Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

[You look so fine

I want to… break your heart

And give you mine]

“Can you feel it?” Neteyam asks, a little breathless.

“What?” Ao’nung’s voice is soft, low as a whisper that wouldn't be heard if Neteyam weren't so close. Neteyam is glued to him, legs wrapped around his waist and hands touching his chest, finding comfort in the discomfort just to be close enough to his heartbeat.

It’s like a miracle. Ao’nung is real, and Neteyam can touch him. He can feel Ao'nung's pulse when sliding a hand from his tattooed chin to his neck. The muscle throbs under the slight touch, so Neteyam rests his fingers near the curly hair of his nape.

“It is like I suffocate. Something is squeezing me so tight I can hardly breathe… Is that you?” Once again, the breath escalates, a bit restless as if he’s longing. He actually is.

“Don’t know.” Ao'nung is sincere. While his hand is around Neteyam’s back, the other holds the Omatikaya’s leg. He's holding tight, but not enough to hurt.

“I think it is our string.” 

Neteyam’s whisper blows with the breeze, without response, once Ao'nung’s eyes are already shut. He is too tired to listen, Neteyam too tired to explain, so he lets Ao’nung’s lazy breathing drive him into a nap like a lullaby that would remind him of home. 

Ao’nung doesn’t smell like the forest, but Neteyam feels like it.

The forest used to embrace Neteyam in a tight grip, giving him a sense of belonging and of being owned by something he couldn’t grasp. For a long time, he believed nothing could be bigger than that feeling, then he met Ao’nung. Eywa gave him the power to mess with Neteyam’s senses unconsciously, but forgot to give Neteyam the self-control to tame what is inside him.

When he opens his eyes and sees Ao’nung’s dormant face, it’s enough to trigger his desperate need. Ao’nung’s scent is tangy and sharp as if the air were made of it. Neteyam wants to indulge himself with it. He holds his breath for long enough to hurt his lungs. His veins struggle with the blood circulation, and his eyes are about to pop out. Now he can inhale deeply and absorb the musky scent that is all he needs to survive this night. 

Neteyam can’t prevent the metallic taste in his mouth when he bites his tongue as a punishment. That longing is wrong and twisted; however, Neteyam doesn’t know how to do it any other way. 

He doesn’t want it either. 

After all, nothing can disturb him more than noticing the light bathing their naked bodies losing its saturation - an indication that the eclipse will start soon. 

It's hard to let go of Ao'nung. There's mingled sweat involuntarily sticking to their skin. Ao'nung's fingers are still holding tight to the bone of Neteyam’s knee, wanting to make sure the Omatikaya doesn’t go anywhere when he is asleep. Quite a misconception, once Neteyam doesn't even know if he’s capable of taking the next step - a feeling he got quite used to.

When he lies on his stomach against the warm sand, he uses his elbows as support to have a better view. 

There is peace in watching Ao’nung there, absorbed by the dreams Neteyam is not worth knowing about. Ao’nung already has a mate - a mate who is not Neteyam -, still, he continuously takes any available opportunity to bend Neteyam over on the sand. 

It has been like this for an odd bit of time. Years. None of them can understand what happens, Ao’nung can’t run from it; Neteyam certainly doesn’t want to. But he does have a theory.

It’s like a string wrapped around his body in a strong grip; it could tickle and squeeze until it suffocates. But if he tries to unwind the string, he realizes it’s attached to his body, embedded in his skin as an extension of him. The other end is also attached to Ao'nung's body. 

Every time Neteyam tries to move away to break the string, it grows stronger and wraps itself around his body with an even tighter grip. Thinking about it drives him crazy every time he wakes up.

Sometimes Neteyam wishes he were dead, Koro - Ao’nung’s mate. Sometimes he wishes to die too. Sometimes it still hurts quite a bit, but it only serves to tie them together a little more, to make the string even tighter. The concept may be hard to grasp in its fullness, but he is certain that only love can hurt like this.

No one goes there. It’s hot and humid, it’s unhealthy, just like everything about their thing. There is no fish in the water, and the vegetation grows messy and potentially toxic. There are rocks building the landscape, projecting shadows to give the daylight some perspective. 

It’s an interesting scene to watch, but Neteyam’s eyes soon return to Ao’nung. He must watch Ao’nung’s peaceful sleep and listen to his breathing. Things haven’t been easy for him as the next one in line. It’s not something Ao’nung chose, but something that has to be done. 

It’s like this, it’s like them. 

An urge for this disastrous feeling that glues them together to the point of exhaustion. It is not comfortable every time; sometimes it is quick, sometimes it is dry, sometimes it is rough. However, anything is valid for waking up in that embrace, with legs and arms tangled, glued skins and sweaty hair.

Neteyam doesn’t know when he starts or where Ao’nung ends when they fuck. It’s like his body was made to have him inside, deep, and until the last drop. That would explain the desolation feeling when he is not, the constant longing for more of him, even when there is nothing left.

It makes him believe they mix up sometimes. A little bit of Ao'nung always stays in him after he leaves, sticking to his body and senses in every way possible. However, that just makes the eventual separation even more painful. 

Neteyam hates the idea. 

Perhaps what he feels is too big. Perhaps, he’s too demanding, and on nights like that, everything seems more intense.

He looks so fine. Neteyam runs his fingertips over Ao’nung’s high cheekbones as an appreciation of how much he loves them; they give the reef Na’vi his manly features, making him as beautiful as the impossible when he smiles. The mere remembrance of it makes Neteyam indulge in some sort of internal pleasure, one that makes his nerves tickle and his blood boil. He should stop before a nosebleed. 

The small curls of Ao’nung’s hair stick to his skin thanks to the sweat. He must be tired of his highly demanding routine with each passing day. Neteyam should be grateful for those borrowed moments, for the nights they swim and watch the stars before he can kiss all the freckles of Ao’nung’s body and convince himself he doesn’t have anything like this with the other man in his life. 

