and Jake is by his side in his perfectly ironed uniform. Ao'nung's eyes trail to the next photo. Both of the brothers are on it. They're children, sitting in a glorious aircraft. Neytiri is leaning into the frame, grinning so wide Ao'nung can almost see all of her teeth. Lo'ak is grinning too, and he's missing a front tooth. Neteyam is sitting next to him with a silly smile on his face, eyebrows raised and forehead wrinkled. He still does that, Ao'nung thinks.

Neteyam pats his brother's head proudly and goes back to copying Ao'nung's notes for the organic whatever class. Ao'nung takes one look at Lo'ak's handwriting and cringes. It is possibly worse than Neteyam's. His words look like one big scribble; Ao'nung can at least figure out where Neteyam starts a new sentence. 

"Next year, I might start a military science degree, too." 

Ao'nung actually does choke this time. If Lo'ak starts a second degree, then Ao'nung won't stop until he does a doctorate on something. Baby Sully definitely won't beat him. 

Neteyam is looking at his little brother with such love than Ao'nung cannot help covering his mouth. His heart hurts a little because they're never going to have a biological child of their own despite the fact that Ao'nung is certain Neteyam would be a perfect parent. Though, hanging out with Lo'ak is a little like baby-sitting. 

"How are you going to manage that?" Ao'nung jabs half heartedly because he is jealous. "You're barely passing your classes."

Lo'ak smiles shyly, averting his eyes. "Dad already has a military science degree. He can help me learn. And I already know a lot." 

Ao'nung always forgets that the Sully boys are actually capable soldiers who completed a standard training. Ao'nung purses his lips. He has to actually learn the ways of the military from his father because he can clearly tell both Neteyam and Lo'ak are interested. Their degrees compliment each other, too. At least, that's what Ao'nung thinks. 

Neteyam's phone buzzes loudly on his desk. He excuses himself and steps outside to take the call. 

Lo'ak smirks at Ao'nung as they're left alone. Ao'nung furrows his brows. "What do you want?"

"Has Neteyam topped you yet?"

Ao'nung is so taken aback that he doesn't notice Lo'ak taking a picture of his surprised face. "What?"

"I'm just asking," Lo'ak is letting out silly little giggles. "You're kind of girly-pop."

Ao'nung is mortified. "Fuck off— No, he hasn't."

"You should consider it," Lo'ak replies and he seems much calmer. There is something about him that screams maturity in that moment.

"Why do you care?" Ao'nung hisses out through gritted teeth, a furious blush on his face. He cannot bring himself to be mature about the situation.

Lo'ak picks up Payakan and hugs it, resting his chin on the fantasy creature's head. "Who do you think Neteyam talks to about these things?"

Ao'nung bites the inside of his cheek and scrunches his nose. "I'm assuming it's you."

Neteyam steps back inside the room and something is wrong. Very wrong.

Both Ao'nung and Lo'ak instantly jump to their feet. Neteyam covers his eyes with one hand, still clutching his phone. The screen flashes as a call disconnects.

"What is it, bro?" Lo'ak asks carefully. He does not try to force eye contact. 

Neteyam inhales deeply. He eyes are moist once he looks at his brother. "Mrs Brown passed away last night."

Ao'nung has no idea who Mrs Brown is. Neteyam notices his confusion. "She's the old lady I tutor in German. I mean— tutored, I guess. She was around seventy."

Lo'ak lets Ao'nung comfort him instead and sits back down on his bed.

"I'm sorry," Ao'nung offers helplessly. He sucks at feelings. "Were you— were you close?"

Neteyam shakes his head. "Not really. But I learnt a lot from her. She showed me different braiding techniques, too." 

Ao'nung nods and swallows thickly. Perhaps he should take an elective class in emotions. Ao'nung wraps Neteyam in a bear hug instead. Lo'ak is oddly quiet, too. He's thumbing absent-mindendly at his braids.
Ao'nung understands. 

 

---

Ao'nung is hanging around in Neteyam's room with his favourite cardamom peach tea loving boy when he notices the unusual absence of the annoying little brother.

"Tey?"

"Hm?" Neteyam is lying on his stomach, reading. Ao'nung's head is cushioned on his backside comfortably. He's lying on his back.

"Where's Lo'ak?" 

Neteyam hesitates for a moment before he shrugs. "He's at work."

Ao'nung tenses. "Lo'ak has a job? Since when?!"

Neteyam outright laughs at him. "Nungie. Lo'ak has been working since high school."

The surfer boy flushes in shame. He's never a worked a day in his life except for volunteering at summer camps to teach surfing or swimming.

"Where does he work?" Ao'nung asks quietly. 

"It's not really something people should know." Ao'nung pinpoint the exact second Neteyam decides to trust him with the information. "He works with dad, but he's only doing administration—" 

"He's in the military?" Ao'nung whisper-yells, lifting his head. 

Neteyam smiles, bunny teeth poking out. "Yes. You can ask him about it. He likes talking about it."

"I'd rather die—" 

 

---

 

The weather starts cooling down as fall passes. Ao'nung loves doing polar bear challenges with Rotxo and Tsireya. 

Even if the early days of December are not too cold, they still go down to the ocean. Neteyam comes along because he is curious to see what a polar bear challenge is. Lo'ak comes because he wants to try it and impress Tsireya. Kiri comes because she wants to see Rotxo in nothing but a pair of underpants.

Tsireya is wearing the cutest bikini Neteyam has ever seen. He smirks at his baby brother, because Lo'ak is crossing his legs uncomfortably. Rotxo doesn't bother to bring swim shorts. He's simply in his boxers and so is Ao'nung.

Lo'ak hesitates because it is actually kind of cold. He did not think this through. Eventually, he sheds his clothes. Neteyam has his phone ready to record them but Ao'nung grabs his wrist and unzips his coat for him. 

Neteyam shakes his head. "Ah, Nungie. I don't think this is a good idea." 

Neteyam doesn't want everyone to see his back. Ao'nung thinks he's hesitation is tied to the cold. "Come on, baby. It's going to be fun. Even Kiri is going to do it. Look, she's already undressing!" 

Neteyam swallows down his nerves and nods. "Okay, just— let me do this at my own pace." 

Lo'ak kicks his boots off and tugs his jeans off unceremoniously. Tsireya is eyeing him like he is the most delicious piece of candy she's ever seen. Neteyam notices the way Rotxo and Ao'nung both share a surprised glance when they notice the vitiligo sneaking across Lo'ak's thigh.

Neteyam hums. It was definitely smaller last summer. Lo'ak has a new white spot on his ankle that even Neteyam has not yet seen. They look like stripes. 

Tsireya isn't even the least bit surprised. She's probably already seen it, likely even caressed the patterns. Maybe she's even peppered kisses onto the white swirls.

Lo'ak is the first to run into the water. He drags a laughing Tsireya with him. Rotxo and Kiri go after them. Kiri screams and jumps around, the cold water attacking her toes. Rotxo is staring at her with stars in his eyes.

Ao'nung waits for Neteyam. 

The oldest Sully child takes his coat off, then he pulls his(Ao'nung's) sweater off. He keeps his simple black T-shirts on as he bends down to untie his boots. He kicks them off and frees his feet from his socks too. Neteyam takes a deep breath, feeling the cold air lapping at his skin. He tugs his pants off. 

Ao'nung bites his lip. Neteyam is wearing a thin, silver ankle bracelet. There is a little bruise on one of his knees. He was probably working out or maybe he got it rock climbing. 

Neteyam keeps his shirt on. Ao'nung doesn't understand. 

"Hey—" he grasps Neteyam's arm gently. "You forgot your shirt."

"I didn't, " Neteyam replies quietly. He's not looking Ao'nung in the eyes. 

"You'll only get it wet, Tey. It won't keep you any warmer—" 

Neteyam yanks his arm back and Ao'nung is absolutely flabbergasted by the bitter look on his face.

"Stop."

Ao'nung stops. 

He follows Neteyam into the water, trailing behind nervously. He does not understand what happened and he does not dare ask either.

Rotxo is holding up Kiri, she has her legs wrapped around his waist. They're wobbling about, laughing loudly. Tsireya is perched on Lo'ak's shoulders, bun soaking wet and falling apart. Lo'ak's teeth are chattering but he looks like he is having the time of his life.

Ao'nung walks into the water and doesn't even flinch. He does this every winter. Neteyam shudders and wraps his arms around himself as he walks deeper. He makes it knee-deep and contemplates walking back out. He pushes forward instead. 

"You can do it!" Tsireya's voice chimes along with the sound of the crashing waves.

Neteyam does it.

He sinks under the water after taking a deep breath. It feels like a million little needles are stabbing into his skin. His T-shirt floats about aroung his torso, lifting slightly to expose his belly button. When he resurfaces, he is met with loud cheers. Kiri is clapping proudly, a happy smile on her face. Her nose is red and her lips are a little blue but she seems to be having fun. 

"Come on, bro! Let's race." Lo'ak lets Tsireya down gently and scurries over to Neteyam, nudging Ao'nung out of his way. "I bet you ten that I can hold my breath longer!"

"You wish, baby bro!" Neteyam retorts.

Kiri comes over with Tsireya. "There's only one way to find out."

Lo'ak loses. He sulks about it for a good five minutes then he cuts himself of with a series of sneezes. They decide to head home after that.

Notes:

Someone explain to me how I always end up having roommates who are constantly sleeping
Like the previous one took naps in the afternoon, the other one slept until 12-13 and now my newest roomie sleeps half the afternoon too 😭😭😭

Chapter 12: Silver Chains

Summary:

My ass gone fail that Korean exam today 😩
I couldnt salvage that situation so I wrote this instead
Happy two am lmfao

Notes:

Inspector Ao'nung

---

Neteyam finally finishes decorating his dorm room. It only takes him about two weeks to get a result he is satisfied with. 

Ao'nung thinks it suits him.

Neteyam has one big pillow and one small one; he sleeps hugging the small one between his thighs.

Lo'ak is absent; Ao'nung shudders in disgust because he knows that the little military brat and his stupid aerospace engineering degree are out and about on a date with Tsireya. 

Neteyam is lost in his own world. Ao'nung knows the song he's singing along to but he doesn't know what it's about beyond touching the sky. Neteyam is singing along softly to Awake by BTS. His voice breaks a little with the high notes but Ao'nung still thinks it the most beautiful thing he's heard in a long time. Maybe even ever.

Ao'nung is lazing around in Neteyam's bed; he stole Payakan from Lo'ak's side of the room and is currently squeezing the life out of it. It smells a lot like the little gremlin but Ao'nung doesn't care because the Sully brothers smell identical. He noticed them sharing a cologne a couple of days ago.

There is also only one body wash and one shampoo in their shower. (Ao'nung definitely didn't snoop.) Ao'nung rolled his eyes when he recognised that the toiletries were made by a luxury brand and he can already guess that Neytiri buys it for them because it's specifically for their hair type and Jake Sully, a white man, would not even be aware that his sons would need a different shampoo than he does.

Neteyam is busy undoing his braids. Ao'nung knows his fingers are cramped but the smaller male refuses to ask for help. Ao'nung does not feel like losing any of his fingers.

Kiri is (in)conveniently sick. Her body did not take too kindly to their polar bear challenge. Rotxo is simply skipping because Kiri isn't there. He's at home with his grandmother. 

Ao'nung busiest himself by looking at the photos on Neteyam's wall. Lo'ak is on way too many of them. Ao'nung likes the one the most where Neteyam is wearing a military outfit (Ao'nung has no idea if he has a rank or if it's even his own uniform). Ao'nung knows that Neteyam is freshly eighteen on that photo. His hair is unbraided and tied back neatly. It's parted almost in the middle and gelled down smoothly. It almost looks golden.

There is a photo that Ao'nung recognises to be fairly recent. Neteyam is with Tuktirey. The little girl is wearing her ballet attire and she's striking a pose with one leg held in the air (Ao'nung knows it's a split). Ao'nung blinks in surprise when his brain finally realises what the actual heck Neteyam is doing on the photo. Neteyam is in a bridge-pose. He bends back so far that he is almost holding his own ankles. The most surprising part is that he doesn't even seem to be even a little uncomfortable. 

"Tey?" Ao'nung calls out, unable to tear his eyes away from the photo. He tugs the tiny pillow into his lap and bites Payakan's half missing fin.

Neteyam hums in response. He's stopped singing a while ago and his hair is loose safe for four more little braids at the front where he usually puts his beads. 

"How flexible are you?"

"I did ballet, Nung."

"You what?" 

Ao'nung swears he's getting grey hairs. Every single time he asks either of the Sully boys a question, he has a heart attack from the answer.

"Well, I didn't actually do it for long. Just three years I think." Neteyam shakes the cramps from his fingers. "Why?"

Ao'nung points to the photographer on Neteyam's wall. 

"Oh." Neteyam glances to the side as his cheeks tint with colour. "I thought Tuk was cute on it."

Ao'nung throws Payakan across the room. The plush lands on Lo'ak's bed. Neteyam steps back in surprise. Ao'nung pushes the small pillow from his lap. 

Neteyam blushes; he fiddles around with his hairties a little before making his way to the bed. 

He's feeling a little shy.

 

---

 

Neteyam watches Ao'nung. 

Ao'nung pretends that he cannot see the way Neteyam is looking at him.

They're sitting on the beach, wrapped in a large blanket. Ao'nung really wants to talk. He's buzzing with excitement and he thinks Neteyam is being too calm.

"I want to marry you," he blurts out and slaps a hand over his mouth in obvious mortification. 

Neteyam chokes on his own spit. He blushes all the way down to his chest. "Nung? What did you just say?"

Ao'nung contemplates lying. He can't. "I— I want to marry you," he says quietly. 

Neteyam grins — Ao'nung forgets to breathe for a second. "I want to marry you, too, Nung."

"Holy shit," Ao'nung whispers. 

Neteyam lets out a soft laugh and presses a kiss to Ao'nung's forehead. "But I think we should wait for a while." 

Ao'nung nods slowly and tries to will his heartbeat to slow back down. It won't. He doesn't know why he said that. Ao'nung's nose scrunches up and he sighs. Neteyam thinks he is so cute when he's flustered. 

Neteyam hesitates for a moment before turning to face Ao'nung, careful not to steal the blanket from him. "I— I love you, Nung."

Ao'nung doesn't even bother to hide it. He openly swoons. "I love you, too, Neteyam."

Neteyam smiles so softly and the look in his pale brown eyes is so tender that Ao'nung has trouble keeping eye contact. He does his best and only looks away every few seconds. Neteyam leans closer first, Ao'nung meets him half way in a gentle kiss.

 

---

 

Ao'nung has always been a little more impulsive than he should be. He knows, because Tonowari told him so. Ao'nung spent most of his childhood driving his father up the wall.

He's running around town trying to find what he's looking for while Neteyam is at work because he feels like if he waits any longer he will die.

Ao'nung had consulted with Tsireya the pervious weekend when he visited home.

Much like last time, he burst into his sister's room. His hair hair was down, completely unbraided. 

Tsireya openly rolls her eyes at him. She's sitting on her bed, looking absolutely perfect on the soft pink bedsheets. She's in a video call with Lo'ak. Reluctantly, she bids her goodbyes and hangs up.

"Brother."

"Tell me more about the omaticayan religion."

Tsireya's annoyance melts away. "Oh. Alright. Would you like to know anything in particular?"

Ao'nung doesn't even know there were specific things. He shrugs. "Just about everything. But mostly about that — what the hell was it? Only marry once or something."

Tsireya giggles behind her hand. She sits up a little straighter. She's confident in her knowledge because Lo'ak loves talking about his heritage and she's an eager student. "Okay. Back in the old days, they used to refer to it as mating for life. I don't think there's much more to say about it, brother. It's similar to our own old traditions." 

"Does Neteyam care about this?" He blurts out again and sighs, rubbing his face. He needs to keep himself in check. 

Tsireya hesitates to answer him. She spends a couple of moments thinking and collecting her thoughts. "More than Lo'ak."

Ao'nung frowns. His voice is weak when he next speaks. "What?"

Tsireya seems to understand right away what his brother is upset by. "I know it is a delicate situation, brother. Neteyam may have been hoping to honour his mother's traditions and wait for marriage, but I assure you, he does not regret it. You did nothing wrong. It just happened this way."

Ao'nung nods weakly.

"And you're not just with him for his body," Tsireya continues. She knows his brother needs to hear it, even if she's stating the obvious. "Ao'nung. It is alright. There is nothing in your shared path that you need to regret. All you have to do it look to the future."

Again, Ao'nung nods.

Tsireya places a tiny hand on his upper arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "Neteyam prays. Perhaps you might want to give it a go too, brother."

"Me?" Ao'nung chuckles. "You know I only pray to the Great Mother for the waves to be bigger." 

Tsireya hums and she gets lost in her own thoughts for a moment. Ao'nung patiently waits for her to return from her journey.  "You know. I think they have the same Goddess as ours. They call her Eywa and we call her our Great Mother." 

Ao'nung thinks about it for a second and then hums in agreement. Tsireya is definitely right.

They spent some more time together before Ao'nung gets the sudden itch to cause mayhem.

 

Now, after spending half the day searching for what he needs, Ao'nung is finally right where he wants to be. He's standing in front of Neteyam's room. Ao'nung knocks. 

Neteyam opens the door quickly enough. He's just taken a shower. His curls are wet and his cheeks are flushed — Ao'nung smirks. He knows that Neteyam likes to take impossibly hot showers. He comes out looking like a lobster every time. 

Neteyam's hair is wrapped in an old T-shirt. He looks so sweet that Ao'nung cannot resist pressing a million kisses to his lips and cheeks and his entire face. He saves pecking Neteyam's nose for the last because he loves the way Neteyam scrunches it up.

He does it now, too. 

Neteyam closes the door once they're both in the room and smiles warmly at his boyfriend. Ao'nung wipes his stupidly sweaty hands on the back of his pants and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a tiny box and hands it to Neteyam. 

"I love you," he whispers the words to Neteyam for the second time in his entire life.

Neteyam is caught off guard. For a second, he's unsure what to do. He holds the little box gingerly, blushing and looking so adorable that Ao'nung has to take deeps breaths to stay calm. His own face is red and it's more noticeable because his skin is a lighter shade.

"I love you, too, Nungie," Neteyam murmurs as he opens the box. He freezes before snapping his head up to face Ao'nung, wide eyed. "Nung, how did you know—" 

"About the Atokirina?" Ao'nung resists smirking. Now is not the time to be coy. Neteyam is very clearly feeling vulnerable.  "I asked Tsireya. Then Lo'ak. He told me to talk to your mother, so I did." 

Neteyam covers his face to hide his tears. He's so happy that he cannot control the little droplets from falling. "Thank you, Nung."

Ao'nung helps him put the bracelet on. "I want to promise myself to you. I know how important your traditions are to you and I know you cherished the idea of staying untouched until you found the one—"

"I have found the one—" Neteyam cuts him off and he's sniffling now as he inspects the little pendant. 

Ao'nung thinks it looks like a dandelion seed.

"But until marriage —" Ao'nung mumbles, suddenly feeling shy. "I know we're too young to marry and I want to make sure that you know you will always be the one for me."

Neteyam grins, silly and all teeth — bunny teeth. The T-shirt on his head is barely holding on, a few strands of his hair fall out.

Ao'nung has never ever felt so much love for another person before. 

"I want you to have all of me, Neteyam," Ao'nung admits quietly as Neteyam pulls the shirt off his head, throwing it aside carelessly. 

"You already have all of me," Neteyam replies easily, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile. "I do not regret it, Nung. I could never. There are many other traditions I can still follow." 

Neteyam runs a careful fingertip over the Otakirina pendant on his new bracelet and immediately feels closer to his heritage than he has ever before. 

Ao'nung locks the door.

 

Notes:

Do we want bottom Ao'nung
Idk Neteyam is just such a switch to me in this

Chapter 13: Tradition

---

Neteyam is lying around in bed with one of his notebooks when his baby brother burst into the room, red cheeked and giggly.

It startles him. "Lo'ak?"

Lo'ak stops in the middle of the room and squeals, covering his face with both hands. Neteyam sets his notebook aside and sits up — he's wide eyed and worried because he's never seen Lo'ak like this.

"Baby bro?" Neteyam tries again carefully. "What happened?"

Lo'ak takes a deep breath to calm himself and he smoothes his shirt down. "I kissed her."

Neteyam blinks in surprise before a smile blossoms on his face. He wanders over to his little brother and wraps him in a warm embrace. "How was it?"

"So soft—" Lo'ak lets out a dreamy sigh and snuggles closer to his brother, clinging to him. "And warm."

They wobble over to Neteyam's bed and flop down onto it, barely avoiding his notebook. 

"Well, aren't you just a big boy now?" Neteyam asks, laughing fondly because his little brother is practically vibrating with joy against him.

"Bro!" Lo'ak protests, flushing further. He hits Neteyam's chest weakly and hides his face in the crook of his neck.

Neteyam doesn't care that he's cuddling him. He thinks Lo'ak is the sweetest thing to ever walk this earth. The way he's curling and uncurling his toes so fast, like there is a song with wild rhythm in his heart — it is so endearing. 

He knows his baby brother is shy; Neteyam is also aware that Lo'ak really wants to stick to tradition.

Neteyam is aware that to some people (people who have likely never let another omaticayan beside the two of them) this tradition is weird. He's aware that some of the guys on the rock climbing team think that he's a prude and they pity Ao'nung. 

Neteyam knows people know about them. They've been walking around campus holding hands.

Neteyam doesn't think his religion has anything to do with this weird purity thing. Nobody is going to stone him for losing his virginity. The same goes for the women too. They can be modern — they're not stuck in the past. They never were.  They never even refer to virginity as purity and people who aren't virgins are not considered used. 

Neteyam thinks the sentiment is soft; it makes his baby brother giggle and act a little less rash, too. Neteyam can't say the same for himself — he's glad that nobody shames him for this. He's aware what girl dads say.

He's had classmates, girls, who would come to school near to tears because they were shamed by their father, and their mothers (not to mention their peers) after confessing to have done it.

Jake Sully is a firm dad, too and his mother is very religious but they only ever handled him with love. Neteyam doesn't think anyone has ever shamed him (out of his family). 

Neteyam blinks. Why was he thinking about this? Perhaps he was more attached to idea of waiting for the best moment than he initially thought. 

Lo'ak wiggles around in excitement and sits up. "Bro! I want to marry her."

"I'm pretty sure everyone already knows that."

"You don't get it—"

"Yes, I do. I want to marry Ao'nung, too."

Lo'ak isn't even surprised. He just gives a knowing smirk and his eyes trail down to his brother's throat. "And he wants to eat you."

Neteyam flushes and places a hand over the fading bruise on his neck. "Bro, don't be like this."

Lo'ak wiggles his eyebrows and Neteyam promptly shoves him off the bed. Lo'ak gives a startled shout just as Ao'nung bursts into the room. He's stopped knocking a while ago; Lo'ak once nearly beat Ao'nung up because he woke him up.

"Neteyam –" Ao'nung grins, all teeth. He hurries into the room and hands his phone to his boyfriend. (Ao'nung is still in disbelief that Neteyam is his.)

Neteyam takes the phone and smiles faintly. "What is this, Nungie?"

"Tsireya took this picture of us," Ao'nung smirks. 

Lo'ak tries to take a peek, but Ao'nung snatches his phone back before the younger Sully actually succeeds. "Why won't you show me?" 

"Because." 

Lo'ak stares at Ao'nung like he's never seen someone more annoying and stupid in his life. Ao'nung scowls at him in return. Neteyam snorts, because they just look so silly.

He stands and takes Ao'nung's hand in his. "Are you ready to go, Nung?"

Ao'nung nods, not taking his eyes off Lo'ak. He doesn't blink. They're having a staring contest. Neteyam rolls his eyes and claps, startling them both into blinking. They protest weakly but Neteyam merely pats Lo'ak's head before grabbing his coat and slipping into his boots.

Ao'nung is already dressed.

He carries Neteyam's bag for him. 

Ao'nung drives them to the cinema and they watch a silly little film. 

 

---

Neteyam finds himself lying on the backseat of Tonowari’s car with Ao'nung between his legs. 

They're alone of course; Tonowari’s not there. They would not be doing this otherwise. Lo'ak had wanted to go to some party again and it's not in their own dorm.

Neteyam's head is buzzing from a piña colada and his chest is pleasantly warm. Ao'nung is stretching him just right, rocking into him languidly, taking his time. They have a lot of time. It's only around eleven. They arrived about an hour ago. 

They've been out here for a good forty-five minutes, but they haven't been doing this for long.

Neteyam is holding onto Ao'nung's upper arm with one hand, the other is on the surfer's waist, squeezing gently with each thrust. Neteyam is trying to be quiet even if nobody can hear him over the music.

They're playing a game.

Ao'nung doesn't think Neteyam can survive this without whining. Neteyam knows he can.

His toes curl when Ao'nung brushes against that bundle of nerves, but he only gasps, turning his head to the side, legs tightening around Ao'nung's hips. Ao’nung watches him, pupils blown so wide that the pale blue of his eyes if barely visible. He's not drunk, he didn't even drink anything because he doesn't want to spend the night cramped in a car.

Neteyam is only a little tipsy, too.

Ao'nung thinks he's the most beautiful thing in the world. The way his lips part (he knows Neteyam's mouth is dry with the way he's panting, forgetting to swallow).

They're still wearing their tops, Neteyam doesn't take his socks off either. It's cold outside, but Tonowari’s enormous car has heated seats, so they're quite cozy.

Neteyam moans softly when Ao'nung jerks his hips just a little bit harder. His fingers dig into the tanned skin of his surfer boy and he fully submits to Ao'nung. It feels so good sometimes to not be in control.

Ao'nung leans down to kiss his neck, sucking bruises into the chocolatey sweetness. He bites down and Neteyam has to actually cover his mouth to stay quiet. He feels so incredibly turned on, his stomach burns with heat and desire washes over him in waves.

Neteyam doesn't care if people see his hickeys; not right now, anyway. He will, eventually. But for the moment he is lost in the pleasure.

Ao'nung pulls back and kisses him straight on the mouth instead; he presses into Neteyam's body completely, squeezing his hips. He thumbs at the spot where his legs begin and caresses the cheeky swirl of vitiligo on his hip bone. Neteyam closes his eyes tightly. He never imaged he would like this so much. 

Neteyam inhales shakily and spreads his legs a little more. Ao'nung grabs his thighs and helps him hold them up. The space is bordering cramped (and the blanket under them is slowly sliding off the seat). Ao'nung pulls back and Neteyam winces.

Ao'nung stills and eyes him curiously. "Are you okay, sweet berry?"

Neteyam physically cannot flush deeper, but his cheeks burn all the same. He reaches down beside the seat and picks up the lube. He hands it to Ao'nung, mind too hazy to do this himself. He knows he'd just end up smearing it over Tonowari’s seats. 

Ao'nung squeezes a little bit of the slippery liquid onto his fingertips and waits until it warms a little. He doesn't pull out at he smears it on Neteyam's entrance. Ao'nung is watching the way his member stretches Neteyam's body and feels as precum rushes out of him and into the condom. 

Somehow, the sight of the rubber turns him on further; something about being responsible sends tingles up his spine and fills him with safety.

Neteyam relaxes, gazing lovingly up at Ao'nung as the taller male takes his sweet time looking at him. Ao'nung presses a finger down gently against Neteyam's rim, biting his lip when Neteyam clenches down, curling his toes.

They melt into each other in bliss.

---

Neteyam fails one of his tests. 

It takes him a moment to realise this and when he does he feels like he's doused in cold-water. 

It's one of his Korean exams. It doesn't count to his final grade, but he needs to pass these smaller tests to be allowed to take said exam. He still mostly gets above 90s, but this one, no matt how he looks at it, is a fail. He got a measly 52%. 

Neteyam spends the rest of the lesson taking notes with a higher intensity than before. He scurries out of the classroom before his professor could catch him. 

Neteyam is allowed to keep the test paper. He takes it to work with him and as he's working on his tasks, his mind is spinning and he's hyperfocused on correcting the mistakes. 

By the time he returns to the dorms, his mind is absolutely frayed. 

Lo'ak is nowhere to be found, so Neteyam drags himself to the shower and spends an hour on there. In order to feel like he has control over something, he shaves every inch of his body. He looks like a cloud as he covers himself in shaving cream. Not once does he cut himself. Neteyam doesn't have a lot of body hair to begin with, neither does Lo'ak. 

Neteyam comes out of the bathroom feeling better. His brother is still nowhere to be found so he decides to lie down (he steals Payakan) and texts Ao'nung. 

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan: hey Nung, are you busy?

Ao'nung: When it comes to you? Never.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan: I had a hard day today, can you come over?

Ao'nung:  Snacks?

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan : just you is enough ;)

Neteyam hesitates for a moment before he snaps a quick picture of himself cuddling his brother's tulkun. He sends it and resists deleting it. Ao'nung sends back a bunch of hearts. The simple red ones. 

Neteyam does not have to wait long. He's curled up under his covers when Ao'nung knocks and then steps inside.

He smiles sheepishly. "I forgot I don't need to knock."

"It's fine. It's just me." Neteyam chuckles and waits patiently for Ao'nung to kick his shoes off. "Lo'ak won't beat you up for it."

"He can't, anyway," Ao'nung smirks, settling down next to Neteyam. 

"He definitely can."

Ao'nung doesn't argue. He knows Lo'ak is a better fighter (Ao'nung isn't even a fighter at all). He likes to pretend that the baby Sully isn't all that he is. He's definitely not jealous. Not at all.

Maybe a little.

They don't do anything but cuddle and chat. Neteyam slowly reveals things about himself. Ao'nung doesn't react beyond smiling. He doesn't want to make Neteyam feel insecure.

Neteyam tells him that he's had a crush on his since before they kissed and Ao'nung nearly faints — he definitely thought the opposite. Neteyam was always annoyed by him. They had so many fights during high-school. 

"It's because you were always picking on Kiri and Lo'ak," Neteyam replies quietly. His thin fingers are playing around with Ao'nung's necklace. 

"Sorry—"

"Leave it," Neteyam laughs and he genuinely looks like he isn't angry anymore. "Just don't leave my brother beyond the reef again." 

Ao'nung cringes. He did take Lo'ak beyond the reef right during shark mating season. He still doesn't know how Lo'ak survived that but Ao'nung knows if he didn't, he would have killed him and he'd probably be sitting in a cold metal cell.

"Nung," Neteyam's voice is tender. He places a hand on Ao'nung's cheek. "It was years ago. Lo'ak is fine. Nobody hates you for it. You didn't know."

Ao'nung didn't. He only realised it was mating season after he confessed to Neteyam what he did. Neteyam had been so furious with him that day — and the days after. They didn't talk for a month.

Neteyam ghosts a kiss against his lips. 

"Tell me about your religion," Ao'nung asks suddenly. 

Neteyam pauses. "Oh. Okay. My mother is from an omaticayan tribe. She taught me all my beliefs. We pray to Eywa. She is the one who creates us and gives us life. And we return to her once we pass. I believe every person is born twice."

"What about marriage?"

Neteyam flushes and looks away. "Oh."

"Don't you have rituals?" Ao'nung presses on. He knows Neteyam could explain it to him. 

"We do," Neteyam admits after a while. He wonders if he should tell Ao'nung. He does. "The courting rituals are still taken very seriously."

"What are they like?" Ao'nung barely contains his excitement. He's been trying to find this out for weeks.

Neteyam bites his lip. Ao'nung has never seem him blush so much. "I— before— the first thing is asking for the other's hand by gifting something to the parents. Back in the days, it used to be handcrafted weapons or accessories."

"And now?" Ao'nung asks. 

Neteyam shrugs. "I don't know. I prefer the old ways."

Ao'nung rolls his eyes. He's having to pry this information out of Neteyam and it's starting to bug him a little. "Baby, just tell me. I know you're smart."

"Okay," Neteyam seems to relax. He likes the praise. "So, if the parents accept the courtship, then the youngsters can spend more time together. They don't actually sleep together though until the actual wedding ceremony. The act itself is the completion of the marriage–"

"So we're married?" Ao'nung smirks coyly, caressing Neteyam's cheek. 

"I guess."

Notes:

I'll probably extend the chapter count soon but I'm too lazy rn

Chapter 14: Pinecones and Marshmallows

Jake Sully is furious when he finds out about the failed test.

Neteyam goes home for the weekend; Ao'nung comes with him because Neteyam asks him to, and because they will be going camping on Saturday. Tsireya is coming because Lo'ak will be there. Rotxo tags along because Ao'nung is coming too, and Kiri is coming because her favourite military boys and her her surfer boy are coming.

Ao'nung is spending time with Lo'ak (Neteyam tries to hide his surprise but he cannot). Lo'ak is obsessed with a multilayer game and Ao'nung is actually a fan of said game too. 

Neteyam is braiding Tuktirey's short little curls when Jake Sully silently hands him his phone. There is an e-mail open on it and Neteyam is utterly confused, because his father is logging into his account — he feels a bit like his privacy is violated. Most likely because it is. He has nothing to hide, however. He thinks he doesn't. It's been a few days and he's forgotten all about the test. 

His professor had e-mailed in concern. 

Neteyam silently curses himself for always making an effort into getting to know his teachers. He could just be a nameless face and still have good grades. But that is not who he is. 

Tuktirey cannot read yet. She starts school next year. She doesn't even notice the tense atmosphere between her brother and her father. 

Jake glances to the kitchen and Neteyam feels dread filling his core. He doesn't want to be told that he's not doing enough, again. He swallows and stands, following Jake silently. 

Tuktirey is busy watching the TV.

"What is this, son?" Jake asks. He appears to be calm but Neteyam recognises the storm in his light eyes. 

Neteyam feels dizzy. He puts on his best act. "Sorry, sir. I misunderstood—"

"You didn't learn," Jake cuts him off. "What did you misunderstand? That you need to study?"

"I—" Neteyam tries to calm his rapidly rising anxiety. He wants to own up to his mistakes, so he begins explaining. "I accidentally skipper a row on the translations when memorising the words. I revised them since—"

Neteyam doesn't get to finish talking. Jake Sully looks at him like he killed someone. Neteyam is certain the only thing he's killing is his self confidence. 

"You cannot afford mistakes like this, Neteyam. I'm disappointed." 

Neteyam swallows down the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again. I've been paying more att—"

Neteyam is so caught off guard that the pain doesn't even register in his mind at first. He doesn't understand what prompted this. He blinks quickly and cringes, placing a hand on his cheek gingerly. 

"Dad, I–"

"Quit it with the excuses." Jake grabs his upper arm. Neteyam bites back the pained noise threatening to break free from his throat. "You should have been paying attention from the start. "

Neteyam wants to tell him that he was memorising those words at three in the morning, delirious out of his mind. He knows his father will just view it as another excuse and quite frankly, Neteyam doesn't really want another slap. He's fine with just one. 

"Yes, sir." 

"You're dancing on thin ice, boy." Jake yanks him closer. "We let you study this nonsense and you still don't perform as you could if, you just tried a little harder."

"Dad, you wouldn't call it nonsense if it was any other language," Neteyam dares to talk back. 

Jake inhales sharply; even at home, he cannot always set his military persona aside. There is a tense silence around them for a few moments before Jake lets him go; Neteyam doesn't stumble, he stands with his back straight, but he hangs his head in respect. 

This is his fault for not admitting this mistake to his father himself — he almost forgets that his father is logged into his e-mail address. He forgets how old he is; how he bought his phone with his own money, he never asks for money and he cooks for his entire family when he is home. 

For a moment, Neteyam wants to fight back— he decides against it last minute. "Sorry—"

"Quiet." 

Neteyam closes his mouth and his teeth clink together audibly. 

Jake Sully shakes his head and the disappointment he is feeling is undisguised. He's so used to his son being perfect that he doesn't know what to do when he is anything but.

 

---

 

For the camping trip, they go far. The drive is fifteen hours and they're going south, where it is warmer.

Neteyam is in a car with Ao'nung, Tsireya and Lo'ak.  Tonowari allowed Ao'nung to take the car. He isn't the least bit worried. He trusts his children.  

Kiri and Rotxo are in a small, white car. It probably belongs to Grace.

Lo'ak is knocked out cold in the back seat, head lolled back and mouth hanging open. Tsireya has head headphones on and she's looking around with wide curiosity-filled eyes. The scenery around them is wonderful. There are tall pine trees everywhere, the sunshine is peeking through them.

Neteyam and Ao'nung both got tents for the occasion. There will be two. Enough to fit them all. 

Neteyam is looking around, feeling a longing for the forest. It's nothing like his mother's homeland, but it's a forest either way. Ao'nung is long since focused only on driving. There's still an hour or so left of the journey, so Neteyam lets himself close his eyes to get some rest. They left home early, but not early enough. Jake had time to catch him alone. 

Neteyam ended up brining his books.

The thought of studying during their camping trip makes him want to cry, but he will do it if it makes his father happy. 

Ao'nung pretends to not notice the inner battle Neteyam is fighting. He can see it on his face, the way he clenches and unclenches his jaw that he's not ready to be interrogated. Even simple questions would send him deeper into his shell.

Neteyam does drift off and Ao'nung is the one to wake him. The weather here really is warmer; Neteyam does not need to wear a coat, nor a sweater. He thinks he's better off in long pants, but Lo'ak has other ideas. He's in hiking shorts and he stole one of Neteyam's jumpers. 

Rotxo and Ao'nung begin setting up the tents in a cozy little clearing. It's around five or six in the afternoon. It's still light out, surprisingly. Neteyam isn't scared of the dark, but he knows that Tsireya is, because Lo'ak told him.

His little brother is collecting branches for a fire nearby while Kiri is already preparing said fire by lighting newspapers with used car oil. It takes them some time to start the fire because the branches are moist with rain from the previous days as they are buried under fallen leaves. 

They haven't left the country, but it feels like it. 

Neteyam decides it's okay if he just hangs around; for once, he doesn't help set things up. Not until the tents are standing. Then, he helps Ao'nung bring over the sleeping bags from the cars.

Ao'nung picks up Neteyam's bag and frowns. "What even is in this, Tey?" 

Neteyam flushes and rolls his eyes. "Too heavy for you?"

"Of course not, but it might be for you," Ao'nung replies swiftly with a handsome smirk. "It feels like I'm carrying books or something — wait, you didn't actually bring any books with you, right?"

Neteyam averts his gaze and swiftly walks back to the tents, carrying some pillows.

"Hey, bro! Look at this—" Lo'ak is running towards him full speed and he seems to be cradling something in his hands.

Neteyam stands. "What is it, baby bro?"

"Look at this ugly ass bug!" Lo'ak says loudly, excited and all smiles. He holds his hands up. Neteyam leans closer to look, but Lo'ak snatches his hand back and promptly throws a bunch of leaves in his brother's face.

"Lo'ak!" 

"I can't believe you fell for that, bro!" Lo'ak bends forward, sleeping his knee as he's trying to stop wheezing. 

Neteyam blinks the dust from his eyes and slaps Lo'ak with one of the pillows. His brother stumbles back and trips over a log, falling down in a larger pile of leaves and pinecones. 

"At least he didn't literally fall, idiot!" Kiri calls out. She's already roasting marshmallows with Tsireya. The shorter girl giggles behind her hand. 

Lo'ak snorts. "You wish. He's literally fallen so deep for Ao'nung that Adele is rolling in it." 

Kiri groans, as if in pain. Neteyam cannot help the surprised little laugh he lets out. Lo'ak gets to his feet, dusting himself off, pouting as he does so. He seems proud of himself for that one. 

"He's like," Lo'ak begins again, bending forward like an old man, a hand rubbing his lower back. "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!"

"He doesn't even want to get up," Kiri chuckles,  inspecting her marshmallow. She doesn't seem happy with it and promptly pushes it back above the fire.

Ao'nung walks past Lo'ak and knocks him over with his shoulder. "You're no better. You've fallen so far down for my sister, it's literally impossible to go lower."

Lo'ak grabs Ao'nung's ankle and yanks on it, but Ao'nung only stumbles. He attempts to step on Lo'ak's fingers, to which the youngest Sully boy lets out an offended yelp.

"Oh really?" He's quick to retort. "Like you're any better! My brother could tell you to jump off a bridge and you'd do it."

"He doesn't have to tell me. I'll jump off that bridge just from having to spend time with you." 

Neteyam is lying on the ground, laughing. Rotxo is right next to him in a no better state. Tsireya is a little offended by her brother's words, but she still laughs along, rolling her eyes. Kiri scowls, pretending to be annoyed at them.

Lo'ak blinks in surpirse. "Well— you're —" 

"Give it up, baby bro," Neteyam snorts, stretching out on the soft moss. "You can't recover from that."

"We should decide how we want to sleep," Tsireya suggests, carefully nibbling on her marshmallow, flinching away when she feels just how hot it still is.

"We all know we can't let Neteyam be alone with fish lips," Lo'ak replies swiftly. It earns him a glare. "None of us would get any sleep."

"At least I get some," Neteyam mumbles into the sunset. 

Lo'ak has not looked so offended in a while. "I could too, if I wanted to!" 

Tsireya shakes her head, smirking. She values her own traditions just as much. Lo'ak visibly deflates.

Rotxo pats his back in sympathy. "It's okay, mate. Just give it another five years." 

Lo'ak glares at him and Rotxo raises his arms in mock surrender.

"Guys," Kiri warns. "Be serious."

"Oh, I'm so serious!" Lo'ak grins, eyeing his brother's blushing face. 

"I want to room with Kiri—" Tsireya protests weakly. "How about girls in one tend and boys in the other?"

"But the tents are almost the same size!" Ao'nung yelps, eyeing his little sister in disdain. "That's four in one and two in the other."

"Oh, I guess, Neteyam can join us," Kiri grins coyly. 

Neteyam purses his lips. He understands what they're implying. "I'm not a girl."

"You're pretty, like one," Lo'ak hums, acting innocent. He pretends to inspect the diry under his finger nails. "And you paint your nails. You could do skincare together with your beasties."

"I will beat you with a frying pan, little brother."

Ao'nung inhales sharply, choking. He's trying to laugh, but he's so surprised. 

"You don't have a frying pan!" Lo'ak yells during a fit of giggles.

Neteyam shrugs. "We have to go home eventually."

Once the bickering dies down, they eventually figure it out. The final decision is that no couples are allowed to share a tent. There are some variations at first; Lo'ak doesn't want to room with Ao'nung. Kiri doesn't want to sleep in the same tent as Lo'ak. 

Neteyam does end up with Tsireya and Kiri. He doesn't mind. Sharing with his little brother did not appeal to him. The dorm room situation is enough. 

"Want to go on a walk, Tey?" Ao'nung slips an arm around his shoulder.

Neteyam was standing around, staring at the stars. He shakes his head. "No, it's fine. We shouldn't go anywhere in the dark." 

"Scared?" Ao'nung smirks with a headtilt. 

Neteyam rolls his eyes and pinches him in the side gently. "No."

"You're beautiful," Ao'nung leans down to whisper in his ear. Neteyam closes his eyes, taking in a surprised, deep breath. "You grow more beautiful each day."

Neteyam smiles shyly and reaches into his pocket. "I have something for you."

Ao'nung blinks in surprise and lets his hand fall to Neteyam's hip. He pats it gently. "For me? Is it a kiss?"

Neteyam chuckles quietly and shakes his head. "If you want one. No, I made you something."

Ao'nung freezes when he sees the armband in Neteyam's delicate hands. He takes it carefully from Neteyam's hands and lifts it closer to his face, eyes filling with wonder. "You made this? Neteyam, I— this— is that the Great Mother's seed?" 

Neteyam nods slowly. His heart feels warm. "I did some research on your religion."

There is a proud, shiny shell secured to the brown leather of the armband. Around it, Neteyam has sown the fish symbols of the metcayinan Great Mother's in golden thread. Ao'nung is speechless. He doesn't understand what is happening. 

Neteyam had used the embroidery techniques of Ao'nung's people. 

"Where did you learn this?" Ao'nung asks finally. He unzips his jacket and tugs it off so he can put the armband on. 

Neteyam averts his gaze. "I attended a course during our senior year in high school. I was— I was going to confess with this."

"Confess?" Ao'nung asks quietly. He cannot tear his eyes from the beautiful leather band adorning his upper arm. "That was two years ago."

Neteyam wraps his arms around himself. "Nung, I've liked you since I was fifteen." 

 

Notes:

I just sat through a lecture about far-eastern art (idk how to translate it) and we learnt about mangas?? 😭
Like
How is this gonna help me become an interpretor
Why am I learning about Japanese manga in a Korean studies program

Chapter 15: Campfire Mojito

Ao'nung has always known that something about Lo'ak was broken. It's in the way he carries himself and even in the way he always tries to start silly fights. 

They're sitting around the campfire, smelling like smoke. Neteyam is leaned against him, curling into his side. He's holding a small bottle of 5% cider. Lo'ak has a mojito and he shares it with Tsireya. 

Kiri is silent as she listens to her friends. Lo'ak is the first to admit something is wrong at home. Neteyam flinches away from his brother every time their eyes meet.

Rotxo is unsure what to say; he has his own problems. So, in a nervous attempt to comfort Lo'ak, he talks. "My parents were killed by whale-hunters. They were trying to protect the whales but it didn't work."

"How old were you?" Kiri’s voice is soft, gentle, like she knows the main story but she hasn't been told of the details. 

Rotxo was ten years old when he was placed under the care of his grandmother.

Neteyam is fiddling with his fingers. His pupils are a little wide and his cheeks are flushed with warmth. He's tipsy, bordering drunk. Neteyam's words are so tender and so sincere when he offers his condolences to Rotxo, that silence falls upon the group and it seems to stretch for minutes. Ao'nung is speechless. He never imagined that Neteyam is capable of comforting others like this.

His hazy mind doesn't remember the words, but he remembers the feelings. It's bittersweet and warm.

Lo'ak is holding Tsireya, comforting her even though he is the one that needs the comfort. Ao'nung almost gets up to wrap him in an embrace, but his little love is holding onto him. 

The night sky is the witness of their friendship. 

Lo'ak is fumbling about with his hands before he sighs and slumps forwards. His words spill like wine from a broken bottle. "Dad doesn't love me and mom is always mad at me. They always tell me how I should be like Neteyam — it's okay, bro, I don't hate you for it. They never congratulate me and sometimes they forget my birthday because it's so close to their anniversary."

Neteyam clenches his jaw; Ao'nung pulls him closer. Tsireya is looking down at the fire. Her lips are pursed. 

"Dad hits us," Neteyam murmurs, voice frail. 

Lo'ak's eyes widen, because he didn't know they'd be spilling all their secrets. "Bro– the way you say that makes it sound so much worse than it is!"

Neteyam's lips twitch; he almost smiles but it's bitter. He throws some leaves onto the fire and watches as the embers dance towards the starry night sky before the wind carries them away somewhere far. "Sorry. He's a great dad. Really. He just doesn't always know how to handle us."

"What is there to handle about you?" Kiri cuts in, eyes wide with furry. It is not directed at the brothers. "You're both great kids! Neteyam, you're literally doing two degrees at once—"

Lo'ak curls in on himself. "I will be, too. I just got my acceptance letter."

Neteyam is tired of this argument. Everyone always thinks he is so perfect because he is completing two academic programs at the same time. He wants someone to recognise him for something that he is. Not always just something that he does. 

"Oh, Baby Sully, good for you!" Ao'nung grins. He is genuinely impressed and his fake facade of hating Lo'ak cracks. "Clever like your big bro."

Lo'ak doesn't mind it when Ao'nung compares him to Neteyam. Ao'nung knows. So he does it with compliments. Ao'nung is a big brother — he's willing to be a pillar for Lo'ak to lean on, too. Neteyam smiles at him like he hung the very stars above them. 

"Wow, Lo'ak–" Kiri gasps. "What are you going to learn?"

"Military science." 

Neteyam hides his face in Ao'nung's neck as he giggles. Ao'nung sets his half finished beer down and places a hand on the back of his head. He caresses Neteyam thight braids.

Tsireya is awfully quiet. Her brows are furrowed and Ao'nung can sense she is so close to breaking. "Your dad hits you?"

She's looking right at Lo'ak. The younger Sully freezes, like a deer in the headlights. "Uh— not a lot, just when we do something incredibly stupid."

"Like what?" Ao'nung asks suddenly. He wants to take the weight of prodding off Tsireya's shoulders. 

"Like that time I broke the doorknob."

Neteyam smiles at the memories (his brain has long since erased the negative parts). "Baby bro, you remember when you accidentally set dad's tennis balls on fire?" 

Lo'ak flushes. "Yeah. But you're the one who completely destroyed his work computer with that virus."

Ao'nung can't imagine Neteyam doing something like this; something so silly. 

"Who walked into the frame when dad was on a video call with his higher ups wearing only boxers?"

Ao'nung chokes. He suddenly pities Tsireya because if she does end up marrying Lo'ak and having children with him, the chances are they'll inherited all of Lo'ak's nonsense. 

Kiri is holding her side as she laughs and Tsireya seems to feel better too. She shares a look with Ao'nung. Ao'nung smirks. 

They're all pleasantly buzzed. Tsireya is feeling mischief coursing through her veins. "Let's play a game!"

"Which one?" Kiri leans closer to her. 

Ao'nung watches his baby sister think hard for a moment before sitting up straight and proud. "Truth or dare?"

Despite pretending otherwise, Ao'nung likes this game because it's so stupid and reckless. 

Tsireya nods in satisfaction when nobody protests. "Can I go first?"

"Sure, it was your idea," Kiri replies with an excited smile.

"Okay!" Tsireya claps her hands together and giggles. "Lo'ak,  truth or dare?"

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan puffs his chest out akd grins proudly. "Dare!"

"I dare you to—" Tsireya hums in thought. "Show the last five people you texted and what the messages said!"

Lo'ak blinks, dumbfounded before he fishes his phone out of his pocket. "Okay. The first one is to my dad. I said that we're staying up late so we might come home later."

"Come on, baby Sully!" Ao'nung snorts. "Don't you have something better than that?"

Lo'ak rolls his eyes. He clicks the next message and flushes. "Ah, this one is to my mum."

"What did you text her?" Kiri peaks over his shoulder, standing behind him. She covers her mouth, shoulders shaking silently. "Oh my Eywa! Lo'ak, you're so nasty—"

"Hey! Leave me alone—" Lo'ak yelps. 

Kiri snatches his phone and lifts it closer to her face. "Hey mom! How do you wash the suspicious white stains out of bedsheets?"

Lo'ak shudders and reaches for his phone. Kiri doesn't put up a fight. Neteyam is covering his face as a wave of second hand embarrassment washes over him but Ao'nung and Rotxo are howling with laughter.

Tsireya blushes so red that Neteyam worries if she's going to faint. 

"Okay, next one was for Neteyam." Lo'ak scrolls a little before sighing in defeat. "Sorry, bro. Can you stop putting your used condoms in the bedroom trashcan?" 

Neteyam wants to disappear because suddenly everyone is eyeing him with knowing looks. Ao'nung doesn't seem bothered even thought the condoms are technically his.

Lo'ak's last two messages are boring. He's only begging some of his classmates for homework answers and notes.

"Okay, thanks for that, Tsireya, those were the most embarrassing minutes of my life," Lo'ak sighs out dramatically before turning to Kiri. "Truth or dare, fake sister?"

Kiri thinks for a moment. "Okay, I'm feeling bold. Dare."

Lo'ak grins, scrunching his nose. "Say two honest things about everyone else in the group." 

Kiri relaxes, shoulders slumping in relief. "Okay. I'm going to start with you, smartass. One, you are very annoying—" Lo'ak gasps in offence. "Two, I think your vitiligo is pretty." 

Lo'ak blinks in surpirse and leans back slightly as he sits on a log. "Oh. Thanks."

Kiri turns to Tsireya, who is roasting three marshmallows at once. She smiles sweetly at Kiri, eager to hear Kiri’s two true thoughts about her. "You're the kindest person I know. I think your brother is nasty and I don't get ho you two are related. "

Tsireya giggles and glances to Ao'nung. Ao'nung scowls in pretend offence. Kiri continues. "Rotxo, you're literally the cutest boy in the whole world. I used to think you're kind of ugly when we were fifteen."

Neteyam is next. "I think you're too hard on yourself. Also, I'm incredibly jealous of your belly-button piercing."

"Thanks, I guess," Neteyam murmurs, a bit embarrassed but feeling fuzzy. 

He likes how they're just having mindless fun. There are no consequences and nobody is trying to hurt the other. Ao’nung leans forward curiously when Kiri’s eyes land on him. 

She smiles sweetly but it's all fake. She's preparing an attack. "Ao'nung, my dear friend. Your cologne sucks."

"Speak for yourself," Ao'nung retorts. "Some people like it a lot."

Kiri shrugs. "You guys wanted me to be honest. Okay, anyway. My second thought about you. I think Eywa created you just for Neteyam."

Ao'nung doesn't entirely understand what Kiri’s words mean, but they seem sincere and kind, so he nods in gratitude. 

"Neteyam," Kiri turns to him. "Trust or dare?"

Neteyam does not hesitate. "Dare."

Rotxo lets out a soft laugh. "Everyone is feeling very brave today."

"Indeed. I dare you to kiss someone on the lips. It can't be Ao'nung!" Kiri giggles, leaning against Rotxo.

"Ah, come on, Kiri." Neteyam glances at Ao'nung, embarrassed but not upset. "I've only ever kissed Ao'nung before." 

Kiri shrugs. "Okay. That's a you problem."

Neteyam knows he can back out, nobody is forcing him — but he feels a curious desire rise within his chest. Neteyam pats Ao'nung's shoulder and stands. He takes a deep breath and looks around his friends. He feels safe here. Everyone has a significant other, so it doesn't matter who he chooses. (It's not going to be Lo'ak, though.)

He hesitates before coming to kneel in front a petite, feminine figure.

Lo'ak eyes him in mild annoyance but doesn't complain as he watches his brother slowly close the space between Tsireya's lips and his own. It's soft and short. Tsireya doesn't even blush, but she does touch her lips with her fingertips in surprise after it ends. Neteyam knows they look pretty together. 

He laughs softly and pats her head. "I definitely like men only."

Ao'nung snorts. Lo'ak's eyes widen before he bursts into a fit of giggles. Kiri seems surprised that Neteyam actually followed through with the dare. Rotxo is worried because he knows he is next.

"Did you really choose Tsireya to see what it's like to kiss a girl?" Lo'ak wheezes, rubbing his eyes as amused teardrops stain his lashes. "Bro!"

Neteyam shrugs, pretending to be innocent. "I'm actually trying to steal her from you."

Lo'ak throws a handful of leaves his way, but he's too far and they fall to the ground. Tsireya hands him a marshmallow. 

"Okay, Nung. Truth or dare?"

"Dare me, baby."

Neteyam rolls his eyes as Lo'ak pretends to gag in the background. "I dare you to kiss my baby bro on the mouth. Just so we're even."

Lo'ak falls silent. His mouth is hanging open in shock. Ao'nung looks exactly the same. "Tey!"

"Bro!"

Neteyam glances to the side, nonchalant. "You can always chicken out."

Ao'nung glares at him for a moment before he stands and marches over to Lo'ak. He grabs the younger and tugs him to his feet. He's only doing this because Neteyam teased him. Lo'ak tries to run away, but Ao'nung keeps him in place with a hand on the backpf his neck. He tugs him forward and closes the space between them. 

Lo'ak whines, clenching his eyes shut. He's embarrassed and he feels small compared to Ao'nung. It freaks him out. 

Ao'nung pulls away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He grumbles something as their friends laugh at their misery. He dares Rotxo to peel a banana with his toes.

Surprisingly enough, his roommate manages to complete the task without making too much of a mess. Eventually, after a few more rounds of embarrassing questions and pranks, they put out the fire and climb into their respective tents. 

Neteyam's sleeping back is between Kiri’s and Tsireya's. He feels a little out of place with the two girls lying so close to him. 

"Hey," Kiri asks. It's nearing two in the morning. "Can I ask you something?"

"Me?" Tsireya furrows her brows, turning to face them.  It's so dark, she struggles to make out even their shapes.

Kiri chuckles. "No. Neteyam, are you awake?"

"Is that what you've been wanting to ask me?" Neteyam teases her gently. 

Kiri scoffs. She shakes her head even though nobody can see her do it in the dark. They can hear Lo'ak and Ao'nung bickering in the other tent. They're trying to be quiet about it. 

"You don't need to answer if it makes you uncomfortable," Kiri begins. They're all a little bit tipsy. "I'm just curious. What is it like for you to do it? With Ao'nung."

Neteyam is surprised, but he doesn't feel embarrassed. "I assume it's the same if you tried— uh, the back with Rotxo."

"Ah, but I don't want to."

Neteyam bites his lip. "It's really nice. He's very gentle. Ah, I always take it. It's never been the other way around."

"Ao'nung doesn't want to?" Tsireya questions quietly, startling Neteyam. He's forgotten that she's there too.

"It just hasn't really been a topic we've discussed yet."

Kiri seems satisfied with his answers. They fall asleep to the soft sounds of wind.

Notes:

Was gonna aim for a 3-4k word chapter but then I felt like this was enough

Chapter 16: I'm A Little Unsteady

Summary:

Sorry for the delay. I went to the cinema to see avatar 2 again and then spent the entire afternoon making human au outfits for everyone 🤣🤣🤣
Peek them at the end of the chapter haha

The next morning, they are lounging around when Neteyam realises he never saw Ao'nung bring his backpack to their campsite. He furrows his brows and sets his half finished sandwich down on a napkin by the fire.  

He turns to Ao'nung, who is sitting around eating some fish fingers Ronal had made him before they left. "Nung, Where's my backpack?"

"The one with the books?" Ao'nung does not even lookat him, but he does smirk.

Neteyam frowns. "Yes."

"I locked it in the trunk." Ao'nung crosses his arms, setting his food down as well. He lifts his pale blue gaze and meets Neteyam head on. There's something dangerous twinkling in his eyes. "It's staying there."

Neteyam sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Nungie–" 

"No."

"Please?" Neteyam tries again, but Ao'nung won't give in, not this time, not with this.

"Baby, we're about to go hiking. You won't have time." Ao'nung stands up and walks over to him, placing gentle hands on both his shoulders.  He tilts his head down to look in Neteyam's eyes. 

Neteyam admits defeat with a small kiss to Ao'nung's lips. 

"Come on, lovebirds," Kiri chuckles, walking by and patting Neteyam's back. "Are you ready?"

Ao'nung nods, letting go of Neteyam and stepping back. He gathers his fish fingers and packs them away securely in the portable cooler. 

"We should put the tents away," Rotxo suggests, scratching the back of his neck with a friendly smile on his face.

"Yeah, you're right. Someone might steal them or something," Lo'ak agrees with an enthusiastic nod. "Ao'nung, can you bring the car closer?"

Ao'nung doesn't reply, walking off swiftly. He reaches into his pocket and tugs out the car-keys, whistling as he leaves the clearing.

Neteyam helps Rotxo and Lo'ak take down the tents as Kiri and Tsireya gather the blankets and the pillows, loading them into Tonowari and Grace's cars. Neteyam decides that since Ao'nung won't let him study, he will just have to carry all of Neteyam's things during the hike. They finish packing everything away and put out the fire. Lo'ak immedietly takes Tsireya's little backpack from her and just stuff it into his own bag as it is. Tsireya giggles, because she wasn't expecting it (Neteyam doesn't really get why not, but he keeps his mouth shut, knowing his inner thoughts sound a little rude).

Kiri does not let Rotxo carry her things.

"Come on, Pabo Team, let's get going!" Lo'ak exclaims proudly, taking Tsireya's hand gently.

Ao'nung cringes. "What the hell is a pabo, you idiot?"

Neteyam is trying hard not to laugh because he knows. He does not know why his baby brother knows, but it is the funniest thing he's heard all morning. "It means idiot."

"I'm not an idiot-" Kiri protests at the news, shoving Lo'ak's back as he walks past her. He hardly flinches. "Speak for yourself, Lo'ak."

They bicker for a good half an hour, walking around the mesmerising, swirling paths of pine and berries. Most of the bushes have lost their leaves with the steady approach of winter, but the evergreens keep everything cheerful with their deep green shades. Kiri is taking a million photos of both the nature around them and her friends too. She loves memories and treasures each moment she gets to spend with them.

Neteyam falls a little behind, smiling fondly as he watches his people have fun. He's feeling a little quiet that day; Neteyam does not join the bickering because he's feeling too soft to come up with meaningless insults.

Lo'ak gathers a handful of tiny pinecones and starts pelting Ao'nung with them - his attacks end up being his greatest mistake because Ao'nung charges at him, backpack and all, and throws Lo'ak over his shoulder. Kiri snaps a few pictures. Rotxo is cheering them on, clapping in excitement. Lo'ak actually shrieks with laughter and hits Ao'nung's back where the bag doesn't reach weakly. 

Tsireya is giggling, delightful chimes leaving her throat as she adjusts her homemade little deep blue crop top. She's in cream cargo pants that she bought only for this occasion. She does not own many pants.

Eventually, they calm down enough to walk slowly, chattering amongst each other about everything and nothing at all.

"Hey, bro. Tell us something embarrassing about Ao'nung!" Lo'ak teases, nudging Neteyam. 

The oldest Sully child takes a moment to think before he shares a look with Ao'nung. The surfer boy is shaking his head but Neteyam doesn't care. "He cries from horror movies."

There is fit of giggles before Ao'nung demands that Lo'ak also shares something about Neteyam. Lo'ak is reluctant at first but the temptation gets to him. "Sometimes he shops from the women's section."

"That's not really that embarrassing," Kiri replies lightly. "Nowadays, there's a lot of unisex stuff there."

Neteyam knows that; it's why he does actually buy some T-shirts from there. "You gotta try harder than that, baby bro."

"Fine," Lo'ak rolls his eyes and claps, pointing a finger at Neteyam. "Mom caught him trying on her lingerie when he was fourteen."

Neteyam actually does blush this time. 

"What is it with you and women's clothes?" Kiri laughs. 

Neteyam shrugs. "It's nothing—"

"You tried on your mom's lingerie?" Ao'nung takes a moment to process the information. 

"Do you like the mental image, big brother?" Tsireya smirks, tilting her head.

Neteyam bites back a laugh, because he is certain that Ao'nung likes the idea, but Neteyam doesn't want to dress in women's lingerie. He tried it once because he got curious. He also tried on his father's clothes a lot, especially his suits and his army uniforms. 

"Ao'nung shouldn't like it, because I won't do it."

Ao'nung visibly deflates and it ears a round of chuckles and giggles.

Lo'ak thinks for a moment. "Neteyam likes taking mirror selfies after showering and he actually sends them to me."

"Naked?!" Ao'nung yelps. 

"Ew—" Lo'ak gags. "Obviously not."

"I dare you to show us," Kiri grins and nudges Rotxo. They share a look and it makes Neteyam smile, because they're so close they don't need words to communicate. 

"Nah," Lo'ak replies, waving her off. "Okay, wait. Just one."

"Bro!" It's Neteyam's turn to yelp, eyes wide. He tries to scurry over to his brother, but Ao'nung grabs him around the waist because he's curious too. He wants to see Neteyam's pictures. Tsireya also takes a hold of Neteyam's hand, but it's more for comfort than to hold him back.

Lo'ak's fingers are quick. He finds a photo he likes and holds it up. 

Neteyam freezes.

His back is in full view; he's shirtless with only his sweatpants on. His hair is unbraided and tied up in a fluffy bun, soft curls twirling together. On the photo, Neteyam is peeking backwards into the camera, which is covering the lower half of his face.

"Lo'ak," he says weakly. "Why would you— that picture —" 

Lo'ak's lips part in surprise. They've all stopped walking a few minutes ago. "What is it?"

Rotxo looks away from Lo'ak's phone, lips pursed because he had been just as eager to see it as everyone else. Tsireya doesn't let go of Neteyam's hand. She already knew. Ao'nung mentioned it weeks ago. She found it cute because the white tiger stripes decorating Neteyam's skin make Ao'nung swoon. 

"Tey?" Lo'ak locks his phone but it is too late. Everyone saw it. "Bro? What is it? You sent me a million of these—" 

Neteyam closes his eyes tightly, chest rising and falling much quicker than just a mere minute ago. Kiri is the first to understand him. "Neteyam, it's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed off."

Neteyam shakes his head. "I'm not ashamed–"

"Then what is wrong?" Kiri asks. She glances at Lo'ak but can't find it in herself to be mad at him because Lo'ak looks like he's on the verge of tears. The last thing he meant to do is hurt his big brother. 

Neteyam knows. He knows, but it's so hard not to be angry. He's fuming, furious. "Leave me alone."

He yerks away from Ao'nung and Tsireya, walking off by himself. Ao'nung moves to follow him immediately, but Kiri grabs his arm. "Don't. You shouldn't bother him when he's like this."

"But he could get lost!" Ao'nung pulls his arm away.

Lo'ak sighs and slumps forward, shoulders curling. "Don't go after him. He can get violent."

"Violent?" Ao'nung hisses out, frowning deeply. "Are we even talking about the same person?"

"Ao'nung –" Kiri warns. She's holding on to Rotxo. "Neteyam was raised to be soldier."

"But he's not violent!" 

"Yes, he is!" Lo'ak yells, fed up of the rising tension. Silence falls over them. "He is! Okay? He mirrors dad's behaviour. He can't help it so he removes himself from situations where he might lash out! Just leave him alone!"

"You're one to talk!" Ao'nung's own voice raises and he makes a move to stomp over to Lo'ak but Tsireya slaps him in the back of the head. It stuns him into silence. 

"Brother, calm down." 

Ao'nung takes a deep breath and nods once. "Fine. When is he going to come back?"

Lo'ak shakes his head. "I don't know."

 

---

 

Neteyam does not go far. He can hear everything they said. He wonders what is worse, if his friends know what he looks like or the fact they now know he's violent too. 

In the end, he doesn't find the strength to care. 

For about twenty minutes, he sits in silence, eyes closed and swaying with the wind. Neteyam hates it when people don't respect his boundaries. He knows that Lo'ak didn't mean to hurt him, but that does not change the fact that he is hurt.

Neteyam calms down. He feels numb. 

Ao'nung is the first to come to him when he emerges from the woods. "Baby—"

"Sorry."

"No, bro–" Lo'ak cuts in. He comes to stand next to his big brother and touches his shoulder gently. "I should have realised."

Neteyam shakes his head. He flicks his tongue over his lower lip to rid it of the dryness and then sucks it between his teeth. "I'm not going to tell you that it's okay, but I don't hate you for it."

Lo'ak nods. He doesn't say anything because there is nothing more to say. 

Kiri does not walk over to them but she is not far. "Neteyam. They're beautiful."

Neteyam's head hurts. He does not want to talk about this. "Stop. Please, just stop. I can't handle this right now."

Neteyam despises the marks on his skin. It only took one mean comment for him to feel this way. He was seven. The marks were less than half their current size. 

Tsireya waits a moment before speaking. Her voice is soft and frail. "Should we go home? It's your call, Neteyam."

"No, it's okay. It's not even noon yet." 

So they stay. They wander the woods. Slowly, the tension melts away. Ao'nung does not stray further than an arms lenght from Neteyam. He leads him with a hand on his lower back.

"Bro–" Lo'ak whispers nervously. "You can– you can lost some embarrassing things about me if you want to."

"I think you're embarrassed enough already, baby bro."

"I didn't know," Lo'ak insists. "I thought you sent the pictures because you like them. You always say mine look good."

Neteyam finds himself tearing up. He pulls away from Ao'nung and wraps his little brother on a hug. He knows his reaction makes Lo'ak doubt himself too. Neteyam remembers all the nights he spent comforting Lo'ak about his vitiligo; how he would take his shirt off and turn his back because his big brother is the same. And it's okay to have flaws if Neteyam has flaws too. 

Ao'nung doesn't think the patterns are flaws. 

 

---

Neteyam gets an e-mail in the middle of the week that he cannot continue working at the bank.

He's confused. 

The only reason he is given is that his boss no longer has an opportunity to employ him. 

He reads it right before a class he shares with Tsireya's friends. His mood sours rapidly and he does not know what to do with himself. 

There is a sad smiley face at the end of the message and his old boss wishes him good luck. 

So, Neteyam focuses on taking the prettiest, neatest notes he ever did. Normally, he doesn't use highlights or colourful pens and he doesn't write down the translations, but this time, he takes good care of each letter he writes, forming them clearly. He knows how to write perfect little round circles of his o's and his hangeul comes out looking like printed text. He needs something, anything else to focus on because he's already dreading having to tell his father about this — then, he panicks and knocks his watterbottle off his desk in his hurry to grasp his phone. 

The teacher watches him. Neteyam stands and mutters a quick apology (in Korean, because he knows the effort does not go unnoticed). He slips outside and hurriedly screenshots the e-mail. Then, he deletes it, and he deletes it from his bin, too. 

He might be too late, but he isn't sure. 

He hurries to the bathroom, splashing cold water into his face in an attempt to calm himself. He knows his classmates are wondering what happened. 

Every term, it changes who he shares his language classes with because of the way their university's system is; he makes sure to be kind to everyone, so he knows some of them must be worried. They come to him often, asking for help with homework. Occasionally, he attends study groups and tutors them. 

It is strange.

He suddenly has nothing to do (except job hunting). Neteyam isn't used to this. It feels like his time is infinite but in reality, it is not. He still needs to study and cook and the usual domestic nonsense his mother took great pride in teaching him.

He returns to class and the teacher does not call on him; sometimes, Neteyam is grateful for his desires to befriend his professors. 

 

---

 

Neteyam is alone in his dorm room when Ao'nung texts him, asking if he wants to go on a date. 

Neteyam does not want to do anything. He's tired, extremely so. He doesn't say no. 

Neteyam tugs his clothes into place and grabs his bag, heading to Ao'nung's room. Ao'nung lets him in and smiles gently. He recognises that something is not quite right, but he leaves it alone. Neteyam is barely holding it together. He despises job interviews and he hates the phone calls even more.

Ao'nung frowns deeply when he notices Neteyam's expression. "Baby? Oh, come here. We don't have to go anywhere."

Neteyam lets out a deep breath and does not resist as Ao'nung tugs him to bed. "Where's Rotxo?"

"Went home early for the weekend. His classes got cancelled."

"Actually, Nung," Neteyam murmurs gently, placing a hand on Ao'nung's cheek. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

"Okay."

---

 

 

Notes:

When I said I "made" the outfits I did indeed mean that I literally went and tried all of them on and switched out things I didn't like LMFAO
Side note: every single item of clothing is from the womens section. all of them xddd I look ass in mens clothes
side side note: my bestie bought both aonung sweaters kdflhsdfjsfdh

Chapter 17: Roles Reversed

Summary:

*sips holy water casually*

---

A few weeks after their camping trip, the young group of people get together again.

This time, they don't stray far. It's the weekend and Mr and Mrs Sully are away from home. Tuktirey is with grandmother Mo'at. 

Lo'ak invites everyone. 

Spider isn't allowed to come because his father despises Jake Sully. Kiri feels bad for their shortest friend, but Ao'nung even seems relieved. He never quite manages to get along with Spider. 

Neteyam does not cook. At first, he wants to and almost feels bad, but then he decides against it. He isn't the third parent. This is not his job. 

They're all lazing around in the living room, chattering amongst each other mindlessly about everything and nothing at all. 

"Do you guys want kids one day?" Tsireya asks from her spot next to Lo'ak.

She's cuddled into his side and he's playing with one of her curls. Kiri has already taken at least five photos of them. They've all landed in the groupchat, but nobody is really checking it right now.

"I haven't thought about that before," Kiri hums. She sets her phone aside and takes a sip of her water. "I'm not overly fond of the idea of getting pregnant to be honest."

Neteyam listens quietly. He shares a look with Ao'nung, who nods to him and places a hand on the back of Neteyam's head, caressing his hair.

"I want a big family," Lo'ak buts in, silly grin on his face. It makes Tsireya giggle.

This is definitely the most adult conversation they have ever had (that was not an argument). 

"What about you, brother?" Tsireya smiles encouragingly as she leans her head on Lo'ak's shoulder.

Ao'nung bows his head a little. They've talked about this before. Neteyam takes his hand in his own and squeezes gently. "We can't have kids."

Neteyam flicks his tongue over his lower lip and averts his gaze. 

"You could adopt," Kiri offers. 

Ao'nung hums and shakes his head. "I don't think that's the right path for me, to be honest."

"Why not?" Rotxo leans a little closer. "You could adopt a newborn baby. It doesn't have to be an older child."

"But picking the gender and age and everything is just not something I can imagine myself doing."

"Tey?" Lo'ak asks curiously. "What do you think?"

Neteyam sniffs and glances his brother's way, cheeks dusting with a gentle blush. He tugs his sleeves over his hands and pulls his knees up, hugging himself. His braids fall in front of his face as he sighs softly and hangs his head. Ao'nung snakes an arm around his waist.

"I don't know," Neteyam replies quietly. "I do want a child but you know I can't, bro."

Tsireya lets a soft noise of surprise and sits up straight, startling Lo'ak into letting her go. "I could carry a child for you two! That way, it can be like both you and Ao'nung."

Neteyam stares at her, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in shock. 

Ao'nung watches her baby sister and his eyes are full of something that Neteyam cannot read. "Tsireya, you don't have to."

"Lo'ak already wants three kids anyway, what's carrying one more."

Lo'ak whines in protest at the exposal. Tsireya swats at him to quieten him down. She doesn't think this is anything to be embarrassed about.

 

 

---

 

Ao'nung takes a shaky breath. Neteyam is smiling down at him, caressing his cheek. "It will be fine, Nung. If you don't like it, we'll just stop."

Ao'nung nods. He's lying on his back in Neteyam's bed. The door is locked.

He remembers his conversation with Neteyam from a few weeks ago and he flushes even more. Ao'nung never could have imagined that he'd be in this situation. Neteyam presses a kiss to his lips and trails his hands down Ao'nung's body. 

Ao'nung think this feels good (he does prefer to be a little more in control though).

They're naked.

Neteyam is still wearing his silly little socks because his toes get cold. It makes him uncomfortable and Ao'nung doesn't mind that he won't have to feel those icy peas touch him anywhere.

Ao'nung lets Neteyam settle between his legs. They're trying out something new.

Neteyam had been the one to ask and Ao'nung got curious enough to agree to it. He is going to let Neteyam top him; it makes his stomach flutter with butterflies — or maybe it's a hornet's nest. Perhaps the hornets are attacking the butterflies. 

Ao'nung's mind blanks when Neteyam presses a kiss to the side of his throat. He tilts his head and exposes his neck a little more. Neteyam nibbles gently on the skin, then sucks. He doesn't pull away until there is a noticeable bitemark decorating Ao'nung's soft, tan skin.

Ao'nung's fingers tangled amongst thin braids. He tugs Neteyam up for another kiss and arches up against him, pressing their chests together. 

Neteyam trails his fingers down Ao'nung's chest. He ghosts over a nipple to which Ao'nung twitches, inhaling sharply. He's already submitted control to Neteyam. 

"Tey," he moans softly.

Neteyam smiles, stomach flipping around with his own zoo of winged creatures. This feels an awful lot like doing it for the first them again. Neteyam knows how to touch for it to feel good, but Ao'nung's body is just a little bit different. He tries to close his legs when Neteyam caresses his inner thighs.

He doesn't really like the feeling so Neteyam switches to holding his hips, tugging him down a little, closer.

"Are you ready, Nungie?" Neteyam smiles down at him and Ao'nung nearly swoons from the way his bunny teeth make an appearance. He can only nod, mesmerised by the boy above him. 

Neteyam pushes his braids over his shoulders and sits back. He reaches for the lube tangled into their sheets and coats his fingers. 

He adjusts Ao'nung's legs and kisses his knee. Ao'nung smiles at that. 

"It might be a little bit weird at first," Neteyam admits. "But only for a minute or so."

Ao'nung nods. "Alright."

His arms are limp by his side, fingers tangling along the blankets but not really holding on to them. 

Neteyam touches a single fingertip to Ao'nung's entrance, rubbing gently, trying to get him to ease up. "Relax, baby. You will be fine."

Ao'nung swallows thickly because Neteyam is not one to use such terms of endearment and he kind of really likes it. He's aroused, member lying flat against his stomach.

Neteyam presses the finger inside halfway. Ao'nung's hips jerk up and he stutters out something incoherent at first before he gives up talking at all. He wants to put on a brave face but he feels vulnerable. 

He wonders if Neteyam feels the same.

Neteyam kisses his shoulder and presses the finger in deeper, he waits a breath and curls it, searching for that spot to make Ao'nung see stars. It takes a moment, because Neteyam only knows how to do this for himself and the angle is different. 

Ao'nung gasps slowly, the last of his resolve breaking away. He closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath, letting his tense shoulders relax, melting into the mattress.

Neteyam plays around with him for a bit, moving his hand back and forth or simply curling his finger before he deems Ao'nung ready for the second finger. He lets Ao'nung know what he is about to do.

"Okay," Ao'nung pants out, pupils blown wide and mouth parted, shiny with moisture as he keeps licking his lips. His cheeks are flushed with colour. 

Neteyam is gentle; it's a tight fit at first so he makes sure to be extra careful. He knows Ao'nung is shy. He also knows Ao'nung wouldn't tell him if it hurts until the very last pieces of his walls are standing. 

Ao'nung moans softly (Neteyam almost doesn't hear him, because Ao'nung is naturally always quiet during sex). His head rolls to the side and he grabs his own thighs to keep his legs spread and pulled up. Neteyam watches him, a tender look in his eyes. It doesn't make a difference to him which role he assumes in this, but he understands that Ao'nung is reluctant. 

He appreciates his surfer boy. 

Neteyam applies a little more lube and fingers him slowly, feeling Ao'nung's body loosen. He thinks for a moment and decides to add just one more finger. He isn't necessarily small. Actually — he is very much aware that the 'big hands' rule applies to him too. 

Back when they were younger, Ao'nung was thinner than him, his shoulders a little slanted and hips narrow. Now, as the years passed, Ao'nung steadily filled out, shoulder broadening until he was all in all bigger than Neteyam. 

Ao'nung took hold of his wrist gently, tugging his hand away. "I'm ready."

Neteyam kisses him gently, smiling against his mouth. He's a little nervous, but he thinks he can manage this. He lays flat against Ao'nung's body, chest to chest and promptly rolls them over so Ao'nung is straddling him. 

Ao'nung's surprise is undisguised. He blinks quickly before swallowing thickly, Adam's apple bobbing. He looks unsure of himself. "Tey, what are you–"

"It's better if you do this at your own pace." Neteyam places his hands on Ao'nung's hips, stroking the skin with his thumbs. 

Ao'nung hesitates for a moment. "Oh, okay."

Neteyam waits for him to pick up his courage (which fell apart somewhere along the way). Ao'nung finally reaches for the box of condoms lying by Neteyam's head and takes one out, opening the wrapper easily.

He shuffles back onto Neteyam's legs and rolls the condom onto his member. He coats him with lube (perhaps a little more than he actually needs) and wipes his hand on Neteyam's sheets. Neteyam snorts and shakes his head. 

He's never worn a condom before and it's a little strange at first, but he gets used to it quite quickly.

He doesn't let go of Ao'nung's hips, still drawing soothing patterns with his thumbs. Ao'nung swallows again and lifts himself up onto his knees, hovering above Neteyam. Neteyam does not say or do anything, he only blinks lazily up at Ao'nung, a small ghost of a smile on his face. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. 

Ao'nung purses his lips and reaches down behind his back, holding Neteyam's member in place. He lowers himself a little until the tip bumps against his entrance, then he stills. It's a warm feeling, one he doesn't expect. It gives him a little courage to move down further.

Neteyam's eyes fall closed as Ao'nung begins to sink down onto him. The slide is easy and moist, but it burns a little. Ao'nung doesn't stop until he's fully seated. He shudders and sits still, trying to will his body to relax.

Neteyam's hands slip down to his legs, he massages Ao'nung's thighs (strictly on the outside, because Ao'nung doesn't like having his inner thigh touched).

Slowly, Ao'nung lifts himself, then sinks down again, lips parted but he is absolutely silent.

Someone walks by the door and it takes a second for Neteyam to recognise his brother's voice. He's talking to someone, probably Rotxo or Kiri. Their voices fade away and it's just the two of them in their bubble again.

Neteyam lifts himself onto his elbows and Ao'nung leans down to kiss him sweetly.

"Are you okay?" Neteyam whispers against his lips, tongue flicking out teasingly and running over Ao'nung's mouth. 

Ao'nung nods, panting softly. "Yeah– yeah, I'm okay."

Neteyam feels his heart clench with love. He wraps Ao'nung in his arms and gently rocks his hips up into his surfer boy's. Ao'nung moans softly in his ear. He hides his face in the crook of Neteyam's neck, trying to meet his thrusts.

It's a little awkward at first, because Ao'nung has no idea what he's doing; really, he's only copying what he's seen Neteyam do. 

Ao'nung can feel Neteyam's belly-button piercing against his own stomach and shivers. It's a little cold, but it warms up in moments. Ao'nung tugs on Neteyam's shoulder and tugs him into place, rolling them around so he was lying on his back, the archer leaning above him.

Neteyam braces himself on his arms, smiling as Ao'nung wrapped his legs around his waist in a loose grip. He pulled back before sliding back into Ao'nung's body, drawing a soft moan. 

Ao'nung relaxes completely, the burning stretch fading into pleasure only. He feels full, but it's a nice kind of fullness, one he wouldn't mind experiencing again some day. Not too son though. He likes the way Neteyam looks under him more than being the one underneath Neteyam like this.

But this is nice, Ao'nung thinks to himself. He tangles his fingers in Neteyam's hair and tugs him down into a kiss. Neteyam remains careful, he's moving slowly, but his thrusts are firm. He's focused, so he doesn't moan as much as usual; he's enjoying this. It changes the dynamics of their relationship a little; their trust deepens, as does their understanding of the other's body.  

They are one and the same, equals. If Neteyam belongs to Ao'nung, then Ao'nung belongs to him. They're each other's. Body and mind alike. 

Ao'nung is moaning faintly under him, body moving back and forth slightly each time Neteyam pushes against him. He's stretched out and willing.

Neteyam does not think he'll last much longer. Ao'nung is thight and warm, his heat surrounds Neteyam in ways he's never felt before. 

"Tey," Ao'nung whispers. He tilts his head, offering his throat again. 

Neteyam grins, silly with love. He sinks his teeth into Ao'nung's neck, but he doesn't break the skin. He sucks a blossoming bruise onto the tan skin and reaches down with one hand to grasp Ao'nung's dripping member. It's hit and wet against his palm. 

He jerks Ao'nung off to the same rhythm of his hips, feeling the way Ao'nung clenches and unclenches around him in pleasure. 

Ao'nung's release spills over Neteyam's hand, dripping down onto his own stomach. He cannot help clenching down, thighs trembling. Neteyam fucks him through his orgasm, peppering his neck with kisses.

Ao'nung reaches down and nudges Neteyam's hips back, trying to pull away, overwhelmed and sensitive. Neteyam pulls out slowly, he peeks down and watches the way Ao'nung clenches around nothing, stretched out, skin a little red. 

He tugs off the condom; he's very close, so he wraps a hand around himself and thumbs at his tip, leaning over Ao'nung's body. Ao'nung is watching him, eyes half lidded and utterly blissed out if his near black eyes are anything to go by. His legs fall to the side limply on either sides of Neteyam's hips.

Neteyam shudders, orgasm washing over him like sun-warmed waves. He spills onto Ao'nung's hip, eyes clenching shut. 

He doesn't want to fall down onto Ao'nung, so he lets himself stumble to the side, lying down beside the surfer. Ao'nung slowly closes his legs and stretches them out. He's sticky everywhere and he's sweating. 

Neteyam places a hand on Ao'nung's shoulder and squeezes gently. "How are you feeling?"

Ao'nung lets a lazy smile form on his face. "It's nice."

"Did you like it?" Neteyam asks carefully, pale brown eyes shining with nervousness.

Ao'nung chuckles. "I liked it because it was with you. You know just how to do this to me."

Neteyam blushes from the praise.

Chapter 18: Christmas Cookies

Summary:

Short ass chapter bc I was busy
Sorry for typoes

---

Winter break rolls around. 

Jake Sully still has no idea his son doesn't have a job anymore. Neteyam is only home for the weekend, so there really is no way for his father to find out. 

Neteyam doesn't tell Lo'ak in case his baby brother accidentally lets it slip. 

Break starts four days before Christmas. Neteyam already has every gift ready and wrapped at home, hidden in his closet behind piles of clothes.

Lo'ak is running around their dorm room, trying to find the gift he made for Tsireya (he forgot about everyone else), but he's struggling. 

Jake Sully is too busy to collect his sons, stuck in dangerous battle fields somewhere over the borders. Neteyam hates when he has to leave the country. 

They have to take the bus.

Neytiri doesn't fight anymore; she's strictly working in an office setting since the birth of her youngest child. She trains the newbies how to fly army jets. She actually knows how to fix them too.

Jake Sully cannot let go of his past as war hero. Every couple of years, he has to go somewhere for months. Neytiri is the only who knows. Nobody else in the family gets to find out because it is top secret.

Neteyam's father returns home with bruised and broken bones from every mission.

This time, he might not make it home for Christmas. 

"Lo'ak," Neteyam warns. "If we don't leave now, we're going to miss the bus."

"Leave me alone, asshole!" Lo'ak protests, throwing everything out on the floor from his part of the closet in search for his handmade present. "I need to find this."

"Baby bro–" Neteyam grunts. He's overheating his fat black cost, hat and scarf. Lo'ak is only in his sweater and oversized T-shirt. He hasn't even got his boots on yet. "It's the last bus."

"But the dorms will be closed until January!"

Neteyam sighs, head pounding in annoyance. "Lo'ak, please. I'll help you make a new one."

Lo'ak isn't impressed by his brother's offer. He scoffs. "No. I'm not giving her something you made. That's like you giving Ao'nung something I helped make."

Neteyam does not see the big deal. "I would. It'd be funny." 

Neteyam can imagine the way Ao'nung would flair around in agony (it's all fake but it's funny as hell) if Neteyam admitted that Lo'ak's fingers came anywhere near the armband he made for Ao'nung. 

"Bro, come on!" Neteyam snaps. His patience vanishes and he's tempted to physically remove his little brother from the room. He doesn't care if Lo'ak has to come home without shoes even though it is snowing. 

Lo'ak shrieks in delight and holds up a bracelet. Neteyam sighs in relief. 

"I found it!"

"Great," Neteyam replies, sarcasm dripping from every letter of the word he spits out. "Give it here, I'll hold it for you until you get dressed."

Despite his annoyance, he's careful when he takes the bracelet from Lo'ak. He inspects it curiously as his brother fumbles about their absolute hurricane wrecked dormroom, now struggling to find his boots. 

Neteyam thinks the bracelet is cute. Lo'ak made it from many beads. Omaticayan and metcayinan as well. The brown melts together with the teals and oranges beautifully. To lighten the entire complex structure of the patterns, Lo'ak added a majority of see-through beads. 

Neteyam doesn't have to count to know there's at least a hundred beads in the five rows that make up the bracelet.

"Okay!" Lo'ak yelps, grabbing his suitcase. "I'm ready."

Neteyam hands him the bracelet. He knows Lo'ak won't lose it because he hides it in his coats inner pocket, zipping it up securely. 

They make it to the bus, but barely.

 

---

 

Neytiri is attending Tuktirey's Christmas concert, so the house is empty when they stumble home.

Neteyam is absolutely exhausted by the end of it all. He heads straight to his room, collapsing into bed. It's around six o'clock and it's pitch black outside.

For the twenty-first, Neytiri invited Tonowari and his family to have lunch together at the Sully's house. Neteyam is excited. He's curious to see how Lo'ak behave in front of Tsireya's parents. 

Ao'nung was sure to try something to mess with the youngest Sully boy. 

Neteyam goes to bed early that night. He stuffs his clothes into the washing machine so it's ready for when he'll start it in the morning. Lo'ak insists on adding a few of his own shirts. Neteyam lets him.

In the morning, Neytiri is preparing a feast. She makes fish just how her mother had taught her to; while she's seasoning the large creatures, Neteyam is beside her, chopping vegetables for the soup. 

Lo'ak is not let into the kitchen. He's tasked with keeping Tuktirey busy. Neytiri does not need her youngest child to touch something hot again, like last holiday season. 

"Where do these go, mama?" Neteyam asks, eyes watering from the onions he's chopped up into tiny squares. 

"Half here on the fish, half to the side for later."

Neteyam does as told. 

He smells like a restaurant by the time all the food is done and it's close to noon. Tonowari is said to arrive at half past one. 

Neteyam decides that he really needs to wash his hair. Neytiri opens the windows to rid the house of the intense smell of herbs. It hardly works. 

Tuktirey loiters into the kitchen, on a mission to steal some cookies. Neytiri spots her and shouts at Lo'ak for not paying attention. Lo'ak tries hard no to laugh because Tuktirey looks flustered at having been caught. 

Neytiri scoops her up and takes her upstairs to get her dressed and ready for the little get together. 

Lo'ak slinks into the second bathroom, showering himself to not smell like the lunch they'll be eating.

Once the doorbell rings, Netiri hurries to tug her shoes and rushes to the door to open it, looking perfectly composed. Lo'ak is beside her in a second, silly grin on his face because he gets to see Tsireya. 

Neteyam peeks from the top of the stairway, body hidden from view by the wall. He spots Ao'nung and his eyes widen. He curses under his breath and runs back to his room. Ao'nung (and his entire family) had dressed so impossibly formal that Neteyam feels the need to change. 

He rumages for a cream coloured shirt and switches his simple sweater out to a nice cardigan too. He's wearing pale colours and they compliment his tanned skin nicely.

Neteyam hurries down the stairs to greet their guests.

Notes:

Second reason this chapter is short: wanted to focus on family dynamics without Jake

Chapter 19: Peach & Carrot

The next morning, Ao'nung walks into the kitchen and nearly does a double take (Ao'nung had slept over). There were a lot of things he'd expected to see, but this was not on the list, or anywhere near it for that matter.

He catches Neteyam standing in front of the fridge, hair a mess, pyjamas a wrinkled pile on his body, barefoot, chewing on a piece of sausage. The kind you usually boil in water.

Neteyam flushes when his eyes meet with Ao'nung's. He hides behind the open fridge door, toes curling as he shuffles his feet in obvious mortification at having been caught doing something so silly. 

"Tey, what on earth are you doing?" Ao'nung asks, voice held back because Neteyam's entire family is sleeping. 

Neteyam is silent for a second before he breathes out a hesitant little response. "Eating?"

Ao'nung can hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice even like this and he promptly snorts, shaking his head. He makes no attempt to walk closer, knowing Neteyam was feeling somewhat agitated. 

He glances around the kitchen and spots a small lactose free Jogobella peach yoghurt ready with a spoon next to it. Then, Ao'nung actually gags.

There is a small, 250g carrot and peach smoothie next to it. Ao'nung has never felt more offended by food before. His nose twitches and he has to physically turn his head to stop looking at the offensive container.

"Do you actually drink that crap?"

Neteyam closes the fridge door softly, frowning up at Ao'nung, defiance in his eyes. He knows exactly what Ao'nung is referring to. "Yes."

"By the Great Mother–" Ao'nung breathes out. "Neteyam, that is so nasty."

"You're nasty." 

Ao'nung blinks in surprise. "What? Why?!"

"Be quiet," Neteyam snaps, voice a harsh whisper. "You sweat so fucking much in your sleep that even I'm drenched in it."

For a moment, Ao'nung wonders if he actually did manage to insult Neteyam with his comments about that damned smoothie. Judging by the fierce look in the shorter male's eyes, definitely. He does feel a little embarrassed by the sweating. 

Neteyam takes the yoghurt from the counter and tears it open — he flinches back, getting squirted in the face. He grumbles something under his breath and wipes his face roughly.

Ao'nung has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing because the sight is comical. Some of the yoghurt had even landed in Neteyam's hair. He glares at Ao'nung as he walks over to him to wipe it off. 

"You're just peachy."

"Oh my god, you corny asshole," Neteyam gasps, looking visibly pained as his entire face scrunches up. He even reels back. "What does that even mean?"

"How are you going to call me an asshole for saying something when you don't even know what it means?" Ao'nung laughs softly, shaking his head. 

Neteyam rolls his eyes, pursing his lips. "I know enough to figure out you're being stupid."

"But I'm your stupid," Ao'nung smirks, cornering Neteyam against the kitchen counter, caging him with his arms. 

Neteyam stumbles back, nearly dropping his yoghurt. He sets it down, letting Ao'nung grab him by the hips, hitching a leg around his waist.

"Nung," his voice is set in a warning, which, Ao'nung pretends he cannot hear.

He can see the desire in the pale brown eyes and it sends tingles down his body. He kisses down Neteyam's neck softly, teasing the skin with his teeth. Neteyam's eyes shut, mouth hanging open as he pants softly, tilting his head. 

Ao'nung pulls him closer. 

"Ao'nung, please–" 

"Ew!" Lo'ak yells, jerking back and covering his eyes at the offence he's just witnessed, twirling back out of the kitchen. "Why do you have to do this here?!"

Neteyam pushes Ao'nung away with a surprised noise. Ao'nung barely stays standing, stumbling back. He turns to face the intruder, smirking. "Why not?"

Lo'ak stares at him for a moment in disbelief.  "You're unbelievable."

Ao'nung shrugs, cocky. Neteyam sighs tiredly and puts his yoghurt back into the fridge. He was not hungry anymore. He leaves the smoothie on the counter, dragging Ao'nung back upstairs, not caring if he's hungry or thirsty or anything at all. Ao'nung could wilt away like a parched cactus for all he cares.

He nudges Ao'nung back into his room and hisses, eyes watery with the intense mix of their smells. They've used up all the air in the room overnight.

"I told you–" He whines, shoulders slumping and he drags his feet as he makes it to the window, pushing it open swiftly. 

Ao'nung knows he's being dramatic about the smell; he isn't saying it does not exist, because it definitely does, but it is not as bad as Neteyam makes it out to be. A few minutes with the window open should be enough. 

Neteyam breathes in relief as the cold air laps at his cheeks. Ao'nung smiles, leaning against door and watching him. 

"I'm sorry," Neteyam mumbles, not looking at him.

Ao'nung stares at his back. "What for?" 

"I was being mean," Neteyam admits softly, stepping back and closing the window. He shuffles to his bed and untangles the sheets, fixing them. He has no intention of lying back down. 

Ao'nung realises that it's a measly six in the morning. It's barely even light out.

Ao'nung also realises that the mean one was him. He's the one who keeps mocking Neteyam's taste in drinks. He is the one who never even attempted to compliment Neteyam's skin after the incident with Lo'ak and the selfies.

Neteyam does not look at him as he goes about tidying his room, picking up their scattered clothes and folding them neatly. He seems to have calmed down. 

Ao'nung walks up to him and cups his cheeks, drawing a surprised gasp from Neteyam. "You didn't do anything wrong. I should be the one to say sorry. I keep making fun of your smoothies."

Neteyam smiles gently, but his eyes shine with a sadness Ao'nung barely catches before Neteyam forces it away. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" Ao'nung asks quietly, leading them to sit down on Neteyam's bed.

Neteyam clenches his eyes shut and shakes his head. He tries to break free of Ao'nung's gentle embrace half-heartedly. 

A moment of silence passes over them before Neteyam clears his throat. "I'm just worried about my dad."

"Where is he?" Ao'nung asks quietly. 

"Out," he struggles with the correct words, his English failing him. They speak omaticayan na'vi dialect at home. It's vastly different to the metcayinan dialect. "A– a mission or what it's called. In a war zone."

Ao'nung nods in sympathy, smiling sadly at the boy in his arms. "He's going to be fine, my love. Your father flew Toruk Makto during the was of the spirit tree. He's gonna get through this too."

Ao'nung cannot imagine a world without Jake Sully in it to annoy his sons by hiding condoms in their bags or picking them up when they party too hard. He's certain nothing will happen. Maybe a few a broken bones.

Neteyam relaxes against him and Ao'nung is glad his words brought some form of comfort to Neteyam. 

 

---

 

That afternoon, Ao'nung brings Neteyam (and Lo'ak, but who's counting) home with him.

It's the twenty-second. 

Ronal is bouncing their baby sibling on her knee, wearing a glorious, floor-lenght skirt, when Ao'nung opens the front door and ushers the Sully boys inside.

Tonowari is sitting near Ronal, reading the newspaper. His hair is in a half-bun as always, the thick curls rushing down his strong back like a waterfall. Neteyam smiles. He always hides his tribal tattoos with turtle-necks or high collars, but this time, he's wearing a simple (but obviously high quality) T-shirt. The majestic swirls on his neck are in plain sight. They are a faded, deep grey colour. 

Neteyam wonders if Ao'nung will eventually get tattoos to honor his tradition like his parents did.

"Neteyam, Lo'ak," Tonowari smiles as he stands to greet them.

Neteyam thinks he looks even more enormous in comfortable, causal clothing. 

"I am glad you two could make it."

There is a Christmas tree  in their living room. The Sully's don't decorate, only give gifts. It is a little ironic, because Jake Sully is American, but neither Ronal nor Tonowari are. They're not even mixed.

"Wow!" Lo'ak exclaims, eyeing the tree. "That is so pretty. I didn't know you decorate."

"It was Tsireya's idea," Ronal replies shortly, eyeing the tree as well, only, she looks offended by it. 

They have a white tree, with golden ornaments and a string of popcorn. The tree is obviously fake. Neteyam can just picture Tonowari, the gentle giant, helping his tiny daughter put the topper on. Despite the gold, it looks simple and elegant in their pale living room. 

"Why would Tsireya want a Christmas tree?" Ao'nung snorts. It seems even he did not know about it. 

The girl appears at the top of the stairs in a deep red dress and high socks, no shoes. The added little white flower and butterfly pins to her hair. Neteyam thinks that she looks like a real princess. His baby brother is speechless. 

"It is for Lo'ak and Neteyam," Tsireya says, smiling so wide that Neteyam is certain is would hurt her cheeks if she did not stop. "Because their dad is American. What do you think? Is it too weird? I didn't like the green trees."

"Beautiful," Lo'ak replies.

Neteyam smirks; he isn't entirely sure that his brother was talking about the tree.

 

---

 

The two of them are lounging around in Ao'nung's room when Ao'nung suddenly remembers his plans.

He sits up and turns to face Neteyam. "Can I see your back?"

"My— my back?" Neteyam frowns, pulling back and hugging himself. "Why?" 

"I would like to," Ao'nung replies simply. "That's all."

"No." 

Ao'nung blinks in surprise. "Well, why not?" 

Neteyam worries his bottom lip with his teeth and promptly tucks his shirt in. "Because I don't want you to look at them."

"But I think they're stunning."

Neteyam blinks in surpirse this time, mouth hanging open. Ao'nung decides to be honest, brutally so. He hopes he doesn't offend Neteyam by doing so. 

"Neteyam, " Ao'nung whispers, shuffling closer until their knees touch. He takes Neteyam's hands in his, squeezing reassuringly. "I want to memorise every pattern on your skin like I have memorised the constellations of your freckles. I want them burned into my mind so I can see them when I close my eyes."

Neteyam swallows, looming nervous. He takes his hands back and — Ao'nung smiles at the way his fingers shake — reaches for the top button on his shirt. 

"I want to draw the same lines on my own back rather than filling it with traditional tattoos."

Neteyam falters. "You want to tattoo my vitiligo on you?"

Ao'nung nods helplessly. It feels a little stupid now that he's said it out loud. "Only the lines."

"Like the minimalistic black line tattoos?"

"Yes. Like those."

Neteyam frowns again. "But, Nung, your heritage is so much more important than—"

"Nothing is more important than you."

Notes:

Surprise bitches

Chapter 20: Salty

Summary:

didnt know what to write so i wrote smut
i sat on this part for 4 days lmfao

Notes:

Side note: my loak centered story with a side of aounete is now regularly being updated
Enjoy :^]

Neteyam stares at him, breathless. He's still holding on to the top button of his shirt, eyes wide and full of anxiety. Ao'nung thinks he looks ready to faint, but he doesn't let it show. Neteyam chews on his lower lip, cheeks feeling hot — not in a good way either. This blush is fierce and wild, ready to tear him apart.

Ao'nung is waiting patiently for him. He's ready to accept whatever way Neteyam is going to react. Good or bad. Ao'nung can handle it all. This isn't about him. This is about Neteyam and helping him accept his flaws — although, Ao'nung still does not think that this is a flaw.

Neteyam swallows down the lump in his throat and swiftly unbuttons the shirt. He hesitates for a moment, before he actually does take it off. Ao'nung can just tell that his fingers are cold, as they always are when he is scared.

Ao'nung watches him, face relaxed and open. Neteyam does not look at him. He stares off to the side, pale haze burning a hole into Ao'nung's pale blue walls. 

Only the snall patch of white skin on his hip is visible from here, as Ao'nung stands in front of him. His gaze trails down and gets caught up on the shiny little belly button piercing decorating Neteyam's caramel torso.

Eventually, Neteyam sighs softly and turns around, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Ao'nung has seen him without a shirt before — all of those times had been so different. They never let themselves linger on the marks decorating his body; Ao'nung still thinks they look a little like tiger stripes and he just knows Neteyam has them because of Jake Sully. 

It's interesting, because Neteyam barely inherited anything from Jake; even his face is a copy of his mother's (except for his thinner lips). The pale brown eyes belong to Neytiri, so does the flat, wide nose and the large lashes. But the marks — the vitiligo painting his back is Jake and the colours merge together to create the perfect mix of the two parents. Ao'nung wonders if perhaps Jake Sully is so pale because vitiligo has taken over his body — he doesn't even know if such a thing is possible. 

Ao'nung dares lift a hand, placing warm fingertips on the skin, trailing along the patterns like a new path to explore. Ao'nung has seen photos. He thinks Neteyam's patterns are a bit different – his are straighter and they seem to meet either in the middle or by his side. Tiger stripes is still the only way Ao'nung could describe them.  

He falls in love a little more as Neteyam lifts a hand and pulls his hair away, exposing the patch on his neck. He's seemed to have calmed down.

"Beautiful," he whispers into the silence and Neteyam tenses. 

For a moment, Ao'nung wonders if he messed up, but then Neteyam throws his head back and actually laughs. Ao'nung is mesmerised. Neteyam's laugh is full of relief and joy laces every syllable. He turns to face Ao'nung, tugging his shirt back on, but he leaves it unbuttoned. 

"Oh, Nung," he breathes out and wraps Ao'nung in a hug. "I'm sorry for being so difficult lately."

"It's okay, you're not difficult at all." He hugs Neteyam back, holding onto him tightly, afraid that he might disappear. "You're just human."

Neteyam nods, nuzzling closer. "I'm just— some things happened and I'm a little disappointed lately."

"You can tell me." Ao'nung pulls back, rubbing Neteyam's arms, meeting his gaze.

Neteyam looks away shyly, a blush dusting his cheek. Ao'nung boops his nose gently, making it twitch as Neteyam gasped, watching him in surprise. 

"You really can tell me," Ao'nung insists. "I won't tell anyone else."

Neteyam swallows down the lump in his throat and nods. He takes a deep, shaking breath, shoulders rising high before lowering slowly. "I got fired and I haven't told my father yet."

Ao'nung's brows furrowed. "Why would you get fired?"

Neteyam looks down, fiddling with his fingers. "I don't know. They never told me."

"Ah, man," Ao'nung sighs out, shaking his head. "That really sucks. They could have at least told you why."

Neteyam shrugs. He's kept it a secret long enough that it doesn't hurt as much as it did the first day he found out. "It's okay now. It's been a while." 

"Are you looking for a new job?" Ao'nung asks quietly. 

Neteyam bites his lip and averts his gaze again. "I kind of like how I have time for things now. I will have to though. I can't stay like this forever." 

Ao'nung doesn't like what he's hearing. He doesn't want Neteyam to be overwhelmed by work and school again. He wonders to what extend Neteyam did not have time. If he even has time for the million hobbies Ao'nung knows he keeps a secret. 

"Have you applied anywhere yet?" He asks instead. 

Neteyam nods slowly. "Haven't heard back yet. I think they don't like that I can't work full time."

Ao'nung sighs this time and shakes his head. "Or maybe they just found someone right before you."

Neteyam appreciates the little comment; he doesn't want to talk about this anymore, so he just buttons his shirt up and lies down, tugging Ao'nung with him. 

 

---

 

Ao'nung wraps his arms around Neteyam's waist, pulling him against him, closer, closer. Neteyam is staying the night and it is  already nine o' clock.
Neteyam is flushed with desire, wearing Ao'nung's deep green sweater with his own black sweatpants. He's got pure white socks this time, but he got them dirty by walking around without shoes.

Ao'nung grins, hands coming to grasp Neteyam's ass shamelessly, tugging him even closer.

"Ao'nung," Neteyam whined out, unashamed, sitting up in his lap, straddling him.

Ao'nung watched him, pupils blown wide. Ao'nung's gaze stayed on his lips before trailing lower over the rest of his body, lingering on his stomach and waist, hidden by the sweater. He slips his hands up, under the clothing, blunt nails grazing Neteyam's sides, making him squirm. "What is it, beautiful?"

Neteyam swallows thickly, biting his lower lip. He's overrun by desire for the surfer boy lying under him, grasping at his hips.

Ao'nung smirks at the soft blush dusting Neteyam's cheeks, unashamed at the bulge denting his own grey sweatpants. Neteyam slides up slightly, sitting right on him, now smirking himself. Ao'nung flushes, taking a shaky breath.

He lets Neteyam undress him, lifting his hips before he sits up, naked, and tugs his own sweater off the other's lithe form. Slowly, he pulls Neteyam's sweatpants down, nudging him to lie down so he can pull them off fully. Neteyam stretches out, lifting his arms above his head as Ao'nung tugs his boxers off, leaving him bare.

Ao'nung reaches down and takes his member in his hand, squeezing gently. Neteyam gasps, squirming.

Ao'nung leans over him, settling between his legs, his free hand grasping at Neteyam's thigh. Ao'nung keeps his eyes glued to Neteyam's face, unable to tear them away as the boy slowly takes his own fingers into his mouth and runs his tongue over them. 

Ao'nung's mind goes blank. All he can focus on is slowly moving his hand up and down Neteyam's shaft. He grasps Neteyam's thigh tightly, fingers digging into the toned flesh, making the dark-skinned male spread his legs further as he kneeled on his lap, gasping with each jerk of Ao'nung's hand. 

Neteyam runs his tongue over his fingers, tilting his head back to make sure Ao'nung can see the back of his throat. Ao'nung has to look away to regain some of his rapidly evaporating self-control. He peeks at Neteyam's mouth and shudders at the sight. Neteyam pulls his fingers out, trailing them down his chest, teasing himself before his hand disappears behind himself. Ao'nung swallows thickly.

Neteyam presses a finger into himself without hesitation, lips falling open in a moan. Ao'nung squeezes him again, making Neteyam curl forward and whine. He fingers himself in time with Ao'nung's hand on his cock, needy, head tilting back.

Ao'nung can only stare, heat coiling in his stomach, driving him mad as Neteyam slips another finger into himself, smirking down at him coyly, knowing exactly the effect he has on Ao'nung.

Neteyam fingers himself slowly, fingers moving in and out, stretching him open. Ao'nung's thumb ran over the tip of his erection, drawing a moan from Neteyam.

Neteyam closes his eyes, moaning softly as Ao'nung grabs his base, hand stilling. "Nung-"

Ao'nung lets him go with a teasing grin, lifting his arms to cross behind his head, watching Neteyam. Neteyam rolls his eyes, leaning forward slightly and pulling his fingers out, sliding down so he is face to face with Ao'nung's erection. Ao'nung's eyes widen in surprise as Neteyam takes him in his hand delicately, flicking his tongue over his lower lip.

Ao'nung inhales sharply as Neteyam parts his lips, taking his tip into his mouth, tongue running over it in a languid cirlce. The surfer grabs his pillow, stuffing it behind his head so he can see better. Neteyam pulls back, eyes half lidded and pupils blown so wide his eyes look black. His lips are shiny with spit and the muscles in his arms tense.

Ao'nung watches him.

Neteyam runs his tongue down the side of Ao'nung's member, blinking slowly, eyes unfocused as Ao'nung's own taste mingles on his tongue, a little salty, very unusual. This is the first time Neteyam has ever tried something like this.

Slowly, he takes the tip in his mouth again, sinking lower until his jaw feels stretched more than he can comfortably handle. He pulls back, slowly bobbing his head and pressing his tongue flat against the hot member in his mouth. Ao'nung whines low in throat.

Neteyam shifts his weight so he is lying face down on his stomach. He relaxes his throat (he researched this), sinking down until he feeks Ao'nung's member hit the back of his throat and his nose presses against the other male's stomach.
Ao'nung lets out another whine from above him, toes curling. He lies flat on his back, panting. He covers his mouth because Tsireya's room is right next to his and the walls aren't really that thick.

Neteyam swallows around him with only a little bit of struggle. He bobs his head, breathing heavily through his nose, brows furrowed in concentration. Ao'nung tangles his fingers in his hear, holding, but not pushing him down. 

Neteyam pulls off with a pop, breathing heavily, lips swollen and shiny, bright red. He swallows thickly and clears his throat, trying to catch his breath. He rests his forehead on Ao'nung's hip, panting quielty, one hand gripping the base of the other's member. 

"Tired, baby?" Ao'nung grins, chest heaving.

Neteyam lifts his head, peeking up at him. "No."

"Come on," Ao'nung hums, nudging him. He sits up slightly and grabs Neteyam by the hips, positioning him so he's lying with his feet by Ao'nung's head. 

Neteyam blinks in surprise before flicking his tongue over his lower lip, eyes falling to Ao'nung's member, that he is still grasping. His hips are right next to Ao'nung face, and the surfer smirks, reaching out to grasp him. Neteyam swallows thickly before leaning back down and taking Ao'nung's member in his mouth again, the angle just a little awkward.

Ao'nung strokes him a few times before slipping his fingers lower, slick with Neteyam's precum. Neteyam spreads his legs a little, bobbing his head slowly, eyes clenched shut. Ao'nung traces Neteyam's entrance with one of his fingertips, teasing him, before slowly pushing it inside, bumping it slowly. He knows it drives Neteyam mad, because the stretch is barely even there.

Neteyam whines around him, pulling off to take a deep breath before sinking down again, letting the tip of Ao'nung's member hit the back of his throat. Ao'nung twitches, trying his harder to keep from bucking his hips.

Slowly, he pulls his finger back enough to be able to slip another one inside, smirking when Neteyam stills, having to take a moment before moving his head again. He's getting a bit messy, cheeks smeared with precum and spit.

Ao'nung curls his fingers, pressing firm fingertips against Neteyam prostate, assaulting the little bundle of nerves and making Neteyam moan loudly. 

Neteyam's shoulders ache from the position he is in, but he cannot bring himself to care; he can taste the saltiness off Ao'nung's arousal on his tongue. The taste drives him mad, he wants more.

He pulls off, rubbing his tongue over Ao'nung's tip, coaxing more precum. He runs his tongue down the side of his erection, biting gently. Ao'nung gasps, eyes widening.

"Do that again-" he breathes out as he picks up the pace of his fingers, fucking Neteyam with his hand.

Neteyam flicks his tongue against a vein before grazing the tender skin with his teeth again. Ao'nung groans, head falling back. He stretches his fingers out before easily slipping a third inside. He isn't ready to take Neteyam in his own mouth just yet, even if his erection is right in front of his face. It scares him a little, so he focuses on hitting Neteyam's prostate with each drag of his fingers.

Neteyam shivers, parting his lips again and letting Ao'nung's cock slip back into his mouth, nose pressing into his stomach as he takes it all in - Ao'nung is speechless not only from the pleasure, but because Neteyam is good at this too, much like everything else.

Ao'nung can feel his pleasure building up rapidly as Neteyam begins bobbing his head faster. "Tey- Teyam, I'm close."

Neteyam doesn't stop. When Ao'nung tries to pull him off by his hair, he swats at his hand and pulls back so only his tip is in his mouth, letting Ao'nung's release coat his tongue. The taste is strange and the texture is not like anything he's ever encountered before.

Ao'nung drags his fingers in and out of Neteyam lazily, blissed out and panting.

Neteyam pulls of slowly, shutting his mouth quickly. He doesn't swallow just yet - cheeks red and eyes glossy.

Ao'nung glances down at him, eyes lingering on his lips. Neteyam winks at him, before tilting his head back a little and sticking his tongue out. Ao'nung inhales sharply, fingers stilling as he stares at Neteyam, gaping like a fish out of water. Ao'nung's unmoving fingers press directly against his prostate, sending little shocks of pleasure up his spine as he shifts his hips slightly, chasing pleasure.

Neteyam flinches when some of Ao'nung's release slips from his tongue, dripping down his chin. He closes his mouth quickly and wipes at his lips with the back of his hand. He swallows carefully before he closes his eyes and rests his cheek against the surfer's hip, panting softly.

Ao'nung pulls his fingers out, sneaking a peek at the gaping ring of muscles of Neteyam's hole before slowly sitting, making Neteyam lifts his head. He grabs Neteyam by the back of his neck and pulls him up for a salty kiss. Neteyam melts into it, hands coming to graps Ao'nung's shoulders.

Ao'nung pulls back, bumping their noses together.

"Hey-" Neteyam protests weakly with a soft, raspy laugh.

Ao'nung places his hands on Neteyam's inner thighs, leaning closer to catch his lips in another a kiss. Neteyam bits his lover's lower lip, tugging on it playfully.

Ao'nung rubs his hands over Neteyam's waist, grabbing him and pulling him closer, almost into his lap, before pushing Neteyam down on his back, settling between his legs. Neteyam lets him, holding his hips with a loose grip, tugging him closer.

Ao'nung is hard again, his member rubs against Neteyam's stomach as he presses their hips flush against each other. Neteyam's eyes flutter shut, his breath stolen; Ao'nung fumbles around, trying to locate the little bottle of lube lost somewhere in the sheets. Neteyam, eyes still closed, laughs at him, nose twitching.

"Shush, before I just take you raw," Ao'nung warns, biting back a laugh of his own.

Neteyam stares up at him, tilting his head with a smirk. He raises a brow and reaches back to slap Ao'nung's ass. The surfer jumps slightly in surprise. "So, do it. Think of it as one of your christmas gifts."

Ao'nung pauses, blinking dumbly. "Huh?"

Neteyam chuckles, letting his legs fall open further as he pulls Ao'nung down in a kiss. "I only ever felt you like that drunk and I can't remember it that well."

"You don't want to wear a condom?" Ao'nung asks carefully, unsure if he's hearing things right.

Neteyam nods once, and he suddenly looks nervous. "But if you want to, we can-"

Ao'nung kisses him hurriedly. He lowers himself, reaching between their bodies to line himself up against Neteyam's entrance, rubbing his tip against his rim, teasing and smearing his precum there. Ao'nung is so wet by himself, they don't even really need the lube. Neteyam is panting, rock hard and needy. 

With one hand, Ao'nung grips himself, making sure he's lined up against Neteyam's entrance properly. Neteyam swallows thickly, staring up into Ao'nung's eyes as he presses the tip in, leaning back to watch his shaft disappear into Neteyam's body.

Neteyam shudders at the stretch, lips falling open in  a loud moan - he covers his mouth quickly, turning his head to the side. His eyes land on Ao'nung's bedside table, trailing to the clock there. It is almost half past ten in the evening.

Ao'nung inhales sharply as Neteyam grabs him by the hips and tugs. He yerks his hips forward into Neteyam, watching the other's head fall back, lips parted in a silent gasp as he pushes in to the hilt. Neteyam clenches around him on purpose, making Ao'nung let out a loud moan of his own. Ao'nung snapped his hips forward with so much force, Neteyam had to bite his fist to keep quiet.

"Ao'nung –" He whimpers, voice deep and raspy, throat raw. Whatever he wants to say slips his mind, dying on the tip of tongue as Ao'nung slams into him again and again, hitting his prostate dead on. Ao'nung does not stop the relentless snaps of his hips into the willing body under him as he leans down, pressing kisses to the side of Neteyam's throat. He parts his lips, sucking the skin into his mouth, leaving a blossoming bruise behind when he pulls off.

Ao'nung grasps at his hips, keeping him in place as slams into his body. Neteyam's eyes are glossed over from the pleasure, unfocused. He wraps a hand around himself, bumping hurriedly, chasing his orgasm.

Ao'nung gets a little louder, biting his lower lip but even so he cannot keep quiet and neither can the archer under him. Neteyam's legs shake, thighs burning as he wraps his legs around Ao'nung hips, pleasure bursting in his core, sending tingles along his body. He's dripping onto his own stomach, flushed all the way to his chest.

The surfer presses into the smaller body repeatedly, rocking Neteyam forward with each thrust, drawing moan after moan as he slams into his prostate. He covers Neteyam's mouth with one of his hands, the other slipping down to grasp at his ass.

Neteyam gasps, throat dry. He feels so hot, like he's on the actual sun.

His eyes roll back as Ao'nung pounds into him mercilessly, just how he likes it. Neteyam's orgasm hits him like a wild force, pouring over him like a waterfall of pleasure. His toes curl and he whines against Ao'nung palm. Ao'nung fucks him through it, though his own legs burn with the speed of his movements. Neteyam spills onto his own stomach, some of it slipping down his side and smearing Ao'nung's sheets.

Ao'nung's orgasm washes over him moments later, hips not stilling even for a second as he fills Neteyam with his release, painting his walls in the warm fluid, pressing in as deep as he can go to make sure it would not be so easy to wash away - he wants Neteyam to feel him for days.

He collapses onto the smaller male's chest, hands coming to wrap around the other's shoulders, holding him close as he catches his breath, utterly blissed out. After a minute, Neteyam nudges him, urging him to pull out.

Once he does, he smirks, sitting back to stare right between Neteyam's legs, watching him twitch. Ao'nung's cum spills out of him slowly, sliding down and staining his sheets. He knows he won't be letting his mother wash them this time. 

Neteyam closes his legs shyly, averting his gaze. Ao'nung lets him hide behind his hair, still panting. "How are you?"

"I can't feel my legs-" Neteyam wheezes out. He reaches down and presses two fingers into himself.

Ao'nung almost chokes. "What are you doing?"

Neteyam moans softly, one arm wrapped around his legs to keep them up. Ao'nung can see the way the fingers disappear into his body with no resistance, slick and loose. Neteyam pulls them out, inspecting the shiny, pale liquid coating them.

Ao'nung bites the inside of his cheek, sitting there dumbly.

"Just checking out what you did to me, Nung."

"Oh, Great Mother."

 

Notes:

Made a Spotify playlist with my neteyams fave songs 🎵
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6NIcmVf7faGGvLE3QixzUo?si=ywXeVZLFTOepvuW0q7FQQQ&app_destination=copy-link
Ooor:
Ntym — applemints
Do we want more playlists for the others?

Chapter 21: Little Brother

Summary:

Not me making a food highlight on Instagram instead of studying 🙃 🤪

Notes:

Going through some writers block lmao and I'm stalling on the Jake conflict
Solution? Embarass Ao'nung, then embarass Lo'ak
Then add softness

Ao'nung falls down  a rabbit hole; it is huge.

He wanted to get to know Neteyam's favourite artists - the Korean ones. Now he's spent four hours in bed listening to all these songs and making a playlist to play at their next date (not the one he plans at the cafe though).

His brain feels fried out of his brain from all the colourful videos he's watched and now he understands why Neteyam likes this kind of music. He also thinks the language sounds nice. 

It suits Neteyam more than German does — at least, this is what Ao'nung thinks. 

Ao'nung eyes the little seashell necklace Neteyam had made him for Christmas. The shells are white with a teal bead between all of them, held together by a black leather string. 

It suits the shark tooth necklace Ao'nung already has. 

 

---

Ao'nung finds himself back in school, much to his greatest annoyance. The winters don't get too cold here, but swimming practise out in the open in January is still traumatising. 

Tsireya doesn't mind them. 

Lo'ak comes to watch her much too often for Ao'nung's liking. This is how the two of them end up sitting next to each other on the bleachers. Ao'nung is chewing aggressively on a piece of extra minty gum, wrapped in his fat towel and fluffy bathing robe. Toes red from the cold. 

Tsireya has practice before him with the girls' team, and they're running a little late. 

Rotxo is down by the pool, chattering with Kiri. 

"So," Lo'ak begins suddenly and he has that annoying glint in his eyes that shows he's about to become a living menace. He nudges Ao'nung with his elbow. "I hear you gave in to the temptation, fruit loops."

"Fruit loops?!" Ao'nung hisses, squearing his shoulders. "What on Earth are you talking about, idiot?"

Lo'ak snorts, cheeks red. "You've got fruit in your cup."

"Oh?" Ao'nung smirks, leaning closer. "If I've got fruit in my cup, you're a literal fucking fruit basket, twig legs."

Lo'ak reels back, surprised. "Me?!"

Ao'nung shrugs carelessly, turning back to watch his baby sister absolutely outswim the entire team in a mock-race. The coach isn't even surprised, clapping weakly, lips down-turned. 

Ao'nung ignores Lo'ak's offended squeaks in favour of listening to what the man has to say, because it will likely apply to his own team. 

"Come on, girls!" He blows into his whistle. "We have competition in two weeks. I need you gals to try a little harder." 

He lists their flaws — never once using Tsireya as example in favour of keeping the peace between the ladies. Only once they start heading back to the changing rooms does he crouch down to mumble something to the girl. 

It makes her light up like fireworks on a midnight sky and she leaves the pools with a new bounce in her steps, tugging off her swimming cap, letting her dampened hair flair as she waves to Lo'ak and Ao'nung,  disappearing inside.

Lo'ak, distracted for a moment, lets his guard fall before Ao'nung promptly pushes it back up. 

"I know about your old crush on Rotxo."

Lo'ak freezes, wide eyed. "What did you just say?"

Ao'nung hums, raising his shoulders before letting them drop down again. "Back when you were 14."

Lo'ak furrows his brows and tenses, ready to fight before Ao'nung rolls his eyes and grasps his upper arm gently. He leans closer — ignoring the coach blowing his whistle— and whispering to Lo'ak. 

"I don't care," Ao'nung mutters. "But next time you try to embarrass me, just remember that I can do the same to you."

Lo'ak lets out a choked noise as Ao'nung tugs him in a one-armed hug, patting his back. "Ao'nung—"

Ao'nung feels a little cruel; he wasn't trying to hurt the younger Sully, but he also does not enjoy the way Lo'ak is all up in his private matters. Ao'nung doesn't care that Neteyam confides in his little brother about his sex life, he just doesn't want Lo'ak to tell him about it.

"It was cute," he says quietly as he pulls back. "I only realised years later, after you started being move obvious about Tsireya."

Lo'ak looks down, fiddling with his fingers. "Please, don't tell anyone."

The coach whistles again, more aggressively. "Ao'nung! Get your ass here, boy. Everyone is waiting for you."

Ao'nung rolls his eyes and lifts his arm. "Give me a moment, please, coach. This is important."

"Can't it wait?" The man grits out, standing with his hands on his hips. 

Ao'nung is firm (he's learnt it from his father). "Sorry, coach. It's urgent."

The coach sighs, nodding. "Try to hurry, we have competition in two weeks and you haven't had practice since before Christmas."

Ao'nung turns back to Lo'ak, who is watching him with his mouth hanging open. "Quit gaping like a fish, baby Sully."

"I'm not," Lo'ak grumbles, swatting at him weakly. "What do you want?"

The surfer sighs and pats his shoulder, leaning down to be at eye level with Lo'ak. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing—" 

"Come on, lil guy," Ao'nung chides gently. "Why are you embarrassed about this? It's been five years."

Lo'ak remains tight lipped, avoiding Ao'nung's eyes like his life depended on it. He probably felt like it did.

Ao’nung tilts his head before simply wrapping the affronted youth in his arms, cradling the back of his head. He has a feeling he knows what this is about. He doesn't pry further. 

"If you need someone," Ao'nung begins, voice tender, much the same as when he comforts Tsireya. "You can come to me, Lo'ak. Okay?"

Lo'ak finally wraps his arms around Ao'nung's middle, clutching his bathing robe. Ao'nung notices the coach glance their way in worry before turning back to the rest of their team.

"Thank you."

---

 

Ao'nung is lounging in his dormroom when there is a soft knock on his door, startling him out of dozing-off. 

"Yeah?"

The door opens softly and Neteyam pokes his head inside. "Hey. You alone?"

Ao'nung sits up, loose hair falling down in ringlets. "Yeah. Did you miss me?"

Neteyam rolls his eyes playfully and steps inside, shutting the door silently before coming to sit next to Ao'nung, reaching up immediately to fiddle with his curls, enjoying one of the rare moments when Ao'nung has his hair completely unbraided.

Ao'nung steals a sweet little kiss, smiling at the way Neteyam's nose scrunches. 

"I wanted to thank you," Neteyam murmurs tenderly, placing a hand against Ao'nung's cheek, caressing him. "For comforting Lo'ak."

"He's told you?" 

Neteyam bites his lip when Ao'nung nuzzles into his palm, touching his lips to the paler skin of the inside of his lover's hand. 

"Yeah," Neteyam says softly. "You know, you really surprised him. He did genuinely think you hated him for years."

Ao'nung frowns, taking Neteyam's wrist gently, bringing his hand down from his cheek. "I didn't. He's just annoying in the little brother way."

Neteyam laughs softly and shakes his head. "You're the exact same but you're not a younger sibling to anyone."

"I've got five older cousins," Ao'nung deadpans. "That are male."

Neteyam blinks in surprise. "Oh? I see. Hey, Nung. When dad comes back, the whole family's gonna have a get together, partners and all. Do you want to come meet the rest of my family?"

Ao'nung tilts his head. "Oh, sure. Who will be there?" 

"Mom's sister and her husband," Neteyam begins, counting on his fingers. Ao'nung bites back a coo at the sight. "Grandmother, too and my uncle on my dad's side."

Ao'nung listens to him, trying to imagine how all these people would look, but he has no idea. 

Neteyam falls in love with Ao'nung more every time he shows his kinder side to someone he is usually rough with. 

He remembers the time, years ago, when Rotxo stepped on a shard of broken glass on the beach and Ao'nung had been the first to hurry to his side, lifting his easily from the water, uncaring if he would step on the glass himself.  

Neteyam remembers the way Ao'nung had shouted for the lifeguard to make sure nobody comes to the area before promptly carrying his childhood friend to get his foot stitched up by a medic. 

Neteyam remembers when they were still in high-school and Kiri had doubled over, clutching her stomach as cramps wrecked her body. 

It had been just the three of them in the classroom during break. 

Neteyam, unsure what to do, was only patting Kiri’s back, but Ao'nung simply walked to his own bag, rummaging before returning, handing Kiria bottle of water and a sheet of pills. Neteyam had recognised the pills to be the same, specifically intended for women, pain medicine that his own mother took. 

"Do you have anything?" Ao'nung had asked, not a hint of embarrassment on his face. 

Kiri sighed, forehead sweaty. "No. I wasn't expecting this." 

Ao'nung merely tilted his head at her words and gave a short nod, returning to his bag. Kiri had watched him, dumbfounded as he pulled out what appeared to be simple black tights and walked back. He held them out to Kiri and only then did Neteyam notice he had skillfully hidden a pad and a tampon in the fabric. 

"I have them for Tsireya." He had shrugged casually before sauntering outside to the halls to muck around with the rest of the boys.

Kiri had been frozen in surprise for a second before she turned to Neteyam. "Can you walk with me to the bathroom?"

"Sure." 

Notes:

*drops mic*
Loak has two big bros now

Chapter 22: Tsu'tey's Wine

Summary:

Sorry for the delay
I got absolutely neutered by my period
Istg I couldn't stand I was in so much pain 😩 and nausea and not to mention my limbs were numb
Gotta love a good dose of endometriosis lmfao

Ao'nung expected there to be a lot of people, but he certainly did not expect so many. 

Jake Sully had returned some days ago (much to Ao'nung's displeasure). He didn't get to spend as much time with Neteyam as before, because the boy's father had a broken leg and he was stuck in a wheelchair for a while. 

Both of the Sully boys had skipped a week of university lectures in favour of helping their father out. 

When Ao'nung arrived with Tsireya, it was Neytiri who opened the door, greeting them happily and ushering them inside. 

Silence falls over the room as the metcayinan young adults step inside before someone let's out a soft coo. The man is identical to Jake Sully, but his hair is short and neat, obviously a marine himself. Ao'nung immediately knows that he is the uncle Neteyam had mentioned. The man has the same twinkle in his eyes that Lo'ak always gets when he's up to no good.

"Hey, bro, your sons chose pretty foreigners to date, just like you," Tom laughs, and though he phrased it a little weird, Ao'nung knows he means no harm, he can hear it in his voice.

Jake Sully only rolls his eyes playfully, taking a sip of his beer. He's sitting a wheelchair and his leg is in a cast. "Whatever you say, Tommy."

Tsireya is smiling brightly, but Ao'nung knows she's nervous. Her eyes are searching for Lo'ak, but neither of the Sully boys are anywhere to be seen. 

"I will get them," Neytiri reassures them, placing a gentle hand on Tsireya's shoulder. "The boys can introduce you guys in a moment."

Tuktirey is wrapped up in an older woman's embrace, giggling loudly, holding a new, unopened toy. It's awfully pink and almost the size of the child herself.

Ao'nung can see a couple sitting on the sofa, about Neytiri’s age and their skin tone is the most amazing brown Ao'nung has ever seen. He thinks they look powerful. The woman, especially, looks a lot like the old woman holding Tuktirey. 

Ao'nung wants to wait for Neteyam, but Jake's brother is already bouncing up to him and his sister, a silly little grin on his face.

Neytiri leaves to the kitchen to fetch her sons. 

"You guys must be Tsireya and Ao'nung," he says brightly and holds his hand out.

Ao'nung is the first to shake it. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Tom bursts into a fit of giggles alongside his twin brother and shakes his head. "Tommy is fine."

Ao'nung doesn't pay attention to Tom and Tsireya's light conversation because he is distracted by a familiar face. Kiri is there with her mother and two more men who Ao'nung doesn't know. He waves to her and she returns it, but she doesn't come over.

Just then, Neytiri returns with an excited Lo'ak following her. He scurries to Tsireya, wrapping an arm around her shoulder proudly. 

Neteyam steps out of the kitchen a moment later and Ao'nung's world stops. The dark-skinned boy is decked head to toe in tradition jewelery. There are beads added to his braids and he's got a feather in his hair, behind his ear. Neteyam is wearing many necklaces, deep brown beaded ones with the occasional splash of orange or teal. He has a couple of similar bracelets and Ao'nung nearly faints when he catches sight of the string of beads adorning one of his ankles. 

Neteyam walks up to him, smiling shyly and tugging on his clothes, adjusting the way his shirt is tucked into his dress pants. He isn't wearing shoes, only white ankle socks.

Ao'nung is still gaping like a fish until he hears laughter. Neteyam is blushing as he side eyes his family, lips pursed. It's mainly Tommy, Kiri and her mother, Grace, who are giggling the most — the two strangers with Kiri are also laughing. 

Jake Sully is the first to speak, lifting the beer in his hand. "Alright, everyone! Introductions are in order. Our star guests have arrived."

Ao'nung is annoyed at having been caught ogling Neteyam, but the annoyance vanishes the moment Neteyam takes his hand and leads him further into the house, tugging him to the dining table which had been moved to the living room for the occasion. 

"I want to introduce you to everyone, Nungie," Neteyam whispers in his ear and though the people around them are chattering softly, Ao'nung can still feel curious stares burning into his back as he stands, facing Neteyam. 

"Okay."

Neteyam smiles, amused. He leans up and presses a gentle kiss to Ao'nung's cheek, almost grazing the corner of his mouth before taking his hand again and turning him around. "Everyone, this is Ao'nung. He's my— he's my boyfriend."

Ao'nung relaxes as Neteyam stutters, biting his lip shyly. Ao'nung knows he seeks the approval of his extended family as much as he seeks the approval of Jake Sully, so he straightens his back and puts on his kindest smile, greeting everyone. 

"It's nice to me you all."

Neteyam gestures to the oldest person in the room, starting with her out of respect. "This is my grandmother, Mo'at."

The older woman stands, patting Tuktirey's braided head before coming over, back a little hunched, but otherwise firm on her feet. She is also covered in traditional jewellery.

"Ao'nung." Mo'at eyes their intervened fingers before staring into his eyes. He waits for her to hold her hand out (he knows a proper handshake between two genders must always be initiated by the woman). She never does, instead she raises her hand to her forehead before bringing it down in a smooth movement.

Ao'nung returns the gesture. "I see you, Mo'at."

The woman nods on approval before turning back to Neteyam. "Good choice."

Sniggers break out across the room before Neteyam quickly steals the spotlight again, moving along and introducing Ao'nung to the rest of the people there. Neteyam gestures to the dark-skinned couple on the sofa and introduces them as Tsu'tey and Sylwanin, his uncle and aunt on his mother's side. 

Eventually, it is Lo'ak's turn to introduce Tsireya. Ao'nung watches the scene curiously, noticing how his little sister is quick to greet Mo'at in a traditional way, even bowing her head a little. Mo'at is impressed. She mumbles something about Lo'ak being a handful and wishing Tsireya luck — the youngest Sully brother protests weakly but after a sharp look from his grandmother, he scowls and moves Tsireya along to the rest of his family. 

Neteyam guides Ao'nung to sit at the table with him and hands him a glass of something that smells way too strong to be of Neteyam's taste. 

"What is this?" Ao'nung asks quietly, sniffing the deep, red liquid.

Neteyam grins, bunny teeth hanging over his lower lip as his nose scrunches. "Tsu'tey makes wine back home from the special grapes of the forest. You should try it. It's really strong." 

"Has anyone else been drinking?" Ao'nung eyes the glass, curiosity spiking. 

"Dad has. He's sticking to beer though cause he has to take pain medicine later." Neteyam explains softly and takes another glass from the centre of the table. "But if you are worried, I will drink with you."

Ao'nung hesitates.  "Nobody else has been drinking?"

Neteyam tilts his head at his party boy, smiling softly. He places a hand on Ao'nung's wrist gently and squeezes in reassurance. "They will soon. I just want you to loosen up a little."

"You're not offering Tsireya a drink—" Ao'nung frowns, placing the glass down.

Neteyam purses his lips. "Nungie, look. She's just fine. Mom and Sylwanin are obsessed with her."

Ao'nung sighs in defeat. It is true, Tsireya is not at all struggling to mingle with the rest of the Sully Family and their friends. He feels a little jealous, because Ao'nung has barely even spoken to Jake Sully. He doesn't know what to say to the man — he's honestly a little peeved that he places so much pressure on Neteyam. 

"Fine," Ao'nung grumbles eventually and relaxes his shoulders. He lifts the beautiful wineglass to his lips and watches as Neteyam pours himself some too. 

Ao'nung blinks, surprise coursing through his veins. The wine is better than anything he's ever tasted. "Wow–" 

"I know," Neteyam smirks coyly, lifting the glass to his lips. He winks, before slowly drinking the entire thing.

Ao'nung chokes, eyes wide. He glances around to see if anyone else saw them and his eyes lock with Lo'ak's. The youngest Sully boy grins, wiggling his dark brows before turning back to his conversation with Tsu'tey and Tom. 

"Baby–" Ao'nung whines quietly. "You're not supposed to drink wine like that."

"I don't really find myself caring how it's supposed to be done." Neteyam shrugs, setting his empty glass down. He leans closer to whisper in Ao'nung's ear. "I need to distract myself, Nung, because you look so good in that shirt that I'm struggling to not tear it right off of you."

Ao'nung gulps.

"With my teeth."

---

As evening rolls around, everyone is slowly getting drunk (except the designated drivers). Neteyam is mingling effortlessly with his uncles, dragging Ao'nung along with him and sharing fun memories the two had together. 

Lo'ak is absolutely plastered. He thought he could handle the wine and a few secret shots of vodka he snuck in the kitchen with Kiri and Tom — he was wrong. 

Neteyam had stared him down so hard, even Ao'nung was contemplating falling to his knees and begging for forgiveness. 

Jake Sully eyes his youngest son wearily as he stumbles about the living room, chattering mainly with Tommy and Tsireya, occasionally with Max and Norm. 

Ao'nung frowns when he notices the dynamics in the family. Aside from Tom, everyone seems more drawn to Neteyam, sometimes even outright ignoring Lo'ak. Reluctantly, Ao'nung accepts that he cannot do anything about this. 

Tuktirey is the star of the night, everyone loves her and everyone brought her gifts. She's showing them off to Neytiri proudly when Lo'ak sighs softly and slips out of sight, disappearing upstairs by himself. 

Tsireya is little tipsy; she's been snatched up by Grace and Sylwanin. The two older women are very interested in her culture, asking questions and sharing their own experiences in return. She seems to he enjoying herself, so Ao'nung does not worry about her.

He worries about Lo'ak however. Especially when nobody seems to notice that he's no longer in the living.

Ao'nung wonders if something had happened or of this was simply an accident. 

Neteyam is chatting with his grandmother when Ao'nung kneels down beside him. "Sorry to disturb. I'm going to go upstairs for a moment, but I'll be back soon."

"Okay, Nung," Neteyam smiles tenderly. "Do you need anything?"

"No, it's alright," Ao'nung says quickly. "I just have a little headache."

He disappears upstairs and immediately goes to knock on Lo'ak's door — he does not, however, wait for an answer before barging in.

Lo'ak yelps, stumbling back a bit as he scurries to sit up in his bed. "What are you doing here?!"

Ao'nung sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He has questions, but he knows even though Lo'ak is drunk, he needs to be careful when asking them.  "I cake to make sure you didn't die, like last time when you nearly strangled yourself in a bush."

"Oh," Lo'ak breathes out softly, relaxing his shoulders. "Wanna sit?"

Ao'nung nods, plopping down next to the smaller male. Something protective stirs in his chest when he notices just how sad those pale brown eyes are. They're a little red too, so is Lo'ak's nose. 

Ao'nung decides to try and find some answers. He doesn't look at Lo'ak when he next speaks, instead, pretending to scroll social media. "You feeling good? You look like you're about to pass out."

Lo'ak purses his lips — Ao'nung can clearly see the brave face he's trying to put on. It would have worked, but he's not in the right state of mind right now and it puts Ao'nung at an advantage. 

Lo'ak closes his eyes and places a hand on his forehead, breathing out slowly. "I'm tired."

"You should take a nap." 

"No, I mean—" Lo'ak begins again, rubbing at his eyes. He pulls his knees up to his chest. "I'm so tired of always being in his shadow."

Ao'nung waits a breath before placing a comforting hand on Lo'ak's shoulder. "Who are you talking about?"

Lo'ak seems to forget Ao'nung is even there. He lifts a hand to his lips and starts worrying the skin by his nails on his little finger. He bites down a little too hard and flinches. 

Ao'nung lets his hand fall back to his side. Warm patience fills him and suddenly he feels like he's looking at a fourteen year old Lo'ak again. 

"Neteyam," Lo'ak sighs out. He looks sleepy and so so young it nearly breaks Ao'nung's heart. "He's so good at everything. Everyone loves him."

"Who's everyone, Lo'ak?"

The dam breaks and it makes Ao'nung panic. Lo'ak slumps forwards and lets out a choked, held back sob. Ao'nung wonders if he always cries so quietly to make sure nobody hears him.

"Everyone," he repeats in a soft voice. "Dad, mom, grandma— grandma, she—"

Ao'nung takes a deep breath and tugs Lo'ak into his arms, patting his head gently. Lo'ak clings to him like a little koala, hiding his face in the crook of Ao'nung's neck, fists tangling in his shirt. 

Ao'nung doesn't care that there will be awkward wrinkles in the fabric.

"We don't have to talk about it," he says quietly, rocking them back and forth. 

Lo'ak nods silently, shoulders shaking but he doesn't make a single sound. 

Ao'nung feels sick to his stomach. He doesn't know if he can solve this.

Notes:

Imagined loak at a very lively, happy family gathering and then remembered when he said his whole clan hates him and then this happened

Chapter 23: Family Trip

Summary:

Camping in January?
Sure

Notes:

Yall seemed to like everyone's appearance in the last part so imma feed yall with more Tom, Tsu'tey and Sylwanin content

Neteyam opens to door to his brother's room quietly and smiles gently, eyes landing on the two sleeping bundles. 

Lo'ak as completely bundled around Ao'nung, mouth open and cheek squished against his shoulder. Ao'nung has a lazy arm dropped over the smaller male's middle, but his hand hangs limply behind his back, not touching him.

Neteyam closes the door silently and walks to the bed, settling down on his brother's other side and curling around him, pressing his nose into Lo'ak's soft braids, nuzzling him. 

He tugs a stray blanket over himself.

Lo'ak wiggles around to face him and blinks his eyes open blearily, nose scrunching as he tries to figure out what's going on.

"Where's Tsireya?" He whispers, face flushing when he notices Ao'nung on his other side.

Neteyam places a hand on his brother's warm cheek, caressing gently. "Mom helped her settle down in my room."

Lo'ak nods, still a bit tipsy and out of it. Neteyam can clearly tell he's been crying, but he won't mention it — he knows what brought it on. 

Neteyam holds Lo'ak close, letting him fall asleep in his arms. 

 

---

Neteyam wakes up to blinding light flashing in his face and a startled yelp. Immediately, his eyes hurt and he can feel a headache forming. 

Someone starts laughing loudly, then another person joins the noise. It's his dad and uncle. 

"Tommy, come on!" Jake wheezes out, leg propped up as he sits in his wheelchair. "You woke them up! Did you really forget your flash?"

"Be quiet," Tom laughs along with him, phone in hand. He no longer tries to be sneaky about it, snapping a photo as Neteyam hides his face in his brother's neck.

Lo'ak clenches his eyes shut, trying to ignore the noise in favour of sleeping more. It is a useless fight. There is nothing he can do to drown out his father's and uncle's wheezy giggles. 

Ao'nung groans quietly against the back of Lo'ak's neck, hot puffs of air tickling the skin uncomfortably. Lo'ak tries to shuffle away, but he's sandwiched between the two taller males with no way out. 

Jake Sully is still giggling, slapping his good knee in amusement. He shares a look with Tom.

Neteyam rolls his eyes. 

This is where Lo'ak got his tendency of being a menace from.

"Look at them—" Tom bursts into a fit of laughter again, taking a million, blurry photos. He finally turns of his flash. "They're so cute."

Jake agrees, a fond smile on his face. "Is it still a Sully sandwich if Ao'nung isn't in the middle?"

"They're actually three little peas in a pod," a feminine voice calls from the voice. 

Neteyam raises his head and smiles at his aunt. "Good morning, aunty."

Sylwanin smiles back, leaning against the doorframe. "Morning boys. We're thinking about a camping trip today. The weather is wonderful down south."

Ao'nung slowly untangles himself from around the brothers, sitting up and scooting away. He makes a move to get out of bed and pack his stuff, but Lo'ak grabs his arms. "Are the side hoes coming?"

Neteyam snorts, covering his mouth with a delicate hand. Ao'nung looks down at Lo'ak, offended. He sneers in annoyance only to get wacked in the face with a pillow. Neteyam smirks. 

Jake shrugs, taking his brother's phone to look at the photos. "If they want. There's space in the car."

"Sweet," Lo'ak grins, jumping out of bed.

Neteyam yanks at the bedsheets at the last moment, grinning as Lo'ak's foot gets stuck and he tumbles out of bed face first, plummeting to the ground with a loud hiss. "Bro!"

