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His gaze always found its way back to the same person: Neteyam.
Jake Sully’s eldest son strode along the shoreline as though he belonged there, every movement effortless, every step sure. Perfection seemed to cling to him in ways Aonung could never ignore: the straight set of his shoulders, the calm confidence in his voice, the strong lines of his body, the way people naturally gravitated toward him.
He was everything a warrior was supposed to be: deadly with a bow, devoted to his family, respected by all. Toruk Makto couldn’t have asked for a better heir.
And Aonung…
Aonung, on the other hand, was just the Olo’eyktan’s son… a hotheaded, arrogant boy who had done little to prove he deserved his place, aside from being born into it.
“What could he possibly see in me?” he wondered, his fists tightening at his sides.
Ever since the Sullys had arrived, Neteyam seemed to draw every eye wherever he went. Aonung had heard plenty of stories by now. He knew Neteyam turned down every courtship attempt with the same gentle kindness, whether it came from Metkayina girls or boys enchanted by the newcomer and his easy charm.
There was always that warm smile, a small shake of his head, and the same soft response: “I’m grateful, but I’m sorry. My heart isn’t ready for that yet.” And even after being rejected, people walked away more captivated than before, unable to find fault in the grace with which he let them down.
And Aonung knew that if he ever gathered the courage to confess his own feelings, he would receive that exact same answer. Why wouldn’t he? At the beginning, he had mocked the Sullys. He had nearly gotten Lo’ak killed in the deep waters. Neteyam had forgiven him, Aonung knew that much. But he also knew that after everything that had happened, the Omatikaya warrior would never look at him as anything more than a friend.
One day, as he walked along the woven pathways near the sea, he saw them. Neteyam was with Sey’itan, one of Aonung's closest friends.
The other boy came from a well-known family of hunters and carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who had always been respected within the clan. They sat side by side at the edge of the walkway, their feet trailing in the shallow water.
Their conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by bursts of laughter, and Neteyam looked utterly at ease in his company. The way he listened, the way he smiled at him... it felt intimate in a way Aonung couldn't ignore.
Aonung froze where he stood and sharp stab of jealousy pierced his chest, but it was quickly swallowed by something worse... Sadness. “It’s too late”, he thought.
Before either of them could notice him, he turned away and hurried off. His heart pounded against his ribs, and a painful sting burned behind his eyes.
That same afternoon, just as they had planned a few days earlier, they made their way down to the beach for an improvised picnic.
A small blanket lay spread across the sand, surrounded by bowls of fruit, fish, and soup. It was meant to be a small celebration. Aonung had recently earned his second tattoo, and Neteyam, genuinely happy for him, insisted on turning the occasion into something worth celebrating, even if Aonung protested every step of the way.
But he had never been particularly good at telling Neteyam no. Unfortunately, he had a weakness for him that would probably never fade completely.
“I spent the whole afternoon cooking with my mother," Neteyam said as he settled cross-legged across from him. "I hope you like it.”
Aonung eyed the food suspiciously.
“Are you sure none of it’s poisoned?” he asked. “I’d rather not die today.”
Neteyam laughed and lightly punched Aonung in the chest at the joke, earning a faint smile from him.
As they ate, they caught up on everything they hadn’t had the chance to talk about during the week: the expeditions they’d made into old human territory, whatever trouble Lo’ak had gotten himself into this time, new things they had learned, and stories about the forests where Neteyam had grown up.
His golden eyes lit up every time he spoke, there was an excitement in his voice that seemed impossible to contain. He looked... happy, radiant. Happier than Aonung had ever seen him.
Was it because of Sey’itan?
Meanwhile, Aonung had barely touched his food. His thoughts kept drifting back to the image of Neteyam and his friend sitting together by the water.
“Is something wrong?” Neteyam set his bowl down on the blanket and leaned forward slightly, a small frown appeared on his face as he got a better look at Aonung’s expression. “You’ve been acting different these past few weeks.”
“It’s nothing.” Aonung replied quickly. “I’m fine, Neteyam.”
