Chapter Text
Ao’nung is sitting in the cafeteria with Rotxo and Tsireya, when he sees Neteyam dragging a peeved-looking Lo’ak along by the collar, Kiri trailing after them.
He frowns up at them in confusion as they approach their table, plopping down on the bench and pulling their lunches out of their bags.
“What’s going on?” Tsireya asks.
“Fuckface over here was trying to start a fight,” Kiri supplies helpfully, gesturing to Lo’ak as she bites into a baby carrot.
Lo’ak sputters. “I was not.”
Neteyam gives him one of his signature withering side-eyes. Lo’ak shrinks into himself.
“Yes you were, and you’re lucky Neteyam stopped it before it got physical or else he would have beat that motherfucker’s ass into next year,” Kiri remarks offhandedly.
Neteyam’s face heats up at the comment.
Ao’nung scrunches his brow. He had only known the Sullys for a couple of months, when they had moved to town and the three older kids had transferred to his high school. He knew Lo’ak could be hot headed at times, but Neteyam was the calmest, sweetest, most collected person he had ever met.
As if to prove his point, Neteyam pulls a box of traditional Omatikayan desserts out of his bag, offering them around.
“I know they’re your favourite,” he smiles, when he sees Ao’nung’s face light up. He grabs one gratefully and takes a bite.
“You’re trying to tell me,” Ao’nung says with his mouth full of the delicious treat, “that this literal ray of sunshine would ‘beat someone into next week’?” He makes air quotes with his fingers.
Neteyam blushes at the comparison, Ao’nung’s heart flopping in his chest. In truth, he’s harboured a crush on the darker-skinned boy since he had introduced himself on the first day of class with a hand shake of all things, like he was some 50 year old businessman.
“Ha!” Lo’ak barks out, “Ray of sunshine my ass!”
Neteyam gives him a stern look and he pipes down.
“Anyway…” Neteyam draws out the end of the word, “what do you guys think is coming up on the bio quiz?”
A chorus of groans goes up around the table and it’s clear the topic of conversation has been changed, however Ao’nung can’t help but picture Neteyam in a fight, lithe muscles flexing, panting and sweaty, and has to unzip his hoodie to cool himself down.
…
It’s a couple weeks later and Ao’nung is on his way to math class when he notices a commotion in the hallway. He pushes through the throng to see Lo’ak hunched against the lockers, blood trickling from his split lip. Tsireya is next to him, wrapping a comforting hand around his shoulders and offering him a tissue.
Neteyam stands in the middle of the hallway, glaring at a boy that Ao’nung recognises from his chem class.
“Get your fucking hands off my brother,” he growls, pushing the boy back by his shoulders.
When the boy doesn’t back down he pulls a fist back, tension coiling in his muscles like a spring before snapping, sending his knuckles flying into his face again and again until only bloodied pulp remains.
Ao’nung is absolutely terrified. He’s also very, very turned on.
A teacher rushes up to them, pushing gaping students out of the way, and hauling Neteyam back, gripping his arms.
Neteyam pants, a murderous look in his eyes as he is dragged away.
The bully lies on the ground, motionless, as students crowd around him. Ao’nung sees Tsireya leading Lo’ak away and trusts her to take care of him. He rushes in the opposite direction, pacing outside the shut door of the principal’s office.
A few minutes later Jake Sully appears, storming past without sparing him a glance. He knocks on the door and enters, reappearing a while later, yanking his son along by the arm, grip bruising, a thunderous look on his face.
Neteyam catches Ao’nung’s eye. He does not look sorry.
…
Later that evening, Neteyam is lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling when he hears a soft tap on his window. He shoots up to see Ao’nung’s face smiling in at him.
He rushes to the window, sliding it open and letting the older boy climb inside. Ao’nung is glad that Neteyam’s room is on the ground floor.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he hisses.
“Wanted to check up on you,” Ao’nung replies with a lopsided smile.
Neteyam rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. He leads him to his bed, sitting with his legs crossed, Ao’nung leaning back on his hands and letting his legs dangle over the edge. “How’d it go with the principal?”
Neteyam sighs. “Got suspended,” he mutters. “Dad says I’m lucky the other guy isn’t pressing charges. I broke his nose and fractured his cheekbone.” He looks somewhat sheepish now that the adrenaline of the flight has left him.
“You probably did him a favour. Not like he could get any uglier.” Ao’nung shrugs.
Neteyam snorts, fiddling with his fingers. Ao’nung shifts forward and grasps his smaller hand in his own, examining the bruised knuckles and skimming his thumb over the split skin gently.
Neteyam sucks in a breath. His pupils are blown wide when Ao’nung looks up at him. Slowly, Ao’nung lifts Neteyam’s hand to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the tender flesh.
Neteyam can only watch, heat rolling over him, as Ao’nung kneels to face him, intensity burning in his eyes, and leans closer, raising a hand to cup his jaw, smoothing a thumb over his soft cheek, before pressing their lips together.
Neteyam squeezes his eyes shut, heart hammering, and returns the kiss. Ao’nung’s lips are slightly chapped against his own, and he lifts a hand to tangle in the taller boy’s dark locks.
