A/N: This is a warning. Look at the warning. Read the warning. Warning: This is slash (M/M). I do not condone inter-family relations by the way...in case anyone questions...

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"Simba!" roared a deep voice from behind a towering rock, "Simbaaaa!"

Focused on a butterfly, Simba ignored the yell and pounced forward, pouting when it flew away. "Grrrrr.." he growled, grumpily. One day, one day, the butterfly would be his. He'd be a great hunter. The GREATEST - just like his uncle. Or dad.

Spying another black and yellow insect flitter towards him, Simba crouches and bares his teeth in mock anger. Another chance has appeared, another opportunity, to prove his skill. Scar would be so proud of him. His father didn't really approve of picking on the weak, but the weak were weak for a reason, right? For the rest to survive. That's what Scar always says. Sort of like the cycle of life. That, at least, his father understood.

"SIMBA!"

He vaguely hears his name being called again, but it can't be as important as showing his worth. This is his prey and it will be his uncle's gift. Show him that all his lessons in hunting were not taught in vain.

"SIMMBBAAA!" the roar, this time, is frighteningly close. Oops.

A shadow falls over him and Simba drops onto his belly, submissively. "H-hey.." he simpers meekly, "wh-what do you need uncle Scar?"

"Didn't you hear me call you?"

"Well...yeah.." he murmurs and flattens his ears on his head. "I heard.."

"Then why didn't you come?"

He's about to open his mouth when he feels his uncle's muzzle nudge his shoulders. Used to this, Simba automatically rolls onto his back, looks up, then ducks his head at Scar's intense green gaze. "Well?"

He rubs his paws together nervously, "Uh..."

Scar grins a feral grin and drops his haunches, stretching onto his belly, and shuffles forward so that he's face to face with his nephew whose amber eyes flicker with panic at him. How cute.

"Hmm?"

"Ah..uh...well...you see..."

"I'm listening," he smirks.

Simba can't take his eyes off his uncle's predatory smile and he feels his stomach drop. He doesn't know why lately he'd begun feeling this way, but it was really making him uncomfortable...and afraid.. Was this normal?

"I just...I was busy..."

"Hmm.." Scar's tongue flicks out against Simba's cheek briefly, "Busy doing what?"

Simba shudders and closes his eyes. "Ch-chasing butterflies.."

"I see..so butterflies were more important than me." The hurt tone slammed into Simba's ears and overwhelming guilt poured into his heart. No, butterflies were definitely not more important than his uncle. He loved his uncle. Besides his mom and dad, there weren't anymore people as important to him as Scar was. Sometimes, sometimes, he even thought that Scar was more important than his parents, but he'd never tell anyone that.

"No! That's not true!" he rambled, eyes flashing with vehement fire. "It's not true, uncle Scar!"

Scar sighed, disregarding his nephew's babbling, and his once predatory grin was now a firm line of disappointment. So it had begun. Where his little nephew starts to think he's too old to play with his uncle. Soon he'd be left behind and instead of the sweet, cute, innocent cub lying before him, a haughty, serious prince would be prowling around trailing after his brother. Uncle Scar? Who's that?

He rises with purpose and walks forward without sparing another glance to his nephew. There may be no smile on his face now, but there's a calculating glint in his poison-green eyes. He will not lose his precious nephew to his brother. And if Simba was no longer at the age where games were of interest to him, then he was certainly at the age for something more. As long as Scar was interesting to his nephew, as long as he was needed for something, he would not be left behind.

He will not be left behind.