Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I need your help.”

That's how it all started.

Aonung was lazily resting against the counter of the surf shop he worked at when Neteyam suddenly slapped a hand on the marbled surface to grab his attention. The shop was empty.

The boy didn’t flinch. He looked up from his phone and unamusedly grabbed a spare pair of pink swimming goggles under the counter. It wasn't the first time Neteyam had come to him in a rush because Tuk had lost her goggles in the sea. Again . 

“Look, it’s the last time I’ll–”

Neteyam clicked his tongue, “I don’t need those!”

“Then what is it?”

By help, Aonung would’ve never imagined it meant sitting in the Sullys’ living room in the middle of an Omtikaya family gathering.

It was the end of March, and it was Neytiri’s birthday. That meant Mo'at, Neytiri's mother, and her sister with her husband had to fly over to where she now lived with Jake and their children. Since Neteyam's family had to move to a completely different continent, far from their homeland, his mother’s family visits were rare but extremely important. And they were emotionally painful for Neteyam.

The Sully firstborn loved his family very deeply. He was the first grandson and nephew on his father's and mother's sides, so they all adored him, too. But being the first in everything came with a lot of burdens and many, too many questions. The first of which was always: Do you have a special someone? To which the answer was, obviously, No . He was too preoccupied with his studies to even think about dating. To his misfortune, Lo'ak exceeded him by finding a girlfriend before he could. So, naturally, the question morphed to a: When will you find someone ?

It would've been the fourth family gathering since his mother's last birthday in a row where he would've had to present himself alone, while Lo'ak would've taken along with him Tsireya. He couldn’t take another of his grandma's disappointed looks.

“Can you, please , fake being my boyfriend?” Neteyam looked deep into his eyes, begging, “Just once.”

Neteyam had to be in true despair to ask Aoung out in the middle of the surf shop abruptly. However, the windchime's melody interrupted them as someone opened the shop's door. Aonung gestured: Text me .

The latter texting suggestion became a coffee shop date later that afternoon. Neteyam had grown a habit of studying in the coffee place where Kiri worked part-time. Located a few shops from the surf shop, facing the ocean, it was a two-story building far more modern than any other buildings in Awa’atlu. Its younger generation collectively elected it as an after-beach students' coffee shop. Being a Thursday afternoon, many seats were empty on both floors. Kiri was arranging the vegan section of the counter display when Aonung entered. She looked at him briefly before pointing a finger up. When Aonung went upstairs, he quickly spotted Neteyam sitting outside on the terrace. A towel was placed on his shoulders messily while he bent over his books, a sign he went straight up to the coffee shop from the beach.

A soft, indie melody played from the black speakers as Aonung sat before Neteyam.

“So, what's this about?” Aonung glimpsed what remained of Neteyam’s dark chocolate muffin and quickly grabbed it from its plate.

Neteyam's amber eyes zapped Aonung, "First rule!" he pointed his pen at the latter, "Do not steal my food!"

Aonung had just taken a bite but left the muffin on the plate, pushing it back to Neteyam. The brown-skinned boy arranged the table, closing all his books before he could rest his back against the chair and gaze at the other boy.

“I’ve forgotten grandma and auntie are coming over for my mom's birthday,” Neteyam explained, “And I'm fucking single.”

Aonung scoffed: “Why me?”

“'Cause you’re the only single guy I know,” he whined, “Besides, my family already knows you. It'll be easy to convince them. It's only for my grandmother and aunt's visit, I swear.”

So that’s how, two days later, Aonung found himself wearing a button-up, perfectly ironed shirt, his hair braided at his best, and a present for his now-future mother-in-law . At first, his being there was odd. Lo'ak and Tsireya gazed questionably at him when he appeared through the entrance hallway. He seemed out of place: Aonung knew it, and Neteyam too. Jake and Neytiri were surprised but didn't mind: they became good friends with Aonung and Tsireya's parents and welcomed him without question. 

“Who is this young man, Neteyam?” Mo’at curiously approached her first grandson.

Neteyam almost trembled as he hugged one of Aonung's arms in front of everyone: "He's my boyfriend!"

Everyone went quiet suddenly. The two boys were standing at the beginning of the big living room, all eyes on them. Jake's eyes inhumanly widened. Neytiri didn't know how to react to the news, fidgeting with her necklace; Lo'ak, Kiri, and Tsireya looked at each other stunned, and Lo'ak got paler; Tuk smiled widely, clapping in excitement as she was sitting on her uncle’s lap. Between Mo'at excited exclamations and Neteyam's aunt and uncle's greetings, someone screamed What?! — one hundred percent was Lo'ak. Neteyam's face reddened as he tried to interpret each of his family's reactions. His grandmother at least looked enthusiastic as she began to study Aonung up close.

It was Aonung’s first time meeting Neytiri’s family. He once got to know Jake’s twin brother only because he came for holidays and, like two good Aussies , they went to the surf shop to rent an extra surfboard. Beauty must've run in Neytiri's bloodline because all Tskaha women were stunning, with their ebony skin tone and perfect, bright smiles. Tuktirey, among the Sullys siblings, looked very much like her mother's relatives: flat nose, ebony skin, and plump lips. Neteyam's skin tone was in-between Tuk's darker tone and Lo'ak's, who only looked tanned. The boys got their father's high-bridge straight nose and, unfortunately, small lips — Neteyam's were slightly bigger than Lo'ak's, though. Tsu'tey, their uncle, was a bit intimidating with his muscular tall figure but had a kind smile.

For the whole evening, Mo'at wanted to sit next to Neteyam's boyfriend, and Tsireya jokingly whined about her brother having already taken her place.

“Don’t joke! You're still my favorite,” Mo’at claimed.

“So, why don’t you talk a little about yourself, Aonung?” Sylwanin’s voice was soft and friendly, “We only know you’re Tsireya’s big brother.”

They had just finished dinner and were eating cake. Aonung was sitting on the second couch, squeezed between Mo’at and Neytiri, and looked directly at Neteyam, who sat across from him on the velvet armchair. The latter glared at him with warning eyes. 

“Let’s practice your introduction,” Neteyam said the day before.

They were in Neteyam's bedroom, the door locked. Jake was at work, Neytiri was at the beach with Tuk, Kiri was working her afternoon shift, and Lo'ak was in his room, shouting something into his microphone as he played videogames with Rotxo.

“Why should we?” Aonung was bouncing a ball against the room's ceiling.

“Because you're going to meet my grandmother!” Neteyam spun around with his desk chair, “You must be perfect. Tsireya won her over right away, and you need to be as good as her.”

Aonung huffed, hating the idea of being compared to his sister. He sat up with crossed legs, facing Neteyam.

“You're asking me the moon there, Sully,” the Metkayina boy said.

Aonung and Tsireya, although siblings, were the opposite poles as much as Neteyam and Lo'ak were. Tsireya was the golden child: she graduated with the highest score, had a room full of first-placed synchro swimming prizes, and she was graduating in nursing. Aonung was Aonung: barely managed to graduate high school, always had been the hot-headed son who ended up in fights in and out of school, and had no intentions of studying or whatsoever.

“No, I’m not,” Neteyam sat beside him and squeezed a hand reassuringly, “What about your job? All your first-place swimming prizes? Your town hall volunteering work?”

Aonung’s eyes always shone whenever he talked about his hobbies. He was proud of being one of the fewest young Metkayina who kept their traditions alive, teaching children all about Metkayina's way of water. So, they agreed that he would've talked about all that: how he was helping his father, Awa’atlu’s mayor, and how he also worked. 

“Oh! What a perfect pair of siblings!” Mo’at clapped to both Aonung and Neteyam’s surprise and Lo’ak’s.

Each time they made international phone calls, Mo’at nagged Lo'ak for not wanting to go to college, saying he should follow Neteyam's steps. He enrolled in an Economics, Politics, and Social Sciences degree at the same college where Tsireya was studying. Why wasn’t she scolding Aonung for not going to college? He muttered something under his breath, and Tsireya nudged him. 

“Since when you’re dating?” Kiri's question echoed in the room.

Now, everyone was looking at Neteyam. Tsireya was the only one who glanced at her brother before fixing her gaze on Neteyam too. Tsireya and The Sullys, except innocent Tuk, were doubtful: no one ever knew, and it felt so sudden and convenient.

Obviously, they prepared that answer, too.

“Should we say… a week?” Aonung shrugged.

“No! I’d never introduce a one-week-old relationship to my family,” Neteyam’s braids swung left and right as he shook his head.

“Mh, what about…”

“Almost… Two months? I confessed on New Year's Eve because someone was too shy to step up first. We weren't sure what we both wanted, though, and being too focused on college, I asked him to take things really slow. He was so patient, lovely, and caring that after only a month and a half, I changed my mind, and we agreed on dating officially,” Neteyam smiled fondly at Aonung, who smirked, “I don’t know why we kept it secret until now.”

“Well, I asked him to make it public,” Aonung improvised, “I’m tired of being always introduced as the family’s friends’ son.”

“That’s why Nung always comes over, and they go to Teyam’s room!” Tuktirey chanted happily.

A symphony of coughs and clearing throats began echoing in the living room, and Tuk stayed clueless. Fortunately, the two boys had their alibis. They did, in fact, spend New Year's Eve together with Lo’ak, Tsireya, Kiri, and Rotxo at Aonung and Tsireya’s house, and at some point, they did distance themselves from the others to talk alone. It was true that Aonung was usually at Sully’s house because of Neteyam. Everyone in Awa’atlu knew that if Neteyam wasn’t hanging around with his brother and sisters, he was more likely with Aonung, surfing, or hanging out at Kiri’s coffee shop. She’s also used to seeing just the pair at the coffee shop.

All the dots were connecting.

Neteyam was proud as even his parents looked like they believed his storytelling. Questions and answers kept going back and forth as if it was a tennis tournament. Aonung was cocky and too confident, and Neteyam kept blushing and smiling like a hopeless romantic as he spat lies on lies. At some point, Neytiri stood up from her seat. Her son saw it as the perfect chance to go and steal it while sitting beside his boyfriend . The Metkayina boy naturally put an arm around him while chit-chatting with Jake, Lo’ak, and Tsu’tey. Neteyam nuzzled in the semi-hug.

“Rules,” being a perfectionist, Neteyam started to write their plan on a google document.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, really ,” the Omatikaya mocked him, “Rule number one: we need to touch each other as much as possible,” he saw Aonung’s confused expression, “Like Lo’ak and Tsireya. You know: they’re always holding hands, hugging each other, cuddling as soon as they sit together.” 

“Seems fair,” he stood up and went behind Neteyam. He rested his hands on the latter’s shoulders and lowered himself, “Boyfriends have to touch each other.”

He didn't see Neteyam's cheeks getting redder, “Rule number two: dress properly.”

“What do you mean? I’ve got a great sense of fashion,” Neteyam quickly chuckled, “Hey!”

“Even Lo’ak dresses better than you,” the other grinned, “Do you know how I would’ve called you back in Australia?” he quickly typed in the search bar, “Eshay.”

“They’re cool,” Aonung peeked behind the other shoulders.

