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The Consequences of Eavesdropping

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Maui sat by himself on the beach, staring out at the horizon. It was warm, quiet, a beautiful view, everything a demigod could ask for when relaxing.

But Maui was anything but relaxed. No, he was tense, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything because his mind kept sailing back to them.

Moana and Tamatoa. They were somewhere else on the island, away from him, probably together, and probably doing things that he definitely did not approve of.

It was kind of annoying.

Maui had known all about the shenanigans Tamatoa had gotten up to as a younger, smaller crab. He had been well-aware that leaving him alone on an island with a human woman was inviting disaster. Except that the woman was Moana. Moana, the most sensible person in the world, who could speak to his heart and soul in a way that no one, even the gods and goddesses, ever had before. And Maui had believed that she would be sensible enough not to start sleeping with a shrunken monster crab.

He had believed wrong.

Or maybe it wasn’t that Moana wasn’t sensible, because in every other respect she certainly was. No, Maui couldn’t put this situation on her. So he would put it on Tamatoa instead. Tamatoa, the thieving, salacious, incorrigible crab!

Maui huffed in annoyance, and made to stand up and hunt them down and tell them to just stop already! But halfway to his knees he stopped, and sank back down. No, he had to remind himself: Moana is a grown woman, who can make her own decisions, and Tamatoa isn’t forcing her or hurting her and Maui may want to protect her from everything, forever, but he also knows that, really, he can’t.

Maui’s own relationship with Moana hadn’t developed in that direction, and he was perfectly okay with that. Moana was almost like a sister to him now, even when they went years between visits. They could always pick up and continue on right where they’d left off. Every time he found her again, it was homecoming the likes of which he hadn’t seen in centuries. It wasn’t romantic, and it definitely wasn’t sexual, but it was certainly love.

So having his trash-heap-scavenger former best friend horning into that relationship was enough to put Maui a little on edge.

He jumped to his feet again, antsy and directionless. He paced to the water, muttering his favorite epithets toward the monster crab, then turned and marched back to his indentation in the sand, swearing to avenge Moana’s honor. Then back to the water as he thought up increasingly painful tortures to visit upon Tamatoa, and back up again imagining the platitudes he’d need to offer Moana.

He stopped. He was breathing hard, anger and jealousy bubbling up inside. Part of him wanted to let it go, push it down and step away, and let the two of them enjoy each other for a few more weeks before he dragged Tamatoa along with him back to Te Fiti.

But most of him was worked up into a righteous fit and he desperately felt the need to find those two and give them a piece of his mind.

With an unpleasantly dark war-cry, Maui brandished his fishhook and shapeshifted into his favored hawk form. He launched himself into the sky with a mighty leap and quickly gained altitude, using the winds racing above the water to push himself higher and higher. When he was above even with the highest peak of the mountain, he began circling, taking advantage of the hawk’s sharp eyesight and acute hearing to search the two wily miscreants out.

This island wasn’t the biggest one out there; not even as big as Motunui. But it was still big enough, and densely packed with trees, that it took Maui so long to find his quarry that he had begun having doubts. What was he going to do? Swoop down and physically separate them? Like they were two fighting children? He knew he shouldn’t be so patronizing, at least not over Moana. And besides, what if they were right in the middle of-

...Of that. Oh, there they were.

Embarrassment and anger fought viciously against each other. On the one wing, he, uh, realized now that he probably shouldn’t be interrupting that. On the other hand, that involved seeing Moana on her knees with Tamatoa looming over her. Her naked buttocks were pressed firmly against the trunk of a mulberry tree, against which the dirty crab had leveraged himself, at an angle, his claws and front leg grasping the lowest branches. The triangle of space between monster and tree was small, but just enough for a young woman to get her mouth to a certain height.

And, apparently, put it to good use.

As Maui watched, circling a good distance away, he realized he could hear something, as well. Singing. With a start and a flutter of feathers, he realized that Tamatoa was singing while Moana was on her knees sucking him off. And as the lyrics registered, anger began to win out over embarrassment.

“Somewhere, down on her knees, somewhere, pleasuring me!”

Ooohhh, no. Hell no. That filthy scavenging crab had better not be-

“My lover kneels on golden sand! And uses her lips, to set me sailing~!”

Rage flooded through Maui. How dare that pestilent excuse for a monster mock Moana in this way! He shifted, angling toward he pair, and prepared for a dive. But just then, another sound reached him: Moana. She was giggling.

