Miaxwrites
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“Wait,” Ao’nung murmured, his brain struggling to comprehend the information that Lo’ak was feeding him. “So you’re telling me that Neteyam had a secret boyfriend this entire time and never told me?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” Lo’ak said with a casual shrug. From the corner of his eyes, Ao’nung could see him eyeing the joint in his hand, his fingers twitching with the urge to pluck it from Ao’nung’s grasp. “Only, Tarsem isn’t a secret. Neteyam just doesn’t like telling people –”
“That’s literally what a secret is,” Ao’nung huffed, leaning forward so he could bury his head in his hands.
“–Because he’s looking for a way to get out of the relationship,” Lo’ak continued, completely disregarding Ao’nung’s dejected interuption.
Pinching his brows together, Ao’nung’s head snapped towards Lo’ak. For a second, he thought he had misheard him, his ears playing tricks on him as the weed finally took effect. “...What?”
or... Neteyam and his family move to Hawaii after Jake is assigned there for work, but amidst trying to hold onto the perfect life he had curated for himself, Neteyam can't seem to stop running into someone. Someone who can't help but try to sweep him away.
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"Son," Jake tried again, his voice a whisper as he ignored the jeering of Quaritch beside him and the frenzy of the Mangkwan. The only thing that mattered to him was his son. "Please, you have to remember. It's me, Jake, your dad. And those are your brother's, Lo'ak and Spider, and your sisters, Kiri and Tuk."
Neteyam's hand momentarily stilled, putting a stop to the sacrificial markings he had been painting across Jake's skin. The conflict on his face was impossible to hide, physically paining Jake when he couldn't reach out to embrace his son and tell him that everything would be okay.
"I don't--"
"Bro," Lo'ak cut him off, pleading as he fought against his restraints. "We have to get out of here, it's not safe. We can explain everything to you once we get back."
"No," he quickly hissed, shooting down anyone else who dared to speak against him. Before handing off the wooden bowl of paint and storming away, Neteyam seethed, "I am the son of Varang, and my place is with the Mangkwan. I don't know who any of you are."
or... Neteyam couldn't remember anything except his name and the voices of his past. Luckily, he had Varang and the Mangkwan to guide him through it.