“No, they’re not. Try to copy me or Lo’ak,” the Omatikaya sighed, “Rule number three—” 

“Pet names,” the taller boy suggested suddenly, “Every couple has pet names! Calling ourselves honey or sweetheart for three hours won’t kill us."

“ Babe , I’ll quickly go to the bathroom,” Neteyam said loudly enough so even the ones talking to Aonung could hear him.

“Sure,” his boyfriend caressed Neteyam's hand until he had to let go.

Jake smiled tenderly before exchanging an approval glance with Tsu’sey. Lo’ak side-eyed his brother until he disappeared, running upstairs.

Neteyam had just pressed the flush toilet button and was washing his hands when he heard someone knocking on the door.

“Hold on!” the older sibling shouted.

There was silence before another round of knocks.

“I’m washing my hands!”

As he spoke, the door suddenly unlocked. Neteyam got flustered before the privacy invasion, but he sighed, defeated, as soon as he saw who was behind the door: Lo’ak. The upstairs bathroom had an old sliding door. Once, Tuk closed it so hard that the lock triggered itself, and, at that time, she still didn't know how locks worked. The older brothers and Kiri had gone crazy looking for a way to free their little sister, and Lo'ak had slyly found out that the door could be opened by lifting and sliding it back by the handle. Since then, every time Neteyam took too long in the bathroom, for Lo'ak's liking, he would've unlocked the door from outside.

“How many times do I have to tell you that—”

“ What are you doing with Aonung?” Lo'ak had shut the door quickly before he could ask harshly.

“Huh?” Neteyam was taken aback.

“What’s this “boyfriend” bullshit?” Lo’ak raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Neteyam mentally cursed his brother for being the perfect liar detector. Lo'ak could seem unaware most of the time, but he was too woke for Neteyam's things.

“It’s true!” the older sibling tried to argue, but his brother still was looking at him skeptically, “Why can’t you believe it?”

“‘Cause you didn’t tell me about the developments!” the tanned boy pointed out.

Neteyam blushed, and Lo’ak smiled.

In truth, the Omatikaya boy hadn't been honest with Aonung when he asked for his help. He was ashamed but tried to remind himself he had no other option. It was either that or seeing his grandmother dissatisfied because he was still single. Neteyam chose Aonung not only for his being single but because he had a "little" crush on the latter — Lo’ak knew that that crush was, in fact, not little at all. According to the dark-skinned boy, pretending to be with the guy he liked would've been easier. And it was. It felt real.

“Lo’ak, please…” Neteyam felt more pathetic.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Lo’ak was now speaking softly, “Don’t—”

“I know! I won’t delude myself!” the older boy said. A shadow of hurt lingered in his eyes, “Do you think others fell for it?”

Lo’ak sighed, “Yes, everyone, and even Kiri.”

“Even Tsireya?”

“Looks like it isn’t Aonung's first secret relationship,” Neteyam frowned.

“Can you…?”

“I’ll play along, alright,” his little brother shrugged, “But promise me you’ll stick to the pretending part!”

“It’s just for today. For the next few days, I’ll pretend that Aonung is too busy. When grandma and auntie leave, I’ll tell mom and dad the truth.”

Lo’ak nodded and unlocked the door.

When the two brothers returned downstairs, they found Tsireya and Aonung talking to Mo’at cheerfully. They were comparing Omatikaya Na'vi and Metkayina Na'vi. Both their native clans came from Oceania: Omatikaya were scattered around Australia, while Metkayina were mostly around Polynesia. For centuries, some Metkayina moved away from the Polynesian islands and ended up in Hawaii. Awa'atlu had the biggest Metkayina community. Neteyam loved hearing Aonung speaking Na'vi: while the Omatikaya one sounded tuneful as if it was a chant, the Metkayina accent was stronger and rough. But Aonung made it sound sweet anyway.

Lo’ak sat again beside Tsireya, placing a hand on her thigh gently. Neteyam was about to sit near Aonung when something caught his attention.

"Mom, didn't you have to tell us something?" asked Neytiri, coming down the stairs.

Tuk wasn’t there anymore: it was her bedtime.

“Right!” Mo’at exclaimed before she could share a look with Sylwanin and Tsu’tey, “Our trips are always short, so we decided to extend our stay a bit.”

Neteyam stopped breathing as his father asked: “For how much?”

“Three weeks!”

Neteyam gazed at Aonung alarmingly, who quickly searched for his look. Lo'ak face-slapped himself under Tsireya's confused look.

Shit .

Three rules weren’t enough.

Chapter Text

“Neteyam, your boyfriend is here!”

Aonung went back to the Sullys the following day.

Neteyam settled an emergency meeting that day for their fake relationship plan. So, Aonung had to pass by after lunchtime before he could start his shift. The house was full of Omatikaya, and the new guest had to quickly greet each of them before he could reach Neteyam’s room. When he knocked on the dark wooden door, he got pulled in in a blink of an eye. Aonung’s mood was calm til he saw a familiar freckled face on Neteyam's bed.

He quickly raised an eyebrow to ask silently: When will we talk if he's here ?

“He knows,” was the latter response as he sipped from the mug sitting on the desk. Aonung didn't have to look to know it was an Omatikaya traditional herbal tea.

“He knows!?”

"Of course I know," Lo'ak rolled his eyes, pissed, but the grin plastered on his face was somehow mischievous, “Do you think I would’ve fallen easily, letting you bang my brother?”

“Lo’ak!” Neteyam almost spilled his tea.

Being nosy, Lo'ak had peeked into his older brother’s phone that morning while he texted Aonung to come to his house to talk. Even before Neteyam could protest, he had snuck into his room before the arrival of the Metkayina boy and sat on the bed, resisting the eldest’s opposition. So, Lo'ak was already comfortable between his brother's blankets, with his iPad in hand, when the other came over.

“Since I’m in your little scam plan, I’ll deliberately join your meeting,” Lo’ak explained to Aonung, “See it as professional help.”

“You’re not in our plan,” the older brother argued, frowning.

“Yes, I am ,” the youngest said, showing the iPad's screen: the rules document was open, and, circled in red, there was Lo'ak's name.

Rule number one: act like Lo’ak and Tsireya.

Neteyam blushed visibly, and Aonung wondered how and why Lo’ak had access to it, but he didn’t feel like asking. Who cared? It was embarrassing enough knowing the plan wasn't as secret as Neteyam had promised him, and they were now going to extend their charade for almost a month.

“So,” Neteyam cleared his throat awkwardly, “First of all: Lo’ak, you stay quiet,” to which his brother snorted, “And, second of all: Aonung, did you bring what I’ve asked?”

Precisely at 10 a.m, Aonung’s phone buzzed, and Neteyam’s name lit the screen with the following list: a bunch of polaroids — “on your own” written in caps —, an old t-shirt, a sweatshirt, and a plushie. For he had just woken up, Aonung couldn't understand the meaning of that list until he saw Tsireya walking out of the bathroom as he came out of his room. She was wearing an oversized black t-shirt, and on its back, there was a faded Australian printed flag.

Oh .

Aonung had brought his knapsack bag, and he let it hang from one of his shoulders til that question. Shortly after, he emptied it on Neteyam’s bed before he could take out a bunch of polaroids, tied up by a rubber band, from a pocket of his cargo shorts. Neteyam smiled, excited, as he glimpsed at the things he asked for and tried to ignore how his heart skipped a beat as he recognized all of them. There was Aonung’s old swimming team t-shirt, the sweatshirt of his favorite band, and the seal plushie that Aonung and Rotxo won by cheating during a game at their old high school fair.

“I didn’t know what polaroid you could like, so I brought almost all of them,” Aonung later said as Neteyam went through them.

“Good,” the other murmured: he was already mentally pinning that he would’ve kept the one where Aonung was smiling, hugging his surfboard.

Neteyam had looked over to his brother, and he saw a shade of disappointment in his eyes. That morning, they also had argued about the necessity of that list: for Lo’ak, it was nonsense since his brother would’ve to act in that fake relationship for less than a month. Neteyam felt he needed the boy’s things hanging around his room because he knew Mo’at would've snooped around. Besides, the clothes would've helped him when Aonung couldn’t be with him: why else would he wear a t-shirt with "Aonung" and "Team captain" written on it if they weren’t boyfriends? Lo'ak thought it was also an excuse to have one of his t-shirts. And you know what? Maybe it was, but Neteyam didn't care.

The dark-skinned boy quickly hung the polaroids he liked most around his room while Aonung arranged his t-shirt and sweatshirt in the other’s wardrobe.

“How long before you have to start working?” the older boy asked, returning to his seat.

“An hour,” Aonung stood in the middle of the room, “Rotxo is going to work too, so I think he can cover me up if I’m a little late.”

“That’s perfect because we need to set new rules,” Lo’ak scoffed in the background, “Three aren’t enough.”

Aonung leaned against the desk, arms crossed: "Any ideas?"

The three boys went silent for a few minutes: the two “boyfriends” were thinking about what they could add while Lo’ak was probably messing around with his iPad, maybe chatting with Tsireya.

Neteyam started to think about his previous relationships. Taking inspiration from two-month-old relationships wasn't the best idea, though, especially if they were both in his teenage years and one used to be a long-distance one. Then, his eyes went to his brother figure, and he started to think about his relationship instead. 

“We should split the first rule,” the older Sully said.

“Why?”

“Acting like them is too shallow,” he referred to the first rule, “Yes, we should do their things, but in our way.”

“So… date and stuff?” Aonung was so quick to comprehend that Lo'ak raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“First rule should be about boundaries, PDA, and the second one about dates,” the dark-skinned boy glanced at his brother, “Lo’ak, write that down!”

The Metkayina boy laughed as he saw how their “professional helper” became more like a clerk, writing everything his brother said.

Rule number one: PDA should be moderate, not too invasive; rule number two: fake dates on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons.

“Isn’t it too little time?” Aonung was skeptical.

“It is?” Neteyam searched for his brother's gaze, and Lo’ak nodded.

“On weekdays, even Tsireya and I don't hang out much,” the younger said, “She's always here during weekends, though.”

Some minutes of silence later, and after a series of discussions between the Sully brothers, they had declared the planning finished, and both Neteyam and Aonung’s phone screens glowed again with an email, a new list.

Rules :

1. PDA should be moderate, not too invasive: yes to holding hands, hugging, cuddling, and cheek kisses;

2. Fake dates on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons — Aonung has to come over with Tsireya on weekends;

3. Dress appropriately (for Aonung);

4. Pet names;

5. Do not fall in love.

“Lo’ak!” Neteyam suddenly screamed as he was checking the email on Aonung’s phone.

“What?” the accused boy had an innocent look on his tanned face.

“What’s with the last rule?” the older brother blushed severely, hoping Aonung wouldn’t notice — he already did.

“All the fake relationships movies have that as a cliché,” Lo’ak claimed.

Aonung seemed unbothered by the fifth rule, believing Lo'ak’s sleazy excuse, but Neteyam knew what it was about and couldn't help feeling humiliated. Do not fall in love . It was a warning, directly for him. He knew it from Lo'ak's mischievous grin and how he was staring fiercely at him, ignoring Aonung’s presence. Neteyam appreciated how his younger brother cared for him and knew he was doing it because he didn't want his older brother to get hurt. He just wished he didn’t have to act that way: as a skxawng.

