Beautiful Lie |Ao'nung x Neteyam|

Chapter 2

Neteyam was holding Tuk, standing in the water as he waited with his siblings for Ao'nung and Tsireya to arrive when he heard Lo'ak's loud laughter ringing right in his ear.

Lo'ak leaned closer to Neteyam to whisper in his ear. "Fish lips got beat up again, look bro."

Neteyam turned away slightly, hiding his bruised knuckles. "He probably deserved it."

Ao'nung, having heard them, only rolled his eyes, and clicked his throat, calling for their ilus before Tsireya could even say a word. The Metcayina had a new, dark bruise on his cheek; this wound was on the other side of his face, not the one Lo’ak had abused.
Neteyam scoffed, letting Tuk go so she could run to the ilu she usually trained with. As always, Kiri disappeared somewhere on her own, leaving Tuk to Rotxo and Lo’ak to Tsireya. Neteyam never complained about having to train with Ao’nung, but secretly he prayed that one day Ronal would beat some sense into her only son. Ao’nung, to Neteyam, could be the most insufferable person, even more so than that one girl back home who refused to accept that the Omaticaya did not want to mate with her. Once, he complained to his father about her – Jake had looked at him funny, promptly shutting Neteyam up and making him flee their home with burning cheeks and a wildly beating heart.

Ao’nung made his heart beat at much the same rhythm, only Neteyam was annoyed by him, not flustered.

“You are still doing it all wrong, forest boy.” Ao’nung was looking at him with a smug smirk on his face, enjoying the Omaticaya’s failure.

Neteyam had to take a deep breath before turning to the other male, adjusting the way he was sitting on his ilu. “Better?”

Neteyam was going to be the bigger person; he most certainly will not punch Ao’nung again. He would have loved to beat that overly confident, mocking look off his stupidly handsome face – Neteyam faltered, shaking his head – Ao’nung was the Olo’eyktan’s son. That was the only reason Neteyam did not fight him again right then and there.

“What are you shaking your head at, you weirdo?” Ao’nung snorted. “Having a conversation with the voices in your head?”

Neteyam pursed his lips. He was not going to lie. “I was thinking about beating your face in, fish lips.”

Ao’nung, taken by surprise, opened his mouth only to close it again. He shrugged and stepped back. “If you can make it five minutes without falling off, I might let you.”

The forest na’vi knew very well he did not stand a chance, so he ignored Ao’nung’s bet. “I do not need your permission for that. You fight like a child still learning to walk—”

Ao’nung grabbed his thigh, yanking it into place, nails digging into the soft flesh of the inner part; Neteyam bared his fangs, making Ao’nung laugh loudly.
“You do not even have fangs. It looks foolish when you do that.”

Neteyam prayed to Eywa so she may give him strength and better self-control. Eywa ignored him.

“Let go.”

Ao’nung tilted his head, grinning. He tightened his hold on Neteyam’s thigh. “Or what? You’re going to blush even more?”

Neteyam’s ears pulled back. He grabbed Ao’nung’s wrist and pressed his nails into the tender, teal skin. Ao’nung hissed in warning before letting go and patting the ilu’s side, sending the creature flying forward into the ocean. Neteyam had not been holding on.

The forest na’vi fell backwards, plummeting into the water with a startled shout and a deep inhale; his lungs hurt as he spun upside down, barely avoiding hitting his head against a rock before he finally managed to stand again, coughing. Ao’nung’s cruel amusement filled his ears before someone was by his side, grabbing his upper arm protectively as he wheezed.

“What the hell, fish lips?!” His brother hissed, patting his back to get the water out. “Are you out of your mind?”

“He was asking for it,” Ao’nung hummed innocently, raising his arms in surrender. He ignored Tsireya’s disappointed sigh as she hurried over to Neteyam, inspecting him for any wounds.

Lo’ak breathed out deeply through his nose before turning his back on Ao’nung. “Bro, are you good?”

“Just fucking peachy, Lo’ak,” Neteyam grumbled out in English, rubbing water from his eyes once he managed to stop coughing.

Their lesson ended there.

The Sully children wandered home, all of them forgetting the incident fairly quickly – except for Neteyam, who was planning his revenge. Neteyam enjoyed the freedom to cause trouble. Back home, the elders expected as much from him as his own father if not more. Now, Neteyam chuckled to himself, his father did not know a thing, too busy learning himself. Neteyam was sure Tonowari was a better teacher than Ao’nung.

“Neteyam,” his father’s voice rang out, making him frown. He had barely stepped inside the marui and Jake was already cornering him against the wall, grabbing his wrist. “What is this?”

Neteyam let his father lift his arm, showing off the fresh bruises on his knuckled. Lo’ak watched, eyes wide as realization dawned on him.

"Sorry, sir."

"Don’t sorry sir me, Neteyam.” Jake’s eyes trailed down, landing on his son’s leg. The corners of his mouth curved downwards, and his brows furrowed. Neteyam followed his father’s gaze and pursed his lips. Blood was running down his leg where Ao’nung had grabbed him. His sister seemed to notice his wounds too as she gasped and came over, only to be sent away by their father. Kiri rolled her eyes and busied herself with redoing some of Tuk’s undone braids.

Neteyam averted his gaze, hating the way his father was staring down at him.

“Who did that?” Jake demanded.

“I fell, sir.”

“I’m going to give you one last chance to tell me, Neteyam.” Jake grasped his shoulder, making Neteyam look up into his father’s eyes, lips parted but not saying a word. “Those are nail-marks. You did not fall.”

Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek, looking away again. “It does not matter.”

Lo’ak stepped up beside them. “It was me, dad. We were practising fighting."