Work Text:
You cry and writhe beneath my hands, but a memory has never looked so beautiful.
Am I soft enough? Am I being gentle?
You, with the crystal eyes that never stop spilling your waterfalls, do you still love me?
Tell me you do.
Cry for me again.
It had been two days since the great battle between the surrounding Na'vi clans and the Fallen Na'vi who had turned their backs on Eywa. Bodies torn by both bullets and seared down to the bone by demon-tech flamethrowers had slowly washed up along their shores for them to identify and return to their families properly.
Most of the homes had been burned, but there were a few standing strong. Their canopy waved in the sea's breeze almost as if it were grieving as well. Grief had stricken the hearts of the Metkayina people, but it was voided cloud of darkness for Tsahìk's children. Their mourning weeps could be heard from dusk to dawn.
“Mama…”
A quiet sob climbed its way out of Ao'nung's throat.
It was even harder for the eldest, Ao'nung. He had been the closest to her. Often pressed close to his mama's side on walks together, or knee to knee when making new jewelry. They looked nearly identical. The women in Ronal's close circle would joke that Ao’nung was an exact clone rather than the offspring of the two parents. His mother would wave it off, but Ao'nung always took it as a compliment.
What he wouldn't give to have her wipe his tears now. He'd been sitting on the nets that held them above water for hours now, his mother's baby blanket she'd grown up with pressed tightly to his nose so he could smell her with every heave of his chest. It ached more than any bruise or any wound. Like someone'd ripped his heart from his throat along with all his other intestines. Not even a lick of hunger came over him.
“Mama,” Ao'nung whimpered again, rubbing angrily at his eyes.
He hiccuped, then began sobbing once more, folding in on himself.
“Brother…” came a soft, airy voice from behind. His sister, who was younger than him, acted more mature than he could ever hope to be. She moved through grief with the same elegance their mother held, so easy as if it never happened, while he drowned in it.
“You must eat,” she insisted, kneeling beside him. Her pink loincloth of leaves pooled on top of her knees. “It has been days since I have seen you eat something.”
Tsireya's soft hand slipped beneath Ao'nung's jaw, guiding him away from the soft fuzz of the blanket and instead to her concerned eyes. Only then did he notice the steaming bowl of porridge in her hand.
He hiccuped a small breath and dragged his shaking knuckles across his eyes again. The urge to stay strong in front of his little sister bubbling inside him, but couldn't grow enough to control him. The coil of hunger was a poison beneath his thin skin and was an ever constant thorn in his side, pushing deeper in and begging for remedy, but he squashed it and shook his head no. No, he couldn't.
“Then please, drink some water.” Tsireya twisted her torso to grab the sea glass bottle she'd brought as well.
Ao'nung's eyes lazily dragged over the bottle and the way the sun's rays shone through it and washed it in a muted turquoise. Tsireya's delicate cupped hands brought it up to his chapped lips, her fingertip tapping the rim. Just like his mother used to. He forgets sometimes that she is also his mother's daughter and carries those same mannerisms in her. It would be comforting if it didn't hurt so much.
“Ao'nung,” her gentle voice coaxed him from the depths of his mind. “Please.”
Her hand came back to pillow his cheek once more. He nuzzled into it without thinking, like all the times he used to do when he was a little boy, hiding into the safety of his mother's neck as she bounced him on her hip. It felt like nothing could hurt him when he was burrowed there.
Ao'nung's lashes fluttered at the memory, eyes trained on the glass bottle.
“I… I can't,” he whispered shakily. “I'm sorry…”
He could hardly get the words out without them collapsing under the weight of his grief.
His sister simply nodded before pulling away, leaving him to curl in on himself.
“It is okay. We will try again tomorrow.”
Weak, his mind spat at him, a snarl of disgust and disdain, beating him when he was already down. Ao'nung's head hung in shame, but his eyes watched his sister's figure slip into their marui, the hide drape falling shut after her. He wanted to tear himself open, grip his insides to inspect where it all went so wrong with him, but so right with her.
Look at her… look at you. How pathetic.
Perhaps the hunting knife he kept sanitized would come in useful for another night. His nails were already peeling open his skin anyway. A simple “accidental cut” would look no different.
A shuffle startled Ao'nung. He looked up, then jolted to sit a little straighter when he saw his father's looming build completely shadow him. The chief's eyes, steely and sharp, cut right into Ao'nung.
“Father,” he started quietly, but was quickly disrupted.
“Your sister tells me you do not eat.” The man's voice was twisted in disappointment, rattling little Ao'nung. “Is this true?”
He blinked. “Well, I-”
“I said, is this true?” Tonowari boomed.
Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and he let his head hang, sniffing like a little boy being scolded. He was being so mean… papa was never this mean.
“... yes, father. It's true.”