They were getting comfortable, wanting to chat a little before Aonung could go to work when the door suddenly opened. Jake peeked behind it.

“Do you need something?” Neteyam asked calmly.

Jake’s blue eyes quickly scanned the room: now, Lo’ak was the one sitting on his brother's desk chair, and Aonung was sitting on the bed while Neteyam was resting on the floor, his head leaning against the other’s knee. The father’s gaze lingered on his eldest son and his boyfriend.

“Just making sure everything’s alright,” Jake claimed, wavering a little, “Now there’s Lo'ak, but next time, the rule also applies to you: door stays open.”

“Dad!” the older son moaned, ashamed, while the younger looked satisfied.

“My home, my rules!” Jake left but shortly peeked again, “Get ready 'cause we're going to the beach. Aonung, do you want to come with us?”

“Thanks, sir, but no,” Aonung briefly pointed at his work t-shirt, “If you need to get ready, I’ll go, huh?”

Neteyam nodded, and they quickly left his room, leaving Lo’ak behind. Aonung had to greet each family member again, but this time there was Neteyam beside him, holding his hand, acting like he had to send his boyfriend off. Nobody was peeking at them as they stood beside Aonung’s jeep, so they hugged briefly before agreeing they would’ve seen each other at the beach.

The beach was extremely crowded as it was a Sunday afternoon, but that didn't stop the Omatikaya family from having fun. Neteyam and Lo'ak spent almost all afternoon in the water playing around with Tuk and their cousins, splashing water at each other or making them jump into the low waves. Kiri stayed under a beach umbrella, reading a book alone until Tsireya came along, joining the Omatikayas for the afternoon. Lo'ak got out of the water soon after he spotted his girlfriend talking to Neytiri and Mo'at, leaving Neteyam alone with their cousins and a screaming Tuk: she had just found a starfish.

Among all the laughter and fun, emptiness arose in Neteyam’s chest. He wished Aonung was there with them. He knew Aonung would've vaunted his surfing skills and smiled while showing off his traditional Metkayina tattoos — Neteyam knew that his grandmother would've loved the explanations and that Aonung showed how proud he was of his origins through tattoos. Instead, he could only peek at the latter as he worked: he came outside at some point to grab a surfboard and later to help Rotxo move some boxes with a hand truck. 

“Boyfriend’s here!” Rotxo chanted.

Neteyam had just opened the door. It was sunset, the beach was getting emptier, and fewer people were keeping the shop busy. Rotxo stood alone behind the register and grinned at him as soon as he had eyed him. The shorter Metkayina boy was Kiri's special someone — they still didn't want to admit they were practically girlfriend and boyfriend — so, naturally, even if Aonung didn't tell him about it, he knew. He knew what he had to know, at least.

Neteyam stood awkwardly as his family came along: they needed sunscreen, the Omatikaya cousins also wanted to buy the same necklace Tuk was wearing, and Neytiri told her sister it was from Aonung’s workplace. Shortly after his best friend's words, Aonung came out from the storage room carrying some boxes. His eyes lighten up.

“Hey, honey,” rule number four , “Did you have fun?” Aonung asked. Neteyam skipped to him to kiss his cheek: rule number one .

“Yeah,” the latter smiled and hugged him, “But you should join us next time.”

“You want to see me surf, huh, don’t you?”

Lo’ak watched as his older brother’s body glued to Aonung’s and how Aonung's hands were pretty low on Neteyam's hips. Jake coughed, and it looked like a cryptid signal since his older son promptly ended the hug. They were all looking at them while Kiri was the only one searching for sunscreens while Tsireya helped the children find pretty necklaces.

“Oh, right,” Neteyam whispered, “Lo’ak invited Tsireya over for dinner so…”

Rule number two. That evening, Aonung came through the entrance door beside Tsireya. Neteyam had to fight internal demons, trying not to drool: Aonung was wearing a linen-brown shirt, the first two — or maybe three — buttons were undone, and he could see the other’s collarbones and the slight beginning of his chest muscles. The long gold necklace that hung exactly there was too distracting. Rule number three : fulfilled.

They dined in the backyard as Jake had improvised a barbecue. Neteyam was nervous, not knowing what to expect from his family and thinking about what he would’ve to lie about. Luckily, as if they had had a telepathic connection, Lo'ak came to the rescue, exposing Kiri’s situationship with Rotxo by “accident”. All adults’ attention went on her that night, so the fake lovers enjoyed their time peacefully, still holding hands and cuddling to lie low.

The children were sleeping on the outdoor sofa, his parents and relatives were drinking some Omatikaya rum, and Lo’ak and Kiri were still bickering under Tsireya’s gaze when Neteyam dragged Aonung to the hammock that hung between the furthest trees of the garden. Aonung loved it, and Neteyam knew.

“You know,” Neteyam was looking at the stars, “I was being serious this afternoon: you should join us next time.”

“Beach date with your family?”

“Huh, kinda. But I like it better when you’re around,” the boy got shy, “It’s funnier.”

“We do have fun,” Aonung agreed, “Should I bring oars? To go further.”

Neteyam nodded but went silent momentarily: “Didn't know you could dress like this,” he teased.

“First of all: rude!” the Metkayina boy looked offended but smiled, “Tsireya helped me.”

“I should’ve known it,” the other laughed, “Why don’t you always dress like that? You look so good! Comfy but stylish.”

“I could try,” Aonung was always ready to satisfy Neteyam’s request.

The two boys didn’t know how late it was until Tsireya came to them in the middle of their conversation: they were now talking about Neteyam's braids, and how Aonung thought he would look good in a half-bun — he was running his fingers through them, slowly. It was time to go: Tsireya had classes earlier the day after, and Aonung had to open the store.

The Omatikaya family followed the siblings to the front porch, greeting them as they left. Lo’ak kissed Tsireya goodbye at the doorstep, but Neteyam walked Aonung and her to the boy’s jeep. They stopped a few inches from the car as Tsireya jumped on the front passenger seat.

“Do you have classes tomorrow?” Aonung asked casually, kicking a rock on the sidewalk.

“Yeah,” Neteyam looked tired at the only thought of it, “The boring ones.”

“I’ll text you, then,” he smiled as his eyes stared at something behind the other, “They’re all staring at us.”

Omatikayas must be the nosy type of Na’vis as all of Neteyam’s family was still standing on the porch, staring at them as if they were something amusing or as if they were waiting for something to happen. They weren’t their only audience as Neteyam saw how, behind Aonung’s back, Tsireya was also looking at them — she was suspiciously holding her cell phone straight.

“I think Tsireya is recording us,” Neteyam looked at the light blue eyes, “What do we do?”

“Huh, greet each other goodbye?”

“Skxawng!” the dark-skinned boy punched him in the chest, “You know what I mean—”

Aonung suddenly cupped his face and kissed him. Neteyam's mind went numb for a few seconds, not elaborating on what was happening: Aonung lips were on his, and the kiss was getting deeper. Soon enough, he found himself kissing the boy back, tilting his head to the side while his hands were placed where he punched him. The kiss was brief but passionate, leaving Neteyam wanting more as they parted away. Both their breaths were short, but while Aonung looked relaxed, Neteyam's cheeks were burning hot, and his eyes were too wide open. He didn't even realize he was tiptoeing through the kiss.

“See you on Tuesday then?” Aonung asked.

“Yeah.”

This time, Neteyam was the one who leaned closer and kissed Aonung again, a light and quick peck. Aonung followed unbothered. He didn’t know what he expected by doing it: maybe he wanted to see if his heart would’ve gone crazy once again. It did. He wished he could feel the other heartbeat, too.

“Bye, then,” the Metkayina boy nodded.

His family was still there when he turned around. Neteyam wanted to scream.

Chapter Text

The first week passed quickly and peacefully.

As planned, Aonung texted him all Monday. On Tuesday, he worked the morning shift, and Neteyam had only morning classes, so they met in the afternoon for their first fake date: they didn’t settle where to go or what to do. The surfer boy only had to pick Neteyam up in front of his family. He was surprised when he later found out Aonung had planned something: as much as the Omatikaya boy learned to love Awa’atlu’s beach scenery, he missed being near a leafy and dense forest. Aonung knew it, so he took him hiking. They walked along a long path that overlooked the ocean and, in the middle of the forest, found a natural waterfall spring into which they dove. On Wednesdays, Aonung came to his house by surprise after dinner. 

“I was home alone, and I got bored,” he admitted while they were lying alone on the hammock.

On Thursday, they met at the beach. They were supposed to go somewhere else alone, but Aonung had just finished working his afternoon shift, and Neteyam was already there with his family, so the Metkayina boy joined them instead. After a while, the two “lovers” agreed on surfing together: their yips and cheerful screams filled the air while Neteyam's family watched them from the shore. Sunset came later, the waves were too calm to ride, and they sat on their boards in the middle of the sea, their legs swinging. Aonung's sand skin glowed gold.

“Is everything alright?” the taller boy asked.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Neteyam said as he tried not to stare at his lips.

They never talked about their kiss, though. Neteyam expected they would’ve openly discussed it the day after, but it never came up. Aonung kept talking to him casually, smiled at him as he ever did, acted in front of others like he had to, and Neteyam had still to learn how to read minds, so he didn't know what the other thought about the kiss. Did he feel nothing? Was Aonung used to sticking his tongue in others' mouths? Neteyam even thought he had dreamt about it, but Lo’ak was always there to remind him anytime he got the chance. That night, he had wiggled sarcastically five fingers to his older brother, his hand in the air behind their father: Rule number five . In the following days, Lo'ak began to send kiss emojis at the end of every one of his text messages, and he even sent a photo about it — Tsireya took it that evening.

On Friday, they only texted each other since Neteyam had classes in the afternoon too, and came back home at dinner time. It was soon Saturday, and the dark-skinned boy was waiting for Aonung and Tsireya’s arrival while looking out of his room’s window. His family was having a big dinner party in Omatikaya style, and he was kind of nervous since it was Aonung’s first time. They had already mastered their fake relationship skills, but he still felt nervous around his whole family. He still felt like he had to prove something, as if, all of a sudden, someone could’ve questioned all their made-up stories.

Should I bring something over? Tsireya’s bought pastries. 

Aonung had texted him forty minutes before.

Just yourself. And remember: dress nicely.

Neteyam was thinking about removing the third rule. In less than a week, Aonung had completely revolutionized his fashion style: his shabby tracksuits and polo shirts were no longer seeing the light of day since he began to wear colorful t-shirts paired with simple but comfy shorts. He still carried around his crossbody bag, but it looked cute now. That evening, Neteyam's eyes were heart-shaped as he saw Aonung dressed up in a beige shirt, the first two buttons still undone, and black trousers. He quickly gazed at his reflection before he could come out of his room, ready to welcome their guests.

When they saw each other, Neteyam and Aonung laughed cutely at each other: they both styled their hair up in a half-bun.

“See? The half bun suits you!” Aonung said, kissing his cheek — Mo’at was behind her grandsons.

