Dancing with the Bullets |Ao'nung x Neteyam|

Chapter 8

Neteyam writes. It's a thing he sometimes does.

His father, and the scientists taught him how to, and gave him a little leather bound book full of empty pages. A journal.

"What's this?" A shadows falls over him, a familiar voice ringing in his ears.

His heartbeat picks up, cheeks tinting, until he realises who it is. He drops his tensed shoulders and exhales shakily. "It's nothing. Just...writing."

Ao'nung hums, head tilting. He's chewing on something, probably one of those berries that soften into a gummy texture and eventually lose taste. People don't really eat those, they just chew on them for fun. Or something. Neteyam has never tried one before, but chewing non-stop for an hour or too just seems too tiring for him.

"It doesn't look like our writing," Ao'nung comments as he sits down next to the Omaticaya by the shore, dipping his toes into the ocean waters.

Neteyam shakes his head and clears his throat. "No."

"Is it a sky-people thing?" The Metcayina asks, leaning closer. His shoulders brush against Neteyam's subtly.

"Ah, yeah. There's different letters..."

"What did you write about?" Ao'nung asks, eyes darting around the foreign shapes and squiggles.

The forest na'vi's skin errupts in goosebumps. He shivers from the light touch of the other male's skin on his own. His mouth suddenly feels really dry. One those gummies would probably be nice right now. "Random... Random knowledge I have on the sky people...And their star...?"

"Are you asking me?" Ao'nung chuckles, fingertips running over the smooth white paper-collection. "Why are the pages together like this?"

"It's a ... book." Neteyam glances around helplessly, feeling utterly exposed. He needs to calm down. Ao'nung cannot even read, much less understand what Neteyam wrote. Half of it is in English, the other half is na'vi, sure, but it's all written in foreign letters.

"What does this say?" Ao'nung points to a line near the middle of the text.

'I feel so utterly alone, it does not seem like it would matter if I just vanished all-together.'

Neteyam inhales shakily through his nose and glances to the side, cheeks burning. He feels dizzy. "Cats are a type of animal. Hu... Humans love them because they're small and cute."

Ao'nung tilts his head, chewing slowly. He hums, processig the information, glancing between the text and Neteyam. "So, you're a cat."

Neteyam blinks, mouth parted. "What?"

The Metcayina grins smugly. "You're a cat."

"I'm not a cat!" Neteyam stutters out, affronted. He tugs his journal back and slams it shut. He stands hurriedly, nearly dropping his things.

Ao'nung follows, and grabs his by the wrist, keeping him in place with a loose, almost tender grip. "Are you actually upset by what I said?"

"No-"
It makes me feel stupidly fuzzy inside.
"I just remembered that I have chores."

The taller nods, but doesn't let go. Instead, he turns Neteyam's hand up and caresses his palm with his thumb. "If you say so."
Ao'nung sighs softly and shakes his head, but his eyes linger on a string of shells along Neteyam's wrist. "Who gave you that?"

Neteyam shrugs, feeling sick to his stomach. "Does it matter?"

Ao'nung frowns, he stops chewing and fully turns to face Neteyam, standing face-to-face. "Not to me. But it is a courting gift."

Neteyam stands still, frozen. It feels as though he's been doused with gasoline and set on fire. "It's a what?"

"You accepted without knowing what it is?" Ao'nung raises a hairless brow, amusement tugging at his lips. He cannot contain a soft chuckle at Neteyam's mortified silence. "Did you actually?"

Neteyam pulls his arm back and covers his gaping mouth, horrified. "It's a courting gift?!"

"One a man gives." Ao'nung pretends to be interested in his fingernails, flat tail swishing lazily.

"There's a difference?" Neteyam squeaks out.

"Why are you so panicked?" Ao'nung asks. "Do you not like him that much?"

"No, it's fine... It's just..." Neteyam shakes his head. Ao'nung should not know. He does not need to know. Still, he spills. "I got... two."

"This colour?" The Metcayina asks, feigning indifference. "That's interesting."

"The other is pink," Neteyam admits, stomach churning. He curls in on himself a little bit, toes clenched and burried in the sand.

Ao'nung turns his head away, rolling his eyes. "It's from a woman then. Which one?"

Neteyam shakes his head mutely.

The taller male waits a little, watching Neteyam's flustered face. He then shrugs. "Good thing you did not wear both at the same time."

Neteyam drops his notebook and covers his face with both hands. "My father is going to drown me and hang me up to use me as a curtain."

Ao'nung's eyes widen. He stares, bewildered for a moment, before he cackles in amusement, snatching Neteyam's book from the sand and flicking through the pages carelessly. "Surely, he will do no such thing. You are old enough. I would expect he'd be happy for you."

Neteyam cannot keep himself from grimacing. "Somehow, I doubt that."

"You can always give them back," Ao'nung replies, watching Neteyam's face.

Neteyam shakes his head, fingers tangling in his braids. "That would be so incredibly rude of me."

"Well, you cannot mate with two people," Ao'nung comments, brows pinched. "Well, technically, you could. But I doubt anyone would want to share you."

"Eywa, please shut up. There will be no sharing-" Neteyam snatches the book back from Ao'nung and groans, lightly hitting himself in the forehead.

The Metcayina chuckles quietly, hands coming to cover Neteyam's own. He pulls the smaller male's hands down and grins, all fangs. "You're a popular one, aren't you?"

"God, don't say that. What am I supposed to do now?" Neteyam whines, shoulders hanging in defeat.

"Let them compete." A grin forms on Ao'nung's face, eyes twinkling with mishief, utterly delighted by something. "See which one can win you over first."

Startled, the Omaticaya shakes his head, eyes wide, He lets Ao'nung hold his hands (why wouldn't he? He's so absolutely in love) and tries not to panic too much. "No-"

"Why not?" Ao'nung teases, smirking. "Is there perhaps someone completely different that you'd rather have?"

How spot on, Neteyam thinks. Still, he shakes his head. "No!"

"So you do like one of them," Ao'nung comments, clicking his tongue. He sneaks an arm around Neteyam's waist and tugs him closer so fast, that the Omaticaya cannot even begin to rwact before he finds himself chest to chest with the other male. "That means you won't like me doing this, yes?"

Neteyam squirms around weakly. "Exactly. Let go of me."
He holds his book in one hand awkwardly, the other resting on Ao'nung's shoulder, pretending to be pushing him away, but by Eywa, he wants nothing more than to press closer instead and wraps his arms around the Metcayina- no. He wants to get away. He needs to. He should.

He isn't someone worthy of Ao'nung's devotion. Is he?