The coping does not always help when the ache has no remedy.

It’s not because Neteyam loves him; Neteyam certainly does. This is bigger than love or whatever feeling his heart could project.

Ao’nung loves him too, and it surely makes everything worse. For Ao’nung, for him.

He was not made for it. Love, mating… He was made for duty, and he has been loyal to his nature, to the war he inherited from his father, to the emblem of the mighty warrior he was born to be. He flies high and cuts the wind like no one else, but it’s cold up there. It’s cold anywhere without Ao’nung’s arms. 

Neteyam is a great warrior, but it surely comes with a cost: there isn’t enough space for anything else.

Now he thinks about the early years and about the place where he came from. 

The forest, home. 

The forest holds a story about an invisible fence stretching around all its extension, one that every creature should have respect for: it determined not only the territory, but the limits. No Na’vi and no animal knew what was beyond the fence, and ideally, nobody tried to find out. However, a naive and insecure little boy disobeyed this absolute truth. He slipped between the invisible halves of the fence, and there he was, in the middle of the motionless fog with the wind whipping through his hair. 

And that was what happened, the fog and wind forming the best definition of nothingness, swallowed him. The boy never came back, and nobody ever found out about anything. Not even if that was really the end of the boy, or if it was a new beginning. 

Neteyam’s mind is so clear about that memory that he could recount it in detail. He always imagines what the fence would look like, if it cuts or burns when you go through. For a long time, he couldn’t think about anything scarier, but now he knows what that meant. 

He disobeyed the fence and deliberately went an extra mile. Not out of stubbornness or pride, but out of love. To love Ao'nung is to disobey the fence.

It’s so insane. Neteyam never thought someone would be able to love him either. To love him was not in Eywa’s will. Still, Ao’nung did. Ao’nung gave him his heart, even knowing he would never see Neteyam’s soul. Neteyam gives him his body because he knows his heart is already corrupt. 

Ao’nung is a good man, so much better than him, he supposes. 

He has a good heart. One Neteyam is fascinated by. 

So he touches Ao’nung’s chest, hand open, feeling the gentle movement of his large ribcage breathing. Neteyam closes his eyes and can go deeper. Tudum. Tudum. His heartbeat is like a melody. 

He would like to see it - Ao’nung’s heart -, touch it with his lips in a gentle kiss. 

When he kisses Ao’nung’s chest, a deep, pleasurable, and desperate agony reveals itself in touch. He’s so absorbed by it to the point it takes a while for him to figure out Ao’nung is touching his hair, making the beads on his braids produce a distinct sound. 

Neteyam slowly turns to him, still lying on his skin - always so warm despite being naked. His hand holds Neteyam’s face, and that touch, no matter how tender, causes the same sensation of a thorn against the fragility of wet skin. Still, it's so good. Especially when he slides his fingers to Neteyam’s chin and gives it a slight squeeze. Lips quiver.

“Still no sleep?”

“No,” Neteyam whispers. “I was afraid you wouldn't be here when I woke up.” He admits. Ao'nung shows him a frown, letting his hand slip through the metallic accessory within Neteyam’s braids. 

Neteyam made it long ago with a bullet from Sky People’s weaponry, to always remind him of what almost killed him. Feeling the icy metal against hot skin always causes a slight shock upon contact, but that’s the exact reaction Neteyam was aiming for.

No sensation is more intense than Ao’nung’s hands on him. Even though there is little light covering them, for a moment, Ao’nung seems to be the only thing coloring the space Neteyam’s eyes can reach.

“And why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. It’s not so easy to stay with me when you have so much to do, right?”

“I care about you.” It’s true. He wouldn't be there if he didn't care.

Neteyam clings to him, even when he doesn’t answer. 

With a last glance, he can see the eclipse is starting, and that would be the last time he would see Ao'nung for a long time. “You think you still have time for me?” 

His eyes return to Ao’nung, noticing he wants to appreciate the silence too; his hands touch Neteyam’s forearms, starting a hug that the Omatikaya certainly doesn’t refuse. 

He wants Neteyam close; Neteyam wants him inside.

The urge to sleep is absent when they are gently touching each other. Neteyam lets his fingertips travel across Ao'nung's nipple. It's so small and perfect, tempting him to circle it. He knows Ao’nung likes that, once his heartbeat gets faster and his breathing escalates. 

Sometimes Neteyam thinks they are designed for it. Eywa made them for touching each other comfortably. To give each other pleasure, to cry together when needed…

“They taught us how to cut vines back in the forest. Knife made of animal tooth. You must not use metal, not at that age. But it is hard to cut the vine. Impossible even.” Neteyam explains, softly. “Some things must not be cut.”

Ao’nung smiles, and there is a frown on his face when he spits air out of his mouth. “What this means?”

“I think The Great Mother put something inside us all, to connect. In you and me, a string that pulls us together.”

Ao'nung can feel Neteyam against him. Euphoric with visions of the past and future flooding his mind, to the point of feeling his insides burn. Ao’nung doesn’t replicate; he just smiles at Neteyam, completely infatuated. “I just feel like this.” 

Neteyam snuggles up to Ao'nung once again and brings him to sit on the sand comfortably by his side. He sits on his heels while looking at Ao’nung and thinking that everything, every little event, was pushing them towards each other. A force he can’t quite comprehend or name, it just exists, and it’s bigger than anything else. 

If Neteyam could ask Eywa anything, he would want to know if Ao’nung feels the same or if he’s just going crazy.

Ao'nung frowns again, but this time he looks concerned. He cups Neteyam’s face with both hands, certainly feeling the Omatikaya’s trembling jaw. He watches the Forest Na’vi’s bottom lip quiver and smiles. It's a great theory, even if a little fanciful, and certainly motivated by great emotional feeling. 

