Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9083260.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Moana_(2016)
  Relationship:
      Maui/Moana_Waialiki
  Character:
      Maui_(Disney), Moana_Waialiki, Maui's_Tattoos_(Disney), Ocean_(Disney:
      Moana), Minor_Characters
  Additional Tags:
      Post-Canon, Maui_Visits_Motunui, Unplanned_Pregnancy, Teenage_Pregnancy,
      Age_Difference, Size_Difference, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Maui_Has_Just_A
      Smidge_Of_Magic, Vomit_Mention, Exhibitionism, Mortal/Immortal
      Relationship, Past_Relationship(s), Possessive_Behavior, Pregnant_Sex,
      Mentions_of_Lactation, semi-graphic_birth
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-28 Completed: 2017-02-25 Chapters: 10/10 Words: 45787
****** Precocious ******
by Owlship
Summary
     When Moana returns from their adventure with an unexpected souvenir,
     Maui has to confront some things he'd rather not.
Notes
     This fic directly follows "Human_Sacrifice" and as such, you should
     probably read that first. (I'm not taking into account
     GillyPerkyGoth's fic "Take_a_Break" here, however it's a fun pwp and
     you should also read it if you're so inclined)
     Moana is 16 in this and Maui is decidedly not, fair warning.
     An important note: this is not my culture and while I did research as
     I was writing and tried to be respectful, it's entirely possible that
     I've fucked something up. If you see anything wrong or offensive
     please let me know and I will do my best to correct it!
See the end of the work for more notes
  This work was inspired by
      Human_Sacrifice by Owlship
***** Chapter 1 *****
They trick Tamatoa long enough for Maui to get his hook- he cannot believe the
dumb crab almost had him- and the barrier to return to the mortal world has no
requirements for passage, so they slip on through without delay. If Moana's
sore between her legs at all as they get her canoe moving again, she doesn't
say anything and he doesn't notice.
When she kisses him later it's a heat of the moment thing, he gets that. He's
gearing up to take on Te Kā and she darts in to plant a kiss on his lips when
she tells him to save the world, there and gone again before he can blink. He
isn't sure she even knows she's done it, and it isn't as if there's any time to
stop and discuss it.
Then Moana damn near gets the both of them killed and his hook is cracking,
failing. He feels it like a wound on his own flesh and she doesn't get it,
doesn't understand, this impertinent chit of a girl who thinks she can get her
way just because she wants it, and damn the consequences.
It hurts to change into a hawk, magic warped and sparking. It doesn't hurt to
leave.
Maui flies through the night on his own again, under his own power again, and
revels in it. There is nothing but him and the sky and the magic of his gods-
granted hook. His tattoos aren't visible when he's in animal form but he can
still feel Mini-Maui prickling at his skin, urging him to stop.
He ignores the sensation until he feels the little tattoo bastard give a sharp
tug that has him lurching off course.
He has no reason to go back- Moana can give the heart back herself if she's so
determined to do it. There's just the giant lava demon in her way, but she's
wily. He has faith that she'll make it through somehow. There isn't any reason
for him to help some mortal with a death wish, not especially when it means
risking the hook he only just got back.
'We can fix it' she had said, like that was an actual option. Who does she
think she is anyway, going up against monsters like this? Like there isn't any
danger in it for her just because the ocean splashes her sometimes.
'You're still Maui' she'd said like she even knows what that means, like she's
the one who spent a thousand years on a heap of rocks stripped of the one thing
that made him truly great. Sure, it wasn't actually his hook that let them get
away from Tamatoa, and it isn't like he needed it to teach her wayfinding or
escape from the Kakamora, but she doesn't know what it means for it to be
cracking like this. For him to be cracking like this.
One more hit and it's over.
Why would he give that up, just because he made a few bad decisions a few years
ago? Just because some little mortal with an excess of foolish bravery asked
him to? If Moana wants to give Te Fiti her heart back she stands as much of a
chance as he does.
It's no use; no matter how Maui tries to convince himself otherwise, he can
feel all the ways she's gotten under his skin. It is infuriating and he gives a
hawk's scream as he wheels around in the sky, absolutely certain that despite
him telling her it's a useless endeavor she's going to keep trying anyway until
it kills her.
Or until she succeeds.
 

When it's over he leaves her on the shores of Te Fiti and feels pretty good
about his decision, all things considered. Sure, they hadn't talked about what
that kiss meant- or rather, what it didn't mean- but she seems okay with the
fact that he's leaving, which works just as well for him.
Maui revels in his freedom for a while. Tries out as many forms as he can just
to see that he can, and a few new ones- shark head on a lizard, pig with hawk
wings, beetle the size of a whale- just messing around, acquainting himself
with his new hook. The carvings on it are a bit different than the original
though he doesn't know if that was intentional on Te Fiti's part or not, can't
tell if there's anything different about how it behaves.
He finds a dilapidated boat on an empty island and rebuilds it, and despite
Mini-Maui suggesting a certain double spiral, he leaves the sail blank once
it's done. It's unlucky to not have anything painted on, but his hook is too
obvious a symbol if anyone's going to take offense to his return from exile,
and he was never the best artist.
Moana didn't say where her island is, so it's a complete surprise when he stops
off at a random one as he's exploring the changes a thousand years has wrought
and sees a familiar sail gliding out of the lagoon. The tattoo version of Moana
on his chest gives a frantic wave and he frowns at it; Mini-Maui should be the
only one with enough mind of its own to react to things like that.
"You're teaching her bad habits," he chastises the tattoo. Mini-Maui just
smiles smugly up at him.
"Maui!" he hears a familiar voice call out, and when he swings his boat around
he sees Moana, looking quite cozy on her canoe. There's a pair of men with her,
fishing gear in hand, and he very much doesn't feel a lurch of ridiculous
jealousy.
"Chosen One," he replies. It would be ridiculous to feel jealousy; she has her
own life and he has his, it really doesn't matter what may or may not have
happened out on the ocean where no one can prove anything.
Moana says something to one of her companions and then dives into the water,
swimming the distance between boats in a few strokes. He reaches down to pluck
her out because the ocean doesn't seem to be doing it for her, her hand
disappearing in his grip. "You could have waited another ten seconds," he says.
"I don't mind the swim," she says, and as soon as her feet are under her she
jumps to her tip-toes and with that look on her face he thinks she's going to
kiss him- but she only presses their foreheads together, tips of their noses
touching. "Welcome to Motunui."
Maui presses back and tries to remember the last time a human knew him well
enough to greet him like this. It's been a while, even discounting the thousand
years he spent stuck on that island. He pats her back and lets their breaths
mingle for a few seconds before putting space between them again.
"Come on, you have to see the island!" she says, smiling like there couldn't
possibly be any other reason that he's here except to visit her, just because.
In a conspiratorial whisper she adds, "My parents think I made up a lot of what
happened. If they could only see you they'd know it's the truth."
He wonders if she told them quite everything that happened and suppresses a
wince. "Sure," he says anyway, because he can always grab his hook and run if
they come after him, "I always have time for my fans."
Moana looks like she's going to say something in reply but gets cut off by the
men in her boat. "Moana! Are you coming with us or not?"
She turns to face them and something in her posture changes; her back is
straighter, her feet planted more firmly. Like she really is the island's next
chief. "Go on ahead," she calls over to them, "Catch as much as you can! We're
going to need it." She slides a look his way and Maui makes no move to
contradict her- stopping at inhabited islands like this usually involves a
feast because they're so grateful to him, and he'll never say no to a big meal.
"I'm surprised you're letting them go with your canoe," he says as the
fishermen wave an acknowledgement and set their sail again, zipping away.
"Well I can't sail it and keep an eye on you at the same time, can I?" she
replies, and he scoffs.
"I don't need looking after." He doesn't look down to check but he's pretty
sure the little tattoo-Moana is shaking out her tattoo sail, catching an
imaginary wind.
"How did you get a canoe?" she says, looking around at it like she's never seen
a boat before. "You didn't steal it, did you?"
"Why is that your first thought?" Maui asks, feigning offense.
"Stealing my canoe was literally the first thing you did when we met," she
replies.
"If only I'd succeeded," he says wistfully. If he'd succeeded there's a higher-
than-he-wants-to-admit chance that he would have been beaten by Tamatoa, hook
still gone, and of course Te Fiti's heart would still be missing. And he'd have
left Moana on that island to live a very lonely life until some other brat
washed up with a boat she could sail away on or she died, whichever came first.
Really, he can't imagine things working out much better- but he isn't going to
admit that.
Moana punches his arm but she's smiling, not for a second believing him.
He returns her smile and thinks okay, this is just them being friends. There
isn't anything more to it than that. The thought's a relief and somehow a
disappointment, which he plans to never address. He mentally shakes himself and
starts actually heading for what must be Motunui- unless she's already started
voyaging, though he thinks it's a bit early for that.
"Nice looking place," he tells her.
"It's home," she says with a complicated sort of tone in her voice. He glances
at her face but can't really see anything the matter, and she doesn't offer up
any more than that.
There are a few people on the shore when he beaches his boat, but it isn't
until he grabs his hook from where it was resting on the deck of his canoe that
the interest picks up in earnest.
"Mom! Dad!" Moana calls, rocketing off the boat and up the pathways carved
through the grass, leaving him to fend for himself without another word.
He chuckles to himself and smiles at the people already on the beach, waving
magnanimously as he waits for her to come back. The people look less pleased to
see him than makes sense, and Maui frowns to himself a little as he considers
this. She hadn't liked him at first either, had smacked him with her oar like
she had something against him personally. Maybe it's an island-wide defect.
He hears Moana's babbling before he gets too far in his contemplation. "And
here is Maui, just like I said! Not a dream or some random guy, I mean he's
kind of hard to make up, so-" she thrusts a hand out at him- "here!"
He raises an eyebrow at her introduction before smiling at what must be her
parents, both looking at him with a measure of surprise. But it's pretty easy
to give them a better greeting, and soon he's being welcomed into the village
as a guest of honor, as is right and good.
Midway through a tour of the better parts of the island there's a small child
tugging at his skirt, and he kneels down to regard them. "Are you really Maui
the demigod?"
Maui pretends to check, looking at his hook and then his tattoos as if he's
never seen them before. "Looks like," he says.
The kid, rather than being pleased, gives a passable glare for a toddler and
then kicks him on the shin. "I hate you!"
"Hey, what was that for?" he asks, taken aback. Kids get weird sometimes but
that kick was delivered with intent.
Moana scoops the kid up in her arms, where they wriggle around angrily.
"Sorry!" she says, "Not everyone believes that you're actually a good guy after
all."
"What do you mean, 'after all'?" he says, getting back to his feet and eyeing
the other kids warily. Of course he's a good guy- he's a hero, for crying out
loud. One mistake and no one cares that he gave them the sky and fire and all
sorts of things?
"Well," she says, drawing out the word, "We sort of all thought you took the
heart for yourself? So you weren't really anyone's favorite around here. But
I've been telling them what a mistake that was! And now you can tell your
stories yourself!"
Maui lifts his eyes from her face to glance around the clearing they've paused
in. The people ringed around them are looking at him with awe, as is
appropriate, but also apprehension. He thinks back to the way she'd hit him
with her oar when they first met and heaves a huge sigh.
"You people are so ungrateful," he grumbles, taking care that only Moana can
actually hear him. "One little mistake and suddenly I'm a monster."
Moana gives him an apologetic smile and finally sets the kid in her arms down
on the ground. "Go play," she tells them with a shooing sort of pat on their
back. To him she says, "Sorry? In our defense, we were promised inescapable
death."
He shakes his head and waves them on, resuming the tour of the little island.
It's a cozy place, obviously built with care and lovingly maintained. He can
see why she would want to sail across the ocean to try and keep it safe.
The feast is, as predicted, bountiful. That dumb chicken still hasn't been
cooked up, and it's similarly no surprise that an otherwise tasty-looking pig
follows at her heels like a puppy, clearly spared from the roasting spit
indefinitely.
Maui launches into telling his and Moana's story with only the barest
suggestion that he should, dancing and weaving illusions into the air as he
goes. He emphasizes that he was taking the heart for them, and plays up his
thousand years of isolation like they were what convinced him to repent- Moana
breaks in when he's describing their meeting, exasperated smile on her face,
and takes over to tell a much less flattering (but, admittedly, truer) account.
They tag-team through escaping the Kakamora, and then she waxes poetic about
how he'd begun to teach her wayfinding before sending him a slightly panicked
look and falling silent.
He picks up the thread for her, says absolutely nothing about how the entrance
to Lalotai got opened and instead describes how she'd fooled Tamatoa, a move
worthy of any trickster. The rest of the tale goes much smoother, until he
jumps up into the air with a yell at the very end of it, unfurling hawk wings
to put the final seal of awe into the audience.
Predictably, they go nuts and he basks in the adoration.
When his part in the story-telling is over and the crowd's calmed down he takes
full advantage of food that's far more fancy than anything he ever prepares,
filling his belly twice over while some of the people start up music and
dancing. He's enjoying the spectacle of it but is surprised to find that he
wishes it was quieter, more casual; he's never seen Moana like this, all
dressed up stately and proper, and it's disconcerting.
He's thinking maybe he'll call it a night pretty soon- the food's getting down
to the overcooked and mealy bits, the air's starting to get chilly- and then
Moana gets up from her spot and joins the dancers, eyes flashing in the
firelight and her chiefly demeanor traded in for one of pure delight as she
spins. She looks beautiful enough to take his breath for a moment, her
movements graceful and entire body radiating happiness.
Maui swallows heavily at the sight and tries to remind himself that she is the
daughter of the chief whose goodwill he is taking advantage of, and that she is
still so young, and that he doesn't have any excuse this time for how his eyes
trace every curve and line of her form as she dances in the flickering light.
She smiles right at him when she finishes a complicated turn, something coy in
her expression, and he abruptly remembers that kiss she'd given him right
before sending him to Te Kā that first time.
This is probably a bad idea to even think about.
Still, when the night is truly over and he's been installed on a pallet of mats
in the otherwise-empty great hall, he waits up for Moana to sneak in the way
he's sure she will. It doesn't take long for him to be proven right, a figure
with swaying skirt and bouncing hair materializing from out of the darkness.
She seems surprised that he left a torch burning, but grateful for the light as
she picks her way across the floor.
"Isn't it past your bedtime?" Maui asks.
"I don't have a bedtime," she says loftily, collapsing to sit next to him on
the mats a moment later. She's taken off most of her ceremonial gear, left with
just the fancy feathery skirt different from her usual. "I barely got to talk
to you! There wasn't anything you came here for, was there?"
"Nah," he says, relaxing a little at the innocent intent here. He must have
been imagining things earlier, and feels a wave of something not too far off
shame for thinking of her like that. She is just a kid, after all. "Just in the
area. Thought I'd pop by. See how you mortals are doing, if you need any
monsters vanquished, winds tamed, et cetera."
Moana snorts. "You just wanted an excuse to brag about yourself."
"Well, that too," he allows for the way she rolls her eyes at him with a smile.
"I missed you," she says with less humor, not teasing.
"It's been what, two months?" Mortals care a bit more about time than he tends
to, but that isn't very long even by their standards.
She shrugs, and her fingers pick at some of the feathers sewn to her skirt.
"You're good company," she says. "We can go beyond the reef now but no one's
ready to really go voyaging, and no one knows how to wayfind except some of
them think they do, or they just don't want to be taught by 'a little girl who
wasn't ever allowed on the water until now'."
She's obviously quoting some jerk and it sends a little flicker of anger
through him; who could look at her and say she's just anything? She's done more
brave things in the short time he's known her than he bets the collective
village has done in their entire lives. "Hey now," Maui says, "You're not just
some little girl. How many of them can say they've crossed the ocean? Gone toe-
to-toe with a lava monster? Survived Lalotai?"
He does a bit regret mentioning Lalotai because now he's thinking about how
they got there, and she's sitting next to him on his bed in the middle of the
night after dancing like that, smiling like that. The fact that he's reassuring
her that she isn't just a kid really doesn't help matters.
"I guess," she says, and smooths her hands over her lap, setting the feathers
back to rights. "Do you know how long you're staying?"
He shrugs. "Until my awesome overwhelms the island and you need a break,
maybe."
Moana huffs a laugh. "You'll be waiting a long time for anyone here to get
overwhelmed," she tells him.
"Better get comfy, then," he says, and immediately regrets it. He definitely
has no plans to stay long, honestly was just looking for a place to refuel at
before continuing on. Discovering that the island is inhabited really shouldn't
change those plans any.
"Maui," she says, "I'm glad you came back."
"Actually, this is my first time here," he replies glibly, then before she can
do more than start looking annoyed he adds, "I missed you too." Which is true,
he realizes on reflection, but not really something he meant to say out loud.
She smiles at him then, warm and pleased, and whatever she opens her mouth to
say is consumed by an almighty yawn.
Maui bumps his shoulder against hers. "Go get some rest," he says, and cannot
stand how fond his voice sounds, "I'll be here in the morning. If I'm not
swarmed with admirers, of course."
She shakes her head. "I'm not that tired."
"Sleep," he repeats.
Moana reaches up to brush a hand through her hair. "Can I stay with you?" she
asks.
"I thought I snored," he replies while his brain actually processes the
request. It doesn't seem like she's hinting at 'staying the night' but it isn't
like they've literally slept together before, either. One of them was always
awake to keep the boat sailing.
"Only some of the time," she says.
It's probably a bad idea but her intent seems innocent, so Maui waves out a
hand to indicate the mats they're already sitting on. There's enough extra room
for a slip of a girl to curl up on, no problem. "Don't hog the blankets."
She smiles at him and then stands up, hands going for the fastening of her
skirt.
"Woah, hey," he says, "I agreed to sleeping."
Moana turns to blink at him in confusion, her eyes widening and face flushing
dark red. "No!" she says, "I wasn't, I mean- my skirt's delicate. Mom'll have
my head if I ruin it by sleeping in it."
He relaxes, though dealing with her skirtless is going to make for an
interesting night regardless. She turns back away from him and works the
feathered skirt off, leaving her in a skimpy layer of fabric wrapped around her
hips. He should look away probably, but instead he watches her as she bends to
get it off, the dying torch throwing dark strange shadows across her skin.
"Would you say no?" she asks, not looking at him as she lays the skirt near a
post where it won't be stepped on.
No to- oh. Maui tears his eyes away from her, the curve of her chest, the lines
of her legs. "Kid, it's really not-"
"I'm not a kid," she cuts in with. "You can say no, that's alright, but don't
call me a kid after what we went through." Her eyes bore into his through the
growing dark.
"Alright," he concedes the word. It undermines basically all of his objections
if he doesn't think of her as someone too young; she wouldn't be the first
mortal he's been with, nor the first chief's daughter. And if she's asking him
without there being any other reason he can think of than because she wants it,
wants him- well, he can't say he coerced her. "Are you asking?"
She adjusts her weight nervously, licks her lips. Her eyes flicker over his
body before returning to his face. "Maybe."
'Maybe' is not 'yes' and there isn't any reason to rush this time. "Sleep on
it," Maui says, shaking out the blanket and making a show of lying down under
it. "I'm going to bed."
She looks equal parts relieved and disappointed, but doesn't say anything else
as she slips in besides him.
 

He wakes up before the sun's risen absolutely wrapped around her, Moana's
entire body snug against his from the back of her neck nearly to her toes. His
nose is buried in her hair, his arm curled around her middle, legs tangled
together.
Maui lets himself stay like this for a minute as he wakes up, luxuriating in
the feeling of her against him. It's the sort of thing he could get used to,
which is the sort of thought that makes him feel like he needs to go jump in
the ocean and get out of here as quickly as possible.
He pulls his hips away so his morning erection isn't pressed up against the
soft curve of her behind and begins extricating the rest of him, hoping not to
wake her up. He doesn't quite manage it and she stirs with a quiet sleepy
noise.
"Maui?"
"Morning," he says in reply.
Moana hums and wiggles a little, like she's testing the limits of his hold. He
starts to pull his arm away and she grabs it, taking hold of his hand to keep
it in place.
"This's nice," she says.
"Your hair's in my mouth," Maui says, though it really isn't so much.
She sighs, the noise somewhere between annoyed and amused, and then suddenly
she's turning over, her face barely a handspan away from his. It's far too
early to handle the sight of her so close, soft smile on her lips and her eyes
blinking sleepily in the dim pre-dawn light.
"Better?" she asks.
He really couldn't say. "You're not the worst thing I've woken up to," he tells
her, which isn't really the answer he'd meant to give but there it is.
"So you won't mind if I kiss you, then," Moana says.
He's still not convinced this is a good idea- the little brat's gotten under
his skin in a way none of the other people he's done this with have, to say
nothing of the permanent drawing of her that is literally under his skin, and
the whole thing scares him a bit with how little he knows how to deal with any
of it. But he moves his hand to her chin to tip her face up and kisses her
anyway.
He can feel her smiling against his mouth and grumbles internally because she's
gotten her way yet again. But it's hard to be actually annoyed when she's
moving her lips against his, still more enthusiasm than skill- he wonders if
she hasn't even kissed anyone since. If he's still her first and only.
Her hands flex against the skin of his chest, fingers dragging over the thick
lines of his tattoos.
Maui doesn't want to rush her, doesn't want to scare her off, but he wants her
and he's never been particularly good about holding back on the things he
wants. She feels tiny against him like this, still too relaxed from sleep to
exude her usual crackling energy; she feels like the young mortal she is,
rather than someone worthy of being in a myth with him.
"Just kissing?" she asks out of nowhere, aligning with his own thoughts as if
she can hear them. Her knee bumps him pointedly, a brush of skin against his.
'Whatever you want' dances on the tip of his tongue, as does 'we should wait'.
What he actually says is, "The sun'll be up soon."
The edge of the sky is already lightening, burning away the night's mist. He
can hear the noises of a village coming to life, still far-away and muffled. He
wouldn't be surprised if someone came in to the hall he's staying in before
very long; whether to see him or for some other purpose, the last thing he
wants is for them to see him despoiling the chief's daughter.
Moana groans a little and looks around, like she needs to confirm what time it
is. "My parents'll be looking for me soon," she says with a voice full of
regret.
"Go, be chief," he replies. It's harder than it should be to convince his arms
to let her go. She kisses him again, lingering, and then heaves herself up off
the pallet. He sits up and watches as she tugs that skimpy under-skirt back
down far enough to actually cover herself again and then step into the feathery
skirt from the night before, tying it off sloppily.
She doesn't look entirely debauched, which he thinks is probably for the best-
especially considering how he hasn't actually done any debauching this time.
Unless just kissing counts, which would be news to him.
"I'll see you later?" she says, what should be a statement posed like a
question.
"Of course," Maui says. Whether she means will he be sticking around for at
least another day or can she come back and see where the kissing thing leads
to, his answer is the same.
She smiles at him and ducks down for one last kiss, just a light peck, and then
she's dashing out of the hall and into the morning air.
He stays seated for a few long minutes and rubs a hand over his face. On his
skin Mini-Maui does some complicated maneuvers that he isn't paying attention
to, unsure if he wants to know whether the tattoo is in favor of these
developments or not. Probably for, he considers; it had been the little guy who
wanted him to turn around after his hook cracked, and him who started teaching
the tattoo version of Moana how to move on her own.
Then he's up, stretching out the kinks in his spine and wondering where he can
get something to eat or if he has to go climb a tree himself.


