Chapter Text
Every morning starts with the same routine.
Neteyam would arrive on the executive floor ten minutes before Ao’nung. Hot coffee already on the polish walnut desk. The day schedule printed and color-coded beside a stack of files that needed his signature. Overnight emails would already be sorted by priority, meetings confirmed, and anything that could interrupt the day’s workflow dealt with before the office even came to life.
Somewhere over the past five years, it had become a habit.
A painfully efficient, slightly miserable habit.
The receptionist would greet him with a quiet smile as he passed. The marketing team had long stopped asking how he managed to keep up with the impossible pace of the company’s CEO. New employees often assumed he never slept.
They weren’t entirely wrong.
At precisely eight-thirty, the elevator chimed.
Conversations died almost instantly.
Keyboards clicked a little faster, employees quietly returned to their desk as if the computer screen suddenly became fascinating. Even the interns had learned to keep their voices low whenever the CEO stepped out of the elevator.
Ao'nung carried that kind of presence.
Tall, impeccably dressed, tailored charcoal suits fit him perfectly as he walked through the office with the same composed expression that had earned him an almost intimidating reputation throughout the company. The only sound accompanying him was the steady click of polished shoes against the marble floor.
“Good morning, sir,” several employees greeted.
He gave them nothing more than a slight nod before continuing toward his office.
Never commented on the coffee waiting on his desk.
Never thanked Neteyam for reorganizing an impossible schedule.
Never acknowledged the countless details that made his day run seamlessly.
He simply walked in, placed his briefcase down, and worked as if everything had magically arranged itself.
Neteyam had long been convinced that his CEO had been born without the ability to say “thank you.”
Not that he was asking for a standing ovation.
A simple good morning would’ve been nice.
Or perhaps a smile
Anything, really.
Five years.
Some days, he wondered why he bothered putting in so much effort. He practically lived at the company, often arriving before sunrise and leaving long after the office lights had gone dark. Somewhere between endless documents, overflowing inboxes, and impossible deadlines, he had forgotten what it felt like to have an actual weekend.
Neteyam had somehow become the unofficial manager of his boss’s entire existence.
Coffee? Done.
Meetings? Scheduled.
Lunch? Ordered.
Because Ao'nung would forget to eat if left unsupervised. What a miserable workaholic.
Travel plans? Booked.
Boss’s life crisis? Somehow also Neteyam’s problem.
Sometimes he wondered whether he was a secretary or a highly expensive life-support system.
Jeez—he deserves hazard pay
Or at least a vacation...
To be honest…sometimes he missed the days where his only concern was whether Central Cove or Niawi City would make a better ‘afternoon’ getaway. When weekends meant impromptu vacations, luxury hotels, and shopping until his he got bored
Then his father decided enough was enough.
One conversation with an old family friend later, Neteyam found himself on a one-way flight to the sleepy reef-side suburbs—where, according to Jake Sully, he was finally going to learn how the ‘real world’ worked.
A ‘noble’ goal
At least that was what his father called it.
Neteyam personally believed being removed from the city’s convenience, endless entertainment, and perfectly good coffee shops counted as a form of character development no one had asked for.
Apparently, surviving without a driver, a familiar skyline, and a café that knew his order by heart was supposed to build ‘resilience’.
Tragic.
Still, he packed his bags, boarded the plane, and told himself he wasn’t being dramatic.
He was simply accepting the reality that his new home was somewhere so quiet that the biggest event of the week was probably going to be someone’s neighbor buying a new fishing boat.
How exciting
.⚀.
Nothing about the day seemed unusual.
The same quiet office, the same endless meetings, same familiar figure sitting behind the desk. Neteyam had expected another ordinary day.
He had gotten used to the silence between them. The quiet nods. The lack of unnecessary conversation. The way Ao'nung could spend an entire day beside him without saying more than a handful of words.
It was normal. Annoying, but normal.
Until it wasn’t.
Neteyam had just placed the final document on Ao'nung’s desk when something strange crossed his mind.
Not his mind. Someone else’s.
He looks tired today.
Neteyam froze.
Because Ao'nung hadn’t said anything.
He was still sitting behind his desk, calmly reading through a document as if nothing unusual had happened. His expression remained completely unreadable, the same composed face he wore during every meeting, every negotiation, every moment that required him to pretend he wasn’t surrounded by chaos. Unaware of Neteyam, who’s currently questioning his own sanity.
That was impossible
Five years of working beside Ao'nung had taught Neteyam many things. He knew the man’s habits, his moods, his preferences, and the exact amount of patience required before Ao'nung’s already limited tolerance disappeared completely.
But his thoughts? No.
That was a line Neteyam had never crossed. He had absolutely no desire to.
Ao'nung’s thoughts were probably just as intimidating as he was. Probably filled with complaints about deadlines, meetings, or someone’s formatting choices in a report.
That would make sense. That would be normal.
Unfortunately, the next thought proved otherwise.
He changed the coffee brand again. Good. The old one was too bitter.
Neteyam’s eyes slowly moved toward the cup sitting on the desk.Then back to Ao'nung.
No.
There was no way.
Absolutely no fucking way.
Maybe he imagined it. Maybe the lack of sleep was catching up to him
Neteyam stood there for a moment, completely unsure whether he was more concerned about the fact that he could hear Ao'nung’s thoughts or the fact that his emotionally unavailable boss was silently keeping track of his coffee preferences
That was extremely unexpected.
And somehow, it was the most interesting thing that had happened during these past painfully boring years.
Neteyam found himself staring at Ao'nung, curiosity slowly replacing his confusion.
For the first time, he had discovered something hidden beneath that cold, unreadable exterior.
And honestly, Neteyam found himself strangely entertained by the discovery~