Neteyam is not the type to get carried away by things like that since he needed to develop an instinct for preservation and survival from an early age. However, everything always changes when Ao’nung is holding his face, and they curiously watch each other. They are just two boys again.

Neteyam feels his toes tingling, the back of his head going numb, something recurrent whenever Ao’nung is close enough. He doesn't look any different from other people, but Neteyam’s instinct for self-preservation has never worked with him. He had already asked himself countless times why, but all the times they get close, nothing serves as a warning. 

Nothing but the tingle.

“So quiet.”

“Nothing.” Neteyam manages to smile as he faces Ao’nung, feeling a little helpless and vulnerable at the moment, but that’s what makes Ao’nung invest in another touch and hold his shoulders with a stronger grip.

His oceanic eyes are extremely beautiful with the modest light of eclipse time falling over them. They are sparkling somehow, even brighter than the day before. It's a perfect match with each one of his shining dots. Neteyam would like to kiss - every single one -, although he doesn’t quite know if he really deserves it.

“Your eyes are pretty.” Ao’nung says. “They are big and shiny… when there is no daylight, they are like the big star. It never gets dark.”

Neteyam breathes a little faster, lowering his eyes when embarrassed. Ao'nung notices a different expression before his smile. Even after all these years, after the intimacy, Neteyam still feels shy in front of him. 

“Wait, I have a thing.” Ao’nung quickly goes to where his accessories are, thrown aside by Neteyam some time earlier. He rummages through the threads of his cummerbund, taking from there a cord. Golden-yellow eyes are over him until he comes back, watching his leg angle when he kneels and forms a hole in the sand with the pressure of his heavy muscles. Neteyam likes to pay attention to every detail of Ao’nung’s physique when he moves to show the gem at the end of that cord.

It has different hues of yellow with black, and brown stripes shimmering together when he moves it. Neteyam likes the colors gathering and reflecting the bioluminescence of the night; it looks beautiful against the skin of Ao’nung’s fingers, which he is holding himself to not kiss.

“See? I always carry it with me.” Ao’nung sounds proud of it, but also tender. “It makes me think of your eyes.” Now he presses his fingers against the skin of Neteyam’s thigh in a kind of affection. Lowering his eyelids, he observes the slightly purple mark he left there, but there is more than pride in his gaze now. Neteyam can see lust and passion shining in the pale blue of his eyes. One that, he hopes, is only known by him. 

Ao'nung grabs Neteyam’s hand while kissing his forehead. This is supposed to be affection, but Neteyam can’t hold back a heavy sigh. “What?”

Neteyam would rather not answer, but he knows Ao’nung is not going to accept the silence this time. “I am glad you can carry it so you do not forget about me when you are with your other lover.”

“He is my mate, not lover.”

Neteyam understands why he gets defensive, even though it’s not the intention to attack him. Feeling hurt when he says he is mated to another Na’vi is also something Neteyam can’t help. “I’m sorry! It’s just… I don’t like sharing.”

Neteyam’s eyes widen when Ao’nung touches his cheek with the back of his hand. Somehow, a calm smile appears on the Omatikaya’s face; He breathes in as slowly as he can when the fever-like sensation hits his whole body.

“I remember everything about the day I met you. You had all those Sky People things on you. It was very ugly.” His mockery makes Neteyam chuckle; that’s the way of Ao’nung to be charming, and it mysteriously works. “I already knew it was you, when I saw you, I knew it was you.” 

Neteyam is not sure if he did. His dad was famous at that time; people should know the first son of Toruk Makto was already a full warrior. He spent time in duty with other clans and had broken some records by becoming a respected member of his clan after his rites. Although he is not sure if Ao’nung is being literal. 

Neteyam also knew it was him. He carried the sign of an heir on the necklace he wore. But since the very first moment, Neteyam knew Ao’nung was the one. 

It was a warm day, he was exhausted from the trip and was stepping on warm sand that was gripping his feet, he couldn't move. It was when he saw Ao’nung trying to intimidate him with his gaze and make him know they were in his territory.

“I remember telling Lo’ak about you. The skxawng that didn’t want to wave back.” Neteyam remarks while blinking, seeing that image of young Ao’nung shifting into the present one. 

There was so much in there, in the past, and the things they never lived. When they would just sit at the shore after a day of hunting, Ao'nung would awkwardly tuck Neteyam’s hair behind his ears or move his braids aside to treat the sunburnt on his skin. For a moment, it’s like being in that time once again, the remembrance is so vivid that Neteyam almost feels it in his bones.

Then he got shot.

The world became a different place, hostile and not safe. At that time, Neteyam still didn't know how to deal with the fact that he was so close to reaching Eywa. He was angry for being back, angry for almost going. But mostly, he was quiet. He was colder, like the flowers that bloomed over the swamps of the forest, just to be drowned by the rain.

He didn’t plan on staying there, stagnant. He didn’t want to be the one who had bad dreams, or worse, the one who would talk while sleeping but without dreaming. That’s why no one would want to be around him at that time. He was used to the space beside him being empty until Ao’nung came around.

It wasn’t difficult to know he had enough demons to deal with. His silence and inertia were clear, so as to make people stay away. He felt incompatible with the rest of the world. However, Ao’nung could never endure his silence. He wanted Neteyam’s anger but never his silence.

“Why did you talk to me? After I got shot… you already had your friends.”

“Because you were strange, Forest Boy. I felt strange too.” Strange, he says, like in passion. A strong and painful one, the type to make you lose sleep or wake up in a fever sickness that would only be solved by diving deep in the ocean.

Neteyam knows that because he feels what Ao’nung feels as if he inhabits Neteyam’s body. It’s scary and invasive, but he likes it. He wants Ao’nung to be the person who continues unraveling him and his mysteries. 

“There's been one thing since we started talking. I never really wanted to leave, maybe it's weird to say it now."