***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     I'm hoping to post a chapter a week, but I wanted to send off 2016
     with a smutty bang so have an early update! The next posting will
     probably be next Friday. :3
The villagers of Motunui are less in awe of him the second day, which is a let-
down, but they're also less quietly hostile as they accept that he isn't some
evil threat, which he counts as enough of an improvement to even out.
Maui alternates between sticking close to Moana and watching her from afar as
he endears himself to the local populace, showing off enough to get their
respect but not quite so much as to stir up any real jealous resentment. If
this was just a stop-over island he wouldn't care much at all- humans are
always jealous of something or other, and he can't help being so awesome- but
he doesn't want to be run out of town, not when he sees the way Moana smiles as
she interacts and knows that she'd never agree to skip out permanently with
him.
Not that he's thinking of permanent anything, a thought so premature and
intimidating that he shoves it into the back of his head. Not wanting anyone to
get weird in their jealousy is a good enough reason to hold himself back a bit,
anyway- he still remembers the time someone cut off his hair to braid into a
belt, convinced it would bring them luck or strength or whatever.
He doesn't really like smiting humans, but he'd taken a keen sort of
satisfaction putting that one back in their place. Shows them.
There isn't quite a feast the second night, but Maui's pretty sure the spread
is better than their usual. He isn't complaining, especially not when he's been
living off a few scraggly plants and occasional fish for a thousand years.
It's no surprise at all that Moana again creeps into the great hall as soon as
the majority of the village has bedded down for the night. He's up waiting for
her, and when she appears he takes in the way she's holding herself, the
expression in her face that suggests she's decided things will be happening
tonight whether she's nervous about them or not.
She marches up to him and grabs for his head in what seems like an exact repeat
of their first kiss. What had been her first kiss ever, if he's any judge of
things. This time she's more careful about it, demonstrates that she's been
paying attention enough to learn how to refine her technique.
"Just kissing?" she asks when she pulls away, expression caught somewhere
between shy and eager.
Maui smiles at her because she's just so obnoxiously tenacious, and then grabs
her hand. "Come on," he tells her, "We're going on a hike."
"What?" It's pretty clear that this isn't what she expected to hear, face
scrunching up in adorable confusion.
His smile only widens to a grin and he ducks down to whisper in her ear.
"You're not quiet, Curly. And I don't want to wake up the village."
Moana's eyes go wide with surprise like she didn't think he'd actually agree,
or that he would let her go as fast as she's pushing for. Then she starts to
smile, and he knows he's in so much trouble. "I know a place," she says.
He'd scoped out a few little areas far enough from the main village to probably
be private, the ground trampled enough that he's pretty sure they wouldn't be
the first couple to make use of them. But she leads him past them all, winding
her way through the dark trees with ease, hand holding tight to his like she's
afraid he'll disappear.
Rather than leave he uses the grip to reel her in every now and again, pressing
her against convenient trees to kiss senseless. She's definitely a fast
learner, has him getting hard enough that it's difficult to walk as she keeps
leading him away.
"This place of yours'd better be good," Maui grumbles when she slips away yet
again, hips swaying to suggest she's taking far too much delight in his
condition.
"I thought you wanted to hike," she says with false innocence.
He gives a mock growl and grabs her around the waist, picking her up off the
ground entirely; she squeaks in surprise. "You're lucky I left my hook behind."
Moana only laughs and squirms in his arms, turning around to face him when he
sets her back on her feet. "We're almost there," she says right before kissing
him, and he gets distracted again for a few minutes. Just as he's thinking
he'll just pull her down to the ground here and now anyway she ducks out from
under his arms and beckons him onward still.
It's only another minute or so of walking before the trees suddenly give way to
a clearing bathed in silvery moonlight, fragrant white night-bloomers nodding
in the breeze around the edges. It's far more beautiful than any of the places
he'd checked out, makes him feel awkward because this doesn't really feel like
the type of place you go for a quick fuck- it's where you take someone to
impress them, to do all that touchy-feely emotional stuff that gives him hives.
Maui suddenly feels a bit apprehensive, unsure of what he's getting himself
into.
"You can see the whole village from here," she says, standing at the edge of a
precipitous drop. He walks over besides her and glances down; so late at night
there's only the cooking fires left smoldering, a dim red glow far below them
that barely illuminates the surrounding buildings. Beyond that is the endless
sea, moonlight breaking up on the waves, and above it all the blazing sky.
"It's beautiful," he admits, because there's no denying that it is, despite
anything else that the area may or may not imply. "But I didn't come here for
sight-seeing." He puts one of his hands on her shoulder as she turns back to
him.
"I know," Moana says, and makes no move to do anything but chew her lip in
hesitation.
She'd certainly seemed plenty eager on the way over, but he wonders if the
reality is too much for her now that they're here. "You okay, kid?"
"Don't call me that," she says immediately, and then blows out a breath. He
holds up his hands in appeasement; the nickname just slipped out. Besides, just
about everyone seems young when you're immortal. "I don't know what I'm doing,"
she confesses.
He very manfully doesn't laugh at the obviousness of her statement.
"Luckily for you, I do," Maui says. He leads her away from the cliff's edge to
the middle of the clearing and sits down on the grass, pulling her into his lap
as he goes. "What did you like about last time?"
She ducks her head away for a moment. "Everything?"
"Even the imminent death?"
Moana sends him an annoyed look. "Mostly everything." She takes the time to
really think about her answer this time, gaze drifting from his face to trace
idly around the tattoos somewhere in the vicinity of his neck. "I liked when
you touched me," she says, flicking her eyes back up. "And when you kissed my,
um."
Her face darkens even in the dim lighting and he grins. "If you aren't ready to
say it you aren't ready to do it," he says, mostly teasing.
She glares at him. "I liked it when you had sex with me," she says, staring
steadily at him now, enunciating each word carefully. "When you put your penis
inside my vagina and the both of us orgasmed."
"Well that's clear enough," Maui says, and some part of him is relieved to have
confirmation that he really hadn't been too much for her. "Your phrasing could
use some work, though."
"Your phrasing could use work," she mutters under her breath. Louder she says,
"I didn't like that I was on a rock the entire time."
He smiles and kisses her grumpy lips. "Lucky for you, I see plenty of grass."
She agrees with a little hum, her hands coming to a rest on his arms. "Might
have been deliberate."
"Have you been thinking about this?" he asks.
Moana licks her lips before nodding.
"How long?" He kisses her mouth and then the hinge of her jaw, earning himself
a little gasp.
"Since- ah!- since before you came back," she says, tilting her head to the
side to give him more access.
It makes him practically glow inside to hear it; ruined for mortal men, indeed.
"I thought about you," Maui tells her, and nips at her earlobe. Her fingers
tighten against his arms, fingernails digging into his skin. "About how you
tasted-" he presses his teeth against the thin skin of her throat- "how you
looked-" kisses down to the curve of her shoulder, drawing not-so-quiet noises
out of her- "how you felt, so good for me..."
She pushes into his touches, and her hips flex against him, drawing a groan out
of him when she presses against his hard cock, even though the layers of fabric
and leaves.
"Maui," she breathes, and he makes a low rumbling noise in answer, hand on her
back to urge her closer. Moana repeats herself, sharper. "Maui."
He pulls away because that didn't sound like an entirely pleased noise, and is
relieved to see that she doesn't look upset, doesn't look like she's having
second thoughts.
"Can I touch you?" she asks, and rocks herself in his lap enough to make it
clear what part of him she's talking about touching.
Maui relaxes, and huffs an amused breath. "Of course," he says. "You can touch
whatever part of me you want."
She plants a kiss on the corner of his lips, incongruously sweet for what
they're doing. She takes him at his word, hands tracing the lines of his
tattoos as they curve around his midsection, the markings on his thighs where
they disappear under the ragged edges of his skirt. The touches are somewhere
between a caress and purely exploratory; he has a feeling she's never had the
opportunity to really touch someone who isn't herself, let alone someone male.
Then she's reaching down with a determined look in her eye, sticking her hand
through the layers of leaves until her fingers are brushing against his
loincloth, and his hard cock below.
"Here, hang on," he says belatedly, and takes his hands off her to do an
awkward shimmy, getting his clothing down past his hips, squirming underneath
her to get it all the way off and discarded against the grass.
"Oh," Moana says when he's entirely bare and still again, now kneeling between
his legs rather than perched astride them. "It- you-" she looks back up to his
face. "That really fit inside me?"
He chuckles. "That it did, halfpint."
Like the last time she doesn't look scared, but now that she isn't buzzing from
an orgasm she looks slightly more nervous about the idea of it. Maui gives her
a moment, but before he's decided to make a move himself she's reaching out.
Her fingers are tentative when they brush his skin, her expression focused. She
had the same look on her face when he was teaching her wayfinding skills and he
feels a rush of fondness that is entirely at odds with the fact that she's
tracing a vein along the length of his cock.
Moana looks back up at him and gives him a smile that is pretty damn near
sultry, then wraps her hand entirely around him and strokes down in one long
motion. He groans at the sight of it, her fingers not quite able to meet around
his cock, the touch light and careful but earnest.
"You can be a little less delicate," he tells her, breath coming short from the
feeling of someone's hand against his skin, "Squeeze gently."
She nods, concentrating exactly as if she was learning another type of knot,
and tightens her grip enough for him to really feel it, a wave of pressure when
she pumps her hand. He's hard enough that he's leaking at the tip, the skin
there glistening with it, and she swipes up the clear fluid between her fingers
inquisitively.
"That's it," he says as she shuffles in closer, her other hand resting against
his thigh like she needs the leverage.
Not for the first time, Maui tells himself that the fact she barely knows what
she's doing should, if anything, be a deterrent. Also not for the first time,
he doesn't listen to himself.
"Can I make you come like this?" she asks as she keeps stroking him.
"You could," he says, "Kinda had other plans for the night, though."
She actually looks indecisive for a moment, hand stilling but still closed
around him. "Later?" Moana says.
"Sure," he agrees, "Later." He tips her chin up and kisses her, and it's a loss
when her hand falls away from his cock but he's willing to accept it when it
means he can start touching her instead, when he can get closer to finding out
if she's serious about letting him fuck her again.
He curls a hand around Moana's waist to pull her in close while she sighs into
the kiss, body flexing towards his. There's only a single knot holding her top
in place; he undoes it with ease, the fabric falling away to land soundlessly
on the grass.
The necklace he's never seen her without gleams in the starlight, a handspan
above the swell of her breasts, and he wonders if there's anything inside of it
now that Te Fiti's heart has been restored. Not that it matters, and especially
not when he has important things like finding out if one of her nipples is more
sensitive than the other to focus on.
She gives a little pained hiss when he just barely kneads the flesh of one of
her breasts and he pauses; he sometimes forgets how strong he is, sometimes
gets carried away, but he's being pretty delicate over here.
"They get sore before I," she waves a hand. "Before my cycle."
"Ah," Maui replies eloquently. "You're not now, are you?"
She shakes her head, which is a relief. He has in the past, but getting blood
involved is never really his favorite thing. He touches her even more
carefully, just light caresses that have her nipples pulling tight and her
pulse jumping in her throat. Nothing definitive about whether one's more
sensitive than the other; he suspects more testing will be needed.
She shivers and he mouths along the side of her neck until she's gasping.
"Could you," she says, hands running up and down his chest; if she's worried
about her touch riling up his tattoos enough to come alive, she gives no
indication of it. "Could you use your mouth again?"
"Liked it, huh?" Maui asks rhetorically.
"I already told you," she replies anyway, "I liked everything."
He lets out an amused puff of breath and licks up the length of her throat,
smiling to himself when she squirms but doesn't try to pull away.
"Alright," he says, "C'mon then."
He wraps an arm around her and tips her back, so her shoulders are lying
against the grass and her hips are held in place with his arm.
Moana gives a weak little laugh at the action, nervous as she looks at him down
the length of her body. Her expression goes from uncertain to determined, like
this is somehow a challenge he's posed and she's determined to succeed.
He undoes the knots holding her skirts closed and lets them fall to the side,
uncovering her body for him. He didn't get to see her entirely naked last time,
and he's missing the illumination of the sun but the moonlight's not too bad,
still highlights the curves of her form as she wiggles in place a bit, like
she's shy to be so exposed.
"Just lay back," Maui advises, kneeling between legs that have spread to let
him inside without any direction from him. She bites her lip and nods, and he
kisses the skin of her stomach just above the thatch of dark hair that covers
her outer lips, kisses the insides of her thighs, debates whether he wants to
tease her more.
He hitches her hips higher into the air and then uses his free hand to spread
her open instead, licks his way inside.
She gasps at the first swipe of his tongue; she's wet for him already, a fact
that sends a pulse of heat through him. Then she's moaning when he laps his
tongue against her clit in a broad stroke, adding a flick at the end for the
way it makes her twitch just a little.
He builds her up fast, using her youth and the things he'd learned against her,
and then backs off almost entirely. Leaves her clit alone, barely touches her
entrance; he instead licks and sucks idly at her labia and even so far as the
crease of her thigh, hands holding her hips firmly enough that she can't get
any leverage to rock against him even with her feet planted on the ground.
"Maui ," she whines, trying for a commanding tone he thinks. "What're you
doing."
He smirks and laps his tongue directly over her clit; she moans, and then
curses him when he goes right back to doing nothing particularly useful. It
might not be getting her off but it's still getting her wet, pussy hot and
slick against his lips.
He pulls away just enough to be sure she'll hear when he says, "If you can't
say it..."
Moana lets out a frustrated sort of noise; he thinks he can hear her ripping up
a handful of grass, though his range of vision can't confirm. "Make me come,"
she says, pushing her hips against his hands as if she can overpower him.
"Maui, you infuriating idiot, kiss my cunt and let me come."
He hums in answer and starts licking her in earnest again, moving his lips and
tongue against her until with one last flick against her clit she's coming,
shouting wordlessly as her legs try to clamp down on either side of his head.
As soon as he starts feeling her muscles contract he stops entirely, wondering
if she'll tell him to keep going or if she'll want a break.
She completely surprises him, which in and of itself should probably not be
surprising by now. "Use your fingers," she says around a gasp, "I want them
inside me."
He obligingly slides the hand not holding her hips up towards her pussy,
adjusting himself so there's enough room to actually get his fingers in there
with his face still pressed so close.
She moans long and loud when he dips a finger inside of her to the first
knuckle, pressing down towards her front. "Like that," Moana tells him, "Gods,
just- lick me again, use your mouth too."
She's getting the hang of his little game far too quickly, but he decides he
doesn't really mind for now. He slides his finger deeper while he starts
lapping at her clit again, rubbing the front of her walls in short motions
until he finds the spot that has her seizing up on a sharp inhale, body tensing
all around him.
She starts babbling then, meaningless sounds that might be bits and pieces of
words, and Maui hums in answer against her, knowing the noise is going to
transfer to her flesh. She shudders when he adds a second finger and moans when
he slides in a third, focusing on that sensitive spot but still rocking them in
and out, a preview of the fucking he very much hopes to give her.
He gets Moana to come a second time like that, and this time he lets her move
her hips, lets her work herself directly into a third while she gasps in
pleasure and surprise. He helps her surf the aftershocks until she abruptly
tugs herself away, his fingers slipping out of her as she scoots backwards to
collapse fully onto the grass.
He attempts to ask if she's okay, then clears his throat thickly and tries
again. "You alright?"
He can hear her panting in the otherwise silent night. "You're good at that,"
she says in an accusatory tone.
Maui huffs a laugh, concern vanishing. "I try," he says modestly. He tilts his
head to look at her, awkwardly lying half-curled in the grass. There's sweat
glistening on her skin, moonlight in her hair. "You tuckered out, princess?"
She groans. "Still not a princess."
"We could call it a night," he says, and licks the taste of her off his lips as
he sits back on his haunches. His hand reaches out and rubs over the skin of
her calf, lax with satisfaction. "Or I could fuck you."
She looks over and meets his gaze, then flicks her eyes down to the rest of
him. He hasn't softened at all from the lack of attention, is if anything
harder from anticipation. It would really suck to have to take care of himself,
but he doesn't really think she's entirely out for the count.
Moana chews on her lip as she considers him and then says, "Could I use my
mouth on you?"
And fuck if that thought doesn't make his cock absolutely throb. "Yeah," he
replies, "yeah, you could do that."
She sends him a bright smile and moves so she can kiss him; if she objects to
tasting herself in his mouth she gives no sign of it. "Maybe if you lie down?"
she says when she breaks away.
Maui certainly doesn't see any reason why not. He lays back and wraps an arm
under his head, propping himself up enough to see down the length of his body
to where she's moving to kneel besides his aching cock.
She tucks her hair behind her ear as she looks at him and he spreads his thighs
a little wider, letting her look her fill. She sends an almost shy glance up
towards his face and he attempts to make his expression encouraging.
"Just keep you teeth out of things," he advises.
Moana doesn't look particularly impressed with his advice but she bends down a
moment later anyway, breath gusting hot and damp over his dick; her hair
brushes against his skin, somewhere between sensuous and ticklish. She darts
her tongue out and licks over the head, a swipe of wet heat that has him making
a low noise of appreciation.
She glances up at him again and repeats the move with more confidence, slowly
encircling his entire circumference with little licks and broad swipes, tracing
the thick vein throbbing along the underside. He wants to watch her figure
things out for herself but it's also completely clear to him that she has no
idea what she's doing here, either.
"Wrap your hand around the middle," Maui says, and she obliges. Having
something covering even part of his cock sends a shiver of relief down his
spine.
She starts moving her hand up and down, like she had in the beginning of the
night, and though it's rough with nothing to ease the friction of skin-on-skin
he still groans out loud when she combines that with her licking.
"You should put it in your mouth," he tells her next.
Moana glances at him from the corner of her eye, either suspicion or annoyance
on her face- he can't tell in the dim lighting and bad angle. But either way
she doesn't tell him to be quiet, and a second later she's opening her lips and
slipping them over the head of his cock.
He can feel that she doesn't know how to keep her teeth out of the way
entirely- or maybe he's just too big for her to get her jaw around properly, a
thought that shouldn't be so appealing- but the wet heat of her mouth makes up
for the slight discomfort and he lets out a deep sigh at the feeling.
She keeps her hand moving on his shaft and licks at what fits inside her mouth,
and it is probably among one of the worst blowjobs he's ever gotten, but it
still feels damn good- until she pulls away from him suddenly.
"I don't know what I'm doing," she says, sounding supremely annoyed. He'd
taught her wayfinding like this, letting her work things out for herself, but
they're very different contexts. And he didn't really like her at the time,
whereas now he's far too fond of her for his own good.
"Hey, you're doing okay by me," Maui says.
She frowns at him. "You're barely even reacting," she says. "Am I doing things
wrong?"
"Not wrong per se," he replies honestly, and watches as she scowls to be proven
right. There are reasons he usually likes his partners to be experienced;
there's a pretty big difference between ordering someone around because it's
fun and because you're teaching them as they go.
"I just want to get this right," Moana says, sitting back in her heels.
Frustration is painted into every line of her body, and he finally sits up
rather than continue to lie flat.
"You were doing fine, babe," he says, putting a hand on the back of her neck.
She looks entirely unconvinced.
"Let's just-" she waves a hand. "I was okay when we had sex, right?"
"You were okay ten seconds ago," Maui says, but he can see that she's gotten
frustrated enough that she isn't going to even entertain the idea of trying
again until she's worked out a new plan of attack. "Do you want to have sex? I
can just finish myself off."
"Yes," she says firmly, then takes a deep breath and says, more calmly this
time, "I still want you to fuck me."
It's not precisely the most enthusiastic request he's ever gotten, but Moana
does look like she's being honest about wanting it, at least.
He keeps his hand on the back of her neck when he kisses her, tries to coax her
back into the playful eagerness she'd had before. She relaxes in increments as
he kisses and touches her, puts more of herself into the kiss until she's
making noises in the back of her throat, quiet and needy.
Maui bears her down to the ground again, her legs falling open in a wide spread
to let him between. Letting her ride him would give her more control, might
make her feel more confident- but if she's already discouraged from trying to
suck him off he thinks his taking charge this time is probably for the best.
"Yeah?" he asks, finger circling lightly around her clit, his other hand
planted in the grass next to her head. She's still wet, still open. That
awkward attempt at a blowjob wasn't nearly enough to eradicate the work he'd
already put in towards getting her ready.
"Yeah," she replies, sounding the good sort of breathless.
He takes his cock in hand and begins to ease himself inside, this time making
sure to keep his eyes open so he can watch her expression. Moana sucks in a
sharp breath when the head of his cock pushes fully inside of her, her eyes
focused on him from under half-lowered lids, a flush high on her cheeks. It's
slightly easier to keep his composure now than it was last time though she's no
less wonderful around him, hot and slick and almost tight enough to be
uncomfortable as her muscles flutter seemingly in time with her heartbeat.
He buries himself in a long slow slide; there isn't any reason to rush but he
knows this time that she can take him, doesn't feel as if he has to be quite so
hesitant as he fucks her open.
When he bottoms out inside of her Maui gives a deep groan, once again so fully
enveloped in her wet heat it's the only thing he can think about. He draws his
hips back just a little before sliding back in and she makes a noise not unlike
a whimper.
She feels like she's stretched to nearly her limits around him and he wonders
if she was sore afterwards, that first time; he's sure she must have been, but
he can't remember if it showed in her movements, if it slowed her down at all
as they evaded Tamatoa. There's no Lalotai to worry about this time, nothing
more strenuous for her to look forward to tomorrow than husking coconuts and
weaving baskets.
Moana isn't telling him to stop and while her mouth is open and panting she
doesn't look in pain or anything like it, looks just as eager for this as she
was to get his mouth on her.
He starts moving his hips in earnest, pressing heavily inside of her while he
pays enough attention this time to search out an angle that's going to work for
the both of them. She gives a strangled shout at one of his exploratory
movements and he repeats the motion exactly, smiling to himself when she moans
again, and begins babbling.
Maui picks up the pace, lengthening his thrusts, smoothing out the rhythm as he
focuses on keeping the angle right. Every stroke inside of her sends him
higher, goads him onwards. He keeps touching her, teases a little as he circles
too widely around her clit; she rolls her hips up against his, leg coming up to
hook around his side.
With the edge of a thousand years' worth of celibacy taken off he keeps his
head about him a bit better, manages to hold on when she cries out and comes.
He fucks her straight through it without pausing, revels in the way she's
squeezing around him in waves and the noises she's making, desperate. If
anything he moves faster, harder. Rougher.
"M-Maui," she pants, voice hoarse.
He gives a sort of wordless growl in reply, distracted. She feels amazing
around him, wrapping him up tight from cunt to legs to fingernails digging into
his arms, clinging to him like she's going to be swept out to sea. His hips
snap hard against hers, his fingers relentless as he circles her clit.
Moana scrunches up her face and rolls her head to the side and wails , coming a
second time like a fire igniting and he grins in triumph. Let her even think
about wanting some pitiful mortal after this, let her even try to believe
she'll be satisfied any other way than with his cock, his skills.
"Maui, Maui," she says, something urgent in her tone that doesn't sound
entirely happy, and it cuts through the fog of lust.
He abruptly checks his pace, surprised that he'd gotten so reckless, and she
gives a shivery sigh.
"Too much," she says, eyebrows drawn together.
Maui stops himself entirely with effort, trembling with the urge to keep
moving. "Calling it quits?" he asks, voice rough in his throat despite his
attempt to keep it light.
She doesn't reply, just looks up at him, breathing harsh. She looks young
again, tired. He kisses her parted lips and pulls out, wincing a little in
guilt when she can't quite hide a quiet hiss of discomfort. He's supposed to be
good for her, not hurt her- even if she hadn't told him to stop.
Moana relaxes her hold on him and he takes his hand away from her to wrap
around his cock instead, stroking himself fast and hard until he shouts and
spills across her belly, strips of white against her skin. He shouldn't come
inside of her anyway, whether or not she's gotten to the point of 'too much'.
"Sorry," he tells her, and presses a kiss to the side of her head. "You okay?"
"Fine," she says, though her voice is a bit shaky, hoarse.
He twists onto his side and flops onto the now-crushed grass, taking care to
keep his weight off her. Maui would like to be able to enjoy what was a pretty
spectacular orgasm, but once again there are other considerations to be had.
"Somehow I'm not convinced," he says. She turns to face him, her composure
starting to come back.
"I'm fine," she repeats. "Good, even."
She doesn't look like she's in any serious pain, or really much of any minor
one either, and so he lets himself relax. He didn't break her, didn't do any
damage. The fact that she can make him forget himself to the point where he's
actually worried about that is worrying in and of itself.
"High praise," he says, "It's so rare that sex with me is called 'good'."
Moana snorts and smacks a hand lightly against his arm. "Your ego doesn't need
any help from me."
He smirks, then softens his smile. "Sure you're okay, Curly?" He brushes a lock
of sweat-damp hair off the side of her face.
"Yes," she says, a touch of exasperation in her voice. "I liked it. It was
good- great. It was just a bit... much, at the end."
He accepts this answer and drapes his arm over her waist, taking advantage of
the fact that there isn't anywhere they need to be. She smiles and shuffles in
closer, pressing herself up along his front.
Her fingers trail over the skin of his chest; this time Mini-Maui stirs to life
under her touch, moving around in response to her fingers. Maui doesn't need to
look to know that there's a wide grin on the tattoo's little face.
"I'm glad you came back," she says.
He almost reiterates that he hadn't been here before at all so he can't really
be back, but decides that it's too snarky a reply for the moment. "Yeah," he
says instead, "it's good seeing you again."
They lay there for some time; long enough for the sweat to dry and various
other fluids to get crusty and gross. Moana begins to doze off and he knows it
would be better if she was back in her own bed, so he shakes her shoulder
gently until she opens her eyes to look at him in sleepy annoyance.
"Come on," he says, "We should get back."
She sits up with a yawn, stretching herself out. The sight of her nubile body
lined in starlight is almost enough for him to suggest they instead go for
another round, but the way she tries to hide a wince when she moves her hips
smothers the urge.
Maui gathers up her clothes and tosses them her way, leaving her to sort out
what goes where while he slides his skirt back on. They should find someplace
to rinse off, he thinks, but he's just a little too unfamiliar with the layout
of the island to know where water can be easily found. He stretches out his
legs with a quick turn around the clearing, plucking one of the fragrant
flowers lining the edges on a whim.
She comes up besides him, skirt tucked up high to cover the fact that his cum
is smeared all over her belly, and he holds the flower out to her with a smug
smile. She takes the flower and takes a deep sniff, letting out a little hum of
pleasure.
"It's a shame they're only open at night," Moana says.
That's all she says, a completely innocuous statement, but he feels a sudden
urge to go do something ridiculous and heroic- find a way to get these flowers
to bloom during the day, to bloom all year long. He shuts the thought away for
being far too much for the circumstances but still plucks a second flower to
consider while she tucks the first behind her ear, the white petals nearly
glowing against the dark of her hair.
Maui looks down at the flower cupped in his hands and closes his eyes, feeling
for where his fishhook lies down in the village below them, for the wisps of
energy from the plant. True magic is beyond him, especially without his hook
actually in hand but he can sometimes do little things, and if he concentrates
and pulls at the pulse of magic from his hook...
Through his closed eyelids he sees a dim glow, feels a little crackle of
energy. He opens his eyes to see the exact same flower, but now the petals have
a thin line of blue leading down into the center that seems to catch the
moonlight and glow with it. Moana's watching him in open fascination, head
cocked to the side and gaze intent.
"What was that?" she asks.
"Barely anything," he says, though he feels exactly what the seemingly simple
act has cost him- he's going to sleep very well tonight, as if the sex wasn't
already enough to guarantee that. "It should stay open now, though. Trade you?"
She looks from the flower to his face and back again, surprise plain to see in
her expression. "You did that for me?"
"Is that a no to the trade?"
Moana pulls the flower from her hair and puts it into his palm, taking the
enchanted one away with her. She smells it and her eyelids flutter shut, a
smile on her lips. "Thank you," she says.
It doesn't feel like how giving something to a mortal usually feels; he doesn't
want to throw out his chest and brag about what a great thing it is he's done,
doesn't want to awe her with telling her how it was done. Maui finds that he
wants to just have that smile never leave her face, that simple pleasure and
sincere gratitude.
It is entirely too strange a thought for him to contemplate at the moment; what
he actually says is a cocky "You're welcome" that has her snorting out an
amused breath.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning for fairly non-graphic vomit in this chapter. Skip the
     section beginning "They take her canoe out fishing when the sun's
     barely risen..." to avoid it entirely!
Moana walks around like she's nursing a respectable ache the entire next day,
though Maui has to admit that she does a pretty decent job of hiding it- no one
seems overly suspicious, at any rate. The flower stays tucked behind her ear
and doesn't wilt even in the heat of midday, and every time he catches sight of
it he finds himself fighting back a smile.
She sneaks into the great hall at night again in what he can tell is going to
become a lasting pattern and he wraps her in his arms, holds her to his chest,
and tells her that they're both going to sleep.
"What? No," Moana says, struggling against him in vain.
"You can cuddle up with me," he says, "Or you can go back to your own bed. But
I'm not doing anything but sleeping tonight."
"I'm not that sore," she says.
"Who said it was all about you?" he replies, though of course it is. He'd even
taken himself in hand earlier to take off the edge just in case she tried
persuading him; mortals need time for their bodies to recover and heal, and
since he isn't leaving tomorrow he doesn't plan to rush her.
She gives a frustrated huff but stops squirming. "Can I suck you, then?"
Maui is pretty sure his heart stops beating for a second there. It was a pretty
terrible blowjob she'd given the night before, but the confidence in her voice
suggests she might have gotten a few pointers during the times she wasn't with
him, and the sight of her lips wrapped around his cock isn't one he's likely to
ever find unappealing. But if she gets him off he's going to need to get her
off too, and next thing you know she'll never recover from being sore.
"Later," he promises.
He's going to be generous and say the noise she makes is a groan of irritation,
not a whine. "You suck," Moana tells him.
"But you don't," he says smarmily, and grins at the glare she gives him.
"Ugh, fine," she says, admitting defeat.
Maui relaxes his hold on her and she wiggles around, getting comfortable on the
bed with him.
"You do snore," she tells him.
He snorts. "Goodnight, princess."
"Stop calling me that!" Moana hisses in reply, and he closes his eyes with a
smile.
 