The silence that followed this pressed on Ao'nung. Punishing him for all that he couldn't be with his father standing there to witness it. He began to cry quietly, tears streaming down his cheeks in fat lines that were rubbed away by angry fists.
It stung because it was so important to Ao'nung- because he wanted to make him proud.
The glass silence shattered; his father's heavy footsteps crossed over, and then a strong hand curled around Ao'nung's arm. He was roughly yanked up in order to stand, but his legs were so weak, his father ended up half dragging him.
“Stop!” Ao'nung sobbed, beating his fist down on the hand clamped around him. “I don't want to go inside!”
Tonowari did not listen.
“You will eat,” he grunted in effort as his son twisted every which way to escape. “I do not care if I have to force feed you. I will not lose another family member.”
Inside the marui was haunting after Ronal had passed: drapes of her clothing, accessories, tapestries she'd made hung from every hook and rested on every flat surface the eye could see. Tonowari had gone through her things and displayed them everywhere; he refused to let go of her ghost. Ao'nung couldn't stand being in such a suffocating place.
Tonowari's large hand splayed on the boy's lower back to guide him forward regardless of his small noises of protest. He was then pushed down onto a pillow that sat in front of a fire. A pot of fish stew had been slowly cooking for hours now. Tonowari then lowered himself next to Ao'nung, close enough that he was basically draping himself over the back of his son.
Without a word, his father lifted the pot and poured some into a wooden bowl, steam curling into the air to mix with the smoke. He was still sniffling when Tonowari brought a spoonful up to the seal of Ao'nung's lips.
“Open,” his father commanded.
Ao'nung tried to twist his head away, but his jaw was caught by his father's other hand, gripping tightly.
Then, slowly, his father's thumb brushed across Ao'nung's lips, his sharp eyes following. Although, they weren't sharp anymore. No, the word Ao'nung would use to describe them was… hungry.
Ao'nung swallowed nervously at the shift in atmosphere. He opened his mouth before anything more could happen, though, he doesn't even know what that would be. His eyes never met Tonowari's. Instead, he trained them on the floor, the sound of his scared heart hammering in his own ears.
“Good,” he heard his father breathe out deeply.
Ao'nung could feel the rise and fall of his strong chest against the side of his back and arm. The taste didn't even register on his tongue. He felt too nervous, too hyper focused on the way his father held him. It wasn't forceful or rough, just close.
But this was his papa. Papa would never hurt him, Papa loved him, so what is there to worry about?
Another steamed spoonful pressed to Ao'nung's soft lips. He hesitated only a moment, the heaviness of the air weighing him down, and the steady breaths from behind warmed his ear. It was uncomfortably intimate and left him squirming in the dead quiet.
“You must eat, son.” Tonowari's deep voice jolted Ao'nung, and he quickly opened up to sip from the spoon clumsily. He was trembling. He didn't know why.
A drop of soup beaded down his chin, and he saw his father's low eyes follow it before he reached up to wipe it away. Ao'nung's eyes averted nervously.
“You can sleep in my room tonight,” Tonowari said softly. “Tsireya says that she sees you up at night. Perhaps being next to me will help, like we used to when you were young. You remember, don't you?”
Tonowari breathed out a small laugh and gently shook Ao'nung's shoulder. But he could not share the joy of the fond memory. Not when it felt so odd to be with him right now. His fingers curled weakly into the soft fabric spilling over his knees.
“It is alright,” Ao'nung whispered into the curve of his own scrunched shoulder, unsure whether this counted as disobeying or not. His ears lowered, and his tail curled inward. “I'll be alright sleeping in my own bed.”
He felt his father's hand smooth over his upper arm, lingering almost.
“You will not bother me, Ao'nung. Come, it will be good for both of us,” Tonowari insisted softly with another press of the spoon to his lips. Refusing was no longer an option.
Sleeping in his father's bed turned out to be good for both of them. Curled up like a newborn, Ao'nung was nuzzled into his father's chest with strong, warm arms wrapped so lovingly around him, he'd forgotten all about the yelling that had occurred earlier.
His father tugged Ao'nung's hair free and massaged his scalp, lulling the boy's mind into something fuzzy and weightless. The last time someone had done this exact thing to him was his mother a week before she died, but it was hard to even be sad with all the cotton in his limp head.
“Your mother used to let me do this for her when she couldn't sleep, too.”
A kiss was pressed to his forehead with more sweet words whispered against it. Ao'nung could only smile through the fog before drifting asleep.
Morning crawled in slowly over the skin of the marui. It filtered the room in heavy oranges and yellows. Sluggish with the hour, Ao'nung stretched long like a cat before flopping over to bury his face into the pillow. He felt at ease with the absence of his father's warmth next to him in his bed. It smelled like him, his pillows did: floral and woodsy. He remembered times when he was little, when he'd tug his mother's arm to wake her up and hold him when he'd had a bad dream. Smooshed between both parents, whatever monster was under his bed couldn't harm him there. Back then, he was safe. Now, he felt uncomfortable.