“No, it's not weird.” Neteyam guarantees. He put duty before Ao’nung… because this is who he has always been. “I was born to fight, for the war. Not for mating or having a family.”

“I always wanted to be more like you... how you do it, even when you bleed after a battle, your face stops and you move on.” Ao'nung sighs, in a mixture of fascination and intrigue. “Sometimes I just hate not being able to do that.”

His hands went through Neteyam’s skin, touching now the scar on the chest. Neteyam has to squint his eyes when his vision starts to crystallize, and soon enough, there is a big, beautiful, but pathetic smile on Ao’nung’s lips.

Neteyam can't quite articulate the words to answer when trapped in those seconds in time. He was about to send his tenderness for life to hell, and just let their eyes watch each other for eternity. There is something else there, and it’s life-altering enough to make it different.

“You talked back to me. Why?” Ao’nung asks.

“You are special.”

It hurts to breathe as if the space between the walls of Neteyam’s throat is tight. The feeling that everything could come crashing down at any moment is inevitable, but since Ao’nung is there, he stops feeling afraid. Sometimes it’s like he gives structure to everything that happens... the center of Neteyam’s world. A little ridiculous, he must admit.

There is enough silence so Ao’nung leans against Neteyam to kiss his chin. It's impossible not to stop for a moment to pay attention to those ocean eyes. Neteyam would possibly have lost himself in that look if Ao’nung hadn't kissed him in the mouth.

And when they kiss like that, the whole world seems to be made by the two of them.

Instinctively, Ao'nung is pulling Neteyam closer, trying to get more contact as the kiss intensifies. However, when Neteyam soon starts to kiss his neck, Ao'nung takes his lips to the edge of Neteyam’s ear, lightly biting between the earring stone and the skin. 

Ao'nung might be suspicious about Neteyam’s next move, but he’s not so unpredictable.

Neteyam still has a sore throat from last time, but he can't find a better way to do this. Ao'nung is so warm right now, and Neteyam can't contain his hands or the desire to suck him. 

He pushes Ao’nung to lie on the sand, a bit impatient when he just needs to lubricate them well before anything else. Neteyam slides his tongue through Ao’nung’s collarbone, dripping saliva on the muscles of his chest and circling his navel with his tongue. He hears Ao’nung’s breath get short and grabs his length to lick all his extension.

It tastes good and salty, Neteyam can feel the texture as soon as he swallows it, ultimately nibbling on the thin skin to make Ao'nung sigh. It is evident with every muffled moan escaping Ao'nung's lips that he is sensitive to the very first touch. But even that doesn't stop him from grabbing Neteyam’s hair to make him suck faster and deeper, until he’s pulsing against Neteyam’s cheek. 

Neteyam pauses for a moment to suck the fingers of his free hand as he needs to finger himself. He knows how dangerous it is, but he can't control what he’s doing at this point. 

A mix of melancholy and excitement hits Neteyam’s heart as soon as he realizes himself hard yet untouched. An urge to cry comes with it, with the urge to make Ao'nung come into his mouth. It's already leaking against his lips whilst his fingers are going inside himself at the same pace as he sucks Ao’nung.

Ao'nung now holds Neteyam's hand, intertwining their fingers, watching him carefully suck up and down and finish with a last lick around the tip. 

The intimacy is quite lovely.

Something about seeing Ao'nung hard at the same time as he looks so vulnerable is so impressive. He is so handsome, Neteyam almost feels sorry for sitting on him like that. However, it’s somehow worth it when their bodies stick from sweat and saliva, and Neteyam feels Ao'nung's hands touching the back of his thighs.

“Great mother…” Ao'nung whispers.

“What?”

“Nothing… just cannot breathe when you sit on me,” Ao'nung says, sliding his fingers over Neteyam's right nipple, getting it hard under his thumb. 

Neteyam knows it’s easy for Ao'nung to dissociate from the moment now; his mind is all over the place, looking for a fixation. Hard nipples seem like a good idea, but Neteyam is still undecided whether to be worried or not when he grabs Ao'nung's face with both hands and forces him to look into his eyes.

“Nung… are you okay?” He finally asks. “It's okay if you changed your mind. I mean, I don’t want to force you into anything, because…”

“No… Neteyam, you are perfect! It’s just that I don’t have enough hands.” That is endearing, makes Neteyam disconcerted, and also a bit angry. He hates being so moved by anything Ao'nung says, by any compliment or mockery comment, any fucking touch. 

As he leans forward, he deeply looks into Ao'nung's eyes before he whispers. “Skxawng.” 

He kisses Ao'nung's forehead. The pressure of his lips certainly affects the fragile turquoise skin of his lover, but he knows Ao'nung doesn't care. In fact, Neteyam knows how much Ao'nung likes this, considering how he touches the back of his neck. At that point, he can hardly breathe, when he notices Ao'nung is also restless. “Are you shivering?”

“What am I supposed to do, Forest Boy?”

Neteyam smiles, completely satisfied. Nothing would make him happier than seeing Ao'nung reacting to his caresses like that. He is so anxiously in love and excited that he needs to kiss Ao’nung again. This time on the mouth.

Neteyam kisses as good as Ao'nung fucks. Which is why they fit together so well, almost in metaphysical ways.

Their tongues touch slowly, and Neteyam sucks Ao'nung's lower lip before looking into his eyes again. The Metkayina is sweating profusely at the end of that kiss, and Neteyam is also at his limit when he pulls back and moves to spread his legs and land his knees on the sides of Ao'nung’s head. 

All he does afterwards is to guide his own cock through Ao'nung’s lips. It's wonderful just being there, feeling Ao'nung involuntarily suffocate with Neteyam fucking his mouth as they both breathe heavily. 

Neteyam looks as impatient and anxious as Ao'nung has often seen him in situations like that. He is a bit restless when Ao'nung increases the grip of his fingers against his skin as if those finger tips are about to tear the Omatikaya’s flesh apart.