They take her canoe out fishing when the sun's barely risen, hooks of a more
practical size than his already attached to lines, ready to go into the water.
Maui isn't confident that they'll actually catch anything but he says nothing
as they trawl around, looking for a likely spot.
"The ocean still wave at you?" he asks idly, slicing up yesterday's fish to
bait their hooks with.
In answer Moana abruptly twists so she's hanging half off the side of the boat
and heaves, what little they'd grabbed for breakfast leaving her in a rush.
"Oh yuck," he says, leaning away. "There are far better ways to chum the
water."
She looks at him from the corner of her and shakes her head, but then heaves
and coughs up again. Maui has to admit that he doesn't know a whole lot about
getting sick- he's certainly never been in the position himself- but it isn't a
particularly good thing, he knows that. He can feel Mini-Maui perk to attention
under his skin, darting to the nearest vantage to see her condition for
himself.
"You okay?" he asks, setting down the fish and preparing to instead do...
something. Hold her hair back, maybe, despite the grossness of being so close
to a vomiting person. Take the canoe back to shore if need be.
She doesn't move for a moment, just hanging onto the side of the boat like
she's bracing for another attack. Then she nods, and scoops up some water to
rinse her mouth out with. "I thought my stomach was finally better," Moana
mutters to herself once she's spat it back out.
"So are you good now?" he asks, eyeing her up. She looks a little off around
the edges still, but not so much that he thinks she's going to hurl again.
"Yeah; I'm fine!" she says more loudly with a determined nod of her head,
moving away from the edge again. "I just hope we don't get too many bad waves."
"That's your department, Chosen One," Maui says. "And I don't think the ocean's
too happy about being puked on." As if that's the worst thing that's ever
happened to the sea.
On his chest Mini-Maui snaps one of the lines of his tattoos painfully,
demanding attention, and he turns away from her to frown down at him. "What?"
He's always surprised by how expressive the little guy can be, considering he's
tiny and made of magical ink. Right now he's looking pointedly up at Maui and
patting the little tattoo Moana on her back while she sits on the edge of her
boat, smile gone for once.
"Oh, what do you know about it," he tells him with a roll of his eyes, but
doesn't flick Mini-Maui back into his rightful spot. It's weird enough to keep
his attention that the little Moana's apparently now ganging up on him so
obviously too, and he feels vaguely guilty about the idea of forcing her back
to her normal position.
The real Moana is watching him with an amused expression, eyes fixed on his
chest. "That's so sweet," she says.
Maui scoffs. "Don't encourage him."
She doesn't look like she needs any back pats, not really- she's carrying
herself a little bit gingerly, sure, but she's on her feet and taking hold of
the lines well enough. He twitches his pectoral to shake the tattoos loose and
feels them go back to their rightful spots, settling back into being ink.
 

Another night later when he thinks she's recovered enough, they don't make it
as far as that special clearing before they run out of patience. Maui pins her
against the slender trunk of a tree and brings her off with his fingers,
keeping her quiet with his mouth against hers.
His suspicions were right; Moana's legs shake and get weak when she comes, only
the fact that he's holding her up stopping her from sliding down to the ground.
He gets her to orgasm twice before she's pushing his hand away, and she isn't
nearly strong enough to actually force him to do anything but he lets her
reverse their positions so it's his back to the tree.
Then she drops down to her knees, determined gleam in her eye, and pulls his
cock out into the air. She's still incredibly unpracticed, but this time she
uses her tongue to get him wet before taking hold with her hand, and when she
sucks him into her mouth she manages to keep her teeth covered, and her licking
seems like she actually has some idea of where to focus, and-
Maui warns her before he comes but she doesn't get the hint that she's supposed
to move away; she sucks harder until he spurts into her mouth with a bitten-off
shout, and then she pulls away with a disgusted face, spitting to get the taste
out. Another stripe lands across her cheek before she gets clear, and he's
feeling rather breathless and a bit giddy, can't decide if the sight is more
humorous or hot.
"I warned you," he says.
"They didn't say it tastes bad," Moana says, sounding betrayed. She rubs at the
line of cum on her skin with the back of her hand, grimacing.
"Not bad," he replies, "Just an acquired taste."
She shoots him a deeply suspicious look and gets back up to her feet, leaving
him to clean himself up.
"Who are 'they'?" he asks.
"Oh, um," she says, and her face flushes dark. "I kind of talked with some of
the women. Not about you! I never said your name."
Maui would be deeply surprised if any of the people she talked to don't put two
and two together; asking about sex stuff mere days after he rolls up to the
island is not particularly subtle. He shakes his head with a fond sigh and
reminds himself that if her father comes after him with a torch, he has his
hook back now.
 

About a week or two after he arrives at Motunui, Maui wakes up with Moana in
his arms- par for the course at this point- and her father standing next to a
pushed-aside curtain, staring silently at the two of them.
Tui meets his eyes and jerks his chin, beckoning him up.
Maui winces internally as he slips hurriedly back into his loincloth- of all
nights to decide to strip down entirely- and has to really ask himself if
grabbing his hook is too desperate a move. There's a reason that while he's
slept with chief's daughters before, he rarely does it more than once.
Thankfully at least Moana stays asleep this time; he can't even imagine adding
her reaction into this mess.
He is several hundred times older than this man, unquestionably physically
stronger, and yet he still has to resist cringing at being caught out. "That
wasn't what it looks like," he tries, though it was in fact exactly what it had
looked like.
Tui holds up a hand, forestalling whatever else he might have said. "Moana's
old enough to make her own choices," he says, though there's a tightness around
his mouth that suggests he doesn't truly believe so. He takes a breath and then
says, "What do you know about boat building."
"Boat building?" It's a pretty huge leap in topics, and Maui isn't entirely
sure he's following.
He nods. "Our voyaging canoes were behind the waterfall for too long," Tui says
with regret in his voice. "Some of them need extensive repairs... You're our
guest, of course, but another set of skilled hands would be appreciated."
Why in the world were they storing boats behind a waterfall? "Of course," Maui
replies. "I've built 'em from the ground up, so just let me know what you need
worked on."
Tui doesn't thank him or tell him where the work is going to be done, only nods
again. His eyes flick past Maui's shoulders, to the sectioned-off room with the
mats and his sleeping daughter. "She deserves better than to be led on with
empty promises," he says.
Maui balks; what promises has he even implied ? They haven't talked about
anything promise-worthy that he's aware of. Not even ridiculous heat-of-the-
moment promises, unless sex stuff counts and he really doubts it does in this
case. "There hasn't been any leading-on," he says and then bites his tongue
before he can say anything too incriminating about what there has been.
"And it'd better stay that way," Tui says with a meaningful look.
So it's only a preemptive worry then, which makes things slightly better.
Though it stings his honor a bit that apparently people think he's the type to
string along women when he's never been anything but honest with the people he
sleeps with. "Of course," Maui replies, meaning it entirely.
 

Once Chief Tui knows, the entire island knows. Or at least stops pretending not
to know. Very little changes, only now he can kiss Moana during the daytime
without looking over his shoulder, and she doesn't feel the need to sneak from
her parents' house to the great hall and back under the cover of night but
rather just joins him from the start.
Motunui isn't the most modest island he's been to, but it's a far cry from
being the most open. He can occasionally hear couples, even in the daytime, but
the screens on their houses are universally down, only the young and brash
sneaking off to the great outdoors for a tumble.
The point being, Maui relaxes about whether he's allowed to have sex with Moana
in his guest quarters or if he has to continue hiking out into the bush every
time. He closes up the blinds but keeps a lamp lit, likes being able to
appreciate how she looks- and, okay, he also gets a kick out of the shadows
that they throw.
"I think," he says in between kisses, "You should show me how you get off."
Moana nips at his lower lip. "You've seen me come before."
"No," he says with a shake of his head, "I mean, you should show me how you
touch yourself."
"Oh," she replies. She licks her lips, and adjusts her place on his lap.
They're both naked already, cool night air counteracted by how close they're
pressed. "You want to just watch?"
"I might be persuaded to join in," Maui says with a shrug. He likes just
watching, sure, but he likes knowing he's directly bringing someone pleasure
more, likes to feel how they're quivering in eagerness.
She considers this for a moment before nodding. "But then I want to watch you,"
she says, as if there's even a chance he might not want to show off for her.
"Deal."
Moana smiles a little and scoots off his lap, onto the pile of soft mats. "Um,
I'm usually lying down."
He waves out a hand; his bed is her bed. She gets comfy, wiggles in place like
she wants to arrange the fabric under her to her satisfaction.
Then she looks up at him almost coyly, spread out like she's a feast for him,
and starts touching herself. She caresses her breasts- a bit too showily at
first, he thinks, playing it up like she's putting on an act- and pinches at
her nipples to get them nice and hard before one of her hands snakes down her
stomach. Her legs splay open, graceless, and she lets out a sigh as she strokes
a finger through her folds.
Maui watches quietly, drinking in the sight of her, how the firelight glimmers
warm gold across her skin.
She brings her fingers up to her mouth and wets them unselfconsciously before
putting them back against her pussy, head rolling back just a bit further at
the touch. "I thought about you," she says, eyes sliding open to find him.
"Yeah?"
She hums, and rolls her hips up into her fingers as she strokes her clit. "Even
right after," she says, "When we were back on the canoe. I thought about
just... asking. But it wasn't the time."
"No," he agrees, "Probably not."
Moana cracks half a smile. Her fingers trail down so they're dipping inside her
opening and she closes her eyes again. "Never felt anything like it," she
sighs. The hand on her breast kneads the tender flesh there, rolling her nipple
through her fingers enticingly.  "My fingers just aren't the same."
He rubs his palm flat against his cock, but resists the urge to really take
himself in hand. He's sure that she's pulling his strings to some extent, but
it sounds far too genuine to be entirely fabricated. "You didn't ask anyone
else to help?"
She shakes her head, fingers moving faster. She takes her other hand off her
chest and brings it down between her legs as well, keeps one focused on her
clit while she slides the fingers of her other inside of herself. "I didn't
want any of them," she says.
Maui isn't entirely sure he's going to be able to just watch.
It looks like she's going to say something else but she only moans, feet
planted on the ground while her hips buck up into her touch, fingers fucking in
and out of her cunt. This was definitely one of his better ideas; her body
catches the light from the torch as she flexes with complete abandon, muscles
curving and chest heaving.
Her fingers tighten their focus, face scrunching up with the effort she's
putting into it, and then she's biting back a cry as she comes, hips rocking
wildly.
She sucks down a few shuddery breaths and relaxes her body again, fingers
moving idly before she takes them away entirely with a little sigh. Moana's
eyes open, seeming entirely black when they meet his gaze, and she props
herself up on her arms.
"I don't think I really saw your technique," he says, "You might need to
demonstrate again."
She huffs an amused breath and licks her lips. "You said I could watch you,
next."
"I did," he agrees. He sits cross-legged across from her and debates how showy
to make this. He can make it an entire event, a real spectacle. Or...
Maui goes for the straightforward approach for a change. He smears around the
precome that's beading up on the tip of his cock and then wraps his hand around
his shaft, groaning a little to finally be getting some relief. He doesn't
particularly need anything fancy- no crazy twists, no fingers roaming into
interesting places, no weird fantasies. Once you've done most everything you
begin to appreciate the basics again, and his technique for jerking off was
perfected long before he got stranded on that island.
He pumps his hand up and down, just the right amount of pressure between his
fingers, and feels his hips twitch with the urge to fuck forward no matter how
awkward the position is for it.
He jumps a little when he feels Moana's hand land against his- he hadn't
noticed that she'd even moved- she doesn't seem as if she's reaching out to
stop him, more like she wants to join in. Her hand looks tiny against his and
when he loosens his grip to let her in it looks tiny against his cock, too.
He doesn't even try to hold in the moan he makes at her touch and she darts a
smile his way before focusing back on what her hand is doing. She's picked up
things quickly since she first tried this, rubs her thumb just under the head
and traces the throbbing vein along the underside with a blunt nail and- he
realizes that she's replicating what things she's done with her mouth, since he
hasn't had her jack him off before.
"Did you think about me?" she asks, a bit offhandedly.
Maui chuckles as best he can under the circumstances. "More than I should have,
brat," he says.
She looks pleased by that, doesn't even react to the nickname. Her free hand
comes to a rest against his thigh, thumb idly stroking one of the thick
tattooed lines, while she speeds up the pace of her strokes.
"What about?"
Since she seems to be taking over he leans back and braces himself on his
hands, watches her as she touches him. She doesn't look like she's merely
curious the way she'd mostly been that first time, though she's very far from
worshipful like some people get.
"I thought about how you looked," he says, knowing exactly what she's after
with these questions. "Thought about the noises you made."
Talking about it makes the memories flood through him, both how hot the initial
encounter was and the handful of times he'd gotten himself off to it later,
vaguely guilty because he didn't know yet if she was really as okay with it as
she seemed but unable to hold himself back.
Moana doesn't ask him to elaborate, but he can see the pleased look in her eyes
as she keeps stroking his cock, gathering up the precome he's leaking like mad
to keep everything slick and wonderful.
"You were so good, know that?" He's panting now, has to concentrate on not just
enjoying the sensations. "Couldn't stop thinking about how you felt under me,
how your pretty little pussy tasted, your sweet mouth..."
Her cheeks are flushed dark red, lips bitten like she's trying to keep down a
smile; her eyes dart up to meet his and Maui can't help the broad dopey grin he
feels grow across his face.
"You're going to make me come," he says, because a warning in case she has
other plans seems like the polite thing to do.
Moana rubs her thumb right over the leaking tip of his cock. "That's the idea."
He huffs in amusement and starts rolling his hips up into her touch; she
fumbles for a moment but then catches back up, and he lets the heat of
impending orgasm build up in him, breaths getting ragged. "That's it," he tells
her, "You've gotten so good at this..."
"I'm a fast learner," she says glibly, flashing him a cheeky smile right right
as she does something with her fingers that he can't track because he's coming
with a surprised shout, hips stuttering up into her grip.
Maui grabs for her neck and tugs her up to kiss, smothering her satisfied
laughter with his lips. It's absolutely ridiculous, the things she does to him.
 

The island is so small that there really isn't a need for a formal 'the chief
will hear complaints today' type of an event outside of their scheduled council
meetings, but in his experience one problem being solved is followed by another
by another, and the entire day gets devoted to squabbles anyway. The pattern
seems to be holding true here as well.
Maui has little interest in the process and no stake in any of the outcomes,
but he still finds himself leaning against one of the outer posts to watch
Moana for a while as she presides over things inside one of the gathering
halls. The flower he magicked for her is woven into a wreath around her head,
brilliant white against the rest; her back is straight, her gaze clear as she
devotes what seems to him to be an undue amount of attention to the matter at
hand.
"I don't care that he fed her sometimes," one of the villagers is saying with
expansive hand gestures, "That was my sow! And I was going to breed her, too,
so you've cost me piglets."
"We talked about it! And I gave you some of the meat, anyway," the other
defends, arms crossed.
Moana looks as if she has never been more invested in the outcome of a
disagreement in her life. "Koli, did you accept meat from him?"
"Well, yeah," the first speaks. "She wasn't gonna get any deader and we need to
eat."
"And Hingano, did you know about his plans to breed the sow?"
They shake their head. "Never heard a word about it."
Moana leans back and nods. He can just about pick up the sweet fragrance of the
night-blooming flower in the air if he pays attention. "Koli, you clearly had a
joint ownership, and Hingano had a right to slaughter the pig. However," she
continues, hand held up to forestall their angry protest- "he shouldn't have
done so without checking that you weren't planning to breed her. Hingano,
you'll give Koli a piglet from your next litter as compensation."
The villagers eye each other up, and Maui thinks the resolution sounds fair to
him but there's no telling what they'll decide. Grudgingly, they both end up
nodding in agreement.
She maintains her dignified appearance but he can see the glow of satisfaction
under the surface, and it has him smiling to himself. Her father lays a hand on
her shoulder and gives her a proud nod, obviously agreeing with her decision.
She looks up at him and then her eyes flash over to Maui as if she knew he was
standing there, and he wonders if she's going to suggest he come over, if he
help her. There isn't anything here that she can't do better on her own and he
doubts he'll be able to fake concern for the other people who stop by to
complain. Not unless they have any real problems, the type he's sure to have
noticed before them anyway on such a small island.
But Moana only smiles real quick, like she wants to share the little victory
with him, and then she's turning back to the next set of villagers who have
something to say.
He watches for a while longer, listening to her ask questions and suggest
solutions and try to uncover what the real problem is. She's good at it, fits
right in next to her father and mother, looks at ease handling even important
things like structurally-damaging vandalism. It's hard sometimes to remember
that she's been training to do this stuff since she was a kid but today she
looks it- at least when she doesn't accidentally break into giggles hearing
about one person's, ahem, personal plight.
Not that he can blame her; Maui himself laughs loud enough that he sees himself
out before he can get anything thrown at him.
***** Chapter 4 *****
"How quiet can you be?" Maui asks, sliding a hand around Moana's waist to snag
her as she walks past.
She whirls in surprise, narrowly spilling the entire basket of harvested yams
she's carrying back to the village. It amuses him endlessly to see her so
dedicated to being a part of the mundane life, though if he thinks about it, it
makes some sense that Motunui's chiefs wouldn't be so high-and-mighty after a
thousand years in the same little village.
"Quiet about what?" she asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
He grins, and rubs his thumb against the exposed skin of her middle at the same
time as he swoops down for a quick kiss. It's perfectly chaste, just a press of
lips before he pulls away to send her a significant look.
"Oh," Moana says, catching on immediately. Her eyes swing from her basket to
the village just down the pathway to the garden patch just behind them, no one
in sight at either location for the moment, before returning to his face. She
balances the basket against her hip and grabs his wrist with her now-free-hand,
tugs him off the pathway into the trees.
"I didn't have plans for yams," he tells her.
"If anyone sees them abandoned they'll get suspicious," she says.
Maui can appreciate the reasoning there. He walks just far enough into the
swaying green shadows that he thinks they'll be out of sight of anyone not look
too closely and then plucks the basket from her, setting it down on the ground.
She attacks while he's still bent over, mouth against his like she's the one
who's been thinking about this since he woke up alone. He kisses back just as
passionately, wraps his hands around her body and immediately goes for the
fastenings of her clothes.
"Here's the game," he says into the shell of her ear, because sometimes he
likes to do this, introduce some ridiculous element half just to see if she'll
go for it. It's a bit less ridiculous and more practical today, but the habit
stands. "You're going to stay very, very quiet so nobody finds us." He nips at
the skin at the crease of her jaw. "And I'm going to fuck you until you
scream."
Moana makes a quiet noise already, throaty. "That seems contradictory."
"'s why it's a game, babe," he says.
"What if I make you scream?" she asks, and then pulls a face. "That sounds
weird. Shout? Yell?"
Maui lets out an amused breath and kisses her quiet, palms one of her newly-
bared breasts and sucks at her tongue until she sways into him, her hands
grabbing for the belt around his hips. It's too easy a challenge if he can
silence her this way, he decides, and when his fingers find her wet between her
legs he abruptly spins her around.
She lets out a shiver of laughter at the action, but doesn't object when he
bears her down to the ground, hand wrapped around her front to cup her breast
and pussy as he goes. Moana braces herself on hands and knees, legs spreading
wide enough to let him between. He kisses the back of her neck and takes away
his hand on her chest to keep his weight off her even as he covers her with his
body, letting her feel how hard he is for her.
He rolls the little nub of her clit between his fingers and she moans quietly.
"Shh," he reminds her, and she huffs.
"You call this a challenge?" she says, arching her back so her ass rolls
against him.
Maui rubs her clit again and then dips his fingers inside her cunt; with all
the sex they've been having she's gotten better at taking him, doesn't need as
much warming up, but he doesn't think he'll ever want her to go entirely
unprepared. She adjusts the stance of her legs, opens herself a little more for
his touch.
He doesn't take the time to work her to actual orgasm, just fucks his fingers
inside of her for a few strokes until she lets out a quiet, impatient whine.
"Yeah?" he asks, "You ready for me?" She feels ready to him, hot and
practically dripping down his wrist, but if he gets her talking she might
forget to keep quiet. He doesn't particularly care if someone does find them;
let them look, let them watch how a demigod satisfies a woman.
Moana rocks back against him. "I thought you said there'd be fucking."
At that he pulls himself back onto his knees and withdraws his fingers, shoves
his skirt and loincloth down his thighs and takes a moment to slide his
slickened hand down his aching erection before lining himself up. She lets out
a barely-audible whimper when he pushes inside her in a steady motion and he
stifles a groan of his own, never quite prepared for how she actually feels
around him.
Maui wraps his hands around her hips while he begins moving inside her,
building quickly to a fast and slightly rough pace. She rocks herself back into
every thrust, entire body flexing under and around him, eager as always.
Her hair completely obscures her face, a curly black curtain, but by the
quality of noises she's making he'd bet she has her lip bitten between her
teeth to muffle herself.
A particularly hard thrust has Moana crying out, just a smidge too loudly.
"They're going to hear you," he whispers. It's perfect timing; he can hear a
few people ambling down the pathway, talking in cheerful voices.
She whines, and he can't tell if it's anxiety or need he hears in the high-
pitched noise. It doesn't sound as if the people have any idea of what's
happening barely off the path, but the idea of it sends a heavy throb through
him. Maui starts touching her clit again, rubbing carefully in time with his
motions until she lets out a ragged gasp and comes, her cunt going wild around
him.
The people have moved on, oblivious.
"I'm winning," she tells him with a touch of smugness, and he lets out a sharp
breath of laughter.
He lays himself over her again, rolling into a different rhythm- slower,
deeper. Angled carefully. She slides from balancing on her hands down to her
elbows, arching further into him. He mouths at the side of her neck, pushes
aside her hair so he can suck a mark just below her ear that he knows will turn
red, visible to everyone who looks at her as if there's any doubt about what
he's been doing with her.
Moana moans deep in her chest and he feels her legs start to tremble even as he
braces his weight onto his other hand, pumping into her steadily. This is the
sort of pace he can keep up for hours, wring her out until even her youthful
energy is exhausted.
"Maui," she pants, and he hums in answer. "What if someone sees us?"
He huffs and pinches her clit; that's sort of the whole point here.
"They might get jealous," she says, squeezing down on his cock as he moves,
"Want you for themselves."
Maui isn't sure where she's going with this but he's willing to listen. She
intersperses her words with quiet noises, whimpers and bitten-off moans, her
walls clutching at him as she pushes her hips back into his motions.
"Seeing how beautiful you are, your thick hard cock, how good... Ah! You're so
great at this..."
He groans and finds his hips grinding against her ass with every stroke like he
can get any deeper, cock throbbing.
"Watch you filling me up with your big dick, fucking me so good..."
Moana keeps babbling, voice never rising too loudly as she praises him, and
he'd planned to draw this out as long as she would let him but he feels his
balls tightening, orgasm building. She throws her head back, hair rippling in
the dappled sunlight, and squeezes down around him in waves as she comes; never
once does she stop telling him how great he is.
"You're so ah-amazing!"
He barely manages pull out before he's coming hard.
He rests his forehead against her sweaty back and smears his cock through her
slick folds, rubbing her clit pointedly until she's gasping and shuddering
again.
"You," Maui pants as his heart slows down, voice rough, "are a filthy. Rotten.
Cheater."
She lets out a peal of smug laughter. "I win."
 