Ao'nung slowly rose to his feet. Perhaps yesterday was just an off day for his father. He blamed it on the weather and brushed it off, walking through the hanging beads to enter the main room.
Tonowari was already there.
He was standing next to the shelves deathly still with his rigid back to him. Ao'nung wondered if he was even breathing. One big hand rested on one of the many pots lined there, and if it weren't for the subtle movement of his thumb stroking the rim, he would've thought he was frozen.
After a moment, Tonowari snapped out of it and turned his head.
“Good morning,” the man greeted.
“Good morning,” Ao'nung answered quietly, slowly shifting to one foot and messing with the loose strings of his loincloth. He felt like a rat being cut open for inspection under his father's unmoving eyes. He looked to the floor instead.
“Did you sleep well?”
He wished he didn't, but he could never lie to his father. Ao'nung nodded.
“Words.” Tonowari demanded suddenly. Ao'nung snapped up straight and dropped his head, ears nervously pinned back.
“Yes, father,” he whispered shakily.
“Speak up.” The man snapped but a little more calmly now. He moved towards Ao'nung.
“Yes, father,” he corrected instantly. Prickles of hot tears stung his eyes already. He tried to blink them away quickly.
“An Olo’etan always speaks up,” the man mumbled gravelly, now circling Ao'nung like a vulture. “He is the pillar of the clan, he must be strong, so raise your voice.”
A large hand slowly dragged across Ao'nung's nape to move his curls as he continued his “lesson”. It just sounded like a delirious, ongoing sentence that never ended.
“Your mother loved breakfast in the mornings,” Tonowari mumbled out of nowhere. “She would wear her hair down just like this for me. I thought she looked so beautiful.”
There was a long stretch of silence that followed. Tonowari was standing right behind him, and the only thing Ao'nung could do was tremble horribly.
“Come sit,” he said in a softer tone again. Like he used to have before this horror. “I made your favorite.”
Ao'nung looked at the pot over the fire. Beef stew and boiled eggs. That wasn't his favorite, that was his mother's.
This was odd. Was this odd? Was he overthinking? He can't breathe. What is going on?
“I want Tsireya,” he whispered.
“Hm?” Tonowari hummed dismissively. He'd walked over to the fire again to take the pot off. “Son, what did I just tell you about mumbling-”
“I have to go,” Ao'nung yelled out. He quickly placed his finger tips to his mouth in shock, as if he wasn't expecting to shout like that. “Forgive me, I'm sorry. I have to go.”
Then he slipped out of the tent and ran.
The tidal pools on the rocky part of the shore always eased his mind. The path there wound like a serpent- Ao'nung called it Snake's Path. There were shallow stones smoothed by the water and small shelves of coral that peeked out of the shallow water. It was warm today, the sea salt spray of the waves fluffed his hair. Along this familiar path bowed light green palm leaves, curling down to brush his cheeks and whispering softly as he passed through them: “Welcome back, prince.” He smiled shyly when he thought this to himself, brushing his fingers through the fronds.
By the time Ao'nung made it to the pools, he already felt a little lighter. The large basins were tucked close to the cliffside where the tip of it loomed over, casting a shadow from far above. It allowed for long vines to dangle a little above his head. Little buds grew on them. It was his favorite place to be.
Slowly, he lowered himself into the crisp water. It cooled his heated skin, made his long braid float and the tendrils spread as if they needed cooled as well. He tilted his head back to soak his hair too.
Thoughts of his mother came, as they always did. She would rub Ao'nung's hair with all sorts of soaps and oils to loosen the curls if it was a particularly humid day. Even as he grew older, all the way up until her death, she'd done this for him. Even braiding around his kuru, she would insist on doing, or at least helping. He knew deep in his heart that this was her way of bonding, so he never rejected her. He loved it, actually. Oftentimes their conversation would be gossip. His mother would hear many things with the people she helped as Tsahìk, and those things often trickled down to Ao'nung's listening ears at home. There would be times he'd cuddle her. She wouldn't say anything about it, about being too old for this sort of thing. She just did it. Threading her long nails through his curls to scratch deeply along his scalp.
Ao'nung wasn't sure how long he stayed in the pools grieving. His eyes had been swollen and his voice hoarse from sobbing for so many hours. He felt drained of what little energy he had in the first place. The skin of his palms and feet were pruned when he finally rose from the water. The sun was two-hands length from the horizon. It was time to go home- to that wretched place of Mom's life draped up on every corner. Just thinking about it made him sick to his empty stomach.
Ao'nung neared the village once more, seeing in the distance kids running and laughing, playing with what little toys had survived the flames of what was hopefully the last raid of Sky People. He slowed when his marui came into view. The fabric hangings still fluttered like they always did, tattered with age and from generations passed down.