If it was Ao'nung to do it, Neteyam couldn't wait.

He is so deliciously close. He likes the scent in the air and the taste on his lips; it’s somehow endearing, like something made to make him surrender. It’s the right moment for Ao’nung to take his hands and grab Neteyam’s tail up, spreading him open with the intention of fingering him. 

Neteyam generically tenses his body, feeling that soft invasion tuned to the sucking situation. He feels himself being massaged from the inside, and his nerve functions cannot focus only on the trivial act of his length sinking into Ao'nung's mouth. Ao'nung doesn't give him time to adjust and increases the speed a little at a time.

“Eywa…” Neteyam whispers with rather uncontrolled breathing as Ao'nung puts in another finger. His little entrance involuntarily tightens against Ao’nung’s fingers, pulling them inside.

On nights like that, they used to fuck hard, multiple times. It somehow helps to forget the heartbreak. They could be losers in the dawn, but at least, they would try anything to help each other.

When Neteyam is about to come, he pulls away and, in a second, gets back to adjust his position over Ao’nung. His legs slide on either Ao’nung’s sides, and he grabs the Metkayina’s cock to guide it into his hole. He's feeling like this, he wants this. There is not much left for them, it’s true, but Neteyam has his whole body tingling.

Ao'nung is agile enough to slide inside Neteyam. The Omatikaya moans in a needy plea out of tune. He is so close, as Ao’nung certainly is, but he wants to extend that sensation a little longer. His shoulder muscles flex as he rapidly moves up and down, bringing his hands to Ao’nung’s face. At first, this seems like an ordinary caress, but he quickly grabs Ao’nung by the neck. Ao’nung’s neck is large, so he needs both hands to now impose his strength. That makes him so turned on that he can’t control himself from squeezing it to stop Ao’nung’s breathing. 

His Omatikaya building gives him significant arm strength. That explained very well why he managed to squeeze Ao’nung's neck so hard with small hands. 

Neteyam feels the strong grip of Ao'nung’s fingers over his hips and around his tail, the cock sliding into him with short, rapid strokes. He shivers when it happens and starts to go up and down, feeling the pulse of Ao'nung getting stronger inside. He actually wants to go faster and faster, listen to the small noises of the waves hitting the shore, and the sound of his bones against Ao'nung's bones. 

He doesn't want to think that it will end soon, but insists on going down, collaborating with that wonderful grip and that wetness, that sweat and slow, agonizing orgasm. He just needs one or two rides and, finally, without even touching himself, he comes.

It’s all so messy; his fluids fall over Ao’nung’s belly as he finally lets go of Ao’nung’s neck. Neteyam feels his mind explode as the endorphin hits; he isn't properly breathing during that orgasm, which nearly drives him crazy. It is like feeling himself jumping from a cliff, without ikran to catch him… he doesn’t know where he is going to land.

Ao'nung is moving his hips up, hitting him from below. It’s hard and hot, Neteyam can feel the gravity helping Ao’nung’s movements. He is saying something, Neteyam could see his lips moving, but he can't hear anything. That post-orgasm sensation absorbs him, and the only thing that exists is the agony of not being able to breathe with Ao'nung finally coming inside him. 

Neteyam feels him stiffen for those last pumps, patient until Ao’nung finishes. The warmth slowly increases with the sweat and friction of their skin. Even when Ao’nung pulls out, it’s an euphoric feeling on its own. Both are exhausted, but he needs it, his aim to have mind-blowing, passionate sex with Ao'nung seems to be the only thing keeping Neteyam out of reality.

While falling onto the ground beside Ao’nung, Neteyam feels the cold sand glueing to the skin of his back. He thinks about that, he thinks about them. He likes feeling that Ao'nung is his. Right now, he doesn’t think about the fact that Ao’nung is mated to someone else; he is so sure in every single piece of his body that Ao’nung belongs to him.

“Did you… did you miss me?” Neteyam asks, his voice a little shaky, a little needy.

“Every single day.” Ao'nung does that thing with his voice that makes everything different. It’s like he is talking in another language, one of his own. When he touches Neteyam’s face, he looks worried, but Neteyam, still panting, soon reassures him by holding his hands and kissing each of them. Not even the sweet act prevents Ao’nung from making an infamous joke. “Mighty Warrior really likes to ride.”

Neteyam giggles, tired. “Taming tough animals is my specialty.”

“You were also made for this.” Not only for war. Ao’nung doesn’t say, but that’s what Neteyam thinks.

Neteyam remembers the day he got back to the reef. His loyalty to his father made him lead ikran riders back in the forest for years, and that was what he wanted. After all, he was made for that, as he believed, and everyone believed so. His family, his clan, all the people at that point. He survived the shot for a reason, and as a warrior, fighting should be the reason to live.

There wasn’t a goodbye. Ao’nung didn’t ask him to stay; no promises were made, but Neteyam couldn’t conceive the pain in his heart when he found out Ao’nung was mated to another Na’vi.

Koro had everything he wanted, but still, he found reasons to hate Neteyam’s presence, even though Neteyam was there only for duty. Neteyam remembers it was on one of those occasions that they started all that. 

The Metkayina would hold hunting parties to which Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Tuk would be invited. 

Despite the insistence, Lo’ak wasn’t the type to confraternize with others. They had a silent respect for him as the one to convince the Tulkun council to change their ways, to fight for them. Tuk would get drunk quite frequently, and Neteyam would be surprised by how much she got from their father while growing up. She would be a good addition to the reef hunters. They loved her, her strength and tenacity. Somehow, she had the best of both of their parents. Tuk was one of them at the very moment she tamed her first Tsurak years ago.

