[Neteyam x Omaticaya reader]
Warnings: Slight bullying / verbal harassment. (Inexperienced) Kissing. Slow burn. Childhood best friends -> lovers. Fluff (,,>ďš<,,)
Synopsis: After a long childhood spent side by side, you and Neteyam grow inseparable, bound by years of quiet mutual feelings. One day, he asks you if you've ever seen your parents kiss. What could come of it?
Neteyam had been part of your life for as long as you could remember. You met him when you were small enough that the memory felt soft around the edges, but you would surely never forget it. You were younger, around four years old , smaller, and too quiet for your own good, when a group of older children had decided you were easy entertainment.
Youâd been sitting on the forest floor, knees tucked close, carefully watching a colony of tiny insects carry fragments of leaves back to their nest with your mouth open in awe. You were so focused you almost didnât notice the laughter behind you. Almost.
It crept in slowly, reaching your ears with a sharp and cruel unfamiliarity.
You froze, unsure what you had done wrong. Their voices tangled together behind you, words half-whispered and half-mocking, close enough to feel but not close enough to understand. You didnât turn around to face the mockery. You just stayed in place, heart thudding quietly in your chest, hoping if you stayed still and quiet enough, they would lose interest.
But, unfortunately, they didnât.
You didnât understand what was so funny. You were just watching the insects. They were interesting. They carried things much bigger than themselves, and you liked imagining they were on tiny important missions.
The laughter got louder as the kids inched closer to your shaking, small body. One of them kicked dirt near your hand. Hard enough to make you flinch.
âWhy do you always sit alone?â someone asked, treating you like a joke.
âGross! Insect girl,â another voice said, followed by more giggles.
You stared at the disturbed little insects, your throat tight, unsure what you were supposed to say. Youâd never been good at standing up for yourself.
You might have stayed frozen there if a small shadow hadnât fallen over the ground in front of you.
The voice was small and boyish, but it tried very hard to be brave.
You looked toward where it came from.
A boy stood there with tangled braids and serious eyes, hands curled awkwardly at his sides like he wasnât used to yelling at people. He was breathing loudly, the rise and fall of his small chest taking you by surprise. He couldnât have been much older than you. Maybe a year or two.
âLeave her alone!â he said, louder this time, defending you against the cruel kids.
The other kids groaned. Someone muttered, âOloâeyktanâs son,â like it was a bad thing. They shuffled back reluctantly, interest already fading now that it wasnât fun anymore.
When they were gone, the boy looked down at you again, uncertain.
âYou can keep watching them,â he said after a moment, pointing at the insects like he wasnât sure what else to do. âJust ignore those kids. Theyâre meanies.â
Then, after a long pause, he added, âIâm Neteyam.â
You told him your name in return with a shy voice.
He sat down beside you without asking, clumsy knees knocking against yours by accident, and the two of you watched the insects together in silence.
Just two small kids on the forest floor, enjoying the tranquil beauty of the forest.
From that very day, you guys grew to be inseparable.
He was never loud around you, nor was he ever rough. He was always there for you, growing up. He would wait for you when the others ran ahead, waiting while they left you behind. He would always sit beside you during lessons, explaining things if you looked confused. He would never hesitate to defend you from any mean kids, even if he was scared and shaking himself. To you, it became so natural that you didnât question it. People eventually stopped trying to bother you at all, because they knew he would always be there.
Years passed like that; muddy feet, scraped knees, sharing stolen fruits, whispering jokes during training lessons you were supposed to be paying attention to. Over time, you learned each other in small ways. You came to know each other like the backs of your hands. You were all too familiar with the way he went quiet when he was thinking too hard. He was all too familiar with the way you chewed the inside of your cheek when you were nervous. You both knew each otherâs little habits, the small tells that made the world feel safer when you were together.
By the time you had turned thirteen and Neteyam fourteen, the world started to feel different around you. It was just strange, quickly changing in a way you couldnât find words for yet. You and Neteyam were wandering along the riverbank one warm afternoon, basking in the calm âsloshingâ of the soft current passing along. It was quiet, but comfortable; you guys didnât have to say much to enjoy each other's company.
But then, you looked over at him, noticing how his ears were twitching slightly, and his brows were drawn together: a tell-tale sign that he was thinking too hard about something.
âHey,â you said, softly, nudging his arm with your elbow. âYou okay? Whatâs up?â
He looked at you, startled out of his thoughts, and then quickly looked away, back to the mossy ground before you. âNothing,â he murmured. âJust thinking.â
You tilted your head, unconvinced. âAbout what?â
He hesitated, fingers absentmindedly playing with the beads that hung off the side of his loincloth. âNothing important.â
You frowned, nudging him again. âCome on, âTey. You know I can tell when youâre hiding something.â
He finally looked at you, expression serious, and after a long pause said, âDo you ever see your parents kiss?â
You stopped mid-step, nearly tripping over a tree root. âWhat?â you asked, cheeks heating, as you were taken aback by the sudden invasive question.