Sylwanin slips away with Tom, laughing among themselves as they join Tsu'tey and Mo'at downstairs for breakfast. 

Neteyam sits up, braids an absolute mess. He helps Lo'ak stand, ignoring the way his little brother squeezes his hand a little more than he should as revenge. 

Ao'nung yawns, stretching his arms above his head. 

"Do you need help, dad?" Neteyam asks gently, coming to stand beside his father.

Jake flashes him a grateful look. "I do need to get downstairs somehow."

Lo'ak joins them and Ao'nung offers to help carry Jake Sully downstairs, but they wave him off, saying he's a guest. 

"Ah, this is the last time I'm coming up here while I can't walk—" Jake yelps as Lo'ak almost drops him. They're halfway down the stairs. Tsu'tey joins them in helping Jake down. 

Tom continues snapping pictures. 

Ao'nung decides to go see of Tsireya is still in Neteyam's room. He finds her there and nudges her awake. She blinks sleepily up at him before blushing. 

"Sorry evicting you guys from Neteyam's room–" 

Ao'nung waves her off. "No, it's okay. We were with Lo'ak. It's better that way anyway."

Tsireya raises a neat brow and rolls her eyes. "As if you could stop that from happening."

Ao'nung frowns. "Did it?"

Tsireya sits up and chuckles softly. "No, of course not. I told you, Lo'ak is very traditional."

The two of them crowd the bathroom together, washing their faces one after the other. Tsireya curls her eyelashes — something Ao'nung will never understand — as her brother fixes his hair into its usual bun. 

Downstairs, the living room is full of life.

Tuktirey is showing of new dance she's learnt during her latest ballet class to their grandmother, who stares at the girl absolutely bewildered by her flexibility. 

"My daughter—" she gasps, turning to Neytiri. "Does she have bones?" 

Tuktirey giggles, sliding down into the splits carefully, not wanting to injure herself. "Neteyam can do something super cool, too, grandma!" 

"What can he do?" Tsu'tey smirks from beside his mother-in-law, edging the young girl on. 

"He can touch his toes to his head!" Tuktirey giggles loudly, sitting up, flashing her missing teeth, all gums.

Neteyam protests weakly as Ao'nung and Tsireya join the family. Tsireya immediately goes to Lo'ak, whispering in his ear. 

"Tuk!" Neteyam sighs, faking tiredness. He slumps his shoulders for good measure. "That was supposed to he our secret."

"Oops!" Tuktirey squeals, covering his mouth, eyes comically wide. "I didn't mean to!" 

Neteyam pats her head. "It's okay."

"You have to show us!" Tom calls out from the kitchen, mouth stuffed full as he walks into the room, raising a brow. "Or you're lying."

"There's no way you can do that!" Kiri laughs from next to her mother. 

Ao'nung watches the people, wondering where the hell everyone slept, because nobody went home last night. Tsireya seems to be thinking the same. They share an amused look. 

"I can do that, too!" Lo'ak protests, playful as he nudges his brother. Aside from Neteyam, nobody seems to pay him much attention.

Ao'nung frowns, but brushes off the painful pang in his chest. He notices Lo'ak's fading smile and the way he clenches his jaw before stepping to the side. 

"Come on, Tey!" Tuktirey shrieks in delight. "Let's show everyone!" 

Neteyam doesn't resist. He lets Tuktirey drag him down onto the floor, adjusting him with tiny hands to lie on his stomach. Neteyam slowly lifts his upper body, supporting it with his arms.  

He can see Tom recording him, but he doesn't mind. He will, however, be avoiding the family group chat for a while. 

Tuktirey dances around him and helps him bend his legs back, guiding his feet closer to his head. Neteyam's hips dig into the ground painfully, but he ignores it. His back hurts a little and he just barely manages to tap his toes to his head without any warmup. 

He flops back down onto the ground. 

Mo'at covers her eyes. "Ah, Eywa! All these boneless children!" 

Ao'nung steps up beside Lo'ak, forcing himself to smirk playfully. He nudges the younger with his elbow. "Wanna show me that later, baby Sully?"

Lo'ak blinks in surprise before smiling faintly. "Nah. I don't really like it. I'm just double jointed or whatever it's called. See?"

Ao'nung winces as Lo'ak stretches and arm out in front of himself, showing off his his elbow is loose enough to allow him to bend it back more than normal. 

"Great Mother —" Ao'nung gags. He is fine with backends, but this does him in. "Please, stop that."

Lo'ak snorts loudly, letting his arm drop.

Jake Sully claps his hands to gain attention. "Who's coming camping?"

Mo'at mumbles something about the weather and declines the offer. Grace does the same, offering to drive the older woman home. She accepts. 

Tsu'tey whoops, already hyped by the idea of sleeping under the stars. "Count me in, brother."

"We bringing wine?" Tom pipes up. "Besides, how do you wanna go camping, you buffoon? You can't even walk." 

"It's camping!" Jake gasps in offence. "Not hiking!" 

"And the road it made of grass and dirt—" Tom retorts. "I'm not carrying your fat ass." 

Ao'nung has never seen the great war hero, Jake Sully, act like this before. He's carefree, completely at home with the variety of strange people he calls family. 

"I'll help, dad." Neteyam offers easily, eyes twinkling hopefully at the chance to get the approval of his father.

Jake Sully inhales proudly and points to his eldest son. "See! Someone here actually appreciates me." 

Neytiri scoffs, swatting the back of his head. "Am I the air?" 

"The air I breathe?" Jake coos, jutting out his lower lip as he stares up at her. "The very thing that keeps me alive?"

Tom gags, falling into a fit of laughter with Tsu'tey. The two make kissy faces at each other until someone throws a slipper at their heads.

Sylwanin clears her throat, hands on her hips. Tsu'tey pauses. "You're not going anywhere if you continue being mean to our host." 

Jake smirks, crossing his arms smugly.

Sylwanin continues. "It's not nice to mock a cripple."

Jake gasps in offence. "Excuse me!" 

"You are excused," Sylwanin grins. 

Ao'nung covers his mouth to hide a laugh. Tsireya doesn't quite manage that. She's grabbing his upper arm, doubled over while giggling sweetly. Ao'nung catches Mo'at eyeing the girl in delight. 

Eventually, they manage to get ready. There's still a bit of harmless bickering going on. Grace leaves early with Mo'at and the two guys, Max and Norm. Kiri stays, smiling as she helps Neytiri prepare food. 

Lo'ak is, as always, banned from the kitchen. 

Ao'nung is glad he brought sweatpants and a sweater (he fell asleep in his formal clothes). He has something comfortable to wear for this trip.

Neytiri lends Tsireya some clothes, as well as Kiri. Ao'nung only borrows a clean pair of socks from Neteyam, because he forgot to bring some. 

"I didn't think I'd be camping in January," Ao'nung eventually mutters as he's left alone with Neteyam in his room. 

The smaller male flashes him a small smile. "Well, it is really warm. It's supposed to be twenty degrees where we're going."

"Celsius?" 

"What else, dumdum?" Neteyam snorts with an eyeroll.

"Well, your dad's American!" Ao'nung protests weakly. "I thought you liked American things."

Neteyam shrugs. "Maybe. But not those weird ass ways of measuring things."

The journey is surprisingly calm. Neytiri drives, Jake stuffed into the passenger seat, which is pushed back as far as it can go much to Lo'ak's disdain, taking up his leg space. He settles on taking his shoes off and pulling his legs up. Neteyam is knocked out cold next to him, head lolled back. 

Lo'ak takes a few very zoomed in photos of his sleeping brother. 

Ao'nung finds himself in Tsu'tey's car with Tsireya and Tuk. Ao'nung doesn't talk much, because Tsireya and Tuktirey are in a very animated conversation with Sylwanin. 

They arrive at a different campsite, one Ao'nung has never seen before. 

He can already feel the building up chaos as everyone gets out of the cars (except Jake, who gets tugged out by Lo'ak and Tom). Neteyam is holding the wheelchair in place. 

"This is really nice," Tsireya comments as she helps Sylwanin bring some of the bags of food to a couple of wooden benches and tables. 

Sylwanin smiles down at the young girl. "Sure is. Don't worry, the boys will he tearing each out apart the moment they try to set up the tents." 

"Is it really that bad?" Tsireya grimaces as she eyes Lo'ak, already glaring at Tom as the two fight over who gets the bigger tent. 

Sylwanin giggles softly and it sounds almost identical to Neytiri’s laugh. "Well, you'll see soon enough. Tom, Jake and Lo'ak are the same person in different fonts. Disaster is sure to ensure if they're all together."

Tsu'tey comes up next to them. "They are like babies. Making noise–" 

Sylwanin shushes him and turns back to Tsireya. "My husband likes to antagonise them, too."

Tsireya smiles politely, unsure what that means. 

Ao'nung kneels down beside Neteyam, who is trying to set a small fire for marshmallow making. "Do you have oil?"

Neteyam blinks. "Ah, I know I was forgetting something." 

Ao'nung watches him hurry back to the car to bring the oil. It is not entirely dangerless, but it sure gets the fire burning quicker. Neteyam lights an old shirt, placing it on the branches and logs he's carefully dribbles the oil onto. He adds newspapers for good measure.

Ao'nung steals a quick kiss. Neteyam flushes, hiding behind his braids. 

"Hey–" Ao'nung protests, tugging Neteyam's hair back. "Careful. You're gonna get yourself set on fire–" 

"It's called set yourself on fire, Nung." 

Despite his retorts, Neteyam doesn't complain as Ao'nung ties his hair back in a low ponytail. He adds some more log to the dancing flames carefully.

Ao'nung tries to focus on Neteyam, but he cannot help as his attention shifts to Lo'ak. He doesn't attempt to mingle with his family and when Tsireya is swept away by Kiri and Sylwanin, he just stands to the side, breaking a small twig into smaller and smaller pieces. He's watching everyone and he's smiling softly, but Ao'nung can see past the curve of his lips and discover the hidden sadness in his pale eyes. 

He turns to Neteyam with a sigh. "Tey, your brother–" 

"I know," Neteyam cuts him off quickly. Ao'nung almost misses the flash of pain on his face. "Trust me, I've tried to involve him. There's nothing we can do."

They lower their voice as Neytiri walks by with Tuktirey dancing beside her graceful form, chanting for more sunshine.

"But he's sad–" 

"Ao'nung, please," Neteyam murmurs tenderly, turning away to poke at the fire half-heartedly just so his hands have something to do. "I can't help him. I can't just outright tell my family to pay attention to him without starting a fight."

Ao'nung purses his lips. "But this is unfair!" 

Neteyam slumps forward and for a second Ao'nung nearly has a heart attack as the dark-skinned male's face comes way too close to the fire.

Neteyam sighs tiredly and stands. He holds his hand out to Ao'nung. "Come, let's go find some sticks for the marshmallows."

"Alright."

They disappear into the forest, smiling softly and chattering amongst themselves. 

"Hey," Neteyam whispers suddenly once they are far enough from everyone. "Do you smoke?"

"Cigarettes?" Ao'nung raises a brow.

Neteyam shakes his head mutely. 

"Oh."

"So, do you?" Neteyam asks again, reaching into his pocket. "Tsu'tey brought some stuff from home."

Ao'nung frowns deeply. His shoulders tense. "You do drugs?"

Neteyam steps back in surprise. "Drugs? No! This is not— Ao'nung! They're not drugs! They're just joints with a lot of herbs in them."

"So, drugs."

"It's the same as drinking!" Neteyam protests, cheeks flushed. "But fine, we don't have to. I was just asking." 

"Is that even legal?" Ao'nung steps closer, grabbing Neteyam's wrist and lifting his hand out of his pocket. He's clutching a joint with a sweaty palm. Ao'nung snatches it to inspect the offending little wrapped thing.

Neteyam sighs softly. He stared at the ground. "Everything in it is legal. The herbs are used mostly for traditional medicines too."

Ao'nung blinks. "Oh! Okay. We have something similar. I misunderstood."

"The smoke is kinda bad for your lungs but you won't really get high or anything. It kinda calms you down." Neteyam takes the joint back and stuffs it in his pocket. "And nobody will he able to smell it from the smoke of the fire."

"Are we doing this in secret?" Ao'nung smirks, cornering Neteyam against a tree. 

"I just don't want Tuk to see it," Neteyam murmurs, allowing Ao'nung to press kisses against his lips, eyes fluttering shut. 

Ao'nung presses him against the tree, kissing him for a while longer, uncaring if any of their friends (and Neteyam's family) might walk in on them. They're not doing anything bad.

Just each other.

Neteyam gasps softly into his mouth when Ao'nung grasps his hips, squeezing gently. Neteyam's arms wrap around Ao'nung's shoulders, pulling him closer. He feels anticipation settling in his core as Ao'nung reaches down, grasping his thigh and pulling his leg up until Neteyam hitches is against his hip, moaning softly. 

He feels warmth flooding his body as Ao'nung kisses down his neck. Neteyam swallows thickly.  They have yet to collect even a single stick for the marshmallows but it's okay.

"Nung, wait–" Neteyam whispers as Ao'nung slips a hand up under his sweater. 

"What is it?" Ao'nung murmurs against his skin. 

Neteyam is panting softly, pupils blown wide despite the burning sun. "We don't have time for this–" 

Ao'nung whines in protest. "But we do. We just arrived."

Neteyam lets himself get kissed again, parting his lips to let Ao'nung's tongue slip inside his mouth.

Someone clears their throat. 

Neteyam yerks back, slamming the back of his head against the tree, leg falling back down. He hisses and grabs at the tender spot he just hurt, tears in his eyes from the sudden pain.

Ao'nung doesn't jump, but he does laugh when he notices what Neteyam had done. He turns his head to see who had found them and comes face to face with Kiri and Lo'ak. Reluctantly, Ao'nung pulls back, rubbing Neteyam's shoulder to soothe him.

"Are you guys trying to fuck in a forest?" Lo'ak snorts, cheeks red.

Kiri giggles beside him. "In broad daylight, too!" 

Neteyam sighs, letting his head fall onto Ao'nung's shoulder. Ao'nung carefully rubs the spot he hurt. He doesn't feel a bump, which he thinks is good. 

"What do you two want?" Ao'nung asks. 

Lo'ak shrugs. "Nothing. We were bored."

Ao'nung purses his lips, annoyance flaring in his core. "And you couldn't figure out why the two of us were missing at the same time? Come on— you could have found literally anyone else to annoy."

"But–" Lo'ak copies Ao'nung playfully,  pursing his lips. "You're the most fun to annoy."

Neteyam tugs Ao'nung closer, startling the two men into silence as the eldest Sully hides his face against Ao'nung's chest, hugging him around his middle.

Kiri smiles at them, grasping Lo'ak's arm. "Well, you've annoyed him enough, Lo'ak. Ao'nung's face is so red, he looks like he's about to explode."

"Fine," Lo'ak replies swiftly. "Let's go back then."

Chapter 24: Confessions

Summary:

How do I always end up at my friends' uni lectures after my own lmfao

Tuktirey is the first to fall asleep. 

The fire is warm as the adults sit around it. Neteyam sits between Ao'nung and Lo'ak, pleasantly buzzed and a little smoked from the joint he shared with Ao'nung. 

Lo'ak has Tsireya on his other side, who is next to Kiri. The three of them are giggling between one another, leaving Neteyam to focus on Ao'nung, who is sitting beside Tom and therefore there is a gap between the two sides. 

Their parents sit across from them, laughing among themselves. Tom is especially loud with Tsu'tey. They're getting a little rowdy, but Neteyam doesn't pay them any mind, focused on his conversation with Ao'nung. 

"Have you told anyone else?" Ao'nung asks quietly, tapping his marshmallow and hissing when it nearly burns his finger.

Neteyam looks away. This conversation is wearing him down. "Not really."

"Nobody else?" Ao'nung whispers a bit more forcefully than he intended. "Tey, why won't you tell anyone? Have you gotten any calls back?"

"No," Neteyam murmurs before scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "I haven't really been looking either."

Ao'nung is confused. 

Neteyam sighs. "Please, Nung. I genuinely feel like I'm going to crumble under all the things I need to do."

"That's not what I mean—" Ao'nung protests weakly, voice hushed. 

The adults across from them laugh loudly at an embarrassing story Tsu'tey shares about Jake falling off a horse into fresh mud. 

Ao'nung falls silent as realisation dawns on him. Neteyam was trying to open up to him. He leans closer and places a warm hand on the other's knee, whispering into his ear. "Do you wanna step aside?"

Neteyam pulls back to look at him for a moment before nodding slowly. He leans over to Lo'ak, letting him know their intentions before slowly standing, stretching his limbs. 

Ao'nung followed after him, taking his hand. They walked for a bit in comfortable silence. 

Neteyam does not speak for a while. Ao'nung is patient. He doesn't want to hurt him by rushing him. Still, anticipation fills his core, because he wants — aches for Neteyam to trust him with his deepest thoughts. 

Neteyam sighs softly and stops walking once they are far enough from everyone, out of sight and earshot. 

He turns to face Ao'nung and pulls his hand to his chest, grasping the paler male's fingers gently, fiddling with them. Ao'nung lets him. "What do you want me to say?"

Ao'nung gasps quietly in surprise. "Huh? Whatever you're willing to tell me. You said you're going to crumble. What do you mean?"

Neteyam chews on his lower lip for a moment before letting go of Ao'nung's hand completely. "It's too much."

Ao'nung holds his breath.

"I have enough saved for this term, I just want to get past this exam season without suffocating, Nung." 

Neteyam lets Ao'nung pull him into a loose hug, even nuzzling against his warm chest. He hugs Ao'nung back around his waist, linking his fingers behind the other's back. 

"Your parents won't help you?" Ao'nung asks gently. He has a hard time imagining a life without his parents' help. 

But it seems to have seeped into Neteyam's bones completely. He doesn't remember the last time he's asked his parents for financial help — eventually, they stopped offering when he never accepted their help. 

"No," Neteyam admits stiffly. "But it's okay." 

Ao'nung doesn't want to argue with him. He doesn't think it's okay, because they're students and Neteyam's family is loaded beyond belief.  

Even if they have three kids, the Sully's are well off — if their fat shiny car and huge house is anything to go by. Ao'nung doesn't think it's fair that Neteyam is completely independent, even if he is an adult. Working part time, especially as a student, doesn't earn one much money.

Ao'nung wonders if Neteyam actually buys himself anything beyond the occasional bubble tea or coffee — things Ao'nung did not find to be luxury items. 

He lets his curiosity get the better of him. "Do you pay for everything?"

Neteyam sighs softly and nods. "Dorm, phone bills, food. Yeah, pretty much. Mom sometimes takes me out shopping for clothes." 

"But since when?" Ao'nung asks quietly. 

"Uh–" Neteyam takes a moment to think. "Since I started working." 

"Your dad really moved you into the dorms and has you pay for it?" Ao'nung frowns deeply, brows furrowed. "What about your brother?"

Neteyam smiles suddenly, a tender look resting on his delicate features. "He pays for the dorm, too. But he does get mom to buy his food and clothes."

Ao'nung suddenly feels tired. He wants to go home and just cuddle his forest boy, but he knows home is a long way away. Ao'nung is no introvert, but by the Great Mother, do the Sullys exhaust him with their weird way of handling their children. 

"Are you okay?" Neteyam asks gently, placing a hand on Ao'nung's hip, kneeding the flesh there lightly. 

Ao'nung clears his throat. He was supposed to be the one to ask this. Neteyam isn't supposed to comfort him — it should be the other way round.  

Upon his silence, Neteyam's face contorts in worry. He stares up at Ao'nung with furrowed brows, hand never leaving his hip.

"Nung?"

Ao'nung makes the rashest decision of his life yet. "Let's rent a flat together."

Neteyam blushes, mouth falling open. He swallows thickly and steps back, spooked by the sudden idea.

Ao'nung grabs his upper arm gently and tugs him closer. "With Lo'ak and Tsireya. The four of us." 

"But that's way more expensive—" 

Ao'nung silences him with a kiss. "No. No, it won't be. I promise. We'd split it four ways technically. Or you can pay a third with Lo'ak, I don't care."

"Nung, please calm down," Neteyam pleads quietly, the corners of his lips curling down. 

"I am calm." 

Neteyam doesn't look convinced. "What about Rotxo?" 

Ao'nung pauses. "Please, I just want to live with you."

Neteyam averts his gaze, allowing the feeling of longing to take over him. He feels it washing over him in waves before he gives in (Ao'nung is surprised how quickly it happened). 

"Okay." 

"Really?"

Neteyam nods, teeth nibbling on the inside of his cheek nervously. "After the exam season. I want to study in peace without having to go flat hunting."

Ao'nung floods with relief and wraps his arms around Neteyam's waist, lifting him suddenly and spinning him around. Neteyam lets out a startled laugh, holding on to Ao'nung's shoulders for balance, grinning. 

"Can I tell you something?" Neteyam whispers into the night as Ao'nung sets him down. 

Ao'nung hums, embrace never falling apart. "Anything."

"I kind of hate the dorms," Neteyam admits after a moment of silence. "They're just too crowded for my liking. And I prefer having my own space without having random people knock to invite me to parties or because they got the room number wrong."

Ao'nung clicks his tongue. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"We should head back." Neteyam pulls away from their hug slowly, hands lingering, brushing over Ao'nung's arms.  

"I want to kiss you first," Ao'nung smirks. 

Neteyam inhales deeply before nodding. "Just kissing?" 

Ao'nung raises a brow, caught off guard. "What else did you have in mind?"

Neteyam slowly lets one of his hands slip into his pocket. He closes his fist around something — Ao'nung can't see it — before taking Ao'nung's wrist and guiding the small object into Ao'nung's hand. 

The surfer blinks in surprise as he stares into his palm. "You wanna do it in the forest?"

Neteyam bites his lip and nods shyly, averting his gaze and kicking at a little pebble on the mossy ground. "If you want."

Ao'nung smirks, taking a hold of Neteyam's hips and tugging him closer. He ghosts his lips over Neteyam's and smiles into the kiss, excitement twinkling in his stomach. 

Neteyam doesn't protest when Ao'nung leads him further into the forest, completely out of earshot. 

Nobody comes to find them — or if they tried, they didn't succeed.

 

---

 

Neteyam wakes up to loud shrieks of delight outside the tent. He groans in mild discomfort, because his brother's knee is pressing into his side and he has one of Ao'nung's fat curls trying to slide down his throat. 

It's barely light outside.  

Tsireya is snoozing beside Lo'ak, curled into a little ball, hair pulled back in one long braid to keep it from getting everywhere. 

Ao'nung groans as Neteyam tugs roughly on his hair, headache already forming form the less than pleasant handling. He grabs Neteyam's wrist in warning. 

Neteyam yanks his arm free, nose scrunching in anger. 

Lo'ak sits up slowly, eyeing his brother. "Damn, what's got you in such an unbearable mood at ass o'clock in the morning?"

Neteyam rolls his eyes. "Your knee in my fucking ribs, moron." 

"Bro—" 

Neteyam sighs, trying to blink away a set of furious tears. He doesn't know why he woke up in such a horrid mood, but it doesn't want to go away. 

Ao'nung sits up in alarm, sharing a panicked look with Lo'ak. Tsireya stirs, groaning softly. 

"Fuck," Neteyam murmurs, waving them off. "I'm just stressed, sorry." 

"You're stressed?" Tsireya mumbles, unaware of what is going on because she is simply not awake enough. "What's wrong? Did we forget the homework again?"

"What?" Neteyam asks weakly. He sits up, leaning against Ao'nung's side. 

Lo'ak's nose twitches. "Bro, it smells like feet in here." 

"Don't look at me!" Ao'nung protests. "I fucking washed them with bottled water, jackass. Nearly froze my toes off." 

Neteyam chuckles quietly. He misses the simplicity of high-school and how easy things have been there, even with a part-time job. 

Tsireya promptly falls back asleep. 

Neteyam places a gentle hand on top of Ao'nung's and glances up at him, eyes soft. Ao'nung stares back at him, lips parting in surprise. 

Lo'ak lies back down, unamused by their silent conversation. 

They step outside, hand in hand. 

The campfire is not lit, and still Tom and Tsu'tey are sitting around it with Neytiri. Tuktirey is occupied with Jake's old beat up camera, photographing every bug and twig and flower. 

Ao'nung lets Neteyam pull him to the forest and suddenly he's crumbling. He grasps Ao'nung's arm and exhales sharply.

"I hate university."

Ao'nung is stunned into silence. "You hate uni?"

Neteyam nods, firm. He looks like he's only just understood this about himself. "I hate it so much."

"Why?" Ao'nung asks suddenly, nerves wrecking his stomach from Neteyam's sudden bursts of confessions. "What don't you like about it?"

"No, I hate it, Ao'nung." Neteyam rubs a hand over his face, exhausted. "I think I'm burning out and I can't stop it. I've felt it for months."

Ao'nung coos softly, pulling his lover into his arms, rubbing his back, enjoying the warmth of the other's body against his own. Only them does he realise they both forgot to put on shoes.  

"I'm sorry, my love," Ao'nung whispers eventually, nuzzling closer. "Once exams are over, I'll take you somewhere nice so you can relax."

Neteyam sighs, trying to press even closer to Ao'nung, seeking his warmth. "I hope we can have time to do something fun. I— I think I need it. I really do."

Ao'nung tightens his arms around the smaller body, supporting Neteyam's weight as the other male sags slightly. 

"Ah, fuck, Nung–" He whines out desperately. "I feel so, I don't know, depressed."

"Depressed?" Ao'nung freezes, pulling away slightly to look into Neteyam's eyes. He feels like he's been doused in cold water without any warning. 

Neteyam looks down, features soft and relaxed. He looks awfully relieved. 

"I think I'm depressed."

  

---

 

It is the last week of classes before exam season. Neteyam is surprised to see two of his friends crowded around his desk when he arrives to his Korean class. 

"Uh, hey?" He asks curiously, coming closer, unsure. 

The girls look up at him, smiling. "Hi, Neteyam! Can you help us please?" 

Neteyam sits down beside them. "What do you need?" 

Payìva opens her notebook and shows him her homework. "We've been trying to figure out what this is— we've tried to translate it but only got 'rule of thumb' from Google. But that can't be." 

Neteyam chuckles. "Ah, I got alien driver once for tour guide." 

Together, they try to dechiper the grammatical structure for a while. They're early, so there is plenty of time for them to do so. Eventually, they figure it out.

Rey'ka sighs in relief, pushing her hair over her shoulders as she closes her notebook. She checks the time on her phone. "That was so much easier than it seems."

"Easy for you, sis," Payìva grins, shaking her head. "I don't understand half of this." 

Neteyam hums in thought. "Ah, we can study together."

"That's a good idea!" Rey'ka enthused. "We could invite more of our friends too."

"Right!" Payìva's heart-shaped grin widens. "Everyone can motive each other to study harder. We should invite Tsireya and Kiri." 

Neteyam chuckles quietly and shakes his head. He fiddles with his pen. "Is there a place big enough to fit us all?"

Payìva thinks for a moment before shrugging. "I know a café. It has a nice downstairs area with a lot of chairs and you can plug your laptop in, too!" 

"Then that is settled," Neteyam smiles at the two girls, nose scrunching. "We could go this weekend maybe." 

"Totally!" 

Notes:

I thought uni lectures were supposed to be interesting because you're learning something you are interested in but I'm highkey disappointed bc my lecturers are kinda ass at explaining things
It honestly sounds like they're talking to themselves rather than us 😭

Chapter 25: Apple and Pear

Summary:

Did I study? No
Did I write 3 chapters instead? Yes

Exam season ends fairly fast for Neteyam, which me means he actually has to come clean about not having a job anymore. 

The dorms are closed and his father is home, broken leg healing slowly. 

He was no longer stuck in a wheelchair, now walking on clutches. 

Jake Sully is sitting at the table, reading a book casually when Neteyam slinks past him, shoulders a little hunched. He hesitates before slipping into the kitchen. He grabs a small apple and pear smoothie, leaning against a counter in complete nerves.

Neteyam feels like he is about so confess the greatest sin ever made by man. 

In reality, it isn't even a sin. These things happen. He's human — humans get fired. 

But Neteyam was not supposed to get fired. He doesn't know why it happened. He didn't bother trying to ask. What would it even change? He wouldn't get the job back even if his boss told him why he was fired anyway. 

Neteyam rubs a hand over his face, sighing softly. He wants to go back into the dining room, but his feet are rooted to the ground.

Finally, after many more minutes of hesitating and listening to Jake turn the pages, Neteyam walks into the room. He opens his mouth only to close it again before clenching his eyes shut. 

Jake Sully notices — senses that something is wrong. He swears he developed that sense the minute Lo'ak was born. 

Neteyam swallows thickly and stand in front of him on the other side of the table. "Dad—" 

Jake sets his book down gently. "What's wrong, baby boy?"

Neteyam grasps at a nearby chair but does not sit. "I— I got fired."

Jake Sully blinks slowly, setting his hands in his lap without a word. He counts to ten in his head because he knows he should not lash out before finding out the details. "What happened?"

Neteyam relaxes a little, but he cannot help but dread this conversation. "I'm not sure. They just said they don't have an opportunity to employ me anymore." 

Jake sighs, rubbing his forehead. "That sucks. I could get you a spot next to Lo'ak."

Neteyam sits down slowly, facing his father. He picks at a stray thread on his T-shirt. "Would it be okay if that were to happen in the summer?" 

"You're done with your exams, boy." Jake Sully pushes his book aside and shifts to get more comfortable, leg aching a little. "It's February."

Neteyam nods quickly. "I know, sir, but next term will be really hard and I—" 

"How are your grades?" Jake cuts his son off, head tilting to the side.

The oldest Sully child takes a moment to think before he sighs softly in defeat. "I got over 85 in everything except one class." 

"Percents?" 

Neteyam nods again. 

Jake hums. "Then, I don't see why you cannot work again."

Neteyam sits up a little straighter and crosses his lets at the ankles. "I will have more classes—" 

"I didn't ask." 

Neteyam snaps his mouth shut so quickly, that he actually flinches at how hard he clicks his teeth together, pain jolting up his jaw.

 

"Why do you do this to me?" He whispers out, voice pained and face scrunching up in obvious distress. 

Jake furrows his brows and his jaw clenches. Neteyam knows he would he on his feet, marching across the table if only his leg wasn't in a cast, broken. "Do what?"

Neteyam stays silent.

"What do I do?" Jake repeats, voice quiet — too quiet to be considered normal. "I teach you how life is. Is that your problem?"

Neteyam's lips quiver. He blinks quickly and shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry. I can work now, too." 

"Good." Jake reaches for his clutches. "I can get it settled by Monday. Can you do twenty hours a week?"

Neteyam knows Jake Sully doesn't mean it as a question, even if it is presented as such. "Of course. Thank you, sir. I appreciate it."

Jake nods, getting up slowly.  He waddles out of the room and Neteyam lets his shoulders slump finally. He had hoped for some time, but it's torn out of his grasp as soon as he feels like he can breathe again. 

Neteyam doesn't linger long, disappearing upstairs back to his room. He stares at the calendar on his wall, the one he drew himself and sighs. February is one of the hardest months for him. He hates how it's only the first day of it, but he does feel a little excited to spend his first birthday together with Ao'nung as an official couple. 

Neteyam flops down onto his bed and buries himself under his covers until only his eyes show. He thinks about taking a nap, but taking naps fills him with anxiety. His parents had gotten mad at him one too many times for sleeping during the day that it has just become engraved in his mind to only sleep at night. 

For the next few minutes, Neteyam just spends time thinking about all the things he doesn't like about his life — there's more things than he originally thought. 

He does love his little siblings; he adores cooking with his mother even if the onions always make his eyes water and he likes it when his dad lets him drive his car. But he hates it so much that he barely has any freedom. Neteyam knows he gets to do a lot of things other people cannot. 

He knows he has Jake's support if he gets too drunk at a party to drive home or if he gets hurt playing a sport. He knows he can go to his mom for advice about Ao'nung. 

But Neteyam is also very much aware that nobody he knows is doing two university courses at the same time while also working. And it's just too much to handle sometimes. He worries for Lo'ak. 

For the first few weeks without a job, while he kept it a secret, Neteyam had felt a bit better, like there was actually time in the world that he could keep up with. For a moment, he felt like he could breathe. 

All good things pass however. Neteyam is aware of this. 

Perhaps all he can do is accept this. 

Perhaps this is how things are supposed to be. 

He just hopes he won't fall apart under all of this weight. 

 

---

 

Neteyam is numb.

The weeks pass by in a blur; the only evidence that he's doing something are the countless photos in his phone.

Neteyam hardly remembers the party his family threw for him for his twenty-first birthday and he certainly doesn't remember Lo'ak's birthday a couple weeks later, on the twenty-eighth. 

All he knows is that his baby brother wears the armband Neteyam made him proudly.

Neteyam sits in class, his fifth lecture of the day, brain numb. He has work after this, but at least he was placed to work right beside Lo'ak. Reluctantly, he accept that this new situation isn't so bad — he is exhausted day and night though. 

Neteyam still does not get to sleep even just five hours, but he's become so used to it that it hardly becomes a problem anymore if he stays up all night, sitting above his notebooks with a horrid ache in his back from the way he hunches his shoulders. 

That is, until he catches the most horrible cold of his life, his immune system failing on him. Neteyam tries to power through this, too, not going home and going to classes even though he cannot breathe through his nose unless he is outside in fresh air. 

He really thinks he can handle it — until he can't. 

Neteyam is not sure when it happened, but as he stood up to step outside the lecture for a moment to discreetly try to ease his suffocating tendencies with some nose spray, he falls backwards and the guy sitting behind him barely catches his head before he bashes it into the corner of the desk, vision blurring from the burning fever he's been ignoring (stuffed full of medicine) for days.

There is a commotion and the rest of that lecture is cancelled. The guy who caught him stays behind with the professor as an ambulance is called, because Neteyam actually loses consciousness not only from the illness tearing his body apart, but also from the force of the hit his head took. 

The friendly stranger's hand is bruised as he used it to cushion Neteyam's head.

It isn't until Jake Sully gets a call from the hospital that he realises something is very wrong. All he can do is grit his teeth and try to not break every single speed limit on his way the the town his son was studying in. He was fresh out of his cast, barely having spent a day carefully getting used to his legs again. 

But he does not have time to think about this as he lets the nurses lead him to the room Neteyam is in. 

He's unconcious, covered in a thin white sheet, dark hair splayed out on a blinding white pillow, a deep contrast. 

"What happened?" Jake asks quietly, staring at the sleeping face of his oldest child. 

Even as he sleeps, Neteyam looks troubled, jaw set and lips curving downwards. 

One of the two nurses in the room looks over her chart. "He is exhausted."

The other hums along. "The stress he is under raised his catecholamine and suppressor T cells levels. His immune system is weakened greatly and it makes him more vulnerable to viruses."

Jake purses his lips as he turns to look at his son. "Are you sure it's from stress?"

"The ambulance brought him here straight from class," the first nurse speaks up, eyeing Jake Sully with disdain. 

"Has he woken up since being brought here?"

She nods. "We asked him some questions. He's had a high fever since Monday that he's been suppressing with medication. We are waiting for the results of a blood test."

Jake Sully listens carefully, trying to ignore the squeezing feeling in his chest. "When can he come home?"

"We must keep him for the night, until his temperature is in the clear again," the first nurse speaks again, relaxing a little when she realises Jake Sully isn't one of those raging parents, demanding their battered child be allowed to go home. 

Jake Sully stays until visiting hours are over and he gets sent home.

Notes:

Felt like Neteyam and Lo'ak are winter babies so I have given them February birthdays 🎂 🥳 🎉

Chapter 26: You Like Me

Summary:

Side note: I've only ever spent a night in the hospital a decade ago so idrk how it goes

When Neteyam wakes up, he has a pounding headache and his entire body feels heavy. He tries to breathe through his nose but it is impossible, his cold is still raging. 

A cool hand lands on his forehead gently.

"My Neteyam—" Neytiri whispers, leaning over him as he lies in the hospital bed, flat on his back. "Why didn't you come home to rest?"

Neteyam notices the IV sticking out of his arm. He also notices how sad his mother looks. 

"Sorry," he croaks out, voice hoarse and throat dry, aching. 

Neytiri looks to the side — Neteyam turns his head, too as her soothing hand leaves his forehead hesitantly. She's looking at her husband, who is staring at the ground, clutching one of his crutches in an iron grip. He's sitting in the white, plastic chair by the door.

Neytiri stands, patting Neteyam's shoulder, squeezing gently. "I will let the nurse know you're awake."

When she leaves the room, Neteyam looks away from his father, who isn't even looking at him. He thinks it's because he disappointed Jake, but he isn't about to bring up this topic. He hopes he can get out of it with a quick apology and a promise to do better.

There's a tired sigh; it drifts across the heavy silence in the room. Jake doesn't stand, but he does set his crutch down. "Son."

Neteyam tenses, thrown in a fit of coughing. 

Jake waits for it to stop. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He isn't asking about the cold. Neteyam knows.

Neteyam wants to scream at him that he tried to. He tried to ask for time — he only wanted to start work once summer starts. He keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to disrespect his father. Not when he was delirious with fever and suffocated by his own nose. 

He lies through his teeth. "I didn't want to fall behind in my classes."

In truth, there was nothing he wanted more than to go home and sleep — but every time he thought about calling one of his parents, he was blinded by fear, squeezing at his throat mercilessly. 

Jake sighs again. "I didn't mean your cold."

Neteyam shuts his mouth and refuses to say anything — he tries to keep his mouth closed anyway, but he has to open it because it's the only way he can breathe. 

"Neteyam, " Jake tries again. "Talk to me." 

"I don't want to." 

The surprise is apparent on Jake's face as he stares across the room at his son, lips pursed and down-turned at the corners. His throat bobs with a tense swallow. "Why not?"

"Because," Neteyam begins, boldness seeping into his core. "You wouldn't understand, nor even try to." 

"Neteyam," Jake repeats his name again, voice nothing but a whisper. "I'm asking you to tell me, so I can understand."

Neteyam is reluctant and Jake can feel the way his son rapidly building up his walls. Neytiri and the nurse are nowhere to be seen. 

"Leave me alone." 

Silence falls over the father and his son; it is tense and cruel, twisting Neteyam's stomach into tight knots, blocking off the already stolen air from his lungs.

"There you are," a nurse steps in, smiling brightly. "Glad to see you awake."

Neytiri steps in after her, eyeing her husband, sensing something. She rolls her eyes and gently slaps the back of Jake's head, as though scolding a child. 

"Uh—" Neteyam breathes out. "Good morning."

The nurse, cheerful, giggles softly. "It is actually afternoon! But don't worry. It is good that you slept so much."

Neteyam nods, sitting up slightly. 

"Right," the nurse chimes, clapping once before reaching into her pocket, pulling out two boxes of pills. "Now that you're awake, it is best you take these. We have already added vitamins to your IV, but it isn't really enough to help you heal. This pill is for your fever, this one is to help your cold in general. It has some pain dulling effects, too."

Neteyam takes the pills gratefully, muttering under his breath and grimacing (it was supposed to be a smile). 

"When can he come home?" Neytiri asks gently as she hands Neteyam a bottle of water. 

The nurse hums in thought, glancing up at the ceiling. "I believe we must test his reflexes and see if he can walk by himself first."

Neteyam swallows the two pills one by one, gagging at the bitter aftertaste. He sniffs. Neytiri is quick to hand him a tissue. He takes it without complaints. He blows his nose but it does not feel any more empty than before. He can only inhale once before it is clogged again. 

The nurse places a hand on his shoulder gently and leans down to be at eye level with him. Neteyam notices how young she is, probably fresh out of school. 

"Do you feel ready to try standing?"

Neteyam nods and lets her guide him to sit on the side of the bed, naked feet hitting the cold tile. Neytiri is by his other side, hand on his back, caressing tenderly. 

Neteyam relaxes a little and a small smile forces its way onto his face as he leans into his mother's touch. Slowly, he lifts himself, standing up. It's not exactly comfortable, but he doesn't stumble beyond a small sway from his headache. 

"Very nice!" The nurse grins, some of her enthusiasm seeping into Neteyam's bones.

He stands a little straighter as they let him go to stand on his own. 

"Now, I need you to hold your arms out like this, and close your eyes," the nurse explains, showing him as she does so. "Right. Now, touch your nose with your right pointer finger. Wonderful. Left, please. That's great, that's great! See, mom, he will be just fine." 

Neteyam takes a few steps one instructed to before the nurse deems him healthy enough and he gets to sit down again. 

Now, the nurse's pale face turns serious. She pulls a chair over and sits in front of him. "I would like to ask you some questions. Do you want your parents to stay?" 

Neteyam nods. 

"Right. Please, do take a seat Mrs Sully."

Neteyam watches as his mother sits down next to his father, nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He's glad they're on the other side of the room. 

The nurse purses her lips and grabs a notebook and a sparly, purple pen. She taps it against her chin.

"I'm actually a doctor," she says after a moment of silence. "I completed nursing school first. Not that it's really important, but I think maybe you'll feel more comfortable with talking to me if I also tell you about myself."

"I appreciate that," Neteyam murmurs politely, setting his fiddling hands in his lap, legs hanging over the edge of the bed.

"Okay," she nods in approval. "Well, I'm not the kind of doctor to do surgeries. I'm sure you know all about what this means. I'm going to have to do a psychological evaluation on you, since your bloodwork came back nearly perfect."

"Okay." 

She hums to herself, scribbling something down. "Do you have a family history of anxiety disorder or depression?"

Neteyam glances it his parents for a second, but they politely avert their gaze. "My brother has ADHD." 

She nods to herself and writes the information down quickly. "I take it he is diagnosed. Now, tell me, have you been experiencing a loss of appetite?"

"A little." 

"How about disinterested in hobbies you used to enjoy." 

Neteyam pauses. "Ah, I don't really have time for hobbies. I'm not sure."

The nurse — doctor — whoever she is (Neteyam doesn't know) frowns but writes this down too. "Alright."

She continues for a while, asking questions and letting Neteyam answer them. Neteyam doesn't lie, but he doesn't admit everything he's feeling. Not only because his parents are there, but because he does not want to be diagnosed with anything. 

"Well, I don't think we need to medicate you for anxiety or depression just yet, but you need to make sure you relax more and perhaps try to find the time to indulge in some hobbies." 

Neteyam stares down at his head. "I can try, but I don't have time to even eat sometimes between classes or work." 

At this, Neytiri’s gaze snaps to his son before her eyes narrow and she turns to glare at her husband. Jake flushes, looking away. 

The nurse frowns. "Well, that is not good. Going hungry will only increase your exhaustion. How much do you sleep?" 

Neteyam turns his gaze to his father, staring into his eyes without a hint of any feeling in them. "It's down to three hours now." 

The nurse senses the tense atmosphere between them, but she propels through, not letting it get in the way of her work. "Oh dear. But why?" 

Neteyam stops feeling anything (except the pesky nature of his cold). "I am completing two degrees at the same time. I work. And I do archery competitively with my university's team."

The nurse glances towards his parents and furrows her brows. Her opinion on them seems to shift and it is clear to her why Neteyam allowed them to stay on the room. She feels protective (she knows she should not, it's a bit unprofessional of her, but she's been in the same shoes before). 

"I believe it is best we write you a doctor's note." She is immediately rummaging through her papers. "I suggest you do not attend any classes for the next two weeks unless you absolutely must. I have to be honest with you, I have never seen someone like you before."

"What does that mean?" Neytiri ask gently, face red with shame. 

The nurse glances her way. She does not want to be rude. "Neteyam is under a lot pressure, Mrs Sully. Usually, such patients lash out." 

Neytiri nods slowly. 

Neteyam sniffs, only to be thrown into a fit of coughing, throat raw and dry. 

 

---

 

At home, his parents are tiptoeing around him. 

Neteyam stays locked in his room. He doesn't let them in, having physically turned the key. Only when they go to work does he venture to the kitchen or the living room, enjoying the silence. 

Neteyam spends these two weeks trying to find himself. He wants to know what he likes. He likes archery because it is a part of his mother's culture. He likes flying because his dad has the coolest army jet.  He hated ballet, but he likes knowing he is flexible, even more than Tuktirey. 

Most importantly, Neteyam loves his siblings and Ao'nung. His friends keep him sane. 

Most days, when Ao'nung doesn't have class, he comes over while Neteyam's parents are at work. Neteyam's cold passes in a few days, though his voice stays a little raspy even as the first week is up.

Neteyam lets Ao'nung have him. 

It doesn't matter where. 

In his own bedroom, in the bathroom, once even in the kitchen. He likes the freedom. Sometimes, even twice a day. 

He does limp a little after edging Ao'nung on a bit too far, getting himself bent over his own desk for a solid hour, Ao'nung pulling on his hair. 

Finally, weekend comes around and Ao'nung doesn't have to sneak over. He comes over with Tsireya. 

Tsireya brings Neteyam a little gift, some chocolates (white, with strawberries) and a small white Teddy bear. 

"How are you?" She asks softly, hugging him as Lo'ak saunters down the stairs, hair unbraided and fluffy. She tries to keep herself calm and focus on Neteyam, but her pale blue eyes keep drifting to Lo'ak, who, to Neteyam, looks like a mess. 

Neteyam hugs her back. "I'm okay. I get to sleep all day." 

Ao'nung smirks smugly, crossing his arms — Lo'ak shoots him a glare, fully aware of what has been going on in his house. Ao'nung winks at the younger Sully. 

"That's nice!" Tsireya chirps. "Are your parents home?" 

"They're in the garden, " Lo'ak buts in, gesturing to their back door. "Mom tricked dad into gardening." 

"Do you guys want to go outside?" Neteyam asks gently (he hasn't been outside at all in a whole week). 

Tsireya nods, excited. "Is Tuk home?" 

"She's outside with mom." Lo'ak crosses his arms and pouts. 

He follows after Tsireya as the girl hurries outside to play with the youngest Sully. Neteyam immediately turns to Ao'nung, grabbing him by arm and dragging him upstairs. 

Ao'nung panics, stuttering in surprise. "Hey— what's going on?"

He nearly trips up the stairs as Neteyam tugs him along. Ao'nung gets twirled into Neteyam's room and the oldest Sully is quick to lock the door. 

"What things do I like doing?" 

"What?" Ao'nung inhales sharply. "What do you mean?" 

Neteyam doesn't feel like beating around the bush. "My only interests are the ones my dad wants me to have."

They sit down on Neteyam's bed, facing one another, knees brushing. "You like camping. "

Neteyam bites the inside of his cheek, teeth tugging at the skin. He slumps his shoulders and sighs tiredly. "Ah, fuck. You take away what I do because of my parents and there's really nothing left."

"Neteyam," Ao'nung whispers, dark brows furrowed. He places a hand on Neteyam's darker cheek and takes a deep breath. 

"Yes?"

"I can't tell you what you like to do." Neteyam averts his gaze at Ao'nung's words. "But I know what kind of things you like."

"Ah," Neteyam flicks his tongue over his lower lip, curiosity spiking. 

Ao'nung pulls him into his lap, playing with his braids. "You really like me."

Neteyam snorts, covering his face with his hands, body wrecked with tremors are he laughs.  "I didn't know you were a thing?"

Ao'nung shrugs. "I'm your thing. Just a lovestruck fool." 

Neteyam grins. "I wanna marry you." 

Ao'nung tenses, face flushing deep red. He clears his throat. "When?"

Neteyam hums, pretending to be deep in thought. "Right now. I have one of those gummy rings." 

Ao'nung chuckles, grasping Neteyam by the back of his neck, tugging him into a kiss. "We can't get married right now." 

"Why not?" Neteyam teases. "Does this mean I can't call you my husband either?"

"That you can," Ao'nung smirks, pushing the smaller male onto his bed, climbing over him and settling between his legs. "But then you're my wife. All pretty for me." 

Neteyam swats at him with a startled laugh. "Hey, no, I'm not."

"Pretty?" Ao'nung teases, bumping their noses together. "Nah, you're gorgeous."

Neteyam burst into a fit of giggles, unaware of the curious ears outside his door. 

Notes:

Some of yall been itching for Neteyam to finally talk back at jake so
You ask I deliver
Side note: genitals are mentioned way to many fokin times in my lectures and it makes me wanna tear my hair out

Chapter 27: Apartment Hunting

Summary:

Me, to my friend: why do you look at me with your eyes closed?

---

"What did you think about this one?" Ao'nung asks Neteyam, following him out of the apartment, trailing behind Tsireya, Lo'ak and both their parents. 

Neteyam shrugs, entirely unimpressed. "I hate the view. It's way too dark inside too."

"Damn," Ao'nung laughs. "You're hard to impress." 

Neteyam smirks, falling a step behind Ao'nung to pat at his ass, making Ao'nung stumble in surprise. "You managed it." 

"Right, but this is about the flat–" 

Neteyam rolls his eyes, swiftly pinching Ao'nung's side. Ao'nung whines helplessly at the attack. "I hated it. The second one was still the best." 

Jake and Tonowari share a look, having heard the entire conversation so far. Neytiri is walking beside Ronal, lost in conversation. They talk about Ronal's youngest child, giggling at the most recent milestones and the accidental swearword the child has picked up from Tonowari.  

"He does not seem the type to swear," Neytiri hums, sidestepping a fresh piece of gum on the sidewalk. 

Ronal chuckles, glancing at her husband, who is too busy listening to Tsireya as she rants his ear off about the flats they have checked out so far. "He is not. But he tripped over Ao'nung's shoes." 

Neteyam laces his fingers together with Ao'nung's and smiles up at him. He likes being shorter than someone. It is rare.  

Lo'ak is beside them, scrolling on his phone as the two families walk to the cars. They still have one more apartment to look at that day.  

"What do you think, baby Sully?" Ao'nung shoves him lightly. 

Lo'ak grumbles something before pocketing his phone. "About you? You're ugly as hell."

Neteyam snorts. "Whatever you say, Mr it's called a punch, bitch." 

Neytiri turns back towards them. "Calm down, boys. Save the fighting for when you're already living together and we can't hear it." 

Lo'ak places a hand over his heart, faking remorse. "I'm so sorry, mother."

Neteyam sighs softly, squeezing Ao'nung's hand. He feels awkward around his parents after the fiasco he pulled at the hospital. He hasn't been alone with them since a very awkward car ride home, a week ago. 

Ao'nung's had spent the entire weekend with him, as did Tsireya with Lo'ak, which means Jake Sully and his wife had not a single minute they could corner their son to talk about what he's been going through. 

Neytiri takes Ronal by the wrist gently, tugging her aside as their families chatter by the cars, discussing the flats with their children. 

Ronal senses something is wrong. "What is it, Neytiri?"

The dark-skinned woman rubs a hand over her forehead. "I would like to ask for your advice." 

Ronal listens carefully, head tilted and eyes soft. Neytiri has been her close friend for years, since their children started hanging out in high school.  

"Ask away." 

They stand, facing one another. Neytiri sighs softly. "I feel we may have been too hard on Neteyam."

When she does not continue, Ronal exhales slowly, turning her gaze to the sky. She smooths a hand down her blouse and pushes her curls behind her back. "What do you mean?"

Neytiri struggles to find the words, but when she starts talking, they spill out like a knocked over glass of water. "My husband wants the best for him. Neteyam wants to prove himself to his father and never complains. He has been so overwhelmed with work and school that he fell ill a week ago and ended up the hospital."

"From stress." Ronal looks over at the mentioned boy, watching the way he sticks close to Ao'nung and avoids looking at Jake Sully. 

"The doctor talked to us privately about him before he was discharged," Neytiri continues. She pinches the bridge of her nose. "They say he is on the verge of breaking down. Ronal, he never once complained to us that he was tired, but he's only been sleeping three hours a night—" 

Ronal bites her lip to stay silent. She has her opinions and they are not so kind. Ao'nung already blabbers out every single one of his concerns regarding Neteyam to her.

"Jake wanted him to work to teach him independence," Neytiri covers her eyes, lips trembling. Her voice breaks. "I do not know what to do to fix this. Neteyam has not spoken to us since he got home."

Ronal hums, tearing her eyes from Neteyam to stare into Neytiri’s face. She doesn't try to hide her disdain. They have been friends long enough for the cruelest form of honesty. "I think you have failed him as a parent, Neytiri. You and your husband both. Ao'nung tells me Neteyam has been working since he was seventeen, paying his own bills." 

Neytiri furrows her brows. "His own bills? As far as I know, Jake pays him back for them."

Ronal takes a deep breath to calm down. She is glad Neytiri is recognising the problems, but her lack of awareness is infuriating to her. "Neteyam told Ao'nung that he does not get any support. Not from your husband, nor from you." 

Neytiri looks more desperate by the minute. Even her braids are tense. She is at a loss for words. "Do you know anything else?"

Ronal clicks her tongue and frowns when her eyes lock with Ao'nung's. She shakes her head in warning, to which her eldest turns away, sheepish. He did not hear anything they were talking about. 

"It is not my place to say, but because I want to help Neteyam, I will tell you," she says eventually. "But only since he himself will take his secrets to his grave – if the secrets don't take him to his grave first."

Neytiri physically reels back at her friend's words. "Ronal!" 

Ronal raises a challenging brow.

"He won't tell us anything–" Neytiri insists as a weak attempt at salvaging the tense conversation. 

She sees Jake taking an unsure step towards them, but Tonowari holds his arm out to stop him. 

"He tells you nothing because you do not listen," Ronal snaps, agitated beyond belief. "Pull yourself together! Look at him and look at what you've done to him." 

Ronal's voice is loud and clear; she no longer cares if anyone hears.

Tonowari hisses, taking a sharp breath. "Ronal–" 

She holds her hand up. "No. I will not listen to this moping. Jake Sully, I am telling you as well, you have failed your son. Both of them."

Jake Sully looks down at Neteyam, watching the way he shrinks in on himself and he can see the exact moment he decides to sacrifice himself again. It makes his heart sink to his stomach.

Neteyam steps closer to Ronal, hands up in surrender. "It is fine, please. Nobody failed me, I just need to—" 

"Please," Jake sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Neteyam, Ronal is right."

Neteyam shuts his mouth, stunned. Ao'nung scurries to his father's side, having never experienced something like this before. Tonowari wraps an arm around his shoulder and holds him close. Tsireya sticks to Lo'ak's side, holding his hand. 

Ronal clenches her jaw and moves to stand beside her husband, glaring off to the side. The conversation stops abruptly and Neteyam, terrified, doesn't even know why, but he moves towards Ao'nung, tripping in his haze only for Tonowari to catch him.

Jake watches helplessly as someone else's father comforts his son.

 

---

 

The drive home is silent. 

They looked at the last apartment, but nobody felt like discussing if they liked it or not. Least of all Neteyam and Lo'ak.   

Before going home, they collect Tuktirey from a friend's house and stop at the store to buy food. 

Neteyam automatically puts the things he needs in a separate basket, numb to everything again. Tuktirey dances around the store, barely bumping into someone before Jake grabs her hand — gently — to calm her down. 

Neytiri pushes their chart silently, wounded by her own actions and Ronal's words.

Jake ushers Tuktirey over to her mother and Lo'ak, coming after Neteyam as he disappears towards the ice-creams, fingers grazing the glass, curiosity shining in his eyes as he tries to figure out if he wants any of them. He doesn't even notice his father following him.

Neteyam picks up a small tube of ice cream, examining it, nose twitching in mild interest before setting it down. He juts out his lower lip, deep in thought before his shoulders slump and he rubs a hand over his face tiredly. He contemplates just leaving his while basket, way too overwhelmed to be thinking about prices.  

"Ma Jake," Neytiri calls out, coming up beside her husband. 

Neteyam turns to face them, lips pursed, eyes roaming over them curiously. 

Neytiri smiles at her oldest son before dragging Jake away, nails digging into his arm. Jake winces, not fighting back. They're discreet enough that if nobody is directly watching them, they would not notice their argument. 

Neteyam quietly sets the basket down and wanders off to find his brother and sister. 

"Neytiri–" Jake grumbles, brows furrowed. "What is it?" 

"When was the last time you spent money on your son?" She deadpans, jaw tense. It highlights her sharp features. 

"Which one?"

"Do not get smart with me," Neytiri hisses, grasping his arm tighter, until he actually winces. She lets him go. "When was it? Were you aware he pays his own bills?" 

Jake frowns deeply, glancing around to see if their children were nearby. He bites down the growing feeling of dread. "Please, let's just go home first and calm down." 

Neytiri closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to steady herself. "No, we must do this here. That's his basket, in case you were unaware, and he's set it down right there. Look at it."

Jake reluctantly turns around to stare down at the ice cream isle. He spots the basket discreetly set to the side with the few things Neteyam put in it. 

"He's left it there." 

"My love, this is definitely not the place to be having this conversation–" 

Neytiri covers her mouth to hold back a frustrated shout. She points an accusing finger at Jake's chest. "You told me, that you would take care of buying whatever he needs so he can save what he earns. And I find out from Ronal of all people that you have not been doing this!"

"It slipped my—" 

"If you want to step a foot back in the house you will not finish that sentence, I swear to Eywa." 

"Mom?" Lo'ak asks weakly, grasping Tuktirey's little hand. She's blinking slowly, half asleep as she stands next to her older brother, feet pointed inward, toes almost touching.

Neteyam is standing behind them, hands crossed over his chest tightly, hunched forward. He's staring at the ground. 

Neytiri shuts her eyes tightly, taking in a sharp, deep breath. Jake shakes his head. 

Neytiri relaxes her shoulders eventually and walks down the isle quickly, snatching the little shopping basket Neteyam had left behind. Neteyam watches her take it to their chart, putting the contents in alongside the other things she picked out. 

Jake walks by his children, not quite strong enough in that moment to look in their eyes. His arms hurt under his weight as he uses his crutches.  

Neteyam bites down the urge to help him, picking up his little sister instead, letting Tuktirey snooze on his shoulder, whining softly from the tiredness weighing her down.

"Come on, bro," he murmurs to Lo'ak, letting his younger brother hold onto the bottom of his sweaters as they walk after their parents in silence. 

Notes:

Hands up if u thought this wouldn't be angsty from the way it started

Chapter 28: Mango Pepsi

Summary:

saw scream at the cinema at 10pm on a school night lmfao
My bfs mad at me for going w a friend instead of him lmfao but he's the one who didn't ask me to and told me this film isnt for me 😭💀

---

"Sit down, boys," Jake murmurs quietly, watching as Neytiri takes Tuktirey from Neteyam's arms. 

Tuktirey snuggles into her mother's warm embrace, making Neytiri smile softlt as she takes her upstairs to get her settled down into bed. 

Lo'ak, reluctant, tries to sneak away to put away the groceries, but Neteyam grabs him by his T-shirt. 

Jake waits for them, patient and sensitive, though not quite as sensitive as his two sons. Lo'ak hides it better, but Neteyam's resolve is stronger. At least, that is what they all think.

On the outside, he looks perfectly calm, collected, like he is about to sit down to talk about the weather. Lo'ak looks like he would rather be anywhere else — he probably would be. 

Neteyam sits down in front of his father. He wonders if Jake will bring up their personal issues in front of Lo'ak, or if they would have a one on one conversation about it later. 

Either way, Neteyam does not feel kind. 

He has to bite his tongue to keep his less then polite thoughts from breaking free from the cage of his teeth. 

Lo'ak sits down next to him and sighs softly. 

There is a tense silence for a while as they wait for Neytiri to come back. 

Neteyam takes a few deep breaths, not looking at his father for fear of glaring at him. 

Neytiri walks down the stairs, smoothing down her skirt, sighing. She seems lost in thought, obviously upset. Her delicate, deep brown hand comes to rest on the side of her neck, fiddling with a necklace gently. She paces around a bit, floorboards creeking under her feet. 

"Jake." She comes to stand next to him, hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

He seems to shrink under the weight, however small it is. 

Neteyam rolls his eyes, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest, jaw tense. Lo'ak furrows his brows, turning to look at his older brother, worry seeping into his bones. 

"What do you want?" Neteyam snaps, agitated beyond belief when nobody speaks for another minute longer. His legs is bouncing nervously the moment the words burst out of him.

Their parents freeze, staring at him, wide-eyed. A beat of tense silence passes between the four of them. Lo'ak bites the inside of his cheek roughly, frowning deeply. He places a hand on Neteyam's knee, patting it in comfort.

"Neteyam—" Jake warns, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he peers across the table at his son. 

Neteyam huffs, glancing to the side, defiance burning in his core. "What?"

Neytiri reaches across the table, placing a hand on his arm. He pulls away roughly. 

"What do you want?!" He hisses, standing, chair sliding back with an unpleasant shriek. "Do you want to fucking antagonise me even more? Was me being put in a fucking hospital not enough?! Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Bro," Lo'ak whispered carefully, lifting a hand but pausing, half-way to touching his brother. He lets his arm fall back to his side as he sits, staring up at his brother. 

Jake covers his face, elbow resting on the table. "We didn't come here to argue, Neteyam. Sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do–" He yelps in disbelief, throwing his arms up. "Quit fucking telling me what to do all the time!" 

Neytiri stands, walking quickly to her son but Neteyam is faster. He sidesteps her and marches to the door, barely leaning down to grab his shoes before he is outside, stepping into a puddle in only his socks. 

"Come back here!" Neytiri snaps from the doorway, reaching after him. "Neteyam!" 

He doesn't hear her, walking hurriedly, uncaring for the rock that tears his sock. He doesn't stop walking, hidden by the darkness of the night. 

In the distance, Neteyam can hear the familiar rumble of their car. He looks around quickly and disappears behind the thick bushes next to someone's fence.

Neteyam watches his mother drive slowly, squinting into the darkness, unable to find him from the lack of light. He sighs in relief when the car disappears from sight and tugs on his shoes, after taking off his destroyed socks. He promptly walks the other way, not even caring where he goes.

It's a little cold, but he's still wearing his sweater and his phone is in the back pocket of his jeans. He promptly turns off his location and sends a text to Lo'ak, letting him know he does not intend to come home that night. 

He doesn't care that he's damaging the perfect ignorance his family is in. He's suffered enough, now, it is their turn. However selfish it sounds. 

He only feels bad for Lo'ak.

Neteyam rummages in his pocket to see if he has some change and he's glad to find his card in there with his ID. He knows a shop that is open day and night. 

He walks there, stuffing his ears with his earpods, having found those in his front pocket too. The right one beeps rapidly, showing it is dying, so he only uses the left. 

Pushing open the door, Neteyam mumbles a quick greeting to the tired shopowner. He grabs a mango Pepsi and a small pastry. He doesn't want to buy anything else but he lingers inside in the warm anyway.  

His mother was less likely to find him here.

It was also pleasantly warm in the small space. Neteyam lifts a little chocolate bar off the shelf, inspecting it, pretending to care. In truth, he doesn't. He just needs a reason to stay inside.

And so he does.

 

---

 

He cannot stay in the shop for too long without being suspicious, so he buys the things he wants and steps outside into the cool night air. 

The moon is shining brightly, almost fully round as it spreads light along the houses.

Neteyam likes this neighbourhood. He doesn't know his neighbours, but he doesn't care either. He has everyone he needs (except maybe a father who doesn't put so much pressure on him, and a mother who notices). 

Neteyam contemplates calling Ao'nung; it's early enough in the night that he would still pick up, but in the end, he feels too embarrassed by his outburst to admit what had happened. So, with this in mind, Neteyam wanders into a familiar little park. He sits down on a bench, enjoying the silence and staring up at the stars. 

Lo'ak texts him a few times and he has a million missed calls from both parents, but Neteyam doesn't care — he cannot bring himself to. It's been a long time since he's felt so defiant. It courses through his veins, mingling with his blood and seeping into every little muscle in his body.

Eventually, the silence overwhelms him and he cannot handle it anymore. 

He calls Ao'nung. 

"Tey?" His voice rings out, sounding worried. "Are you okay?"

Neteyam takes a shaky breath and grimaces. "I got in a fight with my parents and I— I'm in a park now."

Ao'nung falls silent for a moment before groaning. "Did you run off?"

"Yes."

"Do you need me to come get you?" Ao'nung asks quietly. Neteyam can hear shuffling and muffled voices on the other side of the line. 

"Please." 

"I'm on my way, don't hang up."

Notes:

Bruh it's my mom's bday tomorrow and I can't handle this
Idk what to get her bc she got mad at every present I got her so far 💀
Am so mfkin exhausted

Chapter 29: Yours

Summary:

🤧🤧🤧

Notes:

Decided to take pity on yall lmfao and on myself too
Just hang in there guys things will be better soon
Side note
Do I recycle certain phrases when writing smut? Yes I do lol

Tonowari and Ronal don't ask questions when Ao'nung guides a crying Neteyam into their home.

Ronal silently makes him some herbal tea to soothe his tremors, meanwhile Tonowari rummages through their closet to find the fluffiest blanket they own. He wraps it around Neteyam's shoulders gently and rubs his tense muscles.

Neteyam can barely bring himself to look them in the eyes. He just wants to hide away in Ao'nung's room. Ao'nung takes his hand and leads him upstairs.

"You should sleep. I'm gonna go back down." 

Neteyam sits on his surfer boy's bed slowly and nods. "Do– are you going to talk about me?" 

Ao'nung frowns, placing a hand on Neteyam's head, fingers brushing through the tight curls gently. He leans down to look the other in the eyes. "No, I just want to get some water."

Ao'nung wanders downstairs, pausing in the hallway when he hears his parents tense voices. He remains out of sight.

"We must tell them that Neteyam is here," his father's voice rings out.

"Tonowari–" Ronal replies swiftly, whispering harshly to her husband. "Neteyam is an adult."

"It is only fair we tell them," Tonowari insists, taking a step towards his wife, hands held up. "They do not know where he is."

Ronal purses her lips, running a hand through her curls roughly, tugging on them when her fingers get caught. "I am disappointed in them!"

"You cannot let that cloud your judgement, my love," Tonowari murmurs softly, taking her wrist in his large hand, pulling it away from her hair tenderly. "They are parents. They must be sick with worry."

Ronal exhales deeply and lets her shoulders slump. "I refuse to speak with them." 

"My love—"

"No, Tonowari. Tsireya tells me everything Lo'ak says to her about their father. The boy is terrified! You cannot convince me Neteyam is not the same." She throws her hands up, yanking her arm free. "I will not speak with them and that is final."

Tonowari sighs tiredly and moves to the living room. His gaze falls onto his oldest child and he shakes his head. Ao'nung purses his lips and sits down, watching as his father picks up his phone and furrows his brows. 

"Ao'nung," he speaks up suddenly. "Have the Sullys tried to call you yet?"

Ao'nung gets his phone from his pocket and unlocks it. He shrugs. "Only Lo'ak."

Tonowari nods, not telling his son why he asked. He simply dials Jake Sully's number and puts the large black phone against his ear, waiting patiently. 

Jake Sully picks up immediately. "Tonowari?"

His voice is raspy, like he's either been screaming or crying, possibly both, maybe neither. Ao'nung has no idea — he's never has such a fight with his parents in his entire life, not even when he accidentally drove over a bump so hard that the cars nose slammed into the ground with a painful crack. 

Ao'nung moves closer to Tonowari, who, taking mercy on his jittery son, raises the volume of the call so Ao'nung can listen in. 

"Neteyam is here."

"Oh, thank Eywa—" Jake Sully wheezes out just as they hear a quiet, boyish sob of relief from the other end of the line. 

Ao'nung can make out Lo'ak's voice. "He's safe, dad?"

"Yes, baby boy, he's safe—" Jake soothes him. There's some shuffling and it sounds like the phone is accidentally thumped against something hard before Jake speaks again. "Tonowari, I don't know how to thank you."

"Perhaps the best way to thank me is to make up with your son," Tonowari replies gently. "He is hurting."

"I know, but I have no idea what to do," Jake rasps out. "He— fucking hell, I never noticed all his little cries for help, Tonowari! I brushed him off whenever he tried–"

A gentle, trembling feminine voice cuts in, raw and filled with pain. "Ma Jake, let us not burden Tonowari with our troubles." 

Tonowari puts them on speaker as Ronal walks into the room, lips pursed, anger burning in her fierce gaze. Ao'nung sits back down, clearing his throat and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"You do not burden us," Tonowari says eventually as a beat of silence passes between them. "Your sons are important to my children, therefore they are important to me." 

Jake takes a shaky breath. "You have no idea how much that means to me." 

Tonowari rumbles out a soft, low laugh and shakes his head. His eyes wander to Ronal, sobering up at the peeved look on his wife's face. 

"We will take care of him for the night, but in the morning, you should join us for breakfast." Tonowari sits down beside Ao'nung and pats his shoulder. "Bring your children. It will be awkward perhaps, but I want to let you know we will not turn away from you for not noticing what has been going on."

Ronal leaves the room, shaking her head. 

Ao'nung doesn't think he needs to hear anything more. He watches his mother disappear into his baby sibling's room silently before grabbing the water he told Neteyam he was coming to get. 

On his way up, he passes Tonowari, who is still talking to Jake. Ao'nung rubs a hand over his father's broad shoulder before walking back upstairs. 

When he walks into his room, he expects to find Neteyam sleeping, but the other is awake. Neteyam sits up slowly. He's wrapped tightly in a blanket, bare toes peeking out. 

He grimaces (it was supposed to be a smile) as Ao'nung comes to sit in front of him, handing him the water. 

Neteyam sips it carefully, sighing as it soothes his dry throat. He hands the empty glass back to Ao'nung, who stretches out to place it on his nightstand. 

For a second, Neteyam looks ready to cry again, but Ao'nung is quick to wrap him in an embrace, whispering gentle nothings in his ear, rocking them back and forth. 

"Can you–" Neteyam begins quietly, voice laced with uncertainty. "Can you make love to me?"

Ao'nung is surprised, but he doesn't let it show. He presses a soft kiss to Neteyam red cheek and nuzzles their noses together. "Would you like to feel loved, Neteyam?" 

Neteyam purses his lips and for a moment he looks utterly ashamed. Ao'nung scatters the feeling with a light caress to his furrowed brows, smoothing out the wrinkles on his forehead.  

"I would," Neteyam admits. 

Neteyam looks so frail in the moment, Ao'nung is scared he might completely fall apart under his fingertips.

"Tey." Ao'nung sits up a little straighter. His gaze turns serious. "I know it is not my place to say this, but I heard our fathers talk on the phone just now."

"Please don't."

Ao'nung grasps his arms, tugging him closer. "Tey. This is all a misunderstanding, baby. They're worried about you."

"I have to go home?" He asks carefully, eyes wide with undisguised fear. Ao'nung can read him clearly as the last of his walls fall apart.

Ao'nung shakes his head hurriedly. "No, no. You can stay. It's nothing like that. You don't have to go anywhere right now, and I'll make love to you all night if you need me to, but I just want you to know that nobody is mad at you. You haven't done anything wrong." 

"I yelled at my parents," Neteyam confessed with the same shame as a sinner in church who admits to murder in hopes of being forgiven. "I swore. I told them to leave me alone."

"Baby," Ao'nung breathes out again. "I'm proud of you." 

Neteyam reels back at such an unexpected response. His mouth hangs open but no words come out. 

Ao'nung smiles gently down at him and moves forward, lying him down on his back, settling between his thighs. 

Neteyam closes his eyes as Ao'nung kisses down his throat, teeth nibbling gently on the dark skin, not leaving any marks that wouldn't fade in mere minutes. 

"Nung," Neteyam shudders, fingers tangling in Ao'nung's T-shirt, dragging him closer until they are chest to chest, gasping into each other mouths as Ao'nung grinds their hips together.  

Neteyam moans softly as their aching hardnesses rub together, kept apart by fabric only. 

"I want to feel you," Neteyam gasps out, head falling back as Ao'nung slips a hand up his sweater, ghosting over his stomach, tracing the soft hairs. "Without— without anything, Nung, I want you to take me completely bare." 

Shivers ghost across Ao'nung's body at his lover's words, skin raised in goosebumps. Neteyam lifts his hips, letting Ao'nung tug his clothes off slowly, peeling away every last of the layers protecting him. 

Hesitantly, Neteyam turns onto his stomach, tugging Ao'nung's pillow down and hugging it, showing the taller male his back. 

Ao'nung smiles, leaning down to kiss at the pale stripes of his vitiligo, tracing the patterns he adores so much with his lips. Neteyam gasps softly, arching into the touches. 

Ao'nung sits back, pulling off his clothes before laying flat over Neteyam's body, hot, aching length slipping between the smaller male's cheeks, rubbing against his entrance wetly, smearing precum everywhere. 

Neteyam's toes curl in anticipation. 

Ao'nung simply rubs against him for a while, lazy and languid, like all the time in the world is there for them to spend together. Neteyam almost doses off, soothed by the faint pleasure and the heat of Ao'nung's body pressing him into the mattress. 

Neteyam shifts, pulling one oh his knees up, spreading himself without the use of his hands. He's still hugging the pillow, moaning against it quietly, voice barely escaping. 

Ao'nung grabs Neteyam's hip with one hand, the other propping himself up so he can trail kisses over the skin of Neteyam's shoulder as he grinds against the most secret parts of Neteyam's body.

They lie like this, silent and perfectly in tune. 

Neteyam is the first to shift. He turns on his side, making Ao'nung roll off him, hand not leaving his hip, grasping gently. 

Ao'nung reaches under his remaining pillow at pulls out a small bottle of lube. He smears it on his fingers, warming it up before reaching down and slipping a single finger into Neteyam without warning. 

Neteyam moans softly, cheeks flushing as he lies on his side, knees pulled up, ankles locked. 

Ao'nung lets him adjust, only twirling the finger around inside, pressing into the soft walls of his lover, brushing a sensitive bundle of nerves. 

It must be at least one in the morning when Ao'nung finally pulls his fingers out of Neteyam's hole, leaning down to sneak a peek at the loosened, twitching entrance before lathering himself with lube too, shuddering at the cold. 

Neteyam shuffles back against him, back arched delicately. He wants to be take from the back as he lies on his side. 

Ao'nung is willing to give him anything. 

The surfer sinks into the tight heat, guiding his member with a firm hand, sucking in the back on Neteyam's neck, right under the patch of white skin. 

Neteyam whines once Ao'nung is fully seethed inside him, aching cock dripping pearly liquid onto the surfer's bedsheets, still smelling freshly of detergent. 

Ao'nung takes his time. He wraps firm fingers around Neteyam's lengths and pumps him slowly, in time with his tiny little thrusts. 

Neteyam relaxes, mouth parted, panting softly as his eyes flutter shut. If not for his soft moans, Ao'nung would think he is sleeping.

They lie together in near silence, bodies and minds merging as the night turns to dawn. They do not sleep until the night sky turns light, covered in sweat and whatever evidence is left of their love, sticky and moist. 

For once, neither care. 

As Ao'nung fills Neteyam with his release for the second time that night, he is a mindless mess, his only thought being the boy in his arms. 

Neteyam falls apart under him, eyes rolling back from the pleasure as yet another orgasm washes over him hotly. Ao'nung doesn't pull out, but he's overestimated and barely keeping it together — but for Neteyam, he will. 

Neteyam is utterly blissed out, eyes heavy with sleep, lower back burning pleasantly. Neteyam's thighs shake as he wraps his legs around Ao'nung's hips, dragging him closer. 

Ao'nung leans over him, trailing a hand up his side before grasping his throat in a loose grip. 

Neteyam gasps softly, pupils blown wide in the dim light. "Please."

"What would you like, darling?" Ao'nung asks coyly, smirking down at Neteyam as he rolls his hips, dragging a moan out of Neteyam again. 

"Hold tighter," Neteyam pleads, placing his own hand over Ao'nung's and showing him just what he wants Ao'nung to do to him. 

Ao'nung squeezes his throat and at the same time, he pulls out almost completely, slamming back into Neteyam's willing body.

Neteyam keens at the feeling, nails digging into Ao'nung's hand. Ao'nung inhales shakily, muscles aching. But he is determined to pleasure Neteyam until he can barely remember his own name. 

"Ao'nung–" Neteyam whines out, rolling his hips down to meet Ao'nung's thrusts eagerly. They suddenly get wilder, teeth clinking together as they kiss roughly. 

Neteyam's brain is hazy, oxygen cut off slightly from the force of Ao'nung's hand on his neck, squeezing him. Ao'nung's other hand is grasping at Neteyam hip with a bruising force as he pounds into the smaller body mercilessly, satisfied by the lewd sounds the other is making.

"You're going to wake someone, darling," Ao'nung smirks smugly, snapping his hips forward with partical force. He swallows Neteyam's choked scream with a heated kiss.

Neteyam gasps loudly with every trust.  Ao'nung finds the perfect angle. It hurts just enough for it to be so excruciatingly good. So good that Neteyam's eyes roll back and he's pretty sure he's crying from the overstimulation as Ao'nung's thick member drags against his sensitive, messy walls. 

Ao'nung pulls back, watching himself move in and out of Neteyam's body, a satisfied grin on his face. 

He lets go of Neteyam's throat after a while, grasping the slender hips with both hands now, eyes full of love and desire as he watches Neteyam get pushed up and down his bed by the force of his hips bounding into him. 

Neteyam is wrecked, fingers tangling in the messed up sheets underneath his trembling, sweaty body. Ao'nung does not stop the relentless snaps of his hips into the willing body under him as he leans down, pressing kisses to the side of Neteyam's throat. He parts his lips, sucking the skin into his mouth, leaving a blossoming bruise behind when he pulls off.

Neteyam's eyes roll back as Ao'nung pounds into him.

It hurts so bad that Neteyam's eyes overflow with little diamond drops, rolling down his cheeks and disappearing. 

Ao'nung shudders, he can feel his release building and he knows he won't last another three minutes even. 

Neteyam urges him on, clenching his body down around Ao'nung's member  as he reaches between his own legs, chasing his final orgasm for the night. 

His wet from the previous loads, but this time, barely a drop comes out as he back arches, whining shamelessly. 

The sky is pink outside when Ao'nung cums inside him for the final time. 

He collapses onto Neteyam, pulling out, chuckling when he feels Neteyam trying to close his legs, undoubtedly sensitive and embarrassed by the ungodly amounts of semen flowing out of his body.

Ao'nung nuzzles their noses together,  guiding Neteyam's legs to the side so he can lie down beside the smaller male, spooning him from behind. 

Who cares if they're sticky?

Notes:

Been thinking about writing a fem!neteyam story 🤔 what we think

Chapter 30: Green Fanta (exotic)

Summary:

The beginning of the road to healing ✨️

---

Neteyam is sitting at the dining table in Tonowari’s home, surrounded by his family. He's exhausted and aching all over, but especially from the waist down. 

His hair is sticking up all over the place and he barely had time to shower before his family arrived.

Ronal glances at the young male before looking to her son, raising a thin brow, noticing the way both of them had bags under their eyes. Ao'nung's bun is completely disheveled, a few loose curls sticking towards the ceiling. She chuckles to herself and shakes her head.

Jake Sully is sitting with his back straight, white as a sheet of paper. He's looking between the people at the table.

Lo'ak avoids looking at anyone but his brother (and Tsireya). Neteyam struggles to look into his little brother's eyes, shame burning into his very core. 

Ronal clears her throat, handing her toddler to Tonowari, who looks a little startled at the sudden movement, cuddling the little girl fondly, kissing the top of her head. She giggles, nose scrunching. 

Neytiri swallows, peering at Ronal through her lashes. Everyone is silent except for the baby, cooing softly and clapping, clearly absolutely smitten with her father, tangling her chubby little fingers in Tonowari’s hair. 

Tsireya giggles suddenly at the scene. "Be careful, papa. She is trying to eat your hair." 

"Ah," Tonowari grins. "Well, we cannot let that happen."

Neteyam exhales deeply and rubs a hand over his face, slumping forward as relief washes over him like the crashing waves of the unforgiving ocean.

Breakfast passes by easily after that, chatter slowly begins to fill the room. At first, it is only about the weather and the youngest girls. Tuktirey easily brightens the mood further, toothless smile lighting up the atmosphere. She giggles, sliding from her chair to stand next to Tonowari and the little toddler, rubbing her back happily. 

Eventually, Ronal turns to Neytiri, placing a hand on the woman's upper arm silently. She blinks once.

Neytiri nods in return, silent conversation passing between them. 

Tsireya easily slips into playful banter with Ao'nung and Lo'ak, leaving Neteyam to sit in silence, observing the people around him. He does not feel like talking. 

Jake Sully falls into chatter with Tonowari.

"What did you think about the last apartment?" 

Tonowari hums. "We have yet to discuss anything with my children, but I personally find it our best option."

Tsireya leans closer. "I like the rooms! They're nice and bright." 

Ao'nung agrees with her easily, leaning back comfortably as he sips a glass of water. "I call dibs on the bigger one." 

"Why exactly?" Lo'ak rolls his eyes, facade of annoyance slipping into play easily. "Your big ass doesn't fit in the smaller one?"

Ao'nung smirks. "You look at my ass?"

Lo'ak falters as his plan backfires. "No!" 

"Be careful, baby bro," Neteyam murmurs, popping a tiny cocktail tomato into his mouth. "Someone might get jealous." 

"You mean you?" Lo'ak snorts loudly. "As if I'd get with this asshole." 

"Lo'ak." Jake warns quietly, but a small, amused smile is tugging on his lips. 

Ao'nung pelts a piece of cucumber at Lo'ak, doubling over in laughter when it lands in the middle of Lo'ak's forehead with a wet sound. Neteyam covers his mouth to stifle a giggle as his little brother begins to throw a very dramatic fit. 

Tonowari smiles at their antics before turning to Jake. "Have you made up with your youngest." 

Jake bites the inside of his cheek before sighing softly. "Once you called to let me know Neteyam was safe, I did sit down with Lo'ak." 

"How did it go?" Tonowari hums, eyes shining with curiosity, but Jake can see the protectiveness carefully disguised behind his gaze.

"Good, I guess. It will take time for us to fully recover from this but I think I know where I went wrong." 

The taller male nods slowly. "Where?" 

Jake frowns. He glances at the young adults and sighs in relief when none of them seem to be listening, too lost in their bickering.

"I forgot to let them be themselves," he admits eventually. 

Ronal perks up, trying to hide it by discretely reaching for an egg, setting it on her plate. She turns away to look at her son and his lover, smiling softly at them. 

Tonowari is aware that Ronal is listening, so he edges Jake on some more. "Is that so? What makes you think that?"

Jake swallows the lump in his throat. "Well, I always thought if I made sure to pack their schedules, it would help them be responsible."

Neteyam frowns, hiding behind his braids as he tilts his head towards his father without meaning to. Nobody seems to notice his nosiness.  

Jake rubs a hand over his face. Neytiri places a comforting hand on his elbow, openly listening to him talk.  

"I forgot to let them explore, though, I guess they still found some time to, given the parties." Jake relaxes when Tonowari chuckles. 

Neteyam chokes, drawing attention to himself. "Ah— I'm okay." 

"You were thinking about that party, weren't you?" Lo'ak nudges him under the table to which Neteyam glares at him. 

Jake visibly deflates. "Were all of you just listening to me?"

"I was listening, daddy!" Tuktirey grins, dancing over to him and climbing into his lap. Jake holds her close, kissing her head.

"Wonderful, baby girl. Wonderful."

 

---

 

Neteyam follows after his father, nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach and chest. Neteyam lets out a sigh as they walk down the street. 

It is the middle of the week. He would be back in school on Monday. He cannot wait.

"Son?"

"Yeah?"

Jake places a hand on Neteyam's shoulder. "You ready to talk to me?"

Neteyam wants to retort, but he holds it back. They need to have this conversation and it absolutely cannot wait anymore. "I guess." 

"I need you to be honest with me, Neteyam," Jake mumbles, taking a deep breath. "And in return I promise I won't snap at you." 

Neteyam smiles wryly. "How generous." 

Jake cracks a grin of his own, tugging his son into his side to wrap a protective arm over him. "Now, don't get smart with me, boy."

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir." 

Neteyam calms down considerably after their small, playful banter. Jake Sully watches his son's gentle features fondly, heart squeezing painfully at how tired he still looks even after more than a week of resting. 

"Alright, son," Jake begins eventually, steps slowing a bit as they walk through the familiar streets of the neighbourhood. "How are you?"

Neteyam blinks in surprise. "I'm fine. Why?"

Jake smiles sadly. "Because you look tired, baby boy. And I know it's my fault." 

Neteyam nods. "I guess it's true. I— I just got a little overwhelmed."

"You know," Jake rasps out, throat tightening painfully. "You don't have to work right now. Or in the summer. I didn't realise I have completely forgotten paying you back. I didn't mean to do that, so I need you to write down what you payed for, okay? All of them. Even from years ago. Groceries, bills, anything."

"It's not necessary—"

Jake holds a hand up. "No, Neteyam. We had an agreement that you'd keep the deadlines and I'd always pay you back. I didn't hold up my end of the deal."

"Okay."

Neteyam doesn't wait for his father to lead the conversation anymore, opting to focus on different issues. Money was the easiest to solve.  "I— I don't want to work in my final year, dad. I don't think it's possible. I just want to focus on studying and I kind of want to sleep more. If it's okay."

Jake bites back his tears and nods furiously. "Of course, it's okay, Neteyam. And I promise I won't make you do any more stupid hobbies that you don't want to."

"I like archery." Neteyam fiddles with his fingers. He suddenly flushes. "Uh, but dad, this is a completely different topic."

"Yes?" Jake perks up.

They stop walking. 

Neteyam swallows and turns to fully face his father. "Do you think it's okay if I marry Ao'nung one day?"

Jake, not expecting this question, flushes bright red. He looks like he might faint any moment. "How soon is this one day?"

Neteyam bites his lips. "Probably when we graduate." 

"That's a little fast, don't you think?" 

Neteyam sighs. "Dad, I've liked him for almost all of high-school. And you've always implied that he likes me, too."

Jake, knowing he cannot actually deny his adult son to make this choice, nods slowly. "This must mean he treats you right. Exactly how you want it?" 

Neteyam grins and Jake Sully openly swoons at his son's bunny teeth. He tugs Neteyam into a hug, rubbing his back. 

"He remembers all my favourite things," Neteyam murmurs tenderly, hugging Jake back. "He's funny, too, especially when he pretens to hate Lo'ak. You do know they're not serious, right?"

Jake chuckles at the mental image of the two boys fighting, pulling hair and throwing cucumbers. "I know." 

"Ao'nung has really grown up," Neteyam gushes, heart fluttering in his chest. He likes this feeling, like being able to tell his father these things. "He's always there for me. He takes notes for me when I can't make it to class."

"I'm glad he makes you happy." Jake pats Neteyam's shoulder fondly. "You have my blessing for whenever you decide to marry him." 

Neteyam allows a cheeky grin. "I promised myself to him with a gummy ring."

Jake has to take a deep breath to prevent himself from openly cooing again, absolutely endeared by the young male standing in front of him.

 

Notes:

The babies are gonna be in their own flat in the next part finally sksjfjdn

Chapter 31: Never Have I Ever

Summary:

Tried to squeeze this chapter out before the weekend bc I suspect I'll be too busy to write ✍️ 🙃
Which is why it's a lil short but I wrote it in like 30 mins lmfao my mind is numb

---

Moving in together was one of their best choices; Lo'ak calms down considerably after he gets to sleep in the same room as Tsireya. 

Neteyam overhears Rotxo making a bet with Ao'nung on how long the two will be able to keep themselves from taking a tumble in the sheets. Neteyam whacks them both on the back of their heads.  

The flat slowly becomes their designated hangout spot. 

Tsireya often has her little group of friends over, sometimes for the whole week, but nobody minds the three girls, they aren't intruding (though, Neteyam does notice his toothpaste running out suspiciously fast). 

Rotxo comes over between classes even if the apartment is farther away than the dormitory. Ao'nung feels sorry for leaving him behind, but he doesn't want to live with more than three other people. This is already a little overwhelming at times. Rotxo doesn't mind rooming with a stranger — they quickly become friends with one another.  Neteyam remembers the name Rotxo said. His new roommate is called Naìtvì. 

Neteyam knows he is a surfer too, but he's never met the other male — doesn't plan to either. 

Since Rotxo comes over, so does Kiri, which means Spider is often lounging on their sofa too. 

Neteyam thinks this is perfect. 

Lo'ak loves the freedom that comes with living on his own, without parents or dorm supervisors breathing down his neck. Neteyam does too. 

They have little game-nights. Tonight is one of those nights. 

They're sitting in a large circle in the middle of the living room, pillows and blankets scattered between them. Tsireya easily slips into Lo'ak's arms, giggling, red cheeked at they play never have I ever. Most of her fingers stay up, but most of Lo'ak's go down. 

Neteyam smirks softly, eliminating his targets easily. "Never have I ever gotten hard on the beach." 

Rotxo groans in offence and lowers his first finger of the new round alongside Ao'nung, and, to nobody's surprise, Lo'ak. Tsireya's blush deepens when Kiri nudges her, pointing out Lo'ak's hand. 

Neteyam still has all ten of his fingers up even after five rounds of embarrassing questions and a lot of giggling. 

Kiri thinks for a second before she grins. "Never have I ever tried on my mom's dresses!" 

Tsireya pouts, lowering her finger. Her sour face lights up when Neteyam and Lo'ak frown deeply, lowering their fingers too. "You've both tried on your mom's dresses?!" 

Lo'ak rolls his eyes. "Who do you think plays dress up with Tuk." 

Neteyam snorts loudly, staring at his brother sitting cross-legged across from him. "Tuk wasn't even home bro. That was like a month ago." 

Kiri bends forward, giggling and slapping her knee. "I can't believe that! Really?" 

Lo'ak claps. "Okay, moving on! Never have I ever slept with someone at a party." 

"Foul!" Neteyam protests but lowers his finger along with Ao'nung, Kiri and Rotxo. It's obvious to everyone that Lo'ak would never say anything to make Tsireya put her own finger down.

"My turn, my turn!" Tsireya grins sweetly, batting her eyelashes at Ao'nung, to which the tall male purses his lips, distrust clear in his eyes. 

Neteyam nudges him playfully, knowing whatever Tsireya is about to say, Ao'nung definitely did. 

"Never have I ever gone to school without underwear." Tsireya giggles as Kiri lowers her finger half-heartedly and side eyes the other girl. 

Ao'nung rolls his eyes and lowers his finger. Lo'ak gags, bending forward for good measure. 

"Dude! That's so gross. You definitely left all your ass particles on the chairs!" 

Neteyam throws a piece of popcorn at his brother's head. "And you sleep without. Your bed is probably growing its on new ecosystem as we speak." 

"Now that was just rude!" Lo'ak whines, hiding his face in Tsireya's neck, nudging her into his lap. 

Rotxo shrugs. He still has a good few fingers left. "Never have I ever given a blow job?" 

"Are you uncertain, love?" Kiri laughs, yet another finger down. She's dangerously close to losing this round. 

Rotxo flushes all the way to his chest. "I'm— I'm asking you all."

Neteyam sighs softly and lowers a finger, blinking in surprise as Tsireya does the same discreetly, to which Lo'ak averts his gaze from her shyly. 

"Never have I ever walked in on my parents," Ao'nung huffs out, pretending to be peeved at Lo'ak, but failing miserably to hide his amusement.  

Lo'ak cringes at a memory and lowers his second to last finger, Kiri copies her and sighs, as if reliving the moment. 

"Kiri?" Lo'ak asks curiously. "What do you mean?" 

The young girl rolls her eyes — so characteristic of her. "What? You think my mom doesn't get any just because my dad isn't in the picture?"

"Rest in peace–" Neteyam blurts out. "Stay safe y'all. Couldn't be me." 

Lo'ak snorts, grabbing a handfull of popcorn and throwing it at his brother. 

"Hey!" Ao'nung barks, throwing some of them right back. "You wanna vacuum?" 

Neteyam ends up winning when Ao'nung, Lo'ak and Kiri get in a competition, purposefully saying things they knew the other has done. 

"Never have I ever drunk so much I threw up all over someone else's bathroom!" Kiri wheezes out as Lo'ak slumps forward in defeat, lowering his last finger. 

"Loser drinks up!" Ao'nung grins, tossing an unopened beer to Lo'ak, who whines when it whacks him in the knee. 

"If this thing explodes in my face because you shook it up, I will make you eat my dirty socks!" Lo'ak threatens Ao'nung, raising a fist menacingly. 

Neteyam stretches his arms up, shirt riding up. Kiri pokes him near the belly button, which currently only has a tiny silver bead in it. 

"Alright, we still need to keep going," Kiri cuts the fight off swiftly. "Someone needs to win."

"Do you guys mind if this gets more personal?" Ao'nung hums out, mischief twinkling in his pale blue eyes.

Tsireya perks up. "Do you mean inappropriate? Bedroom questions and all."

Ao'nung nods. He gets a round of agreements and nods, glancing slyly at Neteyam, making him tense, eyes wide and lips parted. 

"Never have I ever fallen asleep while doing it." 

Neteyam frowns, hiding behind his braids. "Nung!" 

"What? You have." 

Neteyam lowers a finger and ignores the amused giggles bursting out of his friends. Rotxo sighs out in mock agony and does the same, promptly losing. Ao'nung hands him a beer between a fit of laughter. 

"Never have I ever worn someone else's underwear," Tsireya says, leaning back on her arms. 

Kiri sighs. "Aw, come on. This is my last one."

"I couldn't have known!" Tsireya insists, taking the beer from Ao'nung and handing it to Kiri. 

If, for no other reason, Neteyam wants to win so he doesn't have to drink beer of all things. So, he decides to get creative even at the expense of his own dignity. "Never have I ever blown a load onto someone's face." 

Lo'ak chokes on his beer, muttering incoherently as Tsireya pats his back. Ao'nung loses, smile falling as he blushes so hard, Neteyam worries he might faint. 

Now, only Tsireya and Neteyam remain. Ao'nung sips his loser's drink bitterly. Neteyam has a good few fingers left, but only one more than Tsireya. 

"We're gonna be here all night!" Kiri moans, lying down so her head rests on Rotxo's lap comfortably. 

Tsireya blushes, trying hard to think up something creative. "Never have I ever lied about my age." 

Neteyam grins, bunny teeth hanging over his lower lip slightly.  He scrunches his nose and laughs quietly. "I haven't. Nice try though. Never have I tried to leave a store forgetting to pay."

"How did you know!" Tsireya gasps. She's got four fingers left out of ten now. Neteyam still has six.

"Lucky guess." 

"Never have I done it in a car." 

"That wasn't a guess," Neteyam whines, reaching over to whack Lo'ak when his little brother fakes gagging again. 

"No," Tsireya admits, smirking. "It wasn't." 

They fight back and forth with innocent questions for a good ten minutes before Neteyam decides to use his little brother's confessions as a weapon against Tsireya.  

Lo'ak averts his gaze innocently and ducks out of Tsireya's way when she realises her secrets have been spilled to Neteyam.  She's laughing. 

Now as they have only one finger remaining each, Neteyam smiles innocently, making Tsireya glare playfully at him, daring him. 

He dares. 

"Never have I ever let someone go down on me in public." 

"Lo'ak!" Tsireya whines out, losing. "You told him about that?" 

Ao'nung bursts out laughing at his baby sister's mystery. "As if you didn't tell me about it as well, Tsireya." 

Neteyam leans back smugly, smiling softly at his friends. He laces his fingers with Ao'nung's loosely and leans over to peck his shoulder. 

Ao'nung kisses the top of his head, grinning against the dark braids.

This was home.

Notes:

Wanted to let yall into the weekend with pleasant vibes 😌 ✨️

Chapter 32: Birthday Balloons

Summary:

Happy Monday 😊💗

---

Neteyam wakes up, wrapped in Ao'nung's arms, neck sore from the way it was hanging awkwardly to the side, pillow on the floor. 

Neteyam sits slowly, looking down at Ao'nung to find his pale blue eyes watching him fondly. 

"Morning, sunshine." Ao'nung stretches his legs out, groaning softly at the pleasant tingles this sends up his body. 

Neteyam smiles, eyes squinting. "Morning, Nungie." 

Ao'nung sits slowly, placing a hand on Neteyam's cheek, caressing the skin there with his thumb. "How are you?" 

Neteyam blushes. "I'm alright, Nung. I think I'll have a nice day." 

Ao'nung nods, satisfied by the answer and swooning when Neteyam leans into his hand, cheek squishing cutely. The surfer wonders if Neteyam is even aware how adorable he is. 

Neteyam yawns softly, entire face scrunching up as he does so, stretching his arms out and groaning softly. Ao'nung watches, mind hazy with thoughts of all the less than appropriate things he wants to do to Neteyam. He doesn't, because they have things to do. 

Mainly, it's Rotxo's birthday and they want to celebrate together. Tsireya has invited her girlies, and Rotxo did mention he invited his new roommate and another friend (if it's okay with the ones who live in the flat). Nobody complained. At this point, they already had a guest drawer set up in the bathroom with not only spare towels but lady items and razors and even other things. Though,  the only thing that's been used so far are the lady items. 

When they make it to the living room — after a good fifteen minutes of kissing and tumbling around — they notice that Kiri had already arrived alongside two of Tsireya's friends. Together, the four of them were blowing colourful balloons.

"Where's fruit basket?" Ao'nung yawns, grabbing a balloon and pelting it at Tsireya's head.

It sticks to her hair, refusing to fall, which makes her giggle for a second before she registers what Ao'nung just said. "Don't be mean! She's not here yet because she's scared of balloons." 

Ao'nung snorts. "She's gonna be terrified when she gets here." 

Tsireya scoffs, swatting at her brother's arm. "No, she won't! She's only scared of blowing them because she doesn't want them to pop in her face." 

"Yeah," Payìva hums, trying a red balloon carefully, wild hair sticking up from all the electricity the balloons cause. "It really hurts when they hit you in the mouth. It's a valid fear to have." 

Ao'nung shrugs. He doesn't think so, but he's not going to argue when he knows he is outnumbered.  Tsireya and her friends are close; if you offend one, you offend all of them. It was annoying. Ao'nung just wanted to be a little mean. 

Neteyam senses his need to cause mischief and promptly stuffs a bag of letter balloons in his hands. Ao'nung whines in protest. It falls on deaf ears.

"Blow these for me will you, Nung?" Neteyam asks sweetly, blinking up at Ao'nung. 

Ao'nung glares down at the balloons as if offended by them. He was. "Why do I have to do it? Why not Lo'ak?"

"Lo'ak is busy," Neteyam murmurs, smirking coyly. "I'll reward you later. Only if you do a good job though. I don't want half empty balloons." 

Ao'nung reluctantly tears the packaging open and pulls out a balloon. It's big a gold and the letters together will definitely spell out happy birthday. Ao'nung wants to set something on fire — probably the balloons. 

He holds back on his anger a little. Ao'nung hates chores but he'll do this for his best friend.

Then, someone knocks on the door. 

Neteyam goes to open it and his smile is so bright, Ao'nung almost bursts into flames with jealousy as he watches a large, obviously metcayinan male wrap his arms around Ao'nung's pretty boyfriend right in front of his face. Then, to Ao'nung's displeasure, another obviously metcayinan male does the same. 

These must be Rotxo's friends. 

Ao'nung scowls and pushes a balloon into his mouth, blowing with all his might just so he doesn't have to say hello. Tsireya eyes him before turning to his friends, whispering to them before they all burst into giggles.  

The two hunks enter the apartment, glancing around curiously. They are the same height, but the one with braided buns is obviously stronger. Maybe even stronger than Ao'nung.  

Neteyam smiles happily up at them and Ao'nung nearly chokes when he realises they definitely know each other. 

He turns to Tsireya and wretches the balloon from his lips. "Who are those?"

His sister gives him an unimpressed scowls and shares a look with Rey'ka. She pelts a balloon at Ao'nung's head, but it doesn't make it across the distance. "The one with his hair down is Naìtvì. That's his friend, Kaey. They're responsible for bringing the cake."

Ao'nung squints. "Friend?" 

Tsireya sighs and rolls her eyes. "They're engaged."

"What?!" Ao'nung whisper-yells, shuffling closer. "How old are they?"

"Twenty-three," Payìva offers, tying another balloon. 

Neteyam takes a box from Kaey, grinning brightly at the kind-eyed stranger.  

"What's their major?"

"Ask them yourself, moron–" Tsireya grumbles, shuffling away. 

Ao'nung does end up mingling with the two native men, surprised by how easy it is to slip into conversation with them. Neteyam lingers from time to time, sneaking touches, caressing Ao'nung's hand or arm (it does not go unnoticed). 

Naìtvì leans against a wall, smiling down at Ao'nung. Ao'nung is unused to feeling smaller than anyone else but his father. 

"So, what year are you in?" 

Ao'nung purses his lips. "Second. You?"

"Second in bachelors?" Naìtvì's warm voice rings out pleasantly. Ao'nung nods before rhe stranger continues talking again. "That's nice. I just started my masters." 

"What are you studying?" Ao'nung asks quietly. 

Kaey has taken over blowing the balloons. He's almost done and looks a little purple. 

"Environmental science," Naìtvì replies, smile crinkling the corners of his pale green eyes. 

Ao'nung falls silent at the information. He cannot help but ghost his eyes between the two men, taking in their features. They are both so calm and collected — Ao'nung feels long repressed emotions bubble to the surface, but he tries to hammer them back down underground. It works. Mostly. He does feel a little awkward around the two other gay men. He's never met anyone else with his own interests. It makes him feel scared and a little uncomfortable. 

Naìtvì senses his discomfort and lays a gentle hand on Ao'nung's shoulder. "Hey, are you good?"

Ao'nung purses his lips. Nobody can know he struggles with his sense of identity. "Fine. What does he study?" 

Naìtvì lets his arm fall. "Kaey's going to be an interpetor."

"What language?" 

Kaey inhales deeply and ties the last letter balloon firmly. "Spanish, Russian and Na'vi." 

Ao'nung tries not to show that he impressed. He fails. "That's a lot of languages."

Naìtvì chuckles. "Kae is a language freak. He speaks French, too. And German." 

Neteyam pops up next to them, scaring the living daylight out of Ao'nung. 

"Sprichst du Deutsch?" Neteyam asks swiftly, eyes twinkling in absolute delight. 

Ao'nung seethes secretly. 

Kaey and Neteyam exchange an increasingly funnier conversation in a language Ao'nung doesn't speak (neither does Naìtvì).

"I know it's not my place to ask," the friendly stranger begins softly as he stands next to Ao'nung. "But why do you look so angry whenever he speaks to someone who isn't a relative of his or yours?" 

Ao'nung freezes. "I do not—"

"Please," Naìtvì whispers, turning to face him fully. "I'm not trying to offend you. I can just see you're struggling with something."

Ao'nung frowns and his shoulders slump. "No reason. Really. I'm just in a bad mood." 

"Why?" 

Ao'nung curses under his breath. "Because he could always find someone better."

Neteyam hears them, so he turns away from Kaey, who steps to the side to give them privacy. Naìtvì lingers for just a second longer. 

"Nungie," Neteyam murmurs, taking Ao'nung's hand in his. "Why would you say that? I don't want anyone else. Never will." 

Ao'nung crenches his eyes shut, trying to ignore the burn behind them.

Notes:

My mother: you didn't study this weekend!!😡😡
Also my mother on Saturday morning: you are banned from studying at home during the weekend!!
🤡

 

네테이얌을 좋아해요 ㅎㅎ

Chapter 33: Vodka and Whiskey

Summary:

Is truth or dare their signature game? Yes 😌

Notes:

Missed writing Ao'nung being annoyed by the world

---

Ao'nung ends up lingering around Naìtvì and Kaey for most of the night. Not long after their conversation, Tsireya's third and last friend, fruit basket, arrives with more snacks and drinks, panting from carrying everything across the whole city. 

Lo'ak takes most of the bags from her, Neteyam coming to her aid as well — Ao'nung doesn't, because he doesn't like that he has no idea what her name is. He makes a mental note to ask around.

When Rotxo arrives, they all sing for him, starting him into a fit of giggles and flustered stuttering. Kiri is the first to go to him, bringing over the cake with a large sparkler in the middle, grinning at her little ocean boy's blushing face and shy fumbling.

He blows the candles once the sparkler dies down and smiles for the pictures Lo'ak and Tsireya are taking. 

Neteyam smiles at his baby brother, endeared by how invested he is in taking the perfect picture of Rotxo — one he can post if he wants to — instructions busting out of his mouth as he snaps photo after photo for a good few minutes. 

Tsireya giggles with Payìva and Rey'ka — fruit basket mingles with Kiri, seemingly good friends. 

Ao'nung takes his chance, slipping over to his sister and her friends.

Rey'ka sips on whatever she is drinking (Ao'nung can smell the lack of alcohol in it) as she watches him, a little weary. Payìva is bobbing along to the music, tapping her thighs in rhythm with the beat. 

"What's her name again?" He jerks a thumb in the girl's direction carelessly. 

Tsireya purses her lips, used to his antics but not liking them anyway. "Apple." 

Ao'nung doesn't want to seem to interested, but he also really wants to know because he's just too curious. "That's so bullshit."

"Ao'nung," Tsireya warns, crossing her arms. 

He sighs. "I am not calling someone apple! What's her real name?"

Unlike Tsireya's other two friends (who are now both eyeing him, brows furrowed), the third girl doesn't look any kind of native. Not omaticayan, nor metcayinan. 

"Go ask her yourself, you big oaf." Tsireya turns away from him, facing Payìva and shaking her head.

Ao'nung falters. "Come on—" 

Tsireya does not give in. "If you didn't insult her, we would have told you. It's a cute nickname and it has meaning. You're acting like her name is some sort of top secret information."

"If it's not a secret, then tell me."

"Oh, Great Mother!" Tsireya sighs out, rubbing her forehead. "Were you not listening to a word I just said?" 

Payìva shares a look with Rey'ka. Ao'nung turns back to the tiny freckled thing now chattering with Neteyam and Lo'ak and frowns. He decides to go ask someone else, sauntering away from his sister and her friends. 

He refuses to ask the actual girl herself.

Just as he reaches Kiri and Rotxo, someone starts herding them all together to play a game. Ao'nung groans.

Neteyam comes up to him, sensing his annoyance and taking his hand gently. He squeezes and Ao'nung bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from swooning, tingles shooting all up and down his entire body at the adorable sight in front of him. 

Realistically, he knows that one-eighty-something tall Neteyam is not cute. Cute is not the first word that comes to mind when anyone is asked to describe him. 

Neteyam is dangerously beautiful. 

His pale brown eyes almost look yellow at times and the few freckles scattered along his nose make him look exotic in a way that even his little brother does not. 

Ao'nung swallows thickly, annoyance forgotten as he's tuggedd to sit down in a circle with everyone, Neteyam on one side and fruit basket on the other. He forgets to even scowl her way, too mesmerised by Neteyam as the dark-skinned male's delicate fingers reach up to tuck one of his stray braids back behind his ears. 

Ao'nung accidentally locks eyes with Naìtvì, who is sitting on Neteyam's other side, smiling softly at Ao'nung with a knowing look in his pale green eyes. They stare at each other for a second Naìtvì turns the other way to talk to Kaey and Rotxo.

Ao'nung sighs softly, brain registering that a game of truth or dare has begun — it's their usual game to play whenever they get together (besides never have I ever, but they played that much too recently for anyone to really be interested). 

Ao'nung watches as Lo'ak gets dared to drink vodka mixed with whiskey and iced tea. Ao'nung shudders as he watches and pray to the Great Mother that the younger Sully doesn't end up throwing up all over the bathroom again. 

Then, Lo'ak dares Kiri to take off ant article of clothing that cannot be seen. Her socks are visible, so she settles on her bra (not something she usually wears). 

Ao'nung doesn't miss the way Rotxo gulps, eyes trailing lower for a second. 

Kiri turns to face Kaey. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," the dark-skinned male replies softly, glancing towards Naìtvì. 

"Have you ever been high?" Kiri laughs, cheeks already red from her watermelon cider.

"No." Kaey shakes his head. 

"He's a proper boy!" Lo'ak giggles out, laying halfway across Tsireya's lap. She plays with his hair, amused. 

"Now, you ask someone," Neteyam urges, reaching over Naìtvì to nudge Kaey.

Kaey smiles. "Truth or dare, Neteyam?"

"Oh, me? Dare." 

"Do a back-bend," Kaey hums, leaning against Naìtvì's side. 

Lo'ak snorts loudly, slapping his thigh as he lies around. "He's gonna do one so good!" 

Neteyam glances his brother's way, nose twitching. "Can someone take the drink from him?" 

Kaey reaches over and takes the beer Lo'ak has magically not spilled all over the floor, setting it to the side. The younger Sully brother doesn't even notice, too busy making kissy faces up at Tsireya, who merely places her hand over his face, giggling. 

Neteyam crawls to the middle of the circle slowly to complete his dare.

Ao'nung watches him, eyes half lidded. He's a little buzzed from his own drinks. Kiri has her phone ready as Neteyam kneels, stretching a little. 

Naìtvì whispers something to Kaey, smiling pleasantly before turning back to Neteyam, watching as he slowly lies on his back, planting his hands firmly by his head and pulling his knees up, bare toes pressing into the floor. He pushes away, braids falling in front of his face as he ends up upside down in a simple bridge. 

Neteyam can hear someone cheering (probably Lo'ak) as he slowly shuffles his hands closer to his feet until his fingers almost graze his heels. 

"Holy shit—" Kiri wheezes out as Neteyam lowers himself back onto the ground. "That was amazing!" 

Ao'nung nods along with her words, though she's talking to Rotxo, not him. 

Neteyam shuffles back to his original seat. He turns to Ao'nung (who won't admit that his breath hitched). 

Ao'nung opts for a dare. 

Neteyam thinks for a moment before grabbing an empty bottle. "Spin this. Whoever it lands on, take their shirt off with  your teeth." 

"What if it lands on my sister!" Ao'nung protests weakly, taking the bottle and placing it near the centre of the circle. 

Neteyam takes pity on him. "Fine, if it's your sister you can spin again."

Ao'nung falls silent as he spins the bottle a little too hard, watching it spin quickly. It lands on fruit basket.

She visibly panics. "Ah! I have a boyfriend—" 

Neteyam waves her off. "It's fine, Ri. It's just a dare."

Kiri grins, nose scrunching. "Yes! Come on, Apple. It will be funny."

Ao'nung expected the protests (from anyone else too) so he isn't bothered. The girl seems to calm down too as he moves to sit in front of her. Her face is red and it highlights the greens of her eyes. 

Ao'nung sighs softly and leans down to be eye-level with her hips, where her shirt ends. Ao'nung sighs again and shakes his head, opening his mouth and chomping down on the fabric, trying to tug it up. 

His back cramps uncomfortably as he attempts lifting his head; the shirt is tight and doesn't want to stretch much, if at all.

Ao'nung can hear someone giggling and Lo'ak's laugh is loud too. 

"Come on, Nung," Neteyam grins, voice light and playful.

"Bro, he's struggling! You need to have him practice more—" Lo'ak wheezes out, sitting up. 

Neteyam scoffs. "I like my shirts without teethmarks, thanks."

"There'll be teeth marks!?" Fruit basket squeaks out as her stomach finally comes into view. 

Ao'nung loses his balance, faceplanting right onto her chest. He lets the shirt go and reels back in horror. 

She blinks once, twice, before bursting out laughing, followed by everyone else. Ao'nung groans. He failed the dare. 

"What's my punishment?" Ao'nung whines out, turning to Neteyam. 

The dark-skinned male humms, deep in thought, or at least, pretending to be. "Either you take your shirt off or drink that vodka whisky mix."

Ao'nung simply lies down on the ground, wiggling around painfully more for the other's entertainment than his own actual suffering. "You wish to hurt me!" 

"Nah," Neteyam snorts. "Want another dare?" 

"Give him one, bro!" Lo'ak cheers, sitting up finally and looking around for his missing drink. 

Neteyam shuffles to Lo'ak, giggling amongst each other for a little before they both turn to Ao'nung, shit eating grins on their faces.  

Lo'ak delivers his punishment. "Fake having an orgasm." 

Ao'nung sits up, blinking in confusion. "Now why on earth do you want to see that, baby Sully?" 

Neteyam snorts, covering his mouth. He nudges his brother before turning back to Ao'nung, smiling sweetly and very fakely.

Ao'nung sighs and slumps forward in defeat. "Fine, fine. But no sound effects, you hear me? Fucking menace." 

Neteyam chuckles, flushing a bit as he shuffles back to sit next to Naìtvì. 

Ao'nung frowns, turning to Rotxo. "Phone away, bro—" 

Rotxo smiles innocently at him and makes no move to put his phone away. Ao'nung rolls his eyes, facade of annoyance slipping away as he turns to face his lover, smirking.

Neteyam purses his lips. 

Ao'nung closes his eyes for a moment before opening them only half way, lips parting, tongue flicking over the soft, pinkish skin tenderly before he leans his head back and actually moans. Deep and raspy.

His friends erupt in a fit of shrieks and giggles. Tsireya is grasping onto Lo'ak and Payìva for support, all but screaming at what she's just witnessed. 

Kiri is slapping her knee as she laughs, cheeks bright red. Rotxo slowly puts her phone to the side, wide eyed. 

Neteyam shares a look with Naìtvì, who is smirking down at him.

Kaey nudges them both. "Neteyam is a lucky guy, huh? Getting to see that every night."

Neteyam pushes him playfully to which the large male flops onto his side, almost falling onto Payìva and Rey'ka in his dramatics. 

Naìtvì rolls his eyes in amusement at his fiancé's antics. 

"I need to bleach my eyes!" Lo'ak wheezes out, hiding his face in Tsireya's neck. 

"Let me do it for you!" Ao'nung singsongs, stadning up and stepping to Lo'ak, who squeals and jumps to his feet, jumping out of the way hurriedly.

"Stay back!" He shouts, but he's still laughing. 

Neteyam relaxes and smiles at the chaos he's created. He turns to face Tsireya's friend. "Well, that was fun, wasn't it?"

Eyrina giggles behind her hand, nodding. 

Notes:

Pov
U have random bursts of depression for no reason so u wake up happy and then get fucked halfway through your lesson
Autocorrect changed Neteyam to network lmfao

Chapter 34: Gloomy Day

Summary:

This isn't exactly angsty
But it's a soft kind of sad where Ao'nung gets lost in his thoughts
And then so does Neteyam

---

Sometimes, Neteyam has bad days. 

He knows the moment he wakes up that he won't be fine. He doesn't exactly know why, but he's just plain unhappy those days. 

On these days, it's really easy to hurt his feelings. Even though he tries to hide it, it still eats away at his confidence (and there's not a lot to begin with). 

Ao'nung has issues too. They tear at his heart and ruin everything that he is. 

But for him, turning his bad days around isn't really that hard. He'd seek a little cuddle from Neteyam or a hug from his sister and it would all be alright. 

Except neither are home when he wakes up. 

Neteyam is in class (sad and lonely, though Ao'nung has no idea) and Tsireya is on a little breakfast date with her friends. Happy. 

Ao'nung stays in bed for a good hour after waking up and tries to not feel guilty about it but it's hard. Especially with the way he was raised. 

The bed was reserved for sleeping only. 

Chores and homework took up a lot of his childhood. Though, he was happy then too, with loving parents and a great sister. 

Even as he grows up, his father is still the same caring man and his mother is still his secret-keeper. Tsireya never grows apart from him either and he's gained some friends along the way, especially Rotxo. 

Ao'nung misses living with Rotxo. He would not trade sharing a bed with Neteyam for anything, but he misses his late night heartfelt conversations with the other surfer. 

Ao'nung finally saunters out of bed, hair a poofy mess. He yawns, stretching his arms above his head. He makes his way to the kitchen to find himself a late breakfast, but nothing seems appealing. He gives up after a few short minutes. 

Luckily, his class for the day was cancelled due to illness on the professor's part. Ao'nung cannot help but want to leave all of this studying behind for a while. He likes university, loves the people and even if he hates attending classes, he likes the people he meets and the funny moments when the professor's microphone glitches or the laptop dies in the middle of a presentation. 

Most of all, he likes that one party Neteyam kissed him (amongst other things).

It's been a while since they all went to a party. Ao'nung knows Rotxo sometimes takes Kiri and Tsireya has gone out a few times with her friends, but Ao'nung and Neteyam haven't really been anywhere in a hot minute.

Neteyam is his light. Ao'nung sleeps better when he is around. 

Ao'nung catches himself zoning out in the middle of the kitchen. He sighs tiredly and walks to the living room with a glass of water that he does not end up drinking. Turning the television on does not sound appealing and neither does scrolling on his phone. 

For some reason, Ao'nung is restless. He keeps wiggling his feet and chewing on his lip. 

Ao'nung realises where these feelings are coming from. He does not know why they have come to bother him so. For a long time, he avoided thinking about it, but meeting Naìtvì and Kaey made them resurface. 

There was a time, before Ao'nung even met Neteyam and the rest of the Sully's, when he was younger and not so good at English that he would spend a lot of time online, chatting with strangers. 

Sometimes, it was nice. Sometimes, he would he thirteen, and the stranger on the other side trying to rope photos from him thirty-three. More often than not, he would be bombarded with images he did not want to see. 

And still, he kept going back day after day just to chat when his parents were at work and his sister was busy too. 

It was a hellish cycle of longing for more and yet burning with shame when more was granted. It left him feeling a little empty and a lot used. 

Ao'nung hardly lied about his age; everyone he spoke to back then knew how old he was — maybe he'd be bold and say he was a year older, but he was still a child and they one year did not matter. 

He never told anyone. 

But for a long time, he thought men were gross. Nothing more. And then he met Neteyam and his breath was stolen. It was obvious to him from the start that Neteyam was not interested in the girls of their classes. None of the archery team girls caught his eye either and he was definitely not interested in the girls a year bellow them, or a year above. 

Ao'nung remembers the discreet little pride flag in Neteyam's room at home, pinned to his wall alongside the photos and Polaroids. Ao'nung wishes to be so brave. 

But he cannot he brave for himself — only for Neteyam. He isn't ashamed to walk across campus holding Neteyam's hand — but he is ashamed to decorate his room with flags or quotes.  He knows he doesn't have to, but sometimes he doesn't think he's viewed as anything more than who he loves by society. Ao'nung doesn't know why he cares for what society thinks. Maybe it's because his father is important. And his mother is important. 

He wants to be important too. 

He hopes he will be one day.

 

---

 

Neteyam returns home after class with Lo'ak, both of them a little tired and very much sad.

They're fragile. 

Ao'nung notices their mood, but he too, is too upset to try and cheer them up. Tsireya is in the shower, music turned on. She's going to be in there for a good hour. It's her weekly everything shower. Or so she said. Ao'nung doesn't know what that means.

Neteyam flops down onto the sofa and tugs Lo'ak down with him. 

Ao'nung exhales deeply and curls in on himself under the blanket he brought from his room. He closes his eyes, longing to be left alone. 

Neteyam smiles gently at him, placing a warm hand on his ankle, squeezing in comfort before pulling back and focusing on Lo'ak. 

They talk softly about their day — and whether Lo'ak will still double major next term. The younger Sully isn't sure. The topic of his chosen course would interest him, but he doesn't want to end up in the hospital, not like his big brother. Lo'ak wants to have time to take Tsireya on dates too. 

Like he sees Ao'nung do for Neteyam. 

Neteyam scratches at his neck, retreating into himself. Sometimes, he feels unwelcome in this apartment, like he is doing something wrong by being here — but most of all, he feels unwelcome in his own life. 

He thinks back to his grades, close to perfect, and to all the archery competitions he's won. It doesn't feel like that was him.

Neteyam feels like the boy who had such a good relationship with all his teachers is someone else entirely. He was the one who sat in those classrooms taking the exams. He was the one who got perfect scores on his English spoken exam when he was nineteen.

And yet it all feels so far away — so very far away.

Ao'nung peeks at Neteyam from over the blanket his nose is covered by. He can see the way the dark-skinned male's delicate fingers tremble slightly as he runs them through Lo'ak's braids, nuzzling against his baby brother. 

Ao'nung relaxes. 

This day too has come to an end. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better and they can be happy again. 

Neteyam is the first to get up and go to bed. Ao'nung trails after him.

Lo'ak does not have the strength to make jokes about them and their nightly shenanigans, not like he usually does. He settles into Ao'nung's blanket with Tsireya to watch a film.

Tsireya is not sad but she can sense the gloomines seeping into the air. She lets it. Just this once. 

Sometimes, it's okay to feel.

 

Notes:

Might update slower bc I'm working on a Neteyam/fem!oc fic as well as a lil smut commission and I've got a really important exam next week

Chapter 35: Midnight Rain

Summary:

About to combust from feeling so I wrote smut
Conclusion: if emotionally constipated, write porn
It kinda helps lol

Notes:

I did say I might be slow to update like
A few hours ago
But then I needed to vent
Chapters with plot however might be slower lol

---

Neteyam moans softly. 

Ao'nung wraps his arms around Neteyam's waist, pulling him against him, closer. Neteyam is flushed with desire. 

"Ao'nung," Neteyam whined out, unashamed, sitting up in his lap, straddling him. Neteyam swallows thickly, biting his lower lip. 

Ao'nung grasps at his hips. 

It's the middle of the night. 

Ao'nung smirks at the soft blush dusting Neteyam's cheeks, unashamed at the bulge denting his grey sweatpants. He's overrun by desire for the surfer boy lying under him. 

Ao'nung flushes, taking a shaky breath. Slowly, he pulls Neteyam's sweatpants down, nudging him to lie down so he can pull them off fully. Neteyam lifts his hips, already panting. He stretches out, lifting his arms above his head as Ao'nung tugs his boxers off, leaving him naked from the waist down. 

Ao'nung leans over him, settling between his legs, grinning at the obvious erection staining the bottom of Neteyam's oversized T-shirt. 

He grasps Neteyam's thigh tightly, fingers digging into the toned flesh, making the dark-skinned male spread his legs further as he kneeled on his lap, gasping as though Ao'nung was stealing the very air he's breathing. 

Ao'nung swallows thickly at the sight, mesmerised. He pushes Neteyam's shirt up, hand running over his toned stomach. 

Ao'nung traces Neteyam's entrance with one of his fingertips, teasing him, before slowly pushing it inside, bumping it slowly. He knows it drives Neteyam mad, because the stretch is barely even there. It's why he's doing it dry. Just this one. 

Neteyam shudders, fingers tangling in Ao'nung's T-shirt, tugging him down for a kiss. Ao'nung is still fully dressed. Neteyam does not want this night to end.

Ao'nung kisses him languidly. Slowly, he pulls his finger back enough to be able to slip another one inside, grinning against Neteyam's mouth when he feels the shorter male take a deep, shuddering breath. 

Ao'nung curls his fingers, pressing firm fingertips against Neteyam prostate, assaulting the little bundle of nerves. Neteyam swallows down a moan.

They have to be quiet.

"Do that again-" he breathes out eventually as Ao'nung pulls his fingers out almost fully. He stretches his fingers out before pushing them back in, fingertips grazing the spot again, driving Neteyam up the wall as he continuously rubs against the nerves.

Neteyam's hips buck, thighs tense, squeezing Ao'nung's hips as he tries to close them, but cannot, because the surfer is kneeling between his legs, staring down at him shamelessly as he leans back to watch his fingers disappear into his willing body. 

Neteyam moans quietly, cheeks dusting with colour. 

Ao'nung drags his fingers in and out of Neteyam lazily. He knows he cannot add a third without any lube. It would hurt. Ao'nung doesn't want to hurt Neteyam. Never.

Ao'nung glances down at Neteyam, hooded eyes lingering on his lips, slick from kissing.Ao'nung pulls his fingers out, sneaking a peek at the gaping ring of muscles of Neteyam's hole before slowly sitting back, making Neteyam lift his head curiously, clenching around nothing. 

The surfer reaches up beside Neteyam's head, hand disappearing under their pillow only to return with lube.

Ao'nung intends to spend a lot of time playing with the archer. Hours even before giving him what he wants. What they both want. 

Ao'nung's mind blanks when Neteyam presses a kiss to the side of his throat, tugging him down by the shoulders at the same time as he lifts his upper body. He tilts his head and exposes his neck a little more. Neteyam nibbles gently on the skin, then sucks. He doesn't pull away until there is a noticeable bitemark decorating Ao'nung's tan skin.

"Tey," he moans softly.

Neteyam smiles softly against his warm skin before lying back down. His arms are limp by his side, fingers tangling along the blankets but not really holding on to them. 

Ao'nung leans down, scooting back and kissing Neteyam's knee. He reaches for the lube tangled into their sheets and coats his fingers generously. 

They both like to get a little messy. 

Neteyam watches him, blinking slowly. He's aroused, member lying flat against his stomach. His head rolls to the side and he grabs his own thighs to keep his legs spread and pulled up so Ao'nung can easily see everything. 

Neteyam does not say or do anything, he only blinks lazily up at Ao'nung from the corner of his eyes, a small ghost of a smile on his face. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. It feels like forever has passed before Ao'nung finally pushes his two fingers back into Neteyam's willing body. 

The archer sighs in relief at the feeling of being filled again. Neteyam shuts his eyes, body feverish with desire.

He needs more — They're playing a game. He does not intend to lose. 

Ao'nung touches his hips tenderly with his free hand, fingertips ghosting over the kiss of white skin on Neteyam's hip, unable to tear his eyes from the pattern. It looks a little like a clowd. Or maybe a tiger's stripe. 

Neteyam notices Ao'nung staring and flushes, biting his lower lip. 

Ao'nung presses his fingers as far as they can go and curls them, drawing a gasp from Neteyam again. And again. Repeating the motion. 

Neteyam arches his back, reaching up to grasp Ao'nung's arm, urging him. Ao'nung smirks softly, pushing in a third finger swiftly.  

Ao'nung reaches down and takes his member in his hand, squeezing gently, drawing a moan from Neteyam. 

As Ao'nung jerks him off in time with movements of his fingers, Neteyam clings to him, gasping with each jerk of Ao'nung's hand.  Neteyam doesn't quite remember it feeling so intense. Ao'nung's thumb runs over the tip of his erection, drawing a moan as he smears precum around the length. 

Neteyam's body is wrecked by shivers. 

Ao'nung strokes him a few times without pumping his fingers, only stretching them out. He wonders if he can add another, really curious to see if Neteyam can handle him. 

Neteyam's mouth goes dry at all the attention, curling and uncurling his toes. He desperately wants more. He needs it. But if he asks for it, he loses this game, and that, he cannot allow himself to do.

Ao'nung knows Neteyam's inner battle because it's the same as his own. They're both too good at staying in control. 

Neteyam's face contorts in pleasure as Ao'nung focuses on the tip of his erection, squeezing gently — at the same time, he presses his fingers right into Neteyam's sweet spot, not removing them, rubbing the bundle of nerves repeatedly, mercilessly.

Neteyam moans softly, though he wants to scream. His cheeks burn and his eyes water at the intense feelings mingling in his body, wrecking him until he cannot even form a single coherent thought. 

Ao'nung lets go of his member, grasping his hip instead as he stares down at this fingers buried to the knuckles in Neteyam. He pulls them out a little until his pinky finger can slip in, still wet and shiny with lube. 

Neteyam's breath hitches, entire body tensing at the feeling.

Ao'nung smirks, taking his sweet time, not moving the four fingers inside his lover at all. His fingertips don't even come close to ghosting over his sweet spot. Teasing. 

It's so delicious that Neteyam cannot help but cry out. He slaps a hand over his mouth, clenching his eyes shut. Eywa, Lo'ak won't let him live this down if they wake him. He grabs Ao'nung's wrist, whimpering.

Ao'nung coos, tugging Neteyam's hand away so he can get back to bumping his fingers, pressing into his sweet spot each time his knuckles catch on the archer's rim. 

Neteyam moans, still longing for more. His voice is muffled, jaw tense as his teeth press firmly together. 

Ao'nung wishes they could be loud. He loves how wrecked Neteyam sounds every time he end up under him. 

After many torturous minutes, Ao'nung pulls his fingers out, unashamed as he wipes the left over lube on the sheets. Neteyam sighs, relaxing, all but melting into the sheets. 

He doesn't want Ao'nung to take him just yet, but still, he sits up to undress the taller male. Peeling away layer after layer.

They register the sound of rain tapping against the window in a gentle rhythm. 

Neteyam smiles softly as Ao'nung tugs him into a hug, naked and flush against one another. 

Ao'nung whispers in his ear — sweet nothings that have Neteyam melting further against him, nails raking over his back. He presses a tiny kiss to the spot behind Ao'nung's ear, laughing fondly when the taller male shivers. 

One glance at their bedside table confirms Neteyam's growing suspicions. It is midnight. Exactly. On the dot. 

Ao'nung follows his gaze and grins, nudging Neteyam until they are lying on their sides, face to face. 

For a while, they only stare at one another, fingertips ghosting over strong arms, ribs and shoulders tenderly. Then, Neteyam stretches, tilting over onto his back, settling down comfortably. He glances at Ao'nung, smiling. 

Ao'nung rolls onto him, chests pressed flush together. Neteyam's hand disappears under the pillows, returning with a small, slightly squished box. 

Ao'nung takes it from him. His weight presses Neteyam down into the matress, making the smaller male breathe just a little harder. 

Neteyam does not want to fight for dominance — doesn't want to be in control in any way, shape, or form. He longs to be guided. 

Ao'nung does not. He likes knowing that Neteyam would let him do anything. He rolls the condom on and reaches for the lube, lathering himself generously.  

Ao'nung kisses him hurriedly. He lowers himself, reaching between their bodies to line himself up against Neteyam's entrance, rubbing his tip against his rim, teasing. His tip catches on his rim, drawing breathless moans from both of them. 

Neteyam is panting, nothing but Ao'nung's name on his lips. 

Ao'nung grips himself, making sure he's lined up against Neteyam's entrance properly. He waits a breath until he feels Neteyam's hands on his hips, tugging on him, urging him to come closer without ever uttering a word.

Ao'nung pushes into Neteyam's body, stretching him open deliciously. Neteyam has his legs spread, but he makes no attempt to keep them up and bent, letting them lazily cage Ao'nung. 

Ao'nung bottoms out, hips pressed flush against Neteyam's backside. 

Their feverish dance slows down. 

Ao'nung rocks into Neteyam slowly, and it does not matter that the clock says it is almost one in the morning. Lightning lights up the room for a moment before a gentle darkness falls over them again. There is no thunder with this storm. 

Neteyam's quiet gasps mingle with the pitterpatter of the rain against the window and the windowsills. 

Ao'nung's face hides away in the crook of his neck, nuzzling the soft skin as he moves with a steady, languid rhythm. Neteyam does not urge him to pick up the pace. 

Somehow, amongst all the desire swirling between them, they are calm. Gentle. One. 

Neteyam rakes his nails over Ao'nung's back. Ao'nung shudders, hips stilling for a moment before he is back to rocking them into Neteyam's pliant form. 

The sounds he lets out are the sweetest thing Ao'nung has ever had the pleasure of hearing. 

Neteyam's breaths come out as little whispers of pleasure.

Ao'nung feels nothing but pleasure. 

It's all there is. Nothing else. Only the pleasure of two bodies mingling, joint. 

Ao'nung inhales sharply as Neteyam grabs him by the hips and tugs. He yerks his hips forward into Neteyam, watching the other's head fall back, lips parted in a silent whine as he pushes in to the hilt.

"Ao'nung—" He whimpers, voice deep and raspy,

Neteyam clenches around him on purpose, making Ao'nung let out a loud moan of his own.

Ao'nung slams into him again and again, hitting his prostate each time he presses in.

Neteyam's legs shake. He's dripping onto his own stomach.

Ao'nung's body is shining with a thin layer of sweat. His cheeks are flushes and his hair is a mess. So is Neteyam's. His eyes roll back as Ao'nung pounds into him — The surfer presses into the smaller body repeatedly, rocking Neteyam forward with each thrust, drawing moans.

Neteyam wraps his legs around Ao'nung hips, pleasure bursting in his core. His release is rapidly nearing and he's not even touching himself. He feels full, but it's a nice kind of fullness.

Ao'nung murmurs loving words to him; Neteyam does not say or do anything, he only blinks lazily up at Ao'nung, a small ghost of a smile on his face. 

Neteyam's hands slip down to his legs, he massages Ao'nung's thighs, eyes barely open. Ao'nung moans softly in his ear. He hides his face in the crook of Neteyam's neck.

Ao'nung can feel Neteyam's belly-button piercing against his own stomach and shivers. He tangles his fingers in Neteyam's hair and tugs him up into a heated kiss.

"Tey," Ao'nung whispers. He does not expect an answer and he does not get one, Neteyam too far gone in his haze to form coherent words. 

Ao'nung pulls back slowly until only his tip is inside. He waited a second before pushing back in slowly. He pulls back again and jerks his hips forward into Neteyam's body, watching the other's head fall back, lips parted in a loud gasp. Ao’nung feels like the air from his lungs is slowly being stolen. 

"I'm close—" Neteyam whines out into the night.

Ao’nung presses a kiss to Neteyam’s shoulder before slowly parting his lips, teeth sinking into Neteyam’s skin, though never breaking it. The pain mingles with Neteyam's pleasure. 

Neteyam clenches around him on purpose, making Ao'nung pause, nearly toppling over from the overwhelming tightness around him. He pulls back before snapping his hips forward, making Neteyam moan sharply. He grasps at Ao'nung's shoulders tightly, trying to find anything that may help him ground himself.

There's nothing to stop the waves of pleasure that wash over him.

Neteyam spills onto his own stomach, his tongue darts out to wet his lips and shudders wreck his entire being, eyes clenching shut. Somehow, he stays silent during it all, the only sound coming from his are soft breaths.  

Ao'nung's orgasm washes over him moments later, hips not stilling even for a second as he rides it out. Neteyam lets him, but he cannot help the whimpers that escape the cage of his teeth at the overstimulation. 

Gasping, Ao'nung's hips still finally. He takes a moment to just breathe, eyes trailing over Neteyam's blissed out features. 

After a while, Ao'nung pulls out slowly.

Neteyam moans softly at the feeling, toes curling. He closes his legs as Ao'nung slips away to throw their used condom aside somewhere nobody will accidentally find it.

The surfer comes back to bed.

Ao’nung lies on his side, pulling Neteyam against him, holding the back of his head as they cling to each other, breathless, chests heaving. One of Neteyam’s legs rests against Ao'nung's hip. 

Neteyam snuggles closer, wincing as his cooled release smears between them. It's well passed one now, they cannot shower. 

Ao'nung cannot find a tissue, so he uses his shirt to wipe them both clean. He yawns as he does so, nose scrunching up. 

Neteyam reaches up, caressing his cheek with his delicate fingers, love shining in his eyes. His body still tingles. He inhales deeply, filling his nose with Ao'nung's saltwater scent.

It luls him to sleep; Neteyam doesn't resist.

Notes:

I really wanna rant but it's too personal lmfao
I can't deal with myself sometimes but its ok

Chapter 36: Little Brother, Big Nuisance

Summary:

Can I ever get to class in time? No

Notes:

Enjoy me stalling while I think up a plot

---

Neteyam sits in class, lips annoyingly dry. He keeps chewing on them until Ao'nung hands him some lip oil wordlessly.

Ao'nung sits next to him on one side, jotting down most of the things the professor is saying, lower lip sucked into his mouth as he scribbles with a dark blue pen. Neteyam tilts his head, eyeing the pen. It has Getting things done printed on it in white.

It's late. The class started at six in the afternoon and it is ninety minutes long. There's still a good twenty minutes left. Neteyam yawns, leaning his head on Ao'nung's shoulder, nuzzling against his warmth. His sleepiness makes him feel a little cold. 

Neteyam hears giggling from behind them and turns his head, peering at two girls a few rows back, who he catches whispering about them. 

They freeze in place when they notice him blinking slowly at them. 

Ao'nung glances down at Neteyam, watching as he stares their classmates down, entertained. Ao'nung knows the girls. They're kind and most likely merely find them cute. 

Neteyam's nose twitches before he turns back to the front, refusing to lift his head. Ao'nung decides to wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. Neteyam nuzzles closer as a soft shiver rushes up his spine. 

One of Neteyam's yawns rubs off on him. Ao'nung sets his pen aside. Whatever biology nonsense the professor is trying to teach them falls on deaf ears as Ao'nung focuses on his sleepy sweetheart leaning against him, half asleep. He bites his lip, trying not to swoon. Neteyam doesn't notice him, rubbing at his eyes; Ao'nung watches the delicate hand — the skin is dry, but it doesn't seem to bother Neteyam much, if at all.

Neteyam looks ready to fall asleep. Ao'nung nudges him. Neteyam shuffles closer again, trying to ignore him. He's doing an awful job at faking indifference. Ao'nung can see his Adam's apple bob as Neteyam swallows, cheeks just a little flushed.

Ao'nung murmurs in his ear. "Let's go home, Tey."

Neteyam nods, tugging the sleeves of his sweater over his hands. "There's only fifteen minutes left though."

"That's exactly how long it takes to walk home," Ao'nung whispers back, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He hears a soft giggle from behind them. 

Neteyam nods again — Ao'nung is beginning to think Neteyam is barely registering his words. Instead of trying to convince him, the surfer puts their things away with one hand, trying to keep from jostling Neteyam too much. 

Neteyam yawns again, nose scrunching cutely. Ao'nung grins in amusement and stands, tugging Neteyam with him, lacing their fingers as they walk out, right by the giggly girls. 

Ao'nung winks at them.

Neteyam doesn't even notice the shenanigans, following after Ao'nung in a sleepy haze as they make their way out of the building, then home. They walk through a little park, though it is empty, enjoying the calm atmosphere. 

Lo'ak and Tsireya are already home, laughing around in the kitchen playfully as they try to make pancakes. Every time Lo'ak tries to flip them, he folds them in half by accident instead, to which Tsireya only laughs. She doesn't seem to mind his clumsiness — Ao'nung hopes it stays that way. 

He doesn't want the same thing that Tsireya found endearing once to become a trait she grows annoyed by when they are older. 

Ao'nung greets them, nudging Neteyam to their room, shoes still on and everything. Neteyam doesn't quite like the idea of shoes inside the apartment, but he's genuinely too sleepy to fight Ao'nung on this.

They sit down in the bed, Neteyam leaning heavily against Ao'nung's warm body. 

Ao'nung frowns slightly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Neteyam murmurs quietly. "I'm just tired."

"What's got you so tired?" Ao'nung asks, placing a hand on Neteyam's cheek, caressing the skin gently. He can tell Neteyam is not telling him something. 

Neteyam hesitates — in his sleepy delirium, he sighs and, while stifling a yawn, begins mumbling under his breath.

"Hey," Ao'nung chides gently, making his lift his head with a finger under his chin. "I can't hear you."

"I'm just stressed." Neteyam pulls away so he can look down again, hiding his face in Ao'nung's T-shirt. 

Ao'nung hums in sympathy and wraps his arms around the smaller male, nudging him closer and holding him in comfort. 

Neteyam lets out a breath in relief and sags against Ao'nung's form. 

"Are you actually sleepy?" Ao'nung asks quietly. 

Neteyam purses his lips before shaking his head. "No. I couldn't sleep even if I tried."

"You keep yawning," Ao'nung points out, kissing the top of Neteyam's head. "Are you sure about that?"

Neteyam lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head, biting back yet another one of the mentioned yawns. His whole body aches from archery practice and even his head hurts a little, vision blurred by stress. 

"I'm exhausted, Nung." Neteyam sits up a little straighter and crosses his legs. He whines when he realises he's still wearing shoes, tugging them off as if they personally offended him and his bedsheets.  

"Wanna take a shower?" 

Neteyam pauses, lips pursed in a pout at the thought of having to move. "No, you go ahead." 

"I meant together," Ao'nung grins, leaning back on his arms once he too kicked his shoes off, wiggling his toes, cracking them. 

Neteyam snorts, amusement dancing in his eyes. He lets his pale brown gaze trail down Ao'nung's body before shrugging, pretending to be entirely uninterested. "I don't know, Nung. I'm really tired."

Ao'nung places a hand on his chest, smirking coyly. "You're a bad liar."

Neteyam lets himself be pushed on his back, hair spreading out around his head like a dark halo, beads clinking together softly. Ao'nung leans over his, smiling down at the tanned male. 

Neteyam flicks his tongue over his lower lip, trying to keep from smiling himself. He doesn't resist when Ao'nung tugs his clothes off (they never make it to the shower). 

Ao'nung trails his hands all over Neteyam's body, nails raking over the patterns on his back, eyes lingering on the pierced belly button.

The little golden piercing taunts Ao'nung, twinkling in the low light, tainting the innocent stretch of Neteyam's skin with a type of sin that sets Ao'nung on fire. 

Ao'nung is obsessed with the man lying in front of him, completely blissed out, chest heaving, body flushed with pleasure as Ao'nung tugs him closer, bodies mingling. 

Neteyam submits control for the night.

 

---

 

Neteyam stumbles out of their room in the morning, half asleep and limping from the force of his own speed. 

Lo'ak pauses in the middle of the living room area, eyes raking over his older brother's form before he rolls his eyes. "You were loud."

Neteyam heaves a suffering sigh. "I can't help it—" 

"Cover your mouth," Lo'ak protests, pretending to be more annoyed than he actually was.

Neteyam copies Lo'ak's eyeroll. "I did."

Lo'ak's eyes widen before he whines in pain, covering his face and throwing his head back. "I didn't need to know that!" 

"You brought it up." Neteyam shrugs, flopping down on the sofe and grabbing his phone. He scrolls absent-mindendly as Lo'ak throws himself down next to him.

"Yeah," he says dryly. "Cause I can hear my brother getting railed in the next room." 

Neteyam sighs. "Was it really that loud?"

Lo'ak purses his lips and nods once. 

"What was loud?" Ao'nung asks, sauntering out of the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he yawns. 

Lo'ak groans, curling up on his side. "You were. Last night. Disgusting."

Neteyam slaps his little brother with a fluffy white pillow, drawing a pained gasp. 

Ao'nung smirks, crossing his arms as he stares Lo'ak down. "Is that so?" 

Lo'ak turns away from him, snatching to pillow from Neteyam and hugging it, hiding his face in it. 

Neteyam places a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder. "Lo'ak, are you actually bothered?" 

"Nah." Lo'ak pretends to think about it for a moment. "I didn't actually hear much. Only when I went to the bathroom."

Neteyam slaps him with another pillow, merciless in his attacks. Lo'ak doesn't hesitate to fight back. 

It isn't long until Ao'nung tackles them both and even Tsireya joins, drawn from the kitchen by the noise. 

Soon, the living room is covered in feathers and Neteyam ends up having to replace one of the pillows, having ripped it as he focused an attack on Ao'nung.

He doesn't mind the pillow if it means having fun with his favourite people.

Notes:

Look out for a little smutty one-shot that I'll be posting in a day or two 😇

Chapter 37: Metcayina Boys

Summary:

So i kinda neutered myself by setting my chapter wordcount goal to 3k for this fic and therefore this it not that long 🫠
Had to study for an exam 😪 😫

Notes:

Smutty one shot has been posted 💃

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Ao'nung is scared to try feminine things.

At first, he thinks he isn't even interested in them, but when he thinks back to the single time he saw Neteyam wearing that magnificent golden eyeliner, he changes his mind. Makeup isn't something he's interested in — jewellery however is a different story. And it's not the manly necklaces on black string or the skull-rings that intrigue him — it's the cute seashells on delicate golden chains that Tsireya loves to wear. 

Sometimes, when he's home alone, he sneaks into Tsireya's room to look at her little jewellery box — but he never tries them on. Maybe, just maybe, if he's feeling bold enough, he might lift a chain to his collarbone, pretending to wear it. 