As for Neteyam, he wasn’t one of them before he left; he also wasn’t one of them when he came back. He would partake in the parties anyway. It had to do with Neteyam's easy-going nature; he had always been sociable, noble, and polite. People would like his presence and gaze at him with admiration whenever he passed by. They would have a shy smile or a nod as a response, and Neteyam would find a way to get away from the crowd.

He liked the bonfires, the conversation was fun, and the hunters would tell stories. However, the many silhouettes the fire would cover with its dance wouldn’t prevent him from seeing Koro and Ao’nung. They would sit together, and Koro would wrap his arms around Ao’nung, his hands would touch Ao’nung’s back, and he would rest his head on Ao’nung’s shoulder. 

Neteyam didn’t remember the last time he saw an example of public display of affection like this. Ao’nung didn’t seem to reprove it, Koro was his mate in the end. They were bonded before Eywa, a thing beyond sacred which couldn’t be undone.

For Neteyam, it should be okay. He was used to be alone. So, walking through the foliage until feeling the warm and humid sand under his feet would be a good idea. He was tired, and the tall rocks offered him a place to rest his back. The body was hurting as if he had nerves exposed. He would like to believe it was a physical response, when in fact, he didn’t know if it was just a response.

Neteyam thought about flying away again, at least for some hours. It could lead him to believe none of that was important and nothing could ever affect him. 

He rested his hand against the tall rock and was about to lead the other to move the loincloth and finally pass some water, but he soon sensed another presence. “Can I pee in peace?” He asked, but Ao’nung still watched him after a small chuckle.

“Go ahead.”

It would have to stay for another time. He knew what Ao’nung wanted to say. He was there to talk about more than peeing; his eyes were loud enough. Neteyam didn’t need any explanation, and he should know how difficult it was for Ao’nung to even build a sentence worth being heard. The crackling of the bonfire in the distance sounded like a better noise.

Neteyam didn’t want to discuss that now, never. There was nothing to discuss. Decisions were made, and consequences came from them.

“You got really strong.” Ao’nung complimented. Neteyam avoided looking him in the eye, but with the mere glance, he could count the dots of his face without effort. Ao’nung also got strong, taller than him, bigger. Enough to provide some shadow when he moved forward to get closer.

“You too.”

As he returned the compliment, Ao’nung’s smile reached his eyes, changing any bad idea in his mind. Ao’nung would be many things, from silly to aggressive, but when he smiled... Neteyam couldn't react. He did not want to. “I am grateful for what you did for me during my recovery time.” 

He didn’t plan to sound so condescending; he was also trying to avoid Ao’nung from feeling any kind of guilt. Once Ao’nung nodded, maybe it worked.

“We are happy to have you back.”

Neteyam chuckled nervously. He needed to finally address what they both were thinking about. “Your mate doesn’t seem very happy about having me back. Maybe… he is scared of me and you.”

“Why would he?”

Ao’nung’s incredulous laugh made Neteyam irritated; he felt his hands sweating when he closed them into fists. There were no violent thoughts in his mind, but he preferred to turn around and avoid an answer. 

He didn’t know yet how vulnerable he would be. There were more feelings than he would like to assume. Neteyam would never understand how he would fall from grace so easily in front of Ao’nung. Just like the first time they saw each other, Ao’nung saw him completely, like anyone else ever did.

Neteyam felt the cold reach his back when Ao’nung lifted the hair to show his back and ran his finger through his spine. “What are you doing?”

“Your hair got long, I cannot see your back.”

“You don’t need to look at my back.”

“Why not? It’s beautiful. You are beautiful, Forest Boy.”

Ao’nung was never used to give him compliments; it just caught Neteyam off guard. He didn’t know if it was the cold touch of the wind on his warm skin, but his mind was blown out, and he stopped thinking. Ao’nung was certainly unaware, but he didn’t move when Neteyam got close to him. He knew then there was no turning back.

Before he could even comprehend, they kissed. Without precision and motivated by melancholy and some kind of animalistic behavior.  Just as fast, they were touching each other. Neteyam had his hands on Ao’nung’s cock already fully out. They didn’t need to get naked, they fucked right there, squeezing each other against the rock as if it was what they were holding on to for so long. 

It was messy, and the whole thing didn’t actually take that long. They both came too fast. Neteyam got squeezed against that rock by Ao’nung’s heavy body. Ao’nung barely put it in, stroking Neteyam’s thighs from behind, just as inexperienced as Neteyam would think he was.

They haven’t stopped doing it since then, though.

Neteyam feels guilty for not regretting anything and wanting more each time Ao’nung gives him his all. Neteyam wants to suck all of life from him, take his heart out so he can give him his own.

He looks at Ao’nung now, comfortably resting his face over the muscle of the Metkayina’s chest. Ao’nung touches his cheek, right below his left eye. It makes him smile, but not for long. “How is it?”

“What?”

“The mating…” Neteyam's voice is careful; however, Ao’nung adopts a serious expression right upon hearing.

“We only did it once.”

“He does not ask for more?”

“No. I think he likes to have me with him.”

“Do you think he knows about us?” Neteyam feels disgusted, not because of them, but for thinking about Koro knowing the borrowed moments are all he has. Koro is so different from him; he accepts the little and being the one loving Ao’nung without having anything back. Maybe he likes to sleep beside him and share the marui, feel his scent on the blankets, and that’s enough.

“I do not know.” Ao’nung’s voice sounds lazy. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it, but when he moves to sit nervously, Neteyam notices there’s something more he needs to say. “We will… adopt a child.” He coughs. “So many lost their parents in the war.”

Neteyam doesn’t answer, still lying down, while Ao’nung is not brave enough to look him in the eye anymore. He shouldn’t be surprised; Ao’nung and Koro are mated, and it all makes sense. Neteyam is the other one, the one that shouldn’t be there, that doesn’t have a place to stay. He wasn’t made for mating, certainly wasn’t made for being a parent. The war is the only thing he can commit to; he can’t have Ao’nung, so he should settle for those borrowed moments and the belief that what they have is only theirs.