âThey, you know, kiss?â His words were hesitant, like he wasnât sure he should even be asking. âI saw mine yesterday. And it looked strange.â
âStrange how?â you asked, curiously.
He shrugged, tail flicking lightly behind him. âI donât know. Too close. All lovey-doveyâ He glanced at you quickly. âHave you seen yours?â
You blinked. âIâve seen them a couple of times, when I was little. Itâs kind ofâŚâ you paused, looking for the right word. âGross?â
He frowned, clearly trying to process this. âGross? But how do you know it is gross if youâve never done it?â
Your face burned hotter. âIâwell, I donât know! It just looks weird! Like, why would anyone want to do that?â
Neteyam blinked at you, head tilting, ears flicking back nervously. âThen maybe we should try it?â
âFor, uh, research?â he said quickly, hands fidgeting. âJust to understand why our parents do it! Nothing else,â he continued, lying through his teeth.
You stared at him, incredulous. âYouâre ridiculous.â
âForget it then!â he insisted, but his ears flattened slightly, showing his embarrassment.
You huffed a laugh, heart racing for no good reason. After a pause, you said, âOkay. Fine. Only for âresearch,ââ making little air quotes with your fingers. You gave in, your curiosity getting the best of you. âBut if it ends up being gross, itâs your fault.â
He blinked, clearly shocked that you actually agreed, then nodded quickly. âOkay.â
The two of you leaned toward each other, slowly and carefully. You rose onto your toes, hands resting lightly on his shoulders to pull him down to your height. Your noses bumped first, and your eyes flew open. Neteyam froze completely. At the look on his face, you let out a giggle, and a shy smile bloomed across his face.
Then, you tried again. You closed your eyes, tilted your head just a little to the right, and let your lips press against his for the briefest moment. It was soft, and awkward, as neither of you quite knew what you were doing. A small peck.
You pulled back immediately, cheeks burning. âThat wasnât so bad, I guess?â
Neteyam blinked at you, stunned, then slowly raised his broad blue hand to his lips, as if to confirm what just happened.
Then, very slowly, he nodded. âNo, it wasnât bad,â he said seriously, like he was reporting important findings.
A beat of silence passed. His ears flicked back, embarrassed. âIt was justâŚâ he searched for the word, âunderwhelming?"
You snorted. âYeah. I donât get why our parents like it so much.â
He went quiet again, thinking so hard with his brows pulled together. After a moment, he said carefully, âMaybe we did it wrong.â
You tilted your head. âI donât think so. Youâre thinking too hard about it.â
âI am being logical,â he insisted, voice small but earnest. âIf the results donât match expectations, then the method must be flawed.â
You laughed, full and bright, and his tense shoulders relaxed instantly at the sound.
âSo what,â you teased between laughs, âyou want to try again?â
He froze, shoulders tensing once again. His ears flattened, tail swishing wildly behind him, and his eyes went wide.
âYes,â he admitted after a long second, honest to a fault.
You burst out laughing again, and he scratched the back of his neck, a flustered, shy smile tugging at his lips. The moment melted into giggles and teasing, re-establishing the kind of effortless comfort only the two of you understood.
In the end, you didnât try again that day. It became just another memory, fleeting, and something you both silently agreed didnât matter. At least, not yet.
You were both too shy, so you decided not to talk about the kiss.
Not even when you were fifteen and began training more seriously, muscles aching and hands blistered.
Not even when Neteyam grew taller, shoulders broader, his voice deeper, and responsibilities heavier.
The memory of your first kiss became a quiet fragment of the past that lived between you two. It was unspoken of, but never forgotten.
You continued to grow together, sharing water from the same bottles during long training runs, sneaking off to ride your ikrans while everyone else slept, laughing loudly whenever the other slipped up during a hunt. You both knew where the other would stand in the formation, and could tell what the other was thinking from the smallest gestures, from a nod, to a slight twitch.
Even as your bodies grew stronger and your minds sharper, that familiar, comforting feeling remained. The constant teasing, the way you two understood each other, the ways you always had each otherâs backs, they all followed you wherever you went.
By the time you were seventeen, you could feel the change in the way he watched you: more protective, quieter, and always a little hesitant, as if he were holding something back. You caught him staring sometimes, just for a fraction of a second, before he quickly looked away, ears flicking nervously. You didnât ask. You didnât want to. You were too nervous to confront any sort of feelings. So instead, you teased him, using humor to hide the tension that grew with time.