The repairs on the biggest canoe get finished- new mast, new planking, the sail
carefully patched- and it calls for a celebration.
Maui even goes so far as to freshen up his skirt with some bright new leaves,
since he'll certainly be involved in the dancing and general revelry.
Moana breaks out the feathered skirt again, a wreath of colorful flowers with
the wilting-but-still-hanging-on enchanted flower front and center waiting for
her to put on. He isn't entirely sure why she's getting ready in the great hall
with him, but he suspects part of it is to drive him crazy knowing he can't
mess her up.
"This isn't fitting right," she says, staring down at the skirt in her hands.
It's wrapped around her waist like normal, but it looks as if the sides aren't
quite meeting.
He snorts. "Guess you should start going easy on the feasting."
"I haven't been eating a lot," she says with a frown. "My stomach's finally
settled but..."
Maui rests his hands on the bare curve of her shoulders. "Maybe you're gonna
grow taller, shortstack," he says. "Out before up."
It's another one of the awkward reminders of the fact that she's still young,
still really only growing into being a woman, and he elects to ignore it at
least for now.
"Yeah, maybe," Moana says, and sighs. "I still can't wear this tonight."
He considers the skirt in her hands, the lacings that are meant to close it
rather than her usual more casual knots. There's a span not quite the width of
her palm that it won't cover, not unless she hikes it up far enough above her
stomach to become indecently short.
"Lemme see that," he says, and kneels down so he can get a closer look. Maui
ties the laces as they are, gap and all, and then tugs the skirt so the open
seam runs down the length of her thigh instead of her side.
"See?" she says, gesturing to where her skimpy under-skirt and leg are visible,
"I can't wear it. I'll just get my other one, it's fine."
He looks at her from under his eyebrows. "Just keep still," he says, and
reaches for the pile of leaves he hadn't used. There's enough of them that are
still pretty enough to use and he weaves them into the gap, covering up the
flash of skin. It's a rush job, won't hold up for very long, but it looks
fairly decent, like it was supposed to be there instead of hastily patching a
rip. A rip he hadn't even put there, he thinks with an internal grumble, but
that her parents will probably silently blame him for anyway.
"There," he says, no sign of his aggrieved thoughts leaching into his tone,
"Now your tummy isn't ruining the night."
Moana swats his shoulder. "You just ruined that moment."
He grins up at her and kisses her stomach before getting back to his feet.
There is a bit of an extra curve to her belly, he thinks, barely noticeable but
sort of cute on her. "Now come on, Chiefy, we're gonna be late."
 

They argue about the behavior of the currents surrounding Motunui until Moana
grabs her canoe and takes them out to sea. He knows what they're going to find
until quite suddenly he feels the water underneath their hull shifting in an
unexpected way.
Maui sticks his hand into the water and feels the strange slipstream with his
bare skin, then turns to squint suspiciously at her. "Are you getting the sea
to mess with me?"
She laughs a little, smug. "I told you," she says. "I think it's something to
do with the reef."
He turns from her and shades his eyes as he looks back towards the island and
its protective ridge of coral. If it's not as solid as it looks from here and
some of the current flows through rather than around... "Maybe," he allows.
He can feel Mini-Maui scratching yet another tally in Moana's column on his
chest, as if he really needs the confirmation. Traitorous little inkblot.
There's no other real reason for them to be out; they didn't even keep up the
pretense of taking fishing gear. They should just head back- probably shouldn't
have headed out at all, really, considering that there's always work needing to
be done. He wonders if she's really brought him out here so they can get off
surrounded by the ocean she loves so much, and he isn't sure whether it's a
particularly good idea- if only for the challenge of staying balanced while
rocking a canoe like that.
"Are there any islands nearby?" Moana asks, and when he glances at her her eyes
are trained on the far horizon, her skin aglow with the sunlight dazzling off
the waves.
He knows the answer, of course. Has sailed around and flown over and swum past
maybe every island there is, and created a few just for kicks as well. He might
not remember them individually but he has at least a general sense of their
layouts, needs it if he's going to keep track of where he is and where he has
been.
"Telling would be cheating," he says with false primness.
She sighs. "Let's just keep going," she says. "Just because the rest aren't
ready to voyage yet..." There's naked longing in her voice, the pull towards
the unknown horizon still strong inside of her.
"We're not exactly packing for a voyage like that," Maui says. There's some
food aboard- he doesn't see the point in not having things to eat when the
opportunity's there- but only a single gourd of water that's enough for a day,
maybe.
"My birthday's tomorrow," she says, not sounding particularly happy about it.
"I'll be seventeen."
Sixteen is a much, much better age than some of his worries. It's hard to be
accurate when he judges mortal ages and she really hadn't seemed all that young
but he'd still been afraid- but sixteen is alright, sixteen is old enough to
assuage some of the lingering squirminess in his gut.
"Happy birthday," he tells her.
"My parents are going to make a big deal of it, they always do," Moana says.
She sits on the outrigger platform and splashes her feet into the water, the
ocean splashing back playfully. "But I don't want a party, especially not when
Gramma won't be there."
She sounds exactly her age- impossibly young, frustrated with her lack of
agency and on the edge of sullen. Once again, Maui thinks that he should
probably step back. Instead he opens his mouth and says, "What direction,
birthday girl?"
She looks up at him with cautious disbelief. "You're not going to tell me to go
back?"
"What's the point?" he says with a shrug. "If you really want to get away I'm
sure you'll just take the boat later tonight. 'Least this way I can keep an eye
on you."
"I don't need a chaperone," Moana says, but her expression is lightening.
He blows a disbelieving breath through his lips. "You get into trouble sitting
still."
"We're going west," she declares, getting up to her feet again. "I haven't gone
west yet."
Maui flies back to Motunui quickly while she navigates the canoe out of that
strange little slipstream current, grabbing up some more water to carry back in
his talons. Her mother sees him and he attempts an excuse because it's pretty
obvious what's going on and he doesn't actually know how they feel about
unannounced field trips before important dates, but she just hands him a string
of pretty carved beads to pass along, saying they're from Moana's grandmother.
He decides to hide the beads until it's actually her birthday, tucking them
into the bottom of one of the storage baskets below the decking when he stows
the water.
So they sail west, and it's the furthest away from Motunui they've gone
together since their first voyage. He watches her and feels real pride at how
she's handling the sail, how comfortable she's become at the required actions
and judgement calls. On his skin Mini-Maui and the little tattoo Moana are
practically doing somersaults, sailing happily off to nowhere together.
There's still an endless list of things he can teach her, ways to elevate her
from an adept wayfinder to one who's truly masterful, but he's willing to let
her figure some things out for herself. Like how to tell if they're actually
getting close to an island or if she's going to shoot right on past.
"You know something I don't," Moana accuses after a while. "You've got that
look on your face."
"What look?" he says innocently. They're a few hours past sunset, the lack of a
moon making the stars stand out all the more against the darkness of the sky.
She scrutinizes him silently, then huffs and stands up from the oar. "What did
I get wrong?"
"Well, now that you mention it," Maui says, and proceeds to guide her through
reading the subtle signs of an approaching landmass. He remembers this place,
if it's the one he's thinking of- tiny, uninhabited; good for a few days rest
but nothing to settle on. It would be easier in the daytime when the clouds are
plain to see and birds are active, but he has a pretty good idea of where they
are and that's enough to get them through until sunrise.
The morning dawns with a spit of land on the horizon just like he was hoping
for, and it's hard to know if it's the sun or Moana's brilliant smile that's
lighting up the sky more.
"Happy birthday, Moana," he says grandly, sweeping out a hand, "I got you an
island."
She smacks him playfully and he smiles back, feeling almost dangerously fond of
her.
Before they make landfall he transforms into a hawk and buzzes the perimeter,
just in case things have changed and they're going to have to deal with
strangers, but the islet is as empty as it ever was. He does acrobatics in the
air around her canoe while she steers it towards the shore, turning back into a
man just in time to pull the hull clear of the water.
They take a break to eat and nap and fuck, and then they explore the island and
fuck, and then he remembers about the beads and gives them to her and somehow
even that ends up with them fucking. He can't really find any reasons to
complain.
Well, he can complain about the fact that he can't stop thinking about it being
her birthday. Maui has only a vague idea of how old he is- the years tend to
blur together after a few centuries- and no recollection at all of even what
season he might have been born in. Whereas Moana is only today seventeen, and
counting the years is something that's important to mortals because they're
mortal.
She won't have a few hundred years to spend exploring little islands like
these; she might get another fifty, if she's lucky, before she has to settle
her aching bones somewhere less exciting for good. She might live to be a
hundred or she might snap her neck tomorrow but no matter what, she'll be cold
and dead one day.
They spend the night on the islet and Maui stays awake with her curled up
against him, contemplating the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. His
tattoos are silent and still but he feels Moana's mark keenly all the same, the
only part of her that will endure indefinitely.
He's met a lot of mortals in his day, has lain with some the exact same way
he's lying with her now, and it still makes his heart feel bruised to think
about the realities of it. That one day her bright spark is going to be
extinguished and he'll be alone again without the one person who's come closest
to making him feel truly known.
He loves humans, loves the way they love him, but he rarely feels so aware of
the gulf between their lives and his.
 

Rain is pouring down outside of the great hall, streaming off the thatched roof
and puddling on the ground outside. Maui had gone out with the fishermen before
the clouds broke and pulled in net after net filled with fish driven to the
surface by the impending rain, Moana running around inland to get the village
ready for what was sure to be an intense storm.
It's cozy and dry inside the hall but her hair is still wet through even now, a
cascading sheet of black that hides her face as she rides him, head bent
forward in concentration.
He reaches out and brushes part of her hair back behind her ear, and at the
action she tilts her face to look at him, not breaking her stride as she works
herself to climax, slow and unhurried. She's damp and red-cheeked, her eyes
mostly unfocused and her mouth hanging open, and Maui feels a wave of emotion
he very much does not want to think about enough to name surge through him.
"What?" Moana asks, rhythm faltering.
He shakes his head and she gives him a suspicious look, but then he slides his
hand down to where he's disappearing into her and she gasps, eyes fluttering
shut. A moment later she's moaning out his name as she comes in hot waves
around him, any strangeness there might have been on his part forgotten.
When she's tired out and sleeping he gets up and looks out the one screen
they'd left open, facing the ocean so she could watch the lightning dance
across the water. What is he doing? He just got back his freedom and he's
wasting it on a tiny island and a tiny human, and suddenly the knowledge of it
all seems to suffocate him from the inside out.
Maui rubs his chest and looks back to his fishhook, laying casually against one
of the posts. He could walk over and grab it and leave- a storm, no matter how
fierce, is little concern to him- and no one could stop him.
But then Moana makes a quiet noise in her sleep, and he sees her hand reach out
across the mats for where he was lying moments ago, and the urge to be gone is
tempered with the urge to hold her close, keep her warm against the chill of
rain.
In the end he does neither, staring out across the ocean until the storm dries
up and the sun comes out for another day.
 

"Hey," he says to Moana, twirling his hook in his hands. His palms feel damp
against the corded handle of it. "I'm gonna head out for a while."
She looks up from what she's doing- weaving a section of new sail, it looks
like-  and frowns at him in confusion. "Is something wrong?"
"Nah," he replies breezily, "Itchy feet. See you!" Maui transforms mid-leap,
brand new feathers effectively smothering the way Mini-Maui is tugging at his
skin.
"Hey!" she shouts, "Maui! Where are you going?"
He knows it's a pretty terrible way to leave, but he desperately feels the need
for space and it isn't like he's planning to be gone for all that long. A few
weeks, maybe, before he pops back in to say hello again. It's just that he know
if he talks to her he's going to get sucked into staying even longer, and he
needs to clear his head.
He gets a few hours under his wings before realizing that he'd had a perfectly
serviceable canoe that he could have taken instead. Now he doesn't have a way
to keep food or water with him, no handy platform to sleep on...
Oh well.
Maui flies out far enough that his wings start to feel heavy, and then turns
into a shark for a bit and eats some fish, and then finds a nice little island
that's actually deserted to stretch out on.
He likes Moana, he really does. If he's honest he probably likes her too much,
the type of liking that makes him nervous, makes him do things like run off
into the distance because he'd rather not think about any of it.
She's just so young and so achingly mortal, everything that's wonderful about
humans contained inside of her- and everything bad, as well. It makes him want
to do crazy things for her- charm every one of those flowers she likes so
they'll bloom forever in her presence, pull up new islands just for her to
find, take the moon out of the sky and fashion it into a necklace for her to
wear.
And even just acknowledging that he's feeling those sorts of things makes his
chest feel tight, makes him want to get up and run even further.
Eventually he finds an island that's a little less deserted and enjoys another
village's hospitality, trading tales of his great feats for a feast and a place
to stay. More than one of the people living there eye him up as the night winds
down, gazes inviting.
Maui enjoys the personal hospitality of one not-at-all-connected-to-their-chief
villager but it doesn't feel quite right. Oh it's pleasurable, sure, but it
only sates his body and nothing else. Not that there's anything else that needs
sating, not like he turned half a dozen times during his story-telling looking
for someone to pick up the thread seamlessly, not like he was looking for a
particular curl to anyone's hair, not like he's haunted by the scent of night-
blooming flowers.
He leaves the next day.
Some time later he has a minor scuffle with a pair of bat-like monsters out of
Lalotai, barely enough to work up a sweat over. Certainly not enough to
distract his circling thoughts, lately always pulled back towards the same
topic.
She's stubborn like that, won't even leave his own mind alone. He likes her
persistence, the way she pushes and pushes until she's done whatever it is
she's decided to do, whether it half-kills her or not. It probably will end up
killing her one day.
The people of Motunui are nearly ready to go voyaging; he wonders if they'll
have started before he gets back. If instead of seeing Moana safe on her little
island she'll be out on the waves like she's meant to be, recklessly chasing
the horizon.
Maui prods at one of the demon carcasses with his toe and sighs.
"I know," he says to Mini-Maui, acknowledging him at last, which doesn't
assuage the little tattoo at all. He'd prickled his skin almost constantly the
first few days and then went obstinately silent, arms crossed and inky gaze
judgemental.
"But come on, we both know she's fine. And I'm going back. Eventually."
Mini-Maui twirls his hook over in his hand in a move that might be meant to be
menacing as he gives a flat stare.
"Okay, yeah, the exit could have used a bit of work," he allows, "But it isn't
like I ever said I was staying."
Mini-Maui taps his foot expectantly.
Maui groans and leans against the trunk of a nearby palm; he always hates this
part of living with a magic tattoo. The little guy can see and hear everything
and he's never shy about judging him for any of it.
"I should have left her on that island," he grumbles. Except the ocean had
taken care of that for him so really, he should have left her outside the Realm
of Monsters. Too innocent to get in? Great, back down to the boat she goes.
Or he should have not put in the effort to make it a good time for her; one
awkward, uncaring fuck would have been nothing for him to get over, and if she
didn't want him after the fact? Perfect.
But he had made it good- so much so that she wanted him again and again, which
is flattering but right now causing him far too many problems. Problems like
what he's going to do about the fact that he wants to spread his wings and
explore the changing world again as much as he wants to cuddle up to her on her
tiny island and make sure she doesn't get her stubborn self killed.
Maui twirls his fishhook in his hand, staring down at the spatters of monster
blood on the ground. He's definitely going back, but he might just check in and
leave again to assuage his runaway mind that she's alright for the time being.
At least, that's what he tells himself, attempting to deny the pull of hooks
set into his flesh.
"Think she'll be mad?"
He hates that his voice sounds uncertain even to his own ears. It shouldn't
matter what one scrawny mortal thinks of him- there's an entire ocean full of
others who would be happy to worship the ground he walks on- but it does, it
does so much.
Under his skin he feels the tattoo of Moana come to life, and it's still
disconcerting that she's able to do that without prompting but he appreciates
the little pat she gives him. Mini-Maui changes form to a hawk and makes a show
of flying away from his usual spot over to her, as if they aren't right next to
one another on his chest. And that is another thing he doesn't let himself
think about, where on his body she's made her mark.
Maui looks down at the two little figures as they hug and feels that same
panicky feeling that made him leave in the first place bubble back up in him,
except this time he knows that it's panic he's feeling and it's ridiculous to
panic over some mortal and her opinion like this.
"Hey, cut it out you two," he says, "No one asked for a show."
Mini-Maui sticks out his tongue while the tattoo Moana (does he have to come up
with a specific nickname for her? is her acting up like this going to be a
regular thing?) smiles widely before landing a showy kiss to Mini-Maui's
forehead.
Maui rolls his eyes; as if the real Moana is going to be so quick to forgive
him. Not that he's admitting there's really anything he might need forgiveness
for.
The tattoos go back to their proper positions and he tosses his hook in the
air, letting the magic transform him into a hawk when it lands back in his
palm.
***** Chapter 5 *****
It's only been another couple of weeks that he's been gone, so when Maui sneaks
up into the village as a beetle he very nearly drops out of the sky in shock to
see Moana with a belly that's swelling in a very telling way on her otherwise
normal frame. He buzzes a circle around her, trying to see from every angle
because there's no way she's pregnant, he must just be misjudging proportions
with his tiny beetle-eyes.
"Get down here," she demands as soon as he comes into view, her eyes somehow
unerringly tracking his flight even though he should look just like any other
bug in this form. The women who'd been walking with her stare at her in
confusion and Maui contemplates for just a split second running back away.
He instead transforms back with a flash of light, feet hitting the ground
heavily.
"You-!" Moana says, jabbing a finger out at him.
"You?" he replies, because what else can he say? Her stomach has a definite
curve to it that doesn't come from eating too many coconuts and he knows that
they've had sex and sex sometimes leads to babies but-
She reaches up and yanks on his ear. "You are not leaving again until we have a
discussion," she says. He nods, too dumbstruck to do much else, and when she
tugs at his earlobe he follows meekly.
He's never actually been inside her parent's house, he realizes as he's led to
a curtained-off section of the massive building that must be hers, if the
overwhelming ocean theme is anything to go by.
"How dare you run like that!" she says, giving his ear a sharp tug before
letting go so he can stand upright again.
"Are you...?" Maui asks with a vague gesture to her middle, unable to really
say it out loud. Because what if he's wrong and she really is just getting
chubby in a suspiciously specific way?
"Pregnant?" she says, folding her arms under her chest. "Yes."
"Is it mine?" he asks next. He couldn't even estimate the number of times
they've had sex in the few weeks he was with her, but he's held himself back
from coming inside of her every time... except the first, when he was so caught
up in the feeling of her after a thousand years of celibacy that it never even
crossed his mind. He doesn't think he's been gone so long that she's found
herself another lover to get this far along, but for that one single time to be
enough?
"Is it- of course it's yours," she says with a huff, as if the alternative is
ridiculous.
"Oh," he says. Some part of him wishes he'd never come back; if he didn't know
then would it still matter? He doesn't need to feel the tingle of ink under his
skin to know the answer is a resounding yes. This won't be the first time he's
a father but it is always, always a shock when it happens, and he hadn't
thought that it was going to be a real possibility here, not when he was being
so careful to avoid this very same outcome.
"You didn't know," she says, like she's testing out the answer.
He shakes his head mutely. If he'd known he never would have left, or he still
might have to clear his head, but he wouldn't have left that way, wouldn't have
made her think he was abandoning her and- his mind can't really believe it, not
yet- and their child.
His usual flippancy has entirely deserted him; he feels exposed, stripped down
to the squishy meat of his insides. "Do you want it? Are you okay?"
Moana looks from his face down to her belly; his eyes follow her gaze
helplessly, stuck on the curve of her flesh. There's a baby inside there, his
baby. Theirs.
"I don't know," she says, and her voice is far too honest, far too scared, far
too young. Her hands cup the swell that's growing over the top of her skirt.
It's still fairly small, still early. He wonders if it's even started kicking
yet. Her voice is firmer when she speaks again, colored with something like
anger. "And you leaving certainly didn't help. What the hell was that, Maui?"
"If you don't want it when it's born I'll raise it," Maui says quickly, because
just the thought of the alternative- that it's given up to the elements to do
with as they see fit- makes him sick to his core. It's hard raising a baby on
his own but he's done it before, would do it again in a heartbeat before he'd
abandon any kid of his.
"You know I wouldn't abandon it," she says, chin tilted up like she's
challenging him.
One of the knots in his gut loosens because no, he supposes she wouldn't, not
after learning what the tattoo that weighs heavily on his shoulders means. She
isn't cruel like that, to throw away his own child the same as he himself was
thrown away.
"Are you going to explain yourself?" Moana asks. "You literally jumped into the
air and flew away! I thought it was because you figured it out before me, but
you can't pull off fake-clueless well enough for that."
He can pull off whatever attitude he attempts, thanks very much. "I don't know
why," he says with a dull shake of his head, because trying to untangle any of
the things he'd been thinking and feeling before this turn of events is
impossible. "I shouldn't have left like that." He always hates apologizing but
he's got to. "I'm sorry."
"No, you really shouldn't have," she says, but her stance is softening. "If you
ever do something that again..." She doesn't finish her threat, but Maui gets
the point and nods his acceptance.
"So what do we do, Mo?" he asks. "Do you want me to leave you alone, just
saying goodbye properly this time?" Not that he'll be going very far if he
does, knowing what he knows now.
"No," she says immediately, "I don't want you to leave. I want..." She trails
off, ducking her head for a moment despite her bravado. "I want you to stay
with me. And raise our baby together. I know you're-" she waves a hand at him-
"a demigod and have better things to do, but I want you to stay." She looks up
at him through her eyelashes, hopeful.
It really isn't a hard decision; he might have panicked a bit earlier about her
and him and all the things he isn't acknowledging that make this different from
any other dalliance he's had, but that was before there was a baby in the
picture. If he wasn't going to stay for Moana- and it still scares him how much
this headstrong girl has gotten to him, and so quickly- there's no chance he
wouldn't stay for his kid.
"I can do that," Maui says. "I'll stay as long as you need me to."
And just like that it's settled, then. The earth under his feet has shifted
monumentally but he can do this, he can hunker down on this little island with
some mortals for a couple of decades. He's done it before, and so what if he'd
been looking forward to checking out all the changes a thousand years might
have brought to the world? It'll still be there in another few years.
 
He has to face Chief Tui and Sina next, of course. They're waiting for him when
he ducks back out of Moana's quarter, faces an interesting mix of stern and
exasperated. Not nearly as angry as he might have expected, considering, and he
wonders if Moana had a meddling hand in things.
"Maui," Tui says in a formal sort of voice.
"Chief Tui," he replies just as formally, and nods to Sina. "Chiefess Sina."
"Are we really doing this?" Moana asks from behind him, stepping out into the
main house again. "Mom, Dad, it's fine! I'm fine!"
"Moana, please," Tui says, holding up a hand. "Looking the other way while you
take a lover is one thing." His tone and expression seem to express a deep
desire to never have to think about his daughter having a lover ever again.
"But you know this can't be overlooked."
"I understand," Maui says. They don't seem like they're going to try and kill
him for tarnishing their daughter's honor- not that they could, but it's never
fun being chased out of town violently- which means he's guessing they want him
to marry her instead.
"I can't believe this," Moana mutters. Louder, she says, "Doesn't anyone care
what I want?"
Maui does, not that it really matters. For her parents it's less about whether
she'll be happy and more about making sure the heir she's carrying isn't a
bastard, that no one in the village has any excuse to wag their tongues. He's
already surprised that they let him have a relationship with her at all,
honestly- there's a big difference between some random person and the daughter
of the chief. But then again, he supposes the same holds true when dealing with
a demigod as opposed to some village brat.
"You've already shown us what you want quite clearly," Sina says drily, her
eyes flicking down to somewhere around the level of Moana's stomach, "And with
evidence to prove it."
Moana makes a sputtering sort of protest, though she can't really argue the
charge. He doesn't turn to check but he's sure her face is burning up with a
blush.
"You'll marry Moana," Tui says to him, confirming his assumption. "Of course,
we can't make any demands of a demigod..."
"Absolutely," Maui replies easily. He would have preferred if this was
something they'd talked about themselves, a decision reached because they both
want it, but it isn't as if he hasn't been married before, and to worse people
for worse reasons. "What day were you thinking?"
By the surprise in their eyes, he gets the feeling that Tui and Sina were
expecting more of a fight from him. And that stings, as if he doesn't have any
honor.
"Wait," Moana says, "You're okay with this?"
He turns to her finally, her arms relaxing from where she was holding them
folded under her chest. "Unless you'd rather do something melodramatic like run
away, yeah," Maui says. He shrugs, and softens his gaze. "I already said I'd
stay, what difference does it make if it's made official?"
One of her hands goes up to toy with the shell on her necklace. The pearls
there are interspersed with some of the carved beads from her birthday, one
catching the light and the other catching the shadows. "I guess I thought..."
He quirks up his lips, and she doesn't complete the thought.
"So, when did we want to do this?" Maui asks as he turns back to face Tui,
clapping his hands together in an attempt to dispel the awkward atmosphere. "I
don't exactly have anything suitable as a gift on me at the moment, but I'm
sure I can scrounge something up if you're willing to wait a bit."
"We don't need any gifts," Moana says at the same time as her father says, "I
trust a week is enough time?"
They turn to stare each other down, and Moana might resemble her mother more in
features but wow, he sees now where she gets the stubbornness from.
"There are customs to follow," Tui says.
"Who cares?" she replies, "I don't, and I know you don't actually care about
putting on a show, getting things."
"It's more than that," he says. "Need I remind you that as chief you set the
example for our people?"
"Oh yes, I'm sure they're all going to go sail across the ocean to get pregnant
by a demigod now!"
Maui catches Sina's eye; she's saying nothing, looking between her husband and
her daughter with a weary but fond expression that suggests she's no stranger
to such arguments. "So should I plan on gathering up stuff, do you think?" he
asks
She sighs a little. "I think Moana's going to win this one," she says, "But her
father has a point."
He nods; it makes sense, and it isn't as if he's unwilling to provide things
for her, her family. Even though really, he's the one marrying in, rather than
her joining his family. His nonexistent family, and thanks for that mental
reminder.
"Sounds fair enough," Maui says. He doesn't exactly have a store of fabrics or
anything, no sparkly treasure- unless he wants to go rob Tamatoa and hey, maybe
that would be a good present: his glittery shell cleaned out and brought up for
display. Then he considers the potential smell and wrinkles his nose. Maybe
not.
The sounds of Moana and Tui's squabble die down, the two apparently having
reached some sort of agreement. She's looking smug and he's subdued, so it's no
surprise when she turns to him and says, "We don't need you to give us anything
for the wedding."
"Too bad," Maui sing-songs, relishing the way she blinks in confusion. "You
didn't ask what I wanted to do."
Her confusion turns to a scowl. "Fine, whatever."
He grins at her and would do something like putting an arm around her or
kissing her pouting lips except he's incredibly aware of her parents watching
them as well as the fact that, despite the way she's carrying his child and
he's just agreed to marry her, he has no idea what their relationship is now.
"Gimme a week, Curly," he says, "I'll knock your socks off."
 