Before he could walk up to enter, a voice called his name.
“Ao'nung,”
His sister was just down the shoreline with a large woven basket of crustaceans on her hip. Her sweet smile lit up the world around her, loose curls waving gracefully in the breeze. She quickly set her basket down and ran over, crushing Ao'nung in a hug, though not very hard due to her slim body.
“I was looking for you,” she sighed in relief against his shoulder, clinging to him. “Nobody knew where you went.”
“I just needed some air,” he said softly, pulling back a little.
Tsireya gave a sympathetic look as her blue eyes trailed over Ao'nung, sure to see all the sleepless nights in his sunken face. She cupped his cheek like he was fragile glass.
“You should've told me,” Tsireya cooed gently. “I would've gone with you to the pools so you would not be alone.”
Ao'nung's brow scrunched lightly. “How did you know I was…”
He slowly trailed off. A large shadow grew over them. He turned his head to see his father standing outside the entrance of the marui. For a beat, nothing was said. Tonowari's low eyes were focused solely on him, never straying once towards his sister despite her being still nuzzled into his chest. Tsireya didn't seem disturbed at all. There was no tenseness in her body. In fact, she relaxed a little when she saw him. Perhaps the odd looks were only in Ao'nung's mind.
“I found Ao'nung,” Tsireya said the obvious, smiling until her dimples grew even deeper.
“Where was he?” Tonowari asked, watching Ao'nung for a second longer before ripping his eyes away to settle on his daughter.
“The pools,” she answered.
Tonowari gave no answer. He only hummed, then slipped back inside the marui.
Ao'nung couldn't help the way his skin crawled.
“Sister, do you think dad is acting weird?” He whispered as she gently tugged Ao'nung inside the marui too.
“No?” The way she frowned at him made him feel a little ashamed to even be thinking that. “Why do you say that?”
He looked down in shame. “I don't know.”
Tsireya didn't say more about it, but she seemed almost offended by Ao'nung's words. Once inside, Tsireya began to prepare beading another one of the elders’ loincloths that had been lost to the fire, along with many other things. Always so helpful, something Ao'nung wished he could be. Another wave of guilt washed over him, forcing him to plop down on the floor and hug his knees.
“Everyone grieves differently. You cannot expect dad to simply bounce back to his normal self again.”
Ao'nung snapped his head with alarmed ears.
“Quiet!” He whisper-shouted, eyes frantically scanning the room to see where his father had gone. “Tsireya, what is wrong with you? He could've heard you!”
“What?” Tsireya pouted. She had three thick strings and many beads bundled in her arms to take them to the elders’ marui to bead there. Ao'nung looked at her full arms, realization settling in as he realized she was leaving.
“Where are you going?” He asked, though he knew the answer. He just hoped pointing it out would make her stay. He didn't want to be alone with dad.
“I'm beading at Ta'lo’s,” she replied casually, grabbing a few more things from inside a bin.
“Why?”
Tsireya finally snapped and slammed her fabric down onto the table, ears pinned flat.
“Because you are acting weird and you are making me nervous!” She cried, sweet face pinched with desperation. “There's nothing wrong with papa! He is just sad, and you are not helping by calling him names!”
Ao'nung flinched as if she'd struck him, the only sound being the beads dangling from her hand clacking together.
“I-I'm not calling him names, I just- Tsireya, wait!” He scrambled to stand, but she was already storming towards the door. “I didn't mean it, I'm sorry!”
It fell on deaf ears; Tsireya had already slipped out of the door, leaving the fabric hangings to flutter after her. He crumpled to a ball on the floor, gripping what little meat he had on his arms and dragging down with his claws. Worry, anxiety, it all meshed in his stomach like a tight ball, jumping into his throat and threatening to spill out. It was all too much, too much! He couldn't take this anymore. Would this last forever?
Ringing was all he could hear in his ears until a deep, booming voice broke through his turmoil.
“Ao'nung, come into my room,” Tonowari requested from behind the shell wall of his room's curtain.
The young boy snapped upright instantaneously, rubbing his wet eyes angrily. He padded with quick bare feet over towards the door, but he stopped short. Something inside didn't feel right. It felt odd to enter his parents’ room as before, he was never really allowed in. Despite this, he swallowed his fear and brushed the hanging shells to the side. Shyly, Ao'nung peeked his head in.
“Father?” He asked quietly into the dark. Not even a lamp was lit. It seemed like some time today, his father had hung blankets along the membrane of the marui. But, very faintly, he could see his father's glowing tanhì snaking around his arms and legs. It looked like he was sitting on the bed.
“My son.” A clack of rocks being smacked together could be heard before a spark caught, and the room bloomed in a soft glow of gold. His father did not smile when their gazes met. He looked the definition of depressed; the bags under his eyes spoke of countless sleepless nights. “Come sit.”