“ Eww , you’re doing matching couple stuff now?” Lo’ak was quick to comment, and Tsireya slapped his arm.

“They are cute!” she argued before looking at her brother and Neteyam, “It does suit you, ‘Teyam! My brother is lucky.”

Aonung’s mouth opened as he wanted to say something when, out of nowhere, a camera flash and a cluck caught the fake couple off guard. They both looked at the stairs and found Tuk holding Neteyam's polaroid camera. She loved making pictures with it because she knew Neteyam would’ve kept each of them, decorating them with doodles and stickers as his sister liked. The polaroid fell from the camera. The boys smiled, and Neteyam was about to reach his youngest sister when she took another one unexpectedly. Tuk managed to escape her brother's grip, running to the backyard as she giggled, leaving behind the two polaroids on the ground. The eldest picked them up as Aonung stood behind him, peeking. In the first one, Aonung was looking at an out-of-frame Tsireya, a hand ghosting over the other boy’s half-bun as the latter looked at him, trying to hide a smile. In the second one, Aonung was laughing behind him, and Neteyam was smiling brightly, too, the shadow of his thumb covering half of his face. They were a little blurry but beautiful.

“I love this one,” the Metkayina boy pointed at the first polaroid.

“Then I’ll keep the other,” the Omatikaya boy said, shaking the second one: he already wanted to keep it.

Everything was set up as they walked into the backyard side by side: various types of traditional Omatikaya dishes were on the outdoor table, and its chairs, along with some pillows, were all placed around a large bonfire. They had even installed speakers from which music was playing already — it was Lo'ak's playlist, but soon Neteyam and Kiri's one would've taken over. The children were running around the table, impatient and hungry, while Sylwanin and Neytiri vividly chitchatted near it. Jake and Tsu'tey were already drinking some beer while they fed the bonfire, and Kiri was arguing about something with her grandmother as they sat in the chairs. Lo'ak and Tsireya sat on the opposite side: Lo'ak sat on a pillow as Tsireya laughed at something he probably said. The dinner hadn't even begun, but Aonung already felt a certain warmth spreading in his chest: seeing them together, watching as his sister perfectly blended in with her boyfriend's family, and how they were all smiling and chatting was lovely. He felt more out of place, him being there for nothing if not for acting a charade. Aonung also noticed that everyone had a feather in their hair as an accessory, Jake had one tied to his necklace, and Tsireya had worn feathered earrings that night. He glanced over at Neteyam and saw how the boy had a feather hanging behind his left ear. As always, Neteyam saw through his crystal blue eyes and smiled softly.

“I thought Tsireya would've told you,” he took something from his back pockets, “but I gotcha.”

Neteyam was holding two hairpin feathers in his hands: one deep blue and the other turquoise. He quickly motioned to the taller boy to bend a little, and when he did, Neteyam stuck the two feathers at the beginning of his hair bun. They stood out from the boy’s black wavy hair beautifully.

“You’re one of us now!”

The buffet began when Tuk took a paper plate without permission and began to serve herself pieces of chicken and french fries, tired of waiting. She got scolded, but Jake followed her soon after, so everyone started putting food on the plates. There was so much meat, but Neytiri had also prepared some seafood for their Metkayina guests. Aonung sat in front of the bonfire between Tsireya and Neteyam's chairs, comfortably on a pillow like Lo'ak. As for the two previous dinner dates, he stayed most of the time quiet, listening to others and laughing. He only spoke when someone mentioned him or asked something to him directly. That evening, though, he wanted to be more sociable and quickly became one of the people who talked most. Neteyam looked at him, amused, as he saw the latter particularly excited when he had had to explain to Tsu’tey the differences between surfing and skimboarding — Lo'ak had run his mouth over, saying he was the best at skimboarding.

“I ride those waves as if I control them myself,” Lo’ak said proudly.

“Yeah, because you run to them,” Aonung scoffed, “but as soon as you have to wait on a surfboard to catch them, you flip over like a turtle.”

Jake had laughed too loudly at that, and Lo'ak pouted while Tsireya comforted him with gentle pats.

Soon after, the quiet dinner turned into a party when everyone felt too full, and the food trays were almost empty. They dragged the chairs and pillows a little further from the bonfire, so there could be more space to dance as the speakers began to play traditional Omatikaya songs and melodies. Aonung was no dancer, so he chose to sit back and enjoy the party by watching as the Sully family and even Tsireya started to have fun together around the vivid fire. They danced differently than Metkayinas: although they were all group dances, the Omatikaya definitely were freer and looser in their movements, dancing at each drum stroke with different but somewhat similar intensities. Tsireya was clumsy, but Lo'ak always helped her, putting his hands on her hips. Even Mo'at kept up with the hectic drum rolls, though she focused more on what the children were up to. Among them, Neteyam was the one who stood out the most as he was smiling brightly at every hip swing, his shoulders shaking fast as he was imitating the beat. Everyone looked out of breath, even Neytiri who was the best dancer, but not him.

At some point, Neteyam stood still, staring at Aonung. Neteyam pointed at him before he could gesture: “ come over. ” To which Aonung shook his head, mimicking a “ no .” The Omatikaya boy frowned and tried again, but the surfer was stubborn and stayed seated. Then, he came closer.

“What are you doing alone?” Neteyam asked, “Come dance!”

“No way!” Aonung drank a sip of beer, “I can’t dance. You know I’m a horrible dancer.”

“Does it look like my father can dance?” the Metkayina looked at the white man who was stomping awkwardly on the ground, “That doesn’t stop him from having fun!”

“Still a no.”

“C’mon!” Neteyam held his hands.

“Neteyam, please …”

“New rule!” a finger pointed at him, “Aonung has to do what Neteyam wants.”

“That's—”

“Shut up and dance, Ma’Eywa !”

Aonung ended up getting dragged by Neteyam. He stood awkwardly between the Omatikayas, clueless: he didn’t know what to do or how to move his feet and hips. Neteyam was still smiling at him, and he quickly held his hands again, getting closer as he followed the drums’ rhythm.

“Follow me!” Neteyam whispered in his ear.

Shortly after, Aonung exactly copied what the other boy was doing in front of him: he did tiny skips forward, then he backed off, spun around still holding Neteyam's hands, and swung his hips to the heavy drum stroke. The fire was burning hot behind him but not hotter than Neteyam's gaze, which pierced into him. At one point, Neteyam got particularly close whilst dancing, and their gazes locked. The latter breath stopped as he got lost in those blue eyes, he raised his chin and slowly leaned over, but the Metkayina boy slipped away as he spun around as the others around them did. Aonung ended up dancing in front of Neytiri, and they laughed about it as Neteyam stared at his brother, who was now in front of him.

“Still no smooches?”

“Shut up!”

The music got softer, and everyone started to sit back when Tuk and the cousins began to mumble and whine about being sleepy. Neytiri and Jake sat with her family near the bonfire, chit-chatting casually, while Lo’ak, Tsireya, and Kiri went to the table to drink. Aonung had to disappear for some minutes in the bathroom, so Neteyam waited for him beside the backyard glass door, absent-mindedly sipping whatever Lo’ak had put in his paper cup until the Metkayina boy was back.

“Let’s talk,” Neteyam murmured when he stepped outside.

They instantly knew where to go as they silently began to walk toward the hammock. It was their spot. They throw themselves on it, lying down and facing the starry night. Neteyam cuddled a little beside the other, and Aonung naturally put an arm around his shoulders. No one was watching them, though. They stayed quiet, softly swinging as they could still hear the grownups talking and laughing in the background.

“Are you drunk?” Neteyam asked suddenly.

“I don’t think so,” Aonung hummed, “Are you?”

“Nah,” the other giggled.

Aonung laughed, “ Yeah ,” he pinched Neteyam's cheek, mocking him, “I think you are. Look at these red cheeks.”

“Well, maybe a little,” the shorter boy said, “But just a little!”

Neteyam was the kind of guy who rarely gets drunk, but when he did always tried his best to remain conscious. He didn’t like the blank-out sensation, not knowing what he did or said while drunk. That evening he barely drank: he had only two beers and a glass of whatever Lo'ak mixed for him — it was sweet, though. So, because he still felt clearheaded, he chose it was time to talk about the "kiss" matter with Aonung. Neteyam’s heart still trembled thinking about that evening: how Aonung’s lips moved on his and how he felt his breath tickling him. Neteyam wanted to understand why he had done it and how Aonung felt about it since it wasn’t in their stupid rules.

He remained quiet for a while, nervous, as he tried to muster the courage to speak. Neteyam turned his head to face the other while speaking, but something went wrong as soon as he decided to do so. His tipsy self took over the sober side, and when he moved, his lips suddenly crashed over Aonung's. He got closer, bending slightly over the Metkayina boy's body as he kissed him out of nowhere. The latter was shocked by the sudden action: Neteyam could feel it by how his lips were shut and stiff, but a few seconds later, they moved following Neteyam’s pace, if not faster. He silently prayed nobody was looking at them, that his father would’ve not noticed how his eldest son was basically lying on top of Aonung while they were drunkenly making out. The Omatikaya boy tried to ignore his fast heartbeat as one of his hands placed on top of Aonung’s chest, searching desperately for some kind of signal.

Neteyam woke up from his trance when he heard Aonung sighing beneath him.

“Shit…”

Aonung chuckled: “You are so drunk.”

“I didn’t want to—”

“Neteyam,” the other boy called him, “It’s okay.”

“No! It’s not! I wanted to talk to you; I didn’t mean to— Ma’Eywa—” Neteyam was panicking.

“Neteyam,” Aonung’s voice deepened, “It’s alright, trust me.”

“Those kisses weren’t planned, so when you kissed me that night, I got surprised, and ever since can’t stop thinking about it,” he talked fast and agitated, looking anywhere but at the surfer, “I'm sorry if you felt in any way obligated to do such a thing, I'm sorry that—”

Aonung kissed him again, pinning him down on the hammock so he couldn’t move. Neteyam mentally cursed him for being as drunk as him. He was always touchy when drunk, but he had still to learn to admit it.

“Can you just shut up?” the Metkayina boy laughed, “Calm down, it’s okay, so you don’t have to worry,” he tried to speak up but was silenced once more, “Do. Not. Apologize.”

“Why did you kiss me that night?” Neteyam mumbled but loud enough to be heard by the other boy.

“Damn, I don’t know,” Aonung shrugged, the hand placed on Neteyam’s chest slipped down his hip, “We were there, everyone was staring at us, you were panicking... and I felt like it was the right thing to do, wasn't it?”

“So, you did it just for our scheme?”

“Huh, yeah?” the taller boy frowned as if he didn’t know how to respond, choosing the safest option.

“That’s so unfair,” the Omatikaya boy bit his lower lip, sliding away from the other.

“What?”

“It’s unfair,” he whined, “Because I—”

Whatever Neteyam tried to say was cut off by a new presence: Lo’ak. The youngest had seen everything, as he could feel something was about to happen. He had quickly excused himself from Kiri and Tsireya, walking towards the boys on the hammock as they kissed, and arrived just in time to stop whatever drunkness nonsense his older brother was about to spit. He shared a look with Aonung, less drunk but more confused. 