When it's nighttime Maui's shown back to the great hall same as the last time
he was visiting, and now that he's finally alone he shuts his eyes and wonders
what the fuck he's going to do.
Moana wasn't supposed to get pregnant, not by him and not so soon, so young.
She was supposed to send out boats and voyage to new islands, have adventures.
Not that having a baby means she can't- but he isn't going to kid himself by
saying it'll be anywhere as easy as it should have been. Would have been, if
only he'd tossed her off the peak when Lalotai's gate wouldn't open for her.
"I fucked up," he whines to Mini-Maui. The tattoo's slumped over with his own
head in his hands, just as concerned.
It's the tattoo of Moana that pats him, which continues to be alarming because
she isn't supposed to be so active on her own, she's supposed to be like all
the others. But the feeling of a tiny magical-ink hand against his skin is,
sadly, comforting all the same. At least this version of Moana seems to be
wholly on his side.
It isn't the fact that he's having a kid- he's had kids before, and none of
them compare to any of the others but at the same time, he knows how that story
goes. Nor is it getting married to her- he's been married before, and it isn't
really a hardship to pledge to be in a relationship with only her for the time
being.
Sure, on some level he's annoyed that he can't in good conscience go out and
have a fling or two now, but look how well that had gone at that last island
anyway. Maui doesn't want a fling, doesn't want to give Moana up for some
stranger.
No, at least part of it is- for the time being. She's mortal, he isn't. The
marriage will end when she dies and eventually their kid will die, and their
grandkids, and somewhere along the line he won't be able to find anyone who
even remembers her or actually knows whether they're related to him or not
because humans are as numerous and as short-lived as flowers.
In some ways it's good that this happened so early. On his own he'd fly here
and there as chance dictated and could easily lose track of time enough to find
her grown older by years, not weeks. With a baby in the picture he'll be biting
his nails every time he's away more than a few days, won't want to miss out on
much of either of their lives, and the earlier it starts the longer he'll get
to be with her. And the fact that it's him who gets to be her husband, to
father her child... he would have accepted whatever man she married, wouldn't
have said a word against it, but he's glad he got here early enough for it to
be him. It's selfish, but it's true.
Maui digs the heel of one of his hands into his chest, careful not to squish
the little Moana who's still active, Mini-Maui tugged over to sit on her little
boat with her.
Everything's too fast, too much. He came back here willing to admit that he's
attached to Moana, that she gets under his skin in a way very few have managed,
but he never expected to need to do anything to actually confront any of it.
And now here he is, a week away from marrying her and four, five months away
from holding their child for the first time.
He forces himself to take a deep breath. It's happened, it's happening. He
isn't going to run away from her (doesn't think he could even if he wanted to
try) and he can't change anything about their situation. Dwelling on things is
just going to make him feel knotted up inside and itchy, so he shoves
everything aside and mentally maps out the islands nearby, wondering where he
can find enough things of enough quality to present to her and her family.
He falls asleep doing a mental tally of what he wants to trade for, what's
going to convince her parents he can be worthy of their daughter.
 

Maui leaves bright and early the next morning, making sure to give Moana and
her parents a proper farewell so she doesn't think he's skipping town- it
shocks him that he honestly considers leaving his hook behind as collateral,
except that he needs it to transform in order to get anywhere fast enough under
his week deadline.
When he's moving with purpose he can fly far faster than any canoe can sail, or
he can slip down into the water and navigate that way. It takes two days to get
to an island with a large enough population to be worth trading with, and it
takes his reputation plus some carefully-choreographed illusions plus an entire
flipping whale plus playing the two villages on the island against each other
to finally get the good stuff. Moana might not care what he comes up with, but
he has no plans to short-change her if he can help it.
Carrying the haul away with him means he can't swim this time, everything
carefully bundled up with rougher mats and slung into a net for him to carry in
hawk talons, but even struggling with the weight of it and making a pit-stop to
dive for the largest pearl he can find, he makes it back to Motunui before his
week is up.
Her parents are suitably impressed, as is the rest of the village, and he buffs
his nails at a job well done. Moana herself smiles and shakes her head a little
in amusement, and he realizes that on top of all this wealth he really wants to
include a present that she wants, something that's more than just fine tapa and
sturdy fishhooks and delicately carved bowls.
He doesn't have much time, is the problem. The wedding is the day after next-
they apparently have a cute ceremony involving a bowl of kava; he's looking
forward to it- and his ideas can pretty much be summed up as 'but would would
it be in time,' and 'but would she actually like it?' Mini-Maui is entirely
unhelpful, what a surprise, but the little Moana doesn't seem to have much in
the way of ideas either.
Maui works on it the entire day and into the night, and finally hits on a
fabulous idea mostly because he's out restlessly kicking bushes in the dark
when he catches a whiff of a familiar floral scent on the breeze.
The clearing Moana had led him to that second first time is easy to find, and
just as deserted as it was then. He strokes a finger over the leaves of one of
the flowering night-blooming plants, more fragrance swirling out into the air.
Then he plunges his hands into the dirt around the base of it and starts
digging out its roots, being careful to not damage them.
When it's free he carries it back through the village towards the beach,
picking up an empty basket along the way to hold the clump of roots-and-dirt.
There's one of the elders walking around and they give Maui a suspicious look,
but it isn't as if what he's doing is wrong. He waves cheerfully as he passes.
He stops in the great hall long enough to grab his fishhook, then continues
down to the seashore.
The ocean doesn't like him near as much as it does Moana, but he and it go way
back. Also, common interest: making Moana happy.
"It'd be cool if you want to help," he says out loud to the dark water when
he's fairly certain he's far enough away from the village to not be making a
nuisance of himself. There doesn't seem to be any response but hey, just being
this close to it is going to give him a boost.
Maui sets the bush-in-a-basket down carefully on the sand and then sets his
hook down besides it. He hears an out of rhythm splashing noise and looks over;
the ocean has curled up a wave like it wants a better look despite not having
eyes anyway, neither helping nor hindering so far.
"I'm gonna make them bloom all the time for her," he explains.
The ocean tilts its- well he can't say it's a head- the top section of its
tendril as if inquisitive or perhaps confused. He rolls his eyes a little and
decides not to count on it for help.
He puts his hands on the stem before closing his eyes as he concentrates,
feeling how the energy of the plant flows with only mild confusion- it doesn't
yet realize that it's been uprooted. Even with the entire plant, rather than
just a plucked blossom, this should be fairly easy to accomplish because he has
his hook actually in hand rather than down below the cliff, and the boost from
the ocean besides.
Except he doesn't just want the flowers to stay open for a while, to wither
eventually like the first had. He wants to make it so the plant never closes
entirely, never dies. Well, maybe dies eventually- he doesn't think there's any
way to make things truly immortal without an actual god stepping in- but not
anytime soon.
He lets the pulses of magic and energy go back and forth between him, hook
glowing blue at his side. The ocean is a huge pool of energy, vast and
seemingly endless; he extends a proverbial hand to it and feels actual water
splash against the sand at his feet in answer.
With the ocean's help it doesn't take long for him to feel that same crackle of
energy as before, a blue-white glow beneath his eyelids. Maui grins and opens
his eyes, then with a shout launches into a dance that he's hoping is going to
direct the energy the way he wants it to.
The magic gets stronger and stronger as he moves, bouncing around the shore and
chanting encouragement to the bush, the flowers glowing like little stars now.
He might burn it out by doing too much, but he's hoping the cold deep energy of
the ocean is going to keep things from getting too out of hand.
Maui couldn't say precisely how he knows that it's worked, but when he senses
the energy of the plant shift to a different rhythm that just feels right he
gives a triumphant shout, winding down the dancing so as not to shock the plant
unnecessarily by cutting off all at once. He's breathing heavily as he comes to
a stop, the glow of magic fading away.
The plant looks exactly the same, except for the way that the white petals of
the flowers have delicate moonlight-blue etchings on them, designs that are
reminiscent of the ones on his remade fishhook. He won't actually know if it's
worked entirely as he meant it to for a while, of course, but he has a good
feeling about it.
"Thanks for the help," he says to the ocean. "Solid assist." It sends an
almost-playful wave splashing at him, careful to avoid the shrub's delicate
roots.
If getting a single flower to stay blooming guaranteed him a good night's
sleep, fixing up the entire plant should send him toppling over as soon as he
starts moving again. But maybe the ocean helped a little more than it let on
because he makes it all the way back to bed, plant safely stowed with some
fresh water to sip at, before the exertion catches up with him.
***** Chapter 6 *****
"It's not that I don't appreciate it," Moana tells him as he plants the plant
by the entrance of what's going to be their house, apparently. The flowers
stayed open all day just like he wanted, and show no signs of closing up now.
"But you know those aren't even my favorite flowers, right?"
He turns to stare flatly at her. The wedding was an unnecessarily long affair
that he feels was misleadingly explained to him, he's still exhausted from the
magic required to get this gift to her, the tapa of his fancy skirt is
inexplicably itchy in the weirdest ways- and she's telling him this now?
"I mean, favorites? Who has favorite flowers! That's just silly," she says,
babbling as she tries to backtrack over what she just said.
Maui pats the dirt down carefully around the bush and then stands back up.
She's looking at him apprehensively, and so with as much seriousness as he can
muster he looms over her, just long enough for her to feel nervous. Then he
takes his muddy fingers and bops them against the tip of her nose, leaving a
dot of dirt on her skin.
She wrinkles her face up, apprehension sliding away in favor of exasperation,
and pushes her hands flat against his chest to push him away.
"If you get my outfit muddy I'll bury you next to that bush," Moana says.
He grins toothily at her and reaches out his hands as if he might grab for her,
but she slips right underneath his arms into safe space beyond his reach.
Instead of pursuing her he brushes off as much dirt as he can, until his hands
are clean enough again. He'll actually wash them up once he's inside, but he
thinks the both of them are delaying that for now.
They couldn't move into the great hall where he'd stayed as a guest, of course,
and neither could they live in her parent's house now that they're starting
their own family. Well, actually- her parents had offered to be the ones to
move out and Moana had insisted that they stay where they are, in the grander
of the buildings on the family compound.
He doesn't really mind which building he stays in one way or the other, but it
feels different knowing that she isn't just sneaking in to see him but that
they're going to be living together. He doesn't remember the last time he
stayed in one place long enough to have earned himself an actual family house.
She sits on the edge of the platform with him, looking out onto the hardpacked
road that runs through the village. He's going to be seeing a lot more of this
place than he'd planned on and it's scary and stifling, but he's committed now.
Maui casually slings an arm around her shoulders and she leans in against him;
knowing that he's sticking around for her helps.
He can't help but spare a second to think about the fling he'd had while
running scared, and what if they had ended up pregnant instead of Moana. He
doesn't think he'd be anywhere near so okay with settling down this soon after
being freed from exile in that case. He wouldn't have abandoned them, of
course, but he doesn't know that he'd be willing to agree to really stay like
he's doing here.
Finally, both the thickening darkness and the cheerful and good-natured
heckling of passers-by drives them inside, and they start unrolling the screens
for a bit more privacy. One of them opens to reveal a rather unflattering
portrait of himself and Maui raises an eyebrow at it.
"This place was my grandmother's," she tells him when she catches his look.
"She... wasn't your biggest fan," Moana continues apologetically, though her
hand traces the angry lines of his painted scowl with care. "I wish she could
have actually met you. You'd have either gotten along perfectly or fought tooth
and nail." The smile on her face is reserved, sad.
"Tell me about her?" he asks, because he knows that they were close, and that
her grandmother encouraged her to search him out to return Te Fiti's heart in
the first place, but he doesn't really know all that much about Tala as a
person.
She shakes her head, hand falling away from the screen. "Not today."
In the silence of this new-old space, with these new twists in their
relationship they're awkward around one another, unsure in a way he doesn't
think they've ever been.
Maui can easily admit that initially he'd planned to come back and pick up
pretty much where he left; fucking around, enjoying her little island for a
while and leaving (albeit less abruptly) when the urge struck. But now she's
pregnant with a baby- his baby- and they're married, sure, but that doesn't
mean anything more than that propriety demanded it of them. They haven't spent
any time alone together since he came back and found out, and he doesn't know
that she actually still wants him the way they'd been before. Doesn't know if
she isn't really angry at him, despite her seemingly calm demeanor.
"Do you want me to set up my own bed?" he asks. There are plenty of mats to
divide between the two of them- perk of being a demigod and beloved daughter-
of-the-chief; people treat them well- and the house might be small but it's
large enough for them to throw up some curtains and have separate spaces if
they want. If she wants. He's fine cozying up to her still.
"Do you want to set up your own bed?" she says, brow wrinkling in confusion.
"Not really," he says. "But I thought I'd give you the option."
"You needn't have bothered," Moana says. Her expression clears, and she regards
the pile of waiting mats before turning back to look at him, more unsure than
shy. "Can I still kiss you?"
He'd be lying if he says he isn't a bit surprised by the fact that she still
wants him. It's not like they planned on having a kid together and he's been
tossed out over less; being a hero of men- mankind, people, whatever- doesn't
make him immune to the vagaries of human passion.
"Yeah," he replies. Neither makes any move for a long few seconds, until Maui
steps in closer and puts a hand on her shoulder. Plenty platonic if she wants
to back out.
She doesn't, head tilting up and hand reaching for the back of his neck. He
lets her pull him down into a kiss, and there's some heat in it but mostly it's
the sort of tender emotional meeting that spooked him in the first place,
partly because of how it was decidedly not one-sided.
"I'm glad you came back," Moana murmurs against his lips. It's only somewhat
terrifying to hear this time, knowing more about what she means underneath the
words.
"Me too," he agrees. If time had gotten away from him and he returned later-
years can pass in the blink of an eye when there's so much ocean to explore-
he'd forgive himself, but it would be hard knowing that she'd had his kid on
her own, that he wasn't there from the start. He doesn't know if she would
forgive him and that's a much harder thought to chew on.
She opens her mouth to say something else but yawns instead, wide enough that
he can hear the joint of her jaw crack.
"Bedtime for prin- daughters of the chief," Maui says. It's not terribly late
but if he's honest he needs the break, needs some time to lay in the dark and
process everything that had happened today as well as sleep off the lingering
magic hangover from the night before. It's traditional to consummate the
marriage as soon as possible, but he thinks no one's going to question the
validity of their union.
"I don't have a bedtime," she replies, rocking up to her tip-toes to keep hold
of him.
"Bedtime for demigod heroes, then," he says. "Sleep is essential to heroing,
you know."
Moana pouts, and then flails a little when he lifts her off her feet. "Hey, put
me down!"
"Once upon a time mortals thought the gods would carry them off if they took a
fancy to them," he tells her as he walks the short distance to the bed.
"Fascinating," she says drily once she's placed on the mats. She could get back
up if she wanted to but she obligingly stays put.
"I have no idea why," he says, "Keeping a pet human is far more work than it's
made up to be. You need to eat all the time, and be helped from dangerous
situations, and every night you need sleep." The last he says with a pointed
look in her direction; she returns it with an unimpressed expression.
Maui douses the lamp and shucks his skirt, keeping his loincloth on because he
really does want them to sleep. Then he crawls in alongside her and pulls a
blanket over them while she shifts around restlessly, loosening and removing
her own clothing. When she's bare to her satisfaction he wraps an arm around
her middle and pulls her close to himself, her belly a new curve where it
presses against his own stomach.
"Has it started moving yet?"
She shakes her head. "Not yet. My mom says it probably won't be much longer."
He lets out a noise of acknowledgement and tries to figure out how long exactly
it's been.
Moana's quiet for a while and then says, her gaze fixed at a spot far below his
face, "Are you mad?"
It takes him a moment to wrap his brain around what she's saying. "Mad? Of
course not," he says. "It's mostly my fault, anyway. Should have chucked you
over the side instead of despoiling you for Lalotai."
"I'm glad you did," she says, and snuggles herself up against him with a quiet
sigh, her arm curling around his chest as her eyes close.
Maui nuzzles his nose against the top of her head, and imagines if he hadn't.
He can't say he's happy about her being pregnant so soon, but all the same,
without the need to get her into Lalotai would he have approached her at all?
Would he have accepted any advance she made towards him?
Holding her in his arms now it's hard to imagine the answer being 'no' but but
he thinks about the things that had prompted him to run, and how without
getting the necessary push those things might have overwhelmed any desire he
had for her. Might have left him clear-headed enough to know that he'd be
getting in too deep, before it became too late.
But it's done now and even though none of that's changed, even though now he
has a whole host of new concerns squirming around inside of him- even with all
that he can't exactly bring himself to regret it, either.
"Yeah, me too," he says quietly to the top of her head, but she's already
asleep.
 

He wakes up with her still in his arms but now Moana's snugged up against his
groin, ass grinding against his growing erection. Her hair's in his mouth a
little.
"Morning," he croaks, and she hums in answer.
"Now that you're back you can help me," she says, clearly far more awake than
he is.
"With what?" Maui asks, brain still a bit fuzzy with sleep and the last
lingering effects of the magic he did. He has a feeling he knows where she's
going with this, if the fact that she's fondling her bare breasts with one hand
while rocking her hips against the other is any indication.
"I've been lonely without you," she says. "No one else touches me like you do."
"They'd better not," he says, all caught up with her train of thought now. He
slides his hand down below her stomach to the thatch of hair between her legs,
and her own fingers moving restlessly just beyond.
"Before I knew I was pregnant I tried with one of the village boys," Moana
says. "You left and I was so angry-"
He hadn't really thought she was serious and hearing it makes something ugly
turn over low in his stomach. He hates the thought of someone else's hands on
her, someone else seeing her like this, naked and flushed, so eager to feel
their mouth and fingers. He also hates the reminder that he's made her angry,
though she doesn't sound anything more than irritated now.
"They weren't enough, were they?" he asks, unable to help the jealousy tugging
out the words.
His fingers displace her own as he slides them along the cleft of her pussy,
teasing at her slick folds without ever actually brushing her clit. Maui of
course likes when she talks about how good he's being but now he feels like he
needs to hear it, needs to be reassured. They may be married and pregnant now,
but that means nothing if she isn't satisfied properly.
She shakes her head with a wordless noise. "He wasn't you," she says, "He
couldn't make me feel the way you do."
He doesn't really want to hear about what they did together, her and this
unworthy villager, probably some young pup who's barely touched a woman before
let alone someone like Moana who deserves everything- but at the same time he
needs to know. Needs to know where he has to cover up the memory of someone
else's touches.
"Did he touch you here?"
He circles the little nub of her clit and then slides his fingers down to her
entrance.
"His fingers were all wrong," Moana says. "And he didn't want to use his mouth
and I just-" She breaks off with a hitched breath as he rubs her clit
deliberately, his mouth sucking a kiss to the side of her neck. He has to
resist the urge to do something possessive and ridiculous- bury his teeth into
her shoulder, squeeze bruises on her hips. Tattoo himself across her skin.
It's complete and utter hypocrisy of course that he's feeling so selfish, so
jealous, because he'd gone out and done the same thing: found someone willing
and tried to forget her in their embrace. But he's okay with being
hypocritical.
"Did he fuck you?" Maui asks, rubbing his hard cock up against the crease of
her ass. He doesn't want to know the answer, but oh does he need to.
She makes a noise like a reluctant whine. "He wasn't you," she says, "You left
and I was angry and alone, and he wasn't right at all."
Which sounds very much like a 'yes' to his ears. He gives in to the urge to be
just a little bit rough, nips at her skin with his teeth to leave a mark
because it's his child in her womb, it's him she really wants, and he's going
to make sure that whatever upstart village boy it was that touched her knows
it.
He slides a finger inside of her, mindful of the fact that it's been a few
weeks. He'll need to be careful opening her up again, can't imagine one pitiful
fuck with some reed-dicked boy being enough to keep her in shape to take him
easily. It's a temptation to be rough here too, but he doesn't want to do
anything like punishing her- he wants to make it so good she'll never think of
looking anywhere else but him.
Moana rocks against his hand, palm rubbing her clit while he presses one
finger, two, inside her cunt. She squeezes down against even his fingers like
she's desperate for the feeling, quiet little noises falling from her lips.
"I'm gonna take care of you," he tells her as he curls his fingers up inside of
her. "Know what you need."
"Please," she says, and her voice is too plaintive for him to do anything but
obey the unspoken request.
Maui slips a third finger inside of her while he twists his hand so he can
stroke her clit with his thumb, more concentrated than just rubbing with his
palm. "You're not going to want to even look at anyone else," he promises,
"Just me."
She comes with a jerk of her hips and a muffled cry, cunt spasming against his
fingers. "I want you inside me," she says while she's still panting through the
aftershocks, "Missed it so much."
"I can do that," he replies, and slips his hand away. He licks his fingers
clean- he's missed even this, the taste of her- and then shoves his loincloth
down, kicking it off entirely. It's a relief to have his cock free and he ruts
against the swell of her ass for a moment, reveling in the drag of skin-on-
skin.
"Maui," she complains, twisting herself enough to look over her shoulder at
him.
"So impatient," he says fondly. He takes hold of her leg and she obligingly
lifts it, lets him slot himself up between her thighs with only some
awkwardness. Then he's taking his cock in hand to line up, and he has to close
his eyes as he groans helplessly because even after being opened up she's
almost too tight around him, almost stretched too far.
Moana lets out a sighing moan as he slides deeper inside of her, hampered by
the position somewhat. He wraps his arm around her middle, holding her just
above the bump where their baby lives, and she grabs onto him in return as he
starts moving.
It's bliss; he doesn't know how he thought he could live without this, how he
could have thought that some other random fuck could possibly compare. Maui
rolls his hips up against her and buries his face in her hair, scented like the
flowers from yesterday and always, always, the salt of the ocean.
"Like that," she says, rocking back into every thrust, "Just like that." She
sounds breathless, and moves one of her hands off his forearm to touch herself
instead. He can feel her fingers against his cock as he fucks into her and it
makes him groan, makes him want to speed up.
"Are you going to come for me?" he asks, "Come for me like you didn't for that
boy?"
Moana lets out a breathy moan and doesn't say no.
"C'mon, wanna hear you," he says, "Are you going to, Mo? Gonna come for me?"
She keeps moving with him and he kisses her neck, pushes his cock inside of her
in as steady a rhythm as he can manage. Then she's tensing, and with a series
of quiet little exclamations to match his movements he feels her pussy ripple
around him as she comes, hand digging fingernails into his forearm where she's
clutching it.
"That's it," Maui croons, a swell of pride in his chest, "That's what you
needed."
"You're incorrigible," she says when she's recovered, as if she wasn't just
moments ago telling him how much she wanted him. He nips at her skin lightly
again, only just enough for her to feel the press of teeth this time. For that
he's going to make sure she comes a third time on his cock, maybe a fourth. He
likes the thought of her chanting his name for everyone to hear the morning
after their wedding.
 

Moana steadfastly refuses to say which of the boys in the village it was she
slept with, and he doesn't really think he needs to worry about her running off
with them now, but he keeps his eye out anyway. It wouldn't be the first time
he thought he was enough and got proven wrong.
She catches him looking, of course, and rolls her eyes at him. "I have better
standards that that," she tells him after following his line of sight to a guy
he really does hope she loves herself too much to want to get with.
"Just figuring out what my competition is," Maui says, mostly teasing.
"There is no competition," she says, and leans on his arm to get enough height
to kiss his cheek. "I'm a married woman now, remember?"
They're words that send a little glimmer of happiness through him, as does the
reassurance that she doesn't plan to start sneaking around on him. "Should you
be hitting on me like this, then?" he says, wrapping her up in a hug before she
gets too far away. "What will your husband say if he sees us?"
"I have it on good authority that he wouldn't mind," Moana says. She kisses him
sweetly, one hand on his cheek while he holds her close. Then she ruins his
newly-formed plans to coax her back home or else into the nearest semi-private
nook by saying, "I, on the other hand, have places to be."
"A likely excuse," he says with disappointment, releasing her all the same. As
much as he wants to keep her all to himself, especially now that she's in a
'delicate condition', he really doesn't want to sit through all the boring
chiefly stuff she does. And if whichever boy it was who touched her before gets
any ideas to try it again, well... his baby's in her belly, his teeth left a
red mark on the side of her neck, and he'd realized that there wasn't any
reason to hold back from coming inside of her anymore. His claim's been staked
about as thoroughly as it possibly can be.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Notes
     I've taken a slight liberty with the design of Maui's tattoos, no
     offense meant by it.
Generally speaking, Maui likes kids. They're cute, they're easy to impress, and
most of the time he can hand them over to someone else if they start getting
annoying.
So it really isn't anything unusual for him to find himself telling stories to
an enthralled group of them, except now he's thinking about how he's going to
have his own again, and thinking about all the ways that's different from just
entertaining someone else's, and okay he's mostly thinking about how this helps
him brush up on his skills before the kid he really cares about gets here.
"So there I was," he says, throwing his arms out wide. Apparently their last
most-regular storyteller used painted illustrations. Amateur. The ink on his
skin obligingly shifts as he tells the story, doing a far better job than any
static tapa could. "I could see the fire I was gonna steal for you mortals, but
I still couldn't get my hands on it because- hey, Mo!"
Moana smiles at him, a basket of flowers in her hand. "Go on and tell your
story," she says, the kids sprawled around him looking between the paused image
on his stomach to her and back. She sits down next to him and he gives her a
loose one-armed hug around her middle, aware of the young impressionable eyes
on them.
"Can I play with your hair?" she asks, setting the basket down at her side.
"Of course," he says easily, shaking his head so it falls across his back. As
long as she doesn't try to do anything crazy like tie it into knots or weave it
together, he trusts her to do justice to it.
She shuffles closer and he turns back to the expectant kids. "Where was I?" he
asks, though he knows exactly where he'd left off in the story.
The kids chorus out a few different answers and he pretends he has no idea what
they're talking about, Mini-Maui going along with the ruse. It takes a few
back-and-forths before he 'remembers' just before they start getting actually
impatient, and he restarts the story.
All the time he can feel Moana moving behind him, her hands combing gently
through his hair- as if he'd ever have a tangle- and braiding sections of it.
It's not really his usual style, especially not when he feels her adding
flowers from that basket of hers, but he doesn't mind.
She laughs under her breath a few times as he speaks, catching his
embellishments from when he'd told her the story, but she never once
contradicts him.
By the time he's done also telling the story of how he gave them the tides, the
children have been sitting too still for too long to be anything but restless,
and he's pretty sure there isn't a single strand of hair on his head that
hasn't been fiddled with. Maui dismisses the kids and they run off, shrieking
and laughing as they reenact the stories they'd heard amongst themselves.
He turns around and snags Moana's waist, drawing her into his lap. She giggles
but doesn't fight, letting one last half-finished braid slip through her
fingers.
"Do I look enough like a flower bush to satisfy you?" he asks.
"Not quite," she says, smiling unrepentantly. "I still have some more flowers
left."
"Hmm," Maui hums, "I can think of a few solutions for that problem."
She stays willingly in his lap so he fishes around for the basket, plucking a
flower from it to inspect. He turns it this way and that while he pretends to
concentrate very hard on evaluating what he's seeing, before finally nodding.
"It'll do," he says, and carefully tucks it behind her ear.
"You could do the rest," Moana says, squirming around so she's leaning back
against his chest, and how could he refuse an offer like that?
Her hair isn't quite as luxurious as his- what mortal could hope to achieve
such perfection?- but it's still nice, soft and curly and good for weaving
flowers into.
"You're good with those kids," she says.
Maui shrugs modestly. "They're just small people," he says, as if there really
isn't any effort that goes into making sure he's telling stories and such in a
way they'll follow and not have nightmares about after.
"Still," she says, "Not everyone is."
Her hands are resting on her stomach as she says this, of course, and he
nuzzles his face against the side of her head he hasn't been adding flowers to
yet.
"I'm good at everything," he tells Moana in a confidential whisper, and grins
at the fondly exasperated huff he gets in return.
 