It took a moment for the young boy to gather the courage to sit, but he did. He walked quiet as a mouse, then lowered himself onto the bed next to his father. He did not meet his eyes. They stayed glued to his cupped, nervous hands, wringing them.
“Your mother would go to those pools often before she had you,” he said at last. It was soft and quiet but did nothing to calm Ao'nung's little heart. “Sometimes she would take me there, even when I said no.”
Tonowari laughed quietly and shook his head. Ao'nung flinched slightly at the sound.
“She was always so stubborn. You have her stubbornness.” He paused to rest a big hand over Ao'nung's small knee. “And her tenderness.”
This time, Ao'nung did raise his head to meet his father's eyes. Deep, dark pools of turquoise. The blue was tainted by the sheer blown-out size of his pupils. The boy began to squirm, though he did not know why. They seemed hungry for her memory.
“You have her eyes, her face…” His father began to trace Ao'nung's features the way he would sometimes see with his mother. They lingered on Ao'nung's steadily blushing cheeks, his sweet nose, then stopped at his pressed, nervous lips. Tonowari moved closer, led by a string. It pulled a small inhale from his son.
“You remind me so much of her…”
A soft clicking sound drew Ao'nung's attention down. He hadn't known his father was holding his mother's old shell top, turning it over in his hands. The boy swallowed nervously, his throat clicking, and his lips parting, but he didn't know what to say. Why had his father brought him in here in the dark? Tears sprung to his sweet eyes, lips opening, closing, then opening again. The lump was growing far too big in his little throat.
“Father,” he whispered shakily, smacking the words with his wettening mouth. “You're scaring me.”
“No, no, no, no, my sweet, darling boy.” Ao'nung was suddenly pulled into strong arms, the boy shaking and crying softly. Tonowari shushed him, petting his hair almost too hard. “I'm so sorry. I know you miss your mother too. Don't cry.”
What? This wasn't about missing his mother. Ao'nung frowned, trying to push away, but he was far too weak. His father crushed him to himself. Oddly, Ao'nung missed this, when he was little and when papa's hugs meant that nothing bad could hurt him anymore. He felt little now, being talked to like this.
“I know what will make you feel better,” Tonowari rubbed Ao'nung's arm with one hand. The other presented the shell top. “Put this on. I'm sure it will make you feel closer to your mother again.”
The boy blinked slowly. It was so hard for thoughts to form: lack of sleep, lack of food, his father's gentle names. He sniffed, then curled his thin fingers around the vines.
He was not sure why he did it, but he pulled it over his head. The shells rested over the small ridges of his ribs. The top was made with a woman's figure in mind, not a malnourished boy's, so the shells didn't cover his nipples. The vines held the faint scent of her floral oil she would always use. Ao'nung wondered if this was the first time his father pulled it out since she died. When he looked up again, he was startled by the change in his father's eyes.
“You look so beautiful, my love,” Tonowari breathed, unable to look away from his son. “Almost exactly like your mother. You just need her bottoms.”
Before Ao'nung could protest, Tonowari was already searching for them. A soft, purple and red leaf loincloth with pearly beads dangling from the sides to emphasize hips that he did not have. When he brought it up to Ao'nung, he grew warm in the cheeks.
“I-I can dress myself,” he whispered in embarrassment.
“No, it will be faster this way. I am already here, anyway.”
His father leaned close enough to feel warm gusts of breath along his tummy as he reached behind to unlace the strings around the base of his tail. That heat seemed to spread, and Ao'nung found himself growing damp against his will. When the loincloth dropped, he gasped, quickly flying to cover his privates.
“Come now, my son. It is nothing I haven't seen before,” Tonowari cooed, spreading his massive hands across the sharp points of Ao'nung's hips. They dragged down, which didn't help his confusion and arousal, curling around his wrists to pull them away. Tonowari tied his mother's loincloth on before stepping back to look at the finished product.
“There we are… like a vision of your mother.”
Ao'nung stood, trembling, knees bent slightly inward to stave off this odd heat he felt. Shame and guilt boiled for thinking such weird things. He only wanted to make his father happy.
Tonowari looked up at him with predatory eyes. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Ao'nung whispered.
“Your mother would say yes, my love, I am fine. Can you say that for me?”
This was not his father anymore, Ao'nung realized with confused tears springing to his eyes.
“Father, I do not think this is right-”
“Say yes my love.”
Once again, a lump formed, his tongue wet and words sticky when he spoke again.
“...yes, my love,” he trembled, “I am fine.”
Heavy silence fell, the only sound being Ao'nung's teeth chattering and Tonowari's heavy breathing.
“I have missed you so much, Ronal.”