Once or twice, Ao'nung feels a strong urge to try her perfume too, but never does.

He never does these things because they feel wrong. 

Ao'nung is, in a sense, jealous of Neteyam's freedom. Nobody looks at him funny for his occasionally painted nails, nor his handcrafted necklaces, bracelets, armbands. And the belly-button piercing — the one that drives Ao'nung mad — that he wears the most often out of all the ones he owns, is the most amazing little thing.  

It's dangly and golden, with a red, shiny crystal in it. Ao'nung just knows it's real gold. Neteyam doesn't wear cheap things. It's what sets him apart from Lo'ak, who doesn't mind wearing fake silver or gold (but mainly silver, because he likes that better). 

Ao'nung snaps out of his thoughts to a friendly tap on his shoulder. He lifts his head and blinks in surprise. 

"Ao'nung, right?" The kind eyed stranger smiles down at him.

Ao'nung stands up, nodding slowly. "Naìtvì?"

They shake hands. "That's right. Haven't seen you in a bit. How are you doing?"

Ao'nung feels a little awkward. He clears his throat, glancing around campus nervously. Something about Naìtvì being so comfortable with himself and his sexuality makes Ao'nung feel inferior. "Just the usual. I have exams soon. What about you?"

"Ah, yes. The good old exam season. You're in biology, right?" Naìtvì sits down the bench Ao'nung had just been perched on.

Ao'nung sits down beside him and sighs softly. "Yup. What were you in again?"

"Environment Science masters."

"Ah, cause you're old," Ao'nung smirks playfully, nudging Kaey with his elbow.

Naìtvì snorts out a laugh, slapping Ao'nung's arm away from himself. "By like two years. You're being dramatic."

"Two years is a long time," Ao'nung shrugs causally. "So many things can happen. Like getting grey hairs."

Naìtvì stares at him in stunned silence for a second before he doubles forward and wheezes out a deep laugh, sounding a bit like a whistling kettle boiling tea. Ao'nung ducks out of the way of a half-hearted swat at his head, grinning. 

"Grey hairs!" Naìtvì repeated in disbelief. "Man, no wonder Lo'ak calls you the family bully." 

Ao'nung's smile turns into an annoyed frown. "He what?"

Naìtvì leans back on his arms and smirks. "Oh, you know the term family dog. He spiced it up a little." 

Ao'nung purses his lips before snorting. "He's not even a family anything."

"You guys are always fighting," Naìtvì says suddenly. "But how come?"

"It just stuck," Ao'nung replies easily. "We used to hate each other when they first moved here and my dad made me teach them about the city." 

Naìtvì nods, tilting his head towards the clear blue sky. "So what changed?" 

Ao'nung pauses. He isn't really sure. "I guess I realised he's only annoying because he's a little brother and doesn't know how to act any other way."

Naìtvì hums, crossing his legs at the ankles. "I'm a younger brother, too. You're older than Tsireya, right?" 

"Yup," Ao'nung pops out the word in agreement. "Almost everyone I know has siblings. That's weird."

"Rotxo and Kiri don't."

"Kiri is practically Neteyam's sister, to be honest. And Rotxo is like my brother."

"That's nice."

They fall into comfortable silence, sitting beside one another on the bench. Naìtvì tugs his waterbottle from his backpack, that he had long since discarded to lie by his legs. Ao'nung notices some traditional tattoos peaking out from under the collar of his shirt. His long hair is in a single, thick braid down his back, a couple strands loose, framing high, tan cheekbones. 

"You're staring," he murmured softly, tapping away on his phone.

Ao'nung's eyes trail down and he notices the male is looking at suits. White ones. 

Naìtvì laughs softly. "And you're staring at that, too." 

Ao'nung flushes and looks away, mouth going dry in his embarrassment. "Sorry—"

"Whatever, man. It's fine. I don't really care." Naìtvì pats him on the shoulder and yawns. "You waiting for class?"

Ao'nung shakes his head. "I'm waiting for Neteyam. He's supposed to finish in a few minutes. You?"

Naìtvì laughs fondly behind his hand. "Oh, I'm waiting for Kaey. Have to go this salon and try on suits for the wedding." 

"Wedding?" Ao'nung blinks in a daze. 

Naìtvì nods, pale green eyes twinkling in curiosity. "Sorry, I thought you know about it already. We're engaged."

"Congratulations," Ao'nung murmurs, glancing around nervously. He rolls his shoulders as a distraction, having no idea what he's supposed to say now. 

Naìtvì doesn't seem to notice — he beams and pats Ao'nung's shoulder again. "There's a party tonight at the Library Club. You wanna come?"

"Isn't that like a library?" Ao'nung snorts. He spots Kaey a bit farther away, trying to walk towards them, but the crowd of escaping students slows him down. 

"It's the university's pub under building B."

Ao'nung scrunches his face. "What the hell. Sure, why not?"

Naìtvì's eyes light up. He grins, showing of dimples and a slightly chipped front tooth. It suits him and somehow makes him look even a bit elegant in a way.  "Theme is to wearing something green. Starts at 10. Gotta go now. See you there, Ao'nung."

"See you," Ao'nung replies with a short wave as Naìtvì grabs his bag and hurries towards Kaey, smiling pleasantly with a happy bounce in his steps, uncaring of the world around him except for his fiancé. 

Kaey's lecture ended early — there's still some minutes left before Neteyam finishes and Ao'nung remembers him saying something about talking to the professor about a project or a term paper. Whatever it was, Ao'nung didn't deem too important. 

He wastes time on his phone until a sea of students pile out of Building B, no Neteyam in sight. Ao'nung sighs, waiting for his pretty little archer boy to show up. They haven't seen each other since morning and Ao'nung thinks this is absolutely tragic. 

Neteyam takes his sweet time talking to the professor — twenty exact minutes pass before he finally steps out the enormous doors, squinting in the sunlight, trying to shield his eyes with a hand as he attempts to locate Ao'nung. When he does, his face lights up and he hurries over, bag slung over his shoulder. 

"Hey, Nung!" He chirps, leaning down to kiss him.

Ao'nung takes his hand and leans up into the kiss, smiling fondly. "Hey, Tey. Ready to go?"

"Sure."

Notes:

Bruh my roommate never turns off the light when she's the last to get into bed let me just 🤡
Mother said nobody in the family ruins her life like I do 🙇🏻

Chapter 38: Green Green Dress(shirt)

Summary:

Double update because its Easter soon and I probably won't have time :3

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Ao'nung and Neteyam find themselves at the green-themed party on campus, in the Library Club. It looks a little like an Irish pub and just a bit like a wine cellar also.

Ao'nung and Neteyam are wearing green, but Neteyam's clothes are more muted and Ao'nung's are flashy — the surfer's shirt is a deep green, the fabric shiny and silky. Neteyam wears a simple, lime coloured T-shirt. It's oversized, as always, and has a few silly little patterns on the bottom. Ao'nung has no idea what the strange shapes are, but they're cute enough to pass for party clothes.

Since the flat is a fifteen minute walk, this time, there is no car and the nuisance of driving to think about. Neteyam seems more relaxed. Ao'nung smiles at the observation. 

They are dancing happily, and Neteyam is a little buzzed from the alcohol. His usual shyness has mostly faded because of the alcohol, much to Ao'nung's delight. They're swaying around gently in each other's embrace and the golden eyeliner than Ao'nung adores has made an appearance, though very subtle, no winged shape, just a light smear against Neteyam's upper lashline.

Ao'nung drinks beer at the party. He's pretty drunk by now, and his face is starting to get red. He's becoming too drunk to care about anyone's judgement, which is dangerous for him. Last time he let himself get so lost, it wasn't just his mind that was hazy, but his entire body was buzzed and it lead to a few rash decisions (however happy they ended up being in the end).

Ao'nung looks at Neteyam, and hugs him close, moving around to the beat of some foreign song. The atmosphere is a bit different to that of the dorm parties. It's more free — faceless. Around two hundred people are cramped into the cozy space, all wearinf a flash of green (or at least something close to green).

Ao'nung's become very affectionate ever since the party started, bolder by the minute. 

Ao'nung is clearly drunk by now, and he leans in for a kiss with Neteyam, who meets him half-way — he doesn't care about the stares, he's just enjoying himself. Couples are not unusual at this party, but both of them being men sets them aside.

Naìtvì and Kaey also get more attention than they had initially thought they would. The two metcayinan men are swaying to the music right next to Neteyam and Ao'nung. Kaey is holding onto Naìtvì's hips, guiding him, seemingly the better dancer. Naìtvì holds on the the tan male's shoulders, red-cheeked and pupils blown a bit wide. 

Neteyam smiles at the sight, noticing a fancy little ring on Kaey's finger — he concludes that Naìtvì had been the one to pop the question, though he always assumed otherwise. 

Ao'nung kisses him again, with a bit more force. Everyone around him is shocked and cheering them on, it's a very romantic setting despite the smell of alcohol, mixing perfumes and a bit of sweat.

Neteyam kisses Ao'nung back. This causes a massive roar from the closest people in the room as they cheer for the loving couple. Naìtvì winks at them over his shoulder and Ao'nung realises this was the reason the taller male invited him.

Some people are even recording their kisses on their pphons — drunken and happy by the sight.

Rotxo is lost in the crowd somewhere with Kiri, likely dancing as well.

Ao'nung keeps dancing with Neteyam after they kiss, faces never too far apart. Ao'nung seems happier than ever from the alcohol, and Neteyam is enjoying himself as well, much more than he thought. The taste of acceptance makes Ao'nung dizzy — he never realised how much he feared being judged for his preferences and he wonders if Neteyam feels the same.

He doesn't seem to, dress shoes a little dirty by the toes from someone stepping on his foot a good hour ago and grinning, flashing his bunny teeth. 

Neteyam's face is flushes from all the movement, baby hairs sticking to his forehead from the beads of sweat decorating his brow.

Suddenly, Neteyam is leaning to the side, waving to someone. Ao'nung turns to look too. His eyes lands on Rotxo and Kiri. It is around midnight. Lo'ak and Tsireya are right next to the other two, shuffling through the see of people towards them, drinks in hand. 

"Hey, bro!" Lo'ak yells over the music. He seems sober, having just arrived.

Neteyam pulls away from Ao'nung and stops dancing (Ao'nung has to resist whining at the loss). "Hey, Lo'ak. What's up?"

Lo'ak hands him a drink, sharing a look with Tsireya. "We found a nice spot to sit at the back. There's sofas and nobody spilled anything on them yet. Wanna come over?"

Neteyam glances towards Ao'nung before nodding eagerly. "Great. My toes hurt like hell. Come on, Nung. Let's take a break." 

Ao'nung already knows what comes next. Tsireya is giggling behind her hand, fingers twitching — she always does this when she wants to play a game.

Kaey and Naìtvì decline the offer to follow them, deciding to just keep dancing, no words echanged, lips locked.

Ao'nung, Neteyam, Rotxo, Kiri, Lo'ak, and Tsireya all start playing truth or dare, sitting in various stages of spread out. They're all intoxicated, and they start asking very inappropriate questions to eachother after only a few innocent rounds of truths.

Everyone in the group is laughing hysterically and yelling a lot, as they all are clearly enjoying the game, much more than usual.

Kiri, feeling very bold from the alcohol, dares Ao'nung to take his shirt off. Everyone around him yells in shock, as no-one would think that Kiri would even suggest that, much less say it aloud for everyone to hear.

Ao'nung is also pretty drunk by now, but he does it anyways. His shirt flies across the room, going missing somewhere  — Lo'ak yelps, having apparently been slapped in the face by the silky fabric. The younger Sully brother protests weakly and crumbles up the shirt, setting it aside safely.

Ao'nung turns to Lo'ak. "Truth or Dare?"

Lo'ak says to give him a dare, bold and confident as usual. After hearing that he chose the dare, Ao'nung responds by saying "Okay, Lo'ak. I dare you to kiss everyone out of us who you're not related to."

The entire group laughs at this, as everyone is very drunk by now and is willing to put on a show for the rest of the party. Nobody is paying attention to them.

"Oh, come on!" Lo'ak snorts, amusement dancing in his eyes even as he tries to glare at Ao'nung. "Now you're just being weird!" 

Neteyam shrugs. "I like this."

Lo'ak whines loudly, shoving him. "You only like it because it has nothing to do with you." 

Neteyam nods, a handsome smirk settling on his face. He leans back against the headrest and crosses his legs. "Precisely, little brother. I knew you're smart."

"Whatever!" The young Sully deadpans.

Lo'ak and Tsireya kiss eachother, and the entire group breaks into cheers, edging them on. Neteyam thinks they look cute, despite the green theme of the party, they obviously chose to match outfits. Everyone is laughing and cheering for the couple, and it's a very wholesome scene. 

Rotxo snaps a couple photos, making Kiri laugh. The young swimmer has likely zoomed in on Lo'ak's face in a less than flattering angle. Kiri's smile falls when Lo'ak goes over to her to continue his dare. He barely pecks her.

She pretends to gag. "I'm gonna die."

Lo'ak scoffs on offence and lightly swats at her head. "No, you won't,  don't be weird."

Rotxo pushes forward in front of her and makes kissing noises up at Lo'ak, making the younger Sully cringe away. 

Ao'nung snorts. "It only counts if he's the one to kiss you, Rotxo."

"I know, man," Rotxo sniggers.

Lo'ak leans down, knocking their noses together by accident at first, making them both hiss in pain before Kiri grabs them both by their hair and pushes the two whining protestors into a kiss. 

Ao'nung wheezes out a laugh and for once it is Neteyam who's taking photos of his little brother's misery. 

Kiri let's them go and sits back, crossing her arms in satisfaction. 

Lo'ak pulls back with a faked gag and shakes his head. "You want one too, Nungie?"

Tsireya giggles sweetly. "You have to! Only Neteyam is an exception."

Ao'nung frowns and shakes his head quickly. "No, I don't! Stay away, you demon."

Neteyam reaches over and holds Ao'nung down with a weak grip. Ao'nung protests half-heartedly as Lo'ak closes in on him. 

"Well, that backfired, didn't it?" Lo'ak sniggers, hooking a finger under Ao'nung's chin, making him look up. 

Ao'nung really wants to stand up and run. His pride keeps him seated as Lo'ak leans down, ignoring his frown and pecking him lightly, barely even touching him. 

"Why does this keep happening?" Kiri laughs from next to Rotxo, phone in hand.

Lo'ak jerks back from Ao'nung and wipes his mouth. "Anyone else want another one? Big bro? You're awfully smug for someone who's brother keeps kissing his boyfriend."

Neteyam snorts loudly, slapping his thigh in amusement. "Ah, you think I would worry about you and Ao'nung? Come on, baby bro. You look a little green."

"Yeah, cause he has fish lips."

"I kissed Tsireya, too." He hums innocently, sharing a look with Kiri. "What about that?"

Lo'ak rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Truth or dare, Teyam?"

As Neteyam is asked to choose between truth or dare, Ao'nung gags by his side and tries to trip Lo'ak. Neteyam chooses truth instead, wanting to answer a question instead of doing a dare to not risk embarassing himself while drunk.

The night blurs together after that point.

All Neteyam remembers is Ao'nung slipping away to hang out with his new friends while Neteyam lazes on the sofa with Kiri and Rotxo, blissed out of his mind.

Then, there's a faint memory of stumbling home — of Ao'nung carrying him to bed and then one of himself nudging Ao'nung's clothes off (he put his shirt on eventually back at the party).

And then, the last image in his head is himself on his hands and knees and the sweet taste of deja vu as he loses himself in Ao'nung's touch again.

 

Notes:

Now that there is not much to dissect when it comes to Jake and his kids' relationship — we're moving on to Ao'nung's inner insecurities and slight discomfort with his sexuality

Chapter 39: Playlists and Popsicles

Summary:

Guess who's back from being MIA all weekend plus Monday lmfao
Was letting my ideas marinate a little in my lil monkey brain

Notes:

This healed my soul a lil to write so I hope yall enjoy
Shout out to citricsapph for recommending songs Neteyam would like
They've been added to my Neteyam playlist on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6NIcmVf7faGGvLE3QixzUo?si=dsd-ed65Qh-Ija-8UfElkg

---

April is a warm month — especially in this town. Winter isn't exactly cold either, but Ao'nung is the kind to despise wearing anything more than a shirt, specifically a short sleeved one.

Easter break was nonexistent at their university, as it followed traditional na'vi religions.

This realisation sent Ao'nung down a loophole of culture and religion with Neteyam that led them to discover that they are both of na'vi descendant, however Ao'nung was metcayinan, and Neteyam was omaticayan. Neteyam, of course, had already known this, though, for Ao'nung's sake, pretended to be surprised by the information. 

Right now, all of them were hanging out at the park near the flat in various different stages of scattered on the deep green grass carpet adorning the simple little park.

Kiri and Tsireya had been smart enough to bring blankets — Lo'ak had surprised everyone with a popsicle each, much to Ao'nung's delight (which he pretended to be weirded out by, by the way, though he did say thank you).

"Why the long face, Neteyam?" Kiri asks curiously, running her free hand over her long, white skirt. She bites into her pale pink popsicle. 

Neteyam purses his lips. "I drank coffee before we came out here."

Kiri's eyes twinkle in amusement at his answer. "Ahwe, do you need to go pee?"

Neteyam moans in misery and flops down, clenching his knees. "Worse."

Lo'ak snorts, cheeks red as he struggles to not choke on his sweet, icey delight. Rotxo pats his back in comfort, though he's trying hard to hide his obvious amusement too.

"Want me to walk home with you?" Tsireya asks gently, shooting Lo'ak a glare that makes Lo'ak freeze in his place. Ao'nung thinks his baby sister has mastered their mother's most intense side-eye. 

"No, it's alright. It'll pass in a moment."

"Pass in a moment?" Kiri laughs from next to Rotxo. "That's not how this works."

"No, but his ass is lactose intolerant and that packaging is obviously not purple," Lo'ak buts in, bravery back now that Tsireya was focused on playing with Kiri's skirt hem. "He gets these intense needs to–"

"Can we stop disuccing my bowel movements, please." Neteyam turns to Ao'nung, promptly shoved half of his popsicle down his throat as a ways to distract him.

It works, because Ao'nung pulls his knees up and pouts as Rotxo and Lo'ak whistle at him knowingly, Neteyam's intolerance to lactose long forgotten. 

Then, a shadow falls over them. Kiri is the first to notice. She nudges Tsireya and Rotxo, who both grin in delight.

"Hey, man!" Rotxo jumps to his feet, barely avoiding knocking into Ao'nung's hunched form. "What's up?"

"Hey, Rotxo, " Naìtvì smiles kindly, eyes falling over everyone sitting on the blankets curiously. "I was just on my way to the store but I'm glad I ran into you guys."

"Which one of us specifically?" Lo'ak asks, head tilting as he eyes the newcomer. 

Naìtvì gestures to Ao'nung, who turns to stare up at him in surprise. "Me?"

"Yeah," the dark-skinned male replies softly. "Do you have a moment?"

Neteyam nudges him to stand and follow after the other surfer. Ao'nung doesn't resist, driven by curiosity. 

"What is it?" He asks, itching with the need to know once they are out of shot.

Naìtvì grins, though he looks shy and flustered. "I spoke with Kae and we were wondering if you wanted to attend our wedding."

Ao'nung watches a pigeon fly by noisily in shock before the words finally register in his brain. "Oh! Your wedding. Wow. Me?"

"You can bring a plus one, of course." Naìtvì fiddles with the case of his earpods, tattoos peaking out from under his loose, beige t-shirt. "It's in June."

"Wow," Ao'nung repeats bumbly. He can sense Naìtvì's growing nervousness, so he shakes himself back awake and nods, allowing a shy, genuine smile to blossom on his face. "I'd love to come. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Naìtvì says, shoulders sagging in relief. "I'll add you insta and send you the details?"

"Great, of course. Thanks again," Ao'nung grins openly now, reaching up and patting the male's shoulders with both of his hands, bouncing a little on the spot he stands, stirring up a little dust. 

They bid goodbyes (Naìtvì almost goes the wrong way, giggling deeply as he takes a sharp turn in the right direction).

Ao'nung scurries back to his friends and shows himself down next to Neteyam, burying his face in the archer's lap. Neteyam placed a hand in his head, a dark brow raised in question.

"Yes?" He drawls out softly, trying to coax out an answer. 

Ao'nung kicks his legs a little (Lo'ak frowns at him in distrust) before turning to face the sky, squinting against the unforgiving rays of the spring sun. "We just got invited to a wedding, Tey."

Neteyam sits in silence for a second before a smile settles on his features. "You and I?"

Ao'nung nods, a dopey grin on his face. Tsireya shrieks in delight and falls down onto his brother (and Neteyam) to hug him, demanding details.

"He invited you and not me?" Rotxo whines with no real malice in his voice, leaning heavily on Kiri, who swats at his curls in mock annoyance, still trying to eat her popsicle, though it's on the verge of melting right off the stick.

"He likes me better." Ao'nung yelps when Tsireya's hand makes content with his flushes cheek. "What was that for?!"

"Be nice!" She chides, pouting and shooting an apologetic look to Rotxo. He shrugs, eyes kind. 

Neteyam lies down with Ao'nung shifting to rest his cheek on his stomach, tracing the patterns of the blanket they're on. 

"So when's the wedding?" Lo'ak asks eventually once he settles back into Tsireya's arms, a silly little grin on his face — Ao'nung can tell he's lost in his own fantasies about his little sister in a fluffy, white gown. 

"In June. But I don't know the details yet," Ao'nung replies easily, closing his eyes. 

Neteyam tries to calm his fried nerves and vows never to drink coffee again (it always makes his anxiety spike, and he always forgets). 

Ao'nung turns so he can wrap his arms around Neteyam's middle, snuggling into his warmth until Lo'ak's shoeless foot disturbs his peace. Ao'nung knows Lo'ak is clean (something Ao'nung never imagined) since they live together, so he freely chomps down on the assaulting toes, causing a high pitched shriek to erupt from the youngest Sully. 

Tsireya giggles loudly, pretending to comfort Lo'ak as he cradles his offended foot, but nobody else seems to be trying to hide their amusement. Rotxo and Kiri as openly wheezing, slapping their knees, thigh, wherever they reach easier.

Even Neteyam is eyeing his little brother smugly. He reaches over and pinches Lo'ak's side. "That's what you get for trying to mess with people, baby bro."

Lo'ak whines in response, playing up the dramatics even more until he catches the stink-eye of and old lady from a few benches over. 

Ao'nung feels at home and his heart is fuzzy. He gets his earpods out and hands on the Neteyam (the right one, because he hears better with his left) to offer some background noise as they quite down.

Neteyam smiles. He recognises the song Ao'nung plays and he knows the only reason the surfer has it in a playlist is because of Neteyam. 

Halfway Up by The Brook & The Bluff plays softly in their ears as they lounge around in the sunlight, gentle winds caressing their cheeks.

Notes:

Who's surprised that Ao'nung got invited to a gay wedding 🤣
We all know who his plus one will be too

Chapter 40: Medusa's Ikran

Summary:

Slight trigger warning; Medusa tattoo

Notes:

Neteyam opens up to Ao'nung about a traumatic event from his childhood

---

"Teyam!" Tuktirey shrieks in delight when he steps into the house with his two large suitcases. 

Neytiri barely catches the young girl, still clad in her tutu, from stumbling right into his brother's already full arms.

Lo'ak shuffles inside with his own bags a moment later, panting under the weight of his bags. 

"Lo'ak!" Tuktirey shrieks out a giggle. "You're home! How amazing."

"Did you bring home everything, boys?" She asks, coming up to them to press a smooch to each of their foreheads.

"Apparently so," Lo'ak nods, attempting to toe his shoes off, but failing. 

Neytiri nudges him into the living room. "Just keep them on. I have to mop later today anyway." 

Neteyam drags his bags, full of books and bedsheets he can't wash at the flat, into the house and spots his father at the dining table, reading a book casually, a coffee beside him. He has his arm in a cast this time. 

Neteyam frowns. "What happened, dad?"

"Hello to you too, baby boy," Jake laughs easily. "I fell off the roof trying to fix the hole that's been bothering your mom."

Neteyam sags in relief and drops his bags, shuffling into his father's embrace. "I thought it was another stupid mission."

Jake wraps his good arm around his eldest child and nuzzles closer to him. "Nope. It's just your old man being an idiot."

Neteyam chuckles softly and shakes his head, cheeks mushed against Jake's shoulder.

"I was supposed to go to Bahrein but now I can't," Jake shrugs, pulling back and turning to face Lo'ak, inviting him in for a hug with a spread arm. 

Neteyam steps aside as Lo'ak shuffles over to their father, hugging him. Tuktirey dances over — doing twirls and plies and whatever else Neteyam has long since forgotten the name of. He hugs her.

"You guys are done with classes for now, right?" Jake asks, nose twitching as a couple of Lo'ak's baby hairs tickle the soft, pale skin. 

Lo'ak sighs softly, nodding. "Yeah, but it's exam season. That's worse. I have exam dates even in the middle of June."

Neteyam sits down on the sofa, finally taking his shoes off. Lo'ak follows his lead, flopping down and spreading out, shirt riding up and exposing his caramel stomach.

"What about you, Neteyam?" Neytiri asks gently, coming to sit down beside Jake at the dining table. "When do you finish your exams?"

"Exam season starts on the last day of May for me," he hums, having forgotten if the months ends with a thirtieth or thirty-first. "It's till mid-July. I don't have my official dates yet."

"Speaking of dates, " Lo'ak swoons, pressing his freezing toes into Neteyam's side, making him wince. "Have you told mom and dad about Naìtvì?"

"Naìtvì?" Jake frowns, confused. "I thought that you were happy with Ao'nung —"

"Eywa!" Neteyam yelps, shooting his little brother (more like bother) a mean glare. "I don't have a date with anyone! I like Ao'nung, okay? Naìtvì invited Ao'nung to his wedding in June and Ao'nung's taking me."

"In June?" Jake hums. "Won't you have exams?" 

Neteyam shrugs. "Each class has like two or three dates to chose from, so I'll just try to manoeuvre them around the wedding."

Neytiri hums, typing away on her phone with her lips pursed. "We have booked a holiday in June with Ao'nung's family."

"Mom!" Lo'ak whines out loudly, flailing. "But my exams!"

"It's at the end of June!" Neytiri snaps, dark brows furrowing in agitation at her younger son's disturbance. "Don't raise your voice at me, Lo'ak."

Lo'ak makes to pout before sitting up straight, as if struck by lightning. "Wait, we're going with Ao'nung's family? Does that mean Tsireya is gonna be there too?"

Neytiri sighs tiredly, but nods, unaware that she has just unleashed a million questions from Lo'ak, who moves to sit next to him and the table, grinning widely. 

Neteyam sinks into the sofa comfortably, letting Tuktirey cuddle up against his chest, giggling as he played with her tiny little braids and beads, making them click together gently from time to time near her ears. 

She falls asleep in his arms, and he drifts off, warmed by the heat of her little body.

 

---

 

June, however, is far. It's only the middle of May. 

The weather suddenly warms up, and it's absolutely unbearable some days unless one is by the beach or a pool. 

Luckily (Ao'nung scrunches his nose in disgust at the sheer fanciness of it all) the Sully Family have a ginormous pool in their back yard. 

Tuktirey has been dropped off at a friend's house for a sleepover, while Jake and Neytiri were at work. 

Lo'ak and Neteyam were the only ones home — and their guests, Ao'nung and Tsireya. Tsireya was swimming around in the pool with Lo'ak, giggling and splashing about excitedly, hair put up in a braided high ponytail. 

Lo'ak throws her about, some of the water getting pushed out on the stone and grass by the pool. 

Neteyam sits in the shade of an enourmous parasol, his horribly scribbled notes on his lap. He leafs through them half heartedly,  Ao'nung lying down beside him on a beach towel, stretched out and snoozing.

It's peaceful that day — Neteyam hates to be studying at this time, but Naìtvì's wedding is right before one of his exams, which is in two weeks, right on the first day of June. 

Luckily, they don't have to travel far, only a two hour drive to a magnificent beach with traditional Marui homes. Naìtvì and Kaey's birth Village. Ao'nung and Neteyam did not even need to buy any suits. The wedding had a very traditional metcayinan theme, beads, shells, loincloths.

Ao'nung already had such things, quite glorious ones too, fit for a wedding.

Neteyam would wear one, adjusted to fit his form. 

"Tey?" Ao'nung hums suddenly, eyes shielded by a hand, trying to block the sun.

"What is it, Nun?" Neteyam asks gently, setting his notes aside. 

Ao'nung turns his head towards him, peeking up into Neteyam's pale brown gaze. "Should I get a piercing?"

Neteyam perks up, curiosity shining in his eyes. "Where?"

Ao'nung points to his nose. "The cow one?"

Neteyam also has no idea what piercings are called. He nods, a smile blossoming on his face. "That one?"

Ao'nung hums, deep in thought. "Or maybe just on the side of my nose. Or maybe my ears. Like, earrings and one extra on the right one next to it."

"I want a tattoo," Neteyam murmurs quietly, placing a hand on his stomach, over his own piercing, hidden by a large, white T-shirt. "With Lo'ak, probably." 

Ao'nung squints, sitting up. His hair is loose, long curls falling down his back in damp ringlets. He's been swimming a mere hour ago, tossing Lo'ak around like he weighs nothing. 

"What kind?" Ao'nung questions eagerly. 

Neteyam points to his hip bone, the one without the patch of Vitiligo. "Just a simple lineart of an ikran."

Ao'nung nods, eyes following the hand. He reacher over to sneak his warm fingers up under Neteyam's top, flicking over his piercing, feeling it dangle. Neteyam twitches but otherwise does not react.

"I also want one on the back of my neck," he utters after a moment, eyes distant. He looks a little unsure of himself when he next whispers the words. "A tiny Medusa lineart."

Ao'nung tilts his head. "Medusa? From mythology?" 

Neteyam nods.

"How come?" Ao'nung senses something dark lingering over Neteyam and softens his voice.

Neteyam hugs himself and pulls his knees up, resting his chin on them, trapping Ao'nung's hand on his stomach. Ao'nung traces the soft skin. 

In the background, they can hear Lo'ak and Tsireya talking quietly, giggling amongst themselves as they use a large, doughnut shaped floatie. 

Neteyam looks to the side. "Something happened to me before I met you." 

Ao'nung freezes, wide eyed as he suddenly remembers a short reel he saw explaining this tattoo. His heart drops to his stomach — he wants to ask, but doesn't want to push too hard. 

Neteyam glances his way, cheeks a little flushed in embarrassment. He looks mildly uncomfortable, curling and uncurling his toes. He fiddles with a stray string on his swimming shorts and sighs out loudly — suddenly. It startles Ao'nung. 

"A teacher in first grade." Neteyam places his hand over Ao'nung's, under his top. "She—"

Ao'nung waits patiently, shuffling closer when Neteyam's voice wavers, nose scrunching in the way it always does when something upsets him greatly. 

Neteyam loses his voice, so he guides Ao'nung's hand to his chest, now above his shirt. "Here, and—" He shudders, unpleasant tingles shooting up his spine as he lowers Ao'nung's hand to his hip, each side lingering for a second before he slips it between his thighs, over his shorts, onto his softness.

Ao'nung closes his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Neteyam murmurs, letting his hand go. Ao'nung rests it on his knee instead. "It's— it wasn't my fault this happened to me."

"It's never your fault–" Ao'nung gasps out quietly. "It– what she did is her own sin. It's— Great Mother."

A gentle smile tugs at Neteyam's lips. He looks down at the grass under his toes. "I've never told anyone before."

Ao'nung tugs him into a tender hug, cradling the back of his head. "I'm— thank you for trusting me with this, Neteyam."

Neteyam sinks into Ao'nung's arms, feeling like a million weights have been lifted from his shoulders, lungs suddenly capable of holding more air. He feels like he can breathe.

Notes:

Hope this part is not too heavy for yall and let me know if this should be tagged or smth bc I'm not sure tbh

Chapter 41: Wedding Wine

Summary:

The first couple paragraphs tie together with last chapter's Medusa tattoo theme, but nothing major is mentioned

Notes:

Side note:
Ao'nung's reaction is my reaction when a friend told me he was assaulted by a roommate :///

---

Ao'nung watches Neteyam's sleeping face.

He's haunted by the things he's learnt about Neteyam's past, his childhood — he could clearly picture a shy, seven year old little Neteyam coming to class with stomach cramps from the nerves of what was to happen to him. 

Ao'nung runs over the conversation in his head again.

"What happened to her?" He had asked, when he was sure Lo'ak and Tsireya were too busy playing in the pool.

Neteyam had sat in front of him, knees brushing. His shoulders had slumped, almost in defeat. "Someone else came forward and she got fired."

Ao'nung turns on his side, draping a hand over Neteyam's middle protectively. Seven year old Neteyam did not even have vitiligo yet, only the small patch on the back of his throat. Ao'nung has seen pictures. He was a tiny, dainty little boy (though tall) with pretty, neat braids and a cute, flat nose. 

Ao'nung pushes the thoughts away and  decides to focus on Neteyam. But he finds the burden of knowing suffocating. He wants to tell someone because he wants to cry when he thinks about it — but it's not his story to tell, not when Neteyam hasn't told a single other soul.

And suddenly, his reaction to losing his virginity makes so much sense — Ao'nung feels his lungs tighten painfully. His reluctance to undress. And Ao'nung feels like a major asshole for never noticing anything.

Ao'nung knows he has to go to the university counselor or his swimming coach or anyone who doesn't know who Neteyam is because this is eating him alive.

He can't imagine how Neteyam feels. How he felt.

So he tries not to. But he feels gross with himself, mind tricking him into feelings like he experienced something like this. But he never has beyond a few cruel jokes from his old friends back home. 

Ignoring only works as he drifts off to darkness.

But Ao'nung cannot look at women the same for weeks after that conversation and he's weary of all of the ones at Naìtvì's wedding. Neteyam seems okay, he's smiling and slowly coming out of his shell when more and more people come up to him — mainly because the deep brown shades of his skin looks hypnotising in the traditional jewellery and clothing that adorns him.

The wedding itself was beautiful — Ao'nung already wants to attend another one. Preferably his own with Neteyam. Maybe Tsireya's (he's come to accept that Lo'ak will be a part of his family no matter what).

Naìtvì is led down the beach first by his mother, long hair let down, soft waves nearly reaching his waist. He has a crown of deep orange flowers on his head and a skirt of rich, red and orange dried seaweed, coloured by coral. His chest and face are smeared with skillfull patterns of white paint, some mimicking the lines of his tattoos. 

Neteyam is in awe. Ao'nung sees the way the archer's eyes linger on the magnificent shoulder piece adorning Naìtvì's body, strings of pearl and shell dangling down his arms. 

Drums play softly as Naìtvì comes to stand between the two great torches. The ocean behind him sways gently, twinkling in the sun. He faces the guests, his weeping mother holding his arm. 

The drums pick up a little as Kaey emerges from the back, lead by both parents. He is adorned in red and yellow, rather than orange. His hair is shorter, unbraided and adorned by a crown of large, pale yellow flowers. His swirls of markings follow the curves of his tattoos — where they don't, they're identical to Naìtvì's own, but mirrored.

Ao'nung watches Neteyam swoon, sitting beside him, leg bouncing, making the strands of his own grass skirt fly about in the wind. Ao'nung places a hand on his thigh gently to calm him. 

Neteyam is wide eyed as he watches Naìtvì and Kaey exchange vows and prayers to the Great Mother. 

Ao'nung averts his gaze when they kiss, Kaey bending Naìtvì backwards. Ao'nung cheers despite his unwelcome embarrassment and smiles happily when Neteyam sticks his fingers in his mouth and whistles louder than anyone else. Ao'nung has never seen this side of Neteyam before. He loves it.

The after party (or whatever it is called, Ao'nung doesn't know) is amazing. Ao'nung's head is buzzing with traditional metcayinan wine and he drags Neteyam to the dancing crowd to teach the current dance — a simple but fun one.

Neteyam is a good dancer — of course he is, he did ballet and learnt how to do the waltz (whichever one). He memories the steps easily and follows Ao'nung's lead, who is singing along loudly with the traditional na'vi band.

Naìtvì and Kaey are lost in their own world, swaying around, hardly following the song or the dance. 

Ao'nung grins as he notices Neteyam eyeing them, almost longingly. The surfer reaches out and grasps Neteyam's hips, dragging him closer, mimicking the newlyweds and swaying with Neteyam in his arms, held close. 

Neteyam's eyes fall shut, he rests his chin on Ao'nung's shoulder, nuzzling against his warmth and easily copying the swimmer's dance. The drums slow down eventually — Naìtvì and Kaey get pushed to the middle of the growing crowd (they have quite a few guests).

Neteyam's vitiligo is in full view, as is his fanciest, dangliest belly button piercing. It drives Ao'nung mad but he cannot do anything about it — not now with so many people nearby. 

They do have their own marui for the night, however. And the night is fast approaching. 

Ao'nung's body aches to feel Neteyam pressed up against him, his desires running wild at the barely there amount of clothing covering Neteyam, really, nothing is left to imagine — and what more, Neteyam seems to have shaved every inch of his body. His happy trail is gone, the soft tuffs of hair from his upper thighs are absent. And when he lifts his arms, Ao'nung spots naked armpits too. 

Really, Ao'nung couldn't be bothered to do all that — though, he's not very hairy anyway. Tsireya is the one who got inherited that faint moustache from their mother (which they both wax away). 

Ao'nung hums curiously, eyeing Neteyam's soft cheeks, chin, the spot above his lip. "Do you grow— can you grow a beard, Tey?"

Neteyam blinks in surprise before he bites down on the inside of his cheek to stifle a giggle, tipsy and giddy. "Nope. Not even a little."

Ao'nung tilts his head and slides a lazy hand to Neteyam's lower back, tugging him closer. "That's cute." 

"Can you?" Neteyam asks back, placing a hand on the back of Ao'nung's neck, breath ghosting over the surfer's face as he leans up, teasingly staying just out of reach of Ao'nung's lips.

"Yeah," Ao'nung grins coyly, eyes half lidded. "But I got it lasered off."

Neteyam doesn't reply, pale eyes lowering to Ao'nung's mouth — he inhales shakily and glances around, contemplating something. 

Ao'nung smirks, already knowing what's going on in his lover's head. He swiftly hooks his arms under Neteyam's thighs and lifts him up. Neteyam gasps, grasping at his shoulders to keep from flopping right down onto the sand.  

He makes eye contact with Kaey, who has his arms wrapped around Naìtvì's waist, now barely swaying. The tall male winks at them and glances towards the maruis with knowing eyes.

Neteyam scrunches his nose and hides his face on Ao'nung's hair as the male carries him to their little spot — swiftly stepping inside and lowering him onto the many blankets making up the tradition sleeping.

Ao'nung grins down at him, dopey with love. He nudges Neteyam's thighs open with his knee and settles down over him, leaning down to kiss him gently, a hand caressing his cheek, tilting his face up by the chin. 

Neteyam sighs into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut.

He submits himself to Ao'nung, who covers his mouth with a warm, gentle hand to keep him quiet, containing his sweet sounds as his hips press forward into the warm body rhythmically. 

Notes:

I only ever went to a very white ass wedding when I was 6 so
I made all this shit up

Chapter 42: Café Date

Summary:

Self promo: wrote two aonung x loak oneshots this weekend so if anyone is interested
I think they turned out pretty neat 👌🏻

---

Ao'nung watches Neteyam, mesmerised. They're sitting on a long distance bus, things combined in a single suitcase in the luggage department. 

They're sharing a set of wireless earbuds and Neteyam's liked songs on Spotify shuffle. He's playing his favourite songs from high school — his music taste has changed a lot. Ao'nung can still recognise these songs. They discovered a lot of them together. 

Just like that, Ao'nung gets lost in his teenage memories, head resting on Neteyam's shoulder as their bus crosses the Hungarian border without any hassle. 

Je te laisserai des mots by Patrick Watson sounds softly in Ao'nung's right ear. He closes his eyes. 

Neteyam is fast asleep, head tilted back, lips open. He's sweating a little in the summer heat. The air conditioner is too harsh, so he doesn't turn it on. 

This reminds Ao'nung about the trip their high-school organised to Berlin a good five years ago. They had been eighteen then with a lot of freedom in a foreign country. 

Ao'nung lets out an amused huff at a memory of almost being scammed by two obviously not German girls. 

He remembers falling asleep in a fancy planetarium of sorts instead of watching the stars and planets being projected onto the ceiling in the dark — Neteyam and Kiri had also fallen asleep, along with Rotxo. 

The song changes to Cavetown's Boys Will Be Bugs.

Ao'nung thinks this song fits Lo'ak much more than Neteyam, but he still thinks it's kind of cute. 

Neteyam scrunches his nose in his sleep. Ao'nung smiles softly, seeing his face through the reflection of the window. Then, he closes his eyes again. 

This time, he thinks back to little fifteen year old Neteyam joining his class in the middle of the year looking ridiculously perfect and shy. He had been shy — Ao'nung wonders why he only realised this now. Neteyam didn't keep his distance from their classmates because he was stuck up; no, he had been too shy to make any friends. 

Ao'nung remembers, how at first, Neteyam would disappear every break to his brother's classroom to hang out with him.  

Ao'nung would sometimes follow, nearly having a heart attack every time he saw the way Tsireya giggled at the younger Sully boy — who, admittedly (Ao'nung won't admit it himself though) had always being a cute guy. Being pretty just runs in the family when it comes to the Sully's. 

Ao'nung snaps out of his thoughts when Neteyam's playlist reaches the enthusiastic classical music section. Ao'nung frowns. He definitely studies to this. He taps Neteyam's phone screen and peeks at the song. Still Life by Adrián Berenguer.

Ao'nung suddenly feels like he's in a movie as he stares out the window. Their bus speeds along the highway and all he sees is yellow fields and slight hills. Honestly, Ao'nung doesn't think Hungary is very pretty. Not these parts, at least. He doesn't know a thing about this country other than the name of its capital city — he spots a hare on one of the fields and perks up — and that it was once part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. What else? Nothing.  

They're travelling here because it's one of the cheaper options. Definitely cheaper than France or Italy. 

The only problem is that neither of them speak the language — hopefully, they speak English here.

"Why do you want to go there?" Ao'nung had asked Neteyam, brows furrowed. 

They had been sitting in Neteyam's room, trying to find a country to visit that summer. 

Neteyam had glanced up at him before turning back to his laptop screen, fluffy hair sticking up and unbraided. "There are a lot of Korean firms looking to invest there. Kiri said the capital is pretty and it's pretty easy to public transport there."

"So, we're going there for the firms?" Ao'nung had frowned. 

"No, but it's a bonus. I won't bore you with that, though," Neteyam murmured softly, tapping a pencil to his lip in concentration. "It's a cheap way to experience Europe, Nung. Though, I have heard from Kiri and Grace that the actual natives are rude and glare at you if you smile in public." 

Ao'nung is still perplexed by this information. He'd never glare at someone just for being happy. He had consulted Kiri about the matter, who had visited the place with her mother before. 

"Tell me about Hungary." Ao'nung took a seat in front of Kiri on the Café, pursing his lips.

Kiri had scoffed at him, sipping her iced Americano through her paper straw. "Hello to you too, ocean boy. I'm fine, thanks for asking. "

Ao'nung had rolled his eyes at her response. "Right, sorry. So tell me about that place."

"It's pretty. The capital at least. Kind of flat, not many mountains or hills really, though Budapest is nice." She leaned back in her chair, getting her phone out and handing it to Ao'nung. "You can look at those photos. They're from my trip with mom. So, Budapest is pretty big. That city is actually on a small mountain and a river cuts it in half. It smells like piss though. You can do a lot of fun things and honest to Eywa, I've never seen so many cafés. The teahouses suck though. Except the bubble tea." 

"What about the people?" Ao'nung asked, swiping through Kiri’s phone mindlessly. She took good photos. 

"Well," Kiri hummed. "They're bitter. Oh, and the tourists like to take up the entire sidewalk and expect you to fuck off out of the way even if there's nowhere to go. But knowing you, you won't have that problem. If you need help with directions, go to Starbucks. They usually speak English there." 

Neteyam stirs in his sleep, turning to Ao'nung and snuggling against him, sweat dripping down his back. "Are we there yet?"

"Thirty minutes left, Tey. Go back to sleep." 

When they arrive, Ao'nung guides a half sleep Neteyam off the bus and goes to collect their suitcase. He decides to carry all their luggage while Neteyam wakes up. They arrived at the main bus terminal, so they find a seat to figure out google maps and the public transport. 

The metro seems to be under construction so they need to take a replacement bus. It leaves every few minutes, so they take their time. 

Apparently, the little room they rented for their short little three-day trip is only about thirty minutes from their location. Ao'nung knows everything is overpriced at the bus terminal stores, but he feels like a parched houseplant. 

Neteyam buys them online bus tickets, one on his phone, one on Ao'nung's while the surfer purchases two small lemon ice teas and two overpriced sandwiches.  

"Here, Nung. We're gonna have to scan the QR code by the bus door apparently." Neteyam hands him his phone and takes his tea. 

"Are you hungry?" Ao'nung asks him, attempting to stuff his now hald empty bottle of tea in their shared backpack. 

Neteyam shakes his head and grabs the suitcase, following the signs, leading Ao'nung. Ao'nung follows after him like a lost puppy, flinching away from a suspicious woman in torn clothes, who is coming towards him with rapid speed, speaking a language he doesn't speak. But Ao'nung isn't stupid. He can recognise begging. 

He grabs Neteyam's free hand and sticks to his side. Neteyam smiles at him reassuringly. They cross the road and locate the replacement bus easily. 

"How many stops?" Ao'nung asks after boarding. 

He gets squished against a couple of rowdy teenage boys and shudders at their smell. 

Neteyam checks his phone. "We get off at some place called Astoria. There's a Uni there where they teach Korean."

"Wonderful," Ao'nung grits out when someone steps on his toes. "Is that far?"

"No. I think fifteen more minutes." 

Ao'nung has never been so relieved to see a bed in his life. They arrived not long after getting off the bus. There's a pretty little bathroom and the room has it's own kitchen — it's listed as a room for tourists, but honestly, it looks a bit like an apartment.

Ao'nung likes it. He can imagine living in a place like this with Neteyam one day — he will however, not be painting the walls this shade of lime green. 

There's a painting of a man that stares him down. He washes his hands and stuffs himself with his sandwich. 

Neteyam takes a shower, emerging smelling like vanilla. Apparently, shower gel was included in the price. "You up for a walk, Nung?" 

Ao'nung watches Neteyam's hips as the young male walks into the kitchen, towel around his neck.

"Okay."

Neteyam perks up and a smile blossoms on his face. "I saw a Café on our way here that I want to check out." 

"Coffee after six?" Ao'nung raises a dark brown. "How are you going to sleep?"

Neteyam tilts his head, tongue flicking over his lower lip. "Who says we're going to sleep? Have you seen the size of that bed?"

Ao'nung almost chokes on his sandwich.

Notes:

Next chapter is basically gonna be Ao'nung having a stroke every time he realises what Neteyam wants to do on their trip lmoa
Neteyam travel vlog incoming

Chapter 43: Unicorn Burgers

Summary:

All places mentioned are real, so yall can google it if you wanna get a better image. Here's a list to those who want:
1. Váci Street Anna Café
2. Museum of Sweets and Selfies, Budapest
3. Unicorn Bistro, Budapest

Notes:

Carmina Burana started blasting in my ear randomly while working on this lmfao that was an ✨️experience✨️
Enjoy this 3k beast

---

"We're going where?"

Neteyam smirks right at him, the little menace. "Museum of Sweets and Selfies. They have a bubble pool slide."

Ao'nung sets his coffee down slowly. "What the absolute hell."

Neteyam shrugs casually. "You're the one who didn't wanna plan this trip because the people here aren't friendly."

Ao'nung gets out his phone, that is almost dead, to google this place and his face pales. "Neteyam, everything is pink!"

They're sitting face to face on a fancy street. The Café they're in is called Anna Café. It's pretty neat, Ao'nung likes it, though he definitely had better coffee back home.

Neteyam on the other hand seems immensely satisfied, though passers-bys keep staring at him. Ao'nung can count on one hand how many black men he's seen here in the few hours he's spent out and about.

Neteyam has his pretty braids in a bun, two front pieces down to frame his face, covered heavily in beads. 

Ao'nung thinks he looks mesmerising, as always, but he cannot help but be a little weirded by his choice in things to do. 

"Pink is cool," Neteyam replies easily and leans back, crossing his legs. He's wearing white shorts and a beige shirt, the top button popped open, exposing his hand crafted omaticayan choker. 

Ao'nung is wearing blue and white in a similar fashion. He knows they look damn good, too. 

"Pink is not cool," Ao'nung chides gently, shaking his head. 

"Well, why not?" Neteyam asks softly, as patient as ever. He tilts his head, breathing softly, a hand resting against his stomach, the other on the arm of the chair.

Ao'nung realises that he has no answer to that except one that makes him uncomfortable. Toxic masculinity. He's not about to ruin Neteyam's mood with such a topic before they even spent a night in this city.  He lies through his teeth, trying to convince himself more than anything. "Okay. Pink isn't that bad. This place is... cute. We can take cute pictures of you."

"Of us," Neteyam nudges the toes of his cream coloured shoes against Ao'nung's dark blue ones.

"Right," Ao'nung gulps. "Of us." 

They leave the Café at closing time, which is somewhat late. It's dark outside, but nice and cool. The city is actually beautiful after sundown. Many of the large, fancy buildings are illuminated by lights. 

They walk around (not hand-in-hand) comfortably. Neteyam snaps some photos with a Canon camera, smiling in satisfaction when they come out just right. He has a nice camera. Ao'nung doesn't notice that Neteyam is recording him (and their trip). 

"Wow, look!" Neteyam grins. "That's definitely the Liberty Statue." 

Ao'nung follows Neteyam's pointed finger. He's staring at a mountain at the end of the many bridges across the river. Ao'nung smiles. He doesn't think this place is special because of the statues — no, Neteyam is the one that makes it special for Ao'nung. 

"She's holding a huge leaf."

Neteyam nods. "I'll google that later. Come on, stand there. I wanna take a photo of you."

Ao'nung chuckles, shaking his head. He does as told, throwing up a peace sign before doing a traditional metcayinan greeting, touching his hand to his forehead. 

Neteyam giggles deeply, lowering the camera. "You look good."

"Not as good as you, my love," Ao'nung smirks, sauntering over to the smaller male. He snaked an arm around his waist and steals a kiss. 

Hopefully, nobody tries to stone them for it. 

"Then, we both look good," Neteyam murmurs tenderly, staring up into Ao'nung's pale blue eyes lovingly. 

Ao'nung gently takes the camera from him and nudges him to stand where he had been standing moments ago. 

Neteyam brings out one of his sweet, bunny-teethed smiles, dark skin illuminated by the soft lights of a city that doesn't sleep. 

They return back to their room soon after that, chattering amongst themselves lightheartedly. 

Ao'nung smirks, tugging Neteyam into the shower with himself, uncaring that the shorter male showered not long ago. 

Neteyam moans quietly, pressed up against the wall, Ao'nung taking him from behind, the water raining down on them. 

They go to sleep later than they planned, but pleasantly satisfied. 

In the morning, Ao'nung nearly has a heart attack from how loud Neteyam's alarm is. He sits up, gasping for air and looking around, trying to figure out where the absolute hell he is. 

Neteyam laughs at him, covering his face. "Calm down, Nung. It's just my alarm."

"What time—" Ao'nung whines out, rubbing at his eyes, hair a complete mess of braids and curls.

"It's six in the morning." Neteyam smiles up at him, amusement twinkling in his pale brown eyes. He stretches, naked torso on display. He's wearing a tiny silver dot in his belly button. 

Ao'nung bites the inside of his cheek. Neteyam looks delicious. Lips blump from freshly waking up, face shining a little from the natural oils the archer has yet to wash off. 

Ao'nung cannot even attempt to be mad at Neteyam for setting the alarm so early, not when he looks this good. 

Ao'nung smirks, silencing the phone and pulling the covers off of Neteyam's naked body, nudging his legs apart. "Are we in a hurry?" 

Neteyam moans softly as Ao'nung rakes his nails over his inner thighs. "No— unless you're bothered by walking in thirty degree heat."

Ao'nung grins, rolling his hips down against Neteyam's, drawing yet another sweet sound. "I don't mine a little heat, I'm an island boy after all."

Neteyam swallows thickly, reaching up to tug Ao'nung down into a kiss, legs on either sides of his hips. "Then we have all the time in the world."

Ao'nung doesn't waste even a second of that time. They tumble around in the sheets for a good hour, holding back their voices in case the walls are thin.

They visit the selfie museum and Ao'nung actually has fun. He pelts Neteyam with the little balls in the ball pit. They climb onto the giant carousel horses and pose in front of a wall of roses. There's a bathtub full of fake golden coins. 

Neteyam gets right in it, Ao'nung taking picture after picture. Ao'nung's favourite part is the fake hair salon. All pastel and very much retro. They ask a stranger to take a photo of them, sitting side by side in the hair machine things (the ones that go over your head, Ao'nung doesn't know what they're called). 

They leave after a few hours, dodging the noisy groups of tourists who try to take up the entire sidewalk. 

They take a bus to the a bistro Neteyam had picked. 

Ao'nung gapes. "What is this place?"

Neteyam grins. "Unicorn Bistro. I had to reserve a table last night. We still have to wait thirty minutes though." 

"Well, let's stand out here then."

"Nah, there's a bubble tea place a few streets down."

Ao'nung blinks in surprise. "How do you know that?"

Neteyam holds up his phone, connected to a powerbank. He shows Ao'nung his opened Google Maps. "I want one."

Ao'nung gives in (and actually orders a tea himself). Neteyam doesn't actually poke a hole in the lid, putting the drink away in his bag for later. So Ao'nung copies him.

They make it back to the bistro with two minutes to spare. The entire bistro is pink. There's a huge white unicorn painted on the largest wall and a pale pink phone box in the corner. 

Ao'nung knows Tsireya would love this place. 

They both order burgers. Those are unicorn themed too, and they actually taste great. Ao'nung is surprised just as much as Neteyam, who did not expect the quality. There's an ice cream come placed onto the burgers to use it as the horn. It's a bit funny, but Neteyam is delighted. 

"Man, why is this actually so fun?" Ao'nung snorts out, covering his mouth as he eyes his black burger. 

Neteyam chose a vegan option. 

"Because pink is cool, Nung." Neteyam eats carefully, but the burger is so large, it's hard to not get messy. 

Ao'nung hums in response. "What did you plan for tomorrow?"

Neteyam takes a moment to chew and swallow before replying. "Nothing nearly as pink as this. I was thinking about checking out a museum and then there's a jazz concert in the evening that I got tickets for."

"I didn't know you like jazz," Ao'nung comments nonchalantly. 

Neteyam chuckles softly, shaking his head. "There was that and Harry Potter with a live orchestra. In Hungarian. Tempting, but we wouldn't understand a thing." 

"You're tempting." Ao'nung grins as Neteyam flushes, averting his gaze. 

"Which museums were you thinking about?" Ao'nung asks eventually once they finish their food.

Neteyam exhales deeply and subtly unbuttons his pants, pulling his shirt down over it to hide his antics. "There's one right next to that Uni I mentioned. I don't remember the name, but we can check it out back at the apartment."

That night, they go home a little earlier after  walking through half the city in the glaring summer heat.

Ao'nung lazes around on the bed with Neteyam. They're both looking at museums and more possible concerts. 

"So, tomorrow is our second day here and it's looking pretty packed." Neteyam sips on bis bubble tea that he had been cooling in the fridge since they got back. "I left Wednesday completely free. Wanna go to the zoo?"

Ao'nung flops down onto his back and sets his phone down. "Nah. There's zoos back home." 

"Termal Bath?" Neteyam asks curiously. "It's right next to it. We could do both." 

Ao'nung shakes his head, scrunching his nose. "Nope. Let's go back to the Parlament in the morning. I really liked that place."

Neteyam nods. "Margaret Island is close by. I read they have a musical fountain." 

Ao'nung grins. "Then, that is decided."

---

The next day, they loiter around two museums in the comfort of air conditioning for a few hours before picking a random Chinese restaurant to have lunch. 

Neteyam then drags Ao'nung shopping on Váci Street, enjoying the expensive feel of such a place. The street itself is a little unpleasant with how many people there are, but the shops are nice. 

"How's this shirt?" Neteyam asks softly, tapping Ao'nung's shoulder from behind.

"Weird colour." Ao'nung picks up a deep green Zara shirt and tilts his head in thought. He holds it up in front of Neteyam's body. 

Neteyam smiles at him, eyes lingering on the surfer's lips. 

"How bout I style you, Tey?" Ao'nung asks eventually. "I'm sure we can find a nice, European look for you here."

Neteyam bites into his lower lip before nodding. "Then, I'll style you, too."

Ao'nung doesn't really care for fashion, but they still have a few hours to spare before the jazz concert. He recognises the song playing on the speakers and smirks. Sad songs are in. Freeze You Out by Marina Kaye drowns out the voices of the other shoppers. 

"Come this way, Tey." Ao'nung takes his wrist gently and tugs him across the shop to the stairs leading up to the men's sections. "This place is huge. Why does a clothing store need three storeys?"

Neteyam chuckles at Ao'nung's whining, barely dodging a very loud group of Spanish women. "This is basically the shopping street of the city, Nung. Why would it not need to be so big?"

Ao'nung shrugs. His eyes land on a magnificent short sleeved silk shirt. He immediately dashes for it, grabbing the light blue version. 

Neteyam follows after him, stepping around a family of four. "That matches your eyes, Nung."

Ao'nung beams. "You need an M, right?"

Neteyam nods and takes the offered shirt from Ao'nung's hand. Ao'nung saunters over to the pants and Neteyam slips away to find something for his surfer boy. 

He comes across a soft green dress shirt and holds up his pale blue one next to it. It's not silk, like the one Ao'nung chose for him, but it looks nice. There's a small bird with a fancy hat sewn onto the pocket. He picks up a medium and a large. 

Ao'nung watches him from the side, smiling faintly before continuing his quest to find the nicest pair of white pants for Neteyam. 

Neteyam picks out a pale brown pair for Ao'nung. 

They return to their room after trying and paying to change into clean clothes for the concert. 

Ao'nung ends up enjoying it more than he thought he would. Neteyam holds his hand as they sit side by side, enjoying the performance. 

---

Neteyam wakes up before Ao'nung's alarm the next morning and nudges him awake. 

Ao'nung grumbles something about being awake at the asscrack of dawn and promptly rolls over to lie right onto Neteyam, trapping him.

Neteyam laughs, cheeks squished. He hugs Ao'nung's naked shoulders and lets himself relax until the surfer feels ready to wake up. It doesn't take too long.

They get up, skipping out on a morning tumble through the sheets in favour of having breakfast. 

They sit at the counter in comfortable silence. Neteyam scrolls on his phone for things to do. He chose a midnight flight back home to give them more time. 

Ao'nung yawns, scrolling through his Instagram feed. He thinks about posting something, but decides against it. He'll just do it at the airport or at home. He rolls his eyes at a post from Lo'ak and Tsireya. They both got dolled up for some sort of festival. 

"Are you ready to head out?" Ao'nung asks quietly, biting his lower lip, eyebrows raised.

Neteyam turns to face him, mouth full of fruit. He points to his good and Ao'nung snorts, reaching up to ruffle up the archer's braids. Neteyam swats him away. 

"Are you in a hurry?" Neteyam whines eventually and blinks in surprise when Ao'nung nods.

"We have to fly home today," Ao'nung chides gently. 

Neteyam rolls his eyes. "At midnight. We don't need to leave for the airport till around nine. There's a direct bus."

Ao'nung purses his lips and furrows his brows. 

Neteyam sighs softly and places a hand on Ao'nung's arm. "I'll get ready, give me a second."

"Will you wear what I got you?" Ao'nung asks quietly, eyes wide with hope.

Neteyam swoons and nods. "Of course, Nung."

Ao'nung follows him back to the bedroom and allows his eyes to trail over Neteyam's body while the dark-skinned male dresses, facing him. Neteyam buttons up the silk shirt carefully and smiles in satisfaction, straightening his shoulders as he presents himself to Ao'nung. 

Ao'nung tugs on the clothes Neteyam picked for him and kisses him quickly. He helps Neteyam pack snacks and water before they head out, locking the door well. 

"So, how come you want to go back to the Parlament?" Neteyam asks as they walk down the busy streets. 

Ao'nung shrugs, bumping shoulders with a woman who refuses to move out of the way, daring to instead try to make him scoot over. Ao'nung was already scooted as close to Neteyam as possible! He glares at her and she flushes, looking away. 

Neteyam snorts at the scene, scrunching his nose. "Nung?"

"Oh, sorry." Ao'nung laces their fingers, uncaring. He'll beat up whoever has a problem with them. "I just really liked it there and I want to see it again before we go home."

Neteyam nods, satisfied by his answer. 

They arrive just before ten after a quick ice cream stop. Neteyam wanders a bit further from Ao'nung to take some more photos of the enormous statue there, grinning at the typical yellow trolleys that drive by, packed to the fullest with people. 

A small dog runs up to him, barking happily. A worried owner hurries after it, stuttering something to Neteyam in broken English. Neteyam waves it off and leans down to offer his hand to the small pomeranian. 

"He's cute," he says brightly to the young woman.

She flushes and nods. "Thank you. He baby. Um. New dog."

Neteyam grins, nodding along to her words. "What's his name?"

"Sorry?"

"Name," Neteyam repeats. "Um. Molly? Scooby?"

The woman's eyes light up in recognition. "Habcsók. Is cake."

Neteyam doesn't attempt to pronounce it, petting the dog for a second longer before biding the stranger goodbye. 

Neteyam glances around and spots Ao'nung standing around, taking in the scenery with a smile on his face. 

Neteyam turns to look the other way, staring out towards the river. When he turns back around to find Ao'nung again, he startles back at a dark form by his feet. 

His eyes widen when he realises it's Ao'nung.  The surfer kneels in front of him and he's holding up a tiny box with shaking hands.

"Nung," Neteyam gasps out, vaguely aware of a growing crowd around them.

Ao'nung takes a deep breath. His voice breaks when he speaks. "Tey. Will you— will you marry me?"

Neteyam's hand flies to cover his mouth and his clenches his eyes to stop himself from crying. He sniffs and blinks rapidly, turning to stare at the sky for a moment before nodding. 

Ao'nung's shoulders sag in relief. Neteyam sinks down to his knees in front of him and wraps him in a hug. He hears a loud whistle and clapping but he cannot bring himself to look around.

Neteyam fully sits on the ground, clinging to Ao'nung. "Yes—"

"Oh, thank the Great Mother," Ao'nung wheezes out and pulls back, taking one of Neteyam's hands and grinning at him, eyes shining with tears he refuses to let fall. 

Neteyam grins as Ao'nung slides a twinkling, silver ring onto his finger. It's simple with a few shiny, white stones. 

They stand up slowly and the crowd goes back to what they were doing. 

Ao'nung wraps an arm around Neteyam's waist and points towards a man. "Smile for the camera, Tey."

Neteyam laughs, cheeks flushing further. "You managed to hire a photographer in a different country?" 

Ao'nung shrugs. "He's American." 

Neteyam turns to face Ao'nung, placing his hands against the surfer's reddened cheeks. He leans up slowly and presses a gentle kiss to Ao'nung's lips. 

He can hear the cameraman click away.

Notes:

*drops mic* 🎤

Chapter 44: Sweet Kisses

Summary:

I have come to realise that i listen to the most unhinged shit when studying 📖
Like coton eye Joe, ymca and gangnam style 😭😭🤣🤣
Sophie, skip to the second half lol

Notes:

Did i make a weheartit collection for this fic?
Yes
So pretty pls check it out im in love with the images
https://weheartit.com/LilBerryGurl_/collections/190208382-golden-eyed-golden-child?usr=63725800

---

The photographer accompanies them to Margaret Island after spending a good hour taking photos of them by the riverside of the Danube.

Ao'nung is so excited he can barely contain himself. Not even the old people glaring at them kissing can bring him down.

Neteyam doesn't even notice. 

"Tilt your head a little to the left, Neteyam.  That's right, that's good. And perfect!" The photographer, John, calls out to them as they stand by the fountain.  

There's a lot of people there. Most of them are respectful and stay out of their way, though there is the occasional child or group of teenagers stumbling into the shot.

John is enthusiastic and kind. He shows them the photos every few minutes so Neteyam and Ao'nung can fix whatever they don't like about themselves. 

"Okay. Ao'nung, you should hug Neteyam from behind," John instructs, camera held at the ready. He gives a satisfied nod.

Neteyam leans in to Ao'nung's touch, smiling up at him before his eyes widen in surprise. Ao'nung picks him up swiftly, making Neteyam grasp on to his arms and kick his legs forward to keep from toppling back to far. 

A laugh bursts from his lips and John lets out a satisfied noise as he clicks away. 

Eventually, they finish taking pictures and John bids them goodbye. 

Ao'nung and Neteyam head back to their room to collect their things. 

"We have some time to rest," Neteyam murmurs tenderly.

Ao'nung turns to face him and catches the dark-skinned male gaze down at his ring with a gentle smile. Ao'nung bites his lip to stop himself from swooning. 

Neteyam touches the ring on his finger with a fingertip happily, tracing the stones. 

"We should get some food," Ao'nung suggests. 

Neteyam hums, sauntering up to him. "I want to have some of you instead." 

Ao'nung flushes, desire igniting in his core. "Oh, is that so?"

Neteyam smirks, trailing a hand up Ao'nung's side, slipping it under his shirt. He leans up, ghosting his lips over Ao'nung's. "Indeed. Completely bare."

Ao'nung shudders, grasping Neteyam's hips tightly. He swiftly picks the smaller male up and carries him to the bed. Ao'nung throws Neteyam down onto the soft mattress and climbs over him, nudging his legs apart.

Neteyam doesn't let. He tilts his head back with a coy smile. "I don't think so."

Ao'nung pauses, staring down at Neteyam. "No?"

"No," Neteyam murmurs, pupils dilating. In one swiftly motion, he flips them around and settles on Ao'nung's lap. "I want it like this."

Ao'nung grins, settling down comfortably. He places his hands back on Neteyam's hips in a loose grip and watches him.

Neteyam sits up straight, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, revealing more and more of his skin. Neteyam let his shirt slide down, pooling in a pale blue pile around his hips. Ao'nung helps him set it aside. 

The surfer's hands trail up Neteyam's sides until his fingertips ghost over his nipples. He keeps one hand there, rubbing the sensitive skin slowly. His other hand slips down towards Neteyam's stomach. Ao'nung flicks his belly button piercing lightly.

Neteyam huffs out a small laugh and rolls his hips down against Ao'nung's. The metcayinan male moans softly, cheeks flushing deep red. 

Neteyam reaches down, hurriedly unbuttoning Ao'nung's shirt as well and helping him tug it off. Ao'nung pops the buttons of their pants open and helps Neteyam tug his shorts off along with his boxers. 

Now that they're both naked except for their accessories, Neteyam settles back down on Ao'nung's lap, rich brown thighs caging Ao'nung's tanned skin.

Pale brown eyes flutter shut as Ao'nung rubs a finger over one of his nipples once again. The sensation causes the skin to harden. A moan slips past Neteyam's lips, uncontained by the cage of his teeth. His head tilts back and he lets Ao'nung have his fun.

The surfer sits up. 

Ao'nung's teeth press firmly into the soft flesh of Neteyam's throat. He sucks, leaving his mark, to be hidden by thin braids. Neteyam is marked as his, and only he gets to see it.

Neteyam moans softly, head tilted to the side to allow Ao'nung better access. Ao'nung sucks a smaller bruise next to the first one, tongue flicking over the reddened skin soothingly before he bites down again, edging Neteyam on, teasing him.

Neteyam moans quietly, closing his eyes. Ao'nung smirks. Neteyam grabs him by the back of his neck, tugging him into a heated kiss. Their teeth click together gently from the force. 

Neteyam's gasping, already lost in pleasure as Ao'nung reaches down, wrapping a hand around his member, stroking slowly, edging him on.

Ao'nung grins, free hand coming to grasp Neteyam's ass shamelessly, tugging him closer. Neteyam lets out a shuddery breath. Ao'nung keeps his eyes glued to Neteyam's face, unable to tear them away, by the freckles scattered along his dark skin.

Ao'nung kisses him, moving his hand up and down Neteyam's shaft just how Neteyam likes it — Neteyam whines into his mouth, voice high and needy. He needs to be Ao'nung's, needs the surfer to take him. Ao'nung squeezes him, making Neteyam curl forward with another deep moan.

Ao'nung smirks at his neediness and picks up the pace of his hand, squeezing gently from time to time, thumbing at the sensitive skin of Neteyam's tip, grinning when he feels how wet Neteyam has gotten from his touches.

Neteyam's body feels hotter than the sun, he feels like a volcano ready to erupt — Ao'nung takes a deep, shaky breath. He wants more. He needs more, or he'll lose his mind completely — he aches to take Neteyam right then and there with an animalistic desire, but he holds back. Instead, Ao'nung strokes him a few times before slipping his fingers lower, slick with Neteyam's precum.

Neteyam spreads his legs a little and gasps. Ao'nung traces Neteyam's entrance with one of his fingertips, teasing him, before slowly pushing it inside, bumping it with a lazy rhythm. Neteyam takes a shaky breath, fingers digging into Ao'nung's upper arms. 

Neteyam parts his legs a little, lips parted in silent gasps. He grips Ao'nung by the shoulders and whines out — Ao'nung wants to rile him up, so he curls his finger right into Neteyam's sweet spot. A second finger soon slips inside, the stretch making Neteyam flush, pupils blown wide. 

"Nungie," he whimpers, glossy-eyed. With a moan, he rolls his hips down to meet the lazy rhythm of Ao'nung's fingers. "Please, more. I need more, it feels so good."

Ao'nung listens to him babble needily, biting his lip to keep from moaning at his fiancé's voice. He stretches his fingers out, sneaking a kiss to Neteyam's jaw. 

Neteyam moans softly, cheeks flushing deep red  as Ao'nung presses a final finger into his body, stretching him open deliciously. Neteyam's hips buck in response to the stimulation. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, slick with spit. He rakes his nails down Ao'nung's arms. 

Ao'nung stretches his fingers out, drawing breathless noises from Neteyam. Ao'nung curls his fingers, pressing firm fingertips against Neteyam prostate, rubbing the little bundle of nerves and making Neteyam moan loudly.

Neteyam grabs his wrist, tugging Ao'nung's hand away. "Please, Nung, just take me. I really want you."

Ao'nung smirks, enjoying the unusually verbal behaviour from Neteyam. He nuzzles against his cheek, kissing the heated skin. "Whatever you want, beautiful."

Neteyam's toes curl at the compliment. He rolls his hips against nothing but air, body open and needy. He sits in Ao'nung's lap, straddling him. Ao'nung runs his arms down Neteyam's sides, trailing to his back, slipping down to kneed the flesh of his ass before a hand comes to ghost over his stomach, tracing the piercing lightly. Neteyam presses into the touch. 

A surprised noise breaks from his throat as Ao'nung pushes him down onto his back, settling between his thighs and leaning over him.

Ao'nung lowers himself, reaching between their bodies to line himself up against Neteyam's entrance, rubbing his tip against the loosened rim, teasing the dark-skinned male. His wheeping tip catches on Neteyam's stretched entrance, drawing breathless moans from both of them. Ao'nung doesn't press in just yet. He rolls his hips lazily, length rubbing against Neteyam's hole. His tip bumps against Neteyam's balls, making the archer gasp in surprise, entire body twitching. 

"Ao'nung, please," he exhales, voice trembling slightly. "I need you, please, just—"

Ao'nung shushes him with a sweet kiss, teeth nibbling on his lower lip. Neteyam parts his lips, tongue poking out; Ao'nung lets him slip it into his mouth, pleasantly surprised at the welcome intrusion. Neteyam hardly ever initiates making out. 

Ao'nung's member twitches, needy and dripping. He grasps himself by the base, lips never leaving Neteyam's. He presses his tip to Neteyam's entrance again, free hand coming to grasp the back of Neteyam's thigh, keeping his leg up. Ao'nung's precum smears Neteyam's skin as he rubs himself against the archer. 

Ao'nung presses kisses to Neteyam's shoulder, repeating the motion, playing around still. He presses his tip against the waiting entrance but never pushes in, only applying slight pressure.

"Please, Nung—"
Neteyam's breath hitches, entire body tensing at the feeling.

Ao'nung sucks on his throat. "Be patient, my love."

"But, Ao'nung, I—" 

"I'll give you what you need in a second, " Ao'nung chides, teeth nipping the dark skin of Neteyam's shoulder. 

Neteyam rolls his hips down, trying to get Ao'nung to press into him; Ao'nung smirks, pulling back.

"Nung, I swear if you don't fuck me right now—" Neteyam's voice breaks of in a silent scream as Ao'nung pushes into Neteyam's body, stretching him open deliciously, slowly. He stops when he's halfway in and pulls out almost completely.

Ao'nung strokes him in time with his thrusts. "What did I tell you about patience, Tey?"

Neteyam curses under his breath. He tangles his fists in the sheets, mind hazy from the stinging pain of Ao'nung taking him. Neteyam loves this pain. It's the perfect kind — mixed with pleasure and desire.

Ao'nung rocks into Neteyam slowly, peppering kisses along the skin of his throat, pushing his hair out of the way with one hand when the braids get in the way of his affections.

Neteyam grabs his hips, trying to drag Ao'nung closer. "Faster, Nung."

Ao'nung pulls back before snapping his hips forward, making Neteyam moan loudly. Ao'nung rubs Neteyam's member with one hand, the other digging fingertips into the junction between Neteyam's legs and hips.

Neteyam clenches around him on purpose. The feeling causes Ao'nung's hips to stutter.

"Fuck, Tey. If you do that, I won't last long," he gasps out next to Neteyam's ear.

Neteyam smirks coyly, biting his lower lip. He bats his lashes, doing it again. Ao'nung shudders in pleasure, thumbing at Neteyam's tip. He smears the precum along the length, yerking him off slowly.

"Self control, Nungie," Neteyam teases, voice a mere murmur along their pants.

Ao'nung hisses, snapping his hips forward roughly. "To hell with self control. I'm going to fuck you so hard you're going to limp all the way home."

Neteyam inhales shakily, clenching his eyes shut, dark lashes twinkling with little droplets of pleasure.

Ao'nung pulls out swiftly and turns Neteyam around, reaching down to grasp him by the thighs. Neteyam closes his eyes, moaning softly as Ao'nung pulls him onto his hands and knees.

Ao'nung adjusts himself into place and slams inside to the hilt on one smooth motion. Neteyam arches his back and covers his mouth to stop himself from screaming.

Ao'nung pulls back slowly until only his tip is inside — then, he slams inside. Tingles shoot up Neteyam's spine as his sweet spot is rammed into repeatedly — his body rocks forward with each thrust, Ao'nung holds him by the hips, pulling his back meet the snaps of his hips.

Neteyam's breaths come out as little whispers of pleasure; he's whining and moaning and whimpering depending on the force of Ao'nung's trusts, toes curling, uncurling. He grasps at the sheets, crumbling them. His release is nearing, thighs cramping.

Ao'nung slams into him mercilessly, leaning over him, biting into his shoulder — Neteyam clenches around him, shaking in desire. Pleasure shoots along his every nerve, drawing his orgasm closer. 

"Nung, I'm gonna, I'm," he babbles mindlessly, arms giving out. Neteyam's upper body falls forward, ass in the air. He whimspers, voice cutting of with a rough thrust.

Ao'nung leans back, eyes lingering on the beautiful marks of white littering Neteyam's back. He pushes his braids away to expose the patch of Vitiligo on the back of his neck. Neteyam doesn't even notice, orgasm washing over him like a relentless wave of boiling water. Ao'nung doesn't stop, fucking him through it, chasing relief.

Ao'nung gasps out Neteyam's name, head falling back, eyes half lidded as he stares up at the ceiling. Ao'nung can feel his pleasure building up rapidly, ready to take over his senses.

Neteyam moans softly, cheeks moist with tears of overwhelming pleasure, body oversensitive as Ao'nung still rocks into him. 

"Fill me, please, Nung—"

Ao'nung shudders, breath coming out ragged as he coats Neteyam's walls with his release, filling him deep — he wants Neteyam to struggle washing the cum out of himself, wants to leave his mark and mark Neteyam as his.

Neteyam bites his lip as Ao'nung pulls out, leaving him empty, gaping.

Ao'nung rubs a finger against his stretched out rim before pushing it in. Neteyam's body is soaked, completely wrecked inside. He flops down onto his stomach, lower body tingling. 

"I love you," Ao'nung whispers in his ear, leaning over him. He lays down next to his fiancé, rolling Neteyam on to his side to spoon him, firm arms wrapping around the trembling body. 

Neteyam smiles softly, eyes half lidded. He grasps Ao'nung's arms around him and presses his back tighter against Ao'nung's chest. "I love you, too."

 

---

Neteyam gets off the plane, exhausted.

Ao'nung trails after him, slow and sluggish. If Neteyam had not woken him up, he would still be sleeping on an empty plane.

The flight had been long, but they flew at night. The timezone difference also was not too bad, so they avoided being jetlagged.

Neteyam watches Ao'nung, smiling fondly at the taller male. As he walks, he runs his thumb over his new ring, tracing the small bumps formed by the crystals. He feels his heart flutter in anticipation at telling his family about his engagement. 

Ao'nung glances down at Neteyam and feels his lips tug up in a smile as he notices Neteyam tracing the ring. 

Ao'nung can already imagine Neteyam in traditional omaticayan tribal wear, dolled up and hair down. At least, Ao'nung images Neteyam will take out his braids because Ao'nung will let his own hair down. 

"Look, Nung." Neteyam gestures across the area, excitement bubbling in his core. "I can see my parents over there."

Ao'nung inhales sharply. "Oh. Okay. Yeah."

Neteyam stops walking, turning to face Ao'nung fully. He places a gentle hand on his arm, the one he wears his engagement ring. "It'll be fine."

"I didn't ask for their permission–"

"It's my hand you're asking for, not theirs," Neteyam replies easily, grinning. "Besides, my dad can't judge. He married my mum in secret."

Ao'nung lets out a startled laugh. "Did he?"

Neteyam shrugs, biting back his giggles. "Yes, because I happened. That can't happen to us."

"It could happen to my sister!" Ao'nung protests half-heartedly, rubbing a hand over his face. 

Neteyam snorts, shaking his head. "Lo'ak is impulsive, but he holds tradition in high regard. He'd never do that."

"But what if he does —"

Neteyam moans in annoyance. "Ao'nung, I love you but please shut up."

"I'm shut."

Neteyam, stunned, watches Ao'nung's face for a moment before he bursts out laughing. "Hello, Shut. I'm Neteyam. Ao'nung's fiancé."

Ao'nung's brain chooses that moment to short-circuit. "Holy fuck. Say that again."

"I'm— I'm your fiancé, Nung," Neteyam murmurs tenderly, lifting a hand to Ao'nung's flushed cheek. 

Ao'nung grins, eyes glossing over. For a second, they merely gaze at one another, fingertips ghosting over pinkened cheeks before the damn breaks.

Ao'nung lifts a hand to cover his eyes and his shoulders shake — he's so very unlike the cruel teenage boy who left Lo'ak stranded on the ocean and picked on Kiri for her moles and unusually tall height. Neteyam only smiles, keeping a hand on Ao'nung's upper arm silently, letting him have his moment. 

What Ao'nung doesn't notice is the way Neteyam's own eyes gloss over; he keeps his tears in but his heart is beating just as fast.

The crowded airport arrivals area suddenly feels very quiet.

"We need to go, Nung." Neteyam nods towards the exit, where their family is waiting, not yet seeing them.

Ao'nung nods, taking a shaky breath. "Sorry. I was just scared you'd say no. I mean, we've only been together for a few months and all."

Neteyam chuckles and they begin voting. "My dad kept implying you'd make a move on me before you actually did. I've also known you since we were fifteen."

Ao'nung nods, lips pursed. He does not look entirely convinced but accepts Neteyam's answer. 

Lo'ak spots them first and covers his mouth, wide-eyed. Neteyam pauses, confused. 

"Does my brother know?" Neteyam asks, still out of earshot.

Ao'nung only nods and notices the way Neteyam's steps are much slower than before. "Are you nervous?" 

Neteyam gulps. "He's gonna be loud about it. And we made a bet."

Ao'nung snorts. They get stuck behind a large group of foreigners with a million ssuitcases by the exit. "What kind of bet?"

Neteyam tries to peek past them, but gives up when he realises they take up the entire hallway and it is impossible to cut them off. "That he'd be engaged before me."

Ao'nung inhales sharply before doubling forward, laughing in hysterics. He startles some unfortunate toddler into crying with how loud he is. "Now why would you make that bet?"

The tourists finally scatter and they make it to their families. Neteyam doesn't answer Ao'nung's last question, only shrugging. He seems to be hiding his hand behind his back.

Tuktirey is the first to spot them (after Lo'ak of course, who is still frozen, eyeing them). She runs to her eldest brother and flies into his arms. Neteyam drops his suitcase handle, making the bag topple over noisily. He picks up Tuktirey, spinning her around, cooing to her.

Ao'nung's own baby sister is making grabby hands for him, but Ronal is watching her son with a gaze so intense, Ao'nung immediately makes a bee-line for his father instead. 

Tonowari smiles down at him, wrapping him in a one-armed hug. "Ao'nung. How was your trip?"

Neteyam glances their way and sets Tuktirey down on her own two feet. She dances around him in a few circles like a little fairy before skipping back to Neytiri. 

"It was..." Ao'nung's eyes trail to Neteyam's, meeting halfway. "Great. It was great, papa. He said yes."

Tonowari's gaze softens. His other arm wraps around Ao'nung's strong form and he guides Ao'nung's cheek to his shoulder with a hand on the back of his head. "Good job, son."

Jake Sully saunters over to them, blissfully unaware, cutting Ronal off without even noticing. "Ao'nung! You tanned, wow."

Ao'nung startles out of his father's embrace, cheeks dusting red. "I did—" 

Jake Sully pats his shoulder and looks him over. "You guys made it in one piece, too. Not gonna lie, I was worried."

Neytiri laced her fingers with Jake's and smiles tensely at Ronal. They haven't really spoken much since the incident with Neteyam and Lo'ak. Ronal nods once to her. 

"Let's get going," Lo'ak insists, visibly buzzing with excitement. Neteyam knows he's struggling to keep his mouth shut about the engagement and doesn't want to risk having this conversation at the airport.

Thankfully, his family is used to him already wearing rings, mostly gold, to really pay attention to his hands. Though, Lo'ak keeps trying to catch a glimpse of the ring. Neteyam keeps it out of sight for now, but he won't take it off.

Ao'nung cuddles up to Tsireya for a moment before he gets into Tonowari’s fatass car, grumbling about useless luxury. Jake hears him and shakes his head with an amused laugh. The pale male claps a hand on the back of Lo'ak's head and nudges him to the car.

Neytiri drives home, Jake falling asleep beside her almost immediately. Tuktirey is in her child's seat, dozing off as well, lulled by the soft humming off the car. 

Lo'ak has his lips pursed, eyes wide and glancing around. He face is read. He's sitting right behind Neytiri, Neteyam squished in the middle because Tuktirey's seat needs to be on the side for safety.

Neteyam sighs out softly and slowly places his hand in Lo'ak's. The younger Sully brother sits up straight and grasps Neteyam's hand, squeezing gently before he turns Neteyam's hand to be palm down. Lo'ak wraps his entire hand around Neteyam's ring finger and uses his other hand to poke at the pretty little ring. He seems absolutely mesmerised and Neteyam has to blink fast to keep his composure lest he might actually cry and catch the attention of his mother. 

They arrive home soon enough; Tuktirey wakes up and starts singing a new omaticayan song grandmother Mo'at taught her over a videocall. She's trying to imitate a firedance in the driveway while Jake and Neteyam unload the car — apparently, Neytiri decided to do the grocery shopping before driving to the airport. 

Lo'ak doesn't let Neteyam lift anything, ushering him inside. 

"What's going on with your brother, son?" Jake asks, amusement lacing his voice as he stops beside Neteyam, who's just taking his shoes off, one-handed.

"He missed me," Neteyam replies easily and laughs. He finally gets his shoes off and gives his father's shoulders a quick squeeze. 

Jake groans. "I'm gonna need you to do that later. My back hurts."

"Old man," Neteyam murmurs quietly and scurries away when Jake swats at him. Neteyam passes his mother and sister on his way upstairs and calls out to them. "I'm gonna shower."

"We're going to have lunch soon," Neytiri replies, already tying and apron around her waist.

Neteyam hurries upstairs and locks himself in the bathroom with a change of clothes. He gets his phone out and sits down on the side of the tub. 

Neteyam: Are things ready, Nung?

Nu'ung: Yeah. We're ready. Are you?

Neteyam: I'm going to shower but yeah, I think we can handle a surprise visit

Nu'ung: Rinse off shower or everything shower?

Neteyam: Mom's warming the food shower 

Nu'ung: Shiit, we're coming then. Take a long shower, Tsireya's still putting on makeup

Neteyam sighs out, nervous but relieved.

He ends up spending a good thirty minutes in the shower (and leaves the water running even after he's done).

He takes a moment to inspect his ring, before reaching for his little woven box of traditional jewellery. He picks an orange and a red feather for his hair and decorates the entries length of the braid he's put them on with teal, yellow and red beads. 

For a while, Neteyam stares at himself before shrugging. He smears dark brown coal liner in his waterlines and smudges it out a bit at the corners. It isn't like he's going to have many more engagement announcements for the rest of his life. He might as well go all out.  

For a second he wonders if he should put his cummerbund, a symbol of adulthood, over his shirt, but decides against it. Ao'nung probably won't wear his own either. 

Neteyam secures his chord of beads to his belt and smooths down the soft, cream coloured pants he's picked out. Sitting down on the toilet, he hums along to the running shower as he paints his nails gold, adding quick dry droplets to the paint right after. It works and he smirks, satisfied.  

Neteyam puts on his grandfather's old armband that has been passed down to him and as a final touch, picks out a necklace his mother had made him herself. 

His phone buzzes. 

Nu'ung: We're here, baby♡

Notes:

Sorry for the delay
I've actually been paying attention in my lectures this week😭🤣🙏🏻

Chapter 45: Family Meal

Summary:

Sorry (to those who dont read my other stories) for dropping off the face of the planet lol
I needed to write some Angst after realising my relationship isn't as good as I thought lmfaooo

Notes:

Sorry for typos xoxo

---

Neteyam pockets his phone and takes a deep, shaky breath. Ao'nung and his family are here. He swallows thickly and presses a soft kiss to the ring on his finger before smoothing down his shirt and shutting off the water. He steps out quietly and can hear a soft commotion downstairs. 

He stops at the top of the stairs, biting his lip and listening in. 

"Tonowari—" Jake's surprised exclaim teaches his ears. 

Neteyam presses himself against the wall and covers his lips, trying to stay silent even though he's close to fumbling around nervously. 

"Jake, greetings. I hope we are but intruding," Tonowari responds. 

"Oh, no. Not at all." Neteyam can hear Jake moving about, letting their guests. "We're about to eat. Neteyam seems to have drowned himself in that shower though, we were waiting for him."

Tonowari’s firm laugh booms. "It was a long trip. I'm sure he needs a moment to relax."

"What is this?" Neytiri’s voice calls out. Neteyam hears plastic bags rustling. 

Ronal replies easily, excitement tinting her voice. "I have prepared some food myself, since you weren't expecting us."

Neteyam relaxes and laces his fingers behind his back. He steps into view and doesn't miss his mother's gaze on him as she stands in the living room with all of their guests and Neteyam's siblings. 

Neytiri’s lips fall open in surprise at the sight of Neteyam all dolled up; soon, Ronal is watching him walk down as well, a shy smile on his face, cheeks dusted with nervous colour. Ao'nung's sharp inhale silences the chatter in the room. 

Jake stares between the two eldest sons in worry. 

"Teyam, " Ao'nung whispers in awe, dressed up himself. He has a small gift bag with him that he's holding with trembling hands. 

Ronal smiles fondly at her son first, then Neteyam before turning to Tonowari and lacing their fingers, squeezing gently and motioning towards Ao'nung with a tilt of her head. Tonowari’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he takes in the sight of two young men obviously in love.

"You're so pretty, Teyam!" Tuktirey shrieks in delight and jumps around, almost stomping right on Lo'ak's feet. He jumps back with a scowl of brotherly annoyance, rolling his eyes. 

"Thanks, Tuk," Neteyam grins, voice trembling slightly as he averts his gaze from his parents', hurrying over to Ao'nung instead. 

Ao'nung wraps him in a strong embrace, which Neteyam returns eagerly, snuggling into the surfer's side. "You look amazing, Tey."

Neteyam blushes at the praise and hides his face in Ao'nung's chest, twitching. "Thanks."

"Ugh, get a room—" Lo'ak protests, pretending to gag, barely avoiding Neytiri’s light swat at his head.

Tuktirey glares at him, cheeks puffed up. "Don't be mean, Lo'ak! They are so cute!"

"Alright," Jake cuts off a budding fight. He lifts his arms and presses on Lo'ak's chest, nudging him towards the kitchen. "Let's have lunch. Lo'ak, bring out extra plates."

Lo'ak whines. "But, dad–"

"Listen to your father," Neytiri chides him lightly. "Your girlfriend is a guest, too. Treat her with respect."

Ao'nung follows his family to the dining table as Neteyam makes a move to follow a defeated Lo'ak. Jake grabs his arm, holding him back. "What's going on?"

Neteyam shrugs, a swarm of butterflies twirling around in his stomach. "Surprise visit, I guess."

Jake doesn't look convinced, lips downturned and brows furrowed in worry. "That why you showered for an entire hour even though we told you we're heating the food?"

Neteyam shrugs, biting his lower lip nervously. "I— maybe."

Jake sighs out, shaking his head. He lets Neteyam's arm go and turns his searching gaze to his firstborn son. "He's not here to ask for my permission to marry you, is he?"

Neteyam nearly chokes on pure air. "No, definitely not. You don't have to worry about that. Really, dad."

Neteyam bites back a laugh. They're past asking for permission. Jake, however, seems satisfied by the answer and nods, shoulders slumping in relief.

Neteyam helps Lo'ak bring out the rest of the plates and set the table to accomodate four more people than they had originally planned. The air around them is awkward, since Ao'nung's family already knows about the engagement. Lo'ak sits down next to Tsireya, chattering with her, both of them buzzing with excitement. Eventually, everyone sits down and Neytiri is about to fill everyone's plate — but before she can do that, Neteyam stands, clearing his throat.

Jake Sully pales, all but matching the white walls of the dining area. They fall silent, watching Neteyam fumble about before taking a deep breath. 
"I have an announcement that I would like to make before we eat."

Tonowari smiles up at Neteyam from his seat, holding Ronal's hand between their plates on the table. He gives Neteyam a downturned smile, which Neteyam returns with his own shaky one.

Neytiri nods, eyeing her excited guests curiously. "Of course, go ahead, Neteyam."

Neteyam stutters uselessly for a second before he uncovers his hand and lifts it for everyone to see, ring twinkling gently in the sunlight peeking into the house. "Ao'nung and I are engaged-"

He doesn't manage to say anything else before Lo'ak is screaming, clapping loudly. Tsireya giggles, holding his upper arm to keep him from jumping across the table and tackling Neteyam.

Neytiri gets up, hand covering her mouth. Her wide, pale brown eyes rake across the people sitting at her dining table before she hurries over to Neteyam, nearly knocking Jake out of his chair.

"Oh, my son!" Neytiri exclaims, taking his hand in hers lovingly, running her thumb over the darling little ring. "It is so beautiful. I am so happy for you."

Jake gasps quietly, a little delayed as he processes the information his oldest son just dropped, shoulders shagging as he curls in on himself, covering his face. 

Neteyam purses his lips, swallowing thickly. "Dad?"

Jake hums quietly, peeking from behind his fingers. Neytiri chuckles, wrapping her arms around Neteyam. "Your father is very emotional right now, give him a moment."

"Okay," Neteyam whispers, stomach feeling like a hornet's nest under attack. 

Neytiri cups his cheeks, staring into his eyes lovingly. She grins, nose scrunching. Ao'nung watches them with a smile curling his lips up.

"You dressed up so pretty for this, my baby." Neytiri pulls her firstborn child into a warm hug, giggling when her sweet little Neteyam (not so little anymore) nuzzles into her embrace. She babbles to him in their mother tongue. Arms wrap around the both off them. Neteyam lifts his head, curious eyes peeking up at his father. Jake touches their foreheads together over Neytiri's shoulder.

"Are you happy?" Jake whispers, eyes soft and shiny with raw emotion.

Neteyam nods, snaking his arms around his father. "Yes."

"Then, I'm happy for you, son."

Ao'nung watches the scene, clutching his father's arm to ground himself. Tonowari turns to him with his head tilted. The large male smiles at his son, kind eyes crinkling.
"I'm proud of you," he whispers, leaning closer to his son, bumping his cheek with his nose.

"Wait!" Tuktirey shrieks out suddenly. "What's going on? What's it mean to be engayed?"

Neytiri’s giggle fills the room, right next to Jake's wheezy laugh. "Engaged, baby girl. With a g."

Neteyam grins, cackling quietly to himself. "She's not wrong."

Lo'ak snorts, startling Tsireya into a fit of giggles. She clings to her mother, covering her mouth with one hand. Ronal glances at her daughter before sharing an amused look with Tonowari. 

"Bro," Lo'ak sniggers. "That was awful, please never try to make jokes again."

Neteyam rolls his eyes playfully and smacks the back of Lo'ak's head before sitting back down, ignoring his brother's whining. 

"I still don't get it!" Tuktirey protests loudly, puffing her cheeks out and pouting. "Come on, tell me."

Neytiri smiles, petting his little braids, nails tapping on her beads gently. "Your brother is going to marry Ao'nung."

"Ooh!" Tuktirey squeals, clapping her hands. "That means Ao'nung will be my new big brother and Tsireya will be my sister!  Can they live with us? So we can play dress-up every time!"

Ao'nung watches the youngest Sully child bounce around in her seat, buzzing with excitement. 

Neytiri fills Tuktirey's plate with a generous amount of food, knowing she'll inhale it in seconds anyway. "They won't live here, but you can still see them, honey."

"Hey, I'm sure Ao'nung would look great in a tutu—" Lo'ak wheezes out, slapping his knee.

Ao'nung scowls at him. "After you, baby Sully."

Lo'ak squints. "That a dare?"

Ao'nung smirks. "Yes."

Notes:

Made a sweet lil playlist for Ao'nung on Spotify
Lemme know if u check it out 💗
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2eDTqXOsBVJrVonr8HHyBx?si=oWL8g1ihQd-cZWzcZFVpWw
It's very different from Neteyam's lol bc I think Ao'nung likes to hate on popular music xddd

Chapter 46: Headcanons

Summary:

So this was supposed to be the end note for the next chapter but I had too much fun and decided this deserves more spotlight than just a note

---

Some headcannons I have for this story that I haven't written in:

• Rotxo and Kiri go on dates to a Zoo Café once a month.

• Tsireya has endometriosis that makes her periods extremely painful and irregular.

• Rotxo knows that Lo'ak used to have a crush on him. 

• Ao'nung secretly is really good at baking.

• Kiri has an atokirina tattoo on her right ankle.

• Neteyam paints his toenails (usually dark blue or black).

• Ao'nung collects all the songs Neteyam shows him in a Spotify playlist. 

• Neteyam makes Weheartit mood boards and rants on quorra about his problems anonymously, then deletes his posts because he feels guilty.

• Tsu'tey and Sylwanin don't have any children because Tsu'tey is infertile. 

• Neteyam is insecure about being the only sibling with wavy hair instead of an afro. 

• Tsireya wants to get married in a big white princess gown.

• Lo'ak shaves his armpits and legs because body hair grosses him out (but only if it's his own).

• Rotxo has resurrected someone who died in a surfing freak accident. He had nightmares about it for six months. 

• Kiri is really close to Tuktirey despite not living with the Sully's and often makes bracelets with her and comes over just to see her.

• Lo'ak has caught Neteyam jerking off more times than he can remember because he always forgets to knock.

• Jake has walked in on Neteyam and Ao'nung with their hands shoved down each other's pants. 

• Neytiri researched gay sex just to give Neteyam advice.

• Ao'nung and Lo'ak compared dick sizes in a school bathroom stall in Ao'nung's senior year.

• Tonowari helped Ao'nung pick out the engagement ring and plan the proposal.

• Neteyam, Lo'ak, Rotxo and Ao'nung used to regularly have sleepovers at Rotxo's home before they all went to uni.

• Tsireya and Kiri go on study dates once a week.

• Ao'nung is really offended by the idea of dates (the fruit).

• Neytiri once walked in on Lo'ak taking a dick pic and took his phone for two months because he was thirteen. 

• Lo'ak used to cry a lot as a child (5-10yrs) and Neteyam would cuddle him and give him kisses.

• Neytiri didn't let Jake name the kids but they all have unofficial, English middle names.

• Jake once forgot Neteyam at the mall when he was twelve and went home without him. (Questionable parenting moment)

• Neteyam reads fanfiction and shares good ones with Kiri.

• Ao'nung secretly really likes the way Lo'ak smells but would rather die than admit it out loud.

• Kiri is diagnosed with severe social anxiety disorder and takes medication for it.

• Ao'nung played with Tsireya's dolls as a kid and always got into Ronal's makeup. 

• Rotxo has a tongue piercing. 

• Neteyam had braces in high school. 

• Lo'ak once broke his ribs before he fell out of a bunk bed on a family vacation and Jake sprained his ankle trying to catch him. 

• Neteyam tells Lo'ak everything about his sex life. 

• Lo'ak gets nervous holding Tsireya's hand but they sleep in the same bed.

• Lo'ak dared Neteyam to eat a bug and he did it right when Jake walked into the room. 

• Lo'ak broke his toe when he was fourteen by stubbing it on a table leg.

• Neteyam witnessed someone have a heart attack on the train when travelling to visit Mo'at by himself when he was 18.

• Ao'nung is absolutely terrified of moths.

• Tuk once gave the entire family lice that she picked up in Kindergärten and Jake almost had everyone shave their heads but Neteyam burst out crying so Jake spent hours treating them instead.

• Neteyam fell down the stairs once with a plate full of drinks and broke his wrist trying to throw the plate in a way he won't fall onto shards of glass.

• Lo'ak talks to himself when he's alone and sometimes does maladaptive daydreaming. 

• Jake figured out Ao'nung's crush on Neteyam before Ao'nung did. 

• (tw warning; medusa tattoo) Neteyam told Lo'ak about the SA with the teacher sometime after he told Ao'nung and Lo'ak confessed to experiencing something similar.

• Jake taught Neytiri how to slow dance and they do it in the living room to annoy the kids.

• Lo'ak has had to shoot someone in self defence during a break in when he was home alone.

• Lo'ak used to cry himself to sleep because his high-school classmates openly excluded him and now refuses to make new friends during uni unless someone introduces him.

• Ao'nung has a hard time waking up in the morning and always has to rush to get ready.

• Ronal has three brothers so Ao'nung and Tsireya have 9 cousins.

• Ao'nung is scared of thunder.

• Neteyam sleeps pressing his butt against Ao'nung's if they have their backs turned to each other.

♡

Chapter 47: Memories

Summary:

Lion10 said:

"Omg I would really like to read these:

• Lo'ak has caught Neteyam jerking off more times than he can remember because he always forgets to knock.

• Jake has walked in on Neteyam and Ao'nung with their hands shoved down each other's pants.

• Neteyam tells Lo'ak everything about his sex life.

• Ao'nung is scared of thunder.

• Jake figured out Ao'nung's crush on Neteyam before Ao'nung did.

• Neteyam reads fanfiction and shares good ones with Kiri... (and accidentally sends one to aonung.)"

So I did them, except for the thunder one 🤭

Notes:

Enjoy some jumping around in the timeline❤️

---

Lo'ak has caught Neteyam jerking off more times than he can remember because he always forgets to knock before barging into Neteyam's room. 

This time was no exception. 

Neteyam, freshly eighteen, had excused himself to his room not long before Lo'ak got bored and decided to hunt him down and bother him until he convinced Neteyam to play video games together. 

Lo'ak walks up the stairs, a silly little grin on his face. He passes his own room, before barging into Neteyam's, yanking the door open roughly.

He slams it shut behind himself and turns to the bed, expecting to find Neteyam there. "Hey, bro—"

Neteyam stares at him, wide eyed and mouth hanging open. He's frozen in place, sweatpants pushed down to his knees, grasping himself.

And Lo'ak sees everything. 

He screams, slapping his hands over his eyes and crumbles to his knees. "Holy fuck, not again!"

Neteyam yanks his pants up, accidentally snapping the waistband right onto his tip.

"I'm going to strangle you—" he whimpers, tears in his eyes, curling into a tight ball, red faced and mortified. 

Lo'ak keeps his eyes covered, shuffling closer to his brother. "You decent yet?"

"Oh, fuck off–" 

Lo'ak relaxes, climbing up onto the bed and perking down at his brother, curled up in a tight little ball. He notices Neteyam's phone lying unlocked behind the older male and cannot help himself, bending forward to sneak a peak.

Neteyam kicks him off the bed, snatching his phone back and locking it. "What do you want?"

"I'm bored!" Lo'ak cackles, rubbing his elbow. He stays sprawled out on the floor. "Was that a picture of—"

"Shut up!" Neteyam flushes, voice high and shaky. "Go bother someone else, asshole."

Lo'ak snorts, rolling his eyes. "So, you like men?"

Neteyam freezes, mouth hanging open — Lo'ak sneezes,  completely at ease. He sniffs, scratching the tip of his nose.

At Neteyam's silence, Lo'ak tilts his head, sitting up. "What?"

Neteyam tugs the covers up over his head and ignores him, heart beating wildly in his chest. Lo'ak climbs onto the bed and flops down onto him, nuzzling against the warm sheets covering his brother.

"Hey, bro. You know it's fine, right?" Lo'ak murmurs tenderly, eyes softening at the sound of a soft sob. He slips under the covers and curls around Neteyam's body protectively, rubbing his back. 

Neteyam takes a shaky breath. "Yeah. Thanks."

Lo'ak presses a kiss to his forehead, like their mother often does and holds Neteyam close, whispering little encouragements to him.

Neteyam relaxes, inhaling Lo'ak's comforting scent, recognising his cologne. 

 

---

Jake has walked in on Neteyam and Ao'nung with their hands shoved down each other's pants before, completely blindsided by the situation. 

In his defence, the two had been in the living room, house empty — until Jake arrived, that is. Early. 

 

Neteyam moans softly, cheeks dusting with colour as Ao'nung trails kisses down his throat. He's lying on his back on the sofa, Ao'nung between his legs, fully clothed.

The archer slips his hand down Ao'nung's chest, tracing the soft trail of hair under his belly button before his hand disappears under the waistband of Ao'nung's pants, grasping the male's hard member, stroking slowly. 

Ao'nung inhales sharply, rocking into Neteyam's hand, rolling his hips. "You sure we still have time?"

Neteyam whines quietly as Ao'nung grabs him through the fabric of his jeans. "Yeah. Mom's at Tuk's parent teacher meeting and — ah, shit, Nung — dad's still at work."

Ao'nung smirks, stealing a kiss as he slips his hand into Neteyam's pants, wrapping firm fingers around the dark-skinned male's erection, feeling the wetness of his boxers against the back of his hand. 

"What's got you so wet, darling?" Ao'nung murmurs against Neteyam's lips, thumbing at the sensitive skin of Neteyam's tip. 

"You—" Neteyam moans into Ao'nung's mouth, toes curling. He pants softly, eyes half lidded. 

Ao'nung grins down at him, eyes full of desire. He breathes heavily as Neteyam yerks him off, following Ao'nung's rhythm on his own member. 

The front door slams open and Jake Sully brusts inside, only to freeze in place, eyes falling upon the two young men on the sofa, tangled limbs and hands places Jake definitely did not need to see.

The shopping bags fall from hands. "Boy!"

Ao'nung jumps back, falling off the sofa with a startled shout, accidentally tearing off the button of Neteyam's jeans as he yanks his hand free. 

Neteyam flinches, bringing his knees up to his chest. He glances between Ao'nung and Jake, entire body rigid with fright.

Ao'nung scurries to his feet, zipping up his pants hurriedly. 

Jake stares at them in disbelief. "What's the point of you having your own room, Neteyam? Jesus, kid."

Ao'nung swallows thickly, wiping his hand on his pant leg — Jake ignores him, but he notices. 

Neteyam hides his face in his knees and whines out in embarrassment. "You weren't supposed to come home so soon!"

Jake deadpans. "Well, I did. Gosh, get outta my sight."

Neteyam jumps to his feet, grabbing Ao'nung by his wrist and yanking him upstairs, slamming his bedroom door behind them.

"Shit, Nung. You tore my stupid jeans—"

Ao'nung purses his lips and puffs his cheeks up. "Your zipper skinned my hand."

Neteyam closes his eyes and inhales shakily. "I'm never going to live this down."

 

---

Neteyam tells Lo'ak everything about his sex life.

It drives Lo'ak up the wall, especially since he himself has no experience at all, and will likely continue on not having any for a few more years.  

Still, he entertains his brother, letting Neteyam tell him whatever he feels Lo'ak should know about. Lo'ak doesn't think he needs to know any of this at all.

Then, Lo'ak pauses, furrowing his brows. "Wait, really? He actually does that for you?"

Neteyam shrugs, stealing some of Lo'ak's apple slices. "Yeah. Why?"

They're lazing around in Lo'ak's bed, days before Ao'nung and Neteyam's trip to Europe. 

Lo'ak's nose scrunches and he promptly moves his plate out of reach. He's not willing to share his green apples. They've already ran out of the red ones, so he's content in letting Neteyam starve if it means he gets to keep his precious green apples. He swats away Neteyam's hand when the older male tries to take another piece.

"I mean," Lo'ak sniffs, stuffing his face. "I could never eat a man out."

"Good for you then, baby bro, because Tsireya isn't a man," Neteyam chuckles, shaking his head. He rubs his slapped hand gingerly. 

Lo'ak rolls his eyes. "Or her. I just don't really see the appeal."

Neteyam tilts his head. "But you've tried it before, right?"

"Yeah," Lo'ak admits, flushing in embarrassment. "It's just not my thing."

Neteyam nods in understanding. "I couldn't do it for Ao'nung either." 

Lo'ak bites the inside of his cheek, rubbing his bare feet together nervously. "What does it feel like?"

Neteyam glances around the room, pursing his lips, trying to find the right words. "It's very warm. I don't know how to explain it. But his tongue actually feels hard, you know, cause he's flexing the muscle. I thought it would feel soft."

Lo'ak stuffs his mouth with two slices, trying not to gag at the mental image. "You like?"

Neteyam shrugs casually, flopping down onto his back. "It's okay. I don't really ask for it."

"If you do, clean your ass—"

Neteyam clicks his tongue, clenching his teeth. "I already know that, bro."

Lo'ak smirks, setting his empty plate down on the floor next to the bed before lying down on his side, facing Neteyam. "No, cause you definitely didn't wash up before your first time–"

Neteyam slaps him in the face with a pillow wordlessly.

---

Jake figured out Ao'nung's crush on Neteyam before Ao'nung did. He saw it in the young surfer's eyes before they even graduated high school — the way he would gaze at Neteyam and then look scandalised when he caught himself.

Now, Jake stares at his son and immediately, he is assaulted by memories of all the times he sniggered about Ao'nung and his awkwardness around sweet, young Neteyam. 

Especially one summer's day when both boys were seventeen, allowed to have their first beers together in the Sully's backyard, red cheeked and cackling, hitting each other with pool noodles while Lo'ak sulked next to them for not getting alcohol privileges like the two older boys.

Jake had sat down on a blanket, sipping his own beer, sour cherry flavoured, watching the two muck around, blasting music in languages he couldn't even guess.

It was on this day that he realised Neteyam reciprocated Ao'nung's feelings (and of course, he knew about the truth or dare kiss). 

Neteyam had tripped, toppling over and dragging Ao'nung down with him — Ao'nung had grabbed the back of Neteyam's head, cushioning it. The surfer had yelped before he fell face first onto Neteyam's chest, knocking the breath out of the shorter male.

Lo'ak had rolled his eyes at them and simply sauntered inside, sulking.

Then, Jake got to his feet, ready to protest and send the two inside as well, until he noticed them gazing into each other's eyes, lips parted, eyes glossy. Mesmerised — unaware of their tangled limbs and the pool noodle awkwardly squished under them.

Jake had chuckled, shaking his head, sitting back down and averting his gaze, not missing the sudden gasps and nervous stuttering that followed the separation of the two.

He had smirked to himself. 

 

---

One thing Ao'nung doesn't know about Neteyam is that he reads less than family friendly fanfiction. 

Not only that — Neteyam reads fanfiction and shares the good ones with Kiri. 

It's three in the morning, Neteyam is delirious from the lack of sleep — he tends to mess up his sleeping schedule in the summer. But he's pleasantly satisfied, tingling all over.

Neteyam began rewatching Peaky Blinders a few days ago with Kiri and Lo'ak, and let his mind stray, leading him down a rabbit hole. First, he only saves photos onto his phone of his favourite characters, then, he stumbles upon the stories, especially curious about the ones rated explicit.

The letters are starting to smudge together, but he fights his way through the last couple paragraphs, mouth hanging open. 

He copies the link and opens his messages, locating Kiri’s icon and tapping it. His eyes fall shut for a moment before he remembers he what he wants to do. 

Neteyam: Heyy i think yokll like thks [link]

He sends the message and then knocks out cold, phone still in hand.

In the morning, he's disoriented and foggy from sleeping so little. But he does notice he has a text and assumes it's from Kiri. 

Nu'ung: what's this, Tey?

Neteyam: What do you mean? It's a fic lol

Nu'ung: I can see that. Since when do you read this stuff?

Neteyam: I've literally been sending you stuff like this for years 

Nu'ung: Baby, I love you but literally no you haven't 

Neteyam freezes, suddenly wide awake.

Neteyam: Wait. Did you read it?

Nu'ung: Yeah 

Neteyam curses, rubbing his forehead in disbelief; he's just accidentally sent Ao'nung explicit fanfiction. He wants to jump off a cliff or maybe set himself on fire. 

Nu'ung: We can recreate it ;)

Neteyam chokes on his own breath, face burning. He promptly sets his phone down and sits up, pressing his fists into his eyes, grumbling to himself.

Ao'nung knows. What Neteyam doesn't know is that Ao'nung also knows the message wasn't meant for him, because he told Rotxo, and Rotxo told him Neteyam usually sends them to Kiri.

The way Ao'nung sees things — what Neteyam doesn't know about, won't hurt him.

Notes:

Spent 15 mins trying to find what Neteyam's new name is in his chat with Ao'nung and i never did so
Rip to me

BTW check out my twitter I made to post silly little things about my fics at ealirel_txepvi

Chapter 48: Headcanons II.

Summary:

In a bit of a slump w this story so I'm bringing more headcanons plus scenes I ended up not including while i wait an hour cause i missed the bus🙃 😅

Notes:

Enjoy 😉 ❤️

---

More headcanons for this story: 

• Rotxo has a habit of falling asleep on the bus and missing his stop, waking places he's never been before.

• Jake and Tommy have video calls once a week and include the kids whenever they're home.

• Grace and Kiri have a very good relationship, but nobody knows who's Kiri's father is. 

• Quaritch often tries to undermine Jake at their workplace, sometimes even getting into fist fights.

• Rotxo and Spider are good friends and act like brothers. 

• Kiri, Rotxo and Spider rent a 1.5 bedroom flat not far from the university and it's absolutely full of plants because of Kiri.

• Tonowari takes the kids out for a fancy lunch once a month with his coworkers and their kids so they can build connections. 

• Rotxo has walked in on Neteyam and Ao'nung in the bathroom when he came to visit Lo'ak and Tsireya at their flat. And then he cheered them on, covering his eyes and walking out of the room, giggling. 

• Rotxo lets Kiri peg him.

• Neteyam taught Tuk how to swim and then Lo'ak almost drowned her by accident in their own pool with a pool noodle. 

• Neytiri and Jake go on dates nights every few weeks.

• Lo'ak has a tendency to miss the bus and then lies and says it was full and couldn't take him because Jake gets annoyed at him for it and this way it's not his fault. 

• Neteyam and Lo'ak simp over Cillian Murphy together.

• Ao'nung hangs out with Kiri between classes and they talk about nature and wildlife together over a coffee.

• Tsireya has movie nights with Ao'nung and Lo'ak and Neteyam aren't allowed to join in because it's for sibling only. 

• Ao'nung cooks more often than Neteyam and packs him food to take to classes when he has a long day. 

• Neteyam gets leg cramps from walking fast or carrying heavy bags because he had an intense growth spurt as a child an his joints are a little weak.

• Ao'nung likes to play around with Neteyam's flexibility in the bedroom. 

• Kiri collects bugs and actually knows how to keep them alive (Rotxo is a little freaked out by them and avoids that part of their room).

• Jake cuddles Tuk until she falls asleep every night that he's home for her bedtime. 

• Despite Jake having a horrible relationship with Quaritch, they both agreed to let the kids hang out together and sometimes have sleepovers. Neytiri hates Spider. 

• Rotxo buys Kiri flowers for every new month anniversary (strictly potted because Kiri hates cutting plants).

• Neteyam is allergic to watermelon but still eats it (and then gets intense stomach cramps).

• Lo'ak gave a blowjob for a joint once because he lost his wallet and wanted to try it anyways. 

• Naìtvì and Kaey are each others first everything. They switch. 

• Neytiri and Ronal gossip about their kids while Tuk has a play date with Ronal's toddler.

• Neteyam and Lo'ak call Jake Jacob behind his back when they're mad at him. 

• Tuk thinks Kiri is their actual sibling because she thinks Grace and Jake are siblings but she doesn't understand how cousins work. 

• Neteyam sometimes does ballet exercises when he's home alone because he misses dancing.

• Ao'nung comforts Lo'ak when Neteyam isn't home and Lo'ak likes cuddling up to him.

• Neteyam gets insecure about being so touchy with his family sometimes because he knows it isn't that common to cuddle parents or siblings at this age.

• Ao'nung has witnessed a shark attack that cost someone's arm and had to go to therapy for it for almost 2 years when he was 15. He never talks about it because the image makes him throw up.

• Lo'ak once got Kiri to pierce his ear at a summer camp but they didn't have an earring for it and the hole vanished. 

• Lo'ak is really nervous before every single one of his classes because he never does the readings and doesn't want to be called on.

• Tsireya has failed a core class and has to stay an extra year at university because the class is a fall semester only class.

• Rotxo makes Tsireya necklaces because they're childhood best friends and act like family. 

• Tonowari views Rotxo as his unofficial youngest son and pays for his tuition fees in exchange for Rotxo to partake in traditional ceremonies.

• Neteyam used to colour the ends of his hair with highlighter when he couldn't focus in class in high school. 

• Ao'nung is supposed to be a year above Neteyam but he failed a maths class in highschool before he got diagnosed with discalculia so they graduated together. 

• [tw: ed] Someone made a comment about Lo'ak's baby fat when he was around 11 and it sent him spiraling into an eating disorder that nobody noticed except Neteyam. It still comes back sometimes even as Lo'ak is 20.

• Neteyam does rock climbing whenever he gets the chance and Lo'ak usually goes with him.

• Neytiri suspects that Lo'ak is bi but doesn't say anything about it because she doesn't believe in labeling love in any way.

• Tuk hates having her hair done because she doesn't like waiting for Neytiri to finish.

♡

Chapter 49: Headcannons III.

Summary:

One last set of headcannons and yall can ask me write any of these for the next chapter

Notes:

Made our babes in the sims (except jake cause we know what he looks like human) <33

---

• Neteyam started painting his nails because he saw Kiri do it during a sleepover when he was 13 and wanted to try it so she gifted him a pale, shiny blue one that he keeps in his memories box (under his bed) even though it dried up. He only painted his toes for a while because he was scared until Lo'ak saw it and demanded Neteyam help him paint his toes too. Then, Mo'at saw them and that's how Neytiri and Jake found out. Neteyam was 15.

• Jake and Neytiri always let Neteyam have unsupervised sleepoevers with his female friends because they could tell he liked boys before he did. Lo'ak always complained about it until he figured out why.

• Jake and Neytiri raised Kiri until she was 5 because Grace was in a coma.

• Jake and Neytiri's bedroom looks like it belongs only to Neytiri because Jake doesn't really care for decorations and spends most of his time in the living room or in Tuk's play room. Aside from some books and his clothes, it's mostly Neytiri's plants that decorate the room. There's a really complex, green, nature themed wallpaper.

• The Sully's have a half-circle rainbow entryway rug because Tuk threw a fit at the store and Jake got it for her.

• Tuk likes to bite chunks out of the pool noodles and spit them at Lo'ak.

• The Sully's used to have a wall-mounted flat screen TV but Neteyam accidentally kicked it off the wall with a basketball (while his wrist was freshly broken) right in front of Jake. Jake didn't even manage to get mad at him because Neteyam immediately burst out crying and declared his wrist was broken before this incident because Eywa knew he'd do something bad and punished him for it beforehand.

• Lo'ak has beef with the vacuum cleaner. It makes a weird noise whenever he tries to use it so Neytiri makes him sweep his room.

• Neteyam came out to Tommy first.

• Neytiri's extended family doesn't actually dislike Lo'ak, he was just very quiet as a child and never attempted to chat with any of them. They are unaware that they tend to exclude Lo'ak. Tommy always makes sure to keep him company when he can.

• Lo'ak isn't Tsireya's first kiss; she asked to play spin the bottle when they were 15 in hopes of landing Lo'ak but she got Rotxo instead.

• Mo'at sends money to Neteyam and Lo'ak every month to their bank accounts.

• Tonowari and Ronal don't know that Tsireya failed a core class, she only told Ao'nung, who never told anyone else.

• Ao'nung goes to Ronal for advice about his love life and sexual health, but he's also comfortable about talking to Tonowari about it.

• Neteyam and Kiri text constantly and have so many inside jokes that nobody else understands.

• Neteyam, Lo'ak and Tuk all have massive rooms but Lo'ak is the only one with his own (tiny) bathroom.

• Ao'nung always pesters Lo'ak about things Neteyam likes and Lo'ak always goes to Ao'nung for advice when it comes to Tsireya.

• Tuk's bedroom is extremely blue and it gives Jake a headache.

• Lo'ak has partial hearing loss in his right ear from hitting his head when their old home was broken into.

• Neteyam and Ao'nung have never been intimate in Ao'nung's room because they usually hang out in Neteyam's.

• (TW: sa) Lo'ak was assaulted by a close male friend during a sleepover but he managed to fight him off before it got too far. Lo'ak didn't go to sleepovers for 2 years after that and had trouble accepting physical affection from anyone but Neytiri.

• Neteyam sings Tuk lullabies to help her fall asleep.

• Ao'nung asked Rotxo to kiss him when they were 17 to figure out if he actually likes men. Rotxo let him and then they joked about it for a while.

• Kiri has an undiagnosed sexual problem that makes experiencing intimacy painful for her and often results in actual physical injuries (which makes Rotxo feel really bad), which is why Rotxo let her peg him for the first time, and then he realised he really likes it so now it's become a thing for them.

• Lo'ak keeps his room very tidy since Tsireya comes over because she once found a moldy sandwich and it made her gag. The first time Jake saw Lo'ak tidy room he thought he accidentally took drugs.

---

You guyscan feel free to imagining everyone however you've been doing but this is the closest to how i've been imagining them haha

---

Lo'ak's room:

Neteyam's room:

Neytiri and Jake's room:

 

Notes:

Hope I didnt bore yall with this stuff I just dont really know what to write to move the story along haha

Chapter 50: The Youngest Son

Summary:

Mentions of Lo'ak's experience with self-defense murder in this chap

Notes:

Don't worry guys I'm working on the rest of the headcannon requests too <333

---

Jake Sully is a little more than freaked out when his two very adult sons come down the stairs in tears, each clutching a childhood plush toy. 

He's sitting at his desk, finishing up some administrative work at nine o'clock in the evening, two days after Neteyam announced his engagement. 

Not wasting time, he stands. "Boys? What's going on?"

Neteyam glances at Lo'ak, who swallows so loudly even Jake hears him from across the living room. Both sons of his have their hair down, Neteyam's soft, fluffy waves falling down his back, damp — Lo'ak's tight curls fluffing up like gentle, black clouds on a summer day. To Jake, they are the two single most beautiful men in the world: so different yet so similar. Both are a product of his love for his wife.

Neteyam is the first to break the silence, voice weak and trembling. “He’s having flashbacks of the break-in, dad.”

Jake understands immediately that his youngest son is stuck in memories of the time he had to shoot someone as an act of self-defence. Neteyam has no idea what to do. It’s been so long since Lo’ak had flashbacks, that he’s forgotten what calms his little brother, so he brings him to Jake, who crosses the room and scoops Lo’ak right up, uncaring that his aging back cracks from carrying a full-grown man.

Lo’ak hiccups and nuzzles his face into Jake’s neck, trembling all over. It reminds Jake of the time Lo’ak was a mere child, so full of sadness at the cruelty of the world, excluded by his peers for reasons unknown to all of them (except perhaps to Lo’ak, who’s locked the memories away so securely, his brain has already forgotten it all).

Neytiri peeks into the living-room from the kitchen with a worried frown. Jake shakes his head, letting her know he’s got this – he hopes he does.

Comforting Tuktirey is easy. She’s scared of the occasional dark shadow in her room or a strange bug. She doesn’t yet know the unforgiving nature of the world around her, twirling around in her little pink tutus and anticipating the moment she’ll finally get on pointe (Jake assumes that how you word that, he isn’t sure, not much of a ballet person). Jake just knows Tuk-Tuk wants toe-shoes and he’s willing to help her reach that goal.

Lo’ak is different – not really difficult, per se, but much different. Jake must be careful with him.

Neteyam disappears into the kitchen, plush under his arm.

 Jake settles down on the sofa with Lo’ak in his arms, shushing his soft sobs gently – he’s aware Lo’ak has mastered crying in absolute silence, having been caught too many times. It breaks his heart, well, it used to. Now, Jake just accepts that Lo’ak has been through many bad things – terrible things. Most things Jake doesn’t even know about.

And that’s okay, too.

Jake views the world differently since Neteyam’s break-down and Ronal’s harsh, awakening words.

“Hey, kiddo,” Jake whispers in Lo’ak’s ear gently. Lo’ak peeks at him, eyes red and lips trembling. “What’s got you in such a bad mood, huh, baby boy?”

Lo’ak purses his lips and swallows thickly, breath coming out in soft trembling puffs.

Jake sighs and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “You wanna tell dad what’s going on?”

A small smile sneaks onto Lo’ak’s face at his father’s words – the same way Jake would talk to a child. Lo’ak lost a lot of his childhood to terrible things (mainly the reason they had to move).

Lo’ak only shakes his head; he doesn’t want to dwell, he just needs a distraction from his thoughts.

Neteyam returns and sits down beside them. He leans against Jake’s side and peers at Lo’ak, lifting something small and green to his brother’s face. (Jake has to resist swooning.)
 It’s so easy to love them.

Lo’ak perks up, recognising the green apple slices. He takes one, sniffling but grinning none-the-less.

“Hey,” Jake speaks up carefully. “Remember that time you came home super mad a few years ago because of Ao’nung?”

Lo’ak’s eyes widen, and he flushes, coaxed out of his silence. “There were a lot of times like that.”

Neteyam hands him another slice of apple and cackles. “Dad means the one after the bathroom stall situation. Right, dad?”

Jake hums, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He’s heard of that one.

“Oh-” Lo’ak grunts. “Why you bringing that up right now?”

“It’s funny,” Neteyam chuckles, letting Lo’ak take the entire plate.

He’s still in Jake’s lap, somewhat squishing the man, but Jake can take a little bit of his leg going numb and his hip cramping if it means making Lo’ak comfortable.

“Yeah,” Jake agrees, patting Lo’ak’s head gently. “What was it that made you so mad again?”

Lo’ak tilts his head, mouth full. He shrugs and leans his cheek against Jake’s shoulder. Jake can feel him chew. When he speaks, Lo’ak’s words are muffled. “We made a bet on who’s bigger and I lost.”

Neteyam covers his mouth to hide his laugh, but a little sound still slips out. Lo’ak rolls his eyes and closes his eyes, exhausted.

“Whose idea was that?” Jake presses on, though he doesn’t really care. He just wants Lo’ak to think of anything but the blood on his hands that night.

Lo’ak puffs his cheeks up, pouting. “Mine, obviously. But then Ao’nung said I’m too much of a wuss to find out, so I had to do it, dad. It was literally my pride on the line.”

Jake chuckles, shaking his head. “You kids are funny. I don’t get you sometimes.”

Lo’ak snorts in offence. “Yeah, cause you’re old.”

“Yeah, because you give me grey hairs,” Jake retorts, letting his own childish side surface.

“Aunt Grace said I’m your copy so that’s your own fault,” Lo’ak mumbles, lifting his head and sticking his tongue out at his father.

Jake grabs the offending body part and Lo’ak shrieks, pulling back and freeing his tongue. “Daaad—”

Jake cackles at him and pokes at his sides.

Lo’ak grabs his wrists, holding Jake’s offensive fingers away from his body, pouting openly.

 

---

 

“Oh, no!” Tsireya sits up suddenly, nearly knocking off her bed as she jumps to her feet. “I forgot about my dentist’s appointment—”

Lo’ak blinks in surprise, sitting up. “When was it?”

Tsireya barely hears him, dashing around her room to get dressed. “It’s in ten minutes, if dad drives me, I can make it. Sorry, Lo’ak. Summer makes me forget what day it is.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine.” Lo’ak gets out of bed and tugs his T-shirt on, adjusting it into place. “We can hang out later.”

Tsireya frowns, wiggling into a flowy, white skirt. “But you just arrived! I feel so bad. Ao’nung is home, you should stay. I’m sure he won’t mind some company.”

Lo’ak shrugs. He likes Ao’nung now, even if they pretend to fight all the time. “Really. It’s okay. I can go home.”

Tsireya shakes her head hurriedly and marches up to him, looking determined. “Stay, please. I’ll be back for dinner.”

Lo’ak gives in, nodding. He flushes when Tsireya’s lips ghost over his as she lifts onto the tip of her toes. He leans down, hands resting on her hips, fiddling with the hems of her blouse, bumping noses as they kiss gently.

Tsireya giggles before pulling back. “I have to go.”

She bursts out of her room and dashes across the house, yelling for Tonowari’s attention. Lo’ak follows her, curiosity getting the better of him as he watches her interact with her father.

“Papa!” She gasps out, curls bouncing as she flies into his arms.

Tonowari stumbles back from the force, shooting Lo’ak a perplexed look, to which Lo’ak shrugs mutely. “What is it, my daughter?”

Tsireya pouts. “Can you drive me to the dentist? I’m super late.”

Tonowari chuckles softly, kissing the top of her head and nodding. “Alright. Let me get my shoes.”

Lo’ak watches them leave before he notices Ao’nung lazing around on the sofa, a tub of ice-cream all to himself, headphones on. He has his hair in a simple, unbraided bun. Lo’ak can see some type of product on it, making it shiny and wet looking.

Hesitating, Lo’ak stands around, hands in the pockets of his shorts. He shuffles his feet, unsure what to do. Ronal is not home, and neither is their toddler. They’ve gone to the beach for some one-on-one mother-daughter bonding.

Ao’nung notices him and squints, sitting up. He sets down a notebook grabs his phone, likely to switch off his music. Lo’ak bites his lip, looking down.

The surfer gets up, sauntering to the kitchen without a word.

Lo’ak sighs, brows furrowing. He’s not sure what to do in Tsireya’s home all by himself, so he glances at Ao’nung’s retreating back and wanders back to Tsireya’s room, sitting down on her bed, fiddling with his fingers.

Something about the silence hurts him – it reminds him of high-school back home.

Lost in his thoughts, Lo’ak doesn’t notice Ao’nung poking his head inside until the surfer fully steps into the room and sits down beside him. He’s switched his headphones to air pods and hands one to Lo’ak along with a delicate, pretty plate of ice cream and a small spoon.

Lo’ak blinks in surprise, mouth hanging open.

Ao’nung’s listening to Answers by The Franklin Electric.

He wraps an around Lo’ak’s shoulder and pulls him close, silent but comforting. Ao’nung finds it easy to recognise Lo’ak’s moods. They’re both fragile in the same way, for different reasons.

Ao’nung doesn’t know what Lo’ak’s been through; Lo’ak doesn’t know about the shark attack Ao’nung witnessed. It’s fine this way.

Lo’ak is insecure for being too loud, too much sometimes. Ao’nung is insecure because he likes men more than he likes women. These are all things they cannot change about themselves – it makes them human; it makes them real, and it brings them closer. It makes them brothers.

Lo’ak exhales deeply through his nose and leans his head on Ao’nung’s strong shoulder, closing his eyes. They are brothers; Lo’ak smiles, warm and fuzzy inside.

The song changes to This Is The Life by Micky. Lo’ak knows the original song, one of Neytiri’s favourite and only English songs. He thinks this cover is nice. It fits Ao’nung.

Ao’nung’s eyes drift over Tsireya’s room, noting the plants he’s not seen in a while and the little heart shaped lamp she has on the floor by her desk. The pimple patches on her desk next to a tube of face cream.

“It’s going to melt,” Ao’nung mumbles after a while, staring at the little bowl of ice-cream in Lo’ak’s hand.

Lo’ak hums, poking at the deliciousness with his spoon. “I don’t have any lactase tablets right now.”

Ao’nung reaches into his pocket and pulls out a brand new, unopened box of them. “I do. So, eat.”

Lo’ak’s eyes widen. He gapes at Ao’nung before covering his face.

Ao’nung panics, setting the box down next to them. “Hey— don’t cry. It’s fine, Lo’ak. It’s fine.”

Taking the bowl from him, Ao’nung sets it aside and pulls Lo’ak into a hug, rubbing his back. “Listen, baby Sully. I don’t know what’s bothering you, but I’m here if you need me. Got it?”

Lo’ak sniffles and nods against his neck. The song switches to a remix of People Help the People that Lo’ak doesn’t recognise.

“I got it,” he gasps out, clinging to Ao’nung. “I got it.”

Ao’nung hums, patting Lo’ak’s tight curls, trying to run his fingers through them only to get stuck. It makes Lo’ak laugh at least, because Ao’nung himself has curly hair and he should know how it is.

“So, you wanna talk about it?” Ao’nung asks, freeing his fingers. He pats down Lo’ak’s hair and settles on merely fiddling around with one strand, wrapping it out his finger.

Lo’ak’s scalp tingles from the little tugs. He wiggles his toes to compensate and swallows, giving a shy nod.

Then, Lo’ak opens up about his own problems to Ao’nung, sensing no judgement from the older male.

He tells the surfer about his lonely role within his extended family, about how he hasn’t dared to complain about a thing since Neteyam’s breakdown because he doesn’t think his problems are significant enough to be mentioned to anyone.

Ao’nung holds him close during it all.

---

Tsireya's room:

Ao'nung's room:

Tonowari and Ronal's room:

Notes:

Everyone doting on loak as they should
btw gimme feedback about the rooms im really excited about them
and i wanna do aonungs shared one with neteyam too aah

Chapter 51: The Past is Gone (nana nana)

Summary:

Tw for the end of the chapter;
Mentions of past sa

Notes:

Song recs for chapter;
Afterglow — FYDE
Arpento — Diskay

---

Neteyam remembers coming out to Tommy.

His uncle had been the first person he told, the second one being Kiri, then, after a while, Ao'nung. 

Lo'ak had asked about it on his own, then, slowly, Neteyam worked up the courage to tell his parents. Eventually, those he cared deeply about found out.

But, Neteyam still remembers exactly how it had felt to tell Tommy. 

They had been sitting together, Tommy visiting their new home right after the move. Neteyam had been fifteen, heart beating wildly against the cage of his ribs, threatening to send him into panic.

Tommy had noticed, pausing his animated explanation about something funny Jake had done as a child. "Hey, buddy. You alright?"

Neteyam had hung his head, fiddling with his fingers. "Can I tell you something?"

Tommy had turned serious easily, slipping into the role of protective uncle. His warm hand had slipped onto Neteyam's shoulder, squeezing gently. "Of course, bud. What's going on?"

Neteyam had bitten his lip, throat suddenly feeling dry. "How come you don't have a wife?"

Tommy had cocked his head to the side, curiously eyeing his eldest nephew. "I never fell in love, I guess. Why? Are you worried about not finding a pretty girl for yourself?"

Neteyam had cleared his throat, shaking his head. He had peaked through his lashes at Tommy, voice trembling and mouth dry. "Not really."

"What is it then, Mini-tiri?" Tommy had nudged his shoulder with his own, smiling gently.

Neteyam bit back a smile at the nickname, heart fluttering gently against his ribs. "Will you keep it a secret?"

Tommy only nodded, eyes soft as he tried to find hints in Neteyam's pale brown eyes.  "Pinky promise?"

Neteyam grinned, hooking his little finger around Tommy's held out one. Tommy returned the young boy's grin, patting his head after.

"I think," Neteyam murmurs tenderly, fiddling with his t-shirt's hem. "I don't think I want a wife."

Tommy hums, head tilted still. "You don't want to get married? That's okay, lil guy. You can—"

"It's not that," Neteyam had whispered, eyes wide and face burning. "I want to get married. I— I just don't want a wife."

Understanding shines in Tommy's eyes. He takes Neteyam's hand in his own and tangles their fingers, squeezing reassuringly. "You want a husband, then, bunny boy?"

Neteyam nods once, shoulders hunched. "I do, I think."

Tommy nods along with him and tugs him into a hug, rubbing Neteyam's back. "There's nothing wrong with that, kid. It's perfectly fine."

Neteyam breathes out deeply, relief washing over him. "Thanks."

 

---

 

"We should tell dad," Neteyam whispers, voice trembling and mouth running dry as he stares at his dear little brother. 

Lo'ak looks down, fiddling with Payakan's torn fin. "I can't."

"Why not?" Neteyam asks almost silently, hands cold, stomach feeling like it's full of stones. 

Lo'ak shifts, not daring to look his brother in the eyes. "What good would it do? It'll only burden him."

Neteyam purses his lips, jaw tense and aching from how hard he's clenching his teeth. He places a trembling hand on his little brother's knee. "He would want to know."

"He'll tell mom, and it'll break her heart—"

"Isn't your heart broken?"

Lo'ak swallows thickly. "Yes, but—"

Neteyam shushes him tenderly, cradling his brother's soft cheeks. Lo'ak doesn't meet his eyes, staring at Neteyam's collarbone instead. 

"It's okay to tell dad," Neteyam murmurs eventually, rubbing Lo'ak's cheeks with his thumbs, massaging his tense jaw. "Or mom. Or Tommy. This doesn't have to be a secret."

"I told you," Lo'ak sniffs weakly. "Isn't that enough?"

Neteyam shuts his eyes tightly, breathing out slowly, shakily. "I cannot carry this alone. It's too much."

"I shouldn't have told you." Lo'ak pulls away, pushing Neteyam's hands away. He isn't angry, nor hurt. Lo'ak is just numb and cold, unfeeling. "It's not like it happened all the way."

Neteyam's lips part in a silent gasp, eyes blinking open, filled with undisguised agony.

Lo'ak flinches. 

Neteyam's forehead wrinkles as he furrows his brows, and his face makes Lo'ak's chest hurt, breaking his heart down into a million little pieces, never to be mended again. 

"Teyam, I didn't mean to—"

Neteyam shakes his head; it shuts Lo'ak up.

Mind buzzing with a million thoughts,  Lo'ak feels dizzy. He knows what happened to Neteyam down to the very last little detail — and he's unintentionally invalidated his brother's experience with his old teacher in a weak attempt to protect himself. 

Neteyam moves to stand, but Lo'ak snatches his wrist. "I can't tell dad. But you can."

Neteyam's throat bobs. He hangs his head and tugs his hand away, opting to wrap his arms around himself, standing by the bed Lo'ak is perched upon. His head is pounding. 

Lo'ak sniffles helplessly, nose red and eyes burning. "Bro, please. Don't make me say it out loud again."

Neteyam nods slowly, eyes dull. "It makes it too real, right?"

Lo'ak's throat feels too tight to let in any air, but he gasps for it greedily anyways. "It— it was real. I get it. I think I might have come to accept it happened but it doesn't mean it hurts less."

Neteyam gently pries Lo'ak's fingers off of Payakan, setting the toy aside and kneeling by the bed, resting his head on Lo'ak's lap. His arms wrap around his younger brother's mid-section loosely.  

Lo'ak caressed his hair gently, shoulders feeling lighter, like a weight is gone. 

"I was scared," Lo'ak admits into the silence. "I wasn't sure I was strong enough to push him off and it made me freeze."

Neteyam listens patiently. 

Lo'ak fiddles with a loosened braid on Neteyam's head. His fingertips trace the patterns of each bead. "I thought about not fighting back at first, but then I remembered dad's words when I had to shoot that man."

"Strong heart," Neteyam murmurs tenderly, hugging his brother closer.

Lo'ak curls over him, wrecked by a sob he no longer can control. "He was my best friend. Sometimes I still feel his hands on me."

Neteyam hesitates, but he cannot help himself and the question bursts from him before he can stop himself. "Where did he touch you?"

Lo'ak winces, hand trailing to cup Neteyam's cheeks. "The same place your teacher touched you."

Neteyam lifts his head, breathing heavily through his nose. 

Lo'ak senses his brother's loss for words and smiles softly. "We can— we can tell dad."

Neteyam cannot mask his relief, slumping as the strength leaves his body. Just this once, he knows he cannot get through this alone. He cannot keep Lo'ak's secret for him just as he cannot keep his own secrets anymore.

They tell Jake the same day.

The past is gone; Neteyam smiles, eyes closed as he lets go, held tightly in his father's arms that night, sharing Jake's warmth with Lo'ak. 

Neteyam feels light and free. He will never look back, nor regret, cause the past is gone.

Lo'ak clings to their father, crying silently as Jake cradles his head, pressing kisses to his forehead, his other arm wrapped around Neteyam. 

"My boys," he whispers, broken. "My beautiful boys."

Neteyam hides his face in Jake's chest, head bumping against Lo'ak's lightly. Lo'ak only clings tighter, inhaling Jake's familiar, safe smell.

Then, wrapped in his father's arms, Lo'ak feels like he can overcome this.

Notes:

Minor rant
Tw for sa feel free to ignore
.
.
.
I just realised that just because it didn't hurt doesn't mean it wasn't sa; because I said no and tried to push him away by his hips

And just because I agreed to it after constant pestering just to get it over with
Doesn't make it not sa

And having him finish inside after I told him not to is /also/ sa
Especially if it happens multiple times

Its a funny feeling being grateful that it never happened to me only to realise it already did
It's even funnier that my brain separates the person from the act

Anyway
Sorry bout that
I'd prefer comments about the chapter rather than this
I just needed some place to vent where it can't easily be found

Chapter 52: Lychee and Mango

Summary:

People on avatartwt are "exposing" smut writers
today and theyre literally going through bookmarks to find who reads them
💀
Like
Cmon guys
Where was this energy about naruto NSFW fanarts or Harry Potter smut where people didn't even bother to age them up

Notes:

Incorporated some more headcannon requests in this chapter haha
Here's some lightheartedness to make up for yesterday's gloomy chapter ✨️
enjoy

---

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan: yo bro I need ur help w/ smth

Ao'nung: What do you want?

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan: first of all gimme a cool nickname and second whats Tsireya's favourite fruit?

Ao'nung: ???

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan: what? You cant read suddenly, fish lips?

Ao'nung: Go ask her yourself.

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan: cmon bro help me out. I helped u too w Neteyam 

Ao'nung: Lichi and mango. 

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan: thx xoxo 

Ao'nung: Gross.

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan: wait what's a lichi??

"Why are you giggling?" Neteyam asks curiously, setting his book aside and peeking at Ao'nung. 

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan: bro that's lychee tf lmao 

Ao'nung pouts, pushing Neteyam away from his phone. "Don't snoop."

"I'm not. I'm openly looking." Neteyam sits up fully from his spot on Ao'nung's bed and pushes the covers aside. "What does Lo'ak want?"

Ao'nung rolls his eyes with a sigh. "He's bothering me about Tsireya."

Neteyam grins, raising a dark brow. "Like you bother Lo'ak about me?"

Ao'nung flushes, scratching at the back of his neck, not quite looking Neteyam in the eyes. He only shrugs, frowning. 

Neteyam openly coos, leaning closer and cupping Ao'nung's cheeks tenderly, making him pucker his lips up. The surfer whines, trying to pull away, but Neteyam stops him with a hand on the back of his head. 

Neteyam leans closer, lips barely ghosting over Ao'nung's. "Are you shy, darling?"

Ao'nung nearly chokes on his own breath. "No—"

"Then why is your pretty little face so red?" Neteyam nuzzles their noses together, flicking his tongue against Ao'nung's lower lip. 

This time, Ao'nung does actually choke. Neteyam lets him escape, smirking as he rubs Ao'nung's back while the surfer coughs loudly, borderline wheezing. 

Ao'nung covers his face with his hands, grumbling under his breath. 

Neteyam smiles softly at him and places his hand on Ao'nung's cheek, thumb caressing the warm skin as Ao'nung peeks at him from behind his fingers, pale blue eyes wide and twinkling. 

Neteyam takes Ao'nung's hands and nudges them away from the taller male's face, fond smile never leaving his face. He leans in slowly, eyes locked on Ao'nung's, open and fill of love.

Ao'nung swallows, breathing softly out through his nose before closing his eyes, resting his forehead against Neteyam's. 

Neteyam's eyes flutter shut. "You're very dear to me, Ao'nung. Dearer than anyone else, even my family."

Ao'nung makes a small noise of surprise, but keeps his eyes closed. "That can't be true, Tey."

Neteyam hums deeply, arms wrapping around Ao'nung's shoulders. He steals a tiny kiss. "You'll be the one I'll spend my life with, Nungie."

Ao'nung's heart flutters wildly in his chest at the nickname he hadn't realised he missed so much. Ao'nung presses his lips against Neteyam's, tugging him closer, into his lap. Neteyam gasps softly, cheeks flushing as Ao'nung rubs his sides with tender hands, reaching up under Neteyam's t-shirt. 

Neteyam's skin is soft under Ao'nung's fingertips, raising with goosebumps from his light caress. 

Slowly, Ao'nung lowers Neteyam onto the bed, resting between his legs, kissing him slowly, tongue poking out to explore Neteyam's mouth. Neteyam parts his lips.

Ao'nung runs his tongue over Neteyam's teeth, ghosting it over the roof of his mouth, tickling his gums before their tongues find each other. 

Neteyam moans into the kiss, back arching. He tugs at Ao'nung's clothes, needy and feeling like he'll overflow with love for the metcayinan male. 

Ao'nung lets Neteyam undress him; he tugs off Neteyam's clothes, trailing kisses down his chest. He palms at Neteyam's member, stroking slowly as he sucks a bruise onto Neteyam's chest. 

Neteyam lets his hands wander.

His nails rake up Ao'nung's back before gripping his shoulders, massaging the firm muscles gently before trailing down to grip at Ao'nung's hips, tugging him closer. 