As quickly as it came, the anger left. Not entirely, it still simmered close to the surface. But it wasn’t burning through him anymore. And, heavily, Maui acknowledged that no matter his feelings in the matter, he had no place interfering in Moana’s decisions. Maybe if Tamatoa became truly dangerous, but… not like this. Not when she was enjoying herself.

...But maybe he should stick around, just to make sure. Just in case.

His dive had perhaps been called off, but Maui was still swooping right over the two, even if a hundred feet up. He dipped to gain some speed and sped past, then flared his wings to catch a rising air thermal and rode it up, letting it carry him to a handy ledge on the island’s mountain. He landed and looked back, letting his hawk-eyed vision zero in on the pair.

They were… still at it. He sighed, feathers ruffling in agitation. Tamatoa was still propped upright, still singing, and Moana was still beneath him enthusiastically using her mouth on his not-standard-crab equipment. Monsters, ugh. She had one hand propped against his abdomen and the other… If Maui could blush as a hawk, he would have. Her other hand was between her legs, rubbing slow circles in her special spot. But that was when he noticed something else down there. Tamatoa’s antennae were cast forward and draped to either side of Moana’s waist, before curving back up between her legs, a little further back from her hand. They were moving in counterpoint to each other, and he didn’t need to stretch his imagination very far to figure out what they were up to. Even as a small tide of “ew, gross!” washed over him, he couldn’t help but give the crab credit for dexterity and creativity.

And Moana… she was quite obviously enjoying herself. Her head bobbed up and down the length of Tamatoa’s… thing, whatever he called it, and her whole body rippled with the movement. Maui fixedly turned his angry, burning gaze onto the crab instead, too embarrassed to linger on Moana herself. The singing continued, slightly fainter for the extra distance but just as clear.

“Somewhere that I can see, she’s there looking at me!” Tamatoa’s head lolled back, taking his own greedy eyes off of his partner, but still singing. “If I could fly like hawks on high, then straight to her arms, I’d go sailing~!”

Now wait just a minute-!

Tamatoa was looking right at him. The stupid monster crab was meeting Maui’s hawk eyes across all the distance, and smirking at the demigod even as he continued to sing, and Moana continued to giggle, and what he allowed himself to see of those antennae kept moving in a way that seemed pretty darn mocking.

Maui couldn’t remember ever feeling so enraged.

He watched as Tamatoa bent down and whispered something to Moana (he still wouldn’t look at her, no thank you!) and then cast that smirk back at him. He had never seen Tamatoa look so smug. Maui’s blood boiled, and a torrent of vengeful thoughts took up occupancy in his mind as the crab began singing again.

“Somewhere, beyond the- eeep!”

Tamatoa yelped, eyes bugging out. His claws, still holding onto the mulberry branches, squeezed hard. A single limb cracked and fell crashing to the ground.

Silence reigned.

What… what had just happened? Did he even want to know?

Slowly, Tamatoa turned back to look at Moana, a look of horrified astonishment splashed across his face. Despite himself, Maui followed his gaze, to find Moana grinning up at the crab, lips spread wide and teeth-



Moana kept giggling as Tamatoa kept singing, his two antennae buried within her sex creating a delightful counterpoint rhythm as they moved, tips curving up in just the right places to give her tiny little shivers of pleasure. Her laughter made it hard to be effective at her task, but neither of them were in any hurry and it was fun besides.

She wasn’t sure what to make of the taste of him. She had expected something like, well, seafood, but he wasn’t like that at all. A little like coconut milk, a little like sea salt, but mostly some flavor she had never before encountered but somehow reminded her of Lalotai. Dark and vivid and full of unseen things.

The texture of him was smooth and slick - easy to describe - but also unexpectedly heavy, like there was stone inside of him instead of flesh, but not so rigid - even given his current state of firm arousal. No, instead, as she moved her mouth up and down the length of his gonopod, it flexed with her movements, tickled down the back of her throat, gave when she pressed with her tongue. She had never been with a human man, but she had gossiped with other young women. Moana had a working understanding of how said human men were supposed to work.

Tamatoa… was not like that. And it was unexpectedly thrilling.

So Moana licked, slurped, hummed, and giggled, lighthearted and happy, keeping her teeth carefully away from the sensitive organ. She chuckled along as she listened to the crab’s singing, cheerfully moving against him and circling her own clitoris to enhance her pleasure.