The Omatikaya narrowed his eyes, his lips pressing into a disapproving line.
“You’re lying.”
“It’s nothing, I already told you.” Aonung insisted, forcing a small smile. “I’m just… tired.”
Neteyam studied him for a few more seconds, as though weighing his options, whether to push further or let it go. In the end, he straightened and rose to his feet.
“I’ll be right back, I need to grab something from my marui.” He pointed a finger at him before turning away. “Stay here, okay?”
Aonung was left alone with nothing but the sound of the waves crashing against the coral. The minutes dragged on endlessly, what if Neteyam had decided to leave because he noticed something was wrong? What if he had ruined the entire evening with his mood?
But then Neteyam returned.
Aonung turned toward him and immediately noticed something clutched in his hands. He was walking slower than usual, his shoulders slightly hunched and his ears pinned back against his head. His tail swayed restlessly behind him, and even after sitting down beside Aonung, the tip continued to flick through the sand.
“This…” Neteyam murmured, extending his hands toward him. “This is for you.”
Flowers... A small bouquet made of several stems gathered together.
The petals were long and curved outward, their color a soft pearly white, while delicate golden stamens adorned the center of each bloom. Aonung recognized them immediately, they were his favorite. He had rarely had the chance to admire them up close. The flowers only grew in the cracks of steep seaside cliffs, places so dangerous that he had never managed to reach them himself.
“How did you...?”
Carefully, he accepted the bouquet and brought it closer, breathing in the sweet fragrance. Up close, they were even more beautiful.
“I went this morning on my ikran, before training.” Neteyam flashed him a crooked smile as he settled back down in front of him, noticeably closer than before. “It wasn’t that difficult.”
Aonung stared at the flowers in silence, Neteyam rubbed the back of his neck.
“I noticed you’ve seemed a little down lately, so..." his ears twitched awkwardly. “I talked to one of your friends, Sey'itan.” the name made something twist inside Aonung's chest. “I asked him about things you like, something that might cheer you up. He told me these were your favorite flowers.”
Aonung’s head snapped up. His blue eyes widened in surprise, his pupils immediately dilating. A dark turquoise blush spread across his cheeks and crept up the edges of his ears.
Neteyam took a slow breath and shifted a little closer until their knees brushed.
“I don’t know what's been bothering you, Aonung.” he said softly. “But I wanted to see you smile again, I miss your smile.” his gaze flickered briefly to the bouquet still resting in Aonung's hands. “So... I hope this makes you happy.”
The silence that followed was thick, but not uncomfortable.
Aonung had no idea what to say.
He didn’t know how to thank him for something like this, nor how to put into words the warmth blooming inside his chest. More than that, he still hadn’t fully processed the fact that his own thoughts had misled him.
Neteyam wasn’t interested in Sey’itan, he never had been. The only reason he had sought him out in the first place was to learn more about Aonung himself.
Neteyam leaned forward, and his lips brushed softly against Aonung's cheek just beneath his cheekbone, the kiss was brief and shy. He pulled away almost immediately, as though startled by his own courage.
And Aonung’s heart slammed against his ribs.
When Neteyam drew back, his golden eyes searched for Aonung’s. There was a hint of embarrassment in them, but he didn’t retreat. Instead, he reached for Aonung’s hand and laced their fingers together, holding on firmly. It was a gentle gesture, one Neteyam had never shared with him before.
Just like that, every worry that had been weighing on Aonung’s heart seemed to vanish.
“Neteyam…”
His voice came out low and rough. He bit his lower lip and let out a quiet breath, releasing some of the nervous tension coiled inside him.
“They're perfect… Thank you.”
He squeezed Neteyam’s hand and looked down at the flowers once more, letting his gaze drift across every petal as though he wanted to memorize them.
For the first time all week, a genuine smile spread across his face. A soft laugh escaped Neteyam almost immediately, relief flickering across his features at the sight of it.
After that, they continued eating together. The flowers rested in Aonung’s lap, and neither of them let go of the other's hand for the rest of the afternoon.