Neteyam had his book in his lap. His braids framed his face like vines on stone. They sat close together. Not close enough to be considered suspicious, but close. Ao'nung was very careful not to get any closer than he sat now. He had thought about this carefully. If they were closer than a foot apart, he would begin to wonder what his hair felt like, braided like how it was now, or wonder what his shoulders felt like. He wondered this now, but being a foot and a half apart, he could think about it privately, without acting on his thoughts. However, if they were more than two feet apart, Ao'nung would feel that empty feeling in his stomach that he had felt when Neteyam had been cold to him at the flower shop. He would look over at Neteyam with eyes full of sadness, and anyone who saw him would instantly know something was going on between them. Neteyam's eyes shifted across his page as he read. He blinked. His lips parted slightly as he turned the page. Ao'nung told himself to stop staring a while ago. He was yet to listen. Neteyam glanced over at him, looking directly into his eyes. He seemed surprised to see Ao'nung looking at him. Ao'nung felt his face flush.
"Hi," he whispered, as quietly as he could. Nothing was wrong with saying hi. Nothing suspicious, nothing out of the ordinary. Friends said hi all the time. Rotxo said hi to him this morning. It was normal. It was okay. Neteyam didn't answer. Ao'nung saw him lean forward, just a little bit. Was this okay? Ao'nung knew he should move away, to maintain the distance he had so carefully calculated. Neteyam's eyes softened almost imperceptibly. His mouth opened, slightly, just enough for Ao'nung to see the tips of his canines. Ao'nung felt himself smile, small enough to maintain discretion. "Hey," Neteyam murmured, blinking. Ao'nung's stomach felt funny. Neteyam had spoken such a common word like it was secret, something intimate. Ao'nung tried not to panic at the thought of being seen sharing something truly intimate with Neteyam. Neteyam suddenly leaned back in his seat, dropping his book in his lap. Ao'nung watched it fall from his slender hands and land softly against Neteyam's legs. His eyes snapped back up to Neteyam's face. Neteyam's light brown eyes seemed to glow in that moment. Ao felt two parts of himself begin to collide - the part of him that wanted to get up from his seat and run, mortified by his own thoughts and desires, fighting against the part of him that would have kept kissing Neteyam if Ms. Zama hadn't seen them. The part of him that almost didn't care that they had been seen at all. Ao'nung had kept his eyes trained on Neteyam's. He tilted his head to the side. Neteyam mimicked his motion, face flushing slightly. This was too much. He had to stop. He had to pull himself out of Neteyam's eyes. This wasn't something he could play off as "normal". This was intimate, this was obvious. If someone saw the way he was staring at Neteyam now, it would be over. Everything would be over. He forced a smile and tore his eyes away, staring down at his book.
He tried his best to look like he was reading. He really did enjoy this book. But, right now, with someone who made him feel the way he did sitting just a foot and a half away, he simply could not. He felt stupid. He should have sat two feet away. Maybe even two and a half. No, he shouldn't have. He should be closer. He should be as close as he could. He should be able to feel every breath Neteyam breathed, every rise and fall of his chest. Ao'nung blinked and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, wincing. This was ridiculous. Neteyam had no clue what Ao'nung was thinking. He sat there, with his book resting against the tops of his legs, utterly oblivious to the effect he had on Ao'nung. Neteyam absentmindedly began fidgeting with the end of one of his braids. Tonowari had braided Ao'nung's hair today. Did Neteyam notice? Ao'nung hoped he did. Neteyam rested his hand on the table. Ao'nung inhaled quietly. Neteyam had crossed their foot and a half of space. He looked up at Ao'nung, alarmed by his small gasp. "You okay?" he asked softly, leaning in. Ao'nung could smell him now. Neteyam was close enough for Ao'nung to smell cinnamon and honey, and a warm breeze. A cool rain on a warm day. He considered holding his breath. He didn't need to know what Neteyam smelled like. He knew the memory would crawl its way into Ao'nung's brain, another detail about Neteyam that made him seem so real, so incredibly and perfectly human.
"Ao," Neteyam whispered, tapping him on the shoulder gently. Ao'nung grabbed his hand, involuntarily. He instantly dropped it, horrified at himself. He looked around them wildly. No one was there. No one. He felt his mind racing. What if someone told his father? What if the team found out? He was on swim team, for fuck's sake. If his teammates found out he was gay, he would be looked at completely differently. He would be forced to never set foot in a locker room again. He would be seen as disgusting. Would it make people uncomfortable? "Ao'nung." Neteyam was speaking now. "Hey." Ao'nung felt Neteyam's hand on his forearm. He looked down at the touch and felt his breath die in his throat. He stared at Neteyam's fingertips gently tapping his skin. Touching his skin. Neteyam's fingertips grazing his skin. Right now, before his eyes. Ao'nung opened his mouth to speak. "I want-" His voice sounded strangled and tense. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I want to be-" Ao'nung didn't know what he was trying to say. Judging by the look on Neteyam's face, he didn't either. He pulled his hand back slowly, scooting his chair further away. He glanced up at Ao'nung with hurt eyes, confusion written across his face. No. No, that wasn't what he meant. He knew that. He grabbed Neteyam's arm with one hand, under the table, gently pushing back his sleeve with his fingertips. Neteyam's skin was warm and smooth. Of course it was. Of course. Neteyam looked over at him, eyes wide. "I want- a little," Ao'nung muttered, hoping Neteyam understood. "A little of this is okay. Secret." Neteyam blinked. "Ours," Ao'nung finished lamely, beginning to pull his hand back. Neteyam gently brushed Ao'nung's knuckles with his fingertips, softly holding his hand in place. "Okay," Neteyam breathed, nodding. "A little is fine."
Ao'nung smiled to himself. "Honey does have a smell," he whispered. Neteyam blinked in confusion. "I mean, yeah?" "No- remember when Rotxo said honey doesn't have a smell?" Neteyam thought for a second before nodding, a small smile on his face. "Honey has a smell," Ao'nung said. "Sweet, and kinda warm." Neteyam blinked. "You smell like honey," he added, finally finishing his train of thought. "And cinnamon. And like how the house smells when you leave the windows open all day. And-" "Ao'nung," Neteyam murmured, hushing him. "You gotta keep it down. We're in a library." Ao'nung grinned. After a moment of Ao'nung holding Neteyam's arm discreetly under the table, Neteyam looked back up at him. "You smell like mint," he whispered. "Mint and soap. Vanilla, but not the cheap fragrance. The extract. Like, the one used for baking." He turned back to his book, leaving Ao'nung to try very, very hard not to grin like an idiot.
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