His father suddenly crowded him against the wall, making Ao'nung shout. He felt his father nuzzling his nose into the frail slope of his collarbone, hungry kisses following soon after along the soft line of his neck. Then there was a tongue flicking out to taste his rapid pulse.
“Father!” Ao'nung cried out, unable to keep the heat from flying down his veins to gush in his mother's loincloth. He was terrified; his fist beat weakly at his chest to get him to stop, but to no avail.
Tonowari growled against Ao'nung's slim throat- a sound he'd never heard before that startled him cold. That word pulled Tonowari from his fantasy dream and into harsh reality.
“You will address me as my love or my darling tonight. Do you hear me?”
Without waiting for an answer, he slipped back into that dark part of his mind, his hand sliding back to knead his wife's plump cheeks. The other dragged up past her protruding ribs to her small breasts. Much smaller than he remembered, but toying with the soft buds until he pulled the noise he had missed so much. Unable to resist any longer, Tonowari shoved the top off and ducked down to latch onto one of those beaded nipples.
“Ah!” Ao'nung cried out, feeling too hot everywhere with nowhere to alleviate what pressure he felt.
As if his father heard his thoughts, a thick, warm thigh pushed up between Ao'nung's legs with big hands curling around his hips to force him to rock. It felt like lightning had shocked through his nerves. Ao'nung threw his head back with his eyes screwed shut, and cried out. He never felt something like this.
“You are so wet, my love, you're drenching my thigh,” Tonowari groaned huskily against the skin of his chest.
This was so wrong, so horribly wrong and yet Ao'nung couldn't help but drag his cunt over his father's thigh.
“Tell me you want me to eat you out, sweetheart. Tell me now.”
“What?” Ao'nung squeaked weakly, burning even an even brighter red.
“I missed that sweet cunt so much. Come, now, let me taste it again.”
Before he knew it, he was being raised up effortlessly and laid down to spread along the bedsheets like a meal for a king. Ao'nung quickly clamped his thighs together in embarrassment only to be pried back apart by his father's iron grip. Try as he might, but he was far too weak to fight the man. He gave up and let them fall open.
Having Ao'nung's legs still in his grasp, he slid his hand up his small calf and began worshipping the plate of his knee bone with his lips, lingering against the fragile skin, trailing up the squirming thigh trying to get away. When Tonowari got to the juncture of his sharp hip bone and thigh, he buried his nose in and breathed in deeply.
Ao'nung let out a quiet noise of protest. There was no doubt his father could pick up the scent of his slick behind his clothes. The loincloth was slowly dragged down his bony hips. Then the panic set in.
“Wait-wait, father, please, wait,” he begged breathlessly.
A sharp smack! bloomed across Ao'nung's thigh, making the boy yelp. It echoed in the small room and already left a pulsing hand print that would only grow darker. His eyes went wide, blinking out of his daze and up towards his father. What looked back was a terrifying man whose eyes were darker than his shadow, jaw set in place. A man who was grieving, just like him, only in a different way.
“Do not say that word when I have you like this. You are my wife, I want you to act like it. Do you understand?” Tonowari growled.
Ao'nung trembled under his hands. “Yes, father-”
Another hit cut him off. It was in the same spot as the last. The scolding, the harsh punishment, the disappointed look from his father all snapped Ao'nung into pieces, shattering him. Tears fell- he was so scared and broken, and here his father was, being so mean.
“Y-yes, darling!” Ao'nung cried, rubbing his sore spot. “Yes, darling, I'm sorry- I'm so sorry…”
A fissure cracked through Tonowari's cold demeanor, a small moment of clarity. He curled over the trembling boy to kiss away his tears, shushing and rocking him.
“It pains me just as much as it pains you,” he whispered with more kisses. “Make this easier for both of us and listen. Can you do that for me?”
Ao'nung nodded. “Yes, darling.”
A deep purr of approval rumbled from the man. Ao'nung watched his eyes grow unfocused as he knelt back down, burrowing his wide shoulders to force Ao'nung's legs apart. They dangled uselessly at the man's sides.
“Good. No more slip-ups.” Tonowari dragged his wife's loincloth down his slim legs. It was drenched in a cherry slick, strings stretching between the cloth and Ao'nung's soft pussy. When Tonowari looked at his meal, another guttural groan sounded. Lilac colored Ao'nung's lips, shiny with his arousal, and the hood covering his clit was stretched taut and an angry red.
The man felt a sudden rush flood down to his sheathed cock. His wife looked as beautiful as the day she left him. Without waiting another moment, Tonowari leaned in and kissed his wife's slick lips, hot breath wafting over her clit and making her slim thighs clamp around his head. He eased her back open with a deep chuckle. He didn't remember her being so shy, but it did not matter. What mattered is that he had her laying before him, wet and ready.
“Mawey, angel,” Tonowari mumbled, then dragged another open-mouthed kiss to the other side of her slick flower. His thick fingers spread her pussy lips wide open so her cunt would milk the air, hungry for more.