Moana spends a day being quiet, and he finally gets looped in on why when
they're back in bed and she looks down at her stomach with a forlorn
expression. "I look like I swallowed an entire coconut," she says, her hands
curved around the sides like she's measuring the bump there.
He tilts his head and considers her. A husked coconut, maybe; they've still got
a few weeks to go before her stomach starts getting truly unreasonable, thinks.
"Maybe it's a Kakamora in there," Maui says.
She glares and takes her hands off her belly to swat at his arm. "I'm going to
have nightmares about that now, thanks."
"You're welcome," he says with a smarmy grin, and then before she calls him on
it adds, "Guess I'd better make sure you're too tired out to dream, then."
"That's the least you can do," Moana agrees, and moves so she's sitting in his
lap, hands on his shoulders. He can still fit a great deal of her waist in his
hands, and demonstrates this to her.
He kisses her and lets his touch roam everywhere but where she really wants him
to until she's making urgent noises against his mouth. When he thinks he's
worked her up enough he keeps her pressed up close with a hand on her lower
back while his other hand snakes down between them, until he can feel the soft
skin of her thighs. She rolls her hips into the touch so enthusiastically his
fingers rub against the slick heat of her.
"You don't look like you swallowed a coconut," Maui tells her as he swipes his
fingers through her folds more deliberately, earning himself a gasp while he
spreads wetness up to her clit.
"Mhm?"
"You look beautiful," he says, "Like you're carrying my baby."
"Better," Moana says, and then attaches her mouth to the beating pulse in his
neck so he's the one inhaling sharply.
He growls at her and twists his hand until his palm is pressed up against her
clit and his fingers are resting just at her entrance, a light touch. She let
out an impatient grunt and rolls her hips forward against him, and he thinks
about just teasing her but decides he'd rather see how many times he can get
her to fall apart for him.
Maui fucks her with his fingers and then his cock and then his tongue, until
she's wrung out and nearly sobbing, unable to come even once more.
When she finally says she's had enough and the lantern's been extinguished he
curls around her, hand resting on her stomach to cover the swell there. "Sweet
dreams, coconut."
She jabs her elbow back into his side with an affronted huff and he grins in
the dark.
 

Sina asks if he's seen Moana, and he has to shake his head.
"Not since this morning," Maui says. "She in trouble?"
She gives him an amused look and he can see the family resemblance loud and
clear here, their features and attitudes echoing one another's. "No trouble,"
Sina says, "But if you see her, tell her I was looking, okay?"
"Sure thing," he replies easily.
She gives his arm a pat and continues on her way, leaving Maui to ponder the
question of where he has seen Moana last. She'd gotten up early, slipping away
before the sun was halfway up. And then he didn't see her at breakfast or when
the fishing boats were launching, and now it's past noon and he has no idea
where she might be.
He glances down at Mini-Maui and then the tattoo of Moana but neither offers
any clue. "Huh."
It's not really unusual for them to spend time apart, but it's a small enough
village that usually someone knows where you've gone, whether you want them to
or not. That her mother can't find her suggests Moana doesn't want to be found,
and that she didn't tell him... well, that suggests he should probably go see
what's bothering her before he makes it worse.
Maui saunters through the village- he wasn't doing any actual chores anyway-
making small talk and getting the feeling that no one else has seen Moana since
daybreak either. The canoes are all accounted for and he doubts even she would
get very far swimming, so he shapeshifts into a hawk and flies around the
island, seeing if he can spot her from this high vantage.
He finally finds here at the very top of the highest peak, back pressed to a
stack of mossy stones and knees draw up as close to her chest as her belly
allows. She looks up at him as he hovers and doesn't shoo him away so he
transforms back, landing on the ground as lightly as someone of his stature
can.
"Nice view up here," he says, though he doesn't think she's sightseeing.
Moana rolls her head to focus her gaze back at the horizon instead of at him.
There's a crown of flowers crumpled on the ground at her side, a delicately
pink-and-yellow conch shell near her toes.
"Mind if I sit?" he asks.
She shrugs a shoulder and he folds himself down next to her, close enough to
brush arms.
"My dad was saying how much he's looking forward to being a granddad," she says
after a minute of silence.
"And that's... bad?" Maui hazards a guess.
"He's only going to be a grandfather because I'm going to be a mother," she
says.
Ah. "You don't have to be, you know," he tells her. "I meant what I said about
raising it myself." He wants to raise their kid with her, but he isn't going to
force her into it. As if he could force her into anything, anyway.
"No," Moana says, "I want it, I think. I just- The baby started moving a while
ago, did I tell you?" Her hand splays out over the curve of her stomach.
"There's a baby inside of me. Living. Growing."
He doesn't know how to handle this conversation, isn't entirely sure he knows
what it's about to begin with and it isn't like he's ever been the most adept
at emotional stuff. Maui stretches out a leg so he nearly brushes toes with the
conch shell. "So you're upset because you're pregnant?"
She hadn't seemed to be before, but she could have just been hiding it. Except
she said she wants to keep it, so he's lost.
She huffs a sigh. "I don't want to be pregnant right now," she says. "I want
kids, always knew I'd have them, but that was supposed to be in a few years."
Moana uncurls enough to grab at the conch shell; he nudges it closer to her
reaching fingers. "I'm not even the chief yet, I haven't added my stone," she
says, only half of that statement making immediate sense to him. "How can I be
responsible for a baby?"
"Okay, first," he says, "People have kids all the time without being chief.
It's actually probably a good thing to stagger those responsibilities.
Secondly... I'm sorry." Apologies continue to suck. Had he actually apologized
for knocking her up before? No, because she'd seemed more-or-less okay with it
from the beginning. "I shouldn't have put you in this position to begin with."
She starts making a noise in protest and Maui holds up a quelling hand. "No,
that's on me. But it's happened and now I want to help you with this all, okay?
And if that means raising our kid myself because you're just a kid yourself,
that's what I'll do."
"I'm not a kid," she says like it's a reflex, then takes a breath. "I don't
want you to raise them by yourself. I want them, I just... I'm just scared."
Moana lets out a puff of laughter. "Crab demon? Fine. Lava monster? No problem.
Human babies? Woah there."
He puts his hand on her shoulder. "It's a scary thing," he says, "I'm terrified
about it myself! Babies are tiny, and fragile, and they can't even tell you
what's wrong. And have you ever felt how soft a baby's head is? It's like it's
asking the universe to poke it." She tilts her head up to look at him,
expression disbelieving like she thinks he's just humoring her. He slides his
hand over so his entire arm's draped over her in what he hopes is a reassuring
embrace. "But we can figure this out together. I've still got your back, Moana.
Promise."
She doesn't look very reassured at all, but she relaxes her stance a bit more,
leaning into his side a little.
"Also, I think you're giving that bottom feeder way too much credit by calling
him a demon," Maui adds. It earns him a reluctant little puff of laughter. "I'm
serious! He barely deserves the title 'monster'. He's an overgrown appetizer,
that's all."
"That 'overgrown appetizer' nearly ate you," she points out.
"But he didn't, and that's the important part," he says with an affected sniff.
Moana looks like she's smiling despite herself, hands turning the conch shell
over and over. "We can still do stuff like that, right?" she asks, meeting his
eyes finally. "Not necessarily the monster stuff, but we can go sailing-
wayfinding- together, even though I'll have a kid?"
"We'll have a kid," he says, "And apparently a set of grandparents who sound
like they're willing to babysit. I think we can manage to squeeze in a bit of
voyaging."
This time her smile seems genuine, relieved, and he squeezes her shoulder in
reassurance.
 

Moana's father shouts out her name with enough urgency to be concerning, and
Maui turns away from surveying the channel out to sea to look back at her.
"Dad?" she calls back, seemingly unhurt and perfectly fine. She hands off the
line she was holding to him.
He looks over her shoulders to the beach, where Tui is standing with his feet
in the surf.
"What are you doing on that boat?"
Moana heaves a sigh and glances back at Maui, sending him an exasperated look
she clearly wants him to commiserate with. He holds his hands up instead; he's
not going to get in the way of a family squabble.
"It's fine, Dad!" she shouts. "I'll see you later!"
"Moana!"
But she turns away from her father with a shake of her head. "He's only gotten
more stifling," she says.
"He's worried," Maui says with a shrug. "As if I'd ever let you get hurt on my
watch."
She jabs the oar at his stomach and he lets out a pained puff of air; when had
she even picked that up? "Don't you dare start," she says, "I could take care
of myself before and I can take care of myself now."
He can't help the way he looks down at her swelling belly, suddenly wondering
if her father has a point. Wouldn't it be safer for her and the baby to stay on
land? Except the ocean still interacts with her even now that Te Fiti's heart
has been restored, and he's pretty sure it won't let her drown if she falls
overboard.
"Well can you take care of using that oar to steer?" Maui asks, shaking out the
line still in his hands as if he hadn't for even a split second considered
turning back around. "Unless you want to go fishing for tuna while stuck on the
reef."
She lifts her eyes to look around. They are indeed drifting towards the ring of
coral that surrounds Motunui, and Moana crouches down at the stern to get them
back on track to leave through the channel.
Once they're out in the wide blue the sway in her steps from walking on water
is accentuated by the rolling weight of her belly, a mesmerizing rhythm. She
does just about everything as easily as ever but eventually has to admit defeat
in trying to climb up the mast, a hand pressed to her lower back and a sour
expression on her face. But then the ocean lifts up a curl of water and
splashes over her feet, and somehow that's all it takes for a smile to spread
back across her lips.
"I'm going swimming," she says, already starting to pull at the knot holding
her skirts closed. "You can handle things for a bit, right?"
Maui can, actually- there hasn't been so much as a nibble on their hooks since
they've gotten out here, the wind is calm and sky clear, and there's no sign of
other people on the water- but he doesn't get a chance to respond before she's
jumping overboard like a dolphin. She stays under for a minute before surfacing
again right next to the side of the canoe, hair plastered to her head and water
streaming from her skin.
"If you see a shark, it's not me," he tells her. She grins and takes a deep
breath, going back under.
They're so far out that there's no way for her to come close to the bottom, and
they aren't even near any coral reefs or kelp beds. There's just ocean and sky
and a little canoe, all the raw elements that call to the both of them so
deeply it's a wonder their blood isn't seawater.
He watches Moana splash around for an hour or so, body entirely naked save her
necklace and the ocean responding to her like she's the mythic one here,
instead of just a hard-headed human. She looks sleek in the water, the swell of
her belly not slowing her down at all, all supple flesh and flowing hair.
Finally she comes back to the boat, face glowing with happiness. The sea lifts
her up and deposits her back onto the deck, splashing a little wave in his
direction as it goes. It's no longer angry with him but it doesn't like him
nearly as much as it likes Moana, and for once he can't blame someone
(something?) for not liking him best.
"We sure it's my baby and not the ocean's?" Maui asks, eyeballing the sea in a
show of suspicion.
She laughs and wrings out her hair. "Pretty sure I'd remember the ocean doing
that," she says.
Moana stretches herself upwards, going up to her toes with her hands reaching
for the sky, and the sight is one part comical- her belly juts off her frame
prominently like this, a bit like it's just stuck on- and two parts arousing,
all the curves of her body on display, her skin glimmering with seawater in the
sunlight.
She's filling out more and more by the day, stomach rounder, breasts heavier as
she grows their baby. She doesn't much resemble the kid she was up on the
gateway to Lalotai anymore, her changing body turning her into an absolute
vision of womanhood.
She sighs as she settles back down, her hand going to support the curve of her
stomach. "It feels so much lighter in the water," she says, turning to look in
his direction.
Maui realizes he's been staring and drags his eyes back up to her face, where
her expression shows her to be smirking in amusement.
The canoe isn't going anywhere, hasn't been going anywhere since before she
went in for her swim. It doesn't matter if he gets up and walks the short
distance across the deck to where she's standing so that he can put his hands
on her skin.
"You look so good like this," he whispers into her ear, "All big and full of
me."
Moana tilts her head up to meet his and pushes into his touches, somehow more
demanding now than she had been in the beginning. "It's not all you, you know,"
she says, wrapping her arms around his neck to keep him close.
"Mhm, yeah," Maui agrees. "Such a big job you have, carrying our baby."
Her stomach's gotten big enough that it's impossible to ignore when he presses
up against her front, the bump running into his own stomach before any other
part of her. He likes feeling it as much as he likes seeing it, but he has to
admit that it isn't always convenient.
"I want to ride you," she says, and he nods agreeably. Probably better if he
doesn't throw his weight around and risk the boat tipping over, anyway.
She's already naked and it takes hardly any time at all for him to strip, and
he can feel gentle waves rocking against the hull of the canoe as he gets down
on the decking. Moana lets him eat her out, the taste of her salty from the sea
until he's lapped it all away to be replaced with her own wetness, lets him
roam his hands from her thighs to her breasts, rubbing over her belly as he
goes.
When she's had enough she moves away and kisses him for a long minute, her hair
blocking out the sunlight as it falls around her head so for the moment there
isn't anything else in the world but the two of them. Then she moves along his
body to sink down onto his cock while he groans at the feeling; the weight of
her belly is starting to affect how she feels against him, a new pressure to
add to the blissful wrap of her pussy.
Walking had made the sway in her movements more noticeable than usual but he's
entirely unprepared for the sinuous waves of her body as she rides him, hips
moving in time with the water it seems like. It's probably blasphemous but he
thinks she looks as if she could be a goddess of the ocean, all flowing curves
nearly bursting with the stuff new life is made of, rolling her entire body
gracefully like she's a wave given human form.
Maui holds his hand out for her to rub against as she moves, languid and
unhurried. She's so slick against his fingers, hot around his cock, and that
plus the sight of her is nearly enough to make him come undone.
She sighs and picks up her pace, motions becoming strong enough to affect the
rocking of the boat underneath them. He's so enchanted by the sight of her that
he has to start moving his fingers against her clit deliberately because if he
comes before she does he'll never hear the end of it. Moana leans her weight
back, all the way until she's braced with her hands behind her, and moans
loudly at whatever the changed angle has done for her.
He gets her to orgasm and then has to start really moving his own hips, trying
not to affect the balance of the canoe too much as he thrusts up into her. This
would be easier if he'd though to be closer to the center, rather than the
bucking ends, but oh well.
She moves with him, tight breathy noises and a cunt that's squeezing him half
to death, and just as he's rolling his hips up with a last few hard thrusts as
he comes there's a wave, or a gust of wind, or just their own activities- point
is, the canoe loses its balance, tipping them overboard as it capsizes.
Maui flails indignantly, caught entirely off guard, while Moana gives a
shrieking laugh as she splashes into the water.
He spares a split second to wonder what the odds are of the ocean bringing back
his hook this time and dives down, fingers grasping the familiar bone of it
with deep relief before it sinks too far. He resurfaces and spits out seawater,
swimming the few strokes it takes to get back to the overturned hull. "I think
the ocean got jealous," he says, and she rolls her eyes.
"If you'd stayed put like you were supposed to..." she says, and he pulls a
face at her.
The ocean says nothing, which doesn't at all clear it of suspicion.
 

"Oh!" Moana gasps, and he looks over at her. She has a hand pressed against her
belly and she's smiling; her other hand beckons him. "Come feel, they're moving
on the outside!"
Maui moves over instantly, kneeling at her side. She takes his hand and guides
it to where hers was just resting and he waits; a few seconds later there's a
gently flurry of movement, tiny kicks he can finally feel. He grins at her and
puts his other hand on the other side, covering as much ground as he can.
"Hi baby," he croons to her stomach, struck with the realization that it's
really real now, she's really carrying their baby inside of her and it's really
truly alive. "Oh, aren't you so fierce already! So strong!"
"Don't encourage them," Moana says, "If they get even a quarter of your
strength I'll be bruised from the inside within a week."
"Gross," he says, imagining what that would even entail. "None of my other kids
got my godly gifts, though, so you're probably safe."
She stares at him in surprise for a moment. "You have other children?"
Oh. They haven't talked about this yet, have they? Maui takes his hands off her
belly- the baby's gone quiet already anyway- and sits down more comfortably.
"Yeah," he says, and rubs one of the bands around his arm where there's a
design for each of them, hidden in plain sight. No one ever asks about the
markings that don't obviously depict great feats. And now he'll have a new one
before the year's out, if everything goes the way it should. "Four beautiful
boys and six wonderful girls."
Moana is looking at him like she's forgotten that he's thousands of years old,
and the thought that he might have loved others enough for children to happen
has never occurred to her.
"I try to keep up with where their descendants are, but after a thousand years
on that rock..." he shakes his head. "Well, most people already assume the
'Maui' included in their ancestry is a euphemism anyway."
She lays her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry," she says, and Maui isn't sure what
she's sorry about.
"It happens," he says with a shrug of his shoulder. He doesn't like to think
about it, realized around year five-hundred on that miserable island that even
if he could find their descendants they wouldn't know anything about their
great-great-etc grandparent whom he'd known. There's a lot to be said for what
stories and songs preserve, but living memory is something else entirely.
"Will you tell me about them?" Moana asks. "Your other children, I mean. It's
okay if you don't want to, but I'd like to hear if you want to share."
"Yeah," he says with a nod, and has to clear his throat before he begins
talking.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry for the late chapter! Next one will be this Friday like usual.
     :3
Maui can count on one hand the number of nights he doesn't go to sleep lying
next to Moana, but it's not very unusual for him to wake up alone. Some
mornings she has things to do, or feels restless and wants an early start;
today he finds her at the shore, calf-deep in the surf and dancing.
"My Gramma taught me how to dance like this," she says without turning around.
He hums a polite acknowledgement and dips his toes into the water; there's a
ray of some sort swimming not too far off shore, big and gray under the waves.
Moana's movements are fluid, graceful. Perfectly in time with the waves lapping
at the sand.
"You can join if you want," she says, and finally looks over her shoulder at
him.
"Not sure it's really my style," he replies, but steps a bit further into the
water anyway. He copies her movements, but as he gets the rhythm of it he can
tell what waves she's using as her beat, and starts dancing a complement
instead of following exactly. It's a little awkward to manage with his hook in
hand, but he'd taken it with him and now isn't entirely sure he wants to leave
it unattended where the ocean can get to it.
Moana looks at him from the corner of her eye, catching his new rhythm, but
there's a smile on her lips when she tips her head back into the early
sunshine. She looks almost like an extension of the water itself, her body
swaying and shifting as if she's being surrounded by the currents.
He wants to capture her in this moment forever- skin glowing with the morning
light, body moving in perfect harmony with the ocean, womb filled with their
growing child. There's a smile on her face and her eyes are closed, entirely
unselfconscious as she dances.
He has never in his life encountered a mortal so infatuated, nor seen the sea
respond in kind. Not for the first time Maui wonders, a bit selfishly, if she
isn't entirely mortal at all, if maybe being 'The Chosen One' comes with a few
more perks than just a friendly ocean.
In the distance behind her he can see the rest of the village waking up and
starting their daily tasks. Up on the hill her mother shakes out one of her
sleeping mats; if he looks at the two of them side-by-side he can see their
resemblance clearly, can see the ways Moana's face will settle as she gets
older. And she is going to get older- she may have an uncanny affinity for the
sea but she's human through-and-through, something both glorious and terrible.
She'll get older and their child will grow up and then grow old until their
lives both slip through his fingers like so many others he's known.
His skin feels tight suddenly, itchy with the need to move.
Magic flares from his hook as he transforms into a fish, splashing into the
water with barely a sound; Moana's feet look large like this, dancing
delicately across the waterlogged sand.
He swims for a few minutes before leaping out of the water, more and more
showily until she sighs and holds out her hands. Maui jumps up into them, still
a fish.
"You are such a nuisance," she says, but she's still smiling as he pretends to
flop around helplessly.
He turns himself into a songbird and launches into the air, flitting around her
head. It's too early in the morning for any sort of heavy thoughts and so he
sings to her about all the ways he'd like to spend the day with her, how the
flowers on the mountain are sweet and the grass soft. Moana flaps her hands at
him and laughs, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, until he splashes back down
into the surf as a man.
Maui kisses the smiling curve of her lips until she sighs, but fails to
convince her to ditch the rest of her day's chores.
 

"So," he says, twirling his fishhook upright in the sand. "Funny story."
She looks over at him with an unimpressed expression. "What did you break?"
"I resent that," Maui says immediately.
Moana doesn't say anything, just lifts her eyebrows in silent question.
"When I was out earlier, I maybe overheard something about an island that needs
just a-" he hold up a hand, two fingers just barely held apart- "tiiiny pinch
of help with something." They didn't really talk about whether he's allowed to
leave or if she wants him on Motunui all the time, and he thinks she's the
reasonable type but he'd rather err on the side of being persuasive.
"Are you... asking permission?" she says, expression dubious.
"Maybe?" Maui replies.
"I'm not keeping you prisoner here," she says. "If you want to go somewhere,
you can go. No permission needed."
"Yeah but." He stops himself before going further.
"I mean, I want you to tell me instead of just disappearing," she says, "But
that's not the same thing."
He considers this and figures that no, that doesn't really sound like the same
thing. "So if I head out for a few days you'd be cool with it?"
Moana shrugs in a way that suggests she won't necessarily like it but she won't
stop him. He probably doesn't deserve her.
"I'd invite you along but it's going to be really boring," he says, as if he'd
want her somewhere even vaguely dangerous while weighted down with a pregnancy.
"What is it?" she asks.
Maui wonders if he should lie, because making it sound cool or interesting
means she very well might push to join him despite how bad of an idea that
would be. But she'll probably know if he lies, dammit. "There may or may not be
a type of crab that's learned to use fire," he says.
"Crabs?"
"Maybe," he says. "Maybe not. Probably not, really; the guy who told me didn't
seem all there, you know?"
"I won't feel sorry for you if they burn off your hair," Moana says.
"Hey," he replies instinctively, free hand going up to his head like he can
protect his hair just from the suggestion. "See if I bring you back a souvenir
now."
She huffs fondly and flicks out a hand. "You have fulfilled your 'letting me
know where you're going' responsibilities," she says, "You are now free to
leave."
Maui leans down and kisses her cheek. "You're sure? The crabs probably won't be
able to leave that island, I could just leave 'em be. Who says humans get to be
the only ones with fire, anyhow?"
"Goodbye, Maui," she says.
He grins at her before jumping up into the air with a shout, turning into a
hawk with an ease he still isn't willing to take for granted anymore. Even with
her big belly Moana grows smaller and smaller below him, until he's up high
enough that she's just a dark little dot on the beach. Then he heads out in the
direction he'd been told the rumored island lies.
 