“Bro,” Lo’ak called him, “You’re too drunk. Let’s get you to bed,” he grabbed one of Neteyam’s arms, but the boy flinched away.

“I’m talking to Aonung.”

“Sticking your tongue in his mouth is not talking,” the youngest hissed, “C’mon.”

“But I can’t,” the other sobbed.

“I will carry you, huh?” Aonung stepped up, getting off the hammock to stand beside Lo’ak.

On a scale of “how drunk are you from one to ten?” when Neteyam starts to sob, whine like a baby, or is easily persuaded, he's probably a drunk nine. He was a nine even then. He stopped arguing when Aonung took his hands and helped him stand up, mumbling something about Lo'ak being boring. As they walked past the others, Lo’ak lied about his brother feeling sick, so they were just helping him go upstairs to rest. Aonung held the other until they reached his bed.

“You can go,” Aonung said while helping Neteyam slip off his shoes.

“No way,” Lo’ak differed.

“I’ll be fine,” the taller insisted, and Neteyam copied him. 

“You better—”

Aonung got up and began to push the tanned boy outside his brother’s room: “This isn't the first time I help your drunk brother put himself to sleep, Lo'ak. Won't kiss him. I swear.”

Lo'ak sighed, “You swore,” the door stayed ajar as he left.

Neteyam was already sleeping when Aonung focused on him again. He tried not to wake him up while he changed him into what he knew was his usual casual pajama: an old t-shirt and a pair of grey shorts. He deliberately chose to dress the other in his favorite band's sweatshirt, though, to keep him warm since he had opened the window. Aonung knew Neteyam would've hated the smell of alcohol in his room the morning after. He took the feather out of the dark-skinned boy's hair and untied his half-bun so he could sleep comfortably before tucking him in. Despite being asleep, Neteyam felt the other taking care of him carefully, trying his best to be gentle. He smiled softly, taking aback the latter.

“You’re enjoying this, Teyam?” Aonung teased, petting his loose braids.

“I like you.”

In his mind, Neteyam thought he was saying something about his brother, asking if he had left them alone. He didn’t realize what slipped from his lips and couldn’t decrypt Aonung’s look. Neteyam smiled, still clueless, stretching a hand toward the other boy, and felt the latter’s fingers gently link to his.

“I really like you, Aonung,” he mumbled, “You're an asshole, but you're kind to me. You always listen to me, help me, and settle for everything I ask, even when you don’t have to. And you're such a good kisser—”

“Teyam,” Aonung leaned over him and moved a lock aside, “Sleep. We’ll talk when you’re sober.”

Neteyam quieted down and quickly shut his eyes, falling over his back to sleep. The room was silent. The dark-skinned boy's soft exhales could be heard every now and then as Aonung stayed by his side, patiently waiting for the other to fall into Morpheus' arms. After a while, he stood up and tiptoed to the door, careful not to make any noise, as it was time for him to get back home with Tsireya. Neteyam rolled over in his bed.

“I like you.”

He dreamed about Aonung, saying he liked him too.

Chapter Text

Something changed between the second and third weeks since that Saturday.

Initially, Neteyam didn’t know how to identify it. He didn’t understand what was morphing through the air or, perhaps, pretended not to care, thinking it was nothing if not a little deception of his heart. On Sunday, he believed his whole plan would’ve blown up since Lo’ak had kindly told him everything that happened and unluckily, faintly, recalled how he even declared his feelings to Aonung. And yet, nothing happened. They met at the beach, and after his shift, Aonung hugged him tightly for the whole evening.

On Monday, Aonung began a series of odd behaviors. It all started with a text.

Can I come to your place? Need to talk.

Luckily, Neteyam’s family had chosen to have dinner somewhere, Lo’ak faked feeling sick, and Neteyam returned home too late from college to tag along. So, Aonung came over while the brothers secretly ate Maccas as Lo’ak requested.

"So, what's this about?" Neteyam asked as he closed his bedroom door behind him: no Lo’ak in their emergency meeting that day.

“I’ve been thinking about something, and I think we should discuss it face-to-face,” Aonung said calmly, but nothing was calm in the other boy’s mind as he listened, as he could already hear him say… “Let’s extend the PDA to real kisses.”

What?!

Neteyam was too stunned to speak or argue, so their first rule got updated. Lo'ak found it out on Tuesday, but it was already too late as Aonung was coming to pick the older Sully up for their fake date. Once again, the Metkayina boy had everything set up as he drove to a cliff nearby Awa'atlu's beaches. When he opened the truck of his jeep, Neteyam saw a bunch of blankets and a bag with some ice cream.

“Since when do you have so many Willow’s songs on your playlist?” Neteyam asked.

The sun was setting. The boys were eating comfortably, looking at the landscape before their eyes as they casually chatted about anything that came to mind. Neteyam glanced at the other, amused, as he had already counted three of his favorite artist's songs on his playlist.

“ Oh ,” Aonung blushed, “It’s not mine. It’s yours. I made it for you.”

Neteyam hated how proud the surfer looked, seeing how his efforts hadn't gone unnoticed. He later realized Aonung had even bought him a dark chocolate-flavored ice cream. It was his favorite. But he had hated him even more when, on Wednesday, the latter invited him to the town hall with his family, knowing Neteyam's classes got canceled for the day.

“Hey, babe,” Aonung pecked at his lips.

“Hi, honey,” Neteyam greeted shyly, “Thank you for inviting us,” by us, he meant him, Mo'at, his aunt and uncle, Tuk, and their cousins.

“I'm more than happy to have you here,” he chirped while opening the door to the auditorium, “Ready for some Metkayinan Haka?”

That 's why he hated him even more that day. Neteyam thought he first got a crush on Aonung when he saw him do Haka for the first time: it was the third month since the Sullys had moved over to Awa'atlu, and they were doing a pep assembly at their high school. That day, Neteyam sat in the stands with Lo'ak and Kiri when, before his eyes, he saw a hoard of students lining up.  Aonung was among the first standing, glorious and looking powerful, and was the one who started the traditional dance, Rotxo accompanied him, and soon, among the girls, Tsireya also joined. Every time he saw him perform, something moved in his stomach. Now his stomach was twisting again, painfully, as he stared at Aonung teaching a group of boys the traditional Metkayinan Haka, singing harshly in Na'vi and sometimes showing how they should've moved. And it wasn't his usual stomach twitch: it was warm and deep. It had slowly warmed up his chest, too, making his heartbeat accelerate.

That would’ve been the first of many.

"You looked handsome that night with that feather thingy hanging behind your ear," Aonung said suddenly on Thursday. They were at Kiri's coffee place, "You should wear it more."

Tsireya’s in her room listening to this Lana Del Something song. I think it suits you.

The text message came that Friday, and he had almost smashed his phone for how hard he had gripped it after looking at the song's title: Video Games.

Eventually, something began to change in Neteyam’s heart, too.

On Saturday, Neteyam realized why his heart wouldn’t stop flipping every time he had to be around Aonung: the latter was overdoing it. He was acting like the perfect boyfriend, and Neteyam hated it. He knew he had to feel lucky and grateful. Aonung was doing everything he had asked him to do for their deal. He had never complained, although being initially skeptical about it, he promptly helped him and made everything as realistic as possible, collaborating and sacrificing all his free time for Neteyam's whims. He couldn't help feeling bad, on the other hand. Because with each smile, every time the boy took his hand in his or carelessly stroked his thighs, with every "stolen" kiss they shared to greet each other in front of his family, Neteyam had to remind himself they were acting. None of it was real. And he couldn't think about why Aonung was doing so much if he knew it had to be fake and temporary.

They were now sitting in the Sullys’ living room. The fake couple was on a couch looking at Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tsireya playing board games with Tuk and the cousins while the adults were hanging in the kitchen after dinner. Neteyam’s legs were on top of Aonung’s, and he was distractingly playing with his braids as Aonung's fingers were doodling over his ankles with abstract motions. He, too, was lost in his thoughts while they looked at the players.

“Give me your 4s!”

“What? I don’t have any 4!”

“Yeah, you do! You stole me two earlier!” Lo’ak protested.

“ I stole you two earlier,” Eyma — one of the cousins — intervened, her little eyes mischievously shone, “And I’m going to steal another four!”

“How can you lose to two nine-year-olds? Again?” Kiri scoffed.

“This game is too difficult!”

“It’s Go Fish!” Kiri burst into a higher laugh, followed by the children's giggles, and Tsireya hid her smirk.

Lo'ak's eyes widened, not knowing how to defend himself: "Neteyam!" he quickly searched for his older brother's help, whining.

“Sorry, baby bro, but I can’t help you this time,” Neteyam laughed, “Go Fish is stupidly easy. Even Aonung understands it.”

“Hey!”

The room was filled with laughter when Neytiri suddenly came to them with a book, suspiciously held in her hands, Jake and her family walking behind her. Neteyam was the first to notice them, and a protest rose in his throat as soon as he saw the familiar book’s cover. His legs left Aounung’s thighs to the latter's confusion.

“Mom,” her firstborn called with a warning voice, “Don’t you dare!”

“Aonung!” Neytiri chirped, ignoring her oldest son, "Have you ever seen photos of when Neteyam was a baby?"

The answer would've been yes. Yes, Aonung had already seen them — or, at least, he saw what Neteyam wanted others to see on his social media. He also saw some pictures hanging on the Omatikaya boy’s bedroom walls, which pictured him hiking in a forest, holding a bow, or hugging a tiny Lo’ak. In those photos, he was never younger than ten years old.

“Actually, I did n't ,” the Metkayina boy grinned at the other as Neytiri handed him the photobook.

“Can I see?” Tsireya quickly got up to sit beside her brother.

"C'mon, do we have to do this?" Neteyam whined, but they were already ignoring him.

The Metkayina siblings, but especially Aonung, started to leaf through the photobook, dwelling on each photo. All the pages were covered by photos of the dark-skinned boy from when he was still a toddler up to his first/second grade. Every picture had a description under or beside them, written personally with a pen — both Jake and Neytiri wrote them, the calligraphy constantly changing. Aonung's eyes lingered on a sleepy two-years-old Neteyam napping on a hammock, then on a five-years-old Neteyam hissing like a cat to the camera. On the next page, there was an adorable younger Neteyam dressed in traditional Omatikaya clothes. Then, he saw a picture of Neteyam smiling ear to ear, holding up a fish: “First fish caught without daddy’s help!” quoted under it.

“You were dangerously adorable,” Neteyam couldn't understand Aonung's big smile.

“Who’s Jamie ?” Tsireya asked suddenly.

Neytiri and Aonung's gazes went to the picture Tsireya was pointing at, confused: Neteyam's adorable childish features weren't there. Instead, a homemade colored cardboard medal was pictured. "#1 best Omatikaya Warrior: N. Jamie" was written on it.

“My husband wanted our children to have English names as middle names,” Neytiri explained, “Neteyam is Neteyam Jamie Sully.”

Lo’ak scoffed, and the older brother was quick to hear him, “Is it amusing, Lo'ak Luke ?”