Ao'nung felt dizzy. The sight of his father between his legs was more than he could handle. He jerked his head to the side, half burying it into the pillow to quiet his noises, but even that didn't quell them.
A cry tore from Ao'nung's throat when he felt a sudden warm suction directly on his clit. His cherry bud was pinched between his father's lips, tongue lashing furiously along it. Ao'nung wasn't ready for the sudden pleasure- he thought he would be teased some more. It curled his back off the bed, sent a sharp tremor through his thighs, then tried to clamp around his head once more. His father only hummed his warning around his slick bud, the vibrations adding another layer of blinding pleasure which sent his body into shock.
Something was happening inside of Ao'nung, something deep he had never felt before. An ache festered seemingly in the base of his pelvis, carved within the bone. It pulsed rapidly, almost like a second heartbeat, but embedded deep, and seemed to be growing bigger.
As all this was happening, Tonowari lapped eagerly below. The noises of Ao'nung and his own messy eating were loud in his ears. His hand rested over Ao'nung's lower belly, right over the spot he remembered drove his wife mad, then pressed. One… two… three… Then let up, one, two. Then pressed again, one… two… three…
Ao'nung's sharp knee accidentally smacked Tonowari's temple amidst his pleasure, making him pop! off his swollen clit, panting heavily. Slick drenched his mouth and chin despite having only played with his clit. He looked down at all of the juices being wasted soaked into the sheets, so he dove back in to taste ambrosia from the source. His broad tongue swept through Ao'nung's cunt, parting the lips with his enthusiasm, and dragging the swollen bud roughly. He managed to catch another one of Ao'nung's kicks in time before it connected to his head again.
His wife tasted sweeter, gushed more than he remembered. Though he did not complain, it pulled him slightly from his fantasy. Tonowari pushed this away. He was with his wife who smelled like cherries, welcoming him home with the soft embrace of her womanhood and love.
Tonowari groaned at the fantasy his broken mind supplied and shook his head further into Ao'nung's cunt, smearing his slick around without care. His tongue swiped thrice from perineum to clit, then swirled lazily around his hole, coaxing more of his sweetness to spill.
“Mm, Ronal… I missed your taste,” Tonowari groaned wetly into his soft pussy. His thumbs massaged deeply into the soft crevices where his thigh met his pussy- a hidden spot his wife loved that always loosened her flower. When it worked like he knew it would, he snaked his tongue deep inside.
Ao'nung's whine ripped loudly, his shaking hand yanking his father's curls as waves wracked his depleted body. That warm tongue pulled out, and with it, more slick to wetten the bed. He switched between deeply fucking his tongue inside his milking cunt, and suckling his clit until Ao'nung was crying.
On the fourth round of Tonowari's repeated torture, he slowly sank a thick finger in to curl against his frontal wall, and Ao'nung saw white.
He came with a silent scream, his chin tipped up and his mouth wide open, gushing wave after wave into Tonowari's hungry mouth. His father continued to slide his tongue over his clit, feeling the clench of his lower belly and the pulses throughout Ao'nung's entire pussy. It left Ao'nung shaking, whimpering when pleasure turned borderline painful.
As Ao'nung's tremors subsided, Tonowari pulled back, panting heavily, bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck clean without breaking eye contact. The other hand reached behind to untie his own loincloth. Tonowari let his dick spring loose after yanking the fabric down. It slapped heavily against his abs, dripping precum down the length. The man broke their intimate eye-fucking to trail down, Ao'nung's own hazy eyes following, and what he saw had his breath catching and his cunt squeezing around nothing.
With the way his father loomed over Ao'nung, his thick cock rested where he would be if he were to sink himself deep inside of him. Wide at the base, jutting proudly from its sheath of slick lips. Along the flesh-colored length lay a vein, pumping hungrily. And the head. An angry, flushed pink that constantly dripped precum and rested just below Ao'nung's bellybutton.
The boy took a shaky breath, praying to the Great Mother that his father didn't want to go all the way. He was afraid he would be torn in half if he slid only half his cock inside.
With heavy eye contact, Tonowari began to stroke himself to the sight of his wife lying before him.
The man said nothing, but his ragged breaths and the wet sounds of his slow pumping filled the silence. His hand was big, and yet it somehow seemed dwarfed by the size of his dick. A dark part of Ao'nung's mind wondered how it would look if he tried to stroke his father off. Tonowari seemed to be savoring the sight before him; his eyes roamed all over, making him fight the urge to arch his chest out. Some part of his brain wanted his father to be pleased with what he saw, how he reacted, how he sounded. Slightly boldened, Ao'nung shakily reached down with one hand to spread his sticky cunt while the other fumbled a bit to knead his small breast, putting on a show to hopefully aid in his completion.