What he doesn't expect is how different it is to be away from her now, at least
in the respect that he now has nothing to distract his thoughts with. He'd been
gone most of a week before the wedding, but that was right after he found out,
when it was still very much not real that Moana was pregnant and going to be
married to him.
Now it's been nearly three months of falling asleep next to her, seeing her
every day, spending large chunks of his time with her; he's getting used to it
far too quickly. He'd spent the last thousand years by himself and he knew that
he was going to want to spend a decent amount of time around people again-
Mini-Maui was never the best conversationalist- but it's a surprise how much he
wants to spend his time with one person in particular.
He takes four days to fly to the afflicted island and it's four days that he
could have been spending with her, which is just way too overly sappy and
clingy to even contemplate. He's been gone four days, not four years.
Maui shakes off the thoughts and surveys the scraggly island from the air.
There's definitely fire damage, but he doesn't see any sign of crabs, demonic
or otherwise.
"Y'ello?" he calls as he lands, though as far as he can tell there aren't any
humans here. Sure enough, the only reply he gets is silence.
He gets to the edge of one of the burned patches and toes at a charred tree
trunk, dark powdery ash smearing onto his skin. It looks fairly fresh and he
wonders if whatever happened was just natural- lightning strike or something-
or if maybe some kids had sailed over and set fires.
Though how a person jumps from 'young hooligans' to 'crabs wielding fire' he's
a bit unsure about.
There's nothing to be seen in the first clearing, nothing in the second other
than that it seems older, new green shoots already peeking out from under the
charcoal.
The third burn Maui walks to finally yields results. He can hear movement even
above the normal rustling leaves and calling birds, and when he gets to the
edge of the cleared space he sees five or six crabs abruptly scuttle into
hiding under some of the burned logs.
So there does seem to be some sort of a connection between crabs and fire after
all, and isn't that interesting?
"Here crabby crabby," he calls cheerfully as he makes for the closest of the
logs. He flips it over with his hook, revealing a pair of black crabs hunkered
down in the soot. Their dark little eyes look up at him and he grabs for one
before it can get away.
"Gotcha!"
He lifts it up into the air, its legs flailing wildly, and other than the
weirdness of being so far up on land he can't see anything about it that
suggests an ability to set fires. Until the black shell abruptly starts glowing
red and heats up; he drops it with a curse, fingers smarting at the burn.
The crab scuttles away swiftly, headed for one of the other logs. It's still a
bright red, putting off a soft light as it dives into the dark space under the
charred chunk of wood, and when it settles in Maui watches as the glow sort of
radiates out along the length of the log rather than snuffing out.
He strides over and moves this log away, too, and discovers that the glow is
from a whole bunch of crabs, all bright red. The air shimmers above them like
it's hot and he lets out a "huh." Apparently the crabs aren't using fire, they
are fire.
The crabs don't flee this time but rather stare in a creepy manner, claws
snapping out little clicks.
Maui isn't entirely surprised when they as one start moving in his direction,
scuttling as fast as their little legs can take them. Which turns out to be
pretty fast, actually. He swings his fishhook to knock them aside but gets
attacked from the back as well, burning-hot claws pinching his heels.
"Ow, dammit! Cut that out."
They don't listen to him, tragically. He dances from foot to foot to avoid
them, yowling in pain when he accidentally steps on one- they feel like burning
coals, but with the added sting of claws.
He smushes one under his hook and it dies with a little puff of flame, body
turning to ash. The rest double their fervor until he's batting them aside in
droves, more of them pouring in from the forest and leaving smoke in their
wake. It's sort of fun if he ignores the pinching, and while it has proven
dangerous enough that he's glad Moana stayed behind, he's sure she would be
enjoying herself anyway if she was here, probably smacking them around with her
oar gleefully.
Except of course, she hadn't managed to even kill that too-dumb-to-live chicken
and it's that sort of attitude that resulted in his sullying her for Lalotai
and getting her pregnant, so maybe it wouldn't be so much fun for her after
all.
He steps right on another glowing red crab and swears, foot burning. The smoke
is getting thicker, still more crabs trickling in through the trees, and he
heads for the beach with the hope that water might put them out as well as
generally feeling like it's better to be away from the impending forest fire.
The crabs follow, snapping in unison in what is a surprisingly menacing manner.
Maui grabs one that's clinging to his skirt and flings it into the ocean. It
sizzles as it lands and doesn't crawl back out, so he figures either he's
accidentally teaching them that they can swim or it's a decent way to get rid
of them. He smashes and swings at them with his hook, not even bothering to
power it up- they're tenacious, he'll give them that, but they're also just
crabs smaller than one of his hands.
None of the crabs he throws into the ocean come back, and the ones left on the
beach start learning to dodge, rushing in to pinch and burn him and then
darting back out of reach. It's ridiculous and his feet are really starting to
sting from all this abuse.
The ocean doesn't act all friendly and helpful for him like it does for Moana,
but that doesn't mean he can't use it to his advantage anyway. He goads the
crabs into following him as he backs up towards the surf; their legs hit the
edge of the waves and they scurry just a few paces back, claws waving
menacingly.
He quickly wades in up to his knees and blows out a huge breath, spraying a
wave of water forward.
It doesn't hit all of the crabs but it gets a fair few, the rest dancing back
as droplets sizzle on their glowing shells. He repeats the move as quickly as
he can before they retreat too far and grins when he's left with an easy ten or
so.
The crabs evidently think better of messing with him and start scurrying back
to the trees, but he hops out of the water and smushes them before they can get
far enough to do more than make some of the beach grass smolder.
"So that was fun," Maui says to himself, looking around to see if he missed
any. He pokes around the burned patches and turns up a few more crabs, but
after his second tour around the place he really does seem to have eradicated
them.
"Wonder where they came from," he says conversationally to Mini-Maui, who
shrugs.
He turns his fishhook over in his hand contemplatively. Could be some sort of
demon had their hand in things, or a human spell. Might just be a weird fluke
from Te Fiti having been, err, indisposed for so long.
He could track down the cause, he's sure of it. Sniff around to see if there's
any magic lingering on the smushed bits of crab, check in with the nearby
islands to see if they have anyone suspicious, if they've noticed any portals
to other realms opening up, that sort of thing.
The little Moana on his chest bobs along on her tattooed waves, reminding him
that any time spent out here is less time spent with the real Moana and their
still-cooking kid.
It was fun smashing fire crabs, though. More fun than hanging around the same
island weaving baskets and listening to reports on how their crops are growing,
certainly. He could spare a few more days, right? Just long enough to get to
the bottom of this mystery and then he'll go home.
Maui looks at the trees and then out at the ocean, indecisive.
One Mini-Maui's hopped up to stand next to little Moana and the other is
batting around crabs, the both of them looking perfectly content like they're
hoping to entice him over to their side.
"Not helping, guys," he says, and drags them back to their normal positions. He
hates when his tattoos disagree, it's such a weird feeling.
Well, it is getting dark out... He can fly or swim at night just as easily as
during the day- easier, really, since he has so many more markers to navigate
by- but it seems like a good compromise to stay the night. Sleep on things.
He ends up not actually getting much sleep; he missed a few crabs, apparently,
their red glow easy to spot in the darkness, and while he takes care of them
easily he just can't get his mind to settle.
He's never been good at denying himself the things he wants and he really wants
both, is the thing- to go out adventuring and to be home with Moana. And some
day he will be able to have both at the same time, at least for a while, but
right now it's an impasse. Every day he spends out here is one less he gets to
share of her painfully mortal life, but every day he spends cooped up in the
same village makes the horizon seem that much further away.
Maui kicks at some of the crab carcasses left on the shore, and is entirely
surprised when the ocean curls up a tendril to- well, it doesn't have eyes so
it isn't really looking at him but it's communicating, he supposes.
"What's up?" he asks, hoping it isn't going to try and tell him something bad
happened to Moana. He assumes it can tell what happens in different places,
anyway, considering it fills in all the spaces inbetween.
The tendril extends itself in his direction, something dark caught up in the
water, and he obligingly holds out a hand. It's one of the dead crabs, which is
a sort of creepy present that makes him wonder if there's a message there. But
as he actually gets it in his hand Maui can tell that it isn't really a normal
crab carcass- it's absolutely rigid, smooth and glossy and heavy. Feels like
obsidian, actually, and when he holds it up to the light of the moon he can see
that it's transparent like obsidian too, a red cast to the glimmering light.
"Thanks buddy," he says, looking back at the ocean. The crabs must have turned
to obsidian as they hit the water, cooling like lava would to leave a perfect
copy. "She's gonna love it."
The ocean's tendril shimmies in place like an excited dog, not that he'd ever
tell it that comparison, and splashes back down.
Maui examines the obsidian crab for another few moments, taking in the detail
an artist could only ever hope to capture, before looking for something to wrap
it up in for the flight back.
 

It's night when he makes it back to Motunui which means he misses out on a
grand entrance, but also means no one's going to care that all he wants to do
is crawl into bed with Moana. He pushes his way past the screens as quietly as
he can and stands in place for a moment, eyes adjusting to the near-total
darkness.
"Mhm?" Not quietly enough, apparently.
"Go back to sleep," Maui whispers.
"You're back," she says, voice sleepy and confused. He makes his way carefully
over to where their bed usually is and kneels at the edge of the mats, just
about able to make out her outline in the dim space.
"Just got in," he says, and swoops in to press a kiss to her forehead. "Got a
present for you."
"Oh," Moana says, soft. There's something odd about her tone but it is the
middle of the night, and when he slips in under the blanket with her she
immediately moves to wrap an arm around him, head resting against his chest. "I
missed you."
It was barely more than a week, he wants to say despite the hypocrisy. "Me
too," he says instead. "How's the tadpole?"
"Good," she replies. "Active."
Maui hums, glad to hear it.
"Maui," she says, hesitant and so unlike her usual manner, "Are... are you only
here because of the baby?"
A wave of surprise runs through him, cold and unpleasant. Of course he isn't,
and he wouldn't know how she even got the idea- except for how he's put his
fingers in his ears and chanted nonsense to keep the thoughts from intruding
because once he admits it, even to himself, he's utterly lost. He wonders if
someone said something to bring doubt to her mind- or if he really hasn't been
already showing her at all how much she means to him, beyond the fact that
she's carrying their child.
"No," he says, gathering her up close to him. "No; of course not, Mo."
He rubs his hand over her back, wondering if he can get away with that being
enough. He's married her, hasn't he? Agreed to settle down with her when he
could have just spent time visiting to keep track of their kid. Came back in
the first place before he knew there was a kid because things seemed less
interesting, less exciting, without her by his side.
"I love you," Moana says quietly, directly to his skin.
He goes completely still, is pretty sure even his heart stops beating. "Who
wouldn't?" he says entirely without meaning to, the glib words falling out
because this, this is exactly what he's always been afraid of.
"Maui, don't," she says, "Please don't make fun of me."
Maui squeezes his eyes tight even though it's dark already and says, "I love
you too."
He means it, is the thing. The words feel like they're being drawn out of him
with a hook because he's terrified of it, terrified of how much she means to
him. And she might think she loves him but he's never enough, never right. They
want the man and not the demigod, they want the demigod and not the man, they
want him to be something else entirely- he can never win and he never learns,
can never build up armor tough enough to keep himself safe when it all falls
apart.
"I just said don't make fun of me," she says, and he hates the way she sounds,
the defensiveness in her words.
"I'm not," he replies, wholly unable to keep his voice from betraying his
sincerity, "Gods, Mo, I'm really not."
Moana sniffs wetly and oh no, he's making her cry. His chest clenches and he
hauls her up along his body until he can press his forehead against hers
because she has to know that he means it, that he feels so deeply for her it's
lodged in the very marrow of his bones, suffusing his entire being.
"I love you," he says again into the quiet space where their breath is
mingling, the words no easier to get out this time. "I have for a while now."
He swallows heavily, closes his eyes. "I- I think I loved you before I even
knew there was a baby and a future, back when you should have been just a
shrimpy brat to me."
Her breath is still uneven but when he looks at her again he can't see any
tears in her wide eyes, and she hasn't moved out of his embrace.
"Don't leave me hanging," Maui says when the silence is stretching thin.
She sniffs again and reaches up to brush a lock of hair off the side of his
face, then tilts her head to kiss him. Not what he was angling for but he rolls
with it, kissing back soft and slow.
He doesn't do mushy emotional stuff, but all he wants right now is to make
Moana feel better, feel loved because apparently he fucked that up enough for
her to think he's only here for the baby. So he gives it a shot, holds her
close and tries to tell her silently all of the things he's been too scared to
tell her before.
'I love you,' he says when he kisses her mouth, 'I want you' when he trails his
hands over her skin, 'I'm scared of how much you mean to me' when he presses
his face to her chest, 'please don't leave me' when he slips his fingers
between her thighs and coaxes her to orgasm. All the things he can't say out
loud because of how true they are, all the things he needs to tell her because
if she doesn't know then he's failed her.
Whether any of it gets through on her end Maui can't be sure of, but he doesn't
know what else to do. She'd said some pretty things earlier but really all he
has, all he is, is what he can offer to other people and he's never felt like
this for anyone, doesn't know how to make a present of it.
Moana holds him and kisses him right back, murmuring quiet private things into
the soft dark space between them that he does his best to answer before his
courage fails him.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
     The penultimate chapter- just one left!
     Warning for brief (non-sexy) mention of lactation, skip the section
     beginning "He isn't really sucking all that hard..." to avoid
     entirely. And a warning for a semi-graphic birth scene; it happens
     'on screen' but (imho) doesn't really get into the gory details.
     Still, skip the section beginning "It's a really dumb idea to be out
     sailing this late in her pregnancy..." if you don't want to read it.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
By the time Motunui's fleet of canoes are ready to go voyaging, Moana is most
definitely not. She's just finishing up her eighth month and, though she
vehemently protests anyone trying to put limits to her activities, she's just
not up for the rigors of voyaging, let alone wayfinding for the duration. She's
not up for any journey, really; he's nervous about her even going beyond the
reef lately.
"And what if you give birth in the middle of it?" Maui asks, knowing better by
now than to stop her from trying to clamber all over the boats, but still
keeping an eye on any attempts she might make to actually launch one of them.
"Then I give birth," she replies flippantly. "It'll happen eventually anyway,
or so I've been led to believe."
There's a pretty big difference between birthing safe in the middle of her
village and laboring while on a canoe headed towards the unknown. He's certain
that she must know this but she's so hard-headed that sometimes it's hard to
tell.
"Two more months, that's all we're asking," he says. He's dubious about whether
a single month will be enough recovery time, and equally dubious about whether
a newborn is really a good candidate to go voyaging either, but that was the
compromise they'd finally struck. They're all lucky Motunui isn't one of the
places that thinks seawater will sour a mother's milk, because he cannot even
imagine trying to keep her out of the water entirely. Some of the stories Tui
has to share on the subject are simply hair-raising.
Moana knots off the lashing she was fiddling with and scowls. "That's easy for
you to say," she says acidly, "Mr. 'I didn't even notice it'd been ten years
until there was a tree growing on the roof of my hut'."
He regrets telling her that story.
"I could just carry you back if you try," he says. If he's careful he probably
won't hurt her with his hawk talons, or maybe she can ride on his back? Huh,
that's one he hasn't messed with too much- his hawk form is already pretty
giant, but he wonders just how big he can push it to be.
"Not if you don't have your hook."
"Hey now," Maui says, "Let's not talk crazy here." Because even in jest the
thought sends a spark of panic through him. His fishhook isn't all he has,
isn't all he is- he does truly believe that most days now- but it's really damn
useful and, remade or not, is so entwined with his own energy that it feels
almost like a part of his body.
"I just want everyone to stop treating me like a damn invalid!" she says, even
as she brings a hand up to massage the muscles along her side, undoubtedly
strained by the way she was twisting and stretching as she did completely
unnecessary work on the outrigger.
"What is so bad about taking it easy?" he asks, cautiously moving closer to her
to see if she'll let him rub her back for her. "I quite enjoy it."
"You're just lazy," Moana says, but she relaxes into his touch.
He scoffs. "Laziness is why I risked life and limb doing so many things for you
mortals?" Her muscles are always tense these days, sore from carrying around so
much weight, and he does his best to balance purely relaxing touches with ones
meant to actually help relieve the strain.
"Why can't you do something about pregnancy, then?" she says. "Give it to men,
maybe." She turns her head and gives him an evaluative look that frankly makes
him nervous. "You look like you could handle carrying a baby or two."
Maui's long given up meddling with the inner workings of humans- he doesn't
think he'll ever be over the failed attempt at getting them immortality- and he
isn't sure just transferring the condition is really a solution, anyway. "I
could turn you into an animal," he suggests. "Never heard a pig complain about
being pregnant."
"If you turn me into a pig I will eat you," she says. The pigs they have on
Motunui are a smaller breed than some, but he has no doubts that she'd use her
teeth well.
"Fair," he agrees. "A bird? You could lay an egg."
Moana huffs a laugh despite herself. "Why not a tree? You'd just have to
harvest the baby when it's ripe."
He contemplates for a moment what that would even look like. A baby-shaped
fruit? A shoot branching off her main trunk? "I'll turn you into seawater," he
says, "You'll give birth to foam."
"Don't tease me like that," she says with a sigh that sounds just a little too
much like genuine longing. Some days he really does wonder if it isn't the
ocean's child that she's carrying after all, if she won't give birth to
something with gills and fins.
Maui brushes her hair over her shoulder and kisses the nape of her neck in
apology. "If I could help I would," he says honestly.
"I know," she says, leaning back against his chest, "I know."
 
He isn't really sucking all that hard, but one moment there's nothing but warm
peaked skin in his mouth and the next there's that and a little bit of liquid,
slightly salty and bitter. Maui pulls away from her nipple and gives her breast
a gentle squeeze with his hand; a bead of foggy yellow-ish liquid slowly
materializes.
"Hey, Mo," he says with bubbly excitement because this is one step closer,
"Look! Your milk's coming in."
Moana looks down at her chest and the tiny drop of liquid, and grimaces. "Okay,
that's enough from you," she says. Her hands bat him away from her breasts.
"Hey, what gives?" he asks even as he moves to comply with her request, "It
doesn't bother me."
"Good for you," she says. "If they're making milk, that means they're the
baby's, now."
Maui pouts exaggeratedly at her. "But the kid won't be here for awhile yet and
I'm here now."
"Too bad," she says in a sing-song tone, and sends a longing look towards where
her clothes are bundled up on the floor. Covering up entirely seems a bit
excessive; if she says to leave her breasts alone, that's what he'll do. No
matter how he'll miss the weight of them in his palm, the way he can make her
moan just from the right sort of rolling pinch. At least he could still look.
"Well can I still touch the rest of you?" he asks, moving his hands to wrap
around the edge of her ribcage, just above where her belly starts growing
outward.
"I don't know, can you?" Moana says playfully, but then grimaces again, hand
flying to her stomach. "Oof, you sure there's no extra strength going on? I
think they just kicked my guts in."
"You might be the lucky first," he says. He drops down so his head is level
with her belly, and looks at the stretched skin as if he can see through to the
baby inside. "Hey brat, knock it off in there," he says sternly. "You're making
your mother unhappy, and may the gods help us if that happens."
He can't really feel anything moving around in her womb, but there's so little
space left for the baby to go these days he wouldn't be entirely surprised if
it's stuck facing inwards. "Better?" he asks, looking up at her face again.
She beams at him and it's like the sun's come out in the middle of the night.
"I'm gonna be a mom," she says with a level of excitement he doesn't think he's
heard from her.
"Yeah you are," he replies, getting the feeling that sex might no longer be on
the table for tonight, which is a shame because it's become sort of a rare
event these days.
"I can't wait to meet them," she says as she sits fully upright from her
reclining position, and yep, sex is officially toast. His erection starts
wilting sadly.
"Not much longer," he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to support
her back. "You're about ready to pop."
"Don't say it like that," Moana says with a wrinkle of her nose. "It sounds so
gross."
She shuffles and wiggles until somehow she's cradled between his legs, head
tucked into the crook of his arm. It never ceases to be a wonder that she can
curl up so small when she has that large stomach to contend with, so small he
can still encircle her entirely.
"Whelping?" he suggests, moving his hand down to feel the rounded curve of her
belly. "Spawning? Hatching? Wait, no- clutching, sorry."
She smacks a hand against him. "I'm not spawning either," she says. "I'm going
to give birth like any other human."
"Boring," Maui says, "I still say you'd make a cute hen."
She rolls her head so her cheek is resting against his chest, just to the side
of where Mini-Maui's happily cuddling his own version of Moana. It's ceased to
be a surprise to find the pair of them out of the places they're meant to be,
especially when he's with the real Moana.
"You wouldn't want me to be a chicken," she says to the tattoo like she's
looking for commiseration.
The little figures regard each other for a moment, and then the tattoo Moana is
picking up Mini-Maui's fishhook to hand off to him. He holds her hand and they
both shrink down into a pair of matching chickens, hen and rooster.
Moana chuckles and drags her finger over the inky lines, the tattoos fluttering
their tiny wings and strutting around.
"See?" Maui says, "Not so bad."
"If I give birth to anything but a human baby, I'm going to personally feed you
to Tamatoa," she says, sending him a look that brooks no arguments.
"Fine, fine," he says in capitulation. The little Moana springs back up to
being her normal self with a shake of her head like she's dizzy before going
back to her boat, Mini-Maui following a moment later to settle into his usual
place holding up the sky again.
Maui dips down and brushes a kiss to the side of the real Moana's head. "I'm
sure it'll be a screaming, curly-headed brat just like you."
 
It's a really dumb idea to be out sailing this late in her pregnancy, but Moana
had gotten that look in her eye that said she was going to do it whether she
had to swim out there herself.
"Will you calm down?" she snaps. "You're making me nervous, and nervous-"
"Isn't good for the baby," Maui choruses with her. "Yeah, I know. What I don't
know is why we can't just stay in the lagoon."
"I want to go swimming in the ocean," she says, "Not be penned in by the reef."
"I thought your weird cravings were supposed to be over by now," he mutters
under his breath. The only reason he's actually on the damn canoe with her is
because he'd flown over to it; nine months pregnant and ready to drop, and she
insists she can go sail the open ocean all by her damn self.
Moana probably heard his muttering, but she doesn't say anything in response.
They go far enough that Motunui is a green blur on the horizon, and then he
reefs the sail and refuses to go any further.
"I'll turn into a whale and carry you back in my mouth," he says when she tries
to suggest they continue until there's nothing but horizon as far as the eye
can see.
"You're being ridiculous," she replies, as if what she's doing is perfectly
ordinary. Then she huffs, and strips bare. She can't exactly dive into the
water gracefully anymore and Maui hopes the ocean is going to give her a hand
up when she's ready to get back on board because he doubts that is going to be
a graceful operation either.
She lets out a deep groan of relief when she's submerged in the water, one hand
holding onto the side of the canoe. "I've changed my mind," she says, "Turn me
into a dolphin; I'm never coming out."
Some days the words seem less like a joke than others. "Dolphins can't be
wayfinders," he points out.
"I'll make it work," Moana says, and then takes a deep breath before submerging
herself completely. She's less ungainly in the water than on land, but it's
still an awkward sight to watch her swim around with that big belly of hers. It
juts up into the air when she rolls to float on her back, a miniature island
forming out of the waves.
He can hear her talking in the distance but can't make out what she's saying;
he wonders if she's talking to the ocean or the baby or both.
An hour or two later he's starting to seriously consider whether they should
head back when he hears his name called out in a tremulous voice.
"Maui?"
He instantly turns his attention to Moana, floundering her way towards the
canoe. The water picks her up and carries her the rest of the way in a gentle
wave, and instead of standing she lets herself rest against the deck on her
side, curling in on herself.
"I think we need to go back," she says. Both of her hands are wrapped around
her middle, and his mind blanks out for a second because oh fuck.
"You're going into labor?" he asks in disbelief, crouching down next to her.
It's absolutely ridiculous and absolutely something she would do; he should
have dragged her back to shore from the start.
"I don't know," she says, "But it hurts. Swimming helped but not enough, and
now-" she breaks off to grunt in pain, and if he looks he thinks he can see a
ripple of movement under the stretched skin of her belly as her womb contracts.
"It hurts." She sounds a little bit betrayed, as if despite all the talks she
was given and births she must have seen she thought the other women were
exaggerating.
"Okay," Maui says, trying rather hard not to panic. Panic isn't going to help
them here. "Okay, Mo. Here's what we'll do."
He looks away from her to the smudge of island on the horizon. He could fly
that distance far more quickly than they could sail it, but does he want to
take the risk of dropping her? Of hurting her with his talons or her slipping
off his back? Despite his earlier threat to carry her over as a whale he really
doesn't want to risk her being inside his mouth, and pushing the boat along
with his nose would make for an incredibly unstable ride.
"You just sit tight and I'll get us back to shore." Somehow.
Moana cautiously sits up, still cradling her stomach. "I'm sorry," she says, "I
thought it'd be okay."
"You didn't think at all," he says with a fond huff of air. The consequences of
her actions are never quite real to her until they're actually real. The wind's
against them, of course, so he angles the boat to start tacking in towards
shore.
There's no point asking if her water's broken or not- from how often she's
making pained noises he'd bet it has, but she was swimming for at least an
hour. Kind of hard to notice a bit extra water in the ocean.
"How're you doing? Talk to me," he says, eyes bouncing between her and the
waves.
"I'm never having sex again," she tells him.
Maui chuckles in reply. "Just think of the end result," he says.
"Another you," she says forlornly. "I'm definitely never having sex again."
"Hey, it'll be part you, too. Another little brat to run off to the ocean
against all common sense."
Moana doesn't reply, too busy heaving her entire body through what must be a
doozy of a contraction.
"You know," he says to the ocean conversationally, "You could help us out a
little." The water doesn't respond, either.
The wind's still against them but it's getting weaker and weaker, leaving them
in a lull, and Maui really does start to wonder if the gods are fucking with
him. He can't tell what he did to deserve this particular fate, however, or why
they had to drag Moana into it. "Oh come on!" he complains loudly, switching
from using the oar to steer and using it to paddle.
"Maui-ii!" she cries, voice high-pitched with pain, and his chest clenches
painfully.
"I don't think we're making it to shore in time," he says, meeting her eyes.
"No," Moana replies, panting as the wave of pain passes. "We're getting home
and I'm going to have my mom hold my hand, and aunt Kulaea is going to catch my
baby."
There's fiery determination in her eyes, but he looks away from her to where
Motunui is still much too far away and shakes his head.
"Not unless I try carrying you in," he says, and he's terrified of what that
might result in but he's equally terrified of the fact that it looks like he's
going to help her deliver her baby alone on a canoe in the middle of the ocean.
She groans in frustration or pain or both. "Get this thing out of me," she
says, "Make it stop."
Maui decides to give up on getting them to shore. The baby's coming way too
fast for him to make it in time, and if he keeps his hands busy trying to work
the sail he's not going to be able to help her.
"Alright," he says, abandoning the oar to crouch down next to her again. "We're
gonna have to do this here."
She breathes heavily, jaw clenched, and gives one sharp nod.
He's seen more than one birth, gotten up close and personal with them like this
a time or two as well, but it never fails to make him feel useless because
there really isn't anything he can do. Her body's going to squeeze out a kid as
best it can whether he's there or not.
"I hate you," Moana tells him.
"I hate me too," he says. It'll be alright, it's always alright (except when it
isn't, but he refuses to believe that Moana will be one of those cases), but
it's terrifying when it's happening anyway. "I need to see how far you're at,"
he says, putting a hand on her knee.
She nods, and he ducks down to see what's going on. There's some blood but not
a lot, and he probes a little bit until he can see that there is very
definitely a baby's head inside of her, and it's the miracle of life and all
that but it's also a bit horrifying to see; the delicate little body he knows
so well is currently trying to push out an entire human being.
"Doing good, champ," Maui says. "Doesn't look like a chicken at all."
She lets out a weak puff of laughter. "It'd better not."
"Can you get on your knees?" he asks. "Brace against the mast?"
Moana gives it a try and ends up in an awkward sort-of-kneeling position,
shoulders pressed to the spar and a hand gripping the sail like a lifeline.
It's slightly better than having her flat on the deck though, actually lets him
have a shot at catching the baby without lying flat on his belly himself.
Movement catches his eye and he sees that the ocean has curled up a wave, like
it wants to see what's going on. It could push them back to shore in no time
but no, it apparently would rather this happen out on its waves. He wishes he
was more surprised. "You don't even have eyes," he snipes at it.
"I'd rather fight a lava monster," Moana says around a gasp, snapping his
attention back to her. "Go up against the crab again."
He nods and says some sort of meaningless reply about breathing, shoving the
ocean out of his thoughts to instead focus on the baby making its way out of
her body. It's pretty gross to watch but he gets his hands down there, looks up
to meet her eyes. "Ready? You're nearly there."
She scrunches up her face but nods, and yells right into his ear as she pushes
and pushes and pushes in waves, gasping for air in between. It doesn't look
like it'll happen, looks like her body just isn't going to be able to handle
this, but then suddenly the baby's head is slipping out of her and into his
hands, the rest of the body following after one last push.
She collapses back against the mast, breathing harshly. The baby starts
wailing.
"Give me my baby," she says, reaching down towards it.
Maui cradles it carefully in his hands for a moment, checking that it's all
there and marveling at the fact that it's alive. Then he passes it to her, and
she immediately presses it to her middle and wraps it in her hands. The cord's
still attached, and he'll have to deal with that in a minute but right now all
his attention is on the tiny wailing red-ish thing in her arms, slimy and gross
with birth gunk and squished up into wrinkles and absolutely, hideously,
perfect.
"Hey," she croons down to the baby, which is slowly winding down from offended
screams to hiccuping little sobs. "Hi baby. Mom's got you. You're okay now."
"He got your hair, Curly," Maui says, very carefully putting his hand on the
back of his baby's soft squishy head. His son's head, if he isn't mistaken.
She makes a weird sort of noise, like a laugh and a sob but weak, tired. "Maybe
he is the ocean's after all," she says. Moana adjusts the baby's position so
he's facing away from her chest, looking with tired bleary eyes out on the
world. Bleary eyes that are clear blue, like the water surrounding them.
Maui falls back and barks out a laugh. "Only you, Moana, only you."
 