Ao’nung tilts his head, deepening the kiss, tongue pressing against the line of Neteyam’s lips. Neteyam groans softly, parting his lips and granting him entrance, feeling their tongues slide together sensually.
Ao’nung slowly pushes Neteyam back until he is lying flat on the bed, knees spread and bracketing Ao’nung’s hips.
They kiss languidly until their lips are raw, Neteyam’s hands roaming up and down Ao’nung’s broad back.
Ao’nung moves his lips to Neteyam’s jaw, trailing wet kisses until he reaches his neck, sucking softly, admiring the bruise that appears against his caramel skin.
His hands slip under the hem of Neteyam’s T-shirt, pushing the fabric up his torso as his hands explore the warm expanse of skin. Neteyam arches his back as his nipple is tweaked, gasping. Ao’nung pushes his hands up further, Neteyam raising his arms above his head, allowing him to remove the article of clothing.
Ao’nung tosses the T-shirt to the side, immediately latching onto a nipple with his mouth, rolling the tight nub between his teeth as Neteyam keens, pinching the other between his thumb and forefinger.
Neteyam’s mind is hazy with lust as he tangles his fingers in Ao’nung’s thick curls, erection straining against his sweatpants.
Ao’nung gradually moves lower, trailing kisses, licking a stripe below his belly button, before hooking his fingers in Neteyam’s waistband. He glances upwards, silently asking for permission. Neteyam nods, face flushed, and Ao’nung tugs his pants down in one swift motion, allowing his aching cock to spring free.
Ao’nung kisses his inner thighs, rubbing soft circles on his hip bones with his thumbs, before grasping Neteyam’s shaft in his hand and swirling his tongue around the tip, tasting the salt of his precome.
Neteyam chokes on a moan, fighting to keep his eyes open as he watches his throbbing length disappear into the searing heat of Ao’nung’s mouth.
Ao’nung bobs his head rhythmically, flattening his tongue and hollowing his cheeks, hand gripping the base firmly. He lets Neteyam’s cock touch the back of his throat, breathing deeply through his nose.
“Fuck, Ao’nung,” Neteyam pants, and Ao’nung almost comes then and there at the sound of Neteyam’s wrecked voice.
He briefly slides his other hand down to palm himself through his trousers, trying to alleviate the aching tension in his cock, before bringing it up to press a thumb firmly against Neteyam’s perineum, rubbing tight circles.
Neteyam cries out at the sudden rush of pleasure, heat coiling rapidly in his abdomen, snapping before he has a chance to warn Ao’nung, waves of bliss rolling over him.
He spills into Ao’nung’s mouth, who lets out a small noise of surprise but does his best to swallow his come down, some of it trickling out of the side of his mouth and down his chin.
Neteyam pants heavily, limbs quivering, watching Ao’nung with half lidded eyes as he wipes the come from his chin, sucking his fingers clean.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, “that was… fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t warn you.”
Ao’nung smirks. “Don’t worry,” he says, voice slightly raspy.
He moves upwards and kisses Neteyam languidly, gripping his throat gently with a large hand. Neteyam can taste himself on his tongue and moans. He can feel Ao’nung’s arousal pressing into his hip.
He slowly trails a hand down Ao’nung’s chest as they kiss, breaking away as he reaches his waistband, deftly undoing the button on his jeans and pushing the zipper down.
Ao’nung reaches down and helps him push the heavy fabric away, wiggling until it’s halfway down his thighs along with his boxers.
Neteyam brings his hand up to his mouth and licks a broad stripe across his palm, before reaching down again and gripping Ao’nung’s member, thumb tracing over the slit, gathering the beading precome.
Neteyam begins to pump his hand, swiping his thumb over the head every now and then, twisting his wrist and squeezing at the base.
Ao’nung watches, transfixed, as his flushed cock is pushed through Neteyam’s tight grasp, swollen head appearing and disappearing with each pump. He grunts out a curse as Neteyam picks up the pace, pleasure swelling within him steadily, his body desperate for release.
Neteyam attaches his lips to his throat and sucks harshly, pinpricks of pain shooting through Ao’nung, making him groan.
He pulls back and looks Ao’nung in the eyes, pupils blown so wide that his eyes look black. The intensity sends Ao’nung over the edge, squeezing his eyes shut and resting his forehead against Neteyam’s as he spills over his hand, waves of pleasure consuming him.
He pants, coming down from the high, registering Neteyam’s hand on his hip, squeezing gently and pulling him back to reality.
He blinks his eyes open, blue meeting gold, huffing out a breathy laugh.
“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees, chuckling.
He reaches for a tissue to clean his hand while Ao’nung pulls up his boxers and kicks his jeans off all the way. He pulls on his own boxers and T-shirt before cuddling up to Ao’nung, the other boy wrapping a strong arm around his waist.
They bask in the afterglow for a few moments.
“Why have we never done that before?” Ao’nung muses, breaking the silence.
Neteyam hums. “Maybe I should get into fights more often.”