She had only just registered a pause in the dirty lyrics when his head leaned down, closer to her, and he murmured, without preamble, “Maui’s watching us.”

Moana could hear the unspoken boast in his voice, and it floated around her mind before his words finally settled and made sense. Confusion washed over her first - why on Earth would Maui be watching them? - before comprehension clicked. She paused, mouth stretched wide around Tamatoa’s moist gonopod, and opened her eyes. She couldn’t see Maui from this angle, but she could see Tamatoa, could see the smug smirk he was casting off to the side, and sudden anger suffused through her.

Anger at Maui, intruding onto her privacy. And anger at Tamatoa, too, for unnameable reasons that circled around “why is he making a joke of this?” and “why is he paying more attention to Maui than to me?”

Well. She’d have to fix that.

Tamatoa had begun singing again, despite her stillness. She resumed her rhythm as well, for just a moment, before she pulled her lips back.

She hadn’t ever heard the whole story behind it, but she remembered with perfect clarity the near-panic that had manifested when she nearly went down on him while he was on his back: Tamatoa was wary, to put it mildly, of having his gonopod bitten off.

Moana would never dream of actually doing that, or even threatening it, but giving Tamatoa a little hint to remind him of where his attention should be? That she could do.

Moana dragged her teeth, ever so slightly, against the shaft in her mouth, knowing it would get his attention more effectively than anything else.

Much as expected, Tamatoa yelped and went still. Then, a moment later, she heard the loud crash of a tree branch falling behind her.

Good, she thought.

Moana continued in her previous, gentle manner for a full ten seconds. When she reached the tip, she gave a little nibble, just with her top teeth, before swallowing back down, the smooth glide of the gonopod rubbing against her tongue and the roof of her mouth a sensual delight all its own. She squeezed her inner muscles ever-so-slightly against the antennae still within her, a silent demand that they resume as well. Stutteringly, they did, and she sighed with pleasure, fingers once more circling her clit.

She looked up at Tamatoa then, certain that her eyes were doe-eyed wide and innocently amorous. Tamatoa, for his part, was looking down at her, slack-jawed and body tensed. He looked like he wanted to run, actually, but dared not.

Moana grinned, lips pulling back in a wide smile, and let her teeth press just a hair’s breadth down. Only for a moment, not even a second, before she lifted her mouth completely and gave a long, wet lick up the underside of the gonopod.

Tamatoa gulped, and shivered.

Satisfied, Moana closed her eyes again and got back to work. Teeth once more safely covered, she nodded down, taking the length deep into her mouth, tracing spiraling circles with her tongue. The tip nudged into the back of her throat; she took a deep breath through her nose then swallowed, sinking ever deeper onto the engorged flesh, her lips, tongue, and throat all working in tandem. Above her she heard Tamatoa whine, and the antennae within her fell still again. She hummed (which caused another gasp) and shook her head, marvelling at how the length could bend with her as she did so, then squeezed her inner muscles again, reminding him that he had a job to do. Slowly, hesitatingly, they moved. At first the two moved together, sliding in and out much like the gonopod itself would. The texture of the antennae, slightly rough from sensory pores and ridged into segments, allowing for great flexibility, was very different, however, and allowed for a wider range of sensation as they thrust. She didn’t have much room to maneuver herself, caught between the tree and the crab as she was, so Moana was forced to rely on Tamatoa’s own ingenuity down there.

She must have been persuasive, too, because he finally started to deliver.

Moana had to come up for air then, but her own inhale became a gasp as the rhythm within her changed; once again the antennae began to move in counterpoint, one thrusting in while the other slid out. She warmed from sensation and friction both, her sensitive flesh catching on each ridge, small tug after small tug in opposing directions. And with each thrust in, the tip of each antenna would flick, rubbing against a small but intensely pleasurable spot deep within her.

It felt good, really really good, and it could have been enough to drive her to distraction if she weren’t so stubborn.

With wild abandon, Moana again went down upon Tamatoa’s slick length, enjoying the sensations of fullness in both her mouth and her sex. Double the fun, she thought deliriously, and circled her tongue around the tip, prodding at the slim opening as a thin, slippery, and tangy substance began to leak out.