Neteyam loses himself in the pleasure as Ao'nung's fingers prepare him languidly, taking their time. 

Soft gasps fill the room as Ao'nung makes love to him, slowly, tenderly. Until they fall asleep tangled together under Ao'nung's covers.

 

---

Despite the summer break, Neteyam and Ao'nung decide to go back to the flat to live their own life along with Tsireya and Lo'ak. 

Neytiri and Ronal think it's a great idea, so Ao'nung and Neteyam can learn each other's rhythm better before they get married. (Clearly, they don't gossip about their kids. Not at all.)

All is calm.

except for Lo'ak — the youngest Sully is feeling extra menacing today, following Ao'nung around and pestering him about everything he does.

Neteyam watches them, amused. Lo'ak used to do this to him when they were little. Little five, six, seven year old Lo'ak would trail after Neteyam all day, copying him or asking questions Neteyam didn't actually know the answer to, like why blue whales eat plankton if they're so small (they taste the best, obviously).

While his little brother bothers Ao'nung, destroying the man's inner peace, Neteyam waits for his soul sister, Kiri to arrive.

They're supposed to watch the newest Guardians of the Galaxy (pirated with the help of Rotxo, who went home to visit his grandmother).

Neteyam startles out of his thoughts by a loud scrapping sound and a curse — before something, or likely someone, crashes to the ground in the kitchen.

"Lo'ak, I swear to the Great Mother that I will skin you—"

"Bro, calm down!" Lo'ak whines.

Neteyam peeks into the kitchen to find them sprawled out on the ground, a couple of broken eggs scattered around them. He covers his mouth to stiffle a laugh. "Come on, don't fight. What happened, baby bro?"

Lo'ak sits up, sticking his tongue out at Ao'nung, who scowls and pulls a face at him in return. "Ao'nung has no awareness of his physical body."

"What?!" Ao'nung snaps, agitated beyond belief and covered in egg yolk. "You're the one who's been up my ass all day!"

Neteyam glances between the two of them, highly amused. 

Lo'ak rolls his eyes and gestures to the eggs. "He tripped."

"On what?" Neteyam cackles, shaking his head. He leans against the doorway. 

Lo'ak shrugs, looking a little sheepish. 

Neteyam crosses his arms, pretending to be disappointed. "Did you get behind his back when he wasn't looking, Lo'ak?"

Ao'nung gets to his feet, staring Lo'ak down like he's never seen something more offensive than the youngest Sully boy. 

Lo'ak flushes, but doesn't look even a little apologetic. "Maybe."

Neteyam snorts, looking over Ao'nung's egg-covered pants and bursts out giggling, voice deep and smooth — then, the doorbell rings. Neteyam perks up, twirling out of the room, leaving Lo'ak and Ao'nung to growl at each other.

Kiri arrives, grinning widely, wearing a top she crocheted herself and a long, flowing skirt. "Neteyam, my favourite dictator!"

Neteyam wraps her in a tight hug, picking Kiri up and twirling her around. "Hey, my little sausage girl."

"What the actual fuck–" Lo'ak deadpans, just about to pass through the living room to shower (he won rock paper scissors against Ao'nung). 

Kiri waves him off, smirking. "You wouldn't understand, you little gremlin."

Neteyam nods, pretending to be extremely serious. "You're not part of the Pabo Racha."

Ao'nung steps into the room, eyebrows raised, having heard it all. He shares a look with Lo'ak, who only shrugs, staring at Neteyam like he's suddenly turned blue and grew two metres taller.

"The what?" Lo'ak whines out, brows furrowing, wrinkling his forehead. "Bro, you're literally not making any sense."

Kiri chuckles, sharing a look with Neteyam. "He is, you're just not part of PR, so you don't get it."

Lo'ak purses his lips. "Come on— tell me what that is!"

Neteyam hums, scratching his chin in thought. "Let me think— no."

Kiri grabs him by the arm and they disappear into Ao'nung and Neteyam's shared room without another word more, leaving behind a very confused Lo'ak and even more confused Ao'nung. 

"Hey, did you get my message, Teytey?" Kiri grins, flopping down on the fluffy black rug in the center of the room. 

Neteyam sits down in front of her with his laptop. "The one about the fanfiction?"

Kiri nods, getting her phone out and lying down. "That one was so weird, I swear I had to ask Rotxo to imitate the poses because they didn't seem possible."

Neteyam raises a brow, typing in his password. "And were they possible?"

Kiri shakes her head, groaning. "Literally no! The guy was apparently biting her thigh at the same time as he was fucking her. That's not possible unless he has no spine."

Neteyam cackles quietly and loads up the pirated movie. "Doesn't sound like it would be too bad. Do you want snacks?"

Kiri squints, tucking a short strand of hair behind her ear. "I brought some, little captain. They're right here in my bag."

"Uh-huh. Well, movies ready to play. Want some pillows?" Neteyam sets the laptop down between them and reaches over to the bed, tugging his pillow down and holding it out to Kiri. 

"Obviously." Kiri grabs it happily, promptly sitting on it. She leans against the bed behind her. "Eywa, I'm so excited, I love these movies."

Neteyam grins, fetching Ao'nung's pillow for himself before settling down next to Kiri. "I have mastered the art of standing so incredibly still—"

"That I become invisible!" Kiri finishes in a fit of giggles as she pulls out all sorts of sweet from her bag. 

"Why is Gamora?" Neteyam asks, trying his best to imitate the characters voice. 

Kiri shrieks out a laugh, throwing her head back. "Teytey, that was almost perfect!"

Neteyam chuckles, shaking his head. "Okay, okay, be serious."

"I'm so Sirius—" Kiri retorts, eyes wide and twinkling with playfulness. 

Neteyam clicks his tongue, opening a bag of onion flavoured crisps. "Come on, Madonna. Movies already started, you're gonna miss it."

Kiri smirks, flicking her hair dramatically. "You're gonna miss me."

"You?" Neteyam cocks his head to the side, making a show of looking Kiri up and down.

Kiri gasps in offence, slapping his arm. "Rude!"

Eventually, they settle down and watch the movie, shooing away Ao'nung when he tries to enter the room to get clean clothes. Half-way through the movie they end up lying cuddled together, Kiri massaging Neteyam's scalp absent mindedly, completely engrossed in the film, crying, laughing, squealing. 

Neteyam nuzzles against her, enjoying his little massage.

Kiri ends up staying the night and Ao'nung gets evicted to the living room, pouting as he collects his blankets and pillows.

Neteyam gives him a sweet kiss and shuts the bedroom door, giggling with Kiri.

 

---

 

Ao'nung and Neteyam's shared room at the flat:

 

Lo'ak and Tsireya's room:

Notes:

Which of my ocs do u guys wanna see more of? (Aside from kaey and Naìtvì who'll appear soon)
•Tsireya's friends: Payìva or Rey'ka or Eyrina(apple) (or all 3)
•Or a bi female new oc who has a bf and feels invalidated in her bisexuality bc of this to help Ao'nung's character development
•Or a new friend(s) for Neteyam that he meets at uni next term

Chapter 53: Lazy Summer Nights

Summary:

Guys I just checked my stats i
I wrote 400k words this year
Compared to 8k last year
And I was wondering why I can't remember most of the year💀

---

"What's a song you never skip if it comes up on a playlist?" Kiri asks suddenly, lazing around in the sand, fiddling with a couple small white shells she's collected. 

Rotxo perks up, wild curls shiny with little droplets of water. His legs are covered in sand from sitting down dripping wet after swimming. 

"Seesaw," Neteyam murmurs first, chewing on the straw of his drink. He's sitting on a blanket with Ao'nung and Lo'ak, waiting for Ao'nung to finish mixing the Uno cards. 

Kiri hums, lifting her head. "Whose song is that?"

"Suga," Neteyam replies easily, flashing her a happy smile. 

Kiri nods, pushing her bangs from her forehead. "Oh, of course. Your nampyeon." 

Lo'ak pulls a face at her words, sharing a look with Ao'nung, who only shrugs, used to not understanding Neteyam and Kiri's conversations.

"I never skip songs," Tsireya announces suddenly, removing her towel from her face. Her hair is collected into a bun at her nape, fluffy and falling apart as she bathes in the sun on her towel, sunscreen bottle by her side. 

Lo'ak watches her with heart eyes, forehead a little reddened by the sun. Neteyam wordlessly hands him the sunscreen, ignoring Lo'ak's confusion.

Ao'nung starts distributing the cards. Rotxo shuffles over, getting sand all over their blanket, but none of them mind. "I wanna join, Ao."

"Hey," Kiri protests. "You guys didn't answer me."

Ao'nung glances her way, eyeing the patterns of her bikini. He shrugs eventually. "Allergic by clide."

Kiri nods, having no idea what song that is. She sits up, shaking the sand from her back. "What about you, Rotxo?"

Rotxo peeks at Lo'ak's cards while the youngest Sully boy is distracted by the sunscreen he's smearing all over his face, painting himself white. 

"I love The Way I Are. No matter what remix, it's not getting skipped," Rotxo grins, beaming when Kiri recognises the song.

Tsireya turns onto her stomach to tan her back. Lo'ak bites his lip, averting his gaze. He tugs a towel onto his lap, pretending to wipe his hands of leftover sunscreen.

Neteyam scowls, snatching the towel. "Lo'ak! Put the sunscreen on yourself, you clown, not the towel."

Lo'ak protests loudly, yanking his towel back from Neteyam and placing it back on his lap. Ao'nung glares at him, to which Lo'ak offers a sheepish grin.

"Anyway, I don't ever skip Teeth. It's the best song ever," Lo'ak announces, flicking sand at Neteyam. 

"What about you, Kiri?" Tsireya smiles, peeking at her from under the towel on her head. "What's your favourite, non-skippable song?"

Kiri shrugs. "I probably have skipped all my songs at least once. I just can't focus on them long enough."

Neteyam sets his drink aside in the little dent in the sand he's made for it. "I actually have never skipped Seesaw, I listen to it even if it's not the kind of music I want to listen to in the moment."

"Well, if I have to choose, it's probably The Storm by TheFatMonkey and someone else. I don't remember." Kiri grabs a sandwich from their piknik basket, unwrapping it. 

"Wanna go for a swim, Neteyam?" She asks after a while, once her food is finished. She tugs on a large white shirt to hide her skin from the burning sun. 

Tsireya perks up, forsaking sunbathing. "Hey, we can rent surf boards here! Ao'nung and I could teach you guys."

Neteyam glances between the two. "No, that's okay. Thank you though."

"You can teach me the way of the water!" Lo'ak yelps, ignoring their game of Uno and scrambling to his feet.

Tsireya giggles, nodding happily. "Do you want to go now?"

Kiri gets to her feet as well. "I wanna learn, too."

She ignores Lo'ak's visible disappointment at not having Tsireya's undivided attention and follows after the two girls.

Neteyam watches them disappear.

Ao'nung turns to him before promptly stealing his drink, testing it before he scrunches his nose in disgust. "Why is this so sweet?"

"Because it's bubble tea but I ran out of the bubbles," Neteyam murmurs tenderly, taking his drink back and sipping on it. 

Rotxo watches them before humming and getting to his feet, barely avoiding stepping on Ao'nung's thigh. "I'm gonna catch some waves, too. You guys staying?"

Ao'nung nods. "Yeah. We're fine."

Neteyam pouts, chewing on a piece of ice from his drink. "I wanted to swim."

"We can see our stuff from the water," Ao'nung chides playfully, nudging Neteyam's shoulder. 

He doesn't comment on the fact that Neteyam is wearing a T-shirt — the surfer accepts it a part of who Neteyam is and helps him to his feet, walking to the water hand in hand, chattering amongst themselves quietly. 

Ao'nung can see Lo'ak struggling to find his balance on the board despite Tsireya's best efforts to guide him and smirks, shaking his head. 

Neteyam squeezes his hand and leads him deeper, stirring up sand as they walk through the water.

The beach is crowded somewhat, but it could be worse. There's still parts where the two of them can be alone, hidden by prying eyes.

Suddenly, a beach ball lands on Ao'nung's head, rustling his bun. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry—" a girl scurries after it, followed by a cackling male, who doesn't look the least bit sorry.

Ao'nung, surprised, holds onto the ball, eyeing the newcomers. "It's fine. It doesn't hurt."

The girl nods, holding her hands out, asking for Ao'nung to throw the ball to her. "Do you guys want to play with us?"

Neteyam grins, nudging Ao'nung and taking the ball from him. "Yeah. What's your name?"

She returns her grin, hoping about as Neteyam throws the ball to her, catching it clumsily. "I'm Da-Som. This is my boyfriend, Mark."

"Oh, nice to meet you. This is Ao'nung, my fiancé," Neteyam replies, pointing to Ao'nung, who's eyeing the strangers curiously. 

Da-Som throws the ball to Ao'nung, who barely catches it in his haze to memorise the new faces. 

"Sounds foreign," Mark hums, sauntering closer comfortably with an easy smile on his face. "Where are you guys from?"

Neteyam catches the ball from Ao'nung. 

"Awa’atlu," Ao'nung replies, gesturing to Neteyam. "You forgot to introduce yourself, Tey."

"Oh." Neteyam flushes, making Da-Som giggle. "I'm Neteyam. My family is originally from the Hallelujah Mountains."

"I'm from Busan," Da-Som beams before she gets thrown the ball, stumbling into the water and failing to catch it. Mark goes to fetch it for her. "Mark is from Austria."

"You guys students?" Ao'nung asks as they wait for Mark to fetch the escaping beach ball. 

Da-Som nods, splashing about. "Oh, yeah. I'm doing a masters in Chinese right now."

"Neteyam's studying Korean," Ao'nung offers, assuming the topic would interest the pale girl, whose nose is reddened by the sun. "He's been trying to find some new friends to practice with."

"Nung—" Neteyam gasps.

Da-Som chuckles, shaking her head. "We can be friends. I didn't do my bachelors at this uni so I don't know anyone."

Mark returns, grinning. "What'd I miss?"

"Uni talk," Da-Som hums, pushing her hair from her face. 

Mark nods, tossing the ball to Ao'nung. "I'm not doing school. Just graduated. Military Science."

Neteyam glances around the beach. "My brother's interested in that, too. Dad was a marine until he met mom. Now they're both in the navy."

"Oh, that's cool," Mark murmurs, relaxed and a bit lobster-red on his back where he forgot his sunscreen. 

"I'm surrounded by army boys," Da-Som cackles to herself, deep brown eyes wandering over Mark before she turns to Neteyam. "Anyways. You guys busy this weekend? A friend is hosting a party at the beach. Wanna come?"

Ao'nung adores beach parties. He immediately perks up, a satisfied noise leaving him to which Neteyam raises both brows in surprise, watching the surfer. 

"Of course," Ao'nung beams; he hogs the ball, trying to balance on it but failing and splashing into the water unceremoniously. 

Neteyam chuckles, nudging him with his foot while he's under. "Is it this beach?"

Da-Som nods happily, leaning against Mark as the blond male wraps an arm around his waist. "Yeah. It will start Saturday at 9. You guys could bring some friends, if you want."

Neteyam's nose scrunches as he smiles at her, bunny teeth poking out faintly. "Okay. We'll most likely come."

Da-Som and Mark hang out with them for another hour or so before heading back to their own group of friends, settling by a bonfire as night falls.

Neteyam and Ao'nung light their own with the help of Rotxo across the beach, wrapped in blankets and roasting marshmallows. 

"Let's play a game!" Tsireya grins, giggling when Lo'ak pokes at her dimples with a soft coo of adoration.

Kiri perks up, cuddled up against Rotxo's side. "Which one?"

"Two truths and a lie!" Ao'nung cuts in, suddenly very interested in the people around him.

Tsireya stares at him in stunned surprise before grinning in delight. "That's great! Let's play that. You guys in?"

Kiri nods, chewing on her latest marshmallow carefully. "Okay. But let me think because I suck at lying."

"I got one!" Lo'ak yelps happily, wiggling about in excitement. "You guys are never gonna guess!"

Neteyam cackles as he notices Tsireya stare at his brother with heart eyes. "Come on then baby bro."

Lo'ak snorts, apparently very pleased with himself. "Okay. First. One time mom and dad were arguing so I threw myself down the stairs to stop it. Second, I have gone to school drunk. And last, I have given head for weed."

Neteyam cringes at his brother, entire face scrunching up. "Lo'ak, what the hell."

Tsireya doesn't seem surprised. She bites back a silly grin. "I'll wait for you all to answer first. I already know."

"No, you definitely don't." Lo'ak boops her on the nose, making Ao'nung gag dramatically.

Kiri hums, leaning back on her arms. "I don't think you threw yourself down the stairs."

"You think he gave head?" Rotxo sniggers, eyeing Lo'ak, who averts his gaze, turning a little red at all the attention. "I think the third is the lie."

"What was the second?" Ao'nung frowns, rubbing his forehead.

"That I went to school drunk."

"No, I remember that day, you actually did come—" Ao'nung flinches away as Lo'ak swats at him, pouting.

"Don't give it away, man!"

"Wait, you gave head?!" Neteyam yelps, wide-eyed as he gapes at Lo'ak. 

Lo'ak shrugs. "Well, now that—"

"Why can I picture him throwing himself down the stairs? That would have made more sense!" Kiri wheezes out between laughs, slapping her thigh. "Man, I can't believe you go to school drunk and suck dudes off for weed!"

"Jeez!" Lo'ak whines. "It was one time. I forgot my money–"

Ao'nung crosses his arms. "What? So you drink and do drugs?"

Lo'ak pauses, mouth hanging open in surprise. "What? I don't do drugs! It was  traditional omaticayan herbal joints."

Ao'nung squints before relaxing. "It better have been."

Lo'ak rolls his eyes, nuzzling against Tsireya, who had decided to wrap an arm around him, rubbing his side gently. "I knew that one. You sometimes talk in your sleep."

Amidst the laughter, Neteyam pecks Ao'nung's cheek and whispers in his ear. "I really want to hear yours."

"Okay. Yo, listen up. I'm next," Ao'nung calls out, earning a couple eyerolls. "First, I can change a car tire. I got into all my top uni choices. I have a scuba diving licence."

Neteyam tilts his head at all the new information, surprise obviously written all over his face.

"Those all sound like they could be true," Kiri frowns. 

"Come on, he literally failed maths!" Lo'ak protests loudly, sticking a new marshmallow in the fire. "Second is definitely the lie."

"I don't think he can change a car tire," Rotxo muses, drawing shapes in the sand. "Ao'nung hates cars."

"What do you think, bro?" Lo'ak asks, turning to Neteyam. "Which one's the lie? Give us a hint."

"I don't know, actually," Neteyam mutters, scratching his neck. He gasps in offence when Lo'ak calls him useless.

Ao'nung watches everyone, smirking faintly in satisfaction. He shares a look with Tsireya, who chews on her lip as she thinks.

Suddenly, Kiri's eyes light up and she points to Ao'nung. "You didn't get in to all your top choices because you only applied to one university!"

"That's brave, damn," Lo'ak chuckles, flicking sand Ao'nung's way weakly. 

"You can scuba dive?" Neteyam asks curiously, face soft. Ao'nung nods proudly, reaching up to caress Neteyam's cheek. 

"What if we play who's most likely to, now?" Rotxo asks after a few more rounds in which they find out that a few interesting things about one another. His question ears a series of excited reactions, which makes Rotxo smile happily, toes wiggling a little in excitement. 

Kiri giggles behind her hand. "I already got one! Who's most likely to try a threesome?"

"Damn, sis, we're starting off wild!" Lo'ak wheezes, shrieking with laughter. 

Kiri smirks coyly. "Well, I want to know your dirty secrets."

"Let's make it so everyone has to explain why they pick the person!" Tsireya giggles, grasping Lo'ak's arm to ground herself. 

"I pick Ao'nung," Rotxo sniggers, ducking out of the way of Ao'nung's unforgiving hand. 

"Really?" The surfer frowns, brows furrowing. "Why me, man?"

Rotxo shrugs. "You just seem like the type."

"Yeah, I pick Ao'nung, too," Kiri agrees, nudging Rotxo. "You did use to have crushes on multiple people at the same time."

"Hey! I told you that in confidence!" 

"It's okay, Nung. Me too." 

"Bro?!" Lo'ak gasps, mouth hanging open. 

Neteyam only glances Lo'ak's way before patting Ao'nung's back. "Moving on—"

"I got one!" Tsireya beams, pushing her hair back from his face. "Who's most likely to have an open relationship?"

Ao'nung whistles, impressed. "Rotxo."

"Yeah, Rotxo," Lo'ak agrees without a second thought.

The surfer flushes as Neteyam and Tsireya both agree. 

"I pick Neteyam, " Kiri shrugs.

"Why me?" Neteyam asks curiously, flushing slightly at the idea. "I haven't even kissed anyone other than Ao'nung, not counting the games."

"I think you'd like it." Kiri grabs a soda from their basket, sipping on it comfortably. 

"Fair enough, " Neteyam chuckles. "So, who's most likely to be soulmates?"

"You didn't hear it from me, but Lo'ak and Tsireya," Ao'nung murmurs quietly, averting his gaze.

Lo'ak stares at him in stunned silence for a moment before biting the inside of his cheek and looking away. "I pick my bro and Ao'nung."

"I can't chose," Kiri whines, jutting out her lower lip. "All of you guys are soulmates."

"We're all each other's soul mates!" Tsireya giggles sweetly, hugging Lo'ak close to herself.

Ao'nung fakes gagging. "That was gross. Don't ever say that again. Lo'ak's definitely not my soulmate."

Lo'ak snorts, apparently very amused by Ao'nung's fakes disgust. Ao'nung would never ever admit how much he treasures the younger Sully. Seriously, he'd rather die.

But either way, he feels very protective of Lo'ak, despite their differences. Lo'ak feels like a little brother to him. 

"Who's most likely to go skinny dipping?" Rotxo asks suddenly.

"I'd it's all of us and let's just do it," Lo'ak shrugs.

Ao'nung shares a look with Tsireya before getting up. "After you."

"I don't want to see you naked!" Tsireya protests, mortified. "Ao'nung! Oh, Great Mother, my eyes— Kiri?! What?"

"Are we really doing this?" Neteyam tilts his head, watching his friends, except for Tsireya, all shed their clothes. He fiddles with the hem of his T-shirt nervously, heart beating wildly against his chest at the thought of letting everyone see his back.

Lo'ak pelts him with some small shells and sticks him tongue out, fully naked already. "Come on, bro. Don't be a wuss!"

Neteyam takes in the patches of white skin along Lo'ak's thigh, noticing new markings he hasn't seen before. Only Tsireya and himself are still dressed.

"I don't know—"

Ao'nung holds his hand out to help him stand, smiling tenderly (and it would be quite beautiful, if he wasn't as naked as the day he was born). Neteyam flushes, barely meeting anyone's eye. Tsireya is no better, now aided by Kiri, who tells her she doesn't have to, only to be reassured that Tsireya wants to join, she's just nervous. 

Neteyam swallows thickly, knuckles paling from the tightness of his fists, crumbling his T-shirt. Ao'nung shields him from view, though by now the beach had become empty, only their little group remains.

He takes a deep breath and nods. Ao'nung smiles down at him in delight, wrapping his body in a quick, warm embrace. 

"I'm proud of you," the surfer whispers in Neteyam's ear.

Neteyam's stomach flutters with a wild group of floricing butterflies.

Notes:

• Rotxo Spotify playlist:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0cmbdD5GngH8XKt4utBEhw?si=zLRZ2jC6RSKZvueqxKM0tw
• Tsireya Spotify playlist:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6wI4Ph0IjrgolXn8cinjn0?si=PxGApF5KTfqXq7YyETeODw
• Kiri Spotify playlist:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6wI4Ph0IjrgolXn8cinjn0?si=PxGApF5KTfqXq7YyETeODw

Chapter 54: To Be Alive

Summary:

My life rn is literally a fuckfest lmaoo
Ya girl got cheated on (idk to what extend but who cares, time to throw the man away)
girlie sent bra pics to my man and god knows what on snapchat and he sent her stuff back lol
she sent a pic of her hickey to him telling him "you left a mark" and bro fr tried to tell me it wasnt him but this other dude pinched her lmaooo
and the bra pics were just "a joke" and the last was a month and a half ago anyway
um sir we've been dating since 2020
Found out he's selling weed too even though its illegal here

Anyway we broke up after almost 3 yrs 🙃

Notes:

Next chapter was not indeed posted in a day or two lmao my bad

---

Mark and Da-som's invitation to the party doesn't go unanswered.

Neteyam brings Ao'nung, and that somehow results in Lo'ak gluing himself to them, which means Tsireya's coming too. Since Tsireya is coming, Kiri is too, and because of Kiri, so are Rotxo and Spider.

 Everything is going smoothly, until Neteyam is dared to drink straight vodka and Lo’ak loses about five rounds of beer-pong against Mark and Spider.

Ao’nung is simply love-struck.

There are many people present at the party, bodies mingling on a cardboard dance floor; Tsireya and Lo'ak are there, dancing like they were simply destined to move in perfect sync. 

If Ao'nung knows one thing, it's that Neteyam and vodka don't mix well (beside the fact that Neteyam gets a tummy ache from the stuff).

The alcohol and Da-som’s friendly banter invites the archer to the dancefloor; Ao’nung lets him mingle about with their new friends while he mucks around with Rotxo and Kiri, who are trying their best to include him in their conversation, but it is obvious they'd rather be making out. Spider shares a look with Ao'nung, one that Ao'nung doesn't really want to return, having never quite gotten on well with the unofficial fifth Sully sibling. 

Neteyam is mesmerising; his engagement ring twinkles in the fancy, colourful lights raining down on him; he's wearing a cropped top, but somehow, he doesn't look trashy (though that might be Ao'nung's own repressed mindset about men in feminine clothing). Ao'nung's eyes catch on the dangly piercing adorning Neteyam's body. 

He's covered his vitiligo with foundation, much to Ao'nung's discontent. 

Da-Som spins him around, dancing with the love of Ao'nung's life as though they've always known each other and Ao'nung instantly feels drawn to her. Mark, not so much. They don't really have anything in common.

Kiri nudges Ao'nung, smirking. "Why don't you dance with him, lover boy?"

Ao'nung's face flushes. "He's having fun with them."

Kiri shares a look with Rotxo before they both roll their eyes. "He'd have much more fun with you there."

"Yeah, mate, go be with him." Rotxo pushes on his shoulder lightly to get him going and even Spider agrees with the two of them.

Outnumbered, Ao'nung has no choice but to join Neteyam and their new friends. He holds his hands up in surrender. "Alright. I can tell when I'm not wanted."

Rotxo pouts, wrapping an arm around Kiri's shoulder. "That's not true. We love you, Nungnung."

"Man, fuck you," Ao'nung snorts, barely concealing his laughter before he makes his way to the dance floor, blinded by the flashing lights. 

He feels light, mind buzzing with his own drinks. The surfer sneaks up behind Neteyam, placing his hands on the slim waist, pressing up against his back. 

Neteyam grins up at him, resting his head on Ao'nung's shoulder. Da-Som cheers them on, clinging to Mark, a very clumsy drunk.

"Beautiful boys!" She cheers. "Right, Mark?"

The pale-skinned male chuckles, kissing her cheek. "Of course, Somy."

"Tell them they're beautiful, Marky," she giggles, voice slurring slightly. Her entire face is flushed from her drunkenness but she doesn't seem to care. 

Mark entertains her, cackling. He pretends to lift his hat and bows his head a little. "Gentlemen, you are beautiful."

Neteyam snorts, holding up his hand with a playful twinkle in his pale brown eyes. "I'm afraid I can't accept your compliment, gentleman. I'm very much engaged."

Ao'nung sways along with Neteyam, hugging him from behind. "That's right, sir."

Mark snorts and flinches when Da-Som squeals in his ear in delight, despite already knowing about the engagement. "Wow! How scandalous."

Neteyam shares a look with Mark, who places a hand over his heart and pouts, faking a pained pout. "You break my heart, Schatz."

Ao'nung sticks his tongue out at Mark. "Found him first."

"Where do you find cute boys like our Neteyam?" Mark continues their little joke, pretending to eye Neteyam up and down. "I only found this little gremlin."

Da-Som gapes in offence, though her eyes betray her amusement. "I will switch you out with a woman so fast. Who are you calling a gremlin?"

Ao'nung blinks in surprise at her words, but before he can react, the conversation already carries on. 

Mark coos down at Da-Som. "Of course. The ladies are waiting for the moment you are single to bounce on you."

Da-Som puffs his chest out in pride. "I did get pull more chicks than you back in my time."

Neteyam shrieks out a laugh, vodka coursing through his veins. He bends forward, gasping for air as he cackles.

Mark snorts. "What are you? Ninety?"

Ao'nung is no longer listening to the playful banter, mind occupied by the giggling sack that is Neteyam hanging from his arms. Without Ao'nung's arms around his middle, the archer would be kneeling on the ground. 

Ao'nung tugs Neteyam back upright and chuckles softly when the shorter male turns around in his hold and steals a kiss, wrapping his arms around Ao'nung's shoulders.

Da-Som catcalls them again, to which Neteyam giggles into Ao'nung's mouth. The surfer snorts, pulling back to kiss Neteyam's forehead instead. "Alright, calm down, Tey."

"Ahwe, did you hear that, Mark?" Da-Som shouts over the music happily. "They have cute nicknames! Why am I a gremlin?"

Mark shrugs, pretending to think hard. "Well, you're my gremlin." 

"How romantic," Neteyam chirps, rocking to the music sloppily, clinging to Ao'nung.

Eventually, Kiri, Rotxo and Spider join them, soon followed by Tsireya and Lo'ak. Ao'nung sighs in relief when he can fully focus on Neteyam, holding him up so he can continue dancing. Ao'nung enjoys dancing with Neteyam, though they rarely do. 

Ao'nung makes a mental note to schedule some kitchen slow dancing sessions. 

"You're so pretty, Nung," Neteyam slurs, staring into Ao'nung's face.

Ao'nung chuckles, bumping their noses together. "You're prettier."

"Do I get all the ladies like Da-Som?" 

"You don't even like women, Tey," Ao'nung chides playfully, nudging Neteyam's side with teasing fingers, tickling the shorter male. 

Neteyam pouts. "So they can't like me because I don't like them?"

Ao'nung decides to entertain him. "No, of course. You're the most handsome ladies man out there, Teytey."

Neteyam flushes, breath catching in his throat. "You're so sweet, Nungie. You're a real ladies man, too."

"Of course, baby." Ao'nung nuzzles their cheeks together, dancing slowing down with the beat of the songs as the night ends. "But I don't care about the ladies, only you."

Neteyam giggles, pupils wide and babyhairs sticking to his forehead. He agrees, trying to nod seriously. "Me too."

Notes:

What was I doing Instead of writing this?
Made an insta for Neteyam LMFAO based on photos I took in the sims lol here yall go:
https://instagram.com/ntym29?igshid=ZGUzMzM3NWJiOQ==

User is Ntym29 😆

Chapter 55: Summer Daydream

Summary:

Guys I met up w the korean dude I saw at the party and I mentioned once that I like milk chocolate w almonds and he brought me milk choco w almonds that his dad brought from america like 💀

Lo’ak and Tsireya decide to visit Tonowari and Ronal for the weekend, which leaves Ao’nung alone in the flat with Neteyam.

They lounge around in the living room, air-conditioning buzzing softly in the background. Ao’nung is mindlessly scrolling his phone, something he doesn’t often do, while Neteyam is on his laptop, the device sitting on his lap, feet placed comfortably on Ao’nung’s thighs.

One hand is massaging his soles as the surfer watches whatever video his feed decides to show him.

Neteyam’s hair is unbraided, freshly dried by the summer air, and twisted into a low, fluffy bun that is starting to fall apart. It bugs him a little, hair touching his nape, so he wiggles around from time to time with soft huffs.

Sometimes, Ao’nung would pause his scrolling to listen to Neteyam type, fingers fast and tapping quietly. Ao’nung tilts his head, wondering what his fiancé is doing, but he doesn’t ask, not wanting to break Neteyam’s focus.

As he types, Neteyam makes facial expressions that Ao’nung finds both funny and endearing. He’s got headphones on, and Ao’nung can see YouTube open on an ASMR video next to him where a girl with large blue eyes and golden hoop earring pampers the listener, pretending to be in a spa.

Ao’nung doesn’t really get ASMR.

Neteyam’s nails are all painted different pastel colours; the white nail-polish on his pointer finger is chipped. He’s been testing out colours for the wedding.

The idea of getting married leaves Ao’nung giggly, toes curling as he tries to bite back a large grin.

Neteyam pauses his typing, eyes lifting to the ceiling; he seems lost in thought before he goes back to typing. The girl in the video pretends to put cream on the listener’s face, nails tapping along the container near her fluffy mic.

Ao’nung switches to massaging Neteyam’s other foot, smiling when his naked toes wiggle, tickled.

Summer is coming to an end, but Ao’nung doesn’t mind. He misses learning, but he knows Neteyam does not.

The archer is at peace with the world, forty-degree heat not bothering him in the slightest; their apartment is only cooled to thirty-two degrees. Most days, Neteyam writes sometimes, the Word document’s background is switched to black, the text white. Ao’nung prefers normal, but he doesn’t judge Neteyam for writing in such a document.

Neteyam takes a moment to close his eyes, shuddering from Ao’nung’s massage and whatever else the ASMR artist is doing.

As the day comes to an end, Ao’nung finds himself in the kitchen with Neteyam, slicing zucchini while Neteyam prepares some eggplants in the oven, cutting a single neat slice along the length of each plant to spread once it softens and fill with steamed vegetables.

Soft music is coming from Neteyam’s phone, but Ao’nung isn’t paying attention to the music.

Neteyam avoids making meals with meat; his stomach cannot handle it and he’s also wildly disgusted with raw meat, sometimes even gagging when he has to clean left over feather stumps from a chicken or pull the skin off a slice of salmon.

Ao’nung grew up on fish and oysters and anything the ocean has to offer (except shark or whale or anything else equally magnificent).

Once Ao’nung is done with the zucchini, tomatoes, and bell peppers, he adds them to the pan of steamed onion and garlic, letting Neteyam season it before he rinses his hands and grins, stepping up behind Neteyam, who is putting away some knifes. Ao’nung wraps his arms around Neteyam’s middle, pressing himself flat against his back, kissing the side of his neck.

Neteyam shudders, tickled by the kisses. He chuckles and turns in Ao’nung’s hold, facing the man and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Ao’nung grins down at him, touching their foreheads together.

Ao’nung sways them both to the music languidly, eyes fluttering shut. Neteyam presses a kiss to his lips gently, lost in the soft music.

Ao’nung nudges him closer and guides Neteyam to stand on his feet, moving around the room in a lazy waltz. Neteyam grins against his mouth, holding on tightly so he won’t fall off.

Ao’nung matches his grin, inhaling Neteyam’s soft scent deeply.

He’s home.

And then he isn’t.

The next week, Tsireya suggests they all go to the beach; Ao’nung agrees easily and decides to invite Rotxo, who invites Kiri, who invites their third roommate, Spider. Neteyam is reluctant, Ao’nung can tell he just wants to type away on his laptop, but he’s easy to convince, Ao’nung promising to buy him passion fruit bubble tea.

Then, Neteyam becomes eager to go.

Ao'nung keeps his promise, and before they arrive, he does but the sweet drink for his sweetheart, flushing when Neteyam nuzzles into his side sweetly, kissing his shoulder before his attention is on the drink.

He pokes in the straw carefully, closing his eyes to make a wish beforehand. 

At the beach, Neteyam simply lies down on his towel in the shade, knocking out cold, blissfully unaware of Lo'ak sneaking over to take selfies with him that are less than appealing. 

Ao'nung settles beside Neteyam; he watches the other's cute, flat nose for a moment, memorising his freckles — Neteyam’s bunny teeth poke out as he breathes through his mouth, lips parted slightly. He's dug a hole in the sand for his half-finished bubble tea.

Tsireya and Kiri are busy lathering one another with sunscreen, chattering amongst themselves a little further away.

They don't have to be quiet; Neteyam's sleeping far away enough that he can't hear them. Ao'nung decides to lie down, drowsy from the unbelievable heat.

"You guys wanna go in the water?" Spider asks eventually, sipping from a bottle of white sprite.

Rotxo perks up, cheeks poofed up from a mouthful of biscuits. He speaks, voice muffled. "Yeah, let's go. Hey, Kiri, you wanna come swimming?"

Kiri nods, getting to her feet and dusting herself off. "Yes, I do. Lo'ak? Tsireya? What about you guys?"

Lo'ak pauses his excessive photography (he was taking overly zoomed in photos of a dozing Ao’nung) and blinks, tilting his head in confusion. "What?"

Kiri rolls her eyes, gathering her hair in a messy little bun. 
"You wanna go in the water?" She deadpans.

"Oh," Lo'ak sniffs, hiding his phone in his back and throwing his towel over it. "Yeah. I wanna go."

Rotxo and Spider are already sprinting across the beach, trying to see who's faster; Kiri shakes her head, amused as she follows after them at a comfortable pace.

"I could outrun them both," Lo'ak boasts to Tsireya, who giggles at his puffed out chest.

"So why don't you?" Kiri calls back to him, smirking. "If you're so sure."

"Bruh," Lo'ak deadpans. "They're already in the water!"

Kiri snorts, quoting the word with her fingers as she turns to him fully, walking backwards. "I'm not your bruh, Lo'ak."

Tsireya bites her lip nervously, glancing at all the people lying around. "Be careful, Kiri."

Kiri sidesteps a running child and salutes the younger girl. "I'm being very careful, Princess."

"Princess?" Lo'ak repeats, affronted. He wraps a protective arm around Tsireya's shoulder. "She's not your princess. She's mine—"

Tsireya lightly pinches Lo'ak's side, earning a startled yelp. "I want to be Kiri's princess today."

Lo'ak exhales, pretending to be hurt. "I see when I'm not wanted."

Kiri sticks his tongue out before turning to the water, wheezing when she spots Rotxo piling various sea plants onto Spider's head.
Tsireya giggles behind her hand, hurrying into the water to help.

"Hey, wanna race?" Lo'ak asks suddenly, turning to Kiri. 

They stand side by side, feet in the water. 

Kiri raises a brow. "What kind of race?"

Lo'ak grins, excitement dancing in his eyes. "You get on Spider's shoulder and Tsireya on mine. And we'll see who can push the other off first."

Kiri chuckles softly and shrugs. "You're on. But if I beat you guys, you'll buy me coffee."

Lo'ak pouts. "Hey! What do I get?"

"What's your deepest, darkest desire?" Kiri smirks, crossing her arms coyly. Her eyes slide to Tsireya, who is now also decorated with a wild array of plants. "Wait, nevermind. Don't answer that."

Lo'ak follows her gaze and flushes. "Hey, hey, hey! It's nothing like that!"

"Sure," Kiri hums, entirely unconvinced. "And the sky is not blue."

Lo'ak pouts, kicking water Kiri's way. She splashes at him before they both fully enter the water.

Blissfully unaware, Ao'nung dozes beside Neteyam, not seeing Kiri get pushed right off Spider's shoulders easily by Tsireya, toppling into the water unceremoniously. 

Neteyam turns to face him, eyes blinking open lazily. He smiles softly, eyes tracing Ao'nung's sleeping face, merely enjoying the silent company without longing for anything else. 

Notes:

Found out my ex is spreading nonsense about me to mutuals
My friend messaged him pretending to be confused about me "suddenly leaving the gc" to see what he'd say and the man fully went ahead to complain about me not sleeping with him for 4 months (which I track and is a lie LMFAO)
i am properly exhausted and its exam season too so
please excuse slow updates across all works or short chapters
i cant handle more rn

Conclusion: men ain't shit

Chapter 56: Mango Sweethearts

Summary:

Some fluff before we get into the last big plot thing I have planned for this story 🥰

---

Summer comes to an end. 

Neteyam moans about having to go back to school to Ao'nung, dramatically throwing his body over the surfer's lap as Ao'nung sits on the sofa in the apartment's living room.

"I don't wanna do this, Nungie!" Neteyam whines, covering his face.

He's had an energy drink because it had mango written on it and Neteyam cannot resist anything with mangoes in it. 

Ao'nung places a hand on top of Neteyam's head. "You have to, darling."

"No," Neteyam murmurs his protests, scrunching up his face. "I wanna move to the ocean and grow my own food and drink coconut and have a dog or a cat or maybe a snake—"

"A snake?!" Ao'nung yelps, startling Neteyam into silence. "Why would— what? Neteyam! A snake?!"

Neteyam squints, trying hard to keep the amused smile off his face. "Are you scared?"

Ao'nung's eyebrows raise, wrinkling his forehead. He's got a little wound above his left eyebrow from smacking himself in the face while chancing bedsheets. "No."

Neteyam continues squinting up at him, jutting out his lower lip, deep in thought. "You are."

Ao'nung scowls. 

Neteyam's eyes light up before he giggles, wiggling happily, as if the mere thought of learning something new about Ao'nung is one of the most joyous things to ever happen to him. He coos gently, wrapping his arms around Ao'nung's middle, nuzzling into his stomach. "My pretty baby is scared of snakes.~"

Ao'nung flushes, eyes widening. 

Neteyam sits up, openly swooning. He makes heart eyes at Ao'nung (the surfer refuses to admit the helpless whine that left him) and hugs Ao'nung around the shoulders tightly. "You're just such a little sweetie, Eywa!" 

"I'm not," Ao'nung whispers, voice trembling. 

Neteyam grins, kissing the side of his neck lightly. "Yes, you are! You're just a cute little man who's scared of moths and snakes."

"Heurgh—"

"Lo'ak!" Tsireya gasps, wide-eyed. She grabs the younger Sully brother by the arm and tries to tug him back into the kitchen. "Stop it! They're being sweet— You're ruining it!"

Lo'ak continues gagging, going as far as the bend forward, making so much noise. "I can't! My ears are burning!"

Neteyam snorts, unwrapping himself from around Ao'nung and sitting up properly. "Come on, baby bro. Don't be mean."

Ao'nung crosses his arms, an offended pout on his face. 

Lo'ak hides behind Tsireya, barely avoiding Neteyam's flying slipper. It slaps against the wall, leaving a dusty mark. The four of them fall silent before the two Sully boys burst out laughing. 

Lo'ak slaps his thigh, wheezing. "Bro! Your big ass foot mark is gonna be on that wall forever!" 

Tsireya cracks, hiding her face as she giggles; Ao'nung shakes his head, relaxing and chuckling quietly. He loves these people, genuinely so. 

"Holy shit!" Neteyam shrieks out between deep giggles. "It really is huge!"

"That's what she said!" Lo'ak yelps happily and covers his face, almost stuffing his fist into his mouth. 

Neteyam laughs harder, grasping his chest, pained wheezes escaping him. "Ow! Ow! I got a cramp in my lung!"

Ao'nung bites the inside of his cheek, rubbing his forehead. "Jeez."

Lo'ak crumbles to the floor, slapping at the wood. "I'm gonna pee myself—"

"Please, don't!" Tsireya gasps, kneeling beside him and placing a hand on Lo'ak's shoulder. 

Ao'nung doesn't think the dusty slipper mark on the floor is actually as funny as it is to the Sully's, but their reactions are highly entertaining. 

Neteyam, in his loud wheezing, tumbles right off the sofa, gasping in pain as his bottom collides with the cold, hard ground. 

Lo'ak only laughs harder, gasping for air and Tsireya genuinely looks worried, glancing back and forth between the two brothers. 

Ao'nung snorts. He leans down, tugging Neteyam back onto the sofa by the arm. "Come on, big foot. Up you get."

Lo'ak actually shrieks, grabbing Tsireya's hand and shaking it in his excitement. "Big foot! He called my brother— my brother big foot!" 

Tsireya clenches her eyes shut before a laugh bursts out of her. She pats the top of Lo'ak's head fondly. "And you're little foot, then?"

"Noo—" Lo'ak protests, flopping down onto his back. "No! I'm bigger! I'm bigger than Neteyam!"

Ao'nung swallows, cackling silently, only letting out soft puffs of air as his mind trails back to high-school; he hid in a bathroom stall with Lo'ak to measure each other and compare themselves.

Neteyam gasps in offence. "Oh yeah? You think you're bigger than me, baby bro?"

"Yeah!" Lo'ak retorts, sticking his tongue out. 

Neteyam gasps again, mouth hanging open. He stands, hands on his hips. "Get your grippers out, Lo."

"Grippers," Tsireya repeats weakly. 

Lo'ak shakes his head in amusement, letting out a soft huff. As he lies on his back, he lifts a leg, presenting his bare foot to his brother. 

Neteyam flops down in front of him and grabs him by the ankle, yanking him closer. He presses his own bare foot right against Lo'ak's. 

Tsireya grins, eyes lighting up. "They're exactly the same!" 

Lo'ak licks his lips and smirks, lifting his head before promptly sticking his toes between his brother's, as if holding hands with their feet.

Neteyam shrieks, falling back and scrambling away backwards like a crab. 

"Oh, Great Mother," Ao'nung exhales deeply, massaging his forehead. "Which one of you got dared to eat a bug, again?"

Lo'ak points to Neteyam with a smug, lopsided grin. "And dad caught him!" 

"You two must have been a handful as children!" Tsireya smiles, eyes shining with joy and adoration as she watches the two interact. 

Ao'nung is pleasantly surprised; Neteyam and Lo'ak had never quite been so playful with each other in front of them before in the many years they've known each other. 

Lo'ak pouts. "Neteyam was too busy pretending to be perfect!"

Neteyam shrugs. "Who said I was pretending, bro?" 

Lo'ak's mouth hangs open as he stares at his brother, speechless for a moment. Ao'nung coughs to hide a laugh. 

"Wow, okay!" Lo'ak holds his hands up in surrender. "I see how it is, Mr Love-myself."

"Really?" Tsireya asks, tilting her head as she faces Neteyam. "You didn't get in trouble?"

"No!" Lo'ak cuts in. "Mom and dad never even checked his bag for alcohol! And! And he got ro go to sleepovers with girls all the time!"

Ao'nung raised a brow, joining the three of them on the ground with a pillow. "And why do you think that is?" 

Lo'ak inhales, puffing out his chest before falling silent. "Oh."

Neteyam grins, leaning against Ao'nung. "But really. I kept doing all this stupid shit, but I never got caught."

"Wow, okay, sneak master!" Tsireya giggles behind her hand sweetly. "Ao'nung always did stupid things, too!"

Neteyam leans forward, intrigued. "Like what?"

Tsireya scratches her chin, humming. "Well, this one isn't exactly stupid, but mom would always catch him with her makeup bag or in her clothes. There's pictures on dad's phone about it!"

Lo'ak snorts, shaking his head, bemused. "Neteyam did the same thing! But I'm pretty sure we had this conversation before."

Neteyam tilts his head. "I still get the same makeup mom gets."

"It's interesting." Tsireya perks up. "I mean, not to be offensive, it's just some guys end up looking really trashy with make-up or dressing obviously feminine. But you look natural like that, Neteyam."

"Trashy?" Ao'nung frowns, pursing his lips. "What do you mean, Reya?"

Tsireya gasps, holding her hands up and shaking them about. "I don't know! That came out wrong! I mean it comes from how they behave, too! Like they make their entire personality about dressing feminine. In an in your face way!"

Neteyam hums, nodding along. "I think I get what you mean. It's like when women try really hard to be one of the guys, you know, Nung?"

Ao'nung nods once, slowly stretching his legs out in front of himself. Lo'ak listens to them patiently, not really interested in the conversation. 

"Think of it as dressing in a style that really doesn't suit you and it's obvious that it makes you uncomfortable, but you still keep pushing and dressing like that because you think others will pay attention to you like that more," Tsireya continues, shoulders sagging. "Gosh, this is really hard to explain! I feel like it sounds like I'm against men dressing feminine, but I'm not!"

Neteyam shrugs. "No, I get you."

Tsireya nods, exhaling in relief. "Oh, good."

Ao'nung leans back on his arms, eyeing his lap, tracing the patterns of his shorts with his eyes.

Neteyam kisses his shoulder quickly before turning back to Lo'ak and Tsireya. 

"I need to know what stupid stuff Ao'nung did," Lo'ak deadpans. "It's for science."

"For science." Ao'nung rolls his eyes. 

Tsireya giggles. "Okay. We used to spend summers with our grandparents far from home and Ao'nung would will these containers with water and try to give bugs swimming lessons."

Neteyam's brows raise, wrinkling his forehead. "Oh, really?"

"Neteyam did that, too!" Lo'ak exclaims, throwing his arms up. "It's like they're the same person!"

Neteyam rolls his eyes. "Definitely not."

Tsireya laughs softly and pats Lo'ak's head fondly. "Well, Ao'nung also would be too impatient to wait for our parents to pick him up from school, and if he had to wait more than five minutes, he'd simply start walking home. Once, mom almost called the police on him because she couldn't find him."

"Okay, so Neteyam didn't do that—"

"No, baby bro. But I remember you did."

Ao'nung cracks a small smile, watching Lo'ak laze around, settling his head on Tsireya's lap comfortably. 

"Dad told us," Neteyam begins, voice soft. "That when we were toddlers and he didn't speak omaticayan na'vi that well, he'd struggle to figure out what we wanted because we'd talk all mixed."

Tsireya eyes Lo'ak fondly, playing with his braids. "We didn't speak English at home for a long time." 

"Really, how come we don't all just speak na'vi?" Lo'ak hums, wiggling his toes to crack them.

"The metcayinan dialect is way too different," Ao'nung explains. "Like our sign language. It's completely unique to the American one for example." 

"Huh," Lo'ak sniffs. "Well, Tsireya taught me."

Tsireya beams, eyes lighting up. "He's really good at it, brother! He can hold long conversations now! It's how we talk at night when you two are already sleeping."

Neteyam grins, scrunching his nose. "Wow, my baby bro. So smart."

Lo'ak snorts. "I am."

"Well, I can teach you," Ao'nung whispers to Neteyam, cheeks dusting. 

Neteyam grins, nodding eagerly. "That would be nice."

"So." Tsireya claps once. "What funny things did you do as a child, Neteyam?"

Lo'ak perks up visibly. "So much stuff!"

"Hey, be quiet!" Neteyam protests with a laugh, lacing his fingers with Ao'nung's. 

"No, never! The world needs to know!" 

"What's world?" Ao'nung asks. "It's just the four of us here."

"Well, Tsireya is here and she's my world!" Lo'ak announces, sitting up and puffing out his chest proudly.

Ao'nung pretends to gag, drowning and Tsireya's swooning. "You're so sweet, Lo'ak!"

Ao'nung hides his own smile in Neteyam's hair, amused and endeared all at the same time.

"Neteyam used to collect leaves!" Lo'ak announces suddenly, face red. "And then he'd forget about them and just accidentally crush the dried leaves and then we would struggle to clean it out of the carpet." 

"Well," Neteyam murmurs. "That was kinda boring, though."

"Fine." Lo'ak cracks his fingers swiftly. "You would never believe what this asshole did when we were seven!"

"What?" Tsireya grins, eagerly leaning closer.

Ao'nung perks up, intrigued. 

"Mom and dad were fighting once—"

"Lo'ak, no—"

"And! This guy—" he points to Neteyam. "He wanted them to stop, so he fully went and pushed me down the stairs!"

"It worked!" Neteyam flushes, clearing his throat. 

"What were they fighting about?" Ao'nung blurts out, blinking quickly. 

"Brother!" Tsireya chides. "You can't just ask that! It's private."

Neteyam snorts. "No, it's fine. Lo'ak punched someone at school and mom was blaming dad for teaching him that."

"So, your solution was to push him down the stairs?" Ao'nung snorts, amusement twinkling in his pale blue eyes. "I better not be a victim to one of your strange ideas."

"It wasn't the only thing, though!" Lo'ak continues. "Once I got to stay home from school because I was sick and this bitch took the TV remote with him so I couldn't watch TV!"

Neteyam bites back a laugh, flushing. 

Lo'ak inhales deeply. "When we were like five, we had to eat with a box of cereal between us or we'd fight over our food and we ended fighting over which side of the cereal box was facing who!"

"God!" Ao'nung yelps out, slapping his knee, tears in his eyes as he throws his head back, laughing. "No way you did that! Tey, you didn't tell me you were a little shit."

"But wait wait wait!" Lo'ak giggles. "Once as a kid, I asked him what happens if Santa sees you on Christmas when bringing the presents and this motherfucked looked me in the eye and asked me where I thought he got his elves from!" 

"Oh, no!" Tsireya giggles. "You poor thing."

"I cried!" Lo'ak whines, pouting.

Tsireya giggles behind her hand. "Well, if it helps, once were on the highway and Ao'nung really had to use the bathroom but there weren't any. Dad told him if he chugged an entire bottle of ice tea, it would help him hold it in. Mom was asleep, so she didn't know."

"Damn, your dad used to bully you, huh?" Neteyam asks with a soft huff of a laugh, squeezing Ao'nung's hand, who only pouts in response. 

"The fuck—" Lo'ak wheezes out. "Tell me he didn't piss himself!"

"No," Tsireya grins, all teeth and dimples. "But he woke up mom with his crying because his tummy hurt. Mom made him get off the highway to take him into some bushes on the side of the road and he peed for about 4 minutes straight."

"Oh my goodness—" Neteyam gasps out between fits of laughter. "Poor baby."

"Well, our dad was our biggest bully as kids!" Lo'ak announces loudly, sharing a look with Neteyam. "He convinced Neteyam that if he ran fast enough, he could pass through our front door and he actually tried twice before mom found out."

"Tsireya used to try drowning me in the sink when we would do dishes together," Ao'nung smiles sweetly, batting his lashes at her, only for Tsireya to fling herself at him and attack him with tickles. 

"And I would do it again!" She yells out as they topple to the floor with a loud thud. "You don't even do dishes anymore!"

"Wow, you really are a siren!" Lo'ak breathes out, starry-eyed. 

Tsireya stops her attack on a shrieking Ao'nung and beams proudly, blushing. "Yes. So be careful, handsome, I might drag you under."

"Where?" Ao'nung asks, rolling his eyes. "In the bathtub?"

Lo'ak flushes, averting his gaze. 

Ao'nung falls silent, eyes widening before they go blank. He turns to Tsireya with a deadpan. "Tsireya. My darling sister. Don't tell me you take baths together?"

"We're old enough!" Tsireya protests, wacking Ao'nung on the top of his head swiftly. "You do worse things with Neteyam!"

"Yeah!" Lo'ak pipes loudly. "Like letting him top—"

Neteyam covers Lo'ak's mouth with his hands hurriedly, attempting to silence him. "That's enough, baby bro. You don't want me to spill your dirty little secrets to the love of your life, do you?"

Lo'ak shakes his head hurriedly, eyes as big as saucers. 

"Smart choice."

"Oh, wow. It's almost one in the morning!" Tsireya gasps in astonishment. "We have to get up early for our first classes tomorrow, I mean today, guys!"

"Oh, you're right," Neteyam mutters, eyeing the clock on the wall. "That's a shame. I don't feel tired at all."

"Damn, good for you bro. I always get super sleepy after drinking energy drinks." Lo'ak gets up gingerly, cracking his back. 

Neteyam shrugs, following his lead. "Cause you have ADHD."

Lo'ak cocks his head to the side and offers a downturned smile. "It do be like that sometimes, brother. I'm just built different."

"Yeah, like a baked bean."

"A baked!" Lo'ak shouts out. "A baked bean?!"

They stare at each other in silence before doubling over, laughing.

A little ways away, Ao'nung wraps an arm around Tsireya's shoulder as they watch the two dark-skinned boys bantering. "I'd say we picked pretty well."

"Yeah," Tsireya agrees easily before a playful smirk settles on her sleepy face. "I picked better than you, tough."

Ao'nung scoffs, poking her cheek. "As if."

Notes:

I'm taking ideas for what story you guys want next BTW!
As long as it's Aonunete 😇

Chapter 57: Chinese Food

Summary:

The only bad thing about majoring in Korean is the overflow of childish K-pop fans (who also somehow forget shampoo exists).
Anyway, enjoy this lil chapter where we get into Ao'nung's head a little more <333

Notes:

slight tw for ed for second half of the chapter

Ao'nung finds himself taking an elective class about the religions of the world with Da-som. He doesn’t understand what she is doing there, nor how the world decided they needed to be paired off together for their final presentation at the end of the term.

And yet, Ao’nung find’s himself not complaining. Despite his initial unease around Da-som and her loudness, she seems genuinely kind.

“So, what are you doing after class?” Da-som grins, not missing Ao’nung’s daze.

The young surfer really considers dropping the class, especially if the ex-monk professor utters ‘Buddhism is happiness’ one more time in his presence. Ao’nung is certain one could play a drinking game with that little phrase.

“I don’t know,” Ao’nung hums with a shrug, stuffing his notebook in his bag. “I was planning on going back home and literally sleeping.”

They step out into the hall, walking side-by-side. “Didn’t sleep well?”

“Nah,” Ao’nung mutters, shaking his head. “I slept fine, I just feel really drained after this class.”

Da-som perks up, barely avoiding knocking into a rushing group of students. “Jeez. Well, apparently, we’re going to have new guest lecturers every class, so it should be fine. Are you religious?”

“Yeah,” Ao’nung breathes out, scratching under his right eye roughly to rid an itch. “Are you?”

Da-som clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “No. It’s not my thing. Are you Christian?”

Ao’nung grimaces. He knows the conversation that will follow. “No.”

“Well, then what do you believe in?” Da-som tilts her head to the side, long, straight hair falling in her eyes. She blows at the stray locks before giving up and pushing her long bangs behind her ears.

“The Great Mother.” Ao’nung yawns, rubbing a hand over his face as they make it out of the building.

Da-som is visibly confused, mouth parted, and brows furrowed. “What?”

“What what?” Ao’nung repeats, raising a dark brow, preparing to be offended.

Da-som frowns, holding her hands up. “I’m asking what that is. There’s no need to glare, bro. I just haven’t heard of that before.”

Ao’nung, feeling scandalized, puffs his cheeks up before blowing out air slowly, loudly. “Okay.”

“Wanna sit there?” Da-som points across the university’s garden to some empty benches.

Campus is packed full, everyone still enthusiastic to attend all lectures the first couple weeks, including Ao’nung. Neteyam is here somewhere, too, among all these people, he notes. The thought makes him smile and he nods, following after Da-som with a quiet ‘sure’.

They settle down and Da-som gets out a bottle of Sprite and her food. She offers some to Ao’nung, but he shakes his head.

“So, who’s the Great Mother?” Da-som asks, already stuffing her face.

Ao’nung decides to get out his own food, a very fancy sandwich Neteyam had made for him in the morning, eggs, and all. “Our Goddess. She is very important to my people.”

“Where are you from again?” Da-som continues pestering him with questions, but Ao’nung slowly finds himself relaxing and not minding.

“Awa’atlu,” Ao’nung admits.

Da-som bites the inside of her cheek for a moment, looking a little unsure of herself. Ao’nung realises that he hadn’t really been asking questions of his own.
Ao’nung clears his throat.

“Uh,” he swallows thickly. “I’m Metcayina.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that. I know a guy who is from the same place,” Da-som grins, eyes squinting. “And your fiancé. Where is he from? He looks Afro-American.”

Ao’nung blinks, mind numb. “Ah. I’m not sure he’s considered Afro-American. His mom is omaticayan, but she isn’t from Afrika.”

“Oh, the rainforests with the mountains that look like they’re floating!” Da-som announces, struggling to open her drink.

Ao’nung takes it from her wordlessly and easily opens the bottle of Sprite, handing it back after he was sure it wouldn’t explode in his face.

“Yeah. That’s the place,” Ao’nung admits, smiling tensely, nervous about discussing his heritage with a complete stranger, but Da-som only keeps smiling happily, kicking her feet back and forth.

“That’s pretty cool,” she grins, all teeth and Ao’nung notices one of her front teeth are chipped slightly. “Wanna get to know each other?”

Ao’nung pauses mid-bite before give one careless nod. “Why not?”

Da-som sets her food on the bench and calps once. “Awesome. I’m really curious about this with everyone. Who’s your role model?”

Ao’nung thinks for a moment, the people he knows flashing through his mind one by one before he shrugs. “My sister, I guess.”

“Oh, what about her makes her your role-model?”

“She’s really kind and absolutely not impulsive,” Ao’nung chuckles to himself, amused. “I guess that can’t be said about me.”

Da-som giggles, scrunching her nose. “I mean, you are a bit of a firecracker. Anyway, I don’t have a role model, so I always ask everyone.”

“I see.”

“If you had to pick one–skydiving, bungee jumping, or scuba diving–which would you do?”

Ao’nung’s face lights up. “I dive regularly actually.”

“Oh, really?” Da-som gapes. She smooths down her skirt and Ao’nung notices a pale, brownish bruise on one of her shins. “That’s pretty cool. I used to do figure-skating.”

“What are your plans for next weekend?” Ao’nung supplies his own question weakly, starting to feel a little awkward.

“Nothing yet,” Da-sum replies as she sips her Sprite, coughing from the bubbles. “Why? Is anything cool happening around campus?”

“Not that I know of,” Ao’nung mutters. “But there will be a festival on the beach to say goodbye to summer.”

“Is that a religious thing?” Da-som asks, eyes twinkling. She leans a little closer, awfully good at keeping eye contact.

Ao’nung swallows the nervous lump in his throat (he isn’t even sure why he’s nervous to begin with, since Da-som is half his size and not mean at all). “More cultural. There’s quite a few of us here who speak some dialect of na’vi, so we got together to organise a festival.”

Da-som grins, amused. She leans back on her arms and tilts her head. “Are you inviting me?”

“I—” Ao’nung stutters out, brain freezing up.

He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down before his eyes land on a subtle little pin on Da-som’s bag. His face softens, lungs suddenly less tight as the realisation hits him; he’s uncomfortable around Da-som, because she is very open about her preferences when it came to love.

Ao’nung sits up a little straighter, feeling lighter. “Actually, I kind of what to talk to you about something.”

Da-som’s smile never fades. “Alright.”

 

---

 

Ao’nung watches Lo’ak, frown etched onto his face.

Neteyam and Tsireya are locked away in the bathroom, doing each other’s braids, so Ao’nung finds himself alone with the youngest Sully boy.

Lo’ak had left early in the morning for archery practise, before Ao’nung did, and got home later than anyone else.

Ao’nung hasn’t seen him have breakfast since classes started back up. Not once, and often, he had skipped out on dinner as well, saying he’s already eaten on campus, but Ao’nung is no fool.

He knows Lo’ak hates eating in public.

He also knows he needs to be careful about this if he actually wants to ask, but Lo’ak has been complaining about having headaches and being tired more and more often.

“Hey,” Ao’nung calls out to the other male, squinting.

Lo’ak pauses whatever video he was watching until being disturbed and turns to face Ao’nung, taking out an earbud. “Huh? What’chu want?”

“You wanna get some food?” Ao’nung clears his throat, glancing at the clock. “The Chinese place is still open.”

Lo’ak seems to think about it before shrugging. He subconsciously smooths a hand down the front of his T-shirt, lingering on his lower stomach (and that’s when Ao’nung’s growing suspicions are no longer just suspicions), fiddling with his waistband. “It’s fine. I’m good.”

“I don’t want to go alone,” Ao’nung protests, trying to coax Lo’ak without having to outright say what he’s thinking.

Lo’ak locks his phone and sets it aside, eyes a little shinier than usual, but nothing else gives away his feelings and Ao’nung does not like not being able to read him.

Lo’ak fiddles with is lower lip, grazing blunt nails over the soft skin before he lifts his shoulders, letting them fall with a soft sigh. “I can walk with you.”

Ao’nung takes a moment to calm himself, not very good with being gentle. Not unless it is Neteyam. “I want to eat there. I don’t want to bring home the packaging.”

“Oh, right. Environment. Do you think they’ll mind if I sit with you?”

Ao’nung shuts his mouth with a loud click. He exhales loudly through his nose and tightens his bun a bit. “What did you eat today?”

Lo’ak’s lips fall open and his eyes widen for just the faintest little moment, but it’s enough for Ao’nung. The surfer watches the youngest boy shuffle around awkwardly in his seat, glancing down at his stomach (somehow, that hurts Ao’nung probably more than it hurts Lo’ak himself).

“I got this pastry thing from the bakery between classes.”

“Lo’ak,” Ao’nung chides gently, and decides exactly how he’ll approach this. “It’s almost nine in the evening. You need to remember to take food with you.”

Lo’ak looks confused for a second before relaxing. To Ao’nung, he looks like he’s melting into the cushions on the sofa. “Right. I forgot.”

Ao’nung gives a curt nod before getting to his feet, patting his thighs. “Come on. Let’s go eat.”

Lo’ak sighs and nods, following after Ao’nung, flinching when the surfer yells out for Tsireya right by Lo’ak’s ear, to let her know where they’re going.

Neteyam pokes his head out from the bathroom, wide-eyed and pouting. "Hey, but I love Chinese food."

Ao'nung chuckles, taking in the state of Neteyam's hair. The left side of his head was fluffed up, completely unbraided, the ends drenched in oils that Ao'nung is much too lazy to use on himself. 

"I'll bring you some, what do you want?"

"You just said you want to avoid packaging!" Lo'ak protests loudly, making Tsireya also poke her head out of the bathroom, hiding a giggle behind her hand.

"Well, Tey's hungry."

"Oh my god, you simp!" Lo'ak rolls his eyes, grasping Ao'nung by the wrist and tugging him out the door, staying in his flipflops.

Ao'nung cackles, deeming his mission successful.

Notes:

Fun fact, I named my laptop Helga and she's kinda really beat up but it's okay because she's high-end lmao. The screen is taped together with x-mas washi tape bc she got injured during shipping cause my sister sent her from germany lol

Chapter 58: A/N

Hey guys!

As some of you might know, my ex has been quite a handful lately. I broke up with him 20th May.

I still read his messages, because I suspect he's spreading lies about me. I was correct. And unfortunately, my town is fairly small and his family very influental.
In short, he came to my house when I was away at uni a few towns over and told my mother that he knows I went a walk with a korean man (there arent many foreigners in my home), implying I went on a date with him. I'm a korean major and I want friends to learn the language and I do not see this korean man in a romantic way at all... As I said, not many foreigners, so unfortunatly he's a man... BUT my ex is blocked on all socials and the picture I posted on insta doesn't tag my korean friend, he merely commented on it, so my ex somehow has access to my account, which is private.

And my mother thought I actually met a korean man to be romantically involved with, so she got mad at me and now I cannot tell her about him at all and my ex pushed me into a corner because HE KNOWS what my mother is like about dating and escpesially dating someone not my own race.

The girl he's been cheating on me with has sent him photos that she bought condoms. I'm high-key worried they've had sex while he was still with me.

And last, he's been telling his friends that I dumped him out of the blue and that I didn't love him and refused to sleep with him for 4 months and those friends said not so kind things about me to him to comfort him, so I had to send them screenshots as proof, because small town and I have never been with any other men. Luckily they seem to believe me.

I found out that to one friend, he said that I don't have to worry about the other girl, because she's a lesbian (she isn't). To my mom, he said he'd never date her because she's 15 (he's 20, me 22). To me, he said they're just friends and that he rejected her when she confessed to him.

I think I might need to take a break for a few days because I ended staying up all night in a mild state of panic and I think I possibly developed an allergy because my eyes itch and I keep sneezing and my nose feels swollen but I'm not actually sick.
Also, yesterday afternoon I found out I was sorted into an exam for today noon that had 60 questions and 30 minutes to answer.

And I still have a few exams left and have been awake for nearly 40 hours.

And as a bonus, he came over to bring some my stuff that was left at his house and brought me a blouse and a hairtie that is not mine...

Also, now I have to talk to his family, because they have been ignoring me and his grandma called my mother in a state of panic that my ex feels absolutely gutted by what happened and he's struggling... Nobody knows he cheated and sold weed (illegal here).

So long story short, there are a lot of things I need to do if I want to make sure people don't believe I'm a slut, as he's starting to spread about me and somehow finally end this situation, because he actually came to tell MY MOTHER that he was never involved with that girl and that I MET SOMEONE ELSE.

So, I'm unsure when I will be back.

Love Txepvi <3

Chapter 59: Golden Blues

Notes:

Hey guys, thank you for everyone who commented about my situation <3
and ill eventually get to answering the comments too
(fun fact, my ex sent me a thong as a parting gift...)
I appreciate the support and I've been feeling a lil better so I finished this part that I've been working on since may 28 T.T <333

---

Ao'nung's parents come over to crowd the apartment before the festival, fussing over Ao'nung's clothing.

Neteyam watches fondly, bouncing little three-year old Srufke on his lap; the little girl squeals in delight at his many colourful hair beads, tugging on them with chubby little hands. Neteyam doesn't try to stop her, accepting the slight pain of having his hair pulled.

Ronal corners Ao'nung with the help of Tonowari and starts undoing his fuzzy little braids much to Ao'nung's discontent. Ao’nung doesn’t hate a lot of things, but having his hair redone is one of his mortal enemies, especially when Ronal loses her patience and gets rough with her hands.

"You cannot go looking like you are homeless!" Ronal chides, earning an offended scoff from her eldest child. She pays him no mind, pushing his fluffy curls to the side to work on braids she has yet to reach, untying them with swift fingers, fast as lightning. Neteyam thinks she might be faster than Neytiri at undoing braids.

"Ma! I do not look homeless," Ao'nung retorts, suddenly resembling his angsty fifteen years old self again with his eye-rolling and heavy pouting. He crosses his arms and huffs loudly, earning himself a little yank on his braid from Ronal.

Neteyam chuckles, nuzzling into the soft hair of the littlest metcayinan sibling. Srufke giggles happily, babbling some words to him – she can talk somewhat, but not a word of English leaves her lips, and her accent is too strong for Neteyam to understand her na’vi. 

Ronal tugs on her son's hair roughly. "You do! Now, behave and sit down so I can reach the rest of your head."

“This is abuse—” Ao’nung complains, face pinched in discomfort from Ronal tilting his head at an awkward angle to undo his braids right by his ear. He looks to his father helplessly, but Tonowari only shrugs, a downturned smile on his face. He seems highly amused by Ao'nung's fussing.

Eventually, Ao'nung finds himself in the bathroom with his mother; Neteyam doesn't mind taking care of the little girl, cooing softly to her as she notices his necklace and tries to munch on it.  He tugs it from Srufke’s teeth gently, poking her nose. She grabs his pendant with chubby fingers.

Tonowari sits down beside them, eyes twinkling in delight. His back is straight and his shoulders strong; he’s proud and sure of himself, everything Neteyam aspired to be.

 "You are good with children,” Tonowari remarks easily, reaching over to ruffle up the little girl’s curls. (Something he only dares doing because Ronal cannot see them.)

Neteyam smiles, carefully tugging his pendant away from the curious child, tucking it under his T-shirt safely. Srufke goes back to focusing on his beads. "I looked after Tuktuk a lot when mom and dad were at work."

Tonowari hums, wondering just the extent of the eldest boy’s chores – he would never make his own older children take care of Srufke in favour of working. Of course, there are days he cannot avoid passing off Srufke to Tsireya or Ao’nung, but those are mainly emergencies – he knows from Jake himself that he simply likes to spend extra time at work, since most of his co-workers are his friends. Tonowari isn’t sure about Neytiri, but of course, no parent is perfect – and anyway, he sincerely hopes Neteyam did not have to give up his own hobbies in favour of taking care of his siblings (though, chances are low).

 "How was your last semester?” He asks instead with a kind glow in his pale blue eyes. “Got perfect grades again?"

Neteyam beams, sitting up straighter. He bounces Srufke on his lap, drawing more happy squeals. "I have a four-point-nine grade average."

Tonowari hides a wince with an awkward smile, eyes squinting. "Remind me what is the most you can get?"

"A five," Neteyam murmurs quietly and tilts his head so Srufke can better reach his beads. He doesn’t seem the list bit offended that Tonowari doesn’t know the grading system (his Ao’nung would have thrown a bit of a fit), his patience never wavering, voice just as soft and kind as always.

Tonowari raises his brows, pursing his lips. He thinks for a moment before giving a proud nod. "Impressive." 

"Thank you, ow, hey hey—" Neteyam winces, hand coming up to grasps the toddler's little fist tangled in his braids, tugging harshly.

"Tsireya has failed a class," Tonowari sighs out softly, watching Neteyam free himself. 

Neteyam pauses, lips parting in silent surprise before a sheepish smile takes over his features. "As far as I know she did well in everything else so it should be fine."

"Indeed, but now this degree will take her an extra year," Tonowari replies easily and sighs out through his nose. He is a little disappointed, but he understands there are things going on in the life of their children that he no longer will be informed about – whatever caused Tsireya to fail this class, perhaps an illness or an argument leaving her sleepless, Tonowari knows she’ll be alright.

Neteyam doesn't know what to say. He tries anyway, but Tonowari can see the way he chews on his lip and wiggles his toes nervously. “She likes university life… Um… She’ll be fine, I think.”

Tonowari holds his hands out and the young male hands over the toddler carefully, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. Tonowari merely misses holding his baby. “She will be.”

Neteyam clears his throat and nods, placing his hands on his lap and lacing his fingers. He can hear Ao’nung throwing a fit in the bathroom about a braid being out of place and he chuckles quietly.

"I won't keep you. You must get ready for the festival as well," Tonowari grins, eyes twinkling in mischief. "You should lend Ao'nung some of that gold eyeliner I've seen you wear on photos."

Neteyam clears his throat, cheeks flushing. "Ah. Okay."

He scurries away to their shared room and begins rummaging around for the modest little bag of makeup he has. There isn’t a lot in it; and most of it is Essence, one of the cheapest possible options. He does have two sunscreens, one tinted, one simply mattifying. He likes mixing them, because the tinted one is too dark for him on its own. Which a surprise, since his skin is usually too dark for products he can buy in this region.

It’s funny, because it makes Neteyam understand Kiri’s struggles in always being too pale for any foundations, the same way Kiri understands his occasional issues that come with being a mixed kid.

Lo’ak is the one who is loud about said issues – Neteyam chooses to ignore them for the sake of his peace of mind.

Neteyam wonders if Ao’nung has ever faced discrimination for being darker-skinned and if anyone has ever mocked Tsireya for her curls and thick brows – because Neteyam himself has been told he’s too white-passing, which he doesn’t think is true. He isn’t light skinned by any means, but next to his mother and Tuktirey, it does become more obvious that his father is white.

Before his mind can stray to the comments he received for his vitiligo (accusing him of trying to become white and bleaching his skin), he shakes his head with a sigh and gets to work on preparing himself for the festival barely a few hours from now.

He has a little tube of clear eyebrow gel to set them into place and he smears a generous amount on the dark hairs. He wants to use the golden eyeliner, but he does have a pale blue one that is the colour of Ao’nung’s eyes, so he settles on that.

 However, he doesn’t line his eyes with it like normal, choosing to instead draw a simple line on the underside of his eyebrows near the ends. This is a festival after all. He adds a little tilted square (it’s been a while since he had maths, so he doesn’t remember the name) in the middle of his forehead before he deems himself ready to move onto his hair.

After a while of him adding beads and feathers, Ao’nung steps inside with a sour face.

Neteyam perks up. “Sit.”

Ao’nung can only blink in surprise for a while before he shrugs and settles down on the bed, sitting in front of Neteyam.

“I will do your makeup—”

“Makeup?!” Ao’nung squeaks (if you ask him, it was a growl). “I do not need makeup—”

“It’s a festival, Nungie,” Neteyam huffs, already holding onto his golden eyeliner. “I already did mine.”

“And you look gorgeous, but makeup is not for me.”

“Why not?”

Ao’nung tenses. There is no way he can word this without offending Neteyam and his liking for feminine things. He doesn’t want an argument, so he purses his lips and averts his gaze, scowling.

Neteyam places a tender hand on his shoulder before it travels under his skin, tilting it up with a single finger. Ao’nung doesn’t quite want to look him in the eye.

“What’s wrong, Nung?”

And Ao’nung hates this – he hates how Neteyam can just tell that he wants to try his makeup and his nail polish and all his pretty things; but something holds him back. Why is it so easy for Neteyam to read him?

“I don’t know.”

Neteyam’s gaze softens; he’s being careful with his words, Ao’nung can tell as much. It makes him uneasy – Neteyam shouldn’t have to tiptoe around him.

“You don—”

“I have issues accepting myself.”

“Oh—”

Ao’nung holds his breath, wide-eyed and feeling raw. Neteyam’s eyes soften further, if possible, and he sets his eyeliner down, cap back on. He scoots closer until their knees touch, and he takes one of Ao’nung’s hands in his own. “What part of you can’t you accept?”

Ao’nung’s lips tremble and his face scrunches up – but he holds on tight and doesn’t let his feelings get the better of him. “I— I want you to do my makeup.”

Neteyam smiles, leaning over to steal a little kiss. “Anything for you.”

Notes:

I might do Theoretical linguistics, Cultural Studies or Dutch Studies as my minor, wish me luck to be accepted into at least one bc i really like the sound of them all <33

Chapter 60: Lime Lemonade

Summary:

Stuff that happened since the last chapter:
• I got a long, slimy text from my ex attempting to apologise 💀 and now he really wants to "make things right"
• My grandma had open heart surgery🥲
• Had 3 exams in 2 days 😭
• I'm literally exhausted and this took 6 whole funky days to write (but it was fun so it's fine)
• Cut my finger on the paper while handing in my exam bc I'm literally crushing on the professor 🤪🤣🤣🤣

Anyway
Some of yall like my rambling about my life so here yall go
The rest of you, simply enjoy the chappie ♡

---

Surprisingly enough, Ao'nung forgets about the makeup on his face the moment they arrive at the festival — however, until then, he's nervous.

He hasn’t got anything on his forehead, unlike Neteyam, just a simple golden line under the outer curves of both his dark brows and a single one going down the centre of his chin. He thinks the colour is better on Neteyam’s skin than his own, but at the same time, Ao’nung likes the way it makes him look.

He lets Neteyam take a picture of him for his close-friends-only story and they even show their matching faces to the group chat. 

It's fun, all in all, but Ao'nung still gets a little nervous and fluttery when he looks at the photos and remembers that those pretty lines are still indeed on his face.

And they're not tribal markings — they're merely for Neteyam's aesthetic pleasure.

Neteyam smiles at him, all but beaming as they stand in their room. "Are you ready?"

Ao'nung chews on his lower lip before nodding. "Yeah, let's go."

Tonowari and Ronal are in the living room, chatting amongst themselves quietly as Tonowari holds a napping Srufke, letting her drool on his shoulder. 

Neteyam's eyes linger on the man's impressive amount of tattoos, especially the ones on his face. He has to admit, at first they scared Neteyam. He wonders if both Ao'nung and Tsireya will get their own tattoos as they get a little older.

Tonowari perks up at the sight of his son, giving him a little downturned smile and a thumbs up. 

Ao'nung sags in relief and almost reaches up to rub at his eyelids and most of his face, but Neteyam gently grabs his wrist, pale brown gaze sweeping over the moles along Ao'nung's features.

"Have fun," Ronal whispers to them with a content smile. Neteyam thinks that's a rare look on her.

"Thank you," they both mouth back silently and carefully leave the apartment.

The festival is loud – there’s a portable theme park too. The rides seem to be in good condition if a little retro. Most people did not bring children and the beach if full of youth, mainly students. There’s candy floss and a lot of beer, but Ao’nung can also smell the traditional Metcayina wines drifting in the air.

Neteyam sees a lot of bikinis and grass skirts.

Later on in the evening, there will be a concert held by a young band who makes modernised metcayinan music; Ao’nung actually really likes them.

Tsireya is decked out in all of her favourite, predominantly white shells. They adorn her neck, ankle, wrist and even her ears bear little clip-on shells. She seems the most excited out of everyone to be here, already talking to other groups even if she only recognises one face among fifteen.

“So,” Kiri hums, linking one arm with Rotxo’s, the other with Spider’s. They both stare at her as if she’d hung all the stars across the cloudless night sky above them. “What can we do here aside from getting on the rides and eating?”

Rotxo grins. “Dance and drink, of course.”

Neteyam watches Tsireya drag Lo’ak off to greet yet another person. He laces his fingers with Ao’nung’s, listening to their friends talk.

“We do that a lot though,” Kiri purses her lips, unimpressed. “I thought festivals meant bonfires, fireworks, and lots of loud music—”

“You’ll get your bonfire later, crystal girl,” Ao’nung huffs, rolling his eyes. “Things are just getting started.”

“Yeah!” Rotxo grins, pale blue eyes twinkling in excitement. He shuffles his feet a little, digging his bare toes into the sand. “There will be a talent show.”

“Talent show?” Spider parrots.

Rotxo beams. “Yeah. The winner actually gets such a cool prize, but it’s only ever revealed after you’ve won.”

“Is there lemonade here?” Neteyam whispers to Ao’nung quickly, squinting to find anything non-alcoholic.

Ao’nung huffs out a laugh. “Come on, we’ll find you some.”

“What was the prize last time?” Spider asks, leaning closer, interest piqued.

“An actual yacht,” Rotxo smirks, puffing out his check. “It wasn’t that big or anything though. Sometimes it’s just some surfboards, usually like three and this one time it was a diving kit with like spare tanks.”

“How do you win that?” Kiri gapes, less impressed by the diving kit and more so by the surfboards.

Rotxo snakes an arm around her pale, freckled shoulders, smiling so wide even his entire bottom row of teeth is visible in the dim light. “That, my lady, is really simple. You just got to feel the drums.”

“The drums?” Both Kiri and Spider echo, bewildered.

“Bro, that’s the worst advice ever—” Spider protests weakly, shaking his head with an amused chuckle.

Rotxo shakes his head hurriedly. “No. Most people do traditional dances or songs for the competition. Those are led by drums.”

“Who’s taking part?” Kiri sighs out, already anticipating the show. “Do we know beforehand?”

Rotxo points across the beach to a large booth. “You just have to write your name on that paper pinned to the pillar until the competition starts. You get called in the order you signed up.”

Lo’ak and Tsireya show up next to them suddenly, both holding bags of food.
 “Where’s Ao’nung and Neteyam?” Tsireya hums, eyes raking over the growing crowd.

“They went to find lemonade, didn’t they?” Lo’ak pulls a face, earning a laugh from Kiri and Spider.

“Lemonade?” Tsireya giggles. “At a mainly Metcayina festival? That’s cute.”

“Hey,” Lo’ak whines out, nudging Spider to take some food. “Be careful who you call cute. I might get jealous.”

Kiri’s face scrunches up before she actually gags a little. “Men being jealous isn’t attractive, bro.”

Lo’ak inhales sharply, looking absolutely affronted just as Kiri and Rotxo take most of the food from him and Tsireya. They both keep a hold on the bag belonging to their older brothers.

“It’s okay, Lo’ak—”

“What’s up with Neteyam and lemonade?” Rotxo pipes up.

Lo’ak shrugs. “Nothing special. He just always wants to find lemonade because he thinks they’re made best at festivals. He's literally obsessed and then complains about having to pee all night. Oh wait, I see them.”

“He actually did find lemonade!” Kiri snickers, shaking her head fondly. “Who are they with?”

“I think that’s Da-som and Mark. Ao’nung’s new friends.” Tsireya adjusts her hold on the bags and sighs, stomach rumbling loudly, drowned out by the music. “They should hurry, I’m starving.”

“Here, I’ll hold Ao’nung’s.” Rotxo holds his hand out, taking the bag from Tsireya, who doesn’t waste a single second more to dive into her food, fries, and some type of fish. She doesn’t even bother using the weak, plastic fork.

Neteyam accepts an invitation to take some photos with Da-Som, Mark and drags Ao'nung into the frame as well. Da-Som links an arm around the surfer's shoulder and gets on her tippy toes to be in the frame with three tall men who are all crouching down.

Neteyam gets lost in watching a group of girls screaming on a roller coaster and already feels dizzy from just the mere sight — they seem to be having fun though.

Da-Som pats Ao'nung's back and beams up at him. 

He blinks down at her in confusion for a moment.

The dark-haired girl's smile is all teeth and dimples. She gestures to her own face — lacking any fancy makeup — and then to Ao'nung's own face. "You look good."

Ao'nung flushes, clearing his throat. "Thanks."

He stands a little straighter after that. 

Notes:

I'm about to drop smth ginormous in a chapter or two >:]
Feel free to leave some guesses

Chapter 61: Whitegold Pearl

Summary:

Party time and tipsy Teyam💃🏻

---

Eventually, with the help of Rotxo, they locate the best traditional alcohol and get absolutely buzzed up — Ao'nung watches Neteyam, mouth hanging open as he tucks his top up to expose his stomach, dangly piercing twinkling in the warm light of the torches and the enormous bonfire. The dark-skinned male has his hands above his head, a wide grin on his pretty little face (Ao'nung is openly gaping at him) as he dances around, not really to a rhythm, merely swaying his hips as Kiri and Tsireya taught him, knees a little bent.

It almost looks like a belly dance of sorts.

Ao'nung pauses, eyes widening as he spots Kiri sandwiched between Spider and Rotxo, who are quite literally holding hands around her tall, lanky form. 

Neteyam follows his gaze and give a little shrug, stepping over and wrapping his arms around Ao'nung's strong shoulders. Ao’nung inhales his scent deeply, sweet and yet strong, muscular. Neteyam beams up at him, eyes half lidded, pupils a little wider than should be. 

It's a good thing they walked — or maybe not. Sleeping in the car would have been useful. They haven't done that in a while.

Ao'nung swallows thickly, leaning down a little to bump noses with Neteyam. "Hello, pretty."

Neteyam giggles, hiding his face in Ao'nung's chest, stumbling a bit. Otherwise he seems alright, his balance is just a little off. Shyly, he peeks up at Ao'nung. "Hi." 

Ao'nung places his palm against Neteyam's exposed lower back, caressing the warm skin. "You pulled your shirt up, baby."

Neteyam nods, words hardly reaching him. "I did."

Ao'nung smiles, feeling soft and fluffy inside as Neteyam's bare feet (he doesn't know when or where his shoes went) settle atop his own, requesting that Ao'nung leads their dance. And Ao'nung knows a thing or two about dancing — he also doesn't care that the rhythm of the songs is much too fast for their slow swaying. 

Ao'nung gazes into those beautiful, pale brown eyes, face soft and relaxed. "You don't mind, darling? Your shirt, I mean."

Neteyam thinks about it for a second and, words a little slurred, he shrugs. "S'okay. I always tell Lo'ak it's fine. Who cares about a little white skin."

Ao'nung bites the lump in his throat — he remembers the time when Lo'ak accidentally showed off Neteyam's entire back to their group, and how he'd been told to not follow after Neteyam as he stomped away into the forest for fear that he might get violent. 

Ao'nung has never seen Neteyam violent — except once. He can still feel that punch sometimes. But he also might have kinda-sorta deserved that for being a major asshole to Lo'ak and Kiri. 

He's a changed man though.  

"We should get married soon," Neteyam pipes up suddenly. "In the break? Are the beaches hard to reserve?"

"Which beaches, darling?" Ao'nung asks, pressing his lips to Neteyam's flushed cheek. 

"Where Naìtvì and Kaey got married." Neteyam sniffles, squinting for a moment as he gets distracted by a stray firefly. Ao'nung bites back a swoon. "That beach. I like that one. Do you like that beach, Nungie?"

"I do."

"It was really pretty," Neteyam rambles on, eyes still following the little bug. 

"Yes, it was." 

"But I'll get sand in my shoes," Neteyam murmurs, tilting his head curiously as the bug flies closer to them. He reaches a hand out, back scares it away. He pouts. "Will we wear shoes?"

"For our wedding?" Ao'nung chuckles, having seen the entire process of Neteyam eyeing the bug. 

Suddenly, Neteyam holds up his hand, showing off his darling little ring. "I'm gonna wear this forever. I should get you one too. Cause I'm not a woman, you know. We should both have one. But you should forget I told you that. It's supposed to be a secret."

Ao'nung, bites his lip, snorting quietly through his nose. The music drowns out the sound and so Neteyam doesn't notice. He does, however, notice one of Ao'nung's hand reaching the back of his head and holding it tenderly. "Of course, darling."

Neteyam sighs happily, leaning back into the warm palm on his head. His eyes flutter shut, so Ao'nung slows his swaying to a minimal, keeping Neteyam wrapped securely in his arms. 

"I love you," Neteyam coos softly, cheeks dusted a deep red that even in the dark, Ao'nung can see. 

That same blush would have been intense on Kiri's face — Ao'nung shakes his head. What does that matter? His pretty boy is blushing in his arms in a crowd of people, not caring that his vitiligo is on full display. 

"I love you, too, baby," Ao'nung coos back, pressing his cheek against Neteyam's. 

The young band of musicians take the stage; Ao'nung hears a few complaints when the music dies and people don't yet quite notice what's going on, before the crowd begins to cheer. 

Neteyam scowls at the noise, tucking his head under Ao'nung's chin. He absolutely loves that he's shorter than someone at least. 

The band plays upbeat music for a good hour before the lead singer clears his throat and searches the crowd with his striking, pale blue eyes. 

"Hey guys," he says, clearing his throat and reaching for his water bottle. Before he takes a sip, he keeps talking. "I hope you guys are enjoying the show."

He receives cheers. 

"I got a very special request from a young guy," he continues, gesturing something for his bandmates. 

Neteyam giggles, hugging Ao'nung tighter. "Is someone proposing?"

Ao'nung merely hums. "Dunno."

"He asked to not reveal his name, so of course, we'll honor that," the singer beams, hooking an arm around one of his drummers. "Allow us to cover a very unique song. I'm sure you all know it. He Mele No Lilo. Good luck, bro." 

The singer gives a thumbs up and the music twirls along the night winds in a familiar melody.

"I love this song—" Neteyam grins, before his eyes widen and he merely points somewhere behind Ao'nung. 

Ao'nung frowns, head tilting before he turns to look and his eyes widen as well, mouth hanging open in surprise. 

The crowd had parted a little, and in the middle, there's Tsireya in her pretty dresses and seashells, standing with her hands covering her mouth as Neteyam's very own little brother kneels in front of her, at least four shades paler than usual, hands shaking as he holds a delicate little box.

Suddenly, it makes sense why Tonowari and Ronal came to visit. 

Neteyam cannot hear what Lo'ak is saying, and he's too surprised to even attempt to lipread. Kiri is closer, and she's giggling silently at the scene, absolutely delighted. Rotxo has taken it upon himself to be cameraman, phone propped up on a squatting Spider's head.

Ao'nung holds his breath, heart pounding against his chest. 

It feels like forever before Tsireya actually shrieks and tackles Lo'ak into the sand, finger now adorned in white gold and pearl. 

There's cheering, but not for the band — Lilo and Stitch is the very first movie they watched together. 

Notes:

What do we think?🤭

Chapter 62: Mango Cider

Summary:

Some more spicy Teyam ✨️

Incase anyone else forgot (like me) Neteyam was 20 at the start of this fic and he'll be turning 22 in a couple of "months"/chapters
Ao'nung is a handful of months older but I didn't explicitly give him a birthday 🌼

Notes:

Low-key dedicating this chapter to umbrella_daydream so if you're reading this shout out to you bestie

---

Neteyam is still tipsy; his eyes are red from the little sobbing session he had against Ao'nung's chest, but now he's bobbing along to the music again as they stand side by side to watch the talent show. 

Ao'nung knows a few of the guys and girls who perform, he actually knows who he's rooting for — Neteyam however, has no idea who anyone is. Many people merely travelled here for the occasion, not actually living in, or near town.

Neteyam perks up as a group of young men take the stage in grass skirts (he assumes it grass, he doesn't actually know) with woven green around their ankles and wrists. 

"Do you know them?" He tilts his head, peering up at Ao'nung with glassy eyes.

Ao'nung hums as the drums pick up. "I do." 

Neteyam giggles suddenly, covering his face. 

Ao'nung cannot help his own smile. "What is it, darling?"

Neteyam chokes on one of his giggles and shuffles closer, pressing himself against Ao'nung's side. Ao'nung wraps an arm around him, rubbing his arm gently as he waits for an answer. 

"That's what we're gonna say soon—"

"Ah," Ao'nung huffs out a laugh, tickling Neteyam's side. "You feeling romantic?"

Neteyam nods, uncovering his face. He bites his lower lip, no longer paying attention to the performing group up on stage. His focus is solely on Ao'nung. He leans in close, lips grazing along the skin of Ao'nung's ear. "I found a spot."

Ao'nung smirks, goosebumps raising along his skin. "What kind of spot did you find, hm?"

Neteyam's eyes squint as he smiles, red-cheeked. He tangles his finger with Ao'nung's and points towards the pleasant darkness of the nearby forest — well, it isn't actually forest sized, but the bushes are thick enough to hide them. If Ao'nung agrees of course. 

The surfer grins. "Is that so? Didn't take you for the outdoorsy kind."

Neteyam blinks, looking scandalised. "We go camping—"

Ao'nung snorts, shaking his head fondly. He rubs his knuckles over Neteyam's cheek lightly and leans down to steal a sweet, soft little kiss. Neteyam hums against his mouth and tugs him towards the plants, turning to walk straight. 

"You're not sober, Tey," Ao'nung chides gently and attempts to slow them down, but Neteyam is determined to get to the forest. 

"I'm not drunk either," he says with a sweet pout and flicks a stray braid from his face, pushing it over his shoulder. "And I really want you."

"I'm flattered," Ao'nung coos, taking a larger step behind Neteyam and reaching out, swatting at his backside. "Here we are at a festival with so many people and all you can think about is me. How cute,  Teytey." 

Neteyam squeaks, twirling around and grabbing Ao'nung's wrist. They reach the trees and disappear inside. 

"What are you saying—"

Ao'nung smirks coyly, walking Neteyam backwards until he's pressed up against a tree, chest to chest with Ao'nung. He easily reached behind Neteyam with both hands and grasps his behind, kneading the firm flesh slowly. It earns him a couple of gasps before Neteyam calms down, eyes fluttering shut. 

Ao'nung presses a leg between Neteyam's own, nuzzling their noses together before stealing a soft kiss again and again — Neteyam tastes faintly like mango cider and candy floss.

"Please," he exhales deeply, hitching a leg around Ao'nung's waist. "I want you."

"We're on a beach," Ao'nung murmurs against his lips, nipping at the plumpness. 

Neteyam groans, throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. His hips shift around restlessly as he grasps at Ao'nung's upper arms, feeling the surfer's firm grip on his ass. 

Ao'nung's hands slip higher, strong hands holding on to Neteyam's hips. He presses his thumbs into his lower back, drawing a strangled moan from the shorter male.

"Nung, you can't say that and then touch me like this, please," Neteyam whimpers out, tilting his head back against the smooth bark of the tree. 

Ao'nung teases him, making a show of glancing around. "I'll think about it."

Neteyam huffs, face scrunching up. He's flushed with need and a little sweaty from the lingering heat of the bonfire.

"That's not fair," Neteyam whispers sadly, cheeks puffing up as he pouts. He trails a finger up Ao'nung's arm. "I prepared so good for you."

Ao'nung curses, inhaling sharply. "You prepped?"

Neteyam nods, biting his lower lip shyly. "I'm all clean and ready."

Ao'nung swallows thickly.

"For you," Neteyam mutters, hand resting on the back of Ao'nung's neck, nesting under his curls. Then, he shrugs, letting his hitched leg fall down slowly to the ground. "But if you're not interested—"

Ao'nung huffs out a small laugh and rolls his hips down against Neteyam's, smirking when it causes Neteyam's breath to hitch. "Oh, who says I'm not interested."

 

---

 

They stumble back to the festival sometime around four in the morning, makeup smeared and hair frizzy from the humidity. 

Lo'ak raises a brow, looking his brother up and down, making quite a show of it. He stands holding Tsireya's hand, the girl's eyes glossy as she yawns.

Neteyam, mostly sobered up, makes a sour face and promptly turns the other way.

"Where'd the others go?" Ao'nung asks casually, looking Lo'ak in the eyes as thought he hadn't just been railing his older brother in the forest where anyone could have found them.

Lo'ak stares him down for a moment longer before he's disturbed by his own yawn — it makes Ao'nung yawn too, which draws one from Neteyam. A single tear escapes the archer's eye; he stands beside Ao'nung, holding his hand, eyes closed.

"They went home not long ago."

Ao'nung chuckles at the state of Neteyam, wrapping a protective arm around him. "We should probably head back as well."

Lo'ak relaxes and nods, though he does still seek a little embarrassed by the state of his brother. "One of these days, you're going to straight up break him."

"Nah," Ao'nung smirks. "Impossible. He fits like a glove."

Lo'ak groans, face pinching in pain and disgust at the implication. "Gross. I don't need to know that, man—"

Neteyam yawns again, eyes still closed as he leans against Ao'nung — it draws a giggle from Tsireya.  "Are we ignoring that I tell you everything, baby bro?"

Lo'ak rolls his eyes, properly miffed by the conversation. "Anyway! Let's go. We gotta walk all the way back. If you can manage that, bro."

Neteyam squints his eyes open and then cuts off in yet another yawn. He flips his little brother off and wraps his arms around Ao'nung's strong shoulders, leaning his full weight against the surfer. 

Neteyam's legs are a little shaky.

Notes:

Apparently witnessing romantic things spices Neteyam up
I don't make the rules here 🤭

Chapter 63: Orange, Lemon & Ginger Jam

Summary:

I dissociated and wrote 1k words for the first scene and I'm not even mad bc it's so cute💖

Notes:

Since some of you really love my version of Lo'ak, I decided to focus this chapter on our little bean for some portrayal of his relationships with the others before I pick up the plot again <333

---

Neteyam sits down beside Lo'ak, two fluffy slices of bread on his plate. It's early morning, not long before Neteyam's first class of the day. Ao'nung is at swimming practise and Tsireya went home with a stomach bug - her body likely had not taken kindly to the variety of drinks she's decided to try out at the festival.

Lo'ak frowns, taking off his headhones. "What's that?"
He's got Payakan stuffed between his legs and under his stomach as he lazes on the sofa in his sleeping clothes, hair unbraided and a fluffed up mess atop his head that he's too sleepy to fix.

"Jam," Neteyam says easily, squinting when the sounds of a plant trimming machine drifts in from their opened window. 

Lo'ak glances towards the noise before his attention back on the offending pieces of food his older brother seems very eager to have. "Why is it yellow?"

Neteyam snorts, taking a bite. " 'Cause it has lemon and ginger in it. But it's mostly orange." 

Lo'ak looks mildly offended by the idea and gags. "Ginger? Gross." 

Neteyam shrugs, mouth full of the sweet, yet bitter deliciousness that he knows he's the only one who actually finds delicious. Ao'nung had actually gagged when he offered to try it and Tsireya was reduced near to tears from the weird mix of tastes.

"More for me." Neteyam stretches his legs out, propping them up on the coffee table, teal, striped socks distracting Lo'ak's attention for a moment.

He lies back down atop Payakan and stuffs his curls under his hood, chewing on his lower lip as he focuses on his phone again. He scratches his nose, then his ear before sighing and turning onto his back, knocking his headphones to the floor with a loud pang. "Bro?"

"Yes?" Neteyam drawls, wiping the crumbs from his hands onto his empty plate.

Lo'ak sits up and reaches over to smooth down his brother's baby hairs. "You know you're really important to me, right?"

Neteyam blinks in surprise, cheeks flushing before he sets his plate down and scoots closer. "What's the matter?"

Lo'ak sniffs, nuzzling his face into Neteyam's neck, expression cpletely hidden by his hoodie. "I don't want us to not live together."

Neteyam smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "We don't have to move out."

Lo'ak clears his throat. "But aren't married couples supposed to live by themselves?"

Wrapping his arms around his little brother's slightly thinner frame, Neteyam tugs Lo'ak straight onto his lap, rubbing the younger boy's back gently. "So what? Who says we have to be like everyone else? We can always just be neighbours, too. We don't have to live miles away from each other."

"I don't wanna be neighbours though," Lo'ak grumbles, snuggling closer. His arms wrap around his brother's shoulders, legs around his torso. He clings like a little koala. "I want to live together. Forever. Who am I gonna bother in the middle of the night when I'm bored?"

"Hopefully not me," Neteyam chuckles under his breath, nosing along his brother's hooded head, trying to catch his scent. "And I doubt you'll want to live with me when you have kids."

Lo'ak huffs, his breath hot against Neteyam's throat; Neteyam exhales deeply, starting to overheat a little. The weather doesn't exactly cool down here even as winter aproaches. He tugs down Lo'ak's hood anyway to bury his face in the soft curls, inhaling the scent of their shared shampoo. Lo'ak wiggles around in his hold a little and Neteyam winces when his hip cramps form the weight of his brother.

Lo'ak has never been much smaller than him even as children; and he's by no means small now. Lo'ak is very tall, too, not just Neteyam. They've both grown up followed by basketball comments and the occasional giraffe or skyscraper joke.

"I'm always gonna want to live with you," Lo'ak mumbles after a while, closing his eyes as Neteyam begins massaging along his scalp, careful not to tangle his fingers in Lo'ak's hair.

Neteyam chuckles fondly. "I'm sure that'll change when you'll start living the married life with Tsireya."

"Nah." Lo'ak beams suddenly, sitting up straight. He holds on to Neteyam's shoulders for support and puffs his chest out proudly. "I still haven't slept with her, by the way. And I'm not going to until we get married for real."

A smile tugs at Neteyam's lips. He bumps his nose with his brother's (like they always used to to do with both their mother and father) before simply pulling Lo'ak down to rest his head on his shoulder, holding him close.

"Wow, look at all that self-control," Neteyam teases lightly. "But is it hers or yours?"

"Hey!" Lo'ak protests in a fit of laughter. "It's definitely me. I'm kind of scared. I have no idea what to do. Obviously, you can't help. You don't know anything about girls."

Neteyam smirks, rolling his eyes. "You know that I've always been allowed to their sleepovers."

Lo'ak lifts his head again, lips pursed and eyes squinted. "Did you experiment?"

"No," Neteyam huffs, laughing quietly. He drags Payakan over to hug both the toy and his brother. "But there's always a lot of gossip during sleepovers."

"Man, I'm so jealous. You need to pass your knowledge down to me, oh wise one, because I'm definitely not asking dad. He's gonna start hiding condoms in my bag again."

Neteyam chokes on his own spit and simply flops down on his back, pulling Lo'ak down with him. He goes down without a fight and doses off almost instantly.

 

---

 

With Neteyam at archery practise and Tsireya at home with Ronal caring for her, the only remaining people at the flat are Ao'nung and Lo'ak. They're both lazing on the sofa.

Lo'ak perks up suddenly, setting his phone and his giant Tulkun plush aside. He gets up and grins down at Ao'nung, who's still sitting on the sofa, smelling the mischief radiating off the younger Sully. "You wanna see if I have any ripe strawberries?"

Ao'nung stares at him, face blank. "What?"

Lo'ak places his hands on his hips, pouting. "In my room."

"Is this some new slang for drugs—"

Lo'ak deadpans. "No!"
He slaps his own forehead dramatically and steps over to Ao'nung, grabbing his hand, making him almost drop his phone as the smaller male drags him to his feet.

"Alcohol?" Ao'nung tilts his head, refusing to take a step in the direction of the room Lo'ak shares with his sister.

"Oh my God! Stop being so fucking suspicious, fish boy. It's literally strawberries. Come on." Lo'ak drags him to their room, ignoring Ao'nung's weak protests. In truth, he's actually curious, because he definitely did not take Lo'ak to be a little gardener.

They step inside the room and Ao'nung immmediately stares at the curtains hung up above the bed, adorned by fairy lights. They're mostly seethrough, light green, adorned with a little, simple pattern or leaves. All in all, the room is pretty feminine, but nowhere near as pink as Tsireya's princess room at home.

There's a lot of green and Ao'nung recognises Lo'ak's cameras in a corner, and his photograps on the wall, along with a few medals. The young Sully has taped a badly printed photo of a graded exam above the desk next to the heart-shaped scramble of photos. He lost only two points.

Ao'nung spots a little desklike piece of furniture with a few plants and some clutter on it and actually does a double-take.

"You actually grow strawberries in here?"

Lo'ak's grin widens and he all but bounces over to the plants. "Yeah. They're so cute, look."

Ao'nung follows after him; Lo'ak pulls back some of the leaves to reveal little spots of red among the green. "Some of them are kind of sour, so I have to wait until they get a bit mushy."

"You should give them a little more shade," Ao'nung suggests easily, remembering his cousin's garden. He runs his fingers along some leaves and inspects a ripe berry. "People think they love the sun, but they prefer shade in the afternoon."

Lo'ak follows his advice and transports the plant across the room to the desk he shares with Tsireya. "I named him."

"What? Who?"

"The strawberry." Lo'ak points to the plant and tugs off a few wilted leaves, scrunching them up and scattering it along the soil. "His name is Steve."

"Steve?" Ao'nung snorts, covering his face, highly amused. "Did you actually name the plant Steve of all things?"

"I mean, dad almost named me Luke."

There's a moment of silence before a loud snort bursts from Ao'nung. "No."

"Yeah."

"Damn. Well, I was supposed to be Nu'ung." Ao'nung pokes at some of the books on the desk, head tilted. He spots some notes with Lo'ak's disasterous handwriting and shakes his head in amusement. They're practically glowing with Tsireya's pink and yellow highlighters.

Lo'ak plucks a few berries, squishing them a bit in the process, smearing his fingers red. He holds his hand out to Ao'nung, chest puffed out in pride at his little achievement. "Try them."

Ao'nung bites back an amused laugh and lets Lo'ak desposit a few of the berries in his palm. He pops a berry in his mouth and hums. "Not bad."

Lo'ak practially stuffs all of his into his mouth at once, beaming. "Right?"

"Hey, close your mouth," Ao'nung groans, looking away. "I can see down your throat."

With a sly, red-lipped smirk, Lo'ak crosses his arms. "You wouldn't mind if it was my brother."

Rolling his eyes (again), Ao'nung decides to play along. "Yeah, and that usually ends up with a dick being shoved in there-"

"Oh, holy shit, please stop talking-"

They eventually settle back down in the living room, sprawled out on the sofa. Lo'ak is half hanging off, apsentminendly chewing on Payakan's torn fin (Ao'nung can imagine it smells like spit and decides never to touch the stuffed animal ever again).

The surfer glances at the clock and sighs, getting impatient. Neteyam's practise ends in about ten minutes, and then he'll be coming home - Ao'nung can barely contain his excitement to see him again.

"Hey, baby Sully," he speaks up suddenly.

"Yeah?" Lo'ak murmurs around a handful of blue fabric.

"How'd you get the band to learn that Lilo and Stitch song?"

"Oh," Lo'ak hums and sits up. "Your dad knows the singer's dad, so I asked him to help."

Ao'nung nods, impressed. "You actually asked for his permission?"

Lo'ak shrugs, cheeks steadily tinting as he avoids looking into Ao'nung's eyes. "I might have only told him days after the band said they'd play it. He didn't actually know why I asked, but he probably suspected it anyway."

Ao'nung admits the obvious. "I didn't even ask your dad."

Lo'ak bites bit lower lip. "Yeah, I know. Neteyam actually told me he asked if you're there to ask for permission when we had the dinner to announce the engagement."

"Did he really think that's why I got the entire family there?" Ao'nung huffs out a deep laugh. "Well. Close enough. Did you tell them about Tsireya?"

"Um."

"Thought so." Ao'nung stretches his arms above his head and groans happily as his spine cracks just right. "Are we going to have another dinner?"

"Nah, mom will know right away why, she's too smart." Lo'ak rolls onto his stomach, propping his feet up on Ao'nung's lap. "I might do it the next time we go camping or something."

"Fair enough." Ao'nung stuffles a yawn and, out of instinct, holds one of Lo'ak's feet. "Listen, what do you think Neteyam will say if I get a tattoo?"

Lo'ak thinks about it for a second, wiggling his toes to try and shake him off, but Ao'nung doesn't even seem to notice, lightly massaging his soles. "We're gonna get one, too, at some point."

"What kind?" Ao'nung asks, ignoring that Lo'ak forgot to answer his question for the time being. He can always backtrack.

"It was going to be a Medusa one, but I'd honestly rather forget that stuff than be reminded of it every time. So we're gonna get an ikran outline with gold ink both. What do you wanna get? Is it gonna be something traditional on your face or something like that?"

Ao'nung purses his lips and shakes his head. "Modern society doesn't take kindly to face tattoos and I'm probably not moving back to the village, so no. It'll just be lineart on my back most likely."

Lo'ak considers his words before he nods; he cannot help wiggling about, his feet extremely ticklish. "Sounds good. Teyam likes tatted guys."

"How do you know?" Ao'ung raises a dark brow, snorting. 

"Uh, I'm his brother, duh. He tells me everything. Including the time you guys got nasty in the kitchen right in front of the window and made eyecontact with someone from the neighbouring building."

Ao'nung feels ready to burst into flame from the shame. "Why would he tell you that?!"

"He was half-asleep," Lo'ak respons with a cheeky grin. "He's really easy to interrogate when he's eyes are still half-closed."

"You're evil," Ao'nung cackles in amusement, scratching his forehead and flattening some of his fluffy baby hairs. He's due for a rebraid soon. The humid festival air had not been kind to his hair.

"Nah, I like to call it resourceful."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Yeah, that's your sister."

"Watch yourself-"

Notes:

sometimes I remember that my friends moved in together for uni without me (even though our parents discussed we'll live together) and then they all applied for an exchange program to korea that they also didn't tell me about until the deadline and I couldn't get the documents for it ://

Chapter 64: Little Brother's Plush

Summary:

Made a Pinterest board for the story ♡

https://pin.it/2BybT4w
Lemme know what yall think
I tried to be as accurate as possible but ofc that's hard bc I chose to keep Metcayina and Omaticaya as actual human cultures in this fic sooo
Anway
Enjoy ♡

Notes:

I don't want plot only cuteness

---

Lo'ak bursts into the room, hair a mess and pyjamas wrinkled into oblivion. He's dragging Payakan along. 

"I demand cuddles." 

Neteyam groans, burying himself into Ao'nung's side, face mushed against a hairless armpit. Ao'nung pulls a face at him and tries to pull him out, bothered by the hot puffs of air against his sensitive skin.  

"Tsireya will be back tomorrow—" 

"I demand them now," Lo'ak insists. 

"Bro, we're grown men—"

"I don't see your point," Lo'ak deadpans, shuffling over and flopping down over the both of them until he wiggles his way between the two, earning groans when he smacks Ao'nung in the face with Payakan's bottom fins. "Affection doesn't have an age limit."

"Sure," Ao'nung snorts. "Cuddling with your brother-in-law is definitely normal."

Lo'ak only giggles, wiggling happily to get comfortable before making kissy faces at Ao'nung. "So is kissing him."

"That was for a game—" Ao'nung protests, scrunching up his face in mild annoyance as he remembers that he did indeed share not only one, but two kisses with the younger Sully. 

Neteyam is out cold next to them, mouth hanging open as the early morning sunshine blankets the room in a soft, golden glow. Ao'nung can see specks of dust floating around.

Lo'ak lies facing Ao'nung; he turns back to look at his brother, stifling an amused snort at the way Neteyam is simply dead to the world around him. He slings a leg over Ao'nung's and beams at him, wiggling closer — he enjoys feeling small beside someone. 

Ao'nung glares down at his leg for a moment before rolling his eyes and accepting his fate. Neteyam curls around Lo'ak from behind and Ao'nung drapes a lazy arm over the two, hand resting along Neteyam's shoulder. Closing his eyes, the surfer feels himself drift off, comforted by the warmth around him. 

Before he falls asleep, he can feel Lo'ak snuggling closer — a smile tugs at his lips.

The next time he comes to, he's got a mouthful of Lo'ak's hair in his face and he's somewhat suffocating. Lo'ak is spread out on his back, arms and legs spread out like a starfish over Ao'nung and Neteyam. 

Ao'nung nudges him; Lo'ak doesn't even stir.

Carefully, the Metcayina pushes the smaller male's limbs off of himself and sits up, sleep still in his eyes. He needs to get to class — then, he remembers, he shares this one with Neteyam, so he turns to look at his dozing fiancé, warmth filling his chest at the sight. He stands and wanders off to the bathroom for a quick shower. 

Neteyam stirs, but he does not want to wake up — the bed feels incredibly soft and the sheets caress his naked toes just right. The fabric of the fluffy pillow against his cheek is the most heavenly feeling ever and he's not willing to give that up. 

But he has to, because Ao'nung is back, wearing only his jeans and a towel is draped over his shoulders, around his neck. "Wake up."

"Don't want to—"

"We're going to be late," Ao'nung chides playfully and crosses his arms over his chest as pale brown eyes slowly flutter open and peek up at him through dark lashes.

Neteyam pulls the covers up over his nose until only his eyes and hair can be seen. "Can't we skip?"

Lo'ak's eyes snap open. "Who are you and what have you done to my brother?"

Neteyam huffs out a deep, raspy laugh laced with the aftermath of sleep and rubs a hand over his forehead. "I kidnapped him and sent him to another planet with big blue aliens on it." 

"What?" Lo'ak blinks owlishly at him before a yawn cuts him off and he stretches out, back arching of the bed with a happy groan. 

His yawn travels over to Neteyam; Ao'nung laughs at them and shakes his head. "Why would we skip?"

Neteyam pouts up at him. "Because I asked?"

Ao'nung watches as Lo'ak sits up, grabbing Payakan before wandering out of the room to go back to sleep in his own bed.

Then, the surfer settles down beside Neteyam, sitting beside the sleepy male. He places a hand atop his head and caresses his hair. Neteyam remains lying down. His toes peek out at the bottom of the covers.

Ao'nung notices a few specks of white skin along the long, slender digits for the first time; he stares at them in awe and Neteyam lifts his head awkwardly to follow his line of sight and then huffs, dropping his head down onto the pillow. He pulls his foot back under the covers. 

Ao'nung lies down on him, the covers separating them. Chest to chest, he kisses Neteyam's nose and places his hands on either side of Neteyam's head. He does not mention the vitiligo scattered on Neteyam's foot that definitely wasn't there a year ago. Neteyam sighs in relief and wraps his arms around Ao'nung's waist, sweltering under the heat of the surfer and the bedsheets atop him. 

"So, why do you want to skip class?" Ao'nung murmurs tenderly, lips ghosting over Neteyam's own.

Neteyam's eyes flutter shut before he sighs — his breath stutters a bit before he exhales deeply right into Ao'nung's face. The surfer ignores his morning breath with a squint. 

"I'm— I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed," Neteyam admits, already feeling more than stressed just from thinking about all the work he needs to get done.

Ao'nung, remembering the damp towel around his neck, tosses it to the floor and wiggles under the covers, holding Neteyam to his chest, a hand on the back of his head. "We can stay home."

"Wonderful," Neteyam coos, cuddling close. He peppers Ao'nung's bare shoulder with kisses before promptly biting him — Ao'nung only laughs.

As Neteyam curls around him, Ao'nung holds him close, kissing the side of his head. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"No." Neteyam rolls his ankles, clenching his toes to crack them. "I just have a lot to study and all these papers. You know, I don't think we should plan a wedding before midterms after all. "

"Hm. If that's what you want," Ao'nung whispers. "We can do that."

Neteyam inhales deeply, scrunching his face before letting out a loud sneeze, entire body jerking up for a moment from the force. He sniffs and blinks slowly, feeling winded.

Ao'nung bites back a laugh and holds him closer, tighter, melting into each other. 

Neteyam regains his senses eventually. "We should probably set a date though, so people can be ready."

Ao'nung, already half asleep, hums in response. 

Neteyam squints at him before smirking; slowly, he sits up and settles atop Ao'nung's hips. "Don't fall asleep on me now, Nungie." 

Ao'nung places his hands on Neteyam's hips, staring up at him, eyes twinkling and attention captured by the archer. "I'm not."

"Excellent," Neteyam grins, glancing to the side to make sure their door is closed before stretching his arms above his head, making his sleepshirt ride up, reaching a gently twinkling golden piercing. He rolls his hips down against Ao'nung's, coaxing deep moans from the surfer.

"This is a nice way to spend the morning," Ao'nung comments, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Neteyam only shrugs, smiling coyly down at him. 

Notes:

Some indian dude came up to me when I was alone, telling me he knows i like dominant guys and that i should grab a coffee with him💀

So naturally my not even 50kg ass called my mom and she had the audacity to get mad at me, saying that I should just pretend to be on the phone if I don't want people to talk to me even though I told her I called bc I wanted someone to know if something happened bc who knows who tf that dude was 👹

Side note, I was wearing long black jeans a simple red T-shirt and this woman fully told me I should not dress like a whore and then people wouldn't try to scout me to be a prostitute 💀
She literally complimented my fit before I left for my exam that day

Anyway I will longer be having children
Ever

Chapter 65: Honey Honey

Summary:

Those of you who loved Not a Soldier yet and Beautiful Lie, I have created a story that's a mix of both <3
And also very angsty
It's called dancing with the bullets

---

Ao'nung is sitting next to Neteyam in their shared biology lecture when the archer suddenly perks up and turns to whisper to him.

"Hey, Nung," he murmurs tenderly and places a hand over Ao'nung's own. "I just realised. We never asked each other to officially start dating."

Ao'nung tilts his head. "Wow, you're right. I did show up at your house with huge flowers, though."

"I pressed the petals into my journal," Neteyam admits quietly, a sweet smile gracing his features. 

Ao'nung's heart flutters wildly in his chest at the endearing little smile adorning his beloveds freckled cheeks. "What else did you do with my gifts, baby?"

Neteyam flushes, clearing his throat. "Obviously, the ikran plush is at home."

Ao'nung grins coyly and leans over, wrapping an arm around Neteyam's shoulder, reaching over him and fiddling with the atokirina patterned bracelet he'd gifted him months ago. "I know that, darling. What about this pretty little armband?"

Neteyam lowers his gaze, sucking his lower lip in and chewing on the soft flesh. "It's right there, Nungie."

Ao'nung gazes at him fondly, searching his face for what he's feeling. "You're a little shy today, sweetheart."

Neteyam coughs quietly and glances towards the professor, but she doesn't seem to notice them. "You keep calling me pretty names."

Ao'nung follows the motion with his eyes as Neteyam's delicate fingers fiddle with his darling little ring nervously and leans a breath closer, lips almost touching Neteyam's ear.  "How could I not call such a pretty boy pretty names?"

Neteyam whines in protest and pulls away, curling in on himself. His eyes dart around the lecture hall, but it's large enough that the many students are spread out widely and nobody seems to notice their antics.

"Nung, please."

Ao'nung raises a brow in amusement. "What is it, Tey?"

Neteyam swallows thickly and crosses his legs, wrapping his arms around himself. Ao'nung lowers his gaze to the shorter male's lap and smirks, eyes twinkling in a mixture of amusement and mischief. The surfer's hand settles heavily over the bare skin of Neteyam's thigh; he's wearing pale linen shorts and a baggy black T-shirt.  His white sneakers are a little dusty and his socks have little dots on them. Ao'nung takes in all that he is and squeezing his thigh gently, hand slipping higher.

Neteyam tenses, tugging his bag into his lap, over Ao'nung's hand, but he doesn't seem to pull away. "We're being rude. Nobody wants to see this."

"Nobody's watching," Ao'nung whispers lovingly, though not without a hint of arousal. 

"I want to go home—" Neteyam chokes out, breathing heavily, pupils wide. His eyes continue darting around the room as Ao'nung slips his pink under the fabric of his pantleg. 

The surfer's grin is so wide, he's showing off all his pearly whites. "There's only twenty minutes left, Neteyam. That's not a lot, I'm sure you can easily sit through that."

Neteyam exhales slowly, shuffling his feet; his jaw twitches as he chews on the skin inside his mouth, lost in thought and feeling for a moment before he heaves a dejected sigh and hangs his head, braids falling forward over his shoulders, hiding his face. Ao'nung pouts, immediately missing the sight of Neteyam's flat, wide nose and his darling little milkyway of freckles. He shifts his hand just a little higher, above the fabric of Neteyam's shorts, and grasps him at the highest point of his thigh, fingers easily dipping in the bend of his leg, so close yet so far from the spot burning with fire — Neteyam's breath hitches. 

Ao'nung massages his flesh slowly, leaning back casually and pretending to pay close attention to the petite woman in noisy heels as she walks around the front of the class, pointing to various things on the slides she's projected onto the enormous white sheet rolled down over the blackboard. 

Neteyam closes his eyes tightly, jaw clenched as Ao'nung continues touching him — so dirty and yet do not enough. 

"Please," Neteyam whispers out.

Ao'nung barely hears him despite sitting so close. The surfer doesn't turn to look at his lover, only hums, shaking his head. "We're staying, baby. This is important."

Neteyam curses under his breath and covers his mouth, hunched forward, hugging his backpack. His toes curl uncomfortably in his shoes and he wonders if he should just drag Ao'nung straight to the forests nearby or go home — but both Lo'ak and Tsireya are home and they'd chat first. 

Knowing Ao'nung, he'd do it on purpose, too. 

Lately, Neteyam finds himself tortured with barely there touches, worked up until he feels ready go burst — Ao'nung is there, smirking down at him and ghosting his hands over spots so close to where Neteyam needs him, but never quite there, not until the last moment. 

Neteyam could cry with relief each time Ao'nung would finally wrap a hand around his burning heat, or slip a finger inside him after a good hour of just tracing patterns along his skin. 

But now they're in public and Neteyam is burning with both shame and desire. 

Neteyam doesn't feel like listening — he swiftly stuffs his notebooks into his bag and stands, chair making some noise that turns heads. It's because of these curious eyes that Ao'nung doesn't just pull him back down to sit. He doesn't want to humiliate Neteyam. That's not what this is about. 

Neteyam exists the hall hurriedly and enters the closest bathroom, locking himself in the cleanest looking stall. He leans against the door and places a hand over his wildly beating heart. 

Someone else enters. 

"Tey, are you in here?" Ao'nung calls out carefully. "Are you hurt?"

Neteyam sighs out through his nose and unlocks the door, stepping out. He doesn't quite meet Ao'nung's eyes, only shakes his head slowly. 

Ao'nung steps up to him and cups his cheeks with both hands, tilting his head up. "Was it too much?"

Neteyam's lips part before he relaxes and simply steps close, resting his head on Ao'nung's shoulder, an arm wrapped loosely around his waist, the other clutching his bag.

"I just can't wait anymore." 

Ao'nung grins, ghosting his lips over Neteyam's cheek lightly before pressing a sweet kiss on the heated skin. "I'm right here."

Neteyam scrunches his nose and swats at Ao'nung's side, his voice low and quiet. "This is a public toilet, you're not getting anything here. It's gross and smells like bleach." 

Ao'nung pulls back and laces their fingers. "Let's go home then, darling." 

Neteyam scoffs. "Okay, honey." 

 

 

Notes:

I came across an argument that men being attracted to petite women are basically pedophiles and I just wanna say as a short 22 y.o. woman who isn't even 50kgs that shit lowkey hurted my feelings

Anyway i can already smell the comments🤣

Chapter 66: Secret Place

Summary:

to honor chapter 66 I'm gonna be a devil

Notes:

I didn't recycle any of my prev smut scenes I request praise
This did take 5 days tho and it's almost 5k words too :")

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They never make it home; Neteyam drags Ao'nung to the forest wordlessly, ignoring his questions and not even bothering to respond to any of his comments before pulling him to the security of their secret spot - they rarely visit it, but it was their favourite place to hang out during their first year, as friends with raging crushes on each other that everyone was aware of except them.

Now, it is their third year of university, and Neteyam feels they've neglected this place a bit too much.

The forest begins at the edge of the park between their shared apartment and the university. It isn't supposed to be there - not in the middle of the city, but it was planted there before their birth to preserve the natural plant life of the area in a modern world. There's a mixture of pine trees, deep, dark green, and willows, weeping gently in the wind. And there are plants native to the Pandoran continent, refusing to strive elsewhere but here, in a world of new mixed with old. Native and foreign mingling pleasantly. 

There's a wild array of autumn flowers dancing along the tender spikes of pale green grass and path worn by two boys, leading them to a clearing.

They used to bring a blanket here or a tent — sometimes they'd stumble here after a dorm party (Neteyam mostly sober) to talk about everything and anything at all. Ao'nung would listen to Neteyam swoon about Korean celebrities whose names he never attempted to pronounce or grumble about the nonsense Lo'ak managed to get into again. (Like the time he got caught shaving the side of his head and their parents didn't let him do the other side.) 

Ao'nung would grumble about his roommates (usually the brothers who shared a bed in a very weird way that he'd never want to remember, but here he is, for some reason, lost in his memories) and about the annoyance that is having to be a student with homework. Neteyam would giggle, voice deep and raspy, because of course, he always had double the work Ao'nung complained about. It never annoyed him.

They'd talk about Kiri and Rotxo and make bets on how long it'd take for them to let Spider join their relationship (3 years). Neteyam lost.

Neteyam would bring a little speaker and they'd listen to his favourite playlist quietly (and Ao'nung would secretly shazam every song). He still remembers In the Kitchen by Mree. It was the first time Neteyam ever told him about his inner struggles — it was also the first time Neteyam clearly told him that he liked men. Ao'nung had suspected it, but before coming to university, Neteyem never painted his nails or wore crop tops either. 

Their secret spot holds a lot of memories. 

This is the same place Neteyam had confessed to his very annoying watermelon allergy. Somehow, it's one of Ao'nung's favourite memories, because Neteyam had been sipping on a watermelon flavoured Somersby. Ao'nung got him got him a watermelon necklace the next day and Neteyam had sworn at him while laughing. He wore it until it broke. Ao'nung suspects that he still has it somewhere.

Nobody else ever comes here, only the birds chirp and even the mosquitoes hunt elsewhere, which Ao'nung is grateful for, because he's allergic to them beyond what is normal.

"What are we doing here, hm, baby?" Ao'nung grins, crowding Neteyam against a large tree, chest to chest. 

The sun is just beginning to set, gentle gleams peeking through the trees.

Neteyam smirks, tilting his head to expose his throat, receiving a sweet kiss.

He simpers playfully. "Each other."

"Oh, really?" Ao'nung cackles, caging Neteyam with his arms; Neteyam plays along, pretending he can't escape the surfer, though he's very much aware that he could overpower Ao'nung, no matter what. Ao'nung is fully aware too. He hasn't thought about it lately, but Neteyam is a trained soldier and somehow, that makes his femininity even more mesmerising. He's so slender, yet muscular all the same - Ao'nung loses himself in staring and Neteyam waits patiently, letting him.

Ao'nung leans back a breath to watch his own hands roam along Neteyam's body, disappearing beneath the baggy black T-shirt, tugging it up to reveal a toned stomach and a cheeky little piercing twinkling in the setting sun, silver this time, just a stone. 

"We've never done this here," Ao'nung mumbles to himself, lifting Neteyam's top and lightly pressing his thumbs to the archer's nipple. 

Neteyam inhales shakily, leaning his head back against the tree, eye half lidded. "We haven't."

"Ever thought about piercing these?" Ao'nung hums, pressing firmer, coaxing sweet sounds. 

Neteyam shudders, whining quietly as Ao'nung touches what might even be his most sensitive spot. He pinches the little buds and then switches to rubbing soft circles around the tiny bumps along the deep brown skin.

"Hah?" 

Ao'nung shakes his head with an amused chuckle. He presses his hips against Neteyam's, watching the way those pale brown eyes roll back as Neteyam takes a shuddery breath, nothing but Ao'nung's touches on his mind. Again, Ao'nung reached down to grasp at a single thigh, other hand still rubbing at a perked nipple slowly, switching the pattern every few seconds. He'd pinch, then rub circles before simply pressing down on the bud; Neteyam would buck his hips each time Ao'nung would do that.

Neteyam chokes on his own need.

He's dropped his bag beside them long ago, now grasping at Ao'nung's upper arms helplessly as he falls apart - he doesn't want to take the lead, feels no need to tease. He wants Ao'nung to pick him apart bit by bit. His pulse quickens the longer Ao'nung plays with his chest and his shorts do little to hide his desires.

The very last rays of sun disappear, the only source of light a lonely lamp a few metres away, circled by bugs unable to resist reflex - Neteyam is drawn to Ao'nung much the same. His very core aches to be enveloped in his warm light.

Ao'nung drops a kiss to the side of Neteyam's head before trailing his lips along his head, nipping at his ear and mouthing at his jaw, hot breath fanning across Neteyam's skin. Neteyam tilts his head further, letting Ao'nung lick at his pulsing veins, sucking lightly, tugging his T-shirt aside, making sure Neteyam can still cover the mark if he so wishes.

Neteyam croaks his lover's name, mind a dishevelled mess of desires. His nails rake along the surfer's tan arms, raising goosebumps. 

Ao'nung grinds their hips together, smiling against Neteyam's throat as he continues peppering the tender skin with kisses, he knows drive Neteyam wild; they almost tickle. Every touch ignites Neteyam; he feels electrified, and sparks fly behind his eyelids as he clenches his eyes shut, rolling his hips back against Ao'nung's - it is unlikely anyone would find them here, but being out in the open drives Neteyam wild. He submits to desires out here that he'd otherwise keep caged up in the security of their room.

Ao'nung adores him for it.

Just as he adores Neteyam for many things; like his desire for romance and the way it spices him up.

Ao'nung is intoxicated by all that is Neteyam; sometimes, having him feels like a dream, like he'll wake up any moment and realise he's still at his dorm a year ago, loving him secretly and giving him his lecture notes when Neteyam couldn't attend. 

But Neteyam has already given himself fully to Ao'nung just as he's received Ao'nung to be his own all those years ago, before they ever kissed.

Neteyam's breath cuts of in a held back moan as Ao'nung presses their clothed heats together, hips rolling against his lover's, the only one he's ever desired to hold like this. Neteyam hugs him around the shoulders and steals tender kisses; he lifts a leg and hooks it around Ao'nung's waist. The surfer reaches down and grabs his thigh, squeezing and helping him keep it there. 

Neteyam is flushed with desire, his entire body feels like it's on fire but especially between his legs. He's leaking precum against his clothes, staining them uncomfortably.

Ao'nung's skin prickles with goosebumps as he experiences the thickened air around them, eyes glazed over with desire. "Let me have you, my love."

Neteyam whimpers, glossy-eyed and gone. Stuck in his own head, blinded by the pleasure. "I'm yours, Ao'nung. Please, have me—"

Ao'nung swallows his whimpers with heated kisses, lips swollen and moist with spit. They press against each other and Neteyam meets the wild force behind those intoxicating kisses, nails digging into the tanned skin of the back of Ao'nung's throat, pulling him closer. 

Ao'nung nudges Neteyam's face to the side to nip at his throat, higher up, tempted to mark him where he cannot hide it. Pale blue eyes peek up at Neteyam and the archer blinks slowly, muted and nods once. Ao'nung doesn't waste time, lips parting. His warm tongue runs over a vein along the dark throat before he bites down, teeth sinking into the soft flesh, but never drawing blood. He sucks, and Neteyam still has a leg hooked around his waist, but his other, still on the ground, feels ready to give in. 

He holds on to Ao'nung for support with such strength, it's almost like his life depends on it.

Ao'nung, in turn, capture his lips again with his own, nibbling on his lower lip, tugging on the soft, swollen flesh. Neteyam whimpers again, more turned on that he's ever been before. He aches for more. It isn't a mere want, a desire, it's a need, like the air he breathes. 

Ao'nung gives him what he longs for. His hands slip under the crumpled T-shirt, tugging it up and off over Neteyam's head, tousling his braids. The beads adorning them clink together like windchimes for a moment, and Ao’nung pauses to listen to the sound. 

Neteyam clenches his thighs helplessly, toes curling, bunching his socks up in his shoes. His breathing comes in raged puffs, mingling with Ao'nung's coarse moans as their hips roll together, hard, burning desires rubbing against each other, separated by the annoyance that is the fabric in their way, separating them.

Neteyam tugs off Ao'nung's top eagerly and sets both feet on the ground, nudging on Ao'nung's bare chest until the surfer steps back once. Neteyam has no desire to let the tree scratch up his back — he only wants pleasure. He kisses Ao'nung's chin sweetly, teeth grazing along his throat before he steadily lowers to his knees in front of his fiancé. He opens his mouth and slots it over the bulge in Ao'nung's pants, blowing hot air onto the already heated skin. 

Ao'nung bites back a deep growl, resting a hand atop Neteyam's head, his other one coming to cover his eyes, rubbing his lids as he tries to keep from bucking his hips — ultimately, he fails, but Neteyam welcomes him, basks in the lack of self-control that he alone is responsible for.

Dark fingers pop open the button and nudges the zipper down before tugging Ao'nung's pants down just enough to reveal him — Neteyam swallows thickly, already feeling the heavy weight of Ao'nung's cock on his tongue despite not even touching it. 

With fingers tangling in his braids, Neteyam grabs his base and guides his tip to his mouth, flicking his tongue over the bead of desire already forming, threatening to drip to the forest floor. Ao'nung shudders; Neteyam doesn't often feel the desire to take him into his mouth, but when he does, Ao'nung loses his mind and all sense of rationality. His hips shift restlessly and his breath hitches. 

Slowly, Neteyam parts his lips and, grasping Ao'nung's hips, takes most of the surfer in his mouth, slick with spit and sinks down until he feels like he cannot take more. He bobs his head, cheeks flushed with desires he cannot contain — he needs to be touched himself, but he refuses to allow himself that satisfaction. He throbs, so neglected — somehow, it edges him on and drives him mad.

Neteyam wants to focus on Ao'nung, on the taste he leaves along his taste buds and the weight of his erection along his tongue as he licks a stripe from base to tip, tongue ghosting over a prominent vein. Ao'nung's balls hang low; Neteyam teases him, fondling him with one hand slowly. 

Ao'nung shudders — he doesn't moan much, but he's breathing heavily through his mouth, holding Neteyam's hair like a lifeline. It tugs on the archer's scalp just how he loves it.

The same hand tugs Neteyam up to stand; he does so without protest, curious to see what Ao'nung plans to do. He steals a kiss, tasting his own salt on Neteyam's tongue before slipping his hand down the front of Neteyam's shorts. He pauses, tilting his head and pulling back enough to look Neteyam in the eyes, a dark brow raised.

Neteyam tucks a stray curl behind Ao'nung's ear, smirking. His fingertips ghost along high cheekbones. "What is it, Nung?"

Ao'nung huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, resting his forehead on Neteyam's shoulder in disbelief. "You came to class without underwear?"

Shrugging, Neteyam pretends to be innocent, glancing up to the sky and humming nonchalantly. "Maybe."

Ao'nung wraps his hand around Neteyam's length suddenly, giving it a quick squeeze; Neteyam's smirk is replaced by a sharp intake of air as his knees tremble from the sudden pleasure erupting in tingles along his stomach. Ao'nung feels him clench his thighs, trying to trap his hand, but he cannot give Neteyam was he wants just yet. His grip loosens until he's barely holding on; he rubs Neteyam's tip with his thumb, spreading the wetness around and smearing it down his length before his fingers slip lower to fondle his balls, feeling the delicate skin against his palm.

Neteyam shudders, head lolling back helplessly. Then, Ao'nung lets his member go completely and tugs his shorts down until the waistband stretches uncomfortably over Neteyam's thighs.

"Maybe, huh?" Ao'nung chuckles, tracing patterns into Neteyam's skin just above his cock, feeling the soft tuffs of hair there. He twirls them around his fingers, watching in amusement as Neteyam stares down at his hand, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "What is it, Tey?"

Neteyam swallows, shaking his head.

"Are you feeling shy?" Ao'nung coos gently, pressing a sweet kiss to those reddened cheeks, one on each. He gets a soft noise of agreement in return. "What makes you shy, baby?"

"I didn't shave," Neteyam admits, biting the inside of his cheek.

Ao'nung holds his hips in a loose grip, tracing his hipbones. "You know that doesn't bother me, Tey."

Neteyam seems to relax at his words, nodding slowly. "Okay."

Ao'nung smiles down at him and slowly guides him to turn around, showing his back. Neteyam leans against the tree, holding on for balance; his stomach twists in anticipation. Ao'nung kisses his shoulder, pushing his hair out of the way to mouth along the back of his throat. He presses his chest along Neteyam's exposed back and smiles against his skin. Neteyam shivers as Ao'nung's erection presses against his ass, smearing it with precum. He pushed back into the touch, but Ao'nung grabs his waist and keeps him still.

Lately, they've been experimenting, so, with a voice twinkling in amusement, Ao'nung whispers in Neteyam's ear. "Be a good boy now, Tey, and keep still for me. Can you do that, baby?"

"Okay-" Neteyam breathes out, grasping at the tree helplessly as Ao'nung slowly trails his hands to his backside, slipping his fingers between the cheeks and prodding at his hole; he's gentle, because he is yet to use lube or spit, and doesn't attempt to push his finger inside, merely pressing against the tight ring of muscle. "I can do that, Nungie."

There's something sweet about the nickname that rolls easily from Neteyam's tongue; it fills Ao'nung with a need to protect, to hold close and to shower the smaller male with love. So, he does that. Ao'nung circles the opening with a single fingertip, feeling it twitch, tightening further before relaxing. Neteyam's thighs clench again, a telltale sign that he's getting worked up, longing for more.

Ao'nung pulls his hand away, gripping himself and spreading Neteyam with his other hand; he rubs his tip against Neteyam's entrance gently, smearing it with his wetness. Neteyam moans, voice breaking off; he shuffles around, tugging his shorts down further, stepping out of one leg to be able to spread his legs just a little more.

Ao'nung kisses the back of his neck. "You're doing great, baby. Keep still for me."

Neteyam's brain short circuits; he wants to find a name to call Ao'nung, but nothing could describe the extent of his desires. His skin erupts in wild tingles, and he whimpers again, struggling to keep quiet despite barely being touched. It's almost like the night at the festival, only this time he is completely sober and feels things with much more clarity. He feels the wet heat of Ao'nung rubbing against his twitching hole and wants to badly to push back against him, to feel even more of him, but the desire to please is there, too, so he whines and stays rock still, his only movement the trembling in his legs as he tenses the muscles.

Ao'nung taps at his side lightly. "Relax baby."

Neteyam exhales, leaning further against the tree; in clenching his thighs, he clenched the muscles of his ass as well, pushing Ao'nung away without meaning to. "Please, Nung."

"What would you like?" Ao'nung murmurs in his ear, rocking against him lazily.

"Anything, Nung. I need more than this." He switches to his native tongue for the first time in years; at first Ao'nung has no idea what he said, their dialects differing greatly, before the words click and he chuckles, biting on Neteyam's shoulder as he stands behind him, spreading his ass with both hands.

Then, Ao'nung listens to him, wrapping an arm around his chest and pulling him back against him. He coos back softly, in his own version of na'vi, feeling that this makes their situation even more tender, more vulnerable. "I got you, my heart. I'm right here. I'll give you whatever you need, sweet love of mine."

Neteyam babbles something to himself. "Can I move?"

"Of course, baby. Do whatever you want." 

Neteyam reaches back between them, grasping Ao'nung's member in his hand and guiding him, lining him up against his hole.

Ao'nung gently touches his wrist, stopping him. "You'll get hurt, let me prepare you."

"I already did that," Neteyam mumbles, ducking his head.

Ao'nung's eyebrows raise in surprise. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "When?"

"In the shower before we left for class."

The surfer lets his wrist go, holding him by the hip again, thumb tracing patterns over the slender body, rubbing along his hipbone lovingly. "In that case, go ahead baby. I'm all yours."

Neteyam's lip twitch into a small smile before he bites his lower lip, focusing on guiding Ao'nung just where he wants him to be. Ao'nung's shaft breaches him, the tip popping in. Neteyam twitches at the feeling, a familiar burn taking over his senses, allowing a blush to bloom along his freckled cheeks, making him redden further. He feels like he's on fire, thighs smeared with Ao'nung's precum. The surfer is so turned on, they don't even need any lube (because Neteyam has some hiding in his bag).

Neteyam shudders as he's split open, not caring about anything but the man behind him, bestowing him with the gift of intense pleasure.

Ao'ung buries himself to the hilt slowly and stills for a moment, taking a long, shuddery breath. He hugs Neteyam close, one palm flat against his chest, the other over his stomach, feeling his belly-button piercing under his fingers. Like this, standing, Neteyam is tighter than Ao'nung has ever felt him be before. He grinds against the smaller male, barely pulling out, searching for his prostate. It is not hard to find, Ao'nung knows Neteyam's body better than his own even. He knows of all of Neteyam's favourite places to be kissed, touched. He knows the exact pace Neteyam likes to be fucked - he doesn't like going too fast, scared of being hurt, but going to slow makes him not feel anything. So Ao'nung settles for something in the middle.

He pulls out slowly, completely, because Neteyam absolutely loves it when he slips inside again as if they're just starting. It's dark, but Ao'nung can still see all of Neteyam from that one small lantern a little ways away. He removes his hand from Neteyam's chest and reaches down to finger him, humming in satsifaction when his fingers are met with no resistance. 

Neteyam whines low in his throat at the loss of Ao'nung's hard member inside him — he shifts his hips, thighs clenching and unclenching helplessly as Ao'nung slowly fingers him. 

Neteyam shudders, head falling back onto Ao'nung's shoulder; his body erupts in goosebumps and a thin, shiny layer of sweat decorates his skin, but he doesn't seem to even notice. 

Then, Ao'nung pulls his hands away, leaving Neteyam needy and empty, twitching around nothing as he scrunches his nose in desperation. "Ao'nung, please—" 

Ao'nung kisses along his shoulder, pulling his asscheeks apart and letting his tip bump against Neteyam's hole. The archer tenses, teeth sinking into his lower lip. Ao'nung, however, doesn't push in, he stays just a breath shy of letting his tip slip back inside Neteyam's body, intending very much to edge him on until he's a mess.

Neteyam moans, breathless and impatient; he tries to push back against Ao'nung, but the surfer grasps his hips and keeps him in place, barely touching. 

"Nung, don't tease me—" Neteyam whines out. "We can't spend too much time here."

Ao'nung hums, letting his tip finally slip inside. Neteyam's breath hitches, entire body tensing before he sags in relief, slumping back against Ao'nung's chest. The surfer snakes a hand around Neteyam's waist, resting his palm against his stomach, thumb tracing patterns over the dark-skinned male's piercing, flicking it lightly. Neteyam shudders, panting quielty into the darkness of night. 

His body feels wrecked with fire, thighs shaking and core pulsing in arousal. Ao'nung bottoms out suddenly, slamming right into Neteyam's sweet spot, sending the archer into a hazy headspace. It suddenly no longer matters that they are barely hidden behind some trees and bushes. Everyone around Neteyam stops existing, only Ao'nung remains. 

Neteyam melts against Ao'nung; Ao'nung, rocking his hips slowly, not pulling back enough to stop rubbing against Neteyam's prostate, flicks his tongue over the dark skin of the short male's shoulder before trailing his lips higher, pressing a kiss to the back of his throat as Neteyam's head lols forward. 

One hand remains on Neteyam's stomach, but Ao'nung's other hand wraps around the archer and settles on his chest. He lightly traces a circle around a nipple again and then presses down just enough to make Neteyam's hips jerk forward with a helpless moan.

Ao'nung flicks his tongue over a vein along Neteyam's throat before closing his lips over the skin and sucking, hips picking up the pace. The hand on Neteyam's stomach slips lower until Ao'nung's long fingers wrap around the archer's erection, pumping him slowly, building up the pleasure coiling in Neteyam's core.

A strangled moan escapes Neteyam's lips. 