Quickly, a debate arose over the Sullys children's English middle names. Jake was defending his choice of giving Lo'ak a middle name similar if not identical to the first one. Kiri bragged about having the most beautiful one, Kiri Grace — an homage to her biological mother. Tuk didn’t know she had one, too: Tuktirey Zoe. Amid that chaos, however, Aonung continued to leaf through the pages and admire the photos. He smiled, seeing the first picture of Neteyam and Tuk together when the youngest was born. "Big brother of three, now!"

“I was being serious,” Aonung’s voice echoed in his headphones.

After looking at Neteyam’s photos, the Metkayina siblings lingered around for some minutes before returning home, with the silent promise of seeing each other again the next day. Aonung, however, had noticed that the other boy had become more shy and distant at the end of the evening and, out of nowhere, asked him to make a call as soon as he got home.

“About what?” Neteyam fidgeted with Aonung's seal plush's nose.

“About you being way too adorable as a child.”

“ Oh , right.”

“Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“I don’t like to look at my old pictures,” the Omatikaya boy admitted shyly, “I don’t know why, but... I was so puny, and it reminds me of when everyone used to make fun of me for being too delicate or girly, and I used to do my best to be more masculine.”

A minute of silence passed before a sigh could tickle his ear, “For what it's worth,” Aonung paused, “I think it's bullshit. I just saw a handsome little boy being his wonderful self, both delicate and masculine, with a beautiful bright smile that reminds me of a wonderful, dear man I now know.”

Neteyam did not answer, as he was too busy shouting silently at the plush toy. He felt his heart burst in his ribcage.

“You’re smiling, huh?” the other boy teased.

Later that night, as he was going to put himself to sleep, his phone's screen lit up. He opened the text message, and quickly warmth spread into his chest and cheeks. A photo of a much younger Aonung appeared: his hair was braided with tiny pink bows, and he wore toy earrings on his ears. Tsireya was smiling proudly beside him.

He would’ve been your friend.

On Saturday, Neteyam realized why his heart hurt even when he thought about Aonung: he was falling for him. He stared at the ceiling for minutes, in silence, after that message. He was smiling stupidly at himself, and without realizing it, tears formed in the corners of his eyes.

His imaginary honeymoon had to end as it was now the third week, and soon Neytiri’s family would've returned home. Neteyam didn’t think about it until Monday night, when he overheard Mo'at talking to her daughters and Jake, saying how much fun she had and how wise it was to choose to extend their stay. His mind was a total mess: not only did he have to deal with the new feelings he had for Aonung, but he needed to find a way to end it quickly, so he wouldn't feel worse once they would undo their little farce. His heart stung just by imagining the scene. The two of them would've looked at each other and said: "It’s done,” shaking hands before walking away, and the next day they would have behaved like friends again. How would he break up with the idea of being with Aonung, though? Because that was it. He fell in love with that charade, with Aonung's perfect boyfriend role. That day, Lo'ak had probably foreseen it when his older brother introduced Aonung as his boyfriend. He hated the idea of saying the youngest was right.

“Teyam?”

It was now Tuesday. For the first time, Neteyam had decided what to do: Aonung came to pick him up at college, and together they went first to the cinema, then dined at the beach with some takeout. The hours slipped quickly, and neither realized how late it was until Tsireya called Aonung, asking him when he would come to pick her up from Lo'ak’s. The drive back to the Sullys' house was silent, and Neteyam began to get lost in his own thoughts, nervously fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. He didn't even notice how they arrived quickly. The engine of the jeep got shut minutes ago.

“Neteyam?”

“Huh?”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I was telling you we've arrived,” Aonung looked unsure.

“Oh,” Neteyam looked up and saw his front porch.

They were all there, standing, as they were greeting Tsireya goodbye. They were waiting, too, looking at the boys inside the jeep.

“You sure everything’s fine?” Aonung asked again.

“Yeah,” Neteyam’s smile wavered, “I’m fine.”

The Metkayina boy nodded and quickly got closer. As usual, he was going to kiss him goodbye as the Omayikaya family watched them from afar. He was a breath away when Neteyam put a hand between their mouths, stopping him.

“I can’t,” the latter said.

“What?”

“I can’t,” he repeated, “Aonung, I can’t.”

“What do you mean?” the taller boy sat straight again, confused.

“We should stop this,” Neteyam bit his lower lip, “ Now .”

“Why?”

“I— can’t we just let it go?!” Neteyam was getting nervous, “They’re leaving on Saturday. Either way, we have to break this thing off, so what does it matter if we do it now or later?”

“But—”

“I’ll tell them it was a mutual decision.”

“How can it be a mutual decision if we’re arguing and they’re watching us?!” Aonung's voice went a pitch higher.

“I'll tell them something happened, and I was the one who chose to break up, alright?”

“No! Neteyam—”

“Aonung, stop !” the dark-skinned boy looked at him harshly, “Thank you for everything, but I can't keep going like this, okay? Let's end this right now, please.”

Aonung gaped and tried to argue once again, but Neteyam was faster and hopped off the jeep quickly, slamming the door a little too hard. The other boy sat and watched, stunned, as Neteyam walked quickly home. At the gate, he couldn't stop the tears that had formed in the eyes' corners, and he had to face the whole family and Tsireya on the front porch. They had already understood something was wrong from their expressions. However, without saying anything, he made his way among everyone and ran up the stairs to his room. Nobody followed him, and he was relieved by that.

It was deep in the night when he heard a soft knock on his door, he didn’t even ask who it was because he already knew the rhythm. Lo’ak opened the door and closed it, walking slowly to Neteyam’s bed.

“What happened?” 

Lo’ak hugged him and began to stroke his brother’s braids, silently, letting him melt once more between his arms.

“I broke the fifth rule,” Neteyam whispered.

Lo’ak wanted to say he already knew it. Instead, he lay beside his brother and hugged him tightly until they both fell asleep.

Chapter Text

The ride back home was deadly silent. 

Neteyam had already stormed inside his house when Tsireya sat on the passenger seat, looking preoccupied at Aonung. Just by glancing at him, however, she knew her brother was nowhere ready to talk about it, so she stayed quiet as he started the engine. Once home, Ronal was lulling her youngest son to sleep in the living room, and their family's French bulldog Ro'a was lying beside them when the Metkayina siblings walked up the entrance hallway. The boy barely greeted their mother, and Tsireya tried to distract her as the oldest ran up the stairs, hiding in his bedroom. He didn’t know why, but he was upset, extremely upset, and couldn't think straight as his only wish was to be left alone. Luckily, no one held him back, so he got to calm himself down in the darkness of his room while trying to figure out why Neteyam had done that.

Yet, he had to face his sister. He couldn't escape her. Aonung was sitting on his bed, legs nervously trembling as he stared at his phone's screen, which displayed the previous conversations with the dark-skinned boy. Aonung had already written, deleted, re-typed, and undone three texts when his bedroom door slowly opened, and Tsireya slipped inside the room. Her older brother didn’t notice her since he was too focused on biting his nails and cursing under his breath, deleting another text. “Since we were both in this thing, I have the right to…”

“Too aggressive,” Tsireya commented over his shoulder.

Aonung almost dropped his phone, taken aback: “Reya!” he screamed-whispered.

“Sorry,” deep dimples formed on her cheeks, “Forgot to knock, but I knew I would’ve found you awake.”

“You have classes tomorrow,” the older said, locking his phone, “Go to sleep.”

“I will,” she sat beside him, “After knowing what happened.”

To be honest, Aonung had thought Tsireya would be as canny as Lo'ak and that she would've called their bluff since the first day. Their mother had always bragged that she knew her son perfectly and knew everything about him before he could even reveal it, but Aonung’s real puppeteer was his younger sister. Tsireya always had eyes and ears everywhere when it came to him. She always knew his grades and when his teachers gave him detention, even before their parents. She was the one Aonung used to call when he got in trouble outside of school. Tsireya was the only one who looked unfazed when the boy had confessed to his parents that he would’ve not applied to any college, already knowing it. So, it was weird when she asked him nothing about his supposed relationship with Neteyam. 

“What do you mean you were faking it?!” his sister's jaw dropped, “ Everything? ”

“ Everything ,” the boy nodded, “But it doesn't matter anymore, I guess. I just feel bad.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Aonung paused, not knowing what to say, then he hissed, "Hell! I don't know! Because he didn't want to explain why and didn't even give me a chance to speak."

The Metkayina boy was sulking, and Tsireya looked at him with pity, fondly. Her brother had never been good at expressing his feelings or thoughts, mainly when he was in distress, and she knew he was upset by the unstopping trembling of his legs and how he kept picking on his nails while they talked. Luckily, she knew how to calm him, too. She squeezed one of his knees before she could hug him by the side, patting his shoulders. The tremble and the biting stopped, leaving Aonung gazing at his hands in the dark of his bedroom.

“I want to do something but…”

“You don’t know what to do,” Tsireya completed his phrase, “And maybe it’s best if you do nothing,” she proceeded to grab his phone, “Try to talk to him tomorrow. Now, you should just rest.”

The Metkayina girl's words had been soothing that night. Now, he only wished it would've been easy to talk to Neteyam since that boy had disappeared without saying a word. Aonung tried to reach out to him in any way: texted him multiple times, called him, and even looked for him in Kiri’s coffee shop, but nothing. Aonung didn't even see the Omatikaya boy among his family when they went to the beach.

He was gone. One hundred percent vanished.

His behavior made Aonung even more confused, leaving him filled with questions. Had he done something wrong, perhaps, offended the other in any way? Why did Neteyam hurriedly break up with him? Aonung couldn't even express his thoughts. And he had many. Also, he felt like not having the other boy around was suffocating. Since the Sullys siblings and he had smoothed things over, Aonung and the oldest Omatikaya boy quickly became good friends. They texted each other almost daily for the smallest and stupidest things. Even if they didn’t plan to hang out, they used to end up spending time together as soon as they bumped into each other. Neteyam had been the first to know about the job at the surf shop and had always come to see him, borrowing something for Tuk as an excuse to chat when he knew there was no one in the store. Aonung used to visit him at home even though he knew that the other boy most likely had to study, and despite that, Neteyam welcomed him, putting aside his books for him. It was one of his most genuine friendships, second to Rotxo’s, and he couldn't think about losing it and the other boy for their charade. If he could, he would’ve turned back time to reject Neteyam, even if it meant deleting from his memories all the great moments they had shared since their agreement.

“Should we close already?”

“Why? It isn’t even half past six in the afternoon.”

“I know, but no one’s coming!” Rotxo groaned, keeping the door open and looking around, “Look! Even the damn beach is empty.”

“C’mon, mate,” Lo’ak snorted from the storage room, “Boss isn’t even here. Let’s close!”

It was Friday. The surf shop had welcomed Lo’ak as a new entry of its staff for a week as Rotxo’s father couldn't be around much, and the two boys needed an extra pair of hands. When Neteyam broke their agreement, Aonung thought he would've seen the latter when he had to drop Lo’ak off for work. But Neteyam never showed up in those days, and Lo’ak always came on his skateboard.