The antennae within her seemed to redouble their efforts, and her hovering hand fell away to join the other in bracing herself against Tamatoa’s abdomen. Her head bobbed, tongue moving even faster, up and down and up and down, the firm, heavy slickness an incredible sensation within her, her lips stretched wide and throat working to take all of it in. Her hips jerked, beyond her control, trying to match the rhythm of the antennae, but she only accomplished pressing herself ever more firmly against the bark of the tree behind her, the discrepancy of sensation adding an entirely new level of pleasure to the experience.

Tamatoa must have understood her intentions, however, as the antennae began to dip deeper and deeper into her. She moaned around the firm gonopod, jaw working, and the length of it twitched against her tongue. But she barely noticed, distracted as the antennae took turns reaching new depths within her. The slide of their heavily-textured surface created a fire within her, a line of heat that trailed deeply into her belly. Her opening was stretched wide as the thickness increased with each new thrust, and with every in and every out came a flick against the special spot within her.

Moana was so full. Tamatoa was everywhere, inside her everywhere, above her, no longer singing but making desperate, delighted noises that seemed to echo everywhere around her. He was leaking again, that sweet, tangy substance that she’d had spill inside of her but never tasted before now, and she swallowed it down, swallowed him down, forgetting to breathe first but she was too overcome with sensation to care-

Both antennae thrust into her, together, going as deep as before, and the sudden rush of stretch around each and every ridge was enough to send Moana spiraling into orgasm, pleasure crashing through her, what was left of her breath breaking free in a shout around the gonopod still deep down her throat, and she may have choked had Tamatoa not shifted slightly. Moana arched, her back bowing but head falling down. Her lips were still spread wide around Tamatoa’s length but she could breathe, and moan, and lap at the tip as she held it still with her teeth, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew there was something about her teeth she should be thinking about-

Tamatoa shouted above her, hoarse, and distantly Moana could hear the breaking of more branches. His own orgasm greeted her, her mouth filling up with sticky fluid, dark flavor, and she swallowed reflexively. She sucked again before swallowing more, suddenly and desperately craving every last drop. The antennae within her had slowed, and now thrust only shallowly, and together, Moana and Tamatoa settled down from their high.

With a contented hum, Moana leveraged herself backwards, sitting on her rear and leaning back against the mulberry tree. Her legs splayed wide and Tamatoa kept his antennae within her, even as he stepped gingerly back and dropped his front leg and claws down to the ground. He wavered for a moment before letting himself fall, unable to hold his weight.

“So,” she said brightly. “Good for you?”

Tamatoa looked back at her in a mix of fascination and abject horror. He worked his mouth for a long moment, before finally uttering the word, “Teeth.”

Moana laughed. “What, you can’t tell me you didn’t like it.” She brought a hand up, wiped some leaked fluid from her lips with her thumb. Meeting Tamatoa’s eyes, she licked if back off, then raised an eyebrow. “Because you absolutely did get off on that.”

His eyes were still wide. “I, uhhh…”

Moana winked at him. “What happened to all your charm, hmm? I thought you were a big suave crab?”

She leaned back up then, on her knees, before Tamatoa could say anything, then pressed herself against him, her body along his neck, his face pressed against her breasts, and her arms looping around his head to hold him there. “Deep breaths, Tamatoa!” she sing-songed, lightly teasing. “Don’t panic now!”

He did seem to melt into her after a moment, tension easing from his body as he nuzzled into her bosom. He had always particularly enjoyed her breasts, after all; they were sure to soothe him now. Relaxed, Tamatoa shifted only slightly, and Moana realized it was probably as much so he could breathe as so he could speak.

“That was…. Incredible, Babe. You are incredible.”

Moana smiled happily.

“But please tell me before you do that next time?” he continued.

She laughed, light-hearted and happy and deeply satisfied.

Then, and only then, did she remember that Maui had been watching. Anger pricked back up, she looked up and around, but could find no hint as to his presence.

Tamatoa must have realized what she was doing, because he mumbled. “He’s gone. He left a little after you, uh-”

“Good,” she huffed, vehemently. “This isn’t any of his business.”

She could feel the crab’s mouth and lips working, as though he were trying to say something, but in the end he fell still and remained quiet, releasing only a contented sigh.

Moana quirked her lips. “I’ll have to be sure to give him a good tongue-lashing when we find him,” she quipped. Tamatoa chuckled, and nudged a little harder against her, pincers encircling her hips and holding her close.

“Well, you’re certainly very good at those,” he retorted, with only a hint of shakiness still in his voice.

Moana laughed brightly. “Well, I guess you’d know.”