Ao'nung mouths at the archer's throat as he strokes Neteyam's dripping member, feeling beads of precum smear his fingers. 

Ao'nung's cock drags along Neteyam's walls, moist and hot; like a flame, it ignites Neteyam's body, stretching him open deliciously and sending tingles up his spine. Neteyam's never been this turned on before. 

Neteyam doesn't bother holding back his moans, voice deep and raspy. His calves cramp, but he only urges Ao'nung to move faster, touch him faster with desperate pleas. 

Ao'nung complies, fucking into him in time with his hand, squeezing gently at Neteyam nipple. 

The stimulation is too much, Neteyam whimpers loudly, voice slipping a few octaves higher as his orgasm washes over his; clenching around Ao'nung repeatedly as his hips twitch, perfectly out of his control — he shuts his eyes tightly and Ao'nung continues jerking him off until the very last drop of cum leaks from him, smearing the forest floors messily. 

It's lewd; when Neteyam looks down through half lidded eyes, exhausted but pleasantly aching as Ao'nung slams into him with a frantic pace, he spots the evidence of his pleasure along the leaves. 

He whimpers again, legs shaking. Barely can he keep himself upright, but Ao'nung finally stops touching him, holding him up by the hips. 

Neteyam's upper body falls forward, bent at the waist. He clutches at the tree in front of him for balance and support, feeling Ao'nung's cock dragging inside him, erratic and losing all sense of rhythm. 

"In me—" Neteyam whispers, voice cracking from the dryness of his throat. "Cum in me, Ao'nung, please." 

"Shit—" the surfer can only hiss out through his teeth as he watches the way Neteyam's back arches. 

He rocks into that beautiful body a last few times and stills, pressing in to the hilt. Little schockwaves of pleasure wash over him as he spurts ropes of cum into Neteyam's body. His hips give a few helpless jerks, and before he can stop cumming, he pulls out back just enough that the last of his orgasm coats Neteyam just inside his rim, threatening to simply spill out before Ao'nung could even pull out. 

Neteyam shudders, hanging his head, braids falling in front of his flushed cheeks. 

Ao'nung leans over him, kissing his shoulder before straightening up and sighing softly, licking his lips. His eyes are half lidded, and when Neteyam peaks back over his shoulder, he catches Ao'nung looking at their joint bodies.

He pulls out, Neteyam inhales sharply, face burning in embarrassment as Ao'nung's release immediately starts to drip out, running along his balls before disappearing along the leaves, mixing with Neteyam's on the forest floor. 

Ao'nung breathes in deeply, lightly massaging Neteyam’s asscheeks before helping the archer stand upright, holding him close for a few moments. 

Neteyam basks in the affection, leaning against Ao'nung comfortably. 

A cold wind raises goosebumps along the surfer's skin. "We should head home."

"Yeah," Neteyam murmurs, blissed out. He doesn't show signs of moving. He feels his thighs smeared with cum and pouts, face scrunching. He shifts uncomfortably. 

Ao'nung huffs out a tender laugh and shakes his head. "Let's get you a little cleaned up, baby. Come on. Careful now, wouldn't want to step on that mess." 

Ao'nung guides him to a safe spot by the trees and leans down to rummage through his bag for some tissues; when he finds them, he hands some to a still panting Neteyam, who takes them and hurriedly wipes himself down so he can get dressed. Ao'nung waits for Neteyam before he himself tugs his clothes back into place. 

"You good to go, darling?" He asks gently, nudging his shoulder against Neteyam's. 

Neteyam nods, swallowing. He reaches for his own bag, but Ao'nung takes it from his easily, already regaining his energy. He slings the bag over his shoulder and holds his hand out for Neteyam to take. 

"Cat got your tongue?" He teases lightly, walking slowly to accommodate Neteyam, who seems to be struggling to get his legs to work properly. 

Neteyam scrunches his nose before pouting. He sticks his tongue out at Ao'nung, then coughs, blinking in surprise as he's inhaled something — likely a floating piece of pollen or dust. 

"That's your karma, baby boy— I mean baby— ah shit."

Neteyam pauses, staring up at Ao'nung before his lips part into a silly grin. "Whose karma?" 

Ao'nung uses his free hand to rub at his face, trying to hide his flushed cheeks. "Not a word about this—"

"You're starting to sound like my dad." Neteyam grins wider, raising a dark brow in amusement at Ao'nung's misery. 

"Ah, baby, anything but that. We're the same age." Ao'nung clears his throat and they eventually make it to the apartment, pausing by the entrance. 

Neteyam tilts his head, smiling sweetly as he watches Ao'nung fish for their keys. 

"I love you," he chirps suddenly, fiddling with his fingers.

Ao'nung beams, search forgotten in favour of kissing Neteyam's soft lips, wrapping the smaller male in his arms. "I love you too, Tey." 

Neteyam melts against him, hugging Ao'nung tight. In his warm embrace, Neteyam feels the safest he's ever been.

Notes:

Bonding experience with my sister that I see once every 4 years: sitting scattered on the sofa me writing smut on phone her doing whatever on laptop while kpop plays on speaker (she has no idea wtf kpop is)

btw I have tumblr now
https://www.tumblr.com/ealirel-txepvi <3

side note
Had a flirty flirty convo with this gorgeous gorgeous black man with pretty pretty twists in his hair a few nights ago now that I'm a single lady (put your hands up up) and he kept calling me baby so now Ao'nung calls Tey baby. I dont make the rules
Shshshshsh his code name is lion King I suspect I will talk about him again

Chapter 67: A Surprise Visit

Summary:

Lion King: Goodnight gorgeous. Message me tomorrow ❤️

Me, absolutely swooning: ehskskdjf

---

Weeks pass by fairly fast — Ao'nung ends up inviting Kaey and Naìtvì to their wedding, to which the two of them actually tear up and wrap him in long, safe hugs, cooing words of praise to the younger man, letting him know that they're proud of him.

Both of them, but especially Kaey, had been aware of Ao'nung's struggle in accepting his own sexuality and tried, subtly, to encourage the blossoming of acceptance in him. 

Ao'nung appreciates them.

 

Lo'ak and Tsireya are yet to announce their engagement to extended family, not wanting to take away any attention from the wedding despite both Ao'nung and Neteyam reassuring them that they do not mind if they announce the engagement. 

Tuktirey had danced a circle around both Neteyam and Ao'nung when she found out that she will be a flower girl — something not entirely traditional in either of their cultures.

She had been blabbering to her dolls in the safety of her room one weekend when Neteyam and Lo'ak were visiting home, unaware that anyone could hear her. Not that she had been trying to be discreet or anything, but she didn't want to pressure her big brother into letting her bring non-na'vi traditions into the wedding.

Tuktirey had sat in the middle of her awfully colourful little room (the shade of blue of the walls always gave Jake a headache, so he avoids spending time in there).

"I wish I could wear a pretty pink dress to the wedding and throw rice," she had commented, lifting a near life-sized doll onto a play chair. She had spent a moment carefully adjusting the doll's twists into two low ponytails, addig bows at the end. "And I want my hair like this but it's too short." 

Neteyam had paused outside her door, hearing her sweet voice as she absent-mindendly rubbed her thumb along the dolls hard, rich brown cheek.

Tuktirey had sat back to admire her work, satisfied that her doll was now even prettier. "If I could be a flower girl, I would want to have a matching dress with Tsireya."

And that is how Tsireya had ended up being a flowergirl too, along with Kiri. 

Mo'at had not been entirely impressed by this unfamiliar notion, but she didn't say anything against it — but Neteyam knows his grandmother well, he could tell just from the slight twitch of her nose ans the squint of her eye that she didn't find the idea of flower girls all too important.

And why was Neteyam talking to Mo'at in person when she lives hours away? 

The moment Ao'nung and Neteyam had set the date for the wedding, grandmother Mo'at packed her little suitcase and demanded that Tsu'tey drove her to see her eldest grandson that very day.

A knock had sounded on their door, startling Jake awake, who had been dozing on the sofa with Tuktirey doddling along his arm as she sat with her legs tucked underneath herself on the floor.

Ao'nung was visiting the Sully's, since he too had been present when, that morning, they announced that they'd be getting married on the first day of winter — a very warm day, most likely.

Jake raises a brow at the sudden noise, squinting — he does a poor job at hiding a yawn, causing Tuktirey to giggle before her own lips stretch wide and her head tilts back as she too yawns.

"I'll get it," Lo'ak sighs, picking himself up from the carpet he'd been sprawled out on lazily and sauntering to the door, yawning and rubbing at his head, jostling his braids, much like everyone else in the room. 

He opens the door to find Mo'at standing there with an exhausted Tsu'tey behind her, carrying her bags.

Lo'ak's eyebrows shoot up in surprise before a pleased smile blossoms on his face and he bounces slightly on his feet. "Grandmother! What brings you here?" 

Mo'at beams at him, curling a little shorter than her youngest grandson in her old age. "Hello, child. Is your brother home?"

Lo'ak, who had been perked up until that tittle question, lets his shoulders slump and bites back the pain of his grandmother's though well meaning, but easily dismissive question. 

"Yeah," he hums, chest burning inside as his heart squeezes painfully. He steps to the side and lets Mo'at enter the house. "He's home."

Tsu'tey trails in after her, nodding to Lo'ak as he sets down the things Mo'at decided to bring along. "Hey, kid. How have you been?"

Lo'ak cracks a smile, watching Mo'at coo down at Tuktirey as she shows off the newest ballet moves she's learnt. Tsu'tey doesn't miss the longing in Lo'ak's eyes and makes a mental note to inform Sylwanin, so she can talk about it with Mo'at — it's not his place to meddle, even if he is very close with Mo'at. 

"I'm good," Lo'ak hums, closing the door once his uncle and all the bags are inside. "Why did you guys come to visit?"

Tsu'tey shrugs, crossing his arms and grinning down at his youngest nephew. "Your grandmother has refused to tell me her reasons. She dragged me out of my home and gave me ten minutes to get ready."

"What's all these bags for?" Lo'ak asks, head tilting to the side as he eyes the pink, flowerpatterned little suitcase. "Are you staying overnight?"

Tsu'tey shrugs, opening his mouth to respond, Jake suddenly appears, whisking him away, chattering excitedly.

Lo'ak purses his lips wordlessly and saunters over to the sofa; he flops down, grabbing his phone — Jake is busy chatting with Mo'at and Tsu'tey, and Tuktirey has been sent on a quest to locate Ao'nung and Neteyam, and bring them to Mo'at. Once she does, it seems everyone forgets about him, so Lo'ak decides to slip away completely to his room. 

Ao'nung watches him disappear upstairs with a faint frown — he doesn't really know what's wrong, hasn't seen Lo'ak interact with anyone, so all he can do is assume that the youngest Sully boy is simply in a bad mood.

He knows better, though. 

And that thought hurts.

Notes:

Me, a korean major: my classmate moved to America after high school.
Mum, condescending: I wonder why she didn't move to Korea if its so great there. Sensible people don't want to go there.
Me: 🤡

Chapter 68: I'm a Big Brother, Too.

Summary:

My grandma is absolutely mesmerised by colour changing lipsticks, so I'm bringing her that new space one from Essence to the heart hospital she's at :3
And some heart shaped bonbons because her heart surgery went well

Notes:

Omg guys tysm for 1k kudos im shook

---

Ao'nung wanders up the staircase silently, pausing outside Lo'ak's door. He hesitates, before knocking quietly (even knocking annoys Lo'ak, especially when he is sleeping). 

"Yeah?" Still, the youngest Sully boy calls out, voice soft. 

Ao'nung clears his throat, hand resting on the doorknob lightly. "Can I come in?" 

There's a heavy sigh that Ao'nung can hear even through the closed door before Lo'ak's voice rings out an affirmation. Ao'nung opens the door and pauses, not locating Lo'ak anywhere. 

He furrows his brows in confusion. "Lo'ak?" 

Suddenly, a head pops up from between the mess of bedsheets and pillows. Ao'nung actually doubles over, covering his mouth to stifle a noise between a coo and a giggle (a manly one of course). Lo'ak looks at him, absolutely bewildered. 

"What?"

Ao'nung waves his hands around. "Sorry, sorry. You just look ridiculously tiny over there. "

Lo'ak's lower lip just out in a pout. "I'm not tiny."

"Course you're not. Only compared to me," Ao'nung chuckles quietly and walls over, sitting on the edge of Lo'ak's bed. "What's up?"

Lo'ak stuffs some pillows under his head and huffs. "I'm tired." 

Ao'nung tilts his head, reaching out and patting at the sheets until he locates Lo'ak's calf. He pats the spot reassuringly. "Did you come up here to nap?"

Now, it's Lo'ak's turn to hesitate. "It's stupid."

Ao'nung flops down beside him casually, tugging a pillow from under Lo'ak's head, making the younger male protest weakly and tug the covers up until only his eyes are visible. 

"Tell me," Ao'nung says, lying on his side, knees drawn up as he faces Lo'ak. "It's not stupid."

"It is, though," Lo'ak insists with another huff.

"Stop huffing, baby Sully. What's bothering you?"

Lo'ak pauses, lips pursed before he swallows and tucks the covers under his chin, revealing his upset little face. "I know it's you guys' big day and all soon, but I would have liked if grandmother actually spoke a little with me, too."

"That's not stupid—"

"Yeah, but it is. You only get married once—"

"Lo'ak, listen to me." Ao'nung sits up, unintentionally making Lo'ak curl in on himself. "Do you think they'll pay more attention to you on your own wedding?"

Lo'ak falls silent, heart dropping. He averts his gaze, and when he speaks next, his voice is a mere, hollow whisper. "Probably not." 

Ao'nung nods, exhaling deeply. "Exactly. It's not stupid that you want your family to pay attention to you."

"It's unfair," Lo'ak sniffs, hiding his face in his covers. "I saw grandmother pay attention to Tuk. Why can't they ever care about me?"

Ao'nung places a hand atop the hair poking out from under the covers. "She cares about you. I just don't think they realise that you don't get the same amount of attention as everyone else." 

Lo'ak sniffles, curling up and Ao'nung feels his heart break at the sound of a shaky inhale. 

"Hey—" he whispers gently, trying to pry the covers away, but Lo'ak clings to them, refusing to reveal himself. "Hey, Lo'ak. Come on, lil guy, come here." 

Ao'nung easily gathers him in his arms, covers and all, dragging Lo'ak to curl up in his lap. 

"It's okay," Ao'nung mumbles tenderly. His hand sneaks under the covers over Lo'ak's head, fingers tangling in his braids. Slowly, he massages Lo'ak's scalp, feeling the thickness of his hair where his braids grew out a little. "I'm here. I care about you."

"You—" Lo'ak's breath hitches, teary eyes peaking out. "You care about me?" 

Ao'nung gazes down at him, eyes soft. "Of course I care. We're brothers now." 

Lo'ak struggles to swallow the lump in his throat. His face, red and wet, scrunches up (Ao'nung recognises this same habit in Neteyam).

"We're brothers?" He asks, voice frail. 

"Of course we are." Ao'nung holds him close, humming softly to him, wrapping his arms tightly around the lighter male's trembling form. "You're my cute little lil' bro now."

Lo'ak openly clings to him, hiding his face in Ao'nung's neck, breath uneven as he sobs against Ao'nung's skin. Ao'nung rocks him side to side, hand caressing the back of Lo'ak's head. 

The door opens, and curious pale brown eyes peek inside; they widen in realisation before the rest of the young girl bursts into the room, decorated in new jewellery that no doubt Mo'at had brought over. 

"Lo'ak!" She flings herself over the bed onto the two men, knocking them back. "Why are you crying?" 

"I'm not—" Lo'ak protests, wiping roughly at his eyes.

"Who's crying?" A voice rings out, and footsteps sound. "Lo'ak? Why are you crying, baby boy?"

"Daddy—" Tuktirey shrieks out and sits up, tugging the covers from Lo'ak roughly in mild panic, unsure how to handle seeing her older brother cry. "Daddy, Lo'ak is sad! Can you kiss it better?" 

Jake watches the pile of kids (Lo'ak is forever going to be a kid in his eyes, as will Ao'nung) for a moment before walking into the room, closing the door behind him. He settles on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on Lo'ak's calf, massaging gently exactly as Ao'nung had done, but so different all the same. 

Tuktirey's own eyes well up and she sniffles loudly, resting her reddened cheek along Lo'ak's upper arm, hugging it to herself. "Why is he sad?"

"I don't know, baby girl." Jake sighs softly. "What's the matter, kiddo?"

Jake looks to Ao'nung, who only shrugs, continuing to pat the youngest Sully boy's head. Lo'ak only lets out a soft whine, refusing to say anything. Tuktirey, bordering on wailing, turns to Jake. "Daddy! Make him happy again. I don't like this." 

"Come on, baby girl. Let's get you to sa'nok, okay? I'll come back to help him, okay?" Jake gathers Tuktirey into his arms, standing and walking out of the room, peppering her teary cheeks with kisses.

Lo'ak sighs in relief, burying himself further in Ao'nung's arms. "I don't want to tell him." 

Ao'nung nods, pressing his own kiss on Lo'ak's forehead. "Maybe you should. He could help." 

Lo'ak shakes his head hurriedly, heart pounding in his chest. "He can't make my family like me—"

"Lo'ak, what are you talking about?" 

Lo'ak freezes, and Ao’nung can feel his heart going insane as they're chest to chest. He tightens his hold, pale blue eyes landing on the aged face of Neytiri’s mother. 

Mo'at shuffles her feet for a moment, looking uncharacteristically nervous. She holds a small something in her boney fingers.

There's silence in the room for a moment. 

Jake steps back inside, jaw tense. He glances at Mo'at and furrows his brows. Something isn't quite right, he can't tell. "What's wrong, gran?"

"Lo'ak, can you repeat what you just said, please?" Mo'at asks softly, shaking her head at Jake. She walks in and sits down next to Ao'nung and Lo'ak, placing a hand on her grandson's back.  "I'm not sure I heard you well, darling." 

Lo'ak wants to retort that he's not her darling, never has been, but he bites his tongue. That would only make things worse. So, he settles on staying hidden in Ao'nung's neck, panting quielty into the surfer's skin. Ao'nung ignores how uncomfortable Lo'ak's wet, hot breaths make him feel. 

"Can I tell them?" He asks eventually, once both Jake and Mo'at are sitting there, rubbing Lo'ak's back. 

Lo'ak tenses for a moment before relaxing. "Okay."

And so, Ao'nung does. As gently as he can manage, even if this topic of conversation makes his blood boil, he tells Jake and Mo'at what he's noticed and what Lo'ak's told him about their family dynamics. 

Mo'at listens, face tense, eyes wide and a newfound understanding swirls along her irises, mingling with pain much like coffee twirls around milk.

Jake doesn't react, listening. He chews on his lower lip absent-mindendly, hand stroking along his smallest son's back. 

Lo'ak feels a little lighter now that they know, but he's scared it will only bring him more pain.

He doesn't want to be hurt anymore.

Notes:

✨️ Random headcannons for texting ✨️
Emojis I think the characters use:
Neytiri: ❤️🔥💋🌼
Jake: 🦧🐒🐵❤️
Neteyam: 💗🥰 :) :( :P
Kiri: ✨️🤪💀💕
Lo'ak:🤡🤷🏿🩷🤮☹️🥹🤬🖕🏿
Ao'nung:💙🪼🦋🫠😶🌫️😏
Tsireya: 🌸💓🥰🫨♡

Chapter 69: Sweet Sons

Summary:

Sorry for vanishing y'all 🫠

Got stuck in an elevator at 3.45 in the morning the other day w/ 5 others 🙃
Went to a kpop party hoping to dance w/ some cute Korean guy but this one was pretty flat and saw only middle aged weirdos so :///

Went into a tobacco store to get some booze w/ a friend and some asian man(probs chinese) looked at me all wide-eyed and went "You're so beautiful" and my ass fully saluted him while walking backwards. I blame Jake for this 😭😭🤣🤣

Lion King 🦁 is ghosting me cause I don't wanna s3xt him🤣😭

Anyway
Enjoy ❤️

---

Eventually, Ao'nung has to let go of Lo'ak, since Jake Sully is very intent on cuddling up with his youngest son after all the things revealed about Lo'ak's feelings. 

Jake is mildly bewildered that it's always Ao'nung and his family sorting their shit out. Ronal had been so vocal about Neteyam being overworked all those months ago, and now Ao'nung had made it his own mission to take Lo'ak under his wing and care for him in the same way Neteyam would.

"Lo'ak, hey," Jake whispers, gently nudging the dark-skinned male. Lo'ak huffs out a distressed little breath and promptly hides his face in Ao'nung's neck. "Come on, kiddo. Look at me, please. We're not mad."

Mo'at is solemn, brows furrowed and lips pursed. The expression ages her, Ao'nung thinks. She's sitting on the edge of the bed, hands laced together, resting on her boney knees. She's still holding something. It seems brown, but the surfer cannot really see what it is. Especially not with Lo'ak's head occasionally blocking his vision.

Ao'nung can still hear a bit of Tuktirey's distress as Neytiri tries to calm her down somewhere a few rooms over — and Ao'nung thinks that he's never seen the youngest Sully ever be so distressed in his life. Tuktirey's face would be in a permanent smile or a cheeky grin every time he saw her.

When Lo'ak doesn't respond, Jake returns to rubbing his back gently as the youngest in the room slowly relaxes, nuzzling against Ao'nung's warm chest.

Sitting so close to Jake Sully makes Ao'nung realise just how similar he is to Lo'ak. Their side profile is almost identical, and yet somehow, with their racial differences, they're also so... Well, different. Jake's nose is pointed, meanwhile Lo'ak's is flat and wide-bridged, much like Ao'nung's own. And a lot like Mo'at's. 

Ao'nung snaps lit of it, noticing Neteyam in the door way, brows furrowed and so adorably puzzled. He doesn't say anything, only chews on his lower lip, bunny teeth worrying the tender skin.

Mo'at cracks a weak smile at ther oldest grandson, but doesn't explain anythint, deep in thought. 

Jake doesn't notice Neteyam — he's silent and doesn't move, standing still in the doorway. Ao'nung can tell he's frozen from the anxiety bubbling in his chest — he can tell from the way Neteyam's thigh muscles keep clenching and unclenching helplessly. 

Lo'ak flinches a bit — Jake is not ready to give up. He needs to talk about this with Lo'ak before it is somehow forgotten in the speedy mess that is their lives. 

It is Ao'nung who, with a sigh, gently begins prying Lo'ak off of himself. Lo'ak pouts, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and eyes red from his tears; he sniffles and allows himself to be sat up, Ao'nung's hands guiding him. Jake immediately wraps an arm around his shoulder and tugs him close. Lo'ak tucks himself into Jake's side and avoids looking at his grandmother as though his life depends on it. Mo'at doesn't fight it — in all her years of living, she's never really thought about such a thing being possible. 

She wonders if her role in making Lo'ak feel unseen, unheard, unloved, had been big. Ao'nung had not blamed anyone when explaining and avoided using names. She has to admit that being there for Lo'ak had become harder after they moved so far. But this? This she never saw coming. 

A child — no matter that he's a grown man now — feeling unloved in a family so tightly knit with affection. Mo'at knows for a fact that Neytiri and Sylwanin never felt a difference in the way they are loved by their parents — and now only Mo'at. She blinks her eyes quickly and turns to watch Jake coo softly to Lo'ak. 

Ao'nung suddenly feels very out of place. He shoots a cornered look to Neteyam, who allows a small, amused smile, though worry still tugs at his core. Ao'nung is trapped by the wall, no way to leave the bed without jostling anyone. So he stays, cringing internally. To his utter surprise, Neteyam uses sign language to communicate with him.

'You are family now.' He signs carefully, concentrating on his hands rather than looking at Ao'nung (who nearly bites his fist in a weak attempt to stop his cooing. Thankfully, he manages to stay silent). 'Do not feel awkward.' 

Ao'nung gives a subtle little nod and tries to relax. It's hard and it doesn't work, but he does feel a little less weird about being in a bed with Lo'ak, his soon to be father-in-law and Mo'at, the grandmother. Ao'nung wonders if such a thing as a grandmother-in-law exists.

Neteyam sighs softly, alerting the family of his presence. Lo'ak perks up, smiling weakly and Jake grimaces (Ao'nung believes that was a smile-attempt, too) at his oldest. Mo'at nods her acknowledgement.

He closes the door when he slips inside and settles down on Jake's other side, taking his father's hand in his own, eyes raking over Lo'ak's dishevelled features.

Finally, with a heavy, disappointed exhale, Jake hugs them both close. "We will need to have a family meeting soon."

"No—" Lo'ak protests. "It's fine."

Jake shushes him and presses a kiss to his forehead. "Baby boy, we made you feel unloved, we have to talk about it. How else would we fix it?"

Ao'nung watches Neteyam's throat bob with an anxious swallow, then again, when the lump doesn't go away.

"I don't— that's—" Lo'ak stutters out, trying to squirm away. 

Neteyam glances at Mo'at's hands — he seems to know what she's hiding and then motions to Lo'ak with his eyes, a silent conversation passing between them. Ao'nung hopes it's about something that will help finally break the tension, because he feels suffocated by it at this point.

Mo'at nods to herself and reaches a hand over to Lo'ak, catching his attention. He flinches again and Ao'nung wonders if someone has ever been violent with him or if it's just how he reacts when scared by situations. He then promptly decides he cannot handle knowing anything else and just dissociates as the people around him try to sort through their feelings. And anyway, Mo'at has decided to speak to Lo'ak in their mother tongue, and Ao’nung struggles with understanding that dialect. 

But then his breath hitches in his throat when he notices just what Mo'at had been holding. And Lo'ak is no better — he seems breathless, meanwhile both Neteyam and Jake seems incredibly proud. 

And then Ao'nung feels his heart shatter.

"Are you sure that's for me—" Lo'ak blurts out before he can stop himself and cringes, hand hesitating mid-air. 

Mo'at's teeth clink as she suddenly closes her mouth, eyes wide in disbelief, and now, Ao'nung can recognise the absolute anguish this new information about Lo'ak's feelings are making her feel.

"I didn't mean that—" Lo'ak panics, voice trembling and he's stuttering on every word. "I was just... I didn't... That's not—"

Neteyam closes his eyes for a moment and takes a calming breath, he stands and shuffles to kneel in front of his brother by the bed. He takes both of Lo'ak's hands in his and squeezes reassuringly. "It's for you, little mighty warrior. Who else? Grandfather had carved it just for you all those years ago."

Grandfather.

Ao'nung wonders, when he passed and if Neteyam and Lo'ak knew him, or can even remember him. 

It is Jake who ends up taking the choker from Mo'at's trembling hands. Ao'nung is the one to move Lo'ak's hair from his neck as Jake carefully works on tying the vowen masterpiece around Lo'ak's slender throat. 

It is huge, covering the entire length of the dark skin. The beads are tiny, thousands of them, all handmade and painted different colours. The shades of browns, teals, and reds swirls together delicately, highlighting each other. The neckpiece is so large, made with ingredients Ao'nung has never seen, native to the forests of the Pandoran continent. There's bones, and some of the longer beads have patterns carved into them. Ao'nung realises they're letters. 

They form words. 

Words not meant for Ao'nung, so after reading the first few, he averts his gaze. 

Eytukan had created a song, a prayer for Lo'ak and Mo'at had been the one to deliver it. 

Ao'nung doesn't believe in giving gifts to mend hurt caused by actions — but he has to accept that Mo'at had likely come here just to bring it and give it to Lo'ak despite not knowing of the the youngest boy's inner pain.

Neteyam leans up, pressing a kiss to Lo'ak's cheek, followed right after by Jake. The actions make Lo'ak giggle as he tries to shrink away from the affection, only to be met with the same kind from his grandmother. 

There's a silent promise in the air; they will be discussing all of this at a later date, with everyone present.

For now, it seems the people in the room had taken to showering Lo'ak in affection and it breaks Ao'nung's heart just how unused to it all he looks. It is only Neteyam who is familiar to Lo'ak, acting like this, like there is nobody more precious in the entire universe than his baby brother. 

Ao'nung keeps a hand on Lo'ak's shoulder, massaging gently as Jake and Mo'at fuss over him, trying to cheer him up. 

But Lo'ak is too mesmerised by the neckpiece. It hangs low, covering his collarbone — it is traditional and looks like it belongs in a museum. He keeps fiddling with it, lips parted slightly in wander.

Mo'at suggests wearing it for the wedding — Ao'nung already knows it won't be his wedding that Lo'ak will be wearing it to, but his own. 

Still a gentle little secret. 

Notes:

Sorry for any typos. Wrote this on my phone 📱

Chapter 70: The Itsy Bitsy

Summary:

So at first I had no excuse for the delay but then my mum got pretty sick and then I had to sort through my closet and drawers that I haven't touched since high-school so :')

Anyway, enjoy

---

Lo'ak refuses to take the necklace off and also refuses to have a conversation about his feelings with their extended family — things go back to normal. Mostly. They mainly just calm down. Little Tuktirey clings to Lo'ak, and when Lo'ak isn't there, she carries Payakan around and steals Jake or Neytiri’s phone to text Lo'ak, but she's awful at spelling for now (and Neytiri suspects at least a light case of dyslexia for her).

So, Lo'ak isn't even surprised when he gets a text in the middle of one of his classes from his sister through their mother's phone.

Queen Sa'nok: Lo'ak i miss yyo pleas comee homeee i wana play tulkun rider whit yyo

And then a wild slam of emojis is sent with the next text.

Mo'at stays a few days to help out around the house. She doesn't play favourites with her grandchildren, but for the seven days she's visiting, she only cooks Lo'ak's favourite food and on occasion Tuktirey's adored biscuits. Luckily for Neteyam, most of Lo'ak's favourite foods are his favourite foods too, so he doesn't feel left out — besides, he's spent most his life adored by their entire family. 

Ao'nung avoids visiting for a few days, getting more and more embarrassed that he's somehow managed to get caught in the middle of the Sully's family drama. When he thinks about it, it was really not his place to tell them what Lo'ak has been going through, and yet he did. Because Lo'ak asked. It must have looked so weird for Jake and Mo'at for him to be the one to explain Lo'ak's feelings.

Though, Mo'at had come to thank him afterwards, impressed by how close-knit Ao'nung and Lo'ak had become. She'd been grateful for someone other than Neteyam to be there for the youngest Sully boy. 

Ao'nung had never blushed so hard. 

And then Mo'at had presented him with a thin little bracelet that she made during her day's visiting when Ao'nung came to say goodbye. A single shell and a feather of sorts. Ao'nung deffinitely didn't cry. Not at all. Not even a single drop of water left his eyes (that Neteyam definitely hadn't been there to wipe off with gentle little fingertips and a light kiss to his moist cheek right in front of Mo'at).

But the week had been eventful for Lo'ak, quite a bit. Mo'at had convinced Jake to drive her to the unversity, so when Lo'ak didn't have classes, she'd hang around with him, taking him on little shopping sprees (and lightly disagreeing with his baggy T-shirt era, as he called it when she tried to buy him nice dress shirts so he wouldn't steal Jake's anymore). It didn't work. Lo'ak was stubborn at times, and he wasn't about to give up his comfortable, messy little style for beauty. He'd never be caught with unkept hair though, so, Mo'at slept a couple days at their apartment, sucessfully banishing Ao'nung and Neteyam to the living room, since she refused to take Tsireya's beauty sleep. Women have to stick together, Mo'at had joked when Neteyam pouted at the arrangement. She rebraided his hair a total of two times. First, Lo'ak had been styled with the most beautiful twists (that Ao'nung has ever seen). A few days later, Mo'at had styled his hair into ghana braids, ending in a tight bun in the middle of the back of his head. Lo'ak had requested that Neteyam be given the same hairstyle (he prostested a little at first given the texture of his hair, but Mo'at had reassured him that he would fine, his hair is strong enough).

Tsireya had insisted on taking a million photos in the park of the two of them, bringing her cute little canon camera before Ao'nung gently reminded her to include Mo'at as well. 

Ao'nung has to admit that she has a talent for taking beautiful photographs (he isn't sure why he never realised this, since she had won the only single competition she ever entered, winning first place in the country with a wonderful shot of morning dew misted wheat, covered lightly in spiderweb).

And then, Mo'at insists on doing Ao'nung's hair as well, before Tsireya's. Ao'nung has never had his entire hair braided, usually keeping some of it loose in a curly, fluffy bun. 

"You look omaticayan now," Neteyam had beamed, running his fingers along a thin braid gently. "Except for your watercolour eyes."

Ao'nung bit back a laugh. "You cheesy bastard, that line is from a song."

Neteyam had shrugged. "You make my heart sing."

The surfer would never admit the high-pitched whine came from him.

 

---

 

Ao'nung notices things.

So, he notices the way Lo'ak's eyes are a little brighter and the downturned nature of his lips is a little less downturned now that he spends his afternoons giggling with Mo'at. She's extremely funny, and has a tendency to prank people. Lo'ak definitely got some of his shennaningans from her, Ao'nung realises. 

It becomes clear to him that if one person hadn't meant to hurt Lo'ak, it was his grandmother. First, because Tuktirey is very good at stealing the spotlight, and second, because Lo'ak is the middle child. Ao'nung wants to have three children just to prove that the middle child syndrome is bullshit. His own parents never forgot about Tsireya just because Srufke was born.

Tsireya had taken Neteyam hostage (after Ao'nung had thrown a fit that he was not going with her), dragging him along to get his nails professionally painted with her, so Mo'at had been left alone in the apartment with Ao'nung and Lo'ak.

Ao'nung had been working on an assignment; he had to take a sample from a plant and analyse it. The univesity had provided all things he could need for that, but that doesn't mean it was all too enjoyable - rather tedious instead, having to write so much about a little photo. Ao'nung had decided to analyse Lo'ak's strawberries (that Mo'at had swooned over).

All was calm, until it wasn't.

There was a comfortable quit in the apartment, broken by Lo'ak's shriek.

"No! Get it away from me!" 

"It is small, do not be scared, Lo'ak."

"Nooo-"

Ao'nung winces, covering his ears. He turns around, trying to see the kitchen from his spot on the sofa, laptop in his lap. Mo'at's back is the only thing visible to him in the doorway of the room.

"My son," Mo'at chides, voice amused. "It is harmless. Look."

"I don't wanna look!" Lo'ak yelps and a cabinet door slams as he shuffles back, knocking it closed with the back of his head accidentally. Luckily, his bun cushions it. "Grandma, no. Don't bring it closer!"

"Lo'ak, this is the smaller spider you could possibly find here."

Ao'nung snorts. Of course. Lo'ak is being terrorised by a spider. Fair enough. Ao'nung wouldn't want to touch them either. He doesn't mind looking at them though. He decides to stay in the living room, pretending to be oblivious to the shennaningans going on behind his back. But he keeps listening.

"I don't wanna touch it!" Lo'ak whines, louder. He shuffles back as far as he can, but he cannot escape, because Mo'at is unintentionally blocking the doorway. Lo'ak had discovered the spider in the fridge, chilling on the few strawberries he's harvested. He immediately called for Mo'at's help in removing it, knowing she is not scared by anything smaller than her fingernails. unless poisonous, which was not the case of the tiny little, dazed and chilled creature dozing in the middle of her warm palm.

"I am not asking you to touch it," Mo'at sighs, lips twitching up in amusement. "Why all the dramatics, child? In the forest, there are much bigger ones. Never did those bother you. City life makes you soft."

Lo'ak reels back, offended. He places a hand on his chest dramatically, feigning heartache. "It does not! I can grow my own plants now."

"So why do you cry like a child at the sight of a spider on your berries?" Mo'at steps closer, holding the spider to the side so she doesn't bring it nearer to Lo'ak. "It is as much part of nature as you are, young one."

"Young one?!" Lo'ak squeaks out, squirming away and bolting for the door.

Mo'at captures him gently with her free hand and Lo'ak doesn't really put up a fight, though he does eye the spider wearily. It's still slow and sluggish from spending who knows how long in the fridge. "You are young, are you not?"

"Alright, fine. But calling me that sounds weird." Lo'ak leans against the wall once Mo'at lets him go and crosses his arms, openly sulking.

Mo'at only hum at that. "Open the door for me so I can take it outside."

Lo'ak doesn't hesitate, rushing for the front door and unlocking it hurriedly, almost yanking it off its hinges as he pulls it open and jumps aside when Mo'at passes by, stepping outside and heading for the elevator. 

"Are you really taking it all the way outside?" Lo'ak calls after her, baffled.

Mo'at chuckles, glancing back at him. "Yes, I am. It deserves a chance."

Once she disappears, Ao'nung coughs lightly. "Wuss."

"Eggsqueeze me?!" Lo'ak gapes, lunging from him.

Ao'nung barely sets his laptop aside before he knocked on his back, Lo'ak flat on his chest, holding him down. "Who are you calling a wuss, fishy-boy?"

"Whoever says eggsqueeze me!" Ao'nung snorts, trying to free his captures wrists, but it's useless, Lo'ak is absolutely amazing at wrestling.

Lo'ak presses down on him, squishing him into the cushions, earning a helpless wiggle. "It sounds funny."

"No, it doesn't!" Ao'nung wheezes out a laugh, nose assaulted by Lo'ak's smell (which is near identical to Neteyam's). "Get off me, little guy."

Lo'ak hums, pretending to contemplate for a moment before shaking his head and simply lying down, cuddling up to Ao'nung. "Nah. I'm stealing you from Neteyam."

"Adding me to your collection, are you? Who's next, my mother?"

Lo'ak makes a small, amused noise. "Nah. I wouldn't do that. Might go for your dad, though."

Ao'nung raises a dark brow, putting a hand atop Lo'ak's head. "You like big guys making you feel small, or something?"

Lo'ak hums, jutting his lower lip out slightly in a pout. "Maybe. Big guys can take out all the spiders in the world and save me from them."

Ao'nung snorts loudly, wrapping Lo'ak in his arms and shuffling a bit to get comfortable. "You're one weird ass motherfucker."

"Never heard you swear this much in a single sentence before," Lo'ak says, voice muffled as his cheek gets squished on Ao'nung's shoulder.

"You bring out the worst in me, baby Sully."

"As if," Lo'ak scoffs. "You're pretty bad on your own."

Notes:

Might consider writing shorter chapters so I can be more frequent with the updates because summer is more busy since I'm fully at home 🏡 🙃

Chapter 71: Tuktuk and Teytey

Summary:

Been reading those 400-600k word marauders fanfics and they're really inspiring me to write this for so long too but I need more plot for that lmfao
Would anyone even want to read 200-300k more words of this?

---

"Can you have a bouquet at the wedding so you can throw it and I can catch it?"

"Tuk," Neteyam chides gently, sectioning a small piece of her hair off to braid it. "That has nothing to do with our own traditions."

He's sitting on the sofa with Tuktirey in front of him on the floor, fiddling with a mermaid Barbie as she sits in between his legs, back facing him. She wiggles around a little and pouts, trying to turn her head to look at him, but he keeps her head in place with one hand, chuckling. 

"Well, whose tradition is that then?" She fiddles around with the tail of the mermaid doll, making her swim in the air. 

Neteyam hums, tilting his head. His fingers begins working skillfully on Tuktirey's hair, forming thin braids. It doesn't take long to finish each individual braid, since her hair doesn't go beyond her chin braided. "England. Eighteen hundreds."

"Wow, you're like a dictionary, Teytey," she squeaks in delight, pretending to send the mermaid plummeting into the abyss, into a cave on the bottom of the ocean floor. She makes a whooshing sound with her mouth for good measure and pretends that her free hand is an evil octopus trying to capture the mermaid princess with dark magic and vicious jellyfish. "You're Wikipedia. It's your new middle name. Neteyam Wikipedia te SuliTsyeyk'itan."

"No, I'm not. And that wasn't even funnt." His head tilts back with a fond laugh. "I just got this exact question a few days ago so I looked it up."

"By who?" She asks, wiggling her fingers at the doll menacingly. Her nose scrunches up she mimicks whatever expression the seamonster would probably have before she switches it out to a terrified one, freeing the mermaid from the cage of her own fingers with exaggerated squeals. 

Neteyam ties the end of one of her little braids. "Her name is Jessica. She's my classmate." 

Tuktirey stills for a moment, doll hovering in the air before she clicks her tongue. "Can she come over to play Barbie with me?"

Neteyam's shoulders shake with barely concealed laughter. He loves visiting home during the weekend just to spend time with his little sister. "I don't think she'll want to."

"Is she your friend?" Tuktirey asks simply.

Neteyam thinks for a second. "Well, I'm not close enough with her to start texting. We just talk before class."

"What does she look like?" Tuktirey presses on. 

Neteyam snorts, playing around with her yet unbraided curls. "What's the sudden interest?"

"I'm recruiting bridesmaids," Tuktirey announces, chest puffing out proudly. 

Neteyam tickles her neck, making her shriek and scurry away, dropping the mermaid doll carelessly. Once far away enough, Tuktirey puffs her cheeks up and crosses her arms, glaring at Neteyam. She's clad in simple grey shorts with a doughnut pattern and a Mulan T-shirt that has a little comic of four different Mulans with the caption current moods. Her lips are dark-blue from the frozen blueberries she's stuffed herself with minutes before beginning her seaprincess adventures. 

Neteyam holds his hand out. "Come back here, McDonald clown, half your hair is still undone."

Tuktirey sticks her tongue out but crawls back to sit in front of Neteyam again anyway. "Why are you sad?"

Neteyam pauses, dark brows furrowing. His eyes glide to the white patches of skin on his sister's little hand and he shrugs, though she can't see it, too busy switching out her dolls top. "I'm not sad. What gave you that idea?"

"You look sad whenever I mention the wedding," she replies, lowering her voice. 

Neteyam's hands pause their work on her hair; he runs his tongue over his front teeth, mouth closed as he thinks.

Tuktirey turns around to face him, leaning her chubby little cheek on one of his legs. Neteyam switches to caressing her head, giving up on the braids for a moment. "I feel maybe a little too young to be married." 

"So why didn't you say no to Ao'nung then?" Tuktirey juts out her lower lip, peeking up at Neteyam curiously. "Tell him it's too soon."

Neteyam pauses, lips parting. "That would have hurt his feelings a lot, Tuktuk."

"You do want to marry him though, right?" She presses, lifting her head and peering into his soul with her large, pale eyes. "You didn't say yes just so you don't hurt his feeling, right?"

"Of course," Neteyam hurries to say, dispelling most of Tuktirey's worries with a kind smile. "I want to marry him."

"Good." Tuktirey perks up, eyes brightening victoriously. "I know what to do. Change the date for next year! Then, you can be married when you're a bit older."

Neteyam shakes his head with a chuckle. "You're so smart, Tuktuk."

"So, is that the only reason you're sad?" Tuktirey settles down enough that Neteyam can continue working on her hair, braiding the thin strands as quickly as possible before she loses her patience with him.

He pats her head gently and huffs out a small, annoyed breath. "I'm not sad, Tuk."

She scratches her chin and glances around the room, nearly making him drop a half-finished braid. She traces the vitiligo on her hand with the opposite fingers and wiggles about, crossing her legs. Neteyam has to lean forward a little now to reach her hair better.
"You know, I'm old enough now. You can tell me things, too."

Neteyam smiles, heart fluttering. She's definitely still too young for the whole story, but he'll indulge her anyway. "Okay. You got me there. Fine, I'll tell you."

She bounces victoriously. "Okay!"

He lowers his voice, pretending to be mysterious. "Will you promise to keep it a secret?"

Tuktirey beams, nodding quickly. She can't fully turn to face him, but she tries anyway, so Neteyam hurriedly finishes the braid, adding her favourite beads and ties it so she can plop down on the sofa next to him. Her large eyes are overflowing with curiosity. "I pinky promise! Nobody will know but me."

Neteyam takes her hand, smiling at the tiny little fingertips and funky, chipped nailpolish that adorns her. She's chosen a wild mix of neons and seems to have done it herself, the paint all sloppy as it dried. "So, you know how dad is off on a super secret mission again, right?"

Tuktirey nods, face full of concentration. She's trying her best to be super duper serious, sitting up straight and squeezing Neteyam's hand like how she'd seen Jake comfort Neytiri at times. "I know."

"I'm worried about him," Neteyam admits, staring at the colours of her nails absent-mindedly. 

Tuktirey wiggles her toes and swallows thickly. She may not show it much, but every time Jake has to leave somewhere, it scares her. "Me too. But daddy's strong."

"I know he is," Neteyam sighs out, suddenly appearing exhausted.

Tuktirey tilts her head, eyes searching his face - she can usually read him, despite her age. She's wise beyond her years from all the moving, all the pain that comes from being military children. She's familiar with it all. And she's come to realise her pain hurts Neytiri and now she's a master of hiding it, too, like Neteyam. And sometimes like Lo'ak, though he's much more open about what he feels about Jake's sudden deployements.

"I can't help it," Neteyam grumbles, clearing his throat. He blinks quickly and looks away. "I hate it when he gets hurt. And I know it's not really our tradition, but I want to have my first dance with him."

Tuktirey perks up, shuffling closer and tucking herself into her big brother's side. "I'm sure daddy won't break his leg again."

"I hope so, too. But I hate not knowing when he'll be back home with us."

"Does it give you a tummy ache too?" She pouts, cheeks flushing as she admits it.

Neteyam smiles sadly, wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders and holding her close. "Yeah. Yeah, it does."

Notes:

Tuk supremacy

Chapter 72: Wisteria On The Walls

Summary:

Tw warning: mentions of death

Notes:

I wanted to make my chapters longer and ended up reaching 3.6k with this one💀
But, well, enjoy ♡
We'll meet someone new here

---

It is a weekend late-autumn.

Lo'ak's naked feet pad along the flooring as he makes his way down the hall of Tonowari’s house, escaping the pink walls of Tsireya's room in favour of slipping into her brother's.

He opens the door and stands there, arms hanging by his side, holding his breath. 

Ao'nung, having barely just woken up, lifts his head from the bed, covers tugged up to his nose and squints at the younger male. "What do you want, you charlatan?"

Lo'ak blinks, naked toes curling before he sucks in a sharp breath and somehow giggles at the same time as he snorts. "Do you even know what that word means?"

Ao'nung shrugs; he still has some trouble with more complex English words (and past simple continues or whatever it's called. He's sticking to simple past, thank you very much). "It's you."

"No, it's not," Lo'ak giggles again and shuffles into the room, throwing himself down over Ao'nung's form, making him huff loudly as Lo'ak's surprisingly heavy body blankets him, knocking his breath out. 

"Well, what is it, then?" Ao'nung raises a brow, rubbing at his forehead, noting the morning oils coating his tanned skin. 

"Well, it's someone who claims to have skills that they don't—"

"It's you." Ao'nung pats his head rather roughly, mushing up Lo'ak's hair, which, for some reason, is completely unbraided and fluffy, having been brushed out probably by Tsireya. "You look like a microphone and yet you aren't."

Lo'ak gapes. "What the fuck?"

"Seriously." Ao'nung shifts around. "How does your hair get so short when you leave it down?"

"Cause it's curly." Lo'ak shrugs, amusement quirking his lips up. He tugs a strand taut and grins. "Straightened it is midback length." 

Ao'nung nods his acknowledgement and settles down comfortably with the smaller male's weight pressing him into the mattress. "Well, mine is that long without being straight."

Lo'ak huffs out a soft noise of amusement, cheek squished as he rests his head on Ao'nung's beedsheet-covered chest contently. "Nothing about you is straight."

Ao'nung cackles quietly and shakes his head in disbelief. "Says you."

Lo'ak lets out a grunt as Ao'nung flips them over, squishing the smaller male. Winded, he breathes out. "I'm literally engaged to your sister."

"Yeah, when's that going to be public information?" Ao'nung relaxes his entire body, dead-weight trapping Lo'ak, who, after a few moments, gives up his wiggling and accepts his fait as the Metcayina's new body-pillow. "Come to think of it, why are you in my bed and not hers?"

Lo'ak whines when Ao'nung chomps down on his cheek, pulling back in disgust. "Bro, gross! Don't slobber all over me, man, what the hell?"

Ao'nung ignores him, continuing his shenanigans as if Lo'ak had never said a single word of protest. This time, he swiftly presses his mouth over Lo'ak's nose and blows. The reaction is immediate. Lo'ak yelps, hand freeing itself somehow and slapping the top of Ao'nung's head roughly, making him flinch back. 

"That hurt!" Lo'ak grumbles with a high-pitched whine, cradling his nose in offence. "Eywa, you're worse than Neteyam! He, at least doesn't do this."

"What does he do, then?" Ao'nung pretends to be a sweet little angel, smiling boyishly at Lo'ak. He doesn't roll off the smaller male, not even after receiving yet another hit to the head. It doesn't hurt, not really. 

Lo'ak thinks for a second. "The little asshole would offer to make me tea and then put salt in it instead of sugar."

"Genius," Ao'nung all but beams, elder brother pride seeping into his core. "Might have to use that one on Tsireya some day." 

Lo'ak snorts, rolling his eyes so hard, Ao'nung can tell it hurt at least a little, if the quick blinking that followed is anything to go by. "Unbelievable. You're a menace."

"And you're someone's little brother, so what does that say about you?" Ao'nung nudges Lo'ak's cheek with his nose. 

Lo'ak tenses. "If you lick me again—"

Ao'nung cackles loudly, barely avoiding another bash to the head by rolling off of Lo'ak.

"Anyway, I wanna try calling my dad, so be quiet."

Ao'nung snorts loudly, smacking him with the pillow he pulls from under the younger male's head. "Why don't you just leave my room, baby Sully?"

"Bed's really soft."

 

---

 

"I've been thinking."

"Oh, no."

It is the following weekend to Lo'ak's visit.

"Excuse me?" Ao'nung frowns, affronted. He stares at his sister in disbelief and she whistles a tune innocently, folding some of the laundry to put it away while Ao'nung works on hanging out a new, fresh and wet load onto their hanger.

Tsireya smiles sweetly, eyes crinkling at the corners. "It usually is not a good thing when you start thinking, brother."

Ao'nung huffs and swats at her with a wet shirt; she jumps out of the way with a startled laugh, almost dropping one of Ronal's blouses as she does so, barely avoiding tripping over a basket full of clean clothes. "Ao'nung!"

"Tsireya!" He mimicks with a scowl and a voice so high-pitches, Tsireya winces away and rubs at her ear, face pinched.

"You should be a voice actor," she mumbles, shaking her head bitterly, her curls bouncing about easily, freshly dried after wash day. Every turn of her head awakens a cloud smelling of vanilla and flowers. "Alright. What have you been thinking about?"

Ao'nung resist rolling his eyes and fiddles with a checked shirt that definitely belongs to Tonowari. Ao'nung thinks it's absolutely hideous. "I wanna take Neteyam on a date again. It's his birthday again soon and I want to surprise him."

"Okay," Tsireya smiles, clapping once. "That's wonderful. Where do you want to take him?"

Ao'nung visibly deflated. "Would it be weird to redo one of our previous dates? He really liked it when I took him to the forest in dad's car with the blankets and sweets."

"When you got him bubble tea?" Tsireya smirks.

"How do you know about that?" Ao'nung squints, a pair of pants at the ready to attack his sister were she to say anything he did not like or agree with.

Tsireya chuckles at him and raises her hands in surrender. "Stop that. You look like an evil old lady."

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not," Ao'nung hisses before frowning and reeling back, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at the childish way he was acting (Tsireya sniggers at him). "Anyway, why do you know that?"

A smile settles on Tsireya's kind features. She beams proudly and sticks her chin up, chest puffed out victoriously. "Neteyam spent the entire night swooning about it the next day. Over text. I still have them screenshotted. He was so cute. Brother, he said things like: Oh, Reya, he got me boba. Nobody ever gets me boba!"

Ao'nung stares, open mouthed.

"He added so many heart eye-emojis, too!" She giggles behind her hand, cheeks reddening as she remembers.

"He did not!" Ao'nung denies hotly, shaking his head. "He texts like an old man, he totally did not add actual emojis!"

Tsireya smirks, pale blue eyes twinkling in delight. "He totally did. And then he mentioned it a couple more times and I've never seen a man more in love. Except maybe you."

Ao'nung scoffs, annoyed at the world, for no real reason (except that he did not know Neteyam was so endeared by the tea). In his annoyance (he's going to buy Neteyam bubble tea every week now), Ao'nung places his hands on his hips and stares Tsireya down.

She blinks in surprise. "What do you want?"

"What's considered a romance flower?"

Tsireya blinks again, once, twice, before her face pinches in confusion. "Wisteria, why? What do you want?"

"What the heck is that?" He scrunches his nose in confusion, to which Tsireya merely sighs, rubbing at her forehead helplessly before slinking away to find their mother. They will be traveling back to the apartment soon, for their classes the next day.

 

---

 

Neteyam lifts his head, having been lounging on the sofa, at the sound of soft knocking on the front door. He sets his phone aside and ignores the twinge of anxiety at having surprise guests. He stands and cracks his back. "I'll get it."

He hears Neytiri say something from upstairs, but it's muffled by the sound of cars passing by and the shuffling of heavy wind seeping in through their opened windows.
Yawning, Neteyam shuffles to the door, taking a peak at himself in the mirror by the coat rack. He pushed his braids over his shoulders and rolls down the bunched up left sleeve of his T-shirt. He looks fine. There's some left over golden eyeliner smudges under his eyes from that morning (he had invited Kiri over, who was visiting home for the weekend the same as Neteyam, and together, they had experimented with colours. He's come to the conclusion that he looks really good with lighter shades of blues, or the vibrant ones, rather than the dark ones).

Just before Neteyam opens the door, Lo'ak saunters downstairs and disappears into the kitchen, mostly ready to head back to the apartment. He likely wants to pack some food, Neteyam thinks to himself fondly, knowing Lo'ak is rubbish at cooking. He could mess the simplest recipes up with clear instructions right in front of him. Like the time he put oil under the meat before setting down in the oven and nearly set everything on fire when the heated drops starting popping about inside. 

Lo'ak did not even go near an oven for a year after that before he finally felt comfortable to try grilling things. Even then, he'd always ask, each time, without fail, if he's supposed to put oil or water.

Neteyam sighs softly and touches the doorknob just as another soft knock sounds.

Neteyam expected to find a lot of things outside the door, but it wasn't what greeted him.

Never what greeted him.

Quaritch stands there next to a man Neteyam has never spoken to before. His head is adorned by that weird, claw-shaped scar. Neteyam has met him a couple of times during his training, but instead of his usual smug smirk, the man's face was carefully masked. The other man is either Prager or Fike, Neteyam always struggles telling them apart despite the two being far from identical.

"No," he whispers, hand hovering on the doorknob of the opened front door. He stands there, lips parted and eyes wide. Waves crash above his head, muting the world. He cannot hear a thing, not a word of what the two men are saying register in his brain.

He cannot feel anything except the cool weight of his father's dogtags in his palm. 

And then his world changes. 

Irreversibly so, as his foggy brain catches up on the words spoken to him.

Prager-Fike (Neteyam honestly doesn't care at this point) pats his shoulder and lowers his head in sympathy. "My condolences, kid."

Neteyam only shakes his head, lips parted, eyes blurred, not by tears, but by the way he immediately zones out to protect himself. He cannot cry. His unseeing gaze locks onto Quaritch's form and the man's brow twitches, almost nervously. His throat bobs in a swallow and his lips pale from the force he's pressing them together, anticipating — Quaritch is no stranger to these things. He knows many react differently to such news and expects Neteyam to lash out.

Neteyam, however, merely clears his throat, brown skin illuminated by the glorious sunset he faces. He glances at the setting sun and realises his father will not reside there somewhere, with the rest of the spirits that have long since returned to Eywa. Neteyam will have to look to the stars to see Jake.

"Why?"

Quaritch frowns. "Why what?"

"Why were you always trying to undermine him at work?" He spits out, voice filled to the brim with venomous hatred. At the world? At Quaritch? At the war? He does not know. But the ache in his cheststeadily  grows and sinks its blackened claws into his heart, squeezing cruelly like a disease, tinting his life with darkness yet a friend to him.

Quaritch's brows furrow, and he shares a look with the other soldier, somewhat solemn, but not really the face of someone feeling too sorry.

"What is going on?" A voice calls from inside the house and footsteps patter down the wooden stairs. "Neteyam, who is at the door?"

Neteyam bites the inside of his mouth, jaw tense as Neytiri peaks outside from behind him; he steps to the side and lets her exit the safety of the house. Unfortunately, she is not green as grass, and her face falls the moment her eyes land on the two soldiers decked in their most formal clothes before it hardens and her eyes lower to the dogtags in Neteyam's sky-facing palm. She places her hand over his lacing their fingers, but not trying to take the small pieces of metal from him.

"What happened to my husband?" Her blouse flutters in the wind like many, traditionally painted butterflies and her long, rich brown skirt trashes, revealing the small tear in his tights near her knee. She only wears that pair at home now. 

Quaritch sighs, and suddenly he looks decades older than he really is. "The treaty has been broken."

Neteyam knows what that treaty is — a piece of paper, fancy, more like parchment, corners adorned in gold. Signed with deep blue ink. 

Neytiri’s face hardens and her fingers squeeze tightly on Neteyam's hand. Her cheek twitches where she grits her teeth.

"By who?"

"The Northern Hemisphere." — one of the largest regions of Pandora.

Neteyam doesn't really know what that means for his family. He doesn't want to move again. There is too much to lose.

 

---

 

"Mr Ao'nung's dad?" Tuktirey shuffles her feet, clutching the bottom of her black little blouse with trembling hands. She peers up at the tattooed male and gulps, tapping the toes of her dress shoes together helplessly. Her clothing is all black. 

And so is everyone else's, who are not military personnel. 

Tonowari’s gaze softens.

The crowd around them breaks up into smaller sections. Ronal is with Neytiri, comforting her as best as she can, but it seems to do little to help. Sylwanin and Tsu'tey are with Mo'at — not Jake's family by blood, but by heart, indefinitely. Tommy sticks to Grace, Norm, Max, and Kiri. And with Kiri stands Spider, who all knew Jake well enough to know his habits and all his unique gestures. 

It's been a long few days. Neytiri is clad in her uniform, wearing no jewellery, only the dogtags around her neck, and the wedding ring with a secret message engraved on the inside. Unlike most days, today her skin is adorned by makeup. But it's only there to stop her tears, it's a barrier only, for she hates the feel of wet foundation on her cheeks. And anyway, her eyes ache already, reddened by grief. The pale brown shades are ignited by a craving from deep within in her. Revenge.

She had spent days upon days missing from home, roped into the meetings alongside her superiors. She knows things she isn't allowed to even tell her own sons, both with a history; completed training. 

The truth is her secret and it eats at the walls around her heart.

"Yes, Tuk?"

She swallows thickly and glances back towards the casket where both her brothers stand, red-eyed and solemn. Tonowari follows her gaze, waiting patiently for her to the find her words.

The casket is closed, per Neytiri’s request, though Jake had been deemed in conditions good enough for viewing. She wants her final memories of him to be his smiling, bright eyes, not a pale, resting face of cold, lifelessness. Irreversible.

The words don't come easy.

Tuktirey inhales loudly, tugging on her clothes helplessly. "Will you dance the first dance with Neteyam at the wedding?"

Tonowari furrows his brows, head tilting in confusion. "The first dance?"

Tuktirey puffs her cheeks up, frustrated with everything and everyone around her. She bites back the anger that consumes her. Nothing is Tonowari’s fault, so she will act accordingly. But it is hard to be kind when all she wants to do is scream. She tries to soften her voice, but it still sounds bitter even to her young ears. "Yes." 

Tonowari frowns. Children can be unpredictable, he is aware, having three of his own, but he never expected to be talking about wedding dances at a funeral. "I'm afraid I'm not following."

Tuktirey bursts into tears at that exact second, wailing loudly enough to draw most people's attention to her and Tonowari. "Neteyam wanted to dance with daddy like the brides and their dads but now he can't!" 

It is only by some sort of miracle that her brothers didn't hear her, lost a conversation of their own, but Tonowari’s eyes lock with, at first, Neytiri’s, nodding to her that everything is alright, he's with her daughter. Neytiri is exhausted. Tuk has cried day and night since the news. Tonowari catches Mo'at's gaze next, but he cannot read her. Tsu'tey, Tommy and Sylwanin nod to him. 

Tonowari has never really met Tommy; it strange to be looking at the face of a man lying in a casket, ready to be lowered under the layers of the Earth, soul and body alike returning to the Great Mother — Tonowari chides himself mentally. No, Jake has returned to Eywa. Similar, yet not the same.

"Will you dance with him?" Tuktirey hiccups, whining and pressing her fists into her eyes, rubbing roughly. 

Tonowari lowers to his knees in front of her, not because she is short, he's just extremely tall. He doesn't care if he dirties the fabric of his pants and focuses on the wailing kittle girl in front of him. He rests a hand on her tiny little shoulder and squeezes just the faintest bit in comfort. 

"Whatever you need me to do, I will do it," he says. "All you need to do, is ask for it. I will always be here for you and your family."

Neytiri covers her mouth with a trembling hand. Ronal's arm wraps around her back, rubbing at her arm. 

Tuktirey's cries quiet down somewhat and she sniffles, large eyes blinking wetly up at Tonowari (he's still taller than her like this as well). There's a hint of hope in her gaze that makes Tonowari’s heart squeeze painfully. "Really?"

Tuktirey spends a lot of time with Tonowari and Ronal, playing with their youngest daughter. She knows them both well.

He says it again, perhaps with different words, but he says it once more as he did months ago. And he means it. He always will. "You are like a child of my own. Your brothers feel like sons of my own, Tuktirey. I will never turn you down. I will protect you with everything that I can."

Tuktirey stares at him, breath hitching and eyes shining with pearl drops threatening to fall. But they don't, for the first time in almost two weeks. Full of hope, she peers into his eyes — right into his soul. "So you'll dance with him?"

"I will dance with him." He places a hand on her cheek, wiping away the tear tracks. He cradles her and leans closer to whisper in her ear. "I will dance with you on your special day, too."

Tuktirey's lower lip trembles before she lunges forward and presses a wet kiss to Tonowari’s cheek, startling hims somewhat, but he catches her in an embrace under the shades of the trees in the graveyard. 

A weeping willow sways above them gently, wisteria climbing up along its aged spine. 

Ao'nung stares at the scene, solemn, an arm wrapped loosely around his sister's trembling shoulders — distantly, in his own mind, he thinks he'll never buy Neteyam a wisteria, even if it blooms in love. 

His gaze searches for Neteyam's, but he's staring blankly ahead, jaw twitching as he chews on the inside of his lower lip, unseeing, shutting down. 

He seems calm now, but Ao'nung remembers the first night, all the broken plates, the vase, the door falling from its hinges and the shattered window. 

It is Lo'ak who meets Ao'nung's eyes. He slips away from Neteyam as Mo'at comes over and stands by Ao'nung and Tsireya instead. 

He wets his lips and swallows thickly. 

Tsireya steps closer and takes both his hands. "I am so terribly sorry, Lo'ak. I know nothing I say can help, but I want you to know that you will never be alone, we're all here for you."

"Through the good and the bad," Ao'nung murmurs, eyes half lidded and tired. He knew Jake well enough to feel the loss.

And it's empty and gaping in his chest. 

And then it is time to lower Jake to his forever resting place. There had been no speech made, to honour the tradition Jake Sully had married into, as he wanted.

His mother is the first to rest a small, white flower atop his resting place. 

"I never thought I would have to burry my son." Ao'nung overhears her saying to Mo'at at the wake, hours later.

Many had come along to the Sully's house, some in the living room, some in the kitchen, and some in the dining room.

He shudders, sharing a look with Tsireya. It is evident she had heard her too. 

"I—" the woman sighs, rubbing her forehead, sitting arm in arm with Mo'at. "I have already laid my husband to rest, so why must I now say goodbye to my son? How could the heavens be so cruel?" 

Ao'nung turns away, not wanting to hear what Mo'at would reply, knowing it would hurt too much. Tsireya's soft gasp proves his suspicions. He holds her close, further away now, so they cannot hear the two women talking.

They're not supposed to hear, anyway. 

Notes:

How we feeling?

Chapter 73: Chrysanthemum, Rose, and Lilies

Summary:

A lot of Ao'nung, a lot of Lo'ak, and some Neteyam. ♡

Notes:

I believe it is my proudest moment as a writer to see how many of you were saddened by Jake's passing, as many chapters before, he was considered somewhat of a villian in this story. ♡

I had planned for his death since the first time he was deployed and returned with a broken leg, and then subtly (barely there) implied it by having Tonowari act as somewhat of a father figure to the boys, outright calling them his family and caring for them.

Through Jake's passing, I want to explore the characters of the story experience the strongest, rawest forms of emotion. Grief, anger, agony, denial. I want to develop their relationships and views on life through a traumatic even, and for that I needed someone very significant to pass.

---

Death is sudden; death is cruel, for in death we suffer. 

Death is inevitable.  

It is painful and unpredictable. Perhaps, life is the same. In life, one may struggle to follow through, to complete the endless lists of things to do, but in death, the endless rivers of those chores, those must-to-do's come to a rest. But only for the one who is lain to rest.

Death is not cruel to he, who is embraced by it, but the ones he can no longer wrap his arms around. Death was kind to Jake Sully, but so, so cruel, senseless, unreasonable and tragic to his family, ripping away one of their pillars, perhaps the greatest support — the one who always worked to right his wrongs and bring light to those plagued by darkness on cold, rainy days.

Now wisteria sways above his tombstone, the petals smiling sadly, dancing their song of remembrance. Now, Ao'nung may never look at that flower as a flower of love — not in the same sense anyway. Wisteria is the love his love held, and still holds comfortably in his heart towards his father. 

Neteyam is the wisteria above Jake's resting place. Curling aling the spines of the willow, waltzing slowly to the rhythm of the curling winds. 

There is wisteria in Jake Sully, now and forever. If he truly rests with Eywa now, he had taken his life and lived it — and now She needs him, to keep growing that flower. To feed her willow. 

Ao'nung will never say it out loud, but the grave looks like a fairytale. There is a bench, for Jake's aging mother cannot stand too long. And shade of the Great Willow, to dry the visitor's brow come the summer days. 

But autumn had never been the symbol of life in the books he'd read. And in poems, autumn sprinkles grief with the falling leaves. 

Ao'nung has seen Neteyam's grief from the very first day he received the news of Jake's passing. If he himself could have healed from this without much pain, Neteyam's anguish heightened his own.

Of course, Neytiri, a respected woman with power, had made arrangements with the University (perhaps with money or perhaps with the threats of a woman widowed, Ao'nung will never know) to ensure that Neteyam and Lo'ak are given the proper time to adjust.

Jake had passed just before the first weeks of exam season.

The 18th of November. 

And he had passed not even a month before Neteyam's and Lo'ak's birthdays. Ao'nung wonders if he'd prepared anything. Perhaps it is much too soon.

Ao'nung worries for Neteyam, but his worry for Lo'ak is greater — Neteyam has grown better at navigating his own emotions after his break-down last year, ending up in the hospital. But Lo'ak, with all his unresolved issues, struggles harder. 

And Tuktirey attends therapy with Neytiri. 

On the day of the funeral, Ao'nung had seen a lot. He had seen it all, he thinks.

He'd seen everyone. 

There was a mother, who lost a son, and a wife, who lost a soulmate — there were friends, and friends of friends, and family, and friends of family. Solemn faces, hardened faces. Tears of dewy drops smeared under the sun, glistening on pale and dark cheeks alike. Some came closer, touching the casket, and the priest, as Camille's request, said a few words to remember Jake by. It wasn't a speech. Not really. He recited a line or two from the bible, spoke of angels and souls and the Great Great Heavens. 

That day, he saw a woman lose it all. She lost her greatest pillar of support — she's not alone. Whatever his soul was made of, his and hers are the same. 

Ao'nung saw the son, the son, and the daughter. He saw them cry and felt their pain. He saw the bravery on the smallest face. 

Distantly, Ao'nung realises that his brain is rumbling and he cannot follow his own train of thoughts anymore. 

He sighs, heavily, and rubs his forehead and grabs a sheet of paper and his favourite black ink pen. 

I saw a mother that day, with tears in her eyes, face taken over by an intense ache. I saw the ghost of the father somewhere, I think, waiting with his arms open to greet his son in the afterlife. I saw the brother, standing there, face solemn and with his exact face. It is so strange, to look at a dead man and see him alive. He lives on in the memory. He lives on in the DNA of his sons and his daughter. His blood is the blood running through his mother's veins. He's alive there. But he's gone. He's gone so far. I know of Eywa, and I know of the archangels, but I still feel that perhaps he is with the Great Mother, for he lost his life right there, where I was born. In that region of salty water and palm trees.

He heaves another sigh, tempted to cross it all out. He's being to cheesy. It is not his own father who died, so why does he feel so helplessly sad? He continues to write, coming back to reality enough to hear the shower a few doors down, pattering onto the tiles as Neteyam showers (and thank God for that, because Ao'nung would break apart into tiny sharps if Neteyam fell apart).

Ao'nung's knuckles whiten from the force he grips his pen, letters shaky and uneven, not his pearl handwriting. 

And that's okay.

He thinks of Neteyam.

Life does not comfort me. I always had a way to fix him, heal him when he broke. But I don't know how to help him now. He's a shell. He doesn't smile, he doesn't cry. It's like he's locked away his feelings and now the countdown begins until the bomb goes off.

I want to take away his pain and feel it for him, just so he doesn't have to.

 

---

 

Camille's favourite flower has always been the delicate yet glorious lily. Especially the plain whites or the ones with peachy patterns along the veins of the petals. 

Now, she lays them on the grave of her son. 

"I want you to know," she says softly, alone in the graveyard with her youngest grandson. "That he has always been very proud of you. He may not have told you often, if ever, but even I have only recently found out, that you can love a child fiercely, but if you never tell him, he might not know."

"Grandma—" Lo'ak whispers, throat raw and eyes red-rimmed, swollen. 

"I love you." She turns to him, cupping his cheeks with shaking, veiny, wrinkled hands. Plain, unpainted nails and many a golden rings. On one frail wrist, she wears a light pink rose quartz bracelet, on the other, white and green beads with a pendant of her favourite angel, Raphael. 

Lo'ak chokes on his own breath, her Armani Code perfume soothing him gently. She is home. She is his most important part. And yet she is the one who lives so far, they cannot meet. 

Most days, Camille needs a cane to walk and some days, her hands erupt in tremors she cannot control. She's somewhere between eighty and ninety years old, having her twins,  not naturally conceived, late. Her husband had passed twenty years ago. Lo'ak has never known any of his grandfathers, but Damin had at least lived long enough to know that he would be a grandfather, unlike Eytukan. Damin had not lived long enough to meet Neteyam. 

"Grandma—"

"Listen to me, Lo'ak." Camille chides him gently, caressing his cheeks, moving down slightly to massage the tension in his jaw, knowing it hurts him to grate his teeth unknowingly for so long. Her eyes drift to the lilies on the vases by the tombstone. Marble and swirly white. Many candles adorn the grave. As tradition calls, each person must light as many candles as the number of souls residing under the soils. Everyone had left a single candle. None of them lit except for two. The two visitors.

Lo'ak's lower lip trembles, insides of his mouth bitten bloody and raw. 

"You are loved. He loved you." Camille's eyes gloss over. "God knows why this has happened to us, but know this, my beautiful little dragonfly, you are loved. You're so loved. Never forget that."

Lo'ak whines, vision blurred by the tears refusing to fall. He's lost his voice somewhere along the anguish. 

Lo'ak had always been her little dragonfly, the large, stripey, blue ones that would often circle the roses in her garden. Neteyam is her butterfly, and Tuktirey is her bumblebee. 

Roses, also a flower symbolic of death. And she shall plant another one in her home to remember her son. It will be bright, and red. Red to symbolise the life Jake Sully had lived, and the lives he'd saved. Because he's saved many during his time as a soldier. 

It is unfortunate, that nobody had been there to save him from the bullet that had punctured his skin and flesh, exiting his body, stealing his one chance of survival from him — but the woman doing his autopsy had mentioned, that he would have been wheelchair bound had he survived. 

"Promise me, baby," she whispers wetly, teal eyeliner smearing under her eyes, mixing with the dots of mascara her aged eyes couldn't see that she had blinked into place that morning like little freckles, the tips of her eyelashes ghosting over her skin. "Promise me you will never forget that your father loved you more than anything."

"I know," he chokes out, teardrops slipping onto her fingers. 

Camille hums, a soft, sad smile quirking the corners of her lips up. "I know it hurts terribly, you beautiful soul. I know you feel so deeply, I know it aches deep in your heart. And that's okay. It's okay to feel, Lo'ak. If you want to scream, do it. If you want cry, do it. Grieve how you see fit to grieve."

Lo'ak has always felt deeply. 

His heart is made of poems composed by his soul. Beautiful, like a siren's song.

He cannot find his voice.

"You can be angry," she continues murmuring to him, hands never leaving his cheeks. "You can be so so angry. At him, at the world, at the man who took him from you. Whoever you want to be angry at. This too shall pass. It will pass, and the pain will be soothed. You will be alright. Keep him in your heart, but don't let the agony consume you."

"Okay," he breathes out, weak and nauseous. 

Camille nods slowly, gaze wandering across all his little freckles, his flat nose, and the large, pale brown eyes. "You are loved. You're so loved."

And he falls apart.

 

---

 

"Yes... Yeah, the reservation for... no, not postpone. We would like to cancel it... No, there has been a death in the family. Thank you."

Ao'nung listens to Neteyam talking on the phone, sighing here and there. His stomach clenches painfully and he's overridden by anxiety. The wedding venue they had booked they were now cancelling. 

It's somewhat of a relief, really. Planning a wedding so soon after a funeral was not pleasant, so after some discussions, Ao'nung and Neteyam had come to an arrangement. Cancel the reservation and ignore the wedding for however long they wanted.

"We might book it again, but probably not until next summer."

Ao'nung watches him. He doesn't really recognise Neteyam at the moment. Something in him snapped. Changed. And he remembers the warnings from their friends, that Neteyam, a child of war, can be violent. Ao'nung sees it in the lock of his jaw and the fierceness of his eyes. The way his shoulders are almost always squared. He thinks he has to take Jake's place.

He's not even anxious to make phone calls anymore.

And he doesn't shudder if his bare skin touches a spiderweb. 

Ao'nung, if there is one thing he truly believes, is that Neteyam would never hurt him. But it still unnerves him.

It scares him. 

And that's okay, he thinks to himself as he listens to Neteyam's voice, not hearing the venue owner's on the phone. 

Maybe, Ao'nung thinks, lost in his own head, maybe what Neteyam needs is some time away from the world; he plans, he responds to calls of condolences, and he prepares for his exams, he writes back without putting it off to those that text him. It's strange. But it will pass. 

Ao'nung is hopeful. 

But he's never seen Neteyam lose it all. 

Neteyam hangs up the phone, eyelids bruised from the lack of sleep. He shoots Ao'nung a weak smile, a grimace. 

And then there's a knock on the apartment's door (Neteyam cannot bare to be at home, Lo'ak cannot bare to be anywhere else).

"Are we expecting someone?" The dark-skinned male asks gently, a sharp contrast to the tension that eats away at his entire body. He's lost weight, and his rock climbing coach asked him (ordered) to take a month off. His archery coach having done the same. 

"No," Ao'nung whispers, drawing his knees up. 

A thin layer of dust had settled on the surfaces around the home, but nobody had been brave enough to fend it off.

Neteyam stands, taking a moment to just breathe. "I can't do this right now. I don't want to see anyone."

Ao'nung nods, voice frail. "I know, love. Should I ask them to leave?"

Neteyam waves his hand about. "No. I'll get it. It's probably just a friend."

It is just a friend. Neteyam can see the visitor from the peephole. He turns to Ao'nung, who stands close behind him.

"Kiss me first?" He tilts his head, leaning up. 

Ao'nung meets him halfway, resting his fingertips along a dark, freckled cheek before slipping his hand under Neteyam's hair and holding the back of his throat in a gentle grip. A flame flickers between them, as they huddle close, chest against chest, Neteyam's back against the wall. Embers float around them (specks of dust in the sunlight seeping in).

Ao'nung's lips move slowly against Neteyam's, soft skin twinkling. 

It feels like hours; in reality, it's perhaps half a minute, perhaps two. At most. Whoever is outside, needn't wait long.

Neteyam is breathless, losing himself in the taste of Ao'nung; on his tongue lingers the cool aftertaste of frozen blueberries that he likes to munch on. Neteyam tastes of toothpaste, the black kind that makes him look like a creature of the night, toothless. 

Neteyam's fingers tangle in Ao'nung's curls, tugging, holding on for dear life. He pulls back just a threads distance. "I can't take it, Nungie." 

Ao'nung shushes him, noses brushing. "Lean on me, baby. I'll carry your weight for you."

"Okay."

Kiri greets them with a tired smile, smelling of vanilla and containers of homemade food in her arms. She brings a small yellow rose for their windowsill. She spends the night and fends away the dustbunnies. 

Jake had, essentially been her father too, however unofficial. 

Notes:

Ao'nung's memories about the funeral are thoughts that I have carried on with me for the last few years, when one of my grand-aunts passed away. Essentially, I wanted to honour her memory with those small pieces of text.

Neteyam and Lo'ak losing Jake a month before their birthdays is a parallel to me losing my father an exact 7 days after my birthday. This December will mark 20 years of his passing. And so with that small detail, I wanted to store away his memory in this chapter.

Through Jake's death, I also want to offer comfort to those in similar situations of having experienced the passing of a parent, the same way I have received comments on the Sully children's vitiligo being something that made someone feel a sense of comfort.

Jake Sully's mother, who according to a wiki, is alive (his father however not), has made her first appearance. She's canonically called Camille. But I haven't found much information about her, so I am shaping her to show that family who lives too far away to regularly meet can still be family who is the strongest pillar of support.

Damin, Jake's father, never meeting his grandson is a very faint reference to my own grandfather, who died 7 years before my birth.

I like getting inspired by life sometimes.

Let me know what you think ♡

Chapter 74: Boketto

Summary:

Sorry for typos <3

Notes:

I have a job interview on Wednesday I'm terrified ngl

---

He gazes into nothingness; everything is numb and his head is void of thought.

There is nothing which surrounds him, Neteyam is alone, and it feels peaceful somehow. It feels lonely but so surrounded all the same.

If only there was a place, a tree of souls, where he could see his father again. But Neteyam knows that he never will.

 

---

 

Neytiri gazes at her daughter, watching her sit at the dining table in front of a blank sheet of paper, box of crayons unopened. She settles down in front of her, but Tuktirey doesn't notice until her mother's warm hand settles on her own, white-patched skin.

Therapy, so far, seems to be entirely unhelpful. 

"How are you feeling, baby?" Neytiri asks gently, lacing their fingers.

Tuktirey shrugs, pursing her lips and glaring down at the table. "I don't know." 

Neytiri hums, her free hand sneaking to the box of crayons and taking out one of them. She holds it up for Tuk. "Can you draw it for me?" 

At this, Tuktirey looks at her, affronted. She pulls her hand away and stands up hurriedly, chair scraping. "I don't want to. I want to forget. Leave me alone!" 

She dashes up the stairs, almost knocking into Lo'ak and Tsireya, who were just sauntering downstairs. Neytiri, with a sigh, lowers the crayon and fiddles with the crumbled edge of the white sheet. 

Lo'ak takes his sister's place at the table and grasps Neytiri’s hands, holding them between his own. She tugs her face into a smile as best as she can, but it only makes her face contort into a grimace. Tsireya stands behind Lo'ak despite the many empty chairs. She places her hands on his shoulders and massages lightly. Her presence comforts him, and his comfort comforts Neytiri’s pain. It soothes her, watching them be so in love. Her sweet little forest boy and his island girl.

"It's going to take her some time," Neytiri murmurs, now letting her fingers slip between Lo'ak's. Through these touches, they support one another. "I am just glad the funeral is over and people have finally stopped calling. I could not stand having to talk about it over and over while my daughter would burst into tears every time the phone rang."

Tsireya swallows thickly, her eyes welling up with tears that she hurriedly blinks away.

"I—" Lo'ak trails off, unsure what to say. Essentially, he feels the same.

"I'm glad I could meet Trudy again," Neytiri admits. "But I wish it was different. I haven't seen her in twenty years."

"She saved dad's li— she saved dad, right?" 

Neytiri nods once, sucking her lower lip into her mouth, chewing on the skin. Dry and cracked. Sometimes it would bleed and hurt, but that stinging is nowhere near as great as the pain in her chest. "She did."

"When is uncle Tommy dropping by?" Lo'ak asks with a breath of hope in his voice.

Neytiri shuts her eyes, tightly. She shakes her head, beads clinking. "I cannot bring myself to face him yet, Lo'ak. You can visit him and Grace whenever you want, darling. But I cannot see him yet."

"Neteyam called," Lo'ak whispers, switching the subject. "He said Kiri came to visit them a few days ago. She brought them food and helped clean up a bit." 

Neytiri nods, pale brown eyes revealing themselves slowly. "That is nice of her. Perhaps we could invite her over. I'm sure she misses coming around."

Tsireya shifts from foot to foot, hands resting now on Lo'ak's shoulders. "Would you like some water, Mrs Sully?"

Neytiri turns her gaze towards her and it softens. She stands slowly, letting go of Lo'ak's hands and steps over to Tsireya. Slowly, her arms circle around the younger woman, pulling her in. She smells like hibiscus and a little bit like honey. Tsireya returns her hug, unsure and slow. 

Lo'ak just stares forward, unseeing, in a state of boketto.

"I should have told you long ago to call me Neytiri." She pulls away and smooths her blouse down. There's a tomato stain on the bottom under a button. It gets lost among the pattern.

"Okay," Tsireya hums, pressing her heels into the ground a bit firmer and clasping her hands behind her back. "I'll be sure to remember. Thank you."

"How are you holding up, honey?" Neytiri traces her cheek with her knuckles gently and Tsireya's cheeks squish in a shy, ticklish smile.

The metcayinan girl intertwines her fingers behind her back and glances at her feet. "If I remember the pleasant moments with him, I feel almost happy."

Lo'ak perks up, but otherwise says nothing.

Neytiri thinks about it for a second and then nods, letting her hand fall. "I wish that could help Tuk, but if I told her to remember the fun moments, she may scream at me again. Everything I say to her is wrong. My mother couldn't console her either."

"Neither could I," Lo'ak grumbles, nose scrunching in distaste. "I don't think anyone could except for Tonowari at the funeral, but that was a while ago."

"It's only been a couple days," Tsireya supplies, watching Neytiri sit back down.

Lo'ak heaves a miserable sigh. "It feels like months."

"It feels like yesterday that I first met him," Neytiri utters.

 

---

 

"I don't want to celebrate this year," Neteyam grumbles into Ao'nung's bare shoulder, sitting in the taller male's lap.

Ao'nung hums, tilting his head a bit to see Neteyam's face. "For the holidays?"

"My birthday."

Ao'nung feels winded all of a sudden. "Why not?"

"I just don't think I should. It doesn't feel right." Neteyam shifts, foot tangling in the bunched up covers around them, but he doesn't care. "It's not that I think I shouldn't feel happy and I know, before you or anyone feels the need to tell me, that he would want me to be happy. But I'm not. I'm just not happy with anything in my life Ao'nung."

Ao'nung doesn't interrupt him, not when he's suddenly expressing himself after days of staring blankly ahead of himself.

Neteyam heaves a terribly tired sigh and shakes his head, leaning his entire weight onto Ao'nung. The surfer holds him close, the gears in his head turning at lightning's pace just to figure out how to fix this. He's not sure that he can, but he will never give up, not until his sweet Neteyam can smile a smile that reaches his eyes again.

Neteyam hesitates, chin resting on Ao'nung's shoulder so that they cannot see each other. He exhales slowly. "I don't care about biology anymore. Or international relations. And maybe I don't care about Korean either. I don't need a univesity to learn that."

"It's just one more year after this, Tey. I don't think you should-"

"Don't you get it?" Neteyam whispers, voice chilly and hollow, like December's frostbite on pale fingertips. "Don't you get it, Nung? I'm tired."
Dejected, he utters his deepest thoughts. "I don't want to end up in the hospital again, but I think I'm getting there."

"You could take a gap year," Ao'nung speaks softly in his ear, but it does little to soothe him.

Neteyam shakes his head, lips parting, dry. Dry, dry, dry. It hurts.
"I don't want to finish this. I want to study something I genuinely care about, without having to think if it will benefit me somehow in the future. I don't want to learn something for the sake of having a prestigious career. I don't give a rat's ass about the cells and all these animals and whatever the hell else we have to learn. I don't care about politics, either! Or the classes on law that I have to take. What the fuck is the point of it all if it doesn't make me feel like myself? Don't I already speak enough languages, too? And then I have to learn the names of the traditional dances, and the type of dance and extra infortmation on it. Recognize the instrumment in the background. For what? I don't care what Korean people eat on a birthday! Or the names of the parts of a traditional house!"

"And what," Ao'nung whispers, a sharp contrast to Neteyam's growing voice. "Do you care about?"

Neteyam falls silent for a second, before his shoulders relax and he straightens up somewhat, lifting his face from Ao'nung's shoulder. Ao'nung watches his face but Neteyam stares out the window instead. He looks relieved, like he's just figured something out. "I care about the forest. I care about the flowers and the weeds, but not enough to grow them myself. But I care about Wuthering Heights beyond all that I am, Ao'nung. I care about symbolism, rhyme and storytelling. I care about clothing, and how to sew and stitch it just right. I used to care about dancing. I still do, but when I see a professional dancer my heart breaks into all these little pieces because... because I'm a soldier's son with the knowledge and the power on how to kill a man."

"What else?" Ao'nung murmurs, tracing his cheek with a finger. "Tell me, darling."

Neteyam swallows, loudly, throat bobbing. He doesn't look away from the window. "I care about... about having a small Japanese dog that I can train. I care about Call Me By Your Name, but only the film. I care about poetry, but the only one work from Shakespeare that I like is Sonnet one-sixteen. Love is not love, which alters, when it alteration finds. That's who I am, Ao'nung. I think that's... I used to write poems all the time—"

His voice breaks and his tears cascade down his cheeks, sunlight glistening. "I hate studying, I hate learning from books and reading with a cramp in my neck on the fucking computer."

"What do you love? Truly, love?"

Neteyam heaves a sigh, long and shaky and so incredibly pained. His breath hitches. 

"I..."

He doesn't know. Not really. He knows who he loves, but that is not the same. His lashes stick together from his droplets of pearls, red-rimmed. He locks his eyes with Ao'nung's. 

"You."

"Neteya—"

"No." Neteyam cuts him off, cupping his cheeks desperately. "It's always been you. You didn't mind when I took you to the Unicorn Bistro and the selfie museum in Budapest. You let me do it. You take photos of me when you think I'm not looking because you know that's what I want. You know I love looking back on them and seeing the way I change. You taught me to love my vitiligo when all I wanted was to burn my skin off and have it disappear. Ao'nung, it's always been you. You're the best of me."

Ao'nung blinks his tears away, touched and terrified all at the same time. "You... you love getting ready for parties. You love when you finally do something you've been putting off. You love when your sister makes you show off your flexibility. You love that Pottermore sorted you into Slytherin. You love making that mushroom stew thing and you love making vegetable soup with barely any spices."

And, oh, Eywa, it is so sappy how they're crying and baring their souls to one another like this.

Neteyam clears his throat, staring helplessly.

"You love Kiri. She is your closest friend and you miss her when she isn't here. You love when you find a fanfiction that has a couple hundred thousand words packet full of angst and soulmates, and a storyline that strays so far from cannon you cannot predict anything at all. You love when a new story makes you feel like Wuthering Heights. You love when it reminds you of your sonette." Ao'nung takes a breath, voice so soft, open, honest and vulnerable that Neteyam's skin prickles in goosepumps despite the warm air in the room. And Ao'nung cannot stop the flow of words escaping the opened cage of his teeth. His feelings, his ideas and his opinions all flow freely, cascading like the streams of a grand waterfall, falling over Neteyam's form and soaking him to the bone, seeping into his bone marrow, into all his corpuscules, igniting him with feelings so raw, he doesn't know what to do with them.

"Ao'nung, I-"

"You love the smell of new books but prefer to read on your phone. You think works written by non-native English speakers far outmatch those written by those who spoke English as their first language. You love speaking na'vi, but you think in English. Na'vi poetry scares you, because English detaches you from your emotions. And your favourite German word is Glaskugelkindheit after a poem you've read during high-school." Ao'nung holds his face in his palms like he would hold the most beautiful star.

Glaskugelkindheit.

Glass bead childhood. It's such a funny thing, that three words become one. And they don't quite feel the same.

Seventeen. Neteyam had just turned seventeen when he read that Poem for the first time. Ao'nung remembers, even though Neteyam is almost twenty-two now.

"I used to write that word on my notebooks," Neteyam utters, featherlight.

"I learnt how to pronounce it just for you," Ao'nung admits.

Neteyam could cry again, but Ao'nung is a force that evaporates his tears like a campfire.

"And," Ao'nung chokes out, wrapping him in a tight embrace. "You love when you check the time and the hour matches the minute."

Neteyam lets out a strangled, wet laugh. "I do."

"And to you, there is no such thing as nine in the evening. It's twenty-one."

Shyly, Neteyam peaks at him from between his fallen braid-curtain. "You're my eleven-eleven wish."

The waves crash above their heads and settle finally, uninteresting to a surfer, and calm. And there is so much more Ao'nung could say, but he feels this might be enough. He trails a hand down Neteyam's arm and circles his fingers gently around his wrist; he guides it to his lips and kisses the tender skin on the inside. "I remember when you broke your wrist from falling down the stairs. And I know you get stomach aches and a tingly tongue from watermelon, but you still eat it. I remember when you used to colour your hair with highlighters if you couldn't focus in class during highschool."

Neteyam believes in soulmates; Ao'nung knows that they are.

They do not leave the room until the night blankets the streets outside, enveloping life in a shadow broken only by the golden globes of streetlights.

Feeling alive for the first time in a while, Neteyam runs down to the park with Ao'nung, climbing the fence, ignoring the closing-time and sneaking around the playground. They throw sand at one another and Neteyam finds himself climbing a tree barefoot despite the chilly air of the night while Ao'nung pretends to be his Romeo for the night.

They dash for their life when they see the flashlights of authority, flipflops in hand, ignoring pebbles and cigarette butts. Ao'nung is laughing and Neteyam yells out somewhat loudly beside him as they round a corner and bee-line for the river, rushing down to the shore.

Polar-bears welcome them like last winter.

Ao'nung picks him up like a bride and spinds them around before throwing Neteyam into the water, watching him flail in the air like a bug turned on its back, legs kicking about until he disappears under the water's surface with a high-pitched scream. Ao'nung dives in under after Neteyam; it's dark under the surface, golden spots dance above him as he looks up, heart pounding in his chest.

They resurface with gasps and break out in laughter.

"Chainsaw couldn't split us up," Neteyam sings softly, letting Ao'nung hold him up, relaxing in the water, head tilting back. "Nothing's gonna wake me up. I'm falling asleep with you lying next to me."

"We should get out," Ao'nung murmurs, pressing a kiss to his chin. 

"You're so beautiful," Neteyam continues singing to him softly. "I don't want to turn away."

They find their way home dripping wet and shivering, hands held tightly, unwilling to let go.
One soul residing in two bodies so peacefully.

 

Notes:

Behind the line with the corpuscules: The tactile corpuscle is responsible for transmitting the sensations of light touch and low-frequency vibrations from the periphery to the central nervous system.

Poem: Glasskugelkindheit (Valeria Koch)

Neteyam sings: lightning - mehro & chance with you - mehro

Chapter 75: Vita Nuova

Summary:

This is officially my work with the highest chapter count after Not a Soldier Yet (my first and most precious work in the fandom)
I've basically written enough that characters can literally reference things from their past experiences and the readers might remember 💀

Notes:

Yall have me choking on tears with all the compliments on the last 3 chapters 😭

---

Lo'ak and Tsireya stay at the Sully's house with Neytiri and Tuktirey, but Neteyam, close to three weeks after the funeral, still cannot bring himself to go home and see the empty spot left for Jake.

Every time he remembers, he feels a part of him has died, like a bullet shot straight through his chest, ricocheting back to tear into his throat, choking him.

He dreams, and his dreams are wilder than the hurricanes of the past decades. They may not tear homes apart but they destruct his peace the same way. The first dream came the night of the funeral — he woke to his own screeching. He'd dreamt of being there on the battlefield, watching it all, unable to do anything. 

Ao'nung almost had a heart attack from the sudden screaming and the woman living in the opposite apartment even knocked on their door, worried and groggy. The next evening, she'd left a box of homemade food on their doormat, having found out from Ao'nung what had happened. 

The dreams — nightmares, essentially — are haunting. 

The second time, Ao'nung was just as unprepared. Fortunately, this time had no screams of terror, but Neteyam had tossed and turned for hours, grumbling and whining about something before Ao'nung finally woke up enough to register what was going on. 

Neteyam had woken up completely disoriented, jostled awake by Ao'nung's gentle caresses on his cheeks. Without any prompting, he immediately blurted out what he had dreamt of and threw himself into Ao'nung's arms, holding him tight around the shoulder, nose pressed to his throat, inhaling his lingering cologne. 

"There was a war and they killed you right in front of me," he had choked out, eyes unfocused and hollow. "But the man who killed you saw me scream and... and he just let me stab him without fighting back. He would have been stronger than me, I think."

Ao'nung doesn't really know much about Neteyam's life before they met at fifteen, but he feels that Neteyam has witnessed war first hand before. And even despite the fact the war he was conceived during had come to and end close to his birth, Ao'nung knows there had been a conflict in his home before they fled — one he doesn't talk about.

After that, he stopped telling Ao'nung what he dreamt about that would wake him in terror. 

 

---

 

Neteyam has a 1992, Dover Thrift Edition copy of Oscar Wilde's The Ballad of Reading Gaol and Other Poems. 

He reads it day and night, despite it being one of the thinnest books Ao'nung has ever seen. The surfer is sure that Neteyam has finished it front to back at least ten times by now — he can't judge. Perhaps those poems are what keep the dark-skinned male sane.

Neteyam sits on the windowsill, book in hand and a pale pink blanket draped over his lap, his feet bare. He rubs them together from time to time, or just rolls his ankles, the broken-spine little book held in both hands like his biggest treasure. He chews on the tender flesh on the inside of his bottom lip, eyes running over the same poem countless times. 

Vita Nuova.

It speaks to him and yet it doesn't. He longs for the same peace but lives yet in tremors of pain. 

Ao'nung gazes at him from the sofa, eyes gentle and longing, watching Neteyam mouth words silently to himself, illuminated by the golden sunlight peaking in through the curtains — white ones sewn like lace.

"What are you reading?" He whispers, and at first Neteyam doesn't notice, humming to himself before he lifts his eyes, wide eyes staring at Ao'nung, startled.

"Sorry? Did you say something?" 

"What are you reading, darling?" Ao'nung smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. Neteyam looks so soft, caught off guard like this. 

"Vita Nuova."

"What's it about?" His head lols to one side.

Neteyam hesitates, eyes darting along the walls as if he'd find the answer smeared on the paint. "Uh. Feelings." 

"What kind of feelings?" Ao'nung wraps his own, soft, pale blue blanket around himself a little tighter.

Neteyam sucks his lower lip into his mouth, bunny teeth peeking out and worrying at the skin there for a moment before his gaze settles back on the book and its yellowed pages. "I stood by the unvintageable sea."

Ao'nung takes a moment to realise that Neteyam is reading to him. 

"Till the wet waves drenched face and hair with spray; The long red fires of the dying day Burned in the west; the wind piped drearily; And to the land the clamorous gulls did flee," he murmured, fingertips grazing over the words so fondly, so gently, Ao'nung cannot do anything but stare, mesmerised by the ethereal being in front of him.

"Alas!' I cried, 'my life is full of pain, And who can garner fruit or golden grain From these waste fields which travail ceaselessly!' My nets gaped wide with many a break and flaw, Nathless I threw them as my final cast Into the sea, and waited for the end." Neteyam takes a breath, as if the words he reads play a cinematic masterpiece behind the curtains of his eyelids as they flutter shut and he breathes in deeply, chest rising.

"When lo! a sudden glory! and I saw
From the black waters of my tortured past
The argent splendour of white limbs ascend!"

Ao'nung stares at him, speechless. Neteyam hadn't put much feeling into the words. He didn't raise his voice with the exclamation marks, he didn't cry out when the poet had. His voice had stayed soft as the summer's rain, even and deep. Quiet and soothing. He doesn't seem to care for the original meaning of the poem, he absorbs it and interprets it as his own — the poem means to him whatever his beating heart dictates. 

"I think," Neteyam begins, before Ao'nung can gather himself and form a coherent response. "When I am in this poem, the ascending white limbs are not someone else. I think they're mine. One day, I'll be the one to save myself, you know. It's not anyone else's job. It never has been and never will be. I'm responsible for my own happiness. Everyone is responsible for their own happiness." 

Ao'nung's stomach tightens in a flash of anxiety. He doesn't know how to handle the version of Neteyam that speaks so freely and openly about the feelings which reside in his heart.

"I— I think you're right," Ao'nung whispers weakly and swallows, mouth suddenly filled with moisture. 

Neteyam shrugs, closing the book. He opens it again, changing his mind, but he doesn't read anything, only flips through the pages, smoothing out wrinkles or folding some new on his favourite pages. "It is a Jewish... philosophy. I think that's the right word."

"Oh, is it?" Ao'nung breathes out.

Neteyam stares out the window with such intensity, Ao'nung expects lightning to shoot across the sky. "The old lady that I used to tutor in German spoke to me about it. She had learnt it from a rabbi."

"I didn't know she was Jewish," Ao'nung mumbles dumbly. 

Neteyam laughs softly and shakes his head. "I always found a bittersweet irony in the fact that she'd been learning German. But, after all this time, I think Brown hadn't been her real last name."

"Did she ever speak of her past?" Ao'nung asks quietly, so small and unsure of himself. He suddenly feels decades younger than Neteyam. 

"No, not really. But she spoke of her parents with such love and respect, that it made me feel awful for resenting my... for resenting him when he was making me work and study at the same time. I felt ungrateful."

"You're not—" Ao'nung hurries to say, earning a soft smile and a shake of the head from Neteyam. 

"I have always been privileged," Neteyam hums, setting the book down on his lap. "Despite my skin. Being a respected military man's first born son has an air of authority around it. It commands respect. I am aware how lucky most of my life has been. Even with the financial crisis, we can still afford Salmon and shrimp and lactose free products and buy new bows or climbing gear if they break. Mom could buy all of us a house and a flat tomorrow morning if she so wishes and it wouldn't take a toll on us."

Ao'nung, in that moment, realises that they'd never spoken about finances before. He also realises that he wants to know more about Mrs Brown and what the rabbi taught her.

And that he's really hungry. 

The mention of salmons didn't help. They're Ao'nung's favourite fish.

He clears his throat, gaining his focus back — it had tried fluttering away from him as a butterfly on a field of echinaceas. In his defence, Neteyam had been restless at night again and it kept him awake. 

"What does the philosophy mean?"

"Mrs Brown's?" Neteyam tilts his head.

Ao'nung licks his lips and nods slowly, watching Neteyam curl his toes before stretching his legs out somewhat. The book almost slips from his lap, but he catches it.

Neteyam bites the inside of his cheek. "Well, I'm not sure I can explain it well. Essentially, she just said that I cannot expect other people to bring happiness to me. She said that I cannot expect it to just appear in my life either. That, oh, I'll be happy when I get married and my spouse treats me right, isn't true. I have to work on it myself. Everyone has to. She'd always joked that it is a rule that she has to be happy, that being sad isn't what she should be. But she always mentioned that this doesn't mean we're not allowed to be sad. We can be, we just need to make sure it doesn't drown us."

"I see," Ao'nung utters, nodding as he stares down at his lap. 

Outside, rain begins to patter along the sidewalks, jostling the leaves of the trees. 

If Neteyam is a little put off by Ao'nung's short answers, he doesn't show it.

Notes:

Yall might shed a tear or two in the next chapter or so

But it might also be happy tears

Who knows

I don't (yes I do)

Chapter 76: Honey

Summary:

Neteyam does a little bit (a lot) of spiralling
And by lot, I mean lot. It's almost the entire chapter.
Pretty heavy chapter. Read with caution and take a break if it's too much ♡

Notes:

Currently trying to climb my way out of rock bottom so this might be crusty
Job interview went well though so that's that

---

Neteyam likes poetry. 

And he likes romance.

But he loves pretty words with twisted meanings the most; death explained so beautifully that one may long for it — he doesn't. 

Neteyam loves Poe and he adores Baudelaire — Ao'nung doesn't understand half of what either of them wrote about.

And all the things Ao'nung has listed about him that he thinks Neteyam loves are true. He does love all that — and yet he still feels empty, almost like a part of him has died along side his father, laid to rest forever under soft soils. 

Neteyam likes to pretend he's all that, but the trust is, he has no idea who he is and now that days have passed, the temporary high that Ao'nung gifted him with when he spoke those words is gone. It just decided to vanish one moment when he woke up and now his chest has been burning with anxiety for longer than he can remember. 

Neteyam likes to pretend that he doesn't miss deadlines, that he knows the answers to his exam questions — but he misses deadlines and cheats almost every single exam because that's just who he is — distantly, in his head (that's he is so inconveniently stuck in), he thinks he may be allergic to studying. He hasn't enjoyed a single lesson since he finished high school and now doesn't have to analyse poems anymore. 

He did enjoy a presentation held by a... he forgets the word... who cares. A very influential individual, who had travelled to North Korea (legally, mind you) for political reasons literal decades ago. That was fascinating, really. But when he had to sit through a lecture in which a woman kept talking about why each day of the week was named what it was in three different languages that he had nothing to do with, Neteyam realised that university just wasn't for him. 

Because all that was a fucking joke.

Days of the week... for what? In which career is that going to aid him?

He'd rather drink acid than sit through another lesson about Buddhism, too. No offence to anyone, but the professor mistook him for a woman, the poor, old, tiny monk, and upon teaching him buddhistic rules, told him he must subject himself to a life where he is less than, than his husband is, because he's a woman. He is not a woman, thank you very much. But he was wildly offended on Kiri's part too, and Tsireya's, and any other woman who doesn't agree with that sentiment. 

Because Neteyam may not know much about himself, but he does know that he strongly believes everyone is worth just the same (unless the person has done something truly terrible). 

He groans. 

Why the absolute fuck is his brain thinking of all of this right now? He's just trying to sleep. 

But the sheets are touching him all wrong and Ao'nung feels like a fucking furnace next to him. For some ungodly reason, he has also decided that tonight is the night he starts snoring, too. It's driving Neteyam up the wall. Seriously, he might start climbing it. He'll be the next Spiderman. He hates spiders though, so maybe he'll be... Beetleman instead. Or the ladybug guy. 

Mainly though, Neteyam is just absolutely terrified of turning twenty-two in exactly seven minutes. He doesn't want to. He still feels seventeen. Just, not as passionate about things. 

Ao'nung, the poor unfortunately lovestruck fool, has also listened to Neteyam's request to not celebrate his birthday, so he's sleeping instead of waiting anxiously for midnight to strike, so he can be the first to congratulate Neteyam. Neteyam kind of regrets that. It's making him lonely. The first text always came from Jake. No matter what. He could have been deployed somewhere and he'd still manage to call or text or have a fucking letter be delivered to him by some poor guy (usually Norm) at their literal doorstep at ass-o-clock in the morning. 

Yeah. Neteyam is starting to see a pattern here.

He's swearing a lot.

Not that that should matter. He's an adult. Adults can swear and stuff. It's normal. But it's not really what Neteyam does. He always tries to be polite, even when he's just thinking silently in his own head with nobody to hear him. 

But the thing is... sometimes he cannot. Control himself. That is. 

And then Ao'nung, the poor, unsuspecting fool dares to shift in his sleep and now his hot wet breath is fanning against Neteyam's throat. 

Neteyam inhales sharply and then just holds his breath. He needs to stay calm. But then Ao'nung breathes. Again. And again. 

And that's all he can take. 

And he's lost the ability to he graceful about it too. 

Neteyam kicks his feet around wildly until the covers finally come off (at starts waking Ao'nung up) and yanks his own pillow from under his head to press over his own face and quite literally scream into it. It's muffled but loud non the less and Ao'nung jerks awake.

There's three more minutes left. 

Before the surfer can react, Neteyam is flinging the pillow at a wall, now only panting, and stands hurriedly. He curses and his breath in several colourful languages and he finally figures out why people think German sounds rather... rough. 

Ao'nung watches him, wide eyes and mouth hanging open, having not quite figured out what's going on yet.

"I can't fucking do this—" Neteyam shrieks out and yanks his hoodie off the back of their desk-chair, knocking the whole thing over. He doesn't even pull it on before he's bolting out of the room and beelines for his shoes by the door.

Luckily for him, Lo'ak and Tsireya are still safely in Neytiri’s house, home. Probably sleeping or maybe staying up to send him the first messages of his twenty-second miserable year on this Earth. 

"Neteyam!" Ao'nung yelps, scrambling to his feet. He almost face-plants, getting tangled in the covers. His heart beats wildly in his chest.

There are two minutes left. 

Neteyam doesn't mean to ignore him, he genuinely didn't hear — or he did, his brain just wouldn't let him register it. The door is locked, and he's trying to turn the key so hard and fast he might just end up breaking it.

"Wait, honey—"

Why on earth is Ao'nung talking about food? 

Neteyam pauses, brain going silent for a second. He doesn't even like honey. He might tolerate it in his tea sometimes, but he also hasn't really been drinking tea lately. He's never managed to make it a habit despite all the wonderful flavours. He does like coffee with ice cream in it, though. And biscuits. He likes that coffee from Cannes. 

He does not even realise that he's been standing still for a whole ten seconds, but Ao'nung has caught up with him, placing hesitant hands on his shoulders from behind, and Neteyam, in his absolute messed up state of mind, panics and elbows him in the face. Luckily, he's too disoriented to really cause damage and misses Ao'nung's nose entirely, landing the hit on an unsuspecting cheek. 

And then his knees give out, because he hadn't meant to do that.

Eywa, he just hit the one man who's never hurt him before.

Much, anyway.

Ao'nung used to be really fucking mean when they first met. 

Ao'nung is stunned into silence, brows furrowed in confusion. He doesn't react for another ten seconds, staring at the spot Neteyam's horrified face had been before it disappeared — oh, shit, he fell. Ao'nung shakes his head and kneels down beside Neteyam, who's taken to staring ahead blankly, lips parted, visibly trying to form some words, but all his languages had ceased to exist. He can't even apologise for hitting Ao'nung. 

And then there is only one minute left. Despite the dark, Neteyam can see it on the digital clock above the oven, that's all the way in the kitchen, but it's just at the right angle. Neteyam contemplates holding his breath until he's finally a year older and can leave his messy, twenty-one year old self right where it belongs. Before midnight. Before the big zeros flash. 

Oh, wait. Ao'nung is talking to him.

But no matter how hard he tries to focus, all he hears is buzzing. His tongue feels heavy and his mind hazy. It's almost like the static of a TV screen has taken over his soul. 

"I don't— there's meaning—" 

What the hell is he saying? Why aren't his words cooperating? He's trying to apologise. Two words. That's all he's trying to say to Ao'nung. Three if we're being picky. Maybe "I'm" counts as two words. Who knows. Not Neteyam. He doesn't seem to know a thing right now.

Excepts that, for some odd reason, he really wants to read Marauders era Harry Potter fanfiction. 

And where the everloving fuck did that thought come from? He hasn't even interacted with anything Harry Potter related in months. Oh. Ao'nung said the word "Slytherin" a couple days ago. That must be it. He should buy a tie. 

Ao'nung would look good with a tie. 

Neteyam blinks. 

Yeah. He would. He'd be so pretty like that. 

Neteyam wonders what his patronus would be. Ao'nung's that is. Neteyam has taken the official quiz sooo many times. He'd make an account, take the quiz, delete it, register the same email, and take the quiz again. Once, when he was around sixteen, he got a unicorn. And then before or after that he got a shark. He thinks that's pretty rad. Now, he usually gets some type of dog (which makes him instantly delete his account because he wants something unique). He's gonna e-mail Rowling to use omaticayan lore. He wants an ikran patronus. Would Ao'nung's be a whale? Lo'ak got a whale once. 

Huh?

Neteyam had a brief obsession with whales, sharks, and dolphins when he was fourteen, just before the move.

Apple likes whales. 

Not the fruit. The girl. Eyrina. 

Neteyam hasn't seen any of those girls in a while. Wonder how they're doing. He kind of misses them. They're really fucking cute. In a little sister way. Though, he might actually be younger than them. 

Oh, and Da-Som. And Mark. 

Neteyam should focus on his newer friendships some. 

How much time has passed? Oh, it's still one minute left. Or, well, who knows. The clock doesn't show seconds. 

He feels a jolt of fear course through his entire body suddenly. He doesn't want to be sad when he finally turns twenty-two. He's got a few seconds to calm himself and plaster on a smile. Act like nothing happened. Nothing is wrong. 

Smile and wave, boys, smile and wave. 

What the fuck?

Neteyam pulls a face of disgust at his own thoughts. 

Why isn't the clock turning? Why is there still a minute left. Did time freeze to give him... well, time, to collect himself? Gosh, what the fuck. It feels like getting spammed with notifications from tiktok when Kiri reacts to every single video Neteyam sent her. He'd always delete them, and then she'd react to something again. 

Neteyam realises he's sitting by the front door. On the floor. And he's facing Ao'nung. He hopes it's dark enough that the surfer can't see him properly. 

"Have I ever seen you surf before?"

Ao'nung freezes, mouth falling open. "Wha— what?!"

"Oh, I'm being so unfair to you right now," Neteyam sighs out, unaware that his mouth has free reigns. "You don't deserve having to see me like this— oh, the clock just turned. Can you kiss me for my birthday, please? I think I regret saying I don't want to celebrates."

Ao'nung isn't much in the mood for kisses. Quite frankly, he's terrified. One glance at the clock in the kitchen confirms his suspicions. Midnight just came around. And it's being unfairly cruel.

"Okay," he whispers anyway and places hesitant hands on Neteyam's cheeks, leaning forward. Ao'nung kisses him softly, sweetly. 

Neteyam melts into it.

He doesn't have to be the age he lost his father anymore. The weight on his shoulders lets up a little and his ribs loosen, letting his lungs fill with air.

It makes him think of hot air balloons. Is the air in his lungs hot enough to have one fly? Maybe there wouldn't be enough oxygen to fuel the fire. 

He's studying biology. Shouldn't he know this? 

Oh, wait, Ao'nung is still kissing him. He's being so sweet about it, too. So gentle. He still tastes like toothpaste. Neteyam grasps his shoulders gently and lets his eyes flutter shut, lips tingling. They move against is other slowly. 

Ao'nung pulls back just a breath. "Happy Birthday, Tey." 

Really, Ao'nung has no idea what else to say. Neteyam wanted a birthday kiss, so he gave it to him. 

Neteyam exhales through his nose and lowers his head onto Ao'nung's shoulder, resting his forehead on the warmth of his sleepshirt. He could fall asleep here. It's comfortably uncomfortable. He might get a neck-cramp from it.

Ao'nung sighs softly and rests his cheek against Neteyam's head, wrapping an arm around him. They sit like that right on the floor before the front door. 

Neteyam drifts in and out of consciousness for a good hour and Ao'nung doesn't dare disturb him. Not because he's scared of being hit or anything. No, he figured it out that Neteyam didn't notice him, and got scared when the surfer essentially snuck up on him. He's not mad and it stopped hurting some time in the middle of the kiss, anyway.

Worse things have happened than an accident elbow to the face. 

Ao'nung isn't even sure Neteyam noticed it. Sure, he seemed horrified and Ao'nung genuinely thought he'd bow down at his feet and beg for forgiveness (close enough to what actually happened, in a sense). Ao'nung thinks Neteyam noticed, but it made him feel bad and now his brain isn't letting him store the memory. 

Neteyam stirs from time to time. He'd yawn on occasion or murmur something in his precious, deep voice that Ao'nung doesn't understand and then knocks out cold for a few minutes again.

Ao'nung won't keep him awake. He's actually waiting for Neteyam to fall asleep long enough so that Ao'nung could carry him back to bed.

It takes a while, but eventually Neteyam does fall asleep. Ao'nung carries him to bed, tucks him in and kisses his forehead. For a while he stands by the side of the bed, deep in thought. He cannot decide where to sleep. Neteyam might need space, so Ao'nung could sleep in the living room. He doesn't want to wake the archer by getting into bed and jostling him though. But if he wakes up alone, Neteyam might misunderstand and get hurt. Ao'nung, then, would explain that he didn't mean to hurt him, and Neteyam would pretend to feel soothed, but he wouldn't actually believe him. 

At least, Ao'nung thinks so.

And he's probably right. 

Neteyam's mind is a mess right now. He'll be fine, eventually. But right now, he cannot handle anything even a tiny bit hurtful. Intentional or not.

Ao'nung does end up lying down. And it does indeed wake Neteyam. His eyes open, landing on Ao'nung. He blinks a few times, slow and disoriented (and adorable, but now is not the time for Ao'nung to be thinking that). And then he falls asleep like nothing happened, probably exhausted and numb.

Ao'nung, after a few more minutes of making sure all is calm, falls asleep too. He makes a mental note to make sure he and Neteyam have a serious conversation about this. After his birthday, of course. Which is today. Ao'nung will try his best to make sure Neteyam feels at least a little happy.

They can talk about feelings later. 

Ao'nung can tell Neteyam wouldn't be able to handle that right now. And, well, that's okay. He's grieving. Neteyam has never lost someone so important to him before. He needs time. 

Ao'nung will give him time. As much as he needs. More than he needs even, if Neteyam asks. Because Neteyam of all people doesn't deserve to be destroyed in this way. 

He just doesn't.

Notes:

The crippling realisation that you're not rich at all and will have to spend an ungodly amount of money on your tuition because your university is bigoted

Idk I've been in an anxiety induced state for the past 3 days since I figured that one out and I'm not enjoying myself

Chapter 77: Siblings

Summary:

My mom, talking about me: she must be so upset for her first relationship to end up like this with him cheating. Because it was the very first. It must be so hard.
Me, not really giving a shit about "firsts" in any way shape or form except for in fanfics: 🧍🏻🧍🏻🧍🏻

Anyway
Enjoy this filler chapter because im bringing the promised tears from a few chapters ago in the next update 😗

Notes:

I ran into my ex's mother and tell me why this woman asked for like 5 hugs and then proudly told me her freshly eighteen other son has been dating a 23 year old woman for a few months💀
Where is her brain pls

---

Ao'nung watches him, eyes tired and a little bruised from lack of sleep (and perhaps the tears he woke up to, but he's not about to tell Neteyam that). 

Neteyam is fast asleep. His braids are spread out on his pillow, lips parted and a bit poofier than usual. His face always gets a little poofy from sleep. Ao'nung not so much. Neteyam's lashes fan along his cheeks. He seems so peaceful, sleeping like this, but Ao'nung knows better.

It's just wistful thinking. Neteyam is not peaceful, and Ao’nung isn't sure when they're going to see the sun again. It's been a rainy day every day since.

The archer shifts, rubs at his eye for a bit, but doesn't wake up. 

It is past noon. 

Ao'nung already had to text Lo'ak and Kiri to not visit at the moment, because Neteyam had a breakdown and was, to put it plainly, recovering after properly exhausting himself. Lo'ak had freaked out, over text, but Ao'nung reassured him that he can still come visit, just not yet. He lives here too. Of course he can come. Ao'nung is only asking for some time. He needs to see what state Neteyam is in when he wakes up.

Another hour later, Neteyam stirs. He blinks his eyes open, absolutely disoriented and exhales deeply, slowly. He sucks in a shaky, long breath and turns on his side to face Ao'nung. 

Ao'nung rests a hand on Neteyam's cheek, caressing the warm skin with his thumb. "Morning, sunshine."

"Hi," Neteyam croaks out, throat raw. 

"How are you feeling?" Ao'nung asks quietly. 

Neteyam stretches his legs out, rolling his ankles. He stifles a yawn and turns his face somewhat to hide it in his pillow. Ao'nung's hand slips to his hair. He continues his soft caresses. 

"Like shit." Neteyam sniffles once and sighs through his nose. "My head hurts."

Ao'nung hums in sympathy. He shuffles closer and pulls Neteyam against his chest. "That's okay, baby. You'll be fine. Do you want a painkiller?"

Neteyam melts against Ao'nung, letting out a quiet, content little noise. He realises he's lost a sock while slept, right foot feeling a little chilled. He presses it to Ao'nung's leg and watches as the surfer squirms, before grabbing his ankle and keeping the offending limb away from his warm skin. Neteyam doesn't protest, curious and quite liking the way Ao'nung holds his ankle, how dainty he looks next to the taller male. 

And, okay, maybe Neteyam has a bit of a size kink, and a romance kink (if that's a thing, he doesn't know. It is, now).

"I'm okay," he whispers and Ao'nung shoots him a tender smile in return, to which Neteyam steals an equally tender kiss.

They fall silent after that, just enjoying each other's company.

 

---

 

Neteyam is full of anxiety  — and for once it's unrelated to his father. He forgot to attend an exam. Which means he failed the class. And unfortunately, it was his highest credit class, too. And he's just seen an e-mail informing him that his overall average has dropped enough that he might have to pay tuition fees. Until he gets his grades up again. 

And since he didn't pass all classes, he's not eligible for a scholarship even if he could get one according to his grades. Which he can't, because it's the whole reason he fell out of the state financed category. 

And, well. This is why Pottermore doesn't ever sort him into Ravenclaw. Okay, wait. He either needs to rewatch those damned movies or shut up about them, because why is he so obsessed suddenly. Is it the trauma? Probably. Yeah, okay, he should cut himself some slack.

It's only been a month, too.

But birthday-Neteyam decides this is a problem for future-Neteyam.

Right now, he really wants to get out of the flat.

 

---

 

"Has anyone ever given you shit for being gay?"

"Huh?" Neteyam blinks, eyes wide and mouth set in a nervous glench. He stares at Kiri like she just invented fire and he's afraid of being burnt. 

Kiri doesn't repeat herself; the Sully's raised her until Grace woke from her coma, and Neteyam is her best friend, even if they don't get to meet as often now that they're all adults. She knows he just needs a moment to process her question. 

Neteyam eventually shrugs. He purses his lips and then tucks his loose hair behind his ear. "I don't think so. Most people don't know anyway. Why?"

"Well, you know that Spider and Rotxo are both my boyfriends and they are each other's too. Sometimes that makes Spider nervous because of his dad and all."

Neteyam scowls, snatching the bottle sitting between them and taking a long sip. They're sitting by the river on the concrete, watching the starry night reflect on the ground. They're both a little tipsy. "He should read Only the Brave."

Kiri's lips quirk in amusement. "Is that a fanfic?"

Neteyam only nods, chewing on his lower lip.

Kiri leans closer, smiling happily and obviously intrigued. Her head tilts and her bangs cover her brows, due for a little trim. "Is it good? What is it about?"

Neteyam shifts, a little uncomfortable. "Uh. Mostly war. But there's mentions of homophobia, too. It's actually quite refreshing. Better than Disintegrated. I still haven't finished that one, by the way. It's just way too traumatising, but I swear I'll get back to my gay vampire and werewolf soon."

Kiri cackles, sipping from their shared bottle before playfully nudging Neteyam's shoulder with her own. "You know your coping mechanisms are kind of unhealthy, right?"

"Yeah, well." Neteyam gestures to himself with a lazy flick of his wrist. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm twenty-two and still care what Hogwarts house I'm in, so."

"Is that why you got those fake round glasses?"

"No, they were discounted. Irrelevant. I went there to see if they had any ties but they only had a Gryffindor scarf."

Kiri smirks, rolling her eyes. "Never change, baby. I love when you geek out over stuff."

Neteyam flushes, clearing his throat. He averts his gaze. "But how is this a bad coping mechanism?"

Next to him, Kiri heaves a sigh. "No offence, but Disintegrated truly is the one fic where I questioned my own sanity. For you to be reading it now... that's a bit— well, I worry for you. It's a hard read and I know you have no problem reading a million words a day."

Neteyam wilts a little and scratches the back of his neck. "Yeah, well. I'm at the part. I'm taking a break though."

"You mean that part?" Kiri widens her eyes dramatically. "Like, the battle and all?"

Neteyam sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and nods. "I got past the drama, but I still feel properly mind-fucked."

Kiri nods, having read that far herself. She reaches over and pats Neteyam's knee in solidarity. "We should maybe not read so much unhinged crap."

Neteyam pulls a face. "I don't know. Happy endings are not that satisfying. Especially if there's babies." 

Kiri cocks her head to the side and watches Neteyam's face. "What do you mean?"

Neteyam looks personally offended by whatever story he's remembering. "Well, I read for the angst. Mostly. Sometimes for the smut, but that's besides the point. I need unhinged characters to stay unhinged even when they get their happy ending. You can't tell me a murderous wizard who committed at least a million war crimes will suddenly settle down and raise a kid and just not commit any more crimes or murder—"

"You're kinda messed up, Tey," Kiri chuckles, shaking her head fondly. 

Neteyam pauses, hands hovering mid-air. "I never said I wasn't."

"Yeah, well, I love you for it." 

Neteyam possibly beams (he might deny that ever happened, not feeling particularly in touch with his emotions) at her response and reaches up to ruffle her hair happily, sending a fond smile Kiri's way, which she is happy to return. "I love you, too, sis."

They sit in silence for a while before Neteyam squints, turning to face her again. "So what's wrong with my coping mechanisms?"

Kiri cannot resist snorting. "First of all, Ao'nung told me you asked him to choke you—"

"I liked having him grab my throat before all of this, thank you very much—"

"Don't interrupt me or I'll box your ears, brother." Kiri points a threatening finger in Neteyam's face, but she continues smiling. Satisfied by the silence he rewards her with, Kiri continues. "You only ever get obsessed with Harry Potter when something hurts you and you want to escape the real world. And you don't even like vodka but here you are, drinking it plain."

Neteyam heaves a sigh and rubs his forehead. "Well. Can't argue with that one."

Kiri leans back on her arms and stares up at the stars. "We should go to a party sometime. I miss dancing and seeing you in gold eyeliner."

Neteyam cannot help grimacing. "I'd get too wasted and Lo'ak would definitely end up in a bush again."

Kiri pouts. "I just feel like we haven't been having fun like we should be. It all feels way too serious. It felt that way since you guys moved into that flat. I miss Ao'nung and Rotxo dragging us to dorm parties."

Neteyam bites the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, it kinda feels all so far away. We could literally just go live in the dorms again but somehow it still feels like... like that will never happen."

"It's just gone. Over. Can you believe we're so close to graduation, too?" Kiro gestures with her hands helplessly. 

Neteyam stares down at his lap, tracing the seams of his jeans. Distantly, he realises his style is going through some changes. He's taken a liking to business casual over large T-shirts and simple, loose pants. He still doesn't really wear tight clothes unless he wants Ao'nung's brain to short-circuit. He's scared by that — the change he sees in himself — but he doesn't want to be. Ao'nung's still the same old Ao'nung, maybe a bit more mature, but he's still annoyed by the world and a little insecure about his sexuality.

Neteyam hesitates, before lacing his fingers with Kiri's, holding her hand sweetly, comforting the both of them. She gives a reassuring squeeze.

"I feel kind of like shit for not being able to see anyone else today." Neteyam admits more to himself than to her. 

"It's okay. We all understand." 

Neteyam knows they do. But still, he did meet Kiri on his birthday and not his actual blood-brother. Lo'ak texted, and Neteyam couldn't even really find it in himself to reply beyond reacting with a little heart to his message. That's all. He simply felt too sad to even attempt talking to Lo'ak. 

He cried to Ao'nung about it but... well, he just genuinely doesn't know who he is right now. Neteyam feels a little worthless but proud as a peacock all the same.

It's a little bit confusing. 

But so is life, so it's fine. Hopefully, Lo'ak won't mind too much that Neteyam wanted to spend some time alone with Kiri.

At around eleven at night, they decide it's too cold to sit around outside anymore and head back to the apartment hand in hand, bottle empty, hearts full.

Notes:

*Inhales*
*Screams*
I ended up not being thrown from my state financed uni course so I don't have to pay tuition fees BLESS
Like that's literally the only one thing I've got going for me rn, my life's going up in flames atm 🫡

Chapter 78: A/N

Sorry for disappearing. I'm not doing so well these days. I'll update when I can. 

Chapter 79: The Soils of the Earth

Summary:

This part took a long time to write because I just did not have the capacity for the feelings needed to be included BUT the support on my note gave me a lil spark to finish this part today
But unfortunately i dont really know when I'll be able to find energy for the next chapter

---

Neteyam steps aside from the doorway, bowing his head nervously. "I'm sorry I couldn't see you yesterday—"

Lo'ak waves him off, hurrying into the apartment. "No biggie. It's fine. I need to check on my strawberries real quick, give me a minute."

"Oh, Ao'nung has been taking care of them, don't worry," Neteyam hums, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear absent-mindendly. 

Lo'ak pauses, blinking quickly before nodding, a sort of fondness appearing in his eyes for a moment. He lets his shoulders drop and relaxes, sauntering into the living room after shedding his shoes. Neteyam locks the door and follows after his brother wordlessly.

"Where's Ao'nung now?" Lo'ak asks, settling down on the sofa comfortably after setting his bag down by the door of his and Tsireya's room. "He not home?"

Neteyam sits down beside him and drags a blanket across his lap, fiddling with some of its loose strings. "He ran to the store but he hould be back soon enough."

Lo'ak snorts, half-amused but not all the same. Neteyam has no idea what his younger brother found amusing. Lo'ak looks tired, and the skin under his eyes is a little bruised, but aside from that, he seems to be doing alright. He watches his older brother wrap himself in the blanket and leans back, crossing his legs. He watches Neteyam's face, the way his skin started to blossom with small pimples from stress and the way his collarbones are so noticeable from how tense he is at all times. Lo'ak has no doubt Neteyam has constant stomach cramps from how anxious he seems. He seems the most affected out of everyone. Even little Tuktirey is getting better at processing everything and she's stopped crying too much, especially after grandmother Mo'at came around to explain to her the borrowed nature of their energy. 

But Neteyam has locked himself away from everyone. He barely spent a day with Camille and even less with the rest of their extended family. He disappeared pretty much right after the funeral and spent the entire exam season and their winter break cooped up at their shared apartment. 

And he looks like he's been cooped up. That's what worries Lo'ak the most. 

It is usually hard to tell when something is off with Neteyam, he hides it well. Lo'ak has no doubt Neteyam is hiding still, but some of his grief shines through. His hair is a bit messy and definitely needs a wash, and his cheeks have erupted in tiny little pimples, only noticeable in certain light, but Lo'ak can see them. He's sure they're more from stress than bad hygiene. Although, the state of Neteyam's hair... well, Lo'ak doesn't appreciate it, but he's not about to mention it. It would do no good.

"Kiri wants to go to a party," Neteyam comments suddenly, shifting a bit to get more comfortable. 

Lo'ak perks up, catching his lower lip between his teeth. "Oh, really? When?"

Neteyam shrugs. "Don't know yet. Just misses it. For old time's sake."

"I think that's an awesome idea," Lo'ak chirps, suddenly looking a little less heartbroken and Neteyam feels his heart flutter as a little bit of peace soothes the aches.

Lo'ak will be fine.

 

---

 

"Hi, mom." Neteyam wraps her in a tight embrace a couple days later, though it makes his stomach churn — he has been finding it increasingly hard to tolerate physical touch unless it's from Ao'nung. "Where are we going?"

Standing by the car are Lo'ak and Tuktirey, both buzzing with excitement. Neytiri cracks a smile too, sweet and a little sad. She cups Neteyam's cheeks and nuzzles their noses together. "Hi, my son. We are going to somewhere that is in fact a secret. It's your birthday present. I'm sure you will like it, but for now, we can't tell you, of course. Or it won't be a surprise anymore."

"I- It's fine, mom. I don't really need anything."

Neytiri purses her lips for a moment and, for the faintest ghost of time, Neteyam recognises the grief which still rests on her features. She smiles then, warm and bright, like the spring right around the corner (a lie, because there's still two months). But this is what Neytiri's smile reminds Neteyam of. She blossoms if it means keeping her children safe. He suspects she cries when she's alone, though, and that would break his heart a little bit, if he did not also cry in secret. Instead, it brings some comfort, because it means he's not alone. 

"Nonsense, Neteyamur, we're going and you're going to love it once you find out what it is, I am most certain. Come on, get in the car, my son." Neytiri ushers him to the car's door and nudges him until he is sitting the passenger's seat. 

"Alright, alright," Neteyam huffs out a soft laugh at her sudden spike of energy, while Lo'ak grumbles about having to ride in the back like a child despite also having had a birthday recently. Neytiri proceeds to tell him that he already got his present (a car that Jake himself had picked out and wrote a lovely little note for), and therefor he does not have the right to complain. And, she says, besides, Tuk is great company. Lo'ak pulls a sour face at that but clamps his mouth shut and gets in the car.

It's not really a long drive, they just get stuck in traffic. Lo'ak has headphones on, fast asleep, and Tuktirey, in a rare moment of weakness on Neytiri's part, has convinced their mother that she is indeed entitled to play games on Neteyam's phone because she's a big girl now and can properly read everything, too. 

As they inch forward slowly, Neytiri lays a gentle hand on Neteyam's thigh, patting him. He hums, acknowledging her with a tilt of his head. 
Neytiri has been able to be there for Lo'ak and Tuktirey, even Kiri, who visited them often these past few weeks, but as Neteyam locked himself away, she knows he isn't quite as alright as everyone else. Not yet.

Neytiri had her own strongest pillar of support, Mo'at, who had gone through something similar once, long before. She's alright, for the most part. She can do her job and if she doesn't think too hard, she realises that life goes on, despite its hardships, and is beautiful and full of hope depsite it all. She has her children, all little parts of Jake, a gentle reminder that he had been there, and he always will linger on through the blood which flows through their veins. She has Camille and Tommy as well, who are all also parts of Jake in a way. They remind her of him and it brings comfort to know that even in death, we are not really gone. We don't just vanish without a trace. Everyone exists in memories and DNA. On photographs or voice recordings, maybe a secutiry camera image they forgot to delete. The ghost lingers in the ink of a page, a schoolbook or a diary. The signature on official documents. In text messages. In the air. In the richest soils of the Earth. The golden sands of a desert and the wild waves of the deep, wild oceans.

In Eywa.

Forever in Eywa.

She never forgets any of Her children.

Jake lives on in the eyelash blown away by the wind, in the mark his steps left on the concrete and the clothes they'd given away to be worn by the less fortunate. He'll always live on, secure in the passing time.

"Do you understand this, my son?" She asks after she explains all this to Neteyam too, who stares at her, speechless. "We all leave our mark somehow and the universe blesses us by cherishing it, never forgetting that we were once here."

Neteyam struggles to swallow the lump in his throat as her hand comes to rest on his head, caressing gently, ruffling the unbraided strands. He cannot find his voice and she just smiles, kind, loving. The car inches forward slightly, a snail's pace. Neytiri tangles her fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp lightly. Neteyam releases the pressure in his jaw, unaware just how hard he'd been clenching it.

"He's right here," she murmurs, eyes ghosting over the black locks not coiled by tight ringlets, loose in gentle waves. "I know you do not like your hair, but you got it from him."

Neteyam sucks in a sharp breath. "I've been wanting to cut it."

"Hair holds memories," Neytiri replies easily, quietly. The world has faded around them; it's a warm bubble of mother and son sharing grief. One finding comfort in comforting the other as only a parent could. And Neteyam feels ready to accept the comfort. He won't run anymore. He doesn't have to. Jake is right there in his heart.
"If it heals you, cut it. If it helps you remember, then don't. It is up to you and both choices are alright."

Neteyam inhales shakily and nods, closing his eyes as her hand rests on his cheek. "I don't want to remember. And I don't want to braid it anymore. I want to let it be like dad's."

Notes:

To explain the previous note a little bit:

Had a rough few days in which my mother developed such a severe shoulder pain out of nowhere that she couldn't move her arm at all (no actual injury whatsoever), so I had to do a lot of things for her and just didn't have the energy to really write anything. After a lovely trip to the hospital they just gave her painkillers and sent her away like that solves anything.

And our car battery also just gave up so the last couple days I spent 4-5 hours walking across the whole town because she refuses to take the bus but her arm is in a sling so I have to carry everything :")

My mother also likes to blame me for all of her issues and so I've been in an intense state of stress all week and cant go to sleep any earlier than 3 but usually 4 in the morning :') and if I do dare sleep in I get yelled at again so there's this rather hellish cycle going on atm that I really am struggling to handle.

Also have no luck finding a job so that sucks.

And I'm highly suspicious that I have a rather severe mental disorder but can't afford help so there's that

anyway sorry for ranting I use the notes as a diary lol

Also I got accepted into the linguistics minor (good news) but half the classes are literally not even in my uni buildings and I'll have to commute T.T

BUT Idk if I mentioned but I wasn't aware that dorm applications closed in april for september (because last year the deadline was in august) and I thought I couldn't get into the dorms because of that BUT BUT BUT I can in fact get onto a waitlist so I'll only have to commute my daily lil 4 hours for like a month or smth before someone leaves and I can move in :3

side note
I'm currently harboring very fluffy feeling for timothee chalamet and he's been my comfort haha

Chapter 80: Lanterns

Summary:

Thanks for the support babes ♡
I ended up taking a bit of time off from both reading and writing and went to aquaworld w/ some friends, travelled to Vienna w/ my mom (where I wrote some of this chapter haha), and watched some timothee chalamet films 😗❤️
I was originally going to write something devastating but I feel its better for me to move the story along :3

Notes:

Basically, Ao'nung is being the perfect boyfriend again

---

Neteyam's surprise had been a truly sweet getaway with Neytiri and Lo'ak. 

Once he returned back to the apartment, he had felt refreshed, and more aware of his surroundings. Ao'nung had welcomed him back with an excited smile and flashed some plane tickets that had Neteyam actually squeaking in delight before he could even enter their home, jumping into Ao'nung's arms right there in front of Neytiri and Lo'ak, who had yet to step inside the apartment. The force of his excitement had knocked them both to the ground.

"You didn't—" Neteyam gapes, snatching one of the tickets from Ao'nung's hand. "Holy shit, Ao'nung." 

Lo'ak snorts, shaking his head in amused as Neytiri cringes at the swearing from her oldest. 

Ao'nung smiles, averting his gaze. He lies there on the ground with Neteyam draped over his torso. He doesn't say anything, not really sure what he could even say.

"What is it?" Lo'ak asks, settling down next to them, sitting back on his heels and trying to peek at the tickets. 

Neteyam all but beams, holding it up for his little brother to see. "Italy."

"Oh, you're going to Italy?" Neytiri hums with a smile in her voice as she steps past them carefully. "In the winter?"

Neteyam scurries to his feet and steps over to her, wrapping his arms loosely around her shoulders. "Nope. It's for summer."

"I didn't know you wanted to go to Italy," Lo'ak comments, snatching the other ticket from Ao'nung. The surfer sits up with an eyeroll. "How'd you know he wants to go there? He never talks about it."

Neytiri hugs Neteyam back happily, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

Ao'nung shrugs, cheeks tinting. "Uh. He rewatched Call Me by Your Name again and... uh... saved the filming locations on Tiktok."

Neteyam quirks an eyebrow and chuckles, pulling away from Neytiri. He says nothing, but his heart soars.

"And if he watched a movie filmed in China you'd get him tickets there too?" Lo'ak pesters on, squinting at Ao'nung, who doesn't look the least bit embarrassed. 

"Depends on the movie," Ao'nung hums casually, presenting Lo'ak with a smug, boyish smirk. 

"I don't watch movies filmed in China," Neteyam offers from the side, amusement dancing in his soft, tired eyes. "But I do watch some filmed in Korea. Maybe you should take some notes."

Ao'nung gives him a silly little salute and sticks his tongue out to the side. "Yes, sir."

"It was nice of you to buy these tickets," Neytiri murmurs more to herself than to Ao'nung, and if he notices her glassy, far away look, he doesn't show it. He just thanks her softly as Lo'ak rattles on about airplanes and how much better they are than trains in the background. 

 

---

 

Ao'nung loves him; he always has. There is no question about it. Neteyam has always been the brightest star on the night sky — he is powerful and terrifying and beautiful all at the same time. Neteyam is a treasure. 

The Metcayina say the Great Mother does not have favourites, but Ao'nung is certain She created Neteyam with Her own love through the bodies of Neytiri and Jake. 

Neteyam isn't just a single star among the many — he's a constellation of freckles, scars, bunny teeth and vitiligo. If he was a creature, he'd be an ikran, but not just any. He'd have been Toruk, respected for many lifetimes.  

Ao'nung likes to believe that everything is real. The tulkun, though nobody's ever really seen one, must be real somewhere. So much of the world is yet undiscovered. And so, Ao'nung believes in the ikran, and tulkun, the palulukan. All of these creatures live in his heart alongside Neteyam and all his beauty. 

Neteyam is beautiful. He's full of grace and fierceness, and yet he's goofy and tender all at the same time. 

Ao'nung knows they are soulmates. There is no other explanation to how easily they fit together. 

Ao'nung adores him in his happiness and in his grief. Ao'nung will never stop loving Neteyam, no matter what happens. Neteyam could scream and cry and trash around in his sleep, drain all of Ao'nung's energy and yet Ao'nung will stay glued to his side like moth drawn to flame. 

If Ao'nung was an insect, he thinks to himself, he'd be a mosquito — and Neteyam is the only sweet man with blood coursing through his veins.

Neteyam has changed a lot throughout the years — there were times when he was shy and quiet and never attempted conversation. Then he blossomed and even joined a talent show at their former high school. And then the next year he'd be serious, coming to school dressed in business casual. 

Neteyam changes with each passing season. 

One summer he'd read classics, and the next he'd read not a single book, only fanfiction.  

One day he might harbor an intense love for mangoes, and the next, he'd forget all about it and turn to passion fruits. And then he'll forget how entirely unimpressed he is with strawberries because they look so much better than they taste and that's offensive. 

Neteyam is a poem. 

No, he is a collection of lines stolen from them. If Ao'nung had to collect them all, they would go something like this:

"I am out with lanterns looking for myself."

 Or perhaps: 

 "Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."

Yes, Ao'nung knows this one by heart, he's seen it as Neteyam's lock screen, he's seen it scribbled absently in a notebook and saw Neteyam save it in a little collection of his favourite quotes. 

"Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final."

Neteyam knows poets and writers Ao'nung has never heard of. He's read books and poems that Ao'nung cannot comprehend, try as he might. 

Neteyam knows Rilke, Voltaire, Valeria Koch. He's read every single book from the Brontë sisters. He can recite Emily Dickinson from the heart. He's suffered his way through Crime and Punishment and romanticised Wuthering Heights. He'd forget himself in between the rows of bookshelves in the library reading Feuchtwanger. 

Ao'nung loves Neteyam. 

And he loves everything Neteyam loves. He'll read every poem, every book, and memorise every quote if it means understanding him better. 

Ao'nung would read not only those. He'd read All the Young Dudes, and Disintegrated, and just lovers (like we were supposed to be), as well as Only the Brave. 

Ao'nung would write his very own poem about Neteyam, but he doesn't know how. Perhaps one day he'll try. 

He might just try.

 

---

 

As the months passed, the skies cleared and Neteyam finally felt, after a long long winter, come spring, that he once more could breathe again. 

He'd felt the lightest he ever did on the first few heated days of spring, in the beginning of the semester. 

Christmas had been a blur, as was New Year's. Neteyam can barely remember any of it even happened. He'd slipped away, disconnected from reality for a long while, just drifting through life, merely existing. He came to realise that one day he too will be gone, and though that is the way of life, and the will of Eywa, he doesn't want to be forgotten. He will be, eventually, but for now, he wants to make the most of the world and his life — and that includes travelling whenever he can. 

Though he's inherited quite a bit, Ao'nung convinced him that he doesn't need to pay for anything (except his share of the bills and food), because Tonowari doesn't check what Ao'nung spends his money on. Money that Ao'nung was given by his parents. So, technically, the Metcayina decided that Neteyam should just sit back and relax. 

And Neteyam cannot remember the number of road trips Ao'nung had taken him on (for there were too many, and for some he was in a heavy state of dissociation too). He got to live out his passenger princess fantasies and one time even got to navigate and entire trip in German when Ao'nung decided to rent a car in Germany. 

One thing Neteyam noticed about himself is the shift in his music taste. And the many new poems he's read. Mainly Oscar Wilde's works and Shakespeare Sonnets. Ones he's never read before. 

All in all, he feels kind of free. 

School is hard. As always. But he doesn't feel like giving up. Not anymore.

Neteyam thinks he's changing. He doesn't feel so young anymore, like he's stuck being seventeen. It's a strange feeling. The floating maturity of his early-twenties wrap around his shoulders like a silk scarf misted with morning dew, droplets sinking into his skin, seeping deep into his core and strengthening him.

He can say now, without lying, that some days, he is genuinely happy. He's okay. He's healing. 

He's healing from the traumas of double majoring, of failing a class and losing sight of who he is. He's healing from the greatest losses of his life and opens his arms wide the let in the new things the world has to offer. 

He is no longer wingless — he was a flightless bird but now he's with prosthetics. He can fly. 

And he shall.

He used to be so scared to truly post pictures of himself online because the people he went to highschool with would see. He knows he'll be judged, but in a way, he accepts this. Who cares if they see? Let them. He cannot control what people think of him. He won't even try. 

So now, Neteyam posts aesthetic little photos of his belly button piercings, of his painted nails or unbraided hair. He accepts himself and writes a short little paragraph under a photo of himself standing next to Jake to remember him by. He posts in his story more often and tags whoever he's with. 

It's a small thing, but it helps him accept himself, for before Ao'nung, he never really could. 

He remembers being a young boy feeling so out of place when everyone his age would start whispering about their crushes. He never dared say if he found a boy sweet. 

But now he does. 

And he makes sure everyone who cares enough to look at his posts knows just how proud he is to be Ao'nung's. 

Yes, he is Ao'nung's. He likes being someone's something. He likes being owned, in a sense. Ao'nung owns his heart. And in exchange, he hands over the keys to the doors which lock away his most private thoughts and lays himself bare in front of Neteyam. 

And if Neteyam belongs to Ao'nung, then Ao'nung belongs to Neteyam, too.

They are each other's everything. Now and until the very last star burns out along the skylines.

Notes:

One of my favourite vloggers replied to my dm im swooning for the next 5-6 business years dhdjdjdjd

Italy or wedding first? *lenny face*

Side note
If I shared my personal insta would anyone care to be moots there or smth?

Chapter 81: Men and Women

Summary:

A little look inside Neteyam's brain and an even littler look into Ao'nung's.

Notes:

Sat down to scribble some words in my notes app and accidentally wrote this entire chapter in one go 💀

Neteyam is not a hard person to love; in fact, he has always been quite lovely. Quiet and lovely. Quite quiet and lovely. Neteyam is the words embodied of the poems Ao'nung has always been too shy to write.
No, not really shy — Ao'nung is actually rather far from being shy. At least, he thinks so.

"Does it ever bother you that I am not gay?" He blurts out one day in a rather unshy manner, lazing on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and the TV switched on to Animal Planet. It's shark week.