Eventually, Rotxo and Lo’ak’s idea of closing the surf shop before its closing schedule won. The three boys wrapped up the things lying outside, so they could clean up the interior without hurry. Rotxo began to count their earnings while Aonung moved things around, arranging misplaced items or stocking up what had almost sold out. Lo’ak was a newbie, so he had to do boring newbie things: take out the trash, and clean the floor and the windows. Aonung later began to write down the goods they had to order again while Lo'ak was viciously scraping off something from the glass door.

“Why did your brother break off things with me?”

The question was sudden, interrupting the sound of Rotxo’s fingers typing against a calculator. For a brief moment, Lo’ak stopped what he was doing so he could turn his head toward Aonung, but the latter wasn’t looking at him, so he focused again on wiping the windows. The other Metkayina boy glanced at them — he was still clueless.

“And why on earth is he ignoring me?”

“Bro,” Lo’ak shrugged, “Honestly? I don’t know, okay? But technically , it isn’t a real breakup since you were in a fake relationship.”

“It was fake?!” Rotxo looked shocked.

“Of course it was!” both Aonung and Lo’ak screamed at him.

He quickly read the room, raised his hands, and took whatever he was doing to the storage room.

“Who cares if it was or wasn’t real,” Aonung sounded bitter, “He’s ignoring me.”

Lo’ak looked uneasy, “I really don’t know what to say.”

“Can you– I don’t know, talk to him?” the surfer asked faintly, “Or, just tell him to answer at least one of my messages?”

“I’ll try.”

Aonung had low expectations. On Saturday, he worked the morning shift to cover up Lo’ak. It was the day Neytiri’s family had to leave Hawaii to fly back to Australia. He remembered it as he saw Tsireya get dressed so she could also say goodbye at the airport. Deep in his heart, he wished he could be there. Even if he faked being Neteyam’s boyfriend, he really enjoyed being with them and grew fond of each family member. Especially Mo’at. Something ached in his heart as he realized how their last memory of Aonung would've been him sitting in his jeep while arguing with Neteyam.

He was in his room when a notification popped up on his screen.

Come 2 my house.

It was Lo’ak. He quickly sent a “ Why ?” to which the other responded: Just get here!

It took him some minutes to reach the Sullys' house. Just the thought of being there made him nervously sweat. As he walked to the front porch, he saw Lo’ak peeking through the window, and the front door opened before Aonung could even ring the bell. Lo’ak left it open as he pulled the Metkayina boy inside.

“My parents and Tuk are at the grocery store, Kiri’s at work, and I’ll be at work,” Lo’ak whispered, “You have an hour to solve this thing.”

“Wait– what?”

“Neteyam’s in his damn room,” the other boy snorted, “Home’s empty. Go talk to him!”

“But—”

“You have an hour!” he repeated in a hurry, “Bro! I’m going to work!” he later screamed before running away, slamming the door.

“ Yeah ,” someone faintly responded upstairs, a little too late.

Aonung didn’t know what to do as he awkwardly stood in the entrance hallway. He didn’t know what Lo’ak was thinking, but this wasn’t how he thought the other would’ve tried to speak with his older brother. Before he could even think about some excuse to explain to Neteyam why he was there, he heard footsteps coming from the upper floor. He looked up, and two amber eyes were staring at him. The two boys stared at each other, equally confused.

“What are you doing here?”

“Believe me,” the guest walked forward, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Neteyam was skeptical.

“Lo’ak told me to come over, then left me here.”

The other boy looked at him from afar, then scoffed, “He’s unbelievable.”

Silence fell. Now Aonung had forty minutes before the other boy’s parents could return home. He felt his palms sweaty, was nervous, and his throat dried up.

“Can we talk?” it came out almost like a plead.

“Yeah,” the Omatikaya boy gestured to follow him.

A few days had passed since the last time the Metkayina boy had entered the other boy’s bedroom, but he had somehow missed it. He had missed its white walls covered by photos and posters, the smell of traditional Omatikaya candles, and how the room was always clean. But mostly, he was missing its owner. His laptop was open with a paused movie on the screen.

“What were you watching?” 

“Lilo and Stitch,” he admitted shyly, closing the door behind them, “Don’t laugh!”

“Why would I?” Aonung giggled, though, “You know I love it.”

Neteyam would’ve liked to say that he was watching it because of it. They took a seat: the taller one sat on the bed while the other boy sat on the desk chair, closing the laptop. He looked around, and his heart warmed a little when he noticed the dark-skinned boy had still to remove his polaroids from the walls. His seal plushie was still lying on the bed, too.

“So…”

“Why did you do it?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb, Neteyam,” Aonung sighed, “You broke the plan without giving me a reason. And you’re ignoring me: I’ve texted you, called you several times, and you won’t pick up.”

Neteyam looked away, curling on the chair, not knowing what to say. His breath heavied, and Aonung noticed, so he paused.

“I think the reason is clear,” the other boys muffled.

“It’s not! Teyam, I genuinely don’t know!”

“ Ma’Ewya, Aonung! How could you be so clueless!” the latter groaned, “I fucking like you! Did I not make myself clear two weeks ago? I’ve got a crush on you since we were, I don’t know, sixteen? I’ve liked you since high school, and I made up all this fake relationship with you because you’re the only one I could’ve thought of. It’s awful, I know. But for me, it felt natural because what I pretended to feel was true. I thought it would’ve been easy, but fuck , you made it so difficult.”

“I made it difficult?”

“Yeah, you did! Because you were perfect, did everything I’ve always dreamed of, and you kept acting like a boyfriend even when no one was around. What the hell,” Neteyam blushed, “I couldn't stand it anymore. Do you know how difficult it was to hold your hand, hug you, kiss you, meanwhile knowing you were faking it? Feeling nothing?”

“Who said I felt nothing?” Aonung looked somehow offended.

“Huh?”

They stayed quiet for a few minutes before the other boy could laugh, “Don’t you remember?”

“What?”

“I said it, too,” Aonung bit his lower lip, “ That night.”

Neteyam frowned, not understanding what the other boy was talking about. The latter noticed, his eyes rolled up before he could stand up.

“You were drunk…”

The room was silent. The dark-skinned boy's soft exhales could be heard every now and then as Aonung stayed by his side, patiently waiting for the other to fall into Morpheus' arms. After a while, he stood up and tiptoed to the door, careful not to make any noise, as it was time for him to get back home with Tsireya. Neteyam rolled over in his bed.

“I like you.”

Aonung’s hand had lingered over the doorknob. He had mentally prayed to Eywa to make Neteyam pass out, but the latter was too stubborn, and maybe Eywa had plans for the two of them. His breath was heavy, and his pulse went faster as the other boy continued drunkenly whining about how much he liked the surfer. Without even thinking about it, he did the first thing that flashed into his mind. He went back to the bed and kissed him to silence him.

“I like you, too.”

Neteyam’s face got paler as he listened to the other. He couldn't believe it. So, it wasn’t a dream: Aonung had actually told him he liked him, too. He was happy, damn if he was: his eyes had lit up like they hadn’t for days. Suddenly everything was making sense, especially the last week: that playlist, Video Game, and how he didn’t want to break things up. He was smiling, but as soon as he got closer to Aonung, he grabbed the seal and beat him with it.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Aonung whined.

“No!” Neteyam argued, “What’s wrong with you !” he smacked his head, “Why the hell you didn’t tell me that the day after?!”

“I thought you remembered!”

“I was fucking drunk,” another smack, “And I was asleep!”

Aonung grabbed the other boy’s wrists and quickly pushed him toward the bed, making him fall on his back. He threw the plush toy away and pinned the boy down.

“Why on earth would I make a playlist for you?” Aonung asked.

Neteyam opened his mouth but quickly closed it.

“Why would I want to kiss you?”

Neteyam blinked, his mind numb.

“Tell me who would spend the last three days searching for you, calling and texting you non-stop.”

“You weren't acting?”

“Duh?” the Metkayina boy snorted, “Does this look fake to you?”

He quickly kissed the Omatikaya boy, cupping his cheeks and opening the latter mouth with his. They kissed deeply and slowly, neither in a hurry, melting on top of each other.

“You are so dumb,” Neteyam smiled stupidly.

“You’re even dumber,” Aonung said, still a breath away from his lips.

“Say it,” the other boy whispered, "Clearly."

“What?”

“What you feel for me,” he said, “Want to hear you say it.”

“ Skxawng ,” Aonung chuckled, “I've liked you long before you could've asked me to be your fake boyfriend, you know?”

That evening, Lo’ak returned from work holding hands with Tsireya. When he opened the door, Jake was helping Neytiri cook dinner. Tuk was in the living room showing Neteyam a drawing she had done. His eyes widened as he saw Aonung sitting beside him, a hand holding Neteyam’s thigh, leaning his body too close to him. Tuk looked away as she noticed Lo’ak, and Neteyam took advantage of it to quickly peck at Aonung's lips.

“Whoa!” Lo’ak almost screamed, “What’s happening?”

Jake and Neytiri glanced at their children, both confused and amused.

“Well,” Aonung grinned, “You told me to solve things with your brother, didn’t you? So I did.”

“Nung is Teyam’s boyfriend again!” Tuk chirped.

Tsireya started to cheer happily. Lo’ak almost threw up, noticing how both the boys’ necks had fresh dark hickeys. That so-called "professional help" had worked, but not as he initially hoped.

“So, what are the rules now?”

Later that evening, they lay down on the hammock, snuggling.

“There’s only one role,” Neteyam looked up to him, “ Love me .”

“I think I could do that,” the other boy said, getting closer.

“Oh! And bring me more of your clothes!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Aonung quickly hushed him by kissing him. Neteyam smiled.

His plan had worked too well.

Chapter Text

“ This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 54B to Sydney… ”

Neteyam's eyes lazily went from his phone to the long queue ahead of him. He clicked his tongue and shook his head briefly.

He was so tired. That night, he hadn't slept thinking about the upcoming, endless trip. Instead of sleeping, he checked and unpacked his luggage, over and over again, until he was sure he had everything. They arrived at the airport at half past five in the morning, and Neteyam had already argued twice with his siblings: first, he bickered with Lo'ak back home because the youngest had put in his backpack Neteyam's neck travel pillow. Then, on the way to the airport, he found himself arguing with Kiri because his sister wanted to nap by invading his personal space in the car. But now, he was annoyed with his dad, too. They had spent too much money on a priority pass to board the airplane first, so they could've waited seated, but no! Jake had insisted they had to wait in line.

Neteyam was exhausted and stressed, and the trip had yet to begin. He sharply inhaled when someone bumped into him without excusing themselves but relaxed as soon as he felt a warm hand resting on his lower back.

“Wanna rest for a bit?” a voice whispered against his ear.

Luckily, there was Aonung. The latter didn’t even wait for a response, gently pushing Neteyam’s head against his chest to let him rest as they stood side by side.

After years away from their homeland, the Sullys had finally decided to fly back home for the Christmas holidays. This time it would've been them visiting Neytiri's family. Eight months had passed since the Omatikaya family's last visit, and Neteyam and Aonung had been dating ever since. Officially now, and everybody knew.

“Mom,” on a Friday evening, Neytiri was on Facetime with Sylwanin and Mo’at, “I have a surprise for you,” she teased, smiling.