There is too much going on inside his mind right now, his thoughts flooding to the point of giving him a headache. Still, he breathes deeply.  He's not exactly sad when he frowns as he stares off into space. His yellow eyes remain static for a few seconds, preceded by a blink.

“I’m proud of you!” Neteyam says getting Ao'nung's attention almost immediately.

Ao'nung chuckles, relieved. He goes to Neteyam, hugging him by the waist while bringing their bodies together one more time. It’s warm and good, but now it hurts.

Neteyam had always suspected that loving Ao'nung would come with a price. He is glad he can hide his emotions well under a shy smile, so Ao’nung doesn’t know the ugly things that go on in his mind. He thinks about the shot. Maybe he should have died there; it would be better for everyone. It would be better for him. Surviving made him an aberration, and deep down, he couldn't blame anyone for it. 

Not even himself.

Liking Ao'nung isn't a voluntary choice. It’s like a gift from Eywa, or maybe a curse. One of Pandora’s wonders, existing without cause, just to raise more mysteries. Lying with him, Neteyam feels like the fullest man in the world, even if his breath shudders as he feels Ao'nung touch the skin of his lower back when they kiss, pressing their bodies together.

The kiss is slow and wet; both are tired and lack sleep, but Neteyam doesn’t break it until Ao’nung actually does. Neteyam doesn’t know exactly when they will see each other again, and he has no courage to ask about it now. It's a sensitive subject to bring up at that moment.

Whatever brought the two together, it is both hideous and grand enough to make him rethink every moment they spend, or even the ones they didn't share. The early years in the Forest when he had no idea of Ao’nuns’s existence, or of what was to come. It is scary, truly. The invisible connection that binds them together has always been there.

It unfortunately doesn’t mean they would have a lifetime together, something Neteyam should accept now more than ever.

Ao'nung moves to embrace Neteyam slowly, as if nothing and no one else exists in the world. That embrace is everything, warm and immersive. Neteyam can't think about anything else; every little piece of pain is gone. Ao'nung has the power to equalize his systems. There is calmness and the feeling of relief, almost bringing a minty scent to his nostrils.

After long minutes, Ao'nung is rubbing his forehead against Neteyam's nape, looking for a way not to fall asleep. It could happen at any moment. In fact, Neteyam hopes it happens to extend their time together. He could spend eternity there in Ao’nung's arms, an immediate comfort to anything that might befall him. 

“Yawne, I have to go!”

“Please, just a little longer.” 

Ao'nung can't refuse it when he whispers. They are sticking a little, but it is good to keep hugging like that, listening to his own sighs whenever Ao’nung runs the lips down his shoulder. 

“I really have to go.” Ao'nung finally says, lips against Neteyam’s skin, hearing his complaining moan soon after. 

Neteyam moves against his will, finally pulling his body away from Ao'nung’s. But he smiles as Ao'nung slowly kisses his hand before leaving for the water.

Neteyam lies his cheek on the sand, some grains bother his eyes while he blinks. He watches Ao’nung meet the small waves as if they are trying to embrace him. He dives right when he reaches a good water depth, and now the ocean is responsible for kissing his skin and taking any trace of Neteyam off of him.

The smile slowly fades from his face as he looks up at the sky. That's because the sound of their voices is silent, nothing but the waves and the wind in their wondrous communication telling him the end is near. It isn't a goodbye; they would see each other sooner rather than later, still… he is afraid even without knowing about what. Maybe Ao'nung would forget about him. Well, it is a misguided thought.

He is aware that Ao'nung is a person with infinite love to give. He feels lucky that Ao'nung still considers him for this even after so many years. But he can't help his stomach churning at the thought of Ao'nung with Koro, having now a child, and the lifetime that was never meant for him. 

They never kiss, Ao’nung said, they never did anything but the mating. Still, Neteyam feels the envy eat him alive for knowing Koro was the one to share the bond with Ao’nung.

The things he has look so small, whatever Koro has look so great.

He is fidgeting now, snapping the fingers of his own hand when he sits on the sand, knees close to his chest. Ao'nung comes back, going straight to his things to finally get dressed. His body is still wet; he looks glorious with his hair down like a perfect deity. 

“You should wash.” Ao’nung’s voice strikes him, the end is near.

Maybe he should do something to prevent Ao’nung from leaving, anything, something that hurts. Although he is sure nothing can hurt more right now.

Neteyam can't help thinking that he's being a bit greedy. He doesn't want to be the least nuisance in Ao'nung's life. All of that is about loving without asking anything back, because that is what they are. But why is he feeling like this?

He watches out of the corner of his eye and sees Ao'nung holding the cord with the yellow gem close to his heart. Neteyam breathes quietly while looking at him again, and a sudden urge to wrap himself around him almost takes him over.

There it is, the terrible part of the invisible string. The separation. It hurts like hell, the same way his throat burns as soon as the words come out. “Maybe we should stop.” Neteyam makes sure his tone is serene, but Ao’nung looks so incredulous that he asks himself if he was being aggressive. “Now that you are going to have a child.” A smile appears, sarcastic enough for Ao’nung to understand.

“You want this?”

Neteyam shrugs. “It does not matter what I want.”

For some reason, Neteyam feels his heart break when treating Ao’nung like that. When the Metkayina looks down at the yellow gem on a cord, he seems disappointed but not enough to not try to explain himself, even with things Neteyam already knows about. “Koro and I, we do not do anything. We do not kiss.”

“I know. But it does not matter either.” Neteyam cuts him up, now a bit more aggressive. “He is your mate in the end.”

“He knows I like you.”

Neither does this matter, Neteyam thinks. But Ao’nung won’t listen to him now. “What if I get mated too and have kids?”

“So what?”