It did the trick; Tonowari's eyes fluttered with a groan, and his fist began to pump a little faster. On the upstroke, he thumbed his tip, squirting a small bead of precum.
“Gorgeous,” Tonowari praised, husky and deep. “Just like your mother.”
Ao'nung let out a soft moan, not knowing if being as provocative as he was would mean leaving this bedroom walking funny or not. He wanted more praise, but he did not want to be fucked. His eyes snapped wide open when his father suddenly readjusted himself against Ao'nung, thinking he'd done too much- that this would be how he lost his virginity. He could feel the press of their hips together, too close for comfort now. He quickly tried to sit up, but Tonowari gently pushed him back down.
“Shh, lay back for me, my love, I am not going to do anything. Yes, just like that… so good for me…”
It was rare that Ao'nung was praised by his father. He hated how quickly he seemed to preen with it.
Tonowari then slid his thick cock between Ao'nung's pussy lips. It never penetrated him, but it was a disgusting grind. Each slow thrust kissed Ao'nung's swollen clit, making him jolt in shock. Tonowari's fist held his base as he fucked all the way through his hand and parted Ao'nung's cunt with his head. All the while, his eyes never left the boy under him.
In no time at all, Tonowari's lazy thrusts led him to the end. His muscles tensed hard- Ao'nung could see his abs flex and his arms tensed to not grip and bruise him- then came in waves, spilling all over Ao'nung's caved tummy, some even flying to catch Ao'nung's chin.
Time stood still. They were both panting, dizzy with reality settling back in once the fantasy and adrenaline of it all wore off. Darkness settled back in those eyes of his. It seemed endless to Ao'nung. It hurt to see his father like this. Tonowari lowered his head. He could no longer look at him, and that hurt even worse than any wound inflicted. All that had been built up shattered in front of Tonowari, the mirror of his wife warped back into his son who looked like he was swimming in the sheets. The shells slipped off from the bed and cracked against the floor when reality hit him like a freight train. Tonowari stood abruptly.
Ao'nung's ears flattened when he watched his father head towards the door, his mother's shell top in hand.
“Papa?” Ao'nung reached out.
Tonowari froze in the doorway. That word, something his little Ao'nung used to call him, drove a spear through his heart. It had been untouched for years, a bird he thought had flown out of the cage years ago. He sounded as small as he did back then.
“I should not have-” Tonowari took in a shuddering breath.
With quiet feet, Ao'nung rose to stand, fighting the tremble in his legs as he grew closer.
“Forgive me, I-” the man pinched between his brow. “I do not know what came over me. Eywa, forgive me, I am so sorry-”
“It's okay, papa” Ao'nung interrupted.
He placed his hand on Tonowari's shoulder, but the man took a step back as if it seeped poison.
“I miss her too,” he added, quieter.
Still, Tonowari couldn't meet his eyes. Shame held in his rigid shoulders and turned face. When he finally did speak, he sounded defeated.
“I will leave you now. Forgive me-”
“No!” Ao'nung quickly grabbed his father's arm. “Papa, do not leave me, please. I've been so sad,” he choked on a rising sob that seemed to come from nowhere. “I missed your hugs and kisses. Please, stay.”
Ao'nung's fingers were trembling horribly, clutching Tonowari. He opened his mouth to speak again, but it came out a weak sob. He crumpled into his father's back, wetting the skin with his heavy tears.
The man closed his eyes in restraint. He sounded so little. His sweet, little boy, crying from no hugs or love from his father. Tonowari couldn't stand it any longer. He turned around in a flash and smothered Ao'nung against his chest. One hand cradled the back of his head and the other wrapped tightly around his slim body.
“I am so sorry,” Tonowari whispered against his loose curls. He kissed his forehead firmly. “I should have noticed sooner. I should have been there.”
The two stood in the doorway, glued together and breathing. Small kisses were pressed to Ao'nung's cheek, and in return, he kissed his father back.
“I will stay,” Tonowari decided softly, feeling the response of his son sagging with relief. “We should bathe.”
Ao'nung looked down at the mess splattered on his soft skin and winced.
“Agreed.”
After tying on their loincloths, the two headed beyond the village and towards the private waters of the beach. It was too far for young ones to play, so there was usually no one around. Along the way, Tonowari noticed his son clinging to his arm, wrapped tightly. Even when they sunk into the water, Ao'nung stuck closely. The man sat in the shallow pool with the other sitting between his legs. He scooped water to wash his chest off gently, mindful of the marks he'd sucked into his neck and around his nipples. Ao'nung hummed happily anyway, eyes shut.
“You have always been affectionate, even since you were little,” Tonowari noted fondly, watching his son preen under the massage.
“Mama said it was her favorite thing about me.”
The boy turned his head with a smile so bright, it rivaled the sun halo around him. Tonowari smiled back.
“It is mine, too.”