Neteyam, perplexed, turns his head at look at Ao'nung, eyebrows raised. "Does it bother you that I am?"

Ao'nung squints at him from the corner of his eye. "No. Why would it?"

"Exactly." Neteyam steals some of his popcorn and turns back to the screen, hugging Payakan and rubbing his feet together. He's wearing Ao'nung's socks (that he's stolen from his drawer) because he couldn't find any of his own. Neteyam suspects it; Ao'nung knows it's Lo'ak's prank.

"It's not the same," Ao'nung grumbles, licking salt off his fingers. He smears it onto his pants a little ignoring Neteyam's nose wrinkle (because really, Neteyam has no right to look at him like he's just committed to some heinous acts because Ao'nung has caught him multiple times simply tearing off his toenail growth rather than clipping it like any normal person).

Neteyam sits up slightly. "Explain it to me then. Why is it different?"

Ao'nung sniffles, just coming out of a bit of a cold he's caught swimming in the river before the weather got warm. "I don't know. It just feels invalid."

Neteyam, patient as ever (and how could he be anything but patient with a brother like Lo'ak), merely prompts him to keep talking, laying a hand on Ao'nung's shoulder. He understands that Ao'nung struggles with his sexuality, and often represses emotions.

With Lo'ak and Tsireya out on date night, Ao'nung feels it easier to voice his thoughts. He doesn't think Lo'ak would understand, because he's never really struggled with this the way Ao'nung has. Not to say he hasn't struggled at all. Just for different reasons. At least, as far as Ao'nung knows.

"I feel like nobody would understand that I still find some women attractive simply because I've never really dated one." Ao'nung scratches the back of his head. "It doesn't really matter, I guess, because I don't want to either, but I feel freaked out whenever someone implies it."

"People have been implying it?" Neteyam frowns. "Implying what?"

Ao'nung stiffens. He clears his throat and fiddles with the remote. "That I can't be bisexual because I'm not dating a woman. Or ever have."

"Ignore them—" Neteyam almost snaps, annoyed that anyone would bother Ao'nung about things that don't really concern anyone but the two of them. "It's not their business to decide that for you."

"That's the thing." Ao'nung rubs a hand over his face, coughing lightly. "I don't want to ignore them. I don't want— I don't know. It's a part of me, liking men and women both. I don't want it erased just because I'm not in a relationship like Rotxo is."

Neteyam nods along, chewing on his lower lip. "Just like how you don't want your masculinity to be erased just because you like certain feminine things?"

Ao'nung pauses, face relaxing completely and eyes going blank. Is that what that is? Had that been his problem all along? When he refocuses his eyes, he sees Neteyam with that gentle, wise smile on his face that he's developed since losing Jake. He opens his mouth but finds himself at a loss for words, like a poet whose ink never has stained paper.

Neteyam continues smiling, waiting, patient. Like he's known all along. Like he's been through all of this before. Ao'nung frowns. He has, hasn't he? There was a time Neteyam didn't paint his nails, or wore purple, or plucked his brow, or shaved his legs. There was a time Neteyam was just a boy. A boy doing standard training because his father was in the military. A boy who knows how to fly army jets and who can shoot an arrow with terrifying precision, a boy who is so good at rock climbing he almost didn't go to university to become a professional.

Now Neteyam is all of those things and a boy who did ballet, a boy who paints his nails, a boy who lays out outfits on the bed before packing it for travelling so he knows exactly what he'll wear each day of the trip and with what accessories. A boy who does skincare sometimes, a boy who had his facial hair removed with laser treatment just like Ao'nung because he didn't like how it looked natural. He's a boy who cooks what his mother taught him and irons his shirts, never letting Tsireya or Neytiri do it.

But he still knows how to change a light bulb and has picked apart the plumbing when there had been a clog in the kitchen. He's changed doorknobs and has in fact put together a digital piano for a classmate and he's still the boy who does feminine things all the while embracing that he's a man still.

Is that what Ao'nung wants, too?

"I—" he breathes out, winded. "I don't want any part of me erased."
And Neteyam continues smiling that gentle, wise smile. "But you're erasing parts of you yourself."

"Am I?"

"Don't you grumble about having to do things despite those things being the things you love to do?"

"What?" Ao'nung holds back a cough, sniffling again. It's definitely from the cold he's healing from.

Neteyam chuckles, hand inching up, resting on the back of Ao'nung's neck. "You grumble when Tsireya sits you down to redo your braids, but you take pride in those very braids. You roll your eyes when you have to water Lo'ak's plants if he's gone for a few days, but you still remember what he named each one. That's not something even I remember, Ao'nung. Or Tsireya. You like it when Tsireya asks you to help her pick out an outfit but pretend to be so so annoyed through it all."

Ao'nung stays silent, mouth running dry. Suddenly the sharks on TV aren't all that interesting. He sighs. "I am always annoyed, aren't I?"

"But it's more than that, isn't?" Neteyam asks curiously. "I remember you being so upset whenever Tsireya would invite her friends."

"Her friends are my friends—"

"I'm talking about Eyrina. You did make a huge fuss out of her name, remember?"

Ao'nung stutters helplessly. "I might have done that."

Neteyam chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're always so jealous of people unafraid to be themselves, Nungie. You didn't like her because she didn't mind that people called her a silly nickname."

Ao'nung's brows furrow and he frowns deeply, comforted only by Neteyam's gentle hand on the back of his neck, massaging slowly.
"I'm afraid to be my parents' son."

"Why?" Neteyam tilts his head, eyes wide and open, ready to accept anything Ao'nung might say.

"Because they are so perfect."

Neteyam coos softly, shifting onto his knees beside Ao'nung and cupping both his cheeks, guiding them to face one another. "Their perfection doesn't outshine yours."

"I'm not perfect—" Ao'nung protests, trying to pull away, but to no avail.

Neteyam leans down, touching their noses together. Ao'nung sniffles again, jostling them both. "No, you're a person. But people are perfect."

"What about the killers?" Ao'nung wrinkles his nose.

"Are you a killer?" Neteyam retorts.

Ao'nung shakes his head.

"I do not view killers to be people," Neteyam murmurs, a faraway look in his eyes. Ao'nung realises his mistake. Jake had been a soldier when he died. Ao'nung didn't mean to stir up barely-faded memories.

Before he can stop himself, he keeps talking. "What about self defense murder—"

But Neteyam just shrugs, hands trailing down to hold Ao'nung's shoulders. He sits on his heals so they're eyelevel. "I don't view that as murder."

"Is it really that simple?" Ao'nung asks.

"To me it is." Neteyam caresses the skin peaking out from under Ao'nung's T-shirt, watching his own fingers patter along tan skin. "You lose your humanity when you hurt someone just for the sake of hurting them. And you stop being a person in my eyes when you've taken someone's life just to take it. Some things you can redeem, you can grow and... be different. But not everything can be fixed, and not every wrong can be righted."

"Not every wrong..." Ao'nung trails off.

Neteyam switches to fiddling with Ao'nung's curls. "Some things can be forgiven with time and remorse from the wrong-doer. Some things cannot. I can forgive someone calling me names in elementary school, but I can never forgive someone for breaking into our old house and forcing my brother to attack them as it was the only way for him to survive."

Ao'nung lowers his gaze, heart heavy. Where had all this come from? How is Neteyam so sure of himself and his views on the world? Why is Ao'nung not like that? And would he ever become like that?

"For a long time I too could not accept myself for liking things my sisters like," Neteyam admits in a frail whisper. "I tried to hide it, and I tried hard not to be the stereotype, but I am, and that's fine. I'm a gay man who did ballet and paints his nails. I'm skinny and I have long hair, longer than yours, and many would consider me the woman in our relationship. That's fine by me."

"But you're not a woman," Ao'nung whispers back, the room dimming as the night falls. No light is on beside the TV screen.

"Well, I have an opinion on this, too. One I find quite simple."

"Okay."

Neteyam smiles again (and why is he smiling so much, Ao'nung wonders). He continues caressing Ao'nung's skin ever-so tenderly. "There is this obsession to always pick one person to be the woman in the relationship when it comes to a gay couple. I see it often in fanfiction. He's always feminised, more than he is in the cannon, where he might not be at all in fact feminine, he's just prettier than his partner. Maybe shorter. So he's the always the bottom, very rarely a switch. They might make him whiny and helpless and pretty and sweet and the things women are typically portrayed as."

Ao'nung listens, intrigued.

"I don't really get it," Neteyam sighs out tiredly. "When it comes to a gay couple, neither is the woman. They're both men. The say way when it comes to two women. They're both women. Unless they identify otherwise. So why must all these men be feminised and the female characters in the same shows always ignored or villainised? And if we hate women so much that we break up straight cannon ships and put together men instead, then why do we always make one of the men be considered the woman?"

"Wow, that's..." Ao'nung breathes out, winded. "I never realised that was a problem."

Neteyam shrugs, as though he hadn't just been talking about things Ao'nung finds absolutely gut-wrenching. But Neteyam is fairly desensitised. He looks at things, level-headed, and doesn't let himself be angered by things he cannot change, try as he might. Ao'nung thinks all of his anger might have left him with his grief, which is less and less present as the days go by.

"You don't realise it's a problem because you don't hate women nor read fanfiction."

Ao'nung cannot argue with that. So he offers a sheepish grin.

"But, to answer your question, I do not mind that you are bi." Neteyam tangles his fingers in the surfer's hair, playing with the curls.

A soft laugh bursts from Ao'nung. "That's good."

Notes:

This part was brought to you by Ao'nung's inner struggles with himself *bows*

Side note: it has occurred to me that unlike the readers, most characters Ao'nung interacts with have no idea just how deep his inner monologue goes because our boy hardly ever voices his thoughts.
He's really out here memorising everything about everyone and making connections with flowers and all that and nobody even knows he does that 🤧

Chapter 82: Future Plans

Summary:

First update of the season 🧡☀️🍁

Notes:

Regular updates should be back soon because I start school tomorrow and I'll have more time between classes and when I'm travelling (cause I'm on a dorm waitlist rip🙃) to write ✍️

---

Ao'nung walks into their bedroom and blinks, pausing in the doorway. Neteyam is in there, and he's looking absolutely suspicious. At least, to Ao'nung.

He's got teal nails in the color•me Summer Seashore shade and the colour absolutely glows against the darkness of his skin. He's wearing a crystal bracelet of his birthstone (Ao'nung doesn't know what kind of stone that is, but he knows they're an exquisite shade of blue). His hair is down and fluffy — it's shorter than it used to be, but still hangs down his back in gentle, loose waves and frizz.

And he is shirtless. Great Mother, he's shirtless and wearing a brand new piercing. It has a wonderful dangly bit with a blue crystal — silver. Real silver, probably, because sometimes Neteyam cannot resist luxuries (and his skin is sensitive to any metals other than gold and silver). It looks like it could belong on a queen's crown.

He smiles at Ao'nung and there's something in that smile that is absolutely frightening (but in a good way) and suddenly Ao'nung is no longer thinking with his brain, but the desires curling in his core.

"What are you doing?" He breathes out, pupils wide, when he notices teal eyeliner smudges tastefully around Neteyam's eyes. And, dear Lord, he looks like he just came alive from the cover of a magazine.

Ao'nung has never really imagined he'd appreciate a man dressed so femininely — but something about Neteyam makes it look so natural. It's just who he is. He doesn't care about gender norms. (Or he does, because he always holds open doors for ladies and offers to carry their bags. But that's different.)

Neteyam saunters over to Ao'nung, tongue flicking over his lower lip. When he's close, he places a soft hand on Ao'nung's shoulder. "I heard you arrive. Nobody else is here."

Ao'nung gulps. "Oh yeah? And what do you have planned?"

Neteyam smirks and it's such a manly expression, a wild contrast to all the soft, dainty, beautiful things along his body. "I stretched a little while you were gone and felt inspired."

"Stretched?" Ao'nung parrots, forgetting his brain for a second as his mind wanders to all these different images. "Is that why you're dressed like that?"

Neteyam tilts his head, biting his lower lip. "Like what?"

Ao'nung's mouth falls open, eyelids drooping. He puffs out breaths through his mouth, placing a hand over Neteyam's on his shoulder. He tangles their fingers, and his fingertip brushes the darling little ring on Neteyam's finger. His breath hitches when Neteyam uses his other hand to cup the back of his neck and tugs him closer. So close — and yet their lips don't touch.

Ao'nung grips Neteyam's waist with his free hand and takes a few steps forward, making him back up. "Like that."

Neteyam grins, eyes squinting, pupils wide. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Don't you?" Ao'nung teases, fingers trailing along a vitiligo patch that has snuck onto Neteyam's side and a bit of his belly over the last few months, swirling like gentle clowns and tiger stripes. "You don't wear low wasted things to dance, darling."

Neteyam inhales shakily as Ao'nung hooks a finger in the tight, black shorts he's wearing and tugs at his waistband. "I felt like trying something new."

Ao'nung hums, eyes focusing on those slender hips. "They could have been shorter."

In fact, Ao'nung thinks, they could simply just not be on Neteyam's body at all.

"They're only to my knees, Nungie," Neteyam murmurs tenderly, watching Ao'nung fiddle with his shorts.

Ao'nung hums in agreement. "Exactly. Too long."

Neteyam lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head. "Why don't you do something about that, then?"

Ao'nung smirks this time, standing a little straighter. "Oh, believe me, handsome. I will."

Neteyam bites the inside of his cheek and glances to the side, trying to hide a silly little grin. "You think I'm handsome?"

Ao'nung snorts at the obvious teasing lacing Neteyam's voice. He grips Neteyam's hips with both hands and nudges him until he's pressed against a wall, check to check with Ao'nung. "You're my little Prince."

"That's not the same thing," Neteyam retorts, nose scrunching.

Ao'nung coos at him, fake and playful. "What's wrong, Tey? Do you want to be called pretty?"

Neteyam juts out his lower lip, extravagant. "As a matter of fact, yes, I do. So compliment me or I shall wither."

Ao'nung takes a moment to bite back a chortle and hides his face in Neteyam's hair. "Georgous."

"That all you got?" Neteyam chirps, fingers tangling in Ao'nung's curls. "How are you going to woo me with such little—"

His voice cuts off in a moan as Ao'nung presses their hips together. "I think I'm doing quite good, considering you're all ready for me and I wasn't even home."

"Lies—" Neteyam whines out, head tilting back. Ao'nung rocks against him slowly, watching with great interest how Neteyam hands himself over to the pleasure.

Slowly, he tugs off Neteyam's shorts only to be met with nothing underneath. He curses under his breath and watches as Neteyam's erection stands up proud and beading with precum between them. Ao'nung traces the glistening tip with a finger and ghosts his lips along Neteyam's jaw, peppering it light kisses.

"Doesn't seem like a lie to me. Look at you, all needy."

"Ah shit, why don't you ever talk like this to me—"

"You like it, Tey?"

"Fuck. Yes, I do, Ao'nung. Very much."

"I can see that," Ao'nung whispers in his ear, fingers slipping around Neteyam's cock, squeezing gently before slowly, teasingly, he begins the jerking the archer off. Neteyam arches into the touch, hips shifting helplessly.

Neteyam moans lowly, voice raspy. He clutches at Ao'nung's upper arms helplessly. "I want you to wreck me."

"Wreck you?" Ao'nung repeats, grinning against the soft skin of Neteyam's cheek. "Do you want me to fuck you until you forget your own name? Until your pretty eyeliner is all smudged?"

Neteyam's hips jerk forward, every muscle in his bare legs twitching. He groans in need, but Ao'nung's hand refuses to pick up the pace. "Shit, Ao'nung. Yes."

"And what else do you want, darling?" Ao'nung murmurs against his skin, kissing the flushed cheek under his lips.

"Kiss me," Neteyam breathes out, voice trembling slightly in need.

Ao'nung complies — tenderly, he trails a hand up along Neteyam's throat, holding him by the jaw with his fingers and tilting his head to the side slightly. He presses his lips to Neteyam's ever so lightly and Neteyam's eyes fall shut. He moans into Ao'nung's mouth, thighs trembling in pleasure as the surfer continues to pleasure him.

"I don't think you know how much I love you," Ao'nung whispers against Neteyam's mouth.

Neteyam hums, eyes closed and head tilting to the side. "I do know, Nung."

"I don't say it much," Ao'nung mumbles against his skin again, gently, tenderly, earlier feisty fireworks fading into tame sparks, little embers floating up towards the sky.

Neteyam cups his cheeks and kisses him slowly. He pulls back, voice faint, panting slightly. "Your actions are enough."

"But I want you to know," Ao'nung protests, lips puckering from Neteyam's hands on his face.

"I already know." Neteyam smiles sweetly.

Ao'nung's brows draw together; he holds Neteyam by the hips, ignoring the dark-skinned male's quiet protests at the loss of pleasure. "But you don't know it enough."

"Don't I?" He asks, amusement dancing in his pale brown gaze. "But if I were to ask you questions about myself, you'd know all the answers."

Ao'nung pauses, thinking for a moment. "Just because I know the answers doesn't mean you know I love you."

Neteyam huffs out a laugh. "But I do know that you love me. Even on days you don't say it."

Ao'nung shakes his head in disbelief (he forgets to protest Neteyam's nimble fingers taking off his clothes until he's clad in absolutely nothing). "That's impossible."

Neteyam snorts now, loud and a little annoyed. "Ao'nung, darling. You took me abroad to propose to me and managed to hire a photographer there."

Ao'nung's cheeks flush. He bites the inside of his mouth and squeezes Neteyam's hips. "Anyone would do the same."

Neteyam cocks his head. "Would they? Your expectations are high."

"Rotxo would. Or Spider. Or Lo'ak—"

Neteyam silences him with a kiss, tongue flicking over Ao'nung's upper lip playfully. "Because they're sweet guys. But a lot of people would not go to the lengths you went."

"But you don't know how much I want to say!" Ao'nung bursts out, wide-eyed and frantic. This time. He's the one who cups Neteyam's face and leans closer, noses touching.

Neteyam smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. He lays a palm flat against Ao'nung's cheek and caresses the soft skin under the surfer's eye with his thumb. "So tell me, then."

His shoulders slump. "But I can't. I don't know how. I don't have the words."

Neteyam nuzzles their noses together slowly, arms coming to wrap around Ao'nung's shoulders. He rarely does this — in fact, Neteyam doesn't really hug people face to face at all. Ao'nung stores this fact away in the back of his mind and allows his arms to snake around Neteyam's waist, pulling him closer, chest to chest.

They're both naked. Just standing there. Hearts beating against one another.

Neteyam's eyes fall shut. "But you know all the answers to all my questions. You know me better than I know myself. More than I know you."

Ao'nung makes a noise of protest but Neteyam shushes him gently. He rests his cheek against Ao'nung's shoulder.

"Our minds are different. You remember what I like, what I don't like, things I feel, rather than the things I do. You remember my mind." Neteyam heaved a sigh, leaning on Ao'nung. "I remember things you say, and things you do. The physical things. I remember more of what happens in the real world than what happens in your head."

"Because I think with my heart but you think with your brain."

Neteyam nods along. "Yeah. I think that's fine."

Ao'nung nods slowly.

"I still want you to wreck me."

Ao'nung rolls his eyes.

 

---

 

"So, I was thinking." Neteyam plops down next to Ao'nung one Saturday morning in the early days of summer.

Ao'nung looks up from his phone, head tilting to the side curiously. "Yes?"

"We could visit one more country before or after Italy in one trip." Neteyam pulls his legs up onto the sofa, an excited twinkle in his eyes, lips curled up in a pleasant, held-back smile.

"We're flying from here," Ao'nung hums, setting his phone to the side and turning halfway to face Neteyam. "We would have to come back if we go before."

Neteyam pouts, squinting his eyes as he thinks, bunny teeth worrying at his lower lip. "Did you buy return tickets?"

"No," Ao'nung replies, leaning back comfortably and stretching his legs out. He rests his cheek against a knuckle propped up on the sofa. "I wanted you to be able to decide how much time you want to spend in Italy."

Neteyam beams, the twinkling in his eyes brightening. "We could visit Austria. My aunt and uncle just went and they said it was great. It shouldn't be too hot, either. At least, I don't think it gets nearly as hot as here or Italy."

Ao'nung glances to the side, biting his lower lip. "But we'll pay to book our seats together, right? I'm not a fan of flying."

Neteyam nods eagerly. "Have you ever flown before?"

"Did we fly to Budapest?"

Neteyam blinks. "Wow. I can't remember. Can you?"

Ao'nung smiles sheepishly. "I remember being on the bus for a bit, but honestly, I only remember what we did there, not how we got there."

"Which airport are we going to fly to?" Neteyam tilts his head; he waits patiently for Ao'nung to unlock his phone and open the Ryanair app.

"Marco Polo—" Ao'nung begins, and Neteyam is immediately following suit in unlocking his phone and entering the maps app. "That's really close to Venice, isn't it?"

"Don't you want to visit the filming locations for—"

"Not really," Neteyam cuts in, excitedly buzzing in place. "I've seen them on film and TikToks more than enough times. I want to see bigger cities."

Ao'nung chuckles. "Let's go see bigger cities then."

Neteyam beams. "And a beach."

Ao'nung agrees easily.

Notes:

Kiri is apparently INFP like me I feel warm and fuzzy

Chapter 83: San Benedetto (Pompelmo)

Summary:

I went to Italy dhwjsjfhd
So I'll be able to bring a very accurate chapter about that 😌
By complete coincidence, my mom decided we should go on one last trip before school and she's obsessed with Italy so that's where we went
Can't believe my luck with that sksksk

Notes:

I present you all with more of my favourite quotes because im in my poetry/classical works era😁

---

If Neteyam changes with each passing season, then Ao'nung changes with every hour.

Just last year, he was running around campus, living in a dorm, attending every party hosted near him — sleeping in his father's car and accidentally sleeping with Neteyam. He still dressed the same, of course, unlike Neteyam, who's slowly started slipping into a more formal style — less and less does he wear baggy T-shirts, and even less jeans. He keeps his hair thinly braided, and his jewellery has taken a drastically cultural turn. He hasn't, of course, taken out his belly button piercing, but Ao'nung hasn't seen him paint his nails or really wear any make-up at all since summer started.

He's not complaining — he loves Neteyam all the same. He just notices things. 

Neteyam has gotten a bit restless. It's his last summer without a job, he's informed Ao'nung. He wants to feel like he's doing something with his life.

He has calmed down somewhat. The idea of going to university doesn't overwhelm him as much as it did before. Perhaps it's because he realised that he isn't going to live forever, and one day, when he's old, he doesn't want to look back on his life and remember all the darkness seeping into it. The pain, the loss. No, Neteyam wants to remember happiness.

Ao'nung just wants to remember how much he loves Neteyam. 

Lately, Ao'nung has been worried about dying, about life ending and being forgotten. He loves living, he loves being alive and experiencing things. He wants to be remembered, if just by a few people. He wants the Great Mother to aid him in leaving his mark on the universe. Sincerely, he wishes he could live to be one hundred and fifty years old, even more. But he cannot, sadly. And he wants the tulkun to be real, hidden somewhere in the undiscovered oceans. 

One day, maybe he'll discover them. With his dad's help. Because he's just a broke university student. Ish. (His dad's rich.)

Ao'nung hopes that a degree in biology is enough for that. And he's discovered a new desire within himself. He wants to do a masters and then have a doctorate (or however you say that in proper English. Ao'nung isn't entirely sure). Perhaps marine biology. 

And because he often sees Neteyam reading, whether it be classics or poems, Ao'nung has taken a liking to quotes from those works. He won't read the actual works themselves, but he's made a Pinterest account just to save all of his favourite ones in a collection. Neteyam doesn't know. And Ao'nung doesn't want to tell him, because he's embarrassed. 

He might share one or two with his fiancé though.

Just a few. 

Here goes nothing.

"You are so brave and quiet, I forget you are suffering." 

Neteyam lifts his gaze from the book on his lap, lips parted in slight surprise. At first, his eyes don't find Ao'nung and he appears a little disoriented, as though he's lost himself somewhere between the ink on the pages, fluttering between the lines and the curves of each letter, capital or otherwise. 

"Hemingway?"

Ao'nung ignores the burning heat in his cheeks and clears his throat. (Secretly, he's impressed that Neteyam can recognise the author from a single line, because Ao'nung never will posses this ability.) "I suck at expressing my feelings so, I collected some quotes." 

Neteyam perks up, folding the page he's been reading clean in half and setting his now closed book down. Bruce Cumings, Korea's Place in the Sun.

"Let's hear them."

Ao'nung nods, uneasiness stirring in his stomach. "This one is Kafka. He said: I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself."

And Neteyam listens.

Christa Wolf once said that: "I felt there was no point in telling anyone anything that was happening inside of me."

Ao'nung realises he feels so much more than he lets show. He notices things he never ends up mentioning. And he doesn’t know why. His parents have always encouraged him to be open about his emotions, and he's never been disciplined for feelings something just because someone didn't like it. His mother may not always agree with his dramatics and tantrums, but she never disregarded his feelings. And Tsireya always speaks her mind. 

If Ao'nung was a quote, it could be:

"I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don't ask me who I am."

Or perhaps: 

"I don't feel particularly proud of myself. But when I walk alone in the woods or lie in the meadows, all is well." 

Or maybe even:

"My soul bleeds and the blood steadily, silently, disturbingly slowly,  swallows me whole."

"Have you ever tried writing a poem of your own, Nung?" Neteyam asks gently, pale brown eyes shining with nothing but love.

"I tried." His cheeks blotch red. "It's on my phone, but it's not really anything worth mentioning."

"Would you show me if I asked?" Neteyam asks in a whisper. Would you show me your soul, if I only just opened my mouth? 

Ao'nung stutters helplessly, before heaving a sigh and nodding, jaw set in his nervousness. He finds his poem and hands his phone over with shaky fingers. Neteyam caresses his wrist with the faintest ghost of a touch before taking it from him.

Then, he reads.

"You are the golden heart 

beating so fiercely inside my chest;

Honey in my tea so hot to soothe the ache

 inside my swollen-tonsiled throat;

You are the melody my fingers play on monochrome, 

unforgotten for years to come;

You are the pen I buy over and over

shall the ink run dry;

You are the tissue I cry into 

the book I never can forget,

resting on my shelf to be read again."

For a moment, there's silence and Ao'nung wonders if he's written something wrong (because his poem is about Neteyam).

"It's—" he clears his throat. "It's about you."

 Discreetly, Neteyam tries to wipe at his eyes.

"I know."

 

---

 

A beep sounds, startling Ao'nung out of his slumber. He lets out a quiet snort and rubs at his face, lips bumper than usual from his nap. "What's that?" 

Neteyam nudges him and points to the light above their heads. "Put your seatbelt on—" 

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is cabin crew speaking. The captain has issued to put your seatbelts on for you—" 

Ao'nung pales, reaching down to fiddle with his seatbelt, only to find it fastened, the rest of the flight attendants voice slurring slightly as she speaks a bit too fast on the speakers. He cannot understand her

"It's nothing. Probably just some turbulence." Neteyam lays a comforting hand on his thigh. He sets his phone on his own lap, half-edited video playing on loop (he's making it for a friend's birthday). "Happens all the time." 

Ao'nung nods, lips pursed, eyes just a little wide, giving away how little those words bring comfort to him. Neteyam continues to rest a hand on his leg, massaging lightly to comfort him, but still not wanting to be too affectionate in public, just in case. "If you're sure. You're the pilot." 

Discreetly, in his head, Ao'nung wonders if the army jets Neteyam has learnt to fly are any different to normal airplanes, beyond the size — he makes a mental note to do some research once he no longer has to keep his phone in flight mode, and doesn't ask questions. The emergency exits are right in front of their seats. He'll be fine. He hopes. 

The noise goes off again, a little ding, and he's free to undo his seatbelt. He doesn't. But he calms down a little. He prefers land transport, of that he is sure. He should ask Tonowari to buy him a small boat. Would it even be allowed for him to just travel around on the ocean? Probably not. He'd need a licence, most likely. 

"Are you alright, Nung?" Neteyam asks, na'vi rolling off his tongue with ease. He's one of the only dark-skinned people on the plane, and he's noticed people trying to discreetly look at him. He's taken to using his first language, even if their dialects differ a little from Ao'nung's own. Everyone he asked at the airport spoke English of course. He prefers not being listened to by curious strangers. He does enjoy the occasional German, though (sue him, he doesn't get to speak it often, so he listens).

Ao'nung nods slowly, arm covered in goosebumps despite the pleasant temperatures on the plane. "Never better." 

He feels a bit like someone boxed him on the ears and fluffed the inside of his head with cotton. 

Neteyam hums. "You know it's fine to be nervous, yeah?" 

"You're not nervous," Ao'nung frowns. 

Neteyam shrugs. "I prefer to be the one to do the flying. And it's too dark outside, so I can't see anything." 

"You're nervous?" Ao'nung perks up. 

Neteyam bites back a smile, heart fluttering at the hopeful look on Ao'nung's face. "A bit." 

"Okay." 

"You know, when we land, and enter Venice, the first thing I'm going to do is buy a San Benedetto. Preferably Pompelmo flavoured." 

"What's a pompelmo, Tey?" 

"Uh— I don't actually know." 

Notes:

Heh
I wrote Ao'nung a poem (ish)

Also, first day of school is officially over. I was so excited I couldn't sleep and came 1.5 hours early 🤣

Chapter 84: Venice Venice

Summary:

Who wants to move to Italy with me :DDD
I posted my trip on my tiktok if anyone is interested about the visual for the chapter ✨️
@ pilleczukor

Notes:

❗️❗️I SAW TWO SEVENTEEN MEMBERS WALKING DOWN THE MF STREET TODAY YO (09.17.)❗️❗️

Idk them by name but my friends said it was mingyu and vernon

Whoever is the taller one I made eyecontact with him too
Literally living that delululu fangirl life bc bro paused when he saw my friends and I (standing behind a group of tween fans) 🤣🤣✨️
Looked above their heads and saw us and I felt like the main character fr fr 🤧

❗️❗️I MADE EYECONTACT WITH A SEVENTEEN MEMBER ❗️❗️

Okay

Please read the chapter xddd fhwhshshab

---

The sun shines gently, barely peaking from the flat, concrete horizons of the airport. Their five o'clock flight lands just at the beginning of sunrise.

Neteyam continues speaking na'vi — Ao'nung could get used to it. He's starting to remember all the differences in their dialects and understands Neteyam's speech marvellously. He's missed this — Tsireya learnt English at an astounding pace, much faster than Ao'nung ever did. And thanks to Lo'ak, she's become fluent. Ao'nung has always struggled a bit more than average. To help him, Tonowari and Ronal began talking in English around the house, until they slowly stopped using the metcayinan dialect altogether. Ao'nung has missed using na'vi.

Neteyam, bolder (always bolder than Ao'nung, except when Ao'nung proposed), slips his pinky into the surfer's palm as they walk down the steep stairs, exiting the aircraft. They sat close to the door, so they're one of the first to reach the ground, and, much like everyone else, they capture the sunrise on Neteyam's camera.

Ao'nung watches him, mesmerised — golden rays cascade around Neteyam like a light, silk curtain. His eyes appear almost golden, too. He's breathtaking, and doesn't notice the group of girls, around twenty years old, pausing to look at him, eyes wide and a little starstruck. But Ao'nung notices them, and for the first time in his life, he doesn't feel threatened. Anger doesn't seep into his core the same way it used to when he thought someone would come and steal Neteyam from him.

It's a nice feeling.

It reminds him a little of the way he feels when he listens to Lord Huron's The Night We Met.

Neteyam turns the camera on Ao'nung, startling him out of his thoughts. He straightens his back and grins, all proud and cocky (because when he lies in meadows or walks in forests, he's alright). He signs something to the camera so fast, he knows Neteyam won't be able to catch it. The archer voices his complaints, playfully, and nudges Ao'nung's foot with his own.

Then, because almost all passengers are stuck taking photos of the most magnificent sunrise Ao'nung has ever seen, a personel starts instructing them to head towards baggage claim or the exits.

As they leave, the captain steps into view, and waves to the departing passengers. Neteyam waves back, pinky linked with Ao'nung's.

It's easy to get to Venice from the airport; they take the bus and enjoy watching the view. Once they arrive, Ao'nung easily takes Neteyam's bag and refuses to let the smaller male carry anything. 

"I'm more than capable of carrying my things, you know," Neteyam mumbles, lips pursed into an exaggerated pout. He pokes at Ao'nung's upper arm with his middle finger and rolls his eyes. 

"I know, I know. But why should you have to?" Ao'nung smirks, eyes twinkling in delight at the colour that taints Neteyam's cheeks.

 

---

 

Inside the hotel room, Neteyam watches the footage back, excited to see the photos and videos of the day. He's going last to first, looking at the funky streets and pretty buildings (and Ao'nung's occasion photo bombs) before he reaches the video he took in the sunset. 

His fingers hover, nervousness buzzing in his stomach — he remembers not catching Ao'nung's signs and bites the inside of his cheeks, curling his toes tightly in his shoes.  A silent preview repeats a few times before Neteyam finally heaves a sigh and clicks the play button. 

The sunset comes into view, hidden by a couple planes in the distance, waiting for their next journey. There's chatter in the background and the camera turns to the surfer, who pauses for a moment, grasping the straps of his backpack before he grins cheekily and his hands move like lightning with his message. 

The camera lowers to their feet before the footage cuts off. 

Neteyam frowns at his screen, rewinding the video and pausing it when it wants to play again; he starts to edit it, setting the speed lower. 

And then, he pauses all together, lips falling open in a silent gasp — the sounds of the shower running drift into the room quietly. 

Lost.

Soul.

You.

And I.

'I was lost, then I found you, and found myself in your soul.' 

He inhales sharpy and switches the tab, typing away hurriedly, kicking his shoes off and pulling his feet onto the bed, resting his chin on his knees.

The water in the shower cuts off — the sounds of Ao'nung moving about twinkle across the walls, slipping out under the door, through the little space before the floor stretches along the cozy place.

Neteyam glances at the door and swallows thickly. He continues typing, pausing to squint in confusion.

Then, Ao'nung steps out in the shorts he's brought to sleep in, a towel around his neck and flip-flops squelching with each step he takes onto the room. 

Neteyam sets his phone down quickly and stands, wiping his hands on his shorts before his shaky fingers form.

Ao'nung pauses, lips round in a silent exhale. He takes a moment to react, eyes softening as he takes slow steps closer, lifting his arms — he reaches Neteyam and cups both his cheeks, fingertips patting along some of his braids. The surfer touches their foreheads together, heart pounding.  

"You want to spend the rest of my life with me?" He breathes out, a hint of amusement seeping into his voice. 

Neteyam flushes, eyes widening before he averts his gaze and stares off to the side. "Ah. Your— your life? I signed 'your'?"

Ao'nung tilts his head, bumping their noses. His breath fans along Neteyam's lips as he whispers. "Say it out loud." 

Neteyam shakes his head, swallowing. He stammers, grasping Ao'nung's wrists weakly. "I can't."

The metcayinan male smirks slightly and lets his hands drift down to Neteyam's waist, holding him in a loose grip. "Why not?" 

Face burning (as it once did when he realised his crush on Ao'nung), Neteyam clears his throat and tries to meet his eyes. "Because." 

Ao'nung smiles, feeling his heart gradually melt into a sweet little pink puddle of ice-cream in the summer. "You already signed it. Just say it."

Neteyam shudders as Ao'nung squeezes his sides lightly, one hand slipping up under the archer's T-shirts, caressing the warm skin hidden below. "Or what?"

Ao'nung bites his lips. "You reckon these walls are thin or thick?" 

Neteyam sighs out shakily, knees feeling just a little less like they can support him. The night feels like his first with Ao'nung — and yet at the same time he feels like he's spent a million lifetimes with the surfer.  

"Thin," Neteyam murmurs tenderly, placing his hands on Ao'nung's shoulders, eyes half lidded and set on the Metcayina's lips. 

Ao'nung hums in agreement and steps forward until the back of Neteyam's knees hit the side of the bed and they tumble down onto the soft mattress. 

Notes:

Besties
I went to a k-pop party and kissed a korean man im literally not recognising myself
Got his socials too yo 💀

It's giving Neteyam when he accidentally got with Ao'nung at that party lmfaooo

Bro wanted to take me home but I don't trust men and left him there🤣🤣🤣

Side note: this note is nearly a month old, I'll fill yall in in the next chapter because soooo much happened while I didn't post
Sorry bout that btw

Chapter 85: Memories of Us

Summary:

Good morning (it's 23:49) and welcome to a new chapter

Ya girl got a dorm spot finally!! No more 5+ hours of commuting daily so hopefully I will be able to update more ^^

But also tell me why I'm omw to class that's at 12 (but my dumbass thought it was at 11 so I was an hour early) and run into my bloody ex, who doesn't go to my uni NOR any school in the city and he's right there by the entrance 🙃 😒
I was on a video call with my friend who's doing an exchange program in Korea and I nearly died right there on the spot.
Idk if he saw me but he looked miserable (as he should, cheating bastard). Nearly ruined my entire day but then I met friends and accidentally found a birthday party for jimin at a mall and got a cute free card lmaoooo

Notes:

There might be some reason (by that I mean hella tea) behind my tardiness lately 👉🏻👈🏻

Yall seem to like me blabbing about my life so I shall do that again ✨️

---

Sometimes the loss of his father becomes very apparent.

There are days Jake is all Neteyam can think about — now, as he lazes around on a sunny beach in Lido di Jesolo, it is, for some reason, the only thing he can think about. He doesn't notice the children carrying buckets of water, or the old woman loudly talking on the phone in a raspy voice.

A black woman carrying a baby girl on her back walks past, showing him a page of hairstyles she could do on his head, but Neteyam is too zoned out to notice — he doesn't notice the Asian man offering massages either, nor the Indian man trying to sell towels.

It's a busy day — people are basking in the last of the warmth. And Ao'nung is busy with the sand.

Neteyam's lips twitch.

The surfer is trying to create a turtle in the sand.

The hours breeze by — first, Neteyam's stomach is rounded from all the food he's inhaled during breakfast at their hotel, then, he's swimming, then, he's just walking along the beach with Ao'nung. Now, he's just lying under a parasol (is that even what those huge umbrella's are called?), wiggling his sandy toes. But he's shirtless, because he saw a short black-haired woman whose entire body and face was painted in vitiligo; a mix of creamy tan and pearly white.

And Neteyam's examined himself in the mirror in the morning, pointing out a brown spot on his back to Ao'nung.

"Sometimes I gain colour back," he'd murmured, shivering as the Metcayina's gentle fingertips trailed along the little patches of brown.

Ao'nung had tilted his head, eyes soft and yet filled with wonder. "I didn't know that was possible ."

"Tuk-tuk had a white patch disappear completely once when she was smaller." Neteyam's hand had rested on Ao'nung's hip, thumb tracing patterns into the bare skin above the waistband of his shorts.

"Are you hoping for that?" Ao'nung had asked, voice trembling slightly as a wild array of butterflies frolicked around in his chest — this has always been a sensitive subject for Neteyam.

But Neteyam had only smiled, albeit sadly, touching the little white patch peeking on his hip. "It's just a little bit of my dad in me. It's his exact skin-tone."

Ao'nung had kissed his cheek — and now they're on the beach, time spent together in the morning a distant blur in Neteyam's mind.
But he's alright. Today, it doesn't hurt. It brings him peace to know he looks just a little bit like his dad. Just a little bit of Jake is left on his skin, sprinkled in strange patterns like a messy trail of kisses from the ghosts of his past. Ghosts Neteyam doesn't mind lingering.

 

---

 

"Okay, do you wanna go in there or—"

"Ew, no. There's too many children. Look how they're running around like little rascals," Ao'nung whines, scrunching his nose.

Neteyam raises a brow, amusement tugging at his lips. "I thought you liked children."

Ao'nung sniffs in offence, crossing his arms as they stand side by side on the sidewalk, watching a little arcade like area filled to the brim with people. "Not when they're out past bedtime, wilding like this."

"Wilding?" Neteyam snorts, poking at Ao'nung's upper arm. "They're just playing."

Ao'nung shakes his head. "No. They're screaming. That one is crying, too."

Neteyam follows his gaze, watching a little blonde boy wail to his mother in Russian — probably not wanting to home yet. Ao'nung checks the time on his phone and Neteyam takes a peek.
"It's past eleven," he comments.

Ao'nung hums with a short nod. "Exactly. They're supposed to be sleeping."

"They're on vacation, Nung. Let them have fun. We can just go somewhere else." Neteyam wraps slender fingers around Ao'nung's arm, tugging them loose from their crossed position. "Besides. You don't even like these games."

"I still wanted to beat your ass," Ao'nung mumbles, lips pursed into an exaggerated pout. He lets himself be tugged along the busy streets of Jesolo.

"You forget that I grew up with Lo'ak." Neteyam sidesteps a small dog, walking comfortably.

Ao'nung frowns. "Why does everyone expect us to move out of the way? The sidewalk is wide enough. And they closed of the street from cars—"

Neteyam taps a finger against Ao'nung's lips, stunning him into silence. They haven't been too open about the nature of their relationship here, unsure if it's safe. "Nungie. People are like this everywhere. Just enjoy being here?"

Ao'nung pauses, cheeks tinting as he squints sheepishly. Neteyam moves a step away and grins, eyes twinkling.

"Let's get ice cream."

"Huh?" Ao'nung blinks. "Again?"

"Again."

 

---

 

Ao'nung chews on the inside of his lips, waiting for Neteyam to finish his shower. He's nervous, but he's not really sure why — he's done this before, although that was a while ago. Maybe it's just the fact that he doesn't know if Neteyam would want it, too.

Ao'nung does; he's also a bit scared.

Not sure why. Really.

He clears his throat and tries to swallow the lump bothering his ability to breathe.

Deep breaths don't do much for him.
Neteyam steps out of the bathroom, hair braided, wet, and a bit frizzy from the salty ocean waters. Or is that a sea? Ao'nung cannot really focus on that right now. He's too busy being nervous.

But it's definitely a sea.
Right?

Neteyam is busy sorting out his accessories on their little shelves, because they'll go out to have dinner later. Because Ao'nung asked. Because Ao'nung really wants clams or shrimp or something. He's been living the rodent life, eating salads the whole day, and for what? They never had enough sauce to taste like anything but leaves.

And there's never enough tomatoes.

"You okay there, Nung?" Neteyam hums, hips forward, curled all funny over himself to put in his belly button piercing.

Ao'nung blinks, eyebrows furrowing just the slightest. "Huh?"

Neteyam chuckles. "You're spacing out. What's bothering you, honey?"

Honey.

Ao'nung wiggles in place, stomach fluttering with butterflies. He reaches up, as he sits on the side of the bed, to tug Neteyam closer by his waistband once he steps close enough.

"Nothing is bothering me," he mumbles, sneaking his thumbs under Neteyam's T-shirt. "I was just thinking about you."

Neteyam raises a playful brow and pats one of Ao'nung's hands. "So, I'm bothering you?"

"No—" Ao'nung whines, face scrunching. "You can't ever bother me."

The archer tilts his head.

Ao'nung pauses, cheeks tinting with the faintest (that's a lie to preserve his dignity) colour. "Okay. Maybe when you put your cold toes on my legs."

Neteyam smirks, crossing his arms.

Ao'nung heaves a sigh and shakes his head, properly grasping Neteyam's hips. "You're also a little annoying when you feel the need to fix my nail-skins."

After a moment of hesitant silence, Neteyam snorts (much like a pig) and clears his throat. "Cuticles, you mean?"

Ao'nung shrugs. "Yeah. Cut the cubicles."

Neteyam bites the inside of his lower lip and glances up towards the ceiling. He places a hand on top of Ao'nung's head and shakes his head. "That's not— nevermind. So, why did thinking about me make you look constipated?"

Ao'nung peaks up at Neteyam, fiddling with the archer's clothes. Neteyam stands in front of him patiently, playing with the surfer's hair. Ao'nung chews on the inside of his cheek and clicks his tongue. "Well. I wasn't. I was just thinking... that maybe we can... that you can... so, before we go out—"

Neteyam tucks a stray curl behind Ao'nung's ear tenderly, tickling his under the chin before dropping his hand to his shoulder. "Is it something we've never done before?"

"No. We have done it. Just—" Ao'nung heaves a loud sigh, gesturing around with his hands helplessly.

"If we've done it before, then just say it, Nung. Nothing to be worried about." Neteyam scratches his nose and grins.

"Do you—" he stammers. "Doyouwanttotop?"

Neteyam blinks, lazy summer brain catching up. "Oh? You want me to?"

Ao'nung nods, face as red as when he ate a spoonful of wasabi, not knowing what it was. "Yeah."

Neteyam hums, trailing his hand up the side of Ao'nung's neck, caressing the tinted skin, eyes half-lidded. "You sure, Nung?"

Ao'nung swallows. "Yeah."

Notes:

So y'all know how I met this dude at a party at the end of September? 🤣

We went out a few times and then after 2 weeks he said "I have a crush with you." So now I have a cute 160 korean boyfriend 🙈

I thought he was gonna be so unserious cause we met at a party but he's actually so polite 😭
He remembers things that I say I like or dislike and gets all flustered when I call him cute 😭😭
And if I randomly text him at 17.30 if he wants to meet then we'll literally be hanging out at 18:00 😭
And he's actually quite strong (cause I pestered him that I'm stronger than him until he held me by a railing and I couldn't break free lmao) but he never once uses strength against me and when he tickles me he lets me escape really easy
And then I ended up sleeping at his place cause I would have arrived home at like midnight and I didn't even have to ask for anything?? Like, he brought me clothes, towel, hair drier, toothbrush with toothpaste already on it, made food 😭😭
And he has a paw patrol pillowcase lmaoo
AND if I get confused about Korean he'll explain until I get it even if it takes time for him to figure out how to say it in English
Also. He doesn't mind me posting him on my socials and if I tag him he'll occasionally reshare it even though he hardly ever posts anything shahsnhjknh
He squints his right eye when he smiles and its kinda goofy 😭🤣

That being said, he's really sweet but I'm treating this with caution because he'll probably only be in the country for one year (and we met at a party so yeah)

Side note: I can't have a moment of peace in this lifetime because my exs grandma wants English lessons from me 💀

Chapter 86: 2 Cool 4 Skewl

Notes:

For a change, I have nothing to say xdd
Life is chill
I hang with friends or tiny-oppa (korean dude code name xd, so creative I know)
Enjoy 💗🫶🏻💗

---

 

"So, you mean to tell me you postponed your wedding but now you changed your mind?" Lo'ak quirks a brow, lounging on Neteyam's bed in their family home.

Neteyam sighs, running a hand over his face as he sits at his desk, chair turned out to face his brother. "It's weird, right?"

Lo'ak hums, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. "I mean, Ao'nung isn't the type of person to be offended by this. But it's still a bit weird. Wasn't your initial idea that you'll get married after graduation?"

Neteyam mumbles something glumly.

"What?"

"I said I—" He mutters hurriedly, chewing on his nails.

Lo'ak sits up, squinting at his brother. He drags Payakan over and hugs the stuffed creature close. "Bro, I literally can't hear you, much less understand a word of what you're saying. Not that that be considered saying. You're just making noise."

Neteyam clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes, pulling his legs up and hugging them close to his chest. He rests his cheek on his knees and turns away from his brother.

Lo'ak groans. "Come on, bro. What is it?"

"Iflunkedaclass—"
"Huh?" Lo'ak pauses. "You did?"
He shuffles closer to the edge of the bed and tries to peer into his brother's eyes, but Neteyam is doing his best to avoid any and all forms of eye contact.

"But wait, I already know that?" Lo'ak trails off, tilting his head. "Why does that matter? Did you fail two?"

Neteyam grunts. "No."

"Kay," Lo'ak deadpans. "So then what is your problem?"

"Extra year."

"Bro, literally, can you speak in actual sentences that I can understand—" Lo'ak snaps, curling his toes and squeezing at Payakan's intact fins. "If you act like a riddle, I can't help you."

Neteyam lifts his head, mouth hanging open, affronted. "Don't yell at me—"

Lo'ak raises a brow, daring Neteyam to fight back. He doesn't say anything else, just waits for Neteyam to say something.

The older Sully brother grunts and looks to the side. "I'm going to graduate a year late."

Lo'ak purses his lips (he's healing a stray bump, probably herpes, because he forgets himself and chews his name after using public transport) and winces. He licks at his lower lip, distracted for a second. "So is Tsireya. What's the big deal? We aren't going to go bankrupt because of it."

"But I don't want to wait that long." Neteyam lets his legs down and leans back, jutting out his lower lip. He crosses his arms and glares at the ceiling.

Lo'ak sighs softly and shakes his head. "Bro. Then don't wait that long. Go get married next summer or something. It's really not as big of a deal as you're making it."

Neteyam pauses chewing on his lower lip and lifts his head. "It's not?"

Lo'ak shakes his head, as though he's just said the most obvious thing. "It's not. Nobody is going to weird about it. Everyone understands what happened."

Neteyam nods once, linking his fingers together and resting his hands on his lap. He heaves a sigh (again, as he does so often these days) and stares at the chipped polish on his nails. He scratches at a bit of colour on his thumb with his other thumb and swallows the lump in his throat.

"So, how was Austria?" Lo'ak asks suddenly, flopping back down and propping his feet up on the wall. "You didn't tell me that yet."

"It was good," Neteyam murmurs tenderly and fiddles with his engagement ring instead. "The room we got was a bit weird though, but aside from that it was fine. I'm taking a suitcase next time though. My shoulders still hurt."

Lo'ak smirks. "Next time, take me."

"You're very capable of taking yourself," Neteyam huffs, rolling his eyes.

"Where's the fun in that?" Lo'ak cackles. "You're older, so if you take me, you can pay."

"Leech—" Neteyam snorts, throwing a random eraser at Lo'ak's chest, to which the younger pretends he's been shot and makes strangled noises, grasping at his chest in fake-helplessness.

 

---

 

"Ugh, this class is so boring—" Kiri whines, poking at Neteyam's arm with the tip of her pen, leaving a small blue dot behind.

Neteyam sighs softly through his nose and glances her way. "Why did you choose it then?"

"Cause you chose it and I wanted to have a class with you." Kiri tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and grins, sparing only a little glance at their professor. "It reminds me of high school."

"I thought you hated high school?" Neteyam whispers to her, having given up on following along their lecture, despite it being the very first one of the semester.

"I hate uni more," she whispers back, an amused smile on her face. "It's never clear what I'm supposed to learn. At least in high school, the teachers told us properly."

"Fair enough," Neteyam murmurs quietly and scratches the back of his head. "I hate that, too."

Kiri nods in satisfaction. "So, any good fanfics recently? You've been quiet."

Neteyam frowns, shaking his head. He fiddles with his pen and heaves another sigh. "I haven't really been reading."

Kiri raises a brow. "Then, what have you been doing? Besides travelling with your soulmate. And sleepi—"

"Shush—" Neteyam whines, covering Kiri's mouth. "I've been watching a show."

"Ooh. Which one?" Kiri grins, leaning closer to Neteyam.

Neteyam glances around, wondering if they're annoying anyone with their constant whispering. He pulls his shoulders up and lowers his voice. "True Beauty."

"They'll be a new season!" Kiri beams.

"Wait, what?" Neteyam blinks in surprise. "When?"

"In a month or two," she says, voice twinkling with delight. "I can't wait."

"I didn't know you saw it." Neteyam fiddles with the pages of his notebook and chews on his bottom lip absently.

Kiri shrugs. "I mean. You said you only ever watched Law School, so why should I have told you?"

Neteyam hums along and glances to the side. "That's fair. I'm a changed man now. I need to work on my listening skills."

"How much do you understand?" Kiri asks, fingers twirling one of her thin braids.

The eldest Sully visibly deflates. "Like two sentences per episode."

Kiri nods and pats his back in sympathy. "It'll get better."

"What if I fail my class again?" He frets, visibly on edge.

She shushes him gently. "No. You won't. It'll be easier second time around."

"I'm not so sure. I tried talking to a native speaker and I didn't even manage to understand when she asked if I'm studying..." Neteyam huffs, leaning back against his chair and sliding down slightly, crossing his arms. He stretches his legs, accidentally kicking the leg of the chair in front of him, receiving no reaction from the student sitting on it.

Kiri purses her lips and carefully scratches the spot under one of her eyes, avoiding her mascara and eyeliner. She sets her empty hand on her lap and links her fingers. She runs her thumb over one of her rings absently, staring at the fabric of her faded, black jeans (a rare item for her to be wearing). She's had them since high-school.

They sit in silence for a while before turning her head to look at Neteyem again, only to find him doodling on the back of his hand.

"Maybe you can find a teacher?" She nudges him with her elbow.

His nose twitches. "What's that?"

"A teacher?" She stares, startled.

"No." He shakes his head, glancing around, brows furrowed and jaw set. He looks down. "Oh, for fuck's sake. I stepped in dog shit—"

Kiri snorts, gaining the attention of the professor. She flushes and averts her gaze, picking up her pen, pretending to focus intently on taking notes, her page still empty except for the date written on the corner.

Chapter 87: Dancing in a Daydream

Summary:

Was reading through some of my previous chapters and I apparently gave Neteyam brown hair 🤣🤣🤣
I am most certain I have been mentioning it being black for a while now 😃😃😃

Notes:

Ao'nung is in his feels

---

Ao'nung remembers fallings in love with Neteyam but at the same time, he doesn't.

He remembers seeing him for the first time, stepping into that dusty high-school classroom, hair braided tightly, skin clear and glowing, a dark blue sweater draped over his shoulders, the arms tied neatly over his chest. Cream pants and white shoes before white shoes were cool. And a thin bracelet with little alien-heads.

And Ao'nung remembers Neteyam walking past him to his new seat, leaving behind a trail of faint perfume.

He couldn't get it out of his nose even when the smell of chlorine was the only thing left during his swimming practice the next day.

Ao'nung has known Neteyam since they were fifteen. He knows he was Neteyam's first kiss too — it was at a stupid little sleepover Tsireya had hosted. They were 16. Ever the love-bug, she twisted the events of that night to fit her own desires and decided to play spin the bottle. She had been hoping to secure a peck with the youngest Sully brother only to end up missing completely. Neteyam had flushed so bright that Ao'nung thought he might faint.

It's a funny memory.

This term, the two of them have classes together again. And as always, Neteyam focuses more on his international relations lectures than his biology ones. So, sometimes he skips. And those sometimes are Ao'nung's favourite afternoons, because he gets to give Neteyam his notes and watch as the dark-skinned male copies it all down with his absolutely terrible handwriting.

Ao'nung still can't read it.
But it's all fine, because whenever Neteyam has to write something down for Ao'nung, he makes sure to use pretty little pearl letters.

Ao'nung remembers when Neteyam would show up at the dorms with cider bottles clinking together in his backpack.

Now, he feels like they're growing up. And it all feels a little too fast.

But! There will be a Halloween party (outside of university) and they're all going.

But when did it suddenly become October?

It was a nice summer in Italy, then it was not, because Ao'nung blinked. And when he blinks, the time rushes by.

Ao'nung misses Neteyam's party tricks.

He wants to see the shorter male open a bottle of cider by hitting a knife against the lid. Ao'nung always breaks the mouth of the bottle when he tries.

Ao'nung misses the way Neteyam used to bring him milk chocolate with almonds. (Neteyam's favourite chocolate is white chocolate with strawberries.)

And Ao'nung also really misses when they would all just get together and play silly games, or go swimming in freezing water.
He's pretty sure Tsireya still goes out and does the same girly things with those 3 friends of hers that she's always done.

Ao'nung doesn't take kindly to change.
He cannot even begin to explain how much he despises being in his final year now. He wants to be a freshman again. He wants to go back to 365 days ago and bicker with Lo'ak about fluttering too close to Tsireya.

He misses Neteyam's little stories about how Lo'ak embarrassed Jake by blabbing away in the background of his videocall meetings or how one of the Sully's would often drive that enormous car to pick everyone up (except Ao'nung) to take them all to dorm parties. Ao'nung really wants to fall asleep in the back of his father's car, Neteyam tangled in his arms.

He misses the longing (having forgotten its torturous nature) he felt before he first got to hold Neteyam in his arms (to put it kindly).

He does not really miss that weird mess that went down the morning after the two of them get so wasted they ended up somehow sleeping together.

That was awkward and terrifying.

Ao'nung does still miss the way Neteyam would bring smoothies to parties and sip on them (he doesn't miss making fun of him). But he does think it's cute that Neteyam easily forgave him as long as Ao'nung just untied his bun.

And when Lo'ak would topple over and fall into bushes — or throw up all over the bathroom. That's another thing Ao'nung misses.

And Ao'nung misses a lot of things. He's always been rather soft and sentimental, even if he pretends he isn't.

Although, some things he misses can be a bit strange. Like how he misses parties and the way he could obviously tell the reason why Rotxo and Kiri disappeared somewhere for a while by their messed up clothes and hair.

And dare he say it — Ao'nung misses Tsireya's three small friends. Even Fruit Basket.

Okay. Maybe not Fruit Basket.

Ao'nung huffs, shaking his head. He sits hunched over his notes in his shared bedroom with Neteyam and wonders when he's stopped feeling like a reckless student and became whatever he is now.

Neteyam is there too, lounging on the bed. He's swinging his feet around, typing away on his phone.

It's midnight.

It's a midnight on a late October day, when leaves have already tinted in shades of sunset and a thin sweater is no longer enough to fight away the cool winds of the oncoming winter.

"I love you."

"Huh?"

"I love you, Nung."

Ao'nung's heart flutters. "I love you, too, forest boy."

Neteyam lies on his side, phone set aside, screen still lit. He smiles and curls up. "I missed you calling me that."

I just missed you in general. But Ao'nung doesn't say that out loud. He merely smiles, rubbing at his eyes, hair frizzed up from all the tugging his been doing on his bun. The words he is trying to learn just won't stick.

And he doesn't even notice it, but suddenly, he's beside Neteyam, mouth to mouth, heart to heart. Skin against skin. Neteyam is on his back, eyes closed, only ever opening halfway before they fall shut again, a leg draped over Ao'nung's hip. Neither know where their clothes went, and Neteyam's phone starts playing If It Keeps You Up At Night by The Swoons when he accidentally lies on it.

Neteyam has a new piercing — a new necklace and a new sweater. It's dark blue with some American university's name printed on the front. And now Neteyam wears a tiny A around his neck. Thin and silver, just like Ao'nung's twinkling little N.

They're silver and gold and blue and teal. Yellows and Pale Blues.

They're the sunset and the curves of the ocean's waves.

They're the selfie they took in a mall in front of Pandora, little jewellery boxes in hand.

They're there in the paper bag beside their bed with Halloween consumes ready to take to KiriRotxoSpider's apartment next weekend.

They're in the deep, raspy moans bouncing softly along the walls and curtains.

Neteyam's face hidden in the crook of Ao'nung's neck as Dancing After Death plays (and Dancing in a Daydream).

They're in the poem Ao'nung once dared to write; and the collection of quotes Neteyam's saved on Pinterest.

You and me.

Just you and me.

Dancing in a Daydream.

Notes:

Tinyoppa out of nowhere: is my dick small?
Me, weakly: what?
Tinyoppa: can you feel anything?

Chapter 88: Stuck on Me Like a Tattoo

Summary:

Can a hangover last multiple days becauseee
Anyway, enjoy :3

Notes:

sorry for any typoes
my fingers were really cold writing this

---

Ao'nung traces the lines on the back of his lover gently, raising goosebumps absently and he lies halfway draped over Neteyam. The archer doses comfortably, lying on his stomach, arms under his head as pillows.

"Do you want to see something?" Ao'nung whispers to him tenderly, lips brushing against Neteyam's ear. 

Half-asleep, Neteyam doesn't even open his eyes. "Sure. Show me."

Ao'nung cannot help himself, he chuckles quietly and slips his fingertips under the waistband on Neteyam's sweatpants. "I can't. Your eyes are closed, Tey."

Neteyam grumbles under his breath, shifting around slightly. His hips press against Ao'nung slightly, drawing a surprised gasp. He opens his eyes, smirking and raising a dark brow. "I'm awake. What did you want to show me, Nungie?"

Ao'nung swallows thickly. "Ah."
He grips Neteyam's bare waist and turns the dark-skinned male onto his back, sitting up. Neteyam is already shirtless; he lies there comfortably as Ao'nung tugs off his own top.

Neteyam frowns, lifting his head. "What's that thing wrapped around you?"

"It's for... Actually, I don't know. Protection, I guess." Ao'nung shrugs, scratching the back of his neck.

"What did you do?" Neteyam asks, sitting up. He reached forward to touch Ao'nung's chest, but hesitates. "Did you get hurt?"

Ao'nung's lips twitch in amusement, but he bites back a smile, trying hard to not give anything away. "If you're asking if it hurt, then yes. But I didn't actually get hurt. Don't you know what the wrapping is for?"

"No. Am I supposed to?" Neteyam pouts, confusion clear on his face. "I've never seen this before."

Ao'nung smiles faintly, heart beating wildly against his ribs as he turns around. He hears Neteyam's sharp inhale and tenses slightly, feeling exposed. Then, cold fingertips tap against his shoulderblades, avoiding the clear wrapping on his back.

"You- you got it tattooed on you." Neteyam clears his throat. "Nungie, I didn't think you'd actually do it. What about your tribal tattoos. How will they fit now?"

"There's always enough space for you, too, Tey," Ao'nung smiles, relaxing. "Do they look okay?"

"Yeah," Neteyam whispers, voice shakey and emotional. "I'm just so surprised."

Ao'nung turns halfway to face the shorter male, smiling softly. "Why? Don't you know I love you so much?"

"But enough to get tattoos of my... of the... It's permanent."

"So is yours," Ao'nung murmurs, resting his hand against Neteyam's cheek. "I might have asked Lo'ak for the photos for reference."

Neteyam allows a little laugh to slip out. "I swear- he always tells everyone my business. But I have new patches since then..."

"I picked one from the year we met."

Neteyam averts his gaze, feeling fuzzy and warm, but cold and dizzy all at the same time. He lowers his head and sucks his lower lip into his mouth. Ao'nung's hand slips to the back of his neck, holding him gently.
"I like it," Neteyam whispers.

"I'm glad," Ao'nung whispers back, white lines of vitiligo-immitations swirling along his back in an unusual pattern. 

 

---

 

"Hey, you remember this photo?" Lo'ak asks as Neteyam walks out of the bathroom, hair hanging down, shiny with moisture and products.

Neteyam hums curiously and shuffles closer, naked feet pattering along the floor. He leans down and squints. "When was this?"

Lo'ak glances between his phone and his brother and shrugs. "Like a year ago when we went to that party and you slept with Ao'nung."

Neteyam's cheeks heat. "Why are you bringing that up?"

Lo'ak rolls his eyes. "You guys are literally getting married, there's really no reason for you to still be embarrassed about it."

"Well, I am." Neteyam crosses his arms and turns his nose up. "It's still a bit distasteful to get so drunk that— you know..."

"That you fuck your best friend?" Lo'ak smirks smugly, the blurry photo of him cuddling his brother the morning after still open on his phone. "Honestly, bro. Why do you think dad was giving you condoms every time we went to a party?"

"He told me it's so you don't make him a grandfather," Neteyam grumbles, trying to run his hands through his hair. He winces when he pulls too hard.

Lo'ak snorts, shaking his head. "It's definitely not because you and Ao'nung were acting like a couple even before you got together."

Neteyam scoffs, nudging Lo'ak's side with his foot as they sit side by side on the sofa. "Are you being sarcastic?"

Lo'ak shrugs. "I mean. Not all of us can be the epitome of self control."

Neteyam gives him the most unimpressed look he can muster. "I can feel that you'd use that cursed nail painting emoji."

The youngest Sully boy grins, puffing his chest out. He grabs his brother's foot and pulls on his leg until Neteyam falls on his back, nearly toppling off the sofa with a strangled cry.
"Self control—" he grumbles, trying to tug his foot free, but Lo'ak has a vice grip on him. "My ass—"

"Is sore."

"Lo'ak!"
"It's like the first thing I asked you after it, you know!" Lo'ak cackles, pulling Neteyam's sock off and pushing his fingers between his brother's toes.

Neteyam sniffles a helpless laugh, foot thoroughly tickled. He kicks about, but it is useless. "Lo'ak, come on. Stop it. That's weird."

But Lo'ak only cackles. "Lemme take a picture. Stay still."

"Are you going to post that?" Neteyam asks, lifting his head, winded.

Lo'ak hums, glancing towards the ceiling in thought. "Your nail polish is chipped here, so maybe not. And people might think this is Tsireya's foot. Wouldn't want people to assume she has huge grippers."

"Wouldn't you." Neteyam tugs himself free and rolls his eyes, snatching his sock back. "Don't post any feet."

"Cause of the creeps." Lo'ak nods.

"No, cause feet suck." Neteyam's nose twitches in disdain.

Lo'ak settles back down, as thought he hadn't just been pestering his brother. "Ao'nung's too?"

"Literally, be quiet." Neteyam swats at Lo'ak's arm, sitting up. "I don't like anyone's feet."

Eventually, they settle down. Neteyam begins braiding his hair while Lo'ak scrolls on his phone, giggling at something occasionally.

"There's this Halloween event at the zoo," Lo'ak comments after a while, showing Neteyam his screen. "We could go. It's the night before the party."

Neteyam grimaces. 

"It ends at eleven," Lo'ak deadpans. "Literally, don't be a baby."

"Fine, fine. Halloween event it is. But you're driving."

"We're taking the tram."

"Be so for real right now, Lo'ak. We are not taking the tram. The last one leaves at ten." Neteyam snaps.

Lo'ak holds his arms up in surrender, rolling his eyes. "God, you're so pissy. Fine. I'll drive."

Notes:

I googled white tattoo on brown skin for this and I was so mesmerised

Chapter 89: Spooky Season

Summary:

This semester is so calm??
Literally nothing is happening. Like, I'm teaching my ex's grandma English, sure, that's the only slightly uncomfortable thing. But she doesn't talk about him anyway.
It might be cause I flunked my core korean language class so im not being neutered 3 times a week with the intensity this sem cause it's a spring only class — but still.
The calmness is suspicious.

I don't have any weird roomies, my new boyfriend is being a cutie day and night, I hang with friends and that's all.
I actually sat down to study by myself for like 7 hours the other day and enjoyed it 💀💀

Is this what normal people live life like???

Notes:

My roommate came inside as I was whispering timothee chalamet statistics to myself 💀💀
Died of mortification right there

---

"Why are you frowning at yourself?" Neteyam raises a brow, watching Kiri sit cross legged in front of the full body mirror in her room, leaning in close to do her make-up. 

She huffs, fringe flying up from the force. She pokes at her bare-faced cheeks. "Look at all these pimples!" 

Neteyam hums, sitting by her bed on the floor. "Concealer should do." 

"Right. But the point is, I'm breaking out still, but I'm in my twenties!" Kiri huffs again, shaking her head in disbelief. She pats at her cheeks with open palms. "I know how concealer works, brother." 

"Alright, alright." He raises his arms in surrender. "Take some photos with me before the costumes."

She pauses, confused. "Why?"

Neteyam shrugs. "Mom is picky about her holidays. I may have forgotten to inform her that this is a costume party."

Kiri chuckles, patting down her bangs into place. "Fine. But I think it would be more believeable if we put the makeup on without the outfits. Who goes partying in sleepwear?" 

Neteyam shrugs. "On an average day? Probably Spider. He always just wears what he usually does during the day." 

"I once wore pyjama pants to school because I forgot to change them," Kiri cackles, cheeks tinting. "It was the most comfortable uncomfortable experience of my life."

"I dreamt about not wearing any pants. It was way too realistic."

"You know what they say about the multiverse and hyperrealistic dreams," she grins, reaching over to pat his shoulder. 

He grimaces. "Don't remind me. I kept dreaming about being shot when I was around fifteen."

Kiri frowns. "You never told me that."

Neteyam shrugs, looking away. "I mean. It seemed dramatic because Lo'ak was the one at home during the incident." 

Kiri nods, solemn and lips downturned. 

"Anyway. Let's a use a filter. My makeup won't pass for normal party makeup." 

"What did you say you will be?" Kiri tilts her head, shuffling closer.

Neteyam smirks, crossing his legs. "You'll see."

 

---

 

Lo'ak pauses, bottle half-way lifted to his lips. "What are you supposed to be?"

Ao'nung frowns, pursing his lips. He crosses his arms and turns away. 

"Please tell me it's a couple costume and Neteyam is wearing the same thing—"

"Neteyam is not dressed as a walrus, I promise you," Tsireya giggles, swooping around from behind her brother, hair flowing behind her, eyeshadow sparling intensely even in the late afternoon dimness. 

Ao'nung scoffs, pulling on a strand of her hair as she prances by him. "I'm not a walrus!"

Lo'ak snorts, shaking his head. "What are you, then? Beached whale?" 

Ao'nung's nose twitches in offence, already scheming in his head on how to get Lo'ak so drunk, he will have a hangover for days. "A tulkun." 

"Tulkun have nothing to do with Halloween," Lo'ak deadpans, his drink opened but untouched. 

The Metcayina clears his throat, raising a brow. He then points to his sister. "Cause that does?"

"That is a she!" She cries, hands on her hips. "And I dressed as a Metcayina chief's daughter. It's the exact amount of a Halloween as people dressing like princess Jasmin!" 

"That's not a lot," Lo'ak mumbles, glancing down into his bottle. He wiggles it around, watching the blue liquid swirl around.  

Tsireya gasps, standing straighter. "Okay. She's a princess. I'm a princess. Same thing."

"You just wanted a reason to wear no clothes," Ao'nung comments, copying her stance, hands on his hips.

Lo'ak eyes him with disdain, inhaling sharply to argue when Ronal saunters into the room, head tilted. She glances between her children and swats the back of Ao'nung's hand. 

"Dare not speak to her in such a way. She is wearing the clothes of our ancestors. And men wore just as little." Ronal steps up to her daughter, cupping her cheeks. "We should draw some tattoos."

"Okay, momma!" Tsireya beams, arms wrapping around Ronal. "If they are nice, I might consider getting them later."

They float out of the room, arm in arm, leaving Lo'ak behind with Ao'nung. 

Lo'ak narrows his eyes. "I want you to tell Rotxo he isn't wearing enough. He's dressed as a hunter." 

Ao'nung frowns, looking away. His shoulders rise to his ears and he ducks his head. "Whatever."

 

---

 

Music pounds and lights flicker intensely. Orange and white balloons litter the floor. Pumpkin and ghost faces rolling about, popping occasionally. 

"What's with all the traditional outfits?" Ao'nung asks, leaning closer to Lo'ak's ear and raising his voice. 

The youngest Sully boy, already a bit tipsy upon arrival, shrugs. "Drinks are half off if you're dressed as something cultural and can prove it." 

Ao'nung pauses, eyes glancing around without really seeing. 

Lo'ak snorts, patting his chest. "I don't think the tulkun counts. Sorry, cuz."

Ao'nung swats him away. "There's nothing more cultural than a tulkun—"

Lo'ak swats him back, cackling. "You drunk already?"

Ao'nung falters, embarrassed. "Yeah."

 

---

 

Alcohol buzzes through his veins, and it makes him feel fuzzy inside. The pounding music is harsh against his ears, beating like drums. Flashing lights paint his skin blue, and his eyes feel a little dry, a little sore. But most importantly, said eyes cannot find Neteyam. Hasn't for a while now, since he left with Kiri. 

Ao'nung can see Rotxo and Spider by the bar, drinks in hand, chatting, the latter's scream mask pushed to the side. Rotxo's tattoos are painted in neon, glowing in the dark, white, pink, blue... green. Depending on the colour of the lights.

His brain feels like Frequency of Love by Milky Chance, and that isn't even the song playing. Spooky, scary Halloween. Or something. 

Ao'nung needs to use the bathroom, but if he does, the alcohol will hit him harder. His eyes scan the crowd again — there's Eyrina and some girls, but Tsireya is not with them. He can see Da-Som, which is a surprise. He didn't think they'd meet here. Well, they didn't meet. He doesn't want to talk to her. Da-Som seems to be wearing Hermione's Yule Ball gown in blue. She's dancing with a crowd. Tsireya is sitting on a sofa with Payiva. 

Lo'ak is by Ao'nung, amused and slightly worried for the surfer. "You good, mate?"

"Where's your brother?" Ao'nung slurs, swaying slightly.

Lo'ak snorts, rolling his eyes. He snatches Ao'nung's drink and shakes his head. "Last time I saw him he was with Tarsem." 

"Tar-who?" 

"You didn't meet?" Lo'ak asks, shrugging. "Well, whatever. I don't know where they went."

Ao'nung frowns, squinting at the wiggling crowd. He saw at least three different Greek gods and a group of people dressed as Russian grandmothers, canes and all. 

He steps away from Lo'ak the second Spider comes over to ask the youngest Sully something.

It doesn't take him long to locate Neteyam in a secure little corner with a high table and an empty barstool left for whoever might decide to join him. Ao'nung assumes this Tarsem guy might have been sitting there at some point.

Neteyam sits there with a pile of freebie oroes he's collected. He lifts his head, eyelids glittering in the low light, body sprinkled in golden glitter. 

Ao'nung sits in front of him. "I didn't see a lot of you tonight."

Neteyam's lips twitch in amusement as Ao'nung fumbles about with the fins of his costume. "Hello to you too, tulkun boy." 

"You took the come representing your culture thing rather seriously," Ao'nung slurs out, eyes unfocused and yet still attempting to trace every curve that creates Neteyam. 

Neteyam shrugs, adjusting his leggins (that he stole from his mother, because he is not showing up bare-legged in a loincloth, thank you).

Ao'nung pauses, noticing a crumbled piece of paper in front of Neteyam, jald hidden by his hand. "You wrote a poem?"

Neteyam sighs, paper in hand, fingertips smudged blue. "I guess I did."

Ao'nung blinks, brain catching up. "It's a party." 

"I felt inspired." 

"We need to get you drunk," Ao'nung announces.

"Oh, I already am," Neteyam murmurs, unheard by Ao'nung. He rests his cheek on his knuckles and watches Ao'nung through dark lashes.

"Can I read it?" Ao'nung perks up, shouting over the music.

Neteyam tilts his head. "It's a little long." 

"That's fine by me—" Ao'nung's voice cuts off in a hiccup. He holds his hand out and beams when Neteyam hands him the piece of paper covered in the atrocities of his handwriting. 

I miss the way the world used to be;
Before I knew of warfare,
When soldiers were pictures of paintings in history books,
Kings uncruel and Queens treated right.
At least I thought. 

I miss the world I used to know;
Believer of the good in everyone, blind,
Before I heard of heinous crimes for the first time,
And my eyes opened for the first time to the cruelty of life.

A time before the world was trying to break us down;
When I was safe and sound in my bubble,
Why did I have to outgrow it?
For what reason were you angry at my shelter enough to tear it down.

I miss the world I used to see,
Full of colour and without fear. 
When I was afraid of only the shadows of the night, 
Not of the man-made monsters hidden inside it.

I miss the world before I shed tears over papers printed by teachers,
Grades and numbers in red ink.
Before the biggest concern of the day became survival and not the next game to play.

I miss the time before I noticed skin in all different shades;
When people were just people and I did not see,
When I sat down without guilt to do what I enjoyed.
Where did that time go?

Someone started the clock, 
It's a countdown and every second is a race;
If you sleep, you waste time,
But if you don't, you won't have the chance of awareness. 

I miss the time somewhere lost in space,
When I made playlists and never looked at them again;
Without guilt, jumping from interest to interest, 
And not worrying, if anyone else thought it strange.

I miss the world in which I sung along to songs;
The world in which I never grew old.
I don't want to feel alone when I sleep,
But the bed is cold no matter how warm the fire burns.

When did change, and started tearing each other down?
Three short years of isolation stole kindness and empathy from us;
Where is he who helps for the sake of helping?
When will I see the homeless under roofs again?

War is no longer just weapons, bloodshed and loud cries;
War is online, war is offline. 
War is in my house, war is in my mind.

I miss the world in which I did not understand;
That battles cost lives — before I realised soldiers are people;
People who feel, inside and out.

I miss the world where I was not scared to open my eyes;
I miss the world where work stopped when I stepped out;
When the challenge was counting my fingers,
Not the coins in my wallet.

When did the cashier stop smiling?
Why does the driver break so hard on the tram? 
When did we start hating before even knowing a thing? 
Who started it all?

Where did the time go?
Why can I now say: when I was a child;
And no longer be a child?
Adults don't laugh, because I am one of them too, now.

I wish to go back in time, when I first held a loaded gun,
But saw no weapon in the metals, no danger, 
Only empty beercans to fire at.

I miss the world as it was. Just out of reach. 
I miss myself before I first saw the kiss of death, 
In the form of a homeless man covered by cloth,
As police stood by.

I miss the world.

I miss myself a little more now.

 

Notes:

Tried to cut up the scenes to give off drunk narrator vibes or smth idk of it worked

Chapter 90: Poetry Club

Summary:

I have nothing to say for myself
But I'm 23 now

---

It hasn't been too long, 
Mere days, or weeks, or maybe more
Since the day that I lost you.

Life has continued to rush by,
Only now, I see that for some,
Life is unkind.

Life stood you up,
And made you stand down,
Weak and cold, and afraid.

Did you cry?
Where you scared when you fell to the ground,
Knowing you won't ever stand again.

Did you know you won't breathe again?
That you'd be a mere memory,
Staining pages with deep-blue ink.

Life is unkind,
Running from you when you're far from home,
Far from your children, your life.

Our life has changed,
Not so much as yours,
Since we did not face away.

A memorial of sorts,
They told me to make a speech,
Honour you.

Honour is interesting,
So easy to lose,
But hard to gain.

He is my father,
Wether his skin is warm,
Wether his blood runs at all.

I never thought I'd outlive my father,
Never thought one day he'd fall to the ground,
And slowly be lowered into the soils of the Earth.

I never thought I'd make it out alive,
And be twenty, and twenty-something more,
And yet here I am, old and yet unwrinkled by the passage of time.

It was supposed to be me, 
I sometimes think.
Maybe it would be easier for everyone else.

Because I miss me when you were still here,
But I cannot remember who I was at all,
As a child who can yet walk.

"Those were two poems," Ao'nung whispers, and somehow he can no longer hear the pounding music of the Halloween party, nor feel the embarrassing nature of his overly-well-made tulkun costume.

Neteyam nods, teeth sinking into the soft skin of his lower lip. "Yeah, it's two."

Ao'nung cannot remember anything after that, but he can remember the poem as clear as day.

 

---

 

"Where are you going?" Kiri asks as she lounges on the sofa with Lo'ak and Spider a few days later.

Neteyam pauses by the doorway, wallet and phone in hand. He shifts awkwardly and clears his throat. "Out...?"

Lo'ak snorts, but Kiri speaks first. "I come to visit you, and you leave?"

"Where you going, bro?" Spider perks up, setting his 0.0% cider down.

Neteyam bites the inside of his cheek and looks to the side helplessly. He's already got his earbuds in, but they are yet to play music. "Ah— it's an event."

Kiri sighs. "But what kind? Is it a gang or something?"

Neteyam scoffs, offence seeping into his body. "No— it's kind of a poetry club."

Lo'ak and Spider share a look.
Kiri tilts her head and leans forward as she sits. "To analyse existing poems or to show your own?"

Neteyam swallows. "To read our own ones..."

"Can I come?" Kiri beams. 

The eldest Sully boy pauses. "If you want."

"Hell yes!" Kiri grins and jumps to her feet. She grabs her bag and coat and bounds over to the door, leaving behind a very dumbfounded Lo'ak and Spider.

They leave arm in arm, Kiri lagging behind to locate one of the few poems she's ever written, in case she might read her own aloud.

"Why did you wanna come?" Neteyam asks eventually as they walk along the streets. "It's not really that exciting."

"Are you going to read a poem today?" Kiri asks instead.

"Not today, probably. I've been showing them too often these days."

Kiri hums. "Who all will be there?"

Neteyam shrugs and sidesteps freshly spit gum. "Kaey comes. He's kind of the leader. I can't remember anyone else. I haven't come that often and I've only ever spoken to Kaey." 

"Kaey is a poet?" Kiri raises a brow. "Wait, he's the one who invited you all to that wedding, right?"

"Yeah. That's him. A married man." Neteyam nods in the direction they're supposed to go and relaxes when they don't run into anyone as they turn the corner and arrive at their destination at a smaller library. 

Inside, they're both greeted by friendly faces and the man himself. They exchange words and linger a bit before the small group of people all sit down facing a small, old podium and tiny microphone, watching Kaey as he rambled about some things. 

He introduces Kiri to the group and instructs people to say their own names to her too.

"Would you like to read us a poem?" He smiles, eyes crinkling gently as he stands, shifting from one foot to the other on the little podium.  "It's fine if you don't have any prepared for now." 

Kiri scratches the back of her head but stands regardless, grabbing her phone. "It's okay, I have something."

Kaey grins, stepping aside and letting her take his spot. "Here you go. We usually read our stuff up here."

"It's not really a poem that follows any rules. I'm not sure it even rhymes—" she clears her throat.

"That's fine, no worries." Kaey sits down at the front and motions for her to begin.

Neteyam glances around the room at the unknown (and few known) faces. He notices a few people looking genuinely intrigued by Kiri, eyes twinkling in interest, gaze clear and open. 

Kiri clears her throat again, fingers hesitating over the text on her screen. Her lips are dry; her tongue flicks over the light pink skin and she sighs, shoulders rising and falling. "Right. Okay. Here I go."

Neteyam leans forward, mouth parting slightly. 

"I can still remember, the taste of innocence on my tongue, when I was eleven or something close anyway. I got my first big-girl phone, when touch screens were new and so cool. Pink and the only game upon it some dice. I never used it, but once I dropped it walking with my mother on a rainy night, missing my pocket, leaving it behind. No-one had taken it when I went back to look for it." She shifts and glances at the crowd. "It lay on the ground, leaving a mark that forever exists in my mind. Never can I forget the first gadget which allowed me to access the Great Big World Wide Web. I was mayhaps no more than twelve, my hair longer, cheeks rounder. My bedtime was nine, but nobody noticed my mischief, for I read on my phone until ten. Now I linger awake until the early morning, my soul tight with stress. It's been near a decade, or maybe more, and I lost control. Where is the girl who had everything under control? Why can I no longer follow the rules I myself set? Though I may be the same person, am I really still Her? I no longer keep glitter on my shelves, no, nor do I still have a dog. My bed doesn't have fancy purple curtains above it, a true princess bedroom dream. But I still like purple and I like pink. Some things never change. But some things never stay the same." 

Kiri pauses, eyes lingering on the faces in the crowd. "My body feels heavy, laced with sadness. I'm still her. But she was young and innocent. Now I'm old and used and I cannot help but wonder— I cannot help but wonder, how come I have secrets now? Dirty ones, of boys and men."

Neteyam's brows furrow; he glances towards Kaey, who has lifted a hand in front of his lips, listening intently.

"Her and I are the same, and yet we are so far away. She's in the stars and I'm just walking on earth, dusty and confused. My footsteps are larger, my clothes a little less brighter. My hearts a little bit heavier, my hair a little shorter. I'm a little taller. Taller than my father ever can be. He's in the stars alongside Her. And I'm just here in the arms of men who are not him. At first only one, then two, and then three and four and so many more. Well-kept secrets nobody knew. Once I had my heart broken, and once I broke a heart myself that was not my own. I've been mocked, I've been praised, lifted higher than the gods. But in the end I will only ever just be me." Kiri swallows, shoulders curling forward slightly. She lowers her gaze and pretends the crowd around her doesn't exist. "And I'm a girl, so naturally, some men think I exist just for them. And I'm a girl, maybe even a little pretty if my hair falls just right, so naturally, I can never have the same peace of mind as my brothers. And I— built these walls around me, burning spray always in my back pocket, keys between my fingers like claws because when I was fourteen, waiting for the bus to school, a man was always there, red faced and swaying a little. And I was fourteen, give or take, and he'd sit beside me on an empty ride, leg against mine, trapped against the window. I used to think these things were never to happen to me. I used to think love didn't hurt, but it does when you live a life like me. I never tell my mother these things, I'm not sure she would understand me. Because how could I tell a woman named after grace that I've been around? My timeline doesn't make sense, and that's okay, because once I was eleven years old, and had all the control of myself that I would ever need. My timeline doesn't make sense, and that's okay, because if She found out, She would break."

Silence lingers for a moment before Kaey stands up, hesitant. Kiri locks her phone and shifts uncomfortably, hands slipping into her pockets. She stays silent.

Kaey steps up beside her, resting a hand on her tense shoulder. "That was— I don't think I can top that."

There's a murmur of agreement.

Kiri waves her hand. "That's silly— it isn't even a real poem." 

"Is it shaped like one where you wrote it?" Kaey asks.

Kiri opens her mouth, but then pauses. "Well, yeah, but—" 

"Then it's a poem. And it was great." He pats her upper arm and offers a toothy grin. "Are you feeling comfortable enough to discuss it with everyone?"

She cringes. "Not really." 

"Well, that's fine," Kaey hums, eyes roaming along the people. "Then someone else can read. What about you, Stella?"

"Sure, wait a second."

Chapter 91: Luck Dried Up

Summary:

We begin the next part of our journey: The Downfall

Yes, that means be worried.

Notes:

I know last chapter was probably confusing/uninteresting BUT it was important 🥸

---

Mark Ishan's Luck Dried Up plays in Neteyam's earbuds as he sits on a bench on campus, scarf around his neck, nose red from the cold. A sense of gloom lingers around him in the most gentle way. It feels like something is missing from his life. It's exam season — not a lot of students are still around. Classes are officially over.

A girl, navigating the corridors with her messy hair and piercings, notices Neteyam from a distance. A subtle intuition stirs within her as she recognizes the dark braids and golden eyeliner from poetry club. Drawn by an inexplicable connection, she decides to approach the bench where Neteyam sits, the strains of "Luck Dried Up" fading as she steps into his world.

"Mind if I join you?" She asks, her voice carrying a blend of warmth and curiosity. The campus, now a canvas for unforeseen connections, sets the stage for a tale entwined with friendship, and the promise of unexpected bonds.

Neteyam startles, taking out his earbuds. He sits up a little straighter and clears his throat. She's so familiar, and yet he cannot grasp where he's seen her.
"No, it's alright."
He has nothing else to say, nervousness twitching in his stomach as he anticipates her response. She's not quite anyone he's ever spoken to.

Emily, with a small, understanding smile, takes a seat beside Neteyam on the bench. The quietude of the campus amplifies the gravity of their shared silence.

"Luck Dried Up," she remarks, gesturing to Neteyam's unlocked phone. "Beautiful choice. It resonates, doesn't it?" Her eyes, holding a depth of understanding, seem to echo the unspoken pain that Neteyam carries.

As they sit in gentle quiet, the wind rustles through the surrounding trees, a subtle reminder of the interconnected stories awaiting discovery. In this unassuming moment, a fragile thread binds Neteyam and the girl.

Neteyam doesn't know her name, but he feels so off, he forgets his manners and just sits, body rigid, beside her. Their next poetry meeting starts in thirty minutes, there's time to spare. He longs to make a meaningful connection to her, but he doesn't know how.
"It's a...Nice song."

Emily nods, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "Nice, yes. But I can sense there's more beneath the surface, just like the quiet moments before a storm." She pauses, choosing her words with care. "Songs have a way of mirroring our own untold stories. What's yours, Neteyam?"

The question lingers in the air, a gentle invitation for him to share the chapters of his life that remain concealed. The bench becomes a sanctuary where the complexities of their individual tales might converge into a shared narrative.

Neteyam's brows twitch. His eyes ghost over the silver earrings adorning her ears and he swallows, mouth dry, unsure and unused to the bold nature of the girl beside him. The wind tussles his hair as it blows her bangs away from her forehead. She smoothes her hair back into place.
"My story?" At her nod, he continues. "I'm grieving."

Emily's expression softens, understanding the weight of loss. "Grieving is a journey through shadows," she replies gently. "And sometimes, sharing that burden makes the path a bit lighter. If you ever want to talk, I'm here."

As the wind weaves through the campus, it seems to carry with it an unspoken connection, a shared vulnerability between Neteyam and Emily. The upcoming poetry meeting holds the promise of more revelations, a space where their stories may find expression through carefully chosen words.

"Thanks," he replies, voice weak, almost a whisper. "What's your story?"

A contemplative expression crosses Emily's face as she considers his question. She takes a moment before responding, her words carrying a mixture of resilience and guarded vulnerability.

"I carry my own shadows, like everyone else. Poems are my way of letting them breathe, finding solace in the ink and paper." Her gaze meets his, a silent invitation to peer into the depths of her untold chapters. The approaching poetry meeting stands as a threshold, beckoning them to explore the intricate prose of their intertwined stories.

"What's your major?" Neteyam tilts his head, heart beating oddly fast in anticipation.

"I'm studying psychology," Emily responds, a faint smile touching her lips. "Delving into the complexities of the mind helps me navigate my own labyrinth of thoughts. And you, Neteyam, what path does your academic journey follow?"

The question hangs in the air, a bridge between their personal narratives and the shared space of the university campus. The bench becomes a transient meeting place, where academic pursuits and the echoes of hidden stories converge.

"I'm a little difficult," he mumbles.

She cracks a smile. "I like difficult."

"I'm double majoring. Biology and International relations." He shifts and crosses his legs. "Minoring in Korean."

Emily's smile widens, genuine interest sparkling in her eyes. "Double majoring and minoring—that's quite the academic venture. What led you to such a diverse combination?"

As the minutes tick away, the bench transforms into a confessional, a place where academic ambitions and personal complexities converge. The melody of "Luck Dried Up" seems to linger, threading through their conversation like an unspoken connection waiting to unfold.

"A close friend—" Neteyam cuts himself off, feeling his ring against his finger under his gloves. "Friend at the time, now fiancé. He chose biology and I thought I'd do the same."

The mention of a close friend-turned-fiancé adds a layer of intrigue to the unfolding narrative. Emily leans in, a subtle understanding in her eyes. "Love often leaves its imprint on the choices we make. Biology becomes more than a major; it's a shared journey, a connection woven into the fabric of your academic pursuit. And Korean for the whispers of a shared language, perhaps?"

The wind carries with it the sense of untold stories, as if the campus itself is a witness to the intricacies of their lives. The poetry meeting looms, promising a space where words may bridge the gaps between past, present, and the uncharted future.

A laugh startles from his lips. "No. We're both native."

"You're native?" She asks simply.

"Well, mixed, actually. He's not, though."

Emily's curiosity deepens, and a thoughtful expression graces her features. "Mixed heritage holds its own rich tapestry of stories. It shapes who we are in ways we might not always anticipate. How does your Native heritage weave into your life and identity, Neteyam?"

Neteyam has no idea how to answer. "We have a religion— a Goddess. And... traditional foods, songs... I've learnt most. Where are you from?"

Emily's eyes glint with genuine interest. "I come from a place with rolling hills and stories whispered in the breeze. The traditions and folklore of my heritage are etched into the landscape. It's a connection that grounds me." She pauses, as if considering the weight of her words. "Our backgrounds, our stories, they shape the lenses through which we see the world. I'd love to hear more about your Goddess and the songs that carry the echoes of your heritage."

The way she speaks is entirely foreign to him. Somehow, she's poetic even with the simplest sentences and seems to firmly believe the truth of her own words. Neteyam would usually find such a way of speaking pretentious, but it suits her and her messy hair.

"I can tell you about it another time. It's kind of complex."

Emily nods, respecting the nuances of his response. "Complexities are like layers of a story waiting to unfold when the time is right. Whenever you're ready, I'll be here to listen." She leans back on the bench, a comfortable silence settling between them, as if the unspoken understanding is enough for now.

"Would you like to read my poem?" Emily perks up. "It's a Sonett."
Neteyam's eyes light up with genuine interest. "I'd love to." The prospect of glimpsing into Emily's poetic world seems to intrigue him, a bridge connecting their stories through the medium of verse.

Neteyam has no idea what rules a sonnet follows, and little does he know, neither does she.

 

---

 

Neteyam finds himself in the bustling university library, surrounded by the soft hum of whispered conversations and the occasional rustling of pages. Dressed in a worn hoodie and jeans, he sits at a secluded corner, engrossed in his biology textbook. His fingers occasionally trace the ring on his finger, a silent reminder of the connection to his fiancé. As he delves into the complexities of cellular biology, the library becomes a refuge where academic pursuits temporarily overshadow the enigmatic encounters of the day.

It's fairly quiet, but so many people in one area of course means that there is quite a lot of background noise. Usually, this would bother Neteyam, but he feels at peace for the time being. His next exam is in a few days and he still needs ro revise quite a few chapters. 

Neteyam immerses himself in the rhythm of his own studies, finding solace within the symphony of soft whispers and the ambient hum of the library. The gentle murmur of pages turning and the distant tapping of keys become the background melody to his focused revision. Each chapter he revisits is a step toward mastering the intricacies of his coursework, and despite the surrounding activity, a sense of calm settles over him.

He cannot wait for the next poetry meeting, even though Kiri won't attend any more with him due to lack of time. 

The girl, whose name Neteyam still hasn't asked (Emily), has promised to introduce him to two of her friends from the poetry club, who did not attend the last meeting.

Notes:

Some girl a floor above me is either always getting railed or jumping on the bed 🛌

Anyway
Life update: I broke up with the korean dude because I didn't develop feelings for him and it didn't seem fair to him because he wanted more from the relationship than I could give

Anyway ² it's exam season
I got two As so far 😎😎😎

Chapter 92: Last Xmas

Summary:

I mass produced these two updates and it's 2 am now lmaoo

I literally have an exam today 🙃

---

Neteyam spends the next few days confined to the apartment, battling a cold. The poetry club meeting passes without his presence, and he misses the opportunity to see the girl again. Stuck indoors with Ao'nung, Lo'ak, and Tsireya, he focuses on recovering from his illness.

The days blur together as Neteyam fights to catch up on missed study time. The looming pressure of the upcoming exam intensifies his stress, and he finds himself grappling with the weight of the material. The apartment, once a haven, now feels like a confined space amplifying his anxiety.

Neteyam's dedication to his studies becomes a solitary battle, the silence broken only by the rustling pages of textbooks and the soft hum of the ventilation system. As the hours pass, his frustration grows, and the sense of being behind gnaws at him.

Unable to shake the worry that he might not grasp everything in time, Neteyam's determination turns into a relentless pursuit of knowledge. The support of his apartment mates becomes a lifeline, yet the specter of academic pressure casts a shadow over his attempts to regain control.

In the midst of this struggle, the absent notes from the poetry meeting become a poignant reminder of the connections he briefly forged. The girl, Emily, and the promise of meeting her friends now seem like distant echoes, drowned out by the urgency of exam preparation. As Neteyam navigates the delicate balance between recovery and academic demands, the uncertainty of the future intensifies the weight on his shoulders.

Lo'ak and Tsireya are not home. Neteyam actually cannot remember where his little brother said he would go. Probably ice skating.

Neteyam's red, raw nose (from all the evil tissues) does not long for such shenanigans.

 

---

 

"So, what's the plan for today?" Ao'nung asks, leaning back on the couch.

Neteyam raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "How about we raid the kitchen and attempt to cook something that doesn't involve instant noodles?"

Ao'nung grins. "Challenge accepted. Just don't set anything on fire."

As they make their way to the kitchen, the banter continues, filling the air with the easy camaraderie that had developed over years of shared experiences. Little did they know, another adventure awaited them in the culinary realm, adding another chapter to the stories they would tell for years to come.

"As if I'd set anything on fire," Neteyam snorts, nudging Ao'nung with his elbow. "I'm not my brother." 

Ao'nung chuckles, giving Neteyam a playful shove. "Fair enough, but let's aim for something edible this time. Deal?"

They share a grin as they reach the kitchen, ready to embark on their culinary escapade.

Their laughter resonates in the cozy kitchen, blending with the warmth that comes from more than just shared jokes. As they work side by side, their fingers brush occasionally, sending subtle sparks that only deepen the connection between them.

Neteyam glances at Ao'nung, his eyes softening. "You know, I love the way you look when you concentrate on something."

Ao'nung blushes, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "And I love the way you make even cooking an adventure."

In the midst of chopping vegetables and measuring ingredients, their engagement rings catch the light, a silent promise of a future filled with more shared moments, both ordinary and extraordinary. The kitchen becomes a canvas for their love, each dish a testament to the flavors they add to each other's lives.

"You're so cheesy," Neteyam whines, grabbing a fork.

"You started it," Ao'nung hums, smirking. He feigns innocence. "You've done and made my heart flutter and my insides a squiggly mess, honey."

Neteyam rolls his eyes but can't hide the affectionate smile tugging at his lips. "Well, get ready for more cheesy moments because I'm not planning on stopping anytime soon."

As they continue their banter, the air in the kitchen becomes infused with a sweet blend of love and playfulness, turning a simple cooking endeavor into a cherished memory in the making.

Something in the moment feels alright, like whatever weight is on Neteyam's shoulders, he can carry. The rhythm of their banter and the shared tasks in the kitchen create a soothing melody, temporarily lifting the burdens of the outside world.

Ao'nung notices the subtle change in Neteyam's demeanor and places a reassuring hand on his back. "You okay, Tey?"

Neteyam looks into Ao'nung's eyes, a genuine warmth replacing the earlier weariness. "Yeah, more than okay. It's just... being here with you, it's like everything else fades away."

Ao'nung smiles, a silent understanding passing between them. In the simple act of preparing a meal together, they find solace and strength in each other's company, reaffirming the unspoken promise to face life's challenges as a team.

Ao'nung lays a kiss on Neteyam's forehead and smiles when the shorter male nuzzles against him. The gesture is a silent exchange of affection that speaks volumes, a reminder of the comfort found in each other's presence.

As they stand in the kitchen, surrounded by the aroma of their culinary experiment, the outside world fades away. It's just the two of them, wrapped in a moment that transcends the ordinary. In the quiet intimacy of the kitchen, love is expressed not only through words but also through tender touches and shared warmth, creating a sanctuary that feels like home.

"When is your next exam?" Neteyam asks eventually.

Ao'nung glances at the ceiling, a playful grin on his face. "Not for a while. Why? Planning to distract me from studying?"

Neteyam chuckles, shaking his head. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just looking forward to celebrating with you once it's over."

"Well, the Christmas themed campus parties are definitely something, as I heard," Ao'nung says, chopping up some vegetables. "It's another reason for girls to wear mini dresses and stuff."

"You don't sound impressed."

Ao'nung's lips curl down. "Cause Tsireya has taken to mini skirts."

Neteyam snorts. "I would wear mini skirts if I was a woman."

Ao'nung laughs, shaking his head. "You'd probably pull it off better than half the people there. But let's focus on our own celebration for now. No mini skirts required."

"What are we celebrating?" Neteyam asks gently, tilting his head.

Ao'nung shrugs. "Existing, I guess. That's a nice thing to celebrate."

Neteyam smiles, a soft warmth in his eyes. "You know, you have a point. Existing with you makes it even better."

In the simplicity of their celebration, chopping vegetables and preparing a meal together, they find joy in the shared journey of existence, recognizing the beauty in the ordinary moments that form the tapestry of their life together.

 

---

 

A few weeks later, Ao'nung and Neteyam find themselves at a lively campus party. The festive atmosphere is contagious, with colored lights decorating the venue and music filling the air. They navigate through the crowd, their hands entwined, enjoying the energy of the gathering.

As they mingle with friends and dance to the music, they suddenly spot Emily across the room. She's surrounded by a group of people, laughing and chatting animatedly.

Ao'nung nudges Neteyam, nodding in Emily's direction. "Look who's here," Ao'nung says, a curious smile on his face.

Neteyam follows Ao'nung's gaze and spots Emily. "You know her?"

"Yeah, we met a while back," Ao'nung replies, squeezing Neteyam's hand. "Let's go say hi."

They make their way through the vibrant crowd, and when they reach Emily, her eyes light up with recognition. "Ao'nung! Neteyam! What a pleasant surprise," she greets them warmly, embracing each in turn.

Neteyam smiles, feeling the warmth of friendship. "It's been a while. How have you been?"

Emily shares stories of her recent adventures, and they catch up on each other's lives amidst the pulsating beats of the music. The party becomes a fusion of laughter, shared memories, and the electric energy of the moment. 

"I didn't realize you were the fiancé Neteyam mentioned!" Emily yells over the music.

Ao'nung grins, nodding. "Guilty as charged. Neteyam can't stop talking about you either."

Neteyam laughs, playfully nudging Ao'nung. His cheeks tint. "Hush. That's not even close to being true."

Emily snorts. "Well, mostly good things, I hope."

The three of them share a moment of laughter, the music and cheers of the party forming a backdrop to the reunion. 

"I didn't realize he was talking about you," Ao'nung laughs. "He never said your name when he was talking about you. I thought it was another girl."

Emily chuckles, shaking her head. "Well, I hope the stories weren't too scandalous."

Neteyam interjects with a grin, "Oh, just enough to keep it interesting."

"Who did you come with?" Emily asks eventually.

Neteyam glances around, but doesn't see the rest of his friend group anywhere. He hopes Lo'ak and Spider aren't being too crazy. "My brother and his fiancée and some friends."

Emily raises an eyebrow. "Your brother? The one who set the kitchen on fire?"

Neteyam laughs, recalling the earlier banter. "Yeah, that's him. Turns out he's a bit of a cooking hazard. I can't believe you go around telling people about that, Ao'nung."

Ao'nung rolls his eyes with a smirk, "But at least the fire department hasn't been called to any parties yet."

Emily laughs, enjoying the shared humor. "Well, it sounds like you have an eventful family. I'm just glad your brother hasn't brought his kitchen adventures to the campus parties."

Neteyam grins. "Me too. I don't think the party venue is equipped for impromptu fire shows."

Neteyam is surprised that Ao'nung knows the girl from the poetry club, but he isn't complaining. This way, introductions are easier, since they don't even need to be done.

Ao'nung catches Neteyam's surprised expression and grins, leaning in to whisper, "Small world, huh? Turns out we share more connections than we thought."

Neteyam nods, a pleased smile spreading across his face. 

"By connections, you mean people we run into?" Neteyam asks, seeking clarification.

Ao'nung chuckles, nodding. "Exactly. It's like the universe conspiring to make our social circles overlap. Makes life interesting, doesn't it?"

As they share a lighthearted moment, the party around them continues to pulse with energy. 

"Next thing I find out might be that you know my sister," Neteyam laughs, turning to face Emily.

Emily grins. "Wouldn't that be something? Who knows, the world seems small tonight."

Someone stumbles by them, drunk out of his mind, followed by two girls, who are both worried but highly entertained by their friend.Neteyam snorts in amusement. "It's like seeing my brother. He fell into a bush once at one of these parties."

"I was there—" Ao'nung cackles, patting Neteyam's back. "In fact, there must be a video of it. It's very vine-worthy."

Emily watches the two of them with a smile, enjoying the camaraderie and shared laughter. "Sounds like your brother knows how to make memories at parties. We should all hope for such entertaining nights."

"It will give me gray hairs, but cheers to that." Neteyam raises an imaginary glass, earning some laughs.

Chapter 93: A Trio of Four

Summary:

I'm so excited for the new characters, I hope you like them 🥸

Theyre gonna be pretty important for Neteyam's character development 🤓

---

As Neteyam wearily steps into the poetry club meeting, the weight of the recent exam still lingering in his mind, he notices the familiar faces gathered in the room. Emily is engaged in a lively conversation with a group of club members, her eyes lighting up as she shares snippets of her day.

Absently searching for his second favorite Metcayina, Neteyam realizes his absence, leaving a void in the usual dynamic of the group. Curiosity nags at him about the undisclosed reasons for his nonattendance, but he decides not to pry, respecting the privacy of his friend.

Joining the circle, Neteyam catches Emily's eye, and a warm smile crosses her face. "Neteyam, you made it! How are you feeling after the exam?"

He manages a tired grin. "Surviving. Barely. But I couldn't miss the poetry club."

The meeting unfolds with a mix of emotions woven into the verses and anecdotes shared by the members. Despite the fatigue and the lingering stress from the exam, Neteyam finds solace in the rhythmic cadence of spoken words and the camaraderie of the poetry club.

As the meeting progresses, he discovers new layers in the verses and gains insights from the diverse perspectives of the poets present. Emily's poem, a captivating blend of vulnerability and strength, resonates with him, providing a temporary escape from the academic challenges that persist.

Amidst the verses and shared stories, Neteyam finds a sense of connection that transcends the confines of his recent struggles. The poetry club becomes a sanctuary where the power of words and shared experiences allows him to momentarily set aside the weight of exams and embrace the healing rhythm of creativity.

There's a break after a boy Neteyam has never seen before has read his work. Neteyam doesn't hesitate to locate his bag to find some water.

Emily steps up beside him. "Fancy a smoke?"

Neteyam nods, realizing his parched throat could use a momentary reprieve. He retrieves a water bottle from his bag and takes a few swigs, grateful for the soothing sensation.

As he puts the water bottle back into his bag, Emily's offer catches his attention. Her suggestion of a smoke brings a contemplative expression to Neteyam's face. After a moment, he smiles and replies, "Sure, why not? Stepping outside sounds like a good idea."

They step outside the venue, finding a quiet spot where the hushed murmur of the poetry club meeting serves as a distant backdrop. Emily produces a pack of cigarettes, offering one to Neteyam. They share a quiet moment, the soft glow of the cigarette providing a gentle contrast to the dimly lit surroundings.

In the midst of the shared smoke, Neteyam and Emily engage in casual conversation, discussing the poems they've heard and exchanging thoughts on the unique voices within the club. The rhythmic inhale and exhale of the smoke seem to mirror the ebb and flow of their dialogue.

The break becomes a tranquil interlude, allowing Neteyam to recharge both physically and emotionally. The camaraderie of the poetry club extends beyond the confines of spoken words, finding expression in the shared moments of respite and connection. As they finish their cigarettes, Neteyam feels a renewed sense of calm, ready to rejoin the poetry club meeting with a refreshed perspective.

Neteyam has hardly ever smoked before. He can't say he hasn't tried, but he certainly has not made it a habit. Still, he cannot find himself regretting sharing a moment with Emily.

As Neteyam takes a final drag from the cigarette, he exhales slowly, feeling a mix of the familiar and the novel. The subtle buzz and the calming effect of the smoke linger in the air. While smoking isn't a regular part of his routine, the shared moment with Emily becomes more about the experience than the habit itself.

He glances at Emily, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thanks for the break. It's been a while since I've done this."

Emily returns the smile, tapping off the ashes from her cigarette. "Sometimes, a little deviation from the usual is exactly what you need."

Neteyam nods in agreement, appreciating the sentiment. The brief interlude becomes a unique chapter in the ongoing narrative of their connection, a shared experience etched into the fabric of their evolving friendship within the poetry club.

As they prepare to reenter the venue, the distant hum of voices and the anticipation of more spoken words fill the air. Neteyam takes a moment to savor the blend of the familiar and the unexpected, grateful for the poetry that extends beyond the written lines, weaving through the moments between the lines of their lives.

"I'll introduce you to my friends once we're finished with the poems, " Emily says as they make their way inside. 

Neteyam nods, a sense of anticipation building as they head back into the poetry club meeting. The atmosphere inside is alive with the rhythmic cadence of spoken words and the occasional applause. As they find their seats, Neteyam looks forward to the prospect of meeting Emily's friends and expanding his circle within the vibrant community they've both become a part of.

The next round of poems begins, and Neteyam immerses himself in the diverse expressions of emotion and thought. With each word shared, he discovers new perspectives, and the collective energy of the poetry club becomes a source of inspiration.

As the meeting progresses, Neteyam can't help but feel grateful for the connections forged through the shared love of poetry.

Inside, he sits beside Emily and chatters with her whenever a new poem is presented. She's one of the loudest praisers of his own works whenever he feels up to showing the group one of his writings. 

Once the sessions ends, they all stand and begin to get dressed.

"How about we go over to my friends now?" Emily beams, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. She's switched out her piercings, Neteyam notes to himself. "Before they have a chance to escape." 

"Okay," Neteyam responds simply.

"Awesome—" she grins ans grabs him by the wrist. "Come, come. They're both awesome. You'll see."

"I don't doubt you," Neteyam murmurs softly, cheeks tinting with nerves as he realises he will be talking to complete strangers.

In the cozy corner of the university café, Emily gathers Neteyam, Odette, and Jason for the long-awaited introduction. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the hum of animated conversations around them. Neteyam, curious yet composed, greets Odette and Jason with a warm smile.

"Neteyam, meet Odette and Jason," Emily says, gesturing to each in turn. "Odette, our poetic soul with a pen dipped in mystery, and Jason, the vibrant heartbeat of our group."

Odette offers a reserved but friendly smile, her eyes reflecting the depth of introspection beneath her layered exterior. "Nice to finally meet you, Neteyam. Emily has spoken highly of you and your poetic prowess."

Jason extends a hearty hand in greeting, exuding the same warmth that had drawn Neteyam into the poetry club fold. "Hey, man! Emily's right—you bring something special to the poetic table. Excited to have you with us."

Neteyam reciprocates the gestures, finding himself at ease in the company of these intriguing personalities. "Thanks. It's — it's nice to meet you guys."

As they settle into the comfortable rhythm of shared introductions and laughter, the eclectic blend of personalities within the group becomes evident. Odette's enigmatic aura contrasts with Jason's exuberance, creating a dynamic balance that draws Neteyam into the rich tapestry of their friendship. Emily, the common thread weaving them together, watches with satisfaction as her diverse circle of friends begins to intertwine in a harmonious dance of camaraderie.

The café's ambient chatter provides a backdrop to their growing connection, and as they delve into discussions about life, poetry, and the intricacies of their shared experiences, Neteyam realizes that this introduction is not  a mere formality. It marks the beginning of a deeper connection, a shared journey through the verses of their lives that extends beyond the confines of the poetry club meetings.

In this lively exchange of stories and laughter, Neteyam senses the potential for genuine friendships that transcend the boundaries of university life. As the conversation flows, each member of the group contributes a unique note to the symphony of their shared existence, creating a melody that resonates with the authenticity of true camaraderie.

"We should grab some drinks," Jason suggests, all teeth as he grins.

Odette, lacking any jewelry and makeup, tucks a perfectly curled strand of her rich brown locks behind her ear and smiles. "Count me in."

Jason's grins shifts to a playful smirk. His long, black hair has come loose from his ponytail. He works on retying it casually as be speaks. "You two coming?" 

"I don't see why not," Emily says, adjusting her coat. 

Jason's eyebrows wiggle. "We need to celebrate still being living and breathing creatures in these trying times." 

"What are you talking about?" Odette laughs behind her hand. 

"Exam seasons!" Jason deadpans, a silly glint in his eyes.

Laughter ripples through the group as they gather their belongings, ready to embrace the lively atmosphere of a night out. The contrast of Jason's exuberance with Odette's understated elegance and Emily's quiet strength creates a dynamic blend of personalities.

As they step out into the cool night air, the city lights cast a gentle glow on their path. Jason, the instigator of this impromptu celebration, leads the way with a casual swagger that reflects both confidence and playfulness. Odette, with her timeless simplicity, and Emily, with a touch of mystery, follow suit, creating a trio of characters ready to paint the town with the brushstrokes of their shared moments.

Neteyam walks beside them, confused and drawn to this new groul of people so different from his other friends, yet somehow similar.

The pub's entrance beckons, and as they step inside, the ambient sounds of clinking glasses and distant laughter envelop them. Jason, true to form, heads towards the bar, his grin undiminished. "First round's on me!" he declares, signaling the start of a night that promises not only celebration but also the forging of deeper connections.

"What do you guys wanna get?" Jason tilts his head, leaning against the wall as they wait out the short line already queued up to order.

"What do they have?" POdette asks.

Jason snorts and gesutes to the pictures of drinks plastered on the wall right next to Odette. "All these beers."

Neteyam frowns, and the tall, tan-skinned male immediately notices. "What's wrong, little poet? You don't see anything you like?"

Neteyam, a sheepish smile on his face, shrugs helplessly. "Not a fan of beer, really."

Jason tuts, hands landing on his hips playfully. "Don't worry. These are good. There's fruity variants, surely one will suit your tastes. What do you normally drink?"

Neteyam flushes. "Passion fruit cider?"

"Jesus—" Emily laughs. "You're a little fairy, aren't you, Neteyam?"

"So, fruity little things, it is. You like plum?" Jason asks. "There's a plum flavoured one."

Neteyam's cheeks deepen in color, but he chuckles at Emily's teasing. "Yeah, plum sounds good. Thanks, Jason."

Odette, with a subtle smile, leans in and adds, "I'll go with the same."

Jason, pleased with their choices, winks at Neteyam. "Plum cider for the fairy and plum cider for the mystery whisperer, too. Got it."

As they approach the bar, the lively chatter and clinking glasses form a backdrop to their order. Jason, ever the charismatic presence, strikes up a conversation with the bartender, making the process feel like a communal experience. Neteyam, Odette, and Emily exchange amused glances, appreciating the camaraderie that extends even to the simple act of ordering drinks.

"I'll pay for the next round," Emily says casually as they wait for Jason to finish his quiet of befriending anything that talks.

Once their glasses are filled with the chosen beers, they find a cozy corner of the pub, claiming a table that offers a view of both the lively crowd and the stage where a local band is setting up. The night unfolds with sips of beer, shared stories, and the unspoken understanding that these diverse friends have found a unique harmony in their connections.

As the band begins to play, the music becomes a backdrop to their laughter and conversation, blending into the mosaic of their shared experience. In this eclectic mix of personalities, Neteyam discovers that the true celebration lies not just in surviving exams but in embracing the authenticity of the moments they create together. The pub becomes a canvas for the strokes of friendship, where the flavors of fruity ciders and the cadence of laughter intertwine, painting a picture of a night that transcends the challenges of university life.

Once it's his turn, as the last of the group to pay for a round of drinks, Neteyam finds himself bordering drunk. Odette seems to be in no better conditions, but Emily and Jason seem just fine, if a little red cheeked and louder than before.

"Tell us a secret, Dreamcatcher," Emily grins, referring to Jason. 

The long-haired male snorts, rolling his eyes. "What secret?"

"Why is he a dreamcatcher?" Neteyam blurts out, unable to help himself.

Jason chuckles, taking a sip of his drink before answering Neteyam's question. "Well, it's a nickname Emily gave me because she says I have a way of catching dreams and turning them into reality."

Emily nods in agreement. "He's the one who encouraged me to join the poetry club. Called it a dream worth catching, and here we are."

Odette, her usually reserved demeanor softened by the effects of the drinks, leans in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What about you, Neteyam? Any dreams you're catching?"

Caught off guard, Neteyam pauses, considering the question. The warmth from the alcohol has loosened his inhibitions, and he smiles, sharing a glimpse of his aspirations. "Well—"

Jason cuts him, thrown into a fit of coughs from his laughter. "We're lying— I did tell Emily that but Dreamcatcher is an attempt insult people in elementary school tried on me because of my heritage. It's weak as hell though so I picked it as my nickname."

Neteyam's expression shifts from thoughtful to surprised as Jason interjects with the revelation about the origin of his nickname.

He blinks in amusement, realizing that the assumptions and perceptions about the name took an unexpected turn.

"Oh, really?" Neteyam chuckles, exchanging a glance with Emily, who seems just as amused. "Well, I suppose nicknames have a way of acquiring their own stories. Dreamcatcher or not, it suits you, Jason."

The group bursts into laughter, the lighthearted atmosphere of the pub amplifying the camaraderie among them.

 

---

 

Neteyam arrives home in the early evening, dragging his feet and swaying slightly. 

His little brother and Tsireya are in their room by now, and Neteyam can hear them watching a movie. 

Ao'nung is in the living, laptop resting beside him on the sofa as he taps away on his phone. He perks up when Neteyam closes the door behind himself and struggles to get his coat off.

Ao'nung notices the state Neteyam is in and chuckles. "You weren't kidding when you said you're getting drinks." 

Neteyam pauses, struggling to comprehend the words falling from his fiancé's lips. He squints. "Ah. Yeah. Emily introduced me to two of her friends and we all payed for a round of beer."

"You don't like beer—" Ao'nung lifts a brow, coming over to help peel Neteyam out of his winter clothes.

Neteyam scrunches his nose. "Well. It was plum flavoured. But I didn't want to tell them that it's horrid. I was called a fairy already because I prefer ciders."

Ao'nung chuckles as he helps Neteyam with his coat. "Seems like Emily's friends are an interesting bunch. How did it go?"

Neteyam sways a bit, still feeling the effects of the drinks. "Yeah, interesting is one way to put it. They're not like my usual crowd, but it was... good, I think. We're going out again sometime."

Ao'nung smiles, guiding Neteyam to the living room. "Well, as long as you had a good time. And you're not too drunk, are you?"

Neteyam grins, attempting to stand a bit straighter. "No, no, just a bit buzzed. I can still hold a conversation. Ask me something!"

Ao'nung laughs, settling on the sofa with Neteyam. "Alright, how about this: What's the most surprising thing you learned about Emily's friends?"

Neteyam leans back, pondering the question. "Hmm, probably that one of them, Jason, has a nickname 'Dreamcatcher' because Emily says he has a way of catching dreams and turning them into reality. Turns out, it's a childhood insult he embraced. It's funny how nicknames can have unexpected stories."

Ao'nung chuckles. "That does sound amusing. Well, it sounds like you had an eventful evening. I'm glad you're home."

Neteyam nods, a content smile on his face. "Yeah, me too. It was different, but good. Maybe you'll meet them sometime."

Ao'nung raises an eyebrow playfully. "Looking to integrate me into your newfound group of friends, are you?"

Neteyam grins. "Well, they're a lively bunch. You might enjoy it."

"Sure, sure," Ao'nung chuckles. "Who smokes? The smell is sticking to you."

"Emily—" Neteyam hums, failing to mention his little cigarette adventure as well. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I saw Jason with one of those electric ones. Doesn't matter. We stepped out to get some air a few times. It was so stuffy inside that pub."

"Did you like it?"

"The pub?" Neteyam asks as the sit down and wrap themselves in a blanket.

Ao'nung grins, amused by Neteyam's slight confusion. "No, not the pub. I meant the night out with Emily and her friends. Did you enjoy it?"

Neteyam smiles, a hint of warmth in his eyes. "Yeah, I did. It was different from what I'm used to, but... in a good way. Jason and Odette aare quite the characters, and Emily, well, she's just as vibrant as always."

Ao'nung nods, appreciating Neteyam's enthusiasm. "It's good that you're expanding your social circle. Variety adds spice to life."

Neteyam leans into Ao'nung, the blanket providing a cozy warmth. "I think you'd get along with them. Jason's energy alone is something else."

Ao'nung chuckles, running his fingers through Neteyam's hair. "Mahbe. Now, let's relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. Movie night with your brother and Tsireya?"

Neteyam nods, content. "Sounds perfect." As they settle in for the evening, the warmth of shared moments and the anticipation of more to come create a comforting atmosphere in their home.

Chapter 94: Self-care

Summary:

I actually have something devastating planned and I'm wiggling my toes under the covers just anticipating it

Side note: I was copying this back and forth here and to wattpad to check the word count so hopefully I didn't accidentally post anything twice 🫠🤣

Notes:

Merry Christmas 🎅 🎄

 

---

 

Sometimes, the world is so absolutely devastating — like when Neteyam wakes up with a headache that he knows will not pass all day. Or when he accidentally eats dairy foods but forgets his lactase tablets. 

Other times, the world is devastating because he got a grade worse than what he's anticipated, or that time he thought he was getting his braces off, but then it got delayed. 

This time, the world is devastating because Neteyam is home alone, and he is trying to fix a clogged sink. He doesn't know how to, and the tutorial he found online doesn't help, but his father would have known, and now he cannot help but feel miserable. 

His hair is touching his neck all wrong, and his clothes actually feel like clothes against his skin. His cheeks feel too hot, and he's suddenly really thirsty, his lips are dry — it doesn't matter how many glasses of water he drinks or how many times he reapplies his lipbalm. 

 

He wants a drink. 

Or a smoke. 

Or both. 

 

Neteyam takes a deep breath, attempting to shake off the frustration that's settled over him like a heavy blanket. The sink continues to mock him with its stubborn refusal to drain properly. With a reluctant sigh, he decides to give it one more shot, determined to conquer this seemingly insurmountable task.

He rummages through the cluttered under-sink cabinet, finding an old plunger. Armed with the tool, he tackles the clog with a renewed sense of determination. Water splashes, and he winces as he contemplates the mess he's making. Yet, the sink begins to yield, draining slowly but steadily.

A sense of accomplishment washes over Neteyam as he surveys his makeshift plumbing victory. The initial frustration gives way to a small smile. Maybe he can handle more than he thinks. Still, the absence of his father's guidance lingers, casting a shadow on the success.

Seeking solace, Neteyam heads outside to his apartment complex's little backyard, where the evening air offers a momentary escape. The sun begins its descent, casting a warm glow over the surroundings. He settles into a chair, contemplating the intricacies of life and its unpredictable challenges.

His mind drifts to the more significant struggles—those headaches, the academic disappointments, the anticipation turned to disappointment. Each obstacle has shaped him in some way, molding his resilience.

With a deep exhale, Neteyam decides against reaching for a drink or a smoke. Instead, he opts for a different form of relief. He grabs his phone and calls a friend, sharing a laugh and exchanging stories. Sometimes, the world's devastation can be alleviated by the simple act of connecting with others.

As the conversation unfolds, Neteyam realizes that even in moments of solitude, there are bridges to understanding and sources of strength beyond what he initially perceives. The sink may be unclogged, but the emotional knots are a work in progress—a journey that, much like fixing a sink, requires patience and perseverance.

He misses his brother, he misses travelling with his beloved Ao'nung, and hanging out with Kiri. 

Something changed, and the magic of the world shifted. 

Neteyam misses going on long walks with his mother and baby sister, carrying around his brand new camera. He misses when he had motivation, when he took pretty notes (despite his ugly hangwriting). He misses having perfect grades. 

In the midst of his contemplation, a wave of nostalgia crashes over Neteyam. The memories of cherished moments flood his thoughts, each one a bittersweet reminder of a time when the world felt less burdensome.

Maybe they are all just growing up, having less time for one another.

He yearns for the laughter shared with his brother, the adventures with Ao'nung, and the easy camaraderie with Kiri. The dynamics that once defined his world seem distant, altered by the passage of time and the shifting currents of life.

Neteyam recalls the magic that used to accompany his travels and the joy of capturing those moments with his camera. The motivation that fueled his endeavors, reflected in meticulous notes and academic success, feels like a distant echo.

Long walks with his mother and baby sister, the weight of a camera around his neck, and the simple pleasure of bonding over shared experiences—they all contribute to a tapestry of moments now tinged with longing.

As he reflects on the changes that have unfolded, Neteyam recognizes a yearning for the versions of himself and his world that once were. The perfect grades, the neatly written notes—they served as markers of a time when the path ahead seemed clearer.

Yet, amid the ache of missing what was, Neteyam senses the possibility of rediscovery. The world may have shifted, but within these memories lies the potential to shape new narratives, to find motivation in unexpected places, and to embrace the evolving magic that life offers.

Perhaps there is something good in uncertainty. 

Because Neteyam has certainly made some good friends at the poetry club — though he spends most of his time cooped up and studying (or scrolling on his phone really. His brain feels full).

He wonders if he should try to be who he was before his father died or become a completely new person. 

He wants to spend more time with Rotxo and Spider, but at the same time, he's absolutely intrigued by Emily, Odette, and Jason. He doesn't have time for both, on top of his family. 

In the quiet moments between studying and poetry club meetings, Neteyam finds himself contemplating the crossroads of his identity. The uncertainty that once felt daunting now carries a glimmer of possibility—a chance for reinvention or a return to the person he used to be.

The poetry club becomes a refuge, a space where the weight of expectations and the echoes of loss momentarily fade away. Surrounded by words that dance off pages and voices that carry the essence of shared vulnerability, Neteyam discovers solace in the creative expressions of others.

As he navigates the delicate balance between past and present, Neteyam grapples with the question of authenticity. Should he strive to recapture the fragments of his former self, defined by moments spent with his father and the pursuits that once brought joy? Or does the path forward involve embracing a metamorphosis, allowing the uncertainties of life to shape a wholly new identity?

In the whispers of verses and the resonance of friendships forged at the poetry club, Neteyam contemplates the notion that perhaps the answer lies in a harmonious blend—a fusion of past and present, a synthesis that acknowledges the transformative power of both grief and the unknown.

The pages of his story unfold with each choice, and as Neteyam ponders the chapters yet to be written, he recognizes that the beauty of uncertainty lies in the opportunity to sculpt a narrative that reflects not only who he was but also who he aspires to become.

If only he knew who that is.

Amidst the ebb and flow of daily life, Neteyam grapples with a profound sense of uncertainty following the loss of his father. The once-familiar landscape of his existence now seems shrouded in a haze of unanswered questions and uncharted emotions.

The weight of grief hangs heavy on Neteyam's shoulders, manifesting in the mundane and the monumental. From the persistent ache of a headache to the accidental lapse in self-care, each moment becomes a silent battlefield between the echoes of what once was and the unsteady ground of an uncertain future.

The clogged sink, a seemingly trivial challenge, becomes a metaphor for the complexities that now define his world. In the absence of his father's guidance, the ordinary tasks take on an extraordinary weight, a constant reminder of the void left by a figure who once provided not just answers but a sense of stability.

As Neteyam contemplates the disarray within and around him, the allure of a drink or a smoke becomes a tempting escape—a momentary reprieve from the overwhelming cascade of thoughts and feelings. The familiar vices seem like potential salves for wounds that run deeper than any plunger can reach.

Yet, in the quietude of his little wintery backyard, Neteyam resists the pull of immediate gratification. The sinking sun serves as a silent witness to his internal struggle, and the decision to reach for connection rather than substances becomes a pivotal choice in his journey of healing.

It scares him, how he longs for alcohol — he blames it on the stress. 

The poetry club, a haven where words dance like whispers in the wind, becomes both a sanctuary and a sounding board for his inner turmoil. Each verse shared by newfound friends carries a resonance that transcends the confines of language, echoing the complexity of grief and the fragility of identity.

Neteyam's longing for the past, for the laughter with his brother, the camaraderie with friends, and the simple joy of long walks with family, intertwines with the uncertainty of who he is becoming. The layers of grief and self-discovery converge, creating a narrative that is uniquely his own—a tapestry woven with threads of loss, resilience, and the tentative hope for a future that holds both challenges and renewal.

In the quiet moments between the chapters of his story, Neteyam grapples with the profound truth that uncertainty, though daunting, is also a canvas for resilience and reinvention. The journey toward understanding himself in the wake of loss is a path strewn with complexities, but in each moment of vulnerability, he finds the strength to navigate the uncertain terrain, one step at a time.

With a heavy sigh, he leaves the backyard and heads inside.

In the hushed ambiance of his bathroom, Neteyam stands before the mirror, his reflection framed by the soft glow of dimmed lights. The air is thick with the promise of transformation as he prepares to weave his hair into intricate braids, a ritual that connects him to his roots and carries a legacy of cultural significance.

The strands of his hair, a testament to resilience and identity, cascade around his shoulders in a graceful dance. With deliberate movements, Neteyam gathers the tools of his artistry—combs, rubber bands, and a jar of hair pomade that carries the familiar fragrance of nostalgia.

As he begins the meticulous process, there's a rhythm to his hands, a dance of fingers that navigate the textured landscape of his hair. Each section is a canvas, and the braids are strokes that tell a story—a story of heritage, strength, and the beauty found in the intricacies of natural curls.

His pale brown eyes rake over the dark locks of his hair. Sometimes it seems black, other times, dark brown. Perhaps it fades with tjme — or maybe the sun kisses his locks and lightens their colour.

The bathroom becomes a cocoon of self-expression, a sacred space where Neteyam embraces the cultural heritage woven into the strands of his hair. He finds solace in the repetitive motion, each braid a testament to a history that stretches beyond personal narrative.

The water in the sink serves as a backdrop, a soft symphony accompanying the gentle murmur of his thoughts. The process is not just about aesthetics; it is a connection to a lineage of traditions and a celebration of black identity. Neteyam's reflection transforms with each braid, embodying a legacy that transcends time and resonates with the echoes of resilience.

In these moments of self-care, Neteyam finds not only an outward expression of his identity but also an inward affirmation of self-love. As the braids take shape, they become a symbol of empowerment, a statement that his mother's heritage both a source of pride and a canvas for personal expression.

Completing the ritual, Neteyam admires the finished braids, each one a labor of love and a nod to the rich tapestry of black culture. The bathroom, once a simple space, now bears witness to a transformation—a celebration of heritage, identity, and the beauty found in the intimate act of braiding. 

With the rhythmic hum of satisfaction from braiding lingering in the air, Neteyam shifts his focus to another form of self-care—his skincare routine. The soft glow of the bathroom lights accentuates the contours of his face as he gathers a collection of serums, moisturizers, and cleansers.

The mirror, now a canvas for a different kind of ritual, reflects Neteyam's image up close. He gazes intently at his own reflection, acknowledging the nuances and intricacies of his skin—the canvas upon which the narratives of his experiences are etched.

As he delicately applies a gentle cleanser, there's a quiet intimacy in the way his fingers traverse the landscape of his face. The warmth of the water and the fragrance of the skincare products become an immersive experience—a ritual that extends beyond the physical, touching the realms of self-love and acceptance.

With the ritualistic splashes of water, Neteyam rinses away the remnants of the day, cleansing not just his skin but also the weariness that clings to him. The mirror reflects a face softened by the care bestowed upon it, a canvas prepared for the next step in this act of self-affirmation.

Applying moisturizer becomes a tender gesture, a promise to nurture and protect. Each stroke is deliberate, an acknowledgment of the resilience embedded in his skin—a testament to the stories it carries and the stories it will continue to tell.

The inspection in the mirror becomes a moment of reflection. Neteyam scrutinizes his features, not with criticism but with an appreciation for the uniqueness that defines him. There's a quiet acceptance in his gaze—a recognition of the journey his skin has undertaken and an understanding that beauty lies not in perfection but in authenticity.

The mirror, now a trusted confidant, reveals the vulnerability and strength interwoven in his reflection. Neteyam smiles at himself, a genuine expression of self-love that radiates from within. The bathroom, once a space for routine, transforms into a sanctuary of affirmation—a place where rituals of self-care transcend the physical, reaching into the realms of self-compassion and celebration.

In this intimate dance of skincare and self-reflection, Neteyam finds solace. The bathroom, now infused with the fragrance of his chosen products, bears witness to a metamorphosis—a journey of self-love that extends beyond the surface and into the depths of his being.

Notes:

Found out a korean guy I tried to befriend a few months ago (not the guy I dated) decided to get together with a 15 year old at the ripe age of 27 💀
If that wasn't devastating enough, a friend of mine doesn't see anything wrong with this and acted like I (and another friend who also doesn’t agree with this agegap) are being mean because "nobody can express an opinion these days" or smth like that and if she shared her opinion on things more it would really change our friendships 🥹
Thing is honestly I just decided to ignore this bc I was 13 when a 30 year old took a liking to me and I really don't need to deal with this rn, people can go think whatever they want 😖

Anyway
What in rlly curious about is what yall wanna see happen in this story 👀

Chapter 95: Surprise Visit

Summary:

Disclaimer
Sorry for any typoes I wrote this on my phone again 😅 😬
My laptop is broken 🙃 😢

Notes:

Merry Christmas²🎅 🎄 ❤️

---

Neteyam, immersed in the intricate dance of academia, was engrossed in his notebook when the familiar voice of Odette reached him. Startled, he looked up to find her approaching, a coffee cup in hand. Her solitary figure exuded a quiet confidence.

"Hi, Tey. How you doing?" she inquired, her gaze holding a hint of enigma, a trait that seemed to accompany her like a subtle aura.

Neteyam's face lit up with a warm smile as he welcomed the unexpected encounter. "Hey, Odette! I'm doing alright, you know, surviving the academic whirlwind. How about you?"

Odette, taking a sip from her to-go coffee, gave a reflective nod. "Surviving as well. The semester has a way of keeping us on our toes. How was your poetry writing session? Anything inspiring lately?"

Amused by Odette's interest in his creative pursuits, Neteyam chuckled. "It's been a mix of everything. Some days the words flow effortlessly, and other days it's like coaxing them out of hiding. But that's the beauty of it, right?"

A thoughtful expression lingered in Odette's eyes. "Absolutely. The ebb and flow of creativity. It's what makes each piece unique. By the way, thanks for sharing your work with the club the other day. Your words always have a way of resonating with everyone."

Modesty graced Neteyam's smile. "I'm glad you think so. It's always a bit nerve-wracking putting your words out there, but the support of the club means a lot. How about you? Any new pieces you're working on?"

Odette's gaze turned contemplative. "I have a few fragments. Still piecing them together. You know how it is—sometimes the thoughts need time to coalesce into something meaningful."

Neteyam nodded in understanding. "Absolutely. Well, whenever you're ready to share, I'm sure it'll be brilliant. The club meetings wouldn't be the same without your unique perspective."

Odette's reserved demeanor softened into a subtle smile. "Thank you, Neteyam. Your words mean a lot. Anyway, I should get going. I have a meeting with one of my professors. Take care, and let me know if you come across any poetic revelations."

"I will," Neteyam replied, waving goodbye as Odette continued on her way. Observing her blend into the bustling campus crowd, he couldn't help but appreciate the intricate threads of connection woven into the tapestry of his university life—each encounter, each shared moment adding depth to the narrative of his journey.

 

---

 

Neteyam, feeling the absence of his adoptive sis Kiri, decides to link up with her over a grub sesh. They plan to hit up a nearby Burger King, a spot that holds memories from their joint past. When he walks in, Kiri is already posted up, grinning ear to ear as he approaches.

"Yo, Neteyam! Long time, no see," Kiri exclaims, getting up for a tight hug. They slide into a booth, soaking in the familiar scent of fast food.

"For real, it's been a minute. How's life treating you?" Neteyam asks, genuine interest in his tone.

Kiri leans back, sipping on her soda. "Life's a rollercoaster, you know? College is a wild ride, but I can't complain. And you? Surviving the academic chaos?"

Neteyam chuckles, "Barely hanging on. So, spill the tea. What's the latest gossip from your campus?"

Kiri leans in, mischief in her eyes. "Oh, you won't believe the Jenny and Mark drama. It's like a soap opera up in there."

Neteyam grins, eager for the deets as they delve into the juicy stories about their classmates. Laughter and tales flow, creating a chill vibe reminiscent of their shared past.

Chomping down on burgers and fries, Neteyam brings up a party going down at a university dorm. "Speaking of drama, there's this lit party next weekend. You down?"

Kiri raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin forming. "A dorm rager? Count me in. It's been ages since we crashed one of those. Let's spice up their basic little fanfictionless lives."

Neteyam laughs, vibing with the banter. "Bet. We'll make it a night to remember. Just like the good ol' days."

"You sound so old, Tey!" Kiri giggles, shaking her head. "Man. We're both talking so weird today. I met some new friends, their speech is rubbing off on me, I swear. It's so weird." 

Neteyam hums, shrugging. "I have some new friends, too. We're not that close yet and now I find myself always asking everyone the same basic stuff I'd ask them—"

"No—" Kiri laughs, snorting. "Okay, that's so cute."

They polish off their plates, reminiscing about their childhood adventures. The Burger King booth becomes a time capsule, capturing the essence of their bond. With plans set for the upcoming party, Neteyam and Kiri bounce out of the joint, ready to inject some of their unique energy into the university dorm scene.

 

---

 

"Uncle Tommy—" Neteyam gapes in surprise as he opens the door to his apartment. "What are you doing here?"

His father's identical twin brother grins at him, eyes a little tired, tinted with the ghost of losing his brother. "Your mother said you don't have anymore classes, so I decided to drop by."

"Oh, sure—" Neteyam blinks, stepping aside to let Tommy into the cozy little apartment. "It's just me, though." 

"Where's the rest of ya?" Tommy chuckles, toeing off his shoes. "Your roomies and your brother left without you?"

"No, bro is taking an exam—" 

"On a Friday afternoon!" Tommy flails his arms dramatically. "Poor Lo'ak."

"Yeah," Neteyam chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "Ao'nung and Tsireya are at the cinema, watching Barbie." 

"They're still playing that?" Tommy hums, sitting down at the dining table with Neteyam. 

Neteyam shrugs, grabbing a couple of soda cans from the fridge. "Apparently, Barbie has some timeless appeal."

Tommy chuckles, popping open his soda. "Well, Lo'ak's loss is my gain. Quality time with my favorite nephew."

Neteyam grins, joining Tommy at the table. "What brings you here, Uncle Tommy? Not that I mind the company."

Tommy's expression turns more serious. "Just wanted to check on you, Neteyam. Losing your dad hit us all hard, but you're the oldest. How are you holding up?"

Neteyam takes a moment before answering. "It's tough, Uncle. Some days are better than others, you know? But having friends and family around helps."

Tommy nods knowingly. "Your old man was a strong one. You've got that resilience in you, too. Now, tell me, how's that photography project of yours coming along?"

"You remembered?"

Tommy feigns offence. "Course, I do. You're my favourite little artist. Now, tell me."

As Neteyam starts updating Tommy on his latest endeavours, the two share stories and laughter, finding solace in each other's company. The apartment becomes a haven of warmth, memories, and the healing power of family ties.

"I'm sure everyone will appreciate you putting together the family album this year," Tommy murmurs absently, shifting and reaching into his pocket. "Jakey always did a good job with the book itself, but he always chose the worst photos of me." 

Neteyam's lips quirk up, chest panging painfully at the mention of his late-father.  "We didn't even have any family gatherings, so you don't have to worry—"

"Nonsense—" Tommy protests. "Come here, silly Sully, let's take a picture. You can't leave me out." 

Neteyam lets himself be tugged closer, putting on his best grin as Tommy snaps away, taking at least twenty picture of the two of them. 

"Your hair turned out good," he comments.

As the camera's shutter clicks persistently, capturing moments frozen in time, Neteyam can't help but feel a warmth in his chest. Tommy's insistence on creating these memories brings a sense of belonging that transcends the absence of traditional family gatherings.

"Thanks, Tommy. It's been a while since we've had a proper family photo," Neteyam replies, his gaze softening. The ache of missing Jake lingers, but in these moments, there's a quiet acknowledgment of shared history.

As the impromptu photo session continues, Tommy chuckles, "We'll fill that album with memories, just like the good old days. Jakey would've loved this."

Neteyam nods, grateful for Tommy's effort to bridge the gap left by the absence of family events. The camera becomes a storyteller, weaving a narrative of their own making, and in each snapshot, the bond between them grows stronger, a testament to the enduring spirit of family, even in the face of loss.

"You fancy stepping out for a smoke?" Tommy asks eventually, after lounging around on the sofa together. 

Neteyam hesitates for a moment, contemplating the offer. The weight of shared memories and the comfort of their quiet camaraderie make the prospect of stepping out with Tommy appealing.

"Sure, Tommy," he says, a small smile playing on his lips. They rise from the sofa, the echoes of laughter and shared stories lingering in the room. As they head outside, the cool evening air wraps around them, creating a canvas for unspoken thoughts.

The soft glow of streetlights casts shadows on the pavement as they find a quiet spot. Tommy lights a cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke that mingles with the crisp night air.

"It's funny, isn't it?" Tommy muses, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. "How life keeps moving forward, even when we wish it would slow down."

Neteyam nods, taking in the shared contemplation. The flickering ember at the tip of the cigarette becomes a miniature beacon in the quiet darkness.

"We carry the past with us, in these moments and in the stories we tell," Neteyam reflects, his gaze meeting Tommy's. There's a shared understanding that goes beyond words, a silent acknowledgment of the threads that bind them together.

They stand there, enveloped in the quiet of the night, a moment suspended in time—a snapshot for the metaphorical family album they're building, one shared experience at a time.

"You know," Neteyam begins after a while of just standing in smokey silence. "For a while I couldn't bring myself to see you." 

"Oh, you tell me," Tommy huffs. "I covered my mirrors with sheets and towels so I don't have to look at myself. Sucks being an identical twin when one of you is dead."

The weight of unspoken grief hangs in the air as Neteyam listens to Tommy's raw admission. There's a shared vulnerability in the quiet of the night, and the flickering streetlights cast shadows that seem to dance in tandem with their shared pain.

"I get that," Neteyam replies, his voice a gentle echo. "Seeing you, it was like looking at a reflection that had lost its symmetry. The absence echoed louder than anything else."

Tommy's eyes meet Neteyam's, and for a moment, the silence between them speaks volumes. They share a bond forged not only in blood but in the intricate tapestry of shared memories and the void left by a missing piece.

"It's strange, isn't it?" Tommy says, his gaze drifting toward the distant stars. "How a reflection can change so drastically, yet the echoes of the past linger."

Neteyam nods, understanding the complexity of grief and the myriad ways it manifests. The smoke curls upward, carrying with it unspoken words and shared sorrows, creating a space where understanding doesn't require elaborate explanations. They stand there, two souls connected by loss, finding solace in the silent communion of shared pain.

"This year went by so fast," Neteyam admits. "I hardly remember what happened. I'm only just starting to wake up, I think." 

"You were dissociating, probably." Tommy shifts,  flicking ash to the ground. "It was like that for me, too. Can't imagine doing school next to it. I would have just quit." 

"Dad said you're like me," Neteyam murmurs quietly, holding back a pestering sneeze. He sniffs. "You probably wouldn't have quit." 

"Maybe. But I also never double majored." 

"Fair enough."

The conversation carries a weight of shared experiences, and the passage of time becomes a marker for the endurance of their individual journeys.

"Yeah," Neteyam admits with a contemplative sigh, "it felt like I was on autopilot, going through the motions. Just trying to keep everything together."

Tommy nods knowingly, acknowledging the struggle of navigating life while grappling with personal challenges. The shared understanding forms an unspoken bridge between them, transcending the complexities of words.

"I guess Dad saw the similarities in us," Neteyam adds, a faint smile touching his lips. "We both have that resilience, that stubbornness to keep going."

Tommy smirks, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Guess stubbornness runs in the family. But hey, at least we're still standing."

Neteyam chuckles, the sound a subtle affirmation of their shared strength. As they continue to talk, the night unfolds, weaving threads of connection and understanding, slowly mending the tapestry of their lives—one conversation at a time.

"Here," Tommy says suddenly, reaching into his coat pocket. "You can have this. Refillable." 

He hands Neteyam a lighter, vibrant blue, covered in traditional markings. 

"Where'd you get this?" Neteyam blinks in surprise, taking it carefully. "I don't really..."

"Smoke?" Tommy laughs. "You're a big kid now. I'd rather you smoke harmless little cigarettes than that herbal stuff you have at home."

"In the village?" Neteyam asks. He travesty the patterns of the lighter with his thumb. "That's harmless, too. It's just the same herbs we heal with—" 

Tommy snorts. "You're so naive, Neteyam."

Neteyam examines the vibrant blue lighter in his hand, its traditional markings contrasting with the modernity of their surroundings. The unexpected gift carries a touch of significance, a bridge between worlds.

"I appreciate it, Tommy," Neteyam says, a hint of gratitude in his voice. "But our healing herbs are genuinely harmless. They've been used for generations in the village."

Tommy raises an eyebrow, his expression a mixture of amusement and skepticism. "Naive, Neteyam. Trust me, the world out here is a bit different. But hey, if it brings you comfort, use the lighter for your 'harmless' herbs."