Ao’nung’s innocence can be surprising even after all those years, so Neteyam finally looks him in the eye again. He is trying to tell Neteyam that mating is not the same as loving, as if whatever traditions and Eywa’s rules are made upon are simply not strong enough to face what he feels. It is so little to Neteyam, but to Ao’nung it means the whole world. He wanted to stay close to him during the darkest moment of his life; he wanted to stay with him when he came back - even after being fully mated to someone else - he wants to stay with him now, even if everything is against it all. 

Neteyam feels embarrassed about the fact that he can be so selfish when Ao’nung is right there, willing to do anything for him.

“I’m sorry…” Neteyam says. He’s so sad, and he can’t say if his eyes are wet because he is on the verge of crying or because they barely slept. “It’s not your fault, Ao'nung. But it hurts when you go away… it’s like something is wrapped around my stomach. It stretches, but does not break.” A loud sigh escapes his lips. He's trying not to cry, just like a kid who had scraped his knee but is afraid to tell his mother. Neteyam can't help but feel guilty that all this is happening. He shouldn't have gotten carried away or allowed it to go this far. “I don’t even know if it’s a gift or a curse. I shouldn’t be feeling like that. Not at all and not about you.” His voice floats against the chill of the night, and he's afraid it won't reach Ao'nung somehow. “Sometimes I just want this to stop.”

He would like to be more like Ao'nung and be so sure about everything. To see reality as a piece of fate, without being scared of his feelings or apprehensive about what might happen if he follows his heart. Neteyam always thought he was so strong, but when he thinks about it, Ao'nung is so much more. 

He could be strong for both of them.

The silence made the natural noises of the ambience the only thing to be heard besides Ao’nung's breathing. That's their thing. No one can control or decide, just accept and cry if necessary. 

“I’m sorry, Teyam.” It is the only thing Ao’nung could say at that moment. He carefully walks up to Neteyam. Kneeling in front of him, he touches his shoulders. 

Neteyam doesn’t move, allowing him to get closer. Somehow, there is expectation in his eyes whilst looking at Ao'nung's mouth slowly approaching to kiss his lips. A small and cast kiss that is a kind of apology. “Sorry for making you feel this way.”

He certainly isn't talking only about the present moment, but about everything surrounding them. Their story. How long did it take Neteyam to realize he loves that man more than himself?

That finally disarms Neteyam, and his features become more relaxed. He hugs Ao'nung without thinking of anything else. Everything is fine. Ao’nung is still there, trying to comfort him by caressing his braids.

“Sometimes I don't know what to do.” That is extremely frustrating.  Neteyam would like to scream, but he doesn’t want his well-being to be at Ao'nung’s expense.

Ao'nung calmly breaks the hug to hold both of Neteyam's hands. He is paying attention to every detail in them; “Your hands are so small. How can you squeeze that hard?” And then he holds Neteyam's wrists, his fingers mimicking two handcuffs as they lightly press against the skin there. “Your skin is beautiful like… if someone painted it by hand.”

“Well, Eywa did…”

“The Great Mother did this. Like a force pushing me to where you are.” Yes, he understands, and he feels the same. Neteyam is not exactly surprised, but his eyes are watering at that realization. “And if Eywa did this, then it is sacred, is not it?”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“No.” Ao’nung finally looks Neteyam in the eye again. He remains silent as if waiting, ready to listen to whatever Neteyam decides to say from now on.

It's not like Ao'nung needs to convince Neteyam of anything. Time had convinced him that their connection is greater than anything else, even mating. It was an accident that brought them together, a series of unforeseen circumstances that could be called fate, and they didn’t need to make the bond for that to be real. Still, Ao'nung proposes. “Do you wanna make it?”

Neteyam chuckles nervously as his whole body shivers. “Is it worth it to go against Eywa?”

“You are worth to me, Neteyam.” Ao'nung presses his fingers against Neteyam's wrists once more. His ocean eyes are insistent in an attempt not to let him escape. Neteyam can understand why he is so vulnerable.

His mind quickly sees the previously invisible string sticking to Ao'nung and him. He knows that love is fire and pain. But love is also about taking care. Looking at Ao'nung's hands still holding his wrists, he realizes there's something that connects them. It's invisible, but it doesn't need to be seen when all that feeling is real. With that in mind, Neteyam no longer feels so bad about letting him go.

“We already have it.” A love bigger than mating.

He quickly glances at the ocean, then he looks at Ao’nung, still kneeling in front of him. In his mind, that seems so wrong. He can’t prevent himself from thinking he is the thing that ruins Ao’nung’s life, but he hates himself for liking it to the point that a pleasant taste comes to his mouth. A zesty, euphoric taste that makes him smile. “I see you soon!”

A kiss on his lips is Neteyam’s way to say everything is okay, even if that stalwart feeling he has for Ao'nung is constantly trying to tear him apart.

Neteyam didn't choose that; Eywa just gave him that role of loving Ao'nung, no matter the circumstances. Even if every time Ao’nung leaves, it's like a piece of flesh is ripped out of him. Ao'nung's presence saves him from the disgust he has for normality, and Neteyam loves him, a love without a past or a future, unattached to time and perhaps even to existence. 

It's always sad when he leaves.

While seeing Ao’nung riding the ilu through the water, Neteyam takes some time to switch to reality. He holds his knees up to his chest to snuggle in a little more, because now the space around him seems too big. Without Ao'nung's presence, everything seems quite empty, lacking purpose. 

That invisible string is a curse. It hurts and suffocates, but it also gives meaning to everything else. Neteyam knows that Ao'nung is much more modest than him, but he also believes in the magic involved in everything they've experienced, hunting for hours, laughing together, or panting all over the sand. Those memories trigger him with life, making him realize again what motivates him to exist.

Suddenly, Neteyam notices a smile on his lips. He knows Ao’nung would ask for it again, and when he does, Neteyam will say yes.