“What is it?” Mo'at was wary.

Suddenly, Neytiri let in the frame Aonung, who walked behind her: “Look who’s back!”

Mo'at had been the happiest, greeting Aonung again and blathering about how she knew the boys would've returned together. No one outside Lo'ak, Tsireya, Rotxo, and Kiri —Rotxo told her, this time— knew their relationship began as fake, and it was just fine like that. It would've been difficult to explain to Neteyam’s family anyway, and it didn't even matter to them as long as they were finally happy together. Ronal and Tonowari already loved Neteyam, so when their eldest son introduced him as his boyfriend, they were enthusiastic and welcomed him with open arms. Both parents joked about how they were double “in-laws” now.

Eight months into their relationship, it was time for their first big trip. Tsireya had always told Lo’ak how she wished to see where her boyfriend grew up, so inviting the Metkayina siblings came naturally. Neteyam was unsure at first. As much as he wanted his boyfriend with him, he knew Aonung had to work for Rotxo’s father’s store and didn't want him to be in trouble. But Aonung was thrilled, managed to get two weeks off, and even used his savings to buy himself the plane’s tickets. Not only was it their first couple’s trip, but it was also the first time Aonung would've gone outside of Hawaii. It was a special occasion for him.

“I can’t believe I wasted my holiday leave to get stuck between two corny couples,” Kiri mumbled suddenly.

“We’ve heard you,” Neteyam warned with his head against Aonung's chest.

Lo’ak and Tsireya were also hugging, “Bring Rotxo next time,” the younger Sully teased.

“Yeah,” Aonung sighed as he rubbed the dark-skinned boy's back, “Poor, sweet Rotxo. Left all alone for Christmas in Awa’atlu, forgotten by his—”

“Just shut up!” Kiri's snap made everyone chuckle, “You’re here only because my brother is a sap for—”

“ We’ll now be boarding passengers with the priority pass… ”

Neteyam sighed, relieved, and Aonung quickly kissed his head. He felt the hand on his back shaky.

The Sullys and the Metkayina siblings had also paid extra money to reserve their seats, not wanting to spend ten hours, if not more, sitting far away. Lo’ak and Tsireya sat by the right window, Aonung, and Neteyam just behind them, while Jake, Neytiri, Tuk, and Kiri sat on the aisle row beside the first couple. A sudden pressure grew in his chest as a flashback ran through Neteyam's mind, remembering their flight when they had to move to Hawaii. It was the same seats, the only difference being he wasn't beside Lo'ak. He felt inexplicably sad but happy at the same time. All the memories of that day resurfaced: he began to think of how Lo'ak had never been so silent in his life and the anguish he felt, seeing his homeland grow smaller and smaller before his eyes. He felt teary at the only thought of being able to see his old house again after years when he suddenly noticed a squirm beside him.

Aonung was heavy breathing.

“Babe?”

“Yeah?” the Metkayina boy’s voice was shaky, too.

“What’s up?” Neteyam squeezed the other’s hand.

“I’ve just realized we’ll fly,” he was staring at the screen before him.

The dark-skinned boy gasped: “Are you– scared?” and the taller boy nodded.

Lo'ak, who had been peeping, loudly chuckled before Tsireya could force him to look away. Neteyam rolled his eyes. He was worried about Aonung’s sudden confession but was also trying his best not to laugh. He hated how ridiculously dumb his boyfriend was, but he loved it. Aonung had been so excited about his first overseas vacation with Neteyam that he forgot his own fears. The Omatikaya boy rubbed a hand on his boyfriend's strong shoulders before kissing the hand he was still squeezing.

“I’m here with you,” he smiled reassuringly, “No need to be scared. We’ll have a nice flight. You just need to relax.”

Their flight was indeed nice: at first, however, Aonung thought he would have fainted at any moment. He fought internal demons not to scream as the plane tilted and regretted having taken the window seats as his eyes stared at the ocean. But then, Neteyam helped him relax. He stroked his forearm gently, his short fingernails softly scratching his sand skin. They talked about anything, whispering to each other. Neteyam later grabbed his laptop, opened some snacks, and shared his headphones with Aonung. They watched a movie, so the latter would've stopped looking nervously outside the windows. Six hours into their flight, the Omatikaya boy fell asleep and cuddled up to the other boy, who looked at him fondly. When he woke up, he found Tuk sitting on the Metkayina boy’s legs while they were watching some cartoons, laughing.

Almost eleven hours later, they landed in Sydney. They had to drive another three hours before reaching the Sullys' old hometown: a small city near Canberra. Aonung knew their city had the biggest Omatikaya community as Awa’atlu had the Metkayina’s. Neteyam had told him his old neighborhood was of Omatikaya families but never realized how big it was until they drove down the street. They were all there. Everyone was waiting for their arrival in front of the Sullys' house. As if it weren’t overwhelming enough, it seemed they already knew about Tsireya and Aonung, greeting them as if they had already met, casually like family.

“So this is where my little Neteyam Jamie slept,” Aonung smiled.

After the big welcome, they all unpacked and decided to rest at home for the evening. Aonung and Tsireya were looking around, discovering every inch of the old house. The surfer boy was in Neteyam's old room, a finger lingering over the scratched door frame where Jake used to keep track of his eldest son’s height.

“Can you drop my middle name already?”

the Metkayina boy ignored him, “You were so tiny, I could cry,” he pouted, his finger on the eight y.o: 123cm (4’0.4 inches).

“Then puberty hit,” Neteyam got closer and smiled, too.

“You’re still tiny,” Aonung smirked, hugging the other boy and leaning over.

“I’m tall!”

They both laughed. The Omatikaya boy leaned against the wall, and Aonung followed, leaning even closer so they could kiss. It had been a long trip, always surrounded by other people, and they were craving each other's kisses, cuddles, and touches. Neteyam's slim fingers got tangled in his boyfriend's wavy hair while he deepened the kiss, sighed as…

“Door stays open rule applies everywhere!” Jake abruptly opened the door.

“Dad!”

The next day, everyone was ready to begin their trip.

For the first three days, the Sullys carried their guests around the city: they visited the old children’s schools, some touristic spots, and the nature reserve where Neytiri used to work alongside Tsu'tey. On the third day, Mo'at led them to the sacred place where Omatikaya traditionally rested. It looked like a forest, but Aonung later learned that every tree represented a passed-away person. Kiri sat for minutes before her biological mother's tree in silence, Jake beside her for all time. Neteyam and Lo'ak lead Aonung and Tsireya to a big tree covered by traditional decorations. At its feet were many gifts and flowers, and a name was carved on a wooden plaque: Eytukan. It was their late grandfather. Without thinking twice, the Metkayina boy took off his necklace, a shark tooth one he had worn since high school, and placed it between the many gifts.

“Next time, I'll replace it with a better gift,” Neteyam got moved at the promise.

They drove two hours to where Jake's twin brother lived on Christmas. It was a beach city, and the Metkayina siblings felt at home. Needless to say: they surfed. Tom recognized the surfer boy as the Cool Shop Bloke and got surprised when Neteyam introduced him as his boyfriend. They spent their time with Neytiri's family the following days, and Neteyam was collecting new, countless polaroids of Aonung. In one, the Metkayina boy was drinking a homemade traditional Omatikaya herbal tea with Tuk; in another, he stood beside a kangaroo, mocking his posture, and had two other pictures holding a koala — in the first polaroid, he looked scared. One of the dark-skinned boy's favorites was one Tsireya took for them: he was teaching the other boy how to tend a bow, but the latter focused on his boyfriend's lips instead.

On New Year's Eve, Kiri came with a surprise. They had no idea how to spend it since Neytiri's family traditionally celebrated it by Na'vi's old calendar, and it was too late to find a low-cost place to rent in Sydney. So they had already yielded to the idea of spending a quiet New Year's Eve when the girl found a solution.

“Spider is having a party!”

Lo'ak cheered a little too loud, “Who’s Spider?” Aonung was confused.

“An old classmate of mine,” Neteyam looked unfazed as he was looking at his phone, “He's still best friends with Lo'ak and Kiri.”

Tsireya smirked, "Oh, that Spider ? The one Rotxo's always jealous of?"

“No way I'm betraying my best friend like that!” Aonung argued.

He ended up joining. Not that he had a better choice: either that party or staying alone at home with Jake and Neytiri while watching some cartoons with Tuk. He didn't even want to miss his midnight kiss with Neteyam. Kiri had told them Spider was an old early teenage crush, but it looked like the blonde boy still felt something since he was treating them like VIP guests. He welcomed them, made drinks for them, and even cleared up a table in the backyard for them. The music was loud enough to make someone deaf, and Neteyam quickly began to dance while Aonung remained seated, eyeing him. He stood up only when he saw Spider approaching him, starting to dance too close. He nodded at the host before he could get in between them, placed his hands on the Omatikaya boy’s hips, and started to kiss him.

“Thought you didn't want to dance,” Neteyam teased.

“You called me,” the other boy screamed in his ear.

Neteyam frowned, “No, I didn’t.”

“Well, your lips did,” he claimed cornily.

They had their midnight kiss and something more later at home.

A few days later, almost at the end of their trip, they celebrated Omatikaya's New Year's Eve. It was unique since they would've had to join a traditional party, with traditional prayers and later celebrations. Mo'at would have to host it as the religious official, Neytiri, and Sylwanin alongside their mother. They had to go to Mo’at’s Eywa's sanctum, but first, they had to prepare. Aonung didn't know it until he saw Neteyam entering his room with some bowls in his hands.

“Take off your shirt,” the dark-skinned boy said.

“What?”

“I said,” he rolled his eyes, setting everything on the floor, “Take off your shirt. Come here,” and sat on the floor.

White and gold paints were on the bowls, and the boy lit a candle as his boyfriend sat in front of him shirtless.

“It’s part of the tradition,” the Omatikaya boy explained.

The Metkayina boy stared at the other as he dipped his fingers in the white paint. They stayed quiet as Neteyam started to stroke white lines and circles across his lover's skin, and sometimes he hummed something. Aonung didn't question anything, trusting the other blindly. He said he was part of his traditions, so the boy didn't need further explanation as he loved the thought of being part of it. Quickly, his chest got covered up by white and gold paint, and now the shorter boy was painting his face. During those eight months, the Metkayina boy had done a traditional chin tattoo, so Neteyam did his best not to cover it up.

“You know,” Neteyam whispered, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I am, too,” the other boy smiled.

A finger lingered along his flat, upturned nose: “It means so much to me,” he said, “You have no idea. Seeing you connect with my roots, follow my traditions, and enjoy your time with my family. It’s beautiful.”

“You had to learn Metkayina's way of water, my way of water,” a finger slipped on his lips, “Now, it's my time to learn your way.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a few minutes, and Neteyam smiled uncontrollably, his eyes glowing with happiness. He never expected that the stubborn, hot-headed guy who couldn’t think of anything but surfing, which he liked so much during high school, would become his boyfriend. So loving, sweet, and mesmerizing. He leaned closer, and Aonung met him halfway for a kiss.

“I See you,” Neteyam bit his lower lip shyly.

Aonung giggled, “I See you, Ma’Teyam .”