And when you turned eighteen, Neteyam now nineteen, stepping fully into your roles as warriors, that memory of the riverbank: the awkward, tiny first kiss you shared, had grown distant, quietly waiting for the day you might finally make sense of it together.
Now, as full-fledged warriors, the forest no longer felt like a playground. The forest carried weight now, with responsibility and expectations piling on your shoulders, as well as Neteyamâs.
You sat on a small cliff overlooking the training grounds, bow resting loosely in your left hand as you watched the younger ones practice below. Their laughter was free and echoing, and for a moment it carried you back ten years, to when you and Neteyam had been just as untamed and careless.
You were so lost in your childhood memories that you didnât notice the soft footsteps approaching behind you until a familiar voice cut through your thoughts.
âYouâre spacing out,â Neteyam said quietly. âWhat are you thinking about?â
You let out a small laugh, a little embarrassed. âJust the kids down there.â
He continued walking closer until he was looming over you. He followed your gaze, watching them for a moment. âThey remind you of something?â
You nodded your head, smiling faintly. âOf us, back then.â
You looked up at him, taking in how different he had become, physically far different from the boy who had once faced down those bullies with trembling hands. He was now taller, broader, more composed, undeniably grown. And yet, to you, he was still just Neteyam. Not the next Oloâeyktan, not some âmighty warrior.â To you, he was still the same boy who stood up for you that day. The boy you'd learned to love over the years.
A short silence settled between you, but it wasnât awkward. Slowly, he stepped closer and lowered himself to sit beside you on the edge of the short cliff. His presence appeared calm and steady, but beneath that composed exterior, his heart raced in a way he could never control whenever he was near you.
He glanced at you, soft eyes taking you in with curiosity, as if he was reading right through you. His knee brushed lightly against yours, just like that first day you had met on the forest floor, when your small bodies had clumsily touched for the first time.
After a moment, he quietly asked, âDo you remember that day at the riverbank?â
You shifted slightly, leaning back on your hands for balance, legs swinging lazily over the cliffâs edge. You gave him a small, teasing smile. âWhich day?â you asked, though in truth, you already knew exactly which one he meant.
Before he spoke, his gaze flicked to your lips as you smiled, sending a flutter through your chest, as tiny, uncontrollable butterflies twisted in your stomach.
He paused, looking back up to your expectant eyes, his ears flicking back just slightly, a habit that had never left him. âYou were thirteen, I was fourteen,â he said quietly. âWhen we were âexperimenting.â â
Your heart skipped a beat, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the memory. âI remember,â you admitted, letting the memory rise vividly in your mind.
He nodded once, slowly, as if confirming something. âI think about it a lot.â
âYou do?â you asked, brows raised, voice soft.
Unable to hold your gaze, he let his eyes shyly drift downward, settling briefly where your knees touched. âYeah,â he said, simply and honestly.
You studied him his averted face, searching for the reason. âWhy?â
He faltered for a moment, then met your gaze once again with that same softness he had always reserved for you, even as a small boy. âBecause,â he said softly, âLooking back, I donât think it was underwhelming or weird. I just didnât understand.â
âI think,â he continued, voice steady and more certain, âBack then, I was just too young to understand what I was feeling.â Following his words, it felt like everything stilled around you. The sounds of the kids playing below, the rustling of the plants around you, they all stilled.
âWhat about now?â you whispered.
His eyes held yours fully, gaze unfaltering. âNow,â he said, with a pause before adding on, âI understand it very well. Iâm sure of it.â
For a short moment, you just sat there, letting the weight of the years and hidden feelings settle between you, as you processed his words.
Then, something inside you snapped: a surge of years spent waiting, of secretive longing, of knowing exactly what you wanted. You lunged forward, catching him off guard, and kissed him before you could second-guess it. Your hands pressed firmly against his chest as you pushed him onto his back against the soft moss, straddling his lower abdomen, knees clamping lightly against his sides to steady yourself as you hovered above him.
For a second, Neteyam went still beneath you, completely caught off guard, until he gave in, melting into your embrace. One hand found its place gently on the side of your waist, the other cupping the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair as he deepened the kiss. Your lips moved hungrily, exploring and claiming, as you were both finally able to stop holding back. The kiss quickly grew more urgent, fueled by the intense desire that you had both carried for years.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck, you let out a soft laugh. Half in disbelief, half exhilarated, you couldnât stop smiling. You could feel his heartbeat thudding against your cheek from his pulse point, and the rise and fall of his chest pressed against yours. As you lifted your head to meet his gaze, his eyes shone up at you, wide and vulnerable, cheeks flushed with warmth, and in that moment, it felt like everything: the years, the waiting, the refusal to confront, had all finally paid off.
âSo, howâs that for a real first kiss? Still think it was underwhelming?â