Moana turns out to be more willing to take a couple of days off now that she's
actually had the kid, taking it easy surrounded by the other women of the
village for the most part.
"Maybe two months," she says, tickling the baby's belly while he squirms
fitfully. "Manaia's just so small..."
"I told you," Maui says smugly, and she rolls her eyes at him. There's a new
mark on him, a symbol for his newest son, and that seems to be as much proof as
they're going to get that Manaia is indeed his instead of the ocean's. He's
surprisingly okay with it.
He really is tiny, or so it seems to Maui. He could cradle him entirely in one
of his hands if it wasn't for the whole floppy-neck thing, though taking into
account how often and how greedily he eats, that won't stay true for very much
longer.
"I was talking with my great-uncle," Moana says, "And he said Gramma Tala was
born with blue eyes, too. Then they turned brown when she got older."
He nods, not really concerned, and bops his son's nose with a careful finger.
Manaia waves his hands up in response, way too weak and uncoordinated still to
really do much more, and Maui smiles so wide his lips hurt.
 
Chapter End Notes
     "Manaia" in Samoan is associated with various meanings such as
     "beautiful, good" and "seahorse, lizard" as well as a ceremonial
     title given to a chief's son. In Māori it's the name of a being
     depicted as having various human and animal attributes, who is able
     to travel between the human and spirit worlds and is a common art
     motif. Additionally, "Manaiakalani" is the Hawaiian name for Maui's
     fishhook, both the real deal and the constellation.
     I don't know what language they're speaking on Motunui but I just
     could not resist.
***** Chapter 10 *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry for the slight delay, but here we are at last! Thanks everyone
     for sticking it out with me, your responses mean a lot to me & have
     made working on this fic really rewarding~ ❤❤❤
After about three weeks of being a new mom, he'd say the lack of sleep's gotten
to her. They have it pretty good, actually- any number of people in the village
are glad to take Manaia for a few hours, and he hasn't been colicky so far- but
he still needs to wake up in the middle of the night to be fed and cleaned and
generally fussed over. One of those things Maui definitely can't help with.
Moana shoves the baby into his arms, eyes wild around the edges. "Take him,"
she says, "He likes you better anyway."
He fumbles the hold for a split-second, but has him tucked up securely against
his chest before anything bad can happen. She's already turned and walking
away.
Maui looks down at Manaia, blinking wide-eyed and innocent, complacent rather
than fussy and squirming for once. The swaddling around his hips doesn't even
need to be changed yet. "Have you been causing trouble?" he asks.
Manaia doesn't respond.
Well, it's not like he had any plans for the day that can't handle having a
baby along. He watches Moana from a distance as she gets up onto one of the
fishing boats- not headed out of the lagoon, he's relieved to see- and settles
himself down where a group of women are weaving thatch for a house that's due
to be re-roofed.
There are only two other women on this island who have babies young enough that
they're still breastfeeding and if Moana plans to be gone all day, as he thinks
she does, he wants to make sure he's in their good graces so he maybe doesn't
have to fill Manaia's belly with plain water.
Tying thatch is not really the sort of work men do, let alone demigods, but
Maui has a diverse array of skills. He sets his son down on a soft bundle of
tapa next to him and weaves and gossips, charming the women at all the right
points.
When Moana finally comes back in from the sea in the late afternoon she scoops
Manaia up in her arms but seems just as unsettled as when she left.
"Good fishing?" he asks, pressing a kiss to her cheek that she brushes off.
"Fine," she says. "Was he fussy?"
Maui shakes his head, and ruffles a finger through Manaia's thinning hair. Such
a shame that he's losing the wisps he'd been born with, but he's hoping the
second crop will do his name proud. "Not much," he replies. "Seini let him
nurse 'bout an hour ago, so he'll be down for a nap soon."
"You could have waited for me to feed him," she says with a sour frown.
He doesn't really understand why she's so cross. "I didn't know when you'd be
back, fearless fisherwoman. He was hungry and she was willing."
She blows out a breath but doesn't say anything else about it. Moana rocks
Manaia back and forth in her arms, mimicking the sway of waves against a canoe
at sea. He wonders if she realizes what she's doing.
The rocking only abates at dinner, when Sina coos at the baby and coaxes Moana
to give him up for her to hold.
Maui bumps his arm against hers and holds out a dish with chicken in it for her
to pick at- sadly not that too-dumb-to-live chicken, which she's still refusing
to let anyone cook. She needs to eat more than she has been, in his opinion,
but actually saying anything about it just gets him shut down.
Tonight she actually finishes her entire plate, and he doesn't want to say but
he wonders if it has anything to do with the lack of a baby's weight against
her chest as he rests in a sling. When the meal's over with she goes to take
Manaia back from her mother, only to be denied.
"Nope," Sina says, curling her arm so the baby is out of easy reach. "He's
staying with his grandparents tonight."
Moana shakes her head. "He's not old enough to be away that long," she says.
You were gone from him all day, Maui thinks but wisely does not say.
"One night of water and coconut milk won't hurt him," Sina replies. "You need
some sleep, and you-" she looks pointedly between the two of them- "need to
talk, I think."
Maui puts his hand on Moana's shoulder a bit cautiously, unsure if she's
actually unhappy with him enough to stay grumpy. She twitches a little, but
doesn't shrug the touch off entirely. "She has a point," he says. "And just
think: we won't have to clean him up in the dark for once."
"Alright," Moana says grudgingly. He squeezes her shoulder; her muscles are
tense as her mother bundles the baby away. Their houses are separated by only a
few paces and a bush or two, plenty close if against the odds something does go
wrong, but it'll be the first night they haven't had Manaia sleeping between
them since he was born.
The house feels a little bit empty when they turn in for the night, though it
isn't as if a baby takes up that much space. He's being ridiculous.
"Hey," he says, and she looks over at him. "We've got the bed all to ourselves
again." He adds in an eyebrow waggle, silly enough for her to laugh off as a
joke if she wants, though he's perfectly serious about the fact that he
wouldn't mind taking this rare opportunity to have some form of sex if she's up
for it- she could probably stand to be rubbed off by now, he thinks.
She looks at the mats and wraps an arm around her middle. "Yeah," she says
tonelessly.
Maui sighs internally; this is going to be another serious emotions talk, he's
sure of it, because something has very obviously been bothering her but he
doesn't know what it is.
"Hey," he says again, pitching his voice to be gentle. He puts a hand on her
arm and when she doesn't shrug him off he folds her up into a hug. "Come sit
with me?"
She's tense in his arms for the span of a few heartbeats, and then he feels her
start to relax. He leads Moana down to their bed and pulls her into his lap,
keeping his arms around her. She curls up against him, head resting against his
chest, and he rubs a hand up and down her back.
"What's eating you, huh?"
She shakes her head, fingers tracing the patterns on his skin.
He jostles her just a little. "Do I need to slay any monsters? Tame any winds?"
She huffs an unamused breath.
"Maybe you remembered how ugly Tamatoa is," Maui continues, "or stubbed your
toe on a rogue taro root." She still isn't looking at him and her expression is
growing annoyed now. "I can keep going..."
He waits, but she stays clammed up. Alright, challenge accepted. "You found out
that the chicken's secretly a genius who's been playing us all along? Hooked a
mythical fish, but it ate your canoe. Haven't knocked around enough Kakamora
lately? You realized that your hair-"
"I don't love him!" Moana blurts out, and then immediately claps a hand over
her mouth.
And with that, he's heard enough to have sudden clarity about what's been
bothering her. It's not really something he's had up-close-and-personal
experience with before, but he knows the general gist of things. "Hey," he
says, trying to keep his voice from going too soft because he doesn't want her
to think he's just humoring her here. "Would you believe me if I said that's
okay?"
She finally rolls her head to look him in the eye, tired and utterly
disbelieving. "I don't love our baby and you say that's okay."
"Well it is," he says. "Do you love everyone you've just met?"
"That's not the same thing," she says.
"Why not? You've known him for three weeks, Mo. And honestly, babies are really
boring and tiresome when they're that young. Cute, sure, but so much work."
"He can tell," she says, "That's why he likes you better."
Maui can't resist chuckling a little. "He'll like you better next week, and his
grandma the week after that- babies are fickle." He would joke about being
everyone's favorite, but he doesn't think it would go over well at the moment.
"Do you still want him?"
"Yes," she replies immediately, unthinkingly. So that's pretty good then.
"Well okay," he says. "So what if you don't love him like you thought you would
right away? You have your entire lifetime to get to know him. Don't be so hard
on yourself because it's only been a couple of weeks."
He's going to pretend he doesn't feel a stab of emotion at the words 'entire
lifetime'. That's an issue for another day. Preferably a day that never comes.
"And nine months," Moana says. She's not curled up quite so tight and
miserable, but she doesn't look like she's fully on board with things yet.
"You didn't know you were pregnant for at least three of those; I was there,"
he points out. "And anyway, that's like trying to get to know your stomach, or
your toe. Manaia wasn't a person 'till he was born, and even now he's only
something like a quarter of one."
"That's terrible," she says like she desperately doesn't want to find the
statement amusing.
"Well, I suppose he gets a leg up on account of his dad being a demigod and
all. So maybe closer to a third, by mortal standards."
She shakes her head at him and finally stops restlessly tracing over his
tattoos. "How come you love him, then? You do, don't you?"
"I'm a very loving person," Maui replies grandly. He squeezes her shoulder. "I
look at him and I see you," he says with more seriousness, "And I see us, and
the start of our family. Do I love Manaia because of who he is as a person?
Maybe, but maybe not yet. I'm just not beating myself up over it."
"You don't beat yourself up over anything," she says.
He raises an eyebrow and feels Mini-Maui obligingly come to life for him.
"Which one of us can physically get beat up by a version of themselves?"
Moana watches as two of the tattoos on his chest face off, posing like at any
moment they'll launch into punching one another. She snorts in amusement, and
he feels a layer of worry melt away. "That doesn't count," she says, tone
lighter than it has been all day.
"Doesn't it?"
Both Mini-Mauis abruptly kick out, and the impact of their little ink feet has
him letting out a heartfelt, "Ow! You didn't have to actually hit me, guys."
But it's made Moana crack an honest smile, though it's admittedly pretty small
and subdued, so he's willing to let it slide. "Your mom was serious about
needing sleep, by the way. You get pretty cranky when you're tired. Also: dark
circles."
She huffs and shoves at his chest in offence, but doesn't contradict him.
 

"Your son's picked up a new trick," Moana tells him, and Maui of course puts
down the rope he was braiding to come see. "Wanna show Daddy?" she croons to
the baby, and uses the hand not cradling him to tickle his round little belly.
Manaia squirms a little and then his mouth curls up into a smile, his entire
face lighting up in a way that is unmistakably not just from a bit of trapped
wind.
"That's great!" Maui says, absolutely delighted with this new development. He
crouches down to be eye-level with the little squirt and makes a few silly
faces at him, grinning when he sees Manaia react with more smiles. "What a
handsome guy," he says in that silly baby-voice he refuses to be embarrassed
about, "What a little heart-breaker!"
"Mom says he still won't laugh for a while," she says, and he glances up at her
before blowing a noisy kiss on Manaia's belly. The baby gurgles happily, but
it's definitely not a laugh.
"You've got time to work on your stand-up routine," Maui agrees, straightening
back up and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. His baby's already starting
to grow up and it's amazing, of course- the day-to-day changes are nothing but
line them all up and it's incredible how far he's come already- but it's also
terrible in a way, another reminder of encroaching mortality as if he could
ever forget. He is glad at least that he's here to see, that he isn't off
somewhere missing out on things like Manaia's first smiles, whether out of
ignorance or cowardice.
 

The ships are due to be launched on the next full moon if the winds stay
favorable and there isn't much to do that hasn't been done already; even Manaia
is being handled by some relative or other while they lounge around in the heat
of the day, half dozing.
"Can I eat you out?" Maui's been thinking about it for a while, wondering what
she's okay with and if she's going to be the type to gets put off sex entirely-
he doesn't think so, with how eager she always was before the birth, but you
never know.
Moana raises herself up onto her elbows to look at him. "You actually want to
have sex with me?"
"Well, yeah," he says, confused as to why she seems disbelieving. "Whatever
you're game for."
"But I look..." She trails off, glancing down at herself and grimacing a
little.
Maui waits for her to finish the thought, but she doesn't. "You look like you
had a baby," he says, "Which you did. I was there."
She doesn't look convinced of his interest, so he moves until he's lying next
to her side. "You're mortal," he says, suppressing anything else the words my
dredge up because now is not the time, "Your body changes. It's sort of a
thing. If you never want to have sex again I will sigh and get used to my hand,
but if you're holding back because you don't look as awesome as I do, don't
worry about it."
"You've have sex with yourself if you could, wouldn't you?" she says,
sidestepping everything else he's said.
"Well, duh," he replies anyway. Who wouldn't find him sexy?
Moana rolls her eyes at him, but he'd like to call the look on her face fond.
Then she drops her gaze. "Can I keep my clothes on?"
She'd started wearing dresses that cover her stomach after the birth, and he'd
wondered a bit if it was to hide her still-recovering belly or if it was a
cultural thing on the island for mothers, like how all the women seem to wear
tops all the time. He guesses he has at least a halfway better idea of the
answer now.
"Of course," he says easily. The whole point is for her to enjoy it, and if
that means covering herself? Well, he has a pretty decent memory. He'll
survive.
She looks just a bit relieved and he leans over to kiss her, glad to feel her
lips against his again. They've kissed, sure, but not with the intent to build
up heated arousal. Maui takes care not to touch her breasts with anything but
the lightest brushes because they're still off-limits and sore besides, and now
he similarly skips over her stomach, instead running his hand along her hip,
down her thigh, kisses the bare skin of her neck and shoulder.
It takes longer now for her to really get into it but eventually she starts
kissing back with real passion, a few quiet noises escaping her lips now and
then.
"The screens," she says while he sucks a mark onto her neck, just deep enough
to be seen for a day or two. He hums against her skin, not seeing the problem.
The screens facing the street are down already to block out the angle of
sunlight and practically no one is going to be coming from the forest side.
"Maui, come on."
She pushes at his shoulder and he moves away.
"No one's gonna see," he says. If she's adamant about it he'll back off, but
she hadn't seemed to mind the other times they've fucked when someone could, in
theory, see them.
Moana looks around the house; there really isn't much the ordinary passer-by
can see when they have those screens down, and it isn't as if they won't be
hearing her either way. She doesn't nod her head or anything but she pulls him
in for another kiss, which is just as good of an agreement.
They're usually pretty fast and frantic, hands and mouths and fingers roaming
in a matter of minutes. He forces himself to slow down, wants to make sure
she's really enjoying herself.
His attempt at being thoughtful only serves to make her impatient, because of
course it does.
"I thought you said you were going to lick me," she says, one of her hands
guiding his down between her skirts.
Maui huffs and licks a stripe on the side of her cheek. "How's that?"
"You're so gross," she says, rubbing at the mark with her other hand, "I don't
know why I love you."
"Me either," he says, voice just a smidge too honest. He kisses her before it
has any time to register, until she's gasping. The skin of her thighs is soft,
and when his fingers climb up high enough he finds hair, and beyond that a hot
cleft.
The folds of her pussy are pretty dry when he probes a questioning finger,
which isn't as big a hit to his ego as it could have been- stuff gets weird for
a while after childbirth, he doesn't take it personally. He pulls off her mouth
regretfully, takes in her expression. Nothing to suggest the touch is
uncomfortable which means all systems go. He slides down until he's level with
her navel and lightly kisses the lingering bump of her belly through the fabric
of her dress, but moves on before he makes her selfconscious.
Moana lets him undo her skirts enough that he doesn't have grass tickling his
face while he goes down on her, which he appreciates. He parts the lips of her
pussy carefully, knowing it'll look the same as before but still having some
part of his brain shove pictures of the birth at him. But there's only familiar
soft folds, delicate and reddish like the best kind of flower.
He wraps his hands around her thighs and uses his thumbs to hold her open,
licking a big stripe up the length of her cunt.
She makes a breathy noise of surprise and jerks a little, but doesn't try and
pull away or anything. Maui repeats the motion a few times, just warming her up
at first, before he starts to focus on her clit. She shivers at that, legs
opening a bit wider around him.
It takes some more time, some more care, before he feels her starting to really
respond to him, pushing her hips into him and moaning. He teases at her
entrance with his tongue but doesn't go inside, isn't sure if she's ready for
that. She comes with a long relieved moan, pussy pulsing against him as he
continues lapping at her.
When she's done he pulls away far enough to speak clearly. "Good? More?"
"I want your fingers inside me," Moana tells him, a whine in her voice.
"You sure?" She'd gotten decently slick on her own after a while, but the last
thing she had inside of her was a baby- he'd understand if she wanted a bit
more time to recover from that.
"I want your dick," she says, "But I'm settling for a few fingers."
Oh that sends a hot pulse of want through him. His cock's crushed against the
rough floor mats under him, halfway hard since pretty much as soon as he
started, and now he ruts his hips down for a bit of friction. "Maybe next
time," he says. "See how this goes."
She huffs, "That's what I said."
Maui nips his teeth against the thin skin of her thigh and she kicks her leg
out, foot smacking into his side.
"You're horrible," she tells him, and he smiles.
He puts his mouth back on her, apologizes for the nip with his lips and tongue,
and then slides his hand over so he can circle around her opening with a
fingertip. She makes an impatient noise and bucks up against him so he enters
her with his finger, glad to find that she's really as wet inside as she'd
seemed. He'll still make sure they have some oil on hand for next time if she's
serious about being ready to take his cock, because the last thing he wants is
to go too fast and turn her off sex entirely.
Moana sighs and rocks her hips, no signs of discomfort that he can tell. He's
careful about curling his fingertip up anyway, looking for her sensitive spots
without wanting to agitate any lingering soreness there might be.
"Another," she says, "I won't break."
No, he supposes, a finger isn't likely to be her undoing after that. He adds a
second and she lets out a quiet moan, and he focuses on getting her to come for
him again, rubbing with his fingers and licking and sucking with his mouth.
She's so hot against him, so eager despite her earlier reservations.
"One more," she says, "C'mon."
Maui hesitates, but she does seem to be enjoying herself. He slides a third
finger in alongside the first two and barely gets to think about how tight it
makes her feel because she's hissing in pain.
"No, no, out."
He removes all of his fingers just in case, pulls his mouth off her. "You
okay?"
She huffs, frustration in the noise. "Maybe not all three yet."
"You always were greedy," he says. He hadn't heard any serious pain in her
voice, just irritation. Still, he waits for her to call the next shot.
"You don't have to stop completely," Moana says. "And hurry up, 'cause I want
to suck you."
He puffs out an amused breath, raising an eyebrow to himself when the air
against her pussy makes her shiver a little and marking that down for future
exploration. He scales back to two fingers and plys her with his tongue again,
bringing her up to a second orgasm and then pulling her straight through to a
third, until she's shaking and crying out his name.
She reaches down and pushes his head away from her and he goes willingly
enough, sucking clean the fingers that had been inside of her and then moving
up the length of her body, covering her from view while he kisses her panting
mouth.
"You're so good to me," she sighs.
Maui takes the praise to heart, but it's one of the overly-honest statements
that make strange things happen inside of himself. "You're welcome," he replies
with an attempt at smugness, and she half-hitches a smile like she can see
right through him.
"Now roll over," she says, "My turn."
 

"Are we there yet?" he calls up to Moana, balancing Manaia against his chest
while he looks at her clinging to the top of the mast.
Maui can't see her expression from here but he can imagine it, and grins as she
swings down using a loose line, landing gracefully on the deck of the canoe.
"If you ask that one more time, I'm throwing you overboard," she tells him
cheerfully while she takes the baby from him. "I'm going to throw your dad
overboard, I am!" she repeats, this in a sing-song tone for the benefit of
Manaia, who burbles some spit meaninglessly in reply.
"I mean, if you want me to scout ahead..." he says, though they've already
agreed that he isn't going to help with the wayfinding at all, other than to
follow whatever course she's laid out for them.
"Oh, go stretch your wings," Moana says. "You're driving me nuts." She's
smiling as she says it though, relaxed now that she's out on the ocean again,
now that she and the people of Motunui are voyaging like they're meant to be.
He kisses her cheek in thanks and goes to grab his hook from the storage cubby,
careful not to disturb any of the supplies it's tucked in with. Then he's
jumping up into the air with a cheerful shout, unfurling wings and shaking out
his feathers. Like this he could zip ahead of the fleet of boats and see where
exactly her path is taking them, as if he doesn't already have a general idea,
but... he likes the idea of there being some mystery to it.
Maui instead circles around the great voyaging canoes, splashing up water or
calling down to the people on deck now and again.
He likes seeing them like this, a village reclaiming something so essential
that they hadn't even known they'd lost. And it's thanks to him, but also Moana
as well. Even with a few more monsters in the ocean than usual plenty of other
islands still made voyages between their close neighbors, but these people had
all but forgotten there was an entire world out beyond the reef and he loves to
see Moana at the oar now, steering them towards the far horizon.
He doesn't feel as itchy about moving within mortal limitations now that he's
out on the ocean, and after he teases some of the kids who came along for a
while he returns to the main canoe and changes back to his human skin, so he
can stand with Moana and their baby as they watch the light on the waves.
 

He's pretty sure his chest is going to overflow with pride when there's an
island on the horizon that Moana's led them to, and he turns to see her face,
wanting to memorialize her expression in his memories forever. Her disbelief
turns to joy, and a fierce sort of accomplishment.
"You didn't cheat, did you?" she asks, glancing over at him.
"I'm a demigod of my word," he says. He'd subtly reminded her of what signs to
look for that indicate a landmass, but it had been entirely her decisions that
guided their course.
Her smile is blinding as they finally come close enough to make out the clean
white shore, the dark spaces between the trees just begging to be explored.
Maui's own face, however, goes stricken when he realizes something. "Mo!" She
turns to him, smile dampened with concern. "We forgot to take cuttings of your
flower bush."
Moana relaxes a bit to laugh, shaking her head. He hefts Manaia a little higher
on his chest and tries not to feel insulted that he's being laughed at; he's
honestly disappointed that he forgot, after all that work he put into it in the
first place.
"Relax," she says, and steps in close to him. Her hand goes to the shell around
her neck and she opens it, revealing a handful of little white seeds. "I wanted
to take these with me anyway," she says, something shy in her voice under the
amusement.
Maui leans down and plants a kiss on her cheek. "You're so good to me."
"You're welcome," she says smarmily, and since he's the one holding the baby he
pushes her into the water for old time's sake, her laughing the entire way
down.
End Notes
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