Neteyam smirks, acknowledging the cultural gap between them. The lighter becomes a symbolic artifact, a reminder of the diverse perspectives they each bring to the shared spaces of their lives. As they continue to converse, the lighter remains a small, tangible link between the traditional and the contemporary, a testament to the complexity of their intertwined stories.

"When is your brother getting back?" Tommy asks eventually as they head back inside. 

"He probably went out with some friends after the exam," Neteyam murmurs, lighted still held securely in his hand. "So, he's gonna come home wasted." 

"Ah, just like our good old Jakey-boy," Tommy snorts, shaking his head in amusement. "You know, you're not actually as much of a good boy as they think, are you?"

Neteyam flushes, eyes widening. "Whay do you—" 

"Weren't you the one sneaking drinks with you because nobody suspected?" Tommy chuckles, cracking his fingers. He settles down on the sofa and grabs a pillow to fiddle with.

"How'd you know?" Neteyam asks wearily, feeling caught.

"Well, I did the same." Tommy inspects his socks, pretending to be very interested. 

"Oh." 

"Yeah, our old man always checked my brother's bag, but never mine. They thought I only went with him to make sure he never did anything too crazy." 

"Were you wilder?" Neteyam asks.

"Not really, but I was no saint either."

The revelation of shared teenage exploits elicits a knowing camaraderie between Neteyam and Tommy, as they navigate the complexities of their pasts.

"I guess we both had our ways of flying under the radar," Tommy admits with a wry grin, his fingers still toying with the pillow. "Jakey was the troublemaker, and I was the one they thought was just keeping an eye on him."

Neteyam chuckles, the tension easing. "I never thought you'd be the sneaky one. You always seemed so... straightforward."

Tommy smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Appearances can be deceiving, Neteyam. Life's full of surprises."

As they settle into a comfortable rhythm of conversation, the room echoes with shared laughter and unspoken understanding. The blue lighter, now resting on the coffee table, serves as a tangible reminder of the connection they're building—one that transcends the roles society assigned to them and delves into the shared nuances of their individual journeys.

"So, do you wanna some of those 'harmless' herbs?" Neteyam asks quietly, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Oh, hell yeah," Tommy grins. "Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy." 

"They actually are harmless —" Neteyam protests. 

Neteyam retrieves the bag of herbs from his pocket, his fingers deftly rolling a makeshift joint. The room fills with the earthy scent as he lights it with the vibrant blue lighter, a small flame dancing briefly before settling into a steady burn.

Tommy takes a deep drag, exhaling slowly as a contented smile crosses his face. "You might be onto something, Neteyam. This is good stuff."

"I told you," Neteyam says, a hint of triumph in his tone. "It's a mix of herbs we use for healing in the village. No harmful additives or anything like that."

Tommy chuckles, passing the joint back. "Well, consider me converted. This is way better than those cigarettes."

As they share the moment, the room becomes a sanctuary of shared experiences and newfound understanding. The laughter and the subtle haze in the air create an atmosphere where judgments fade, and a genuine connection blossoms—a connection that goes beyond the external expectations placed upon them and finds solace in the simplicity of enjoying "harmless" herbs together.

 

Notes:

What do we think about Neteyam's new friends?

Side note
There is a guy at my dorm who has the fattest crush on me and its so funny
Hes absolutely rubbish at hiding it😳🤣🤣
He constantly gives me food and brings me chocolates that he remembers I like 🥹🤣
And I'm there like, "Why you doing this?"
And he'd be like: "I like giving."

But we drank once and he admitted that i make him nervous bc im pretty🤣🤣🤣

Chapter 96: The City Lights

Summary:

I'm determined to reach 200k words by chapter 100🤣🤣

Notes:

Mass-posting in honour of the holidays 😇🎅

---

Lo'ak arrives home by himself, and he's only a little bit tipsy after hanging with his classmates. Tommy has already left, it's close to midnight.

Neteyam is lounging on the sofa, typing away on his phone, his new lighter resting on his stomach as he lies on his back.

Lo'ak's nose wrinkles. "Hey, big bro."

"Hi."

"It smells funky. Did you smoke?"

Neteyam looks up from his phone, a guilty expression crossing his face as he quickly hides the lighter beside him. "Uh, yeah. Tommy and I were just trying out some herbs. It's harmless, really."

Lo'ak raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "Herbs, huh? Mom would love to hear that one."

Neteyam laughs nervously, sitting up. "Don't tell her, okay? It's just a way to unwind."

Lo'ak shrugs, settling onto the adjacent chair. "You're the responsible one. I won't spill the beans. Tommy already left?"

"Yeah, a while ago," Neteyam replies. "He gave me this cool lighter, though." He shows it to Lo'ak, who examines it with interest.

"Nice. Tribal markings and all. Where'd he get it?"

Neteyam hesitates for a moment, then decides to share. "Tommy said he got it from some place in town. Thought it suited me."

Lo'ak smirks. "Tommy's got a soft side, who knew? Anyway, next time you guys decide to smoke your 'herbs,' count me in. I could use a break from those college parties."

Neteyam grins, relieved that Lo'ak seems open to the idea. As they share a lighthearted moment, the room becomes a haven for sibling camaraderie, where secrets are kept, and connections are strengthened over the simple act of sharing a night in.

The atmosphere in the room shifts as Neteyam and Lo'ak engage in a playful banter. Neteyam grins mischievously, eyeing the pillow beside him, and suddenly, without warning, he snatches it up and takes aim.

"Think fast, little brother!" Neteyam exclaims, launching the first strike. The pillow whooshes through the air, and Lo'ak, caught off guard, barely manages to deflect the incoming fluff.

"Is that all you've got?" Lo'ak laughs, retaliating with a swift swing of his own pillow. Feathers flutter in the air as the two brothers engage in a spontaneous, good-natured pillow fight.

The room echoes with laughter and the soft thuds of pillows connecting. Cushions become makeshift shields as they dodge and weave, their movements a dance of camaraderie. The vibrant blue lighter, forgotten for a moment, rests peacefully on the sofa as witness to the sibling revelry.

Neteyam, fueled by a burst of energy, lunges forward, attempting to tackle Lo'ak into the cushions. However, Lo'ak expertly sidesteps, causing Neteyam to stumble and fall face-first into the sofa.

"Nice try, big bro!" Lo'ak taunts, a triumphant grin on his face. But Neteyam is quick to recover, seizing the opportunity to retaliate. He grabs a nearby pillow, launches himself at Lo'ak, and the two brothers collapse onto the floor, pillows flying in every direction.

Laughter fills the room, a harmonious symphony of joy that transcends the mundane worries of everyday life. Feathers swirl around them like confetti, creating a whimsical scene of familial bonding.

"Alright, alright, truce!" Lo'ak gasps between laughter, attempting to catch his breath.

Neteyam grins, the vibrant blue lighter still clutched in his hand. "Truce it is. But admit it, this was way better than any college party."

Lo'ak chuckles, nodding in agreement. "Definitely. We should do this more often."

As the pillow fight subsides, the room returns to a state of quiet camaraderie. The brothers, sprawled on the floor surrounded by scattered feathers, share a moment of shared laughter and warmth. The vibrant blue lighter, now adorned with a few stray feathers, remains a silent witness to the unspoken bonds that continue to grow within the walls of their home.

After the energetic pillow fight, Neteyam and Lo'ak find themselves on the sofa, catching their breath and exchanging smiles. The playful chaos has left a lightness in the air, and as the feathers settle, a shared decision is made.

"I guess we worked up an appetite," Neteyam grins, pushing himself off the floor. "How about we make something for dinner? I've got a few ideas."

Lo'ak nods, joining his brother in the kitchen. The scent of herbs lingers, a reminder of their earlier endeavors, as they set out to prepare a simple yet comforting meal. The vibrant blue lighter, now perched on the countertop, serves as a makeshift kitchen companion.

As they chop vegetables and share the responsibilities of cooking, the conversation flows effortlessly. The brothers reminisce about their childhood, sharing anecdotes and laughter that create a tapestry of shared memories. The rhythmic sounds of knife against cutting board provide a soothing backdrop to their bonding.

"Remember the time Dad tried to teach us his secret spice blend?" Lo'ak chuckles, stirring a pot on the stove.

Neteyam grins, a nostalgic twinkle in his eye. "Yeah, we ended up with the spiciest curry ever. I couldn't taste anything for a week."

They laugh, the memory of that culinary mishap adding a touch of humor to the evening. The vibrant blue lighter, temporarily retired from its earlier adventures, watches over the kitchen scene with silent approval.

As the aroma of their cooking fills the kitchen, the brothers share a sense of accomplishment. The act of preparing a meal together becomes more than a task; it becomes a shared experience that strengthens their connection.

Dinner is served, and they sit at the table, savoring the flavors and relishing the comfort of a home-cooked meal. The room is aglow with the soft light of shared moments, and the vibrant blue lighter, now on the table, becomes a centerpiece—a symbol of the familial warmth that continues to grow, transcending the ordinary and weaving together the threads of their lives.

"So, what made you smoke?" Lo'ak asks after a while of comfortable silence.

Neteyam shrugs. "Dunno. Tommy came round and offered me a cigarette. He doesn't think our herbs are harmless—"

"Bro, come on!" A startled laugh escapes him. "Everyone knows those are like weed."

"They're not addictive!" Neteyam protests, cheeks heating. "And— and they don't have any bad side-effects!"

Lo'ak rolls his eyes. "Well, that much is true. Good thing grandma is like the village doctor—"

"Tsahik—"

"Okay, culture police." Lo'ak stretches his arms up, groaning. "Tsahik. I pity the people who only have harmful stuff."

Neteyam grins, pleased that Lo'ak sees the value in their traditional herbs. "Exactly! Tsahik Grandma knows best. It's all about balance and harmony. Our herbs have been part of our culture for generations, used for healing and spiritual practices."

Lo'ak chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "I guess it's better than those chemical-filled cigarettes. Still, you could have warned me before I joined the 'harmless herbs' club with you and Tommy."

"Sorry, didn't think you'd be interested," Neteyam replies, sheepish but relieved that Lo'ak is taking it in stride. "Next time, I'll give you a heads up and you can come home early. "

They continue their conversation, the night settling into a comfortable rhythm. The vibrant blue lighter, now a familiar presence on the table, serves as a reminder of the bonds they're strengthening and the shared experiences that are shaping their lives.

As the evening unfolds, the room is filled not only with the aroma of their home-cooked meal but also with the echoes of laughter, teasing, and the unspoken understanding that binds them together. The vibrant blue lighter becomes a beacon of shared moments—a small, yet significant, artifact in the tapestry of their family's story.

"Where are Ao'nung and Tsireya?" Lo'ak asks eventually once they've moved to the sofa. "It's past one in the morning."

"They went to the cinema," Neteyam murmurs, half asleep. "Nung texted that they'd be late cause they went to a restaurant."

"What restaurant is open this late?" Lo'ak rolls his eyes.

Neteyam snorts. "Hey, if we can have sibling time  by ourselves, so can they."

"But I miss her."

"You're pouting—"

"No, I'm not!"

"You're pouting, baby bro." Neteyam grins mischievously, eyeing his brother. "You're grumpy because your little girlfriend is out with her brother."

Lo'ak scoffs, trying to maintain a facade of nonchalance. "I'm not grumpy. Just wondering why they're out so late. They better not wake us up when they stumble in."

Neteyam chuckles, poking Lo'ak playfully. "Come on, Lo'ak. Admit it, you miss her."

Lo'ak shoots him a mock glare. "Okay, maybe a little. But don't tell her I said that. She'll never let me live it down."

Neteyam grins, enjoying the banter. "Your secret's safe with me, baby bro. But seriously, it's nice that they have their own adventures. We can have our sibling time, and they can have theirs."

Lo'ak sighs, sinking further into the sofa. "Yeah, you're right. Just hope they're safe."

"They're grown-ups, Lo'ak. They can take care of themselves." Neteyam yawns, feeling the weight of the day catching up with him. "Let's just enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts."

They sit in companionable silence, the vibrant blue lighter resting on the coffee table as a silent witness to the late-night conversations. The soft glow of a lamp casts a warm ambiance, creating a haven for the two brothers to unwind.

As the night progresses, the laughter and camaraderie continue, filling the room with the echoes of shared moments. The vibrant blue lighter, a small but meaningful token, remains part of the tableau, quietly contributing to the ongoing narrative of family, connection, and the intricate dance of sibling bonds.

 

---

 

A few days later, Neteyam returns home from an exhausting exam, his mind buzzing with the weight of academic challenges. He pushes open the door, greeted by the familiar warmth of the family home. The vibrant blue lighter, now a constant companion in his pocket, has become a symbol of connection and shared experiences.

Lo'ak is sprawled on the sofa, engrossed in a book. He looks up, offering a sympathetic smile as Neteyam enters.

"Rough exam?" Lo'ak asks, setting aside his book.

Neteyam nods, dropping onto the sofa with a sigh. "Yeah, it was tough. I need a break."

Lo'ak smirks, reaching for the vibrant blue lighter on the coffee table. "How about some 'harmless herbs' to take the edge off?"

Neteyam grins, appreciating the offer. "Sure, why not? Let's unwind a bit."

As the aromatic herbs fill the room, they share a quiet moment, the stresses of the day gradually dissipating. The vibrant blue lighter, now in use again, flickers to life, casting a soft glow in the dimly lit room.

"So, any plans for the evening?" Lo'ak asks, passing the lighter back to Neteyam.

Neteyam takes a thoughtful drag from the herbal mix. "Not really. Maybe just relax, catch up on some shows. How about you?"

Lo'ak shrugs. "Just enjoying some quiet time. Ao'nung and Tsireya are out again, so it's just us."

The brothers settle into a comfortable silence, the ambient light of the vibrant blue lighter adding a tranquil ambiance. The room becomes a sanctuary for shared moments, a haven where the complexities of the outside world fade away.

As the evening unfolds, Neteyam and Lo'ak find solace in each other's company, the vibrant blue lighter becoming a silent witness to the ongoing narrative of their lives.

"What are they doing now?" Neteyam asks as he settles down beside his brother. "Nung didn't tell me they're going out."

Lo'ak glances at Neteyam, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "They're probably having one of their secret rendezvous. You know how those two are."

Neteyam raises an eyebrow, a mixture of curiosity and amusement on his face. "Secret rendezvous? What are they up to?"

Lo'ak chuckles, leaning in closer. "Well, let's just say they've been planning some surprises for us. I overheard Ao'nung talking about it on the phone the other day."

Neteyam's eyes widen with intrigue. "Surprises? What kind of surprises?"

Lo'ak grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I have no idea, but knowing those two, it's bound to be interesting. They're like partners in crime when it comes to planning surprises."

Neteyam smirks, the thought of Ao'nung and Tsireya conspiring together bringing a sense of anticipation. "Should we be worried?"

Lo'ak shrugs. "Nah, I think it's just their way of keeping things exciting. We'll find out soon enough, I suppose."

As they share this moment of speculation, the vibrant blue lighter sits nearby, casting a gentle glow. The room is filled with a sense of camaraderie, and the brothers settle in, eager to unravel the mysteries of the surprises that await them—completely unaware of the secret plans being hatched by Ao'nung and Tsireya.

"Maybe it's a birthday thing?" Neteyam hums. "It's december after all."

"Cheers," Lo'ak cracks a lazy smile, lifting his empty hand, pretending to hold a glass. "I used to hate being born in the same month as you."

Neteyam chuckles, nudging his brother playfully. "Come on, Lo'ak. Sharing a birthday month is like having built-in celebrations. Double the fun!"

Lo'ak smirks, raising an eyebrow. "Easy for you to say. You're the older one. I always had to share the spotlight."

Neteyam grins, feigning innocence. "Well, you know what they say—age before beauty."

"Speak for yourself," Lo'ak retorts, a mock scowl on his face. "I'm the handsome one here."

They share a laugh, the banter lightening the atmosphere. The vibrant blue lighter sits nearby, silently witnessing the playful exchange.

"Seriously, though," Neteyam says, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "If they're planning something for our birthdays, that would be pretty sweet."

Lo'ak nods in agreement. "Yeah, it would. Let's not ruin the surprise by prying too much, though. I'm sure whatever they have in mind will be great."

As the brothers settle into a comfortable quietude, the anticipation of the impending surprises adds a layer of excitement to the air. The vibrant blue lighter, a symbol of shared moments and connections, remains a subtle presence in the room, casting a soft glow over the unfolding narratives of family, celebration, and the bonds that tie them together.

Neteyam cannot help but wonder if Ao'nung and Tsireya were genuinely planning something for their birthdays. It wouldn't surprise him much — Ao'nung has been much more interested in parties and hanging out with people than he was the past few months. It also is important to mention how much Ao'nung cares for Lo'ak, and making sure the younger Sully brother isn't left out.

Neteyam's curiosity about the potential birthday surprises lingers in his mind, and he finds himself reflecting on the changes in Ao'nung's behavior. The shift in Ao'nung's focus from a more reserved attitude to an increased interest in socializing and planning events doesn't escape Neteyam's notice.

As the days pass, Ao'nung's excitement becomes palpable, and he frequently disappears into hushed conversations with Tsireya. Neteyam can't help but smile, recognizing the genuine care and effort his sister puts into ensuring Lo'ak's birthday doesn't get overshadowed.Lo'ak, oblivious to the behind-the-scenes preparations, remains nonchalant, embracing the calm before the storm of surprises.

Neteyam, however, becomes increasingly intrigued, wondering what Ao'nung and Tsireya have up their sleeves.

One evening, as Neteyam and Lo'ak sit together, the vibrant blue lighter resting nearby, Neteyam decides to broach the subject. "You think Ao'nung and Tsireya are planning something big for our birthdays?"

Lo'ak shrugs, sipping from a mug of tea.  "Who knows. Knowing Tsireya, she will just invite all of our families and we'll have a get-together or something."

"That would be pretty big—" Neteyam points out. "There are too many cousins and all."

Lo'ak chuckles. "I always forget how many cousins  Ao'nung and Tsireya have."

"Don't worry about it, Ao'nung also forgers that all the time. He says they're hard to keep track of."

Lo'ak cackles, shaking his head. "Damn."

As the conversation unfolds, Neteyam and Lo'ak find themselves immersed in light banter, the atmosphere easygoing and filled with the warmth of shared laughter. The vibrant blue lighter, sitting nearby, seems to absorb the camaraderie that permeates the room.

Lo'ak sets his mug down, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, if Ao'nung and Tsireya are planning something big, we should prepare ourselves for a chaotic family gathering. You know how these events go."

Neteyam grins, imagining the lively chaos that family gatherings often bring. "True. But it's always a good time. Besides, chaos is our family's middle name."

Lo'ak nods in agreement. "Sully Chaos, the true family legacy."

They share a laugh, the shared history of family events coloring the room with nostalgia. The vibrant blue lighter, now infused with the spirit of familial banter, silently bears witness to the moments that continue to shape their lives.

 

---

 

Neteyam, feeling the brisk evening air, decides to run a quick errand to the grocery store. He slips on his jacket, pockets the vibrant blue lighter as a comforting companion, and steps into the night. The streets are alive with a subtle hum, and the distant city lights twinkle like scattered stars.

As he enters the store, the familiar scent of fresh produce and bakery goods envelops him. Neteyam navigates the aisles with purpose, his list in hand. The soft hum of a familiar melody plays through the store's speakers, creating a rhythmic backdrop to his shopping expedition.

He grabs items with efficiency, a smile playing on his lips as he recalls the impending family gathering. Neteyam takes a detour to the spice aisle, remembering Tsireya's penchant for culinary experiments. The vibrant blue lighter, nestled securely in his pocket, adds a touch of familiarity to the mundane task.

With bags in hand, Neteyam exits the store, the brisk air rejuvenating. As he walks back, he contemplates the surprises Ao'nung and Tsireya might have in store for their joint celebration, looking forward to the chaos and joy that family gatherings bring.

The dim lights of the city comfort him as he walks through a familiar park near the university buildings. He thinks about his life, renting a flat together with his brother, Ao'nung, and Tsireya. He misses Kiri, Spider, and Rotxo. Neteyam always thought they'd rent together after high-school.

Funny, how life changes when one meets new people.

As Neteyam strolls through the park, the dim city lights casting a gentle glow, his thoughts drift to the twists and turns life has taken. Renting a flat with his brother, Ao'nung, and Tsireya has become a shared adventure, filled with both challenges and cherished moments. The absence of their high-school friends, Kiri, Spider, and Rotxo, is a bittersweet reminder of the passage of time.

Reflecting on these changes, Neteyam finds solace in the quiet beauty of the park. The rustling leaves and distant city sounds form a melodic backdrop to his contemplation. He wonders how life might have been if they had all rented together after high school, as initially planned.

Lost in thought, Neteyam is surprised to hear a familiar voice call out, "Hey, Neteyam!"

Turning, he sees Jason, a friend he met at the poetry club. A warm smile crosses Neteyam's face as he greets Jason. The vibrant blue lighter in his pocket seems to share in the joy of unexpected encounters.

"Jason, fancy meeting you here. What brings you to the park?" Neteyam asks, their chance encounter weaving another thread into the evolving tapestry of his life.

Jason grins, all teeth. He has a plastic bag full of newly bought groceries with him and a skateboard. "Shopping."

"Isn't it too icy to use a skateboard?" Neteyam asks gently, tilting his head.

Jason chuckles, adjusting the bag of groceries in his hand. "Yeah, probably not the best idea. I just like having it around, you know? It's like a security blanket for city adventures."

Neteyam smiles, nodding in understanding. "I get that. It's cool that you find your own way to navigate the cityscape."

They start walking together through the park, the city lights creating a soft glow around them. The vibrant blue lighter in Neteyam's pocket feels like a shared secret, a symbol of the unexpected connections life can bring.

As they chat about poetry, shared interests, and the quirks of city living, Neteyam feels a sense of camaraderie with Jason. The city becomes a backdrop for their conversation, and the plastic bag of groceries swings gently between them—a simple yet meaningful detail in the story of their burgeoning friendship.

"You know," Jason begins. "You talk really sophisticated. I kind of assumed you'd be a bit of a brat or something."

"Me?" Neteyam snorts, pointing to himself. "A brat? Why would you think that?"

"Well, look at all these high-end clothes on your back," Jason teases. "If I'm honest, I thought you were just a rich kid trying to be edgy by doing poetry club stuff."

 

Neteyam laughs, a genuine sound that carries through the crisp night air. "Trust me, these clothes are just a facade. I got them on sale. And poetry club stuff? It's just my way of escaping the chaos of regular life."

Jason grins, a newfound understanding in his eyes. "Fair enough. I guess we all have our ways of navigating this crazy world. By the way, what brings you to the grocery store at this hour?"

Neteyam shrugs, glancing at the plastic bag in Jason's hand. "Needed some essentials for dinner. Cooking with my brother tonight."

"Nice, a family dinner," Jason remarks. "I can't remember the last time I had one of those."

As they continue their stroll through the park, the city lights casting a serene glow, Neteyam and Jason share snippets of their lives. The vibrant blue lighter remains tucked in Neteyam's pocket, a silent witness to the connections being forged in the quiet corners of the city.

"No?" Neteyam asks without really expecting an answer.

Jason adjusts his grip on his skateboard. "Sorry if that sounded rude. I tend assume things really quickly."

"Ah, well—" Neteyam huffs out a laugh. "You're not that wrong. I'm kind of a military brat. Both my parents are in the army. Or, well. Were."

"They retired?"

"My dad got killed." Neteyam swallows thickly and glances at the other male, lips suddenly dry. "Mom took a break but she's working again. She doesn't do missions and stuff anymore, though."

Jason's expression softens, realizing the weight behind Neteyam's words. "I'm sorry to hear that, man. That must've been tough for you and your family."

Neteyam nods, a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability in his eyes. "Yeah, it was. But we're getting through it. Ao'nung, Tsireya, and Lo'ak, they've been a huge support. And, well, poetry club and friends like you help too."

Jason offers a sympathetic smile. "I'm here if you ever need to talk or just hang out. Seriously."

"Thanks, Jason," Neteyam replies, genuine appreciation coloring his words. "It means a lot."

As they navigate the city streets together, the vibrancy of their friendship illuminates the night, and the vibrant blue lighter continues to be a silent companion in Neteyam's pocket—a symbol of shared connections and the unexpected turns life takes.

"My dad has an identical twin," Neteyam murmurs softly. He hugs himself and Jason, noticing the shift in his mood, bumps their shoulders together gently. "It was hard looking at my uncle for a while, because he reminds me so much of my dad."

Jason listens attentively, understanding the complexity of Neteyam's emotions. "Must be a bittersweet feeling. Seeing familiar traits in someone else can bring comfort and pain at the same time."

Neteyam sighs, the weight of memories lingering in his words. "Yeah, it's like having a piece of my dad still around, but it's not really him. My uncle's a great guy, though. Always there for us."

"That's something," Jason replies, offering silent support. "Family, in whatever form, helps us get through the toughest times."

As they walk through the city's quiet streets, the glow of streetlights casting shadows on the pavement, Neteyam and Jason share a moment of unspoken understanding. The vibrant blue lighter remains nestled in Neteyam's pocket, a subtle reminder of the bonds that continue to grow amid life's twists and turns.

The duo eventually reaches the apartment building, and Jason smiles. "Well, here's where I turn in. See you around, Neteyam."

"Definitely," Neteyam replies, grateful for the unexpected friendship. "Take care, Jason."

With a friendly nod, Jason heads to his own apartment, leaving Neteyam with a mix of emotions and a newfound appreciation for the connections that unexpectedly brighten life's journey.

Neteyam heads home, heart heavy and yet light all at the same time.

Notes:

I'm literally always so worried about including birthdays in stories bc I will, without doubt, forget how old someone turned 😮💨😮💨

Chapter 97: A Surprise Gathering

---

A few days later, on a Saturday, Neteyam and Lo'ak arrive home to a suspiciously quiet apartment. 

Lo'ak shares a look with his older brother, but doesn't say anything. 

Neteyam pauses, biting the inside of his cheek. "Where's Ao'nung and Tsireya?"

Lo'ak clicks his tongue, toeing of his shoes. He fights his way out of his scarf and shrugs. His voice os quiet when he speaks, leaning close to his brother. "When's your birthday?"

"In two days—" Neteyam hums, eyebrow raised. 

"Old man—" 

Neteyam shoved Lo'ak lightly, making him stumble. "It's just one year!" 

The brothers share a chuckle, the mystery of the quiet apartment momentarily forgotten. Lo'ak straightens up, glancing around the living room as if expecting Ao'nung and Tsireya to jump out from behind the furniture.

Neteyam, however, senses something unusual. "What's going on? Why is it so quiet in here?"

Lo'ak raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Maybe they're planning a surprise for your birthday. You know how Ao'nung likes to go all out."

Neteyam narrows his eyes suspiciously. "You're in on this, aren't you?"

Lo'ak grins mischievously. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. You'll have to wait and see."

The apartment remains shrouded in secrecy, the silence broken only by the distant sounds of the city outside. Neteyam can't shake the feeling that something is afoot, and the vibrant blue lighter in his pocket seems to hum with anticipation.

As they settle into the quietude, the brothers exchange glances filled with unspoken curiosity. The days leading up to Neteyam's birthday promise surprises, and the air is charged with the excitement of the unknown.

The vibrant blue lighter, a silent companion throughout their journey, carries the promise of shared moments and the warmth of familial bonds. Whatever surprises await Neteyam, Lo'ak, Ao'nung, and Tsireya, the quiet apartment becomes a canvas for the upcoming celebrations—a space where laughter, love, and unexpected joys will unfold.

"You said you think it's a shared party for the both of us," Neteyam points out, walking around wearily. 

Lo'ak shrugs. "I might have said that."

Neteyam shoots his brother a playful glare. "You might have said that? You're definitely hiding something."

Lo'ak chuckles, leaning against the wall. "Alright, alright. Maybe I do know something, but it's all part of the surprise. You're going to love it, trust me."

As Neteyam continues to explore the apartment, his anticipation grows. The vibrant blue lighter, nestled in his pocket, seems to pulse with the rhythm of his excitement. The hushed whispers of secrets and the promise of celebration fill the air.

"You're not going to give me any hints, are you?" Neteyam asks, turning to face Lo'ak.

Lo'ak grins, shaking his head. "Not a chance. Just enjoy the mystery, big bro."

The brothers share a knowing smile, the unspoken bonds of family weaving through their shared moments. The vibrant blue lighter, a constant companion, adds its silent presence to the unfolding tale of surprises and celebrations.

As Neteyam eagerly awaits the approaching birthday festivities, the quiet apartment becomes a cocoon of anticipation—a space where secrets are kept, laughter is shared, and the promise of something wonderful lingers in the air.

Neteyam sighs in faked despair eventually. "At least tell me if Ao'nung and Tsireya are in the apartment at all. It's awfully quiet here." 

"Everyone is here," Lo'ak admits with a shrug.

"Everyone?" Neteyam echoes, confusion furrowing his brows. "How many people exactly?"

"If I knew, which I don't," Lo'ak sing-songs. "I still wouldn't tell you."

Neteyam chuckles, resigned but intrigued. "Alright, keep your secrets. I'm going to take a shower and pretend I'm not curious about the mysterious birthday plans."

Lo'ak smirks. "You do that. The surprise will be worth the wait, I promise."

As Neteyam disappears into the bathroom, the vibrant blue lighter remains a silent witness to the unfolding excitement. The apartment, shrouded in the quiet before the celebratory storm, holds the promise of shared joy and the bonds of family growing stronger with each passing moment. The mysterious anticipation hangs in the air, mingling with the soft glow of the vibrant blue lighter.

Neteyam wonders if anyone is hiding in the bathroom — or if they're actually all already here.  

Lo'ak refuses to tell him anything, so, once he makes sure he's alone in the bathroom, he gets ik the shower.

The warm water cascades down, soothing Neteyam's tired muscles. As he lathers up with soap, his mind races with thoughts about the upcoming celebration. The muffled sounds from the other room fuel his curiosity, but the prospect of the surprise keeps him in suspense.

After a refreshing shower, Neteyam steps out, steam billowing from the bathroom. He wraps himself in a towel and glances at his reflection in the foggy mirror. A grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he contemplates the mystery that awaits.

When he reenters the living room, Lo'ak is nowhere to be seen. Neteyam frowns, scanning the room for any signs of hidden guests or clues about the impending surprise.

Suddenly, the lights flicker, and the door swings open. Ao'nung and Tsireya burst into the apartment, their faces adorned with mischievous smiles.

"Happy early birthday, big bro!" Ao'nung exclaims, holding a wrapped gift.

Tsireya follows suit, presenting a colorful bag. "Surprise! We couldn't wait until your actual birthday."

Neteyam's eyes widen, a mixture of surprise and delight washing over him. "You guys! What's all this?"

Lo'ak appears from the shadows, wearing a sly grin. "Told you it would be worth the wait."

As Neteyam unwraps his gifts, laughter fills the apartment, and the vibrant blue lighter on the table becomes a beacon of shared joy. The mysterious anticipation has transformed into a celebration, and the room is alive with the warmth of familial connections. Neteyam, surrounded by the people he holds dear, embraces the moment, grateful for the surprises life brings and the bonds that continue to grow stronger.

"You were acting like there will be a huge family gathering!" Neteyam accuses, swatting at his little brother's head lightly.

Lo'ak only smirks.

"Hey, I had to keep it interesting," Lo'ak defends himself, dodging Neteyam's playful swat. "Besides, it worked, didn't it? You were genuinely surprised!"

Neteyam rolls his eyes but can't hide the grin forming on his face. "Fine, you got me there. This is a pleasant surprise, though. Thanks, Ao'nung, Tsireya."

Ao'nung claps Neteyam on the back. "Anything for our favorite old man."

Tsireya chuckles. "Don't worry; we've got something planned for you too, Lo'ak. Your birthday is just around the corner."

Lo'ak raises an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. "Oh, really? Should I be scared?"

Tsireya winks. "Maybe a little."

As they share laughter and exchange stories, the vibrant blue lighter sits as a witness to the bonds of family and the joy that comes from unexpected moments. The apartment, once quiet and mysterious, is now alive with the warmth of celebration and shared experiences. 

"But just so you know," Tsireya says after a moment, hair adorned with white beads and seashells, making her look like an island princess. "We did invite more people."

"We didn't want to overwhelm you by immediately having like ten others jump you for your birthday, " Ao'nung grins.

Neteyam raises an eyebrow, a mixture of curiosity and slight concern. "Ten others? Are you serious?"

Ao'nung chuckles. "Maybe not exactly ten, but we wanted to make it a small surprise gathering. You know, close friends and family."

Lo'ak smirks. "Close friends and family meaning anyone they could invite on short notice."

Tsireya playfully nudges Lo'ak. "You love it, don't deny it."

As the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of the additional guests, Neteyam glances at Lo'ak, who seems both amused and resigned. The vibrant blue lighter, still perched nearby, seems to glow a bit brighter, capturing the anticipation and shared laughter in the air.

With the door opening, more friends and family stream in, bringing with them an air of festivity. The apartment transforms into a lively gathering, filled with smiles, laughter, and the shared warmth of celebration. 
"I brought the booze!" Spider shouts out as he enters, holding up a rack of beer. He's followed by his precious girlfriend, Kiri and then finally the third member of their trio, Rotxo. The island boy is carrying a few carefully wrapped boxes and a backpack that clinks with every step he takes. It is obviously filled with additional alcohol. 

The trio's entrance adds an extra layer of cheer to the atmosphere. Spider's proclamation about the booze earns him a round of laughter from everyone. Kiri, her eyes sparkling, waves at Neteyam and Lo'ak, and Rotxo offers a laid-back nod.

Ao'nung grins, clapping Spider on the shoulder. "You're a lifesaver, my man. Let's get the party started!"

Lo'ak shoots a glance at Neteyam, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "Looks like our quiet night in just turned into a full-blown celebration."

Neteyam chuckles, shaking his head. "I should've seen this coming. Ao'nung and Tsireya never do anything halfway."

As the gathering unfolds, Neteyam finds himself surrounded by the laughter and warmth of friends and family. The vibrant blue lighter, now a witness to the lively festivities, casts a soft glow on the shared moments. The surprises, the laughter, and the camaraderie create a tapestry of memories that will linger in the hearts of the Sully brothers, connecting them even more deeply.

But Neteyam's favourite trio are not the only new guests. Tsireya has invited her friends, the three girls who Neteyam also knows. 
On top of that, Ao'nung has invited Naìtvì and Kaey to the birthday celebration. The two tall Metcayina men bustle around pleasantly, having brought a home made cake.

The addition of Naìtvì and Kaey to the celebration brings a touch of Metcayina charm to the birthday festivities. The two towering figures move gracefully through the apartment, their presence commanding yet warm.

Naìtvì, with his intricate facial markings and wise demeanor, presents the homemade cake with a smile. "Happy birthday, Neteyam. May your year be filled with prosperity and joy."

Kaey, the quieter of the two, nods in agreement. "Wishing you strength and clarity in the coming year. It's an honor to celebrate with you."

Neteyam, touched by the sincerity of the Metcayina men, expresses his gratitude. "Thank you both. I appreciate the heartfelt wishes and the amazing cake. It's truly a special birthday surprise."

As the celebration unfolds, the apartment resonates with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses. The diverse group of friends and family come together, creating a tapestry of shared moments and connections. The vibrant blue lighter, a silent witness to the joyous occasion, rests on the coffee table. 

The birthday celebration takes on a life of its own, with surprises, heartfelt wishes, and the harmonious blend of different cultures and personalities. Neteyam, surrounded by those he cares about, finds himself immersed in the beauty of shared moments that transcend boundaries and create lasting memories.

Spider puts on some music, mindful of the neighbours and a game of truth or dare begins between the young adults.

The apartment buzzes with the rhythmic beats of Spider's chosen music, setting the lively atmosphere for the game of truth or dare. Laughter and banter fill the room as the friends take turns challenging each other to unveil secrets or embark on daring tasks.

Tsireya, her eyes gleaming mischievously, spins a bottle to determine the next participant. It lands on Rotxo, who grins in anticipation. "Truth or dare?"

"Hit me with a dare," Rotxo declares, confident and ready for whatever challenge awaits.

Tsireya exchanges a sly glance with Ao'nung, and together they concoct a playful yet daring dare for Rotxo. "I dare you to perform a spontaneous dance routine right here, right now."

Rotxo chuckles, rising to his feet. With an easygoing flair, he starts an impromptu dance, surprising everyone with his unexpected moves. The room erupts in applause and cheers, appreciating the spontaneous entertainment.

As the game progresses, truths are shared, dares are met with enthusiasm, and the bonds between friends grow stronger. Neteyam finds himself caught up in the infectious energy of the celebration, grateful for the diverse group of friends and family who have come together to make his birthday memorable.

As Rotxo spins the bottle, it lands on Neteyam himself.

Rotxo grins, mischief evident in his eyes. "Well, well, birthday boy. Truth or dare?"

Neteyam smirks, feeling the weight of anticipation in the room. "I'm feeling adventurous. Dare."

The group exchanges knowing glances, and Ao'nung, with a playful smirk, suggests, "I dare you to do your best impression of Lo'ak when he's annoyed. Bonus points for accuracy!"

Laughter ripples through the room, and Neteyam, up for the challenge, adopts his best imitation of his younger brother. He replicates the signature eye roll, exaggerated sighs, and even mimics Lo'ak's deadpan expressions. The room erupts in amusement, and even Lo'ak himself can't help but chuckle at the spot-on performance.

"Well played, big bro," Lo'ak concedes, giving Neteyam an approving nod.

As the game continues, the apartment is filled with joy, camaraderie, and the shared laughter of friends and family.. Each dare and truth exchanged adds another layer to the shared experiences that define their bonds.

Neteyam spins the bottle, and beams when he notices who it landed on.

The bottle comes to a gentle stop, pointing directly at Tsireya. Neteyam grins, mischief dancing in his eyes as he declares, "Well, well, Tsireya. Truth or dare?"

Tsireya smirks, her eyes gleaming with a challenge. "I'm not one to shy away. Dare."

Ao'nung chuckles, exchanging a conspiratorial glance with Neteyam. "I dare you to perform your favorite dance move right here, right now."

Tsireya's smirk widens, and she gracefully rises to her feet. The room falls into a hush as Tsireya, with an effortless elegance, begins to showcase a dance move that captivates everyone. Her movements are a blend of tradition and modernity, a testament to her unique spirit.

The music plays softly in the background, enhancing the enchanting display. As Tsireya finishes her dance, the room erupts in applause. Neteyam, filled with pride for his soul-sister's talent, joins in the cheers, and Ao'nung gives Tsireya an approving nod.

The celebration continues, the apartment resonating with the spirit of shared joy and connection. The vibrant blue lighter, positioned on a nearby table, adds a touch of colour to the lively scene—a silent witness to the laughter, dances, and the bonds that grow stronger with each passing moment.

"On a scale of one to ten, how drunk are you?" Spider asks, as he steps up to Neteyam after the game ends.

Neteyam grins, swaying ever so slightly as he considers Spider's question. "I'd say a solid seven. Enough to have a good time but still remember it tomorrow."

Spider laughs, clapping Neteyam on the back. "That's the spirit! The night is still young, my friend. Let's make some more memories!"

"I have a new game we could play," Spider grins, eyes full of mischief. "Are you ready?"

"What game is it?" Neteyam asks.

Spider's grin widens, and he pulls out a deck of cards from his backpack. "It's called 'Truths and Dares with a Twist.' Basically, we add a bit of spice to the usual game. You pick a card, and depending on the suit and number, you get a truth, a dare, or something extra fun. Interested?"

Neteyam chuckles, intrigued by the proposition. "Alright, let's do it. How wild are these dares, though?"

Spider winks, tapping the deck. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough. Who's up first?"

The friends gather around as the deck is shuffled, anticipation building for the unpredictable twists the game might bring to the already lively celebration. 

"Your idea!" Lo'ak butts in. "You go first!" 

Spider snorts, but agrees easily.

Spider draws a card from the deck, revealing the Queen of Hearts. He grins mischievously, looking around the circle. "Alright, truth, dare, or a little something extra?"

Lo'ak leans forward, an eager expression on his face. "Let's go with something extra!"

Spider chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Alright, here's your challenge: you have to serenade the birthday person of your choice."

Lo'ak smirks, glancing at Neteyam. "Guess I'll serenade the old man over here."

As Spider starts to set the tone with a beatboxing rhythm, Lo'ak, fueled by the festive atmosphere and perhaps a touch of liquid courage, launches into a surprisingly decent rendition of a popular song. The room fills with laughter and applause, and Neteyam, despite a playful eye roll, secretly enjoys the unexpected serenade.

"Okay, lil bro," Neteyam laughs, voice breaking off with a hiccup. "Wonderful serenade. Please never do it again."

Lo'ak bows dramatically, a playful grin on his face. "You loved it, admit it. Old man Neteyam, serenaded on his birthday. Priceless."

The room erupts in laughter, and as the night progresses, the celebration continues. 

The party unfolds with games, laughter, and shared stories. The apartment, filled with the warmth of friendship and celebration, becomes a haven for cherished moments. Neteyam, surrounded by friends and family, can't help but feel grateful for the unexpected joy that this birthday celebration has brought.

As the night draws to a close, the vibrant blue lighter, a witness to the festivities, remains a quiet presence in the room. The echoes of laughter and the shared experiences linger, creating memories that will be treasured in the days to come.

The next morning, Neteyam wakes up to the aftermath of the celebration—scattered confetti, empty cups, and a lingering sense of contentment. The vibrant blue lighter, now resting on a shelf, reminds Neteyam of his evening spent with Tommy. He's carried the Little piece of metal and plastic with him everywhere since.

Neteyam stretches, his head still a bit fuzzy from the festivities. As he looks around the apartment, he can't help but smile at the memories of the birthday celebration. It was indeed a night filled with laughter, surprises, and the warmth of companionship.

The vibrant blue lighter, having witnessed the entire celebration, now holds a place of honor in Neteyam's mind. It becomes a memento—a small, yet significant, token that represents the shared moments and connections that make life's celebrations truly special.

Ao'nung is still sleeping beside Neteyam when the Omaticayan male gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom, a little dizzy from all the drinks he's had the night before.

He hops in the shower and lets the warm water massage his tense muscles.

As the soothing water cascades over him, Neteyam relishes the calming sensation, washing away the remnants of the celebratory night. The sound of the shower serves as a backdrop to his reflections on the unexpected turn of events that unfolded during the birthday party.

The vibrant blue lighter, now resting on the bathroom counter, glistens as rays of morning light filter through the window. Neteyam can't help but chuckle, recalling the moments of the truth or dare game and Lo'ak's playful serenade.

Exiting the shower, Neteyam feels rejuvenated. He dries himself off and wraps a towel around his waist, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. As he brushes his teeth, the vibrant blue lighter catches his eye, a subtle reminder of the shared laughter and bonds that were strengthened during the celebration.

Upon returning to the bedroom, Neteyam finds Ao'nung stirring awake. The Metcayina blinks, groaning a bit from the remnants of the night's festivities.

"Morning," Neteyam greets with a grin. "Sleep well?"

Ao'nung squints at him, then chuckles. "Considering the amount of noise we made, surprisingly yes. What time is it?"

Neteyam glances at the clock. "Early afternoon. We had quite the celebration last night."

Ao'nung grins, memories of the party flooding back. "That game of truth or dare got wild. I didn't know Lo'ak could sing like that."

Neteyam laughs. "Well, now you do. Birthdays have a way of bringing out unexpected talents."

Ao'nung nods, a satisfied expression on his face. "Truly."

Neteyam smiles, the blue lighter now sitting on the bedside table catching his eye. When did he even put that there, he wonders.

The two men share a moment of reflection, the bonds between them strengthened by the shared experiences of the celebration. 

Notes:

At this point the lighter is its on person tbh
I mention it more than some actual characters lmao

Chapter 98: Another Year Older

---

A couple of days later, Neteyam is busy hunting for some winter themed decorations, struggling to find any. He huffs, going as far as to see if he has any jewelry he can convert to make the apartment look more Christmas-y, but failing to do so.

Neteyam surveys his modest collection of jewelry, contemplating creative ways to repurpose them into festive decorations. His determination to infuse the apartment with a touch of holiday spirit fuels his quest. The vibrant blue lighter, tucked into the pocket of his jeans, seems to silently encourage his festive endeavors.

Frustrated by the lack of traditional decorations, Neteyam decides to take matters into his own hands. He pulls out a string of fairy lights from a drawer, determined to transform their living space into a winter wonderland. As he begins to strategically place the lights around the room, the apartment gradually takes on a warm and cozy glow.

The sound of the door opening catches Neteyam's attention. Lo'ak enters, glancing around with a raised eyebrow. "What's all this?"

Neteyam grins, gesturing proudly at his makeshift decorations. "I couldn't find any winter-themed stuff, so I improvised. What do you think?"

Lo'ak chuckles, appreciating his brother's festive spirit. "It's different, but I like it. Adds a unique touch."

Encouraged by Lo'ak's approval, Neteyam continues his holiday transformation. 

As Neteyam strings more lights and adds small touches of holiday charm, he reflects on the significance of creating these moments. The absence of traditional decorations becomes an opportunity to forge new traditions, strengthening the bonds of family and connection.

Once satisfied with his impromptu decorations, Neteyam steps back to admire the cozy transformation. Lo'ak joins him, the room now bathed in a warm glow. The vibrant blue lighter, a subtle beacon of shared moments, sits as a witness to their efforts.

"Feels like home," Lo'ak remarks, a genuine smile on his face.

Neteyam nods, grateful for the simple joys they can create together. 

"So, any plans for the new year?" Neteyam asks his younger brother, finding a little box of nailpolish and makeup — expired, he notes.

Lo'ak flops down on the sofa, phone in hand, documenting his brother's new decorations.

Lo'ak glances up from his phone, a playful grin on his face. "New year plans? Probably survive another round of Ao'nung's crazy party ideas. You know how he gets around celebrations."

Neteyam laughs, realizing that Ao'nung's enthusiasm for parties is a consistent theme in their lives. "True. He does know how to make things memorable."

As Neteyam continues to rummage through the expired beauty products, Lo'ak tilts his head, a curious expression on his face. "What are you doing with those? Planning a makeover for the new year?"

Neteyam chuckles, shaking his head. "Nah, just cleaning up a bit. Found these hidden treasures in the depths of our drawers. Probably time to let them go."

Lo'ak smirks. "Good call. I don't think those would survive another round of Tsireya's scrutiny."

Neteyam nods in agreement, discarding the expired items. "Speaking of which, do you think Ao'nung and Tsireya have any grand plans for New Year's Eve?"

Lo'ak shrugs. "Who knows? With those two, it could be anything from a quiet night in to a full-blown fireworks display. I guess we'll find out soon enough."

As Neteyam continues to tidy up their living space, the vibrant blue lighter sits nearby, an unintentional witness to their casual conversations and the preparations for the upcoming festivities. The anticipation of the new year hangs in the air, and the brothers, surrounded by the remnants of past memories and the glow of improvised decorations, look forward to the shared moments that await them in the days to come.

Lo'ak grins, setting his phone aside. "Maybe we should plan something for ourselves too. You know, a low-key celebration."

Neteyam considers the idea, a thoughtful expression on his face. "That sounds nice. We could cook something special, maybe watch a movie or play some games."

Lo'ak nods in agreement. "Exactly. No need for extravagant plans. Just a relaxed evening to welcome the new year."

As the brothers discuss their simple yet meaningful plans for New Year's Eve, the atmosphere in the apartment becomes one of anticipation and warmth. The upcoming celebration, whether grand or modest, symbolizes another chapter in their lives, a chance to embrace new beginnings and cherish the bonds that hold them together.

"I feel like Rotxo or Spider will throw a wild party, though." Lo'ak grabs a packet of sour gummies and tears it open, immediately stuffing himself without thinking to share with his brother. Neteyam doesn't mind.

"Oh, shoot." Neteyam hurries to pick up a pale green nailpolish he's just dropped on the carpet. Luckily, it's so old, that despite the cap being taken off, it doesn't spill, already dried up. 

Lo'ak watches him, amused. "I think they'll invite us like always. So let's forget the cozy night in, actually."

"Yeah, you're right."

The prospect of a lively party with Rotxo, Spider, and possibly more friends adds a spark to their New Year's Eve plans. Lo'ak, now fully engaged in devouring the sour gummies, grins mischievously.

"Cozy nights are overrated, anyway," Lo'ak comments between mouthfuls of candy. "Let's embrace the chaos and welcome the new year with a bang."

Neteyam chuckles, realizing that their quiet celebration might transform into a more spirited affair. "True, true. It's not every day we get to witness Spider's legendary dance moves."

Lo'ak laughs, nodding in agreement. "And Rotxo's storytelling skills. It's like being in the presence of a living legend."

As they continue discussing the potential festivities, the apartment takes on an air of excitement. The brothers, surrounded by scattered decorations and forgotten makeup, eagerly anticipate the unpredictable yet cherished moments the approaching new year will bring.

The idea of joining their friends for a lively celebration becomes more appealing, and Neteyam can't help but look forward to the laughter, music, and shared joy that will mark the transition into the next chapter of their lives.

And so, with the promise of an unforgettable New Year's Eve, Neteyam and Lo'ak prepare to bid farewell to the old and welcome the new, ready to embrace whatever surprises and adventures the future holds.

---

New Year's Eve comes around quickly — Lo'ak's not-so-surprise surprise birthday party was a success. Neteyam is surprised he even managed to rest enough to be able to get ready for new year's.

Sure enough, Spider and Rotxo did plan a huge party, inviting half of the university campus, it seems. 

Neteyam and Lo'ak step into Spider's apartment, greeted by the lively beats of music and the vibrant energy of their friends. Laughter echoes through the space, and the colorful decorations create a festive ambiance. The familiar sight of Spider, already in the midst of setting up the celebration, brings smiles to their faces. The vibrant blue lighter, resting in Neteyam's pocket, patiently awaits the unfolding of another night filled with shared moments and the warmth of friendship.

"Tey! Lo'ak!" Spider grins as he hurries over to them. "You made it! I only said that for formalities, I knew you would come. You guys want some vodka? The guys back there mixed it with mulled wine."

"They what?" Neteyam gapes, stomach already rolling in disgust at the thought of drinking that. 

"They mixed vodka with mulled wine!" Spider repeats, cheeks already red from dancing and drinking. "It's not that bad. They're shots. Try it." 

Neteyam grimaces, but Lo'ak immediately takes up the offer, following after Spider and leaving his brother alone. 

Neteyam rolls his eyes, setting down his backpack full of snacks and ciders (and perhaps some traditional Omaticayan herbs). He glances around to see if he knows anyone. Ao'nung and Tsireya are yet to arrive. They weren't at the apartment the past few days, having gone home to visit their parents. Neteyam wonders when they'll arrive. 

As Neteyam surveys the lively scene, the music pulsating through the air, he spots familiar faces among the crowd. Jason, the boy from the poetry club, is engaged in an animated conversation with Kiri and Rotxo. They seem to be discussing something with great enthusiasm, their laughter blending with the rhythm of the music.

Lo'ak, now sporting a cheeky grin after downing a shot of the infamous concoction, rejoins Neteyam. "You should try it, big bro! It's not as bad as he's making it sound."

Neteyam raises an eyebrow but decides to give it a shot, both literally and figuratively. He takes a glass from Spider, who eagerly pours a shot of the peculiar mixture.

"Cheers!" Lo'ak exclaims, clinking his glass against Neteyam's before they down the shots. The taste is a strange combination of warmth from the mulled wine and the sharp kick of vodka. Neteyam can't help but cringe, but the camaraderie of the moment eases the discomfort.

As the night unfolds, Neteyam finds himself immersed in the festivities, the vibrant blue lighter tucked safely in his pocket. The apartment transforms into a realm of shared laughter, spontaneous dance, and the joyous celebration of friendship.

The anticipation for Ao'nung and Tsireya's arrival lingers in the air, adding an extra layer of excitement to the night. Neteyam wonders what surprises they might have in store, eager to embrace the festivities that weave together the tapestry of their interconnected lives.

Neteyam wonders how Spider knows so many people, that hardly anyone is a friendly face at the party. He doesn't complain, large parties are always better for blending in. 

Kiri eventually notices him and bounds over, wearing an outfit Neteyam didn't think he'd ever see her in. She's wearing shiny, silver clothes, a mini skirt, and a crop top with no straps or sleeves. Her makeup is gold, and she's wearing a headband with huge numbers atop, letting everyone know what year it will be once midnight strikes. 

"You look like you just stepped out of that cartoon, Winx?" Neteyam laughs as they hug. He smells her perfume and relaxes at the familiarity of it. 

Kiri beams, showing off her heels, also silver. "You bet! And guess what, these shoes are actually so comfortable! No blisters!"

Neteyam chuckles, genuinely happy to see Kiri embracing the festive spirit. "Impressive! Fashion and comfort, the perfect combo. You're rocking the Winx look, though I have to say, you're way cooler than any cartoon character."

Kiri grins, twirling a strand of her hair. "Oh, stop it, you smooth talker. You're not too shabby yourself. I like the whole 'casual cool' vibe you've got going on."

He glances down at his attire, a simple sweater and jeans. "Yeah, well, I can't compete with the glitter and glam. But I'm glad you approve."

As the music picks up its tempo, Kiri grabs Neteyam's hand, pulling him toward the dance floor. The room is a kaleidoscope of lights, laughter, and swirling dance moves. Neteyam loses himself in the rhythm, letting the music guide his movements alongside Kiri. It's only thanks to the alcohol; he still doesn't like dancing in front of crowds. 

As the countdown to midnight approaches, Neteyam can't help but appreciate the vibrant energy of the party and the connection he shares with those around him.

"Where's your fiancé?" Kiri smirks, twirling once. 

"Ao'nung's probably driving back. He went home to visit his parents." Neteyam watches her, envious of how free she seems to be, dancing in a room of strangers like this.

Kiri nods. "Tsireya got the pink version of this outfit. I can't wait to see her and take some pics."

Neteyam smiles, picturing Tsireya in a matching outfit. "That sounds like it'll be a blast. You two are going to steal the show with your coordinated fashion."

As the music pulses through the room, Neteyam and Kiri continue to dance, the crowd around them joining in the collective celebration. The vibrant energy of the New Year's Eve party envelops them, creating an atmosphere of joy and anticipation.

Suddenly, the room becomes alive with the countdown as the clock ticks closer to midnight. The glittering numbers on Kiri's headband catch the light, and Neteyam can feel the excitement building. He glances around, wondering if Ao'nung has arrived yet.

"Five! Four! Three! Two! One!" The crowd erupts in cheers as the clock strikes midnight, signaling the beginning of a new year. Confetti rains down, and people exchange hugs and cheers all around.

Kiri pulls Neteyam into a hug, laughing. "Happy New Year, Tey!"

"Happy New Year, Kiri!" Neteyam replies, savoring the moment.

As the room continues to buzz with celebratory energy, Neteyam looks around, hoping to catch sight of Ao'nung and Tsireya in the midst of the festive crowd. The vibrant blue lighter in his pocket feels like a talisman, a silent witness to the joyous beginning of another year filled with possibilities.

Time seems to slow down — he dances, vodka churning in his veins. It's only a minute past midnight when someone lays a hand on his shoulder and turns him around (he doesn't see Kiri's giggle). 

Ao'nung comes into his vision, dressed causally in a black shirt and dress pants, the same funny headband on his head as Kiri's. Tsireya is behind him, Lo'ak hanging on her arm, starstruck by her beauty. 

Neteyam grins, arms automatically wrapping around Ao'nung's shoulders. 

The Metcayina grabs the back of his head gently and pulls him into a kiss.

The world seems to fade away as Ao'nung's lips meet Neteyam's, a sweet and familiar taste that transcends the chaos of the party around them. Time, for that moment, becomes a soft melody, and Neteyam loses himself in the embrace of his lover. The kiss holds a sense of shared joy, a celebration not just of the new year but of the bond they all share.

When they finally pull away, Neteyam looks into Ao'nung's eyes, feeling a warmth that goes beyond the vodka-induced haze. "You made it just in time for the New Year," Neteyam grins.

Ao'nung smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Tsireya and Lo'ak join in the celebration, forming a tight-knit group in the midst of the revelry. The vibrant blue lighter in Neteyam's pocket seems to resonate with the shared moments of family, friendship, and the promise of the year ahead.

The party continues, the music and laughter blending into the night. Neteyam, surrounded by the people he cares about, feels a profound sense of gratitude and optimism for the journey that lies ahead in the new year.

After a while, Neteyam finds himself sitting on a random chair, just watching the room, zoned out with a few extra drinks.

Rotxo bounds up to him out of nowhere, a fake moustache painted onto his face, curly hair a spray painted mess of colour. "Hey, Tey. Lo'ak tells me you have some herbs with you."

Neteyam blinks, the room spinning slightly as he processes Rotxo's words. He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You heard right, my friend. What are you in the mood for? Relaxation or an adventure?"

Rotxo laughs, gesturing towards the quieter corner of the room. "Let's go for an adventure. Something to match the vibes of the night."

With a nod, Neteyam gets up, and they find a more secluded spot. Rotxo's enthusiasm is contagious, and Neteyam can't help but appreciate the camaraderie that has woven its way through this diverse gathering.

As they share a moment of shared tradition, the vibrant blue lighter, now back in Neteyam's pocket, becomes a subtle reminder of the connections formed in unexpected places. The night unfolds with laughter, music, and the subtle glow of the lighter—a testament to the enduring bonds that grow within the tapestry of their lives.

"That's a sick lighter," Rotxo says as he borrows it, lighting up a herb-infused cigarette. "Where'd you get it?"

"It was a gift from my uncle. He got it somewhere on town I think."

Neteyam watches as Rotxo takes a drag from the herb-infused cigarette, the sweet aroma mingling with the lively atmosphere of the party. The vibrant blue lighter, now in Rotxo's possession, casts a faint glow as it ignites the end of the cigarette.

"Your uncle's got good taste," Rotxo remarks, exhaling a puff of smoke. "It adds a nice touch to the night."

Neteyam grins, feeling a sense of camaraderie with Rotxo. "Yeah, it's become sort of a symbol for these moments, you know? Something to light up the memories."

They share a moment of understanding, surrounded by the vibrant energy of the celebration. The party continues, and the blue lighter, though temporarily borrowed, remains a silent witness to the stories unfolding in the dance of lights and laughter.

Rotxo cracks a smile at Neteyam's poetic words and relaxes, feeling the herbs bring a pleasant tingle to his bones. "It's such a shame for the others that they only have harmful drugs, you know."

"They're not drugs—" Neteyam protests with a laugh. "Herbs, Rotxo. They're herbs. Kind of life medicine."

"Sure, buddy." Rotxo hands Neteyam his lighter. "Anyway, I'm off. I wanna make a fool of myself since everyone is too wasted to remember. Including me."

Neteyam chuckles, accepting the lighter back from Rotxo. "Enjoy making those unforgettable memories, my friend. Just blame it on the New Year's spirit tomorrow if anyone asks."

Rotxo grins, offering a casual salute before disappearing into the lively crowd. Neteyam watches him go, appreciating the carefree atmosphere of the celebration. The vibrant blue lighter, once again resting in Neteyam's pocket, remains a subtle reminder of the connections formed during this night.

Neteyam finds him alone once again, but he doesn't mind. He spots Ao'nung talking to Naìtvì and Kaey. Spider, Lo'ak, Kiri, and Tsireya and dancing together. A stranger is doing a kegstand nearby. 

Jason, amidst the vibrant energy of the party, finds himself drawn to Neteyam's presence. As they share casual conversations, Jason subtly peppers his words with compliments and playful teasing. Neteyam, engrossed in the festivities, grabs ahold of Jason's eupper arm for balance. 

"So, Neteyam," Jason grins, taking a sip from his drink. "I never realized how good you are at dancing. You've got some moves."

Neteyam laughs, swaying to the music. "Oh, I just go with the flow. Dancing is all about feeling the rhythm, you know?"

Jason nods, a glint of admiration in his eyes. "Definitely. You make it look effortless. I guess you're full of surprises."

Neteyam raises an eyebrow, chuckling. "Surprises? Well, life is full of them, isn't it?"

"Didn't take you for a dancer," Jason comments over the loid music, laying a hand over Neteyam's for a split second. 

Neteyam, feeling giddy, throws his head back and giggles, muted by the music. "You also thought I was some kind of brat, isn't that what you said?"

Jason smirks, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Well, I might have made a few assumptions. People can surprise you, you know?"

Neteyam grins, swaying to the music. "Assumptions can be deceiving. Life has a way of proving us wrong."

The city's lights dance beyond the windows, casting a warm glow on the scene, while the blue lighter rests quietly, a silent observer to the unfolding connections and unspoken moments.

"So," Jason hums as he wraps an arm around Neteyam's shoulder. "Who was the handsome fella stealing your midnight kiss. I couldn't see him too well." 

Neteyam flushes, pulling away despite the comforting warmth of Jason's touches. "That's— he's..."

Jason raises a brow. "Everything okay? I don't care that you're out here kissing guys, cider boy. It's totally fine." 

"Boys— it's only one—" Neteyam stammers, stumbling over his words. 

Jason pats his shoulder gently, eyes kind and calm. "I get it. Didn't mean to pry." 

"No, no, it's fine."

Neteyam takes a deep breath, appreciating Jason's understanding demeanor. "It's just... Ao'nung. He's my fiancé."

Jason's eyes widen in genuine surprise. "Oh, wow. I didn't expect that. Congrats, man."

"Thanks," Neteyam replies, a mixture of relief and amusement playing on his features. "Yeah, he's... special."

Jason grins, lifting his drink. "Here's to love, then, in all its surprising forms."

As they clink their glasses together, the party continues around them, each moment carrying the weight of shared stories and newfound connections, all illuminated by the city's vibrant lights.

A few hours later, in the early hours of the morning, Lo'ak stumbles into Neteyam's view — the eldest Sully boy was just chatting with Tsireya's friend, Apple, as she prefers to be called when his little brother quite literally fell into his arms.

"You okay, bro?" Neteyam asks, brows furrowing. His head is still buzzing with alcohol, now mixed with the tiredness of being awake before the sun rises.

"Oh, yeah, totally. Hey, Tutti Frutti." 

"Why do you have twigs in your hair?" Neteyam chides, plucking some pieces of nature from his brother's frizzed up braids.

Lo'ak grins, clearly unfazed by his slightly disheveled state. "Spider's idea. We thought we'd become one with nature tonight. I'm one with the trees now."

Neteyam chuckles, shaking his head. "You're a mess, little brother."

"Hey, messes are fun!" Lo'ak retorts, wrapping an arm around Neteyam's shoulders. "Speaking of fun, have you seen Ao'nung and Tsireya? I lost them somewhere in the jungle of people."

"No idea, but maybe we should search for them together," Neteyam suggests, glancing around the lively crowd.

"Nah," Lo'ak hums, barely heard over the music. 

"Spider sure throws great parties," Eyrina (Apple) comments, lips quirked from Lo'ak's antics. 

"He sure does," Neteyam agrees, nodding at Eyrina with a smile. "But have you seen Ao'nung and Tsireya? We seem to have misplaced them in the midst of the festivities."

Eyrina shrugs, glancing around. "Haven't seen them for a while. They might be dancing or something."

"True," Neteyam says, exchanging a look with Lo'ak. "We'll keep searching. Let us know if you spot them."

As they navigate through the energetic crowd, Neteyam wonders where the two Metcayina might be in the sea of dancing silhouettes and laughter.

"I miss living in the dorms," Lo'ak comments after a while. "Those were the days."

"You do?" Neteyam chuckles, deciding to give up on finding their partners. 

"Yeah, but it would only be fun if Ao'nung was there again and Rotxo, but I highly doubt we could uproot everyone and convince them to join again."

"True, true," Neteyam nods, appreciating the nostalgic sentiment. "Those were some wild times, but I think everyone's got their own paths now. Speaking of paths, where do you think Ao'nung and Tsireya wandered off to?"

Lo'ak shrugs. 

"We should find them and head home soon."

---

As the business of the New Year's spirit dies down, and a few days pass, Neteyam finds himself attending the first poetry club meeting of the year.

The familiar atmosphere of the poetry club welcomes Neteyam as he enters the room. The air is filled with anticipation and creative energy. The club members chat excitedly, discussing their holiday experiences and sharing plans for the upcoming year.

Jason waves from across the room, saving a seat next to him. Neteyam joins him, eager to catch up and share his own stories. 

"Where are Emily and Odette?" Neteyam asks gently, tilting his head as he sits  beside Jason. "Are they coming today?"

Jason leans in, his expression thoughtful. "Odette had a family emergency, and Emily is visiting her grandparents out of town. They'll be back for the next meeting, though."

Neteyam nods understandingly. "I hope everything's okay with Odette's family. It's not like her to miss a meeting."

Jason sighs, "Yeah, it's tough for her, but she said she'll update us when she can. Now, tell me, did you survive the wild New Year's party Spider threw?"

Neteyam chuckles, recalling the chaotic but enjoyable night. "Barely, but it was worth it. Ao'nung and Tsireya showed up, but you already knew that, and Lo'ak managed to accumulate twigs in his hair somehow."

Jason laughs, "Sounds like a typical college party. Your brother is a funny guy. You teo look very alike and yet not at the same time."

As the conversation continues, the poetry club meeting unfolds with a blend of creative expressions and personal anecdotes, creating a space where the lines between art and life blur in the most beautiful ways.

"Do you have siblings, too?" Neteyam asks. 

"Yeah," Jason replies, a soft smile on his face. "I have an older sister. She lives in another city now, pursuing her career. We're close, but it's not the same as having her around all the time."

Neteyam nods, understanding the sentiment. "I get that. Ao'nung and Tsireya are practically family to me. Lo'ak, well, he's family, obviously, even if he does end up with twigs in his hair from time to time."

Jason chuckles. "My sister is very calm. Always has been. She never went to a single party or every really drank." 

"Well. Can't say the same for my brother."

Eventually, they quiet down, listening to people reciting their poems — many inspired by the new year. 

As the meeting draws to a close, Neteyam feels a sense of fulfillment, having shared a piece of himself with the poetry club as well.

As they leave the meeting together, Jason turns to Neteyam with a thoughtful expression. "Hey, do you have plans for the weekend? I was thinking we could grab coffee or something."

Neteyam smiles, appreciating the invitation. "Sure, I don't see why not." 

"You got any socials we can keep in contact on?" Jason asks.

Neteyam nods, reaching for his phone. "Sure, let me share my contact info with you."

He quickly exchanges social media details with Jason, creating a digital thread that connects their lives beyond the poetry club meeting. As they part ways, Neteyam looks forward to the coffee outing, knowing that these little connections can sometimes blossom into meaningful friendships.

 

Chapter 99: Falling From Grace

Summary:

✨️the downfall✨️

---

Several days later, Neteyam finds himself immersed in a cozy corner of the university library, surrounded by the hushed whispers of knowledge seekers and the faint rustle of turning pages. With a stack of books on Omaticaya's cultural history in front of him, he delves into his studies, determined to deepen his understanding of his heritage.

As Neteyam engrosses himself in the rich tapestry of Omaticaya's traditions and customs, he occasionally glances at the vibrant cover of a book that catches his eye. The library becomes a sanctuary of quiet contemplation, allowing him to connect with the roots of his identity.

Amidst the scholarly pursuits, Neteyam's phone vibrates with a message from Ao'nung, who's probably procrastinating on his own studies.

Nu'ung: Hey, Tey! Tsireya and I are grabbing dinner at the campus cafe. Wanna join us?

Neteyam smiles, grateful for the brief respite from his books. He replies.

You: Sure, I could use a break. Be there in ten.

As he packs up his study materials, Neteyam reflects on the balance between academic exploration and the living, breathing traditions that shape his identity. The upcoming dinner with Ao'nung and Tsireya promises not just a meal but a shared moment of connection, adding another layer to the evolving story of their intertwined lives.

The aroma of coffee and the lively chatter of students fill the air as Neteyam joins Ao'nung and Tsireya at the campus cafe. The trio settles into a cozy corner, surrounded by the comforting hum of conversation and the clinking of utensils against plates.

As they peruse the menu, deciding on their dinner choices, Tsireya leans in with a mischievous grin. "So, Neteyam, any progress on deciphering the mysteries of Omaticaya's cultural history?"

Neteyam chuckles, setting aside his scholarly pursuits for the moment. "Oh, you know, just unraveling the intricate threads of our past. But, tonight is for a different kind of feast."

Ao'nung nods in agreement, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Well said, Tey. Let's indulge in the culinary delights this place has to offer."

They place their orders, and as they wait for their meals, the conversation takes a delightful turn toward the world of cinema.

Ao'nung, with a playful gleam in his eyes, starts the discussion. "So, Tsireya and I were revisiting the Iron Man movies. What's your take on Tony Stark's journey from a genius billionaire playboy to a superhero?"

Neteyam grins, enjoying the shift to a lighter topic. "Ah, Iron Man – the one who kicked off the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It's fascinating to see Tony Stark evolve, facing challenges and embracing his role as a hero. Plus, the witty dialogue and high-tech suits add a perfect blend of humor and action."

Tsireya nods, sipping her coffee. "I appreciate how the movies delve into Tony's character flaws and his growth over time. It's not just about the suits and gadgets but about the man behind them."

As they delve deeper into their favorite moments and characters from the Iron Man series, the cafe becomes a haven of shared enthusiasm. The trio discusses the evolution of the Marvel Universe, the impact of Tony Stark's character on superhero storytelling, and the anticipation for upcoming releases.

Their dinner arrives, a delightful array of flavors that mirrors the diverse elements of their conversation. As they savor their meals, laughter and camaraderie weave through the exchange of thoughts and opinions.

The cafe experience becomes more than just a meal – it transforms into a shared moment of connection, where academic pursuits and cinematic delights merge in the tapestry of their friendship. The vibrant energy of the conversation resonates, creating memories that go beyond textbooks and movie screens.

As they finish their dinner, Neteyam realizes the significance of these moments – the blend of cultural exploration, casual conversations, and shared interests that shape the bonds of family and friendship. The journey of understanding Omaticaya's cultural history continues, not just in the pages of books but in the lived experiences and connections forged in the everyday chapters of their lives.

---

The weight of exam stress finally lifts as the last papers are turned in, signaling the end of another challenging semester. Neteyam, Ao'nung, and Tsireya emerge from the university buildings, breathing in the fresh air and savoring the freedom that comes with the conclusion of exams.

The campus, once bustling with students buried in textbooks, now exudes a sense of relief and anticipation. As they step into the bright sunshine, Neteyam suggests, "How about we celebrate the end of exams with something fun? We've got a few weeks before the new term starts."

Ao'nung grins, rubbing his eyes as if to banish the remnants of study-induced fatigue. "That sounds like a fantastic idea. I'm ready to trade textbooks for a bit of adventure."

Tsireya adds with a playful twinkle in her eye, "Adventure, or perhaps a well-deserved relaxation session? I could use a spa day."

Neteyam laughs, appreciating the varied preferences. "Why not both? How about a weekend getaway? We could explore a nearby town, have some fun, and then wind down with a spa day."

Ao'nung nods in agreement. "I'm in. A change of scenery sounds perfect."

Over the next few days, they plan their getaway, researching quaint towns, exploring potential activities, and, of course, finding the ideal spa for Tsireya. The excitement builds as they anticipate the break from academia and the chance to create new memories together. They invite Lo'ak, Kiri, Spider, and Rotxo, but none od them decide to actually join them.

Lo'ak, instead, decides to travel home to visit Neytiri and spend time with Tuktirey. He's not much of a spa guy anyway.

The weekend arrives, and the trio sets out on their mini-adventure. The town welcomes them with its charm – cobblestone streets, cozy cafes, and friendly locals. They explore local landmarks, indulge in delicious cuisine, and find themselves caught in the magic of a small-town festival.

As the day unfolds, they stumble upon unexpected delights, like a hidden bookstore with dusty shelves filled with treasures and a serene park that invites them to linger. The spontaneity of their exploration becomes a cherished part of the journey, creating memories that go beyond the planned itinerary.

In the evening, they check into a quaint bed and breakfast, where the cozy atmosphere and warm hospitality provide the perfect setting for relaxation. The next day, Tsireya enjoys her well-deserved spa day, indulging in pampering treatments while Neteyam and Ao'nung explore the town's surroundings.

As the weeks pass, the trio immerses themselves in this interlude between terms, savoring the freedom to explore, unwind, and simply enjoy each other's company. The break becomes a precious pause in the rhythm of academic life, a chance to recharge before the new term begins.

As they return to campus with a refreshed perspective, Neteyam, Ao'nung, and Tsireya carry the memories of their weekend getaway, a testament to the importance of balancing academic pursuits with the joy of shared experiences and the simple pleasures of life. The new term awaits, but for now, they savor the afterglow of their adventures and the bonds that continue to strengthen with each passing moment.

---

As the new term begins, Neteyam finds himself intrigued by the prospect of exploring different realms of knowledge. Elective classes become a gateway to delve into subjects beyond his major, and one particular course catches his eye—Poetry. The allure of expressing thoughts and emotions through verses proves irresistible.

As he enters the classroom on the first day of the elective, Neteyam spots a familiar face among the students. To his surprise and delight, Jason is seated, flipping through a poetry anthology. Their eyes meet, and a shared recognition lights up the room.

Neteyam takes a seat beside Jason, a grin forming on his face.
"Fancy meeting you here. I didn't know you were into poetry," he jokes.

Jason returns the smile, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I figured poetry could be a fun way to express myself. Plus, it seemed like a good elective to balance out the heavier courses. Gotta try new things, you know."

As the professor begins the class, guiding the students into the world of poetic expression, Neteyam and Jason discover common interests and a shared enthusiasm for the beauty of language. The weeks unfold with discussions on various poets, poetic forms, and the intricate dance of words.

In the midst of analyzing verses and crafting their own poems, Neteyam and Jason forge a deeper connection, exchanging insights and sharing their perspectives on the profound impact of poetry. The elective becomes not only an exploration of language but also a shared journey of self-discovery and creative expression.

As they collaborate on class assignments and engage in spirited conversations about the power of words, Neteyam realizes that this elective class has not only expanded his understanding of poetry but has also deepened his connection with Jason. The shared moments of vulnerability and creativity create a unique bond, transcending the confines of the classroom.

The poetry elective, initially chosen for its intriguing premise, transforms into a meaningful chapter in Neteyam's academic journey. The rhythm of verses becomes a backdrop to the evolving friendship with Jason, adding an unexpected layer of beauty to their shared experiences within the realm of poetry.

The class has only a few people — not many people have decided to learn about poetry. Neteyam, despite this, enjoys it.

The intimate setting of the poetry class allows Neteyam and Jason to engage deeply with the subject matter. As they explore the nuances of poetic expression, their camaraderie grows stronger. The class discussions become a platform for shared insights and creative exchanges, fostering a sense of community among the few students who chose this elective.

Neteyam, guided by the poetic muse, discovers new facets of self-expression. His verses echo the echoes of Omaticaya's cultural history, blending the traditional and the contemporary in a poetic dance. Jason, too, unveils layers of his thoughts and emotions through carefully crafted lines, contributing to the diverse tapestry of voices within the class.

In this small but passionate group, Neteyam and Jason find encouragement and inspiration from their fellow poets. The professor, recognizing the unique dynamics of the class, encourages collaborative projects that allow students to weave their individual voices into a collective masterpiece.

As the weeks unfold, the poetry elective not only deepens Neteyam's connection with Jason but also introduces him to a community of kindred spirits who share a love for the written word. The class becomes a sanctuary where creativity flourishes, and friendships are forged through the alchemy of language.

Neteyam, once a student navigating the vast corridors of academia, now finds himself part of a close-knit poetic enclave, where verses become bridges between hearts, and the beauty of expression transcends the boundaries of the classroom. The elective, chosen on a whim, becomes a meaningful chapter in Neteyam's academic journey, enriching not only his understanding of poetry but also the tapestry of relationships that defines this unique corner of his university experience.

One day, late January, after their shared class together, Neteyam finds himself wandering the halls with Jason, relaxing after a particularly tiring class.

As Neteyam and Jason stroll through the quiet halls, the echoes of their shared class linger in the air. The subdued lighting creates a serene atmosphere, and the hushed conversations of other students add a gentle hum to the surroundings.

Neteyam, feeling the weight of the tiring class lifting, turns to Jason with a grin. "That was quite the session. How about we grab a coffee and unwind for a bit?"

Jason nods in agreement, a smile playing on his lips. "Sounds like a plan. A coffee break is exactly what I need right now."

They make their way to the campus cafe, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee guiding them. As they settle into a cozy corner, Neteyam reflects on the camaraderie that has grown between them since the poetry class began.

"So, any new poetic musings on your mind?" Neteyam asks, sipping his coffee.

Jason chuckles, stirring his own cup. "Always. There's something about the rhythm of words that keeps my mind buzzing. How about you? Any cultural tales finding their way into your verses?"

Neteyam smiles, appreciating the genuine interest in each other's creative endeavors. "Indeed, the echoes of Omaticaya's cultural history continue to inspire. It's like weaving the past into the present with every line."

Their conversation flows effortlessly between poetry and shared experiences. The cafe becomes a backdrop to the ongoing narrative of their friendship, blending academic pursuits with the simple joys of a coffee-fueled conversation.

"Coffee makes me nervous," Neteyam admits after a while. "I usually only drink it before alcohol, so I don't fall asleep. "

Jason tilts his head, a soft smirk on his face. "That's cute."

Neteyam chuckles, a hint of sheepishness in his expression. "Well, I suppose it's a unique way to navigate the caffeine world. Keeps me alert without the jitters."

Jason grins, appreciating the quirky revelation. "Fair enough. We all have our rituals. Coffee before alcohol is an interesting combo, though. How did you stumble upon that strategy?"

Neteyam leans back, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "I guess it started during late-night study sessions. Coffee kept me awake, but I didn't want to sacrifice my sleep later on. So, the tradition stuck."

Jason nods, finding the logic in Neteyam's approach. "Resourceful. And here I thought I was the only one with peculiar habits. But hey, whatever works, right?"

Neteyam snorts, rolling his eyes. He stirs his coffee and bites his lower lip, staring at his hands. "I hope this semester isn't too brutal."

Jason offers a reassuring smile, understanding the weight of academic expectations. "I hear you. Hopefully, we can navigate through it together. And hey, if it gets overwhelming, we can always escape to our poetic haven or indulge in another caffeine-fueled adventure. Deal?"

"Deal."

Jason grins, teeth on full display. "Wanna hang at mine?"

"When?" Neteyam asks gently, rubbing st his forehead, still very tired.

"Right now?"

Neteyam considers for a moment, a weary yet welcoming smile on his face. "Sure, why not? A change of scenery might be just what I need."

Jason nods, patting at his thighs and getting up. "We can get a drink, too, just so you don't get too nervous."

Neteyam hesitates for a moment before shrugging. He stands, grabbing his coat. "Sure. What do you wanna drink?"

"A classic choice—how about some chilled ginger ale?" Jason suggests, leading the way towards the exit.

Neteyam nods in agreement, appreciating the lighter option. "Sounds perfect. Let's go."

They step out into the crisp January air, ready for a change of scenery and a relaxed evening.

"Never had that before. Is it good?" Neteyam asks as they walk.

"It's got a nice kick to it, a bit spicy but refreshing. You might like it," Jason replies, a playful glint in his eyes. "If not, we can always explore other options."

They continue chatting as they make their way to Jason's place, the prospect of a new beverage adding a hint of anticipation to their evening.

The door to Jason's apartment swings open, and they step into a cozy space that radiates warmth. Soft lighting and comfortable furnishings invite them in as Jason heads to the kitchen to fetch the chilled ginger ale.

Neteyam takes a moment to look around, appreciating the personal touches that make the apartment feel like home. He settles onto the couch, sinking into its comfort as Jason returns with two glasses filled with the effervescent liquid.

They clink glasses in a silent toast before taking their first sips. The subtle spiciness of the ginger ale dances on Neteyam's palate, a pleasant surprise. They enjoy the quiet companionship, the only sounds being the occasional fizz of bubbles and the distant hum of the city outside.

As the glasses empty, Jason grabs a remote, gesturing toward the entertainment center. Neteyam nods in agreement, and soon, the soft glow of the TV illuminates the room. They choose a movie, letting the visuals and soundtrack weave a quiet backdrop to their shared evening.

The movie unfolds without words exchanged, the plot and scenes absorbing their attention. Occasionally, a shared glance or a subtle nod communicates a shared sentiment about the storyline or a well-executed scene.

The atmosphere is comfortable, a refuge from the demands of academia. The gentle clinking of ice in their glasses punctuates the silence as they immerse themselves in the cinematic world, finding solace in the simplicity of the moment.

As the movie progresses, Neteyam and Jason find themselves wrapped in the unspoken agreement to enjoy the evening without the need for conversation. It's a shared understanding, a silent bond that transcends words, allowing them to unwind in each other's company.

In the quietude of the movie night, with the taste of ginger lingering on their tongues, Neteyam and Jason find solace in the simplicity of shared space, drinks, and the cinematic escape that brings a sense of calm to their weary souls.

The ambiance in Jason's apartment transforms as the evening unfolds. Empty glasses are replaced with a steadily growing collection, each sip of the evening's chosen drink deepening the warmth that envelops Neteyam and Jason. The movie plays on, a flickering tableau of colors and emotions on the screen.

As the alcohol takes its effect, their movements become a little more animated, laughter bubbling up at the edges of their shared silence. The atmosphere is charged with a relaxed energy, the movie acting as a backdrop to the gradual unraveling of tension and fatigue.

Inebriation weaves its gentle spell, and soon, the boundaries between the on-screen narrative and their own reality blur. The room resonates with shared laughter, occasional comments, and the clinking of glasses as they toast to the moments that don't need words.

Neteyam and Jason find themselves immersed in a different kind of cinematic experience—one where the screen mirrors the vibrant hues of their shared laughter and the unfolding camaraderie. The movie, now more of a visual soundtrack to their intoxicated camaraderie, becomes a canvas for the unspoken connection between them.

The lights of the city outside twinkle through the window, and the night unfolds in a tapestry of warmth and shared mirth. As the credits roll on the screen, the room is filled with the soft, contented breaths of two friends who have embraced the simplicity of the moment.

In the quiet aftermath of the movie, as the night deepens, Neteyam and Jason find themselves in a comfortable stupor. The weight of the day's demands has lifted, replaced by the gentle haze of friendship and the shared memories created in the intimate cocoon of Jason's apartment.

The room is bathed in the soft glow of the TV's screen, casting shifting shadows as Neteyam and Jason sit close on the couch. The air is thick with a shared warmth—the product of laughter, alcohol, and the unspoken connection that has evolved throughout the evening.

As the movie's credits roll, their eyes meet, the lines of their faces softened by the alcohol's embrace. Jason, with a gentle sway, leans in, bridging the remaining space between them. In the quiet of the room, he presses a soft, lingering kiss against Neteyam's lips.

Time seems to slow as the moment lingers, the weight of the unspoken hanging in the air. The kiss is a silent revelation, a subtle shift in the rhythm of their friendship. In the hazy atmosphere of the night, the boundaries between camaraderie and something more blur, leaving a delicate imprint on the shared tapestry of their intoxicated connection.

As they pull away, a quiet acknowledgment passes between them—an unspoken understanding of the complexity woven into the simplicity of that stolen moment. The room, filled with the remnants of laughter and the warmth of shared memories, holds the echoes of a shift in the dynamics of their relationship.

With the movie's glow fading, they sit in the aftermath of the kiss, the air heavy with the unspoken complications this drunken mess brings into their life.

Neteyam sits on the couch, the room spinning slightly around him. The aftertaste of alcohol lingers on his lips, and he rubs his temples, trying to clear the haze in his mind. The movie has ended, leaving a quiet emptiness in the room.

As he reflects on the evening, Neteyam's thoughts circle back to the unexpected kiss. Confusion furrows his brow, and he replays the moment in his mind. His fingers absentmindedly trace the outline of his own lips, as if seeking confirmation of the reality of the kiss.

The atmosphere is heavy with the weight of the unspoken, and Neteyam feels a mixture of emotions swirling within him—surprise, curiosity, and a touch of vulnerability. The room, once filled with laughter and camaraderie, now holds an uncharted tension.

With a sigh, Neteyam leans back into the couch, gazing at the ceiling as if seeking answers. The remnants of the evening's mirth are replaced by a sense of uncertainty. He contemplates the implications of that shared moment, the lines between friendship and something more becoming increasingly blurred in his intoxicated state.

In the dim light of the room, Neteyam grapples with the complexity of his emotions, trying to decipher the unspoken language that has woven itself into the narrative of the night. The confusion lingers, a silent echo in the space that was once filled with laughter and the simple joy of shared company.

And he wonders why Jason would do such a thing, knowing that he's engaged.

Neteyam's thoughts swirl in the haze of alcohol, his brows furrowed with confusion and concern. The realization of his own engagement adds a layer of complexity to the unexpected kiss. He rubs his temples, grappling with the question of why Jason would initiate such a moment, aware of Neteyam's relationship status.

The room feels like a puzzle, the pieces scattered and elusive. Neteyam contemplates the dynamics of their friendship and tries to reconcile the unspoken tension with the commitment he holds to someone else. He questions whether the kiss was a fleeting impulse or something deeper that he hasn't fully grasped.

As the weight of the evening settles on him, Neteyam's engagement ring catches the light, a silent reminder of the boundaries that should have been clear. Confusion mingles with a sense of vulnerability, leaving him to navigate the intricate web of emotions in the aftermath of that unexpected kiss.

Notes:

Ao'nung had his development
It's time for golden boy to crumble😈

Chapter 100: Path Ahead

Summary:

Chapter 100 wooo

We're also over 200k words now 🤭

---

Neteyam wakes with a throbbing headache, the sunlight streaming through the curtains intensifying the pain. He shifts in bed, trying to piece together the fragments of the previous night. The memories are hazy, and he wonders how he ended up at home.

As he gingerly sits up, the room spins slightly, and he winces. The events leading to his return are a blur, a puzzle with missing pieces. He surveys his surroundings, recognizing the familiar decor of his own living space, yet unable to recall the specifics of his journey home.

Rubbing his temples, Neteyam contemplates the consequences of the night before—the unexpected kiss, the confusion, and the lingering questions. The headache seems to mirror the internal turmoil as he navigates the aftermath of a night filled with alcohol-induced twists and turns.

With a sigh, he reaches for a glass of water on the bedside table, hoping to alleviate the pounding in his head. As he sips the cool liquid, Neteyam faces the challenge of unraveling the mystery of the previous night and confronting the emotions that accompany it.

The water does little to ease Neteyam's headache, but it provides a momentary distraction. As he sits on the edge of the bed, he retrieves his phone, hoping it might hold some clues about the events he can't fully recall.

Scrolling through his messages and call log, there's no communication from Jason. The absence of any recent messages only adds to the sense of uncertainty. Neteyam wonders whether Jason remembers the night as vividly or if the details are as elusive for him.

Gazing around his apartment, Neteyam notices his engagement ring glinting on the bedside table. The reminder of his commitment introduces a layer of complexity to the unfolding situation. He contemplates the implications of the unexpected kiss, unsure of how it might impact not only his friendship with Jason but also his engagement.

Deciding to take it one step at a time, Neteyam slowly gets up, determined to face the day despite the lingering headache and unanswered questions. The events of the night before remain a foggy landscape in his mind, and he knows that untangling the threads of confusion will take time.

As he moves through the morning routine, the weight of uncertainty persists. Neteyam resolves to reach out to Jason, seeking clarity and understanding about the shared moment that has left a mark on both of them. The day unfolds with a sense of apprehension, and Neteyam prepares himself for the conversations that lie ahead, hoping to navigate the complexities with honesty and openness.

The guilt settles heavily on Neteyam's shoulders as he moves through the day, each task colored by the lingering tension from the night before. He can't shake the feeling that the unexpected kiss with Jason might have crossed a line, and the weight of uncertainty presses on him.

Throughout the day, Neteyam wrestles with the question of whether Jason remembers the shared moment. The details remain elusive, lost in the fog of alcohol, and Neteyam wonders if he's alone in carrying the weight of that unanticipated intimacy.

As hours pass, he contemplates reaching out to Jason, seeking clarity on the events that unfolded. However, a sense of hesitation holds him back. The fear of further complicating their friendship or making the situation more awkward keeps him from taking that step.

The day unfolds with an undercurrent of unease, and Neteyam grapples with the guilt that accompanies the unspoken tension between him and Jason. The absence of communication becomes a void filled with unanswered questions, and Neteyam wonders if the uncharted territory they find themselves in will linger, unresolved, or if time will unveil a path forward.

The solitude in Neteyam's home adds another layer of contemplation to his already tumultuous day. The absence of Ao'nung, Lo'ak, and Tsireya leaves the space echoing with silence, emphasizing the unspoken tension that lingers in the air.

Neteyam moves through the rooms, the quietude amplifying the weight of his thoughts. He glances at the engagement ring on his finger, a silent reminder of the commitments that now feel more complex than ever.

The phone lies dormant on the table, a potential bridge to resolve the uncertainty with Jason. Neteyam hesitates, torn between the desire for clarity and the fear of stirring the waters further. The solitude becomes a canvas for introspection, as he grapples with the uncharted territory of his friendship and the unanswered questions that linger like shadows.

In the stillness of his home, Neteyam contemplates the paths ahead. The solitude offers a moment of respite, a chance to gather his thoughts and decide whether he's ready to confront the complexities of the unexpected kiss or if he needs more time to unravel the emotions that have surfaced in its wake.

Neteyam, overwhelmed by fear and uncertainty, ultimately decides to keep the events of the night a secret. The prospect of admitting the unexpected kiss with Jason feels like an insurmountable hurdle, and the fear of potential consequences looms large in his mind.

As the day progresses, Neteyam finds himself caught in a web of anxiety, the weight of the unspoken tension settling heavily on his shoulders. The engagement ring on his finger becomes both a comfort and a silent witness to the hidden turmoil beneath the surface.

Avoiding the topic becomes a delicate dance, and Neteyam steers clear of conversations that might lead to the revelation of the secret. The solitude in his home becomes a refuge, shielding him from the potential consequences of confessing the unanticipated intimacy with Jason.

In the silent corridors of his thoughts, Neteyam grapples with the decision to keep the secret, a choice made out of fear and the desire to preserve the stability of his engagement. The uncharted territory of that night remains locked away, a hidden chapter that adds a layer of complexity to his friendship with Jason and casts a shadow over the unspoken truths that linger in the quiet corners of his mind.

Days trickle by, and the weight of the unspoken secret gradually settles into the rhythm of Neteyam's routine. The solitude in his home becomes a familiar companion, and he navigates through the days with a sense of guarded normalcy.

The interactions with Ao'nung, Lo'ak, and Tsireya take on a surface-level ease, concealing the complexities that churn beneath the surface. The engagement ring on Neteyam's finger serves as a silent witness to the choice he made, keeping the events of that night locked away.

In the broader context of life, the uncharted territory with Jason becomes a distant, yet palpable, undercurrent. The shared moments of laughter and camaraderie form a thin veil over the unspoken tension, allowing a semblance of normalcy to reign.

The passage of time does its work, smoothing the edges of the unanticipated intimacy. Neteyam's engagement takes center stage again, and the fear that gripped him begins to ease. He convinces himself that the secret is buried deep enough to not disrupt the facade of normality he's painstakingly built.

As days turn into weeks, the events of that one night become a fragment in the larger tapestry of Neteyam's life. Yet, the unspoken secret remains, a subtle undercurrent that shapes the dynamics of his friendship with Jason and leaves its imprint on the delicate balance of his engagement. The normalcy, however, is a fragile construct, and Neteyam can't help but wonder if the echoes of that night will reverberate in unexpected ways.

Amidst the façade of normalcy, Neteyam finds moments of respite and distraction in his daily life. He immerses himself in academic pursuits, seeking solace in the familiar corridors of knowledge. The laughter shared with Ao'nung, Lo'ak, and Tsireya becomes a balm, temporarily soothing the unease that lingers beneath the surface.

However, the unspoken tension with Jason remains like a dormant ember, occasionally flickering in the recesses of Neteyam's mind. As they interact, a careful dance of words ensues, avoiding the topic that threatens to disrupt the fragile equilibrium they've established.

Neteyam's engagement plans take precedence, occupying his thoughts and redirecting the focus away from the shadows of that night. The upcoming milestones in his personal life serve as beacons, guiding him through the days with a semblance of purpose.

Yet, in the quiet moments, when the stillness of his home amplifies the echoes of his thoughts, Neteyam can't escape the nagging sense of unfinished business. The unspoken secret becomes a silent companion, a constant reminder of the choice made in fear and the potential repercussions that linger in the background.

As the weeks unfold, Neteyam wonders if the passage of time will heal the fractures or if the unspoken truth will demand reckoning. The normalcy he's carefully crafted becomes a delicate balancing act, and he navigates each day with a sense of trepidation, unsure of when or if the echoes of that night will disrupt the fragile equilibrium he clings to.

The decision to distance himself from the events of that night takes root in Neteyam's mind, and he adopts a strategy of avoidance. In an attempt to escape the unspoken tension with Jason, he decides to skip their shared class for two weeks.

The days pass in a blur of academic pursuits and carefully orchestrated absences. Neteyam immerses himself in other courses, seeking refuge in the sanctuary of knowledge, as if the accumulation of facts could drown out the echoes of that unexpected kiss.

The shared class becomes a symbol of the uncharted territory that he wishes to leave behind. Neteyam convinces himself that by avoiding the proximity of Jason, he can maintain the fragile semblance of normalcy that he has crafted in the aftermath.

As the weeks unfold, the absence from the shared class becomes a shield against the potential discomfort and unspoken truths that might surface. The decision to distance himself becomes a calculated effort to compartmentalize the events of that night, to bury them beneath the weight of academic obligations.

Yet, even as Neteyam successfully avoids the shared class, the echoes of that unanticipated intimacy persist. The unspoken secret, though temporarily muted, remains a silent undercurrent, and Neteyam can't help but wonder if his strategy of avoidance is merely a temporary reprieve or a more permanent retreat from the complexities that have woven themselves into the fabric of his friendship with Jason.

Neteyam, seeking a reprieve from the intricate dance of avoidance, decides to attend the poetry club. As he steps into the familiar meeting space, he finds himself greeted by the friendly faces of Emily, Odette, and Kaey. Jason, however, is conspicuously absent.

The atmosphere is a blend of creativity and camaraderie, and Neteyam takes a seat, appreciating the escape the poetry club provides from the complexities of his recent past. The shared passion for verse becomes a sanctuary, a space where he can momentarily set aside the unspoken tension and find solace in the beauty of language.

As the meeting unfolds, Neteyam engages in lively discussions about poetry, sharing insights and appreciating the diverse perspectives of the club members. Emily, Odette, and Kaey contribute their thoughts on various poets and poetic forms, creating a vibrant tapestry of voices that momentarily eclipses the shadows of the recent unspoken secret.

The absence of Jason lingers in the background, a reminder of the uncharted territory Neteyam is attempting to navigate. However, the poetry club offers a welcome respite—a space where he can rediscover the joy of creative expression and momentarily escape the weight of the unspoken truth that haunts his other interactions.

In the company of fellow poets, Neteyam finds a momentary reprieve, the verses shared in the club weaving a temporary shield against the complexities that linger beyond the doors of that creative haven.

He just wishes he never agreed to those drinks — or, just stuck to his trusted ciders.

Surely, his father must be rolling in his grave, watching him do such things. 

As Neteyam reflects on the recent events, he can't help but rue the decision to indulge in those drinks. The choice to step into uncharted territory with alcohol, deviating from his trusted ciders, now feels like a decision laden with consequences.

The echoes of his father's teachings reverberate in his thoughts, and a pang of guilt courses through him. He imagines his father, a figure of wisdom and tradition, looking disapprovingly at the path Neteyam has inadvertently taken. The weight of cultural expectations and the legacy of Omaticaya's traditions press on him, intensifying the regret that swirls within.

In the quiet moments of self-reflection, Neteyam wishes he could undo the choices that led to the unexpected kiss and the subsequent attempts to bury the truth. The conflict between the modern world's temptations and the ancestral values he holds dear becomes a poignant struggle.

As he contemplates the uncharted territory he has entered, Neteyam grapples not only with the complexities of friendship and engagement but also with the internal conflict of reconciling tradition and personal choices. The specter of his father's disapproval looms large, adding an extra layer of introspection to the already tangled web of emotions he finds himself entangled in.

Chapter 101: Spiral

---

"I am out with lanterns," Neteyam whispers to himself above his empty notebook, pen in hand. "I am out with lanterns looking for myself."

In the quiet confines of his room, Neteyam sits with an empty notebook and a pen in hand. The words he whispers to himself carry a weight of introspection, a poetic yearning to navigate the labyrinth of his own thoughts and emotions.

"I am out with lanterns," he murmurs, the metaphorical lanterns representing the glimmers of understanding he seeks in the darkness of uncertainty. The soft glow of the imaginary lanterns becomes a beacon, guiding him through the shadows of uncharted territory and the complexities of his recent experiences.

"I am out with lanterns looking for myself," Neteyam continues, the poetic declaration echoing the quest for self-discovery amid the tangled threads of friendship, engagement, and the unspoken secrets that linger in the corners of his mind.

As the pen moves across the empty pages, Neteyam explores the landscape of his thoughts with the precision of a cartographer mapping unexplored terrain. The act of putting words on paper becomes a cathartic journey, a process of illumination through introspection.

In this whispered poetic moment, Neteyam embarks on the search for clarity, using the lanterns of his own creation to cast light on the intricacies of his feelings and the path ahead. The empty notebook becomes a canvas for self-discovery, and each whispered line is a step in the ongoing exploration of the tapestry of his own existence.

Neteyam's fear of anyone discovering the truth about the unexpected kiss is palpable, a constant undercurrent beneath the surface of his daily interactions. The weight of the unspoken secret looms over him, casting a shadow that lingers in the corners of his thoughts.

Every casual conversation and shared moment becomes a potential minefield, triggering a heightened sense of anxiety. The fear of slipping up, of letting the uncharted territory become visible, forces Neteyam into a state of constant vigilance. His guarded demeanor becomes a shield, protecting the delicate balance he's attempting to maintain.

The engagement ring on his finger feels like both an anchor and a reminder—a symbol of commitment now intertwined with the hidden complexities of that one night. Neteyam tiptoes through conversations, choosing his words carefully, and steering clear of any topic that might unveil the unspoken tension.

The thought of friends or family discovering the truth about the kiss sends shivers down his spine. The fear of judgment, of jeopardizing relationships, adds layers of stress to his daily life. Neteyam becomes adept at wearing a mask, concealing the turmoil within, all while wrestling with the terror of the uncharted territory slipping out into the open.

In the silent moments of introspection, Neteyam grapples with the consequences of anyone finding out. The fear of unraveling the carefully woven façade becomes a constant companion, making the burden of the unspoken secret even heavier.

"Lanterns," Neteyam repeats, the word becoming a whispered mantra that he clings to in the quiet moments of introspection. The repetition of this symbolic beacon symbolizes his ongoing quest for illumination within the shadows of his own thoughts and experiences.

With each utterance, the word "lanterns" becomes a reminder of the metaphorical light he seeks—the clarity, understanding, and guidance needed to navigate the uncharted territory of his recent actions. The soft cadence of the mantra echoes in the stillness of his room, a quiet plea for insight and resolution.

The metaphorical lanterns cast a gentle glow on the path of self-discovery, their flickering light revealing both the beauty and the complexities that lie within. As Neteyam murmurs the word, it serves as a grounding force, a way to anchor himself amidst the turmoil and uncertainties that swirl around the unspoken secret.

In the rhythmic repetition of "lanterns," Neteyam finds a semblance of peace, a momentary respite from the fear and anxiety that accompany the hidden complexities of his recent experiences. The whispered mantra becomes a poetic thread, weaving through the tapestry of his thoughts, offering solace and a glimmer of hope in the pursuit of self-understanding.

He feels broken; why does he do stupid things when he's drunk?
First with Ao'nung and now...

No, he shakes his head. Don't think about him. Forget his name — ah, but he attends poetry club as well. Unavoidable. 

Neteyam grapples with a sense of brokenness, a heaviness that settles within him as he confronts the aftermath of his actions. The pattern of making regrettable decisions while under the influence of alcohol becomes a source of self-reflection, stirring up a cocktail of remorse and self-blame.

The memory of the unexpected kiss with Jason intertwines with previous instances, like the one with Ao'nung, creating a mosaic of mistakes that weigh on Neteyam's conscience. The question echoes in his mind: Why does he allow himself to succumb to impulsivity when alcohol becomes a part of the equation?

A wave of self-censure washes over him, fueled by the fear of repeating the same mistakes and the desire to regain control over his actions. The internal dialogue becomes a battleground between acknowledging his own vulnerabilities and the determination to break free from the cycle of regret.

The attempt to banish thoughts of Jason, to erase his name from mental recollection, proves futile. The shared spaces, like the poetry club, render avoidance nearly impossible. Neteyam grapples with the complexity of emotions, oscillating between the impulse to forget and the acknowledgment that some connections are inescapable.

In the quest for self-restoration, Neteyam faces the challenge of confronting not only the external repercussions but also the internal turmoil that accompanies the aftermath of his actions. The journey toward healing becomes an intricate dance, navigating the fragments of regret while seeking a path toward self-forgiveness and understanding.

In the sanctuary of his room, Neteyam retreats into the secret alphabet he crafted during his childhood—a realm of symbols and coded language that once served as a refuge for his thoughts. The familiar characters become a conduit for the unspoken truths and emotions that he grapples with.

As the pen moves across the paper, Neteyam finds solace in the silent dance of the secret alphabet. Each carefully formed symbol carries the weight of his reflections, a private dialogue etched onto the pages. The coded language becomes a veil, shielding the vulnerability of his thoughts from the outside world.

The act of writing in this clandestine script becomes a therapeutic exercise, a way to externalize the complexities of his feelings without the fear of immediate judgment. The secret alphabet, once a childhood creation, transforms into a tool for navigating the labyrinth of his own emotions.

In the coded messages, Neteyam captures the essence of his struggles, the regret, and the desire for self-redemption. The symbols on the paper become a silent testimony to the ongoing journey of self-discovery and healing, a language only he can fully decipher.

As Neteyam writes in his secret alphabet, he finds a semblance of control over the chaotic landscape of his emotions. The coded words carry the weight of unspoken confessions, allowing him to grapple with the intricacies of his recent experiences in a space where vulnerability is translated into symbols that only he can truly understand.

Neteyam, consumed by the internal turmoil, sits in a quiet corner of his room, the soft glow of a desk lamp casting shadows on his furrowed brow. Nervously, he brings his hands to his mouth, and the rhythmic sound of nails being chewed becomes a physical manifestation of his spiraling thoughts.

The room feels stifling as Neteyam, lost in contemplation, compulsively gnaws at his nails. It's a subconscious response to the unease that churns within him—a tangible outlet for the anxiety that courses through his veins. The taste of bitterness and the sting of his raw cuticles serve as a sensory distraction from the whirlwind of emotions.

His eyes dart across the room, restless and searching for an escape from the labyrinth of his thoughts. The echoes of regret and fear reverberate in his mind, each chewed nail a testament to the mounting pressure he feels.

As he spirals deeper into self-reflection, Neteyam's gestures become more pronounced. The once neatly groomed nails now bear the marks of his unease. It's a physical manifestation of the internal struggle, a small but tangible representation of the complexities he grapples with.

In this intimate moment of vulnerability, Neteyam's chewing on his nails becomes a silent admission of the storm that rages within. The slow, repetitive motion mirrors the circular nature of his thoughts, a cycle that seems relentless in its grip, leaving him teetering on the edge of emotional unraveling.

The weight of Neteyam's internal struggle becomes too much to bear, and as he chews on his nails, a profound sadness wells up within him. His eyes, once focused on the coded symbols on the paper, now betray the storm of emotions raging beneath the surface.

A single tear escapes the corner of his eye, tracing a path down his cheek. The room feels charged with the heaviness of unspoken pain. Neteyam sniffs, attempting to hold back the tide of emotions, but the dam begins to crack.

In a vulnerable moment, his breath catches, and he lets out a soft, involuntary whimper. The internal turmoil spills over, and Neteyam succumbs to the overwhelming sadness that has taken root within him. The rhythmic sniffles escalate into deeper breaths, each inhalation laden with the weight of unshed tears.

Unable to contain the flood any longer, Neteyam's eyes well up, and the first sob escapes his lips. His shoulders tremble with the force of pent-up emotions, and the room becomes a witness to the raw vulnerability that unfolds in the silent corners of his solitude.

Before he can stop it, the dam breaks, and Neteyam bursts into tears. The emotional release is both cathartic and painful, a cascade of unspoken truths and unrelenting sorrow that pours out in a torrent. In the midst of his tears, he grapples with the complexities of friendship, the fear of judgment, and the weight of the unspoken secret that haunts him.

As Neteyam's tears flow, the emotional turmoil intensifies, and a sense of panic grips him. The room, once a sanctuary, now feels claustrophobic, its walls closing in on him. His heartbeat quickens, echoing the frantic pace of his racing thoughts.

A sense of helplessness washes over Neteyam as he grapples with the weight of the unspoken secret, the fear of consequences, and the uncertainty of the future. His breath becomes shallow, erratic gasps punctuating the air, each inhale a struggle to find some semblance of control.

His hands tremble, the coded symbols on the paper now a blur through tear-filled eyes. The panic manifests physically, coursing through his veins like a surge of electricity. Neteyam fidgets, unable to find a comfortable position, a tangible manifestation of the inner chaos he is experiencing.

In the throes of panic, irrational thoughts and fears race through his mind, each more daunting than the last. The uncharted territory he finds himself in becomes a maze with no clear exit, and the fear of being exposed threatens to suffocate him.

Neteyam's thoughts spiral into a vortex of anxiety, and he grapples with the desperate need to regain control. The room becomes a labyrinth, the air thick with an overwhelming sense of dread. In the midst of this emotional tempest, he clings to whatever fragments of stability he can find, desperately seeking an anchor amidst the storm.

Driven by a frenzied impulse, Neteyam abruptly stands up, his movements erratic as he grabs a bunch of things scattered across his room. His hands shake with a mixture of anxiety and determination. In a rushed frenzy, he gathers his nail polishes and makeup items, the symbols of self-expression and identity, and clutches them tightly.

With a sense of urgency, he storms into the kitchen, the bags of cosmetics in hand. The kitchen bins stand before him, their purpose suddenly transformed into vessels of disposal. Without hesitation, Neteyam throws away the nail polishes and makeup, the clattering sound echoing in the silence of the room.

The act is both impulsive and desperate, a symbolic purge of the external layers that conceal the internal struggles. Each discarded item becomes a tangible representation of the complexities he wishes to cast away. The colors and textures, once tools of self-expression, now feel like burdens too heavy to carry.

As the last item falls into the bin, Neteyam takes a step back, breathing heavily. The kitchen bins hold the remnants of his external identity, discarded in a moment of emotional upheaval. The room is left in a surreal stillness, the discarded items a silent testament to the profound internal conflict that spurred this impromptu act of purging.

Neteyam, in the grip of emotional turmoil and a desperate need to distance himself from the complexities of his recent experiences, convinces himself that removing aspects of his personality will somehow shield him from further pain. The belief that Jason might be drawn to the very things he associates with regret becomes a catalyst for a drastic decision.

In a misguided attempt to sever the connection, Neteyam continues his impulsive purge. This time, he turns his attention to items that hold sentimental value, things that he believes might have drawn Jason's attention. Personal mementos, cherished belongings, and pieces of his identity that once brought him joy now become casualties of this internal struggle.

As he systematically removes these items, a sense of emptiness fills the void left behind. The room, once adorned with the colors and artifacts of Neteyam's unique identity, now feels stark and barren. It's a symbolic sacrifice, a painful effort to erase the traces of himself that he associates with vulnerability.

However, beneath the surface of this desperate act, Neteyam grapples with the realization that suppressing his true self won't mend the complexities of his recent interactions. The discarded items, now relegated to the shadows of memory, serve as silent witnesses to the profound internal conflict that has led him to this moment of self-erasure.

In the aftermath of his impulsive purge, Neteyam stands alone in the kitchen, surrounded by the remnants of discarded belongings. The air hangs heavy with the weight of his actions, and silence fills the space, leaving him in a stunned state of contemplation.

The discarded items in the bins serve as a poignant reflection of the sacrifices he felt compelled to make, and the stark reality of the barren kitchen intensifies the emptiness within. The consequences of his impulsive decisions settle upon him, and the gravity of what he has done begins to sink in.

Staring at the kitchen bins, Neteyam grapples with a profound sense of loss. The items he disposed of were not just possessions; they were fragments of his identity, markers of his journey, and symbols of self-expression. Now, the once-vibrant elements that surrounded him are reduced to silent witnesses of a tumultuous moment in his life.

In the quiet of the kitchen, a swirl of emotions courses through him—regret, confusion, and a growing awareness that erasing external traces of himself won't resolve the internal conflicts. The stunned silence becomes a canvas for introspection, a space where Neteyam must confront the repercussions of his impulsive actions and navigate the complexities of the uncharted territory ahead.

Chapter 102: Poetry of Life

Summary:

Neteyam reflects

Notes:

Sorry for vanishing 🫢
I had exams and the very next day I flew off to Italy for almost a week😳
And I got asked out two days ago too and visited a neighbouring city 🫣
And the new semester is about to start
Yall could check out my trip on my insta of yall want at bbttna_ or my tiktok at gizella777 🤫🧡🫶🏻

---

He was a photograph, etched into skip — warm, like summer's brightest rays seeping in. Skin dusted in the patterns of the Milky Way — freckles of honey and chocolate along his flesh. Goosebumps in the winter morning, goosebumps from his kisses.

He was a photograph, captured in time, unwavering, unchanging, eternally tinting the page of shiny surface. 

At least, at times, he felt like that. Other times, he was nothing. Not even a thought. There are moments in time, when nobody thought of him. Maybe on a Monday morning, busy rushing to places to be, he may not have crosses anyone's mind. Occasionally, his presence would linger with the wind and everyone would be thinking of him.

Of a boy with long braids, freckles, and miles of skin, tinted pale here and there akin to the art of coffee. 

Yet here he was, chasing versions of himself lost long ago to seas of stormy weather; hourglasses long since stilled by the turn of seasons. Five years ago, he wouldn't have thought to be here, to be tainted; a blackened soul, as the seas blackened by squid's ink. 

Yet here he was; jaw tighter, cheeks a little sharper, eyes a little less wide — he marvels still at the wonders of the world, just not nearly so often that he'd feel the feathery kisses of hope with each breath he takes.

Memories swirls along his skin, tracing the barks of trees thickened by age, many rings along their insides, woven with stories of their lifetime. 

Until the excitement wears off.

Then, when that comes to reality, who will he be? 

When people stop marvelling at his poems, at his skills. When the last archery competition is won — or perhaps lost, he's no witch to see the future. One can hope, still, to be a better version than the version of the night before.

He can feel the leftovers from the night before, on the roof of his mouth or the gentle swell of his gums. He can feel skin on skin, and remember the way his heart went wild, crazy with fear and yet unwilling to show a sign of resistance, of denying — but denial is a long river to swim upstream. And an even linger one to let drown him. But somehow, he's forgotten to swim. 

Sharks bite at his toes —  dolphins bruise at his ribs with their nose. Yet all he can do is float in the nothingness of his mind. There's emptiness there, yet no space for anything else. 

He wonders if his worth is defined — if anything, his honour is bruised and he feels a touch less credible, honest, trustworthy, loveable. 
Nobody knows. 
Nobody but the one there that night. 
And he himself. 
And that's only two souls among the many on this earth. 

The pictures of the past in his mind blur, fine lines of the years smearing together until they turn indigo then fade to grey. Sometimes his own age is elusive and he forgets how many days he's been here. It feels like a lot, yet none at all at the same time.

His fingertips turn cold with fear — stomach coiling, breath of coffee frosting the window of his room as stands there and stares outside. It's a cloudy day. Every day is a cloudy day, even if the sun shines through white, fluffy veils because the clouds are not on the sky, but etched into his mind.

In the solitude of his room, Neteyam continues to stare outside, the cloudy day mirroring the turbulence within his mind. The weight of fear coils in his stomach, fingertips tingling with a cold unease. The echoes of the night before reverberate, leaving indelible marks on his sense of self.

As he stands there, enveloped in the cloudy atmosphere of his thoughts, Neteyam wrestles with the elusive nature of his own identity. The bruises on his honor and the lingering sense of lessened credibility become palpable, shadows that dance on the periphery of his consciousness.

The window becomes a canvas for introspection, the frosty breath of coffee mirroring the fog that obscures his path forward. Uncertainty, like a thick cloud, settles in the corners of his mind, and the indigo hues of fading memories intertwine with the grey of the present.

Neteyam's gaze shifts from the outside world to the reflection in the window—a visual metaphor for the internal struggle he grapples with. The boy with long braids, freckles, and miles of skin, once vivid in his own perception, now appears distorted in the misty glass.

He wonders about the worth defined by others and contemplates the impact of that fateful night on his sense of self. The question lingers—will he be able to redefine himself beyond the judgments and uncertainties that haunt him?

In the cloudy stillness, Neteyam's thoughts swirl like the veiled sky outside. The metaphorical clouds etched into his mind seem to dissipate for a moment, allowing a glimpse of clarity. Yet, the journey ahead remains shrouded in uncertainty, and Neteyam finds himself at the crossroads of self-discovery, grappling with the complexities of identity and the relentless passage of time.

And what if they find out? What all of it comes to light and everyone his heart longs for turns and walks away from him? 

But what if. 

What if he returns to that place. 

What if he does it again.

Fool him once, fool him twice.

What if he's weak — like fresh grass under relentless helicopter blades. What if he finds himself loosened by alcohol on his lips — what if he finds lips... on his lips again. And they're not the lips that gave him this ring. 

Could he have fallen from grace? Could he have lost his way? Perhaps he's nearly insane — pearly whites no longer curled up, nor twinkling as his nose wrinkles in delight. 

The journey toward self-discovery becomes a precarious tightrope walk, each step fraught with the weight of consequences and the fear of losing the very essence of who he once was. 

As Neteyam grapples with these haunting possibilities, the clouds of uncertainty in his mind deepen, casting shadows over the delicate balance he seeks to maintain between the person he was and the person he hopes to become.

Days pass in the echo of unanswered questions, the weight of uncertainty pressing upon Neteyam's shoulders. The cloudy atmosphere within his mind refuses to dissipate, casting a gloom over his introspection. The fear of revelation, of the "what ifs" materializing into reality, becomes a constant companion in his thoughts.

The contrast between the lips that once sealed commitment and the allure of potential indiscretion looms large, a stark reminder of the choices that define one's character. The internal turmoil reflects in his gaze, and the once-joyful spark in his eyes seems dimmed, clouded by the internal storms that rage.

He's but a shadow of the ghost he was before.

As Neteyam navigates this turbulent terrain, the clouds of uncertainty persist, obscuring the path forward. The resolution to the internal struggle remains elusive, and the shadows of doubt continue to cast their veil over the delicate balance he seeks to maintain.

He fears going somewhere he might regret, so goes nowhere at all, just to keep the peace.

Who is he without his golden image? Without bright eyes and notes of scribbles in lecture halls. Who is he without skipping class to attend another class and ask for Ao'nung's notes later. Who is he without visiting the dorms every few afternoons. Who is he now that he lives off campus — not in his childhood home. He feels defined by places he's been and places he goes and right this very moment — he feels undefined. 

In the absence of movement, Neteyam finds himself suspended in a stagnant state, the fear of regret paralyzing his every step. The decision to go nowhere becomes a cautious choice, a hesitant attempt to maintain a semblance of peace and avoid the potential pitfalls that lurk in unfamiliar territories.

The places he's been and the routines he once followed defined him, shaping the contours of his identity. Now, in the stillness of non-movement, he finds himself standing on unfamiliar ground, a landscape without the familiar landmarks that once guided him. The very essence of who he is seems to dissipate in this undefined moment, leaving him to navigate the uncertainty of self-discovery without the comforting crutches of routine and familiar spaces.

The journey of self-definition takes an unexpected turn, and he contemplates whether the version of himself that emerges from this period of stillness will bear any resemblance to the person he once knew.

Chapter 103: Bygone Days

Summary:

New semester has started and my laptop is almost fixed 🙌🏻
I had a lot of administrative stuff to do and I'm gonna attend an extra language course outside of uni this time next to classes 🙃
I was officially asked out early February and while I was not writing I baked my first cake, joined a dorm party (shits wild, its even better than I thought and wrote about in the beginning of the story)🫢
Also finally had enough and ranted at my mother for being a b*tch this weekend and she seems chill now aside from expecting me to go home every single weekend right after class because "there is no need for me to hang out with my friends or go on dates" 🥴
I may have agreed but she can suck my dust I ain't going nowhere

Notes:

Anyway, enjoy 😉 😘 ✨️

---

In the quiet solitude of his room, Neteyam sits at his desk, surrounded by the remnants of his daily life. The soft glow of lamplight casts gentle shadows on the walls, creating an atmosphere of tranquility. Outside, the world moves with its usual rhythm, but within these four walls, time seems to stand still.

With a heavy sigh, Neteyam runs his fingers through his hair, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon him. The events of recent days weigh heavily on his mind, casting a shadow over his thoughts. He longs for clarity, for a sense of direction in the midst of the swirling chaos that threatens to engulf him.

Leaning back in his chair, Neteyam closes his eyes, seeking solace in the silence. Memories of happier times flit through his mind, like fragments of a forgotten melody. He recalls moments of laughter and friendship, of shared dreams and whispered confidences. But beneath the surface lies a current of unease, a nagging doubt that refuses to be silenced.

Lost in thought, Neteyam reaches for a notebook on his desk, its pages blank and inviting. With a sense of purpose, he picks up a pen and begins to write, allowing his thoughts to flow freely onto the page. Words spill forth like a stream of consciousness, weaving a tapestry of hopes, fears, and unanswered questions.

As he writes, the weight on Neteyam's shoulders begins to lift, replaced by a sense of catharsis. The act of putting pen to paper becomes a form of release, a way to make sense of the tumultuous emotions swirling within him. Each word is a step towards clarity, a glimmer of light in the darkness that threatens to consume him.

Hours pass, and still, Neteyam writes, pouring his heart out onto the page. By the time he sets his pen down, the room is bathed in the soft hues of dawn, a new day dawning outside his window. Though the uncertainty remains, there is a newfound sense of peace in his heart, a quiet resolve to face whatever lies ahead.

With a weary smile, Neteyam closes his notebook and stands, feeling lighter than he has in days. This weird journey of self-discovery continues, but for now, he finds solace in the simple act of putting his thoughts into words. With renewed determination, he steps out into the world, ready to face whatever challenges may come his way.

But first, he needs a nap.

A long one. 

He wonders how long it will take before he will feel okay again — if he will at all. 

He knows his life isn't a book; it's not a carefully planned out story in which all the little details will suddenly make sense. The writer of his story is not Dostojewski, or Brontë, Shelley, nor Shakespeare. His life isn't supposed to be tragic, nor interesting to anyone but him. He feels like for a while he's lost himself and he's only just not starting to come back to his senses. He feels a little bit like a bear, yawning away in the early mornings of a new, warmer season as weeks old hibernation is shaken from his bones.

But is that all life is?

Just a flutter of moments that won't ever build up anywhere; no Höhepunkt at the end of his story. Nothing to say his life has amounted to anything.

The thought pierces his chest like a bullet and leaves a gaping hole in his back — but it doesn't hurt. 

Nothing hurts.

Nothing is.

Everything is just nothing all of a sudden. The world is grey; rules are faded. His eyes feel heavy and his hands feel dry, the skin stretching unpleasantly. 

He feels like everything about him is nothing; but at the same time the nothingness that is him is everything and more. 

His senses dull, his eyes heavy with the weight of existential despair, and his hands dry and lifeless. The very essence of who he is seems to evaporate into the void, leaving behind a hollow shell of emptiness.And yet, within this void, there is a paradoxical sense of completeness. The nothingness that engulfs him becomes everything and more, a boundless expanse of possibility and potential. In this moment of existential crisis, Neteyam finds himself teetering on the precipice of existence, grappling with the fundamental questions of life and meaning.

And so, with a heavy heart and a weary soul, Neteyam takes a tentative step forward into the abyss, knowing that the journey of self-discovery is not about reaching a destination, but about embracing the journey itself, no matter how uncertain or ephemeral it may be.

The abyss welcomes him; he stands in the middle of his room, eyes closed. He can imagine it all, but it's not a clear picture. Yet it brings comfort. 

He can see himself as though he was an outsider; he can see himself in Budapest by the river and he can see himself in the crowded streets of Italian towns. He can see his fingers tap along a piano with just a hint of skill — rhythm is not his strong point. He can see himself — he can almost feel it too — holding a bar in a room of mirrors, younger than he is now. 
He can see himself back in the dorms, sitting on Ao'nung's bed with a cider and copying the taller male's notes after class. He can see himself in his own old dorm room — with the pictures on the wall — with Lo'ak. The light is still on and it's midnight. They're in bed,  and Lo'ak has a cold. He coughs from time to time and Neteyam — he's listening to music, lying on his back. 

And everything is fine.

Amidst these visions of distant lands and bygone days, it is the quiet moments of intimacy that resonate most deeply with Neteyam.

In these moments, Neteyam finds reassurance that, despite the uncertainties that lie ahead, everything will be fine. The ebb and flow of life may bring its challenges and its sorrows, but amidst it all, there is beauty to be found in the quiet moments of connection and the fleeting joys of existence. And as he opens his eyes to the world once more, he carries with him the knowledge that, no matter what the future may hold, he is not alone.

Chapter 104: Dreams are the seedlings of reality

Summary:

This chapter feels a bit messy but anyway
Hope u enjoy

Notes:

Also, I feel like I've been dragging on this work for too long now so I might try to end in soon

---

As Neteyam stands in the midst of his memories, surrounded by the echoes of his past, he imagines as a sense of peace washes over him. It's a curious feeling, one he's almost forgotten, but if he closes his eyes, he can almost feel it. The visions of distant memories and intimate moments act as reminders of the richness of his experiences, despite the uncertainties that lie ahead, and the hardships he wishes he didn't have to go through but knows he will have to endure anyway.

He feels a bit like a piece of his soul had been ripped form his chest.

It's not something he's ever felt before.

 It's almost as though he was born on the wrong planet - when he closes his eyes, everything is blue, even himself sometimes. When he thinks, he doesn't think in English, but the language of his ancestors. A language he speaks sometimes to himself when he's alone and longs to speak to the spirits of the past, na’vi. Just like a part of him, who he is because of his mother.

He feels ugly on photographs.
He doesn’t look like he did even just a year ago. He looks older, his cheeks tense and eyes darker under his lashes, akin to a shadow that falls over him, wrapping around him like a blanket too thin to warm him during a cold winter night. 

It's all coming back - his insecurities about being the only non-curly haired sibling, his feelings of self-doubt about his vitiligo. 

With a restored awareness of his anxiety, Neteyam takes a deep breath and opens his eyes to the present moment.

 The soft glow of lamplight bathes the room in a warm embrace, casting gentle shadows on the walls. Outside, the world continues to move with its usual rhythm, but within these four walls, Neteyam feels a sense of stillness that he hasn't felt in days. It feels the same as when he threw everything away.

Slowly, he begins to move, the weight of existential despair lifting from his shoulders with each step. He crosses the room with purpose, his movements fluid and deliberate. With a sense of determination, he picks up his notebook from the desk and flips through its pages, the words he had written earlier staring back at him. He's taken a moment to write out everything that he'd felt and done in the past few months since his father's death, since the poetry club, since getting engaged.

As he reads, Neteyam is struck by the raw honesty and vulnerability of his own words. The act of pouring his heart out onto the page has left him feeling exposed, but also strangely liberated. He realizes that by confronting his fears and uncertainties head-on, he has taken the first step towards reclaiming his sense of self.

But in the next second, he feels lost again. What would Ao'nung do if he knew about Jason? Would he hate Neteyam for it? But more importantly, would he hate Neteyam for being curious about it. Would he hate Neteyam if he knew that Neteyam didn’t entirely regret it all.

Neteyam picks up his pen once more and begins to write. This time, his words don’t flow as effortlessly, as if guided by some unseen force. His pen feels heavy, the ballpoint scratching his secrets onto the pages. He writes of faith and strength; of the power he has found within himself to face whatever challenges may come his way – of the weakness of the thought of not being able to face them.

Hours pass in a blur as Neteyam loses himself his notebook. The room is filled with the soft scratching of pen on paper, a rhythmic melody that serves as a soundtrack to his thoughts. With each word he writes, he feels a sense of something he cannot quite put into words, as if he is shaping his own destiny with every stroke of the pen.

With a contented sigh, Neteyam closes his eyes and allows himself to bask in the quiet solitude of his room. The weight of the world may still rest upon his shoulders, but he faces it now with a newfound sense of resilience and determination. And as he drifts off to sleep sitting at his desk, he knows that no matter what challenges may come his way, he will face them with courage and grace, guided by the strength he has found within himself.

Cold dread washes over him, even as he sleeps.

Why doesn’t he feel regret about Jason kissing him? Why does it not seem like such a bad thing anymore? It’s as though his morals have flown out the window. Ao’nung is his fiancé. Neteyam should hate everyone who tries to get between that.

Does Jason even know about Ao’nung? And why can’t Neteyam remember.

He wakes up in cold sweat, eyes wide and teary. He’s alone tonight; Ao’nung is having a night out with Rotxo. Lo’ak and Tsireya are visiting Neytiri. They’ve all stopped trying to get Neteyam to go anywhere with him. He’s been saying no an awful lot lately. He’s even skipped poetry club. It just doesn’t bring him joy anymore.

Jason’s messaged him a few times but Neteyam has taken to ignoring him.

The worst thing about it is the guilt that sits in his chest like a lead weight, dragging him down into a dark abyss. He can't seem to shake the feeling that he's done something terribly wrong, but he can't for the life of him figure out what it is. He knows he shouldn't have kissed Jason, but something in his gut tells him there's more to it than that. He just can't put his finger on it.

He's been crying a lot lately, more than he would like to admit. He feels as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders, and he's constantly battling with himself internally over his choices and his feelings. Sometimes, he feels so overwhelmed that all he can do is curl up in a ball and cry, wishing for the pain to stop.

He's been struggling with his anxiety and depression for a while now, and it's only getting worse. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to talk to anyone about it, not even his family. He doesn't want them to worry, or worse, judge him.

It's not just the guilt that's eating away at him, though. There's also the loneliness. He feels as if he's isolated himself from the world, and he doesn't know how to fix it. He's so afraid of rejection that he doesn't even try to reach out to others, and he's sure that they've noticed. He can see it in the way they look at him, with concern and pity.

Ao'nung doesn't try to ask him what's wrong, but he's a comforting presence in his life still. He comforts Neteyam, plays his favourite songs for him and braids his hair, always learning new styles. Ao'nung is a blessing in Neteyam's life, and Neteyam feels incredibly lucky to have him.

But sometimes, even the presence of the one you love isn't enough to ease the pain.

Sometimes, you must face the darkness alone.

He remembers a conversation he'd had with Ao'nung about the nature of existence. They'd been lying in bed together, Ao'nung running his fingers through Neteyam's hair.

"Do you ever wonder what the point of it all is?" Ao'nung had asked, his voice soft and contemplative. "What we're doing here, I mean."

"The point of what?" Neteyam had replied, glancing up at him.

"Life, existence, all of it," Ao'nung had said, his brow furrowed slightly. "We're born, we live for a few decades, and then we die. I sometimes wonder if there's more to it."

"Well, I suppose the point of it all is whatever we make it," Neteyam had mused. "If we live our lives with meaning and purpose, then that's the point. If we make each other's lives better, then that's the point."

"I guess you're right," Ao'nung had murmrued to himself, hugging Neteyam closer.

In this moment, the point is to help him.

Neteyam sighs as he sits back, taking a moment to survey the dark room around him.  He needs to go somewhere. But where?

His eyes fall on the small desk pushed against the wall, a pile of books and papers strewn haphazardly across it. Maybe he should just read for a while, let his mind relax. So he shuffles to his desk and picks of his copy of Wuthering Heights. He's read it a million times, but something about it is so comforting and familiar.

As he turns to the first page, a folded piece of paper falls out. Curious, Neteyam sets the book aside and picks up the paper, unfolding it carefully.

He feels his breath catch in his throat as he reads the words scrawled across the page. It seems to be a little quote.

"The greatest achievement was at first and for a time a dream. The oak sleeps in the acorn; the bird waits in the egg; and in the highest vision of the soul a waking angel stirs. Dreams are the seedlings of reality."

James Allen.

The words resonate with him, stirring something deep within his soul. He feels as if he's been struck by lightning, the words lighting a fire inside of him.

He’s going to tell Ao’nung about Jason.

Chapter 105: Coffee and Tea

Summary:

Bruh I got my highest grade yet in korean
I'm shook

Notes:

I may have developed a bit of an obsession with feyd too so there's that

---

Dreams are the seedlings of reality.

Neteyam sighs.

Traumas alter the brain — Neteyam assumes. He's read that children growing up in unsafe homes have brains that developed differently than those who grew up in healthy homes.

He didn't really grow up in an unsafe home but—

"Hey, bro, when was the last time you went to archery practice?" Lo'ak flops down beside him on the sofa, a popsicle hanging from his mouth. It's blue.

Neteyam startles, inhaling sharply.  "What—"

He realises he hasn't been to practise in the last couple of weeks; which is a long time if he thinks about it. He's certainly missed a competition or too. Which sucks since training isn't free, and he pays not to show up.

Lo'ak frowns, brows furrowing. He switches to holding the popsicle by its stick. He shifts, grabbing a pillow and hugging it. "What's up with you lately, bro? It's like you're never here. But you're here, I guess. Just not in your body."

Neteyam can tell Lo'ak sees every little muscle in his body tense. He decides to show a little bit of his inner turmoilto his brother. "Feels a bit like lucid dreaming."

"What?" Lo'ak breathes out. He leans a little closer to his brother, who is staring ahead, almost unblinking. "Come on, bro. You can talk to me. What's up with you?"

Neteyam bites the inside of his cheek. He wants to tell Lo'ak what happened but somehow it feels like the words are blocked by some invisible force. It tells him to be ashamed, to regret. So why doesn't he?

He hisses suddenly, and Lo'ak startles because it doesn't sound human; Neteyam frowns, shaking his head. "It's nothing."

Lo'ak's face smooths out. He merely watches Neteyam, curious. Neteyam cannot tell what he's feeling. He seems perfectly stoic, like a doll of some sort. "But it's not nothing. You've been weird for weeks."

Neteyam's brow twitches, taking offense in what Lo'ak meant as a harmless observation. "I'm not weird—"

Lo'ak sighs, rubbing his forehead. He's never been good at comforting anyone, much less his brother. It's always been the other way round. Beautiful, strong Neteyam would dote on little old Lo'ak and help him overcome whatever it is that bothers him. "I'm not insulting you, bro."

"It sure felt like it," Neteyam grumbles, uncrossing his legs and standing. "I don't want to have this conversation so—"

"We have to," Lo'ak insists. He stands, grabbing Neteyam's wrist. The popsicle in his other hand begins to melt. 

Neteyam eyes it with disdain. "It's going to drip all over the sofa—"

Lo'ak deadpans. "Bro, literally come on. Who even cares about that right now? I want to know what's up with you, not where my popsicle is dripping!"

Neteyam doesn't react, at least not outwardly, to Lo'ak's voice rising in volume. He clicks his tongue and tugs his arm free. "There's nothing up with me. Quit pestering me."

Lo'ak doesn't give up. He grabs Neteyam's upper arm instead and all but yanks him back down onto the sofa. "You quit being a little bitch, fuck's sake, Neteyam. Why don't you notice that we're trying to help you? All you do is just wallow in misery and ignore us."

Neteyam gives in and doesn't try to flee the room again. He rubs at his arm gingerly and rolls his eyes. "That is not a crime."

"No, but it's getting old," Lo'ak cuts in, scowling as his popsicle melts onto his hand. He simply throws it into the little trashcan in the corner of the room before licking his hand clean. He walks back to Neteyam, who hasn't responded in the time it took Lo'ak to rid himself of the popsicle. "Stop staring at me like I plucked your eyelashes out."

Neteyam scowls. "I'm not."

"I don't get why you're being defensive," Lo'ak huffs. "I'm just trying to help you."

"It's not working," Neteyam sing-songs, fully aware that his tone will do nothing but piss his brother off further. 

Lo'ak's eyebrow twitches. "I swear, you're just trying to fuck me at this point."

"No," Neteyam replies swiftly. "I told you I don't want to talk and you're not leaving me alone."

"Would you rather I told mom that something is wrong with you?" Lo'ak challenges.

Neteyam cannot take it anymore. He stands, this time slapping Lo'ak's hand away when the younger makes a move to grab him again. "Nothing is wrong with me. Stay out of my business, Lo'ak."

Lo'ak huffs, jaw tense as Neteyam turns on his heels and storms out of the room. He can hear his older brother moving around in his room before he sees him again, this time fully dressed, phone in hand. Lo'ak doesn't want to worsen the situation, so he stays quiet and just sits there, watching as Neteyam tugs on his shoes and exists the apartment, slamming the door.

Lo'ak isn't sure if he went about it the wrong way; maybe Neteyam is just... just what? Lo'ak huffs. He cannot find the words to describe his brother right now. He's worried and angry all the same time.

Instead of following up on his threat about telling their mother, he decides to just simply call Kiri and whine about Neteyam to her. She usually knows what to do. Maybe she'll have something smart to say about this situation too. He hopes, anyway.

Meanwhile, Neteyam hurries down the street, cuts through the park and doesn't stop until he reaches the University buildings. He doesn't have class right now, but he doesn't care. He just wants somewhere to be where nobody will bother him. He might run into Rotxo or Spider, or some classmates, but he's never argued with any of them before.

Instead, he stumbles upon the devil himself.

Neteyam curses loudly, unable to help himself and turns the corner, but he already gave himself away.

"Neteyam—" Jason calls out, glancing at his friends and mouthing something before he hurries after the archer.  "Hey, wait a second."

"I'm in a hurry—" Neteyam says with more force than he means to. His head spins and anxiety coils in his stomach.

Jason frowns but catches up to walk beside him. "Okay, listen, I know we talked about this before—"

Neteyam stops and turns to face him, jaw set. "There's nothing to talk about."

"But there—"

"No," Neteyam hisses, gritting his teeth. "I said there's nothing to talk about, so there isn't."

"Oh, so you get the final say?" Jason's face contorts into a glare.

It doesn't scare Neteyam. He feels a strange sense of calm wash over him. His face relaxes and he stands a little straighter. "You rather I told people you make moves on engaged people?"

"I was drunk—" Jason cuts in. "That would be so low of you."

"Not any more low than what you did. In case you haven't noticed, I haven't been looking for your company for weeks now. And I'd rather it stayed that way."

"I can't with you."

"So don't," Neteyam scoffs and walks past Jason, knocking into his shoulder.

He hates arguing in public; he thinks it's childish and rather un-smart, but he sure as hell wouldn't invite Jason anywhere near his apartment or an empty classroom.

And then Neteyam decides to never attend poetry club anymore; and the sun somehow shines, blinding him as golden rays bathe his figure. He forgets everyone he met there; he forgets Jason as fast as his steps and enters a random building, beelining for a vending machine. He punches in the number for a coffee, caramel macchiato, and all but slaps his card into the right spot to pay.

A girl who had arrived behind him flinches back and glances around before deciding to walk away instead, giving up coffee to avoid his anger. Even if he wouldn't do anything to her.

Suddenly, the world is quiet.

Neteyam sits down not far from the vending machine on a bench and takes in the old interior of the university building. He stares into his coffee and clears his throat. Then, he decides to put in his earbuds and lets a random song play. The Yawning Grave by Lord Huron starts quietly in his ear, so he turns up the volume.

All that's left to do is tell Ao'nung.

No one else has to know.

He listens to the lyrics and allows his shoulders to sag in relief. He exhales slowly, quietly and rubs at his eyes tiredly, nerves fried and yet so calm at the same time. The universe halts, Eywa caresses his soul.

As he sits there, people walk by, in groups, alone, just two. It varies. There's a girl with a suitcase, probably catching the train after her last class. A group of men walk by, some with buns, some with acne. Someone smells somewhat sweaty. His nose scrunches.

All the seats fill up; people start sitting along the edges of the stairs, typing or scrolling away.
There's a girl who is scribbling away furiously, even her hair seems stressed as the soft baby-strands stick up to the sky. Neteyam notices that she's left handed. Beside her a few steps away, a guy is yawning, skin tinting purple under his eyes, hair a bit greasy. He smells strange, Neteyam tilts his head, like weed. It doesn't seem so unlikely.

As people began drifting towards the exist, a girl in deep blue jeans and a grey Minnesota sweater glances around as she sits on the stairs before hurriedly standing, grabbing her bag. She takes up one of the now empty seats and plops her bag on the othet one beside her.

Neteyam changes the song to Rule #9 - Child of the Stars.

His leg swings a bit as he sits there, lingering. He feels a bit like he isn't in his own body again; he remembers when he threw his things away and locked his personality away. He thinks back to the night with Jason. He cannot remember if Jason knew about his engagement. It feels right that he did, though. He had to have known.

Neteyam's gaze follows two girls as they walk by; one is blond, the other ginger. They look like they're from last decade somehow. He notes that neither are wearing makeup but their skin is clear.

People used to have more character back then, he thinks. Now everyone wears the same thing. And if someone famous starts wearing baggy jeans, so do most people. If they decide low-cut is out, then it's out.

Neteyam chews on the inside of his mouth, fiddling with his fingers.

He feels something in himself awaken.

"Neteyam?"

"Oh, Kaey, hi," Neteyam smiles carefully, taking his earbuds out.

"Can I sit?" Kaey grins, voice as soft as it usually is.

Neteyam scoots over with a nod. "How are you doing?"

Kaey hums, leaning back comfortably. "Alright. Got a lot to do lately. And yourself?"

Neteyam stares at the other male wearily, a puzzled look on his face. "I've had some complications."

"Oh." Kaey adjusts his legs. "What kind? Not with Ao'nung, I hope."

"No, no," Neteyam replies, waving his hand around.  "Ao'nung is fine. I've just been working through some stuff."

Something about Kaey feels familiar. Neteyam feels like he's known him in another life; perhaps they'd even been friends at some point.

The tan skinned male's face is soft as he watches Neteyam. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Not really.
"I guess."

"I'm listening, then," Kaey says light-heartedly, patting Neteyam's shoulder.

"Well," Neteyam begins. "I've just been having a hard time and all. I met some people and I don't think they're good for me."

"Have they done anything?" Kaey asks, voice a murmur. He seems to lean a little closer.

Neteyam notices the lighter in his pocket. He hasn't worn these pants in a while. He pulls it out and fiddles with it. "Just one of them. They're each other's friends though."

"That's tricky." Kaey nods. "But you don't have to stay friends if they make you feel bad."

"I guess not."

"You wanna go grab coffee with me?" Kaey smiles.

Neteyam agrees.

Notes:

Autocorrect keeps changing my words to misspelled or completely different ones🙄
So my bad if smth doesn't make sense

Chapter 106: Cannes

Summary:

I got possessed and now there's a double update again 👹
I have an exam on Tuesday though that is 30% of my grade so I'm not sure how much I'll be writing this weekend 🙃
Anyway
Enjoy

---

"So what happened?" Kaey asks as they sit down, waiting for their order number to be called.

Neteyam purses his lips, stomach churning. Whether by lack of food or nerves, he isn't sure. He settles down facing Kaey and clears his throat, linking his fingers together on the tabel. "Well..."

Kaey leans back, head tilting. "Take your time."

Neteyam almost finds himself offended until he registers the soft, gentle way the words roll of Kaey's tongue. "Alright. Okay. Sorry, I just haven't ever spoken to anyone about this before."

"Did it happen a while ago?" Kaey asks.

Neteyam cringes, staring down at the polished tabletop. "A few weeks."

"You want to tell me who is involved?"

"No." Neteyam bites his lower lip, teeth worrying at the skin almost painfully. He can feel his fingers begin to shake and wonders if the caffeine was a good idea after all. "No, it doesn't matter. There's just these three people who are friends and I know them too, but one of them... well... I went to their place and— so we had a few drinks and this person knows about Ao'nung but regardless—"

Kaey's face doesn't give away his feelings; he doesn't tense nor fidget. He's watching Neteyam. Not even carefully, just as one would watch the other during any regular conversation.

Neteyam stutters, cheeks heating. "I— so this person kissed me and I saw them today. I got angry and I said some rude things but..."

"Something similar happened to Naìtvì too once," Kaey hums out. "But the other person kissed you, right? Not the other way round."

Neteyam shakes his head, heart pounding against his ribs. "No. I didn't initiate it."

"You said you haven't told anyone before," Kaey muses, fiddling with his receipt. "Not even Ao'nung?"

"Not yet," Neteyam sighs, almost ashamed. "I don't want to upset him."

"Would it upset him not to know?" Kaey asks instead. "Or would it upset him more if he knew?"

Neteyam pauses. "Does that matter? Shouldn't he know?"

The barista calls out their numbers; Kaey stands. "I'll get them."

Neteyam watches him go, lips dry and suddenly not at all wanting to drink his coffee. Lactose free or not. He inhales shakily and fidgets, shuffling his feet until Kaey returns and sets his drink down in front of him. Coffee with an ice cream scoop inside. From Cannes supposedly.

"Thanks," he whispers and adjusts the way he's sitting. He grabs his straw and begins stabbing the ice-cream apart to melt into his already icy drink. Some of the cream sitting on top of it slips down the side of his glass. He ignores it.

Kaey ordered something Neteyam doesn't remember. "I don't see why you should feel bad about this. If someone tried to kiss me while knowing I'm married, that reflects badly on them, not me."

Neteyam pauses, lifting his gaze to meet the older male's pale eyes. "You think so?"

Kaey shrugs. "Unless you led him on, which I doubt since I know you, then it's the other person's fault."

"But we were drunk—"

"So?" Kaey cuts him off. "Do you go around kissing people just because you drank?"

"No–"

Kaey hums, leaning back. "See."

Neteyam sits back, processing Kaey's words as he stirs the melting ice cream in his coffee. He hadn't considered it from that perspective before. The weight of guilt and responsibility begins to lift from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of clarity and assurance.

"I guess you're right," Neteyam murmurs, a sense of relief washing over him. "It's not my fault if someone else chooses to act inappropriately, regardless of the circumstances."

Kaey nods in agreement, taking a sip of his drink. "Exactly. You shouldn't blame yourself for someone else's actions."

As Neteyam takes a hesitant sip of his now-melted coffee, he feels a newfound sense of resolve settle within him.

"Thanks, Kaey," Neteyam says softly, offering a small but genuine smile. "I appreciate you listening and helping me see things differently."

Kaey returns the smile, his eyes warm and understanding. "Anytime, Neteyam. That's what friends are for."

"Ooh, that's corny," Neteyam chuckles, caught off guard.

Kaey smirks, shrugging. "It is what it is."

Neteyam shakes his head in amusement. "I guess so."

"So, will you sleep better tonight?" Kaey teases lightly, tapping the toe of his shoes against Neteyam's.

"I think I will," Neteyam agrees. "But I think I still want to tell Ao'nung about it."

"Honesty is always good," Kaey responds, an easy smile on his face. "Ao'nung is a cool guy. He won't be upset at you. No guarantee that he won't try to punch that person, though."

"I wouldn't feel too bad."

Kaey snorts.

 

---

As Neteyam walks home, relief floods him. He's had fights with his brother before, so he isn't too worried about that. He hopes Ao'nung will arrive home soon as well, so he can finally pester him as he usually would. Or try to convince him to let Neteyam put makeup on him.

His steps falter. Right, he threw it all out. Well, at least it's a new start. Some of it was ready to expire anyway (or already has). He checks the time and realises the nearby drug store is still open for another thirty minutes or so. He picks up the pace of his steps and heads inside.

This close to closing, not many people are inside. In fact, it's just the workers. He feels a little sheepish for coming at this time, but he knows he isn't going to be a disturbance. He knows his shade and what products he'd like.

He heads to the makeup section, eyeing the different brands.

The store's stereo is playing Green Green Grass, so Neteyam turns off his earbuds, but keeps them in and wanders around. He knows he won't wear it much, but he gets a fancy little corrector stick with a brush applicator. Who knows when he'll get a pimple or another patch of vitiligo somewhere more noticeable. He picks himself a pallet of blue eyeshadow, satisfied when he notices some brown shades inside as well. He doesn't use mascara, but he does get some teal eyeliner.

He hesitates in front of the highlighters.

"Hi," an employee greets him, appearing out of nowhere. It's a young girl. "Looking for a gift?"

Neteyam tenses. "Ah. Yes. My sister—"

"Does she have your skintone?" She grins, clearly excited about something. "We can check if the concealer is the right shade, if you want."

Neteyam puts on a polite smile. "No, it's okay. This is the usual one. Thank you, though."

The girl's mood doesn't dim. She still grins wide, nearly buzzing. "Okay. Let me know if you need help."

She twirls away and head to her coworker.

Neteyam turns back to the highlighters, tucking his hair behind his ear. He overhears the girl swooning about him not feeling uncomfortable being seen buying women's products and resist rolling his eyes in amusement. So that's what that was about.

He finally decides that he doesn't need highlighter and picks two different colours of nail polish. Just in case he feels like wearing it one day. Would be nice for a party. Just before he turns to leave he spots a jewellery stand. He saunters over, knowing he's going overspend — he doesn't care, though, because, unlike usually, he notices some piercings beside the regual earrings. And there's a bellybutton piercing. Well, there are a few, but this one catches his eyes. It's very obviously for women, but that has never stopped him before. He carefully touches it with the tip of his finger. It's a dangly gold piece with a red stone of sorts. The weather will be warm enough to force him out of his winter clothes so.

Neteyam grabs the piercing and refuses to let himself look at anything else; he pays quickly, allowing a smile the excited girl's way before leaving.

The sky begins to darken, but he's in a good mood. Mostly. Of course, he's a little nervous about telling Ao'nung about Jason.

As he approaches his apartment building, he feels a flicker of anticipation mingled with apprehension at the thought of facing Ao'nung. He knows he needs to be honest with his brother about what happened with Jason, but the thought of potentially upsetting him still gnaws at him.

Pushing the thoughts aside for the moment, Neteyam climbs the stairs to their apartment, the click of his shoes echoing in the quiet hallway. He digs his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door, stepping inside with a sigh of relief.

The apartment is bathed in the warm glow of lamplight, casting long shadows across the floor. Neteyam kicks off his shoes and hangs up his coat, the familiar routine providing a sense of comfort amidst the lingering uncertainty.

"Ao'nung?" he calls out, peering into the living room. "Are you home?"There's no response, but Neteyam spots a note on the kitchen counter. He crosses the room and picks it up, scanning the familiar handwriting.

"Out with Lo'ak and Tsireya for dinner," the note reads. "Be back late. Left leftovers in the fridge for you."

Neteyam lets out a soft sigh, a mixture of relief and disappointment flooding through him. Part of him had hoped to have the opportunity to talk to Ao'nung tonight, but he knows that it's probably for the best that he has some time to gather his thoughts.He heads to the kitchen and pulls open the fridge, retrieving the container of leftovers.

As he heats up the food in the microwave, his mind drifts back to the conversation with Kaey earlier. The weight of guilt and uncertainty still lingers, but it feels more manageable now, somehow.

Once the food is warmed through, Neteyam plates it up and carries it to the dining table. He wonders why Ao'nung left a note instead messaging him, then realises that his phone was in airplane mode all along. 

He sighs.

 That explains it. 

He pokes at his food for a moment before deciding to turn on the TV. He doesn't really pay attention to it, but he's tired of listening to music and wants some kind of background noise. 

That night, he falls asleep early, before anyone comes home. He's turned his alarms all off, grateful that he doesn't have anywhere to be in the morning. 

His dreams are filled with floating mountains and rainforests. 

Notes:

Now all we have to worry about is Ao'nung's reaction

Chapter 107: Lindt Lemon and Ginger Chocolate

Summary:

Omg if my mother doesn't stop whining about me wasting my "precious" years on my major istg

Notes:

giggling bc my roommate who i never talk to came up to me all flustered to ask if i have any concealer bc she had a hickey skksksks

---

"Do you ever feel like life is passing you by?" Neteyam asks, jaw set. "And there's nothing you can do to stop it from leaving you behind?"

Kiri frowns. She sits beside Neteyam on the sofa. Scratching her eyebrow with a painted nail, she bites the inside of her cheek. "What do you mean?"

"Something happened," Neteyam utters, lips dry and a little cracked.

Kiri's frown deepens, lines of worry peeking from beneath her bangs. She pushes them aside and swallows. Something about Neteyam's tone sends chills down her spine and she feels almost scared to ask what happened, expecting the worst. Finally, she whispers. "What happened?"

"I don't know if I ever mentioned Jason," Neteyam says, pulling his knees up to his chest. "but a while ago I went up to his place and we drank and he randomly kissed me even though I'm sure he knows about Ao'nung."

Caught off guard, Kiri gasps, mouth hanging open. "He what?"

Neteyam nods and speaks glumly. "He kissed me. We spoke about it after that he shouldn't have but a few days ago I ran into him and he was pissed that I don't want to keep in touch."

"Damn," Kiri breathes out. She blinks before shaking her head, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs. "This is straight out of a badly written fanfiction."

"You tell me," Neteyam grunts. He pokes at the chocolate beside them. Lindt. Lemon flavoured dark chocolate with a hint of ginger. It's a little spicy on his tongue. "But in those people always root for the second guy. I can't stand him though."

"Well, me either," Kiri huffs, crossing her arms. She wiggles her toes and inspects her socks. They're white with a cat-face pattern on them. "You want me to bring you a drink?"

Neteyam snorts, shaking his head. "It's the middle of the day."

"So?" Kiri quirks a brow. "This calls for a drink and a whole lot of shit-talking."

At this, Neteyam huffs out an amused laugh. "Fine."

Kiri stands and hurries to the kitchen, mind reeling. Neteyam doesn't visit her often, so she had already suspected that something had happened that upset him, but she didn't expect something like this. 

"You know what sucks?" Neteyam mutters, appearing in the kitchen behind her.

"Jesus-" Kiri startles, twirling to face him; he smiles sheepishly at her and she rolls her eyes playfully, turning to the fridge to grab two Le Coq Mojitos. "What?"

"I think if I was a girl and this happened then everyone would blame me," he muses. "You know, what were you wearing, why did you drink. That stuff."

"Well, you're right." Kiri hands him a drink. "But it's pointless to be upset at something that didn't happen."

Neteyam hums, clinking glasses with her. "I guess you're right."

"So, is this the reason you've been so off the past few weeks?" Kiri asks after a while. "Lo'ak told me you got into a fight, too."

Neteyam flushes. He scratches the back of his head and shrugs. "I guess so."

Kiri raises a brow.

"He was bothering me-" Neteyam protests. "I told him to stop."

"He's just worried about you," Kiri replies swiftly, stepping closer and poking at his shoulder. "And nothing was helping so he was getting fed up with feeling so helpless."

Defeated, Neteyam heaves a sigh, a little warm between the ears from the mojito. "I get that."

"And you know," Kiri continues, face hardening a bit. "Lo'ak was only pretending to be okay with you suddenly smoking with Tommy."

Neteyam's brows furrowed. "Like he doesn't do it-"

Kiri waves him off. "That's not it. It's that you don't smoke. We were worried that you were going down the wrong path."

Neteyam's expression softens as Kiri's words sink in. He takes a sip of his drink, the refreshing taste of mint and lime momentarily distracting him from the weight of the conversation.

"I didn't realize..." Neteyam trails off, his thoughts drifting to the recent events that have left him feeling adrift and disconnected from those closest to him. "I guess I've just been trying to figure things out, you know?"

Kiri nods sympathetically, her gaze softening as she reaches out to place a comforting hand on Neteyam's arm. "We all have our moments of uncertainty. But you don't have to go through it alone, Neteyam. We're here for you."

Neteyam offers a small smile, touched by Kiri's gesture of support. "Thanks, Kiri. I appreciate it."

"Anytime," Kiri replies warmly, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze before releasing it. "And if you ever need to talk or just want someone to hang out with, you know where to find me."

Neteyam nods gratefully, the weight of the world feeling a little lighter with Kiri's words of encouragement. For the first time in weeks, he feels a glimmer of hope flickering within him, a reminder that he is not alone in his struggles.

As Neteyam reflects on Kiri's words and the support she offers, he realizes the importance of leaning on his friends during times of uncertainty. With a newfound sense of gratitude, he begins to open up about his feelings and experiences, sharing the burden he's been carrying alone for far too long.

With each passing moment, Neteyam feels a little lighter, a little more hopeful about the future. He knows that there will still be obstacles to overcome and moments of doubt to navigate, but with his friends by his side, he feels confident that he can face whatever comes his way.

 

---

 

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, Neteyam finds himself wandering through the quiet streets of his neighborhood. He passes by familiar little shops, sees the same old man walk his same old little dog that he sees at least once a week and feels like he belongs somewhere.

The cool evening air brushes against his skin, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers. It's a peaceful moment, one that offers a welcome respite from the chaos of his thoughts.

The weight of his worries still lingers, but it no longer feels insurmountable. He's come to realize that sometimes the best way to confront uncertainty is to simply let go and trust in the journey. 

And he's beginning to hope; Kaey and Kiri had been undestranding. So why wouldn't anyone else be?

Closing his eyes, Neteyam takes a deep breath, allowing himself to be fully present in this moment of tranquility. He lets go of the weight of his worries, releasing them into the evening air like a balloon drifting into the sky.

 In this moment, all that matters is the gentle rhythm of his breath and the feeling of groundedness beneath him and the colour on his nails, a reminder that he still is who he was before grief took over him.

He feels tears in his eyes that he refuses to let fall; even though these tears are for once not tears of pain.

Lost in his thoughts, Neteyam finds himself drawn to the park at the edge of town. The soft glow of lampposts illuminates the pathway, casting long shadows on the ground. He follows the winding trail, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet night.

This isn't the same park he so often visits with his friends, but he's seen it once in a while when on the bus home.

The sun fully sets beyond concrete jungles as he heads into the greenery. 

Neteyam finds a secluded bench beneath a sprawling oak tree. He settles onto the weathered wood, his gaze drifting up to the canopy above. The leaves rustle softly in the breeze, a soothing melody that lulls him into a sense of peace.

As he sits beneath the stars, Neteyam makes a silent vow to embrace each moment as it comes, to find joy in the simple pleasures of life, and to never lose sight of the beauty that surrounds him. 

He doesn't linger for a long time, only spending a few minutes of solitude in the park before he stands and begins to head home. The streets are quiet now, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, and Neteyam feels a sense of calm wash over him as he walks. 

He feels a bit like himself; he feels like the guy he used to be. It brings a smile to his face.

He's still the Neteyam who likes to travel, who paints his nails and doesn't care if people find him too feminine, because that's not a bad thing.

As he approaches his apartment building, Neteyam takes a moment to pause and look up at the night sky. The stars twinkle overhead, a reminder of the vastness of the universe and the endless possibilities that lie ahead.

He still has the lighter Tommy gave him; it's not someone else's. it doesn't belong to a different Neteyam. Sure, it belongs to a very hurt and lost version of himself, but that version of him is still him all the same. 

It may be a gift, he muses, but it reminds him of pain and so he sets it down carefully, with love somehow, on a bench he walks by. Someone might find it and it might bring them joy in a way it cannot being joy to Neteyam himself.

Neteyam climbs the steps to his apartment, feeling lighter than he has in weeks. As he unlocks the door and steps inside, he is greeted by the familiar warmth of home.

There's no use longing for the time Ao'nung had still lived in the dorms, or when he stilled lived at home with his mother and father and little Tuk. 

Times change and that's alright.

He heads to the kitchen, where Lo'ak is busy putting the finishing touches on a meal. Tsireya is by her side.

"Hey," Lo'ak greets him with a smile. "How was your day?"

Neteyam returns the smile, feeling grateful for the presence of his friend. "It was good," he replies honestly. "I had a lot on my mind, but I think I'm starting to figure things out."

Lo'ak nods understandingly, setting down the spatula and turning to face Neteyam fully. "I'm glad to hear that. You know I'm always here if you need to talk, right?"

Neteyam nods, feeling a swell of gratitude for the unwavering support of his friend. "Yeah, I know. Thanks, Lo'ak."

And as he drifts off to sleep that night, surrounded by the warmth and love of his friends, and Ao'nung's arms around him, Neteyam knows that no matter what challenges may come his way, he will face them with courage and determination, guided by the strength he has found within himself and the unwavering support of those who love him.

 

Chapter 108: A/N

Bonjour.

Hi. 

안녕하세요.

Unfortunately this is not an update to the story itself, however the things that happened in my life are beyond anything I could ever manage to come up with. And, well, I've written a few hundred thousand words.

I'll start with the fact that I have spent the morning choking on my tears, then spent the commute to uni choking on my tears on the tram, and then, also sat through an exam and two classes choking on said tears. They have, however dried up as we reach the lovely hour of 8 pm at the end of April.

Let us begin.

I might have mentioned that I started dating someone in my dorm who spent months from November 2023 til February 2024 pining after me and even waiting patiently for me to break up with my then boyfriend, the small Korean dude. Let's call him B, as he's since lost code name priviliges. Well, our man lasted one month before he decided that he doesn't want anything serious from me and I am free to have a Hoe Phase. His words. Apparently, meeting his family, most of his friends, and attending his graduation ceremony were in fact not... that important. Supposedly, I was too playful for him and he didn't want to change me, because he doesn't see it as his right. Fair point. I've moved past this and tried out my hand in the Dune fandom for a bit to give Golden-Eyed Golden Child a break while I come up with major plot points.

Well, that didn't happen. My 2019 high school crush reached out that he likes me, he doesn't want anything serious, but he wouldn't mind experiencing the beauties of life with me. CoughFuckingCough. Nothing happened out of that, but it still really opened up silly little hurts from when I really liked the dude and he ignored me after showing interest.

Anyway, someone else in the dorm messaged me randomly, a guy. Shocking. Let's call him J, short for Jesus, because that's what he looks like. We had really cute conversations, but he's established that as he's in law school and in  a band AND has a friend with benefits, he's nothing for anything serious. I decided that's fair, me either. Everything was nice with J except for his FWB girl getting jealous. She isn't really that important to the story, I hardly know her. Since B and I decided to stay friends after breaking up (Spoiler: big mistake) I decided to tell him about J and ask if he knows anything about the girl. B told me she's in love with J but they are not together. J has had other side chicks while being her fuck buddy before myself. I told B if this bothers him, he can tell me and I will do something (like not talk about J with B). He said no such thing.

(Sophie if you're reading look away)

So, a few days ago J and I did the do.

(Sophie you can come back)

I told B.

Big mistake number 2.

B hid that he really felt hurt by this. A thing I think is okay to feel, however the man is in the wrong, since he broke up with me and told me to Hoe Around. I wasn't planning to, but J was very nice and it sort of happened. It's okay. Well, B did not think it's okay for J and I to do such a thing since J is in a non-commited relationship with this girl and she is in love with J. So despite J and her having an agreement that they can see other people, apparently J still isn't fxcking allowed to do that.

I respect that, fine, confusing but, fine. So I told B I will talk to J and J can talk to her about it. B wanted to tell her himself. I said don't, wait until I spoke to J. B said okay.

B did not do as he said he would, because be told the girl everything. She exploded on J and now gives me evil stares in the hall and kitchen. I don't really care as she apparently ruined J's previous serious relationship with a girl and only got to fuck buddy level anyway. On top of it all, B felt the need to talk to J and tell him how afwul he was and how much he hurt B's feelings. J decided that he shall now stop talking to me as he doesn't want to hurt any more people's feelings. Fair, I was sad about it for a few hours and then I realised I spent all of a week and a half knowing J before B decided to fuck things up. So, in conclusion, I don't care that J doesn't want to talk anymore, nor that the girl is mad at me, that is her problem as is the fact that she allows J to "use her" instead of having some self-respect and finding someone who actually cares. J even said he cannot see himself actually being together with her in this life, maybe just in another one. Good for them.

These two I'm not mad at or upset in any way.

However, I have never been betrayed by anyone in the way B decided to betray me and have decided to have one last conversation with him (through text, because he left the dorm the very next morning at dawn to visit family after starting shit). During this conversation, B has expressed that I have low emotional intelligence, since I didn't wait until at least summer, to find someone new after HE dumped ME. He also said he did me a favour by portraying me as a victim to the girl by saying that "If anyone else tried to fuck me from the dorm they would have also succeeded since I was in such  a heart broken state over B dumping me". Rough translation, conversation didn't happen in English. B also said he deserves better than having to smile at J in the hall. 

I don't care how he portrays me, I didn't sleep with a guy who is in a relationship, neither was I in a relationship with B at the time, therefore I feel I've done nothing wrong, perhaps a bit morally grey.

I care however, that he decided to lie to me and say he won't talk to her until I've clearing things up with J. And then B still told her and didn't do as he told me he'd do. I am also very upset that he'd tell anyone else that I'd be easy to sleep with since I'm heart broken. If it were true, I'd have met my old classmate too, and agreed to go on a date with this random guy who approached me at uni the otehr day.

B has been told that I will no longer be talking to him so he, as he said, doesn't have to worry about me hurting his feelings anymore. Doesn't matter that he attempted to guilt trip me about this. He's caused me more grief this year than anyone else.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my ted talk. 

Feel free to tell me I'm wrong, B's wrong, whoever is wrong or just whatever you think of this situation.

Also, I have not abandoned this story, nor any other one. I will try to update as soon as life calms back down and I can sit still long enough to produce a couple thousand words for the next chapters. <3

XOXO Txepvi (yes, I've been watching Gossip Girl.)

Chapter 109: Lemon Cola

Summary:

Me when I realise J was a lil bitch all along for pretending that the other girl is just a fuck buddy when apparently she isn't (at least she told me to "not fuck up someone's relationship next time")🤺🤺🤺 Almost said one needs a relationship for that to happen but anyway 🤺🤺🤺
I talked stuff out with B and he seems to see it's weird that she's convinced they're together. J apparently also told her "she's the one" 🤣🤣

Notes:

Also I saw challengers and 🤌🏻🤌🏻
First time was the week all the drama went down and I was dying
Second time and the movie was ✋🏻🍑
New favourite movie 🎬

---

"You look worried," Kiri murmurs, running her hand through Neteyam's hair.

Neteyam sighs, clearing his throat. He has a persistent cough that simply won't go away and he isn't sure why. "I keep hesitating. How am I going to explain to Ao'nung how it happened?"

"What do you mean?" Kiri frowns, tugging Neteyam closer so that his head rests on her thighs. She continues fiddling with his hair, twirling strands around her fingers. "Just tell him you two got drunk and Jason made a move on you. And now you don't talk."

"I don't know if I should," Neteyam replies, voice laced with anxiety. "What if it just puts a permanent rift in our relationship?"

Kiri shrugs. She runs a finger along one of Neteyam's eyebrows; he sniffs. "So don't explain then. The truth doesn't need to be explained."

"Shouldn't he know about it though?" Neteyam asks, brows furrowing. 

"Neteyam, if you think he's going to hate you for this, you are underestimating him, not to mention completely misunderstanding his character."

"What do you mean?" He swallows, jaw tense, head beginning to ache. 

"Ao'nung isn't the kind of person to blame you," Kiri sighs, shaking her head. "Sure, we know he likes being annoyed and jealous, but he's harmless when he does that."

"This isn't the same as him being upset about silly things, like Tsireya's friends and nicknames and all," Neteyam exhales deeply, fiddling with his fingers. "This is more serious than that."

Kiri's fingers in his hair still as she lifts her gaze and looks around the room. She stares out the window at the setting sun and bites her lower lip. "Ao'nung doesn't get angry at people for things that aren't their fault." 

"I think I need to go home," Neteyam whispers out, face pinched in pain, voice tinting with vulnerability. "For the weekend at least."

"You need to escape," Kiri murmurs, nodding along; her eyes drift to Neteyam's engagement ring and the way he runs his fingers over it nervously. "To some place you know, right? Where things feel safe and familiar." 

Neteyam lays a hand over his eyes, holding back a cough. He stares into the darkness his fingers provide and lets out a soft sound. "The weather is turning nicer. I just need to go lie in the sun and forget. I keep replaying it in my head, over and over and it stresses me out. Every time I go out I think I see him but it's just someone who looks similar." 

"Neteyam," Kiri says, cutting him off. She leans above him, peering into his eyes. "What happened isn't your fault. Some guy made a move on you, so what? You don't even have to tell Ao'nung, if you don't want to." 

"But every time I think I'm over it," Neteyam begins, trying to sit, but Kiri pulls him back down. She lays a hand on his forehead, massaging lightly. "It just comes back and I feel like I'm still stuck in that moment. I can't get rid of it. It feels like something that permanently changed me."

"Maybe it did," Kiri agrees quietly. "But that doesn't have to be a bad thing." 

"I thought people at university were nicer and more mature, but it's worse." Neteyam tugs at a loose string on his shirt, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Nobody is supervising them here and they just do what they want."

"I think we're all just trying to figure out who we are," Kiri sighs out, hair tickling her cheek. She pushes it back and scratches the spot. "Some of us are just going about it the wrong way. Like Jason. But he's his own person, Neteyam. You can't control how he behaves."

"I guess," he trails off, sitting up slowly. 

"You can only control how you handle it," Kiri hums, absent minded. She fiddles lightly with the waistband of her skirt. "Sometimes even that is a bit hard. Look, if you feel like this is a life-altering, traumatising even, you could always talk to a professional about it."

Neteyam inhales shakily and stares off to the side, swallowing thickly. "Sometimes, I cannot control it. It's so suffocating to be in a relationship right now, when I don't even know who I am." 

Kiri pauses, eyes pinned to Neteyam's face and a mix of fear and awe. "In a relationship—" she echoes, dumbfounded and unsure if she's understanding Neteyam correctly. 

Neteyam falls silent, realising what he's just admitted. He runs a hand over his face. "I— nevermind." 

Kiri grabs his wrist gently, leaning closer. "No, tell me. It's fine. What do you mean?"

Neteyam flicks his tongue over his lip and bites the inside of his cheek. His throat has suddenly gone dry and it bothers him, heart pounding wildly against his ribs. "I have been thinking."

"Yes?" Kiri tilts her head. 

Their eyes meet and Neteyam clears his throat. "Wanna run to the store with me?"

"Sure." Kiri nods, standing. "Let's go. You can tell me in the way there."

With a heavy heart, Neteyam stands and follows after her, watching her adjust her beaded bracelet and gray her sunglasses from their black, leather case. They're heart shaped, brown. She puts them on her head and adjust her bangs; Neteyam watches, admiring her beauty. For a moment, he wishes her was her, because she's beautiful in a tragic way, and he's not. He's just a tragedy. 

He pulls on his sandals, shaking his head. 

They leave the apartment. 

The sun has set nearly completely, only the last shy golden rays remain dancing along the dust floating in the air. People are still walking around, some with purpose, nearly knocking into everyone else, some just strolling. Some tourists. Neteyam watches them, chewing on the inside of his lips. 

"I recently watched The Picture of Dorian Gray," Kiri says eventually. 

Neteyam sucks in a sharp breath. "Oof. I hated that movie. Didn't get far in the book either."

"Why did you hate it?" Kiri sidesteps an unruly child, frowning. 

"Just overall hated how easy it was to manipulate Dorian," he mumbles with a headshake. "And also hated how gory and sexual it all was. Not my thing, really."

Kiri shrugs. "I expected it to be different too. But I stuck around for the actor. I tried watching the Elvis movie as well, but I stopped in the middle and switched to Moana." 

Neteyam nods, digging out his wallet from his bag as they enter the little, always-open store they go to for snacks. "Do you want anything?" 

"Yeah, probably." Kiri glances around, scanning the shelves for anything she might like. "So, when will you tell me?" 

Neteyam pauses, looking at her from the corner of his eye, slightly unnerved. 

She shrugs nonchalantly at his look. 

"Well," he mumbles, rubbing his arm. "Now?"

Kiri grabs a Lime Pepsi and continues walking. "You don't want to be in a relationship right now?" 

"I don't know if I should be," Neteyam sighs out, looking at all the drink options. "I feel like I just keep changing who I am."

"You have been a little different," kiri admits. They don't stop looking around. "Sometimes I feel like I'm getting to know a new person when I'm with you."

"At least you're getting to know me," Neteyam grumbles bitterly, brows furrowed. "I haven't even been able to let Ao'nung touch me in weeks, it's too unbearable."

Kiri nods, frowning. "Why?" 

Neteyam shoots her a look, to which she rolls her eyes. 

"Right. Jason. I get that, but—" she stops to stand next to him. "That's not because you're in a relationship. That's because he came onto you."

Neteyam pulls yet another face, nose scrunching in distate. "What if I led him on without meaning to?" 

"Neteyam," Kiri huffs. "Come on. I don't think he needs anyone leading him anywhere. He'd probably make a move on a cartoon cutout." 

Neteyam falls silent. His eyes drift over the shelves of different sweets, stomach turning. For a moment, he feels like buying all of it, then, he already feels like he's eaten something bad without even touching any of the packets of gummy bears.

"Don't make any rushed decisions," Kiri warns, hands on her hips. "And don't throw everything away just because some guy you hardly know kissed you. It's not fair on yourself and it's even worse for Ao'nung. He doesn't deserve you doubting him like this." 

"I'm not— I—"

"You think he'll be mad at you," Kiri replies to his nervous stutters. "You are doubting him."

Neteyam huffs. "I think you're being unreasonable." 

"I think the same of you right now," Kiri mutters, rolling her eyes. "I know you're scared. I know Jason was an ass. But you can't tell me you really want to throw everything away because of that one stupid thing he did to you." 

Neteyam cringes, feeling a headache forming. He rubs at his temple. "I'm going yo pay." 

Kiri watches him, face unreadable. She seems a mixture of worried and angry. 

Neteyam doesn't feel like talking anymore.

Notes:

Anyway J's fwb girl doesn't want ppl knowing she excuses J's behaviour and B told me she asked him to not tell people what happened. Which is exactly why I won't be quiet about it lmao
J supposedly did the same when they first started seeing each other with a different girl🤣
At this point if she wants him she can have him🤺🤺🤺
J's a liar and a wuss and I'm sort of glad B told on him
He won't look me in the eye anymore 🤣🤣🤣

Chapter 110: Slow-dancing and Sunshine

Summary:

Took one of my korean finals. (I died)
Let's pray I passed 🤝🏻

Notes:

I convinced some of my friends to mass follow J on insta since his account isn't private. Then I followed him too. 😂🤺
His account is no longer public and he's removed us as well as some other people.
I personally believe it was funny 😂 I did feel guilty about it for a day though. But then I remembered that he is the one who stirred shit so
Gotta love harmless pranks

---

The apartment is empty. 

Except for Neteyam's lingering presence. 

He's packed some things to take home with himself for the weekend — a weekend that he assumes will turn into a week of missed classes. 

Neteyam has been avoiding human contact; he's sure everyone noticed. Tsireya doesn't seem to mind. She sticks his name onto food containers and brings home coffee with various misspellings of his name every few days. In turn, Neteyam puts sweets in her bag when she isn't looking. Lo'ak has been a bit more pesky. He'd wack Neteyam with his plush Tulkun when walking by him, or walk with more force than needed to get Neteyam to look at him. It usually works, but Neteyam cannot go longer than a few minutes before giving up conversation. 

And Ao'nung. 

Ao'nung is the hardest. He plays with Neteyam's hair before they fall asleep, kisses his shoulder, and lets Neteyam's fingers run along the tattoos on his back. He doesn't press. Doesn't try to get answers. He seems comfortable where he is, the way he is. He's worried, but he doesn't try to pry Neteyam's shell open. He accepts that something is going on. He accepts that it may not be something Neteyam's willing to share with him. 

Ao'nung notices that Neteyam has stopped going to the poetry club meetings and events, but he doesn't say anything. He also notices the way Neteyam has reverted back to only their closest friends for company. He doesn't mention the girls Ao'nung can't remember the name of. He's stopped talking about Jason. If Neteyam mentions anyone, it's usually Kiri, sometimes Rotxo or Spider. 

But still, Ao'nung doesn't pry. 

Some days, this annoys Neteyam. Others, he's grateful. 

He wants to find the right moment. The right time. It hasn't come yet. But it will. Neteyam will tell Ao'nung what happened.

He doesn't want to torture everyone with his silence, with how distant he's become. 

Neteyam sighs; he glances around the room and then walks to the window, pulling back the curtain and staring out at the city. Lo'ak is meeting up with Spider, while Tsireya is with her friends. Ao'nung is swimming. Neteyam is at home; this is when poetry club was supposed to be. He's lost interest in it.

Not in poetry. 

He perks up suddenly and walks to his desk. He grabs a piece of paper and sits down, a determined huff leaving his lips. 

He likes poetry. 

He writes this down.

He also likes fruit flavoured alcohol. Not to mention dark chocolate with whole almonds in it. Bubble tea is also a favourite of his, unless it's with tapioca. Neteyam cannot stand tapioca or the milk teas. 

His handwriting is messy as he scribbles down all the things he can suddenly remember about himself. 

Ballet comes next. He misses it sometimes. However, he doesn't miss the blisters. He thinks about archery. And photography, and dancing, and his belly button piercings — he remembers how freaked out he was when his father saw it for the first time. Then he thinks about the state of his Spotify and the fourthousand songs he has liked that are all downloaded, available for offline listening — or the fact that when he makes a new playlist, the number almost reaches a hundred now. He's got ninety-something playlists. He never uses them, but he always makes one for every new month to keep track of what he was listening to. Right now, it's movie soundtracks. 

He inhales, sitting up straight and exhaling. The person he used to be still exists. Who he was is still there, slowly healing. He isn't lost. 

He'll be alright. 

 

---

 

"Hey," Neteyam whispers, walking into the kitchen. 

Ao'nung turns to him, head tilted. He's wearing an apron, probably Tsireya's, and his hands are covered in flour. "Hey." 

"Are you making something?" 

"I'm trying to make KFC chicken wings," Ao'nung replies, a hesitant, silly smile on his face. "It's not working." 

Neteyam feels his face contorting into a smile of his own. "Will you dance with me?" 

Ao'nung's lips part in surprise. He blinks at the hand Neteyam is holding out to him and notices the little speaker the archer has placed on the counter. "Dance?"

"Like we used to," Neteyam whispers, uncaring that Ao'nung's hands will cover his own with flour. It's a small price to pay for a moment of happiness. 

"Any specific song in mind?" Ao'nung asks, lacing their fingers. He tugs Neteyam closer until they are chest to chest.

"I don't know," Neteyam murmurs, eyes drifting to Ao'nung's lips. He swallows and looks away to select a song on his phone. He scrolls for a moment. 

"Whatever song you pick now, I want to play it at the wedding," Ao'nung whispers in his ear. 

"Wow," Neteyam snorts, rolling his eyes playfully. "Totally no pressure." 

Ao'nung chuckles, swaying them slightly despite no music playing yet. "None at all."

Neteyam lays his head on Ao'nung's shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of the other male's neck. Ao'nung holds his waist tighter, crumpling the fabric of Neteyam's shirt. 

"What song did you pick?" 

Neteyam bites the inside of his cheek. "Happiness is Simple."

 

---

 

The sun is strong; Neteyam knows he's going to end up a few shades darker than when he arrived home. He isn't necessarily pale either. For a moment, he forgets his insecurities and wanders out shirtless, just in shorts, hair in a high bun that is sure to give him a headache later. He drags his sunbed with him and settles down on the grass, listening to his mother and Tuk playing.

It's rained the night before, and the grass under him is still moist; it dampens the air, humidity a little stifling for a mere spring day.

Neteyam has a little spray bottle for when his skin feels to hot.

He lies down, head propped up. He fiddles around with a white Nike baseball cap until it stays on his head without slipping down his entire forehead from his bun. As he lies there in nothing but his swimming trunks, a little bee lands on his lower stomach. 

Neteyam tenses, watching it moving around, black-and-yellow bottom moving up and down. It walks around on his skin, hindered by the soft hair along Neteyam's stomach before flying off. Neteyam relaxes.

In that moment, he realises that he too is a part of nature, and nature is a part of him as well. He accepts, at least for now, that he's tall and lanky, that he looks like his mother in a feminine way. He accepts that his hair is wavy, not settling in thight ringlets like his siblings'. He's a little from them, but he realises that they too, are different from each other.

Neytiri dumps water down Tuk's back as they go along watering the flowers in the garden; it earns her a shriek that turns to giggling and then snorting laughter. 

Neteyam watches them, chewing on the inside of his lower lip — Tuk is taller now. She reaches the middle of Neteyam's chest now and her hair has grown to her shoulders. She still does ballet and now she's in the process of convincing Neytiri to let her try rhythmic gymnastics. Neytiri isn't too keen. 

Neteyam has always been fascinated by the sport, but having hobbies as an adult feels a bit like a waste of time. It won't earn him money, so why bother? Despite this, he still finds himself encouraging his friends to stick to their hobbies. Why doesn't the same apply to him?

"You are deep in thought," Neytiri says, standing above him. 

He shields his eyes as he look up at her. "I guess." 

Neytiri kneels down beside him, laying a hand on his knee. "I know you didn't come home only to lie in the sun."

"I didn't." He shifts, sitting up a little.

"Tell me."

Neteyam sighs; her eyes are soft and open. It makes him want to tell her. At the same time, he is reluctant. They are momentarily alone in the garden, as Tuk had run off to change her wet clothes.

"I don't know if I should," he utters finally. "I don't want you to see me differently."

She shifts, leaning some of her weight on the sunbed. "You are my son. I will not see you as anything but."

Birds chirp up ahead, and a bee buzzes by Neteyam's ear, its loudness suddenly fading out. His eyes roam along the flowers and herbs in his mother's garden; he can smell himself a little from lying out in the heat, but it hardly bothers him. Despite the sun along his skin, his hands suddenly feel cold. He sinks down a little, crossing his legs. His bun pushes his cap a little bit down into his eyes. He doesn't mind. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Am I sure of what? That you are my son?" She raises a brow, a playful, yet somehow worried smile on her face. "That will never change."

He sighs again, headache already forming, jaw tense. He tries to relax his facial muscles, but when he does, they all feel so out of place, much like his tongue when he stops pressing it to the root of his mouth. "Someone kissed me. Someone who isn't Ao'nung."

"Did you kiss back?" She asks simply, and Neteyam cannot read her as well as he wishes he could. There's no hint of anger, judgement, nor anything but curiosity in her expression. 

"No," he replies, voice soft and fading at the end of the words. "I didn't."

"You cannot control the actions of others," Neytiri hums. "Only your own."

He nods, brows furrowing. He'd expected a lecture, even if just a few words at least, but Neytiri doesn't seem to have anything else to say.

"I would not worry over such things," Neytiri continues after a moment, sensing that Neteyam has found himself at a loss for words. "It is hard, I know. I imagine you feel guilty. But what someone else does wrong is not your burden to bear."

"Don't you think I brought this upon myself?" Neteyam asks, the words suddenly spilling out. "Isn't some of the blame on me?"

She squints, eyes tracing his features. "Have you done anything to be blamed for?"

"He kissed me—"

"—But did you kiss him?"

"No, I..." He trails off, scratching the back of his neck. 

Neytiri nods, once only, firm. "Did you tell him to kiss you?"

"No." 

"Then why is the blame on you?" 

"Would you still think the same if I wasn't your son?" He croaks out.

"Why would I not think the same?" Neytiri asks. She stands, laying her hands on her hips. "Throughout your life, and throughout your brother's life, when you did something bad or questionable, I did not judge you based on being my son. I judged you based on who you are as a person."

Neteyam listens, silent. He isn't sure he would speak even if he did have something to say.

"If you were at fault, I know certainly you would know. You would not be here, running home during the semester, to ask me if you are to blame." She smooths out her dress with her hands, shaking her head. "You would be quiet about it. As you were quiet about sneaking alcohol to parties with your brother."

He flushes. 

"Your father and I knew," she sighs, shaking her head. He braids twirl in the air, beads clinking. "And we trusted you to keep yourself and your brother safe. We trusted you to attend university away from home, not once doubting that you are smart and not someone who would do bad things. This has not changed, Neteyam."

Neteyam nods, averting his gaze; he isn't sure she's right. He feels a little as though he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to, despite being the one to come clean. 

He doesn't know what to say to her, so he says nothing at all.

Neytiri pats the top of his head. "Think about it. I will be taking Tuk to the beach with Ronal's daughter. If you have time, join us."

Neteyam nods mutely, watching her go back to tending to her plants.

Notes:

Every weekend when I come home my mother feels the need to argue every few minutes. She'll literally get mad that I'm wearing clothes she bought because it somehow makes me a bad person. Smh

Chapter 111: Beanbags, Secrets and Lies

Summary:

Today is the one year anniversary since I dumped my first bf for cheating
wild times fr

Notes:

Might go back to edit some chapters where Jason was present, but it won't change the storyline, I just don't like the writing style

---

Ao'nung plops down next to Kiri in one of the university courtyard beanbags. The birds around them chirp loudly, and a bug buzzes by Ao'nung's ear, barely avoiding colliding into him. 

Kiri startles, brows furrowed and eyes wide as she turns to look at him, iced coffee in hand, journal on her lap. Her pencil lies in the grass next to her, having flown all the way to the unforgiving grounds in her fright.  "Ao'nung?!"

Ao'nung shoots her a silly smile, getting comfortable.
"Hey, how you doin'?" he singsongs.

Kiri lays a hand over her chest, feeling her heart pounding under her fingertips. "What on earth are you doing?"

"I just finished class and saw you lying around here," Ao'nung hums, shrugging. A stronger gust of wind rustles his baby-hairs; he can feel them tickling the back of his neck. "I thought I'd come say hi."

She rolls her eyes, her own bangs standing up in all directions from the breeze. "Hi."

"Hi," he grins, waiting a breath to continue speaking when two birds begin a battle of who can chirp the loudest and the longest. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"You managed to," Kiri sighs out tiredly, shaking her head. "In fact, I nearly spilled this coffee down my shirt."

Ao'nung tilts his head, watching her. "I have something to ask you."

"I'm not telling you what's up with Neteyam."

Ao'nung's mouth falls open. He stammers for a moment before finding his voice. "How did you know I came to ask that?"

Kiri smirks, setting her coffee down and crossing her arms. "It was written all over your face. Besides, you hardly come up to me unless it has something to do with Neteyam. And you also suck at pretending to be casual."

"That's not true-" Ao'nung frowns. He glances around at all the people still mingling on campus before scratching the back of his head. He turns back to Kiri. "Did he tell you?"

Kiri nods, gaze softening. "Yes, he did. He will tell you, so stop trying to pry it out of people."

"Out of people- why, who else knows?" Ao'nung cannot keep his frown from deepening.

Kiri pauses, watching his face before shifting to sit up better. She closes her journal and sets it aside. "I don't think he's told anyone else. We've all just noticed that something is up with him."

Ao'nung feels himself relax, the stinging pain of something he can't quite figure out fading back into a dull ache. "It was kind of hard not to notice."

Kiri nods, running a hand down the side of her face. "I think a nice long summer break will do all of us a favour."

"He's been that way for weeks, Kiri," Ao'nung cuts in, shaking his head. He's stopped looking at her, stuck in his own head. "I don't want to scare him off by bothering him, but I can tell something happened to him. And I don't know why he won't tell me."

Kiri watches Ao'nung still, eyes shining with sympathy; she can tell he's fighting with the complexities of his emotions and the unknown that Neteyam has unintentionally brought into their lives. She knows that the feelings swearling around in his mind must be nothing short of a storm, but she knows it is not her place to share what Neteyam has told her in private, showing her that he trusts her. Kiri cannot bring herself to break that trust, and she doesn't want to either. Still, she wants to be a friend to both.

"While I don't agree with you trying to get information out of me," she begins, running a hand through her hair. "Something happened to Neteyam that scares him. And he's scared of how you will react once he tells you. You just have to keep being patient with him."

Ao'nung falls silent, but he begins fidgeting with his hands. Kiri notes that his skin has darkened from having swimming training out in the open again, under the burning late-spring sun. "Why would he be scared of my reaction?"

"I told him he should not be," Kiri replies. "But if we look at the situation as a whole, and pretend it isn't about you two, then his fears aren't entirely unjustified. I think, at this present moment, he cannot really make the connection that he'll be telling you, not just anyone else who might think differently of him."

"Think differently?" Ao'nung echoes. "What do you mean?"

Kiri huffs, shaking her head. "It's a bit of a morally grey area. Some would judge him, some not. But he's more scared of being judged than realising that we, as his friends, would be on his side."

Ao'nung falls silent, unsure what to make of the conversation. "Okay."

Kiri gives a short nod, eyes not leaving his face. "Really, don't worry about it. He'll tell you. He went home to get mom's advice first."

"Does he want to cancel the wed-"

"Ao'nung," Kiri grabs him by the shoulders, leaning close to his face, rendering him speechless. "Even if you tried guessing, you wouldn't be able to. So stop worrying yourself more and just accept that he's taking time to process something that happened to him that he feels is a trauma."

"Trauma?!"

"Ao'nung, please," Kiri snaps. "Neteyam is scared of being judged. Always has been. Probably always will be. It's who he is, and it's why he's behaving the way he is. Give him time."

"Fine, fine. I'll keep giving him time." Ao'nung pulls away, grabbing his bag. He gets to his feet, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. "But I don't understand why he can't tell me."

Kiri's eyes settle on the bracelets decorating her arm. She fiddles with one, twisting the beads around on it. "You'll understand when he tells you. I promise it will be fine."

 

---

 

"You look tense," Tsireya says softly, laying a hand atop Kiri's shoulder, massaging lightly. 

Kiri hasn't left her spot in the beanbag even an hour after Ao'nung has left. "That might be because I am tense."

"What happened?" Tsireya asks, sitting down beside her where Ao'nung had been.

"I'm more stressed about what's not happening," Kiri explains, shaking her head. "Neteyam told me what happened and why he's acting strange. Ao'nung is getting upset that Neteyam isn't telling him and he came to me to ask about it, but I can't tell him because I don't want to betray Neteyam's trust."

"Neteyam has been weird for a while. I've been worried, too, but I know he'll tell us when he's ready." Tsireya pulls her hair forward over one shoulder, fiddling around with the dark curls to soothe herself. "You know, I noticed he threw away a lot of his stuff a while back. I think it was his way of trying to undo something. Or forget."

Kiri tucks her hair behind her ear before scratching her cheek lightly. Her words are a mere whispered sigh. "Oh my god. Yes, that's probably why he would do that."

"Kiri?" Tsireya begins carefully, laying a hand on Kiri's knee. "I need to know, if it's something really serious. We can't let him completely ruin himself. We'd have to tell someone."

"It's serious, yes, but not something that would... I don't know why he's handling it so bad. I really don't. But it should be fine if we wait for him."

Tsireya nods, looking up at the tall trees that surround the campus. "Alright. We should wait."

"I just have a bad feeling about this," Kiri admits finally. "It feels like waiting too long will cause more problems, but I can't explain it."

"I'm sure we'll understand when Neteyam tells us, if he wants to." Tsireya adjusts her skirt, crossing her legs.

Kiri nods, heaving a tired sigh; Neteyam has been on her mind for days since he's confessed to her. The entire situation has left her restless. She's even had dreams about it before, not just once. "I hope so."

 

---

 

As the days pass, Ao'nung finds himself getting more and more worked up; he doesn't know why, but he feels upset that Kiri found out before he did.

His annoyance, however, disappears for a moment when he walks into the kitchen to find Lo'ak in front of the fridge, raw sausage hanging from his mouth. Ao'nung cannot help doing a double-take, a sense of Deja Vu settling on his shoulders.

"You couldn't even attempt denying that Neteyam is your brother."

Lo'ak pauses, staring dumbly into Ao'nung's face for a moment before talking, mouth full. "What are you talking about?"

"Your brother does that too," Ao'nung says, gesturing to the sausage.

Lo'ak's eyes follow the gesture before he shrugs, grinning. "I know. I've seen him do it before."

"Has he told you when he's coming back?" Ao'nung asks, nudging Lo'ak aside to find himself something to have for dinner.

Lo'ak leans against the counter, eating slowly. Ao'nung shudders at the thought of eating cold sausage. "He's gonna meet grandma this weekend, so probably not until at least Sunday night. I don't know though, I didn't ask."

"Okay."

"Why?"

"I was just asking."

"You're asking weird." Lo'ak tilts his head.

Ao'nung shoots him a look. "No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were," Lo'ak replies, insisting. "Your voice was doing the thing when you're trying to sound causal but it doesn't work."

"That's not a thing!" Ao'nung gapes, startling when the fridge starts beeping from the door being left open too long.

"You can keep denying it, but I've heard it before. So, why are you asking me instead of Neteyam himself?"

"It's no big deal, really." Ao'nung turns back to the fridge, locating some smoked salmon and a salad. "I just wanted to know."

Lo'ak eyes him for a moment before shrugging and leaving the kitchen to return to his studies, having an exam in just a few days.

Ao'nung rolls his eyes, setting the food aside; he feels like the walls of the apartment are trying to suffocate him, so he wanders to his room, throws on some jeans and a T-shirt before heading out, telling Lo'ak he'll be back in a bit.

He's stressed out by school, an upcoming swimming competition that his coach relies on him to win, and Neteyam.

Mostly Neteyam. 

Ao'nung finds himself at the nearby park; it's late enough that there's only a few people there, mostly just people passing through. He remembers being invited to a wedding, and all the times they'd all hang out here, either with snacks and a blanket, or just on the grass. 

Under the reddening sky, he sits down on a bench, and recognises a one-legged pigeon he sees often when passing through on his way to class.

"Ao'nung, hi," a voice calls from somewhere behind him, making him turn, surprised. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Ao'nung stands, curious. "Jason, hi. How are you doing?"

Jason grins, coming to stand in front of the other male. "We just finished a meeting at the poetry club. Kaey mentioned Metcayina traditions in one of his works today and said that there are a few other students here with the same background. I assumed he meant you and your sister."

Ao'nung blinks, taking in his words. "Yeah, maybe. But I've seen some others around, too."

"Maybe," Jason agrees, shrugging. He adjust his bag on his shoulder. "What about you, how are you? You look stressed."

Ao'nung snorts, scratching his collarbone. "It shows that much?"

"I mean, it is exam season." Jason shuffles his feet, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Anyone would be stressed."

"Yeah, it's not really that, though." Ao'nung decides to be honest. "It's Neteyam. Something has been bothering him for a while now and it's making me worried."

"Oh," Jason breathes out. He hesitates for a moment, before smiling sheepishly. "So he hasn't told you?"

Ao'nung pauses, watching Jason's face. "Told me what?"

"Oh boy," Jason inhales deeply, shaking his head. He rubs his hands together nervously. "So he hasn't told you about it."

"About what?" Ao'nung insists. "He's told you?"

"No, not really," Jason replies, biting the inside of his cheek. "I was there."

Ao'nung wants to keep asking, but he knows Kiri didn't approve of him trying to get information out of her; still, Jason was there, so it would be different. Jason watches him, eyes raking over Ao'nung's entire form; Ao'nugn doesn't seem to notice, staring elsewhere in thought, fighting himself on what to do.

"You two are engaged, right?" Jason asks carefully after a moment, head tilting, voice softened.

Ao'nung's gaze returns to Jason's face. His brows furrow. "Yes, why?"

Jason sucks in a sharp breath. "Uh, that is-"

"What?" Ao'nung presses, jaw tensing. "I thought you already knew."

Jason nods. "I wasn't sure if it was you or Kaey. I think I must have gotten you two mixed up. Sorry, dude."

Ao'nung sighs, rubbing his forehead. "What does us being engaged have to do with anyhting?"

"I don't think it's my place to tell, really. You should ask Neteyam." Jason pats Ao'nung's upper arm, making the swimmer twitch and tense up. "Although, it has been a while. It seems like he doesn't want you to know."

"He's told Kiri," Ao'nung huffs, taking a step back.

Jason pauses, as if thinking deeply, face scrunched in confusion. "Why would he tell her something like this, but not you? He's engaged to you, not her. And it's been weeks since it happened."

"Since it-" Ao'nung cuts himself off, patience wearing thin. "What happened, Jason?"

Jason offers an apologetic smile. "He kissed me."

Notes:

Put yo hands in the air if u hate Jason

Chapter 112: I'll Be My Own Enemy

Summary:

Ik i've been awful with my updates lately but they failed me in my main subject again by literally 0.38% and when I asked if we could check my exams again to see if maybe we can find the missing less than one point, 3 teachers ganged up on me to find MORE mistakes to deduce more points, and 1 other teacher who failed me last year, kept side eyeing me satisfied that I didn't pass :))

I had to email a different teacher to give me a failing grade rather than 'mark me as absent' on my exam so I don't lose my scholarship too because I couldn't get myself to take the exam after being ghosted by the other students who I tried to get notes from because I had 2 classes clash so I couldn't show up :DDD

Notes:

A guy who I thought I was befriending asked if there's chance for more than friendship (I don't see him as anything but a friend) and now I have quite literally no idea what to do about him because I liked chatting with him
ALSO T.T My period was 20 days late again, yay endometriosis, I was absolutely neutered by it too
fun times

I have been bedrotting day and night for a solid month now aside from showing up the the occasional exam and getting boba with a friend, so i've been going through shit lmaoo

---

Ao'nung stands in front of Jason, brows furrowed, silent. His mind reels, a thousand explanations running through his head, and yet no thought could compare to the way his gut aches, as though he'd been punched. Life feels like a movie, or a badly written teen show - and yet, this isn't a movie. There's no plot to follow; life throws things his way and Ao'nung just has to navigate it somehow.

At his silence, Jason offers a sheepish shrug and an uncomfortable smile. "I thought you knew."

For a moment longer, Ao'nung doesn't say anything, before exhaling slowly and relaxing his shoulders. "Well, now I do. It's getting late, so I should go."

He wants to ask; he feels like people know. People who aren't him. Like Kiri; and something about that hurts, because Neteyam is supposed to trust him before anyone else. He thinks Jason might be lying, he wants to believe it, that there was no kiss, ever, or anything, but something tells him to believe.

Before Jason can say anything else, Ao'nung sidesteps him and leaves the park, heading to the nearest exist, which doesn't happen to be the one in the direction of the apartment he shares with the others. He can hear Jason let out a surprised noise, but still, Ao'nung doesn't turn back to see what the other male is doing.

He only slows down when he's a few streets away; he's gone to the wrong way, but who cares. He needs a moment, or perhaps a few moments to figure out why his life feels like it's falling apart. Is it? 

There has to be an answer, an explanation to this, but he doesn't know how to find it. Or if he will. He wants to call Neteyam and demand answers- but no. He wants to wait and let Neteyam come to him. Will he? He hasn't for a while; Ao'nung knows something has been bothering him. He thinks, absently thumbing at his shirt button, that this was perhaps what was making Neteyam act to different. 

It would make sense.

Would it?

Ao'nung cannot fathom anything that could be reason enough for Neteyam to kiss someone else.

But he had, and something about that feels a bit like the world ending.

 

---

 

"Come on, Tuk, don't fall behind," Neteyam calls out, turning back, beach-bags in hand, or hanging off his shoulders.

Tuk, kneeling in the sand, looks up, grinning, hands full of shells and sand. "I'm coming!"

Neteyam sighs, sharing an amused look with Neytiri, who, arms linked with Mo'at, is a little ways ahead of them both.

"I want to stay longer!" Tuk calls out, catching up to Neteyam, knees covered in sand, her skin still wet from leaving the water mere minutes ago.

"Well, we can't," Neteyam replies, shaking his head. He nearly drops a floatie, stumbling when his bare foot encounters a sharp rock. "It's going to rain and it's late."

Tuk juts out her lower lip, coming over to put her new shells in one of the bags hanging from Neteyam's arms, earning an eyeroll and a huff from the eldest Sully child. "I don't care. I like the rain!"

"Can't you carry that yourself?" Neteyam mutters with a faked eyeroll of annoyance. He pretends to be crumbling under the weight of all that he's carrying.

Tuk giggles at him, calming down and falling into a comfortable rhythm with him. Mo'at as a little further ahead, not paying them much attention; she'd spend the entire time at the beach looking for any unique plants she could take home to work with while Neteyam entertained Tuk. It was so much like when they were smaller. Only then, Lo'ak and Kiri had been there as well, sometimes even Spider and their parents; it hurts a little, to think about his father, so Neteyam tries not to.

He shakes off the goosebumps and adjust one of the bags. 

"Can't you stay home forever?" Tuk asks after a while; she'd grown taller this year, but of course, she's still small compared to Neteyam. "I miss when you came home every day after school."

Neteyam, too, misses those days. They were much more simple than whatever his life has become since. "I'll be home after exams."

"It's not the same," Tuk sighs, shaking her head. "It's like you're here, but you're also kind of somewhere else at the same time. Like you're looking at me, but not really seeing that I'm right here."

Neteyam stops walking, caught so off guard his lungs empty of air, and his eyes burn for a moment before he blinks it away. Tuk is entirely too young to be saying such things, he thinks, then realises with a heavy heart, how much his little sister has also been forced to grow up since Jake passed.

"I know you're right here," he whispers in a weak attempt to reassure her.

He knows it doesn't work when Tuk's determined eyes meet his. She too had stopped walking. Neither of them notice the rapidly approaching clouds. She raises a hand to his chest, tapping in the middle gently. "But your heart doesn't know I'm here."

"That's not..." He trails off, glancing at their grandmother, who had sensed the mood between them.

Mo'at keeps her distance, letting them have their moment without her there. She takes shelter under some trees, deciding to examine the plants she's collected.

"I miss you," Tuk stammers out, brows furrowing. Her lower lip trembles; she shakes her head, composing herself. She's become good at that; fighting away her tears had become somewhat of a skill. She'd had countless moments like these in class, sitting quietly, doing work when suddenly she remembered her dad and how she'd never see him again.

"I'm here," Neteyam murmures, bags pulling at his shoulders. "You know that I am. For you, always."

"But you aren't, and I miss you," she replies, insisting. She even stomps her foot a little. "What happened? Why are you always sad now?"

Neteyam feels absolutely gutted; his head feels too full, aching. He cannot possibly tell her about Jason, she's too young to know of such drama. And he certainly cannot tell her how lost he feels, like he'll never find his role in this world. He inhales shakily, nose tingling with unshead tears. He drops one of the bags and raises a hand to his mouth, ready to bite at his thumbnail, but thinking better of it before he even opens his mouth. Neteyam sratches his cheek instead. His throat is thight, and he waits a moment before talking.

"I'm just tired, it's okay," he says finally, and he can tell, once again, that his words don't soothe his sister.

She's growing up, he realises. Her mind won't be so simple and pure for much longer and she too will soon realise how overcomplicated life is as an adult.  It'll only be a few years and she'll be able to see that Neteyam isn't someone who is perfect, the ideal older brother.

No, he's deeply flawed and he doesn't want her to know.

"But even tired people aren't as sad as you," Tuk says. "Mum is tired sometimes, too, but the way you're tired is different."

"Mother is strong," Neteyam explains gently. A raindrop lands on his forehead. "She's stronger than me."

Tuk frowns, kicking at the sand. She wraps her arms around herself. She's nearing her teens, and she's full of new, complex feelings. She believes with her whole heart that she can understand Neteyam, that she can help. 
"You're strong too, you know. You always put bandaids on my knees when I fall or help me with my homework when mum is busy with work!"

Neteyam sighs silently through his nose; he'd also carried her around when she was a baby. He doesn't know what to tell her. He swallows thickly and takes a long, shaky breath. "I wish I was stronger, Tuktuk."

Tuk stares up at him, tears in her eyes, lips pursed. "You're the strongest person I know."

Neteyam isn't so sure he can believe that.

 

---

 

Later that night, he sits in his old room, windows open, listening to Way down We Go, wondering when he'd changed so much that even his baby sister noticed. 

He feels stupid in his clothes and he longs to be who he was in high school. Near perfect grades, never a failed class, and now he's here, unsure if he's worth a thing. What will he work? Where will he live and how often will he come home to visit his family? 

His head aches, and somehow the little bit of hope he'd felt vanishes in a heartbeat until he cannot see past the despair clawing at his heart, squeezing until he feels ready to fall to his knees, to give up. Just give up.

He wants to give up.

When he closes his eyes, he can no longer see a happy, sucessful version of himself like he used to when he first started university. Back then, he could daydream with his headphones on, walking around his room, pretending to be smart, and full of life, confident, with all these new friends he thought he'd make as he completed his major. Now, when he listen to music and closes his eyes, night falls. 

Neteyam feels stupid in his clothes. He feels like a broken record, spinning in circles around himself with no way to stop feeling like the world is ending. Like he was born to die.

And he realises he doesn't want to achieve anything great. He doesn't want to become someone people look at with eyes full of awe and admiration, as he thought he would one day. He doesn't want to be the hero of anyone's story, nor be the leader of any company, or be famous, or known at all. But when he doesn't want to be all these amazing things, he doesn't know who he wants to be.

He doesn't even want to finish school; he might as well, now that he's come so far, but he doesn't feel better just because he's double majored in things that don't even interest him anymore.

He doesn't want to be special.

He isn't special.

Not like he used to be.

He's not the person who he used to be.

He's not becoming who he wanted to be.

His soul is ready to be buried.  If he were to be given back to the earth today, he finds himself not being scared or sad or like he hasn't had enough time, because what does he need time for?

Neteyam sits there by the window, numb. His hair tickles his cheeks as it falls into his face, tangled by the light breeze sneaking in. He's never felt so alone in a house so full of people. He wants to cry, but there are no tears left to cry. He feels raw, like lemondrops on fresh wounds, yet all at the same time he's scabbed over, throat closed and voicecords turned to stone.

Somehow, he feels like laughing, but no sound comes out.

There's nothing left for him to do, nothing at all in this world that could ever have meaning. It's almost as if he's not real. Like somewhere in the mutliverse he's already dead. There's nothing left of him but the memory that he once existed, that he once was happy, some years ago, in the far away past, before he let it all fall apart and he doesn't even know why.

He lifts his gaze to the ceiling and heaves a burdened sigh. 

There's nothing left to do but tell Ao'nung what happened. And however he'll react, Neteyam will have no choice but to accept.

It doesn't even scare him anymore.

 

Notes:

Live Love Tuk

Chapter 113: Born to Die

Summary:

Two updates? What demon hath possessed my soul?
Probably the angst demon

---

There's something strange about sitting on the bus, going back to the city where he attends university. The excitement he felt in his first year is long gone, in it's place, something heavy lingers.

Neteyam steps inside the apartment, backpack on one shoulder. His sandals are white, as is his tank-top. Loose, orange trousers low on his hips. He's dressed like he came straight from 2010.

Ao'nung's home. Neteyam can see him sitting on the sofa as he takes of his sandals. Ao'nung is tense, it makes Neteyam's brows furrow. He sets his backpack down and steps into the living room, nervous. 

"Are you okay?"

Ao'nung is weak, so weak when it comes to self-control and taming his temper. "I don't know. Am I?"

Neteyam's breath hitches. "What happened?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Ao'nung tilts his head, crossing his arms.

Neteyam stands in front of him like a scolded child. He tugs down his tanktop and pushes his braids behind his shoulders in a weak attempt to distract himself from the way his heart drops all the way down into his stomach.

He tries to understand; does Ao'nung know? Maybe he saw Neteyam's grades drop? But why would Ao'nung be angry about that? He's not Jake. Did Neteyam spend too much time at home, and maybe that hurt Ao'nung's feelings. Did he not call enough? Is it the weird cigarettes he had with Tommy?

"I-" he stands there, jaw tense and arms covered in goosebumps. "Don't know."

"You don't?" Ao'nung asks in a tone that makes Neteyam feel like he's done something wrong. "So you aren't going to tell me on your own even when I give you a chance?"

Neteyam can feel panic crawling up his throat; his vision goes blurry but not from tears, from stress. He feels light-headed and there's a weird pressure behind his eyelids. His right hand is numb and when he lifts it to his eyes to rub at them, the skin is cold and it feels like it's not even his own hand.

"I don't understand."

Ao'nung's eyes linger on Neteyam's ring. "Then how could I?"

Lo'ak and Tsireya aren't home.

Neteyam doesn't understand what chance he's being given. 

"Ao'nung what are you talking about?" Neteyam asks, a plea slipping into his voice. He hasn't felt this fragile in a long time. Perhaps not ever. He needs to sit down but he doesn't find the strenght to walk to the sofa and sit down beside Ao'nung.

Ao'nung, who was his safe space, who is not making him feel like he's choking and needs to run away.

Ao'nung, his safe space. 

Ao'nung, who cooks more often than Neteyam and packs him food to take to classes when he has a long day. Ao'nung, who collects all the songs Neteyam shows him in a Spotify playlist.  Ao'nung, who is absolutely terrified of moths. The Ao'nung who Neteyam sleeps pressing his butt against if they have their backs turned to each other.

The same  Ao'nung who has a hard time waking up in the morning and always has to rush to get ready is scaring Neteyam so much right now that he loses his voice and stands there like a child caught red-handed. 

It feels like years before Ao'nung replies, voice soft and yet angry and hurt all the same; his eyes look tired, like he hasn't slept for the last few days. "Why can't you say it yourself?"

Neteyam has never felt so alone on a Friday night.

And, Neteyam realises, he has been caught red-handed. He's done things as of late that he isn't proud of. But Kiri said Ao'nung would understand; Ao'nung doesn't look like he does.

Ao'nung's world ends the longer Neteyam stays silent, standing in front of him with such a beautiful yet tragic face; the face of somoene who was born to die. 

But the world cannot be ending right now, Ao'nung thinks in a panic. Neteyam will explain, there is no way he won't. But if he'll explain, why isn't he saying a single thing?

Neteyam doesn't like this game. 

His face hardens. "I have nothing to say."
And he doesn't. Not as long as Ao'nung is acting like this, not while he's interrogating him as though Neteyam was a criminal.

Ao'nung expected a lot of things, even a fight. He didn't expect Neteyam to look at him so hurt and confused, as if he was looking at a stranger. He really didn't expect this. Isn't he the one who is supposed to be upset?

Neteyam waits a breath longer, and when Ao'nung fails to say anything, he sighs and shakes his head. His shoulders relax and his face rsoftens until Ao'nung cannot read a single feeling written onto his features except that Neteyam is the most beautiful person he's ever looked at.

Ao'nung doesn't know how he's managed to hurt the single most precious person in his life, but he did and there's no taking back the harsh tone he'd used. But, gosh, he's in so much pain. He feels so shut out; everyone knew before he did. He's sure they knew.
Kiri at least.

Silence has a price.

Ao'nung's silence perhaps a higher price than others.

Sometimes love is not enough; Neteyam turns on his heals, grabs his sandals by the door, doesn't even put them on (like that one time he ran from home, right into Ao'nung's arms) before yanking the door open and storming down the hall. On the stairs, he runs into Tsireya and Lo'ak, who perk up at seeing him, greeting him happily only to be pushed aside as he runs, runs blindly and not knowing where.

"Neteyam-" Tsireya calls, clutching Lo'ak's arm. "Neteyam, where are you going?"

"Bro!"

He's out the front gate before he knows it and disappears, ignoring the bewildered looks people throw his way for being shoeless. It's alright, it's a Friday evening. People probably think he's drunk. And perhaps they have the right idea.

Why does the world have to end?

Oh, how he hates himself.

Neteyam turns a corner without looking, mind hazy.

"Hey, be careful-"

"Jason?" Neteyam blinks, caught off guard, caught by Jason by his arms, steadied by the other male's grip. Neteyam pulls away roughly, nose scrunching in a sneer. He doesn't say anything, turning to walk away.

"How'd Ao'nung take it?" Jason calls after him, looking all to proud of himself.

Neteyam stops walking, frozen. He faces Jason, disbelief on his face. "What?"

"Our kiss," he smirks, sauntering closer. "Was it enough for him to dump you?"

"Why would you want that?" Neteyam frowns, stepping back.

"Well, if I can't have you, why should he?" Jason grins and Neteyam feels nauseous.

The archer inhales, trying to keep his cool, however little he has left of it. "Why should you get to have me, Jason?"

Jason shrugs. "You're unique. Why shouldn't I want that? You could have told him, you know, but you chose not to. That's on you. He was always going to find out, sooner or later."

"Find out what?" Neteyam spits. "That you kissed me? I don't control what other people do, Jason. I don't know what twisted version you told him-"

"Honey, what I told him hardly matters," Jason whispers, stepping close. He places a hand under Neteyam's chin and tilts his head up. "You and I were born to die."

"You're not making any sense, you little-"

"Careful," he tuts, shaking his head. "I'd be careful. Who knows what kind of photo I might end up sending to your precious lover."

"Photo?" Neteyam echoes, pulling back.

Jason lets his hand fall back down. "Oh, you didn't even notice? You should be careful with how much you drink."

"Delete it," Neteyam snaps, still holding his sandals in one hand, feeling stupid and exposed barefoot in the street. "I don't care what stupid photo you have of me, if you don't delete it-"

"You'll what?" Jason grins, tilting his head. "Yell at me and then go cry to Ao'nung? I don't think he trusts you very much right now."

Slowly, the sun sets. Neteyam really does feel like he was born to die.

"I don't need him to trust me to knock your teeth out," Neteyam smiles, serenity washing over him.

"Feisty," Jason chuckles, shaking his head. "Too bad you're just a little poet."

"Too bad I was taught how to fight," Neteyam replies easily, stepping closer. "Oh, and look, there are no camera here, so choose. Should I break your nose or your phone?"

"Careful," Jason replies, something unreadable in his eyes. He's very different from the man Neteyam met all those months ago. "You don't know what you're walking into."

Chills run down his spine; Neteyam's never met this version of himself, and he doesn't find himself all too scared to dig deeper. He's but a shadow of the ghost he was before.

And if Neteyam hates arguing in public, it doesn't show. The street they're on is dimly lit, nobody else is there but the two of them.

"I know exactly what I'm walking into, Dreamcatcher," Neteyam hisses out.

Jason grabs his wrist and that's enough to set him off.

"Let go."

"You remember my nickname," Jason says instead, satisfied. His grip tightens on Neteyam's arm slightly and he steps close until they're almost nose to nose. "How sweet of you. What else did you memorise about me?"

Neteyam yanks his hand away and in the same moment, slams his knuckles into Jason's nose.

"Neteyam! Oh, shit."

Jason stumbles back as Neteyam turns around, eyes wide, hand aching. He's met with Lo'ak, Tsireya and Ao'nung looking at him, equally wide eyed but for an all different reason than Neteyam himself.

Neteyam's gaze lingers on Ao'nung's face. The surfer is stunned into silence.

Jason scoffs, gingerly holding his bleeding nose. "Would you look at that. Who would have thought you'd be violent."

Neteyam inhales sharply and turns back to the tan male, shaking his head in disbelief. "Delete the photo, Jason."

He can hear Tsireya murmuring, confused about the photo, but Ao'nung shushes her. "What's going on?"

"Yeah, bro," Lo'ak breathes out, brows pinched. "Let's just go home."

"Oh, I don't think he wants to, sorry." Jason pulls out his phone, blood smeared on his face. "Our little golden boy isn't so golden after all."

Neteyam feels his world crumble as Jason holds up his phone, showing a photo of them kissing; it's so obviously them. Neteyam cannot grab it fast enough, everyone's already seen it. Still, he grabs the phone, yanking it out of Jason's hand, who, depsite his protests, cannot stop Neteyam from doing so.

"I swear, if you don't leave right now," Neteyam warns. 

"Bro, what the fuck is going on-"

Jason holds his hand out. "Give it back."

Neteyam doesn't budge, gripping the phone until his knuckles turn white. Just for once in his life, he's grateful for the influence his family has, because if he was just anyone else, he couldn't do this; but he can, and so he does. He deletes the photo, permanently so and smashes the phone into the ground, ignoring Jason's protests. 

Whatever trouble he'll get into because of this, Neytiri will get him out.

There's silence for a moment, before Neteyam, for good measure, wacks Jason in the face with his sandals and turns to walk away. "Stay the fuck out of my life."

He knows he'll regret acting this way in the morning, but he's so so tired of the life he's found himself living, that he doens't care if the only way out is a violent one.

"Wouldn't want to be part of something so miserable anyway."

Neteyam twirls back around, but before he could cause anymore bodily harm to Jason, Lo'ak grabs his arms, both of them, tugging him back. Neteyam had not noticed his brother coming over to him at all, too blinded by rage and pain.

"You should leave," Tsireya says, voice icey as she stares Jason down. "I think you've done enough here."

Jason, for a moment, stares at her, caught off guard.

"You heard her," Ao'nung says with, warning.

Jason rolls his eyes. He picks up his shattered phone and shakes his head, turning his back and walking away. "Well, if you think Neteyam's still worth it after all this."

"He's worth more than you'll ever be worth," Lo'ak deadpans, tugging his brother away back in the direction of their apartment.

 

---

 

"Alright," Lo'ak says, guiding Neteyam to sit on the sofa as Tsireya fusses around them. "Can you tell me what just happened?"

Neteyam grumbles under his breath, noticing that his foot is bleeding from walking barefoot in the city. He chooses to ignore it for the time being. 

Ao'nung lingers in the doorway, looking unsure and out of place.

"He kissed me when we got drunk and took a photo," Neteyam mumbles, shaking his head. He rubs at his eyes roughly with his hand, bruising knuckles on display. "Now he's determined to ruin my life with it."

Lo'ak's face scrunches in digust. "What a creep."

"He could go to the police because you punched him, Neteyam," Tsireya says, sitting down by his side, holding a mug of tea, looking restless. "You can't just punch people."

Neteyam takes the mug when she offers it to him, sighing into it. He can kind of see his reflexion in the golden liquid.

"He deserved it," Lo'ak replies, knuckles pale from how hard he's glenching his hands. 

Tsireya sighs, but doesn't argue, because deep down, as much as she hates violence, she also thinks Jason deserved it. "He's the reason you've been so upset, isn't he?"

"If someone did this to Tsireya, I'd find a way to send him to jail," Lo'ak grumbles, crossing his arms. He plops down beside Neteyam, still shaking his head.

Ao'nung is still just standing there.

"How did you even run into him?" Lo'ak asks.

Neteyam scoffs. "I keep running into the bastard. He doesn't even live here."

"Ugh, creepy." Lo'ak rolls his eyes. "Is your hand okay?"

"Oh, yeah, it's fine. Nothing compared to training."

Ah, Ao'nung thinks, yeah. Neteyam is a military brat. He's been taught to fight. It feels like getting to know him all over again.

"I can't believe someone would do something like this," Tsireya sighs out, tired. She tugs on her skirt and leans back crossing her legs. "I was worried when Kiri mentioned she knew what happened, but I didn't think it was something like this. It's almost like he was trying to blackmail you."

"He's an obsessive creep and I don't really care what he was trying to do," Neteyam sniffs, turning his nose up. "He's been making my life absolutely miserable all because he's playing some weird game about how nobody should have me if he can't."

"This is the kind of stuff they put in movies," Lo'ak snorts. "And not the good kind."

"Oh, Ao'nung, will you stop standing there and just come sit down already-" Tsireya snaps, the events testing her patience.

Ao'nung, unnerved by her outburst, obeys easily. He can't quite get himself to look Neteyam in the eyes. Neteyam doesn't try to look at him.

Neteyam shakes his head, exhausted. "I think I'm just going to go to bed."

"Alright, bro," Lo'ak says and pats Neteyam's shoulder. "Do you need anything?"

Neteyam cracks a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "My sanity back."

Chapter 114: Gilded Lily

---

"Penny for your thoughts?" Kiri asks, tapping Neteyam's nose.

Neteyam startles, nearly knocking over his coffee. The chatter in the coffee shop drowns out his surprised yelp. "Sweet Jesus-"

"Wouldn't know, never tasted him."

Neteyam snorts in amusement. "Would be rather unethical."

"Yes, quite a bit," Kiri agrees, pretending to be entirely serious. "Two pennies?"

"We don't use that currency," Neteyam points out.

Kiri cackles. "Oh, Eywa. You're so impossible. Still, tell me what's got you glaring at your cup and why your hand is bruised."

"Ao'nung knows about Jason."

"Oh," Kiri straightens up in her seat, adjusting her napkin. "How did he take it?"

"I wouldn't know," Neteyam says with a shrug. "We haven't quite discussed it since I punched Jason in the nose and smashes his phone."

"You did what?" Kiri gapes, eyes comically wide.

"I smashed his phone."

"What on earth for?" Kiri yelps. "Neteyam!"

"Turns out he took a picture of the kiss and was planning something with it, so I took matters into my own hands. And yes, I know, punching people is bad and I could get into trouble, but just this once I'll let mum get me out of it."

Kiri blinks into her coffee for a moment, nodding slowly. "Right. I didn't expect punchy Neteyam to make a comeback."

Neteyam cannot resist a laugh. "Dad is probably rolling in his grave."

"Nah," Kiri huffs out, half laughing. She tucks her hair behind her ears, shaking her head. "I think he'd go and punch Jason himself."

"Oh, I don't know."

"Mum would maul him, just saying. Both of ours."

Neteyam poked at his coffee with the little spoon provided and shakes his head, amused. "It doesn't really matter. I haven't had a conversation with Ao'nung in two days."

"Your hand's been bruised for two days?" Kiri deadpans. "How hard did you punch the man?"

"Well, hard."

"And Ao'nung won't talk to you?"

"It's mutual," Neteyam offers, half-joking. "We won't talk to each other. I've found Jason has decided to tell him that I iniciated the kiss and I'm not quite in the mood to forgive Ao'nung for believing that slimy little bastard."

Kiri nods thoughtfully, she glances about, thinking. "I guess I can see where he's coming from. But you two have to talk about it!"

"I know-" Neteyam whines. "I just can't figure out how to start this conversation."

"Well, you're upset Ao'nung would believe him instead of coming to you. You could start with that." Kiri offers.

Neteyam buries his face in his hands and groans.

 

---

 

Even with exam season choking him, Neteyam still finds time to worry about other things. Other things as in Ao'nung.

If they were sims, they'd surely have the festering grudge sentiment right about now.

There is something gorgeous in the way the world falls apart and yet stays exactly the same as it was before.

The beauty of the entire universe crumbling. Life falls apart and someone people will never notice a single moment of it.

There might always be an irreversible ache in his chest, one that chokes him, and leaves him gasping for air. He'll always long for what he had in the past, not noticing all he has in the present. How could things be any different, when hindsight had always been his closest friend.

In hindsight, Neteyam knows. He knows he shouldn't have gotten drunk that night when he'd slept with Ao'nung for the first time, and yet at the time of the event, he'd known nothing at all.
Neteyam should have been grateful to have tutored the old lady in German once, months ago, before she died. But back then it had been nothing but something that took up his time and caused him anxiety. Now, he'll never see her again.

What hurts the most is how He'll never ever get to see his father again. He'll never be scolded again, and Jake will never place the weight of the world on his shoulders again.

Nobody will ever expect him to have perfect grades, a job, double major, and just overall be perfect. Nobody will push him to thrive.

Neteyam wipes at his cheeks, noticing the little wet streaks rushing down his skin.

He'll never be who he was two years ago, back when he went to parties with his silly little ciders, when he'd witness Lo'ak fall into bushes and make a fool of himself. He'll never be the Neteyam who woke up with Ao'nung, hungover, in Tonowari's car. In fact, Neteyam hadn't seen much of Tonowari at all since Jake died. And that hurts somehow. It hurts so unbelievably, so unbearably, that Neteyam truly thinks he'll never heal from this.

This. The passing of time.

Neteyam realises he's still grieving.
His soul refuses to let him get married because his father won't be there. Jake won't ever be there.

Neteyam will never be his son again.

He chokes on a sob, trying to stay silent. The others are in the living room. His nose is clogged, and he can't barely keep his voice down. He sniffles, but it doesn't help.

So he lies down and pulls the covers up to his nose, hugging himself.

In the silence, he lets the world crumble. He inhales the beauty of it, eyes heavy and cheeks shining with moisture.

He's not the Neteyam he wants to be. Neteyam, in university, is not the Neteyam that his high-school self was working on becoming.

And his high-school self had been so precious, he realises, and doesn't understand how he ever could have hated that version of himself.

As he lies on his back, tears cascading down until even his neck is wet, he cannot help but wonder if this is how it's always going to be.

High-school Neteyam had been insecure about being a mixed kid who only had wavy hair while his siblings got strong, beautiful curls.
University Neteyam is insecure about his failed course and his lack of desire to make it big. In high school he wanted to be everything, and now, he slowly finds himself becoming nothing.

The door creeps open.

Neteyam closes his eyes, face turned away.

Ao'nung hesitates for a moment, then, without turning on the light, he makes obvious effort to not wake Neteyam as he changes his clothes and gets ready for bed.

Even that feels like the world ending.

Neteyam doesn't open his eyes, doesn't show any sign of being awake.

Not yet.

Not until Ao'nung settles down beside him, breathing softly, the light of his phone tinting the dark room a gentle blue as he sets his alarm. Ao'nung still wakes up every morning.

Neteyam has pimples on his back from always lying in bed.

Once Ao'nung sets his phone down, and the tears have stopped, Neteyam rubs roughly at his eyes and sniffles. Ao'nung tenses beside him. Neteyam inhales deeply, the familiar feeling of his eyes filling with tears comforting him. This time, they don't fall. He turns so he's facing Ao'nung and opens his eyes. He can only somewhat see in the dark.

At his third sniff, Ao'nung realises what's happening.
"Tey?" He whispers carefully, like the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Neteyam's skin erupts in goosebumps.  He cannot help sniffling again, nose still blocked. He says nothing.

"You're..." Ao'nung trails off, hand in the air as he lies on his side, facing Neteyam, hesitating. "Why?"

Neteyam exhales, heavy. He rubs at his eyes again and finds relief in the fact that his eyelashes are dry this time.

Ao'nung doesn't end up touching Neteyam's cheek like he'd wanted to.

"We should sleep," Neteyam says, words a little slurred, voice obviously tinted with tears.

Ao'nung whispers his name again, but he doesn't press, doesn't try to keep Neteyam from turning his back. He doesn't stop Neteyam from closing his eyes, trying to will sleep to find him.

Ao'nung could never.  He'll never find it in himself to make Neteyam do something he doesn't want to. And Neteyam is hurt, he realises, Neteyam is hurt because Ao'nung had hurt him in his haste of refusing to listen, to talk.

Neteyam hugs himself, since Nobody else will.

A single bird chirps outside their window despite the dead of night.

It should be comforting, little sounds that being peace. Neteyam loves the world, and nature always heals his soul. Nature makes him realise he's part of a universe in which his small, and meaningless, and everything, in the end, will always turn out fine.

Not this time.

This time, he doesn't feel like he belongs in this universe, because the world he's in is crumbling.

And that's so much bigger than him.

Neteyam has to breathe through his mouth as he fights to fall asleep in between the teardrops he cries.

Ao'nung gazes at his back for a while until he realizes, it's not worth it to fight. And he vows to never ever be the reason Neteyam cries again.

Neteyam thought he'd feel better in the morning, but the lingering dread of the world crashing down doesn't fade. It feels like someone breathing down his back.

And, he'd had a weird dream where he was Aragorn, but he could turn into a cat or a mouse depending on what he wanted, and he was running around in the snow, trying to show some secret lover how fun it is to roll around in it.

He shudders.

Why can't he have normal dreams?

Ao'nung is not in bed. It's closer to ten than it is to nine by now, and the taller male appears to be showering. Neteyam doesn't really know why, because Ao'nung has a swim team meet up today. Perhaps they won't swim? And just discuss ways to improve? Neteyam sighs, trying to convince physics to merge with his bedsheets. 

Once he hears Ao'nung leave, Neteyam gets up. He sits in bed for a while, silent, mind shifting between being blank and so full of thought.

Then, he's sitting in front of the mirror, staring at himself, at the way his hair frames his face. He's wearing a watch, he fell asleep in it. He lifts it to his face to see if it suits him. He fiddles with his hair, parts it in the middle, then to the right. He tucks it behind his ears before letting it hang in front of his face.

As he stares at himself, he sees someone he doesn't know.

He's got bags under his eyes, his lips curl down, and his face looks thinner than usual. Had he lost weight? He hadn't had an appetite lately.

He tries to smile, tries to look happy. He does look a little cute, he thinks to himself, his smile falling. He looks like an ageless being. He's young, but he can't recognise his face. He could be 17 or 27.

He feels closer to 70 in the moment; his body weighs him down, heavy with weariness that seeps into his bones and curls like vice around his gut.

The summer heat is rising, and slowly, it suffocates him.

Neteyam collects his hair into a bun and clips it into place with a singular large black claw clip. Slowly, he shuffles to the closet, opening the door and staring inside. So many things in there and they don't seem to match. He settles on linen trousers and a tight, grey T-shirt with the Hogwarts logo on it. He chooses silver rings and his watch with a white band. Two silver necklaces later, he goes back to the mirror to stare at himself.

The shower turns off.

Neteyam smears dark brown eyeliner on his waterline and a little above his top lashes. It looks neet and almost like it isn't there.

Ao'nung shuffles into the room, shirtless. "Morning."

Neteyam tenses, biting the inside of his cheek. He turns to face Ao'nung, hands hanging limp by his side. "Morning."

Ao'nung shuffles his feet, hesitant. "I'm sorry."

Winded, Neteyam gapes at him. "What?"

"For getting upset and not talking about it," Ao'nung replies, voice soft and low. He looks earnest. "I should have given you a chance to explain."

"What if," Neteyam begins before he can stop himself. "You won't like the explanation anyway."

"I won't know until I hear it, really," Ao'nung shrugs.  He looks casual, tugging on a simple with T-shirt and collecting his hair into its usual high bun. On the inside, he's trembling. "I have to go soon."

Neteyam nods. "Okay."

Ao'nung grabs his bag and walks to the door, where he lingers, back to Neteyam before glancing back at him. "We'll be okay."

Neteyam nods again, lips shut tight lest he's to say anything else damning.

"Bye, Tey."

"Bye, Nung," Neteyam sighs out, watching him leave.

Something heavy settles on him, something pale and white, like falling silk in summer winds.

Chapter 115: The Guilt of Being Alive

Summary:

Did ya'll know you can also access ao3 as archiveofourown.gay cause not just .org

---

Ao'nung returns home later that evening, hair damp, smelling a bit like chorine. He unlocks the door, rubbing at his eyes and rolling his shoulders, tired. He steps inside, toeing his shoes off and putting his bag down.

Neteyam gets up from the sofa and wonders over, hair down, having heard him, looking soft and careful (and really, Ao'nung has to resist swooning). "Hi."

"Hi, Tey," Ao'nung says, offering a reassuring smile. He presses a light kiss to the corner of Neteyam's mouth, determined to keep a level head for the conversation they're bound to have. "Where's everyone else?"

"Date night," Neteyam hums, unconsciously leaning in.

Ao'nung furrows his brows. "Have they always gone on so many dates?"

"Not really," Neteyam says, giving a little shrug. He fiddles with the hem of his T-shirt. "Must be the summer."

Ao'nung merely hums. He lays a hand against Neteyam's shoulder and steps past him, walking to the bathroom.

Neteyam turns to gaze after him, feeling a little misplaced. He would really like to move to a different apartment once the lease is up. One with a balcony. Or a fireplace. One he'd never use, but he likes the way they look.
For a few minutes, Neteyam just stands there, wringing his hands. Then, he goes back to the living room area and sits down on the sofa, straight-backed. He smooths down his trousers and rubs his feet together.

Ao'nung returns, appearing as casual as can be. "Are you hungry?"

Neteyam shakes his head.

"I'm going to eat something real quick," Ao'nung announces anyway, and strolls into the kitchen. He's nervous, stalling a bit because he isn't sure he wants to know the truth.

When Neteyam doesn't follow him, Ao'nung stands there and sighs, dropping his shoulders. He thinks about what Jason said and the way he said it, a frown creeping onto his face. There's pressure behind his forehead, a growing headache.

He's going to believe Neteyam, whatever he says. He's already decided. Surely, Neteyam wouldn't be so... broken? Is Neteyam broken, Ao'nung wonders, heart sinking a little into oceans he cannot navigate. Neteyam wouldn't be so broken, surely, if Jason was saying the truth. He might have kept it a secret — and who is Ao'nung to judge. They've all played countless kissing games, being as unserious as they are. Jason could just be taunting him with something like this.

Ao'nung doesn't know why Jason would do something like that, but he'd never tried to understand people beyond his family and closest friends.

His phone begins buzzing; Ao'nung startles.

It's a call from his mother. He sighs again; he likes having calls with her, but he's lost in thoughts and wants to focus on Neteyam.

With a shake of his head, he calls out to Neteyam that his mother is calling and closes the kitchen door softly when he hears Neteyam's quiet acknowledgment.

"Hello?"

"Ao'nung," Ronal begins, and it's clear Ao'nung's youngest sibling is fussing in the background. "How are you, my son?"

"I'm alright," he murmurs. "Any reason you're calling?"

Ronal seems to shuffle about, saying a few Na'vi words to someone, before her attention is back on Ao'nung. "I thought I'd have a second to talk calmly with you, but it seems your father and sister have very interesting timing. "
"We can talk later," Ao'nung offers.

"No," she cuts in, and Ao'nung can imagine her wave her hand dismissively. "I'm going to the bathroom, I've decided. For some peace and quiet and conversation with my son."

"Alright," he says, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"How are you?" Ronal asks.

"Uh," he hesitates. "We're going through a bit of a rough patch with Neteyam."

Ronal, on the other hand, doesn't hesitate. "Apologise."

"Excuse me?" Ao'nung gapes, mouth hanging open. "I didn't do anything-"

On the other end of the line, Ronal lets out a quiet, amused sound. 

Ao'nung feels himself getting a bit offended, despite her laugh not being mocking in anyway. 

"I know how you get, my son," she says simply. "You're easy to rile up and you are jealous by nature."

"Mama-" he protests. "You don't even know what happened!"

"I have spoken with Neytiri," she replies. "I do know what happened."

"You know?" He gasps, feathers ruffled. "Am I the last one to find out?"

Ronal's voice softens, and if Ao'nung could see her, he'd see the way a somber expression settles on her elegant features. "It is not up to us to decide who Neteyam chooses to confide in, Ao'nung. You're someone he feels he could hurt with this, that is why he hasn't gone to you first."

"But-"

"Ao'nung," Ronal says, tone warning. "Neteyam has been deeply hurt by someone he trusted. Do not be difficult."

Ao'nung frowns, shoulders tensing. "I'm not being difficult! He kissed someone else, mama!"

Ronal is silent for a second. "Is that what he's told you?"

Ao'nung pauses, opening his mouth but not saying anything for a tense moment. "Well, we haven't exactly spoken about it."

The silence is loud.

"Ma?"

"Are you assuming things?" She asks with a heavy sigh. "How do you know of the kiss if Neteyam's yet to talk to you about it?"

"I ran into the other guy," Ao'nung explains.

Ronal exhales deeply. "Ao'nung."

"We were going to talk about it today!"

"That is not what is important right now," Ronal says. "Why are you letting strangers make you doubt Neteyam?"

"Well, I-" he trails off, realising he has nothing to say. "I don't know."

"I know it is a tough situation, but you must understand, that though it may be hard, all the signs are there." Ronal seems to move around, and Ao'nung can hear a door closing. "Neytiri has been worried about Neteyam. He has not been himself in a while. Even Tuktirey has noticed, is what I've been told. They're worried for Neteyam, as am I."

"I'm worried for him too, ma," Ao'nung insists, heart clenching.

Ronal sighs. "Then make sure he knows this, Ao'nung."

"I've been trying!" He protests, feeling hurt by her words.

"I know, my love, I know you've been trying, but Neteyam is much more sensitive than he allows anyone to see. Even you. Losing his father has been hard, but what he's experienced with a friend he thought he could trust has hit him perhaps even harder," she murmurs, voice soft. "Death is inevitable, and I reckon he knows that. Neytiri tells me that betrayal to him is much more hard to handle. He tends to blame himself, and he's doing it now, too."

"Mama, I don't know how else to help," he admits, shoulders slumping. "I tried not to pester him into telling me, but it's like we've hardly spoken in weeks."

Ronal doesn't say anything for a moment. "There is nothing you can do but be understanding. Neytiri isn't sure Neteyam is ready to move on from this. That will take time, and that time will be hard for both of you until he finds himself again."

"He always looks so lost," Ao'nung whispers, fingers tightening around his throat. "It scares me."

"I know," Ronal sighs out. Her fingers tangle in her hair as she runs them through the dark locks. She's still the bathroom, having left Tonowari to tend to their youngest child. She'd called to help Ao'nung, but she isn't quite sure herself that she can. 

Ao'nung had always had big feelings, even as a child. Tsireya too; what Ronal sees in Neteyam is beyond anything she can safely say she can handle. He doesn't know the oldest Sully child well enough to interfere. All she knows is that he's slowly losing himself, and even his own mother is unsure how to guide him through this.

"Remind him of who he is," she says eventually. "Remind him of all he's achieved. I do not want you to lose him."

"I don't want to lose him!" Ao'nung cuts in heatedly. 

They're silent for a few long minutes, neither having anything left to say. 

Ronal doesn't feel as accomplished, isn't sure if she's said the right things, or that she really understands what's happening inside Neteyam's mind. She remembers still the boy who ran from home, shoeless, to her home because it had felt safe enough.  Neteyam isn't running to that home anymore. Though she knows it's because Ao'nung isn't there either, something about it fills her with sorrow deeper than anything else.

To her, it seems that Neteyam has nowhere to run from the terrors in his life. Ao'nung doesn't seem to be his safe space. Jake isn't here to support him, and Neytiri doesn't seem to be enough for Neteyam. Mo'at's calm presence had done little to help Neteyam.

Ronal isn't sure, that once Neteyam had told his side of the story to Ao'nung, the eldest Sully will be able to calm the storm in his own mind and begin his journey back to himself. She knows he will certainly spiral if Ao'nung reacts negatively.

And Ronal isn't heartless when it comes to her son. She doesn't think Ao'nung is unreasonable for being upset, for believing other people when they say Neteyam has done something wrong. She too had been skeptical at first until Neytiri had shared how Neteyam has been behaving recently. Like his smiles never quite reach his eyes and something about him is hollow.

"I know you feel hurt by this," she mutters eventually. "It is alright to have these feelings. But do not react out of anger or hurt. Not right now. Not with Neteyam. I fear he would not be able to handle it."

"Ma-" Ao'nung makes a pained noise. Fear claws at his chest. "Not handle it?"

Ronal's nod is unseen through the call. "I, unfortunately, have never seen someone so deeply hurt by something not quite that... harmful."

"Not harmful?" Ao'nung repeats. "What? That some guy kissed him?"

"You may not understand what I mean, but similar has happened with your father and I, and neither of us have quite reacted as strongly as Neteyam is. It did not cause us to spiral so strongly. It worries me because I cannot give you the right advice other than to be there for him."

"I-" he breathes out, feeling punched in the gut. "Okay. I'll be there. I'll try."

"Alright, my son," Ronal exhales, relaxing. "Take a moment to calm yourself. Wash your face and drink some water. It is best if you speak with Neteyam today."

"Okay." Agreeing comes easily.

"One thing is important," she adds. "Do not go to bed angry at each other. Don't let the hurt of today cloud your tomorrow."

"Okay, ma." He doesn't quite understand her, but he agrees non-the-less. "I'll talk to you later."

"Good, I'll be waiting," she says, and Ao'nung can hear the smile in her voice. "And don't forget to visit home sometime."

Ao'nung thinks he'll bring Neteyam home with him. Hopefully sometime soon. Once the call ends, he stands there in the kitchen for a while, staring off into space before he moves, like a robot, to fill a glass with water as his mother had advised.

There's a soft knock on the kitchen door before it opens and Neteyam peeks inside, looking small and unsure. "I made pancakes."

"Oh?" Ao'nung breathes out, numb and not really having any strenght for much else.

Carefully, Neteyam steps inside. "They're not the american kind, but if you'd like some-"

"That would be nice."

Neteyam pauses, watching Ao'nung's face, before nodding slowly. "Are you- Are you alright?"

"I don't think so," Ao'nung admits, head tilting as he watches Neteyam avert his eyes and shuffle his bare feet.

 He can't stand the distance between them; he walks right up to Neteyam and cups his cheeks, tilting the other male's face up until they're staring into each other's eyes. His eyes lower, closing halfway as he gently touches their foreheads together. His thumbs caress Neteyam's cheeks.

The archers hand, hesitant, come to rest on Ao'nung's upper arms before slipping up to his shoulders. He steps closer and tucks himself against Ao'nung's chest, head lowering until his face is buries in Ao'nung's neck. Neteyam hugs him with one arm, the other resting simply on the same shoulder that his head is buried by.

Ao'nung's arms come to circle around Neteyam's torso, hands spread out flat against the warmth of his back.

"I'm sorry," Neteyam whispers, lips moving against Ao'nung's throat, voice muffled. "I didn't mean for it to happen with Jason."

"Can you explain to me," Ao'nung sighs into Neteyam's hair, resting his chin on top of the shorter male's head. "What actually happened."

Neteyam nods against his skin. "I- I was feeling lost, so I started going to this poetry club thing and I met him and his friends. I never noticed that he might want to do anything like that."

If Neteyam had to describe those few weeks of his life when he regularly attended the club's meetings, he'd use the word grey. Dark, dreadful and eerie. Something about it never felt quite right. He had felt welcome there, but there was always something lingering that he ignored. Perhaps because the weather had been clearly un-summerlike, but everything had felt dull.

"But one day I was hanging out with him and we were drinking something and he just kissed me out of- out of nowhere."

Ao'nung's arms tighten around him. "I see."

"I can't remember what happened after," Neteyam admits. "I think I might have come home or- or something. I ran into him on campus at some point and we argued."

"Okay," Ao'nung says more to himself than to Neteyam.

"I recently punched him as you know," Neteyam mumbles sheepishly. 

A startled laugh escaped Ao'nung. "Yeah, you did a good job with that one."

"But violence isn't the answer-"

"Maybe sometimes it is," Ao'nung suggests. "Just a little."

Neteyam chuckles, shaking his head.

Ao'nung waits a breath, lifting his head; Neteyam follows his example, pale brown eyes peeking into Ao'nung's startling blue ones.

Neteyam can feel the question.

Ao'nung voices it. "Jason initiated it?"

"Yeah," Neteyam agrees softly. "Yes, he did."

"I'm sorry." Ao'nung wraps him in a tighter embrace, burying his face in Neteyam's hair. It tickles his nose and breathing is a bit harder, but he doesn't care. "Is that why you threw out all your makeup?"

"You noticed?" Neteyam stammers, pulling away only to be pulled back in, Ao'nung's hand on the back of his head. He doesn't resist, resting his cheek against the swimmer's chest.

Ao'nung always notices. Even if people don't notice that he does.
"Yeah. But then you got new ones."

"A little, yes." Neteyam snuggles against him. He rather adores moments like these in the kitchen. Even if his pancakes are forgotten. "I feel kind of stupid about it. I think I was overrreacting."

"Don't judge your past self for having feelings," Ao'nung chides gently. He isn't quite sure where he's going with this, but he just wants to talk. "Feelings that were appropriate at the time. You know time makes things seem a lot less hard."

Neteyam thinks for a second, nodding against Ao'nung's chest. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I tend to be."

"And very humble."

"My middle name."

"Ah," Neteyam huffs out, amused. "Of course."

 

Notes:

Not me trying to make the characters give each other advice as if id actually know what to do

Chapter 116: Damnation

---

"So you two spoke?" Kiri asks, sitting down in front of Neteyam on the patio of a small café. "How did it go?"

"Okay I guess?" Neteyam replies, carefully setting his drink down before taking a seat himself. "I mean, we didn't fight."

"I didn't think you would," Kiri hums, adjusting her skirt and tearing the wrapper off her straw. "So, all is well now?"

"I don't think so," Neteyam hums. "We still need to talk about it. I only just told him what actually happened and nothing about how it affected us."

Kiri nods, crossing her legs. "Good. After that, please do get married. I'm itching for a wedding."

"What-" Neteyam laughs, shaking his head. "You- Ask Lo'ak, he'd be very happy to have his wedding with Tsireya right now."

"They still haven't... You know?" Kiri raises a brow.

Neteyam shakes his head. "Not that I know of."

"I admire the dedication, honestly," Kiri laughs fondly.

Neteyam feels a little uneasy. "You do?"

"Well," she begins, hands reaching for her glass. She stirs her drink with her straw, the ice clinking against the glass. "I certainly never had the idea that I'd wait for marriage."

Neteyam did, a while ago. Clearly, that didn't end up happening. He flushes, remembering how dramatic he had been. Not that he still isn't embarrassed about getting so drunk that he literally cannot remember most of what happened.

"Uh-" he says instead, a little dumbly. "How does it work for you anyway? With Rotxo and Spider."

Kiri stares at him for a moment before mischief twinkles in her eyes. "You want the details, saint Neteyam? I did not think I'd see the day."

Neteyam stammers, hiding his embarrassment behind his drink. He takes a few very long, very slow sips. "No?"

She tilts her head.

He flushes. "Oh, alright. Yes. I'm curious. I just can't imagine."

"I sure hope you haven't been trying to imagine it," she snorts, shaking her head.

He flushes further, panicking and knocking his spoon right out of his drink. He curses under his breath in Na'vi and dabs at the spills with his napkin, trying to ignore Kiri's entertained cackling. "I have not!"

Kiri covers her mouth, giggling. "Good. Hey, your phone keeps going off."

Neteyam blinks, having completely missed the vibrations in his blushing. He stares at his phone, scanadlised for a moment as it lies on the table. He can't remember having put it there, but oh well. He unlocks the device as Kiri sips on her drink, watching the people passing by.

"What the fuck-"

She startles, turning her attention back to Neteyam. "Everything okay?"
She frowns, noticing the way his face falls.

Silently, he holds his phone up, one hand covering his face, shoulders curled in.

Kiri's heart drops to her stomach. She cannot find the words to say anything, but her face says it all, pinched in anguish and sympathy.

Neteyam lowers his phone, screen down onto the table and doesn't remove his hand from his face.

Kiri purses her lips, watching him silently for a moment.

"Why would he do this?" Neteyam utters, voice barely louder than a whisper.

She fiddles with her fingers, jaw set. "He's sick in the head."

"What are people going to say?" He breathes out, lowering his hand from his face. "This is insane."

"I didn't even know our uni had a gossip page, if I'm being honest." 

Neteyam nods. "Well, they tagged me."

"Did they tag Jason?" She asks.

"No." Neteyam reaches for him phone, but thinks better of it.

Kiri bites her lower lip, glancing around. "Well, people won't know when the picture was taken."

"They specified in the description that I'm engaged." 

Kiri gapes, eyes burning. "They did not! Does he run the page or something? This has got to be a crime."

Finally, Neteyam dares to unlock his phone, where the photo Jason had taken of their kiss glares back at him, posted on Instagram for the world to see. Under it, the caption mocks him.

"What does it say?"

Neteyam purses his lips. 

Would you look at that. Romance is blooming within our walls, but it's not quite as sweet as you'd like to think! Our dear student @Neteyamthesuli has been caught kissing someone who isn't quite his fiance. Our sources say mr Suli is the perfect student, but it seems he isn't quite the perfect person he's pretending to be. Wonder what his lover has to say about this.
If you've got any news on the latest univesity scandals, don't hesitate to share it with us!

"I cannot believe this absolute asshole. I'm gonna report it, what's the name of the page?" Kiri squints at the screen when Neteyam shows him. "In fact, I'm going to tell them to take it down."

"I doubt they will."

"I'll threaten to sue them. Look! They hardly ever share anything malicious about anyone else. They post memes about professors and people's pets."

Neteyam heaves a burdened sigh, shaking his head. Just when he'd begun to think that the storm in his world was calming down, a tornado hits.

"This is in the least defamation, if not invasion of privacy!" Kiri hisses out. "I'm gonna call mom and tell her to do something."

"She's a scientist," Neteyam points out. "What could she do?"

"Well, obviously, she knows some lawyers, so if my threats don't work, I'll just actually sue this guy."

"I don't want a lawsuit!" He yelps, snatching the phone out of Kiri's hand. 

Kiri snatches it back. "Well, I can't threaten people without actually being able to follow through. You're tagged in this post, people can easily find it."

"I've already got people checking my latest story that I don't know. I'm just gonna go private, honestly."

She watches him, face not at all hiding how angry she is at the situation.

"What the fuck-" Neteyam hisses. "Someone's sent a screenshot of it into the international relations group chat."

"What?!" She almost shouts, drawing the attention of the couple sitting near them at the other table.

"I don't even talk to any of my classmates there, how do they know who I am?" Neteyam muses.

Kiri pauses. "You think Jason knows some of them?"

Neteyam inhales deeply, closing his eyes. "You can go threaten the page. I can't be bothered to stop you."

"We should get Jason to confess what he's done in text! Even better, get it on video." She begins typing furiously, not taking her eyes off of her phone. "I'm going to comment under the post, too."

"What?" He asks carefully.

Kiri glances at him, determined. "Well, I'm going to tag Jason and expose that he apparently likes getting taken people drunk and kissing them without consent."

"No-" he protests. "Don't do that. People will make excuses for him because I was drinking."

"Eywa, I forgot people do that," Kiri grumbles, shaking her head. "Fine, I'll leave out the drinking part. But, I'm still commenting, don't look at me like that. You're my best friend, I'm obviously going to protect you."

"Thanks," he cracks a smile, tired.

 

Notes:

I was out here googling the law for this lmfao

Chapter 117: Cracked Shell

Summary:

I have nothing to say for myself.
I started writing this august 10th in litertal America and then I vanished. Good news is I'm doing uni and got a dorm room really early so I don't have to commute :D

---

By some sort of miracle, not a soul reacts to Jason's post — not to Neteyam's face at least. He doesn't mind, not even a little bit. It could have gone a lot worse, Neteyam thinks to himself.

Still, he spends most of the following days at home, sulking. He hasn't bothered to look into the legality of what Jason's done. Neteyam is very aware of the connections his family has — but somehow, he feels no anger anymore. Sometimes, when he remembers what happened, an achy fire sizzles to life in his chest. And that's all there is now.

Lo'ak is furious. He'd demanded to be put in the group chat to defend Neteyam's honour.
Tsireya, a gentle pillar of support, offered to ask Tonowari and Ronal for help, but Neteyam had not accepted it.

Sometimes, he feels like he's drowning, then, funnily enough, he remembers that Ao'nung can swim and he imagines himself doing laps, holding his breath.

Now, he sits on the sofa, straight-backed, thinking of the future.

"I might enlist," he says quietly.

Lo'ak stills, whatever game he'd been playing forgotten on his phone, screen flashing with his loss. "What? Why?"

"Well–"
"And where?" The younger Sully boy cuts in, phone now laying forgotten beside him on one of the cushions.

"The navy," Neteyam replies easily, and even though the thought scares him, he'd never been more st ease with any of his ideas for the future.

"Why the navy?" Lo'ak furrows his brows. "Dad was in the marines."

"I'm not dad, now am I?" Neteyam asks, but his words lack bite. They're gentle in a way that makes Lo'ak pause.

"No," he agrees easily. "You're not. But to enlist. Why?"

"To fly."
Lo'ak nods slowly — and he knows there's more to it than just flying. "That's a legacy then."

It's about freedom. And control. Control of his own fate in a way that staying in this town could never allow.

"I see myself flying sometimes," Neteyam mumbles.

Lo'ak nods. "Me too. Not a plane, though. Some big bird."

Neteyam cracks a smile, oddly touched. "And ikran, right? Like in the stories mother and grandmother always used to tell us."

"Just like that," Lo'ak says. "It would be amazing."

Neteyam agrees with a wordless nod. He wonders if that is his reality in some other universe.

"Will you really do it?" Lo'ak asks, voice a breath shy of nervous. He feels like he's looking at his brother for the first time in months.

"I think so," Neteyam nods. "But I'll have to look into it. And anyway, I want to finish school first."

"I'll come, too." Lo'ak laces his fingers and lays his hands in his lap. "I wanna learn to fly, too."

Neteyam cracks a faint smile. "I heard they train you in six months. For cargo, at least."
"You weren't thinking about an actual fighter jet, were you?" Lo'ak frowns.

"I'd fly whatever," Neteyam hums with a small shrug. He hadn't expected Lo'ak to take him seriously. "But fighting wouldn't be my first choice. I want to learn to fly real good and then teach others to do it."

Lo'ak nods, understanding. "You can teach me."

"I can't fly yet," Neteyam points out. "It could be years."

"I'm younger."

"By a year."

Lo'ak sticks his tongue out.

Neteyam rolls his eyes. "You definitely should wait a few years."

"Hey!" Lo'ak gapes.

Neteyam easily dodges the pillow thrown his way with a soft chuckle.

 

---

 

And then the leaves on the trees begin to wither with the passing of time, and summer begins its bright orange slumber.

But classes have yet to start up - usually, they start later. So Neteyam still has some time to do absolutely nothing. Which, if he thinks about it, is not ideal because when he isn't doing anything, he's thinking, and oh, that is not good.

Not good in the least, because then he remembers how out of everyone he knows, he's the only one who genuinely hates what he's studying. Exams give him genuine, pure, tortureous anxiety in ways nothing else can. They terrify him. 

So, to stop his thoughts, he stands in front of the bathroom mirror with a hair-straightener he nicked off Tsireya (he cannot find his own, no matter how hard he looks), fighting with the fluffy nature of his not-so-curly hair. There are plenty of things Neteyam can not accept about himself, and his hair being wavy is one of them. It makes him stand out from the rest of his family. It makes him feel rather outcasted, even if Lo'ak is the one always getting into trouble.

In truth, Neteyam wants to achieve great things, but nothing all at the same time. He wants to become famous for his posts, but at the same time, he wants to not post anything at all. He'd wanted to be a politician at some point, but he did not want to be known. Then, he'd wanted to be a doctor, but the amount of studying needed for that scared him away along with that one teacher who scoffed at him. She had no right, he thinks, she'd only substituted one singular class while his actual biology teacher was ill. High school had been less than fun.

But at the same time, his hands still, high-school, had had genuine structure.

Now, he skips classes and does not really do any after-school activities.

Ao'nung still competes in swimming!

Neteyam sighs, half of his head silky-smooth, the other a regretful poofy mess, since he'd had the brilliant idea to go to bed with his hair wet.

No, he thinks to himself, let's focus on what I'm good at. Why I'm not - worthless? Is he? No, people don't tend to be worthless unless they're the most heinous criminals. Or Jason. Jason is pretty worthless to Neteyam. So worthless that Neteyam has decided not to do a single thing about that photo. Of course, if they ever meet in person, Neteyam will definitely deck him in the jaw, unprompted. Consequences be damned. Well, unless they happen to meet on campus. There, and only there (and right in front of the eyes of the police), Neteyam will keep his violent tendencies to himself.

Well now he got distracted and forgot to think about what he's good at.

The straightener touches his neck and zaps him back to reality with a startled yelp. And then someone knocks on the bathroom door.

"Hey, bro," Lo'ak calls out, voice muffled. "We're going to the lake to hang out. Want to come?"

"Who is we?" Neteyam asks instead, eyeing the reddening mark on his throat with disdain. He'd just cut him palm earlier today, and stabbed himself in the fingertip. The last thing he needs to do is drown.

"All of us," Lo'ak replies cheerily. "Rotxo, Kiri, Spider."

"What about Tsireya and Ao'nung?" He asks Lo'ak.

"They're coming, too, obviously. We're gonna play a game with skittles." Lo'ak seems to shuffle about before the door janks open and he steps inside, successfully banishing Neteyam's personal space. "Based on colours. Red is like, truth or dare. Purple is kiss, mary, kill. Stuff like that. Oh, and we're gonna get wasted! Rotxo might bring some herbs-"

"You mean drugs."

"So now they're drugs?" Lo'ak rolls his eyes, knocking shoulders with his brother. "Not when you're doing them with Uncle Tommy?"

Neteyam clears his throat, looking to the side. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Whatever," Lo'ak snorts. "We're gonna go skinny dipping when it gets dark."

Neteyam raises a brow. "You want the fish to bite you in the dick?"

Lo'ak pauses, bewildered. "What the fuck-"

Neteyam scowls regretfully at his half-straightened hair in the mirror and unplugs the hair-straightener. "But yes, I do want to come. I will not be taking my shirt off, though. Not even if you decide to play strip poker."

"I don't know how to play poker." Lo'ak shrugs.

"I know," Neteyam deadpans.

"But by nightfall, we'll be so drunk we wouldn't even notice if you disappear somewhere with Ao'nung," Lo'ak smiles innocently.

Neteyam gives him his most unimpressed look. "I will not be shagging him in the bushes."

"There's a lake."

The oldest Sully brother sighs, shaking his head as if annoyed, though in truth, he's highly entertained (and a little freaked out, because he does not enjoy mentioning his private life to his brother).

"You don't want that."

Lo'ak's face pinches. "Yeah, you're right. Please don't bang in the lake."

To salvage the situation that is his hair, Neteyam wets his hands in the sink and simply begins scrunching it up, to rid it off whatever straightness he's managed to achieve on strictly one side of his head. It works, though now he has zero frizz on one side of his head. The lake should take care of that.

"I thought about making it a uni party but I don't think most dorm students are here yet." Lo'ak reaches for his toothbrush, pushing Neteyam out of the way with his hip, pretending not to see his brother's scowl.

Neteyam tilts his head. "Rotxo still in the dorms?"

"Nope. I think they're all renting now with Kiri and Spider."

Neteyam hums. "Do I need swimming clothes?"

Lo'ak grins, mouth covered in toothpaste foam. "Probably not."

"Everyone else is going to do it, or are you pranking me?" He raises a brow and moves to stand in the doorway instead.

Lo'ak shrugs, spitting out the toothpaste into the sink. "I assume Tsireya will go as far as taking her top off, but Rotxo and Spider are definitely going to do it. It was their idea. You think Ao'nung will do it?"

"Why?" Neteyam smirks. "You want to see him?"

Lo'ak chokes on his toothbrush. "No! Besides, we went to high-school together. I've seen him."

Neteyam nods once, huffing out an amused laugh.
"Whatever, bro," he says before walking out of the bathroom to find a change of clothes (and his swimming trunks, because he does not trust Lo'ak).

Once there, at the lake, Neteyam is pleasantly surprised to see a little picnic setup and not many other groups of people, and even less families with small children, despite it being their last week of summer freedom. There's a larger group of people seemingly their age, but they're far away enough that Neteyam cannot make out what they are saying. 

Rotxo has brought music (a surprisingly Chappell Roan infested playlist with some Conan Grey. Is it Gray? Neteyam doesn't know) and an ungodly amount of vodka. He'd gagged just looking at the bottles and earned himself a few very amused laughs from Lo'ak and Spider.

Unsurprisingly, Tsireya and Kiri went off together into the water almost as soon as they'd even arrived, arms linked, matching bikinis. Exact same stlye, different colour.

At some point, they changed bikini tops, and Neteyam slowly begins to forget where he is — all he knows is that Ao'nung's right beside him and everything seems to be alright.

He's alright.

How did that even happen, he isn't sure. All he knows is that the world is numbed and pain is not forever. And so, he loses himself in the games, playing games based on skittle colours as night falls. Rotxo's music doesn't help. He's put on some playlist he's apparently named Cunty Music and it's currently playing Shameless. It isn't even that loud, just loud enough that Neteyam can understand the words and all he can think about is Ao'nung.

It feels oddly like that first night— he chokes on his drink. Not a fruity little something for once, but straight vodka. It makes him gag and shiver and earn him a laugh from his brother.

Ao'nung pats his back as he wheezes. "Are you alright?"

"Yea—" his voice breaks off as Ao'nung's hand lingers on his lower back, rubbing gently.

"It's your turn." He hands Neteyam the bag of skittles.

Neteyam groans. He'd been dared to drink his vodka the last round already and it's making his head spin. In a good way, for now.

He pulls one out. "Purple?"

What's purple— he doesn't know. He has no idea, really. But Tsireya has a cheat sheet and she holds it up. He can't see the fuzzy letters. It makes her giggle.

"Smash or pass."

"Ugh—" he snorts, shaking his head. He leans fully against Ao'nung.

They're all sitting in a circle, facing one another. He's the only one still in a T-shirt. Everyone else is wearing clothes to swim in.

"Who's asking me?" He manages finally.

"We haven't had this one yet, let's all say someone!" Spider says, sipping on a beer casually. He's touching shoulders with Rotxo, but Kiri's legs are thrown over his thighs.

"Sounds good," Neteyam hums, setting his drink down. He hopes it gets knocked over before someone remembers to remind him that he has to drink the whole thing.

Lo'ak cracks his knuckles. "I'll go first. Dracula."

"Smash."

He earns a round of shrieking laughs that he suspects are because of his absolute lack of hesitation.

"Steven Hawkins," Kiri says, shrugging.

Neteyam blinks slowly at her. "Pass."

Tsireya hums, tapping a finger against her chin. She's sitting beside Lo'ak, a light scarf loosely over her legs to cover her bare skin. "How about Ryan Reynolds?"

"Pass."

"What?!" Lo'ak gapes.

"How could you say that?" Spider points a finger in Neteyam's face, mouth hanging open. "Every man wants to smash Ryan Reynolds."

Rotxo nods in agreement.

Kiri raises a brow. "Every man?"

"Gay or straight," Lo'ak says, nodding along. "It's a global agreement."

She rolls her eyes, amused. "You're all a little fruity, you don't count. I bet you not every man likes him that much."

"How much are you betting?" Lo'ak raises a brow.

"My entire shell collection."

Neteyam cannot help the wheezy laugh that escapes him as the rest of their group starts whooping loudly.

"What about you?" Kiri asks. "What are you betting on it?"

"My shark tooth necklaces!" Lo'ak says. "I give you a generous one week to find a man who won't smash Ryan Reynolds."

Tsireya giggles into Lo'ak's shoulder, covering her face.

"That's insane," Ao'nung grumbles, though, he too, for some reason looks flustered.

Neteyam raises his eyebrow at him, to which Ao'nung shakes his head.  The swimmer leans in close. "I just don't want her to win this one."

"Why?" Neteyam asks.

Ao'nung shrugs. "I want some of those shells."

Spider claps. "Alright. Next one!"

Neteyam perks up, oddly curious. Might just be the vodka, though. "Okay. Who's next?"

Rotxo raises his hand slowly. "What about Voldemort?"

Neteyam bites the inside of his cheek. "I have to say Pass. For morals."

"For morals?" Kiri snorts.  "Why? If he wasn't evil, you'd smash him?"

Neteyam shrugs.

"I say, Carlos Alcaraz." Spider sets his beer down.

"Who?" Ao'nung frowns.

"The tennis player," Neteyam sighs. "Now that's definitely not a pass."

Ao'nung's frown deepens. "I see. Chalamet."

"Pass."

"Wait, what?" Kiri gapes. "Pass? You constantly send me pictures of him!"

Neteyam shakes his head. "Well, I want to be him. Not be with him."

"Moving on!" Spider calls out. "Your turn, Lo'ak!"

Neteyam zones out, leaning against Ao'nung's side comfortably. Ao'nung wraps an arm around him in a loose, comforting embrace. He's noticed the drink Neteyam has abandoned, but he says nothing.

The evening is oddly nostalgic. He feels a bit like when they went to parties more often. Ao'nung still remembers the bursts of jealousy he'd always feel, and how they'd always end up sleeping in the car if there was nobody to drive them home.

As he looks at Lo'ak, he remembers the younger Sully falling into a bush. And the has a faint memory of Lo'ak fully clothed in a dorm shower, soaking wet. His lips twitch in amusement as the younger brother is dared to attempt a hand stand which he fails miserably. Then, he gazes down at Neteyam, who seems to be lost in his own world.

Ao'nung's gaze lingers, and he feel a familiar warmth bubbling in his chest.  The one he always feels when he looks at Neteyam.

 

Notes:

I wanted this to be longer at first but that didn't happen

Chapter 118: Perhaps the World Ended to Start Anew

Summary:

My apologies for vanishing again, I kinda wanted to kms but I'm back

Notes:

It's so insane to me that I started this story over 2 years ago but for the past few months all I could do was daydream about it instead of actually writing new chapters.
Kept this chapter short because I didn't want to cram too much information about the time-skip into one single chapter lol

also i will probs go back to edit older parts that i haaaate hate hate. esp the ones featuring jason

---

An entire year passes before he finds his way back to himself. He accepts that Jake is gone forever and that his mother's hair is greying. He accepts that taking a break is alright sometimes, if it means he'll be alright later.
Sometimes lifelong passions turn into hobbies or even less, and he doesn't quite mourn himself as much as he thought he would. His birthday had passed — everyone else is a year older, actually.

He's still engaged.
And he can barely remember Jason's face. Or his voice. The photo even less. He's spent so little time on campus that he doesn't even deem himself a student anymore. He is — just... Not quite with the same intensity as before.
He doesn't drink cardamom peach tea anymore, but he does indulge in his fruity ciders on occasion. Milk still upsets his stomach, and he paints his nails again sometimes, dark brown. He's young. He looks older, but he's young.

He remembers, a bit blurry, that he might have thrown away all of his make-up a while ago, but now he can't really there. Ao'nung bought him at least three different gold eyeliners when he caught Neteyam staring at a picture of himself with it on. It made Neteyam feel exposed for a time, but now he traces the thin pencils with tender fingertips and ignores whatever stares he gets on campus or the tiny old man's grocery store. He's not very progressive and it means nothing at all to Neteyam.

The city with its busy streets and spit-gum sidewalks remains his home. Even though he hates the bitter, shoulder-shoving crowds. He hasn't visited home in a while, because Neytiri has taken to bringing Tuk up to the city for all sorts of child-centered activities and events. She doesn't expect her older sons to come along, but Neteyam still joins sometimes, letting tiny hands smear paint on his face to call him a lion.

All in all, life is alright.

It could be better, it could be worse. 
Neteyam still catches himself phoning his father's old number when he goes out with Lo'ak and they need a ride home. Nobody answers.

The number is still theirs, and the phone still works. Neytiri gave it to Lo'ak and Neteyam a long time ago, and Neteyam still charges it on occassion, so that his calls go through. He makes up some lie about not wanting the phone's battery to die when Lo'ak asks about it and he knows nobody believes him. 

Neteyam doesn't make his monthly playlists anymore. He shuffles his entire collection of about five thousand songs and doesn't pay attention to the lyrics anymore. Maybe for the better.

Sometimes, he takes his shirt off and stares at the creamy patches of skin on his body.

Same shade as Jake's skin had been, and all.

It makes him want to throw up and he can't remember why. Something about it is so strange. A perfect imperfection. Thinking so makes him feel egotistical. But maybe, perhaps there's a chance that it could be true. 

 

---

 

Fear.

Fear of what exactly, Neteyam isn't sure. But he's scared and it makes his head hurt and he's so dizzy all the time. He's not so scared of the wedding anymore and he wouldn't mind it happening right away. Who knew planning a wedding took so much time. Lo'ak and Tsireya are planning theirs, too, and Spider has been teasing Lo'ak endlessly for how close he is to becoming a 'real man'. All in good humour of course, but something about it rubs Neteyam wrong.

Maybe because Neteyam had wanted to 'save himself' and then somehow that all ended up as it did during that party. He still thinks about it. Sometimes he wants to go back in time to his booze-hiding-backpack days. To sleeping in Tonowari's ridiculously fancy car while Lo'ak fell over himself into bushes and had to be hozed down in random showers fully clothed.

He misses it.

And Lo'ak usually just blushes and laughs about Spider's teasing; Neteyam can tell it doesn't bother him as it does Neteyam.

He misses the complicated simplicity of the past.

Of being overworked and running off without his shoes. The wake-up call it had been for his parents that he'd simply leave and hide somewhere they'd be too uncomfortable to follow.

He misses the dorm. He misses rooming with his brother and having Ao'nung bring over his notes when Neteyam had overlapping classes. 

He misses the Christmas cookies, apples, pears, passion-fruit-and-orange cider, strawberry milkshakes and getting emotional over people finding his 'girly' drink choices funny. The rose-petal and strawberry boba, and the Polar Bear Challenges in the dead of the night.

He misses who he was before he fell apart. And maybe it is true that time heals wounds, but scars. Scars it caresses. They linger and remain on his soul as kisses of rose-thorn lips.

Lychee and mango. Lazy summer nights.

How wonderful it is to long for his own memories. To have lived through things he wishes he could go back to. But time only goes forward. Memories fade.

Except the ones who wishes would go away.

 

---

 

Neteyam is scared of growing older. He misses being twenty. And he misses being twenty-one. And he also misses being twenty-two. 
Being in his mid-twenties sounds way too serious. Nobody will even say he got married too early now that he's... so old?

Twenty-four.

It's a slow-coming spring this year. January and February ran by so fast, Neteyam hardly has any memories left of it. March is slow, it's been March for months now. He was supposed to graduate this semester, but he isn't. He hasn't finished his biology degree, nor his international relations one either. 
Tsireya's friends graduated. Two of them. On time. As Neteyam should have. 
So far it seems Ao'nung will finish on time; he's already applied for a Master's program. 
Neteyam isn't sure if Kiri, Spider, and Rotxo are to graduate now or later. He knows Tsireya failed that one class a year or so ago, so she won't finish in time.

It calms him, somewhat. 

He isn't the only one.

He has never been the only twenty-something year old without a degree.

And he won't be the last drop-out. If it comes to that.

And it might come to that.

---

 

Notes:

I spent a good thirty minutes lookking around my chapters to figure out how old neteyam is supposed to be with a time skikp lmao
he was 20 when we started, 22 when Jake died, prooobably turned 23 by the time Jason got in the way and he only had 1 year of uni left when he decided he doesnt want to finish it so
he should be 24 with the time skip now.

Chapter 119: Big Little Sister

Summary:

I miss Ao'nung and Tsireya so this chapter is just purely them.

Notes:

I figured if I allowed myself shorter chapters (around 1100 words) it would take the pressure off and let me write more often.
So here's a double update to make up for my insanely long absenses these past few months

---

"I got the job!" Tsireya bursts into the room, beaming.

"What job?" Ao'nung frowns from the sofa he's spread out on, laptop practically on his chest.

"The one I applied to, brother," Tsireya deadpans, toeing off her shoes and locking the apartment's door behind herself. She's met with Ao'nung's silent, confused stare. "I told you about it."

Ao'nung sits up slowly, shutting his laptop and setting it down on the coffee table. "Why do you need a job?"

Tsireya raises a brow. She opens her mouth but closes it, face pinching. "Because I am an adult woman and father shouldn't have to still be paying my rent."

"It's not like it's a problem for him," Ao'nung points out.

"Ugh, brother," Tsireya sighs, flopping down beside him. "Why are you acting like you didn't witness me going to job interviews for the past few weeks."

Ao'nung shrugs. "Well, I didn't think you'd end up actually working?"

Tsireya gapes at him. "Excuse me?"

Ao'nung flushes. "No, I mean... I didn't make the connection that job interviews mean you'll actually have a job after. Not that they won't hire you."

Heaving a sigh, Tsireya shakes her head. She examines her nails, making sure the pink polish she used isn't chipped before turning to face her brother again. "You could ask me what job it is."

Ao'nung bites his lip, sheepish smile appearing on his face. "What job is it?"

Tsireya perks up, an excited grin on her face. "It's a high-end jewellery store on the fashion street. It has nothing to do with my degree but I'll be surrounded by pretty things all day."

"It's part-time, right?" Ao'nung asks carefully, brows furrowed.

"Of course." Tsireya rolls her eyes. "It's a student job, Ao'nung. Besides, I've been eyeing that store since we moved here. There's hardly ever anyone in there because it's so overpriced. I'll be paid to sit around and do homework."

"Won't they get mad at you for that?" Ao'nung cringes.

Tsireya shrugs, some of her curls falling forward, covering her blouse.  "As long as I do all my tasks first, I don't see why they should. I won't be sitting there on my phone, anyway. I'll have hand written notes. And the customers won't even know they have nothing to do with the store."

Ao'nung snorts. "No?"

"If anyone asks, I'm just...checking the stock?"

They stare at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"You know," Ao'nung hums, leaning back against the cushions. "Kiri just told me she started an internship at some firm."

"What kind?" Tsireya's head tilts to the side, her eyes sparkling.

"You know..." Ao'nung sighs, shaking his head. "I always though marine biology meant she'd end up being a pirate or something."

Tsireya blinks, staring open-mouthed at her brother. "Excuse me?"

Ao'nung clears his throat. "Right, so... She starts next week and I think she said she'll be making DNA structures to figure out how diseases effects marine animals."

"Oh, the sound of that makes my head hurt," Tsireya moans. 

Ao'nung nods. He checks the time on his phone and sighs. "Synthetic biology or something like that."

"Don't you need to know programming for that?" Tsireya frowns. She pulls her legs up and tucks them under herself. "I didn't know Kiri knew how to do that."

"She dropped Chinese and Spanish to do some courses in that this year and Spider is apparently really good at using Python and R. So he's been helping her."

"Now my head genuinely hurts," Tsireya whines, rubbing her forehead. "Besides, didn't Kiri drop Chinese after her first year?"

Ao'nung stands, stretching his arms above his head with a quiet groan. "I don't know."

Tsireya nods, fiddling with the sleeve of her top. Ao'nung watches her for a moment, realising her elegant skirt and skin-coloured tights. "Did you just come back from that store?"

"Yeah," Tsireya smiles. "I thought they were calling me in for a second interview, turns out they just wanted to tell me in person that they've decided to hire me."

"That's great," Ao'nung says, and something heavy settles in his stomach. 

They're growing up. He wonders if that scares Neteyam as much as it scares him. The swimmer hasn't even thought about what job he'd apply to once he's done with his degree. He goes to classes, swim meets, hangs out with Rotxo by the riverside while the others are busy and then comes home to spend time with his sister, Lo'ak, and Neteyam.
On weekends he meets up with Kiri and Spider, too.

It's a comfortable rhytmn. Unless he has a million assignments. But mostly, life is simple and cheery. 

Besides, Ao'nung did apply to a Master's program. There's no reason for him to worry. Ronal did tell him to focus on his grades and not worry about his expenses, because Tonowari and her will cover it as long as he needs.

Tsireya seems a touch nervous, too, as she blinks her big, pale eyes up at her brother. "Nung, I've been thinking."

"Yes?" Ao'nung hums, standing beside the sofa she's perched on.

"Lo'ak and I will be married this summer, and-" she pauses, biting the inside of her cheek. "We have to renew our leese soon."

Ao'nung blinks, lips parting in surprise. "Do you want to move?"

"Move out," she adds gently, fiddling with her fingers. "I was thinking we could rent two separate apartments in the same building, though."

Ao'nung relaxes. "You know what, that sounds good."
He pauses. "You don't plan to start a family immediately, right?"

Tsireya gapes for a moment before laughter bubbles from her throat. She covers her mouth and shakes her head. "No, brother. Not yet, anyways. Srufke is way to young to become an aunty."

"And I'm not too young to become an uncle?"

Tsireya rolls her out. "Not really, Nungie. You're pushing thirty."

"Am not!" Ao'nung yelps, offended. "I'm not even twenty-five!"

"You will be very soon, though," Tsireya points out. "That's a very good age to become an uncle."

"Srufke has to be twenty, first!"

Tsireya groans, throwing her hands up in disbelief. "Ao'nung, I might not even still be able to have children in twent years, are you hearing yourself?"

"That could be true," Ao'nung hums, feigning non-chalance. "However, Srufke isn't one. She's-"

"Brother!" Tsireya whines. "What different does it make? She's barely five."

"She just turned four, don't age her up so much!"

"Okay, now you're not making sense," Tsireya deadpans. She glances at her watch and chuckles. "You're going to be late to your swim meet, Nung."

"Oh shit-" Ao'nung gasps, speeding into his room to find his bag.

---

 

Notes:

I find it so insane that we went from Tonowari driving Tsireya to uni every day because she didnt want to live in a dorm in her first year to her now wanting to move in with lo'ak nad getting a job lol

Chapter 120: Military Boy

Summary:

Idk if I mentioned but my older cousin is in the navy and I kinda geeked out when i remembered i wrote that loak and neteyam completed some basic training lmao so i spent a good amount of time researching if ur even allowed to do bootcamps without enlisting and lo and behold
you apparently can so i actually decided to flesh out this detail about the boys a bit more here.
that being said idk shit about the military so there might be some mistakes here but this is fiction in a fictional country so
anyway
enjoy :))

Notes:

when i noticed that one more chapter meant reaching 120 (a/n's included) i got rlly inspired and decided to write this one too

---

"I was kind of thinking about completing another standard training," Lo'ak says, sitting on a park-bench with a melting ice-cream in his hand.

Neteyam looks up from his phone, blinking in surprise. "What kind?"

"Combat focused," Lo'ak replies with a shrug. "You know those boot-camp style ones where you don't actually have to enlist after."

"You mean the kind we've done before?" Neteyam asks, pocketing his phone. 

Lo'ak nods. "Yeah, but I was thinking of finding one that's only afew days long for the spring break."

"Which ones have you done already?"

"Well the basic firearm training obviously." Lo'ak groans when his ice-cream drips onto his jeans. He tries to wipe it off with his fingers, but only smears it further. "And the basic hand-to-hand combat training. We did those together, you know."

"I am aware," Neteyam deadpans. "But we didn't do everything the same. That's why I'm asking."

Lo'ak holds his arms up in surrender. "Ey, okay. Don't need to get pissy. So we did the concealed carry thing and then that Krav Maga one together, no?"

Neteyam nods.

"And then I did like two more, no? Summer after high school." Lo'ak trails off, exhaling through his nose. "It was like a...team-work pistol thing. Oh and then after that mountain warfare thing that nearly gave grandmother a heart attack because it was a no-contact thing."

"You're so smart at explaining things," Neteyam says dryly. No-contact thing. Lo'ak that was so you'll experience what it's like to be isolated in a hostile environment."

Lo'ak waves him off. "At least I didn't go off and focus on nothing but guns!"

"What's wrong with guns?" Neteyam protests.

"I can fight better than you," Lo'ak grins, leaning back smugly. "And my aim is just as good as yours even though I didn't focus on that."

Neteyam snorts, shaking his head. "Your aim sucks. You can't honestly believe you're at my level, Lo'ak, I've been doing archery for most of my life."

"And yet you did that first firearm course with me," Lo'ak sing-songs smugly.

Neteyam rolls his eyes. "Because I didn't feel like going through the hassle of trying to prove I can skip levels."

"Could you?" Lo'ak grins, ice-cream finished. He crosses his arms and sticks his chin out.

 

---

 

It's a few days later, nearing the last few days of March when Tommy decides to come visit. He announces it only because Neteyam and Lo'ak live with Ao'nung and Tsireya and Tommy doesn't want to be rude towards people not yet his family.

He brings a bunch of chocolate, a couple of old T-shirts that he found in his childhood home when visiting grandmother Camille, and two books about Na'vi tribes and history. One for Neteyam and one for Lo'ak. He says the T-shirts used to belong to Jake and pretends his eyes didn't gloss over mentioning his brother for the sake of his nephews before he shows off two bottles of wine his co-workers gifted him for his birthday.

Tsireya and Ao'nung decide to head out to give the Sully brothers some time alone with Tommy.

"Tsu'tey called to let me know they're planning another camping trip with Sylwanin as soon as the weather turns warmer," Tommy beams, spread out comfortably on the sofa.

"We're going to have exams," Lo'ak points out.

Tommy frowns. "Life would be miserable if you couldn't spare a single weekend to camp with your family, little Sully."

"I'm taller than you," Lo'ak grumbles, cheeks flushing. He has a glass of wine in his hand, his phone in the other.

"And yet skinnier," Tommy chuckles, shaking his head. He lifts his own glass in a silent toast and takes a sip. "I heard Grace's girl got a pretty cool internship."

"I always forget you work with Kiri's mom," Neteyam hums, staring into his glass.

"You mean Aunt grace," Lo'ak butts in, rolling his eyes. "When did she become Kiri's mom?"

"Um. When she gave birth to her?" Neteyam scowls, rolling his eyes in return, perhaps harder than he meant to. 

Tommy watches them, amused, before cutting in. "Your mom has taken to wearing dark green eyeshadow."

"Oh, really? I thought mom wasn't much of a make-up fan?" Lo'ak asks. "She rarely wears any."

"Last few times I went to see her and Tuk, she was wearing it. Good for her. It suits her. If I was such a pretty lady I also would wear green eyeshadow."

"Is there something you're not telling us?" Neteyam raises a brow.
"You could wear eyeshadow now, too," Lo'ak says at the same time. He pauses, registering Neteyam's words and turns to Tommy with clear disgust on his face. "Ew, you're not trying to woo mom, are you?"

Neteyam snorts. "I meant that he's gay."

Tommy's arms raise in mock surrender. "You guys are really coming for me. Is this the thanks I get for bringing you chocolate?"

"You're dodging the question," Neteyam points out expectantly. 

"You don't have to be gay to wear eyeshadow," Tommy says instead.

Neteyam shrugs. "Well, I am gay and I wear eyeshadow."

"He paints his nails, too," Lo'ak adds, smirking. "And he got like three new belly button piercings."

"Good for you, Neteyam." Tommy refills his glass and offers to do the same for his nephews, who both accept.

"So, I went to a party," Neteyam begins, cheeks dark from the alchohol. He keeps sipping his wine, despite shuddering from the taste every time.

Lo'ak blinks. "Huh? When?"

"Few days ago when Nung and I went to go see that play at Dante's."

"Dante's?" Tommy asks. 

Neteyam nods with a small noise of happiness. "It's like a theater but not the high-end kind. You go in, it looks like a regular bar and then when you go further in there's a single room with a stage and hardly any props."

"Sound pretty cool," Tommy muses. 

"Yeah, the people there can freely act because the audience isn't as stuck up. And it isn't fourty-year-olds playing teenagers because they won't let anyone new join- that's beside the point. Nung and I went out for drinks after and turns out one of the actors is from his hometown and we met up after. The guy brought his girlfriend who ran into another girl and I was in fact twenty-four when I found out you don't pass around regular cigarette to share."

Lo'ak bursts out laughing. "Oh my God, did you smoke weed?"

"Yeah, the kind they do here."

Lo'ak snorts. "So the one you actually classify as a drug instead of just herbs, huh?"

Neteyam hums in agreement. "But I already had three drinks and I don't really ever inhale the smoke into my lungs so..."

"Wasted opportunity, my man," Tommy laughs.

"Listen," Neteyam bites back his own laugh. "I only founded after I gave it back that it was not a regular cigarette."

"Why would people pass around a regular one, bro?"

Neteyam shrugs. "To be polite?"

"Bless your heart," Tommy howls, slapping his knee. "Politely passing around cigs with strangers. It's as if you've never smoked before."

"Yeah, herbs," Neteyam sniffs.

Lo'ak bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from bursting into giggles. "Herbs, yeah right."

Neteyam hides his amusement by taking a sip of his wine. "Yeah. Herbs."

---

 

Notes:

I'm having a lot of fun showing you guys how everyone is changing as they get older, how some are scared of it (aonung and neteyam), some really enjoy it (like kiri and tsireya). <33
I haven't decided yet if Neteyam will drop out of both his bachelors or just one, or neither but i kind of like the idea that he takes less classes than he should to gradute on time

Chapter 121: Sommersprossen

Summary:

Grandma passed Good Friday(1929-2025). Which is when I wrote the first half of the chapter.
The following week, my uncle died, too, before hitting 50.
And then I got my uni acceptance letter end of July, moved into my new (900 person wtf) dorm and had a whole situationship all spring until August when he moved countries. AND guess who's back in my life.
The same guy from 2024 April.
However! I'm feeling more alive, depsite the constant returns of sadness every few days. And I think I know how I can continue this story <33 At least, iI hope the motivation stays this time.
Enjoy <333

---

Gods above, time does pass. Sunshine seeps through the windows and awakens freckles from their hibernation. Hair lightens, skin darkens, and summer is soon knocking on windows' glass. Life goes on after loss, after war and after pain. After efforts and exams and failures and victories. Life goes on.

Smile.

He feels it in his heart - life is worth living some days, and on others, when it doesn't feel so, he'll do it anyway. When his fingertips linger on that familiar shade of gold, when he got the news his father's gone. When someone invites him out for tea or over for a film. Life goes on and some days, it just might all be worth it, even if nothing in this world compares to the beauty of returning to what we came from. To Eywa, to the Great Mother, to God, to JHVH, to Allah, to Hades, to Whomever-else.

And he'll lie in bed with Ao'nung - then he'd go on a walk with Tsireya, or play-fight with Lo'ak. There will be countless more days, summers, winters, autumns and springs when he'll teach his sister some Ballet, and when he'll shed his coat in the snow and run to freezing waters, when his skin-patterns, milky-way-lines are on display for everyone else to see, when he'll love that part of himself, and there'll be days when he'll hate it again.

When he closes his eyes, he seens himself, torso, lower back, brown-white skin. The soft hairs, a mole or two. His belly-button and its gems. 

Oh and when winter comes, he'll be sad again, he's sure. But summer remains not without the caress of melancholy, just as winter exists not without the sunrays of joy.

He'll miss it. This moment. And the next. 

And what great privilege, Nostalgia. To have memories worth longing for. Some have not even so little.

But have mercy.

Sadness is not a sin.

Not a great one anyway.

He'll long to go back to days he feels he's ruined with his downtown moods. But sadness ruins no day - not truly. Feel no guilt.

What now?

Now that he's calm, now that Ao'nung's right there, above him, over him, with his tan torso caressed by the inside of Neteyam's thighs. With shaky, quiet breaths and soft skin on skin and lips on lips and cheek against cheek, quiet moans and the annoying little creek of the matress under. What comes now that everything is so calm.

To be in the good-graces of the world.

To love and be loved and to smile and to laugh and to whisper, to hold, to give and to get, to make love, to take love. And the whole world smiles. But then it cries. But then again - it will smile.

To hate this, how could he.

How could he hate the April-opened window and the little fly that found its way inside and landed on the shelf while Ao'nung was there above him, taking love to give it and to make it in return. 
How could anybody hate such a life. How could he have? To anticipate his brother's wedding, his mother's hair, his sister's laugh.

There is nothing left in him which could hate - how dramatic he'd been. Yet it was alright. It was who he was at the time. He won't prossecute himself for non-crimes.

 

---

 

New starts.
There’s something about them that Neteyam really quite likes – spring was fun, summer was hot and boring, quiet, loud; Tuk wouldn’t stop clinging to him. Every few weeks, Neteyam notices how much taller she’s gotten. She has a new hobby every day, but ballet she refuses to give up. 

Lo’ak completed another training, so did Neteyam. Unfortunately, Spider’s not-so-favourite father figure was there, and he was there quite a lot. Quaritch, respectful when he must (when informing family of a soldier’s passing), didn’t feel like extending his mercy over the summer. Lo’ak especially got himself in trouble. Sometimes, Neteyam thinks, he deserved his punishments. Half the time, Quaritch was over the top.

And New Starts.
How summer passes by; mellow and warm and the first few days of fall linger with its heat. September, another fall semester. Another fall semester, and another new start.
Neteyam feels alive. He’s made many jewellery sets over summer, painted, made many sketches of Ao’nung. Some better than others. Wrote the occasional poem and forgot all about Jason.

“I want to live in the dorm again,” he’d told Ao’nung one day. “It’s more convenient.”

Ao’nung had blinked, surprised, before a smirk formed on his face and he nudges Neteyam’s shoulder with his own. “Yeah? You want to be roommates perhaps?”

“We could always go for a three-bedder,” Neteyam had replied, brows beaded with sweat in that mid-July heat when he’d brought this up. “But I’m thinking stranger rather than Lo’ak.”

“Alright, you lost me.” Ao’nung had snorted with a headshake. “I’m willing to go back to a two-person room. But no strangers. I am too old for that.”

“Oh sure, old man.” Neteyam had shook his head, masking amusement. He’d wrapped an arm around Ao’nung’s and leaned into his side. “Alright, fine. Pick a roommate. Lo’ak, me, or Rotxo?”

“Who said Lo’ak is coming?” Ao’nung had asked him instead. “He would love to play house with my sister.”

Having had sensed the slight annoyance, Neteyam mirrored Ao’nung’s earlier snort. “You mean, his fiancé?”

It had earned him an eyeroll, and that eyeroll launched the application to return to campus full-time.

“I’m thinking of going all the way to a PhD.” Kiri had sat beside him in a cozy, though not very air-conditioned café at the end of August. “I’m going to be a student forever. But it could be fun. I don’t want to settle down and start a family yet anyway, and I want a cool job. Later rather than sooner.”

“Well, perhaps I would like to do that, too.” Neteyam had fiddled with his straw. “Would kind of need to graduate first.”

“Whatever you do, don’t triple major, please.”

And so, as grief slowly faded from his life, and new opportunities presented themselves, Neteyam found himself anticipating going back to school.

Twenty and four. A freshman.

But a freshman who finally knows what he wants. He’d put his international studies bachelor’s on hold, dropped out of Korean but joined a language school instead. And he feels free. In his soul he feels he’s on another planet, soaring high through floating rocks on the back of an Ikran.

Freshman events? Not for him. He’s older than most seniors.
Dorm events? Sure, he’s in.
Ao’nung in his dorm like silly sneaking teenagers? He’s very in.

Lo’ak and Tsireya ended up coming along as well, after convincing Kiri to join, so Tsireya wouldn’t have to room with a stranger. That is how Spider and Rotxo ended up in a dorm again, too.
Neteyam hadn’t asked them to come. He’d have been fine with just Ao’nung. Tsireya never wanted to live in a dorm before. Tonowari used to drive her every day.

And telling people he’s engaged, watching the utter surprise on their faces brought Neteyam great amusement. Surprisingly, nobody cared about his age. Or, unsurprisingly, he never really told anyone. To him, eighteen and twenty-something was quite easy to spot. He’d graduated high school long enough ago, that fresh graduates were now quite different than when he’d finished.

And so, he’d taken up a game with Lo’ak. Twenty under or above, as they called it.

And sure, life is up and down, but for the first time in a while, Neteyam feels like things might turn out to be just right.

Notes:

If any of my OG readers stuck around, welcome back and I hope you guys are doing okay.
If any of you want to stay in contact outside of AO3 you can still find me on insta at bbttna_